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joelsgoldrush · 2 months ago

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“never is a promise” | 12.4k

old man!logan x f!reader

SUMMARY: You are everything Logan isn’t: sweet, trouble-free, much younger—and, to top it off, Charles' caregiver.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni smut 18+ mentions of drinking. angst. some fluff. old man!logan x caregiver!reader. implied age gap (reader’s in her twenties). miscommunication. slow burn. pining. reader is shorter than logan and has long hair. charles in his cupid era. petnames. minor injuries. wound tending. mentions of blood. virgin!reader. dirty talk. cum shots. fingering. handjobs. oral sex (m receiving). loving sex. sex with a lot of feelings (is that a tag?). unprotected p in v.

A/N: i just want to fall in love with him. that’s it. that’s the reason why i wrote this long ass fic 😭 while doing so, i had “never is a promise” by fiona apple and “cool about it” by boygenius on repeat. give them a try if you haven’t listened to them (your lives will be CHANGED) (also, thank you for reading <3)

No matter how often you play chess with Charles, you never manage to beat him.

“You’ve been staring at that knight for five minutes. It’s not going anywhere, I promise.”

Chuckling at his sarcasm, you fold your hands in your lap, lifting your eyebrows in mock surrender. “Okay, I get it. You’re the master of chess,” leaning back in the chair, you cross one leg over the other. “Can we play something else?”

“I’m quite entertained, thank you,” Charles says, sliding the board closer to you across the table. “Your turn.”

“How is it that you don’t get tired of this game?” you mutter under your breath, eyes fixed on the board as you weigh your options, hovering your hand indecisively over the chess pieces.

“Please do something before I’m forced to make a dash for the toilet.” He hangs his head, pinching the bridge of his nose—a telltale sign of one of his irritable days.

His words spur you into action, encouraging you to finally slide the knight into position. You glance up, meeting his gaze with a hint of challenge. “You go now.”

Charles doesn’t hesitate, and he moves a bishop. “Check.”

Fuck. You hadn’t seen that coming. “I’d prefer to walk away with my pride,” you joke, pushing your chair back and pretending to lose interest in the board.

That makes him smirk, a barely there grin dangling on the corners of his wrinkled lips. The truth is, you wouldn’t stop playing for anything in the world—not even if this old man kicks your ass every single time he suggests playing chess. “You’re not out of the game yet.”

Quietness settles over the tank while you allow yourself some time to come up with a new strategy. After a moment, you decide to go for a pawn, using it to block his bishop.

He doesn’t stop grinning, studying your move with an amused glint in his blue eyes. “Not bad, but you’ve left your king exposed.”

You gape at the board, your fragile confidence faltering for a split second. "I still have some pieces in play."

Charles nods, his brows drawing together in thoughtful consideration. "True. But sometimes, it’s not about how many pieces you have left—” He reaches out, carefully sliding his queen across the board. "It’s about where you place them.” He relaxes, hunching over, his eyes searching for yours. A smile that’s all teeth welcomes you. “Checkmate."

“Damn.” You blow out your cheeks, your gaze tracing the path of his queen. Somehow, he’s trapped your king with no easy way out.

He leans back with a satisfied grin. “That’s three games in a row. My suggestion is that you start rethinking your strategy.”

“Or maybe you’re just a better player,” you admit, a mix of frustration and admiration palpable in your tone. “No more chess for today, though.” You stand up from your seat, gathering the board and chess pieces. As usual, they find their place under Charles’ bed, and you turn back to him, beaming with delight. “I think you owe me one after all this.”

“You’re a terrible loser, my dear,” he says, his eyes twinkling as they take you in. “Reminds me of someone I know.”

At that exact moment, you hear the familiar creak of the tank’s door opening, followed by a cough you immediately recognize.

Without thinking, you straighten your back as Logan steps into the room. Charles notices it, but says nothing in return.

It was an infatuation—or at least, that’s what you try to convince yourself of. Logan is a very good-looking man, probably the most handsome you’ve ever laid eyes on.

The fact that you live with him doesn’t help at all. You think that if you only saw him occasionally, this—this anxiety that grips you whenever he’s around or when you hear his voice—wouldn’t happen in the first place.

Whether it’s good or bad luck, you’ve been sleeping under the same roof as him for over a year, and the crush you’ve had since the first time you exchanged words with him only seems to grow stronger with each passing day.

What you figure out over time is that men like Logan aren’t the dating type. He’s never brought anyone home, and for that, you’re secretly grateful. The last thing you need is to see him with another woman—thank you very much. Still, the thought gnaws at you: he could easily be meeting someone elsewhere.

In fact, it’s more than likely that he’s hooking up with other people. It doesn’t have to be at—

Alright. You don’t need this either.

Logan’s heavy footsteps resonate even louder, his presence more imposing, and he seems especially pissed off. Then again, he always has that demeanor—angry, grumpy, locked in a constant battle with life.

But today… today, you haven’t seen him this troubled in weeks.

“Look who’s joined us,” Charles mumbles, steering his motorized chair to meet him halfway. The chair bumps against Logan’s legs with a thud that sounds almost cartoonish, and Charles scrunches up his nose, his nostrils flaring in disgust. “You smell like shit.”

“Yeah, I missed you too, Pop,” Logan grunts, shoving his hand into the pocket of his suit, searching for something. That’s when you notice the bloodstains on his shirt, smeared across his chest, and the missing buttons at the top. Your breath catches in your throat, and you bite your tongue to keep from asking any foolish questions. “They gave me new ones,” he mutters, looking you in the eye as he tosses the pill bottle at you.

You leap forward to catch it mid-air, your heart skipping a beat. Logan holds your gaze for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before giving a slight nod and turning on his heel to storm out of the tank.

When your attention goes back to Charles, you see how his eyes remain locked on the pills you’re holding, his head lowering in defeat. “He’s waiting for me to die.”

“Don’t say that.” You squat to be at his eye level, momentarily hiding the meds from his view. Still, you struggle to make him shift his gaze. “He’s taking care of you, which is something completely different.” You place your hand on top of his knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You’ve had this same conversation innumerable times, yet each time feels like the first. He offers you a melancholic but knowing look as you softly say: “You have to take them, Charles. I’m sorry.”

He raises a hand, his trembling fingers curling around your wrist, examining you, trying to find an answer in the lines. “Don’t be. At least you’re here.”

“I’m sure Logan’s tired; that’s why he doesn’t stay any longer. Haven’t you seen him?” You rise to your feet, moving behind him to guide his chair. The tank sort of has a chill in the air, metallic walls that seem to press in around you both. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to play chess with him. Rest assured I’ll always let you win,” you murmur next to his ear, succeeding in eliciting a chuckle from him.

After that, you help him with his daily routine. Charles isn’t heavy, and you manage to get him onto the bed, his frail body yielding to your gentle support.

You slip the rest of his body beneath the blankets, tucking him in carefully before handing him two pills and a glass of water. “All the way down, okay? And I wanna see that tongue after you swallow them.”

If looks could kill, you’d be six feet under, covered in dust and dirt. Charles sticks his tongue out, putting the glass down on his nightstand. “Happy?”

“You’ve got no idea how much,” you say, adjusting the covers. The silence of the tank surrounds you both, and you can sense his gaze lingering on you. You flick your eyes up, furrowing your brows as you sit in the small space beside him on the mattress. “What is it?”

“You fancy him, don’t you?”

Freezing on the spot, your eyes narrow. “I—I don’t—” you trail off, pushing the words out with some effort. “Are you trying to read my mind?”

His whole chest rumbles with laughter under your touch. He finds your hand once again, intertwining your fingers with his. “Don’t be so naïve. I don’t need my abilities to see the way you get all flustered when he passes by. Why do you think they say older people are wiser?” he inquires, his lips forming a straight line. “We’ve lived too much not to notice the most common things, my dear—and let me tell you that you do a horrible job at pretending.”

“Of course I like him. Logan’s a good man, he keeps us safe.” You glance down at your hands—his, weak and delicate, in evident contrast to your own. “I’m not in love with him, Cupid.”

“Oh, you should’ve seen him years ago,” Charles says, his eyes glazing over as he drifts back into the past. His body remains here, within the confines of the room, but his mind is elsewhere, somewhere far away. You give his hand a gentle tug, trying to bring him back. “When we took him in, he was pursuing a career as a cage fighter. I had never seen anyone like him in all my years of educating mutants. He was so… different from the rest. Reserved, didn’t talk much at first. But I gave him a family, I—” His voice falters, overcome by his own emotions.

That’s when you realize he’s no longer with you, his gaze unfocused, looking around the tank as if seeing it for the first time. It pains you to see him like this, completely disoriented and disconnected from reality.

“Why are we here? What has happened to the rest? Has he told you anything?”

These are the questions he asks every day without fail—questions that you can’t, nor want, to answer. Since you’re not exactly sure the explanation would soothe his troubled mind, you feel forced to play dumb.

“I don’t know, Charles. We don’t really talk that much, Logan and I.” You stand from the bed, not without pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead before. You smile at him, hoping he doesn’t realize the gesture lacks authenticity. “Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll let you know if I hear anything worth sharing.”

Once you close the door behind you, you settle back into it, releasing a shaky breath. Being Charles’ caregiver was a challenging task, especially in moments like these, which required immense internal strength not to crumble in front of him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you adjust to the harsh sunlight, fighting to regain your composure. When you finally scan the area, the only thing that meets your eye is the deserted smelting plant you now call home.

You open the sliding door, the noise breaking the stillness and forcing Logan to look up from his plate. He’s eating like a starved man, casually drinking from a small bottle of whisky on the table, already half of it gone. After those long drives through the nights and the early hours, he always returns hungry.

You pour yourself a cup of coffee, setting it on the stove to heat. Neither of you says anything for a few minutes: he eats, and you sip your hot coffee in silence, not wishing to disturb the breakable peace that hangs by a thread.

Thinking this is how the noon will continue, you begin to walk toward your room until he clears his throat, stopping you in your tracks. That simple gesture makes you whirl around, anticipating something.

“This is delicious,” he acknowledges, pointing to his plate with his fork, the rice with veggies and meat you cooked last night nearly gone. Dipping his chin, he adds in a low voice: “Thank you.”

You’re taken aback by his unexpected willingness to engage in conversation. Moments like these are as rare as seeing Halley’s Comet, so you proceed with caution, as if you’re approaching a skittish animal—one wrong move, and the opportunity is lost.

Setting your mug down on the table, you sit on the chair opposite him. Deep down, the hammering of your heart echoes in your ears, and you hope his sharp senses don’t pick up on it.

“I’m glad you liked it. Charles ate two bowls of it,” you explain, unable to suppress a smile. Logan hums, tilting his head to the side as he keeps devouring his meal. You take another sip of your coffee, blowing on it in a futile attempt to cool it down. “He wants to talk to you.”

“Huh?”

“Charles. He—he asks to see you a lot,” you begin, carefully choosing your words. “I know it’s none of my business, but I think it would make him feel better if you spent more time with him.”

The sound of a distant train rumbles through the walls, amplifying the silence between you. Logan doesn’t utter a word; instead, he puts down his fork, the clinking noise making you jump slightly, the intensity of his stare becoming overwhelming.

“You’re right about one thing—what I do or don’t do is none of your goddamn business.”

Just like that, the buildup dissolves in a matter of seconds. You bite down on the inside of your cheek, nodding absentmindedly. “I’m sorry,” you murmur, feeling a wave of shame wash over you. How stupid were you to think he might want to talk to you? “I just—I want to be of help.”

“Just take care of Charles. That’s all you gotta worry about, all I’ve ever asked you to do,” he barks, clenching his jaw, and you can tell he means each word.

When he talks to you in this tone, it makes you think more rationally—it reminds you that you don’t really know him, and yet you agreed to work for him in exchange for a roof over your head and food on your plate. He’s not your friend, and he’s excellent at making that crystal clear every time you cross the line.

Logan pushes you away like you’re nothing, like you’re just another of the many burdens he has to deal with.

It should be enough to send you running to your room, but despite the knot tightening in your belly, you somehow remain rooted in place, your eyes sharp like daggers.

As another train echoes in the silence, you come to terms with the knowledge that one more question will drive him away.

And sometimes, you speak before you think, as you do now: “Whose blood is that on your shirt?” you ask, voice steady and cold. Perhaps it’s you who wants him to leave this time.

He shakes his head with offense, frustration crinkling his eyes. “I don’t need this shit,” he groans, his gruff voice loud enough for you to hear it. He gets up from the table, placing his plate in the sink without much delicacy. At last, he heads to his room, slamming the door with a deafening thud that reverberates through the entire place.

It’s not a crush, that voice deep inside you insists as you’re left alone in the kitchen. And it’s valid: a mere crush wouldn't cause this kind of pain, wouldn’t make your chest feel this heavy and your limbs numb.

Whenever he leaves, he takes a part of you with him, never to be returned. By now, you’re certain he’s stolen all those missing pieces from you, and you’ve got no idea how much longer you can endure before you shatter completely.

You seem to have won this battle, but what you end up losing is far greater than any fleeting gratification.

Loving Logan is maddening, to say the least.

To this day, you still recall every detail of the night that altered the course of your life—the night you met Logan.

The memories are rather vivid in your mind, and you revisit that moment on nights like these, when you can’t sleep and the past appears to be much more appealing than your present.

Pressing your cheek against the cold pillow, you let your eyelids drop, reconstructing the full scene behind your sealed eyes.

It was your third week working at that restaurant, and you were still getting used to its daily rhythm. Waitressing was working wonders for you—you had a good memory, and people often gave you generous tips.

Everything was going well: you were the only waitress on shift, and your boss had left for a brief errand, promising he would be back soon.

During this lull, a group of men entered the restaurant, already drunk or high—probably both. They sat at one of the empty tables, immediately calling for you.

One of them, a tall blonde, was the loudest. “Come here, baby.” He pointed his finger at you, gesturing for you to approach him. The nickname felt wrong rolling off his tongue, and as you obliged, he shoved a handful of bills into the front pocket of your apron. He clutched your waist, dragging you nearer. “I’m getting married tomorrow. Think you can do something special for me?”

His friends cheered him on, laughing and pounding their fists on the table. You managed to slip from his grasp and asked them what they wanted to order.

While they took their time deciding, you noticed a limousine parked in the distance, probably the vehicle that had brought these morons here. The driver rolled down his window, hanging his arm from the armrest.

Though you couldn’t see his features, the interaction alone was enough to make you look away.

An hour went by, and the men refused to take off. They’d eaten, drunk, and danced—and driven you crazy in the process. The rest of the customers had decided to leave once they realized the night was far from finishing for the noisy group of friends. You apologized, feeling incapable of doing anything to change the situation.

Your sanity felt threatened as you turned off the TV, ending the sixth round of karaoke, their shouts and hoots ringing in your ears.

“We’re closing in ten minutes,” you informed them, starting to collect their dirty plates and glasses. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the blonde man standing right beside you, his piercing blue eyes burning holes through your skin. He attempted to graze your shoulder, but you quickly stepped back, keeping a safe distance between you. “How do you plan to pay? Cash or credit?”

“How about with a kiss, huh?” He inched forward, his face dangerously close to yours. Unaccustomed to being approached in this manner, you ducked your head, unsure of your next move. His breath reeked of beer and vodka, a horrendous combination that had you nearly gagging on the spot.

As he backed you against the counter, one of his large hands cradled your face, urging you to make eye contact with him. “I swear I can be very, very nice. You haven’t given me the chance to show it yet.”

“Hey, pal. You said one hour.”

The first time you heard his voice—low and husky, the kind that could send shivers down your spine.

Your eyes locked with Logan’s, your pleading gaze seemingly stirring something in him as he got a grip on the situation. His brows bumped together in a scowl, and you didn’t miss how he limped as he made his way into the restaurant.

There was something about him—how he moved, his stance—that felt strangely familiar.

“We’re busy in here, chauffeur,” the blue-eyed man protested, slightly losing his balance while still holding your cheek.

Your rescuer squared off against him, their noses practically brushing. He worked his jaw, his half-lidded, tired eyes taking in the sight of you. “I’m no fortune-teller, but I don’t think she’s into you, bub.”

“Come again?” the blonde guy released you, much more concerned with defending his bruised pride. “What’s the matter, Grandpa? Is it past your bedtime?”

“I want you to pay me for the ride, and for waiting a fucking hour and a half for you and your friends,” the older man spat, jerking his thumb toward the limousine. “I’m not taking you back to the hotel. You might want to start looking’ for another driver.”

The group of men closed in around him, their anger bubbling. “That’s not cool, dude. We had a deal,” another voice snapped, but Logan couldn’t seem to care less.

“Well, the deal’s off. And leave the girl alone, will you?” he retorted, his tone dripping with disdain. “So, where’s my money?”

He couldn’t have predicted it. One of the men behind him swung a plate, striking him in the nape and catching him off guard. Logan collapsed to the floor, clutching his head in pain. The others took the opportunity and began to pummel him, kicks and punches landing wherever they could.

You screamed at the top of your lungs, desperately trying to intervene. You grabbed at their clothes, digging your fingernails into every patch of exposed skin you could find, but they shoved you aside with brutal force. Your back slammed against the nearest wall, a jolt of sudden pain making you wince.

The blood in your veins turned to ice as you watched, paralyzed with fear that they might kill him. But then—

Three metallic claws emerged from his knuckles, and he used them to push himself upright. Despite the blood smeared across his nose and mouth, he managed to stand, his quickened breathing coming out in short puffs.

The men backed away in shock, leaving him alone amidst the chaos.

You stared at him, your hands trembling as recognition dawned: it was The Wolverine.

The familiarity, the sense of having seen him before, all made sense now. It all flooded back in a rush—the comics, the news, the rumors.

“Get the hell outta my sight,” he growled, pressing his claws against the fabric of the blue-eyed man’s jacket, making him flinch.

You couldn’t make out what you were feeling. It wasn’t fear, but intrigue. Even as the group of men fled the restaurant, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. At first, he avoided your gaze, focusing on his shoes as he retracted his claws.

Once the immediate danger had passed, he slumped forward, groaning. You gently draped one of his arms around your shoulders and helped him into a nearby chair. His weight felt like a thousand bricks, but you accomplished to get him seated.

He rubbed a shaky hand over his graying beard, his face twisting in pain as you pressed a makeshift towel of napkins against his lower lip, where blood continued to flow.

Taking the towel from you, he continued tending to himself. You scanned his features, scrutinizing him.

“You are…” you began, the words feeling inadequate at the moment.

Logan nodded hesitantly, his silence confirming your suspicion. “Yeah, that’s me,” he tugged at his shirt collar, exposing some of his chest hair, fresh blood staining his work clothes. Your gaze fell there, and you quickly chided yourself.

The poor guy was bleeding, and you were checking him out. Jeez.

Kneeling by his side, you introduced yourself. “Thank you for stepping up for me,” you said afterward, and he shook his head dismissively. “They were a pain in the ass. I don’t know how you even managed to drive them here.”

“Money’s money, darlin’. Doesn’t matter where it comes from, as long as—” he was interrupted by a coughing fit, and your concern deepened as you continued to spot more of his injuries. “I’ll heal,” he reassured you, his expression softening in an attempt to calm your anxiety.

Your eyes pierced his with an intensity that seemed to unsettle him. Warmth crept into your cheeks as a question surfaced in your mind: “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“You don’t owe me anything, kid,” he replied, a hint of gruffness in his voice.

“But I could help you,” you persisted, your voice betraying a touch of eagerness. Stifling a cough, you tried to mask your enthusiasm, and sighed. “Are you hungry? I could cook you something, or pour you a drink. We’ve got plenty of liquor—”

Logan interrupted you, placing the towel down on the table. “Have you ever taken care of an old person?”

Tilting your head, you considered his question. “How old?”

“Ninety-somethin’.”

You nodded, memories of the events from years ago surfacing. “I lived with my grandparents for most of my life. When they fell ill, I spent a lot of time with them. My mom had to work long hours, and I—well, the point is, I did take care of them,” you paused for an instant, his expression unreadable, though you perceived a slight relaxation in his posture, as if your answer had put him at ease. “I like being around old people. They have stories to tell,” you added, a genuine smile breaking through, “and I’m a good listener.”

“Then I suppose there is somethin’ you can help me with.”

And so began a new chapter in your life.

The very next day, you were moving in with him and Charles. It took several weeks for the latter to warm up to you and get used to your presence.

Initially, he was hopeful that you might also be a mutant, but his disappointment was palpable when he discovered you lacked any supernatural gifts. Leaving that aside, he valued your company.

“The shots mellow the seizures. The pills keep them from happening,” Logan had once explained, detailing the medications Charles needed. You recalled the psychic attack from a year ago and its consequences, but that wasn’t a topic to be discussed with Logan, and you understood why.

“Where do you get these?” you asked, examining the bottle of pills with a curious glance. “Without a prescription, I mean.”

“Oh, you don’t wanna know.”

Soon, you got adapted to the whole package: his unpredictable temperament, his mood swings, and his nightmares. Logan Howlett was a puzzle box of surprises, one you could never quite unlock.

Fast forward to the present day, you realize it must be already late, because Logan’s heading to work. You stand on your tiptoes, peering out of your bedroom window. Your humid breath fogs the glass as his eyes find yours, and then he slips into the vehicle, blending into the shadows of the night.

The distant rumble of his limousine signals his departure, your forehead pressed against the glass, as if somehow that could take you with him.

There goes another piece of you.

You find yourself shaving Charles the moment worry takes over your senses.

He’s retelling a familiar story: that one time Logan, Scott, Jean, and Storm saved Rogue from Magneto.

On any other day, you wouldn’t mind listening to his stories, despite having heard them countless times. This one in particular is your favorite.

But today, it’s hard to focus on it, even more when one of its main characters is missing in action.

Logan hasn’t come back home yet.

It’s been an entire day, and he’s usually back by morning to rest. Now, after having cooked dinner and helping Charles shower, you’ve run out of distractions. There’s nothing left to occupy your thoughts, nothing to ease the building anxiety gnawing at you.

You texted him multiple times—no answer. You even called—also nothing. Every time Charles asks if Logan’s at work or sleeping, the knot in your chest tightens. That’s when your mind starts to spiral, and you’re convinced you’ll burst any moment.

After putting him to bed, you pace the kitchen, picking at your nails and biting the raw skin around them. The sting of pain is there, but it’s faint, not enough to overshadow the real fear clawing at your insides.

All these what-ifs that storm through your mind make you feel nauseous: what if he’s dead? What would you do with Charles? How would you provide for both of you without a salary?

Just as you’re about to dial his number again, Logan materializes out of thin air through the sliding door.

He’s got a dark bruise under his right eye, and his once-white shirt is littered with bloodstains. You stare at him—he’s limping harder than usual, each of his movements slower.

Walking towards him, your hands cup his face. His skin feels rough beneath your fingers, and he lets out a grunt as you graze his split lip. “What happened?”

“They were followin’ me. Had been doin’ so for a few days now,” he says, making no effort to pull away.

“Did you kill them?” you wonder out loud, still inspecting his injuries. The pad of your thumb hovers inches away from his bruised mouth.

Covering your hands with his, Logan ducks his head, closing his eyes for a brief second and swallowing thickly. “Somebody had to do it, sweetheart.”

You limit yourself to a nod, because you know there’s nothing you can reproach him for. You were no stranger to the idea of him killing. It was an implicit truth between you.

“I thought—I was so scared, and I—” your voice wavers, and you feel your eyes watering, the tears prickling at the corners. “I thought you—”

He doesn’t let you finish, already knowing how it would end. “Hey, look at me,” he’s the one touching you now, tilting your chin up. Your eyes keep flickering over the cuts and old scars you spot on his cheeks, his neck. Logan forces a pained smile, unable to hide his discomfort. “It’s fine, I’m alright. Just a bit fucked up, but nothin’ you haven’t seen before,” he jokes, trying to lighten the mood, and it works. You bite your lower lip, suppressing your grin. “I always come back, don’t I?”

“But you can barely stand,” you whisper, not sure why you’re speaking so softly. You make him turn his back to you, helping him shrug off his coat. As expected, remnants of dried blood decorate his shirt like highlights. “Let me help you.”

“I don’t—”

”There are cuts all over your back. And your chest—you’re not healing properly,” you say, turning him to face you again. The look on his face suggests only one thing: he’s about to throw in the towel. “You don’t have to do everything on your own.” You think you’ve never been this close before, his proximity both intoxicating and comforting at the same time. “Please.”

He ends up giving in to your persuasion, allowing you to guide him to the bathroom. Logan sits down on the toilet, watching you gather supplies to clean his wounds. When you come back, he’s still staring at you, his eyelashes fluttering together each time he blinks.

Starting with his cheek, you press a damp towel to his skin, and he hisses. It takes everything in you not to flinch in sympathy.

“How’s Charles?” he asks, probably trying to distract himself as you continue to clean his wounds, the towel darkening with his blood over time.

“He’s doing great. Asked for you a lot, actually,” you take a look at his jaw, where one shallow cut is already starting to fade away thanks to his healing ability, something that never fails to amaze you.

Logan hums, tilting his head. ”I’ll check on him in the morning,” he murmurs, and you flash him a quick smile, finishing with his face. He’s now free of dirt and blood, his brows furrowing as he pauses to collect his thoughts. “The other day, when we talked—”

You cut him off, turning to the sink as you rinse the towel, watching the water get red. “Forget it.”

“No, it wasn’t okay—how I acted,” he stands up from the toilet, and you feel his presence behind you, the alarm inside your head going off as the space between you shrinks. “I know you just want what’s best for him. For us. I’m sorry I was a jerk,” his voice comes out even huskier at this time of the night, sounding afraid of waking someone, even though it’s just the two of you here.

“Apology accepted,” you swirl around to meet his gaze, only to find yourself nose-to-nose with him, and you lean back against the sink, your spine pressed into the cool surface.

Logan places his hands on both sides of the vanity, caging you with his body. Like the most beautiful tree, he stands tall in front of you, and you take a deep breath, getting drunk on his distinctive scent. “Are you… okay?”

You watch as he lowers his head, pursing his lips before muttering: “Imma need you to do something more for me,” he says, almost pleading, and you can’t avoid the amount of thoughts that rush into your mind.

Gone was your decency when you had to deal with him.

That’s when he looks up to find your eyes, his harsh expression evolving into a more vulnerable one. “Have you ever removed a bullet?”

If you thought listening to Logan’s nightmares was painful, nothing could have prepared you for the sounds he makes while you pull several bullets from his wounds.

He sits shirtless in front of you, grunting at each of your careful movements. As you remove one bullet lodged near his ribs, Logan practically yells, and you rest your cheek against his, desperate to ease his suffering.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Almost done,” you whisper into his ear, hoping your words might bring him some relief. He lets his head fall forward, resting it on your shoulder, trusting you enough to tend to his injuries, his thoughts drifting elsewhere.

It takes you half an hour to clean both his chest and back, but Logan doesn’t complain. When you’re finished, he goes straight to his room, flopping onto his bed, the mattress creaking under his weight. You see the way his chest rises and falls rapidly, his breathing still labored.

You wish you could lie beside him, even just for a few minutes, but your last shred of self-control stops you from doing such a thing.

“Get some sleep,” you say leaning against the doorframe, your advice sounding more like a plea. He looks exhausted, dark circles sunken beneath his eyes.

Logan lets out a bitter laugh. “Do I look that bad?”

You roll your eyes at that, your fingers curling around the doorknob. Glancing back at him over your shoulder, you catch something in his look—a glimmer of something you struggle to put into words, but you decide not to look further into it. “Good night, Logan.”

“Good night, darlin’—and thank you,” he murmurs, holding your gaze until the door shuts between you.

Then you sprint to your room, gently closing the door before biting back a smile, replaying the last hour in your mind. How close to you he had been, how comfortable he seemed around you.

You hadn’t just crossed lines—you’d broken them. You almost pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming.

Somehow, your racing mind calms down, and you fall asleep, one hand tucked beneath the pillow, the other resting against your chest.

You’re a light sleeper. The sound of something shattering wakes you, leaving you startled and disoriented.

Dawn is just breaking, the first rays of sunlight slipping through your window. You sit up, pricking up your ears as you scratch the back of your head, listening attentively.

Logan’s voice filters into your room—he lets out a string of profanities, and you stifle a giggle, throwing off your covers and putting on a sweatshirt that matches your pajamas.

Barefoot, you walk down the hall, stopping at the kitchen’s entrance. Logan is kneeling beside the table, gathering the shards of a broken mug. It seems like he’s just gotten out of the shower, tiny droplets of water trailing down his neck.

“That was my favorite one,” you say in a low voice, teasing him. His back muscles flex under the material of his shirt, and he turns to look at you, his expression a silent apology. “I take it you’re not using your glasses?”

“I’m gonna stop you right there.” Rising to his feet, he grunts, digging his fingers into his lower back with a grimace. “They’re called readers for a reason.”

You decide to let him have that one, grabbing a new mug from the shelf and handing it to him. He accepts it, thanking you, and fills it with freshly brewed coffee.

“Was it a nightmare?” you ask, watching as he sinks into the couch, spreading his thighs apart with a sigh while you take a seat at the table instead.

Logan gives a nod, sipping some of his coffee. “At least I slept for a few hours.”

“Are you really going to stay up? It’s pretty early.” You stretch your arms over your head, a yawn escaping you before you can hold it back.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

You hesitate for a moment, but then comes your question: “Can I join you?” You prop your elbows on your knees, any trace of sleepiness now gone with the wind.

He squints his eyes, his unrelenting stare boring into you. “Feel free.”

So here you are, studying him as he drinks his coffee, his fingers wrapped tightly around the ceramic. There are so many things you want to ask him—about how he’s feeling, if his wounds have healed—but it seems you’ve entered a silent staring contest without even knowing it.

Not that you mind him looking at you—you just want to know the reason why.

You snort, and he arches a brow. “Do I have something on my face?” You decide to ask him, straightening your back.

“I guess I can’t help but wonder why you agreed to all of this,” he says, setting the mug down with a soft clink. By this, you understand he’s referring to being Charles’ caregiver and leaving your old job behind. “I mean—you could be doing better things with your life. Why would you choose to do this?”

“I told you before: I wanted to help you,” you shrug, trying to keep your tone light even as your stomach tightens with nerves. You watch as Logan folds his arms, the muscles of his biceps becoming more visible. “Plus, I love being around Charles.

“I don’t think people your age would be that interested in spending their days like this,” he says, and you toy with a lock of your hair, wrapping it around your finger.

“Well, good thing I’m not like most people my age then.”

His silence hangs heavy in the air until he speaks again. “What do you mean by that?”

“You know that feeling when life seems like a race? And you just have to keep up with certain things that everybody else is doing, or you’ll be left behind?” You pause, the words falling more naturally than you’d expected.

Logan nods, making it seem like he understands what you’re trying to say. Whether he truly does it or not, you don’t know.

“When my friends started going to parties, getting boyfriends… I couldn’t. My family wouldn’t let me. And even when I could, it felt like it wasn’t really what I wanted.”

Inhaling sharply, you stop yourself. The conversation suddenly feels far too personal.

“You never had a boyfriend?” He gets more comfortable on the couch, his voice gruff as he rubs his chin, waiting for a reply.

A familiar heat settles between your legs. “I went out with some guys, but it never led to anything serious,” you say, your cheeks getting warmer the more details you share with him. “I guess I wasn’t the kind of girl they were looking for,” you add, not missing the way his lips twitch momentarily.

“How could they not want you?”

“They didn’t think like you do.”

“That’s because they were boys, not men,” he mutters, his gaze dropping to your hands before returning to your face. “Did they treat you right, those boys?”

Swallowing hard, you can hardly register the uncertainty in your own voice. “I mean… yes, I think they did. They were nice to me.”

There it is—the faintest hint of a smirk dancing on his lips. “Nice doesn’t mean good, though.”

You dig your nails onto the table, your pulse quickening, trying to hide how affected you are by his words. “What is it that you want to know?”

“Come sit with me, doll.”

Doll. Doll. Doll. Inside your chest, your heart gallops, your legs trembling as you get off the table, moving closer to him.

Feeling lighter with every step you take, you plop down beside him, and Logan sits straighter, his knees almost bumping into yours.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him—this is happening, just like in your filthiest dreams.

His hand slides up to yours, not applying any sort of pressure. He scrutinizes your skin, bringing your hand to his lips, and he presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist.

It tickles, it burns—it ignites a fire inside you, one you know you can’t ignore. A gasp attempts to escape you, but you suppress it.

“Did you let them touch you?” he whispers, attaching his mouth to your neck, brushing the sensitive spot where your jaw and ear meet.

This time, you moan, any possible rational thoughts turning into putty, melting with the way he’s touching you. “Logan,” you purr his name, begging for something, anything he’s willing to give you. Your thighs, once shoved together, spread of their own accord, and you hear him click his tongue.

“I asked you something.” His teeth graze your pulse point, forcing you to close your eyes.

“I didn’t. They wanted to, but I—I wouldn’t let them,” you answer, and as if he’s rewarding you, his fingers begin to tug on the hem of your sweatshirt, rolling it up your body and over your head. He tosses it to the floor, admiring you.

“Why?”

Goddamn.

“Because I was waiting for the right guy,” you manage to get out, grasping his hand and positioning it on top of your right breast, encouraging him to go on with what he had started. His pupils widen further, and he squeezes your tit roughly, eliciting a moan from you. “I think I’ve found him.”

Logan scans your face, searching for any sign of repentance in your expression. “I’m going to hell for this,” he murmurs under his breath, his hard-on noticeable through his tented sweatpants. “Lay down.” You obey his command, easing yourself onto the couch, and sinking into the cushions as he presses himself to your side.

He peppers your neck with kisses, playing with the waistband of your shorts. “I’m not gonna kiss you, but I’ll make you feel good. Just this time, ‘kay? And we don’t talk about it.”

You accept his offer, knowing that you’ll probably regret it in a couple of hours. Right now, it doesn’t matter. You need his electrifying touch, his fingers, his—

With a swift motion, your shorts are yanked down your legs, and his calloused hands part your thighs even wider. A damp spot on your underwear sells you out, and his thumb rubs gentle circles over that area, causing you to lift your hips.

“So this is what you look like when you touch yourself, huh?” He edges his fingers closer to your clit, his breath tickling your ear, and he dips his tongue into your collarbone. “I hear you all the fuckin’ time. You’re not as quiet as you think.”

It should embarrass you, the fact that he has listened to you pleasuring yourself. But in a moment like this, it only succeeds in fuelling your desire. “Please. You said you’d make me feel good.”

“And I will, but you’re greedy as hell,” he says, his movements more deliberate now. You feel hot all over as he pulls your panties to the side, exposing your glistening cunt.

Logan’s on the verge of drooling all over you, reaching for your folds and spreading your wetness. “Men aren’t strong creatures, honey. You’ve got no idea how hard it is to hold back.”

“D-don’t hold back,” you stutter, losing your composure when he returns to your clit, his fingers coated in your arousal while they flick your swollen bud. “Oh, Logan…”

“You make the prettiest sounds,” he rasps, mouthing at your jaw, though as you try to kiss him, he slows his pace. “What’s wrong? Am I not giving you enough?”

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” you whisper, fascinated by how big his fingers look in comparison to your pussy. “I’m just—”

“Needy, I know,” he finishes for you, and he picks up his merciless rhythm again. Heat pools in your lower abdomen, and you can’t help but arch your back every time he teases you, grazing your entrance with his middle finger. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

You dig your nails into his arm, relishing the way his body responds to your touch. He grinds his cock against your hip, his teeth nipping at the column of your neck. “I want to come. Please, make me come,” you sob, letting out a shaky breath.

A thin sheen of sweat covers your forehead, and Logan locks eyes with you after what feels like an eternity. “Please, Lo.”

The nickname snaps something inside of him. His fingers circle your clit with a fervency you hadn’t experienced before, your pleasure seemingly being his primary focus. “The shit I’d do for you.”

You warn him, telling him you’re close—so so so close—until the fire in your belly flares, and blood rushes to your ears. You collapse against him, holding his hand firmly against your core, hips jerking as you ride your orgasm.

The world narrows down to this—this moment, your most desired fantasy.

Logan holds you as you go limp in his arms, rubbing your clit ever so slightly, murmuring soft praises. “Y’did so good, sweetheart,” he whispers, planting a kiss on your temple, burying his nose in your hair. You’re still out of breath, the pulsing between your parted legs persisting long after your release. “Told you you weren’t quiet.”

A giggle bubbles up from your chest, his beard tickling you as he slides his hands up under your shirt, finding your nipples.

“It was n-nice,” you tell him, your voice faltering the more he toys with your hardened peaks. Your skin heats up again, heart racing at the thought that he isn’t done with you yet.

“Just nice?” One of his hands makes its way back into your pussy, ghosting his fingers over your hole, and he smirks when he feels you squirm. “You surely know how to hurt a man’s pride.”

“I wasn’t—I didn’t mean to—” You can’t structure a proper sentence, not when he’s playing with you like this.

Logan rubs your arousal between his fingers, as though he wants you to see how slick you still are, even after coming. “Are you going to touch me again?”

He hums, feigning uncertainty. “What do you think, baby? Should I make you come with my fingers now?”

It’s like a switch flips in your mind. He knows exactly how to make you beg and which buttons to push, using that power to his advantage. “Yes, please. I want it,” you plead, intending to buck your hips into his touch, impatient for more.

“Do you fuck yourself with your fingers?”

“Sometimes, but I can never finish—Oh my God.” He slips one finger inside you, causing you to curse, your voice barely above a whisper. You clench around the intrusion, your head falling back onto the cushions. “Fuck me.”

“In a minute.” He begins to thrust his finger in and out, gathering your juices every time he goes back to hammering that sweet spot in your interior. Soon, one finger becomes two, and he reduces you to a panting mess.

Tears threaten to swell in your eyes, and you whine as he involves his other hand in the matter, furiously rubbing your clit. “Your fingers feel much better than m-mine, Lo.”

“I can tell.” He curls them just right, and you push back against his thrusts, tilting your pelvis to meet him halfway. “There you go. Take what you need, sweetheart. I’m right here, I’ve got you.”

Everything feels frenzied, fast, the way your inner walls spam and contract around his fingers as you chase your second climax.

Once you come down from your high, your blurred vision catches him tugging the waistband of his sweatpants down. His cock springs free, and he fists himself, stroking his length angrily.

You watch as some pre-cum dribbles from the head, and you lean forward, watching it closely.

“You look goddamn beautiful when you come, darlin’,” he murmurs through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched tight. Hovering over you, he rucks your shirt up until he can see your tits from above. He alternates between your breasts, squeezing them while he continues to stroke his girth. “Want to see these all dirty.”

Logan truly loses it when your hand reaches out to him, tracing a bulging vein near the head of his cock. You meet his lustful gaze, batting your lashes, and then you feel his come splashing against your bare chest, a choked moan escaping Logan’s throat, spurts of his hot seed landing on your skin.

“Fuckin’ hell… fuck,” he grunts, still tugging at his cock, enamored with the masterpiece he’s created. When it’s finally over, he lies beside you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You run your fingers through his hair, and he nuzzles further into your touch with a groan. “I’m too old for this.”

Minutes pass as both of you seem to grasp the gravity of what has just happened. Eventually, Logan rises to his feet, disappearing for a brief moment before coming back with a towel to wipe his come off your stomach and chest.

He’s gentle with you, his gaze trained on his task until his eyes flick up to meet yours.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, pulling your shorts back up.

“Like what?”

“Like you want to see right through me.” He adjusts your shirt to cover your body again, but the towel remains in his hand, a reminder of the previous events.

I’m not gonna kiss you, but I’ll make you feel good. Just this time, ‘kay? And we don’t talk about it.

You don’t have to talk about it. You definitely don’t.

Two days later, he’s the one who comes looking for you.

You’re nearly asleep when he knocks on your door. “Come in,” you mumble, a bit of drool having dampened your pillow. You dry your mouth with the back of your hand, your back turned to the door.

He steps into your room cautiously, as if navigating a minefield. The mattress dips under his weight. “Were you sleeping?” he asks, caressing your leg over the covers.

You shift onto your back, your body responding before your mind. There’s no blood on his clothes—that makes you feel a bit better, and you shake your head.

“Good.” He looms closer, fumbling with his belt. His thumb applies little pressure to your lower lip, and your mouth parts to let him in, salivating.

This is just like Pavlov’s dog experiment—except that Logan isn’t an experimenter, and you aren’t a dog.

Yet, when he approaches you like this, you can’t help but respond, settling into a routine where you both take take take from each other.

Logan doesn’t fuck you, even when you beg him to. He gets you off with his fingers, his thigh, his mouth—but his cock remains out of the equation.

“Just the tip,” you plead, voice laced with pure need, when he’s got his face nestled between your legs.

As he stops eating you out, his beard shiny with your arousal, he’s still got that angry look on his face. Your cries don’t get to him.

“That lie’s older than me.” He slips his fingers back inside you, aiming to make you drop the subject. “Come on, baby. Gotta get ready for work, but you need to come first.”

Nor does he stay the night after telling you you’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen in his life. Just when you think he’s fallen asleep, his legs intertwined with yours and one of his large hands under your head, you drift off.

By the time morning comes, he’s gone. You just know that when night falls, he’ll be back for more, drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

Despite all that, Logan won’t kiss you. He keeps his promise, and you hate how determined he is.

“Not even once?” you ask him one night while going over the scars on his back. You’re in his bed this time, and he has his nose buried in his pillow, moments away from dozing off.

“No,” he answers, squirming slightly under your touch. “I’m tired. Stop doing that.”

“How did you get this one?” You trace one scar that’s close to his shoulder, resting your chin just inches from it.

He turns his face to see your eyes. “Well, I was doing Pilates, and I—Hey!” He laughs when you pinch the skin near his ribs, tickling him. “I don’t even remember. Must’ve got it a long time ago.”

“Did it hurt?” It’s a dumb question, but he doesn’t mention it.

His index finger grazes your cheek, and he chuckles at the way your eyelids flutter. “In the past, they all did. But not anymore,” he replies, though you wish you could believe him.

You know he’s in pain most days. That when he goes down on you, and he’s on his knees for too long, he has trouble standing up without cursing. That no amount of alcohol, or his healing ability, helps him with it.

You kiss each of his scars before curling against his side, brushing your nose against his. “And now?” Your eyes fall to his lips, silently hoping he’ll say Yes.

Instead, he sighs. “I think we should go to sleep.”

So despite the lack of kisses, the miscommunication, and the fact that he won’t fuck you even though you know—you feel—he wants to, things are good between you.

Charles notices it, openly expressing his recent realization. “He looks happier, doesn’t he?” he asks says after winning two games of chess in a row, startling you.

“Logan, you mean?”

“Yes, my dear.”

You glance down at the board, fidgeting with the pieces. “I guess so.”

“You guess so?” he parrots your previous words, raising an eyebrow in doubt. “Look at me,” he says, and as you do it, he points a shaky finger toward your neck. “I assume mosquitos have taken a liking to you.”

Heat rises to your cheeks, your hand flying up to cover the hickey you had completely forgotten about in the first place. “Charles, I’m—“

“Are you happy?” he interrupts you, and you nod, because you are.

A nagging thought lingers at the back of your mind. You don’t know if you’re asking for too much, but it still feels like something’s missing.

One morning, you accidentally overhear a conversation between them. The door of the tank is ajar, and right before you step inside, you recognize Logan’s voice in the distance.

“Charles, I’m fine, alright? I don’t need your advice.”

There’s a pause before Charles responds. “You know, Logan… this is what life looks like. You should take a moment and feel it. You still have time.”

Logan doesn’t say anything in response to that. And if he does, you don’t stick around long enough find out, because you’re already turning on your heel.

A poet once said: “Blowjobs are fucking amazing.”

Actually, you might be wrong. Those may not have been a poet’s words, but your best friend Keira’s from high school.

You remember the sleepovers at her place—she had a boyfriend at the time, a boy she had met at a party you hadn’t been invited to.

“Welcome to blowjobs 101,” she had declared one night, holding a hairbrush like a microphone. “Don’t worry, sweetie. I’ll tell you everything you need to know when the moment comes.”

Luckily, many years later, that moment arrived.

Just ten minutes ago, you were cooking dinner, sniffling back tears while chopping onions, so lost in thought that you didn’t realize Logan was already home.

He tossed his keys onto the table, hugging you from behind seconds later. You leaned back against his chest, enjoying the scratch of his beard against your sensitive skin, his lips planting soft kisses wherever they could.

“How was work?” you dropped the knife, wiping your tears as you turned to face him, throwing your arms around his neck. Logan pulled you in tighter by the waist, giving your ass a firm squeeze.

“Hell, as usual,” he looked into your eyes, finding them all glossy. “You miss me so much you started crying?”

Of course, you didn’t talk about it—but words aren’t the only ones who can convey meaning.

You’re not sure how, but one thing led to another, and now you’re on your knees, Logan’s cock filling your mouth. Your lips, swollen and red, suck hard at his tip, pulling the foreskin back, and his hips jerk deeper into your throat. “That’s it, fuck. Doin’ so good.”

Your movements are far from graceful. As a matter of fact, it’s all too sloppy and desperate. Saliva drips down your chin, some of it coating his balls, and you fondle them at the same time you bob your head.

Keira’s advice plays on repeat in your mind, and you pull out every trick you know to make Logan roll his eyes.

So far, you think you’re doing pretty great, judging by the way he’s gripping the back of your head.

“H-how is this your first time suckin’ cock?” he slurs, more to himself, his voice strangled as you make eye contact with him. He brushes your hair out of your face, bewitched by the sight of him disappearing into your wet mouth. “God, I fuckin’ love you.”

Taken aback by his sudden confession. you involuntarily gag around him. He pulls you off his cock, not even sparing you a glance, tucking himself back into his briefs. “Wait, Logan—”

“Not now,” he mutters abruptly, withdrawing into his bedroom and shutting the door behind him.

God, I fuckin’ love you.

But still, he doesn’t want to talk about it.

How bad is it to tell somebody you love them and then avoid them?

Yeah, it’s absolutely terrible, right? Tell that to the idiot himself—Logan Howlett.

It’s been over a week, and no matter how many times you press him for an explanation, he keeps dodging it.

Things go back to how they were before you two started fooling around, and Charles’ questions don’t take long to come: “I thought you two were getting somewhere.”

“Me too,” you admit, your voice quieter as you try to appear indifferent.

You have no answer for him. Not that you don’t want to discuss your relationship problems—it’s just that you don’t know what went wrong.

When evading you isn’t enough, he works longer hours, which only adds to how little you see him. At least he lets you know if he’s going to be late, sparing you from waiting up.

But apart from that, your interactions have dwindled to nothing, and it’s eating you alive.

You’re madly in love with him. You thought you knew that already, but now that he’s distant, the depth of your feelings has become clearer than ever.

He’s everywhere you go, just not physically—he has conquered your mind.

And it should be funny, loving someone who used to be no more than a myth for you. Though Logan is real—maybe too real for your own good—and he hasn’t been the mutant you once read about for quite some time.

This morning, he’s having breakfast at the table when you walk into the kitchen. You hold your breath as your shoulders brush for a microsecond, his gaze following your steps.

You’re no longer accustomed to sharing the same space with him, so it makes sense that you stay as far away as possible.

After an awkward silence, he stands up and mutters something about checking on Charles and giving him his meds, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

It’s infuriating, how collected he seems. Why isn’t he miserable like you? Doesn’t he miss you? Didn’t you two have something… special?

I’m not gonna kiss you, but I’ll make you feel good. Just this time, ‘kay? And we don’t talk about it.

The shit I’d for you.

God, I fuckin’ love you.

Not now.

The memory of his words lingers, seared into your unconscious, though the sound of his phone jolts you out of your thoughts.

It’s ringing beside the coffee machine, and you try to ignore it, determined to be the bigger person.

But after five minutes of the relentless ringtone echoing in the empty kitchen, you’ve had enough.

Unknown caller—interesting. What could he possibly be hiding?

Charles, you better keep that asshole busy, you think to yourself, swiping right to answer the call.

Before you can say anything, a woman’s voice fills the line.

“James! Thank God. It’s Gillian. You didn’t reply to any of my texts, and I was starting to get worried,” she lets out a giggle, the sound grating against your nerves.

As your grip on the phone tightens, your knuckles start to go white.

“Look, I know you said you weren’t available, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that ride. I didn’t see any ring on your finger, so what do you say, huh? Will you let me take you out?”

Red. You’re seeing red.

“James? Hello? Cat got your tongue?”

At last, you clear your throat. “Hey,” you greet her, pacing around the kitchen. “I’m deeply sorry, but James can’t talk right now.”

“Excuse me?” she snaps, her high-pitched voice echoing through the speakers, and you pull the device away from your ear. “This is James’ number. Who the fuck are you?”

“Oh, I’ll tell you who the fuck I am, you intolerant piece of—”

Before you can finish, the phone is yanked out of your hand, the call hastily ending.

There is no use in playing dumb, not when Logan’s standing right in front of you, observing you like you’re a child who’s made a severe mistake.

His deep, brown eyes pierce your soul, shattering any chance you had of coming up with an excuse.

“What where you doing with my phone?” It’s the first thing he asks you, his voice still steady, the calm before the storm.

Perhaps you’re not as mature as you thought you were—your forehead furrows, unwilling to back down, and you fall silent. He takes a step forward, as if he can’t believe your attitude. “Think I asked you somethin’. Why did you answer?”

“Gillian sounds like a lovely lady. Tell her I said ‘Hi’ the next time you see her,” you croak, attempting to walk past him, but he doesn’t budge, his solid frame blocking your path. You collide with his chest, and it feels like trying to move a brick wall without success.

“We’re talking. You can’t just leave.”

The nerve of this man.

“You can’t be serious,” you retort, staring at him, wishing the emotion in your tone could capture even a fraction of what you’re truly feeling. “Weren’t you the one who walked away first? After telling me you loved me?”

You search for any sign of the man who once held you close, but he feels miles away, hidden under all these layers that smell like cheap whiskey and gasoline. “You didn’t mean it.”

“I did. I meant every word,” he growls, his fists clenching at his sides, and you don’t miss the exhaustion in his eyes, the dark circles that expose the fragile façade of control he’s so desperate to maintain. “Goddamit! You’re doing that thing again!”

“What thing?” you exclaim, your mouth hanging open in frustration. “What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not doing anything.”

“Yes, you are! You’re trying to see through me, like you can read my mind.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint, but I’m not a fucking mutant. I just have eyes, Logan.” You throw your arms up, exasperated. “People actually look at each other when they have a conversation, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“You’re testing my patience,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face.

“And you are testing mine.” You rest your back against the table, raising your chin. “So, who is she?”

Logan drops his shoulders, slamming his eyes shut. “I drove her once, last week. It was a long ride and she… wouldn’t stop talking. Didn’t shut up for a single second. She hit on me, but I told her I’m off the market.”

“Why? ‘Cause she talked too much?”

“No. Because I love you,” he says, pure awe transforming his expression, like he doesn’t believe he has said it out loud. “I don’t know when I started feeling like this, or if I’ve always felt it, but—I do. I love you.”

Oh.

You had heard those words slip through his lips before, but now they sound different. It might be that keeping him at arm's length has felt like death by a thousand cuts, or perhaps it’s the realization that this is the first time someone’s declaring their love for you.

Fuck. He loves you. As in, he’s in love with you?

“Then why do you keep running?” You edge closer to him, your eyes trained on his. “I’m done with the chase, Logan. It’s tiring—I am tired. I’ve been sleeping like shit, trying to figure out what—”

His arms surround your body, cutting you off and pulling you close. The hammering of his heart matches yours, and you return the hug, nuzzling your nose against his neck.

You fear that this might be all you’ve ever needed, feeling as if the pieces he took from you in the past are finally falling back into place.

Logan holds you as if in a past life he lost you, but now, he’s decided to never let you go.

This profound sense of completeness, of being where you’re meant to be, makes you realize you’ve found home in the warmth of his embrace.

“I’m sorry. This… this scares me, alright?” he murmurs next to your ear, raking his fingers through your hair. “You make me feel things I didn’t think I could feel anymore. That’s what I’m running from—the part of me I thought was gone. But you… you brought it back.”

You feel a deep urge to curl up and cry, wondering why on earth he would ever think he was unworthy of being cared for. “Logan, I…”

“I sound pathetic, I know. It sounded way better in my head.”

“Don’t you dare say that.” You retreat a bit, looking him in the eye. He stares down at you with a tenderness you’ve never seen before. “It’s not pathetic to voice how you feel. I want to know it all, want to know everything about you.”

“Everything?”

“Yes, everything. But I need you to promise me that you won’t run away anymore. I know it’s difficult, but it’s not fair to any of us.”

His eyes peer directly into yours, and he gives a nod. “I promise to do my best.” He presses your foreheads together, and that’s when his mouth turns into a grin. “You’re not going to say it back?” he teases, gripping your waist. “Come on, I said it first. Twice, for the record.”

Lifting your shoulders in a half-shrug, you find it hard to conceal your smile. “I may need a bit more convincing.”

Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me.

Before you know it, his lips are on yours, almost making you lose your balance. You whimper into his mouth, tightening your arms around his neck as his tongue wastes no time in finding yours, stroking it sensually.

The wait had been definitely worth it—you’d do everything all over again if it meant having him kiss you like this at the end of the day.

He tilts your face so that he can deepen the kiss, and a whine gets caught in your throat when his fingers pull gently at the hair at your nape, nibbling at your bottom lip.

“I love you, too. Very much, to be honest,” you blurt out against his mouth, pleased with the way he laughs at your reaction, squeezing your hips. “But I still have some ideas in mind.”

“I’m all ears.”

Here goes nothing. “Fuck me like I’ve been asking you to.” You cup his cheek, guiding his lips into yours one more time. “Please,” you mewl, standing on your tiptoes. “Want you to be my first.”

If it were up to you, you would’ve begged him to take you right there on the kitchen floor. But Logan, ever the gentleman, insists on moving things to his room.

Each of his movements is slow, igniting your skin with a burning heat, leaving his name imprinted where his teeth sink into your soft flesh.

You’re left in nothing but your underwear by the time he murmurs: “Let me take my time with you.” He trails his lips down your chest, your stomach, until he’s planting several kisses along your ankle. “I don’t know how I got so lucky, baby. Look at you.”

Under his gaze, you feel shy, your eyes snapping to the ceiling instead. “Shut up,” you say, tugging at his shirt to undress him, your fingers tracing the lines of his abdomen before you pull him into a bruising kiss, sucking on his tongue.

He strips out of his black slacks and hovers over you, his clothed cock grinding against your throbbing core, eliciting a moan from both of you. “So goddamn beautiful. Can’t believe you’re mine.” His tip grazes your entrance through the fabric, making your toes curl in ectasy. “I’m gonna make you feel good, I swear.”

At first, he’s extremely careful, making sure to stretch you out with his fingers while you stroke him, pumping your fist to match his rhythm. “Keep that up and this’ll be over sooner than expected,” he warns, taking one of your nipples into his mouth.

It doesn’t happen like it does in the books or movies. No foreplay could’ve prepared you for the moment he enters you.

You move clumsily beneath him, your nose bumping into his forehead as he eases the first inch of his length inside.

For a moment, you’re not certain which hurts most: the dull ache in your nose or the way he’s splitting you open.

Logan freezes, his eyes wide in concern. “Shit. I’m sorry, sweetheart. Are you okay?” His hand cradles your face as he props himself up on one forearm, pushing your hair back while you adjust to his size. You laugh despite the sting, and he wipes away your tears with his thumb. “You’re laughin’?”

“I’m just happy,” you manage to get through the lump in your throat, raking your nails down his back, feeling the rough texture of the scars beneath your fingers. “I love you. Since that day at the bar, I—” you pause for a second, gasping at the sudden wave of pleasure when he twitches inside you. “I’ll always l-love you. Forever.”

As you wrap your legs around his waist and tell him you’re ready, something inside him shifts.

He feels like a madman, his eyes fixed on your face the whole time, searching for any hint of discomfort, though he occasionally glances down at the place where your bodies meet and become one, entranced by the sight of you taking him in, slick coating his length.

Your heels dig into his lower back, pulling him back to the present—back to you, with your pretty tits bouncing each time he pistols his hips, the intensity of his thrusts increasing.

“All those times you took care of me, when you—Fuck,” he groans, nipping at your jaw to regain some of his composure, his humid breath dampening your skin. Your scent drives him wild, and he reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “You made me feel loved when no one else did. My girl, love you so f-fucking much.”

His pace is nothing more than a voiceless testament to everything he feels but can’t find words to express.

With each minute that passes, your dripping cunt grips him tighter and tighter, his thrusts losing finesse. He needs you to come first—why does he feel like a virgin?

When you tell him you’re close, the world around him turns into a musical. You cling to the sheets, the mattress creaking noisily as he clutches the headboard, determined to find that angle that will push you over the edge.

“That’s it, sing for me,” Logan mutters from above, hypnotized by the crease forming between your brows. “Come on, let go.”

Time seems to slow down as your muscles tense and you clamp around him, your body sagging against him. His name spills from your lips in breathy whimpers, like an endless prayer, and your mouth engulfs his, tongues and teeth clashing in a fevered kiss.

Soon after that, he surrenders to the coiling tension deep within him, pulling out just in time to stroke himself once, twice, before emptying his hot load across your mound.

You gently thumb the head of his cock, coaxing out every last drop of his hot seed. He’s panting as he comes down from his high, his brain foggy and blissfully blank for a while.

Logan loses track of how many times he tells you he loves you—he does it when he pulls you into his chest, when his lips press against your temple, and when you crack that smile, the one that resembles the very purpose of his existence.

“So this is what it feels like.” His voice sounds low like a murmur near your ear, and you stir, half-asleep.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing, baby. Just thinkin’ aloud.”

You don’t have to talk about it, at least not now. Deep down, he knows that whatever thoughts run through his mind will somehow find their way into yours.

This is what life looks like. You should take a moment and feel it. You still have time.

And God, is he feeling it.

dividers by: @cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

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frecklystars · 10 months ago

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ken is the type of boyfriend to want to surprise me with my favorite pastry (donuts) to cheer me up but doesn't know which one i'd want the most so he just gets all of them. comes home with 15 dozen boxes. we end up having to share them with the entirety of barbieland or else they'll go bad (hey, if plastic milk can expire, so can plastic donuts)!

driver brings home apple pie bc he assumes it's my favorite. it's not. well, apple is my favorite pie flavor, but pie itself is not my favorite pastry.

...but i would never tell him that, bc i love our routine of eating apple pie together at our favorite diner at two in the morning and i'd be sad if that ever stopped. sure, we could get donuts at 2am, but it wouldn't be the same. the fact that he'd go out of his way to drive us to a diner and sit us down and drape his jacket over my shoulders while sharing a slice of pie with me -- i dunno. it's nice.

#if the ice cream at the beach is free im assuming the donuts would be too #you think Tall Ken paid for his own ice cream when he bought himself and Beach Ken ice creams? please.#Kens have no money they have no car they have no job they have no house they have no crotch they have NOTHING #except my unconditional love and support 24/7 #if ken ever has to buy anything he's on his knees begging barbie 'PLEASE BARBIE WILL YOU BUY DONUTS FOR OUR SWEET GIRL???'#but he'll say her name like Ryan did when he was running toward her at the bus stop --#BARBAY!!! BARBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!! ...y'know like that.#god i need to watch the movie again #i watched it last night but i need it AGAIN #love notes #💕 I'll fight for you!! - ̗̀🐎🏖️✨ ̖́-#💕♬♪ ♡ I do nothing but think of you - ̗̀💙🔨 ̖́-#every time driver says 'i got you pie... it's your favorite :)' im like uh huh :)#looking him right into those ocean blues and lying. yes it's my favorite. how'd u know babe??#if i ever told him i'd prefer donuts or cake he would change the routine surely #but where's the fun in that when i look at apple pie with so much fondness now #just like i used to not care for skittles but now i like to eat them every now and then #because Six eats skittles and Ryan talked about how Six would eat skittles in the field #i love associating food with F/Os i love them urging me to eat and to eat well #i'll be laying in bed feeling awful and then i'll think... 'barbie would want me to eat' so it makes me get up #hey whatever works right!!#woof #love notes: driver ♡#love notes: ken ♡

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bamsara · 4 months ago

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I think that one thing people fail to understand is that unsolicited literary criticism coming from an online stranger who is reading with no knowledge of what the authors intended goal is, is not going to be received the same as say: the authors beta reader or friends who know what the authors intended goal and has the sufficient knowledge and input to help the author reach that desired outcome.

"But I'm only trying to be helpful" How do I know you have the knowledge and literary skill for you to be able to actaully do that when we don't know each other and you are essentially a stranger to me? Are you applying this criticism based out of personal biased experience and desire to see the story or characterization be driven in another direction or tweaked, or do you know the author's intentions for the character? If the story is incomplete, are you basing your criticism of a character on the incomplete narration with only partial information available of them or are you building up a report until the story's completion? Did the author provide you with the information needed to make a fully informed criticism?

Have you discussed with the author what their plans are or are you assuming them based off the narration, especially if the narration is proven or implied to be unreliable or missing key points of the plot? Are you unbiased enough to help them reach their desired outcome for the characters and story regardless of your personal feelings towards the characters/antagonists and setting? Can you handle being told your specific input isn't wanted because you're a reader and/or have no written anything relating to their genre or topic? Do you understand and respect that the author's personal experiences might influence their writing and make it different than how you would have done it personally? Do you understand if an author only wants input from a specific demographic relating to their story?

If it's for fanfiction or other hobby media, are you holding a free hobby to a professional standard? Are you trying to give criticism because you feel like the author has produced 'subpar job performance' of their fic? Are you viewing their work as a personal intimate outlet or something that must conform with mass media? Are you applying rules and guidelines when the fic is shared for simple sharing sake? Is your criticism worded appropriately and focused on the parts where the author has requested input on rather than a general dismissal and or disapproval?

Have you put yourself in a place where you assumed you have the input needed for the story to evolve better, or have you asked what the author needs and what they're having trouble with? Can you handle having your criticism rejected if the author decides their story doesn't need the change and not take it as a personal offense against your character? Are you crossing that boundary because you think you are doing the author a favor? Are you trying to be helpful, or do you just want to be?

I think sometimes when people hear authors go 'please don't give me unsolicited writing advice or criticism' they automatically chalk it up to 'this author doesn't want ANY constructive feedback on their stuff at all' and not "i already have trusted individuals who will help me with my writing goals and- hey i don't know you like that, please stop acting so overly familiar with me'

#small rant brought to you by: listened to my younger sibling's friend be very upset today because an original story she wrote gets bashed #the story itself is fine maybe a little fast paced but overall she was happy with it's progress #and there is this one dude who keeps trying to tell her that her story needs to go another direction to 'make sense' and it changes the end #after she's repeatedly explained she's happy with the outcome and does not want to expand on that plot point any further #dude says she's 'unreceptive to criticism' no dude you're just being a dick #constructive criticism helps the AUTHOR reach THEIR intended goal #not steer the story in the direction a reader wants to see it go #sara shush #pls don't reblog with any 'but i take unsolicited criticism all the time' this isnt about you. your boundary is not other people's boundary

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ashes-of-ailell · 1 year ago

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man me posting that tier list suddenly makes Lucien's dislike of Lorenz make sense huh

(little rant in my tags just cause I'm a bit nervous, would mean a lot of you read (it's nothing too serious dw, just wanted to clarify some things))

#I say all of this light heartedly #at this point I'm aware that I do kinda play up my dislike of Lorenz #I dislike him! but not as much as I may lead people to believe! I'm mostly doing this jokingly haha #just wanna put that out there cause I know a few people who do like Lorenz and I don't want anyone to feel uncomfy or bad #<3 love yous!#I try not to. actively. hate on any characters.#because I don't want anyone to see me posting negativity (cause nobody needs that) or to make anyone feel left out #please feel free to talk to me about your favourite characters even if I personally do not like them or have a different opinion about them #I'm not gonna be like 'i hate this character why are you talking to me' because that's just mean #(if you don't like people talking to you about characters you don't like that's fine. I meant I'm not gonna actively put people down-#-because we have a difference of opinion you know? I'm not saying don't set boundaries if a character upsets you)#please feel free to talk to me about Lorenz or whoever I would love to hear what you have to say #maybe you'll change my mind? who knows! I like hearing people be enthusiastic about characters they like #even if I don't personally like them #so I hope people don't feel discouraged to talk to me about characters they like just because I posted that tier list #it's 2am and I did it because I was bored mainly haha not to start anything #and as I said if anyone wants me to go into further detail about some of the placements #I would be more than happy to just send me an ask haha (or a DM if you wanna talk privately I don't mind)#I'm here to have fun with a game I love and I hope the same goes for all of you too <3

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nightprompts · 11 months ago

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&. 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐬 (𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬?) 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

( various dialogue prompts to send to your worst enemy (affectionate). feel free to change how you seem fit. )

❛ oh great, it's you again. ❜

❛ you? kill me? that's funny. ❜

❛ for being someone you hate, i'm sure on your mind a lot. ❜

❛ you're the last person i wanted to see, actually. ❜

❛ do us both a favor. stay away from me. ❜

❛ you really are an asshole, you know that? ❜

❛ i'm the asshole? what does that make you then? ❜

❛ sometimes i think you must hate me. ❜

❛ i thought you said you never wanted to see me again. ❜

❛ if you want me to go, then you have to tell me to leave. ❜

❛ well, someone's cranky today. ❜

❛ well, someone needs to shut the fuck up. ❜

❛ just stay out of my way. ❜

❛ of all the idiots in the world, i'm stuck with you. ❜

❛ what is it you want this time? ❜

❛ sometimes i wonder if you're in love with me. ❜

❛ do you honestly think this is easy for me? ❜

❛ why would i ever want to be friends with you? ❜

❛ can we please just talk? ❜

❛ there is nothing for us to talk about. ❜

❛ you can yell at me later. just let me help you. ❜

❛ touch me, and you're dead. ❜

❛ oh, so now you care? ❜

❛ there is something deeply wrong with you. ❜

❛ i know i'm the last person you probably want to see, but... ❜

❛ you don't think we could be friends, do you? ❜

❛ i'm tired of fighting against you. ❜

❛ don't pretend you give a shit about me. ❜

❛ you're an idiot, but... i trust you. ❜

❛ oh, don't be cute. ❜

❛ wait, did you just say that i'm cute? ❜

❛ we're not good for each other. ❜

❛ if i say yes, will you shut up? ❜

❛ don't you have to be stupid somewhere else? ❜

❛ maybe we should kiss just to break the tension. ❜

❛ i'm sorry i can't turn off my feelings as easily as you. ❜

❛ maybe there's a universe out there where we're friends. ❜

❛ how can you be so smart yet so dumb at the same time? ❜

❛ don't think this changes anything between us. ❜

❛ you look ridiculous in that outfit, by the way. ❜

❛ if you die, i'll kill you. ❜

❛ is that a challenge? ❜

❛ ah, so you're not heartless after all. ❜

❛ i don't think i've ever seen you smile. ❜

❛ you never cared about me, so why now? ❜

❛ why didn't you kill me when you had the chance? ❜

❛ i don't even remember why we started fighting. ❜

❛ i don't have time for distractions right now. ❜

❛ you're not as bad as everyone says you are. ❜

❛ enemies make the best lovers, you know. ❜

#rivals #enemies to lovers #sentence starters #dialogue prompts #roleplay memes #roleplay prompts #rp prompts #rp memes #inbox memes #ask memes #ship sentence starters #ship prompts #random dialogue

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scentedpeachlandcreator · 10 days ago

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how i manifested my dream life with extremely hard circumstances + how you can too ♡

Note: this is not my post and it's blushydior's post that everyone been searching for, so i thought why not making it as a post,and blushy if you see this, please don't kill me i know you said that you'll change your post but you disappeared After that.

♡ table of contents:

1. the importance of making this post

2.my take on manifestation + the 3D

3. HOW I DID IT - my journey in 4 phases i went through that include my mindset changes up to the moment i got my desires

4. your new rules & routine from this moment on

5. a note from me!

6. frequently asked questions: separated into topics regarding the 3D, self concept + miscellaneous questions to have you leaving this post stress free.

now let’s get into it. read every bit of this post “ ~ ୨୧ ♡ ·

I. THE IMPORTANCE OF MAKING THIS POST

i’ve been through it all. you can read my experiences from old life in the “my life before” section of my success story + here, here, here and here. this is my success story on how the law of assumption has changed my life. as you can see from the “how” section of the post, i had purposely left it short, sweet and simple to avoid people complicating the simplicity of the law of assumption. but as time went on, anons and other blogs made me realize that since people do tend to over-complicate the law, the need i felt to make an in-depth post on how i personally manifested through my hard circumstances grew strong.

my blog often highlights topics that pertain to mental health, so i want to make sure those who find themselves in the same situations as i once were feel seen, heard and loved. you are all so powerful, amazing and hold so much potential more than you know. with this post, i hope i am able to help you realize that fact to the best of my abilities.

𝐈𝐈. MY TAKE ON MANIFESTATION + THE 3D

something that you’ll see me say all the time is: “life is a blank canvas.” that’s because it truly is.

remember that you are working with the law of assumption. what you assume to be true, is true. nothing is set in stone unless you say it is. things have meaning only if you assign it one.

you are the sole creator of your life. you are the artist that controls the brush/pen, you control what goes on and off of this very malleable canvas we call life. you don’t have to do anything. therefore,

you don’t have to: affirm 24/7, be specific, word your affirmations correctly, listen to subliminals, ignore the 3D, be positive all the time, meditate, have high vibrations, script, visualize, do sats or lullaby, go into the void, affirm in the present tense, avoid the mirror, etc.

you can literally say a random word like “bonk” and if saying it means you have all your desires or money is constantly filling your bank account, then that’s what will happen!

“but what if my subconscious doesn’t know what it means?” your subconscious mind is literally you. it’s not some stranger separate from you. if you want a scene to play out a certain way on a specific date or a romantic partner with all the most perfect qualities even if you can’t name it all at the top of your head, your subconscious has your back with the details! you have your own back. don’t worry.

YOU DON’T HAVE TO IGNORE THE 3D.

read that again and again and again and again and-if your circumstances are quite literally in your face, how can you turn the other way and ignore it? you could if you wanted but you’ll only be doing more harm and we don’t want that, right?

“so then what do i do?” you KNOW it’s going to change. it’s challenging when you don’t fully believe the law to know it’s going to change, so for a start, tell yourself that this is not the end. why? because the moment you had a desire and claimed it as yours, it has already been set stone in the 4D so the 3D has no choice but to reflect it. this is your movie, you KNOW this is not the end. you are director and star of this movie! you control how it’s going to play out.

𝐈𝐈𝐈. HOW I DID IT - The 4 Phases (more so, 3)

PHASE 1:

i found out about manifestation from tiktok. from there i have tried scripting, law of attraction and had taken a liking into the craft. i tried it all until i found out about the law of assumption, sammy ingram and finally, tumblr.

PHASE 2:

upon finding out about loassumption tumblr, i had learned more and more about the law but as time went on, i had realized i had never really fully tried to apply the law. the idea just didn’t come about to apply it. as many others, i had overconsumed information, always wondering if i was doing it right, questioning the 3D,

so i took a break. upon discharge, i realized many things and decided to spend an extended amount of time alone, away from social media. i’m someone who values alone time as long as if it’s spent wisely.

during this time away from tumblr and sns platforms in general, constantly surrounded by other people’s takes, information, and opinions, i had learned so much about the law of assumption on my own! i went into the law of assumption with a fresh mind, actually applying the knowledge and overtime of affirming and persisting, i ACTUALLY understood the meaning behind “creation is finished. it is done.”

i’m advising you to step away from social media (that on it’s own has negative impacts) and be alone with your thoughts. i know your thoughts haven’t had it’s time to be alone because you’re most likely constantly seeking information to help you. and i don’t blame you. it’s just that, you are always bombarded by thoughts that aren’t your own, you barely give some time to yourself to think for yourself!

PHASE 3:

and if you can’t help but be on tumblr for other reasons than loassumption, unfollow blogs for the time being, scroll past informational posts to avoid second guessing your application. tell yourself that

YOU ARE DOING EVERYTHING RIGHT!

when it was time to apply the law, i simplified it. you choose what you desire, you affirm from your desire and persist. okay! got it. so that’s what i did. i affirmed whenever i thought about my desire, i kept saying that it is done! so in phase 2, i mentioned how i realized how creation was ACTUALLY done, right? before deciding to apply the law, i kept seeing posts saying that but i didn’t really fully understand it until the realization hit me during my time away from social media. (see? i love alone time. solitude is my bff) — here’s my breakdown for you:

once you decide a desire is yours to claim, THE SECOND you affirm that, in your head, imagination, your 4D, it is ALREADY yours. therefore, it has no choice to become physical reality. (this is why your subconscious only needs to hear things once in order for it to conform!)

it will always be yours for as long as you sustain that assumption (persist), it is yours! no matter what.

this is the meaning of “it is done.” it’s like telling a chef what dish you want, once they know what you want, they’ve got you covered. except that this chef is you. you know the details of your desire, you declare it’s going to conform instantly so why are you worrying? there is no need to worry.

informational post on the 4D + 3D here:

❝ If you judge after appearances, you will continue to be enslaved by the evidence of your senses. To break this hypnotic spell of the senses you are told, "Go within and shut the door,” The door of the senses must be tightly shut before your new claim can be honored .Instead of fighting against the evidence of the senses you claim yourself to be that which you desire to be. As your attention is placed on this claim, the doors of the senses automatically close against your former master (that which you were conscious of being). As you become lost in the feeling of being (that which you are now claiming to be true of yourself) the doors of the senses once more open, revealing your world to be the perfect expression of that which you are conscious of being. ❞

i kept time away from social media and being persistent really helped me be aware of my thoughts.

persistence has helped me:

be aware of thoughts that i wouldn’t have been able to catch before. for example, i was declaring that i have all of my desires and creation was done, but i found myself affirming “okay but where is it?” — this made me realize i was questioning my desires in my 3D even though i knew it was done in the 4D. (you don’t have to do this, you can imply your 3D conforms fast with whatever affs)

flip and interrupt my intrusive thoughts faster and faster the more i persisted. i hated my intrusive thoughts so much. like it was so annoying and hurtful. it was filled with replaying past scenarios that happened to me, things i wished had played out differently, just people who absolutely did not deserve the right to be occupying my mind and space! so i was grateful to learn that with persistence, i started to have less and less of those.

(see!! mental diet, persistence!! <3 this is how habits form and strengthen duhh. remember not to abandon common sense for the law)

AND THEN, PHASE 4:

i had entered sabbath, the state of the wish fulfilled, calm and relaxation that my desire has already manifested and there wasn’t nothing left for me to do other than persist. after so much persisting and saturating my mind with my affirmations, i reached being peace with my desires. i’m really glad i persisted. see how after persistence of assumptions, though false, will harden into fact? see how even your affirmations would feel “fake” at first but will soon feel natural to you? this means that i wasn’t questioning where it was, how long it was taking, etc. but this doesn’t mean i was ignoring my 3D. i saw it all but i knew it was going to change BECAUSE i felt peace in my inevitable desires.

then, i received my desires.

❝ I couldn’t possibly be worried about anything if I really believe that imagining creates reality. ❞

❝ When I speak of feeling I do not mean emotion, but acceptance of the fact that the desire is fulfilled. Feeling grateful, fulfilled, or thankful, it is easy to say, “Thank You,” “Isn’t it wonderful!” or “It is finished.” When you get into the state of thankfulness, you can either awaken knowing it is done, or fall asleep in the feeling of the wish fulfilled. ❞

𝐈𝐕. YOUR NEW RULES & ROUTINE

☆┆YOUR 3 NEW RULES ARE:

1, you have all your desires

i have all of my desires

creation is finished. it is done.

2. you manifest quickly and easily

manifesting is always so easy and instant for me

i always manifest within 2 days or less, the 3D conforms instantly.

the 3D instantly reflect my 4D

the physical reality instantly reflects my 4D/imaginative reality

3. you are okay because nothing can stop you from getting the inevitable

everything is going to be okay because creation is done

i am always aware of my thoughts. nothing can stop/get in the way of my desires.

no amount of intrusive thoughts, events and opinions of others have the power to stop my manifestations.

✉️: choose one affirmation from each list or make one of your own that makes you feel comfortable.

☆┆ROUTINE:

affirm on loop as an act of saturating your mind whenever you think of your desire until you feel satisfied,

in the morning, after you wake up: saturate your mind with affs.

read the manifesting vaunt below everyday (whenever you feel like it) — read it over and over again until you feel confident then go about your day!!

at night, before you sleep, affirm this:

“i kept all my thoughts in check today. i didn’t waver once. my mind is completely saturated with the new story.”

optional tip: if you want to saturate your mind even more as a start, you can set reminders with sticky notes around your space, have affs on your phone lock screen or wear a bracelet.

✉️ NOTE: soon enough, your mind will be saturated and you won’t need to do this anymore. this is just a start for those who battle intrusive thoughts!

let yourself feel any emotions that may come up because of your hard circumstances then once it’s out of your system, affirm your rules, especially rule #3!

do not consume any loassumption information if you know it will only cause you to second guess your ability. if you have the urge to ask a blog a question, try to make sense of what they will say and answer it yourself.

in times of doubt, remember that life is a blank canvas. your desire is set in stone, so your only task is to persist.

REASSURANCE VAUNT

creation is ACTUALLY finished. it is done. the second i claimed my desires as mine, it has already manifested itself in the 4D so it has no choice to present itself in the 3D! all i have to do is affirm and persist. i always have unwavering faith in my manifesting abilities and the law. i never fail. i am successful at every single thing i do. manifesting is so effortless. no amount of doubt, worry, fear, anxiety, intrusive thoughts or events can ever, and i mean EVER stop my manifestations. why? because i said so. this is MY life. i make the rules. so if i say i manifest easily, the 3D conforms instantly and that i have all of my desires, then it is a FACT. i’m literally unstoppable. everything i want is inevitable. my only task is to persist, sit back and relax as the 3D reflects my 4D. it all happens so fast, but what else do you expect from a master manifester like me?

SOMETHING TO NOTE:

most of the time, people think affirming on loop is saying it like a robot but what you don’t realize is that you’re affirming as if you’re reading a book. it’s not filled with enthusiasm but it’s not exactly monotone either. stop overthinking it. it’s like the voice you’re reading this post with. correct?

again, soon enough, your affirmations will feel natural and you won’t feel the need to affirm constantly. the routine above was given for those who battle intrusive thoughts, making your affirmations dominate to the point where you don’t waver.

QUOTES on STATES:

❝ I paid thirty dollars for my first suit. Today a suit will cost me $200.00, but regardless of the cost, when the suit is new I am aware of it. But let me wear it long enough for it to feel natural and I will no longer be conscious of it. The same is true for a state. You may desire the state of fame. If you will think you are famous and remain conscious of the state long enough to make it natural, as the thoughts flow from you they become a natural part of your body of beliefs, and the world will proclaim your fame. ❞

❝ I urge you to use your own wonderful creative power and deliberately move into the state of your choice. Make it now by occupying the state long enough so that it feels natural. Haven’t you had a suit of clothes that felt so new you were conscious of them every moment? I know when I bought my first suit I walked down Fifth Avenue thinking everyone I passed knew my suit was new. People passing paid no attention to me, but I was so aware, so conscious of my new suit. That’s exactly that happens when you move into a new state. If the state of affluence is new, you think everyone knows it, but no one knows or cares whether you are rich or poor, so walk in the state until it becomes natural. The moment the feeling is natural, wealth is yours! ❞

𝐕. ENDING NOTE

i love you. read that again. you can do it. read that again. i am so so so so proud of you. read that again! you are so strong, you have SOO much potential and power. it’s time for you to tap into it, angel. stop making excuses. stop telling yourself you can’t do it. stop the nonsense! you’ve dealt with your hard circumstances long enough, it’s time for you to turn to the person who can make that change (you) and make it happen. i’m really sorry you have to go through what you did. you certainly do not deserve the unkind treatment. give yourself a hug and tell yourself that this. is. it. you’re going to make the change. you know it and i do too. it’s possible. nothing is impossible for the person who believes! keep the faith in yourself. nothing can stop you.

it’s like those movies where the mc finds out they hold so much power. they doubt it because of the life they’ve had so far but once they give it a shot, they become the most powerful hero ever. you are that hero!!!

i love you and i am, again, giving you the biggestttt hug ever.

now, with that being said, @blushydior will no longer be taking asks regarding this topic. i’ve cleared most of the questions that could ever arise. you don’t need my guidance anymore after this post! im seeing you off now. i love you. stay safe. know that you’re loved and hold the power to change your life.

— kisses from bambi ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

ps. make sure you clicked the words that have links! <3 (the links are missing)

𝐕𝐈. FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS

Something you wish you could’ve told yourself before you manifested it all to make things easier for anyone struggling:

TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF.

you guys are beating yourself up for something so simple. take a step back and realize that. you’re already dealing with such hard circumstances, so why are you literally degrading yourself for something so within your power and reach? tell yourself everything is going to be okay. you’re always doing your best. you deserve the WORLD.

I could write a whole novel, combine all the posts on tumblr teaching the law of assumption, and every helpful ask out there but at the end of the day, YOU are the only person who could change your life. YOU make the call. turn every doubtful question to a positive one, when in doubt, turn inwards toward the 4D and know that it is real. it is done the second you affirmed it so.

SPEND TIME ALONE.

i can NOT stress this enough. i didn’t include the details of my time alone in phase 2 for nothing. you’ll see that you can answer your own questions. you’ll catch the thoughts you missed because you have always been so adamant on getting answers to questions you already knew. take a deep breathe and stay firm.

SEE WHAT’LL HAPPEN IF YOU DON’T GIVE UP.

What did you affirm to get your dream life?

basically my affirmations i gave above and these. all i used were blanket affirmations.

What does persisting mean to you? What does persisting really feel like? Is it just like a mental diet? or what?

“persisting is sticking to what you want / the end no matter what you’re shown, told, and what you experience + picking yourself up after letting any negative emotions & thoughts pass by.” — blushydior from this ask here (sadly the link is missing:()

+ keeping your thoughts in line of the same category. to word this in a different way, i can affirm so many affirmations just as long as they mean the same thing to me!

“it also is a mental diet. we’re always persisting in something. it’s just a matter of what you’re persisting in. you either persist in your desire or negative/non-beneficial thought 24/7.”

“in your post about how you changed your life, you said you just affirmed and persisted. but from your other posts it seems like you read neville goddard books. so did you just affirm or did you do imaginal acts too? i get confused when people say “just affirm and persist” cause neville never said that.” (original ask here) (note from Eli: the link is missing).

“yes, i read his books and sometimes i would do imaginal acts but i would only do that bc it helped me get by my circumstances, yk? like if i was overwhelmed i would just daydream lol. its like how i read books to escape to another world. but i would say, affirming and persisting was what i focused more on.

i just used what worked for me and used his quotes as a reminder of the power of man. i didn’t want to bound myself to one’s teaching constantly worrying if im doing it “right” or not so instead, i went back to his quotes that consisted of telling me to persist, look inwards, finding confirmation in my imagination, etc whenever i needed a pick me up.

but correct me if i’m wrong, i’m pretty sure many of the success stories he shared consisted of people simply decreeing their desires and feeling the wish fulfilled simply by repetition and acceptance of their assumption.”

What is saturating your mind?

read about it here (the link is missing, but Basically it is repeating an affirmation every minute or hour until you feel fulfilled)

Do we have to believe our affirmations? Did you ever doubt the law in the process?

no, i did not believe my affirmations and YES of course i doubted the law but i kept persisting either way because what could i lose? and here i am.

Did you just affirm, persist, maintain a mental diet and that’s it? No SATS, going to the void, lullaby, repeating affirmations? Did you just got it sleep?

just affirming and persisting. sure, the occasional lullaby, i usually affirmed for 10 seconds max before i gave up. i couldn’t sleep without imagining some romantic scenario LOL #bambiexposed

How to deal with manipulation and narcissism?

remind yourself that you’re in advantage because you know about the law of assumption. life is a dream, you can literally have whatever you want just by affirming. if you know that, why allow yourself succumb to other people’s thoughts and beliefs? i couldn’t allow other people’s thoughts ruin my chance of living my dream life. the thought of it alone gave me the worst feeling.

How did you tackle the feelings of having no hope? + After being in the victim state for so long what did you do to get yourself out and actually stay out?

i persisted on loop whenever i doubted the law. i reminded myself that it doesn’t hurt to just be quiet, affirm and persist to live my dream life. just do it. you gain nothing from turning back to your old habits. see what’ll happen if you don’t give up. ❝ Do you always turn to your imagination and, no matter what happens, do you remain faithful to the state imagined? If you do, you have passed the test. But if every little rumor, doubt, or fear can move you around like a pawn on a chessboard, then you are not keeping the faith! ❞ ❝ Objects seem so independent of our perception of them that we incline to forget that they owe their origin to imagination.❞

What was the timeframe of when you got your desires?

about a week after deciding to be strict with self discipline, mind you, i was dealing with hard circumstances and intrusive thoughts for years. within this time span, i had entered sabbath so i immediately got my desires.

How did you kept a positive mindset when it looked like there was no movement?

refer back to phase 3

What was your affirming routine?

AT FIRST, when i started to get sick of overconsumption and not getting my desires, i knew my mind wasn’t saturated/my desires were not my dominant thoughts. so, i decided to be strict with myself. i reminded myself with pieces of paper in my room that said: ❝ PERSIST. new story only!❞ ❝ AFFIRM!❞

❝ 1.) the 3D conforms instantly.

2.) AFFIRM THE DESIRED

3.) BE LOT.❞

and taped them on the wall infront of my bed & one on my door so i can see it before i head out.

i didn’t need them anymore after a few days. (phase 3 & 4)

What did you do on all the days you woke up and things were still the same?

stop affirming that you don’t see results. i flipped the thought of “nothing’s changed.” to “i am in my desired reality, it is done.” and so on. be stern and remind yourself that you are in control. don’t fall prey to the 3D. turn inwards, find confirmation in the 4D. read quotes above.

How did you not react to the 3D?

i allowed myself to be angry. if i wanted to cry, i did. if i wanted to vent, i did. i ranted my feelings out in my head, aloud or in a journal then proceeded to go back to the new story after i cooled down.

But isn’t ranting “not letting the old story die out?”

you and i could rant until our minds are cleared, just as long as you flip my thoughts, you are on the right track. i ranted for 2% of my 24 hour days. the other 98% i was persisting in the fact that creation was done. as “time” went on, it began to feel more natural and i felt more at ease. i held onto that feeling because i knew this was when i would get my desires and i did. letting out and actually feeling your feelings is important. you’re not a robot.

Did you script how your life would be?

no.

(.𖥔 ݁ note from Eli: here's her post about her life before and After she changed it with LOA, anyway i wanted to make it in a post since the Google document can't let you make a copie of it and plus you can't take screenshots which René didn't allow)

#law of assumption #loa tumblr #loa #loa blog #law of manifestation #how to manifest #loassumption #void state #affirm and manifest 🫧 🎀✨ ִִֶָ ٠˟#affirm and persist #vaunts & affirmations #4d reality #master manifestor #loa success #instant manifestation

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eternalsunrise · 3 months ago

Text

shower talk.

deadpool (wade wilson) x f!reader

wc: 750 (drabble)

tags! established relationship, sexual & murder references (duh)

notes! wade brainrot is so bad idk, logan fic coming soon pls forgive me

wade often barges into the bathroom while you’re in the shower just to sit on the toilet seat and rant about the mission he just went on, or even to ask what takeout you want for dinner. couldn’t it wait until you had clothes on? sure, but he wants to talk to you now.

unexpectedly, you decide to take a page out of his playbook.

you’ve just walked in the door after your 9-5, throwing your keys and bag haphazardly across the room in frustration. you spy the familiar rumpled up red and black suit on the floor, wade was home. you had complained last week about deadpool tracking blood into the apartment after his “work.” it seemed your boyfriend had listened and obliged. if it weren’t for your bad day, the image of him cupping his crotch as he scrambled naked into the bathroom would’ve made you smile.

you hear the water still running, but you finally understand how wade feels, this can’t wait. you open the bathroom door and throw the toilet lid down, unsure if wade even heard you enter over the sound of his own voice belting hall and oates’ greatest hits.

you sit down and let out an overdramatic sigh. your boyfriend’s voice quiets down halfway through “out of touch”

“honey bear? you’re home! these stab wounds will heal in about two minutes then you can join me. i know how you feel about seeing intestines, and i don’t want to make you gag…well scratch that i do sometimes—“

“i fucking hate men.”

you hear the sound of the shower curtain opening slightly, and wade’s head peaks out, looking at you with wide eyes, “woah language, babydoll! you know degradation turns me on.” his head tilts to the side, noticing the distress written on your face “but i have a feeling this isn’t about me…”

you spare him a narrowed glance, then watch as his head disappears. the curtain closes and you hear the water hit skin again as he resumes his shower. he’s giving you time to speak. remarkable.

“you remember that guy i told you about? the one that gave me major creep vibes? and was just an all around dick?”

you get a hum in response, and you can’t see it, but you know wade is physically biting his tongue so he doesn’t say anything. it’s endearing in a way.

you rub your face with your hands, the memory of what you’re about to say lights the fire of anger again, “well. guess who got that promotion i was being eyed for? i’ll give you a hint, it’s not someone with a vagina! and on top of that, i saw him try to look under my skirt as i was leaving! that fuck.”

you almost regretted telling him that last part, knowing where this was going. but your mind was clouded by frustration, and the water was already turned off. the rings screech against the metal shower rod as wade throws the curtain open, reaching over your head for a towel. “okay sweet thing. where does this cock suck and fuck live?”

your eyes catch a glimpse of red turning pink as it swirled into the tub drain. you shake your head, suddenly realizing the severity of what your mercenary boyfriend was implying. “no no babe please it’s not that serious! and you just got home. not to mention if people found out, you’d get in so much trouble all because of something silly that happened to me and—“

a long finger is placed over your lips. you’re eye level with wade’s v line, partially covered by the towel now wrapped around his waist. you trail your eyes upward, locking them with the one who interrupted your rambling.

“shhh. nonsense kitten. now. you’re going to tell me this guy’s address, and i’m going to go out for…” wade uses his free arm to look at a make believe watch, “hmm, about an hour. while i’m gone, you’re going to change out of this sexy pantsuit. then have a glass of wine, and touch yourself while you think of me fondly. i’ll grab dinner on the way home. yes?”

when you nod with wide eyes in agreement, he removes his finger, bending down to meet your face, “atta girl.” he praises as his lips graze your own, kiss light as a feather. he clears his throat then, patting your cheek a few times as he stands up to walk out of the bathroom. whistling as if murder was all in a day’s work (you suppose for him it is)

you sit there stunned, wondering if you just got your coworker murdered….and why you were so turned on.

#deadpool x you #marvel #marvel fic #deadpool and wolverine #marvel x reader #x reader #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson #deadpool fic #deadpool #wade wilson x you #deadpool smut #mcu x reader #mcu #mcu x you #deadpool x reader #deadpool fanfiction

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lovelettersfromluna · 5 months ago

Text

Welcome to the Party

Summary: what’s worse than your older brother?…..his extremely attractive best friend

an: this Ellie has been living rent fucking free in my head and I absolutely cannot carry on any longer without writing about her…..also my last Ellie fic was sickly sweet I need some mean!Ellie to soothe the burn 😌 (also credit to @absdoll for writing Ellie as someone who listens to PartyNextDoor?? That is a HUGE reason that inspired me to write this bc that is absolutely so very accurate)

Warnings: SMUT!!! MDNI!!! 18+ ONLY!!, angst!, toxic!Ellie, mean!Ellie, brothersbestfriend!Ellie, Ellie is just all around a piece of shit in this one idk, oral (r!receiving), mentions of alcohol, mentions of weed, Usage of the word slut, slight degradation, there’s a brief scene with reader and Jesse but they aren’t flirting I promise Ellie is just delusional, pls lmk if I missed anything!

“Please honeybee? It’ll only be for a little while. Your father and I will be back before you know it, just in time for you to go back with your friends” your mothers voice rang through the phone, her tone gentle and reassuring as she spoke to you.

You exhaled loudly in annoyance, toying with the hem of your sleep shorts as you laid in your bed, a soft pout on your face as you stayed silent for a moment, contemplating your mother’s wish.

“Baby? Are you there?” She tried. You can practically hear the way she bites her lip, chewing on the skin as she awaited your response.

“I….you do realize that Derek is the oldest sibling, right? Isn’t he supposed to be the one making sure I’m not getting in trouble?” You huff out, still holding out on giving her an answer to her request of you.

You hear her sigh over the line at the mention of your older brother. “I know sweetheart…but your father and I just need you to make sure he doesn’t burn the house down while we’re away. I’m sure it’ll only be him and Ellie there anyways” she tries assuring you.

But the mention of the girls name has your skin running cold.

It makes you pinch the bridge of your nose, inhaling deeply as you truly try to outweigh your options at hand.

Your brother was a fucking moron, and you knew that the minute he heard your parents were going away for the summer, he jumped at the opportunity to ‘house sit’. It was almost comedic how clueless he was, your parents knowing your older sibling far too well to know that he’d tear the house down brick by brick unsupervised, especially with his partner in crime there with him.

So it left your poor mother to ask her baby (you), to stay the summer at their house, just to make sure things didn’t get too out of hand.

The minute she called and asked you to go down there, your entire summer had changed. All of the plans you made with your friends at university, the trips you were to make with them, all suddenly fizzled out as you were faced with the task to spend the summer with your idiotic brother and his bully of a best friend.

As much as you wanted to say no, tell your parents to figure it out or simply tell your brother he couldn’t stay there for his break, you simply couldn’t find it in yourself to do that. Your parents were amazing to say the least, and the one time they actually chose to go away for the summer in one of the first times since you were born, you’d feel like an absolute villain to take that away from them.

You let out a low sigh before you finally spoke. “I’ll be there mom….you won’t have to worry about anything” you assured her, the sound of her sighing in relief putting a gentle smile on your face.

“Oh baby you are an angel. Your father and will come home as soon as we can, okay?” She assures you, to which you give a gentle chuckle before you nod.

“Have fun, okay? Tell daddy I said hi…I love you” you mumble out gently through the phone, bidding your goodbye to the woman before you hang up, letting out a loud sigh you’d seemingly been holding from the moment your mother asked you to go back home for the summer.

And as you stared up at your ceiling, you began to really think about it all. How bad could it possibly be?? It wasn’t like you were all kids still, there was no way Ellie and your brother would torment you the same way they used to when you were all younger, not when you were all adults in college, right?

Right?

You let out a soft sigh as you drove down the familiar road to your parents house, the street quiet as everyone there had similar situations to your mother and father, empty nesters who had time to get away for the summer.

Pulling into the driveway gives you a bit of relief, as you notice your brother hadn’t gotten there yet, which you could only chalk up to him and Ellie waking up entirely too late after a night of partying to get to the house at a decent time.

Some things just never changed do they?

Your brother and Ellie had been friends since elementary school, the two of them glued at the hip for almost as long as you could remember. While you really couldn’t stand the two of them, you had to say the perseverance of their friendship was kind of remarkable. You couldn’t take their bond away from them, no one could.

One day the house was only filled with your parents and your older sibling, the next there’s an extra person.

Ellie.

Things were fine in the beginning, the three of you would actually play all together for the most part. Sure, they would tease you and leave you out of certain things, but that’s what older siblings did. You were no stranger to the little sister treatment.

Things changed when they got to high school though.

The two of them started a year before you obviously, leaving you behind in middle school. You’d been through it with the transition from elementary to middle school, so you weren’t too worried. In fact, having the two of them enrolled before you was comforting in a way. It at least gave you a sense of belonging since you knew at least two people there.

But oh were you wrong.

Because in true teenage boy fashion, who the hell would want their little sister trailing behind them? No your brother and Ellie were far too cool for that, the two of them already the talk of the entire school, everyone wanting to be their friend. It was always like that, the dynamic duo absolutely stealing the hearts of everyone around them. They simply couldn’t have you asking for help on where your classes were, or even worse, having you eat lunch with them.

You weren’t even given the cold shoulder, they were just outright mean. Your brother wasn’t so bad, brushing you off and telling you to go somewhere else.

But Ellie? Oh she was vile.

She’d say the meanest things to get you to leave, laughing under her breath whenever you’d pass by, she’d even go out of her way to make her entire friend group ignore you for a week, pretending you didn’t exist at all.

Yeah, high school is when things got really bad.

You have up on keeping the familiar sibling bond you had with your brother rather quickly during your time in high school with him, ignoring the both of them when they were around, only really interacting with him whenever Ellie wasn’t with him, which was extremely rare.

Soon, you were going off to university, and you were able to live a life that wasn’t in your cool older brother’s shadow. You were able to be you, and thrive in a way that you really weren’t able to before.

You loved college for that.

But now you were back home where it all started, without the protection of mommy and daddy on top of that too.

You groaned softly as you finally brought the last of your things up to your room, sighing softly as you looked around at the familiar space, thinking about just how much time you’d be spending there for the next month and however many weeks.

You were almost done filling your empty drawers with your clothes when you heard the familiar roar of your brother’s black Jeep pull up the driveway outside, a familiar brunette sat in the passenger seat.

The plan was to steer clear of them entirely while you were all there. You were only there for your moms peace of mind, and you truthfully did not care what Ellie and your brother got up to for the summer, as long as it meant your parents house stayed in tact.

However once you’re finished packing and you decide to make your way downstairs to get a feel for things before they both arrive (or so you thought), you were only met with the sound of your brother and Ellie complaining very loudly as they walk in through the front door.

“I told you I don’t know! My dad said it was cool if we crashed here, they didn’t mention anything about her being here too.” Derek groans loudly, lugging his suitcase in behind him, unknowing of your presence stood in the very kitchen that he was walking in to.

You turn your head to catch the two of them walking in, your brother sighing in defeat as Ellie groans loudly behind him, throwing her head back in annoyance. “Do you know how much of a fuckin’ cock block she’s gonna be? I swear to god if she tries to so much as complain about the shit we’re having I’m gonna-“ you watch as your brother jabs his elbow into Ellie’s side, trying to get her to shut up once he spots you in the kitchen.

You roll your eyes as you close the fridge door shut. “It’s nice to see you too Ellie” you sigh out softly as you turn around, resting your forearms against the island counter top, leaning your hips against the edge as you watch the both of them eye you expectantly, your best guess being they wanted an explanation.

“What are you doing here?” Your brother mumbles out awkwardly, arms crossing over his chest as he gives neglects to even greet you properly.

You sigh softly before you shrug. “Mom called me and asked me to make sure you guys didn’t do anything stupid. Trust me, I’m just as upset as you are that I’m here” you mumble out, eyes casting downwards as your fingers trace along the pattern of the smooth counter top.

Ellie scoffs softly, mimicking your brother’s stance as her tattooed arms go to cross over her chest as well. “Is this some kind of sick joke? What are you even supposed to do anyways? Keep us in line or something?” Ellie barks out, obviously annoyed and wounded over the fact that your parents didn’t trust her.

You have to hold back a laugh, biting down on your bottom lip as you give her a shrug. “That’s something you gotta take up with the owner of the house, which unfortunately for you is not my brother” you hum out, your tone a tad playful as you give your brother a knowing look before rounding the table.

“Your summer is gonna be fine. In all honesty I couldn’t give a single fuck what you two do, just do it without breaking anything.” you explain, your tone softer as you eye Ellie for a moment.

You had to bite back a smirk when you caught a glimpse of their faces. Your brother was shocked with the way you were acting, his eyebrows raised and jaw slightly agape as you made your way upstairs.

Ellie on the other hand? She looked like she wanted to kill someone. Here you were, her best friends little sister, practically granting her entire summer a death sentence by your presence, at least that’s what it felt like. Her eyebrows were furrowed, nostrils flared, and you swore you could even catch her freckled cheeks growing pink with the anger that bubbled up inside of her.

And to be quite honest? It felt good.

Ellie was being ruthless

While you couldn’t say you didn’t expect it, you didn’t think it would be this bad. You of course knew that they’d be upset about you being there, but your brother’s reaction to the entire thing was much closer to what you prepared for than what Ellie was exhibiting. He was confused to say the least, but that didn’t mean he was rude to you. It was the same as any other time you and your brother were with each other, you weren’t close by any means, but you were his little sister.

Ellie on the other hand? She was like a bat out of hell.

You thought when they first got there, that would be the only time you’d get a taste of Ellie’s annoyance with your presence. You were adults after all, and there was no way she’d make your entire stay there a living hell, even when you weren’t the one that had the bright idea of staying there anyways.

Oh were you wrong.

That same night, you decided to make somewhat of a peace offering. You were honest in your words to them earlier, you didn’t have any interest in raining on their parade. Ruining their summer did little to nothing for you, even if they went out of their way to taunt and tease you when you were a kid, you didn’t dwell on any of that.

You prided yourself as somewhat of a good cook. You took over meals once you were old enough to stand at the stove without your parents doting over you, begging you to not burn yourself. Once you passed that hurdle, you all came to the realization that you were pretty good in the kitchen. You could even recall certain times where Ellie and your brother would ask you to make something for them, further proving your skills.

So while they were both in the front yard playing basketball, you knew they’d work up an appetite once they came inside. You took it upon yourself to start working on something with what your parents had in the fridge.

You were far too lost in thought once you got into it, humming softly to yourself as you stirred up what you were working on in a pan. You barely heard your brother and Ellie walk in together, chucking to each other at something Ellie was saying. The two were engulfed in the aroma of your yummy cooking the second they walked in, watching as you worked your way around the kitchen to cook something up for the two of them.

“You cooked?” Your brother asks curiously, moving to rest his forearms on the island as he watched you.

You hummed softly as you nodded, keeping your eyes on the various pots on the stove. “There wasn’t much in the fridge, so I’ll have to go food shopping tomorrow maybe…but I figured you’d both be hungry” you finally turn around, giving them both a half smile.

Your brother nodded, seemingly opening his mouth to thank you for the kind gesture, his stomach already grumbling for a taste of whatever it was that you were cooking, all of it smelling ten times better than anything he’d been eating for the past two years at college.

But Ellie was quick to cut him off, eyebrows furrowed as she gave you a death stare so intense, it was a miracle you hadn’t keeled over from it alone.

“We’re going out to eat” she deadpanned, her tone firm and harsh.

It makes you turn around fully after lowering all the spots on the stove, grabbing the kitchen towel you kept nearby and drying your hands off, your hips resting against the kitchen counter as you watched them.

Your brother frowned as he looked up at Ellie in confusion, the man clearly not have gotten the memo.

“We…are?….but you were just saying how tired-“ He mumbled out softly before Ellie landed a hard jab to his side with her elbow, making your brother quickly shut his mouth, getting her message loud and clear.

Ellie didn’t want anything from you.

You inhaled deeply, fighting back the urge to stoop down to her level, no matter how much it stung that she was doing this out of spite, simply over something that was asked of you.

“That’s…that’s fine. I hope you guys have fun” you gave them a nod and a soft smile before you turned around to continue working on the food that you’d be eating alone.

Ellie’s angry expression softened into a frown when you didn’t fight back, fully expecting you blow up and make her seem like the victim who’s getting her summer ruined by some fucking she-demon or something. But you didn’t, you simply bid them a good time and turned around to busy yourself with whatever you were doing.

Your brother frowned as he watched you turn around, already feeling bad for not only leaving you alone for the night, but making you eat alone felt even worse.

But Ellie was already scoffing, mumbling softly to your brother to come upstairs with her so they could get changed and leave so they could get something to eat, her eyes lingering on you angrily as she stomped upstairs like a child.

You spent that night alone, eating your dinner with a glass of wine, showering and watching a movie downstairs, silently hoping the pair would have a change of heart and walk through to spend the night with you, acting as a way to kick off the summer on a better note than it was already starting off on.

But they never did. You ended up doing all of that and more and they still didn’t get home. You decided to simply send your brother a quick text letting them know you’d leave the porch light on and to get home safe before you went to bed.

That wasn’t the end of Ellie’s little scheme of being terrible to you. No, that was honestly only the beginning.

The second time of her being mean was about a week later. You managed to stay clear of the both of them for a few days, busying yourself with getting the house situated for yours, Ellie and your brothers stay. You got a good amount of things done, groceries, laundry, getting your car through the car wash. You even picked up a dozen bagels from yours and your brother’s favorite bakery in the city nearby, knowing how much him and Ellie would appreciate them for breakfast, even if you knew she’d bitch once she knew you bought them.

But once all of those chores were done, you found that you’d started to run out of things to keep you occupied. There was no more laundry to do, no more groceries to buy, nothing more for you to tend to that would keep you away from the house.

You were bored out of your mind.

You sighed softly as you laid in your bed, staring up at your ceiling as you toyed with the hem of your denim shorts. You were contemplating what to do, how to entertain yourself in the confides of your bedroom. It was hard because Ellie and Derek spent almost all of their time in the living room, leaving you to either do things outside of the house, or stay in your room.

It made you sad, because you wouldn’t have this problem had you stayed at Uni. You would’ve been outside with your friends, at parties, restaurants, bars. Anything that there was to offer in the city, you’d be there.

Another huff passed through your lips, your arms moving down to rest against your pillow. You were beginning to get desperate, your mind void of any ideas to keep yourself occupied.

You sat up, looking towards your door for a moment before you looked back down at your hands in your lap, your mind falling deep in thought before you finally let out a sigh. You felt ridiculous, forcing yourself to be a prisoner in your own home for your own comfort. Ellie didn’t even fucking live here, this was your parents house and you deserved to walk around as you pleased!

So you finally tossed your legs over the edge of your bed, and opened your door to go downstairs.

The second your room door was open, you could hear Derek and Ellie downstairs, the two of them laughing and shouting at each other. As you walked down the stairs, you could hear the sounds of their video game playing through the speakers, paired with the sound of their fingers harshly clicking down on the buttons of their game controllers.

Video games sounded fun.

You hummed softly as you watched them from the bottom of the stairs for a moment before you walked into the living room, simply watching the two hunched over, completely locked in on their current match.

“Don’t fuckin’ push by yourself you’re gonna die. Lemme just heal really quick” you hear Ellie groan out to your brother.

“I’m good! I’m good I got this” your brothers words follow, a blanket of silence falls between the two of them, only to hear your brother and Ellie groan loudly in unison, followed by Ellie sucking her teeth in annoyance.

“I told you not to fucking-“ her words are cut short when she notices you in the corner of her eye, the girl deflating as she slouches back into the couch, her eyes back on the screen.

“Great…” she mumbles out, which you try your best to ignore before taking a spot on the opposite end of the couch, tucking your legs underneath yourself as you nod towards the tv.

“How many have you guys won so far?” You hum out softly.

Your brother’s eyes don’t leave the tv screen as he responds, fingers already clicking away at his controller the second Ellie managed to resurrect him in the game. “A good amount…especially when Ellie’s here to save my ass” he grins out, which earns an annoyed sigh from Ellie.

You hum softly as you nod, watching as their characters run around on the split screen, the two of them looting and taking out other players as the number of people in the game grows lower and lower, waiting until the game was almost over.

“Could you guys use a third?” You ask softly after clearing your throat, eyes still glued to the screen as you watch them play.

Derek licks his lips as he continues playing, his eyes quickly shifting over to Ellie for a moment to gauge her reaction to your question before he responds.

You and him would play video games all the time together, and there were even times where all three of you would play together. Sure, they’d do petty shit like leave your character in the storm to die when you needed help or made sure your controller was close to dying, but they’d at least let you play from time to time.

However, Ellie was quick to speak up and give you a response.

“No. You’re shit at this game” Ellie quickly responds, pink tongue sticking out of her mouth as she concentrates on the game.

While you can tell she’s not joking, her words make your brother chuckle softly as he gives her a gentle nudge. “I’m sure one game is fine? Watching her play will be kind of funny to be honest” he tried, yet Ellie wouldn’t budge.

She shook her head firmly. “Nah. She’s gonna fuck up our winning streak. Weren’t you upstairs anyway? Why did you even come down here….go back up” her eyes finally break away from the screen once the game was finished, looking over at you and nodding her head up towards the stairs.

And while Ellie would sometimes chase you away when she was over, it was always in good fun. Sure she was a dick to you but this?

This was so different.

It makes you choke up a bit, eyes widening at her words before you look at your brother, silently begging for him to defend you from the girls mean words.

But he doesn’t, he clears his throat, avoiding your eyes and grabbing his own phone to scroll through it so he wouldn’t have to be put into the awkward situation of getting between his sister and his best friend.

It makes you inhale deeply before you silently get up from the couch, slip past the two of them, and make your way back upstairs like Ellie told you to, your throat burning with hot tears as you tried your best to hide them from the pair on the couch.

Your brother finally looked up when you slipped passed the two of them, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he eyed Ellie. “I know she’s annoying but…that was kind of fucked up man” he mumbles out softly, his eyes lingering on Ellie for a moment only to watch her shrug, her eyes never leaving the screen.

“Shut up. She wouldn’t leave unless I was mean…” she mumbled out nonchalantly, which makes your brother sigh softly, turning his head back to the screen and starting another game.

You realized that this wasn’t a game. This was Ellie being awful to you for the sole fact that you were staying there and being a ‘cock block’, and in her book? That was more than enough of a reason to take her anger out on you.

It made you take one look at your bedroom when you finally got upstairs, tears in your eyes, when you realized that you had to get quite comfortable there, seeing as you’d be spending far more time locked up than you thought you would have.

You managed to avoid Ellie and your brother for the remainder of the week, for real this time. You had no interest in being around them or spending any time with them, not since Ellie made it very clear that she wanted nothing to do with you, and you were the bane of her very existence.

You decided that they could spend their summer like they wanted to, without you there.

Any time you needed something from downstairs, you’d either go and get it extremely early in the morning or late enough at night so that they wouldn’t be there, which was hard sometimes since they’d spend almost the entire night downstairs, drinking beers and eating snacks until they were too tired to go in anymore.

Tonight was different though.

Because tonight was the first Saturday of the summer, which meant anyone and everyone was looking towards your brother and Ellie for a party to kick things off. You knew they’d do it of course, but you knew it was actually happening once you could hear the faint noise of the two of them setting up downstairs, paired with the roaring sound of your brothers Jeep pulling in and out of the driveway, making multiple runs to the store for last minutes things for the party.

And your plan for the night? You were going to shower early to avoid any awkward drunk run-ins, take a melatonin, lock your room door, and fall asleep with your noise canceling headphones underneath a mountain of blankets. While it would be nice to let loose and party for a night, you wouldn’t dare even ask them if you could attend, already knowing Ellie would have quite the mean words in store if you tried that.

On the bright side, this all meant you were responsible for the clean up in the morning.

You let out a soft sigh as you tugged on a pair of sleep shorts and an oversized t shirt, moving to grab your bottle of melatonin gummies before you moved to sit on the bed, wanting to wind down a bit before bed.

Right as you were about to take your vitamin and lock your door though, you heard a gentle knock, making you frown as you looked over at it. Surly the party hadn’t started yet? Did you seriously have to put a note on your door to alert drunk idiots that your room was off limits for hook ups?

You frowned before calling out. “Go away! There are other rooms!” You called out loud enough, hoping that whoever was on the other side would get the memo.

Instead, you hear the knob turn, the door creaking open as your brother peaks his head in, making you sigh in relief.

“Oh…I thought you were some idiot party-goer” you explain as you scrunch your nose at the mere thought of it before you unscrew the top to your bottle. “What are you doing here? You have a party to host” you explain before you look up at him, only to find his eyes wandering your bedroom before he shrugs.

“Wanted to check on you…make sure you’re okay” he explains before he finally looks down at you, nodding towards the bottle of melatonin in your hand. “Going to bed already?” He asks, which you nod to.

“Yup…trying to get a heard start before the noise sets in” you hum out softly before you bring one of the gummies to your lips.

Your brother quickly speaks up before you can take it. “You should come down…for a little bit. It’ll be fun” he quickly gets out before you eat it. He knew the moment you took it, you’d be lulled away to sleep, and there was no chance in him reconciling with you tonight.

Because in all honesty, he felt horrible for the way Ellie had been treating you. Not only did he fear you’d tell your parents (he knew you wouldn’t), but he also felt like he was being a shit big brother for not standing up for you, even if he knew that you knew it was a tricky situation since Ellie was his best friend.

Your shoulders slump at his words, giving your brother an unamused look.

“Your friend wouldn’t even let me play video games with you. Do you seriously think she’d allow me to come down tonight l?” You groan out softly before you shake your head, bringing the gummy to your lips once again. “I’m gonna go to bed. I don’t have time for either of you” you sigh softly.

Your eyes widen when your brother steps forward and slaps the gummy from your hand. “What the hell Derek??” You shriek out, which only makes him groan in annoyance.

“It’ll be fun! And Ellie will be too drunk or high or both to even notice you’re there…” he whines out like a child, which makes you roll your eyes.

A blanket of silence falls between the both of you as you think about it, weighing out the pros and the cons of going downstairs and joining everyone, risking the chance of Ellie blowing up on you the second she sees you there, assuming you’re attending for the sole purpose of shutting down her fun.

Derek sighs softly as he moves to sit down next to you on your bed. “I’ve been a shitty older brother…and you deserve to have fun this summer too” he hums out softly before he leans over, nudging your shoulder gently with his.

“Come on…it’ll be fun” he urges once more, and it reminds you of when you were both kids, your brother slowly turning into the person that you recognized rather than the person he was whenever he was around Ellie or his other friends.

You finally sigh out softly before looking over at him, giving him a slight nod. “I’ll change and come down once I hear the music start playing…I’m sure that gives her enough time to get her drunk goggles on” you hum out playfully as you refer to Ellie.

Your brother smiles brightly, his mimicking your own before he nods. “You’re gonna have fun” he affirms once more before he gets up to leave your bedroom, closing the door behind him so he could get downstairs and finish setting up.

A soft sigh leaves your lips as you look down at your clothes, frowning at the faded band t shirt paired with the frayed ends of your old sleep shorts.

You needed to change.

It wasn’t long until you could hear the faint sound of the loud music booming through the house, paired with the various cars that slowly started piling up in your driveway and along the side of the ride in front of your house, the party guests making their way to your place like clockwork.

You had changed into a pair of baggy blue jeans that hung low on your waist, and a simple white tank top hugged your curves in a way that looked like you put in way more effort that you actually did, wanting to keep things comfortable enough that you could slip out of it the second you wanted to dessert the place for the safe haven that was your bedroom.

The party was in fully swing by the time you made your way downstairs, a person filling up everyone single space as music blasted loudly throughout the entire place. You inhaled deeply, slipping past the growing sea of people to get to the kitchen, and get a drink.

Your eyes scanned the space as you stayed leaned up against the counter, red solo cup pressed against your lips as you babysat the mixture of liquid and soda, people watching as everyone around you became acquainted with one another, your drink making you grow warmer and warmer with each passing second.

Like a stroke of luck, you catch an empty spot on the once full couch. It makes you sigh in relief, once again slipping past the bodies in your house to catch it before someone else does, which you thankfully do. You plop down onto it, bringing your cup to your lips as you rest your head against the back of the couch.

You didn’t even realize how drunk you were until Jesse, one of your brother’s old friends plops down next to you with a loud sigh. The second he was next to you, the strong smell of weed was filling up your lungs, you swore you felt the tiniest bit high from the smell alone.

“If I so much as smell a blunt, your tv is gonna grow legs and start walking away” he groaned out, making you stifle a laugh.

The sound catches his attention, the man turning his head to look at you, his hazy expression slowly tugging into a smile.

“Nooo way. I remember you! You’re Derek’s little sister” he gasps out, which makes you hold back a laugh before you nod.

“I am in fact his sister” you confirm.

To be frankly honest, you’d known Jesse since high school. He was pretty close with Ellie and Derek, he was actually the only one out of the group of gremlins that was actually kind to you whenever they were all around. However he was currently so far gone, he could barely remember that you two already knew each other.

“Maaan I haven’t seen you in so long! He didn’t tell me you’d be here” he chuckles softly, bringing his hands to his face as he groans softly.

“I’m…I’m sorry I’m so high right now. I can barely think” he apologizes, the man visibly melting into the couch as he lets his hands fall down beside him, staring off into space.

You giggle softly as you shake your head, bringing your cup to your lips as you take another sip of your drink. “You’re fine Jesse…the companies nice” you nod before you rest your head back against the back of the couch, allowing Jesse to carry on with his belligerent complaints.

You were so consumed with Jesse’s rather entertaining word vomit, that you barely noticed a certain someone eyeing you from the other side of the couch.

Ellie had been there the entire time, too high and too drunk (like your brother said she’d be) to even notice you had taken a spot at the end of the couch. It also didn’t help that she had her current summer fling splayed across her lap, her lips pressed to the girls mouth as they practically swallowed each other’s faces whole.

And she wouldn’t have noticed you either, had it not been for the familiar sound of your giggle ringing through her ear, barely audible over the sound of the loud music booming through the house.

At first she thought she was hearing things, ignoring the noise and carrying on with working her tongue against the girl’s against her. However the second time she heard it, it was paired with a low groan that she could only recognize as Jesse’s, and once she heard that? She had no choice but to break her lips away from the girls, instead allowing her to work her lips against her neck.

The image of your head resting against the back of the couch, looking up at Jesse as his face seemingly lays inches away from yours, your eyes twinkling in the dim light of the room, the edge of your solo cup resting against your pouty bottom lip as you listen intently at whatever Jesse is saying…

Makes Ellie want to punch a fucking hole in the wall.

Because what the fuck is Jesse doing talking to Derek’s little sister? Why the fuck does he think it’s okay to make you laugh that way when everyone knows you’re off limits? The unspoken rule being something everyone had to follow…

No matter how pretty you got as you grew up.

Ellie suddenly can’t pay any attention to the pretty girl on her lap, her grip on the girls hips tightening with anger as she watches you smile lazily at Jesse, the drink in your cup clearly making you far too soft and pliable to be talking to someone like Jesse.

There’s suddenly a fire burning in her, one that begs for you to look up and see what she’s doing, see that she has a girl on her lap that isn’t you. She wants you to see her kissing the girl, gripping her hips and positioning her however she pleases.

Ellie feels the need to make you jealous

But you never do. Ellie watches the both of you for what feels like an eternity, and you don’t once look up and lock eyes for her, not even for a second. She’s sure you’re obvious to the fact that she’s even there, far too consumed with whatever the fuck it was that Jesse was telling you, which couldn’t be anything good of course, it was Jesse of all people.

The girl on her lap is getting antsy, tugging at the bottom of Ellie’s shirt, slipping her hand underneath it to run along the skin of her hips, lips itching up her skin to get back to Ellie’s mouth, anything to have the attention that has suddenly been locked into something else.

Ellie doesn’t budge of course, her stone cold gaze stuck on you across the chair, a few feet away from her as Jesse chats you up,

She doesn’t even know why she’s staring. She can’t pin point why seeing you do something as simple as talk to someone else makes her blood boil to the point where she feels fucking light headed. All she knows is that she can’t take her eyes off of you, not when your attention is so dead set on someone else.

The girl on Ellie’s neck whines softly, her hand coming up to grip Ellie’s chin, pulling her down to finally lock lips with her. It makes Ellie groan, and to the girl it probably sounded like a groan of approval, a sign that Ellie liked that she was taking what she wanted from her. In reality, it was Ellie being fucking annoyed.

Ellie kisses her hard, trying her best to shut her up and keep her satisfied so she can break away and keep an eye on you.

You sigh softly, lifting your head a bit to turn and look down into your cup, noticing it had become empty in the span of talking to Jesse. While doing that, you realized how drunk you had gotten from the drink you made, a lazy giggle leaving your lips as you shook your head towards Jesse.

“I’m…way too drunk…I need to go to bed” you sigh out, resting your hand Jesse’s thigh as you give him a gentle pat. “Try to sober up before you go home if you do end up leaving….was nice seeing you Jesse” you smile at him, only receiving a soft groan of agony before he lazily waved you off, making you giggle softly before you got up off the couch, stumbling a bit before making your way around it to go upstairs.

As you round the corner, oblivious to Ellie’s presence, you don’t at all notice the way her eyes trail your path even as her lips work angrily against the girl in her lap.

Or the way she breaks the kiss once you’re out of view, pushing the girl off her lap as her legs begin carrying her up to follow you. “I’ll be right back…” she mumbles out to the girl, completely ignoring the way she scoffs once she realizes Ellie was following another girl.

She slips past the crowd of people as she trails close behind you, watching as you fail to even realize the way certain eyes follow your path, eyes that don’t belong to her, eyes that have filthy thoughts behind them, only fueling her anger further.

It’s like a shark stalking their prey. You’re a dumb, innocent little fish with not a care in the world, happily swimming around other little seat creatures as an apex predator slowly sticks onto your tail, following you to your demise. You’re bouncing around, giggling softly as you stumble over your own feet, so stupid from the liquor you had, you’d barely even noticed Ellie was following you.

Soon, you’re up the stairs and in front of your bedroom door. You reached up, standing on your toes to get to the little key you left on the top of your door after you locked it before going downstairs, ensuring no one would so much as think to use your bed as a hook up station.

You opened it up, sighing softly as you closed it behind you, moving over to your drawer to grab the pajamas you had folded earlier, wanting nothing more to change into them and get some much needed sleep now that the alcohol had settled in and warmed up your entire system.

Ellie hears you humming softly to yourself as she opens up your door. She isn’t even entirely sure what her motive is with this, why she felt the need to follow you all the way up to your room, and to on top of that walk in. It wasn’t like you were in any sort of danger, you weren’t out on the street late at night all alone, or even at a party at a strangers house. You were a smart girl, even going as far as to lock your door before and after leaving to go downstairs.

Not smart enough to lock it before Ellie could come in though.

You frown softly when you hear your door open, fully prepared to start screaming for your brother the second some creep tried to come in to your room.

You don’t have to though, because the second you realize that it’s Ellie standing at your door and not some fucking weirdo, you let out a small sigh of relief.

Which quickly turns into panic once you realize that it’s Ellie standing in your doorway.

“Ellie? What are you doing here?” You question the girl, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you let out a soft sigh.

You can hear it already, the way Ellie is gearing up to degrade and berate you for even thinking it was okay to come out of your room and down to the party. You mentally prepare yourself for the nasty things she’ll say, for the way she’ll go above and beyond to ensure you never even think to come down and attend another one of hers and your brothers parties ever again.

But she doesn’t speak, not immediately at least.

You watch as she crosses her arms over her chest, tattooed forearms making her look all the more intimidating. Her eyes roam your bedroom as she slowly steps in to take in more of the space after she closes your door behind her.

“It’s nice in here…you should’ve stayed put…would have worked out better for you” she hums out, her tone a bit too casual for the bite that her words manage to get out of you.

It makes you sigh softly, bringing your hand up to rub against your forehead before you speak up. “It was Derek’s idea, okay? And I was barely even down there. I didn’t even talk to anyone” you explain to the girl.

She raises her eyebrows, green eyes settling on you as she watches you in surprise.

“Didn’t talk to anyone hm? Then what the fuck were you doing with Jesse? Huh?” She barks out, the level of her voice making you flinch.

If you were confused before, this has you in shambles. Your frown deepens as your eyebrows furrow, watching the girl before you quickly speak up to defend yourself.

“With Jesse? Ellie I…we talked for maybe thirty minutes? And all he was telling me was how much he was greening out I…are you serious right now??” You shriek out, watching as the girl slowly made her way towards you.

She ignores your explanation. “Do you know how fucking desperate you look? Clinging on to mine and Derek’s friends?” She spits out, her tone growing angrier and more vile with each word she utters.

And she’s getting closer to you the more she speaks too.

“It’s fuckin’ pathetic. You’re fucking pathetic. Don’t you get tired of this? Isn’t this boring to you?” She questions, tone dripping with annoyance and anger as she keeps going, keeps pushing you.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen her like this. She’s fuming with something you don’t recognize and it makes your eyes widen, lips parting slightly as you try to find the words to say before they quickly close once she continues on with her nasty words.

That’s wide eyed look on your face lights a fire under Ellie that tells her to keep going.

She’s right in front of you now, her nose inches away from yours as she lets out an unamused chuckle, a soft smirk on her face.

“You’re such a fucking slut…you know that? Begging for attention from your brother’s friends….” She hums out softly, her pink tongue slipping out of her mouth to wet her lips slowly. You can barely stop yourself from your eyes shifting down to watch the way she does it, only earning a soft chuckle from the girl.

“Did you go to him because you saw I was busy baby? Is that it?” Her tone is still taunting you, but it’s softer, her voice barely above a whisper.

Suddenly you feel her strong hands snake their way around your waist, pulling you slowly but harshly against her body, making you gasp softly at the sudden and foreign feeling of her body pressed against yours, all of it consuming you too much to even register what it was she was accusing you of.

Her eyes are taking in your features. Your eyes, your nose, your lips, as if she were silently begging you for something you couldn’t completely give her, something more.

“If you wanted me, all you had to do was ask” she sighs out softly.

And it’s like you aren’t even there anymore, because once she says that, her lips are pressed against yours in a hot, needy kiss.

Your eyes widened at the feeling of her lips on yours. For a minute you even questioned if you were dreaming, because surly there was no world where this would be happening, one in which Ellie would be kissing you.

You gasped out softly, trying to break away from the girl to ask what exactly it was that she was doing, but she only takes this as an advantage to slip her tongue into your mouth.

The feeling of her wet tongue against yours has you melting, your eyes fluttering shut as suddenly any and all questions and concerns you previously had disappear from your head, the only thought present being how good it felt to have Ellie kissing you.

You finally get a moment to speak when you feel Ellie break the kiss so that her lips could trail down your throat, licking and sucking your skin as her hands grip your hips tightly, fingers rubbing against the exposed skin between the hem of your shirt and the top of your jeans.

“Ellie…what are you…” you manage to get out between moans, enjoying the feeling of the means girls lips against your throat far too much.

“Shut up…just shut the fuck up…” her words are muffled against your skin.

You can feel her walking you back towards your bed, allowing her to push you back onto it and crawl over your body once you’re both there. That’s when her lips attach themselves back onto yours, her hand coming down to skillfully unbutton your jeans, which gives her a chance to cup your pussy, feeling your arousal soaked panties.

She smirks against your lips, the pads of her fingers pressing against your clothed clit as she gives you a hum of approval.

“Wet already? Over one little kiss? God that’s pathetic…” she chuckles out softly as she degrades you for it, which somehow only sends more warmth shooting down your core.

“It’s alright baby…I’ll take care of you..” she hums softly against your lips before she starts kissing down your body.

Her lips swirl your nipples over the fabric of your tank top, the material growing wet with her saliva. It’s strange because the feeling is almost more erotic than if she were to do it with your top off. Maybe it’s how eager she is for it? For whatever it was she was planning on doing to you?

You had no idea. But you knew it felt good.

She does this until she’s settled between your legs, your denim jeans already long gone, her eyes zeroed in on the growing damp spot on your panties. You’re propped up on your elbows, watching closely as the girl who you were convinced hated you, stares down at your pussy like it’s her last fucking meal.

“You’re soaked baby…fuck…” she sighs out, her tattooed hand coming up to slowly run her index and middle fingers along your slit, the feeling alone making you gasp out before moaning for her.

That makes Ellie smirk, her stormy green eyes flickering up to catch your expressions as her fingers circle your clit slowly. “Yeah? You like that don’t you pretty girl…you want more?” She questions, her voice so soft and sweet, yet dripping with the urge to tease and humiliate you.

It was so confusing, because you didn’t know what it was that you wanted. You’d grown to view Ellie as someone who disliked you, deeply in fact. You always saw her as a figure of hate and annoyance towards you rather than someone who could ever in their wildest dreams be in this current situation with you.

But it felt so good, it felt so fucking right to have her settled between your legs, her fingers circling your clit slowly, making your head spin, making you feel so dizzy you felt like you’d cry if your aching pussy didn’t have some form of attention from her.

“Answer me…” she practically growls out when you take too long to respond, her dark eyes growing even darker as she awaits your confirmation.

Her tone along breaks you out of your thoughts, and before you can even think all of this through, consider the consequences that will follow a drunk hook up with Ellie?…

You’re nodding like a fucking bobble head.

“Want it so bad Ellie…please….please touch me” you practically beg, hips bucking for the attention you craved.

You didn’t even for a second stop to think what her motives were. Ellie was mean, and she could be really fucking mean when she wanted to. Who’s to say this wasn’t all a sick joke? One that she’d laugh at hysterically just to get you to say you wanted her, weaponizing the way you begged for her in any instance she could use to keep you in line.

“Good girl…relax baby…I’ll make you feel real good..” she hums out, her gentle words tugging you away from your intrusive thoughts.

Her fingers tug your panties to the side, an audible groan rumbling from her chest as she finally gets a glimpse as your soaked core.

“Fuckin’ look at that…pussy’s practically drooling for me baby…Jesus” she sighs out softly.

For a moment, you think she’s going to leave. Because in the dim light of your bedroom, you watch as she pushes her fingers into her mouth. You watch her with a confused frown as you hear a small click, paired with a gentle buzzing sound.

But once Ellie finally latches her mouth to your pussy, you can feel the foreign feeling of a tiny ball in the middle of her tongue vibrating against your clit.

You don’t even have time to fully register what the actual fuck is going on, a loud gasp leaving your mouth as your eyes go wide for a moment before they flutter shut.

Ellie had a vibrating fucking tongue ring

The feeling has you moaning loudly, your head falling back as your back arches, feeding more of your throbbing cunt into Ellie’s mouth, which only makes her moan loudly against your sensitive core.

“Fuck! Ellie oh my god! Feels…h-huh….feels s’good” you gasp out, words broken up with huffs and moans as you struggle to speak.

You want to kick yourself for not noticing it moment ago when she had her tongue playing against yours, the feeling of the smooth ball lapping against the inside of your mouth, only to begging vibrating once she settled her mouth on your pussy.

She’s just as fucked out as you are when you finally look down at her, her eyes fluttered shut in what could only be viewed as pure bliss as she licks and sucks your pussy like a woman starved. The image alone makes you reach out and tug a fistful of her hair into your hand, keeping her close as your hips began grinding against her face.

“Yeah..right…f-fuck…right there Ellie!” You moan out as her hands come up to hold onto your hips, guiding you, urging you to move harder and faster against her mouth.

Begging you to use her.

Your eyes flutter shut as the familiar feeling begins to settle into your lower half, your legs growing numb, hips getting sore as you chase the high that was growing deliciously close every second Ellie worked her skilled tongue on your pussy.

You aren’t sure you’ve ever felt anything like it. Between Ellie’s fantastic performance with her tongue, and the vibrating tongue ring, your head begins spinning as your orgasm grows closer in an embarrassingly quick amount of time.

“Ellie I…I can’t…you’re gonna…make me…” you warn her, your eyebrows furrowed as you stare down at the girl, only to see her giving you an encouraging nod as she suckles your pussy, making sure the little ball on her tongue is working your clit in the most perfect way so that the vibrations can drive you where you need to go.

That alone has you crying out, back arching almost painfully as you cum hard on the girls tongue.

Sensitivity chases soon after, a soft whine leaving your lips as the girl laps up your arousal, tongue ring still buzzing against your tired cunt, making you shy away from the warmth of her mouth.

She chuckles at that, giving your clit one final kiss before she pulls away and reaches into her mouth to click the tiny machine off.

“Did so good for me baby…took everything that I gave you” she praises you as she crawls up your body, humming softly as her hand comes up to gently hold your face before she kisses you, letting you taste your arousal that lingers on her tongue.

You moan softly into your mouth, head still swirling with a million questions you had for her, all of which she silences with the slow and sensual lapping of her tongue against yours.

She does this as she pushes you back onto your bed, letting you rest against your pillows before she tugs your blanket over both your bodies, her tongue lazily playing with yours as she practically lulls you to sleep with her kisses.

Or so you thought.

Because soon enough, she’s breaking the kiss, crawling off of your body as she tugs the blankets off of hers. You frown as you sit up a bit, watching as she adjusts her hair and her clothes in your mirror, crouching down a bit before she turns to leave your room without another word.

“I…you’re leaving?” You question softly, confusion and exhaustion laced within your words.

Ellie snorts once she turns around, the back of her hand coming up to wipe away anymore of your juices that might have still lingered on her lips.

“You thought I was gonna stay with you? Seriously?” She chuckles out softly before she slowly makes her way back to you, leaning down as she gives you a teasing pout.

“Maybe next time princess…I have someone waiting for me downstairs” she winks at you before she swiftly leaves your bedroom, leaving you there with a shocked look settled on your face.

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