𝘚𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘳 𝘉𝘰𝘺🍭𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘺

Ben 2;

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.💫

I'd not said yes, and I'd not said no.

But I had got the beer, which he didn't know was non alcoholic, heh.

And giving a man like Soldier Boy no definitive answer except a signature suck of my teeth and vague silence meant he thought I'd submitted and agreed to all his terms and whatever he wanted would happen right at that second.

He'd just have to look at me, bite his sassy, fat lips, say something gross and vaguely disturbing, then BOOM, Ghost was toast. 

Because he was Soldier Boy, so fuck you up the ass goddamit.

This shower was never a safe space.

Oh, I exfoliated, looking to the closed door regularly, giving myself a metaphorical slap on the chin for forgetting to close the window, crouching slightly as some random shirtless man and a woman in daisy dukes took a picture of the property.

But there was a more pressing issue than fans invading our drive, Ben was a creep and peep, and they called me a cougar. If he came in wearing nothing but his man robe it'd be a repeat of the sudden breeding kink he'd acquired in The Congo Basin and I don't think my back, crack or any other part of me open to his lack of personal space and respect of bodily autonomy could take it.

But yeah, I meant my vagina.

Not to mention I wasn't sure if today I would be a good girl or a dickless Commie bastard. He really went hard when he pulled my hair.

The fuck was the matter with him recently I didn't know, and I thought my ovulation horny was bad, he was ten times that, getting just...more, like seriously worrying. I was honestly scared.

There were times I wished he was ugly.

It used to be me biting his balls in the middle of the night like a female lion, drunk on oestrogen fuelled by V shots, down under the duvet on the one seam highway, claws in his soft inner thighs, tongue fuzzy with lightning as whatever enclosure we chose blanched with blinding white light while he lay and took it like moving would kill him, it was one of the few times I'd seen him wary and unwilling, 'a-uh, a-again?'

But that was back when I rebelled against his male dominance and sharing a single bed.

Now, fifteen times a week had turned into fifteen a weekend, steamy shit reserved for Saturday nights now happening on a Tuesday. He was built like a concrete house and Tylenol didn't work on me. 

"Startin' to walk funny, I can't cope." I turned the spray up, waterfall feature in full effect, the huge glass, walk-in cubicle rising with thick smoke while I moved on to the Magic Serum Clensing Collagen Full Plump Elixir Vought Edition, pointless considering I was frozen in time.

I felt bad being the face of this stuff, it was a lie, my seemingly eternal youth was down to being genetically modified by Nazis.

It didn't help we lived in the Malibu, teaming with 'perfect' families with their 'perfect' kids.