#one thing about me is that I will always be indecisive | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

elleaitch22 · 11 hours ago

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Terms of Endearment

Chapter 6: Peace, Interrupted

A/N: Busy week this week, so I hope I'll be able to post chapter 7 by Wednesday! I hope you love it!! xx Elle

Warnings: Emotional abuse recovery and homophobia

Word Count: 3.4k

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Azzi blinked slowly, as sunlight began to peek through the curtains of her new bedroom. For a moment, she just lay there, listening to the quiet. No sirens, no shouting, no heels clicking outside her window. It was different. Peaceful.

Chicago was a city that never slept, but on the 59th floor of the Aurelia, Azzi finally could.

This was the first weekend she had been able to go to sleep before 3 a.m. since moving to Chicago. Now that she was free of Maison Noire, she would not be going back, ever. She had no more late-night shifts or weird customers, all because of Paige.

She nuzzled further into the soft, silky sheets and inhaled deeply. The lavender scented detergent lingered in the air, soothing Azzi’s nerves. She was rested now. She could think about Paige and all these handouts with a fully present mind.

A condo. A driver. Money. Too much money.

On one hand, Azzi wanted to say that it was a more acceptable form of what Grant was doing to her. But Jana’s comment from yesterday popped back into her head.

They said I’m family now.

And Paige? Paige clearly took care of her family.

Azzi decided she should wait it out.

People always show you who they are if you give them enough time.

She rolled out of bed, padding barefoot across the wooden floor to the bathroom. She brushed her teeth, twisted the front of her hair into a bun, and slipped into some leggings and an oversized t-shirt from her dad. She sighed as she pulled on a pair of fuzzy socks – Azzi hated cold floors.

She sat at the table, cataloging what the apartment had and listed what she still needed. She was still doing an inventory of the refrigerator’s contents when she heard a knock on her front door.

Unlike yesterday, Azzi was fully awake – awake enough to panic. Had Grant found her?

Breathe, Azzi. No one knows you live here, except for safe people.

Peeking in the peephole, she saw Ice outside balancing a tray of coffee on top of a stack of books.

She flung the door open. “Let me take some of that for you!” She exclaimed.

Ice handed off the tray and followed her into the living room.

“No shoes inside,” Azzi added.

Ice kicked her Crocs off by the door with a playful smirk, before continuing into the apartment with a slight grimace. “I’m so happy Paige sent me,” she started, “This place is making me depressed.”

Azzi ducked her head and blushed. “Excuse me,” putting a hand to her chest dramatically. “Somebody decided to move me out of my old palace and move me into this dump with no notice!”

The women giggled, “Seriously though, I’m excited to help you make this space come to life! First things first, what kind of vibes are you wanting?”

“Oh,” she paused to think. Azzi was already indecisive, but her previous relationship did not help with that. “Um, maybe just a calm vibe?” She said, unsure.

“Well, there are many different ways we could style calm. We could do forest calm with lots of greens and browns. We could do beachy calm with blues and taupes. Or we could do a darker calm, grays, blacks, and whites. Which would you pre–”

Before Ice could finish her statement, Azzi’s front door opened. “What’s up girly pops!” KK strolled into the kitchen happily. She plopped onto the couch. “Am I late?”

“Who even invited you, Kamorea?” Ice rolled her eyes.

“Girl boo!” She turned to Azzi. “Paige said y’all were gonna meet up today, and I felt let out. I’m here to help!” She beamed.

Azzi loved the happy and lighthearted energy KK brought everywhere she went. She understood why everyone liked her so much. “Thanks for coming, KK. Do you guys want some breakfast? I was going to make an omelet before Ice came over.”

Both women put their order in with Azzi, Ice moving to the dining room to make a few sample boards for Azzi to choose from, while KK followed Azzi into the kitchen.

The next thirty minutes were filled with rapid fire questions.

Why do you work with children? Do they annoy you? What do you do when you’re mad? Do you ever lose your temper? What made you want to teach anyway? What’s your favorite food? Are you allergic to anything? Did you know Soleil is allergic to gluten too? Twins! How do you feel about the arrangement and everything? Is there anything we can do to make this easier for you? Do you know how hard it is to get into our family? You know you can always ask us for help? Am I your favorite so far? Do you have social media? Can you send me your handles? Oh, you don’t have my number, here. The most important question, what are all your favorites? Food, color, season, vacation, place, restaurant, movie, show, artist, song, book, smell, holiday.

Azzi had felt like she’d undergone an interrogation, not as aggressive as it could have been, but KK was obviously fishing for information.

She didn’t mind though. Initially, she felt almost guilty, laughing and joking with her new friends. Grant never allowed her to have girl time. During the first thirty minutes of Ice and KK’s visit, Azzi looked towards the front door every two or three minutes. She was tense, bracing herself for the angry tirade Grant would go on when he got home.

Over time, Azzi’s shoulders involuntarily loosened. Her laugh came easier. And her jokes and sarcasm flowed naturally. She could breathe deeply because she had friends. For the first time in a long time, Azzi had girlfriends again. The thought made her heart stutter in her chest.

“Shut up, KK.” Ice groaned, “Azzi, come pick a sample board before Paige murders me for wasting time.”

Ice had composed seven different options for Azzi to choose from. Which was lovely, except for the fact that Azzi hated making decisions like this. She would rather someone else chose so she didn’t have to sit there stuck on the same question for five hours. She was grateful that she was cooking, so she had something else to occupy her mind.

Azzi knew she didn’t like the ones that were mostly monochromatic, which eliminated three of the seven options. She wasn’t really a fan of the palette with only different shades of brown.

She served the ladies their omelets while she looked closer had the different sample boards. She narrowed it down to three options. Baby pinks, dark teals, and golds. Pinks, oranges, and yellows. And blues and greens.

Without vegetables to cut and omelets to make, Azzi had no more distractions.

Her hands wringed together anxiously. She didn’t want to make the wrong choice.

You can’t even pick which colors you want in your house? You’re a worthless fucking idiot.

“I kinda of like the one with the orange.” Ice said when she saw how flustered Azzi was getting. “Besides, it’s no big deal. If you don’t like it, we can always change it later.”

“Yeah, girly pop! For once, Ice is right! If you do the orange, you can do more happy colors. Like you can have those yellow pillows, and orange and pick rug, and a pink couch! You can have fun in here, and if you decide you don’t like it, fuck it!” KK’s logic made perfect sense to Azzi in that moment.

She swallowed thickly, head jerking in a nod. “S-sorry, sometimes it’s hard for me to make decisions.”

Both women looked at her, sadness in their eyes. “It’s not that bad. My ex, Grant, used to make all the decisions. He was a little controlling, and it’s just a little hard to remember he’s not in charge anymore.” Azzi finished, looking down as the empty plate.

Before either woman could answer, Azzi phone rang loudly. For a second, she was a statue. Fuck, had he found her already?

“Are you gonna get that?” Ice questioned lowly.

Jogging to her room to get the device, her brow furrowed. What the hell is her school doing calling her on a Sunday.

She waited to pick up, “Sorry guys, it’s my boss. Are you cool with waiting for a second?”

Ice nodded, gathering her things quickly. “Yeah, that’s fine. I need to get these plans to Paige so they can be finished sooner.”

KK still had half her omelet, so she stayed – and ended up hearing everything.

“Good morning, Mr. Smith. I hope you’re having a good Sunday.” Azzi’s voice was filled with false cheer. She was still salty over the meeting with Paige and Soleil.

“My day would be a lot better if one of my teachers wasn’t photographed being a harlot!” The principal sneered.

Azzi reeled back, like she’d been slapped. “Excuse me?”

You’re just a slut, Azzi. Not worth anything but your mouth and your cunt.

“I’ve had seventeen parents find me during the service to say their children don’t deserve to be corrupted by someone like you. You’re fired effect–”

Azzi’s eyes bug out of her head. “Fired?” She screeches.

“This can’t be surprising to you, Ms. Fudd. After I just talked to you about your behavior, you start dating your student’s parent!” Mr. Smith fusses.

“That’s not fair!” Azzi exclaims. “Mrs. Baker used–!”

Mr. Smith cut her off. “Well, Mrs. Baker isn’t a lesbian. That goes against our code of conduct. Please be here at 6 tomorrow morning to clean out your belongings.”

Click.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to hit something.

Everything Grant had said to her came rushing back in.

You’ll open your legs for anyone who gives you a little attention. You’re a fucking whore. You think that guy’s gonna want you when he sees how used up you are? I’m so happy I don’t have kids because I could never leave them with you. You’re too fucking stupid to know how to teach them anything. The only thing you’re good at is sucking dick and laying on your back. You’re fucking pathetic. Worthless. Useless. You should be grateful I love you so much because no one else would put up with this shit.

Azzi was spiraling.

KK winced at the guttural sobs coming from Azzi’s room. She felt white hot rage at the things she overheard. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to fix it.

So she waited.

She washed the cutting boards and pans Azzi used to make breakfast. She wiped down the sink and countertops. She made sure everything was put away.

But Azzi didn’t come out. KK still heard sniffling coming from the bedroom, and she sighed. She was about to sit on the couch and wait a little longer before a thought popped in her mind. She knew exactly who could fix this.

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Paige smiled softly, looking at the options Azzi selected for her space. This was probably one of the best ideas she had. She got to dump out piles of money for the brunette, she was able to make sure she had a friend here, and, if KK had done what she was supposed to do, she would know a little more about Azzi Fudd.

Ice was getting to office furnishings when KK burst in.

“Azzi just got fired!”

The chatter between the two women stilled, heads snapping up. “KK what are you talking about?” Ice questioned.

“I heard it. Her principal called. He just fired her for dating Paige. Pictures were going around and parents were complaining.” Her voice was firm, face blank. KK was serious.

The best friends looked at Paige warily. “You didn’t think about that?” Ice questioned sharply.

For once, Paige stuttered. “I-I thought I covered everything.” Rubbing her temples, leg bouncing. “I told Q to bury the story. I paid her ten thousand dollars to make everything go away. She brought me the card with all the pictures on it.”

She was pissed. Obviously at the school, but also with herself. Paige Bueckers was always supposed to be ten steps ahead of everyone else. It was why she assigned Morgan to Azzi, why she moved her into her building. She went on this whole tirade about the media getting information about her, she didn’t even think about the repercussions it would have on her. A queer Black woman working at a Christian school.

Paige didn’t know how she looked at Azzi until she looked at the photos Q had dropped off. Anyone with eyes and a brain could see the hungry gaze Paige gave her. They could see the want as she looked at Azzi painting with Soleil. The heat in her blue eyes was evident during their dance. Of course the school would think they were together.

“FUCK!”

“Mommy, that’s a bad wowd.” Soleil looked up from her LEGO tower, hand extended. “You owe me ten dollaws.”

Paige sighed, forcing herself to calm down. “I’m sorry honey.” She fished a bill out from her wallet, “I was doing so well too.”

“It’s okay! Now I can get some ice cweam!” She smiled brightly.

“I’ll take her! Fire and Ice adventure time.” Ice beamed. Soleil squealed with excitement.

All the control Paige normally had was gone. For years, she’d controlled every narrative about herself. But she lost control last night – she let everyone see how much she wanted Azzi. And she got hurt because of it. She embarrassed her. Cost her everything.

Anyone could see how much Azzi loved her job. It was in the smile she wore when she saw her students. It was in the way her classroom was decorated. It was in the way she talked to children as equals, not second class citizens.

She loved that job. She needed that job. And Paige had gone and fucked it all up.

She’s going to leave. She’s going to leave Soleil.

Paige shook her head. No. Fuck no. She wouldn’t let her mistake screw with Soleil too.

She was going to fix this. She had to fix this. She would have Allie draft a lawsuit. She would buy the school if she needed. She would take all that money for the library and move Lei to a different school. A better school.

Nothing can undo what you did. Paige deflated, lifting her head from her hands.

“She really liked her job.” KK muttered, face serious. “She wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“I know,” Blue eyes traced the designs on the rug.

“Do you want me to get Nika?” Paige nodded sharply.

Nika would know what to do. It was half her job – being the COO and CMO of Kairos Equity meant that she would know how to handle scandals and negotiations. She would tell Paige what to do.

Paige pulled out her phone to text Allie, her lawyer, when Nika’s heels clacked across the polished floors.

“KK told me what happened. What are you thinking?” She cut straight to the point.

Paige ran her hands down her pale face. “Fuck, this is all my fault.” How the fuck was she supposed to prove that she would be good enough for Azzi if she couldn’t even think enough to know that she’d get fired if their “relationship” was publicized? “Nik. I need you to help me fix this. I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me if she can’t keep her job.”

Nika placed a warm hand on Paige’s shoulder. “Nothing like that’s gonna happen. I’ll fix it. Everyone knows you can’t fire someone for their sexuality; there are federal laws to support her. I’ll call Allie and have her look into it. You just need to relax.”

Paige heard the things Nika was saying, but she didn’t quite believe her. Azzi was a good teacher, and Paige’s ignorance costed her a job she was very good at.

“Have you talked to her yet?” Nika asked lowly.

The blonde shood her head, “I was planning on it. Was gonna start with talking about the shit with Ice, then try to get to know her.” She muttered.

“Oh,” Nika breathed. “That’s why you care so much.”

Paige’s head shot up, “What are you talking about.”

“You like her.” She smirked. “You’re trying to woo her, and you think she’s going to be so upset that she doesn’t give you a chance.” The stupid little smirk had turned into a full-blown grin.

“Shut up.” Through clenched teeth. “You really think she’s gonna want to talk to me today? Much less share a meal with me? She should hate me.”

“Suck it up, buttercup!” Nika says, rising from the couch. “Just ask her. She’s nice, so it’s not like she’ll say no. Use your charm and you’ll be fine. Just get her to dinner and talk to her.”

Paige pouted for a little while before doing what her big sister told her to do.

First, she texted Ice and asked her to come back after ice cream so they could finish ordering things for Azzi’s apartment.

Dinner tonight? I’ll be down to get you at 7. Wear whatever makes you comfortable.

Simple. Paige launched her phone to the sofa on the opposite side of the living room. Elbows on knees, she waited for the ding of a text message.

Ding

Azzi Fudd: How fancy is this place?

Paige sighed, she should’ve known Nika was right.

It can be casual or fancy. We’re in a private room. Wear anything but sweats.

The next ding came at the same time of the elevator.

Azzi Fudd: See you at 7

Paige only had a few seconds to wipe the smile off her face before Ice walked in.

Tonight was going to be perfect. It had to be.

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Azzi was confused.

From what she remembered, they had to do one outing a week. They had just spent the entire night at a gala. Cameras followed their every move, surely that had to be enough, right?

Maybe it’s a date? She wouldn’t mind getting to know Paige better. She was pretty, intelligent, and she had the perfect daughter. She was protective enough to make Azzi feel safe, and that is probably why she was dangerous. Grant made her feel safe too, it didn’t last long, but he did.

She knew the signs to look for now. How to differentiate between being controlling and being assertive. She wouldn’t let herself be with someone life Grant again.

Besides, Azzi knew the Paige was out of her league. She’s one of the richest women in the United States. She had seen countless articles about her being the most wanted bachelorette. She’d had girls thirsting over her since she was in high school. She could have anyone she ever wanted, and she didn’t want Azzi. No. She just pitied and appreciated her enough to adopt her into her makeshift family.

Azzi figured she should take advantage of her situation and get as much free stuff as she should. She’d be able to heal her heart later, but pretty blondes who are willing to spoil you don’t come around often.

She was grateful for the distraction the dinner would provide.

She padded to the kitchen, digging for a spoon and some ice cream, before plopping down on the couch. She set an alarm for 5:00 so she’d have enough time to get ready, opting to watch Grey’s Anatomy in the meantime.

The show still played in the background while Azzi was getting ready. She browsed her closet and landed on a burnt orange mini dress. The lightweight fabric flowed while still showing her figure. She paired it with strappy, brown sandals and a light jacket. She pulled her hair up into a tasteful puff, and after adding a light layer of makeup, she felt ready.

Paige knocked on the door promptly at 6:30. She wore an all cream Honor the Gift outfit, a pair of Nike dunk lows, and a nice Dior bracelet. Her hair was left down and in gentle waves. She looked effortlessly beautiful, and Azzi felt a little better about letting the pretty woman ruin her life.

“Hey. I should’ve asked this earlier, but are you allergic to anything?” Paige asked as they walked to the elevator.

“Just gluten, like Soleil. I miss eating things that brought me joy.” She joked.

“Perfect, the restaurant I chose has a great gluten free menu.”

Azzi let Paige lead her, waiting to see how this night would turn out.

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi #pazzi fics #uconn wbb #dallas wings #wnba

121 notes · View notes

zepskies · 9 hours ago

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lol Totally tracks that she'd be questioning her life choices of how she got to this point.

A huge fucking pile of steaming hot shit, basically.

Again, couldn't help myself on the JP references 🤣

But what about Ben? Were you leaving him behind, too? Realistically, you knew it was the smartest choice. As wonderful, otherworldly, and addicting as that newfound, blooming feeling in your heart was, you knew it wouldn’t lead anywhere but into turmoil. This relationship didn’t have a future. Period.

Aw man, I get why her instinct is to flee -- and how ironic that relationship line is 😭 -- but I also get the feeling that her instinct in tough situations is to run from them rather than face them. There was a line in the previous chapter of like, "you hated facing consequences," and in a way, her powers kind of help her do that, even if they have consequences of their own. Reminds me of the old Once Upon a Time theme, "Magic always comes at a price." Feels very similar when we talk about V in The Boys world.

Dottie gifted you a warm smile. “Yeah, I’ve heard how you talk to him. I also overheard what you said that night about me at dinner. You stood up for me. Just wanted to repay the favor.”

Idk why, but here I almost worried that Dottie was setting her up for a future vindictive fakeout somehow, but I'm so glad that she was genuine here and reader earns her support. 💛

“And Grace got with a Kennedy?” you asked, not resisting the curiosity bubbling inside of you and seeing Dottie nod. “Which one?” “I think it was the oldest – Jack,” she replied. You gaped at her. “John F. Kennedy?!”

Still cackling over this and all subsequent Kennedy references! 🤣🤣

You shook your head, forcing yourself to look at him. “‘Cause you’re not a bad guy, right?” you said a little louder, feeling the drops of venom like castor oil on your tongue. And Ben picked up on it, his brows drawing together, facial muscles twitching as he tried to solve what triggered the change in mood. What happened between now and the moment you’d shared in the drawing room only a few hours ago? You knew you were being indecisive. You knew you were being unfair. But you couldn’t let go of that feeling. That tiny, tingling thing that kept gnawing at every bit inside of you. The feeling that kept screaming at you that something was amiss. It was there – right there.

Aw geez, it's like it's getting harder for her to distinguish between future/present and past/present, which, fair enough. 😭 On one hand it is unfair to current Ben, but in his words and behavior are early shades of what he'll become, and it's really hard to set that aside, especially when she can't explain any of this to him.

“Look, I don’t know what the fuck Dottie told you, but this-… this isn’t some game to me. You think I do this with everyone? That I’m using you because I’m bored? That I’m just some spoiled rich kid who gets whatever I want?” He stared at you, disappointment, incredulity, and betrayal swimming in his eyes. You shook your head, your heart thumping painfully in your ribcage. “I didn’t say that. But Ben... I don’t know what I am to you… what this is.” “You don’t get it, do you?” He scoffed bitterly, running a hand through the disheveled, dirty blond locks. “I’ve told you things… things I’ve never told anyone before. I’ve let you into parts of my life that I don’t show anyone else.”

Ben's not "wrong" here, but she also has a really valid point that he hasn't made it clear what they're doing, other than having fun and going on dates. This argument is just so damn compelling on both sides 😭😭

Ben rubbed his mouth with his fingers, head bobbing in thought. “Look, maybe I haven’t made my intentions clear enough with you, but I care about you. I don’t know everything, but I know that I want you. I want this. All of it. The whole damn mess, alright?”

Aw there we go! The first real confession...albeit drunk, but I can live with that. 😂

Ben cupped your cheeks, the kiss on your temple an oath. “I’ll make it work, okay? I don’t know what else to say, but I promise I will. I’ll find a way out of all this... for both of us. But I need you here. I need you with me. I can’t do this alone. I don’t wanna go back to that life without you in it. I just need you to trust me, okay? I need you to believe in me.”

Ok, he would've broken me there for sure 😭😭😭

“Well, thank fucking God you didn’t sleep with him,” Ben muttered as he tightened his arms around you. “I hate that guy. Total fucking pussy.” “Didn’t he graduate Harvard?” you muttered, feeling Ben’s jaw grind on top of your head. Yeah, you weren’t doing JFK any favors now.

lmfao how did we go from crying and heart-wrenching to teasing jealous Ben? I love it so much 😂😂

“Not everything is so simple, Dottie. Mrs. Brooks has always been a lady – always. She’s tried for years, but the man she married–” She sighed, her voice dropping. “It broke her. And now she watches the boy becoming just like him. It’s no wonder she retreats.”

I forget if we ever learn how Margaret met Richard in the future chapters, but it makes me wonder if it was arranged for her, or if she genuinely loved him at first. Or at least, the idea of him, or maybe a facade he used to charm her. Though he strikes me as a man to get married for duty's sake and not for love, considering all his side pieces. 🙄

I love her lol. She's so classy and lovely. And I love that we're already seeing the sparks of life in her returning! 💖

She had imagined, for so many years, that one day she would have a daughter to share these moments with. Unfortunately, that hadn’t come to pass.

Hmm, I wonder if it wasn't for lack of trying, or if Richard just couldn't be bothered to be with his wife. Both make my heart ache for different reasons, if only for Margaret's potential happiness to have a daughter. ❤️‍🩹

“Well, that’s nice,” Grace pressed through her teeth, her polite mask finally crumbling. “But you don’t get it, do you? You’re just the latest distraction, darling. Someone to amuse himself with, and as soon as this little rebellion ends, he’ll come crawling back to someone who knows the rules, and you’ll be just another notch in his belt.” Jesus fucking Christ, why did he always have to date the biggest bitch in the room? And you’d once thought Crimson Countess was a piece of work. But you grew up in a trailer park in fucking Jersey. If a girl like Grace thought she could scare you off with a few words, she had another thing coming.

lol honestly feeling scared for Grace at this point. Classic rich bougie bitch meets broke cutthroat city girl. 😂

Mrs. Brooks gave a gentle laugh, her gaze growing even more distant. “I was just a girl back then. I had no idea what awaited me. But when I met Richard, everything changed.” She paused, her voice darkening slightly as she pushed away the memories of her childhood, like the warmth they brought was something she couldn’t bear to hold on to for too long. “He was everything I’d never known. He was wealthy, educated, and had the kind of connections that I could only dream of. He swept me off my feet. He promised me a life of comfort, luxury, and security. And I thought, ‘This is it. This is everything I’ve been working for.’”

Ahhhh here we go!! It's so fucking sad. You'd think this would be her Hollywood happy ending, but it was just the beginning of her nightmare. 💔 I find it interesting that Richard pursued her, even though she wasn't part of the upper class. Makes you think that he had a glimmer of a heart once too (doubtful), or maybe he was just attracted to her and wanted her, thinking he could mold her into the woman he needed at his side, just like he's trying to mold Ben. His "love" is hard and cold as steel. 😥

Also we've talked about how heartbreakingly sad it is, how she talks about Ben as a child here, and how she's essentially given up on her own son due to Richard's influence.

Her eyes softened, her hand reaching over to clasp yours on the table in a sad understanding. “I know you do. But that’s the problem, dear. When you love someone like him, you’ll always be fighting a battle you can’t win.”

Out of everyone, Margaret's warning to the reader rings the hardest. That she doesn't want him to put out the reader's fire like her own husband has for herself -- it's really not fair to Ben, or to Margaret herself. I love that we see her later "reclaiming her fire," in a sense. 💕

Just so you know, I have read ch. 11 and have THOUGHTS. I will comment over on Patreon soon (and catch up with the latest chapter of Somebody I Used to Know because I need to know what happened after that awful "surprise" 😭), but I just want you to know that I love how much depth you've layered into this story. I'm getting something new with every reread, friend! 💛🩵

Time After Time – Chapter 7

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, reader is a supe with chronokinesis (time manipulation), 1942 says hi, SB being a nice and kind human, freely invented historical gossip, major angst alert & a bit of fluff

Word Count: 10.5k

Posted on Patreon April 11, 2025

A/N: Three angsty converstions in this one, three women, and one very upset Ben! Plus, a deep dive into Mrs. Brooks! If ya can't tell by the word count again, I clearly loved writing this part 😂🫶 ✨ Chapter title comes from The Wizard of Oz (1939)

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 7: Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My!

It had been an agonizing hour of pacing, second-guessing, and questioning everything that had led you here – to this strange, impossible life you had stumbled into.

A huge fucking pile of steaming hot shit, basically.

You hadn’t been able to sit still since Ben’s parents returned, your thoughts racing in a thousand different directions. Each time your footsteps neared the door of the guest bedroom, they became anxiously quiet and soft, however, not wanting to alert anyone to your presence. Every moment in this mansion felt like a misstep, a mistake you couldn’t undo.

The knot in your stomach twisted tighter.

You should’ve left a long time ago, but you had gotten too comfortable here – too cozy and snuggly with Ben, like he was your goddamn security blanket. But you cared about him and cared about what would happen to him, so the last thing you wanted at this point was to cause any more trouble for him, especially with his father.

So, you decided to leave.

You started throwing a few outfits from your closet onto the bed, only wanting to take the most necessary items before realizing you didn’t even own a bag big enough to stuff it in. But you had your magical remote control back, so your plan was to hit pause on the whole fucking mansion, grab a suitcase from somewhere, sneak out, and maybe rob a bank for some pocket change on your way out of dodge.

Yup, good plan.

But what about Ben? Were you leaving him behind, too?

Realistically, you knew it was the smartest choice. As wonderful, otherworldly, and addicting as that newfound, blooming feeling in your heart was, you knew it wouldn’t lead anywhere but into turmoil. This relationship didn’t have a future.

Period.

Either you’d lie to him for the rest of both your lives – however long that would be – or you’d hurt him. There was no other option.

Could you tell him? Could he handle the truth? Vought didn’t even exist yet. Right now, the Nazis were working on Compound V. To Ben, people gaining superpowers would be an alien concept.

‘Hey, uh, by the way, I have superpowers that let me control time, and I’m also from the future, and we don’t actually like each other there. And oh, yeah, you’re still alive in 2023 because some crazy Nazi geneticist will inject you with this serum that turns you into an invincible asshole.’

Nope, you couldn’t imagine that conversation going over well. He’d be either incredibly mad or not believe you at all. Then what?

Fuck.

With fingers trembling, you moved toward the window, glancing out at the muddy street, knowing the path to your escape lay beyond the mansion’s high gates. You were in a mess of your own making – a mess that had to end before you caused any more disruptions. His father was back, and that in itself was a disaster waiting to happen.

It had all been doomed from the start.

But then, just as you were about to gather your courage to finally get the fuck out of here, a knock at the door startled you from your thoughts and broke the tension in the air. Cautiously, you approached it, hand hovering on the knob as you braced yourself for the inevitable.

However, as you twisted it and opened the door a crack, your eyebrows shot up in surprise as you spied your visitor. It wasn’t Ben, his father, or even his mother.

“Dottie?” Your brow furrowed in confusion before you noticed the silver tray with a plate of food and a cup of tea in her hands.

“I brought you something to eat,” she said as she stood in the doorway, her expression one of tentative curiosity. You quickly wiped your palms against your skirt, standing a little straighter as she entered and set the tray down on your nightstand.

“Did Florence or Frances send you?” you asked warily. You knew you weren’t her favorite person, but she shook her head.

“No, just figured you were hungry since you’re missing dinner. I didn’t think Florence wants you starving up here,” she replied, her lips curling into something between a smirk and a sigh. “You dodged a bullet there, by the way. Family dinner is a bit… tense tonight. Lots of awkward silences and judgmental glares. Not that it’s something new per se…”

You were close to a migraine the way you strained your brow, blinking at the young maid in bemusement and shaking your head. “Thank you, uhm… I honestly didn’t think you cared about me… or even liked me,” you noted with an uncertain smile.

Dottie eyed you with a hint of mischief and approval in her gaze, a secretive smirk playing on her lips. “You’re not like the other girls who have come and gone through here. They fall over themselves trying to impress Ben, you know? But you don’t play that game. It’s… refreshing. You’ve got some fire in you. I respect that.”

“Fire?” You cocked an eyebrow, sitting down on the edge of the bed to nibble on your food. You were almost too nervous to eat with your ever-knotted stomach.

Dottie gifted you a warm smile. “Yeah, I’ve heard how you talk to him. I also overheard what you said that night about me at dinner. You stood up for me. Just wanted to repay the favor.”

Your lips hiked a smile. “You’re welcome. And thank you… again.”

Your head bobbed, your fingers playing with a piece of bread roll. You were unsure if you should be flattered you were considered special or uncomfortable with the apparently long list of girls that had waltzed through this house.

Dottie seemed to notice your unease and plopped down on the mattress next to you. “Anyway, I thought you might need someone to talk to. We all like you, you know? The whole house. Especially George. He thinks you’re the smartest woman he’s ever met. You’re different.” She shrugged and sent you another encouraging smile.

Cheeks blushing, you swallowed thickly and met her gaze. “So, things are tense downstairs?”

“Oh, yeah. The old man is furious because Grace’s father called him in upset, saying his daughter had been crying all night because of what Benjamin did to her,” Dottie told you and rolled her eyes back, scoffing. “All fake, of course. Charlotte, the maid of the Du Pont’s, said she was completely fine and consoling herself with one of the Kennedy boys when they were visiting in Cape Cod.”

“Whoa, hold on…” You vividly shook your spinning head and held up a hand, blinking at Dottie’s waterfall of information. “Du Pont? As in the chemical industry empire?”

“That’s the one,” Dottie sang in bitter nonchalance, a bit of judgment swinging in her voice. She clearly wasn’t a fan of the people she worked for – the elite families that not only excluded people like her and you but also disregarded you as human beings altogether.

“And you guys talk among each other? I mean, the staff?”

Dottie snorted a laugh, heavily nodding. “Yes, we gossip a lot. These people always think they’re better than us, but they got more shit on them than you can find in a pigsty.”

You weren’t as shocked by the revelation as you probably should’ve been. In this house, the gossip was as much a part of the walls as the portraits and velvet curtains.

“And Grace got with a Kennedy?” you asked, not resisting the curiosity bubbling inside of you and seeing Dottie nod. “Which one?”

“I think it was the oldest – Jack,” she replied.

You gaped at her. “John F. Kennedy?!”

Dottie giggled at your reaction. “Yes, I believe so. Do you know him, too?”

Innocently, you pursed your lips and shook your head. “No, no, not all. Just heard of him, you know?”

Jesus fuck, Kennedy might have gotten around as much as Soldier Boy. And if those rumors of The Legend were true, did Soldier Boy kill the future president for personal reasons?

Now you understood why the Kennedy assassination had attracted so many conspiracy theories. Well, you could check, theoretically, and see for yourself…

Nope. Don’t open that Pandora’s box!

“Look,” Dottie said after a pause, chewing softly on her lower lip in thought, “I’m sorry if I’ve been a little cold toward you. It’s not personal. I just don’t like the way Ben’s been acting recently. It’s... complicated.”

Your brows drew together as you watched the young woman next to you. “Complicated?”

She let out a dry laugh. “Honestly, complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it. You don’t know the half of it. You’re not the only one who feels out of place here, you know?”

“What d’you mean?”

Dottie leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a quieter, more intimate tone. “Ben’s a good guy, but he’s got a bit of a soft spot for… the wrong things. Florence talks about him like he’s still that little boy who needs his daddy’s approval. I know how it happened, you know – how he ended up with Grace? It wasn’t his idea. It was his father’s. And you know what? Grace wasn’t exactly an unwilling participant in that either. She begged her father to arrange the engagement.”

Her words hit you harder than you expected. You’d known about Grace, but you’d never heard the full story. “She begged?”

Dottie’s lips twisted into something halfway between a grimace and a smile. “Yeah, she begged,” she confirmed, hazel eyes glinting with a mixture of bitterness and amusement. “She thought she could change his mind, get him to fall for her. They had a fling, sure, but she knew Ben didn’t want her like that. They had a big argument about it a few days before. She stormed off, screaming he’d regret it.”

The weight of Dottie’s words pressed down on you, but before you could respond, she carried on.

“His father then announced the engagement at one of his parties here before even telling Ben about it. I mean, he didn’t even ask,” Dottie shared in exasperation. “Ben couldn’t stand it, so he rebelled in the only way he knew how. He found me, we got drunk and pissed off and then ended up in a closet together,” she said matter-of-factly, her tone flat and almost casual, but you could hear the bitter undertones of a scorned woman. “Ben had always been nice to me, you know? We’d gotten along, so when he came to me that night, I thought it was different. But he started ignoring me after. Couldn’t look at me – like I didn’t even exist... So yeah, I guess you could say I’m a little mad at him.”

You hesitated, studying Dottie’s face, looking for any hint of malice. But there was none – just brutal honesty. And you knew what this was by now. Just like Florence on your first day here, Dottie was warning you before you stepped off the ledge and fell.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Dottie said when you still sat in silence, “I’m not trying to paint him as a bad guy. I’m telling you because I care, alright? I just think you should know what’s going on around here. Ben’s got his demons, and his family is a nightmare. He can’t escape what his father’s set up for him. He’s got a leash on Ben, and the pressure’s never going to let up.”

Her words cut through the haze of your thoughts like a sharp blade. You nodded slowly, unsure how to respond. You’d seen bits of that pressure already.

“No, I get it. I appreciate it, Dottie. Thank you,” you said softly. “But Ben’s not like his father. At least, he doesn’t have to be.”

Dottie shrugged, as if the truth was somewhere in between. “Maybe. But Mr. Brooks got a tight grip on him. The kind of grip that can make anyone do things they don’t want to. Even Ben.”

A pang of sympathy reminded you of Florence’s story once more – and all the other cruel acts you’d witnessed in your dreams. Were you blind or just foolish for believing he could change the path he was on?

“Ben’s not as immune to his father as he pretends to be. He’s not as strong as he thinks. Don’t get it twisted. His father’s got his claws in him,” Dottie emphasized. “You’re not the first distraction Ben’s found. Just-… be careful, alright? You don’t know what you’re getting into, but if you’re going to be a part of it–,” she paused, her eyes flicking back to your scattered clothes all over the bed, “–you better be sure about it.”

“Thank you, Dottie.” You nodded with a heavy lump in your throat.

She gently clasped your hand on the bed in a comforting manner and then sent you a kind smile, pulling out a deck of cards from the pockets of her apron. “How about we distract you for a little while, huh? You know how to play Gin Rummy?”

Your lips rose to a smile. “I haven’t played before, but I’m willing to learn.”

Dottie giggled, shuffling the cards in her hands. “Alright, how about I teach you the rules if you tell me about college?”

“Deal.” You grinned.

The clock read past midnight, the only sound coming from the shuffle of cards and the occasional giggles and whispered stories between you and Dottie. The minutes stretched on as you tried to forget what was happening downstairs, Dottie’s words of warning still running on a loop through your mind.

It couldn’t be a good sign that two people in this house have warned you now, could it? Shouldn’t you listen at some point?

An abrupt knock at the door ripped the two of you from your game and disrupted the fragile peace, Dottie’s eyes widening in panic. You both knew who it was.

“Shit,” Dottie muttered and hurried to gather the cards from the bed, stuffing them back into her apron. She hid in a blind corner of the room as you moved to answer the door, not opening it more than a crack.

“Hey,” you said softly and feigned an innocent smile as you met Ben’s gaze, noticing immediately he wasn’t alright. His usually shining emerald eyes carried a glaze, his smile turning lopsided as he took you in with a leer, but the distinct smell of whiskey that clung to him like a second skin was the dead giveaway.

“You’re still awake. I was hoping you’d be. Came to check up on you, sweetheart.” He smirked with shaky pupils.

Before you could stop him, he stumbled forward into the room on unsteady legs and fell straight into your arms. His large hands found purchase on your hips, dragging you closer against his body. He captured your lips, eager, hungry, and with a sloppiness that told you he had a few glasses too many.

You were close to pushing him away, hands already softly pressing against his chest before noticing Dottie trying to sneak past him, so you deepened the kiss instead, your arms winding around his neck, causing a groan to rumble through him. But on her last step, the door creaked on its hinges, and Dottie froze as Ben’s head snapped up.

Glassy eyes wide, he warily turned to the young maid, brow wrinkling into more creases than a crumpled letter. “Dottie? The fuck are you doing here?”

You placed your hand on his arm, forcing him to look at you and ground him at the same time. “She-, uh, she brought me dinner. Florence sent her. She didn’t want me to starve. You know how she gets about food,” you deflected with a giggle.

“Right.” Ben nodded, eyes flickering back and forth between Dottie and you.

“And you know, I guess I got a little nervous, so she’s been keeping me company. We’ve been playing cards,” you added with a reassuring smile, already anticipating his next question as you watched the cogs in his head turn.

“Oh.” Ben licked his lips for a moment and then looked at Dottie. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Dottie said, sending you a quick look of gratefulness.

“And, uhm, Dottie?” Upon Ben’s call, Dottie halted in the doorway, shoulders tense on her way to freedom. “I’m sorry…” he said, surprising you both as you shared a raised look with the maid. “About what-, uhm… what happened, you know?”

“It’s-, uh, it’s okay,” she replied, eyes flicking toward you, clearly unsure of how to respond. You gave a slight shake of your head, and she subtly cleared her throat. “I mean, it’s not okay… but I-, I forgive you.”

You gave her a quick thumbs up, and as Ben looked over his shoulder at you, brow knitted in suspicion, Dottie quickly fled down the hall and closed the door behind her.

Yeah, you might’ve been coaching her a little in those last few hours on how to deal with assholes like him in the future (which you realized was super ironic). But if you couldn’t save yourself from that man’s charm, at least you could save the rest of your gender.

“Didn’t know you and Dottie were friends,” Ben noted, turning his full attention to you now.

“Oh, uhm, it’s a new thing,” you said quickly, and it wasn’t even a lie. You gave a shrug of your shoulders. “I like her.”

“Yeah? What’s she been whispering into your ear, huh?” His voice was rough, his fingers gentle as they brushed along your cheek.

“She didn’t say anything, okay?”

Ben’s lips curled, clearly not believing you. “You know, I didn’t mean to… hurt her.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt those people.”

“Heard that one before,” you muttered, scoffing under your breath. You averted your eyes to the floor, the motion causing Ben’s hand to drop from your face.

“What?” There was no anger in his voice, only confusion.

You shook your head, forcing yourself to look at him. “‘Cause you’re not a bad guy, right?” you said a little louder, feeling the drops of venom like castor oil on your tongue.

And Ben picked up on it, his brows drawing together, facial muscles twitching as he tried to solve what triggered the change in mood. What happened between now and the moment you’d shared in the drawing room only a few hours ago?

You knew you were being indecisive. You knew you were being unfair. But you couldn’t let go of that feeling. That tiny, tingling thing that kept gnawing at every bit inside of you. The feeling that kept screaming at you that something was amiss. It was there – right there.

And you still couldn’t fucking grasp it.

Ben contemplated, then smacked his lips, taking a step closer to you and ironing out his brow a little. “No, I-… Well, I’m no Boy Scout, but you know me.”

Your mouth opened and closed, lips trembling. You didn’t know how to respond. He was both right and wrong. But it all sounded too fucking familiar. It was that maddening feeling of déjà vu all over again.

One long stride of bow legs, and Ben was only mere inches away from you, warm palms cupping your cheeks like you were a precious gift, rough thumbs stroking along your cheekbones, and hot breath tickling your skin like a whispered breeze in summer heat. You melted in his grasp in a matter of seconds like an ice cube on hot asphalt.

“I didn’t mean to freak you out earlier,” he said, deep voice only a low murmur against the shell of your ear as he tucked a strand of hair behind it, careful like you could break in his hold. “Just hadn’t exactly broken the news yet that you’re staying here, y’know?”

“Ben–” You sighed, trying to clear the fog from your mind with a shake of your head.

“But I did now, okay?” he cut through that first brick in your wall of defense. The tip of his nose dragged against yours, coaxing. “I want you here, alright?” His lips ghosted over yours, a faint brush, barely there but enough to make you feel the heat crawling into your lower belly. “Had kind of a rough night. Thought you could make me feel better.”

He claimed your lips with a bruising force before he’d even breathed out his last word. The scent of expensive whiskey and nicotine enveloped you and clouded your mind. He smelled like he drank a liquor store and smoked a pack, but you couldn’t resist the pull – the desire, the chemistry. Your head was floating, but doubt still kept your feet tethered to the ground.

“Ben, don’t,” you said quietly, trying to keep your voice steady, but it wavered despite your efforts. “Not like this. You’re drunk.”

“Don’t give a damn. Maybe I need to be drunk to feel something real for once. I need this. Need you,” he muttered, words slurred, voice rough.

He leaned in then, plump lips sinfully trailing down the column of your throat. The world seemed to stop spinning on its axis, your heart racing in your chest as he slid his hand to the back of your neck, tugging you closer.

For a moment, you gave in and almost let yourself go, forgetting every drop of worry and fear that plagued your mind. His hands moved to your waist, grip tightening as he pushed you flush against his blazing body. But the blinking red alarm inside of you reminded you of the lines you didn’t want to cross.

“Ben…” Your hands pushed against his chest, gentle but firm.

He stopped then, breathing ragged and confusion gleaming in the lush green of his eyes. His gaze drifted to your face, lingering there, as if searching for something he wasn’t sure he’d find. “I want you. Don’t you want me too, hm?”

The air thickened around you, sharp and overwhelming, threatening to suffocate you as you wrung for words. His thumb traced over your bottom lip, heavy against the soft, pink flesh. His pull was magnetic, his need evident.

“I don’t wanna be just another distraction for you,” you said quietly, voice shaking slightly, heart hammering in your throat. You tried to sound firm, but the way his eyes held you made your breath hitch.

Ben stepped back, hurt flashing across his freckled face like you’d just knocked the wind right out of him. His presence felt too large in the room, his emotions pressing down on you.

“A distraction?” His eyes hardened, his expression twisting with frustration and something darker. “That what you think you are? What Dottie told you? She’s been filling your head with this shit, hasn’t she?”

You flinched at the mention of Dottie’s name, not wanting to drag her into your mess. You hesitated with a thick swallow, tension creeping into your shoulders. “It’s not about her.”

“Damn right, it isn’t,” Ben huffed, shaking his head. And then, his eyes landed on the bed – on your clothes spread out, half-packed. He froze, demeanor shifting immediately, color draining from his face. “What the hell is going on here? Are you fucking leaving me?” The baritone voice was suddenly sharp now, carrying an edge that cut through the haze of his drunkenness.

“I don’t wanna cause more trouble for you,” you confessed quietly, panic rising in your chest.

“So that’s it? Just like that? You’re just gonna fucking walk out on me?” His voice was jagged with emotion, gripping a handful of his hair in disbelief.

“No, but I-… I don’t belong here, okay?” you argued, your tone laced with desperation. What else could you say?

“Dammit, you think I don’t fucking know that?” His jaw tightened, and for a heartbeat, there was an unsettling silence between you two. “Look, I don’t know what the fuck Dottie told you, but this-… this isn’t some game to me. You think I do this with everyone? That I’m using you because I’m bored? That I’m just some spoiled rich kid who gets whatever I want?” He stared at you, disappointment, incredulity, and betrayal swimming in his eyes.

You shook your head, your heart thumping painfully in your ribcage. “I didn’t say that. But Ben... I don’t know what I am to you… what this is.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” He scoffed bitterly, running a hand through the disheveled, dirty blond locks. “I’ve told you things… things I’ve never told anyone before. I’ve let you into parts of my life that I don’t show anyone else.”

“I know. I just–”

But Ben cut you off, his frustration spilling over. “I’ve been nothing but honest with you. And this is how you repay me? By fucking running away? You’re not walking out on me. Not like this.”

Your heart stuttered, the words cutting deep and tightening your chest, aware he was right in a way, knowing he’d put himself on the line for you – more than you’d ever expected him to. But you couldn’t ignore the doubts that rose inside you.

“I’m scared, okay?” you admitted, your voice only a whisper, and it made his eyes soften slightly. “I don’t know if I can trust you.”

Ben shook his head, huffing a humorless laugh, almost amused. “Oh, you think I can’t be trusted? That I haven’t given you enough reason to?” He stepped closer, his look pointed. “Kinda ironic, don’t you think? I don’t even know your real name. I don’t know a fucking thing about you, and yet, here you are, accusing me of being dishonest. You really think I’ve been fucking lying to you?"

You didn't respond. Silence.

"If you want to walk away, then go. But don’t you dare tell me you’re just a distraction. That’s insulting. I’ve been nothing but honest with you. I’ve given you everything I can, and you think I’m just trying to fuck around?”

You stood there, speechless, caught between the weight of his words and the fear that still clawed at your heart. Ben stepped closer again, his features softening just slightly, as if trying to calm the storm inside both of you. The promise of something more, something different with him, tore at the part of you that had been holding back.

“How do you know I’m the right person for you? You don’t even know what you want. And you’re right, you know? You don’t know me. Not in the way it matters. Not in the way you should,” you said, barely above a trembling whisper, the tears pricking your eyes.

“Then tell me,” he demanded, voice softer now, almost pleading. “Tell me who you are. Tell me your real name. Anything, really.”

Your breath caught in your throat, head shaking. “I can’t. I never meant to keep things from you, but I can’t tell you either. I’m sorry.”

The raw emotion in his voice made you falter, but you couldn’t let yourself be swayed. You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and for a moment, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, he could be telling the truth. That there was something worth fighting for here. The vulnerability in his green eyes made your knees weak, cracking both his armor and your walls.

Ben stared at you for a long moment, the hurt, confusion, and anger warring on his face. Then, without warning, he took a step toward you, closing the space between you two for good, and you swore you could even feel his wildly beating heart in his chest. He searched your face for something, a connection to hold onto, his hands slightly outstretched like he was reaching for you.

“Maybe it’s not meant to be.” The words stung as they left you, the first tear slipping down your cheek.

Ben’s resolve crumbled then and there. He pulled you into his embrace, softly kissing the top of your head as you sobbed into his chest. And then he just held you like this for a moment. You’d never felt fucking safer while your heart was breaking.

“Hey, look at me.” Gently, he lifted your chin, wiping your wet cheeks with his thumbs. “You think this is easy for me? You think I don’t want to change things?” He held your gaze, eyes intense as the weight of his words hung between you. “I can’t just walk away from everything, but I’m trying. I swear, I’m trying to figure this all out, but you have to let me.”

“How?” Your voice cracked, the fear of getting too close, of falling too hard threatening to crush you.

You could see it then, clear as day – he was afraid of losing you, the desperation brimming in the green seas of his eyes. You were his lifeline, the last thing that held his head above water and kept him from drowning in his father.

“I swear I’ll take you with me, wherever that it is. I’ll take care of you. I’ll fight for you. I’ll protect you. All I need is a little more time. Can you give that to me? Can you do that?”

The heaviness of a decision almost decimated you, but for the first time since you’d entered his world, the fear of losing him was stronger than the fear of staying.

You nodded, hesitantly at first before it became stronger – certain. “I’m not leaving you. I’ll stay.”

The space between you evaporated then as he closed the gap, pressing his lips to yours with a force that left you breathless. His mouth was desperate, clinging to the assurance that you were still here. Still with him.

The kiss wasn’t just a kiss – it was everything. It was apology and regret. It was yearning. It was fear.

Ben was kissing you like he never wanted to lose you again, as if each second was a prayer that you’d stay. He pulled you even closer, his hands threading through your hair, his body so tightly against yours like he was trying to make sure you were real. To make sure he hadn’t just imagined this moment.

You melted into him, your hands gripping his shirt, your heart beating faster than it had in days, weeks, months, maybe years. The kiss deepened, grew more urgent, as if he was trying to tell you everything in the language of touch, in the frantic meeting of lips and breath – everything he could never say out loud.

You felt the warmth of his skin, the blazing heat of him, and you realized you both were clinging to the fragile thread that held you together, afraid to let go.

When he pulled back, both of you panting, there was a quiet between you that spoke louder than any words ever could. His eyes searched yours, his thumb caressing your cheek, forehead resting against yours.

Ben licked his lips, still holding onto you as he shut his eyes for a beat, his chest still rising and falling with the remnants of the kiss. “Look, uhm, I hate doing this to you right now, but my father wants me to leave with him for two weeks,” he told you, voice heavy with exhaustion before a dark scoff escaped him. “Wants to show me how business is really done.”

You cupped his cheeks softly, looking up at him. “Don’t let him get to you, okay? You’re smarter than him.”

Ben’s lips twitched with a small smile, nodding like he understood. “My mother’s staying here with you, but don’t worry about it. I doubt she’ll bother you. She doesn’t really care about anything. I told them you’re a friend from school, so just go with that.”

“What school did you go to?”

“Choate. It’s in Connecticut,” Ben replied, a hint of amusement in his smile, noticing how carefully you were solidifying your alibi. “But it’s an all-boys school. You would’ve gone to Rosemary Hall.”

You grimaced. “So, total sausage fest, huh?”

Ben snorted a loud laugh, throwing his head back. “Oh, you have no idea, sweetheart.” He chuckled and pulled you against his chest, resting his chin on top of your head. “You know, sometimes I wonder what school taught you all those words.”

You giggled, burying your face into his dress shirt. “Oh, college taught me those. You would know if you’d gone.”

“Ouch.” A deep and amused laugh rumbled through his chest.

“Didn’t John Kennedy attend Choate as well?”

Ben’s head tilted slightly. You could feel the movement atop of yours. “How do you know Jack?” He inched back slightly, peering down at you with a raised look. “Something you wanna tell me, sweetheart?”

You snorted into his chest, shaking your head. “No, nothing like that, I swear. I just heard of him.”

“Oh, so it was just me you were immune to, huh?” Ben retorted, but you recognized the playfulness in his voice. It was your favorite side of him.

“Guess so,” you teased, giggling.

“Well, thank fucking God you didn’t sleep with him,” Ben muttered as he tightened his arms around you. “I hate that guy. Total fucking pussy.”

“Didn’t he graduate Harvard?” you muttered, feeling Ben’s jaw grind on top of your head. Yeah, you weren’t doing JFK any favors now.

“Well, he didn’t make it into the Army. I can tell you that much,” Ben blew right past your point, making you stifle a chuckle. “Heard he got a placement in the Navy, though.”

“Huh. Kinda sexy,” you quipped. Teasing. “He’ll probably learn a lot of sailor talk.”

Ben’s lips pursed in amusement as he looked down at you and was met with your grin. “Yeah, also probably gonna be a real sausage fest on that boat.”

You let out a crippling laugh, burying yourself in his chest as he joined you. Of course he’d only learn the things you didn’t want him to learn.

Ben’s fingers then snuck under your chin, lifting your lips to meet his. The kiss was soft, gentle – a goodbye. “You’re gonna be okay here?”

You nodded reassuringly. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be here when you come back.”

Ben didn’t say anything, but his Adam’s apple bobbed with a thick swallow, eyes gleaming with a mixture of relief and gratitude before he pressed a kiss to your forehead. It was a tender, almost reverent gesture, and it made your heart swell.

Exhaling a long breath, he let go of you and turned to leave, his shoulders slumping more with every step he took toward the life he didn’t want. He paused at the door, his hand on the knob, and for a moment, he seemed smaller, more fragile, like the weight of everything he’d been holding in was finally starting to break him.

“I’ll never stop fighting for you,” he said with conviction as he looked at you one last time, raspy voice laden with words he couldn’t say. A promise. “Never.”

And deep down, you knew then that no matter how hard things would get over the next decades, you’d never let go, either.

The door closed for the last time that night, and then, Ben was gone.

The mansion felt quieter the next morning, Ben having left with his father for DC before the break of dawn. After getting dressed properly for breakfast for once, you descended the grand staircase, your footsteps quiet on the polished wooden floors.

You spied Margaret Brooks, Ben’s mother, sitting in the sunroom, but before entering, you decided to make a quick pit stop in the kitchen, where the faint murmurs of the staff seeped through the door.

As you stepped inside, the three women were busy at their tasks. Florence was bent over a pot on the stove, her movements brisk and efficient. Dottie was humming to herself as she arranged flowers on the counter. Frances, a bit more weathered and stern, was dusting the shelves, her eyes darting disapprovingly at Dottie, who had a tendency to daydream more than work.

“Good morning, ladies,” you said softly, your voice low enough not to carry too far.

“No breakfast in the kitchen, young lady,” Florence reminded you swiftly, which you countered with a knowing smile.

“Don’t worry, Florence. I’ll be outta your hair in a minute,” you said, making Dottie snort a giggle. “Just-… Before I go in there, can you guys give me the down-low on Mrs. Brooks?”

“The down-low?” Frances cocked a brow at you.

“Yes, the details,” you corrected. Half of your vocabulary was practically useless in 1942. “What’s her deal? Why is she so… withdrawn?”

After Dottie’s revelation last night, you thought you might as well make use of the love for gossip in this house.

Florence didn’t look up from the stove, her hands moving quickly with purpose. “She’s always been quiet,” she replied, her voice neutral but not unkind. “But over the years... well, she shut herself off. Hard to blame her. Her husband isn’t a good man, not to her or to Benjamin.”

Dottie, who had been nervously twisting the flower stems in her hands, let out a little sigh. “Yeah, Mr. Brooks is awful. He treats her like she doesn’t matter. And now she’s kind of… well, I think she just gave up. You know, stopped trying.”

Frances, who had been listening intently, fixed Dottie with a sharp look. “Not everything is so simple, Dottie. Mrs. Brooks has always been a lady – always. She’s tried for years, but the man she married–” She sighed, her voice dropping. “It broke her. And now she watches the boy becoming just like him. It’s no wonder she retreats.”

You could feel the undercurrent of sadness in the house, a grief that wasn’t just tied to the past but to the present, too.

“I see,” you said quietly, your mind racing as you thought of what you could do. You glanced at the three women. “Well, I think I’ll go see if I can say hi to Mrs. Brooks this morning. She must be lonely.”

Florence gave you a distracted nod, her attention still on her cooking. Dottie shot you a hopeful look, while Frances simply grunted in acknowledgment, not sure how much help you’d be.

You sauntered into the sunroom, the air cool inside and the glass panes still thick with the chill of winter. Outside, patches of snow clung stubbornly to the ground, a few spots melting into sluggish pools. However, along the edges of the garden, the first hint of spring dared to show – croci pushing up through the soil, small and defiant against the lingering cold as they waited for the thaw.

It only reminded you of how long you’d already been here. It felt like an entirely different life at this point. Had Ben been serious last night? And what did it even all mean?

He said a lot, but you weren’t sure your head woke up any clearer this morning.

The future was an unknown, and you weren’t used to that feeling.

As you entered, Mrs. Brooks sat at the small round table by the window, her face drawn, her green eyes distant as she stared into the steam rising from her cup of tea. She didn’t seem to notice you at first, and when she finally lifted her gaze, it was with a quiet recognition.

“Good morning, Mrs. Brooks,” you said, smiling softly. “I’m not sure if your son has mentioned me. I’m a friend from school. Benjamin’s been kind enough to let me stay here for a while.”

“Oh, I believe he mentioned something like that, yes,” she said in a soft, tired voice, her lips curling just slightly at the corners. “You’ll have to excuse me. I wasn’t listening to everything last night. I was quite exhausted after the long travel, and that boy never knows when to stop.”

“Yes, I know what you mean. Ben does have a way of going on, doesn’t he?” You smiled gently at her words and sat down across from her. “Ben did tell me a little bit about all your wonderful tea parties, though. He said you liked going to tea rooms as well. What are they like? I have to admit I’ve never been to one myself.”

At the mere mention, Mrs. Brooks’ posture seemed to shift ever so slightly. Her eyes sparkled, and you saw something like life stir behind them, as if your words had opened a door she hadn’t realized was there.

“Oh, tea rooms,” she repeated, her voice soft and reflective. “I used to love them. So charming. So civilized, you know? A proper place to spend the afternoon with a good cup of tea. I haven’t been to one in ages, not since...”

She trailed off, her gaze becoming distant again, but then something changed – her eyes brightened just a little, like a light flickering on.

“You’ve never been?” she asked, her tone a mixture of surprise and mild disbelief. You shook your head. “Oh, my dear, it’s almost a must for a young lady to experience. A proper tea room, with all the delicate china and the soft music in the background – it’s simply marvelous.” She sat up straighter in her chair then, the flicker of a genuine smile appearing on her lips. “I should take you, shouldn’t I? There’s one in the city I adored. It’s been years since I’ve gone, but I’m sure it’s just as lovely as it was. Would you like to go? This afternoon, perhaps?”

You couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope inside of you, seeing that flicker of light in her. “I’d love that. Thank you, Mrs. Brooks,” you said with a warm smile.

“How wonderful! Then it’s settled. We’ll go!” She clasped her hands together with joy. “Do you have something to wear? I could call my seamstress, Ms. Vivian, for you.”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary. Benjamin already did that,” you replied, hoping for dear life you didn’t have to endure another makeover. You were already sacrificing yourself like a lamb for slaughter by agreeing to this.

“Well, good.” She nodded and sipped on her tea, muttering, “Seems like I’ve done something right with that boy, after all…”

Well, judging by that statement, you were surely in for an interesting afternoon.

The soft tinkling of porcelain cups and quiet chatter filled the air of the elegant, well-lit tea room as Margaret Brooks looked across the table at you, her plump lips curling into a rare smile. She had almost forgotten how much she enjoyed these outings – the delicate atmosphere of the tea room, the soft hum of conversation. She had imagined, for so many years, that one day she would have a daughter to share these moments with.

Unfortunately, that hadn’t come to pass.

Instead, you sat across from her, eager eyes wide as you took in the ambiance. Mrs. Brooks noticed the nervousness in your posture, the way you clutched your teacup a little too tightly and stared at the other girls, feeling utterly out of place.

“Isn’t it charming?” Mrs. Brooks said, her voice light, almost affectionate. “I’ve been coming here for years. There’s something about the smell of the Earl Grey and the clink of silver spoons that makes you forget the world outside. You’ll grow to love it, I’m sure.”

You gave a nervous nod, your lips curving upward in an awkward imitation of a smile. “I’m not really used to places like this.”

You hesitated, glancing around the room at the white-gloved waitstaff and the carefully arranged plates of scones and finger sandwiches, wondering how many distractions Ben had found here and hoping you wouldn’t run into any of them. You could certainly feel the occasional looks and quiet whispers directed at you.

Mrs. Brooks chuckled softly, her gaze warm as she met your eyes. “One gets used to it. It's like breathing. I’ve been doing this for years, and there's nothing wrong with forgetting the world in here, just for a moment.” She leaned in slightly, her tone dropping conspiratorially. “Don’t be nervous, Cindy. It’s only tea and gossip, and we all need a little of both.”

Something in Mrs. Brooks’ tone calmed you slightly. It was as though she was slowly pulling you into her orbit – offering more than just a tea outing, but a sense of belonging, of understanding.

“Look over there,” Mrs. Brooks continued, gesturing subtly with her gloved hand, clearly eager to share more. “Do you see that woman sitting by the window? That’s Mrs. Berwick. She’s very fond of trying to climb the social ladder, always inserting herself into the right circles. Her husband’s a banker, but don’t let that fool you – he’s a dreadful bore."

You snorted a laugh and leaned in, intrigued despite yourself. You couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. Mrs. Brooks had a certain warmth now that softened her more formal edges.

“And there,” she carried on, “that’s Mrs. Hadley. She’s got more money than God, but she’s also got a tongue that can cut glass. No one dares to cross her, but I’ve never cared much for her. She’s the type who never forgets a slight.”

“Seems like they all have their… quirks,” you noted, amused, remembering Dottie’s words.

“Quirks,” Mrs. Brooks repeated with a smile. “Yes, one might call them that.” Her eyes twinkled as she leaned in closer to you, lowering her voice. “But there’s one thing they all have in common: They love to gossip. It’s their favorite pastime. And I’m sure,” she added, giving you a knowing look, “they’ll be more than eager to talk about you.” You stiffened, but Mrs. Brooks, oblivious to your discomfort, sipped her tea and continued. “Don’t mind them. They’re all still talking about Benjamin, I’m sure. The whole lot of them think they have some sort of claim on him. But they don’t, do they?”

At her little wink, your heart almost dropped to the sparkling marble floor. Did she know? But you figured it was easy to suspect if she knew her son even a little.

“Well, if it isn’t Mrs. Brooks! I haven’t seen you here in ages.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you recognized the familiar voice. You’d heard it once before, even if it had been louder and more upset than now.

Grace.

Mrs. Brooks’ expression flickered momentarily before settling into something more controlled. “Grace, dear,” she said with a polite smile, turning her head toward the speaker. Her tone was cool, masking any warmth. “You’re looking well.”

Your stomach dropped when you saw the woman standing at the table: tall, blonde, impeccably dressed in a way that screamed money and status – poised and perfect. By now, you’d heard plenty about Ben’s destined fiancée, but seeing her in person was another matter.

Her blonde hair was sculpted into a flawless wave. She wore an elegant dress with the subtle sheen of luxury and a sharp gaze that seemed to take in every detail of you with calculating precision.

Grace gave a sly smile, icy blue eyes flickering to you. “I couldn’t resist coming by. I simply had to see Benjamin’s current project.” She tilted her head slightly, a deliberate gesture, and leaned down to examine you like you were a specimen under a microscope. “Interesting choice.”

Did that bitch just call you a fucking project?!

You didn’t flinch under her scrutiny, however. You’d been dealing with bitches like that your whole life. The only tragedy about this was that you couldn’t rant about her to your friends – the hot blonde, the gay redhead, and the mute Asian chick.

Fuck. Why the hell couldn’t you remember their names? You swore they were on the tip of your tongue. Was it Andy, Mabel, and Kim? No, that sounded wrong. Dammit!

“I think I’ve seen you before, right? And you are?” Grace asked, her voice dripping with feigned sweetness as she looked at you.

“Cindy,” you replied with a slight edge.

“Ah, Cindy,” Grace repeated, like she was tasting the name. “Such a... simple name. How quaint.” She smiled then, a thin, shark-like smirk, and you were blood in the water. “I must say, I’m surprised to see you out and about. Benjamin has always been so... difficult to predict. But I suppose you already know that, don’t you?”

Unbothered by her baiting, you took a casual sip of tea. “Oh, I know exactly who he is, Grace. Better than you.”

Grace’s smile tightened. “How refreshing,” she said, then looked over at Mrs. Brooks. “I do hope Benjamin’s settled down by now. I hear he’s been a bit of a... free spirit lately. He always had a rebellious streak. He gets bored rather quickly.”

Mrs. Brooks stiffened slightly, but she recovered quickly, placing her teacup down with a slight clink. “My son is a grown man, dear. He’ll make his own decisions, as he always does.”

“Of course,” Grace replied smoothly, though there was a clear, sharp edge to her words.

“‘Sides, aren’t you a bit of a free spirit as well?” you quipped with an innocent smirk. “I heard about you and Jack Kennedy in Cape Cod. How’s that going?”

“Oh, you are seeing Jack?” Margaret chimed in with delight, but you could tell her smile was as taunting as yours was.

Grace’s face fell abruptly. “Yes, it’s… going,” she replied quickly, subtly clearing her throat. Her eyes narrowed slightly, her lips twisting into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes as she leaned in, her tone almost too sweet. “I imagine you must be enjoying the novelty of being with someone like Benjamin. Here you are, in the lap of luxury. It’s a bit of a thrill, isn’t it, darling? But you know, I should warn you – Ben isn’t exactly the most reliable partner. I do hope, for your sake, you’re not just a phase.”

You were about to slap her harder than she’d slapped Ben at that diner. Would it matter to history if you choked her right now?

You forced a tight-lipped smile as you ground your teeth. “Thank you for the warning, but I’m not here to judge him for his past.”

If anything, you were judging him for his future.

Jesus fucking Christ, why did he always have to date the biggest bitch in the room? And you’d once thought Crimson Countess was a piece of work.

But you grew up in a trailer park in fucking Jersey. If a girl like Grace thought she could scare you off with a few words, she had another thing coming.

“You think you know everything, don’t you?” You looked at her challengingly, not an ounce of fear in your voice. “Here’s the thing – Ben’s not a puppet for his father. He makes his own choices. You’re not his future, Grace. You’re the past. Trust me on that one.”

Grace’s eyes blazed with a venomous glare. “Well, we’ll see how long this lasts, darling. I do hope you won’t make a fool out of yourself.”

You were about to open your mouth again before Mrs. Brooks cut in, her tone suddenly sharp, a protective edge in her voice. “Enough, Grace. We all know about Benjamin’s history. You’ve made your point, and it’s getting tiresome.”

Grace’s eyes fixed on Ben’s mother, a muscle twitching in her jaw. She clearly hadn’t expected that. “Well, it’s so lovely to see you two getting along. I mustn’t take up too much of your time, Mrs. Brooks. It was nice running into you both. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon.”

With that, Grace stormed off, her heels clicking on the sparkling marble. You exhaled a slow breath, slumping back into your chair. But as you glanced at Mrs. Brooks, you saw the faintest glimmer of approval in her eyes.

“You handled her beautifully, dear,” Ben’s mother said, her tone soft but genuine. “Don’t let women like her make you question yourself. They thrive on making others doubt their worth, but you’ve got something she doesn’t – confidence and a damn backbone.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Brooks,” you said, your heart swelling with gratitude. “That woman really knows how to lay it on thick, doesn’t she?”

Mrs. Brooks rolled her eyes in exhaustion. “She’s always been like that. Charming when it suits her and venomous when she feels threatened. I’m almost glad Benjamin’s been so awful to her. God knows I couldn’t have endured another dinner with that girl in my house.”

You snorted under your breath, chuckling.

“You know, I was just like you when I first arrived here – someone who didn’t quite fit in.” Margaret leaned back in her chair with a faint smile, the faraway look in her eyes sharpening, a subtle sadness creeping into her voice. “Before I met Benjamin’s father, I came from humble beginnings, you know? My parents were good, hardworking people. We didn’t have much money – just a small house in the lower part of town. My father was a carpenter, working long hours, and my mother would sew clothes for other people, often staying up well past midnight, just to make sure we had enough to get by. But there was a beauty in that simplicity. I used to take walks through the alleys, admiring the flowers growing between the cracks in the sidewalks. We didn't have wealth, but we had love, you know? And we had each other.”

You listened intently, your heart breaking a bit for her, knowing that wasn’t what she had now with her own family.

“I remember,” she continued, a slight smile tugging at her lips, “how we’d all gather in the kitchen at night. It was small, but it was ours. My mother would hum while she worked, and my father would tell me stories about how he built his first house with his own two hands. He was proud of that. And I was proud of him.”

You couldn’t help but notice the way Mrs. Brooks’ voice softened when she spoke about her parents. There was a sadness there, a longing for something simple and real that had been lost somewhere along the way.

“I can’t imagine you like that. It sounds so different from who you are now,” you said softly.

Your brow furrowed. “But it wasn’t?”

Mrs. Brooks shook her head slowly, the distant melancholy returning to her features. “At first, it was. But over time, I realized something. The life Richard offered me was a gilded cage. It wasn’t freedom – it was control. I was expected to fit in, to play the part. When I married him, I entered a world where every inch of my life was dictated by money, status, and image. It’s strange how quickly you can forget yourself when you're surrounded by wealth. People like this–,” she gestured with a faint nod around the room, “–don’t care about character. They care about who you know, where you’ve been, and what you wear. And even then, it’s never enough. You always have to be more.” She leaned forward then, her expression softening as she saw you swallowing thickly. “I know it sounds harsh, dear, but it’s the truth. High society is an illusion. People want you to smile, to wear the right clothes, to speak in a certain way, but it’s all just a performance. Your soul gets lost in it.”

“So, you never wanted this life?” you asked quietly, your heart breaking for her.

“I didn’t know what I was getting into. These women here, they’re not your friends,” she replied, her fingers curling around her tea cup. “They’re rivals. Each one of them trying to prove they are the best at being the most perfect version of a woman they can be. It’s exhausting. And no matter how hard I tried, I never truly fit in.”

“You said Benjamin was different when he was young,” you said gently, wanting to know more. “How was he before everything changed?”

Mrs. Brooks’ eyes softened, and for a moment, you could see the mother she had been – a woman who adored her son, who once had hope for his future.

“Benjamin was always sensitive,” Mrs. Brooks said, her voice full of tenderness. “He was a sweet little boy who loved to ask questions about the world. He was curious about everything. He’d sit with me for hours, just asking me how things worked, why things were the way they were. And he had this soft smile that would light up a room. I’ll never forget how he used to look at me, with such trust in his eyes. He would bring me flowers and tell me stories from his little world, and I would see the softness in him, the kind of softness a mother always hopes for in a child. People always said he was a ‘dreamer,’ and I thought he would always stay that way. I loved that about him. But Richard didn’t. Richard thought it was a weakness.”

Mrs. Brooks’ voice cracked slightly, as if the memories were too painful to recount. She looked down at her cup.

“Richard did everything he could to ‘toughen him up.’ He took him hunting, made him go to boarding school at an early age, sending him far away from me,” she continued, her voice drowning in sadness. “He wanted to shape Benjamin into something he could control. He had a vision for his son – one where Benjamin was a carbon copy of him. Strong. Cold. Ruthless. My husband’s world is one of steel, and his love is just as hard. My sweet boy never stood a chance.”

Your heart sank. “And Ben – he didn’t want that?”

“No,” Mrs. Brooks said, a slight bitterness creeping into her tone. “Benjamin didn’t want any of it. But he was young, and he couldn’t fight his father. So slowly, he started to change. He stopped asking questions. He stopped dreaming. And one by one, the things that made him unique faded away. I watched my son slip away from me, and there was nothing I could do about it.”

You wanted to reach out to comfort her, but you felt helpless. How could you fix this? Could you fix him?

“I’m so sorry,” you said softly. “I had no idea.”

Mrs. Brooks gave you a wistful smile. “It’s not your fault, dear. You’re not here to save him. You can’t save him, not from himself. But you might be able to remind him of who he was before the world changed him. I think that’s why I like you so much.”

Your heart tightened as you listened. You could see the sadness in Mrs. Brooks’ eyes, a depth of loss that you hadn’t expected.

Ben’s mother let out a sigh, soft and weary, as though she had been holding it in for too long. “You know, from the moment I met you, there was something about you. Something I never had the chance to share with Benjamin.” She paused, gathering her thoughts as if she hadn’t shared this kind of honesty in years. “I’ve always wanted a daughter for many reasons, you see? I dreamed of having someone who could see this world as I see it. A confidante. You remind me a lot of myself when I was younger. You have a fire in you – a light. And I don’t want my son to put it out.”

Your heart halted its beats abruptly. You were taken aback by her blunt honesty, shaking your buzzing head lightly, trying to make sense of her words. “What d’you mean?”

“You don’t know what your getting into, either. You’re not like them. You’re not meant for this kind of life. That’s why I want to warn you, dear,” she said, her gaze sharp.

Oh no, not another warning… How many was that now? Three? Four, if you counted Grace?

Great.

“Benjamin might love you now, but he’ll be just like his father in the end. Cold. Hard. Empty,” she said harshly, the weight of regret in every line of her expression. “The man you think he is, may not be the man he turns out to be. Benjamin isn’t the boy I once held in my arms anymore. He’s not the man you think he is. I see his father in him more every day. I can see it in the way he looks at the world, in the way he reacts to the people around him. I don’t want you to end up like me. You’ll be the one left behind. Trust me.”

You felt a knot in your throat, your heart pounding with an ominous sound like an ancient war drum. You didn’t know how to respond. Your thoughts spiraled in every direction.

You swallowed hard, tears pricking your eyes like salt in a wound. “I don’t know if I can walk away. I think I love him,” you confessed quietly, barely audible over the chatter of the tea room.

The words shocked you. You’d never said them out loud before, but they didn’t seem to rattle his mother at all.

▶️ Chapter 7: Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My! – MAY 9

Ooof, looks like not even Ben's mother has much confidence in him... What did you think of all the warnings? And if Ben was already this upset now, then well, imagine what he feels like when it really happens. Choo-choo, all aboard the angst train! Get ready to meet the man of the hour next week 😉

(Fair warning: Chapters never really got any shorter. I don't know what to tell ya, but half of the next one is smut, so there's that 😂🤷‍♀️)

Coming Up:

“I remember you mentioned a girl from school staying here.” The patriarch of the steel empire carved into his roast with casual violence, sipping his wine like it was penance, a pair of almond-shaped, glacier blue eyes zeroing in on his son. “Didn’t think you meant still staying here.”

You managed a polite smile. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mr. Brooks.”

He gave a short nod that might’ve been a grunt, reaching for the wine glass before saying, “Likewise.”

Ben’s mother – composed in a deep jade green dress that complimented the glint in her eye – broke the tension with a dry, almost teasing, “She’s been keeping me company. And sane.”

You glanced at her in grateful surprise, but she didn’t look at you. Her gaze was squarely on her husband, almost daring him to challenge her.

Oh fuck. You had a feeling that dinner would derail soon enough. You still remembered how your own mother always looked when she wanted to pick a fight with your father. You could see that same desire in Mrs. Brooks tonight.

Richard’s eyes flicked to you as cutting as a scalpel. “Rosemary Hall, was it?”

You smiled, knowing your alibi by heart. “Yes, sir. We, uh, crossed paths with Ben’s group at Choate once or twice. We’ve stayed in touch.”

“Mmm.” He sounded unconvinced, like he already had a list of questions and was working through them in his mind. “And what is it you do, exactly?”

You gave an innocent shrug of your shoulders. “A little of everything. Read a lot. Try to keep busy.”

Mr. Brooks leaned back with a hum, wine glass in hand. “You read. Anything useful?”

Ben’s hand tensed slightly on the table. You felt it even without looking.

🚀 Read up to 4 chapters ahead on Patreon now

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fafodill · 2 days ago

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How was the date?

It was fine! I took some time to unpack it. 📦📦📦

Pros: we talked for 4 hours and it was quite pleasant and easy. Tall, very pretty hands, quite funny. He's a weeb (let me tell you guys I almost laughed out loud when he told me he liked dark fantasy/castelvania and that one of his favorite animal was the snake). Also I'm lacking people in my life to go out and have drinks and he is an ex-party guy who calmed down, so this could be nice. Also I do suspect him to be on the spectrum as well (not only did he express his suspicion but he totally SAT in neurodivergent ways, you know the ones).

Cons: he was very lanky and had very loose clothes (I get that finding clothes that suit your body isn't always easy but we like a fitted king here)(it gave a bit 'I'm a man who hasn't discovered that fashion was also for me yet') and I hate to admit that the face card was not doing it for me - which is the most damming thing.

This being said, we agreed on seeing each other again next week. I laid out very openly that dating and men aren't at the center of my life and that I like to take my time to be sure I really want this and not engage just because I feel forced to follow unconscious patriarchal rules. He as chill with it (he better) so that's a plus.

I'm a bit torn honestly. But that gave me food for thoughts about my current stance on relationships (read: I talked aloud to my cat for a good 30 minutes as he was looking at me, seemingly very invested). Which is another story I'm open to share but I'll end it here since you only asked about the date.

TLDR: it was nice but I'm indecisive. Letting it simmer.

#personal life #anon ask #ask answered #dating

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bloomeng · 10 months ago

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Kory doodles (aka practicing how I wanna draw her)

#one thing about me is that I will always be indecisive #dc #dc comics #starfire #teen titans starfire #teen titans #koriand'r #kory anders #my art

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todayisafridaynight · 10 months ago

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#rgg #ryu ga gotoku #yakuza series #ryu ga gotoku 7 #yakuza like a dragon #yakuza 7 #ichiban kasuga #masato arakawa #ryo aoki #snap sketches #edit: two versions cause im indecisive about everything ever #this one goes out to anon ..... hi ....#Truly ask really did just. make me wanna draw em LMAO #idk why i decided they should get takoyaki afterwards but idk. best thing to do before you go to jail vjaLRKVKE #tbh i just know that whenever i was upset my sis would take me out to get food #it wasnt often since shes not home much but on the off chance she caught me on a bad day we'd always get ice cream or somn #ironically my sister's coming home from a trip later today and my sister's always been my best friend tbh so. funny timin for this doodle #i wont go on a mile long tangent like i usually do so ill just say my sister's really cool and important to me and i cant wait to see her #def why y7 hits hard for me ..... the FAMILY bro ........ beating aoki with a metal pipe as we speak #nuff of that tho. for now i sleep for ten seconds bye everyone

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chewyhanniebug · 24 days ago

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finally remembered to update my strawpage and carrd *checks watch* 9 days after my birthday. oops

#this is your sign to check them out if you haven't already !! pretty important info in there but i know a lot of people don't look anymore #i considered giving them a full overhaul but just making these changes took ages for my indecisive ass #my favourite colour isn't purple surprisingly #i don't really know how to feel about the gifs with the colours but i wanted to use ones i've made #maybe i'll do a full change up one day #don't be afraid to send me things through strawpage too !! it's always fun hehe #chewy ramblings

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rexscanonwife · 1 year ago

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I'm crying and throwing up and asking where my phone is

#jane journals #self insert talk #crush: 🗡#UOOOOORRGGHGHHHH ITS SO JOVER #ive been talking to laura about it and reading up more about what happens and stuff with wyll and the story in general #and ofc i watched my friend play a bit last night who graciously went almost straight to wyll for me #AND FUCKING I DIDNT MENTION BEFORE #WHEN U FIRST INTERACT WITH HIM PROPERLY HES TEACHING A TIEFLING CHILD TO FIGHT #and hes soooooooo sweet about it 😭😭😭💖💖💖#you guys know my weakness is kids and how characters interact with them and wyll canonically wants them one day #so you know IM FUCKED #and hes so!! UGH CUTE 💖💖💖💖#hes always saying these poetic romantic things and he wants a proper old fashioned romance with the wooing and the courting #he calls his lover his LIGHT LIKE CMON MANNNN #IM TRYING TO LIVE #tbh the only thing stopping me aside from not having the game is deciding what species to be #my indecisive ass #thats another thing i was talking to laura about and she suggested making a backstory first/choosing a class and all that THEN deciding #im probably gonna go with my default which would be a rogue which is pretty atypical for my s/is but its what i lean toward in dnd #or idk maybe i SHOULD go more out of my comfort zone 🤔🤔 idk ill keep thinking about it #but for wyll's kiss animations WHEN THE PLAYER IS A HALFLING OR SMTH SHORT HE KNEELS DOWN TO KISS THEM UGGGHH 😫😫😫💖💘💖💘💖💘💖💘💖💘

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byanyan · 2 years ago

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took a page out of moon's book and started playing around with the idea of illustrated icons but i am Unsure

#actually tbh i considered using the webtoon for icons way back at the beginning of this blog #the only thing that stopped me...... was the short hair #it's still the main thing making me hesitate tbh #but lbr nothing's ever gonna suit perfectly for an oc #even my irl icons aren't Perfect for byan and never will be bc their perfect look exists only in my head #but the vibes here are decent now that i finally went to the trouble of digging up a pdf of the full comic and started scrolling through it #(bc i'm a fake fan who has never actually read it oops)#also it's literally animated jk like it can't get more ideal than this right #AND LIKE. it's always felt a little off to me to throw my irl icons onto threads w my mutuals who only have animated icons/fcs #i don't mind it THAT much but similar media makes things a little less jarring to look at #IDK idk i'm finishing up a reply to one such thread so i might take the opportunity to test the idea out idk #could play around with the colour palette too and make it more pink or smth 🤔#that could help add a little more of the right energy too maybe hmmm #anyway i'm rambling yes i'm thinking about it too much shush #if u read through all this ilu pls feel free to share ur opinion w me bc i'm Indecisive™️#━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ ooc ⋮ don't @ me.

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iero · 2 years ago

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What's your favourite FOB lyric? It doesn't necessarily have to be from your favourite overall song, just a line that has just tattooed itself on your heart in some way?

I hate to be that person, but I literally don't even have an overall, like, number one favorite FOB lyric favorite because there is SOO many for me. I want an FOB tattoo so bad, but I know I would be fighting over what to get/what lyric to choose. Pete is just an incredible lyricist to me. My current favorite is probably "The stars are the same as ever, but I don't have the guts to keep it together." from Stardust though if that counts for anything?

Thank you anyway! :)

#answered #raichukaiju #If I got every FOB lyric I loved tattooed on me I would literally be covered.#Which is not a bad thing but I'm incredibly indecisive and the lyrics will always be one of my favorite things about FOB.

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smile-files · 2 years ago

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i think one of the most fun things about having goody gardens is that it lets me not worry about being fully cohesive... like if i want to wear more comfy, flannely, corduroy-y things? that's worrywart! if i want to wear brighter, happier, more childlike things? that's sunshine lollipop! etc. and also this way i have an excuse to have like... 7 fursonas at once. if i so desired. it's all about self-expression!! whee!!!

#melonposting #i mean it's kind of silly but this is the only way i can really go about this sort of thing #because one part of me is saying: it doesn't have to make sense! just have fun! embrace the whimsical fantastical child in you!!!#but then another part of me is saying: but it has to have logic! it has to make sense! i have so many questions!!#i.e. autism vs autism haha #but anyway these folks being explicitly parts of my imagination/mind/conscience/psyche makes it easier to suspend my disbelief #like these are imaginary friends. they don't really exist. they can be whatever i want!!#and so there's some logic there that my brain can wrap around #(there's four-eyes getting all picky! haha!!)#also it just helps in justifying how complex i am (i mean i am a person after all! i'm always going to be complex!!)#because of course that part of my brain wants to find some method to the madness #it's compartmentalizing!! that's really what it is!!!#anyway this is just an excuse for me to continue to be indecisive about a fursona species haha #i'd imagine magic can turn his neighbors into different things #so he can make them into corresponding fursonas and objectsonas!!! it all makes sense!!!!!!!!!#but i feel like each of them would also by default be able to turn into a different butterfly or moth :D #like as a natural sort of thing for them. without magic's help #i am full of butterflies!!!!!! whee #sorry for rambling i just really what goody gardens has done for me :)

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plutotheplum · 7 months ago

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leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: you’ve decided to get intimate for the first time with your boyfriend, and who better to ask for advice than his best friend?

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, kissing, oral sex, vaginal fingering, masturbation, p in v, possessive sex, praise kink, cheating/infidelity

wc: 4.4k

a/n: i don't support cheating at all, this idea just would not leave me so erm... i just had to write it

also on ao3!

You might be a little in over your head.

Sure, the entire thing had been your idea, but now that you’re standing outside of Leon’s apartment, duffle bag clutched in hand, you think you might’ve made the wrong decision.

But… you did really like your boyfriend.

It was why you were doing all of this after all. You wanted the first time with your new boyfriend to be perfect, especially after your last relationship had practically turned out to be a disaster. The sex hadn’t been enjoyable and the heated conversations between you and your ex even more so.

So, who better to ask for advice than your boyfriend’s best friend?

Eyes squeezing shut, you mutter a few words of self-encouragement. The doorbell looks oddly ominous when you open your eyes again.

You weren’t even sure why Leon had agreed to this entire thing. He’d always just been there, barely acknowledging your presence at all. All in all, you were convinced Leon hated you. It didn’t matter though, you didn’t particularly like the man either. Leon was just an unfortunate addition to things you had to endure.

An irritated huff of air leaves you and your hand jerks out, your own body having grown tired of your indecisiveness. The doorbell rings promptly and you shift on your feet, biting your lip nervously.

When the door creaks open, you have half the mind to run away. Leon’s gaze keeps you pinned in place however, his bored eyes dipping over you, brows raising slightly when he sees the duffle bag you were holding.

“You were serious about this, huh?” Leon asks, crossing his arms over his chest, peering down at you.

“Uh- well,” you begin, tongue feeling heavy, “I- I can just leave,” you laugh awkwardly, “you’re probably busy and I don’t want to bother you and-”

“Stop rambling,” he interrupts, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice, “just get inside.”

You’re grateful for his timely intervention, nodding rapidly and stepping inside. Taking off your shoes, you place them by the door neatly, not wanting to annoy Leon even more. He motions with his fingers and you follow him in, letting him guide you into his bedroom.

“What’s the bag for?”

“Oh, I packed a couple of outfits,” you shrug, watching as he sits down on his chair, “thought you might be able to tell me which one would work the best.”

Leon stares at you blankly, his lips pursing.

“You’re fucking weird.”

A sharp scoff leaves you, your eyes narrowing as you glare at the man in front of you. “You agreed to help me!”

“I didn’t think you were being serious,” Leon retorts.

You glare at him a little more and he lets out an exasperated sigh, motioning for you to sit down on the edge of his bed. You do as he says, although your movements are begrudging, feeling miffed.

“So?” He asks, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest, “what do you want to know?”

“Se- sex stuff,” you reply casually, although your posture betrays you. It’s difficult to feel comfortable around Leon, his gaze uncomfortably intense and probing. You don’t think you’ve ever sat with your back this straight for so long before.

“Watching porn would’ve solved that problem for you,” Leon says drily.

“You’re a real asshole, Leon.”

He rolls his eyes at your jab, slouching a little further in his chair, thighs spreading as he gets comfortable. Leon’s fingers tap against the arm-rest, seemingly lost in thought. You couldn’t feel anymore awkward, agitatedly playing with your fingers in your lap.

“Can’t you just tell me what he likes?” you blurt out, growing desperate, “you guys talk about that stuff, don’t you?”

“I don’t understand what the big deal is,” Leon says, leaning forward, his forearms resting on his knees. “Just do what feels natural. Sex isn’t supposed to be something you spend weeks worrying about.”

It’s surprisingly solid advice…but Leon could’ve told you all of this over text. You cross your arms over your chest, pouting slightly.

“But what if he doesn’t like it?” you mumble, averting your gaze.

“Then he’ll tell you,” he says, hands clasping together. Leon gives you another once-over, tilting his head. “Go get changed, let’s see those outfits.”

You nod, tugging your bag into his bathroom and pull on your first outfit. It’s a pretty dress, flowy and a little short, but you’d figured it’d be a good pick.

“What do you think?”

Leon’s eyes flick up to meet yours, silently evaluating the dress. His brows furrow for a moment, something imperceptible passing through his eyes before he shakes his head. A sigh escapes you, but you disappear back into his bathroom obediently to pull on your next outfit.

Leon doesn’t like that one. He doesn’t like the one after either. Your patience is running thin by the time you’ve changed into your fourth outfit, a nice top and skirt. You tuck your hair behind your ears, staring at yourself in the mirror. You look cute, at least from your perspective. You don’t understand what he finds so unappealing about your sense of style. Leon’s eyes barely drift over you before he’s shaking his head again.

“Pass,” Leon drawls, looking bored out of his mind as he slouches in his chair. Irritation festers inside of you, teeth gritting together as Leon simply ignores you, scrolling through his phone.

“This is cute!” you protest, looking down at the outfit you put together, “I look cute!”

“If that makes you feel better, then keep telling yourself that,” he replies, not sparing you a second glance.

“You’re the worst!” you snap, stomping back into the bathroom.

Your temper gets the best of you when you scrutinize your irritated reflection, cheeks flushed with anger, the stress of being here with Leon bubbling past your own breaking point. You tug your top off, along with your bra, bathroom door slamming open as you move to stand in front of him, hands on your hips.

“How about now, asshole?”

Leon’s eyes widen when he sees your bare chest, surprise making his grip on his phone falter, the device falling towards the carpeted floor as he stares at your tits. His jaw seems to go slack, a sharp breath of air getting sucked in as he stares for a bit longer. You glare at him, chest rising and falling, watching as his gaze dips over the curve of your waist.

“They’re just tits,” he says nonchalantly.

Leon’s expressions betray his true emotions, however. You catch the bob of his throat as he swallows, the subtle clench of his jaw as he stares at your tits. Your eyes dip down between his thighs and a small smile spreads across your face when you spot the bulge forming in his shorts.

“Do you like ‘em?” you ask, tilting your head.

“What?” Leon sputters, his cheeks flushing lightly.

“Do you like ‘em?” you repeat, taking a step closer, “my tits, Leon.”

He swallows again, trying and failing to look away from your tits. “They’re fine,” he manages out after a moment, “normal, or whatever.”

That makes a frown pull at your lips. Your head tips down, taking in your own breasts. They weren’t anything special, but you thought they looked nice, at least. Embarrassment has your skin crawling, cheeks heating up when you realize how stupidly you’ve been acting.

You move to turn on your heel, but Leon stops you, his hand curling around your wrist. He tugs you forward, your feet stumbling slightly as he pulls you until you're standing between his spread legs.

“Maybe I should feel them,” Leon offers, peering up at you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, “might- might help me judge a bit better.”

Surprise flits across your face, heat shooting through your body. You really shouldn’t let him do this, you shouldn’t even have your tits out in the first place but when Leon’s hand lands on your waist, all rational thought seems to leave you.

“Okay,” you whisper, “you can touch.”

Both of Leon’s hands are on your waist now, sliding upwards. You bite your lip to stifle a whine, back arching to push your chest into his touch when his thumbs brush the underside of your breasts.

Leon lets out a low hum, stroking his thumb over the same place again, staring intently at your hardened nipples. His fingers reach for them, pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger as he tugs lightly before letting go, watching as your breasts move at the sensation.

“Gonna let me taste ‘em too?,” he asks, pinching your nipples again before rubbing his thumbs over your areolas.

“T- taste?” you echo, feeling your breath catch in your throat when Leon leans forward, his touch growing greedier as he grasps at your tits, squeezing the fat roughly. Your legs shake slightly, little twitches running up through your body and Leon notices, pulling you closer, his hands on the backs of your thighs as he helps you climb up onto his lap.

You can feel how hard he is when your cunt presses up against his clothed cock, a low whine slipping out of you at the feeling. Leon grins, squeezing your breasts a few more times, seemingly taken with tugging your nipples and watching your breasts bounce back into place.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, “just let me put my mouth on you, hm?”

A single nod leaves you and Leon takes it as permission to kiss the space between your breasts. He’s surprisingly gentle with you, peppering soft kisses around your breast and over your nipples. Leon’s tongue lolls out before long, a groan emanating from him as he pulls you flush against him, his hips bucking up into your clothed cunt.

You gasp, fingers settling in his hair, pulling his head closer. Leon’s mouth opens wider, sucking your tit into his mouth, tongue flicking across your nipple harshly as he silently urges your hips to move against him. You do as he wants, grinding against his lap, mewling when he sinks his teeth into the fat of your tit. He switches his attention to your other tit, sucking it into his mouth, pressing his hand into your back to make your chest jut out so that he can get more of you into his mouth.

“Do oh- do you like my tits now, Leon?” you ask breathily.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck, yeah,” he mumbles out drunkenly, “love your tits, baby.”

A light flush covers your cheeks when Leon pulls away, both of your chests rising and falling. He stares up at you, perched on his lap prettily, his hands squeezing at your waist soothingly. Your hazy eyes dip down to his lips, fingers tightening into his shirt as you imagine his lips on yours.

That would make everything all the more real however, so you refrain, simply peering down at him. Leon can see the uncertainty that makes you squirm, the flash of guilt that seems to dim down the spark in your eyes. He doesn’t exactly like the situation either, what the two of you are doing, but when your lower lip juts out into a cute, little pout, Leon wonders what might’ve been if he’d gotten to you first.

“We should stop,” he says after a while, fingers tapping the sides of your thighs.

“Yeah,” you murmur, humiliation flitting across your face, “we should.”

Leon helps you get off his lap, smoothing his hand over the ruffles in your skirt. It’s a weirdly considerate action and too out of place for him. You disappear into the bathroom, pulling your top back on. Leon waits for you, his eyes dipping to the bulge in his shorts. It’s uncomfortable, his half-hard cock straining against the fabric of his boxers.

A heavy sigh leaves him, his hand reaching down to adjust himself before you come out.

“Thank you for letting me come over,” you mumble as he walks you over to his door.

“Don’t mention it,” Leon murmurs, his voice low.

Don’t mention it. You know deep down you won’t be mentioning anything to your boyfriend.

You go to open the door, but before you can, Leon’s stepping up behind you, his chest pressing into your back as he cages you in against the door. A soft whine spills out of you when he wraps his arms around your waist, his face pressing into the crook of your neck.

“You’re making things difficult,” he says, voice muffled with how closely he’s pressed his face into your neck.

“I- I’m leaving,” you retort weakly, managing to get your hand on the doorknob.

He hums, pressing one of his hands against the door, keeping it shut.

“Leon,” you sigh exasperatedly, “we can’t. You’re the one who said we should stop.”

“If I hadn’t said that, would you have stayed?”

The question hangs in the air. Your silence is answer enough. Leon’s mouth on your tits had been more than enough to convince you to stay, the memory of his clothed cock pressed up against your panties making you bite back another whine. His hand has begun to slide to your leg, smoothing up over your skin and under your skirt.

“Tell me,” Leon coaxes, his fingers grazing your panties, “would you have stayed?”

A strangled gasp is your response as he presses the pads of his fingers up against your panties. Leon lets out a low laugh, landing a soft kiss to your neck, his fingers rubbing at your cunt through the fabric of your panties.

Your head tips forward, forehead pressing against the door and mouth opening in a silent moan when Leon rubs faster. He trails kisses down your neck before nuzzling into the crook of it, pressing you against the door harder to grind his cock into your ass.

“C’mon, baby,” he urges again, “I wanna hear you say it.”

“I- I hate you,” you grit out but you rock your hips across his hand anyways, wanting more friction against your pussy.

Leon clicks his tongue, drawing his fingers away.

“Ngh- nooo,” you whine, trying to get his hand back to where you want him to touch you, “Leon!”

It’s too late though, Leon’s already unlatched himself, taking a few steps back to put some space between you two. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts, pursing his lips as he stares down at you.

“You’re a piece of shit, Leon.”

“You know, that makes me less inclined to want to touch you.”

“Fine,” you say, throwing your hands up, “I’ll just do it myself.”

“W- what?” Leon blurts out, gaze fixated on the sway of your hips as you push past him. He watches as you settle down onto his couch, your head tipping back as your hand disappears under your skirt and slips past the band of your panties.

A soft sigh escapes you when you touch yourself, eyes fluttering shut. You’re wet thanks to Leon, body squirming as your fingers circle your swollen clit to find some relief.

“Fuck,” Leon hisses, watching as you masturbate on his couch without a care in the world. His cock throbs painfully and he’s dropping to knees before he can stop himself, hands grabbing at your legs.

“No,” you glare at him when he tries to pull your panties down, swatting his hand away.

“Please?” he pleads, eyes darkened with lust, “baby, please? I- I just wanna see.”

“‘m not your baby,” you grouse, trying to shove his face away as your fingers slide through your slick folds.

“You could’ve been,” Leon mutters.

He looks a little bitter and you raise your brows in question. “You hate me.”

“No I don’t,” he replies, nuzzling into your knee, lips pressing against your skin in a gentle kiss, “I want you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you murmur, rolling your eyes when he manages to capture your wrist in his hand, stopping you from pushing him away. A soft gasp escapes you when he curls his arms over your thighs, spreading you open for him.

“Been wanting to fuck you ever since he brought you ‘round,” Leon whispers, peppering kisses to your inner thighs, “you’re so pretty.”

You mewl, hips bucking as he pulls your panties down your legs. Leon’s eyes darken as your fingers move, spreading apart the folds of your pussy so he can get a good look.

“Fuck,” he groans, “pussy’s so fucking wet, baby.”

Your fingers run through his soft hair, pulling his head closer. Leon goes more than willingly, his tongue lolling out to lick a stripe up your pussy. He lets out a guttural moan, arms tightening around your thighs, hands disappearing up your top to squeeze at your tits as he all but shoves his face into your cunt.

“You- oh- you should apologize, Leon,” you whisper, pushing his head away when he tries to suck your clit into his mouth. “You didn’t like any of my outfits and you were mean.”

“Are you serious?” he asks, trying to nuzzle back into your pussy.

You nod, and he groans, half-lidded eyes never straying from your leaking cunt.

“‘m sorry,” he breathes out, inching closer and managing to land a soft kiss to your aching clit, “‘m sorry, okay? I was an asshole and fuck-” Leon shudders, nudging past your hand to kiss your clit again as his eyes meet yours, “I didn’t him to want to see you like that, all pretty and dolled up.”

There’s a strange fluttering sensation in your chest, heart skipping a beat at his confession. You stare down at him, letting him kiss your clit one more time before you rub your fingers through your folds, pressing your slick fingers against his mouth. Leon moans, mouth opening, sucking your fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them.

“Don’t stop,” you mumble when Leon licks your pussy again.

He hums, squeezing at your tits, fingers pinching and tugging at your nipples as he eats you out. Soft mewls spill from your mouth, hips rocking to meet his mouth, back arching to press more of yourself against him.

You jerk in his grasp, an involuntary twitch running through your body when he strokes the pad of his thumb over your clit gently, his tongue burying itself inside of you.

“Leon,” you whine, tugging at his hair while your head tips back, “‘m close.”

He doubles his efforts when you say that, pinching your nipples roughly as he slurps and sucks at the wetness of your pussy. The sounds are lewd, the soft smack of his lips around your slick folds and aching cunt making you flush.

“Taking my fingers so good,” he whispers, pushing two of his fingers inside of your cunt and cooking them so that they brush against your sensitive spot.

You fist his hair tighter, moans growing louder as he fucks his fingers in and out of you, his mouth latching onto your clit, tongue flicking and stroking across the swollen bud before sucking hard.

“Ah!” you squeak out, shoving his face further into your cunt, thighs trapping his face and squeezing tight as you cum, body shuddering and toes digging into his back, “Leon!”

Leon groans into your cunt, taking your orgasm eagerly, sucking and licking at your wetness, drinking it down. He huffs a breath when you try to push his head away, moving your hand away to lick over your pussy despite your twitching thighs and the painful grip you have on his hair.

He pulls away finally with a kiss to your clit, grinning up at you, his eyes hazy with lust. The lower half of his face is wet and Leon licks his lips before leaning towards you, his nose nudging against yours.

“Kiss me, sweetheart.”

You whine, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. He stares up at you, lips parted and you lower your head, hesitation and guilt forgotten as you press your lips against his. Leon lets out a contented sigh, his arms wrapping around your waist, lips moving against yours eagerly.

He gets off of his knees and crawls on top of you instead, hips slotting between your thighs. Your legs wrap around his waist, kissing him languidly and gasping into his mouth when he grinds his clothed cock against your bare cunt.

“Want it?” he whispers, trailing kisses down your neck, “want my cock, baby?”

“We- we shouldn’t,” you whisper weakly, watching as he sits back to pull his shirt up over his head.

You gulp nervously when you see his bare upper half, cunt clenching at the sight of his muscled abdomen and thick biceps. Leon ignores you, his lips slotting over yours again, hand caressing your waist soothingly.

A sigh leaves you, hands smoothing over his shoulders to pull him closer. He stares down at you, panting softly, his face pressing into the crook of your neck.

“You’re right,” he murmurs.

Neither of you make any moves to detach from each other however, Leon’s hand stroking over your hair as he grunts and rocks his hips against your cunt again.

“Just- shit- just the tip,” Leon offers, groaning when he feels your hands on his chest, “just the tip, baby.”

You whimper into his mouth when he kisses you again, fingers creeping down to pull at his shorts impatiently.

“D- doesn’t count if it’s just the tip,” you agree breathlessly, hand wrapping around his fat cock.

“Yeah,” Leon says, his voice shaky, “yeah, doesn’t hah- doesn’t count if it's just the tip.”

Leon mutters out a curse when your thumb swipes over the sensitive head of his cock, kissing you roughly as he grasps his cock, pumping it a few times. You watch, flushed and eager as he presses his cock against your folds, rubbing it against you.

“Feels so fuckin’ good,” he snarls, moving his cock and slapping it the tip of it against your swollen clit, smearing pre-cum across your folds. “‘m gonna make you forget about him,” Leon slurs, “gonna make you mine, sweetheart.”

He presses the tip of his cock into you and you whine, clawing at his biceps, feeling the initial stretch of his cock. Leon grunts, his face pressing back into the crook of you neck, fucking you shallowly.

“Bet my entire cock would feel good,” he mumbles, kissing your neck, “wouldn’t that be nice, baby? My fat cock filling you up?”

“But- but we can’t,” you babble, gasping when he pushes his cock in a little more, “Leon- oh fuck-”

Your words die on your tongue when Leon drives his hips into you, cock filling you up completely. A strangled moan leaves you, head tipping back as you cry out, Leon groaning as he pounds his hips into you.

“Take it, sweetheart,” he grunts, hand smoothing over your hair as he kisses your cheek messily, “doing so good, made to take my cock, my sweet girl.”

The praise is making your eyes roll to the back of your head, legs tightening around his hips as your nails claw down his back.

“Kiss,” you whine, lips parting for Leon, “kiss me.”

Leon lets out a low growl, his lips crashing onto yours, cock dragging in and out of your clenching walls rapidly. The sounds of your skin clapping together fills his apartment, but you’re too cockdrunk, too utterly gone to have any care in the world. All you can think about is his weight on top of your body, his lips dragging across your skin, his cock pounding into you.

“Squeezing me so tight,” Leon moans, “gonna make me cum, baby.”

You nod rapidly, cunt clenching around him as the coil of pleasure in your stomach grows tighter and tighter.

“Leon!” you wail, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, body twitching.

“Cum,” he grunts, squeezing your hips tightly, “c’mon baby, cum on my cock. Be a good girl and cream my fucking cock.”

His lips slot over yours and you whimper, kissing him back needily as you shake in his grasp, orgasm racking through you as you cum.

“Fuck-” Leon whispers, feeling the clench of your cunt around his cock, “baby, baby, baby.”

His hips stutter, his head falling between your breasts, soft pants filling the air as he cums. Leon’s hot cum floods your pussy, another whimper escaping you as you feel his cock twitch.

You both lay there, chests heaving.

“I hate you,” you whisper, running your fingers through his soft hair.

“Yeah,” Leon rasps, “I know.”

He kisses you anyways.

Your boyfriend’s been promoted.

It’s how you find yourself here, latched onto his arm as he talks with his colleagues with a tight smile on your face. Unfortunately for you, Leon happens to work at the same place which is why you spend most of your time trying to avoid him.

You’d tried to get out of attending the anniversary dinner, too ashamed and sick to your stomach, but your boyfriend had pleaded with you, which had only made you feel guiltier.

You can’t escape Leon’s gaze either. His eyes bore into you no matter where you go in the spacious venue and it gets to the point where you’re telling your boyfriend that you need to get some fresh air. There’s a fire escape and you take your chance, pushing past the heavy door to suck in a deep breath of the cool night air. The expanse of the city lies out before you, buildings lit up and roads bustling with traffic. You rub your aching temples, eyes squeezing shut.

Unfortunately, you don’t get to cool down for long, not when Leon’s joining you. He looks as handsome as ever, especially in a suit, his hair combed back neatly.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Go fuck yourself, Leon,” you hiss out, pointing your finger at him accusingly.

A lazy grins spreads across his face, his arm curling around your waist to pull you flush against him. Your hands land against his chest, breath hitching when he lowers his head, the tip of his nose brushing yours.

“Fuck me yourself, hm?”

You end up bent over the railing with Leon’s fat cock stuffed inside of you. He grips your hips roughly, groans as you cry out into the night, peppers kisses over your shoulder and shoves his fingers into your mouth while he whispers sweet nothings to you.

“You’re my girl.”

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #leon kennedy

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melangedeparfums · 18 days ago

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AT THE SUPERMARKET

masterlist

toji fushiguro x pregnant!reader

tw: crack (attempts to), fluff, reader is pregnant with megumi, toji calling reader “ma, mama”, weird pregnancy cravings, not proofread.

“yellow or green?”

“hmm?”

“toji, are you listening to me?” you sighed in the middle of the alley of the supermarket, waving two baby pyjamas in each of your hands.

“i’m not buying my son a pyjama with fucking cows eating grass on it, ma’.”

“toji.”

running errands with toji was a nightmare. he was always behind you, his chest pressed against your back while he caged you before the cart, listening half the time to whatever you were saying. he also glared to anybody who dared stare at you for too long, ready to fight if needed while you offered apologetic smiles to whoever would come across your husband behaviour. that was always the same thing with him. having toji to lift the bags, push the cart, and pay was great - but his scary dog attitude was a lot to deal with.

“so, green or yellow?” you repeated, now that you had his full attention.

“green.”

“yellow it is.” you put the yellow pyjama - the one with the cows eating grass - in the cart, while he pushed it, his lips spreading into a half-smile. he knew you - you always got what you wanted, even if he found the pyjamas atrocious, and that it would make his son look like a fucking minion, he would bear it, for you.

toji couldn’t really understand why buying cute little stuff for your child - that wasn’t even born yet - seemed to always put you in a good mood. little socks, bobble hats, and everything that went with it. megumi - as he insisted on naming him - could wear nothing and he would love his son the same. but, he wouldn’t question it, not with you. the sigh of your swollen belly made his chest flutter with warmth, his dark blue eyes softening slightly. your were glowing with pregnancy, delicate skin flushed with heat, eyes gleaming with excitement - when you didn’t want to kill him half of the time - feeling his own heart stutter in his ribcage. he often couldn’t believe how someone so pure would want to do anything with him - but the universe worked in mysterious ways, not that he was really complaining.

“you know what i really crave right now?” your question seemed to pull him out of his thoughts, his eyes finding yours.

“cheesecake? fries and ice-cream?”

“no. i want strawberries with burrata, or avocado with chocolate….” your eyebrows knitted, a little pout on my lips, your eyes darting between both options, your hands on your belly. which one to get? it seemed like a whole dilemma, your mouth watering just thinking about it. your husband was used to it: it could take hours for you to choose, changing your opinion at least five times to be finally decided.

“which one does he want?” toji asked, my chin titling to your belly. he learnt how to be patient, his dearly wife deserved every once of the patience he could summon. so, if you took it seriously, he would too, even if you had to spend twenty minutes deciding. so, be it. your were the mother of his son after all.

“i don’t know.” toji took a package of strawberries and the peanut butter. he made you smell one after the other, his eyes narrowing to watch every detail of your reaction. since you were pregnant, indecision seemed to claw at you, your cravings changing every time.

both of you waited for the little blessing in your belly to manifest himself, to kick or even move.

nothing.

absolutely nothing.

“he’s sleeping i think.” you finally announced, a sigh leaving your lips.

“hey, megumi, wake up and tell your mother-“ yes, toji was patient with you, but if his soon-to-be-born child could help him, even a little bit, he would feel extremely grateful right now.

“toji.”

“i was dead ass serious.” the little pout on your lips softened him, as he leaned to kiss your forehead with gentleness. “it’s okay, we can take both.”

“really?” your eyes seemed to lighten, eyelashes fluttering with hope.

“yes, mama.” he put everything in the cart without thinking twice. he would indulge your weird pregnancy cravings if he got to look at your adorable smile every single day.

arriving at the checkout, toji didn’t think twice and skipped the line: one of the perks of having a pregnant wife after all. he would use all the advantages - for you, like for him, “my wife is pregnant” being his favourite line every time he went out - even without you. skipping the line, using the parking spot (even when you weren’t pregnant) or taking every discount coupons that crossed his line of sight. yes, toji was a freeloader.

“you take too much pleasure in skipping the line.”

“hey, we are pregnant.”

his huge frame hid your body from the sight of the rest of the line. he listened intently to every word coming out of your mouth, his palm under his chin.

“sir, you’re not allowed to skip the line.” said an old woman, her eyebrows knitted. toji didn’t answer - in fact, he didn’t give a fuck about respecting the elders. why was she even bothering him?

“where are your manners?” she continued, her hands clutching her cane with frail hands, her eyes narrowing on his back.

fighting with other customers to have priority was one of toji’s favourite hobbies but today, he didn’t have the patience. instead, he didn’t waste time and spin you to show the old lady your round belly, a small squeal leaving your lips, his huge hands turning you by the shoulders making you almost dizzy in the process.

“my priority card is here, old hag.”

“toji!”

────

first time writing here (instead of studying), i don’t usually like the pregnancy trope but i liked the idea, so there we go! english isn’t my first language btw ✌🏻

#toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fluff #jjk megumi

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mdsbabygirl · 5 months ago

Note

Hello! I love your work, I just read “Being their fuckbuddy,” and I’m hooked. I was wondering if you would make a part 2 where the reader/you call things off and they realize that they’ve actually caught some feelings? It’s alright if you don’t want to! I’m a total sucker for angst lol.

Ofc my lovely anon!! I'll be more than glad to do that! Here's part two of "being their fuckbuddy". btw don't be shy to make requests, they make me really happy and I'm more than willing to write them!

Please baby.. don't let go of me yet...

PART TWO OF "Being their fuckbuddy"

Pairing: Otoya Eita/ Itoshi Sae/ Bachira Meguru/ Shidou Ryusei/ Chigiri Hyoma/ Barou Shoei x FEM! reader

Synopsis: when you end up walking out of your "relationship", these men feel empty inside, finally realizing that their lust has indeed turned into something much deeper.

Genre: smut, angst

Wc: 3,3k

Cw: dark themes, MDNI, mentions of makeup sex, very depressed men, semi-public sex(Otoya, Barou), crying messes(Bachira, Chigiri), nonchalant fuckers(Sae, Barou), black mail/threatening/ humiliation (Shidou), stalking(meguru), womanizer(otoya), these men are very much Inlove with you, etc..

Otoya Eita:

•"yeah, I'm fine with it" he said, his tone as casual as possible. He knew your relationship wasn't going to last long, and it was part of the thrill he felt when he was with you. But when the parting time finally came, he didn't feel right. He thought he could just move on, quickly forgetting you and your shared moments to focus on the next girl he was going to pull.. but no, not this time. Otoya was very confused, why was he suddenly getting emotional? Why was he starting to feel uneasy, a surging pain in his stomach made him feel awful, as if he got repeatedly punched in the abdomen, all while he was looking at you in the far distance. You, the one who made him feel like he could've reached heaven with how much pleasure he felt; you, the girl he always enjoyed spending time with because you were fun and interesting, you the one who got his heart.

•Eita was mad at first, why the fuck did it hurt so much? It's not like it was the first time he got a heartbreak, he'd usually just bury the pain with sex, fucking around with multiple women, until he forgot about everything, the pain eventually subsiding. And he tried, like, he tried really hard, going every night to nightclubs and having one nightstands with every woman he found somewhat hot.. the thing is, the sex was awful..it didn't feel right, it was dull and boring, as if all the feelings in his body were dead, making him unable to feel the slightest sparkle of excitement. He'd often ask himself, why was he like this? Why couldn't he just bounce back like before, going back to being the destrous ninja of seduction he once was.. even all the women he had picked were somewhat of a close replica to you, all sharing common attributes that you had.. I guess you are really unreplaceable..

•that, was his situation for a while, being the slave of a non ending vicious circle of sex, alcohol and depression. That was, until he finally saw you at one of the clubs he frequented. It's like his world lit up, transforming from a dark nightmare to the sweetest of dreams. His eyes widened in surprise, not expecting to meet you at all, but there you were, looking ever so stunning, wearing your prettiest dress, and hypnotizing everyone with your looks. At first he froze, not knowing what to do. But then he decided that it was time to put an end to his misery, deciding it would be best to just confess to you, and tell you how much he had been yearning for you for the past weeks. You were quite stunned too, not only not expecting this sudden encounter, but also not even imagining that this womanizer would be pouring his heart out to you.. you smiled subtly, thinking his actions were cute, yet you were still indecisive, you didn't trust him enough, thinking he'd break your heart if you let him in, which was indeed why you left him. You started catching feelings, all this intimacy between the two of you sparking a growing love for the man. Eita, ever so happy, was quick to hug you, pressing soft kisses on your lips until they became more and more heated, leading the both of you to make out heatedly in the middle of the club. Then.. well let's just say you were way too needy for each other to wait to go home so instead you fucked in one of the bathroom stalls... His hand was pushing you onto the door, your tube top pushed down to reveal your tits that were squished against the cold surface, as Eita was behind you, rumming his rock hard cock relentlessly, like he'd always do..

Itoshi Sae:

•he had that cold, expressionless face he always had when it happened. You had invited him to talk, insisting it was best if it happened in person. He looked so stunning, his teal eyes, an amalgamation of the most serene blue sky and most captivating green seas, were a pool of alluring coolness. No matter how hard the news might've been, he never budged.. he just nodded, agreeing with your request for ending things. And that's how, you both just walked away, forgetting all the moments of your shared passion, as if you finished the last chapter of a boring book. But.. did he really find your fling boring? Was he really willing to just move on, as if nothing had happened?

•Sae was used to the solitude, he was a reservated person, not allowing anyone in his circle, and the fact that you managed to get in that close to him, must've meant something right?.. it couldn't have been just purely a give and receive link, it must've been much more than that. He was human after all, meaning that he must've felt the smallest shred of something, anything really, even if it was lust, hate or love. Sae was confused, not knowing how to act or what to feel. He just went back to being to his usual self, an egoist who only cares about his sacred soccer.. but if that's what he thought he did, then why couldn't he sleep at night? Why was his bed so empty all of a sudden? Why was he flipping through the pics you post on your socials? Did you really manage to plague his mind? Turning him from a cold hearted egoista, to a yearning lover, a man that needed your presence as much as he needed oxygen to survive.

•The nights felt long, unending hours of long lasting boredom and solitude, weighted down on Sae's mind. He wanted it to stop, needing this feeling of hollowness to be over. He tossed and turned in bed, unable to rest.. he took his phone, 2 AM.. great you might be sleeping he thought.. he looked intensely at your contact info on his screen, contemplating if calling you would be the right choice.. it was his first time being indecisive, he was always a confident man, always sure of himself and his actions; but this time he wasn't.. his hands trembling as he held the phone. In the end he said fuck It, deciding that going to your house was the best option.. once he arrived, he ringed the bell, waiting for you. When you came out, wearing your comfy pj's, and asking why he was here while yawning, he just grabbed your face and kissed you, not even wasting time on words. He led you inside, huffing out how much he missed you and how he can't be apart from you.. you couldn't give him a straight answer yet, but you still didn't deny him, inviting him in, keeping him all close and cozy, so warm and feeling heavenly as his big cock is buried deep inside your hot cunny.

Bachira Meguru:

•things between the two of you started getting a bit rocky, his possessiveness was too overwhelming. He was always by your side, his presence so suffocating that it left you drained both emotionally and physically. It was after one of your encounters that you decided to call things off. Bachira was panting heavily, his chest heaving as he came down from his high. He still was on top of you, looking down at you with his lovestruck look.. you kinda felt bad about what you were about to do, knowing how sad he'll be once you leave him. Meguru, tiredly laid beside you, looking at you before wrapping an arm around your naked figure..you were kinda starting to rethink your actions, thinking that maybe you could get used to his.. well, quirkiness? But you didn't, once Bachira announced something about wanting you to be fully his, you finally snapped. You quickly got up, getting your scattered up clothes and putting them on without saying a word.. you didn't wanna get even more mad, nor upset him with the bullshit you knew you were about to say if u really snapped. The man behind you, looking ever so struck by your sudden change in behavior grabbed you by the forearm, asking what happened.. oh man, you did snap at that time.. you started throwing insults at him, telling him how suffocated you felt, before you gathered your stuff and left him alone in his apartment.

•To say that Bachira was shocked was an understatement. He couldn't believe what he heard.. he.. was suffocating? Was he really so frustrating and maddening like you just said? He didn't wanna believe this, thinking that maybe you just had a bad day, maybe you were mad at everyone and he just so happened to be the unlucky one to have to undergo such a shitty experience. But deep down he knew the truth. He knew that you entirely meant what you said, all those words hitting him like a poisonous dagger to the heart. He did everything for you, treated you like a princess, gave you constant attention, never once did he let you out of his sight.. he swore he was the best you could've ever had, the one and only who would worship you and treat you like the goddess you are.. yet, you left him. Like everybody else did. He should've been used to it by now, but fuck It hurt.. I guess that's why he felt hot globs of tears streaming down his face, his sobbing filling up the room. He really didn't deserve all this pain that you so hurtfully inflicted on him.

•after crying his heart out, he concluded that this wasn't the solution, deciding that if you weren't going to be willingly his , he was going to do it forcefully. Bachiras is known to have a dark side in him, a so-called monster that whispers the filthiest, most evil ideas in his mind. It was time to hear his alter-ego, using this demonic quirk of his to finally show you who you belong to, finally convincing you that he's your one and only. That's why, late at night he sneaked into your house..(he might've made a copy of your key without you noticing but Shhh) waiting for your arrival. As for you, you were getting home from work, unable to shake away the thought of how badly you treated Bachira. You wanted to apologize, but you were way too tired, so u decided that tomorrow you'll go to his place and make up with him. You unlocked your door, finally entering your home, when you saw Bachira laying all comfy on your sofa.. you were very much surprised, thinking that maybe it was because you were tired. Noticing you, meguru quickly went up to you, hugging you so tightly you could've swore you stopped breathing for a sec, before caressing your face, looking at you with a devilish gaze as he whispered in your ear, "you'll always be mine sweet thing!" Before pressing a wet kiss to your neck, "we're going to have so much fun tonight my love." He chuckled, his hands quickly finding your sides as he pressed his body flush against yours, the feeling of his hard-on on your lower abdomen.

Shidou Ryusei:

•ok..ummm, did I mention that this man is pure evil? Like he won't leave you so easily, never letting you slip from his grip without any consequences–this is if he ever let you go, because let's be honest, shidou would never ever let you dissapear from his life, letting your shared memories transforming into a mirage that would forever haunt him. He'd first laugh at you, thinking you weren't serious about calling things off. He'd wrap his arms around your frame, squeezing the plump skin of your butt, a nasty habit of his, telling you that it was a nice joke. But when you slapped him, telling him how much of a maniac he is and walking away, he was surprised. He didn't expect his ever obliging fwb, would have some personality.

•at first he'd let you go, still a bit startled from that whole ordeal, but then he'd start manically laughing, delving so deep down in his psychopathy that he might've become even more insane just from that.. He HAD to make you his, one way or another. He was totally convinced that you were just playing hard to get, or maybe into some kind of cat and mouse chasing thing.. maybe he could even use this dynamic for your next sexy sesh.. but that's for another time to discuss..

•shidou, just walked up to you, hugging you from behind, as if you were a lovey-dovey couple, just casually nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and pressing wet kisses on the skin. You were startled for sure, not wanting any sort of contact with this devilish monster; yet, you couldn't deny his effect on you, a small pool of wetness forming between your legs, but you'll never let him know of course. Somehow, managing to push him off of you, you told him to go away, refusing any form of link to him. Chuckling, Ryusei pulled his phone, his large hands scrolling through his gallery until he found them... All your sex tapes, ready to be sent to everyone who knew you. Grinning devilishly, shidou blackmailed you, you got two choices, you were either to be completely humiliated or to come back to that psycho ... He pressed you, forcing you to choose quickly, otherwise he'd do what you dreaded most. In either way you'd lose your dignity, since being with such a freak had its downsides.. I guess you had no choice, but to forcefully get back with him.

"Mm yeah, that's more like it, my little cockwhore!" He grinned, as he was spreading your ass cheek, looking down at how his big cock was sinking deeply in your soaked folds, all while you were a moaning mess under him.. he's so demonic fr..

Chigiri Hyoma:

•chigiri knew he loved you, he knew for a long time now, always thinking about how he could change your mind, how to make you his gf.. he could've done so much for you, treating you like the queen you are, showing you unyielding affection... anything, he would've done anything for you.. yet, you rejected him. It stung like hell, the loneliness was catching up to him, and that mixed up with the sickening sadness and sorrow he felt was the most potent of poisons.

•He was alone on his bed, looking up at the ceiling as he was sobbing, warm tears streaming down his pretty face. Handsome faces shouldn't cry, you told him before you left, caressing his face one last time before you disappeared from his life. The mere thought of that agonizing moment sent Hyoma into another hysterical crying.. he couldn't believe he got so hypnotized by you that was reduced to this state. He knew you wanted nothing more than sex, he knew that what you had was ephemeral; yet he still couldn't accept the fact that he had lost you. The worst being the way you rejected him, smiling so reassuringly, so softly and so prettily, your face was imprinted in his mind. No matter how much he exhausted himself in training or drowned himself in alcohol, he couldn't forget you. How dare you break his heart in such a nonchalant way, reassuring him he'll find the one for him, even if you knew he had eyes only for you? You were so cruel, he thought.

•days passed since your splitting, and shit started weighing down on your consciousness.. I mean, you did realize that you broke his heart. With a sigh, you decided to stop thinking about him, recalling that all men were the same, all horny and unmannered, always making sexual jokes and treating you like some kind of fucktoy. That was the male treatment you were used to, so when you started frequenting Chigiri, it felt.. different. Sure he was still a man with his own needs and stupidity, yet he was the most caring and gentle one of them all. Slowly you started to realize the huge mistake you made. With tears threatening to fall on your face, you got out of your house, running as fast as you could to apologize to the sweetest, most handsome man you've ever met.. the man you loved. Ringing his bell repeatedly, he opened the door and saw you. Another surge of tears came out, making him sob uncontrollably. So you quickly hugged him, pressing kisses on his head, apologizing for the catastrophic mistake you've made.. in the end, let's just say that he accepted your apology, letting you ride all the sadness out of him, as you're tenderly making out.. make up sex with Chigiri was truly the best.

Barou Shoei :

•barou didn't need you anyway, you were such a nuisance to him, he thought. Not only were you so neglecting of his feelings, but you also had the guts to dump him, discarding him like a used toy that you didn't need anymore. Wasn't he your king? The only man that made you feel intense ecstasy? Well you were in the wrong, like you've always been, he thought once again. Barou could live perfectly without you, it's not like his existence depended on yours, and also it's not like he wanted the presence of someone who didn't want him back. Yet, why did he feel a tinge of sadness? Why was it that when he saw happy couples on the street, he felt like he had a hole in his chest that couldn't be filled no matter what? He didn't know why for sure, and he never even wanted to know.

•What a stubborn king, suppressing all his feelings until they burst like an atomic bomb. And indeed that's what happened, he denied the fact that he still loves you, he hates it. It makes him feel weak, transforming him from a glorious king to a heartbroken slave.. Barou wanted nothing more than his feelings for you to disappear, wanting to put his constant yearning for you to a halt, but he couldn't. No matter how hard he tried, you wouldn't get out of his mind, for a moment he thought that you had cast a spell on him, one so potent that left him entrances, as if he was hypnotized by a siren's voice..

•Barou wanted so badly to come back to you, to just be in your arms, to be able to love you without any restrictions.. but you deprived him of this happiness, condemning him to a life of sorrow and desperation.. As for you, well, you weren't doing so good either. You tried everything to forget him too, but your king had already left his imprint on you, forever changing your life, making it so that he was the only man you'd ever think about. You did send him countless messages, apologizing to him, asking him to meet up to set things straight yet he never responded, he was such a proud mf. So that's why you just went up to him during one of his training, it was the only choice as he couldn't ignore you there. But since Barou didn't wanna cause a scene, he just dragged you to the locker room, opting that finishing your conversation there would provide some more privacy. Well.. let's just say that your conversation was cut short, and the locker room was now filled with both of your moans, as Shoei was kinda busy making sure you'll never leave him, thrusting in you from behind, marking you, biting sucking and kissing your neck and shoulders so that way next time you'll know better than to leave your king.

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frenchkisstheabyss · 2 months ago

Text

|☾| 𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕔𝕠 |☽|

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!seungcheol x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: fluff/smut/angst

♡ Summary: When your creepy coworker finally crosses the line your boyfriend swoops in to save the day, offering you safety and comfort in more ways than one.

♡ Word Count: 2.6kish

♡ Warnings: creepy coworker, someone pinches reader's ass, subsequently gets their ass kicked, angry cheol, lots of kissing, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, car sex, creampie, pet names (baby).

♡ A/N: This is a lil comfort fit requested to me by an anon. I hope that I did your request justice my darling 💜

“Cheol!” you scream, high heels scraping the concrete as you shuffle across the parking lot in pursuit of your boyfriend. “Choi Seungcheol, I know you hear me!”

When you called your boyfriend it’d been for comfort. You needed a shoulder to cry on, someone to console you, but you didn’t know he’d react like this. Part of you didn’t know that he could. Seungcheol’s your sweetheart, your teddy bear. He’s the loving gaze that you wake up to each morning and the gentle arms you fall asleep in at night. Your man would never hurt a fly. At least you thought so. The way he is now—jaw clenched, irises burning with rage—you aren’t as sure about that anymore.

“Vernon, get her in the car!” he shouts back to his best friend and an arm clasps around your wrist, dragging you back towards the car.

You turn to Vernon, pleading with him to do something. Anything. But it goes in one ear and out the other. You look back to Seungcheol in time to catch the moment he disappears through the doors of your job, out of your sight and completely out of your control. Defeated, you slip into the passenger’s seat without a fight, pouting as the door slams closed. You glance up at the rearview mirror and into the backseat where another of Seungcheol’s best friends sits with guilt all over his face.

“Sorry” Wonwoo mouths, apologizing for his lack of effort to stop Seungcheol in the first place. Not that he can blame him for the way he’s acting. Wonwoo would react the same way if his girlfriend called him crying because some asshole at work decided it was a good idea to touch her. He’d break his fingers. Every single one.

Your night had started out so well. The bar wasn’t as packed as it usually is. Mostly regulars and a few harmless college kids whose fake IDs were enough to get them in. Tips were steady, your favorite bartender was working, and your boss even agreed to cut you early to make it to your friend Hoshi’s birthday party. But if working at the bar has taught you anything it’s that things can change at the drop of a hat and it did the second your worst enemy clocked in.

To him you’re far from enemies, somewhere in his delusional brain you share a mutual crush, but in the real world a sense of nauseating dread overcomes you in his presence. You’ve told Seungcheol about him before. How he makes it a point to be in close quarters with you. Always making excuses to squeeze in beside you when you’re getting ice or putting in orders. How he insists on calling you pet names like “cutie” or “sexy” even though you’ve told him a million times how uncomfortable it makes you. Each time Seungcheol has offered to come handle the situation and each time you’ve insisted that you had it under control but tonight was a different story.

You’d been taking drink orders for a table, your full attention dedicated to making sure your indecisive patrons were double sure they knew what they wanted. All night he’d been making comments about how pretty you look dressed up for the party. “I bet your boyfriend can’t keep his hands off you” he quipped.

Apparently neither could he because as soon as you weren’t paying attention he thought it was the perfect time to pinch your ass. It happened so quickly. If not for the smile on his face when you turned around you might’ve thought it was a mistake but no. It was very intentional.

All you wanted to do was turn around and stab him with that pen in your hand but instead you ran to the bathroom, calling the first person you could think of. Your boyfriend. Seungcheol took his time listening to you, promising you everything would be okay and that this would never happen again. Fifteen minutes later he was texting you from the parking lot telling you to come out. If your shift wasn’t already over it was now.

“It’ll be fine” Vernon reassures you, now seated beside Wonwoo, “He’s got this.”

Staring out the window at the eerie stillness of the night, you wonder what exactly it is that he’s got. Your anxiety grows with the passing minutes. What’s he doing in there? Why isn’t he back yet? You get your answer when the door to the bar swings open and a body comes flying out, colliding with the ground like a slab of meat. Seungcheol steps out behind him, advancing on the man quicker than he can get up. It isn’t until he grips the back of the man’s head, dragging him towards the car, that you recognize it as your coworker. Seungcheol looks fine, same as when he walked in, but your coworker looks wrecked, his shirt torn and his nose bloodied.

You watch in horror as Seungcheol brings him right up to the window, dangling him before you like a broken doll. Vernon and Wonwoo avert their eyes elsewhere, pretending not to see a thing.

“Tell her you’re sorry” Seungcheol commands, tightening his hold and searing the man’s scalp in the process.

Your coworker sniffs back involuntary tears, blood trickling down his lips. “I’m…I’m sorry, okay?”

“And you’ll never touch her again?”

“And…and I’ll n-never….”

“Touch her…”

“Touch her again. Okay? Alright?”

Seungcheol looks at you, his anger softening, “Okay?”

You nod frantically, your heart racing, “Yes, okay.”

Seungcheol leans into the man's ear, dealing a final blow to his stomach. “If I hear you even looked at her wrong I’m gonna come back and break your fucking legs.” Turning him loose, Seungcheol watches as the man scurries back into the bar before climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Everyone good?” he asks, starting the car and flipping on some music.

Vernon throws him some wicked side eye. Everyone’s good except that guy. “Yeah, man. We’re good.”

Wonwoo nods in agreement, pulling out his phone to be involved in anything but this. “A thousand percent.”

Seungcheol takes your hand, petting the back of it with his thumb. He brings it to his lips, pressing soft kisses to your knuckles. You want to say something but you can’t. You can only stare in awe at the man before you. Whatever monster anger had turned him into has fallen back asleep, leaving only the boyfriend you know behind, but you can’t shake what just happened. Accepting your silence, Seungcheol starts the car, keeping your hand in his as you head towards your destination.

Your phone buzzes in your lap. A string of text messages from the bartender coming through.

✨💖 Dawn ✨💖 What the fuck was that? ✨💖 Dawn ✨💖 Did your boyfriend just kick his ass? ✨💖 Dawn ✨💖 Kinda hot. Ngl.

Seungcheol sneaks a look at your phone but you catch him, flipping it over to conceal the conversation. What the fuck was that? You don’t even know. Did your boyfriend just kick his ass? Without a doubt. Kinda hot. Not gonna lie. You’re ashamed at how much that strikes a chord. You’re not one of those girls who encourages violence. In fact, you never want to see Seungcheol like that again.

But was it hot? Was that level of protectiveness attractive? Did his angry face make you swoon? Did his arm muscles look especially delicious dragging a man across a parking lot? You squeeze your thighs together to quiet the feeling awakening between them. You’ve gone insane. Haven’t you?

You try to focus on something else. Humming along to songs on the radio. Watching the neon signs of local shops fly by in a blur of color as you speed down the road. Marveling at the glow of the moon and the stars dancing around it. But none of it seems to work and by the time you’re pulling up to Hoshi’s apartment the sprinkle of moisture in your panties is reaching borderline flood status.

“You guys head inside. We’ll be up in a minute” Seungcheol whispers back to his friends and they climb out of the car without a word, heading up to the party.

Seungcheol switches the car off, leaving the two of you alone in silence. He watches you for a moment but you only stare straight ahead. Too awkward to look him in the eye. He thinks you must be mad at him, that maybe he went too far, and the idea that he hurt you even a little bit makes him sick.

“Come here” he says, shifting his seat back to make room for you.

The way he taps his lap to call you over makes you fold in an instant and you find yourself climbing onto him, your knees tucked at his sides as he reaches up to cradle your face. He rubs your cheeks, looking up at you through a curtain of chocolate brown hair, and warmth radiates through your body.

“You mad at me?” he asks, as close to pouting as you’ve ever seen him.

“Why would I be mad at you? He deserved it” you say, your own anger at the man’s actions boiling to the surface, “I was just surprised to see you like that.”

“I don’t like being that way but when it comes to you…” he sighs, taking you in like he would some rare treasure, “I don’t know. I just lost it but I’d never be that way with you. I swear I—”

Pushing his hands away, you press your lips to his, refusing to hear anything more. “Baby, I know you’d never.” You lay your hands on his shoulders, lightly massaging them, and you can almost feel the tension melt away.

His arms come around your waist, his fingertips invading the space between your top and the softness of your figure. “Good. I just want you to feel safe with me.” He returns your kiss with another. Something short and sweet. “I’ll always protect you. Always take care of you.”

He pulls you closer, deepening the kiss and stirring up those feelings brewing deep inside of you. His tongue performs a beautiful dance with yours, tangling in a mixture of love and lust, building the heat between you. Seungcheol’s hands slide down your body, slipping beneath your skirt to knead the succulent flesh of your ass.

“Cheol” you giggle, his lips still on yours even as you speak, “Behave.”

“Mmm, I don’t think I know what that means” he teases, squeezing harder. When he does it grinds you down onto him, something stiff pressing back up against you.

You release the softest moan, rocking your hips, desperate for more friction. “We should go inside” you say more for yourself than for him.

Burying his face in your neck, he plants intoxicatingly slow kisses along your skin, your pulse racing beneath his tongue. You arch your back in response, giving him the perfect angle to sneak a hand between your thighs, stroking your increasingly needy pussy through your panties. His cock steels at the realization of how wet you are, the fabric so drenched that he can feel you clenching.

“You’re right, we should” he mumbles, looping a finger around your panties, his knuckle dragging along your slit, “But you have to get up first, don’t you?”

Your eyes fall closed as you bask in the tingly sensation his actions send rippling up your walls. You hold on tighter to his shoulders, your pillowy tits swelling against his chest. The absence of a bra makes it easy to tell how hard your nipples have gotten and he wishes to god that had enough room to take one onto his mouth, swirling his tongue around it until your eyes roll back.

“Get up? I can…mmph” you whine as his finger curls into you. One after the other until three of his dexterous fingers are stretching you wide, lazily pumping in and out of your tight hole.

Seungcheol slaps your ass making you jiggle around his fingers. Kissing his way up your chin, he finds your lips again, lapping up every moan you pour out. “Go ahead, baby, get up” he taunts, fingers moving faster, delving so deep into your warmth that he swears he can feel every part of you.

You bite down on your lip, your moans growing louder the harder you try to keep quiet. At the back of your mind you know you aren’t truly alone. There’s a party going on inside. What if someone else decides to show up and sees you like this? What if one of the guys left something in the car and comes back for it?

A million possibilities flow through your brain but more than that, more than anything else in the world, it's how good this feels. How well Seungcheol knows how to fuck you with his fingers. How hot he looks doing it. He gets off on pleasing you—the arousal soaking his boxers is more than enough evidence of that—and he can never hide how much he loves watching you. His beautiful girl. Dripping and moaning all because of him. All for him.

“Cheol…” you whisper, your fingers finding his hair, “Want you…inside…”

You can barely speak, already too drunk off his fingers to perfectly articulate what it is that you want, but for Seungcheol it’s enough. You never have to ask him twice. He gives you a few more pumps, harder and rougher than the others, before his drenched fingers pop free, juices dripping down your thighs.

In no mood to be patient, you sit back, hurrying to remove any barriers between you and what you want the most. His cock springs free, the head already wet enough to shine in the glow of the streetlights. It’s pretty enough to make your mouth water. So thick and well defined that you can’t resist running your fingers down it to admire the perfection of it.

Seungcheol coaxes you into a kiss, his hand around the base of his cock as he guides you up and onto it. He eases you down onto it a little at a time, not wanting to rush the glorious feeling of that first big stretch. When he finally bottoms out you’re left shivering, chills skating up your spine at the fullness.

“Fuck, you feel amazing, baby” he says, throwing his head back against the head rest.

His fingertips dig into your thighs as you lean into him, rotating your hips to ride his cock at every angle the limited space will allow you to. The car windows begin to fog up from the heat of your bodies, tucking you away in your own little world, and you let yourself get lost in it, forgetting about anything else other than the feeling of Seungcheol throbbing against your walls.

Resting his palm against your cheek, Seungcheol smooths the pad of his thumb across your lips, delicately petting them. “I love you” he whispers, the emotions welling up inside him threatening to overflow.

You truly are precious to him. When he heard you crying on the phone earlier he lost it. The thought of anyone hurting you made him see red. All he could think was to protect you no matter what that meant. Looking at you now he can’t bring himself to regret it. It’s not just the way you’re riding him, your pussy hugging him with all of its warmth. It’s the way your beauty shines even in the shadows, his love for you growing with every breath you take.

Placing your hand on his, you bring his palm to your lips and kiss it. “Love you too, Cheol. Love you so much.”

Your profession lights a fire in him that has his lips crashing into yours, his hips raising to thrust into you, an arm locked around your waist to keep you in position. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over you, consuming you until there’s nothing else.

“Cheol, aah, don’t stop” you plead, “So close.”

Seungcheol hammers into your sweet spot, sending you racing towards your high. Just as your walls begin to tremble he grabs your ass, lifting you up to leave only the tip of his cock pulsing in your core. “Cum for me, baby” he coos, slamming you back down and sending crashing over the edge.

Your juices cascade down his cock, nails digging into his shoulder as your walls cling to him. He cradles you in his arms, slowing his movements, letting you milk him of his own release. He coats your walls so deeply that you know you’ll be spending all night thinking of having him inside of you even when he isn’t and just imagining it is enough to get you hot all over again.

Keeping you close, he litters your face with kisses, whispering the sweetest praises as your body relaxes into his. You’ve never felt this loved by anyone. Never so safe and cared for. You have every intention to stay in this car as long as you can, finding heaven in the comfort of his arms, and nothing in this world could make him push you away.

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