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savethepinecones · 1 year ago

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ive got asthma. i run across a crosswalk and i end up wheezing for a good ten minutes. i dont have much stamina or speed and my asthma limits my ability to even improve these. i have an inhaler that im supposed to use multiple times per day and another one that i use whenever my breathing gets bad.

ive had the asthma since i was a baby, but because i wasnt very active (i was more of a music kid than a sports kid), for a long time it didnt have much of an impact on my life. for a solid chunk of my childhood i more or less forgot i had it at all. sure i would get winded easily but thats normal when youre out of shape right? i never excercised so it must just be that.

in the past several years, though, its gotten worse. wildfires affected air quality in my area and i started to occasionally have trouble breathing just from being outside for too long. i finally went to a doctor and got an inhaler (i hadnt bothered to get one in years since i used it so rarely and even if i didnt my breathing would sort itself out. eventually). currently ive got one that im supposed to use multiple times a day and another that i carry with me to use if i get winded while im out and about. even with these, i still cant run much without it affecting my breathing. i dont especially enjoy running so im not too upset by the lack of it in my life but its frustrating that i cant do it on the occasion that i want or need to do so.

ive had a similar journey with my mental health. i ignored it as a kid, convinced myself everything was fine and normal, until i eventually had to admit to myself that that wasnt the case. what most people considered a brisk walk or light jog was more like running a marathon for me. i only worked parttime for years until i was able to get on antidepressants because i knew fulltime would be too much for me without them. when i did start taking meds, it was still difficult but technically possible.

i managed to keep my pace up for two years before i hit a limit i couldnt force myself to push through. whether id finished the marathon or not, i couldnt keep running. so i took a break. i sat down on a bench, drank some water, and waited for my breathing to slow as i watched others run past, going at a similar speed to what id been keeping, but barely looking winded. i knew i wouldnt be able to return to my previous pace. even once my breathing evened out, i was still exhausted. and i couldnt just will that exhaustion away. i tried anyway. once my lungs had stopped hurting, i stood up and started running again. my legs still ached and my breathing quickly worsened but i had to keep moving so i ignored as much as i could and endured the rest. i stopped several times to take a break but i didnt allow myself to sit again. this went on for maybe two weeks before my legs gave out and i had to find another bench.

since then ive been catching my breath. letting my burning limbs rest. i decided that once i was well and truly ready to start running again, i would go slow enough that i could keep a steady pace without wearing myself out. i probably wont work fulltime ever again.

ive more or less caught my breath but my legs are killing me so even though i want to keep moving, im going to go slow. im walking slowly, gradually picking up the pace while being careful not to push myself too hard. its difficult. im not used to acknowledging my limits. i spent two decades thinking that as long as i didnt collapse i was fine. i hadnt allowed myself to slow whenever my breathing became labored. my lungs would ache but i would continue on my sprint regardless. sometimes i still push myself too hard. other times i think im not running fast enough. i catch myself thinking that even if i cant run like everyone else is, i should do as much as i can. i should determine what my limit is and stay just a hair below that speed. its not comfortable, but this has never been comfortable, so what does that matter?

no, i tell myself. your comfort matters. go at whatever speed works for you. i repeat this to myself as i continue to walk. sometimes i jog a little. im surprised to find it enjoyable. ive always been too exhausted to enjoy the run. still, everyone else maintains the same speed theyve had from the start. they look at me walking and criticize me for not running seriously. some say ive had enough time to catch my breath, so i should get back to sprinting now. i tell them i dont think i should. they say im not trying hard enough.

sometimes i look at the people running past and feel guilty for not keeping pace. like ive let myself down somehow. i remind myself that this isnt a race, its more of a jogging path. im allowed to walk if i need to. people run past, scoffing at me for giving up. i havent given up, i want to tell them. im still walking. still making progress.

someone grabs my arm, pulling me forward. forcing me to match their speed. i know theyre trying to help me, but im tripping over my feet in my struggle to keep up. theyre struggling too, i can tell, but they wont allow themselves to stop or slow. you need to do better, they tell me. tiredness is no excuse. i dont know how to explain to them that i passed tired long ago. i pull my arm away. i cant keep up with you. and thats okay. no its not, they tell me. you must run like the rest of us. walking isnt even close to good enough. they run ahead. i jog for a few minutes, enjoying the run, then stop at a bench for a water break. i begin walking again. i remind myself that thats enough.

#idk what this is its late and ive had a shit day #also its 3 am which certainly doesnt help #ive been thinking about the difference between neurotypical standards of functionality and my own #like if neurotypical 100% is working fulltime eating properly socializing maintaining relationships staying on top of chores etc #then reminding myself to eat three times a day and attempting to fix my sleep schedule is a pretty low percentage #even at my best ill never approach that 100%#my ideal would be something like 75% on that scale #and even that is probably out of my reach realistically #at least for the foreseeable future #idk i just feel like people see that im not working #and assume im not trying at all #when the truth is im genuinely doing my best #anyway feel free to reblog #im not sure if this even makes sense but im just tired enough to think that ive just written something brilliant lol #this was more or less just stream of consciousness so sorry if its inconsistent #im too tired to try to edit it so im just sending this massive block of text into the universe as is

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cinnamorollcrybaby · 5 months ago

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Mama, I’m in love with a criminal

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, no curse au, dead dove, violence described including murder, dark romance, use of y/n, descriptions of mental illness.

Synopsis: Sukuna’s talking to his therapist in jail about you. He’s incarcerated because of you, and his obsession is concerning.

An: Yeah idk i thought of this while I was driving to work one morning.

Session one. | Session two. | Session three. | Session four. | Termination session.

His large frame laid lazily over the couch, clad in an orange jumpsuit. He had his feet propped up on one side, and his head was propped up on the other side in a far too casual manner. His naturally pink hair pushed up near the front, messily so.

He was still cuffed and shackled, but the therapist was still afraid of him. To the therapist’s credit, he had read the warrant that went into viscous detail of Sukuna’s crimes.

Normally, the therapist wouldn’t read the inmates warrants due to situations like these. He liked going into sessions with an open mind, but he had gotten warnings about Sukuna… how the man can fly into a blind rage like a switch on the wall.

He was brutal, unforgivable, inhumane.

Simple counseling wasn’t going to “fix” a broken human like Sukuna. The therapist knew this, but the state mandated that Sukuna undergo weekly counseling sessions per his sentence.

Sukuna could taste the therapist’s fear, and he let out an earnest laugh. “You don’t even want to try to fix me, do you?” He asked tauntingly with a lopsided grin. “I don’t blame you. Don’t feel bad~”

The therapist swallowed the lump in his throat, and he adjusted in his seat. “I can’t fix anyone… Counseling isn’t about fixing.. It’s about moving forward and learning how to live.”

“Bullshit.” Sukuna spits with shrug. “Counseling is about focusing on the past and letting shit hang you up for far too long. I guarantee you that you’re going to ask me about how I got here, is that right?”

The therapist is shaking like a leaf at this point. “Our past can help us navigate to a better future.” He murmured out weakly.

Sukuna roars in laughter, causing the therapist to nearly jump out of his seat. The pink-haired felon doubles over as he laughs hysterically. “You’re a funny guy. Fine. You really want to know how I got here? I’ll tell you.”

After a deep breath and wiping away a fake tear, Sukuna goes on, “You know, teachers always believe that pairing the troubled kids up with the good kids will inspire them to act right. That shit never works.”

“I think that’s when my ‘type’ developed. My bitch of a second-grade teacher assigned me to sit next to this frail meek girl after I got in trouble one too many times for terrorizing the other kids. She was a real stick in the mud.” Sukuna laughs fondly, a rare genuine smile on his face.

“Y/n?” The therapist asks, remembering your name from the warrants.

Sukuna’s red eyes snap over to the therapist with an almost predatory gaze. His hands visibly curl into fists. “Say her name again, and I’ll splatter your blood all over this room. The officers won’t be able to pry me from you, deeming you to be a lost cause.”

The therapist freezes as the breath hitches in his throat. His eyes dart toward his panic button, knowing he should probably press it now, but he’s frozen in fear.

“We’ll call her mouse.” Sukuna goes on as if he didn’t just threaten the poor guy’s life in brutal detail.

“Mouse was a real challenge. I for some reason made it my mission to get her to talk to me, but she always stayed silent — only answering me with simple head gestures.” He laughs again, lying his head back further as he’s replaying the memories in his mind. He can remember you vividly and how you looked back then. He yearns for that feeling again. The feeling of seeing you for the first time.

“I can’t exactly tell you when the challenge started to border obsession, but she slowly slithered her way into my brain. Even when I wasn’t in school, I thought about her. I wondered what she sounded like, wondered why she wouldn’t talk to me, wondered why she looked at me like that.”

The therapist furrows his eyebrows. Even though he doesn’t feel safe in this session, and he doesn’t trust Sukuna at all, he has a hunger for knowledge, and he loves solving things that have to do with the human psyche.

“Looked at you like what?” The therapist dared to ask.

Sukuna stayed silent for a moment, and he tapped his finger against the back of his hand. His face hardened as he found the words he was looking for. “She looked at me like she had no preconceived notion of me. Her eyes… were so big and round. Even though she didn’t talk to me, it was like she accepting of my presence.”

The shackles jingled as Sukuna rubbed his face in a stressed gesture. Remembering you was like a double edged sword. He loved thinking about you, but he hated being reminded that he was without you.

The therapist eased in his chair. There was actual emotions underneath all those tattoos, thick skin, and muscle. The media had portrayed Sukuna as a complete narcissistic sociopath, but this was proof that diagnosis was false.

“I bothered the shit out of her for years, continually getting myself paired up with her.” Sukuna grinned, shifting the conversation back in a direction that he was more comfortable with, “I remember those asshole kids always called me her shadow because I followed her everywhere. Jokes on them.”

The therapist shivered as be remembered a chilling detail from the warrants. Each time a victim was found, a message was written in the victim’s blood.

-ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ

His victim’s - their deaths were like an homage to you.

“Were the kids ever… assholes to mouse?”

Sukuna’s jaw visibly tightened. He loathed this therapist’s questions… thinking he knew everything just because you and Sukuna were misunderstood kids.

“They called her weird for not talking.” Sukuna recalled as he bit his inner cheek. His eyes glared to the wall in front of him. “Now look at who can’t talk.”

Sukuna’s first victim. He didn’t start out with murder. He started out with stapling your bullies mouth shut for taunting you. Everything was for you. Everything.

He held a kid down to the teacher’s in third grade, grabbing a stapler, and he pressed it down one by one into the kids lips, binding them together. The kid couldn’t scream or cry for help, or else he’d risk ripping the flesh on his lips.

The teachers found the kid and immediately knew the only kid sadistic enough to go through with such an act was none other than Sukuna.

“Did mouse witness you do that?” The therapist asked, genuinely intrigued by Sukuna’s narrative. For being a ruthless criminal, he was a wonderful historian.

“No. Why would I scare her like that?” Sukuna’s voice was tense as he eyed the therapist carefully, as if he was waiting for him to say the wrong thing.

The therapist clicks his tongue in surprise, and he looks like a deer in headlights. “Scare? No.. no, I thought you’d maybe just show off what you did for her.”

“I’m not the type to show off.” Sukuna answers flatly, and the therapist wonders if that’s the first time Sukuna’s lied during this session. He knows that Sukuna likes to show off. The warrants prove it.

“Anyways, I wore her down over the years. She didn’t speak to me until we were in sixth grade.” An eerie smile curls on Sukuna’s lip. “I can still remember her first word to me and how she said it…”

The therapist leaned in, curiosity getting best of him.

Sukuna smirks, knowing he has the therapist interested now. “Her first word to me was a plea. A word to show her undeniable want. Her first word to me was please.”

Bang! Bang Bang!

The therapist literally flinches out of his chair from the heavy knocks at the door.

“Ryomen! Your time is up!” The officer yelled on the other side of the door.

“Pity. I was beginning to have fun.” Sukuna remarked as he stood up from the couch. The shackles jingled as he walked toward the door, and the door buzzed, letting him out. “See you next week, doc.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #fanfic #drabble #jjk sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jujutsu sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jjk ryomen #ryomen x reader #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #dark romance

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underratedbreadcrust · 4 months ago

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Chance Equals Fortune — Prologue

Squid Game | The Salesman x F!Reader

Summary: parasites. that is the only thing he thinks of when he meets the players he is meant to recruit. but what happens when he meets you and you are nothing of what he expects.

an au where the salesman lives and becomes a player.

Warnings: swearing and classist thinking. in the future there will probably be canon-typical violence and i'm still debating on smut.

a/n: happy new years! i'm sorry i couldn't upload this earlier i had to deal with some long distant relatives. however, due to popular demand here is the gong yoo fic as promised. this was originally supposed to be under 1k words...

Words: 2.1k

next part>>

Click. Click. Click

Those are the sounds of pristine perfectly polished black shoes on concrete. The soles of the shoes worn by a handsome-looking businessman echoed loudly, causing the sounds to reverberate into the jet-black sky. As he walked beneath the faint luminescence of street lights, case in hand and his head held high, his eyes searched for the next prey to fall victim to his silver tongue. The same mouth that twisted dark truths into sweet promises others couldn't dare reject. Never once has his articulate way of speaking failed to deliver the precise words necessary to provide his superiors with a new batch of fresh meat to satisfy their sadistic tendencies. To him, it was all the same. One less piece of vermin in the world, and more importantly, one less leech to drain the well-oiled machine that is society.

Today was no different as he strolled along the sidewalk of a small park near the outskirts of Seoul. While he walked, he felt indifferent towards the small details, like the light breeze swaying the tree branches above or the faint smell of dog shit wafting through the air. Having trained himself to ignore anything and everything that could be a possible distraction from his mission. What was his mission again? Ah yes, currently that would be you.

His steps immediately halted as he spotted your figure in the distance, a dark shadow looming over a bed of flowers and a trail of smoke emitting from the cigarette between your fingers. There you are. He squared his shoulders as he fixed his expression into one of casual ease. Now, all he had left to do was to convince you all of the problems that have stemmed from your pathetic life could be solved in the blink of an eye. That your worries could dissolve as quickly as skin in acid.

He began to move again, taking long strides to where you were standing. In the time he took to reach you, he jotted some quick mental notes.

One. Your relaxed stance oozed confidence and uninterest despite being a young lady positioned in one of the most crime-infested spots of the city in the dead of night. Meaning you either had a weapon on you or had sufficient defense skills, possibly both. He must tread carefully.

Two. You were positioned next to a tall fountain, atop stood a small marble figure of a gumiho. The spot infamously known for the shady transactions dealing with drugs and other nefarious crimes. Perhaps you were waiting for someone? He'd have to keep an eye out for any newcomers that could interrupt his process.

Three. Your mouth was...moving?

His steps faltered. There was no other person around within a 3-mile radius whom you could be conversing with, nor did you have a phone in hand. How odd. In his time as a recruiter, he has encountered all kinds of people. Drug addicts, the mentally ill, and one memorable case a delirious man on the brink of death, hallucinating from hunger. You, however, seemed perfectly sane. Keyword…seemed. He shook his head, quickly putting a halt to his thoughts. He had no time to ponder over whatever weird traits you may have, he came here to do one job. He resumed his trek towards you and was soon standing mere feet from you.

Show time.

“Excuse me miss, may I have a minute of your time?”

You remain standing still, making no indication that you had noticed him. Your eyes were distant while you continued to murmur but no sound came out. He wasn’t sure if you were ignoring him or if you really were that unaware of your surroundings. Now that won’t do.

“Miss?” He tried again tentatively, his head tilting curiously as he stepped in your line of sight. “Are you alright?”

Finally, your eyes shifted into focus, taking a moment to adjust. For a brief moment, it appeared as if you were lost. However, that moment soon passed and your eyes narrowed, annoyance filling your features.

“Why did you interrupt me?”

The bite in your tone was enough to make him raise an eyebrow. Perhaps you really weren’t in the right state of mind after all. “Interrupt?”

You scoffed, ignoring the question you brought the cigarette back to your lips. Taking in a long drag before you released the smoke right in his face. His mouth turned downward in displeasure.

“Do you need something?” You snapped, your jaw clenching as you slid your free hand in your pocket. He caught the way your finger twitched as you did so. Weapon it is then.

His face instantly changed back to that previous pleasant expression, his lips curving into a kind smile though with a lack of warmth in his eyes. Instead replaced by an empty, clinical look.

”I don’t mean to be a bother ma’am, but I’m here to offer you a proposal you’re sure to like,” he states in a neutral tone, having uttered a variation of those words dozens of times. “A way to better improve your current economic situation.”

Your body tenses as your eyes dart over his figure eyeing the suitcase, no doubt analyzing him as a threat. “Look I already said I’d pay him back!” He watches as you chuck the cigarette to the ground and stomp on it. “If he keeps rushing me like this then don’t expect to get a single won out of me! I don’t give a shit who he is!” Your volume rises as you take a step back, ready to sprint if needed.

He raises his arm in surrender. “That’s not what I’m here for. As I’ve stated, I only want to help.” His mind is conjuring up the best way to ease the tension.

He hesitantly takes a step forward.

Your eyes immediately look back down. “What’s in the case?”

Another step.

“I work for a group of people whose only interest is to help those who are struggling. Our objective being to ease the burden of the majority.” He swiftly places the case at the base of the fountain, unlocking the latch but leaving it closed. “See for yourself.”

You were the one to take the final step, closing the gap between the two of you. You gave him one more skeptical look before you focused all of your attention on what was in front of you. Slowly, both hands reached out and flipped the top wide open. Your eyes widened as you took in the contents of what was inside, or more specifically, the big wads of cash.

You remained silent, frozen as a statue as you simply stared. In an instant, you whipped your head in his direction. You took the time to study him, your mouth slightly agape and a certain look in your eye he couldn't quite place. A couple of seconds passed, you clamped your mouth shut and swallowed thickly, licking your lips before you finally managed to whisper, "What do you want?"

His mouth quirked upward in a smirk. Got you. "I'd like to play a game."

You belted out a high-pitched, contorted laugh. A childlike glee completely overcoming you. "Ab-so-fucking-lutely," you grinned from ear to ear, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

It dawned on him what that look in your gaze was...

Unstable.

A jolt of thrill shoots down his spine. "I'm sure you're familiar with the game ddakji," he reaches until he grabs the two colorful squares, carefully placing the red one on the ground, "for every time your square manages to flip mine, I will pay you 100,000 won."

You nod enthusiastically, your hand shooting out as he draws his hand in at the same time. "However, if you lose...you must pay me back the same amount."

You snatched the piece from him. “Deal.” You don't waste a single moment in hurling it, the force of the impact causing the sound to ricochet like a gunshot. The square goes flying, becoming a red blur. It stays in the air for a couple of seconds, but that time is enough for the experienced recruiter to know that you've already won. By the time it hits the ground, he doesn't even have to look to know it's flipped.

You look up expectantly at him.

He glances at her, jaw clenching. Well, this isn't how it usually goes. Before he can move to pay you, your voice cuts through the silence. "From the look on your face, you didn't want me to win, correct?" The lack of response on his part encourages you to continue. "How about, instead of doing whatever the hell you were thinking, I propose a new rule," you lean forward, your eyes sparkling with mirth, "we both keep throwing until one of us loses. If I win...you give me everything that's in that case."

"And what if I win?"

Your mouth twists into a devilish smirk. "Don't worry, you won't."

His eyes look you up and down, scanning you. His hands twitch in anticipation at the challenge, adrenaline manifesting itself as electricity in his veins. His bruised ego from losing the first round combined with his competitive nature was enough to make him agree. This was not part of the plan. He could just give you the money, the card, and go about his day like he has so many times before. He has no reason to play along other than he just wants to beat you.

"Alright," his previously fabricated smile now becoming genuine, "my turn."

With renewed vigor, he launches his square and as expected, it flips. He lets out an arrogant chuckle as he fixes his suit and stands up straight, his lips stretching into a satisfied smile.

This cycle continued for multiple rounds, the money long forgotten. The need to succeed fueled the violent fire between the two of you. After a while, he lost all track of time, fixating all of his attention solely on the game.

By now, his hair was disheveled and sweat dripped down his forehead. He panted as he recovered, his arm muscles aching from the consistent use. It was taking more energy than he was willing to admit in order to keep going but like hell if he'd let exhaustion be the cause of failing.

On his turn, he prepared himself to once again launch the disc. He readied himself, drawing his arm back and—

His eyes suddenly flickered to your lips, where your tongue darted out lick them. He watches intensely at your now damp, chapped lips, mouth slightly parted as you breathe heavily from fatigue.

In his moment of distraction, the square slips from his hand. He scrambles quickly to catch it but it's too late...

He's lost.

There is a long pause of silence, before your high-pitched cackle cuts through the air. His eyes widen in shock, the realization slowly setting in.

How...

He breathes out deeply through his nose, trying his best to compose himself. What the hell was that? How on earth could he have lost? He Never. Loses. He doesn't have any longer to dwell on the fact as you practically skip in joy to the case, already counting the amount. All of this because you managed to distract him.

Your voice soon interrupts his thoughts. "Maybe the next time you want to win, you might try not to let your eyes stray so far..." you say as you wink.

How did you even notice? Wait...was that on purpose? He clenches his fists until they turn white, the thought making his blood boil. He has half the mind to kill you and call it an accident just to quell his anger.

He closes his eyes in frustration. No, I can't ruin the games.

He takes in a couple of deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down. Once he knows that his voice won't betray any conflict he feels, he speaks again, "you know, there are other games such as the one we just played. And for much larger prizes as well."

He's back in his element, his persuasive tone of voice exuding reliability. He hands you the card, explaining how it works, how to enlist, and so on.

By the time he finishes his speech, you look mostly convinced. After inspecting the card more closely, your stare finds his, "I appreciate what you have done and thank you for the opportunity. I will consider your offer. If I do accept know it will only be due to a singular fact," your head leans closer, voice lowering to a whisper and your breath fanning over his, "I never lose"

On that note, you step back and walk away, never once turning to glance back at him. You soon disappear into the dark Seoul night, shadows blending with that of buildings and trees.

He lets out a small huff in amusement. If that is true, then he's excited to see how you'll fare in the games.

please don't be a silent reader i love reading comments and hearing your thoughts.

#squid game #squid game 2 #the salesman x reader #the salesman #gong yoo #gong yoo x reader #squid game x reader #salesman x reader

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deesseshesca · 5 months ago

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PAC : Letter from your pregnant self. (18+)

Mama said it was ok ... mama said it was quite alright .

BUNDLE READINGS.

FUTURE LOVE + SEX DOUALA = 40$ (2for1)

✨ Down to My Core ✨

This Christmas, gift yourself clarity—a soulful journey to uncover your truth and step into the new year ready to rise. 🌙

CHARACTER UPDAPTE + LORE DUMP = 40$ (2for1)

🔥 Fire to the Moon 🔥

This Christmas, gift yourself the truth—a journey through soul ties, sexual desires, and cosmic connections. Uncover a new love story written in your stars and step into the new year with clarity and faith in love 🌙✨

PILE 1

It was supposed to be you pregnant but you came through in the hospital the evening after giving birth. You are actually talking to your baby girl.

‘’ Damn I thought it was early menopause. You should have seen my face when the doctor came back in the room after putting way too much finger in my hole. Honestly I should have guessed it when the nurse and the medical tech looked at each other with smirk while my husband and I were going crazy over my future illness. I hope you don’t hate me as I am holding you in my arms. I can’t help but admire you. I gave up on the idea of having my dream baby girl a long time ago. I know it is not fair I should have fought for you but I could not let the emptiness get to me. You know I have to be a mother to your big brothers. LOL! I remember their disgusted and concerned faces when I told them I was pregnant again. ‘’ Mama you are still doing the nasty’’ that’s what (the name of your second boy) said. Honestly I am not sure what I was expecting from anyone. The first thought that came to my mind is the fact that I am only in my mid 30. What the heck, for sure I love riding it. Actually been loving riding it. Since forever. He is the first man I ever trusted … the only I ever gave my heart. It was my first time after a very awful experience but I probably will never tell you about it but I will forever protect you against all thoses abusers out here. Ain’t no way they are touching my daughter but your dad … he’s different. I am so happy I chose the right man to have my babies with. The way he looks at me with so much longing in eyes, the soft touch, waking me up everyday by getting your siblings ready and making my coffee so I can have some time for myself. The way he literally dedicated a whole wall in our house for pictures of our wedding like he doesn't already have 3 pictures of me and the kids on his desk at work, like he doesn't have a picture of us in his wallet and in his car. Sometimes I pinch myself when I cook and I look at my husband playing with my kids, being affectionate and their safe place because it was never like that. I never grew up like that. I used to wish on my lucky stars that I make it out of my abusive household and now I am thriving in an overabundant and loving household. Is not always easy because your dad has a demanding job but he will NEVER but none of y’all second. It doesn't matter if he is busy in a meeting or overseas, he always calls, answers texts, sends gifts, even writes letters. He always fixes his schedule to be at your siblings' competition. Honestly I am scared of the length he is ready to go for you. Actually all of them are ready to go to crazy length for you. Nah I am serious he organized the baby shower in a luxurious resort. The gender reveal happened on a helicopter ride before taking me to a 5 star hotel and showering me with gifts. Your siblings are always telling me to sit down, that they can do it, that I need to keep my energy and that they need to protect me . Damm… last time I checked I am the parent but I didn't talk back. Because miss girl you were not an easy pregnancy. High blood pressure, back pain, extreme moodiness and early labor. Like girls we get it … you were in a hurry to come to your palace but you did not have to do my body like that. Or maybe you punish me because I decided that I was infertile after a couple years with no success. I let you go. Stop fighting for you. You and your little button noise, smooth forehead, full head of hair and pouty lips are more than worth it. This pregnancy did not feel real at first. I did not want to believe it. I was sure that it was a mistake or my blessing was going to be taken from me. Yeah… you trigger my old survival instinct. Thank God for you dad, holding my hand, telling me that everything is going to be ok and allowing me to take my time accepting my truth. Validating how I feel because by the second semester I was more than overjoyed and confident. You are mine, my blessings and worth every ounce of goodness coming ... my precious miraculous babygirl.

XOXO

Your mama’’

So many nasty messages came through but y'all … I know you would never talk like that to your baby.

The baby was created a random day after a cuddle fuck (for many anal cuddle fuck). After putting the kids to sleep, doing your night routine with your husband and cleaning the room (you don’t joke about that re-start routine because otherwise the mornings are way too chaotic in the morning) you bring yourself to the bed and decide to seduce your man with kisses and caress. Honestly it does not take a lot for your husband to be seduced by you. He and I love the fact that you still try to make marriage feel sexy with the booty shorts, sometimes having your makeup done, other times you go all out and have lunch at his work to tease him. You are litteraly his sexual fantasy like even when y’all are going to be more mature he's not going to look at younger girls (some people in this pile are scared that their husband will entertain younger girls. Never babe they are HOOK on you. Not just love or respect for the mother of their child. You have the pusy power over that mind. All he sees is you!). After a sweaty, loving but still rough session little miss finally came to you.

You guys are going to have an amazing sex life with your husband don’t worry your kids are never going to know (y’all get down. Y’all don’t mind calling the nanny to have ‘’sex weekend’’). In the adult world the way y’all look at each other, joke with each … you guys chemistry (y’all just look the fuck good together) people know you fucking fucking.

Also if you read : PAC : Your dream reality, there's also glimpse of the same future channeled.

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PILE 2

‘’ Bitch WTF ! You know what life got me fucked up in all type of way. Almost like God wanting to make a joke out of me. As I am speaking, I am sitting in this comfy couch in my living living in my house, fat as fuck, mean mugging my husband. You heard me right. HUSBAND ! I don’t even know when that shit happens. Like when did I fell in love. I mean I was never against love but think about it. Living in your dream house, enjoying yourself and you are waking up turning to your side and you see a big fat head. Let me tell you, it is not between your thighs. Nah is cuddling and calling you ‘’honey’’. EW GET THE FUCK OFF ME. It was supposed to be only a FWB but you know how men move when they have a taste of this punani. They be hearing colors, seeing starts and talking in tongues , thinking I can heal their attachment issues. Ok let me give credit where it is due … he was actually different. He made me do things I don’t usually do like talking about my feelings, eating 3 times a day and being affectionate. I swear I never gave as many hug as I did with him. LOL ! From all the billion penises on this planet I had to fall in love with the clingy one. He loves hugging me, kissing me … just being stuck on me. Before I knew it I had a ring on my finger. I even kissed him in front of my damm family. Like I am a bad bitch, a cold ass bitch, a cool hoe not basic lucy that’s all love and light. Guess he was so good to me that I said ‘’Yes I do’’. That I could forgive. I could understand the house, the ring, the love and partnership but the baby … the baby. THE DAMM FUCKING BABY. You know what is going to do to my dream body and my mom is talking about a second one. Babe hell nah to the nah nah. This hourglass figure is not going to waste. Somewhere I guess it is my fault … Ok … So what shoot me … I LOVE SEX. I LOVE WHEN HE HITS RAW. Is that so wrong? I hate birth control… bitch my opp frl. ALways trying to give me acne or making me fat. What about him and his breeding kink ? Don’t look at me like that. I always liked it rough and nasty but … the consequence. I did not think … Bitch I am only a girl. I am a teeneager in her late twenties. Like somebody called Dr.Phil … I am losing it ! I guess I would have been more careful but there’s something about having my hair pulled, my body bound, my pussy being overstimulated and having his big dick pounding into me while we are listening to chase the Atlantic that’s going to do it every time. Let me tell you something … this man is obsessed with my body. I was scared … you know, we always had body dysmorphia but I think my husband healed me. He can’t take his hand off me. LIKE CAN’T ! I can’t not be in a room with only him (funny since y’all living together …) always slapping my fat ass. Sneaky his hand in my full breast. That one time I was in bikini waddle around I genuinely think he was going to fuck me in the pool while the neighbor were in their backyard. We all know how vocal I am and how rough he is. Confession I still like it fucking rough ... Actually I like it rougher. I am officially insane. There must be something wrong with me. One minute I am like ‘’aww my baby is going to be an awesome dad’’ and the very next fucking though be like ‘’ I want him choke me and force himself into me’’ and it be a front of people. Fucking embarrassing. This pregnancy hormone made me waddle around like a horny sick teenager. Anyway let me go … I was teasing him earlier. You know how bratty I can get. But now I want it ! Bye babe … I need to hop on my ride.

XOXO

Your homegirl''

I swear pile 2, y’all so fucking cute. Y’all may be the youngest of your family or friend group. Like nobody even though you would get married or even have kids. Like you don’t hate kids but you love scaring them and every time one cries you laugh. Second, y'all love to yell at men. Every time you see a man, attitude is 100%. You are so spoiled and you don’t want to share. So the thought of having to share even a spoon with even your fav muncher is weird. You guys are the personification of the sound: ‘’ WHY WOULD A MEN BE HERE ? WHY WOULD A MEN BE HERE ?’’. You guys are also the personification of women dominating male fields. You be hating on men but still fuck them because that’s all they worth (LOL GO QUEEN !). You look the fuck good and don’t play abut your beauty regiment and sleep.

You love your husband and you are in love with your baby but affection is not something that comes easy to you. That doesn't mean you are mean, you just show love in different ways. You more an act of service (I can’t with y’all… I just heard ‘’ Good head should be enough to show I care … Don’t be greedy. Beggar cannot be choosy’’ No because PERIDOT) like cleaning, cooking, organizing, showing support, being dependable or gift giving. You always find him the best gift.

All this to say you play though but there is a big teddy bear inside of you that is sooo happy by the way your life took a twist but fucking confuse at the same time. Sometimes you wake confused like the girl in 17 turning 30 movie. Not that you hate your life actually you love it but WTF.

I am hearing ‘’ Rue… when was this ?’’.

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PILE 3

‘’ LOL…Let’s thank God for the bathroom at the restaurant. Honestly I don't even know how we sneak in together and nobody said anything. I lowkey think the server had our back because when I finally came back after sending my husband out before me to act as normal as possible. The server brought the bill with a smirk and my baby tipped him big. Honestly I don’t regret it. He could not resist the sight of me since my makeup was perfectly done, hair blown out in perfect curls, smelling Bararat Rouge, short black dress tight on my snatch body (thank God for the workout routine I follow religiously). Honestly I am surprised he waited that long … I kind of did need to push him the fuck off me, multiple time while we were getting ready. Now I understand Bella and Edward because honeymoon energy makes you want to do it EVERY TIME AND ANYTIME. Like how am I supposed to ignore my man when he looks all good in his suits after he paid for the whole trip and booked this exclusive restaurant in Paris just a front of the Eiffel tower and he gave me red bottoms earlier this evening. Fuck even when we are together he keeps tricking on me. Now here we are, gel on my stomach, belly round and big and my hand in his. Swear I never saw such a big and tall guy, literally a giant being so excited like a literal kid on Christmas morning over the new addition in the family. I told him to wait before he got the name of the baby tatted because you never know what could happen (God forbid …). I never saw him in such distress when I said this. His eyes floated with tears, he hugged me tighter, kissed my neck and whispered: ‘’ You don’t think we deserve this happiness ? or maybe you regret having this with me’’. I hug him and cry. That is my self doubt … God does my self doubt and his abandonment issue always makes us cry in each other's arms in the most gut wrenching way. Fuck self doubt … I am prepared , my doctor got our back, my baby is healthy and I am going have my fucking happy ending. I want it all, I deserve it all and I am having it all.

XOXO

Your Fav Sugar Mama''

You guys have moneyyyy. Like yes your man has money but babe you are very much giving boss babe. You probably have or are working towards having a very demanding degree. Let me tell you something … whatever field you try to get into (I think it's very competitive) you are/will be dominating.

Also this letter was completely off intuition … I did not pull any cards but don’t worry let’s get to the extra messages.

Funny enough y’all may be fucking like beast in mating season before pregnancy but after that everything is going to die down. I think both of y'all have a soft exhibition kink because y’all really don’t care who hears you or sees you. While you are pregnant he is still very loving and he still think you are stunning but y’all prefer missionary, love making, cuddle fuck, being in the bed, doing it on the couch. I see a lot of loving gaze coming from them. Like they look at you like you are the walking definition of love. So much tenderness and longing just by the way they look at you. Also they change the tone of their voice when speaking to you. Is never loud even when they are mad. When they know they are about to get mad, they sit down, take a breath and speak. Is like a routine . NEVER NEVER want to scare you or hurt you. He really is a gentle giant. When it comes to YOU. Only for you. Also if I stick to my vision, you are definitely the one that decorated the apartment. I am getting a condo, penthouse or luxurious apartment in a busy city for your house.

They are going to be even more possessive when you are pregnant. Babe that pregnancy glow is going to do wonders for your skin. You look the fuck good. Hair is long and healthy plus is shiny. Breast sitting pretty and is full. Hips wider and the way you walk is having everyone hooked. Some of y’all have a heel addiction and you are not going to give up heels just because of a baby and that is going to make you look extra sexy. Every time you are going to try to film yourself for fun or to post, they are going to make their presence known. Also every time y’all outside, they always have a hand on your stomach. Damn y’all already pregnant with his seed… what more does he want from you. Like sir … your territory is already marked. You're going to love every moment of it. Cheesy like a kid because your man is even more obsessed with you.

You are going to leave work much earlier. Not because of any health issue. From what I am understanding, y’all never took a break. Always school, work, internship, engagement, big girl job, moving in and marriage. Like is time for you to take moment and just live for the fuck of it.

At some point y’all may not have sex. Because your man does not want to hurt you. You may actually take it well because you feel like it is going to build a big sexual anticipation for next time. So y’all are having your own version of No Nut November.

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PILE 4

‘’ Damm I never felt so powerful. Maybe people are gatekeeping pregnancy because they don’t want you to feel this good. Nah I am kidding. First trimester dragged me around and snatched my wig. I spend more time hugging the toilet bowl than my Baby. The headache and extremely sensitive tits, let’s not forget the hair thinning. Anyways the power I have over my Baby is insane. I am not talking about ‘’yeah is for the baby’’. Nah is like the man is hypnotized by my every move. I could tell him to jump off the roof and I am convinced with enough flirting tactics he will do it. He does it all for me before I even ask sometime before I even think about it, he already did it. He is serious about our baby's future, opening a savings account. For the baby shower, when everyone left he told me he brought our baby investment stocking. He already put money away for his car and university loan. He already looked at a private elementary school and we might hire a cook. I have never been much of a chef but he wants our kid to have it all. The tutor, the chef, the trust fund … oh my baby boy is about to be born on a diamond plate. The way I am treated is almost like I am carrying the next world prophet. I can't wear leggings, my heels need to be a certain inch, camera are on, all time because my Baby needs to be checking that I am always safe. Don’t want me to fall down the stairs or faint in the shower which actually happened . That’s why I can’t get mad at him when his crazy protective side comes out because the end of our journey almost came too quickly. I have a chauffeur and 24/7 maid. Fuck I am birthing the next royalty. What’s wilder is I feel fucking sexy pregnant ? I can spend hours looking at myself in intricate lingerie. Everything is right and the weight gain looks the fucking good on me. I look womanly. Idk … all my life I've been quite petite. Always looking younger than my age. I always wanted to put on some weight but people around always told me to embrace since so many try to be skinny but sitting down in my black lace robe while getting ready in the morning reinforced my need for weight. My tits are firmer and fuller, hips are wider and my butt has a gorgeous hump to it. I love the feeling of having my thigh touching. What’s even more insane is my crazy dom husband love when I am taking charge in the bedroom. He loves it when I wake him with a handjob while speaking of my rule in my soft voice. I always knew my voice had power over him, the man almost bust a nut in his sweat the first time I called him. Now he worships me, he can spend hours eating on my clit, sucking on my thighs and playing on my tits. The other day he was heavily leaking precum while giving clit orgasm after orgasm while I was getting ready for my day. Begging me to put the tip in and sometimes I say ‘’no’’ just to see his reaction and the man whimpered and begged. LOL ! What’s less funny is that my mom decided to become more of hater than she already is. I took my distance from her, my husband hates when I talk to her because I always end up crying but she found out that I had a baby shower. She burst screaming in my house. Everything got handle and my husband did take legal charge but fuck … I just want my mother rn. Once again she let me down.

XOXO

Yours Truly''

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tryingahandinholdingapen · 3 months ago

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I kind of want to either write or read a time travel fix-it fic where it's Tobirama who travels back in time - BUT it's not Tobirama's POV. He's only a side character. It's mainly focused on Madara and Hashirama. Occasionally Mito, Izuna, Touka

This post got real fucking long so here's a read more

Just a really funny fic where you never quite get to see what Tobirama is doing, because he's not the POV character and the other characters don't know/don't pay attention to what he's up to. But like he is doing important stuff yk he's taking advantage of that future knowledge

For example:

Madara and Hashirama meeting at the river. They've figured out/confessed to their respective clans and are discussing peace and who in their clan might or might not support them

Madara asks about Tobirama and Hashirama is like "Hm? Tobirama? Honestly I don't think he cares about the Senju-Uchiha war at all. He's far too occupied with his own war against the mold youkai."

"....The what?"

(It's not too obvious from Hashirama's POV that Tobirama keeps sneakily fucking up Zetsu's machinations, but what's significantly more difficult to ignore is that Tobirama is increasingly getting ambushed by White Zetsu drones ('mold youkai') - that he eliminates with extreme prejudice and alarming fury)

Just, stuff like that. Main plot is making peace, focused on most of the main family EXCEPT Tobirama (who is otherwise occupied and is thus rarely focused on much) and possibly Izuna. So it's all stuff about battles between the Senju and Uchiha, probably having to deal with internal issues as well (Butsuma/Tajima? Elders? Coup/assassination attempts?) and plotting how they could possibly get peace, it's stuff like negotiating with the Uzumaki + Mito's marriage to Hashirama, it's the Uchiha having to deal with one of their allied clans turning on them (barely noticed sub-plot during this where Tobirama is trying to prevent/rectify the sabotage Zetsu did to the Uchiha's fancy tablet), it's about planning for their eventual village (Hashirama finds notes on plumbing on his desk, written in Tobirama's hand - when the fuck did he have time for that? where did he even learn about plumbing?), it's about trying to get the Daimyo on side, it's about all the politics of trying to get other clans to move into the village too, it's about ah fuck bloodline thieves discovered there were plans for a shinobi village in the works and are doing a frantic attempt to kidnap/'harvest' as much as possible before the bloodline clans are too protected in the planned village so now we have to deal with this fucking trafficking ring...

The sub-plot is an Tobiizu fic where Izuna is (correctly) CONVINCED that Tobirama is Up To Something, and (incorrectly) decided it's malicious to the Uchiha et al, and has taken it upon himself to investigate and Stop Tobirama's Evil Plans At All Costs

Longsuffering Tobirama is far too busy for Izuna's bullshit. He's attempting to prevent/stop/counteract Zetsu's machinations, he's trying to kill Zetsu, he's trying to destroy the big old statue (yk the one I mean, idk what it's called, if it has a name), he's trying to make sure the bijuu are all safe and Won't get sealed into jinchuuruki OR the aforementioned statue...

(he gets distracted for a bit with a side project wherein he decides actually it would be really funny for him to convert the cave the big statue was in, into a place for the kyuubi to hang out. that takes him quite a while since he has to run Zetsu out (so many White Zetsu drones...), destroy the statue, alter the place accordingly, and then find and convince the kyuubi that actually this is a great idea - without the kyuubi just fucking eating him)

...he's trying to make life easier for Madara and Hashirama (oh, Butsuma died from a mysterious illness right before he could enact his incredibly stupid plan against the Uchiha? damn. what a shame. anyway-), he's having to reinvent everything he remembers from last time he lived through this shit because whilst some of those jutsus/techniques/inventions (cough, Edo Tensei, cough) aren't strictly necessary, some of them are VERY MUCH NEEDED

That takes. So much time. Luckily Tobirama doesn't have to do all the research over again, since he remembers it and it's incredibly unlikely anyone will call him out on it (....except Mito with regards to certain seals. he very begrudgingly does research and writes notes and invents plausible-mistakes-that-could-have-been-a-first-attempt) so for the most part he can skip straight to inventing or writing out the final project/knowledge

Some of Zetsu's machinations are incredibly annoying to counter, actually. Like at some point the blasted weed installed/had nearly installed a puppet ruler in Land of Water which, what? Why? Urgh

(Please imagine the absolutely incredible amounts of suspicion and incredulous disbelief and paranoia etc that Izuna is aiming Tobirama's way once he (eventually) discovers that the 'White Demon' is seemingly MESSING WITH POLITICS RE: WHO RULES A FOREIGN NATION?!?!?! is nobody else seeing this!! Izuna is NOT CRAZY look at this bullshit somebody needs to stop him-!)

So long story short Tobirama has a LOT on his plate and he is so so incredibly stressed. Somebody help this man. None of this shit is helped by the fact that

a) Zetsu realised very rapidly that someone was fucking with his plans, and promptly started trying to kill Tobirama off, or failing that, sabotage Tobirama's plans in turn

(thus the years long and increasingly violent 'war against mold youkai' that starts when Tobirama is like, ridiculously young, and Hashirama casually mentions to Madara)

b) Izuna. Just, Izuna. He's fucking obsessed with Tobirama (why) and also the most paranoid person ALIVE it sometimes seems, and he just, won't stop, sticking his nose in Tobirama's business, how does he seem to be fucking EVERYWHERE doesn't he have anything else to do it's not like Izuna even knows the shadow clone jutsu how is he doing this why-

(Izuna like. What could possibly be more important to my rival than ME. And anyway he can't possibly be doing anything GOOD so it's for the best I intervene really this is entirely altruistic-)

c) amongst all this, Tobirama still has to somehow maintain at least a vague, plausibly deniable, belief that he's like. A regular person, involved in only normal things. Because if anyone finds out what he's really doing, or what Zetsu really is, or that he's from the future (IZUNA GET YOUR NOSE OUT OF-), then that introduces just. SO MANY new moving parts and this is already fucking complicated enough as it is, alright? Yeah yeah yeah teamwork makes the dream work, two heads are better than one, etc, but this is essentially a war of information and manipulation between Zetsu and Tobirama and when your main power is info+manipulation the fucking LAST thing you want is more moving parts + more people who could leak info/know your info/unintentionally fuck up your (future) knowledge. No. As much as possible he has to do this on his own. Which means he needs to act like he's doing nothing at all. Actually spend time with his family, be seen running normal missions sometimes, help in clan matters, attend the Senju-Uchiha battles when relevant...

Which is all really really hard when there's only so much time in the day. And Zetsu doesn't have to worry about 'spending time with family' or anything so any time Tobirama spends doing that instead of working towards destroying Zetsu's shit is-

(thank fuck Tobirama still remembers how he invented shadow clones, is all he can say. thank fuck for that)

Over time Tobirama increasingly gets a handle on his terrifyingly long to-do list, which means that 'Izuna is being really annoying and following me almost all the time' moves up his priority list. Eventually Tobirama figures out that the easiest way to get Izuna to stop GETTING IN THE GODDAMN WAY is to just. Humour him. Give him attention. Yes yes you are the most important person in my life and all this inconvenient shit is just stopping me from devoting my energy to fighting you now if you could just put that lady over there under a genjutsu and- (Tobirama trying to get Izuna to help un-fuck Land of Water, it only sort of works)

At some point they fuck because Tobirama's stress levels are at an all-time high and he needs SOME sort of outlet. (Could be entirely sane+consensual (relatively. given who we're talking about) or it could be dubcon) and Izuna actually chills the fuck out for an entire ten hours afterwards. Amazing. Clearly they'll have to do this again

So they do

(yandere4yandere tobiizu for the win. Tobirama starts out normal (again, relatively, considering who we're talking about) whilst Izuna approached everything about Tobirama in a completely sideways obsessive way from the start, but Tobirama gradually starts to also get more obsessive/possessive over time. Like what do you mean the one person who has followed me unquestioningly for years and wants to kill me and kissed me yesterday and volunteered to help me fight a bijuu might LEAVE?? no. fuck you)

(Izuna with a hiraishin marker tattoo-)

anyway back to 'things even further complicating Tobirama's life':

optional letter d) Tobirama is trying so hard to seem normal and not like he's from the future or fighting an evil mold-plant-creature that wants to revive his mom from the moon. So, so hard. But alas, facts work against him

Like, I mean, imagine from an in-universe perspective. There's this guy with really weird colouring, he's known as the 'White Demon', he's better at suiton than anyone else alive and if you've seen him even SLIGHTLY try it's terrifying (think: drowning on dry land, sudden rain/storm/tsunami, blood ripped from a dozen bodies in half as many seconds-), there's? more than one of him? HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE and he's so fucking hard to kill but even when you kill him he just. doesn't. die. (friendly reminder that Tobirama is abusing shadow clones like nobody's business in an attempt to stay on top of his insane amount of work to do -> yk, the jutsu he invented, that doesn't work like any other clone jutsu, and that in this timeline he has thus far told nobody about. someone destroys a shadow clone and is incredibly alarmed that theres 1) no corpse 2) the White Demon is STILL ALIVE after they KNOW they killed him?!)

There's also rumours about him fighting/negotiating with bijuu, and quite a few witnesses to his ongoing war with 'mold youkai'

The majority of people (excepting like, people he's close to in his own clan, plus Izuna and possibly a few others) aren't sure he ever sleeps or eats or drinks, and wounds don't seem to last long (healing jutsu from the future + whilst he's sleeping/eating his shadow clone(s) are still out and about)

Then there's the insane amount of knowledge and jutsu and inventions he offers-

Long story short on top of everything else, Tobirama doesn't have to deal with people knowing he's from the future or about the whole issue with Zetsu

....He DOES have to deal with basically svery person in existence being 100% convinced he's not human, though

#tobiizu #my own posts #senju tobirama #time travel fix it #for the purposes of this fic zetsu + kaguya would exist but not the rest of the ootsutsuki bc. no. no more space aliens one is bad enough #also ignoring the whole indra+ashura reincarnation thing the sage did bc. no. this fic idea is more than complicated enough as is #anyway yeah ill probably never write this bc its way too many things at once for me to keep track of and id have to do all this worldbuildin #worldbuilding and OCs and stuff but. god i wish it existed. i want to read it #maybe ill at least TRY to plan or write it some day...#if someone else wrote it tho thatd be epic. link me if u do thatd be so cool #but yeah im just cracking up at like. izuna going insane. most of the cast having no idea tobirama is doing anything notable at all rlly #beyond his inventions and occasional paperwork. a longsuffering Tobirama with an IMMENSE workload giving someone the most #dead-eyed stare ever when they try to ask what manner of being he is

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bitchlessdino · 10 months ago

Text

"like i can" (m)

a/n: maybe ill fix it up with a banner after but for now i just need yall to see the vision

w.c. 1.6k

warning: fratboy!chan x older working adult fem!reader dynamic, ex's younger brother, mommy kink, switch!chan, a lot of dirty talk, unprotected sex, possessive chan, oral (giving and rec), praise kink, exchanging cum, probably grammar mistakes

Tagging @the-boy-meets-evil @dirtysvthoughts @okiedokrie @kwanisms @highvern @whipped-for-kpop-fics @wonustars @sluttyminghao for those who was there that helped me or brain rotted me ily and hopefully I didn’t miss anyone

You swore off men. Anyone with a dick would be off limits. Especially Lee men. After your last relationship, dick truly fucked up any potential future relationship for you.

So why the fuck were you on your knees? You had no excuse being there, no excuse for sucking dry your ex-boyfriend’s younger brother. No matter how hot and sweaty he looks after coming home from the gym. You were just there to drop off his asshole brother’s things. And maybe have that lemonade he was offering. And surely lemonade is not code for a mouth full of frat boy dick like when you were in college.

Yet somehow.

“Shit…this is so…wrong…” As Lee Chan fought you off with his words, his hands decidedly thread through your hair, locking his soft kind eyes with you as your lips wrapped around his cock and slobbering over his length that was a surprisingly pleasant size.

“He’s gonna fucking hate me,” he whined, only for his hips to softly piston in your mouth.

Your moans vibrated against his skin, sending waves of nerves throughout his body. Chan was irrevocably enthralled by you and always has been when his brother introduced you to his family for the first time, but never in all his years did he imagine he’d have you in such a position. In any position really.

The corner of your lips stretched to your ears, licking a long thick stripe up his shaft before cradling his cock against your face. “Do you want to stop, pretty boy?”

His lips parted to speak only to close back up, pressing them into a firm line before another moan escaped through them as you kissed his bulging veins. The whites of his nails piercing the leather of the couch he was pinned against as his eyes fell shut, muttering a mantra of apologies for his older brother missing in action.

“You’re such a good boy to worry about your brother. He’s so lucky to have you,” you complimented as you stroked him around a clenched fist.

Chan shook his head, a remorseful frown on his face. “Definitely not a good enough one,” he managed to mutter.

“But look, you’re letting your brother’s ex girlfriend suck your cock but all you can think about how he’d feel. You’re such a good boy.” Your nails claw down his bare torso, from his heaving pectoral to to his clenched abdomen. Someone above put a test in front of him and he was failing. “And too good of a brother.”

He swallowed a lump down your throat, feet glued to the ground, stooping his knees from completely giving out. “This…shouldn’t have happened…it shouldn’t be happening—“

“Then why don’t you stop me?”

He exhaled a shallow breath. “You know why I can’t.”

“Dumb it down for me why don’t you?”

“Fuck,” he buried his reluctance in the back of his throat, hips leaning towards you before they shifted, gaining momentum. “It’s you, that’s why.”

“Me?” You chuckled before putting him back in your mouth, squeezing around his girth.

His hands found claim back on your hair before losing control of his morals, no longer tiptoeing around eggshells and instead crushing them along his path. “Yes, you.”

Your eyes dilate a centimeter too wide when his tense expression melts into one of acceptance, then determination as his body relaxed into your warmth and plummeted down your throat. “It’s always…been you.”

He could no longer resist your advances, letting out a groan of anguish as he emptied in your mouth, cradling the crown of your head to his groin as his stream poured inside of you, his hips faltering as he the white disappear past your lips. Tapping against his hips, he released you mercilessly, ensuing the coughing and the gagging that inevitably came. “You…dirty boy,” you chided, face warm and throat sore.

He softly scoffed, before picking you up from the ground and smashing his lips against yours. “If you’re not holding back than neither should I…Mommy.”

“Mommy?” You grinned.

“Too much?”

“Oh, baby boy. Not at all.” You threw your arms around him, languidly moving your lips, and letting the taste of his own cum penetrated Chan’s senses, only enticing him more. “Lay it all out for mommy. Can you do that for me, baby?”

He gingerly nodded, hand caressing your face with an inspired smile. “Yes, anything. Anything mommy wants, I can do.”

“What do you want, baby?”

He sighed. “I want to taste Mommy.”

“You do, don’t you,” your kiss him playfully, grinding against his cock, feeling him grow under your touch. “Show me how much you want it.”

“Mmh, I want it,” he lifted you off the ground before moving you back toward the dining table planting you flat against the dining table. “I’ll show Mommy exactly how much I want it.”

He tugged off your skirt, flashing your wet panties practically drenched in your anticipation. You heard him take a sharp breath, already inhaling that scent that he knows was now forever ingrained into every wrinkle of his brain.

“You look like you’re about to eat me alive, baby,” You mused.

“And Mommy would be right.”

He pulled you by the legs, emitting a small yelp, before all you could feel was his mouth on your clothed cunt, sucking your wetness through your lace, and his moans against you, living and breathing inside you. Your hands reach either edge of the table before started riding his face, erupting his giggles, “I get to taste mommy’s pussy…I’m fucking dreaming.”

“Mmh, Chan,” you moaned, your fingers pressing into his head and feeling his tongue explore you like the new world.

“Mommy…” he parted your panties to the side, tasting until it’s only raw heat on his tongue and he swallowing every drop.

“Baby like mommy’s pussy?”

You felt him nod. “Mommy’s pussy is perfect…need her cum in my mouth.”

“Work for it, baby.” You laughed.

“Yes, Mommy.”

If Chan’s mouth was law, you’d be a follower. You embraced every caress, every stroke, every thrust of his tongue. The ‘fuck me’ eyes that stared back at you as he ruined you like rain on parade. You braced on the table, hips taking his face, walls fluttering, and breathing in staggering breaths. “Oh my god,” you spoke as if confessing sin, “I’m gonna cum.”

Chan could not stop himself, and what was between your legs became safe haven. You rode his face until you saw stars, planets, whatever the galaxy offered, while Chan’s name echoed throughout the room and bounced off the walls.

He clamped his grip on your hips, fusing himself to you and tasting your climax flood his gums with the sensation of every twitch of your thighs. As soon as they faltered, he found your lips, mixing your cum in his mouth with remnants of his cum in yours, both swallowing betrayal that’s been long forgotten the moment Chan laid eyes on a freshly single you. “Taste that, mommy? Taste good that pretty pussy of yours is?”

“Baby…”

You tugged on his hair, grinding your hips against him and feel that cock slide against your pussy lips and thinking about how you both were still so close yet so far.

You needed it. You needed Chan. You need to feel him stretch you out fuck the shit out of you. You needed him to ruin you on this stupid family dining room table that humiliates you now that the person that introduced you has put an end to things on his own terms. You were gonna get closure your way and no other way.

“I want baby’s cock in me…”

Chan smiles, hands tracing over your curves and lines. “Mommy, are you asking or are you telling?”

“I’m demanding.”

His smile was only more radiant after your tone shift, positioning himself exactly where he needed to be. “Anything for you, Mommy.”

It’s big. It’s thick. But after the feast Chan had, he was sliding through you with ease, testing the limits of your endurance as he vanished inside you. Your voice gave out, hands planting on either of his shoulders as he took you by the hips to drag you against him across the table.

You rest your forehead against his. “Baby...”

“That feel good?”

You nodded. “So good, baby. Your pretty cock pushing in and out my cum.”

He groaned, his hands moving to squeeze your hips, “Mommy, your mouth—”

“Filthy hmm? Like your cock fucking my mouth or how your tongue tasted my pussy?”

He moaned, against your lips, pounding you against him so desperately the table shook and it was a study table from your experience. “Your talking is gonna make me cum, Mommy.”

“Good because it’s all I want: baby’s cum in mommy’s pussy, squirting your fat load inside of Mommy…Make Mommy yours.”

“Mommy, you’re killing me.”

Your nails ran down his back, pleased. Lips tasting the salt in his sweat, and your breath cooling the heat of his flushed neck. “Mommy just wants you to empty out in her, fuck her better than anyone else has.”

“Better than anyone else…like my brother?” He asked in gentle reluctance.

“Would that be hard for you? You think you can’t fuck me like your brother would?”

Violently, he shook his head. “No,” his hips take flight and a moan cracked out of your lips. “I don’t think anyone would fuck Mommy like I can. Especially my brother.”

“Yeah?” You clenched around his biceps. “You gonna make me forget what he feels like?”

“I’ll make you forget his name.”

“Chan…”

“Mommy won’t remember nobody’s name but mine.”

You don’t remember when it was that you arrived at this house but you’d soon realize when you’d come. And come. And come.

And come until Chan was empty, or at least until someone finally came home. But it was the weekend. Your ex was out of town and so was his parents.

So who the fuck knows when that is.

#svthub #dino smut #lee chan smut #seventeen smut #seventeen dino #seventeen #lee chan #seventeen x reader

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waynes-multiverse · 21 days ago

Text

Time After Time – Chapter 2

Summary: Unable to control your abilities, you’re stuck in the present with Billy Butcher, his team, and America’s first asshole. At this point, you’ve become Soldier Boy’s personal punching bag. But when an accident leaves you stranded in 1942, you run into a familiar face and suddenly rely on your future tormentor’s help as your only hope.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x supe!Reader

Warnings: 18+ for language, angst, humor, reader is a supe with chronokinesis (time manipulation), 1942 says hi, fluff if you squint, SB being a nice and kind human

Word Count: 4.8k

Posted on Patreon March 8, 2025

A/N: Welcome to Bizarro World, where Soldier Boy is somewhat OOC (but still a sly dog). Have fun snooping through his life, folks! Big thank you to everyone for your overwhelming support on Part 1 and kudos to all of you who figured out the little time travel theory we're going with here 🤓🩵

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 2: Is This the 40s?

Deep breaths, you reminded yourself as you squatted in a puddle of mud in an abandoned alley, throbbing and roaring head in your hands. If you could only manage to control your jittering, fragile nerves, maybe you’d find your way back.

Come on, come on, come on…

“Miss?”

Fuck.

Your gaze lifted to the tall, shadowy figure by the mouth of the alley, already recognizing the unmistakeable deep timbres of Soldier Boy before he stepped into the light.

“I believe I told you to leave me alone,” you muttered, annoyed.

An idiot like Soldier Boy would not be history’s downfall. You had to ensure the timeline stayed intact. The less interaction you had with him, the better.

“I know. I’m-… I’m sorry, miss,” he apologized once more to you.

If you hadn’t heard it with your own ears, you wouldn’t have thought apologies were even part of his vocabulary, hearing him say the word twice was almost mind-boggling. Then your eyes fixed on the little black box tightly clasped in his left hand and widened in horror – your phone.

Losing futuristic devices like this was a big time-traveling no-no.

Luckily, Soldier Boy was probably too much of a moron to puzzle it altogether. That might just be history’s saving grace.

“You-, uh, you lost this. Just wanted to return it,” he said and tentatively held the phone out to you.

With an exhaustive sigh, you jumped to your feet and ripped the device out of his hand. “Give that to me!”

You huffed a ‘thank you’ and stomped down the alley, back towards the busy street. All you needed was a quiet and warm place to figure this out and return to your own time. But Soldier Boy was still hot on your tail, following you with a swift pace.

“Miss, wait! Wait a second! Hey!”

With a few long strides of his bow legs, he had flagged you down before you’d even reached the main street. But that didn’t halt your feet completely, although he’d slowed you down significantly.

“What? I told you to stay away. Stop following me,” you snapped.

“I’m just trying to ensure you’re alright,” he insisted, attempting to appear as harmless as possible.

At this point, you thought you were beginning to hallucinate because your mind tried to convince you there was actual, legitimate worry gleaming in his forest green eyes. In reality, he was probably just acting to save the damsel in distress, so he could warm her up at his penthouse and slip something into her drink.

Not fucking happening.

“I’m fine.” You gritted a smile and opted to ignore him as you scurried past the first crowd of people on the sidewalk.

“No offense, miss, but you don’t seem fine,” he insisted and ran in front of you, blocking your way. With a frustrated groan, you finally stopped and sent him a glare, but he only met you with a sincere look. “Let me help you, alright? I promise I mean no harm or ill-intention if that is what you’re worried about.”

Ha!

Internally, you snorted. But he raised his open palms again as if to prove his words, his eyes boring intensely into yours. He might as well have been fucking Mindstorm.

“Listen, you look like someone who’s used to getting what he wants all the time, but no means no. Stop following me, okay?”

You hoped you had finally drilled the message into his thick skull and he’d leave you alone after this, but alas he wouldn’t be Soldier Boy if he listened to you. One step past him, and a hand grabbed your arm.

Ready to fend him off, you were surprised to find his grip wasn’t strong by any means. It was barely a brush before he dropped his hand again and looked at you remorsefully.

“I’m sorry! I just-… Please let me help you,” he reiterated with imploring green eyes. “Look, you clearly seem lost. Just tell me where you live, and I can get you home safely, okay? C’mon, you can’t do this to me.” He tried to loosen you up with a charming smile and a puppy dog look. “If you leave like this, I’m going to be up all night, worrying you’ve died of hypothermia out here.”

And my God, he seemed sincere! No wonder he had gotten attention from women like a goddamn bunny in a petting zoo.

Musingly, you then chewed on your lower lip and assessed the man in front of you. The people who strolled by you threw you the occasional weird looks – you’d chosen a bad day to wear a Led Zeppelin t-shirt and ripped jeans.

Admittedly, you could use a little help here. Maybe if you were being careful with the timeline – and him – you could risk it.

You exhaled a hesitant breath, but your head nodded slightly. “Just-, uh, just get me to Fifth Avenue. I can find my way from there, alright?”

It was a simple request, but his brows drew together as if you’d just asked him something insane.

“Fifth Avenue as in New York City?” he questioned.

Oh no, you didn’t like where this was going.

“Yes?”

He clicked his tongue, scratching the nape of his neck where the collar of his coat ended. “Well, uh, I guess I could take you there tomorrow. It’s about a four hour car ride in this weather. I mean, if we took the train, we’d be a little faster.”

Four hours?!

“Where-, uh… What, uh, what city am-, am I?”

He clicked his tongue again. This time, a little smirk twitched on his lips too, but he tried his best to hide his amusement. “Uh, Philadelphia. You know, Pennsylvania?”

“Yeah, no, I know geography, thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

Curling your lips, you tilted your head at him, your cheeks catching heat, even though you were practically freezing. Oh, he was trying to be clever now, wasn’t he?

Sheepishly, he met your eyes and smiled innocently.

But when that little fascinating moment had passed, you realized you were still stuck here, and the panic set back in. Your gaze flickered around – there was nowhere you could go. However, you then noticed something else – no one was staring at Soldier Boy, even though he was supposed to be America’s greatest hero. Was he in a disguise? Was that what he did back then?

“So, uhm… is this the 40s?”

There was beat of silence as he licked his lips. “Yeah, uh, this is the 40s, sweetheart.” He laughed heartily, throwing his head back. “You know, I’ve had some bad hangovers and woke up someplace, not knowing where I was, but I’ve never forgotten the year before.”

No surprise, you thought wryly and then swallowed, glancing back up at him.

“So, uhm, what year is this?”

“It’s January 24, 1942,” he replied patiently, his eyes watching you closely.

And then, it began to dawn on you.

“And what d’you do? Are you, uhm–“ Soldier Boy? “–a soldier?”

He laughed again, his cheeks slightly blushing in the cold. He adjusted the flat cap on his head. “Uh, no. Well, not yet anyways. I actually just came from the office downtown and enlisted when I ran into you.”

Holy fucking shit.

The man before you wasn’t a supe yet. He wasn’t Soldier Boy yet. He was just a normal human, and you felt like you were staring through the looking-glass and seeing Wonderland.

And if your math was correct, it also meant the guy in front of you was no more than 23 years old.

Holy fucking shit.

“But, uh, I also work at my father’s office,” he added after you hadn’t said anything. “Why are-, why are you looking at me like that?” he then asked with a flustered chuckle, and you realized you were still staring at him.

“Oh, uhm, I’m sorry,” you apologized quickly and forced a smile. “You just looked like a soldier, I guess.”

His cheeks reddened even more as he bashfully averted his eyes to the snowy pavement and scratched the back of his neck. “Well, uh, thank you.”

He clearly took it as a compliment that he already looked the part of a hero. Nice save, you praised yourself.

“Why-, uh, why don’t we get you warmed up a little, huh?” he suggested kindly and finally dared to step closer. Swiftly, he took off his coat and draped it over your shoulders and bare arms. “Here, take my coat. You poor thing must be freezing. Look at you, you’re shaking.”

His smile was friendly and reassuring as he adjusted the collar around your neck. Uncomfortably, you rolled your shoulders, though, and backed away from his touch.

“Alright, uhm, just please don’t touch me,” you said, your voice meek and barely audible. You knew technically it wasn’t the same guy who had abused, tortured, harassed, and bullied you for months on end, but you still didn’t want his hands anywhere near you.

“Okay, yeah, sure,” he resigned and raised his palms again before gesturing down the street, trying his hardest not to lay a hand on the small of your back and lead you there himself. “There’s a diner a few blocks from here. Would that be okay?”

Reluctantly, you nodded, wrapping the thick coat, which smelled like his cologne and cigars, tighter around you as you followed him.

Fortunately, the diner was quaint and dimly lit. The bell above the door jingled as you entered with your unwanted sidekick. He made sure to always stay one step behind you, and you didn’t know if it was because it was polite to let the lady go first, or if he just wanted to keep a watchful eye on you in case you’d make a run for it again.

You passed a row of customers sitting hunched over at the counter before Soldier Boy – or not Soldier Boy yet – then picked a table in a quiet corner, away from everyone else as if he knew you’d appreciate the privacy. The less people saw and noticed you, the better. You knew you had to get home fast before messing up the intricate fabric of time too much.

“So, uh, what’s your name?” he asked as the waitress placed down his simple black coffee and your Earl Grey, your cold hands quickly grasping onto the hot mug and warming against the ceramic.

“Uh… Cindy,” you replied quickly, not wanting to give him your real name and share too much. It was smarter to be careful.

“Cindy, huh?” The name rolled off his tongue with a subtle smirk as if he liked the sound of it. “Does that come with a last name?”

“Uh, yes… Lauper,” you replied and bit your lip hard. “I’m, uh, from the Lauper’s of Upstate New York, you know? From a small town called, uh… Flatiron.”

“Huh. Interesting…” he mused, pursing his lips. “Never heard of it.”

“Yeah, well, like I said, it’s a small town…” you deflected and sipped on your drink.

“Well, uhm, I’m Benjamin Brooks,” he introduced himself with a suave smile. “But, uh, most people just call me Ben.”

When you only gave him a disinterested nod, he licked his lips, his fingers tapping against the coffee mug in his hold before he looked at you again and cleared his throat.

“You’ve, uh, probably heard of the name. My father owns half the steel mills in the state,” he said with a bragging grin, which lost its energy when you still didn’t give him the time of day.

“Uh-huh…”

“Brooks Steel Company? You’ve never heard of it?”

“Nope.”

“Huh.” Somewhat defeated, he pursed his lips, his fingers tapping on the table this time. Then, a soft smile formed as he leaned back in his seat. “So, uh, what about you? What brings you here to Philadelphia?”

“Uhm… business,” you said as if you were answering a customs question at the airport.

“Really? What kind of business?”

“You ask a lot of questions…”

He chuckled slightly, his cheeks blushing. “Well, uh, excuse my curiosity, please. It’s just-… well, the clothes you’re wearing and the, uh, weird black box you’re carrying… What is it, anyway?”

Shit.

“Uh, it’s a… flashlight,” you replied, thinking of the most basic function of your phone.

“Flashlight?”

“Yes, it’s a… prototype. Uses lithium-ion batteries instead of the carbon-zinc ones you find in flashlights at this… current time… right now,” you explained in a careful stammer and only realized you might have said too much when his brow raised.

“Huh.” He stumped for a beat. “You know a lot of technical things for a woman.”

Internally, you wanted to groan at the sexist remark, but considering it was 1942, you had to admit he was probably right. Even in the 21st century, it was still a rarity to find a woman in a STEM field.

“Yes, uh, well, my father taught me some stuff,” you lied. As a matter of fact, your father was a drunk loser, who couldn’t change a single lightbulb even if you turned it into a joke. “You know, just small… simple things. God knows I could barely understand what he was saying half the time.”

Your silly giggle at the end was the cherry on top of your sales pitch.

“Ah, that makes sense,” Ben bought it, chuckling.

Jesus fuck, shoot me…

“Where did you get it?”

“Huh?”

“The flashlight.”

“Oh…” Think fast. “I-, uh, I built it, yeah… To sell, you know? It’s an experiment, but it failed, so you can forget about it, okay?”

That was believable, right? Wozniak got nothing on you. And technically, you had already swapped out the broken screen glass of your vPhone multiple times – by yourself. It wasn’t so far-fetched if you really thought about it…

“Alright.” Ben nodded, a smile playing on his lips as he took a sip of coffee. “And, uh, is that why you’re wearing those clothes? Are you a mad scientist or farmhand or–“

Your eyebrows drew together. “A farmhand?”

He laughed lightly, shaking his head. “I promise I don’t mean any offense, sweetheart. It’s just women… people usually don’t really run around wearing… well, that,” he explained and gestured a hand up and down your frame.

Uncomfortably, you wrapped his wool coat tighter around you, the small, pleased twitch of his lips at your action sending a shiver down your spine. As you let your glance wander through the small establishment, you noted the tight dresses and skirts with tailored waists all women were wearing. You definitely looked odd and out of place compared to all the Mrs. Maisels around you.

Most of them were even wearing hats, too. Hats. Wide-brimmed ones and pillboxes and snoods and berets. Fucking berets.

And here you sat – with a messy bun that you hadn’t even bothered to brush once after rolling out of bed this morning.

“No, I-, uh, I just grabbed what I found,” you answered him quickly then but could see his lips parting with another question. Luckily, you were interrupted this time.

“Benjamin Brooks! You rat bastard!”

Ben’s green eyes widened almost comically as he shared a brief look with you before turning his head to the young, furious woman who stormed into the diner, heels clicking on the floor.

Ah yes, finally a more familiar side of the man you recognized from the future.

“Grace, darling!” Flustered, he rose from his seat with an awkward laugh, and you could tell he was trying to keep the drama on the down-low for your benefit.

The harsh slap across his cheek he instantly received, however, echoed loudly through the quiet diner. A few heads turned as cutlery clinked against tableware, but no one dared to say anything. You buried your face in your tea and tried to stifle your laugh.

Man, you would love to slap the human version of him, too.

“Don’t darling me, Benjamin, after you’ve been two-timing me with that tramp Betty Vanderbilt!” the girl yelled loud enough for the whole diner to hear.

Sheepishly and with a bit of charm, Ben scratched the back of his neck. “Well, to be fair, I thought you knew about Betty. We weren’t exactly exclus–“

He barely got the word out before another slap rang through the diner as her hand came down hard on his cheek once more. It was turning crimson red rather quickly and was a sight to behold. You had to admit you liked that girl.

“Not exclusive?! We’re engaged, you dog!”

Holy shit! Soldier Boy used to have a fiancée? Well, you’re not surprised that didn’t work out…

“I already forgave you once for sleeping with Sheila! I can’t believe you did this to me again!”

As much as you enjoyed the show, you appreciated the distraction and saw it as a perfect opportunity to sneak away and finally get rid of him. Stealthily, you rose from your chair and crept by the arguing couple to the exit.

You were warmed up enough to find shelter on your own and hoped the timeline wasn’t too cracked when you’d return. Mostly, though, you hoped Soldier Boy was too self-centered to remember someone like you.

You had made it all the way to the sidewalk again before his voice reached your ears. You sighed your frustration but kept on walking, ignoring his calls.

“Cindy! Hey, uh, wait!”

Shit.

Why was he so fucking fast? He wasn’t even a supe yet.

Once more, he came to a stop in front of you and blocked your way. “Why-, uh, why did you leave? I mean, I know this looked really bad, but–“

“Look, uh, thank you for everything,” you interrupted his beginning of an excuse with as much patience as you could find within yourself. “I know you’re trying to be nice and all, and you’ve been super kind… But I’ve got it from here, alright? Just forget you ever met me, okay?”

Amused, he snorted. “Well, kinda hard to forget someone like you, sweetheart.”

Fucking fuck.

“What d’you mean? I’m completely normal.” You tried to shrug it off, but you’d never been the best actress – another thing the two of you had in common.

“No, you’re not.” A smirk rose on his lips that he tried to bite back. “I mean, sure, you’re exceptionally beautiful, but you’re also kind of… mysterious. Guess that’s what intrigues me.”

Fuck. In all your effort to get rid of him and save the timeline, you had actually attracted his attention more. It seemed like your dismissiveness and aggression had only piqued his interest instead of deterring it. Your fallacy was thinking he’d back off from a strong, rude, and unruly woman like you.

You probably should’ve acted more like Grace, Betty, and Sheila – be forgettable.

“Alright, out of curiosity, does this little routine usually work for you?” you challenged, arching a brow. A smile played across your lips as you watched his reaction.

“What routine?”

“Oh, you know… Turning up the charming smile and being nice, while also dropping your rich daddy’s name and how much money you’ve got,” you retorted. “I mean, I guess it must work, right? Surely worked for Grace, Betty, and Sheila so far.”

Bobbing his head, he pursed his lips for a moment while you enjoyed your win. But with a smack of his lips, he found your eyes, the little smirk on his lips not fully vanished yet.

“Alright, I know how this looks, okay? But it’s not what you think,” he started.

“Oh, so you didn’t sleep with all of these women?”

“Well, uhm…”

Complacently, you threw him a smile. “Goodbye, Benjamin.”

“No, wait! Why don’t you come back inside with me where it’s warm and let me explain everything?” he proposed and then sent you that charmingly cute smile again. “I’m kinda starting to freeze here, you know? You’re still wearing my coat, sweetheart.”

“Oh, uh… Sorry.” Your brow knitted as you stared down at the warm, long clothing item around you. Flustered, your cheeks blushed, but as you began to take it off with the intent to hand it back to him, he stopped you.

“No, uh, please keep it. I can find another one,” he said, laughing softly. “Besides, it looks better on you.”

God, you wanted to slap him like Grace.

“Well, uhm, thank you, but I’m still not coming back in there with you again, alright?” you said firmly. “I have to get going now. Don’t follow me anymore.”

You tried to push past him, but of course, he still wasn’t listening to you.

“Wait! Just wait a second!”

And you knew if you didn’t stop, he would just keep following you till you both died of hypothermia. So, you spun to face him with a deeply impatient frown.

“Do you even know where you’re going? Do you have a place to stay?”

“Yes.”

“Where? In New York? You know, you’re not going to make it there on foot today. Especially during this weather,” he noted with a bit of playfulness in his voice. “Unless, you’re planing on stealing a car.” He chuckled but then lifted a brow at you. “You’re not, are you?”

“No, of course not!”

Well, not the worst idea…

“Alright, look, my parents are out of town for a month. Got the the whole mansion to myself. Just stay at my place for the night, and we can figure out how to get you to New York in the morning, alright?”

“You do know what that sounds like, right? Are you even hearing yourself?” you questioned, causing him to laugh again. It was still weird to hear it without undertones of viciousness in it – like a temporal whiplash.

“The house is big enough, and I promise you’ll have your own bedroom. Not mine, alright?” he clarified but tried to hide a smile. “Unless–“

“Nope.”

“Alright, well, uh, the point is, it’s big enough, so you don’t even have to see me if you don’t want to,” he added with an innocently imploring look. “Just let me help you, please.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, your brow only creasing more. “Why do you wanna help me so badly, huh? I don’t understand. I mean, are you really doing this out of the sheer goodness of your heart of gold? What’s your angle here, soldier boy?”

He chuckled, his cheeks warming with a flush. “Gotta say, kind of like that nickname.”

“I bet you do,” you muttered wryly. “So, why? Why are you helping me?”

Ben scratched his jaw and took a step closer to you. The air shifted, a part of you wondering if he’d finally drop his mask. He kept his deep voice low as he spoke.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I know you’ve been serving me a lot of bullshit today.” Your heart stopped, but when you glanced at him, he wasn’t angry. He was… worried. “I don’t mind, okay? You just-… you look like someone who’s in a bit of trouble, and I guess I can relate, so let me help you, alright?”

“I-… I don’t know,” you replied honestly this time, both hesitation and caution shimmering in your eyes as your teeth clawed into your bottom lip. “What if I say no, you’re gonna hand me over to the cops? The asylum people?”

“Is that where you broke out from?”

A bit offended, you gasped. “The asylum?!”

Granted, you were acting a little crazy – for the time period. You were perfectly ordinary and sane in your own century.

Oh God, was that how Soldier Boy felt in your time? Always displaced and out-of-touch? What a horrible feeling…

“No, jail,” he said then, which caused your brow to raise in surprise.

“Oh.”

He cocked an eyebrow at you. “Wait, did you break out of jail?”

“No!”

“Alright, uhm…” Ben laughed and rubbed his palms together, probably to keep himself warm. His sandy-blond hair had collected quite a bit of snow. He must’ve forgotten his cap inside the diner. “Listen, I’m not going to call anyone. I promise you can trust me, okay?”

That seemed like a trap, right? A demon tricking you into making a deal for your soul.

“Are you, uhm, running from someone?” he asked, with not only concern but also determination to fight whoever was after you gleaming in his eyes.

Ironic, you thought since you were running from him.

“Uh, no, not really,” you replied hesitantly.

“Were you held somewhere?” he asked next, carefully licking his lips. “You know, against your will?”

Yes, by you, you wanted to scream.

“Kinda, yeah,” you admitted softly. And in a way, it felt weirdly therapeutic to confess that to the Dr. Jekyll version of your future Hyde.

“Okay, uhm…” He swallowed subtly, nodding. Then, his eyes bored so sincerely into yours you really thought you’d fallen down the rabbit hole. “Well, you don’t have to be scared. You’re safe with me, alright?”

Fuck. You were fucking screwed, weren’t you?

“So? You’re finally gonna let me help you?”

You exhaled a deep breath as you assessed the man in front you once more. You had no place to go, it was cold, and the sun was beginning to set. Your powers, on the other hand, still seemed to be dormant.

“Fine,” you caved at last. “One night. And you better not crawl into my bed, alright?”

Placatingly, he raised his hands again but there was a broad smile on his freckled face this time. “Understood, loud and clear. I heard you earlier – no means no.”

Wow. You began to wonder what really happened to the guy in the following 80 years to shape him into the toxic piece of shit you have to deal with on a daily basis.

“You sure your fiancée won’t mind if you take another woman home? I don’t wanna get burned at the stake again,” you quipped, but there was wariness behind it. Grace’s slaps looked pretty painful. You’d rather avoid it if you could.

“Again?”

“Long story,” you sighed. When you first had told Soldier Boy about your past, he’d been kind and understanding. He’d said it was a good thing that all those people who tried to burn you were dead now – which was about the nicest thing a guy like him could’ve said.

Then he turned around and made fun of you for months on end.

“Well, uhm, I can assure you she won’t kill you. It’s not like that, alright? She’s not my fiancée. Trust me,” Ben said, amused.

“That’s not what she said,” you pointed out. You were definitely believing that woman over him. He was a fucking dog – as Grace put it. You were sure that personality trait was the same at any point in time.

“Technicality.” He shrugged it off. You arched a brow. He smirked. “It’s a long story, too.”

You rolled your eyes, sighing. “Alright, fine.”

Ben’s smile twitched eagerly to rise higher by the heartbeat. “Okay, uhm, my car’s over there.”

He gestured down the street past the diner and let you pass, only walking closely next to you but careful not to touch as his arm only hovered protectively behind your back.

“Still no touching there, alright, Romeo?” you reminded him with a stern finger.

“I know,” he sang, chuckling. “Just trying to be proactive here. There’s a lotta ice, you know? Wouldn’t want you to slip in your basketball shoes.”

For reference, you were wearing a simple pair of black Chucks.

“Fine, I’ll allow it.”

“You allow it, huh?” he teased with a boyish grin.

“Yeah, I’ll allow you to protectively guard me from a distance,” you retorted. “You’re not supposed to enjoy it, though.”

“Oh, I don’t think that was the deal we made, sweetheart.” His grin grew even wider now.

“Don’t make me regret this already,” you sighed.

“Well, uh, too late. We’re already here,” he then said and stopped, motioning to a deep emerald green, elegant, sleek car with a beige convertible roof. “That’s it. It’s a Cadillac 75. What d’you think?”

“I don’t know enough about cars to be impressed,” you told him.

He laughed, rubbing his chin. “Well, worth a shot.”

Ben then opened the door for you and waited till you were safely seated inside (or trapped) before rounding the vehicle and sliding into the driver’s seat.

And as the two of you drove down the snowy streets of Philadelphia, you wondered if you had just gotten into a car with Clarence or with the fucking devil himself.

▶️ Chapter 3: I'm Going To Be a Lady If It Kills Me

Ah, yes... Wouldn't we all love to slap him like Grace in the future? 😂 What do you think of young Ben so far? While he seems nicer and kinder than his alter ego, there are surely some core personality traits present 😜

Coming Up:

Reluctantly, you stepped into the hallway, unsure of how to ask, but the need to find something – anything – took over. It wasn’t like you could just wander around in a towel, although you were sure your host would probably appreciate the sight.

“Uhm, Ben?” you called softly, your tone a little shakier than you'd intended.

A few moments passed before his voice answered from down the hall, a bit too loud, as though he’d been waiting for this. “Yeah?”

“I-, uh, I don’t have... anything to wear,” you said quietly and swallowed, your gaze drifting to your bare feet on the floorboards.

There was a long pause before he appeared in the doorway, his face flushed. “Right. Well, I-... I can get you something,” he said. His eyes flicked to the floor for a moment before meeting yours again, the awkwardness hanging between you like a palpable thing that you could reach out and touch with your fingers. “I–” His voice dropped lower as he turned away for a second, his hand on the doorframe. He then gave a brief chuckle, almost self-conscious. “I don’t usually keep spare clothes for, uh, guests. But I’m sure I can find something that fits you. One second.”

You felt tethered to the ground as he disappeared down the hall, unsure whether to laugh or fucking scream. He came back a few moments later with a shirt and pants, an outfit clearly meant for a man, and you were pretty sure they were his own. The fit would be loose, but better than nothing.

“Here,” he said, offering it to you. His gaze lingered on you a second longer than was probably polite before he turned away again, his cheeks tinged pink.

Yeah, you had to get rid of the towel. You didn’t want to give him any ideas – or more, for that matter. He’d already seen you naked various times in the future. You knew privacy was an alien concept to that man.

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