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cosmiclatte28 · 3 years

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Forced Marriage (Baekhyun, Sehun, you)

A/n : hey so this story was written last year when SuperM drama was out, but I never continue it and I just checked this again because of the WIP tag. (once again thanks to @yutahoes ) and I want to post this to see if actually there's still EXOL here who wants to read a fanfic

I will write the second part (ending) for this, after hearing if you want to end with who

tagging @yutahoes coz Sehun is a major role here hehehe and i don't really know other exols but @neopalette usually wants to read my fics (thanks honey!) and @swagmonsterofficial also could help

trigger warning: strict parents, old-classic ideology of arranged marriage

Here we go..

“Let’s get married, (y/n)!” The cheeky boy beside you blurts out and stops you in your track.

Your eyes widen, your steps taken to a halt, and his smile? His smile is still there.

“A wedding?” you turn your body to face him. Earlier you are walking ahead of him into the woods, running away from your parent’s “important talk”.

You live in the big house on the end of the road, where wilderness is still a thing. An hour ago, your parents told you to get dressed up as an important guest is coming, and you’re expected to look decent for lunch.

But here you are now, thirty minutes into the invitation, you’re walking in the woods with your best friend of a lifetime, or so you hope.

Baekhyun has been your neighbour since you moved in. His house is just one throw of pebble. Your bedroom window and his are face to face and that makes your friendship with him totally wonderful. When phones are not yet a thing, you don’t have trouble to see what he is doing at night, talking through written messages on a paper has been a way you two “chat” late at night.

Baekhyun nods his head and reaches for your hand, he guides you through his imagination of what he calls “our future small family”

“Yes, we will get married, in the same way you’ve always wished! In a garden, with a priest blessing our vows. You will wear your dream gown, with flower crowns like how you read in your princess tales! I got to pick you up in a carriage! Dad can work it out, what colour do you want for the carriage?” Baekhyun sounds so happy and innocent.

You hold yourself from tears, well he doesn’t know yet the reason why you run from your house’s back door to the woods. Baekhyun happens to see you run from his bedroom and he decides to follow you. You did not say anything, just replied to his surprising greeting with a surprised tone. Other than that, you’ve kept your mouth shut. Now it questions you why Baekhyun suddenly asks you for marriage.

“Umm why are you suddenly asking me this Baek?” a glint of hope reflects from this seeming normal question.

“Hmm maybe because I don’t want to lose you?” He shrugs playfully and swings the intertwined hands as he drags you for a deeper walk.

You think it is not a good idea to walk deeper, since you need to return after this if you did not want to end up with bruises.

“What kind of mind is that Baekhyun! I am here!” you try your best to sound happy.

He stops walking and faces you, gently he bends down to match your shorter height and he cups your face. “You know sometimes what we think won’t be gone, might be gone in a blink of an eye when one forgets to hold on tight.” He gives a small force to squeeze your cheeks and he giggles, ‘Hey since when did your cheeks lose their squishiness? You got thinner! Come join me for dinner mom can cook your favourite steak!”

Baekhyun did not know the reason you’re thinner is because you’ve skipped dinner. Fighting with your parents made you lock yourself in the room, skip dinner and lost appetite.

“Well, I’d love that but right now is not the time. Besides, what time is it Baek?” you ask him a new topic so you don’t have to answer his proposal.

Baekhyun glances at his analogue, “It’s ten minutes to twelve.”

You gulp and know you’re screwed. Returning to the house and dressing up will take some time and you’ll most likely show up at the dining table 15 minutes late. Like it or not, you have to go back now.

“Um Baekhyun I have some things to do, catch you later.” You quickly turn your heels and dash through the woods. Baekhyun frowns, but also follows your steps.

“Hey slow down! You’ll fall and get hurt.” Baekhyun yells to you, who is already a few steps ahead of him. This is so weird, you usually always ask him to accompany you, since you’ve once got lost in the forest. Come to think of it, you left by yourself today here. Why? That is unusual.

All these questions remain unanswered as Baekhyun sees you from the mouth of the forest, running to the back door and rushing all the way to your room.

You disappear from the veins covered gates of your backyard, and lonely Baekhyun takes the left path to his house. He smells the delicious lunch his kitchen is making. Well, as his stomach grumbles from hunger, Baekhyun tosses aside his problems and dash to wash his hands and dress for lunch.

Your expectation and calculation were accurate. You got to your room five minutes after twelve right at the time a car entered your porch. You quickly change your dress to the one your mother has prepared and as much as you hated laces, the dress was covered wit lace. You step to the mirror, tidy your look, powder up and brush your hair.

A hurried knock echoes in your room and your mother’s voice enters your room.

“Coming, wait a second.” You yell as you struggle to put on your shoes while making sure you look flawless already.

Once the door flies open, hey your mom knows how to pick locks, you’ve already forced a smile on your face, and she doesn’t look that mad.

“Nice, you didn’t disappoint me. Now gently do down, your fiancé is waiting for you in the dining room. Remember..”

You cut her in “No loud voice, no improper language, tidy eating manner, and agree on this thing.”

She smiles proudly at you and runs a soothing hand down your arm. “Hey, everything will be alright okay.”

You exhale a long breath and with a heavy heart, walks down the stairs to meet the man of your future.

If this was not reality, you would already run down the stairs with joyful steps to reach the man of your choice, sadly this is not your own story to write.

No, your father is dying and his last wish was to see you marry the guy he has set up for you. You remember what he said last week, “Please the man I’ve set for you will be a good man to continue the business I had started. Not that I don’t believe in you taking after, but he will be a good leader. His family also owns a strong business and together, you will live a good life. Trust me darling, I want this for your happiness.”

You remember him saying that to you, one cold night beside the fireplace when he invited you for a game of chess. You belong to the noble family; you have private teachers coming in to tutor you; unlike ordinary girls who need to stay home to cook and wash laundries. Chess is your dad’s favourite game and he always teaches you how to advance the game. Your heart tugs a little when his weak state flashes in your mind.

The last chess you played with him was that same time he proposed to you this whole arranged marriage idea.

You reach the last step of stairs and see the new family seated elegantly on the big table. Your father despite his weak state, still manages to look handsome. You spot the empty seat next to a tall man with strong face lines and a cold smile. He looks smart, strong, but lacks warmth and love. Your face shows a pretty smile, but deep inside your heart you’re crying as you can totally see your future won’t be different than what you have right now.

“Nice to meet you, Miss (y/n), I am Oh Sehun, your fiancé” He stands tall on his legs and after receiving your hand, he presses a light kiss on them. You greet him back and take your place beside him.

Lunch begins and all the time, you only open your mouth when direct questions are given to you. Sehun mostly takes over the questions about the wedding party, saying that he will let you choose what kind of party you want. You just nod and say you will think about it.

“Right, please make up your mind as soon as possible. The wedding will happen in 15 days and I hope we can get this over really quick.” Sehun’s father ends the talk of the wedding.

The choice of food for today was not your preferred dish. You only eat a small portion of the food and try your best to swallow this bitter lump.

Main course went well with Sehun getting engaged to business talks with your father and you were interrogated for your social life by his mother.

Luckily, your mother is there to help you lie. You’ve never really put yourself into the rich girl’s society, you’ve always lied to your mom. You lied about going to the social house, just to run away elsewhere with Baekhyun or simply attend last minute.

Strawberry panna cotta is your favourite dessert; however, today you cannot find the joy of sticking that sweet pudding into your mouth.

The suffocating tension grows thicker when you are sent to take Sehun for a walk to the festival reoccurring in the centre of the town.

Your mind is busy thinking of something, yes you remember Baekhyun is taking care of one event there. He is assigned by the Mayor to lead the talent show performance tonight. Now you remember there is no way you’ll meet him in the town with a new man by your side. He would totally rant to you for not telling him your new friend.

“Umm Sehun, can we go somewhere else instead.. I don’t think the festival is suitable for us to talk with one another. It’s loud.” You bite your lips nervously.

Sehun quirks his eyebrow, “Oh? Well then where should we go?”

His voice is icy and cold, even standing beside him sends shivers down your spine.

“We can go to the quiet hill a few miles from here, will it be okay?”

To your surprise he is okay with walking a few miles. You really think he would deny it and just ask you to talk here in the garden, but no, he didn’t waver at all.

So you begin your hike to the hill where you usually escape when your mind is not clear.

“And… this is it, the quiet place I always go when I have much in my mind.” You spin around once and smile when you close your eyes and feel the gentle breeze blowing.

Sehun takes off his mantle and lays it down for you to sit on. You looked puzzled and he chuckled at your confused face.

“I’m sure your mother wouldn’t want that dress to be dirty.” He helps you sit over his mantle and soon joins you down on the other side.

“Sorry for making you do this.” You point at his clothes and mantel, you did not expect going to the hill will cause him much commotion.

Sehun shakes his head and begins asking you questions to know you better.

“I know you did not like this marriage, but I will try my best to be a good husband.” Sehun said that to you, but things were not as beautiful as his promise.

Baekhyun enters his house and finds his dog already waiting for him

“Ah my sweet mongryong! You’re waiting for me!” Baekhyun kneels down to pet his excited puppy just to be run over and he ends up giggling on the floor.

“Baekhyun hurry up! Your brother and father are waiting for you! Go change to a clean shirt and wash your hand. Hurry or your plate will be clean!” His mother cheerfully kisses him and pushes him to change his attire.

Baekhyun laughs at the warmth this house can never fail to give him, he runs to his room on the second floor and quickly changes for a fresh linen. Just as he glances over to the mirror, he notices a foreign car on the porch of your front house. With a confused look, he tries to remember if you told him anything about a guest or a new tutor maybe.

The cheerful boy makes it to the dining table looking clean and handsome.

“Sorry for making you gentlemen wait and my beautiful mother too. Now shall we eat?” He grabs his utensils and a hearty lunch happens right at the same time as yours (the cold and tense one).

“Looks like our neighbour has a big news coming around!” his father starts the topic for today’s lunch.

Baekhyun’s ears perk up, “Oh yeah? A party? I thought they have their birthday already.”

His brother shakes his head, “No, something else. That car is new. We never see anyone visiting her in a fancy car.”

Baekhyun still enjoys his food, “Maybe a new tutor. She told me the last French tutor moved and her mother is busy looking for a new one.”

“Maybe…” his brother leaves a lingering statement and soon their discussion changes to the perfect seasoning their mother did on the food, or just random small talks.

“I am going to the town! I need to make sure the talent show will be perfect tonight!” Baekhyun bids farewell to the family as he takes his bike and pedals all the way to the town hall.

He can’t wait to meet you tonight in the town hall!

But Baekhyun didn’t meet you at all that afternoon. Instead he found another friend of his, Park Chanyeol.

“Hey! You’re by yourself? Not usual eh?” Chanyeol nudges his shorter friend, who is busy moving things around to set up the stage.

“Oh hi there Yeollie, well yeah It’s me and the team, who else are you expecting?” Baekhyun stops bending and straightens his back.

Chanyeol rolls his eyes, “I mean where is your girlfriend you always have by your side…”

Baekhyun secretly smiles but he shakes his head, “She’s not my girlfriend… we’re neighbours and yeah good friends, you miss her?”

Chanyeol awkwardly laughs, “No, I am not looking for her. Just feels weird… maybe she’s coming later. Now let me help you fix this place! We only have several hours to go!”

Baekhyun nudges off the odd feeling in his stomach. Come to think of it, you’re not the type to not come and help him. He tries to think that maybe your mother or father is acting up again.

You spend a good two hours of talking and planning with Sehun. As you feel wind more breezy and Sehun notifies you it’s almost tea time, you finally stand up from the ground and with the help of Sehun, you stretch your stiff body.

“It’s almost tea time.” Sehun says while putting on his mantle.

“Oh right… Will you join us for tea?” a question of formality.

You wish he would just reject it and go home, but no this guy accepts the offer.

You can only force another fake smile and return to the house.

“Great to see the two of you back on time for tea! We think it is a bit too late already for the Oh family to go home, so they might be staying for dinner and the night.” Your mother greets you and Sehun over the door.

Your mouth falls open and with one glare from your mother, you pull yourself back together. Before she can pull you inside the room, you quickly glance to your neighbour’s house and notice the lack of a bicycle. Hmm Baekhyun must already be in the festival.

Tea time is better since Sehun was called for a talk with your father and his. You are left alone with your mother and Sehun’s mother. The ladies engage themselves in a deep conversation of a recipe and you just sit there quietly. Pretending to listen to their fun discussion, while actually thinking how you will spend the night. There’s a very big probability that you are told to bring Sehun to the carnival and that means meeting Baekhyun. It is not a problem if you’re the only one, but coming with Sehun will be something deadly.

You’re not stupid. You know the feeling Baekhyun has for you. You know he was not 100% joking when he proposed earlier in the woods. You see how his eyes always show hearts when he is with you, you realize the protective voice he always has when you show up to him with fresh bruises. You may be over confidence, but his flirting game is a hint to you. You feel it, you too cannot lie that there’s something different you feel for him.

That night, you thank heaven for not sending you to the carnival. No, Sehun did go there, but you lie while feeling sick. Lucky, they bought your lie and let you rest at home. Sehun goes to see the town with his family, for you also learn today that he will move in here later on. This house will be for you and Sehun the day father passed. The Oh family is checking out the town and you… you’re now facing the floor while trembling in fear when your parents called you with that tone.

You enter the study room shaking. You can see what’s coming… seeing your dad seated on his big chair and a belt. The night will be long.

You earn fifteen tonight, for showing up late to the table, for not showing interest to Sehun, and for not being so lady-like or elegant.

“I thought we raised you nicely to be a lady with a class, but what’s that messy hair! I know you’re sneaking out again right?! There’s no way your hair will be like that if you take your one-hour preparation nicely.” He emotionally launches his belt to hit you. You’re standing up, tonight you did not let out a tear. Your lips are bleeding from the pressure your teeth do to ensure you’re quiet. No, you’ve run out of tears. You’re angry… not only did he force you to marry a boy you don’t know, but he was still picking on you.

“You know if the next time he comes here and you have not improved or put interest in him, you’ll meet another belt of mine. FIX YOUR MANNERS MISS. DON’T BE A DISGRACE!” He swings his last whip and leaves the room with a loud slam.

You fall to the carpet, curling yourself into a fetal position. No matter how many whippings you’ve grown up with, fresh bruise is always burning.

You lay down for a while, streaming your face with tears and as you hear the clock chimes seven, you know soon you’ll have to move to your room. The guest must never see what’s behind your dress.

You stare blankly into the wall, back facing the bright night sky shown from the window. It’s already 8.30, you hear the footsteps of people moving around the house. Great the guests must be here already. You remain silent in your room, hoping that your pain and fatigue can bring you to sleep quick. Laying down sideways to not touch the burning pain on your back and thighs.

Your eyes almost close and bring you to dreamland if not for the soft knock on your window. You peek from your shoulder and see Baekhyun’s window bright and he’s throwing you pebbles.

You did not turn on your lights, though Baekhyun can see your night lamp is still on. You feel like a jerk leaving him to work by himself tonight and not giving him any news at all.

The rock hits one to two times again and you finally turn the lights on and opens your curtain. There, you can see the brightest smile from your best friend blinding you.

Baekhyun raises a paper with a note

“SICK? YOU MISSED THE SHOW!”

You wince and try to reach for the board you’ve hidden under your bed. You open the curtain and flash your answer “GROUNDED”

That’s bullshit.

“OH? NEW CAR IS IT YOURS?” He shows you his board.

You hesitate, “A GUEST’S”

“SORRY. YOU OKAY?” he flashes his board up when he feels you’re not as quick as usual in replying.

“THE BELT’S OUT TONIGHT”

Baekhyun grits his teeth when he knows that code. He discovered your father’s bad habit of violence long time ago when you fell from a climbing tree and Baekhyun accidentally saw your scars and bruises. Since then, after you get punished, you usually run to his house and he will sneak you in and when you’re younger he would help you with healing and taking care of them. However as you mature, you only go to his house for mental support. Baekhyun used to promise he would bring you away from your violence father and he promised you to start a healthy family like his.

“We can start a healthy family! I can be a loving dad… I never hit people! I am raised to be a gentle man. I shall never raise my hand to any girl or child or anyone!” He once told you that with fires in his eyes, promising you he will get you out of that hell.

“WANNA COME OVER?” He flashes his board after thinking for a while, why did you earn whipping. Coming late to lunch must not be a big deal right? Unless…

Baekhyun shakes his head, trying to get rid of the silly idea he has in his mind.

“Is the guest so special?” he mumbles to himself.

“I DON’T THINK TONIGHT IS THE RIGHT TIME. SORRY ☹ AND THANKS” you raise your board the last time, before closing the curtains and shutting off the lights.

Baekhyun keeps his eyes on your window for a longer time, he doesn’t want to miss it if you’re sneaking out. But five minutes with no action, Baekhyun gives up and closes his curtain too soullessly.

The conversation he had with Chanyeol earlier lingers in his mind.

“Hey Baek, have you ever seen that man before?” Chanyeol points to a tall figure dressed nicely in an expensive coat. Taking time to stroll from one stand to another, seeing things and trying things.

“Hmm nope. Must be a visitor! He looks so expensive right Yeol?”

“Uh-hum, who can have that kind of guest here….” Chanyeol regrets saying that part out loud, for the slightly surprised look on Baekhyun's face is enough to make Chanyeol feels guilty.

In Baekhyun's mind, suddenly flashes the expensive car parked on your house porch.

“Must be Suho’s” Chanyeol quickly covers up his mistake and pushes Baekhyun away to start the talent show.

tbc

yes or no??

#exo series #baekhyun x you #baekhyun x reader #sehun x you #sehun x reader #baekhyun angst #exo angst #exo scenarios #chanyeol fanfic #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun scenario #sehun scenario #sehun imagine #baekhyun series #sehun series

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key-smut · 6 years

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Kibum the Professor

Yeh it’s been a while but here you go~

Warnings: Smut after the cut so don’t continue reading if you’re uncomfortable with that

Tags: Professor AU, fluff, smut, side!jongtaeki

Thank you so much @minghaoluvr8 for beta reading it ^^

“Stop starring he’ll notice if you can’t get your eyes under control.” Your friend and roommate Taemin interrupted your thoughts while you were staring at your professor.

“I’m not staring I’m concentrating on the lecture.”

“I’m sure you are. Because society is sooo interesting. I’m not blaming you. If I had the chance I’d tap that ass.”

“TAEMIN!” you hissed in his direction some of the people in class turning around. “Just for your information; i actually DO enjoy social studies. If you haven’t forgotten, I wanna write my bachelors degree about how our society is being impacted by-“

“Sure, sure.” he interrupted, “ Whatever, but you have to admit that professor Kim is very attractive.” Taemin was right. Professor Kim was everything anyone would ever want: he was handsome, smart and charismatic. He would first catch everyone’s attention by the way he dressed and then capture everyone with his looks and personality.

“Yeah you’re not wrong. He’s the full package.”

“He sure has a big package.”

“FRANCESCO!”

When class was finally over and you were getting ready to leave you heard your name: “Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” Professor Kim said. “Uh oh, someone’s in trouble. I’m jealous.” Taemin teased.

“See you later Taemin.” With that he left the classroom and you and the professor were alone.

“Professor Kim if this is about me being loud in class I sincerely apologize-“

“No. I mean kind of.”

“Please don’t sue Taemin for sexual harassment.” He laughed, “I won’t but, please listen. I would like to talk about your thesis if you don’t mind? Maybe at a cafe whenever you’re free? As you know I’ve been working on my masters in education since I’m not a real professor yet, and I think I could help you out with your bachelors thesis. Our subjects are kind of similar and I have lots of sources that could be helpful for you.”

With that it began. You started meeting up at Cafés as you were both working on your papers. Today you were sitting at a Café close to your campus. Kibum was as stylish as ever, wearing the classical young professor look, except he made it look modern and fresh. You looked up from your notes and saw him smiling at you.

“Stop flirting with me or I’ll get fired.”

“I didn’t say anything? And last time I checked you were the one flirting with me, Kibum. Besides maybe I wouldn’t mind it if you’d get fired?”

“You would surely miss looking at my ass.” Kibum answered quickly. You choked on the ice tea you were drinking.

“I-“ you stumbled, trying to make up an excuse. He chuckled at how quickly you were flustered.

“I was just kidding, but your face tells me I was right. So maybe I will get fired.” You’d lie if you’d say that you didn’t want anything more from this relationship but he was right. If they’d get caught he’d get fired and you could never live with that.

“Listen Kibum. I’ve been meaning to tell you this, but I guess you already know. I really like you and I’m trying hard to control myself since I’m your student, and this can’t happen.” Kibum looked at you smiling.

“Yeah I know. And I’ve been having feelings for you too. But as you said it can’t happen. At least, not now.”

“What do you mean? I thought you were staying in your position until at least the end of the year?”

“Yeah but I’ve checked out my courses for next semester and I won’t be teaching the social studies course anymore, meaning that I won’t teach you anymore.” He hinted.

“For real? That’s great! I mean. Not really since I’ll miss you as my professor but... yeah. To be honest... I’ve never been more exited for a semester to end.” You smiled at Kibum, him grinning back. “Me neither.”

Back at home you were happily sitting on your couch looking at your phone when Taemin came in.

“Oh my god are you texting him again? Wait why are you smiling so much? Did he finally fuck you on his desk?” You rolled your eyes at his comment while he was sitting down next to you.

“No Taemin there is nothing to be jealous about.” you retorted

“I’m not jealous. I’ve been talking to someone myself and I’m pretty satisfied. Can’t say the same for you or can I?” He checked your body from your head to your feet. “Hmm can you get me some water please?”

“Why can’t you get it yourself?” you complained.

“I just sat down and I’m tired.” he whined.

“Whatever.” You got up to get him some water but got interrupted after two steps.

“Wait it’s fine, you can sit down again.”

“Taemin what the hell.” you weren’t sure where he was going with this.

“Watch your words young lady! I was just checking on something. But, I guess ya’ll either really didn’t fuck yet, or he got no game.” he joked, a dumb grin on his face when you hit him with a pillow.

The semester finally ended and between all the exams, you were barely able to meet with Kibum. Today was the last day of the semester and you had decided to eat at his place for your first official date. When he opened his door you were not surprised at how chic his apartment was decorated. It was essentially simplistic and modern; except it had many decorations that reflected his personality perfectly: from the Disney figures, to his Union Jack refrigerator it perfectly displayed his individuality. You were greeted by his smile, and his two dogs. After you greeted the dogs you looked at him. He was wearing a simple light blue shirt and glasses you had never seen before.

“You wear glasses?”

“Oh yeah I forgot about them. I usually just wear them at home.” He hurriedly took them off to put them away.

“Oh please don’t, you look really cute with them.”

He blushed slightly. “Maybe I don’t wanna look cute. Maybe I wanna look mysterious and sexy.”

“That shirt and your tight pants are already doing that job for you. They accentuate your shoulders to hip ratio very well.” you complimented. He did look really good, it was almost illegal.

“Well if that’s the case maybe we should skip dinner and go straight to bed.” He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned.

“You sure are straightforward. But, you kept bragging about your cooking skills, and now I wanna try the food you made.” there was a playful tone to your voice.

“Alright we have all summer break to have fun now, anyways.”

He had made a delicious chicken curry with a side of mashed potatoes instead of traditional rice and served Panna Cotta with mango sauce as dessert.

“Wow that was delicious! What can’t you do?” your praise making him blush once again.

“I’m pretty bad at baking.” he admitted.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well, believe what you want baby girl.”

After the summer break had passed, you decided to visit your now boyfriend in his classroom. He was now teaching 2nd semester students which means he wasn’t teaching you anymore, since you were in your last year.

“Hey baby, did you finish your class well?” It was noon and most students would be out eating lunch now. “Yes first class went great I let them go earlier since we only had to talk about the syllabus. What about you, honey? Are you finished for today?”

“Yeah, I’m finished and exhausted already although it’s just the first day. I miss seeing you as my professor” You pouted. He took your hands and pulled you closer. “I miss you too baby. Maybe I should help relax you a bit then?” He took you by your hips and sat you on his desk.

“What exactly are we doing?” You asked, fully knowing what was going to happen. He came close to you and gave you a slow and deep kiss. You observed him, as he parted from you to walk over to the door. He stoped and turned around to look at you.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, professor.” He locked the door and walked towards you undoing his tie.

“You don’t know how often I’ve dreamed about this.” He stepped closer until he was standing between your legs, you sitting on the edge of his desk.

“Probably at least as often as I have, Kibum.” He came closer again connecting your lips as he put his hands on your thighs to pull himself closer. He moved up from your lips to your ear and nibbled a bit on the lobe, just to move back down to your collarbones. He sucked on the underside of your collarbone until a mark was blooming. You let out a small moan when he liked the mark.

“Take off your shirt.” You took off your shirt and started unbuttoning his as well while his hand slowly made its way under your skirt to your panties.

“You’re wearing a skirt at the perfect time.”

“One could say that I had all this planned out.” You grinned at him, taking off your bra while he was unbuckling his pants. “Lay down baby girl.” You laid down on the desk while he positioned himself between your legs again. He bent down and slowly sucked on your left nipple while pulling down your panties.

“Be quiet. Or I’ll need to punish you.” With that, he put his thumb on your clit and started circling it slowly. You were able to handle that but after the second finger had entered you, your moans started to get louder. “I told you to be quiet, was I not clear enough?”

“Yes, you were. Sorry, professor.” He gave no warning when, suddenly, his head was between your legs. His tongue was doing magic on your clit while his fingers were moving faster and curling inside you.

“Oh god, please, I’m so close. I can’t-“ You let out a high, pitched moan as you reached your orgasm while he was lapping up all your mess. He stood up again, his lips glistening from your juices. You watched him as he licked his lips. “Lick my fingers clean, and prepare for your punishment. If anyone has heard you, you better get ready for when we’re home.” Opening your mouth, you took in his fingers, sucking on them while looking up in his face. “Now we gotta do something about those beautiful noises of yours.” Kibum took his tie and put it in your mouth, making you bite on it and tied it behind your head. “First punishment: you won’t suck my dick. At least for now. Don’t give me those eyes, I know you want it but, a punishment is a punishment. Besides, it’s hard on me too. Second punishment: you won’t be able to noisy anymore. Third punishment comes now. Turn around.” You turned around, laying on your stomach now, when you felt the first sharp slap on your ass. A moan muffled by the tie came out of your mouth. “This is a punishment, it’s not for your pleasure. Why are you moaning?” His hand met your ass for another couple of times until it was stinging and tinted red. You heard him pulling down his pants and boxers, then you felt his hard cock between your legs.

“Please...” Your muffled plead didn’t go unnoticed. “Someone’s impatient, relatable.” With that he slowly entered you, grabbing you by your hips. You felt yourself being filled and he didn’t stop until he was fully in you. “How are you still so tight? We’ve been fucking all summer!” Kibum started pulling out and pushing in again at a steady pace, getting faster and faster, holding on to your hips harder; you knew it would bruise.

“Oh, fuck.” He let out a moan and started playing with your clit again, while hitting your spot at the same time. “Cum, baby girl.” The second he said it, you came undone seeing white stars your mind going blank. Kibum hit his high just shortly after with another deep moan, as you felt his cum filling you up. He pulled out his cock and you felt his cum leaking out of you dripping down your thighs were a tongue started to lick it up. You turned around and took

off the tie just to be met by Kibum’s lips. He pushed his cum into your mouth with his tongue, causing you to moan into the kiss. Your lips parted, a thin string of saliva and cum connecting your mouths.

“We just finished, but I wanna go again.” You smiled. “Baby girl, lunch time is almost over. We need to leave first and then we can do whatever we want.”

At home you saw Taemin laying on the couch as you walked by.

“There hasn’t been a day now that I’ve seen you not limp. If you two,” he pointed at Kibum “especially you, don’t get yourself under control, she is going to end up needing a new hip sooner than later. Haven’t you gotten tired of it after summer break?”

“Taemin look who’s talking, huh? I’ve heard you many nights having fun with that musician kid and that theatre guy and I said nothing.” you bit back playfully.

“Yeah but we’re interesting. I don’t get straights.”

“Who said we were straight?” Kibum remarked. Taemin looked at Kibum dead in the eye for a minute until he turned looking at you “Alright, I like him, he’s approved. Now watch a movie with me I’m bored.” he whined, you knew that they’d get along just fine.

#key #shinee #key fluff #key smut #shinee fanfic #shinee key #kpop smut #key x reader #kinkey thoughts

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mellicose · 6 years

Text

That Woman Over There - Chapter 16

A You Me and Him Fix-it Fic

Rating: Teen, for some profanity and mature themes

Word count: 4880

Warnings: none

Summary: ~ Set after the birth of Monty, Olivia’s baby ~ A dear friend of Olivia comes to visit for a week, and she disturbs the fragile peace between her, Alex, and John.

He ran back upstairs, beaming. “Got a really nice table, and they’ve got the oxtails simmering as we speak,” he said, and kissed her cheek noisily.

“Same place?” she said.

“No … did you want to go again? I can give ‘em a call if you like.”

“No,” she said. “It’s nice it’s not the same restaurant.” She shrugged. He smiled and wrapped his arms around her.

“We had our first kiss there. Is it because it’s, kinda, 'our place' now?”

She groaned. “Are we going to be the ‘our song’, ‘our park’, ‘our breakfast cereal’ type of couple?”

“So we’re a couple?” he said, lifting her off her feet.

“I mean, two people with things in common who enjoy each other’s company…” she said.

“In myriad ways,” he purred into her ear.

“Go on,” she said, wrapping her legs around him.

“I could, but it’s mostly because we had our little crispy potato date there, right?”

She nodded. He gently let her down and ran back downstairs without another word. She followed, and he nearly knocked her over trying to get back up the stairs. He held a long, flat box.

“What’s that?”

He handed it to her. “I saw it in the window and it just screamed you.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and waited as she sat on a step and opened the box. Nestled in marbled pink tissue was the most lovely dress she’d ever seen.

“Oh my God,” she said, shaking it out. It was a gleaming shade of yellow. She popped up and pressed it against her body. “It’s so gorgeous!” She ran upstairs and stripped quickly in his bedroom.

“Let me help you zip,” he said. The zipper went up easily until he reached the top.

“Oof! Let me just-” she pressed her breasts to her chest. “Okay, try now.” It went up, but it was a tight fit. She turned and held her arms out. “Tada!” Her breasts were tempting mounds pushed high on her chest by the tailoring.

“Enticing,” he said, putting his hands on her waist. He turned her to the mirror. “You like?”

“It’s so … yellow,” she said, caressing the skirt down. The crinoline underneath to make it puff up made her legs itch, but it was nostalgic since her mom made her wear them when she was a girl. She wondered what she might say if she saw her now, in John’s arms. Would she tell her she looked beautiful? Would she notice how happy she was, or would she veer the conversation to her own pains?

“What are you thinking?” he said, looking at her face in the mirror. She snapped out of it and noticed the corners of her mouth pointed down. She gave him a radiant grin.

“Nothing important. I love the dress. It’s perfect. Really,” she said, and kissed him. She twirled a couple times for him, and the skirt spun high up on her thighs.

“Marilyn has nothing on you,” he said, sitting down to stare. She bounced on his lap and kissed him.

🌹🌹🌹

“This is only time you’ll see me sucking on a bone,” Alex said, giggling as she licked every last bit of sauce from the osso buco.

“Al!” Olivia said, shaking her head.

“You love it,” Alex said. She winked at her, and kept sucking.

“I’m absolutely stuffed. Thanks so much for dinner,” Olivia said as she spooned some rice gruel into Monty’s mouth.

“I love feeding you ladies,” he said, stretching and putting his arm over both Connie and Alex’s chairs. “It’s the least I can do, anyway, for your introducing me to Connie.”

“Uhuh,” Alex said. The stripped bone clicked on her plate. “So what’s the plan, Daddy Manbucks? What are you gonna do with your time now?”

He sighed and put his hands on his knees. “Well, first of all, I’m gonna make Mrs. Mulligan’s desk. I don’t know know much beyond that.”

“You’re a born computer nerd, man. You’re telling me you’re not gonna do anything else IT-related?” she said. She raised her hand to a passing waiter and asked for the dessert menu.

“Sure,” he said. “I have some embryonic thoughts about that, but for now, I want to enjoy the space I’m in for a bit.” She pulled Connie closer, and she turned and kissed him. Olivia’s nose twitched, but she remained silent.

“Fuck, I’d already be planning my 6 month stay at a surfing retreat in Costa Rica if I suddenly got hold of a couple million quid,” Alex said. Olivia’s eyes widened - it was impolite to speak about money that way. Alex patted her knee. “Of course you and Monty would be coming as well. Duh.”

“I’m a terrible surfer,” Connie said. “But the flora and the food there is gorgeous.”

“You’ve been?” Alex said, leaning in.

“We’ve been,” Connie said, pointing to Olivia.

“You saucy tart, why didn’t you tell me?” Alex said, nudging her. Monty giggled.

“It was right after graduating uni-”

Connie interrupted. “-It was a surprise, and I don’t think she would’ve come if I hadn’t told her we were going to Blackpool for the weekend.”

“Don’t think you were being terribly clever. You mentioned before hating Blackpool. That it was nothing compared to Caribbean beaches-”

“Eh, that’s a bit rude. I’ve had some lovely times in Blackpool,” John said, looking at Connie.

“I’m sure you have, mate,” Alex said, rolling her eyes.

“Not like that. It was one of the only places outside of Scotland my ma liked to go on holiday when I was a boy.”

Alex bit her lip. “Were people cruel? There’s no way to hide a brace at the beach,” she asked bluntly.

“Sometimes. But I was halfway used to it by then. A spin on the ferris wheel and a 99 and all pain was forgotten,” he said. “Now that I think about it, I haven’t gone in over a decade. That’s mad.”

“A bit of lager. A bit of gambling. Lots of pretty girls in bikinis,” Alex said nostalgically. She turned to Olivia. “We should go.”

“I don’t gamble,” she said, pulling Monty out of the high chair.

“Yeah you do,” Alex said. Olivia was confused. Alex’s mouth broke into a grin, and she began to sing softly. “If you change your mind, I’m the first in line…”

Connie laughed, and sang along. “Honey, I’m still free, take a chance on me…”

“If you need me let me know, gonna be around,” John sang in his rusty falsetto.

“If you’ve got no place to go, if you’re feeling down,” Alex sang, keeping the beat on the table. Olivia’s face reddened. She grabbed Alex’s hands as the maitre’d approached, obviously irritated by the noise.

“Is everything to your satisfaction?” he asked them in a nasal posh accent. His eyes darted from face to face, gauging sobriety.

“Brilliant, Jeeves. Could you fetch us another bottle of cham? Your finest bottle of Dom Perig-nawn, if you please,” Alex chirped.

John groaned.

The man breathed in slowly. “I will let your server know,” he said, and started walking away.

“Wait!” Alex said, holding her hand up. He did a crisp about face. “And the daily special - the panna cotta? One of those as well. Extra panna.” She looked around at them. “You want something?” They all shook their heads no. The man nodded, then left.

“Why did you have to give him so much trouble?” John said.

“One of my stepfathers was a maitre’d,” she said, sucking her teeth. “One of ‘em. He was an asshole.” She shrugged.

“Then you should know it’s a good idea to be nice to the people who serve you,” Connie said. “Kaylie’s husband is a restaurateur in New York. You wouldn’t believe what even the high end places get into,” she shook her head. “That’s why I pray before I eat.”

“I didn’t hear you say grace tonight,” Alex said.

“I did it silently,” Connie said, and winked at her. She reached over to squeeze her hand. “I’m sorry your stepfather was such a jerk,” she said, and kissed it. Alex was disarmed by the easy affection.

“He wasn’t a creep or anything,” she said. “Just … he was bitter and horrible to my mam. He wasn’t even that fit either, but she thought it was nice that he served all the posh mucky mucks in town. I eventually told her it wasn’t contagious,” she said. “Oh, and speaking of mucky mucks, you all set for LA?” she asked Connie.

“I was. I think. A lot has happened in the last couple of days,” she said. “It’s crazy busy, and I have to be hyper-focused.” She rubbed her face.

“I think you ruined her focus, John,” Alex said, and chuckled.

“I’m sorry,” he said, hugging her.

“Don’t ever be sorry. It’s just been a while since I’ve been in this particular headspace,” she said, smiling at him.

“Oooh,” Alex said softly, and poured the last of the champagne in her glass.

“Darling, could you hold Monty? I’ve got to-” Olivia pointed toward the restroom.

“Me too,” Connie said, and stood with her. “I’ll be right back,” she said to John.

“I wait with bated breath,” he said, and kissed her.

“Cornball,” she said, and followed Olivia.

🌹🌹🌹

Alex bounced Monty on her knee. “So, it’s going well?” she said.

“Yeah,” he said simply, and put his elbows on the table. “It’s strange. It’s been … so easy.”

Alex snorted. John rolled his eyes. “So what’s up your snout?” he asked. They could both play that game.

“How do you mean?”

“You’ve been … I can’t even put my finger on it, but… it’s like you don’t like her.”

“Are you asking for approval? I gave you the keys to the kingdom. Do you think I would do that if I thought she was a bitch?” He winced at the word, and her face softened.

“She’s nice,” he said, but the inflection of his voice demanded approval.

“Why do you care what I think anyway? At least, after Alfie?” she said.

He shivered. “That got weird quickly,” he said. “You still talk to her?”

“After you shagged, she told you that she felt like she had sort of shagged me too, through you. What do you think?”

They laughed, and he stole a sip of her champagne. He was glowing in a way she had never seen, and she didn’t quite know why it discomfited her. He tried to break her and Olivia up, and after truly getting to know him, it was not something he would’ve done had he not felt very strongly for her…

He coughed, then drank down the rest of the champagne as the server came with a fresh bottle and poured them both a glass.

“To new beginnings,” he said, holding his glass up.

“To lasting friendship,” she said, and clinked it.

They took a sip and he smiled. “It was a very good year. You’ve got excellent taste.”

“If it’s on you, absolutely,” she said, and winked. He looked impatiently around for Connie, and it filled her with bittersweetness. There was once a time, not so long ago, where he might’ve done the same thing for her. She told him in no uncertain terms that it was not what she wanted, but he choss to stay and be a friend to her and Olivia. And it was nice, after everything that happened, to have him near. She wasn’t an island. Her pain was his pain.

But ever since he set eyes on Connie, he was gone. She felt it in her bones. She knew the look well - she had seen it on too many men’s faces while growing up. They would come, get what they wanted from her mam, play house for a bit, but once the game got stale they were off to the next one.

“What are you mulling?” he said, sucking foam from his glass.

“John, I’m sorry,” she said. She looked down at the amber bubbles.

“Why?” he said, looking at his cellphone for the time.

“I was a jerk to you when we first met. I’m sorry about that, but you were such an overeager douchelord poser - a giant, too wide-smiling, mouthbreathing dorkass nerd-”

“Okay,” he said, smiling.

“-A too tall, too skinny, too clever pseudo-dweebling who was trying way too hard to be anyone but who you-”

He grabbed her wrist lightly and squeezed. “I think I get it now. You really don’t need to continue.”

She looked at his hand. His touch was just as gentle as it ever was, but not quite as warm. Not anymore.

“It would’ve been nice,” she said quickly, and swallowed.

“What?” he said.

“If we had Jo. You would’ve been a great father,” she said, her brow furrowing with passion. He squeezed her hand.

“Thanks, Al,” he said. “You would’ve been the most beautiful, fun ma ever. You will be, I mean. Right?” he said.

“I suppose. We might try after I finish school,” she said. He still held her hand. He squeezed again.

“Brilliant!” he said excitedly.

“Yeah,” she said, but her eyes didn’t rise from the champagne flute.

“Would you have been okay with sharing with Liv, if Jo was here?” she said.

His eyes grew. The wine was making her almost too frank.

“I would’ve had to, right? Outside of being the best father I could to her, I had no other choice in the matter,” he said. He eyed her. Her cheeks were rosy with wine, and black kohl bled around her lovely blue eyes. She looked … stressed. He felt something in her. Something different. “Right?” he repeated, trying to get her to look at him.

“I’ve always been so sure about what I wanted. At least when it came to women,” she said, letting out a chuckle. “I was the friendly neighborhood lezza since I was 12. I liked that role. It was … rebellious. I felt better than my mam, and all the silly girls going after their lame little pashes at school. Ugh,” she said, shaking her head. “Disgusting, smelly lot, teen boys are. They never did anything for me. Not that I felt the need to try, even for the sake of science.”

He laughed.

“It was the one thing I could count on about myself. That knowledge. Even when I didn’t really know what I wanted to do in my life, I knew I wanted to do pretty girls,” she said.

“I think you said that already,” he said jokingly. “I agree wholeheartedly. About the girls, at least. And maybe a bit about the teenage boys. Smelly creatures.”

“I bet you weren’t smelly,” she said, drinking deep.

“I beg to differ,” he said. “I might not have gotten around much then, but I had a heady stink,” he said. “My ma complained constantly about it.”

“Too topical, mate,” she said, smiling.

“Then what are you trying to say?” He said.

Her belly muscles were trembling. Why was she so goddamned contrary? Who else could she tell but him? She had been thinking about it for weeks when Olivia told her Connie was coming to visit. She thought nothing of it then, and that besides the possible drama, nothing would change. But everything had changed. She heard Connie’s tears before their little talk, and knew intimately how she felt, and why she cried. But she had to cry her tears on her own. How could she confide such a thing to Olivia, and after everything that happened, to big, nerdy, lovely John?

“Do you regret what happened, that night at your divorce do?” she said. “Do you even remember it?”

“Not much. We slammed a bottle of vodka between the two of us.” He sounded casual, but his senses were tingling.

“Didn’t affect you much,” she said. Her cheeks burned.

“What is this talk?” he said, trying to keep it light.

“I honestly don’t know anymore, man,” she said. “But I remember. I was wasted, but I didn’t black out.”

John looked around again, then texted Connie. “They are taking their sweet bloody time in the loo,” he said.

“Maybe Connie’s got diarrhea. You know, the nervous squirts,” she said.

He wrinkled his nose. “I hope not,” he said. “Where were we? You don’t know ... something.”

“I remember that night well,” she said. “How angry I was at Olivia. And how you looked at me. Lecherous twat.”

“My mother raised me right, but I have limits. Your shirt was see-through.”

“It was in style,” she said.

“Uhuh,” he said. “Is this a consent issue? Do you feel okay about what happened?” he said, concerned.

“Naw, man, I ran up those stairs. You didn’t force it for a second,” she said. The tremble had moved to her hands. He hugged himself. She wasn’t usually so circuitous in her speech.

“Right,” he said.

She drank the glass of champagne in two gulps and sighed. “I didn’t hate it, I’ll tell you that.”

“Alright, maybe that’s enough of the good stuff for you,” he said. He reached for the bottle, but she grabbed his wrist.

“John, something’s different. And I don’t know who to tell. Can’t call Alfie. Can’t tell Olivia. In fact, I don’t think it’s even relevant. Or is it? I don’t fucking know,” she ran her fingers through her hair with frustration.

“What’s going on? You were just telling me this morning how well things were getting again. In vivid detail,” he said, raising his brows high. “I don’t like seeing you like this. Talk to me.”

“I’m still in my 20’s. I lost a child, and I’ve got a lovely fiancée and a baby and a nice house in the suburbs. Just three years ago, even the thought of those things was thousands of miles away from my comfort zone, but I’ve adjusted. That’s life, right?”

“I suppose so,” he said. Her hand trembled on his wrist.

“And the hits just keep on comin’,” she said, giving him a plaintive look.

“We’ve done pretty damn good regardless, right?” he said. His face broke into a warm grin as he spied Connie walking up behind her.

“Everything come out okay?” Alex said.

“The bathroom was so nice it felt more like a posh dressing room,” Connie said, sitting beside John with a sigh.

“I guess we had a bit of a chat,” Olivia said, picking up Monty. “Since we haven’t had much time to talk lately.” She gave John a mock grave look.

“I’ve selfishly stolen her away,” he said, pouring her a glass of champagne. He shot Alex a look, but her face had settled back to cheeky loveliness. He couldn’t make out what she was trying to tell him, and he was unused to having to try.

The waiter came with the panna cotta, and Monty squealed with glee.

“You can’t have any,” Olivia said, shaking her head at the baby.

“Come on. Let him have a tiny taste,” Alex said, holding up the silver dessert spoon.

“You also fed him a tiny taste of cream yesterday at the party,” Olivia said.

“And?”

“The diaper changes were a horror. He’s not ready for it yet,” she said.

“I was eating spagbol before I could get a sentence out,” she said, waving her hand. “He can have a bit of pudding.” He waved it in front of the baby’s eager mouth.

Olivia pushed the spoon away. “He’s my son. And I said no.”

Alex dropped the spoon in the glass bowl. “Of course. Your son. How dare I intercede?”

“I think it’s time we headed out. We’ve been here for over two hours, and Monty looks wiped,” John said.

“That’s the best idea you’ve had all night,” Alex said sardonically, and rose.

“You can go on ahead. I’ll pay and be right behind you,” John said. “Thanks for joining us for dinner. I love you all.” He kissed Monty and gave Alex another look. He knew they had to finish the conversation she started.

🌹🌹🌹

He was quiet on the drive back. Connie put her hand on his knee, and he picked it up and kissed it.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said.

“It was my pleasure,” he said. “Did you like the place?”

“It was beautiful,” she said. Although they were still new, she could feel that he was deep in his thoughts. “Alex and Olivia were a bit interesting at the end. Does that happen often?”

“Not as much anymore,” he said.

“Oh.” She sighed and looked out the passenger’s side window. “It’s growing pains. They’ll go away,” she said, but her voice faded to nothing.

“Olivia likes things just so. I guess the same applies to her son,” he said. “It makes sense.”

“Hmm,” she said. “It’s not that cut and dried.”

“She carried him,” he said.

“She did,” Connie said, but she wouldn’t look at him.

“What’s wrong?” he said, and hissed at the frustration in his voice. First it was Alex with her cryptic speech, then Olivia, and now Connie.

“It’s … not easy. To hear that, all the time, when you’re doing the best you can. My son. My daughter. Not stated like the fact it is, but as control.” She looked at him, and sadness made her eyes shine. He caressed her. “After all they’ve been through, I’m surprised Olivia would say it that way.”

“Are you, though?” he said. He wasn’t trying to be rude. Her behavior was just on par with who he knew Olivia to be. A bit high-strung. A bit snappish. But ultimately kind.

“I don’t know,” she said. “She’s a mom now. Of course she changed.”

“But you sound surprised,” he said, rubbing her knee. “Tell me what’s wrong.” He had said that way too many times tonight. He hoped she might actually do it.

“It’s, uh...” she shrugged. “Ella did it to me. Whenever she wanted to really stick the knife in deep. She would use the word my, and not our, despite our shared life. My Poppy. My girl.”

“Poppy was her girl. But you were raising her together, right?”

“Were raising,” she said. “Until she decided we weren’t working out, and took her away. It’s excruciating. And cruel.”

The atmosphere was getting heavier, but he didn’t know how to respond.

“I just can’t believe Olivia said that,” she said. He shrugged.

“How would you feel if Josie was here, and after a while, Alex requested that you give her up for adoption?”

He shook his head. “Impossible. It would be a hard no.”

Connie nodded quietly. “So you think that your feelings would make a difference?”

“They better. She was my daughter. My blood. I wouldn’t sign shit,” he said, squirming with discomfort. “What’s your point?”

Even if her and Olivia got married, Alex would never do something like that, would she? Take his daughter away, make her call him uncle or some such nonsense? He snorted. Nah. She wasn’t like that.

She looked at his changing facial expressions as he thought things through. When they pulled into the driveway, the whole mood had changed to silence. She sighed as he helped her out of the car.

“I think I should go talk to Olivia,” she said.

“Of course. We don’t have to spend every waking moment together,” he said. “It’s been a really intense 24 hours.”

“True,” she said, but she squeezed his hand. “Can I knock on your door after I’m done? Or do you prefer to be alone tonight?”

He squeezed back. “Knock. Please.”

As she jumped the low hedge, a raindrop stung on her shoulder. Two more landed on her cheek and dripped off her chin.

“Looks like rain,” he said, his hands in his pockets.

“Considering how perfect it’s been for the last three days, it’s about time,” she said. She waved, and walked into the house.

🌹🌹🌹

“If he’s so much your boy, keep im’ then!” Alex yelled, and slammed the back door.

She stomped around the garden, trying to get her head together. No matter how hard she tried to explain why what she said hurt her, she would not be moved. Olivia didn’t think she had done anything wrong.

John ran around and hopped the ledge. “I heard that all the way from the kitchen. You okay?” he said. She walked across to his yard and sat on his back steps.

“I don’t know. I really, truly don’t know. It’s like, everything’s happening at the same time and I can’t process it,” she said, hugging her knees. He went inside for a blanket and put it around her shoulders. It was getting chilly.

“Talk to me,” he said. She looked at him, and the heavy, expensive watch hanging off his wrist. He’d worn it especially for his date, since he never wore a watch. Why did that make her heart wrench with tenderness? Her throat burned with it.

She shot up. “That sugar and cham has got me wired as fuck. Let’s take a walk. I need to burn this off,” she said, and started down the driveway.

“Wait! Let me get-” he ran inside for an umbrella, then caught up to her on the sidewalk. She walked resolutely, her arms pumping at her sides. He opened the umbrella over her and tried to keep up.

She turned the corner, headed toward the high street. A giggle bubbled from her lips, then she shook her head.

“What did Olivia say?” he said. He was going at a jog to keep up with her.

“I don’t want to talk about Olivia,” she said. Her blue eyes were burning.

“Okay,” he said. The walked a block in silence. The rain got heavier, and soon cold water dripped off the side not covered by the umbrella. But he kept the umbrella high over her head.

She stopped suddenly. “Why didn’t you tell me first?”

“Tell you what first?” he said. He was beginning to shiver.

“About selling your site. Why’d you tell Connie first?”

“I don’t know. I tried to tell you like 10 times, but it seemed like something else more important would come up. Also, I didn’t want to steal her thunder.”

“Pfft,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Ms. Posh Diplomat has enough thunder for a hundred years.” She started off again. Rainwater turned her short blond hair to dripping spikes on her neck.

“Did she say something to you?” he said. It was hard to keep up with her, and she was getting wetter than him.

Alex thought back on the talk they had last night, before she went to him. On her questions. She had to basically spell out the fact that John was honestly the best bloke on the planet. What kind of horsecockery is that? If she couldn’t see it, she didn’t deserve him. But she was refined and pretty and successful in a way she would never be. Of course it was easy for her to-

“You’re talking, but I can’t hear you, Al,” he said over the roar of the rain. She had been moving her lips.

“Of course it’s easy for a woman like that to get what she wants,” she said. “Ms. fucking perfect,” she hissed. Hot tears cut through the cold on her cheeks.

“No one’s perfect. But I have to admit, I’m pretty close,” he said, trying to get a rise out of her. Surely, she would throw a couple of insults his way, and then maybe she would tell him what was eating away at her. But she just gave him a wounded look and walked faster.

“You’re getting soaked,” he said helplessly, and looked down at himself. He was drenched. With a sigh, he closed the umbrella and slung it over his shoulder. She sat down on a bench under a young oak and looked out on the street. It was getting late, and the lights were disappearing as the shops closed. He sat down beside her and pulled the blanket from her shoulders, wrung it out, then put it back. Black bled down her cheeks, and her narrow lips were clenched with emotion.

“We are going to get so ill,” he said, wincing as fat droplets plinked on his skull from the leaves above. The street in front of them shone molten gold in the lamp light. “And, even worse, anyone who passes will think us completely mad.”

“You could’ve texted me. Called me. Taken me aside,” she said softly. “But I really would’ve liked it if you told me first.”

He rubbed her shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Al. I didn’t think it was such a big deal-”

“Not a big deal?” she said, looking at him incredulously. “You did something huge.”

“Big, yes, but hardly-” he started, but she punched his thigh.

“You moved beyond. You grew the fuck up. I knew you weren’t that self-involved, affected jerkwad,” she said. “I thought we were friends.”

“We are. Best friends,” he said, taking her hand. “Way more than best. You’re one of the best human beings I know, and nearly the mother of my firstborn.”

She took a shivering breath. “Then why didn’t you insist?” she asked.

That’s it. What she had been hinting at all night. His mouth dropped open.

Next Chapter

#That Woman Over There #you me and him #David Tennant #fan fiction #alex/john #John + Connie #Alex + Olivia #fluff turns to high drama #because life isn't a crystal stair

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nothingofvaluewaslost · 4 years

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STORY: The Silhouette Pine

A short story. After her grandmother’s death, Jennifer is distraught at the thought of the house she remembers from happy childhood holidays being sold. However, when she tries to convince her mother to hand the house to Jennifer and her boyfriend, she stumbles upon something much darker from her past.

Not horror (or anything supernatural), but quite dark.

As usual, if you enjoyed it, feel free to check out my Patreon.

The Silhouette Pine

By Christina Nordlander

By the time they got back from the funeral buffet, it had started drizzling. Mum parked behind grandma's pale yellow VW. Jennifer looked out at the back window and saw only the reflection of their bonnet. She and Joakim had been in the back seat when grandma drove them into the city. If she focused she would feel the smell of tobacco smoke and leather, so old it had become something concrete and grainy.

She got out and hurried her steps to be close to mum in case she needed someone to support her. It wasn't necessary, and dad was next to her. Mum walked with her head a bit bowed, but there was nothing weak in the outline of her face.

Joakim had run ahead up the garden steps, two sets of steps with a flagged landing in the middle where Jennifer had slipped and busted her lip one winter. She couldn't remember the pain, just that uncle Gunnar had joked with dad that she'd been in a fight and that they should have seen the other guy.

Grandma had come to the door and hugged her every time they'd gone here: shorter than herself the last few years, with woollen scarves in warm colours around her shoulders when it was the least bit cold, perfumed with a stronger version of the scent that was diffused through the house. (Mum was still going to have to feel it, though the body that had walked around in its centre was gone.) It was too easy to deal with when it was a relative you'd only met on the holidays. She'd been old and it had been quick. The last time Jennifer had met her, last Easter, she'd been happy. She'd asked how the dissertation was coming along. Jennifer hadn't brought her notes, but she'd talked about viruses and horizontal gene transfer like an enthusiastic little kid showing off a shell collection, and grandma had said that she was doing well.

There was nothing special about the size or architecture of the house, though the basement had been exciting when she was little: it was a largish terraced house, single storey, with a flat black tin roof and a little atrium covered with a wooden deck. The price was probably mainly due to the location, close to Djursholm with its fenced harbours on Framnäs Bay.

She got her chance when she went to make some tea. Mum was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper in a circle of light. Outside the windows was nothing but blackness.

“You want a cup of tea?” Jennifer said.

“That's nice of you, honey. Lapsang, please.”

Grandma hadn't had an electric kettle. She poured water in the smallest pan and waited for it to boil. It was soothing, standing in the light and watching the bubbles starting to form on the reflecting bottom.

“You sure I can't have the house?” she said while they waited. “That way, it'll stay in the family. It's about the right size for Bayram and me, and I wouldn't have to stay with his family any more.”

Mum sighed.

“It's not that simple,” she said without looking at her. “We can't just give the house away. It would have to be taken up with mother's attorney. Besides, you wouldn't be able to pay the tax on a house like this. The two of you don't even have jobs.”

When Jennifer didn't say anything she went on:

“You can always go and check if there are any books you'd like. All that stuff we’re allowed to take, movable assets.”

It was enough. Perhaps she should have asked more, to find out whether there was a loophole. Bayram would have liked to live here, he'd barely been to Stockholm. They could have continued studying up here.

The water had started bubbling. She put the teacup by mum's elbow and took her own into the living-room.

When she was little, it had used to confuse her that grandma's house had two living-rooms: the small one with the TV – dad and Joakim were in there now watching something with mum's siblings – and the long room that took up the better part of the house. Now she could think of it as a library. One wall was covered in books, soft leather spines with deep gold print. Across the room was a French window on the atrium, lit beneath the clear black sky.

Of course she shouldn't have brought it up with mum today. She hadn't had much of a choice; in two days they were going home. They were selling the house. If one of mum's relatives had wanted to keep it she would have understood.

It wasn't the wealthy suburb. It wasn't the ornaments that grandma had moved out of reach for her and Joakim when they were too small to trust their strong flabby hands: vases in ribbed grey-green celadon, porcelain shepherdesses trimmed with lace so fine you might think it was fabric until you touched it. Over there, on the little sewing table by the atrium door, there had been a box with a surface that looked like a mosaic of sliced pearls, but grandma had said that it was made of shagreen, sharkskin. The box wasn't there now. Gunnar or Ulla must already have packed it.

She wouldn't have asked to keep any of the ornaments. Not even the books, though they would have been harder to say no to: a collection of La Fontaine's fables with Classicist copperplates, a Mucha catalogue, a book with colour reproductions of William Blake's art that had given her nightmares when she was a kid. She put the cup on the coffee table, took out the Blake book and sat down on the puffy plush couch where she'd used to sit and read when they came here, maybe with a bag of travel candy next to her. Was that the one she should pick? After the conversation she hardly wanted to take anything, but should she lose the things she had a right to because she felt ashamed?

When mum walked past towards the TV room, Jennifer looked up.

“You know, you're coping well,” she said. “I wish I were as tough as you.”

Mum lit up, faintly.

“I wouldn't say it's strength, Jennifer honey,” she said. “I've had a lot of time to prepare.”

She went in there herself later, because the room was lit and warm with people, with Joakim leaning on his elbows on the carpet.

She sat at the left end of the couch, closest to the window, and her gaze slipped outside and across the road. On the other side of the lampposts lay the forest. It was a block of darkness against the paler sky, but one higher pine leant sideways from some storm, before she was born. It was the sigil of grandma's house. Nowhere else did the forest have the same outline.

The next afternoon she went for a walk. It was November, raw and wet rather than cold. They'd used to go here for the Christmas and February breaks when the cold scorched, and dad had made a fire when she and Joakim came back from sledging. She'd sat in front of it, her back to the darkness in the window.

She tried walking as far as she could in the direction of Stockholm proper, but of course she hadn't got far before darkness fell and she had to turn back to be on time for supper.

On the way home she looked for the pine on the forest edge and found it after a while. She put her hand on the deeply ridged bark that had grown chilly like metal. When she looked across the road, all the windows were lit in yellow.

She had a quick immature impulse to stay here by the foot of the pine until she froze to death or they let her stay. It was too melodramatic, for the sake of a house.

Dad had impressed them with chicken Kiev and panna cotta for dessert, and it was her turn to wash up. Mum stayed next to her to dry the crystal glasses. It wasn't much past six o'clock, but it was winter, already night. Tomorrow she would wake in the room with the sofa-bed for the last time.

“I guess there's still no chance.”

She tried to make her voice jocular, but it just sounded high-pitched. Mum's profile was hidden by a band of dark hair while she dried the last glass.

“No, I don't see why you think you have a right to it, after what you did to your brother.”

It was too absurd. Jennifer couldn't get angry.

“What do you mean? What did I do to Joakim?”

She'd already started searching for memories: when she'd told on him for calling a classmate something foul, when she ran off while he was babysitting her and dad had given him a telling-off. None of that merited mum's tone.

“It wasn't Joakim,” mum said.

Her voice was so choked, Jennifer could barely make out the words.

“What do you mean, then?”

Perhaps she shouldn't have insisted, not when someone's voice sounded like that.

“No, Jennifer,” mum said, “don't you worry about that. I shouldn't have said anything.”

“Seriously, I didn't mean to... Forget the house, of course I don't need a house, but what do you mean about my brother?”

“I said I shouldn't have said anything!”

Mum's voice tore on the last words. She hurried out of the kitchen, a bit crouched.

She needed to finish washing up. There were a lot of dishes, they'd been seven. After a few minutes, the work and the repetitive motions had returned her to some state of calm.

While she was rinsing out the sink she heard footsteps in the door. She turned her head and managed a smile, in case it was mum, but it was dad coming to top up his beer. He grinned.

“Thanks, Jennifer. You do a good job.”

When she asked, it sounded abrupt.

Dad's shoulders sagged.

“For starters, I want you to know that it wasn't your fault,” he began. “You were just a little kid.”

She’d known that she'd had a brother who'd died in childhood. He'd never been more than a name and brown hair on some pictures in the photo album. For a while in primary school she'd been afraid of telling people about him, because then they would find out that she didn't feel anything.

If it had happened a year later, she might have remembered. She could remember things from when she was five.

It had happened in another set of garden stairs, in the old terraced house they had moved out of afterwards. It hadn't even been in the winter, slippery with ice. She'd been four years old, Alvar two. Joakim had been in his room or out playing, he wasn't in the story. Alvar hadn't dared to walk down the stairs, so she'd held his hands and walked behind and over him like a sensible older sister.

Perhaps she'd told him he wasn't allowed to walk down the stairs by himself.

They'd come running out when they heard her screaming. She'd sat crying on the stairs and at first they'd thought she was the one who had fallen.

Quick blinks of sunlight. When he tripped, his little hand slipped in hers and she didn't dare to grab it in case she tore his shoulder joint. Or was that the twenty-one-year-old Jennifer trying to reconstruct it? She thought she could remember the sun and the tarmac below the steps, but nothing else.

“We called the hospital,” Dad said, shrugging. “He hung on for a few days, but there wasn't a lot they could do.”

Her breath had become loud in her ears. She looked down at her hands. They were a grown woman's hands, probably with some scars she hadn't had then, but it was the same flesh, the same skeleton.

“I didn't know,” she said at last.

Dad nodded his heavy head.

“It wasn't right of Yvonne to tell you,” he said. “Especially like that. You can't be held responsible.”

He supported himself on the tabletop, standing up. Jennifer looked up.

“Is it OK if I have a glass of wine?”

It was one of the few times she'd had a drink – the first time she'd drunk for intoxication. The wine had an acrid fruity flavour that clung to her teeth. She took several quick gulps, because otherwise she might smell blood in her nasal cavity.

She hadn't known Alvar. She didn't remember, and yet it had been she. The moment she thought she would make it, that she would be fine, she remembered a birthday card that Joakim had sent while he was studying in Lund. It had said To the best sister.

She took another gulp. It was intended as an anaesthetic, but they only had that one bottle of dark wine. She hadn't felt anything yet, except that emotions became harder to resist. If this went on, she would be too weak to cope.

By the time she put the glass on the sink she couldn't feel any effect on her senses. She went into the bedroom and took her coat and hat. Everything around her was warm and cocooned. Her skin sucked up the warmth, and yet she didn't stay. The debit card lay stiff in her coat pocket. When she zipped up the coat, she smelled the soap from grandma's bathroom on her hands.

She walked down the steps in the orange light of the lamp on the garage wall. It wasn't raining, but the asphalt was glittering wet.

There was a bus-stop further up Svalnäs Allé. She glanced up at the timetable: a little under fifteen minutes to go. That was almost too much, but the coat was warm and she could pull her hands into the sleeves. She'd read once that alcohol thinned the blood and made it easier to freeze to death. She wouldn't die as long as she was standing up.

The wine had made all perceptions slower. Perhaps you died because you didn't care as much about the cold. It was going to get colder. Sweden was spinning towards the heart of February, with dry paving-stones and a cold that made you pant and forced you to the ground like some religious visitation.

Perhaps they'd heard when she opened the front door, but nobody came for her. Across the road the windows shone yellow, the light that meant home.

The bus braked and lowered itself with a sighing noise. The heat was wondrous on her skin when she got in, like sitting in front of a fire. The bus set itself rolling, towards the city, and she left them.

THE END

#fiction #realism #dark #tragedy

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bitchninthekitchnnn · 8 years

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Women Puddin’ Other Women Down

I’m going to bitch about a topic that’s really been grinding my gears lately: women putting other women down. But before I get started, I wanted to talk about the Women’s March that happened last weekend on Saturday January 21st.

IT. WAS. AWESOME.

I participated in the Denver, Colorado march. My roommates and I got up at the crack of dawn, drove to Denver (we live in Boulder) and marched from morning ‘til afternoon.

Everything about the day was exhilarating. We chose to drive to Denver because the line for the RTD bus at the Boulder station wrapped around the block (this was at 7:15AM, hours before the march was supposed to start). As we drove down route 36, we saw floods of people along each bus stop, faces and signs bright from the reflection of the pink sunrise.

After we found a parking spot in Denver, we stopped for a caffeine fix at Pablo’s Coffee. We waited in line for 40 minutes with dozens of other marchers to find that our coffee and breakfast treats had been covered for all participating in the march. As we made our way to the capital, the streets were flooded with caring, loving, progressive, strong people, all eager to hit the streets.

The morning had a slow start. We were at a standstill for about 2 hours. The reason being: there were SO. MANY. PEOPLE. I was delightfully surprised by the outcome, and the amount of men in the crowds! There were people of all different races, ages, sexual orientations and disabilities, out in Denver on a chilly morning making our voices heard.

The city of Denver expected 40,000 people to come through. As of right now, it’s estimated somewhere around 200,000. We showed up. We made a difference. We sprawled through city, together, peacefully, and proudly. For the first time since election night, I’ve felt hopeful.

Now let’s get down to bitchin’.

Women putting other people down. There are sooooo many examples of this, but here’s a few to get started:

-Women talking shit about another woman's sexual history (IE: She has threesomes on the reg. She must not respect herself.)

-Women outwardly questioning another’s makeup and wardrobe choices (IE: You’re wearing that?)

-Women insulting another female for their life choices (IE: making stay at home moms feel like they’re not politically woke because they chose be at home with their families).

-Women commenting on your breakfast choices (IE: wow, that is A LOT of bacon).

-Women pointing out social interactions (IE: She’s always looking for attention. I feel bad for her).

The list goes on. Why do we do this?

Throughout high school, my weight fluctuated frequently. I had an extra 30-40 pounds on me during my freshman and sophomore year. Stress and an overwhelming sense of low self worth made me overeat. By the end of junior year I was tired of hating my body, and started “dieting” (aka starving myself) to feel pretty. And hey, it worked! Boys started looking at me in ways I wasn’t used to, friends complimented me and encouraged me to “keep it up!”

I was grossly thin. I was always tired. I was obsessed with running for miles, and then stepping onto my bathroom scale right afterwards to see how much weight I’d lost during the run. Yeah. It was messed up.

Enter grandma. She lived next door to me when I was growing up, and was present for most of my childhood. She was a firecracker of a woman who I loved very much. She was also incredibly shallow. To be fair, she grew up during a time where your dress size determined your entire self worth. That mindset was certainly perpetuated onto all of her daughters, and granddaughters.

During the time I was losing weight, she always had a positive comment, and, like my friends, encouraged me to “keep it up!” I would walk over her house after school, you know, for some standard gram time. She greeted me at the door with a full body scan, from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. I knew I looked up to her standards with the first words that came out of her mouth. If I was looking slim, she would say “Carla, you look so beautiful!” as she held the screen door open. If I had a couple extra pounds (which I swear to god, she could pick up on like a hawk) she would grimace and say, “Hello.” The interaction started to stress me out so much that I stopped visiting her solo. I’d only cross the yard when my sister, mom, dad or boyfriend at the time could be the buffer. And go through the door first.

Why do women do this to each other? NY Times puts it eloquently:

We aren’t competing with other women, ultimately, but with ourselves — with how we think of ourselves. For many of us, we look at other women and see, instead, a version of ourselves that is better, prettier, smarter, something more. We don’t see the other woman at all.

(https://www.nytimes.com/2015/11/01/opinion/sunday/why-women-compete-with-each-other.html)

Women have it ROUGH. Like so many other minorities, we’ve have to fight for every single right we have. Life would be a little sweeter if us ladies stopped comparing, judging, belittling each other for our choices. Next time you’re thinking about making a comment that’s meant to knock a woman down a peg, think about where the root of that comment is coming from, and work on those insecurities instead.

NOW LET’S GET TO THE KITCHN’.

Picking Women Up, Not Puddin’ Them Down

Lavender Lemon Pudding with Honey Poached Pears and Candied Lemons

OG recipe from Cafe Johnsonia: http://cafejohnsonia.com/2013/10/lavender-panna-cotta-honey-poached-pears.html

Total time: 1 hour 5 mins // Serves: 6-8

Alright, technically this a recipe for *panna cotta,* but they’re essentially the same thing. Pudding feels less intimidating and in all truth I just couldn’t let go of the name.

This recipe is easy, it just takes time. There’s just a lot of steps, and a good amount of throwin’ shit together. It’s not that bad, I promise!

For lavender lemon pudding:

3 Tablespoons cold water

one package gelatin

1¾ cups heavy cream

1¼ cups whole milk

½ cup sugar

1 teaspoon lavender buds

1 teaspoon vanilla extract (or ½ vanilla bean, scraped)

For honey poached pears:

3 slightly under-ripe pears, cored and peeled, cut into quarters

½ cup water

¼ cup honey

Juice of 1 large lemon

Peel of one large lemon cut into strips (I used a vegetable peeler to create long strips and cut them into thinner strips with a sharp knife)

1 teaspoon lavender buds

1 vanilla bean, split lengthwise down the middle

pinch sea salt

For candied lemon peel:

Reserved poaching liquid, only pears removed

¼ cup granulated sugar or evaporated cane juice

For lavender lemon pudding:

Have ready 6-8 custard cups or ramekins. (You can lightly oil them if you plan on turning them out onto a plate, it helps them release better.) Place the ramekins in a 9- by 13-inch baking dish or on a rimmed baking sheet. Set aside.

Place the cold water in a small bowl and sprinkle the gelatin on top. Let soften for 5-10 minutes.

Meanwhile, combine heavy cream, milk, sugar, and lavender in a medium saucepan. Heat gently, stirring to dissolve sugar, until the mixture just comes to a boil. Remove from heat and add the softened gelatin. Place back on the stove and heat gently until the gelatin is completely dissolved, about 2-3 minutes.

Stir in the vanilla and strain through a fine mesh sieve into a large measuring cup with a spout. Pour about ½ cup of the mixture into the ramekins. (There might be some leftover depending on the size of the ramekins.) Let stand until cooled to room temperature, then cover the ramekins with plastic wrap and place in the fridge for several hours to chill until set.

For honey poached pears:

Place the pears, water, honey, lemon juice and peel. lavender and vanilla bean in a small sauce pan Bring to a simmer and cook until pears are just tender, stirring occasionally and making sure the bottom doesn't burn. (If it does start to burn, the heat is way too high. It should just barely simmer.)

The pears will probably need between 30-45 minutes to properly poach. Check for doneness by inserting the tip of a sharp knife into one of the pears. If it goes in easily, then the pears are done. If not, cook for a few more minutes. Remove the pears and place them in a bowl to cool. Reserve the poaching liquid and other ingredients.

For the candied lemon peel:

Bring the poaching liquid to a boil and then lower the heat a bit and continue cooking until the liquid reduces and become syrupy, an additional 15 minutes or so. Remove the lemon peel from the syrup, letting as much of the syrup drip back into the pan as possible.

Reserve the remaining syrup to use as a sauce when serving. Place the sugar in a shallow bowl and add the lemon peel to the bowl and roll until coated. Set the zest aside to finish cooling. You may need to roll them in the sugar several times. Set them aside until serving time.

To serve:

Either serve the pudding still in the ramekin or carefully loosen it from the mold with a thin knife and turn upside down on a plate. Top with 3-4 pear slices and drizzle with some of the syrup and top with a few strips of candied lemon peel.

Note from the “editor”:

Carla is one of the best people. She’s got it all going on. She has the most beautifully curated Instagram, the best fucking attitude I could ever hope to steal for myself. Follow her if you feel like you need some feel good posts in your social media. I love her. She’s the best.

As a woman, life is already hard. We should spend more time lifting each other up rather than puddin’ each other down just to feel a little more ahead. This goes for everything. The basic lesson in intersectional feminism really. We all can’t get ahead if everyone is pushing everyone else down. It just doesn’t work like that. Getting your own self image and worth to a good point is so damn hard anyway. Ugh. Anyway, Carla, youre beautiful. I love your mind. Reader, You’re beautiful, and I love you for being here.

If you want to write for this blog, just let me know! There are submission guidelines HERE Bitch it to me ladies.

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darlingpwease · 2 years

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you have this skill of getting stuck in people's heads

ME?!! Ur so slick, so sweet <333 you do 2 tho!!

It's amazing honestly, I still remember some of ur works from when I first followed you almost a year ago now (not in a creepy way tho I swear i remember stories well not saying urs arent memorable tho ur really good amazing like woah i wish i had ur talent cuz omgomg woAHHH so good like u do amazing everytime fr)

GENIUS, ur so great omgomg- I can't wait for those works!! They're gonna be amazing, I know it I know it

-panna cotta

Nah because same here, I used to not really get it but I read a work of one of my favorite characters and- BOOM- I don't think I can crawl out this hole anymore lmao :'))

Pretty pretty househusband Yuuta who waits patiently impatiently for you to come home, you work so hard, so he does his best to help you relieve all ur stress for being so good <33

When ur sososo deep that he goes insane, when you kiss him so sloppily he feels like he's happily drowning, when ur filling him up soso full that he cums from that alone

Maybe hybrid!Yuuta who goes into heat and does anything to keep you inside, to have you keep filling him up until all the cum inside him gets all frothy(?) as you keep thrusting and filling him, trying to push all of it back inside as he cries and begs you to just keep stuffin him

Having him put a plug in to keep him full with you when he goes out sometimes. And if u stuff him too full some days, he can feel it still drip down his thighs.

Or maybe Yuuta with a wolf!hybrid reader who won't stop pounding him, won't stop for days when in heat- even if he says for you to slow, when u do he begs for you to speed up, to go harder, give him more moremore- when you bite him all over to mark him as yours as you just keep going. Even if the poor baby has passed out, he just feel so good that you keep lazily thrusting into him, pressing kisses against his skin, nibbling every once in a while too, ah, such a lovable thing <33

(rp kinda thing here with pregnancy in case that's uncomfy vvv)

Oh! Or maybe feminizing Yuuta, helping him wear such adorable skirts and lovely thigh highs as u playfully tease him that you'll impregnate him if you cum inside him, stuff his lil womb full, only for him to plead for you to do that- ohgodpleasedothat-

He's such a pretty boy who's so great in everything <333

'not in a creepy way' </33333 I beg you, let's talk without these difficulties, honey. you and I are wise enough people to understand that you can't be creepy <3 if you said you don't remember any of my stories, — even though we've known each other for so long, — I'd be more offended; but I'm flattered that some left an imprint in your memory, it's so adorable <333 and how can you call me 'sweet" after that, I don't understand; look how polite and respectful you are, even though you were so teasing before <3333 'had ur talent' still the same smooth talker, still perfectly finding ways to get into people's hearts </3333 /pos /hj

cw unhealthy behaviour, househusband kink, hypersexuality, unprotected sex / breeding, elements of free use, praise (g.), fingering (g.), worshipping (r.), oral sex (r.)

When you wake up, he's already on his feet, cooking your food and preparing dinner (after all, he quickly learns your preferences and is always eager to please you), enthusiastically kissing you chaste on the cheek, almost singing when you put your arm around his waist behind, letting him finish things — and gently lifting his apron, baring thighs, kissing his skin while he cries out in surprise, trying to lower apron (even if his movements are awkward, without real attempts to resist you), but gives up when you say that you miss him, and you just want to thank your husband for how hardworking he is, so handsome and gentle, so eager to please you...

... Yuuta just misses you so much, wandering around but not finding anything that could make him stop thinking about you, even if he can do anything — but he is too eager for you and feels disappointed when he can't see you or hear your voice for a long time, even if tries to distract himself with household chores, knowing that you will be happy and praise him when you return.

You promise to come back early when leave, and even give an approximate time, but Yuuta can't help but hope that you will arrive early, almost watching at the door for you, glancing at the clock, not understanding what to do — when you were here, he could snuggle up to your hip or convince you to cuddle with him, or read a book while hearing you do things, or when you persuaded him to just sit with you, hugging his thin waist.

But when you're not there?

He's suffocatingly lonely.

Loyally waiting for you at the door, almost wagging his metaphorical tail, clutching light clothes, putting himself in order to look as good as possible when you return; when Yuuta hears you rustle the key, he is ready to unlock the door himself and pounce on you in delight, but too shy and not sure if such behavior will be considered by you as adequate — you did not particularly like his attempts to get out without permission — and correct, so he can only blush with delight, impatiently counting seconds when you open the door and return home — to immediately grab you and kiss, hurriedly undressing <3

Yuuta, who purrs about how glad he is to see you and that he has prepared your favorite dishes (maybe made a warm bath for you, wants to do a massage for you, or just cuddle after dinner — whatever you want), kissing your face and enthusiastically wrapping arms around, clinging like a puppy, looking for attention and a way to please you. He's not the kind of guy who has, hm, curvy shapes, but he can always make you feel thirsty — maybe it's because of how much he tries to attract you, giving you a view of everything you want, with that cutout on his clothes or an almost completely naked body, quietly asking what he can do for you, and even if you see a bashful blush on his cheek and ears from realizing how he looks, Yuuta still tries to be seductive.

It's not even your fault that you breed him anywhere, taking care that Yuuta is always soft and warm, whines your name and babbles how good he feels when you fill him up, that it's too good, that he's too close when his body hurts from your constant touches; even when you're not in the mood, you always find a way to make him cum "for what a good husband he is" by pinning him to the table while making squirm on your fingers, or during make out, rubbing and snuggling up to him — Yuuta is so tense and excited that almost immediately experiences climax, frantically clinging to you and crying while you continue rubbing, even more excited by his reaction to you.

Yuuta, who loves when you make him choke, pushing him beyond limits, using his mouth for your pleasure — hot, wet, always ready for you, whining when you grab his hair, but from pleasure, not from pain, even when it's too much for him. His body is almost a toy, and Yuuta only indulges this feeling, letting you touch him at any moment and sweetly calling you when you fill him with one push, as if trying to make sure that only you exist for him and he can only think about you, no one else, — and Yuuta agrees, whining your name and begging you not to let him go, saying how he loves you even when you squeeze his hands behind his back, using his needy body. When you tell him that it is his duty as a good husband to satisfy you and be always ready for you, and although this is only teasing, Yuuta understands it too literally, suggesting that if you are not completely satisfied, regularly give you oral in the morning and lick until you cum, so long as you don't feel unsatisfied with him; trying to always be ready for you, getting to the point that he is almost always a little aroused just so that you can always offer him privacy.

Yuuta, who locks you inside, not letting you get out of him during your orgasm, filling him, forcing you to dive as deep as possible, almost making him suffocate from proximity and depth, excessively fondling his painfully sensitive body to such a state that he did not even understand at what point you just began to lie, waiting when he will come to his senses,,,,, Yuuta, who one day is very quiet, even if you don't stop breeding his sticky, hot body, and you are afraid that you are doing something wrong — only to find out that he just wants to hear your sounds.

It's just that Yuuta in an apron rides you as a morning exercise and getting rid of stress just so that you go to work satisfied and pleasantly tired <3

yuuta who,,,, brainwashes himself,,,,,,, and wants to be your best husband — only to snap at anyone who tries to pull him out of this idyll. maybe you too often brought him to the point of breaking his mind, talking about what a good husband he is and how it suits him to be so beautiful and gentle and yours while forcing him to cum again and again, or denying his orgasm over and over again, cooling down only to reheat, that at some point he did not sees no other meaning than to become everything for you and for you to become everything for him, if he cannot be without you </333 you are the only ones who can make him feel like this — so complete, whole, finished.

cw1 unhealthy behaviour, mating season, consensual noncon (CNC), unprotected sex / breeding, sex toys, implied cum inflation (g.), fingering (g.)

Yuuta is so hot — so much so that you feel pressed against the stove when squeeze his thin hips, digging nails into the easily blushing skin while he moans, burying his face in the pillow, almost tearing it when you push especially hard, touching exactly those spot from which he can't help but arch back, pushing hips back. When he wraps his flexible long tail around you, blocking you in place when you cum, having no way other than to breed him, filling him up, — irritably biting his shoulders and neck when Yuuta whines with pain and pleasure, helping you to bend his stomach down, lifting his hips high enough so that you can easily push inside, fucking his exhausted and needy body even more, sticky with sweat and cum, almost soaked in you and still unsatisfied — just like you, as if you drink from a source and cannot satisfy thirst, but only crave more.

Even when Yuuta whines that his whole body hurts, as soon as you stop — he whines that he is too empty and abandoned and that you should continue, without ceasing to whine until you bury his head in a pillow during a new orgasm, pushing your body beyond possible limits but continuing, echoing his pleas and indulging requests to be rougher when you scratch his skin, grab his hair, bite his shoulder, spank him — just to hear his happy purring when Yuuta can't even move, lying with his thighs spread and sticky, smelling you, able only to purr and whine softly while you breed him.

(yuuta, who is lying on his stomach, unable to even move his tail, happily purring while your cum & precum flows from him,,,, when you push fingers inside, stretching him even more and forcing cum to flow out, getting only his disappointed whine </3)

Yuuta is just so empty when you are not inside him, do not fill him, do not stay inside him until he loses consciousness, being bred to such a state that his body remembers you, knowing how to squeeze better so that you fill him up faster, wanting only to use him until he can no longer resist you in any way other than to relax and let you fuck him, and use various ways to deceive his body, leaving a hot feeling of your recent presence with the help of toys, hoping that his body will not become even more dependent on you because of this constant feeling of closeness and fullness, as if it is enough to slightly push the plug so that everything flows out of him — only so that you continue to breed him, apologizing on that you haven't been inside for so long and treated his need for you so rudely.

When he drool, scratching you while you fuck him, making the remaining cum flow out of him, teasing how he can't be without you, so desperate — and when you want to move away only to find yourself firmly locked and filling his stomach again while he squirms, not expecting such movements from himself and being not ready for it, again humiliatingly cumming from the fact that you just pushed inside.

Yuuta, who whines your name and repeats 'pleasepleasepleaseplease' when you fuck him so hard, grabbing his thin waist, as if you really want to bred him, and Yuuta is so ashamed that he makes these wet sounds, continuously moaning and whining, not shutting up, being unable to even stop rolling his eyes from pleasure, continuously trembling while you continue, whispering something through his veil of pleasure — but he only wants you to make him wet, hot, marked, yours, using him in the most humiliating ways and never leaving him after that.

cw2 unhealthy behaviour, xenophilia, somnophilia, consensual noncon (CNC), knotting (g.), worshipping (r.)

When Yuuta lies defenseless in front of you, so open and vulnerable, blissfully clinging to you while you slowly thrust into him, making him to whine and moan through his sleep, teasing him and playing at a slow pace until you feel hard again; when he is too exhausted to be conscious, but lets you do whatever you want with his body while you hold him in your arms as the most precious thing you have.

Yuuta who,,,,,,,

,,,,,

Yuuta who whines, trying to make a semblance of a bark when you feel wild, roughly grabbing his hips and taking him from behind, leaving marks on his body while he drooling, making "woof" when you push; encouraging you to treat him as an equal of you and not feel sorry for him, — but he's not sure he can stand it when almost suffocating from the intensity, being tightly pressed and roughly bred, considered by you as a pretty enough mate to knot him. His belly, slightly rounded from how often you fill him while his cum and precum soaks the sheets, — but he still whines when you fall off, burrow your nose into his hair, and tries to give back; lifting his leg for deeper thrusts, as if trying to break him, but Yuuta only moans enthusiastically, being again and again trembling during a new orgasm while you knot him, filling him to such an extent that he has stars in front of his eyes.

Yuuta who expected this, but when you make him to ride you, hammering into his weakened, soaked body from below, he can no longer think about whether looks humiliating or not, longing only for you not to stop anymore, moving from the point of "too much" to "too little", pushing towards and clinging to you when it becomes too much for him, even if it's not enough, too little, his body is so sensitive and vulnerable, so open, and he wants you to continue pushing and filling into him like addicts, even if he won't be able to bring his legs together for a while afterwards — even if he can only stick out his tongue like a dog, not being able to moan a weak "woof" but breathing heavily, when you cum into him for the last time.

Yuuta, wet and sticky, so feverishly ruddy and hot, almost immediately falling asleep, being pressed against your body, even when you have not yet left his body </333 Yuuta, from whom your cum flows, but he doesn't have the strength to get up and go to the shower or wipe himself, shamelessly enjoying the warmth and stickiness, smokily realizing how messy he should look in front of you,,,,,,

cw unhealthy behaviour, feminine clothing, heavy feminization (skirts, thigh highs, language), unprotected sex / breeding, pregnancy themes, praise (g.), worshipping (r.)

A pretty skirt, pleasantly lying on the skin, almost flowing from a fleeting movement when you put hand on his thigh, shifting the fabric to the side, gradually lifting it higher and higher, stroking his cold skin, — but making him to squeeze his thighs when you stretch unacceptably high, to the edges of thigh highs, teasing with the warmth of your hands.

Yuuta, who prettily dresses up like a doll, trying to look as beautiful as possible for you, but still can't overcome embarrassment when you get hands under his clothes, exposing him, looking at everything he put on for you, making him to lie still while you are busy exploring, even if his face does not stop burning with embarrassment and the excitement of feeling your gaze. Yuuta is so beautiful, so gentle, so feminine — when you stroke his stomach, clinging to the edges of a high-waisted skirt, soothing him and convincing him to stop hiding face; he tried so hard for you, preening himself, just to be beautiful, but clings to the skirt when you sit between his thighs — only to obediently lift when you kiss his face, caressing, leaving a scattering of kisses on neck, convincing him to show himself.

When you gently put hand on his throat, listening to rapid heartbeat, persuading him to look in the mirror to see how beautiful he is, lifting his skirt teasingly high with your other hand, exposing his wet thighs, telling him how loving and soft he is, so sweet, so precious — when you tell him that his body is so good for breeding, so wet and open, enthusiastically reacting to any of your touches, unable to resist even when you are so close, fondling him, lifting up his skirt, just about ready to get inside. Let him feel how one push is enough for him to take you, whispering that you can impregnate him if Yuuta is so irresponsible and frivolous, allowing you to have such access to him; telling him to look at his bare belly, which you will soon fill, impregnating his womb, longing only to be bred until he is brought to such a state that he can only drool, holding hips high enough not to get his skirt dirty, whining when you call him your pretty thing, soaking him over and over, over and over, squeezing his hips and spanking, until his womb stops being so greedy and needy </333

When Yuuta is breathing heavily, being pressed tightly against you, feeling that you are about to fill him, and fidgeting restlessly, wanting to feel it sooner, humiliatingly whining that you don't give it to him, even when you squeeze and rub his chest, — and begging you to fill his womb and make him even prettier for you </333 cumming from the friction of the fabric when you push slightly, indulging his pleas, but not allowing him to relax, teasingly slowly filling him, making his eyes water from dissatisfaction and excessive sensitivity; putting his hand on his own belly so he can feel you fucking his womb, soaking him with your seed, whispering about how his skirt is cute, exposing wet thigh highs while you are deep in him, about to cum and fill; asking if Yuuta wants you to cum inside just to hear pleas breed him and make his womb yours </33333

... yes, each of them has cnc elements, but!!! yuuta just has a vibe of that cute thing that would be into primal kink / hunting, kiddnap-play and the like, you know? scenarios where you catch him/hunt him and use him as a prize, being the winner and having the absolute right <3 tie him up and breed him until he begs you to keep him with you; pin him to the ground while hunting and treat him like a caught prey; press him firmly into the wall and make sure that he will not be able to make a sound until you are satisfied, "forcing" him to serve you </333 yuuta, whose orgasm is constantly denied, and at the end of the game he shyly looks away when he sees that you have finished, saying in a quiet, pathetic voice that he has not cum yet </3333 dhdhhdgddg pretty thing pretty prettiest

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