#phew thats a wrap

[annamatix]

episode 1 of the jenny-anna taylor jurdan collab series YIPPEE (that's a mouthful we'll need to find a better name)

@viivdle did cardan's pov in two parts (linked at the bottom of this post) and i did jude's here

today’s topic: dancing with our hands tied (jurdan’s version)

“i, i loved you in secret” = jude didn’t tell a single soul that she had feelings for cardan

“first sight, yeah we love without reason” = after their first kiss she was super confused and didn’t understand why she was growing feeling for him, hence the ‘without reason’

“oh, 25 years old” = they weren’t 25, but they were very young so this could mean how literally the fate of the land fae was thrust into the hands of ‘kids’ (18?? 19??)

“oh, how were you to know, my love had been frozen. deep blue but you painted me golden” = in tcp jude clearly states that she is not interested in marrying or has feelings for anyone, but cardan kickstarted those feelings, clearly

“oh, and you held me close” = she was around cardan a lot, he kept her close to stead as seneschal and whatnot

“i could’ve spent forever with your hands in my pockets” = this could refer to the way cardan was slowly becoming more spy-like, learning from the roach (‘hands in my pockets’ = him stealing stuff, like her heart)

“picture of your face in an invisible locket” = 1) this is elfhame, so invisible lockets are totally normal, and 2) this could also mean how cardan was always on jude’s mind, like when he turned into a serpent she still imagined him sitting there, giving her pointers in his own sarcastic way

“you said there was nothing in the world that could stop it, i had a bad feeling” = the way when jude was seneschal, cardan would always say things like ‘what a shame not one of them knows who their real ruler is’ and jude always feeling like this power could slip out of her grasp soon

“and darling, you had turned my bed into a sacred oasis” = smirk (sorry) basically this could be about when jude and cardan did something together and agreed on it, it was a rare moment, making it 'sacred'

“people starting talking putting us through our paces” = there’s lots of whispering in courts like elfhame’s and jurdan was definitely affected by them

“i knew there was no one in the world who could take it, i had a bad feeling” = jude crowned cardan against his will, and she had to bear so many responsibilities, so again she felt like the power could fall from her anytime soon

“but we were dancing, dancing with our hands tied, hands tied” = even though she was seneschal, jude felt powerless in many ways, frustrated that she couldn’t control cardan, hence the ‘hands tied’

“yeah we were dancing, like it was the first time, first time” = jude and cardan kept repressing their feelings for each other, and then whenever they felt something/did something, they were always surprised (‘like it was the first time’ = signaling even though they did it before, they were still shocked, like the first time they did it)

(skipping the rest of the chorus, it’s basically a repeat)

“i, i loved you in spite of, deep fears that the world would divide us” = painfully obvious, a mortal and a faerie?? jude duarte and the beloved high king of elfhame?? not even in your wildest dreams, right?

“so baby can we dance, through an avalanche” = jurdan has been through a LOT together, this somewhat symbolizes that

“and say, say that we got it, i’m a mess but i'm the mess that you wanted” = do i even have to say it? jude i-poison-myself-every-day-and-made-a-deal-with-prince-dain-who-made-me-stab-clean-through-my-hand-plus-i-did-a-shit-ton-of-other-insane-things duarte, and cardan is head over heels for this woman

“oh, cause it’s gravity, keeping you with me” = its so hard to keep cardan under her thumb, and also unbelievable he would do it on his own accord. this could also work romantically, its crazy to her that cardan actually loves her

(skipping the chorus cuz i already did it above)

“i’d kiss you as the lights went out, swaying as the room burned down. i’d hold you as the water rushes in, if i could dance with you again” = symbolizes the time when cardan was a serpent, jude didn’t care which type of cardan he would be, what would happen, or anything else, she just wanted him next to her again. girlie was highkey desperate

(the rest of the song is basically the chorus)

wow thank you for reading until here *bows*

sorry if its shallow jenny is the better analyzer between us two 🙏

cardan's pov part 1

cardan's pov part 2

[threepoint14art]

Trust in your local student council!!! The president and the vice president!

You can tell them anything and they'll pretend to care!

[yourstrulyrika]

just a short smut fic about Leon bc I have history tomorrow and I am about to explode i need to get my mind off of it!! no thoughts about history just Leon !!!

warnings: none! just pure smut with fem!reader

topic: thigh worship bc!! thighs!! i love thighs!! chubby skinny thin toned soft thick IDC i love thighs. so does leon he told me that himself !!!!! Leon Kennedy loves eating you out thats it thats the plot

Leon is a sucker for thighs. He loves thighs. Worships thighs. Could spend hours on your thighs, sleeping on them, kissing them,

but his favorite thing is being between your thighs <3

Leon is a messy eater. You found that long time ago. No matter his mood or energy level — it always ends up messy. Now, Leon has his beloved way of eating you out.

Face sitting

When Leon proposed this idea at first, he was a bit shy, just a bit. His first words were “suffocating between your thighs would be a way to go I wouldn’t complain about.” with that smirk of his. Took a bit to actually get you to sit on him like he’s a damn chair, ended up with him pulling you all the way down, but you’re sitting, so that’s what matters!

When you sat on his face, he thought he’s in heaven. Grows pussydrunk so fast, doesn’t care about his thick cock throbbing in his pants, growls when you try to touch it because why aren’t you focusing on his tongue !! (he ends up cumming in his pants in the end btw)

Slurps, sucks, kisses, nibbles — he LOVES (your) pussy. Leon is a (your) pussy lover. He moans like a damn whore when you grind against him. Sometimes he wraps his hands around your thighs to make you grind against him, eating you so passionately he forgets about the world outside <3 He just loves being used by you!! that’s his life dream!!

“That’s it baby, best pussy in the whole world, lovin’ it s’ much, god,” the crack in his voice is just.. chefs kiss. Sometimes it feels like Leon talks to your pussy instead to you, but you know he loves you as much !!

He doesn’t stop even when you cum, he has to pull out at least two orgasms out of you before he even considers letting you go.

“Cmon.. baby, just one more, know you can do it,” He mumbles between the sucks. He says it for the third time today. You end up completely fucked dumb by his tongue <3 But when he finally stops, he always ends the session with a small press to your clit,

“Sorry baby, not my fault you taste too good.”

Obviously the session doesn’t end there though. Now it’s his time. But not before he presses soft, loving kisses to your thighs, marking them up, gripping them so possessively but still gently. When he’s satisfied with the sight, he finally takes his pants off and lets his cock spring out, hard and leaking for you <3

But no, he doesn’t fuck your pussy. He knows you’re overstimulated! He’s not that cruel!! But he fucks your thighs. Damn, your thighs, he just loves them. He presses your thighs together — he LOVES and lives for the sight of it. And then puts his dick in front of those soft legs, guiding himself between your thighs before finally pushing forward, letting out the loudest whine you heard.

“Shit, s’good, goddamn, you were made for me,“ He genuinely starts babbling, just as fucked dumb as you are. Moving his hips lazily but desperately, covering your inner thighs with his precum. And when he finally cums on your thighs and pulls away, he turns you around and just stares at the art work he made. to him, the sight of your thighs covered in his seed is a damn piece of art.

“Princess, can I take a photo? Looks so pretty, all mine,”

He ends up taking a photo of your thighs like this, his hand resting there and gently squishing the soft flesh, as if marking you as his. You just know he’s gonna jerk his damn soul off to that photo when you’re not around.

End! Phew, that took a minute. I have a history test tomorrow, I will scream my lungs out. Wish me luck or smth </3

[urlovebot]

omg hiii moon 🤭

soooo uhh Bada x reader at the club hc 👀

so funny that you ask! i just so happen to have a full hc of this prepared!

you convince bada to go to the club with you and your friends… not sure how you did but you managed to

bada is kind of down. she loves to dance. she loves to watch you dance. where could this go wrong?

well she’ll tell you the first sign that you two needed to stay home was when you walked out of your closet in a dress bada had never seen before, sauntering out like everything was fine

when you come out and see bada’s reaction, you accidentally let out a little laugh but quickly suck it back up when you sit down to start your makeup

bada’s eyes just follow your figure… she has no words. she feels set up.

you notice her cheeks are a little red when you look at her through the mirror,

“bada”

the eyes that were previously staring at your ass dart up to meet yours.

“are you okay?”

“mhm”

“you sure?”

“yep.”

“okay…”

so you finish getting ready per usual. you didnt wear alot of makeup given the fact you planned on shaking ass at the club so you’d sweat it off anyway

bada got dressed while you’d finished getting ready

she looked…

“why do you look like that?”

bada whipped her head around,

“like what??”

you just

“like you wanna impress other women.”

bada’s eyes widen… the audacity of you saying that to her when

“you’re dressed the same way!”

you cross your arms over your chest. she wasn’t completely wrong.

and with that you two are off!

bada of course has one hand on the wheel, her other hand gripping your thigh, curving her hand around the inside of it every once in a while.

once you reach your destination, bada gets out to open the door for you. she takes your hand as you step out in your heels. at this point, you were almost as tall as her which she was just enamored with

as you reach the door, bada leans down to whisper in your ear,

“do not act up in here.”

you give her your most angelic smile and nod at her words that go in one ear and out the other.

as soon as you see your friends, you grab bada’s hand and tug her towards the seated group.

bada slides into a chair, grabbing your hips and sitting you on top of her thigh.

you guys make light conversation, but a certain song grabs you and your friends attention and you turn around with pleading eyes

bada just smiles,

“go have fun”

you make to hop off of her leg but an arm wraps around your waist and pulls you against her chest.

she ducks her head down to your ear,

“be good.”

she lets go of you and when you stand up and whip your head behind you to look at her, she’s smiling innocently like she didn’t just seduce your ears.

phew

uhm

where were we

while you’re out on the dance floor letting loose with your friends, bada gets a few drinks in and mingles with the friends that stayed behind

her eyes flit over to you every once in a while

she just thinks you’re so cute jumping around with your friends

you’ve got this big grin on your face and she wants to pick you up and put you in her pocket

sometimes she catches you looking back at her, she throws a wink your way and you have the nerve to blush and whip your head around

she tunes back into her conversation for a couple minutes

when she looks back at you, she can’t see you anymore.

she starts to panic a bit, sitting up so she can see the floor a little clearer.

thats when she does spot you and the rest of your friend group-

you seem to be arguing with someone?

she keeps her eyes on your form

she knows you can handle yourself so she tries to stay out of it

that is, until your eyes lock and you nod your head, motioning for bada to come over

one thing about bada is that she’s always down for some confrontation when it comes to protecting her own

so she stands up, tells the rest of the group where she’s going, and confidently bee lines for you.

as she gets closer, she can hear both you and the man across from you shouting at each other

she her brain short circuits when she sees the man step closer to you

(her heart swells when she sees you also take a step closer. you were so cute.)

she reaches you before anything can escalate.

she steps in front of you and she realizes this little man is not only stupid, but also short.

bada puts her hands in her pockets and leans down to peer at him

“you good?”

he angrily responds “no, she threw her fucking drink on me.”

you come around to bada’s side, holding out an accusatory pointer finger

“he kept hitting on me and tried to grab at my ass so i threw my drink at him.”

bada’s eyes narrow,

the man tries to explain but bada stands her ground

“try that shit again and a drink wont be the only thing thrown at you.”

bada grabs your hand and turns around, trying to walk away but she hears this sorry excuse for a man yell out the following,

“fucking cunt!”

and she decides then and there that she loves you fr because she turns back around with the intent to beat that man until she’s fucking tired

she quickly lets go of your hand, taking long strides until she reaches the man.

her hands grasp at his collar, lifting him up to his tippy toes,

“the fuck did you just say?”

you and your friends are hot behind bada

as much as you love to see bada riled up, you really didn’t want to see her get in trouble

“bada-”

“say it again.”

the man is silent.

“bada lets go-”

bada lets out a dangerous chuckle,

“can’t even say that shit to my face.”

she lets go of the man and he lets out a breathe he’d been holding,

she turns around and reaches for your hand. she pulls you through the club and out of the exit and as soon as you both reach the outside, she pulls you into a tight hug

“i’m sorry.”

you take a deep breath, taking in her scent and presence.

“it’s okay. i’m fine. let’s go home please.”

she lets go of you, running her hands down your arms and grabbing your hands,

“i’m proud of you for throwing your drink in his face.” bada has a goofy grin on her face.

“why are you looking at me like that?”

bada brings one of your hands up to her mouth and presses her lips against it. she drops it down again,

“i dont know. I think i’m in love with you.”

you’re taken aback by this. you two hadn’t said those words to each other yet.

“you don’t have to say it back. I just wanted to let you know where i stand.”

she smiles softly at you.

“let’s go home.”

a/n: yes. this was going to be very cute and fun but then i got carried away with jealous bada. my bad. i will make a real hc with fun couple at the club I PROMISE

[bite-sized-devil]

For a short fic could I request a sleepy sunday morning staying in bed with Mammon, it being fluff too please

🌻 500 Followers Bite Sized Event 🌻

Short Fic Request

This is going to be easy like a Sunday morning. 😅 (I'm sorry I had to make that reference!!)

Mammon X OC! Liam. No warning necessary. It's all fluffy fluff 💕💕

Something is tickling The Great Mammon's nose. He smacks the annoyance, and immediately regrets his stupidity when his hand connects with Liam's head.

"Um ow, that's my head you're smacking." Liam's irritated sleepy voice fills Mammon's ears and he's glad Liam's head still remains on his chest. He's embarrassed at the blush that dons his cheeks. How could he forget he'd snuck into Liam's bed last night!

"M'sorry! Your hair was ticklin' my nose. I-I thought it was a bug." Mammon says, trying to explain away his blunder and hoping he hasn't ruined the mood.

"Oh so I resemble a bug now do I? That's nice, is it at least a cool bug? Like do I eat the heads off my mates like a praying mantis or am I pretty like a butterfly?" Mammon can hear the smile in Liam's response, phew! He hasn't blown it.

"Hhhmm I'd say more like a pretty butterfly I reckon, the thought of ya eatin' my head freaks me out!" He wraps his arm around Liam's side and pulls him close, his other hand rests on Liam's head pressing it into his chest as he leans down to give those brown curls a kiss.

"So you think I'm pretty? Good answer, I was worried I'd have to cut off your head." Liam laughs and slides his hands up Mammon's side.

"Shuddup, ya know I do! And as if ya could! I'm stronger than ya, silly human." He scoffs and grabs Liam's hand thats caressing his side and intertwines their fingers.

"You think so?" Liam asks he tightens his grip on Mammon's hand. Squeezing it and forcing his wrist back. Does his little human want to play a game of mercy? It's cute he thinks he could win.

Mammon squeezes Liam's smaller hand just a little bit before he easily drags Liam's hand up to his lips.

"I know so." He whispers against the back of Liam's hand before kissing it softly. A little sigh escapes Liam's lips at the contact and he snuggles further into Mammon's side. It makes a smile appear on the greedy demon's lips. He's decided he could get used to this; waking up beside his human.

"This is nice, maybe you should sneak in more often." Liam's words echo Mammon's thoughts, like usual they are on the same page.

Hack my little sweet pea! I hope you like this short fluffy fic with your cute little Liam and Mammon. 💕💕 Love ya kiddo! 🌻

[tipotimido33]

something thats been on my mind is how in the japanese version of pm64 (mario story), gourmet guy almost always ends his sentences with のねん (no nen) and ive literally tried to wrap my head around what the hell it means

example:

ふうっ…とってもおいしかったのねん

(english equivalent: phew...that was really good.)

[jakexneytiri]

the world is healing. mama issy posted <3

“As if he didn't just fuck you with his eyes. As if he didn't just worsen the sexual tension that's been brewing between you two for over the past week, and honestly - few months. Eywa, that makes you frustrated. Fuck - no, it makes you angry. So upset to the point you huff out a 'hmmph' and walk away to prepare yourself for an early bed.”

love me some lovey angry horny angst

"I like Ralak. And if Ralak means pain... You wrap your arms and legs tightly around him, using all your weight and strength to roll him on to his back and situate yourself comfortably on top of him. "..then yes, I like pain."

OH MY GOD?????? HELLO?????? fuck that’s so hot.

“Y-You like how I feel around you. Don’t you?” You breathe, corner of your lips pulling up into a smug little smirk. The question snaps his gaze up to yours, blue eyes locking onto your flushed face. How was it possible? For your face to be more arousing to him than the sight of him inside you. For you, it’s the way he’s staring at you, as if you were the topping on the finest matkayinan dessert.

“I love it.” He growls through a clenched jaw.

FUCK THATS SO FUCJINGG HTOSHUSCHAICHWJC

THEY FINALLY DID ITTTT AND PHEW MY GOD THAT WAS FUCKING AMAZING 😩😩😮‍💨🤤 you are so insanely talented with your writing bb!!! i love & adore ralak, we are truly so blessed to have teytey bring him to life via art and you bring him to life via fics!!! he feels so real like he SHOULD be in the movies. you make me so proud :’’) this was WELL WORTH the wait!! hell i would wait till christmas eve in 2027 if i had to!

ehehehehehe jake lo’ak and neteyam’s reactions had me GIGGLING at the end. i love them so much!!!

i can’t wait to see what else you have in store for these two 💕💕💕 GAH i love you & tey tey so much!! :’) 💘

Ralak te Sepawn ieyk’itan: Chapter Five

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, profanity, age gap, size difference/kink, praise kink, breeding kink, alcohol consumption, tattooing, blood, sexual tension, masturbation, fingering, p in v, mating/bonding, mentions of knotting, let me know if I forgot anything?

Word Count: 11.3k (i know i said it wouldn't be long, i'm so sorry i literally do not have an excuse)

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Cheers to the final chapter of this series, guys. Thanks for coming along for the journey! 🤍🤍

Synopsis: Your family seeks uturu with the Metkayina in the village of Awa’atlu. You have a difficult time adjusting, and are assigned your own special teacher, Ralak.

<- Previous Next ->

When he finished the bottle, he was woozy enough to crawl back into bed with you and snuggle behind you. His eyes finally closed when the first rays of sunshine beamed through the marui pod, shining on your face – waking you up.

----

The heavy, quick thump of your heart pounds in your ears, drowning out the waves that crash onto the shore outside your marui. Whilst the first rays of sunlight shine on your face, heating it up and making your eyelids flutter. Smacking your dry tongue against the roof of your mouth, the need for water becomes exigent.

You try to swallow whatever saliva you could pool in your cheeks, but it’s not nearly enough to clear the dryness of your throat. Looking to your left, you see Ralak sleeping soundly, head propped up on his makeshift bedhead with a hand resting on your inner thigh. He fell asleep mid-checking on you, wooziness of the fermented fruit getting the best of him.

As you sit up slowly, the soreness of your pelvis becomes undeniable. You take your time scooting back, leaning into the headboard as you catch your breath. Everything feels delayed, like pandora is spinning at an even slower pace. And that’s when the headache hits. Like you had just gotten in the middle of herd of stampeding 'angtsìk (hammerhead titanotheres).

You groan, ball of your palm rubbing a tight circle into your pulsing temple. A gust of wind blows the flap of your marui open, prickling your skin from the coolness of it. You feel your nipples harden into peaks on your chest, a hand quickly moving to cover them.

Oh.

Ralak had taken your iknimaya top off sometime during your sleep and hung it by the entrance of your marui to dry. It’s blood red leaves make a rustling noise as the draught of wind breezes through them, little rays of sunlight shining through the slivers of space.

Gently removing his hand from your thigh, you get out of the bed and make your way over to the swaying top. There’s a wobble in your step, dizziness swirling in your head making it hard to walk straight. When you finally get your hands on the top, you contemplate whether you should even put it on or not.

“As much as I love seeing you with nothing on...” A raspy voice startles you as two large hands slide down the sides of your waist, “...I love the way you look in that.” Ralak nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, rubbing his nose into the suppleness of your skin. “So, take care of it.” He mumbles, pressing his warm body against you. “And if you are cold... come back to bed.”

Is this my Ralak? You think, turning around to confirm if this talkative man is indeed your mate.

And that’s when you see that inebriated stare – the same gaze he had during his flashback a little over a week ago. Except, this time there’s a smug look to his face, corner of his lip curling upwards into a smirk. When you inspect a little further, you see the darkness under his eyes and the dampness of his hair.

“Lak. How long did you sleep? Are you–” You lean in to get a whiff of him, only to regret it a second later. “Eywa.” You mumble, looking at the shelf behind him to see the empty bottle of pxir. “Did you finish that last night? By yourself?”

“Mmm. Perhaps.” He hums, curving his back to snuzzle into your neck once more, snaking his arms around your waist to pull you in close.

“I see. So, it takes a bottle of pxir to get you to talk, hm? What else does a bottle of pxir do to you?” You tease, hand smoothing over his morning bulge, hard as rock and sheathed.

“Ah, tanhì. I am not that drunk.” He reaches behind you to retrieve the top. “...I would not do that before you are healed.” He pulls away from you, “I hurt you last night.” His voice falters as he slips the top over your head, securing the back with a quick knot.

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth, purse your lips and shake your head. “Is that why you couldn’t sleep? Kept drinking? Ralak. I’m fine. Really.” You cup his cheek, trying to show him the sincerity in your eyes.

“I gave your father my word.” He utters, breaking eye contact.

Brows pinching in confusion, you tilt your head to try look him in the eye. “Your word?”

He finally lifts his gaze to meet yours. “To never let anything happen to you.”

For a moment, you feel those butterflies in your stomach, fluttering away like they did the first day you laid eyes on this man. It’s sweet. Seeing such a big, strong man feel this way over a little blood. Because that’s what it was – just a little blood. Surely, other na’vi experience something similar during their first time, too. You move your hand to cover your mouth, feeling a scoff making its way up your throat.

“Pfft. So that’s what you two were talking about?” You ask with raised brows, and when they pinch together you let out a chuckle. “You were trying to fuck me, not kill me Lak.” You jester, but he didn’t find it as funny as you did, glaring down at you with a deadpan expression.

“Look, I wanted it. I still want it.” You grip his jawbone, pulling him in to look at you in the eye. “And I feel fine now.” You tell a white lie, hoping to make this gentle giant feel better.

He shakes his head, letting out a long sigh. “No. You do not. You still smell... wounded.” He utters the last word with a wince. “And I have been checking.”

Nothing gets past this man. Not when he has mastered the ability to tune into his body and all his senses. You gnaw on your bottom lip, little pointed canines nicking the thin flesh. The metallic taste of blood floods your tongue, setting off a spark in your brain. You scan his bare, sinewy torso and catch sight of his shoulder. Taking a quick breath in, you understand what he means by a ‘wounded’ scent.

“Well, I hurt you too. So, we’re even. Okay?” You insist, hand grazing over the scabbed-up bite mark on his shoulder.

He cocks his brow and scoffs, quickly glancing at the dark red indentations before looking back down at you like you just told the joke of the century. “That little scratch?”

Your drop your hand from his jaw and straighten your smile, mirroring his blank expression from earlier. Ralak and his word infamous word ‘scratch’. And most importantly, why didn’t he find your actual joke funny? Maybe you should make the best of this situation, then. Your eyes become beady, peering at him with limited vision.

“Fine. You hurt me.” You state, shrugging your shoulders a bit. His brows exchange a peck, ears twitching and jaw clenching. Hearing the confirmatory words made his heart sink. “But there is one thing you can do to make it up to me.”

You walk behind him towards the shelf of different sized and coloured bottles – some dusty, some not – and grab the fullest one. When you spin around, he has the guiltiest expression on his face, prepared to do anything to remedy the situation. It almost makes you want to stop with your little scheme and cradle him close into your bosom until he knows it’s okay. But not after his little scoff.

“My tattoo.” You sing, voiced feigned with innocence. 

He exhales a sigh, smile slowly creeping up on his face once he’s figured you out. “Alright, little one.” He chuckles, stretching over you to grab the drinking bowl from the top shelf – far out your reach. He plunks it into your hand and takes the bottle from your grasp, popping it open with his back-teeth. With a few glugs your cup is full, prompting him to nudge it to your lips.

“You drink. I get everything ready.” He says before turning his heel to walk out of the marui pod. As he’s lifting the flap to the door, he projects his voice, “It will help with your head.”

It feels like an eternity since Ralak left, leaving you with nothing but you and this drink. You rotate the cup, whirling the iridescent colours of the pxir. It smells much better than the bottle you shared last night, and tastes better too.

It’s sweeter, with a slight bitter aftertaste. You knock it back as if it were a medicinal concoction that your grandmother gave to you, wincing as the burn trails down your throat. You let out an ah and lay back into the cot, waiting for Ralak’s return. It’s been almost an hour now, and yet –

Still no Ralak.

You get up with a huff, pacing around the marui as you fidget with your thumbs. The nerves are setting in knowing that you’re about to get your first tattoo. But what makes it worse is where you’re getting this damn tattoo. Anxious – and thirsty – you pour yourself another cup, downing it in one go. Then another. And another.

At this point, it’s got no aftertaste at all. Just pure sweetness.

Once you swallow and go to put the cup down for good, you see Ralak standing by the marui door, hands above his head holding onto the stilt. It’s as if he were there watching you, waiting patiently for you to become aware his presence.

Unclothed and exposed right in front of your eyes.

The same drunken eyes peer back at you, ocean blue with a glint of gold, slightly lidded and glazed with something deeper than just lust. He stares at you longingly, wet hair plastered to his chest, right between his erect nipples. The more your gaze trails down his body, the more you realise how strong this man really is.

Each dip and ridge of his muscular physique is on full display, crossed ribs protruding from the stretched position he’s assuming. It’s like he’s posing like this just to... tease you. Because when you wonder down a little further, counting the stripes of that tattoo, he clears his throat. Loud. As if to say, ‘eyes up here’. 

No sort of grating noise could avert your gaze from this. His cock.

Its thick. Veiny. So heavy that it hangs down, resting against his thigh. His balls stay firm underneath it, sides of them barely peeking out around his girth. His head is barely sheathed, just the tip poking out – glistening with a tiny bead of precum. You swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth, reminding yourself to breathe.

“See something you like?” His voice is deep and gruff, hands falling from the stilt to his sides.

“Mmm. Perhaps.” You repeat his words from earlier in a similar tone of voice.

“Ah.” He says with a slight smirk, bending down to reach for the small woven basket. “Is that so?”

“Mhm.” You hum, smile growing wider as he approaches you.

At this point, you’re all woozy in the head – bubbly yet heavy. Your shoulders bow, weight of your body increasing as the minutes pass. And soon your eyes are so lidded that you can barely see the man in front of you. Letting out a slow breath, you blink lethargically, leaning in to see what’s in the basket.

“Been a good girl for me, I see.” Ralak husks, observing your less than sober state.

“Only because you took so long.” You retort, hand darting to grab onto his bicep for support.

Hand missing his arm entirely, you lose your balance and start stumbling towards the basket. He catches you, body slumping into his as he steadies you. He takes a quick glance over to the half empty bottle on the shelf, before looking back down at you with wide eyes and a growing smirk.

“Well, my little rou tanhi [drunk freckle/star]. I had to hunt for squid, didn’t I?” He says, dipping his hand into the basket to retrieve the squids’ ink sac. 

“That’s – that’s what you’re putting inside my skin?” You hiccup, examining the black, blubbery sac. It looks like a vein, with a more bulbous end.

Ralak nods as he moves quickly, setting up the area as best and clean as he can. He pulls out two low stools from the corner of his marui. Laying a thin cloth over one stool, he carefully places the delicate ink sac on it, reaching back into the basket to retrieve the other items.

Sitting on the other stool, he pulls out a bowl, blackened by the ink from his own tattoo, and a wooden tool. It’s lengthy, with the bone-white tooth of a skimwing lodged into it. Their teeth are needle-like, piercing the skin with ease and precision. Using the tooth, he pierces the ink sac and pours all the contents into the stained bowl.

“Where?” Ralak asks nonchalantly, taking out a similar tool, without the pointed end.

You close the distance between you two, resting a hand on his shoulder and pushing your crotch into his face. His head snaps up, eyes directly in front of... you. Your exposed skin. Your soft folds, touching one another to hide your clit. His eyes widen a bit, gaze coming to a standstill to take it all in.

“See something you like?” You giggle, breaking him out of his trance.

He swallows thickly, eyelids fluttering as he tries to peel his eyes away from such a... delectable sight. They trail up your body, lingering at your crimson-coloured top, before landing on your downward gaze. He cocks a brow inquisitively, quickly glancing back down to your bare pelvis before locking eyes with you once more.

Ralak places a gentle hand on your lower abdomen, “Here?”

You smile, nodding your head slowly. “Just like yours.” You say quietly, hand momentarily lifting from his shoulder to tie his hair into a loose, messy bun. “Exactly... like yours.”

It’s the way you said the words that sent a shiver down his spine. He tries to fight the curl of his lips, denying himself the pleasure from you wanting a tattoo just like his. There’s something about you with a matching tattoo that makes him feel loved, special – horny.

“Are you sure, tanhì?” He asks through a low, steady voice, peering up at you achingly.

“Yes. It is special to me.” You gulp, nodding slightly. “To us. To mark the beginning of our life together.”

He gives you a firm nod, dropping his head to smile his growing, beaming smile. Hand falling from your abdomen, he fetches a small cloth and a jelly-like substance from the basket. Your stomach tenses when he smears the cold substance on your skin, rubbing it in until it evaporates.

 After cleaning the area, he readies himself with the pointed tool, dipping the needle-like tooth into the bowl of ink. Barely grazing the skin, he traces out the design of the tattoo on your skin, providing himself with a pattern to tattoo with precision. That alone hurt.

“Wait. I-I need more.” You say quickly, voice laced with anxiety.

Ralak takes a glimpse at the nearly empty bottle on the shelf and continues with his task. “Give it more time.” He mutters, dipping the pointed-tip of the tooth into the ink, positioning it carefully over the pattern.

Tip of the needle hovering a millimetre away from your deep blue skin, he waits patiently for your body to tell him to start. After a few moments, he senses you relaxing, taking it at his cue to start the process. With the end of the blunt tool, he taps the end of the pointed tool, penetrating your top of skin with the tooth.

Ralak’s gazes snaps up to yours as soon as he removes the needle, “hurts?”

The sting is barely noticeable, feeling more like heat than pain. You shake your head with a wobbly smile and tighten your grip on his shoulder. He continues with the tattoo, piercing your skin continuously until your little nails sink so deep into his skin it draws a little blood.

“Sorry.” You utter out a strained apology, realizing you’ve practically mutilated both shoulders now.

He lets out a deep chuckle, shaking his head a bit as he pricks you once more, gently blowing on your reddened skin. The cool air helps a bit, but at this point, it’s welted and raised – stained with a sheer layer of blood. He’s only just finished one of the 6 stripes on the left side of your navel, and the first eclipse is already starting. Resting your free hand on your hip, you take a few deliberate breaths, doing your best to slow your galloping heart.

It’s such an intimate, overwhelming experience.

“A break? With some more pxir, yes?” He suggests, already putting down the tattooing tool.

“Yes... please.” You groan with trembling lungs, legs going all wobbly from how long you’ve been standing.

You go to lay down on the cot, spreading your legs just enough for him to see. He tries his best not to look, immediately dropping his head and fixating his gaze onto his darkened fingertips. But with a little, filthy moan of ‘pain’, his gaze flies up, landing right where you want it to.

Legs spreading a little more, he becomes mesmerized by the little show you’re putting on for him. He stares through lidded eyes that become glossy with greed and desire. Like he wants to pin them down and devour you on the spot. He huffs out a sigh, reluctantly slamming his eyes shut, denying himself the pleasure.

“Tanhì. Do not tempt me. You now have two wounds to heal from.” Ralak utters the words in a low voice.

Oh, right. Choosing to have your tattoo in this particular spot would definitely make things... a bit more painful. You close your legs, accepting your failed attempt to seduce your mate and lie back into the soft pillow. The ceiling is spinning, but not nearly as fast as it should be for this tortuous process to be over with.

Rolling your head to the side, you look at Ralak, whose eyes are still closed. “Lak.” You whisper, prompting him to look at you. “I could use more pxir now.”

Ralak stands up and walks over to the shelf and retrieves the bottle. He pours the rest of it into two cups, one for him and one for you. Handing you your drink, he sits next to you on the bed, resting his hand on your inner thigh. You sit up and take the cup, chugging it before he can even put his to his lips.

“Another.” You mumble, handing him back the empty cup.

“Easy, my paysyul.” He chuckles, pouring you another drink.

----

It’s been a week since you got your first tattoo, which took two days to complete, leaving you dumbfounded at how Ralak was able to tattoo himself. Since, you’ve not only added three beads to your songchord, but also a piece of the cork from the bottle you shared after your... eventful first time together.

You had pretty much healed three days after your iknimaya night, but your tattoo remains irritated. Nothing you couldn’t handle, just a little inflammation with an itch you couldn’t quite scratch. Not when Ralak’s watching, at least. He’d be quick to shoot you a scowl, instilling some level of obedience in your little, defiant body.

Despite his continuous repudiation of your attempts to become intimate, he would do his nightly... examinations. Insisting that you still smelled ‘wounded’, he’d spread your legs during your slumber and ‘check on you’. Or maybe it was more so to check you out. To see your plump folds and the way your little nub peeks out between them.

Sometimes he’d let his gaze linger a little too long to be considered an act of benevolence. But rather, an act of greed and lust. But he just couldn’t help it, you look so... perfect. So untouched. Soft and supple. Like silk under his calloused touch. It’s maddening, taking everything in him to look away and close your legs.

Truth be told, he was unsure of what he was really looking for, all he was going from was your scent. He knew it was radiating from this specific area, and truly didn’t want to take any chances and accept your advances if you weren’t fully healed and ready. At that point, you had just accepted the way things were and let him get along with whatever he needed to do to feel better.

And you’d pretend to be asleep, enjoying whatever little touch you could get from him.  

Other than that, Ralak has been nothing but sweet and patient with you, as he usually is. Bringing you breakfast in bed was one of his favourite things to do, other than cooking the meal itself. Meticulously diced fruits and freshly caught fish, plated perfectly, and presented by the chef himself – in all his naked glory.

That was another thing.

After mating, Ralak seemed to have lost his tewng [loincloth] altogether. Always walking around with nothing but maybe his cumberband or chest piece. At first, it was fun and tempting, putting a shy smirk on your face whenever you’d see his heavy cock laying freely between his thighs. But now, it’s just downright torment – teasing at its finest.

No matter how many times you ‘accidentally’ flashed him, bent over a little too much, or just straight up went naked too, he would continue with the task at hand, completely unbothered. You could look, but you couldn’t touch. Until you grew so fed up when you saw him in the most torturous pose of them all.

Until tonight.

----

Ralak sits comfortably on his knees in the soft, wet sand, sharpening the point of his spear. He’s so focused on his task that he doesn’t even realize your stare, nor the little strand of curly hair in the centre of his forehead. Even kneeling, this giant remains... a giant. Thick and burly, muscular physique defined from the way the last rays of sunshine on his skin.

His freckles twinkle, darker blue swirled and striped patterns moving with how his muscles tighten and untighten as he presses the waterstone against the blade. Every now and then he would dip the stone into the water to rewet it.

You watch him intently, counting the number of times he rewets the waterstone. How many times he swipes the blade. How many abs pop out as he leans further back to get a better look at the entire length of the spear. How many stripes in that tattoo that started it all. All of which, turn out the be the same number.

Six.

And once you got to the sixth stripe, your eyes trail down its length, catching sight of the singular dot right at the base of his cock. Swallowing the excessive saliva pooling in your mouth, your lidded gaze pierces into him, taking in every small detail of his cock. Barely sheathed. Thick. Slightly veiny and darker towards the glossy tip.

Then, he chucks the spears over his shoulder as if they were little twigs back from hometree, making a clunking noise so loud you couldn’t help but avert your piercing gaze upwards. You bite your lip from the motion, so touch deprived you begin to fantasize about being his little vultsyìp [stick; branch] again, draped over on his shoulder as he carries you back up to the marui.

Yet he remains focused on anything but you, trying his upmost best to maintain what sliver of composure you allow him to have left. The restraint is visibly plastered on his face – gathered brows and a tensed jaw. You slide a hand behind your back, untying the knot of your loincloth, allowing it to drop to your feet.

“Mind having a look? It’s a little itchy.” You ask, voice feigned with innocence.

His concerned gaze snaps up to your tattoo, eyes darting in all directions to scan the inking properly. After seeing that it’s just fine, his features soften upon realizing what you were actually doing. “Looks fine.” He mutters, eyelids fluttering a few times, landing his gaze upon yours.

And when you meet his ocean blue eyes, you swear they lustre over with something of wanton – of greed. Silently telling you how badly he wants to pin you down into the sand and slide himself inside you. To fill up your little body with every single inch of himself, until you’re moaning nothing but his name. You can feel the flutter of your stomach – excitement from thinking your attempt at seducing this overly-patient giant was finally a success.

Then he looks away.

As if he didn’t just fuck you with his eyes. As if he didn’t just worsen the sexual tension that’s been brewing between you two for over the past week, and honestly – few months. Eywa, that makes you frustrated. Fuck – no, it makes you angry. So upset to the point you huff out a ‘hmmph’ and walk away to prepare yourself for an early bed.

“Tanhì!” Ralak shouts after you, shuffling to his feet with the spears still on his shoulder. “Y/n!”

You ignore his calls, storming up to the marui pod. You sit on the end of the bed, face buried in your hands as you try to calm down. But the more you sit here, the bigger the flame grows in your chest. It’s obvious that you’re ready to try again, yet he’s blatantly ignoring your advances. At this point, you may have to try and pleasure yourself.

Keyword being ‘try’.

You’d never been able to make yourself feel all that great, let alone cum. But at this rate it seems like you have no other choice. That’s it. You’ll make yourself cum. No need for him, right? Right. You knew Ralak wouldn’t follow you when you’re this upset. He’d let you come to him when ‘you’re ready’, rather than invading your personal space.

You hype yourself up, lying flat on your back and closing your eyes. You allow for your wandering hands to barely graze your body, hardening your nipples into peaks almost instantly. Parting the red leaves of your top, you expose your breasts, thumbs giving them both a flick.

Listen to your body. Ralak’s voice echoes in your mind – an intrusive memory resurfacing all on its own.

Rather than scaring you, his voice arouses you, back bowing against the bed in response. A hand slips down your stomach, finding comfort between your thighs. You squeeze your hand with your thighs, fingers pressing into the softness of your folds. You let out a breathy, soft moan, tips of your digits now parting your pussy lips.

The cool air hits your exposed bundle of nerves, having you clench around nothingness. Pressing the pads of four fingers onto your sensitive nub, you rub slow, loose circles into it. Little shocks travel through you in jolts, spasming your thigh muscles. It feels like too much, but not enough all together.

You grunt, level of frustration doubling by the second. Dipping into your core, you slicken your fingertips, gliding them back up to your clit. You try tighter, faster circles, and apply a little less pressure this time. And fuck, did that make a difference. The wetness of your fingers had them gliding effortlessly over that little nub, making it stiffen beneath your fingertips.

Head sinking into the softness of his makeshift pillows, your mouth hangs agape, breathy moans losing their softness and turning into little mewls and whines. Your hips lift off the bed, chasing your building orgasm. You try to zero in on the feeling, but it feels so weird, but oh-so fucking good at the same time. It’s almost like the flame in your chest spread throughout your body – heat pooling in your core.

“What are you doing?” A thick, accented voice pierces the air, gruff and monotonous.

You’re too into the moment to stop – to even bat an eye. You can hear your mate’s voice, but what you’re doing feels so good that you can’t even tell if it’s just another intrusive thought or if its real. You feel your toes curl, hand working even faster as your stomach muscles tense up. You’re so, so close.

And Ralak could tell.

He stands there, beads of water from the ocean rolling off his body, dripping through the cracks of the woven marui floor. Hair plastered to his chest; he stares at the sight unfolding in front of him through lidded eyes. He grits his teeth to hold his tongue, but he couldn’t deny the way seeing you do this to yourself makes him feel.

Aroused. Frustrated. Jealous. Possessive.

“I said. What are you doing?” Ralak growls low in his chest, thick fingers gripping your wrist to put a stop to your frantic movements.

“No. Don’t.” You huff out, fighting his grasp to pick up the pace of your fingers. “Trying to – fuck. Trying to c-cum!”

“I can see that. But why?” He asks through another growl, letting go of your wrist.

“’c-cause – ‘cause you’ve given me no other choice! You won’t even – haah ah – you won’t even touch me, Lak!” You whine loudly, desperately trying to re-establish the perfect movements and pace you had before.

Ralak does nothing but stand stock-still for a few moments, watching his numeyu [student] work hard to make herself cum for the first time. Pride swells his chest, seeing you so close – yet so far away. And for a second, a pang of pity clenches his heart, brows creasing as he watches you squirm about. Has he really been that distant? Distant enough to make you resort to self-pleasure when you have a perfectly capable mate right here?

“Touch you, hm?” He hums lowly, resting his hand on your sweaty thigh, “like this?”

“N-No. Y-You know what I want.” You barely sputter out, shaking your head side to side.

“Say it. Say the words.” He growls, fingertips sinking into your skin.

“Oh. Please, Lak. Please touch me. It’s been too long!” A frustrated, desperate groan falls from your lips, legs snapping wide open.

His eyes widen at the sight of you so vulnerable and exposed; puffy, glistening clit on full display. Gaze flying up to yours, he sees the utter state of desperation plastered all over your face. You already look so fucked out, brows pinched, and lips parted – eyes so lidded he can barely see the glint of gold in them.

“Here?” He breathes, sliding his hand up your thigh and barely brushing his three fingers against your sticky clit.

“Mmm – please.” You pant, grabbing his wrist to position his hand properly. “Right h-here.”

“Ah.” Ralak finally takes a seat on the edge of the cot, eyes fixed on your carnal expression. He presses right into the bundle of nerves, sending a jolt through your legs. “And what next, my numeyu?”

Grip tightening around his wrist, you move his hand erratically, hips moving along with it. You hear the click of his tongue and look up to see the slight shake of his head and curl of his lips. That same smug face he makes when you’re not quite getting something right.

“Karyu. [teacher]” You moan softly, doe eyes peering up into his, lashes fluttering as you blink repeatedly.

His brows jump at the word. It’s been a while since he’s heard it fall from your lips. Your flushed, swollen lips. He looks back up to your little fucked out eyes, glossy with tears and want. He hates to see you cry but for some reason the tears you’re fighting back are only making him hornier. Is that how bad you want his cock? Bad enough to cry about it? His hung cock springs from his thigh, jumping up to slap his stomach.

“Must your karyu teach you how to cum again?” Ralak growls, sliding a finger down to your slickened entrance. “Hm? Were our lessons not enough?” All you can do is mewl and claw at his wrist, lolling your head from side to side. “Answer me.” He says roughly, prodding at your hole with very tip of his digit.

“Yes! Fuck – yes. Please, t-teach me.” You beg breathily, rolling your hips down onto his single digit. Having one last, quick glance between your legs, he clenches his jaw as he slides his finger inside you. And when it comes to a hilt, a moan of relief evades your agape mouth, head sinking back into the soft pillow.

For a fleeting moment, he remains completely still, ensuring that you’re alright. Ralak stares at you, eyes darting in all directions to detect even a hint of pain etched into your features. A brow jumps when he realises that all you’re feeling is pure ecstasy. Taking this as his cue to continue, he pulls his finger back a bit, lining it up with the gummy part of your heat.

“If you want to cum...” He roughly curls his finger, applying a blissful pressure to your sweet spot, earning him a sudden whine from your lips, “...you touch right here. Understood?”

“Mhm. Mhm.” You frantically nod as you hum the words, feeling an itchy feeling brew in your core. You need to scratch it. So. Fucking. Bad. And his finger just isn’t enough. “Mh – more!”

“More?” He smirks, swiping his thumb over your clit. “Like that?” His voice is gruff, and anything but innocent. Like he takes joy in seeing you in such a desperate, needy state. “Or is it her ��”

“For the love of Eywa, Ralak. Just fuck me, please!” You cry out, tears now rolling down your cheeks. If he didn’t take care of you now, you’d just lose it. He lets loose a loud chuckle, predatory gaze boring into your innocence. As if your little pleas and begs were entertaining him – getting him off.

“Take all three, then I think about it.” He teases with a cocked brow, pulling out of you tenderly to realign two digits at your opening.

“Y-Yes – Just, hurry Lak.” You whine, tugging at his wrist to sink his fingers inside you. “Oh, shit.” You exhale a sigh of relief. The stretch is divine, filling you up and just barely scratching that itch. To have his two thick fingers buried inside you is like ice on a burn, soothing all your pent-up frustration.

Ralak groans at the way you’re squeezing his digits, pussy so soaked they slip in and out with ease. As badly as he wants to let you know you’re being such a good girl for him, he decides to hold his praise for the bigger stretch. His last finger. Waiting patiently for your body to tell him you’re ready, he uses his free hand to massage your clit.

He fingers you roughly, pussy walls clenching and unclenching around him, telling him to go even deeper inside. Your whole-body squirms around, hips stuttering from your unadulterated desperation. The little, sweet cries and mewls escaping your lips are like music to his ears, sinking him deeper into his state of arousal.

Ralak situates himself between your legs, preparing you for the next stetch. Last time, you took it well, and perhaps if you hadn’t used your mate’s word against him, you would have had more time to adjust to all his fingers. The desperation you feel now is nearly as intense as your iknimaya tonight, but you find the strength to bite your tongue and allow Ralak to take over completely.

With your body now in a state of pure submission, Ralak leans in to kiss you, slowly sliding his last finger inside you. Your moan of pleasure is muffled by his soft lips, last knuckles meeting the softness of your plump pussy lips. He pulls away from you, moving his wet kisses up to your ear.

“That’s my good girl.” He whispers in a gruff voice, bottom lip brushing against the lobe of your ear. Angling his wrist to prod right into your sweet spot, he pumps all three fingers in and out of you.

“Feels... s-so – so good.” You pant quietly, rolling your hips into him. He can feel your body opening even more for him, sweet nectar dripping down to his wrists. After two more pumps of his fingers, you push him away from you, causing him to settle into the dips of his feet.

Both of you pant for air, chests heaving wildly, fully exposed and on edge. You can see the way his cock twitches to be sunk inside something – anything. It’s throbbing and so hard it must be painful, bead after bead of precum just oozing from his slit. It’s almost as if he enjoyed depriving himself of the pleasure of your tight cunt around his cock.

But tonight, there’s a glint in his eye.

A predatory, rapacious one. And when you exchange glares, there’s a silent understanding between the two of you. The understanding that you both want it just as bad as the other. The understanding that his patience has been stretched thin – so thin that all he needs is a little push.

“My body is ready, Ralak. I want you inside me, please.” You beg pathetically, looking him deep in his eyes.

Your sensitive pussy walls ache to know what it feels like to tighten around him, all gummy and slimy from the slick your body won’t stop producing. It’s like it’s in overdrive, sensing how big your mate is, and doing what it needs to accommodate his sheer size. Your legs spread wider, glistening pussy on full display – acting as bait to lure him in.

Ralak repositions himself closer between your legs, staring intently at the soft flesh, flushed red with arousal. Gaze darting up to yours, he sees your eyes gloss over with want, more tears of desperation threatening to roll down your heated cheeks.

He can tell you were ready, body completely submitting itself to him and his touches. He’s never seen you this needy, not even in heat. This past week has been tortuous for the two of you, waiting patiently for you to heal fully before touching you in the way you want.

“You must tell me if it hurts. Please tanhì.” He says low in his chest, rubbing his crown of his cock between your slickened folds.

“I will. Please.” A breathy whine parts your lips, hips shimmying down towards his. Left leg loosely resting on his thigh, you hold your right leg back, knee brushing against your shoulder.

He looks as if he were in pain, grimacing from the anticipation of possibly hurting you again. He ensures to take his time, aware of how well-endowed he is beneath his loincloth. He begins rubbing soft, loose circles in your swollen, sticky clit. It’s all red and puffy, making wet, sloppy noises with each stroke with his tip. He lingers there for as long as he can, playing in your wetness in hopes it’ll make it less painful for you.

Now with your verbal consent, he leans in, supporting his body weight with his hands nestled by your sides. His hips snap, throbbing, veiny cock sliding over your tender clit. You feel his warm, swollen tip poke into your lower stomach, pearls of precum leaking into the dip of your navel. He pulls back, trying to line his cock up with your entrance once more, hips stammering to sink himself inside you.

Fat tip bucking against your tight hole, it slides between your pussy lips and over the bundle of shot nerves again. You can’t help but moan, the sensation of his warm cock rubbing against you only makes the need to be fucked grow stronger. His breaths turn raggedy, huffing and puffing hot air as he snaps his hips back a final time. You reach down with a trembling hand and grip his girth, positioning him at your entrance.

“Relax for me, tanhì.” He grunts, shuffling his left knee closer towards you. “Let me in.” He feels you loosen up, releasing the breath you weren’t aware that you were holding. “A little more. There you go.” He hums, point of his tip now slowly breaking the resistance.

He pushes gently. Carefully. Slowly. Your chins meet your chests, both watching as his tip pops inside you. You take a sharp, shaky breath, feeling the immense pressure of something so thick bury itself into your tight opening. Eyes flicking up to yours, he searches your face for any kind of discomfort.

“Oh Lak. ‘ts s-so big.” You whimper under your breath, hand flying up to grip his forearm. “D-deeper.”

Inebriated eyes struggle to widen at your words, just like he struggles to fight against his urges to slam the rest of his cock inside you. He takes a deep breath, mesmerized by the way your cunt sucks him in another two inches. You’re so tight that he can’t help but grimace, brows tightening from the way you’re pinching him.

He stops, wanting to let you adjust to what’s inside you so far, only for you to wrap your slender, soft tail around his thigh. You know that it drives him crazy, it’s one of his favourite parts of you. A gruff grunt vibrates in his throat, hips bucking on their own to sink another couple inches inside your wet, tight cunt.

“Deeper. Deeper.” You blubber, grip on his forearm tightening as he obliges. You want all of him, every, single, fucking inch of him to stuff you until you feel queasy. Until he couldn’t push anymore. Until he can’t do anything but grind himself inside you. “Deeper!” You cry out a pathetic whine, just as his mushroomy head presses intp your cervix.

Ralak continues to push against the resistance, biting down on his bottom lip from the way you squeeze him so tightly. He bottoms out in your slippery pussy, his tattoo finally kissing yours. They align so perfectly, each line pressed against one another with precision.

He’s so deep inside you, that it feels like he’s in your tummy, knocking the air out of your lungs. Your mouth hangs open, tongue relaxed against your bottom lip as saliva dribbles down your chin. Brows kissing in fervour, you stare into his eyes while you relish in the sensation of your mate all the way inside you for the first time. He watches as the colour in your face turns almost purple, nails sinking so deep into his skin that they draw a little blood.

“Breathe for me, tanhì.” He huffs, easing up on his pushes. With his reminder, you gasp for air, salty tears flowing onto your tongue. “You are doing so well. You know that?”

“Oh – Ralak.” You let out a sweet, little cry, nipples hardening into stiff peaks from his extra hoarse voice. You couldn’t stop the tears; they always came when you feel too much of anything. And right now, you were feeling so full, so good. Even the stretch feels good, the sting and hint of pain from his cock burrowing all the way inside you.

He could feel the blood slowly trickle down his forearm, but the way your tight walls are nipping at him is much worse. The scent of his blood mixes in the air with the scent of your arousal, sending his nostrils fluttering in fear that he’s hurt you again.

“Feeling pain?” He asks, breaking eye contact briefly to check if you’re bleeding again. An expression of relief washes over him when he realizes that you’re not – it’s all just him. All he can see is the supple skin pulled taut around his cock, doing its best to stretch wide enough for him.

“No.” You lie, afraid it’ll be a repeat of last time. The pain is more like a burn, but the way the ridge of his cockhead pushes up into your gummy walls masks it just right.

“Tanhì.” He rasps, glancing at your disconnected kurus laying on your stomach, silently asking to make tsaheylu – for the truth.

“I – I mean, a little.” You confess, holding both your kurus in next to each other. “Just... stings. Feel me.” You breathe, urge to bond so consuming that your tendrils dance wildly as you move them closer together. Tsaheylu is made hastily, kurus tugging together with a quick, sharp movement. You stare into each other’s lidless eyes, pupils blown to full capacity.

Ralak’s ears tuck next to his skull, brows pinching and lips parting. In an instant, he can feel everything you’re feeling, and for a few moments its just overwhelming. He feels the slight burn between your legs and pants a few times, breath syncing with yours.

“See? You feel…good. Really good.” You moan lowly, finally relaxing your stomach muscles.

“Good.” He gulps, corners of his lips curling upwards. He stays as still as he can, waiting for your body’s command to move. “You feel… tight.”

There’s a moment of silence where you both take in how one another feels. How you can feel each vein of his cock. The way his mushroomy head throbs against your cervix. How warm and soft you feel around his length, sucking him in with greed.

It almost feels like it did when you mated – blown pupils and heightened senses. It’s just another way of connecting with each other. Ralak drops his head, gaze landing on your tattoo, distorted from the way your belly bulges from his cock.

“Oh shit.” He curses under his breath, voice laced with panic. He begins pulling out, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. “That must hurt.” He says, putting all his weight on one hand to caress the bump protruding from your abdomen with the other.

You look down to see his fingers graze over the bulge, shock raising your brows. “I- It doesn’t. I’m fine.”

His hand continues to stroke the bump, fantasizing about how one day this bump would be by something else entirely – his baby growing in your womb. He tries his hardest to fight the arousal brewing in his core, the type that makes his hips snap forward all on their own. All so he can see that bulge protrude even more.

Ralaks’ breathing is so heavy and hard that it’s audible – a low, continuous growl rumbling deep in his chest. Hand slowly sliding down your tattoo, he presses the ball of his palm into your pelvis as his thumb caresses your puffy clit. It makes you squirm a little, walls relaxing and contracting around his cock. He can tell that your body is ready for him, pussy producing so much slick it’s dripping onto his swollen balls.

“Please….” You moan softly, trying to grind into him. “Need you so bad, Lak.”

“Tell me what you need, my little paysyul.” He groans, inching closer to your face, hand moving from your clit to cup your breast. 

“Need you… need you to fuck m-me.” Your breath hitches at the last word, body shuddering from the way his slickened, calloused thumb grazes over your nipple.

“Fuck you, hm?” His accented voice is thick with want – with rapacity. He thrusts into you suddenly, knocking the air out your lungs. “Like that?”

“Mmnfuck! Ye-s.” You inhale shakily, nodding reassuringly as you claw at his face to pull him closer to you. He quickly props himself up on both his elbows, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours.

Ralak clenches and unclenches his jaw, ears twitching in synchrony, as he tries to resist scratching the itch to pound into you like his own little personal fucktoy. No matter how badly he wants to. To pump you full of his seed. To breed you. To knot you.

He sighs, momentarily closing his eyes to regain his composure. It’s already here, the animalistic instinct to turn you into a vessel to carry his offspring. It’s so close. Creeping up on him like a menace.

His rut.

Though it’s not due for another week, the way you’re staring up at him, eyes glazed over with need, begging him to fill you up didn’t help. Yet, he bites his lip through it, determined to make your real first time a special one. An enjoyable experience. So much so, that he forgets it’s his first time too.

Gently, Ralak. He reminds himself, rocking into you languidly, back muscles rippling with every thrust. Glancing down, he witnesses the bulge move as he rolls his hips into you. Sticky pelvises connected by strings of slick as he pulls out, he grunts quietly, feeling ashamed by how aroused watching you stretch to these lengths makes him feel.

He leans into you, peppering wet kisses down your jaw line, working his way up to the lobe of your ear. “Being such a good girl for me, hm? For your mate.”

You can feel the way his cock moves inside you, so deep and thick that every part of you is being stimulated all at once. You can’t even think straight, not with the way he’s grunting and whispering sweet praises into your ear. You hold on tightly to your mate, wrapping your arms around his neck as he moves at a steady pace.

That hint of pain quickly subsides, morphing into waves of pleasure so intense that it’s etched into your features. Your little mewls and whines turn into soft moans, breathy and shaky from the way he fucks right into your gummy sweet spot. You tighten your hold around his waist with your legs, encouraging him to fasten his pace and deepen his strokes.

“Please. More! Need more of you!” You cry out, nails scraping down his back to pull him in closer. 

“Patience, tanhì.” He huffs, moving his kisses down to your neck, suckling on your supple skin – leaving little bruise like marks behind. “So tiny” A kiss right on the column of your throat, “So tight.” A gentle roll of his hips as he pulls back to look you in the eyes. “My sevin [pretty].”

“Ralak.” You moan softly as you lift your hips up into him, feeling absolutely nothing but absolute and utter bliss at this point. “Please.”

He rolls his hips into you once more, slowly, and tenderly, ridge of his cockhead gliding past your swelling sweet spot. “My mate.” He groans, pulling back just to push himself inside you at a torturously slow pace. “All mine, yes?”

“Yes. Yes. All yours, ma’ lak.” You breathe, snaking your arms around his neck to tug him into you. “F-Faster.” You ask coyly, trying to keep your legs as wide open as you possibly can.

Ralak moves a little faster, but not nearly as fast as you need. He’s so big – so thick that it doesn’t matter the angle, some part of his cock is stimulating every part of you. Looking down, you see himself only halfway buried inside you, refusing to let your tattoos touch anymore.

Beady, displeased eyes snap back up to meet his, “I want to feel all of you.”

Ralak almost laughs, but instead cocks his brow and smirks. He leans down to play in the dip of your collarbone with his tongue, moving quickly to pepper a few kisses on the curve of your shoulder. “You like pain that much?”

For second, you really think about it. His cock is so deep that you feel like you can barely take a full breath. Not to mention the bulge from him being inside you alone. Yet you want all of it. Perhaps you do like pain. But with the way he’s touching you it’s hard to think clearly whatsoever. All that’s running through your head is Ralak pinning you into a mating press and pounding you the way you want.

“I like Ralak. And if Ralak means pain...” You wrap your arms and legs tightly around him, using all your weight and strength to roll him on to his back and situate yourself comfortably on top of him. “...then yes, I like pain.”  

“Is that right?” He huffs as his back slams into the ground, hands instinctively flying to grip the softness of your hips.

“Yes.” You let out a shaky confirmation, bringing your knees to your chest so you’re squatting over him. Sinking all the way down onto his cock, he watches as you suck in every single inch of him with ease. You’re tight – really tight – but you were practically made for him. He exhales a chuckle, finding it interesting how such a little thing could take his cock so well.

“What?” You snap, hands pressing into his firm chest as you reposition yourself on top of him.

“Who knew someone as small as you...” He slides his hands from your hips to your waist, “... would be made for someone like me.”

You gasp as he completely bottoms out inside you, lungs filling with the scent of his arousal, “Someone s-so big?”

He chuckles, calloused thumbs grazing over your raised tattoo, entranced how you can make such an inking like his look so good. There’s just something about the way it trails down to the most sensitive, vulnerable area of your body that drives him crazy.

“I can see why you couldn’t stop staring at mine.” He husks, hand sliding over the stripes to feel their raised texture.

The sensation makes your hips snap back, tattoo still a little sore and itchy. But the way his cock tilts right into your walls washes away the sting with a wave of pleasure. And soon your hips are stuttering all on their own, chasing that budding heat in your core. Every time you move back it feels like a jolt of white-hot pleasure, and when you move forward it’s like –

Satiation.

A feeling of fullness and satisfaction, so intense you feel like you’re about to explode. The sensation is a new one altogether, something you’ve never felt before. It’s so much – so overwhelming you could just scream. It’s like a pressure in your chest, like a heated pot with an airtight lid, about to pop and release.

Your body chases it, grinding back and forth into him at an unrelenting tempo. And the sounds that are coming from your mouth are just straight up vulgar. At this rate, you’re using him for your own pleasure, frenzied movements only increasing in speed and force. He’s so deep the bump protruding from your abdomen has completely deformed your tattoo, pushing against his thumbs.

He presses into it, feeling the crown of his cock through your soft skin. You’re arching your back, angling the tip of his cock to pummel into you even more, fingernails digging deep into his chest for some sort of leverage. You lift your hips up and slam into him repeatedly until the sound of smacking flesh overpowers your filthy noises.

“E-Easy tanhì.” His gruff voice breaks from your erratic movements. “Slow down. You are going to hurt yourself.” He grunts as he grabs your hips to slow you down, feeling his own climax quickly approaching.

“Quiet.” You shush him, weakly smacking away one of his hands to prevent him from ruining this for you. “Fuck. This feels too good. So fucking good. I-I feel like I’m –” You cut yourself off with a quick gasp for air.

Ralak looks up at you with lust in his eyes, pride bubbling in his chest from how you’re working for your climax all on your own. And from the way you’re clamping down around him, he can sense that you’re close. Maybe he could just give into you. Just this once.

“There you go. Just like that.” He encourages you, sliding his thumb between your folds to play with your sticky clit.

“Ugh! Lak.” You moan his name as you release the breath you’ve been holding. Eyes slamming shut, you shift your focus on the unfurling coil in your core. It feels like your nerves are shot, body teeming with pleasure.

Ralak stays still, allowing his little tanhì to do all the work. He can’t peel his eyes away from such a sight. The sight of his mate using him for her own pleasure. It almost sends him over the edge, urge to fuck up into you becoming an itch he must scratch.

“Y-You like how I feel around you. Don’t you?” You breathe, corner of your lips pulling up into a smug little smirk. The question snaps his gaze up to yours, blue eyes locking onto your flushed face. How was it possible? For your face to be more arousing to him than the sight of him inside you. For you, it’s the way he’s staring at you, as if you were the topping on the finest matkayinan dessert.

“Yeah? Haah, ah – say it. Tell your numeyu.” You pant shakily.

Ralak’s jaw twitches, chest rising and falling from how hard he’s breathing. He looks like he’s biting on his tongue – literally and figuratively. To hold back even just an ounce of self-control. So not to admit how good it feels when you squeeze him with your innocence.

It’s so pure. Untouched. Unfucked.

“I love it.” He growls through a clenched jaw.

“Oh, fuck.” You let loose a sudden scream, your hand flying to cover your agape mouth. Then there’s –

Silence. You hold your breath, feeling your eyes burn as they gloss over. All you can hear is the sound of your slick smearing all over his pelvic bone as you grind into him, and his intense breathing. Until you feel like you’re about to burst. Your hand falls from your mouth, leaving it wide open.

“Ralak.” You moan his name, although it sounds more like a desperate cry for help.

Rather than answering, he picks up the speed of his thumb, swiping over your swollen clit at a merciless pace.

“Ralak.” Another little cry falls from your flushed lips to let him know you’re close even though he can feel everything through tsaheylu. “Ra –” You cut yourself off with a quick snap of your hips, jamming his head right against your swollen g-spot. “–lak!”

“Ralak!” You cry out for the last time, frenzied movements turning into quick, rough grinding. You gush all over your mate, force of your orgasm so strong that you push him out of you, painting his stomach in your pussy juices as if he were a blank canvas. Your legs shake uncontrollably, all strength of your body washing away to leave you weak and wobbly. Pushing down onto his chest, you do your best to hold your shuddering body up.

“Fuck. Good girl. Good girl.” He curses a well-deserved praise, accent extra thick over such a novel word to him.

“I-I just made mys-self cum, Lak.” You groan breathlessly, feeling the walls of your cunt pulsate around him as confirmation.  

“I can see that tanhì” He chuckles breathily, chin meeting his chest to look at the little puddle of cum you’ve made on him. You look down to see what he’s talking about, blurred vision making it so that you can only see the intense glisten of his skin. You slide one hand down from his chest onto his stomach, feeling a warm, watery liquid glazed over his cyan skin.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorr – ”

“Shh. Again. Do that for your karyu again.” He hums, rolling his hips to grind his cock between your slippery pussy lips.

“Oh – Lak, I – I really don’t know if I can.” You say with trembling lungs, feeling so spent that you’re light in the head.

Ralak clicks his tongue, swiftly moving his hands under your thighs to lift you up. “You can. Hips up.” With one quick movement, he positions the tip of his cock at your tight opening and lets go of your thighs. Due to the heaviness of your body, you slam down onto lap, taking every inch of his cock all at once.

“Oh, great mother!” You cry out her name as a curse, crown of his cock threatening to pierce through your cervix. It hurt so good that you can’t help but grind further into it his relentless pushes. Fuck, maybe you do like pain. White hot pleasure surges through you, but morphs into something totally different when you feel his fingers wrap around and sink into your hips.

He repositions himself, heels of his feet sinking so deep into the cot that there will be dents for weeks. You bob and sway as he wiggles into place, all-consuming eyes boring into yours of delirium. They had a glint of... intent.

Intent to make you cum again.

And again. And – honestly, as many orgasms as he could squeeze out of your little body. And before you can even process all of what’s going on, Ralak begins pounding into you. Wet, squelching noises and sounds of skin smacking against skin become louder than the filthy moans he’s expertly working out of you.

“This is what you want, yes?” He grunts, pulling out just to slam himself back into you a little deeper. “All of me?”

“Lak!” You barely get out, a hand against his tattoo to push him back. “W-Wait, it’s too much –”

“Answer me.” He growls, angling his pelvis to fuck right into your most sensitive spot.

“Oh – fuck! Y-Yes!” You let loose a sudden, hoarse cry of defeat, taking his hammering with no where to run.

He can’t stop the buck of his hips. It’s just the way your heat sucks his in his twitching cock, milking his sticky precum into your empty womb. And that belly bulge – that damn bulge makes it twice as hard to fight to urge to fill you up until it’s even more swollen. He watches as it moves, ramming so hard into you it protrudes a little more with each thrust.

“Then cum for me.”  He demands of you, eyes locked on the way your breasts bounce under your crimson top from the sheer force of his thrusts.

“Please! Please –” You beg, unsure what even for. You could already feel yet another orgasm approaching, and it’s not yours. It’s like a heat is transferring through his queue to yours, and down your spine in shocks. You try to close your legs in anticipation of it pooling in your core, setting off your own orgasm.

“Tell me what you need.” He growls, thrusts becoming shorter and deeper, bulge at the base of his cock growing by the second.

He’s on the brink of cumming, and you could feel it.

“I-Inside.” You blubber, head dipping back from the overstimulation as he gets himself off with your tight cunt. He tsks, thrusting up into you hard. “Ugh! I need your cum inside me!”

“Shit.” He growls deeply, manhandling your hips to keep your squirming body down on his cock. You feel it throb inside you, filling up your empty womb right before your pussy walls flutter around him. Your brain short circuits, body convulsing violently before slumping down into his. He holds you tight, giving your sopping cunt a few more deep thrusts, knot prodding at your entrance.

“W-What’s t-that?” You blubber breathlessly into his ear, feeling your eyelids grow heavier.

“Knot.” He barely grunts an answer, thick, sticky seed dripping down the growing, throbbing bulge as it has no where else to go. His fingers dig into your skin, deeper and deeper as he squeezes his eyes shut – resisting the urge to sink his knot inside you too. That would hurt. Too much.

He hums out his orgasm, rocking into you a few times to ensure you’re as full as can be. Well, you feel that way. You’re so full of not only his cock but also his huge load, you can practically feel it slushing around inside you. You groan when the sensation makes you a little queasy.

Ralak feels your discomfort, tenderly pulling out of you. That alone took a while, each inch coming out of you slowly and gently. “You okay?” He huffs, just as his cockhead pops out of you, allowing his warm cum to seep out of you and down your thighs. You nod into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes and letting your body rest on top of him.

“You took me so well.” He coos at you, supporting the back of your head with one hand and the swell of your ass with the other. “You know that?”

“Mhm. L-ak.” His name comes out broken as he shuffles to his feet with you in his firm hold. “I see you, ma’ ‘lak.” You mumble, letting your eyes flutter shut.

“I see you, my little tanhì.” He utters the words in a hoarse voice, making his way to the cave to take care of you.

----

Now that you’re all healed and settled in to your new forever home, Ralak urges you to pay your family a visit. It took quite a bit of convincing, and honestly a little bit of bribing, but it worked and here you are – standing in your own family marui. Kiri, Tuk, and Neytiri were out with Ronal and Tsireya, leaving the boys behind.

Just your luck.

“C’mon, let’s see it.” Jake crosses his arms and takes a step back.

“Yeah, y/n. It’s been over a week since we’ve seen you. I haven’t even seen your tattoo yet.” Lo’ak chimes in, leaning against the stilt of his family marui. Neteyam stands tall, keeping to himself as he listens intently to the conversation.

“Guys.” You chuckle nervously, fidgeting with the cork on your songchord.

“Why so nervous, baby girl? Somewhere where we can’t see or somethin’?” Jake jesters, uncrossing his arms to walk behind you, inspecting your back.

“Uh – uhm.” You stumble with your words, looking at Neteyam for some sort of rescue. Rather, he cocks a brow in agreeance with his family. He wants to know too. You look at Lo’ak, who’s now making his way towards you too. It feels like they’re all closing in on you, teaming up on you to give you no other choice.

“Fine. If you guys want to see it that bad.” You shrug, hooking your thumbs under the band of your tewng and tug it down until the six lines begin to show.

The men’s eyes snap down and widen once they all realise what you’re doing. They begin retreating to the back of the marui, hands splayed in front of their faces to shield them from the unfolding sight.

“Alright. Alright!” Jake shouts, waving his hands for you to stop.

“Yep. Nevermind. Message received.” Lo’ak mutters, making his way through the back door of the marui. Before you can even look Neteyam’s way, he’s right behind his baby brother, shaking his head and escaping this whole ordeal.

----------

THE END :)

I hope you guys enjoyed this (slow burn) Ralak series. I just want to give a special thank you to @zestys-stuff for allowing me to bring this man to life in a fic. This collaboration has been unreal and so much fun and honestly, I look forward to doing more collabs with you in the future (cus I know you got more delicious OC’s hidden up your sleeve). You’re so fucking talented and I literally cannot get over it.  

Now, now. Ralak is not gone forever. I’ll be doing special episodes of him (and reader) going forward, and you can expect the first special episode very soon – “Ralak’s First Rut”. It’s a bit of a mind fuck (literally) so bear with me! Anyways.

‘nuff love,

Issy <3

[arckook]

under the willow tree - lucas oneshot

pairing: wong yukhei/lucas x reader

au: rich kid

warnings: minor character deaths

word count: 22.4k

description: You have what many would consider the perfect life- endless money, a loving family, and a best friend that you know will never leave your side. But when your parents die in a mysterious car crash, everything you thought you could be sure of suddenly has no certainty.

You are of the opinion that adults really don’t realize how hard eight-year-olds have it.

It’s a thought that crosses your mind repeatedly throughout the impossibly long car ride to the airport, then in the impossibly long plane ride across the ocean, and when you got back in the car to drive home.

Adults don’t realize that your favorite place is your grandparents’ modest (modest to you, but you don’t realize that until you’re older) home in the dreamy climate of southern California, and only spending the three or so months of summer vacation that you get there is nowhere near enough time. You don’t want to go back to Korea, and you don’t want to sit still for that many hours on end.

But as you expected, your parents just placate you towards the end of the second car ride with some cookies they got at the airport and a smile, promising you that the chauffeur will drive quickly to get you home.

The car pulls up in the long, circular driveway in front of your estate outside the city of Busan, where your family goes when there’s not much business to be done. You like the estate because of how it at least isn’t in the big big city like your other house is- the penthouse suite in Seoul is too high up and the view of busy people constantly around makes you feel weird. You’re young, and you like that you can run around in a backyard and pick flowers and do whatever, so you always drag your parents into staying at the estate.

It’s only as you arrive there that you feel less antsy, and less annoyed with your parents, since they carefully get you out of the car and let you take the elevator up to your room (usually they make you climb the stairs, insisting you not be lazy just because you can be).

You jump right into the bed that’s too big for you, a new maid you don’t recognize coming in just to draw the thin curtains around your bed with a soft smile and turn the light off. For a moment before you drift away into the milky darkness of sleep, you wonder why you haven’t seen her before- after all, you like to keep track of the nice ladies who help you out around the house when your parents aren’t there. Despite your wonder, though, the long voyage has you tired beyond belief, and drawing the blankets up to your chin, you fall into unconsciousness.

School doesn’t start for about another two weeks, which is both a dread and an excitement for you. Firstly, a bore, because you’re really not sure what to do for these two weeks alone. Your older brother hadn’t come to America with you and your parents, because of his summer studies in Seoul, and your dad had left last night to go stay with him, so there would be no beach trips, because your mom hates the beach. So, you’ve deduced, you’re going to be extremely bored until you have to get back to Seoul to start school.

The excitement comes from not being in Seoul. At least you can be bored out in the fresh, salty air that blows in from the ocean water not too far away. It’s better company of nature than Gangnam, so you can’t complain too much.

However, your idea that you will be alone, and therefore bored, is cut short the very afternoon after you come home.

You’d spent the day lounging around, waiting for your mom to be done with paperwork in her office, and after a seafood lunch splayed out for you too artistically for an eight year old to really appreciate, you ended up in the expansive backyard.

You’ve never done much exploring in the back, since your mom was afraid you might get lost if you go out too far. After all, the backyard is just very well groomed grass and carefully placed selections of trees that extend until the property line too far for you to see- the fact that it’s so large probably being why it makes your mom nervous.

Despite that, nearby the house are paved walkways lined with short hedges and flowerbeds, and some wooden benches scattered under trees. You stick around those places, bringing a book in English out with you to practice reading it under the shade.

You settle down on a bench under some willows, the long spindly branches almost cocooning you away from the outside world as you shift around, trying to get comfortable. You finally stop in a position where you’re on your back on the bench, feet stuck through the hole made by the opposing curves of the wood and the wrought iron armrest on one side.

“Charlotte’s Web.” you read aloud to yourself, feeling the words form on your lips. English isn’t uncomfortable for you, especially since some of your cousins can’t communicate with you outside of it, but sometimes the sounds feel strange as they pass your lips. You’d learned a lot this summer, and don’t want to forget, so you’ll force yourself to read the whole book out loud to nobody.

You take a breath, opening your mouth to start the first sentence of the book, when a similarly young voice mirrors what you’d just said.

“Charlotte’s Web,” repeats someone who must be in front of you, in English that sounds a little more awkward than yours. You shoot upright, the book dropping to your lap as your eyes fall on a boy who can’t be much older than you, if he is at all; hair the color of nearly-burnt caramel sweeping across his forehead, head tilted to the side curiously, his eyes so dark they look black in the shade crinkling up in amusement as he registers your surprise.

“What?” you blurt, thoughts of speaking English slipping away. The boy laughs heartily at your exclamation, purposely dropping to the ground and crossing his legs casually.

“What do you mean, ‘what’?” he replies. Oh, good. At least he speaks Korean, even if he does have somewhat of a slight accent.

“I mean…” you start, then frown a little. What do you really mean? “I was just surprised.”

The boy nods, remnants of his laughter still on his tanned face. “I see. Why?”

You raise your eyebrows, sitting a little straighter. “Are you serious? Why? You appeared out of nowhere!”

“Nowhere seems a little dramatic,” the boy shrugs. “I was right over there.” he gestures with his head to the kitchen's entrance to the house.

You purse your lips. “Well how’d you get there?” You’re sure you’ve never seen him before.

“My mom started working here a couple weeks ago. She told me this morning that your family came home last night, so I went looking for you this morning.” he tells you, reclining back on his arms folded under his head.

You hum, then remember the unfamiliar woman in your room last night. “Oh! I saw your mom. She turned off the light in my room yesterday.”

The boy scoffs. “You need someone to do that for you?”

You frown, suddenly feeling a little attacked. “Excuse me?” Someone has always done that for you, and for your brother, too. It’s not weird like he’s making it seem.

He peeks up at you from his lazy place on the grass. “Ever thought about it? You know normal kids don’t have people to do easy stuff like that for them.”

“Normal?” you repeat, feeling more and more annoyed. “Are you saying that I’m not normal?”

“Of course you’re not,” the boy says like you should have already known that. “You’re rich.”

“And you’re rude,” you snap, huffing a breath out and turning up your chin at him.

“Good one,” he replies, sarcastically, and suddenly you want to throw your book at his stupid head.

You’re pretty much about to, when the nice lady from last night pushes the hanging branches of the willow behind her and steps in.

“Hello, young lady,” she addresses you with a sweet smile, then turns to the boy, her face switching instantly to a disapproving expression. “Yukhei, didn’t we talk about how you can’t just run around without telling me where you’re going?”

Yukhei. So that’s his name.

“I was looking for her.” he replies, sitting up and pointing at you. You huff again.

“Don’t you know that pointing is rude?”

“I don’t care,” he shoots back, crossing his arms.

“Well you should!” you hiss, grip on the book tightening.

“Kids,” the woman intervenes, and you immediately shrink back in embarrassment at how you’d acted. Your mom would’ve told you off just then. “Yukhei, you can’t just antagonize other kids when you barely know them.”

“Can’t is one thing, shouldn’t is another,” Yukhei replies without an air of concern. You roll your eyes. He really is insufferable!

The lady sighs, but a smile crosses her lips. “Alright. Say goodbye to Miss Y/N, maybe you can start again on better terms tomorrow.”

He seems to get the idea, and stands up, not even brushing the grass off of his pants. “Bye,” he says in your direction, with no remorse at all.

“Psh,” you mutter under your breath, and don’t respond.

The lady laughs again, then puts her hand on Yukhei’s shoulder and quietly leads him out of the area under the tree.

The next time you see Yukhei is three days later- you’d purposely not gone outside and pretty much stayed in your room or in the library during them so that you’d have no chance to encounter him.

However, your mom tells you on the third day that if you’re going to complain about leaving the estate and living in Seoul that you better be enjoying your time in Busan.

So you put pants on instead of the usual skirt and decide to teach yourself how to climb a tree.

The trees outside are a lot more daunting when you’re standing under them compared to what you were imagining in your head. The weeping willow you’d had your encounter under before seems good, since there’s one shorter branch you think you can reach before going up higher, but you figure the thing must be at least a thousand feet tall.

Well, actually, you have no clue how tall trees are, but it looks pretty high from here.

You walk around to the side where the lower branch is, and instantly, your mood drops.

“Are you kidding me?” you say before you can even think. Because there he is- Yukhei, the insufferable boy that you’ve been avoiding- sitting on the branch you were going to climb!

He looks down at you, and you’re expecting a sour reaction, but he has the same amused smile from when he first talked to you a few days ago. “Surprised to see you back here.”

“I live here.” you state, eyes narrowing.

Yukhei laughs, throwing his head back, and you frown in confusion.

���What’s so funny?” you question, hands on your hips.

“Sorry I was mean to you before,” Yukhei says, effectively surprising you. “I wasn’t expecting you to fight back when I teased you.”

Teasing? That’s what he calls teasing? You’re tempted to let him know just how off his definition of that word is, but you just sigh to yourself, imagining mom encouraging you to be polite.

“And why’s that?” you ask instead of reprimanding him for his poor vocabulary.

He shrugs, swinging his legs over the branch so he’s facing you completely. “Don’t know many girls.”

You roll your eyes. “So you thought a girl wouldn’t argue with you.”

“Well, you proved me wrong, so…?” he trails off with a cheeky grin, which makes your annoyance fade away way too quickly.

“Whatever,” you say, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “You’re in my tree, though.”

“Your tree?” he laughs again. “It’s a tree. It can’t be anybody’s.”

“Yes it can,” you say smugly. “My parents own this whole place, so it’s my family’s tree.”

Yukhei seems to think about this for a second, before another bigger smile breaks onto his face. “So what you’re saying is it isn’t your tree, but your family’s?”

For whatever reason, your second meeting with Yukhei changes your mind on him. He likes joking around with you, pressing your buttons and seeing how frustrated he can get you before bursting into laughter, which usually makes you laugh too. His mom, who had in fact been the same lady (you were right, you might add), sends the two of you off to explore the property in the morning and makes you snacks throughout the day, and you and Yukhei become quick partners in crime.

It’s why you’re even sadder than usual when barely two weeks later, your mom comes into your room with a sympathetic smile and your essential things already packed, saying it’s time to go back to Seoul.

You share goodbyes with Yukhei, who assures you that he’ll still be there when you all come back to the estate for winter break later in the year.

Throughout the rest of your childhood and adolescence, you don’t make many friends in the same social class as you. Before you met Yukhei, you’d had somewhat of an idea that you and him came from different worlds- you, daughter of a multi-millionaire couple with a business empire that you and your brother would inherit, and Yukhei, son of a maid at your parent’s estate and a teacher who remained back in China where he had come from. Despite this, you only realized how your friendship with Yukhei had changed you when you got older, and possible friends gave you strange looks when you mentioned your best friend back in Busan, asking questions like “why would you hang out with someone like him?”. You realized that you had grown up a little different from other kids at your private academy- you had grown up knowing what a life outside of yours was like.

And that brings you to being sixteen, a grin on your face that you just can’t wipe off as you get close enough to see the Busan property in the flattened part of the valley.

“You’re always so excited,” your brother Jaehyun says to you from the driver’s seat, chuckling. He’d insisted on driving, since your parents had the chauffeur in Seoul and had to make quite a few more stops for business than the two of you. It was just easier this way, he’d argued, but you think he was hoping for some peace and quiet instead of the intense classical your mom likes to turn up in the car.

“Duh,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Yukhei and I are going to go to the beach tomorrow. We gotta plan out what we’re going to do while we’re there.”

“The beach?” your brother asks incredulously. “It’s like, 23° outside.”

“So?” you say, shrugging. “He really wants to, and I like the beach too, so.”

“Pshh,” Jaehyun says, looking sideways at you with a vague smile. “I think he just wants to spend some time with you.”

You want to shove him, but you’re not sure how much to trust his driving skills, so you just stick your tongue out. “Don’t make it weird.”

“Manners,” he chides, but you know he’s not really trying to reprimand you.

Jaehyun parks the car on the long circular driveway that’s so familiar to you, and you practically jump out with the one bag you bring between your two residences.

You don’t have to look far for who you’re thinking of, because there at the very edge of the lawn in front of the house is Wong Yukhei.

He stands with the unshakeable confidence that he’s always had, hands tucked into the pockets of his baggy pants tucked into heavy work boots- he’s been helping out with gardening on the weekends and during breaks for two or so years now. He brushes through his hair with a grin full of anticipation as you make eye contact, lifting up one hand in a cheeky wave.

On the inside, you’d like to run over and throw your arms around him in greeting, but there’s other employees around as per usual to welcome you and Jaehyun home, so you just speed walk with as much grace as you can, bowing your head politely to others that you pass until you finally reach Yukhei, Jaehyun chatting with everyone else and leading them into the house to give you some privacy.

“Hiya,” he says, ruffling your hair as you stop in front of him, a smile you can’t even consider losing spread across your lips.

“Missed you,” you say, and he just laughs to himself. “What?”

“We facetimed like two days ago,” he replies, then reaches over and takes your bag as you roll your eyes.

“Don’t be dumb,” you try to take back the bag, but he’s already slung it over his shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

He laughs again. “Of course.”

Yukhei’s mom, who you greet with a big hug and are given some kisses on the cheeks in return, made you and her son a simple lunch, sending the two of you off through the backdoor with a blanket to sit under your favorite weeping willow.

“So,” you say when the two of you settle down, Yukhei pulling out your favorite meal of jajangmyeon in two thermoses and some side dishes, spreading them out between you. “How’s life?”

“It’s good,” he breaks your chopsticks for you and passes over the food. “I don’t know if I told you yet, but my dad is visiting in few weeks.”

Your jaw drops just as you’re about to slurp up some noodles. “Are you serious?”

You’ve never met Yukhei’s dad before, or even talked to him. Telephone calls with him never happened around you, and you respected that. All you know of him are some family photos from when Yukhei was really young, since he’s lived here since he was eight.

Yukhei nods, humming in confirmation. “I guess you’ll finally meet him.”

You frown- he sounds almost bothered by that statement. “Isn’t that a good thing? I’ve never met my best friend’s father and now is the chance.”

He looks down, sighing, which only confuses you more. “I’m just…” he sighs again, deeper, brushes through his hair with his fingers. “I guess I’m just nervous for him. I don’t want- I’m not, I’m not saying you’re like this, Y/N, cause I know you’re not, but… I don’t want you to think less of my family when you meet him.”

Your eyes widen, food practically forgotten as you stare at your best friend while he avoids your eyes, fiddling with his chopsticks. You can’t help but feel a sudden sense of regret and sadness, wondering what you could have done that he even considered you might look at him differently because of his father’s working conditions. You’ve known Yukhei and his family aren’t exactly in the best place financially, but he’s always turned down any help you’ve offered and you’ve always tried to be understanding and disregarded the social classes meant to separate the two of you.

Another smaller part of you is a little offended that he thought that of you, but you push that away. After all, you don’t know what it’s like being in his situation.

He must have noticed your expression, because Yukhei quickly sputters an explanation. You purse your lips, setting down the food, and interlocking your fingers solemnly.

“Yukhei,” you cut him off, and he looks up at you with concern. You sigh. “I thought we both knew there was never going to be any judgement. I’d never…” you sigh again, frustration leaking into the release of breath.

“I know, but-” Yukhei starts, but you keep talking.

“I don’t know where you got that idea, but you should really get rid of it. I’m never going to think of you any different than I think of other people. Actually no, that’s not even true. I think so much higher of you than other people- everyone at school only tries to be friends to make connections or because they know I have more money than them or they know I have a summer residence or whatever they know- and they’re the kind of people I think less of because they have no fucking personality!” you shake your head in exasperation. “But I’m never going to think less of you or your family because you’re never going to be like that, okay?”

A moment passes in silence, and you look down, a little nervous that you’ve said too much. You and Yukhei tend not to talk about just how opposite you are on the spectrum of wealth often, because despite how much you want to laugh when he jokes about how much money you have, it usually just makes you feel awkward. You also don’t usually talk about the other people you know, your classmates, since you feel like the more he knows about your life in Seoul the less he’ll see you as the you that he knows.

A chuckle breaks you out of your thoughts, and you look up in time to see Yukhei clambering over and wrapping you up roughly in his arms, tousling your hair as he laughs.

“How did I ever doubt you?” he says through his laughter, and you can’t help but smile too, leaning into his familiar embrace.

The next morning, you wake up in your baby blue king size bed that’s still too big for one person and feel a rush of excitement when you remember what you’re doing today.

You get ready faster than ever before, skipping on makeup since you’ll probably be in the water anyway and getting your hair out of your face carelessly. You try on a few different swimsuits, trying to decide which one is most appropriate for the weather, before you pick a one piece with a halter and some kind of light pink pattern across it, and figuring there’s a chance you’ll be cold, you put on a jumpsuit instead of the planned sundress.

You make it downstairs by nine am, finding Jaehyun and Yukhei in the dining room talking over some breakfast.

“Good morning,” you say to announce your presence, and they both look over, Jaehyun just rolling his eyes while Yukhei smiles.

“Ready to go so early?” he says, standing to pull out a seat for you at the table.

“Ooh, what a gentleman,” Jaehyun teases, a smirk lining his face. You roll your eyes and sit down while Yukhei just laughs.

You prefer sweeter things for breakfast, having gotten used to it in the summer days and weekends spent in California, where the only savory breakfast food is eggs and potatoes, and sometimes meat. So you don’t neglect to notice the sugary parfait and chocolate waffles laid out for you on your first day back to Busan.

“Where’s your mom?” you ask Yukhei as you dig in. “I want to thank her.”

He shrugs. “She didn’t cook, I think she went to town since it’s Saturday.”

Your lips form an o shape, nodding.

Breakfast passes smoothly, Jaehyun excusing himself after around 20 minutes telling you that he has a big finance project due tomorrow that he has to get started on, so you and Yukhei finish together in peace.

Once you’re done, the head butler Shinhae tells you to be extremely careful on the road and not to fool around (you get a little rosy at that comment) and to be home by the evening. He sends you and your best friend off with the same kind old-man smile you’ve seen your whole life, and you get in the car with a similar smile on your own face.

Your parents aren’t back yet, which means your regular chauffeur isn’t either. You called up a different chauffeur (well, Jaehyun called) to take you to the beach, and he drives with earphones in instead of playing music in the car. It’s a little weird, but you and Yukhei have a laugh about it and settle into casual conversation,

You talk about how exams went for the both of you- Yukhei has always hated school and didn’t try at all, but the smile that lights up his face when you tell him you think you did well makes it seem like grades are all he wants to hear about. You’ve grown up trying not to complain too much to him about your classes, since that brings up the conversation of what you’ll have to do once you graduate high school. Which is, inevitably, go to college, and unlike Jaehyun who has an abundance of friends equally as rich as you to make his college life in Seoul interesting and beneficial for the company, your parents want you and your practically-fluent English to study in the U.S. for your bachelor’s degree.

Obviously you have enough money to come back to Busan every weekend if you really wanted, but you doubt you’ll have the time or energy once you’re a business student. And you really hate thinking about a future where you can only talk to Yukhei in person once or twice a year.

The beach is only about an hour and a half drive, and it passes fairly quickly. The chauffeur drops the pair of you off near the shore, telling you he’ll being around the quiet beach town you’re in and to call him when you’re ready to leave. You shoot him a thumbs up, and once he nods and turns away, you pivot and race down the steps, not looking behind you to see if your best friend is following.

“Yah! L/N F/N! Are you crazy?” Yukhei shouts after you, and you hear his footsteps on the wood echoing your own.

“You know it!” you call back, hopping down the last step onto the sand. You quickly remove your flip-flops and stick them in the duffel bag you’d brought along, eager to feel the warm sand between your toes and along the curves of your feet.

Oof!

You stumble forward when a way too strong for his age young man crashes into you like he calculated with how much force to do so. Yukhei wraps his arms around your shoulders and takes the bag from you wordlessly, looking out at the ocean water in front of you.

“So pretty, huh?” he comments. You look up at his face and see an expression so full of wonder and curiosity that your heart tugs.

“It is,” you pat his hand on your arm so he lets go, and grab his hand on your other side instead, leading him off so you aren’t standing in front of the entrance. “I’m not sure where the yacht is right now, but I’m sure we could bring it out sometime.”

He snickers at that, and you realize how that sounded- one of your “rich kid moments” as Yukhei called them.

“Or we can just do this again and come to the beach like teenagers do,” he suggests humorously, and you cringe, offering him a sheepish smile.

“Sorry. Can’t help it.”

“I know,” he ruffles your hair, then points to a fairly empty spot on the beach. Well, the whole beach is fairly empty; after all it’s the beginning of summer so there aren’t many students or tourists, just a few families scattered around. “Let’s set up there?”

You nod, and realize you’re still holding hands as he walks over, faster enough than you that you end up a foot behind.

Yukhei sets up the umbrella and your chair, dramatically complaining the whole time that you’re using him for his muscles and you should be paying him for this. You’d wince but he’s the one who stopped you from helping in the first place, telling you to enjoy your beach trip without doing ‘hard labor’.

“I don’t understand why you didn’t bring a chair for yourself,” you chide, sitting down as he pulls a towel from your duffel bag and throwing it out over the sand next to you.

Yukhei grins up at you. “A chair is a place for a princess.”

You roll your eyes, groaning. “Stop. You’re so annoying.”

He reaches up and pinches your cheek, then sinks back down and throws his shirt off in one swift movement, tugging his towel away from the shade of the umbrella and settling down in a relaxed position. “Changed my mind, I think I’ll tan over here.”

“Tan?” you repeat, bewildered. “Did you put on sunscreen?”

“I don’t need sunscreen, the sun loves me.” You groan, reaching down and digging through the bag until you find the bright orange SPF bottle, throwing it at Yukhei’s head. He yelps dramatically and you throw your head back in laughter.

Once Yukhei has laid back down, you take a deep breath, wondering why you’re suddenly so nervous to shed your jumpsuit and be in the swimsuit you’d chosen in front of him. Something about the mood and how it’s just you two gives you a weird feeling that you don’t usually have around Yukhei- when you glance over at him and see just how much older he really looks right now you feel heat rise to your cheeks. Or maybe that’s the literal heat from wearing a jumpsuit at the beach.

Gathering up your confidence, you take off the jacket first, folding it carefully and placing it in your bag. You look at Yukhei in your peripherals and see that his eyes are shut, so you quickly slip your pants off and stuff them in the bag, hopping back onto your beach chair.

“You’re jumpy today.”

Your head snaps over to see Yukhei hasn’t moved, but the ghost of a smile lines his lips after he spoke.

“What?” you say, but you know he’s right.

He chuckles. “Ah, you’re cute sometimes, Y/N.”

Your eyes open wide and the heat in your cheeks is back as you whip your head away from him and put your face in your hands. What is happening? Seriously!

You pull out your English copy of Charlotte’s Web from the bag and try to pretend like that little interaction didn’t happen.

As you expected, Yukhei lasts about thirty minutes before deciding he’s bored of “not doing anything” and drags you from your seat, insisting that you go in the water.

“But we need to watch our stuff!” you exclaim as he pulls you down the shore. “What if we get distracted and our phones get stolen?”

“Buy a new phone, princess,” he teases, spinning you around randomly in the sand to get you to smile. “You can afford it.”

You roll your eyes but don’t stop him when he lets go of your wrist and starts chasing you down the edge of the water, cupping his hands to fill them up and throwing water at you shamelessly as you yelp and hop away, laughter ringing in the air.

Yukhei manages to drag you waist deep, taking both your hands and interlocking your fingers as you turn round and round in the water, feeling sand puff up around your ankles.

“We should swim,” he says on your fifth rotation. You snort in disbelief.

“The ocean isn’t for swimming.”

He looks at you incredulously. “So what the hell does it exist for then?”

You shake your head. “Pools are for swimming, the beach is for… hanging out at the beach.”

“Well I don’t know about you, but I came to swim,” Yukhei states firmly, which you snicker at.

“Go swim then, Prince Charming,” you let go of his hands to tap him on the cheek. He scrunches up his face and pouts.

“Without my princess?” he reaches for your waist but you dance just out of his reach, water splashing up around you.

You laugh, starting back towards the sand. “I’ll watch our stuff. Enjoy yourself, okay?”

Seemingly accepting that you won’t join him, Yukhei smiles in response and starts wading the opposite way, deeper into the ocean water.

You dry off your lower half once you’re back at the umbrella, pulling your phone out from your bag and checking to see if you have any notifications. You don’t, so you put it on your lap as you sit down and continue reading, occasionally looking up check that he hasn’t gone and drowned during your fun beach trip.

You think it’s probably been about thirty minutes when your phone starts ringing, the loud tune of TVXQ’s Mirotic (yeah, you had never really gotten over that song) playing from between your legs where your phone had fallen.

You scramble to get it, hoping not to disturb any other beachgoers with the (amazing) song playing at such a high volume. Seeing that it’s Jaehyun who’s calling, you swipe accept and put the phone to your ear.

“Need help with your project already?” you joke, dog-earing the page of your book.

“No, Y/N, this is serious.” he responds, his voice sounding thick and scratchy like he’s been crying. Immediately you sober up, sitting straighter and listening closely.

“What?”

Your brother takes a deep, shaky breath before speaking. “Our… Mom and Dad, Y/N, they…” he trails off and panic sets into your chest, forcing you to stand.

“Jae, what the hell happened?” you snap, clenching the hand that’s not holding the phone.

“They crashed.” he manages to choke out, and suddenly Jaehyun’s not keeping it together anymore and your strong older brother is sobbing over the phone. “They crashed- and they, they were- the ambulance came but they were already-”

“No,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “No, Jaehyun, fucking stop it right now. Stop fucking with me right now.”

He doesn’t yell at you, or tell you to stop, or tell you it’s true. He just keeps crying, hiccups and strangled sounds coming through to your ear.

Your stomach drops, and you lifelessly fall back onto your chair, barely remembering to stay on the call in case Jaehyun needs you.

Your parents are dead.

Your kind, understand parents who have shaped such a perfect, worriless life for you. Your parents who encouraged your friendship with Yukhei over the other rich kids because they believed he was genuine enough for you. Your parents who without hesitation spent months in the heat and cramped house of your grandparents in California, year by year, for you.

They’re gone.

“Y/N?” Jaehyun’s weak voice comes through, snapping you out of your trance. “Y/N, are you there?”

“I’m here,” you reply quickly.

“You need to come back to the house.” he croaks. “We have to… we have to figure something out. I know I’m older and I should be strong but… but I can’t be alone.”

“I’ll be home.” you assure him, already pulling out your clothes and shrugging them back on, hurriedly flinging sand off of the towel on the sand. “I’ll be back as fast as I can.”

“Okay,” you can imagine Jaehyun nodding. “Okay. Text me every ten minutes?”

He wants to make sure you don’t meet the same fate as your mom and dad. “...Yeah. I will.”

“Okay. Bye.” he says, sniffling once more before hanging up.

You’re halfway through trying and failing to fold up the chair, just about screaming in frustration inside your head, when a hand on your shoulder stops you in your tracks. You whip around to find Yukhei- oh, Yukhei. How can you tell him this?

His eyes are full of concern, his grip on your shoulder telling you that he knows something is wrong.

“What happened?” he asks lowly, as if he’s afraid to speak louder. You can only stare into his eyes, lip trembling, not having shed tears yet but feeling them burn along the rim of your eyes. “Y/N, what happened?”

“We need to go,” you manage to respond, voice shaking so obviously that you’re surprised you can even talk. “We need to go right now. I’m sorry.”

“Y/N-” he starts, drawing you closer, but you push him away.

“My parents died. That’s what happened.” you swallow down your tears as you turn, kneeling down to get a better view of the chair.

Yukhei gasps softly behind you- you can tell he was trying to make it subtle, but it doesn’t matter anyway. Your hands are shaking as you look for which part to fold, but they’re being pushed gently away just a second later.

Yukhei kneels next to you, wrapping up your hands in his and pulling you into a tight embrace, pressing your face against his shoulder. He doesn’t talk, and you manage not to cry, but both of you know you need him then. You need him not to talk, you need to just wrap your arms around the base of his neck and let him squeeze your waist so that he’s close to you, and shut out the way your world has just fallen apart in the span of five minutes. You need his comfort so that you might not fall apart too.

You stay there for a while before the sense of urgency from before hits you and you gasp out a “we need to go”. Yukhei pushes you away from the stuff, telling you to call the chauffeur and tell him to pick you up right now, no questions asked, and that he will pack everything up.

By the time the chauffeur arrives, Yukhei has just finished with the things, and quietly hauls everything but the bag slung over your shoulder up the stairs as you race up before him.

“Back to the estate,” you tell the chauffeur in a rushed, breathless voice as soon as the car door opens. “We need to get back quickly but drive as safely as possible.”

It’s with that little detail that Yukhei is clued into what happened to your parents. The ride back is silent, but he wraps his arm around you and turns your face into his shoulder once again, asking the chauffeur to please put on some calm music. He texts Jaehyun for you, assuring your brother that everything is just fine.

You feel sorry for just a moment after you jump out of the car with nothing but your phone the second it parks in front of the house, knowing you’ve left Yukhei without even a goodbye, but that feeling is gone right away.

Even though your parents hadn’t been here when it happened, or even here recently, knowing they’re gone makes the grand mansion loom in front of you like a gray part of history, the beauty of its construction overshadowed by the fate of its owners.

You rush to the front door, it opening for you by the time you’re halfway up the steps leading to it, Shinhae looking at you from the doorway with a somber expression that you try to ignore. You bow your head to him, then speed past as he steps away, not even caring who sees you run through the entranceway to the main staircase, bolting up the stairs faster than you ever have before, and down a series of hallways until you reach your brother’s room, where you’re expecting he’ll be.

You knock three times, calling out that it’s you, the door flings open immediately, and then your brother’s arms are around you, squeezing the life out of you as he wraps his fingers around the fabric of your jacket in desperation.

Multiple members of the staff employed at the estate come by Jaehyun’s room throughout the day, but the two of you ignore everyone but each other. You’d decided right away that you would contact all your family that didn’t already know tomorrow, and then contact the heads of different sectors of the business to see what their thoughts were in terms of what to do about the sudden lack of two joint CEOs. You’d also have to check your parents’ wills, in the safe in your dad’s office which only Jaehyun knew the password to. Not to mention, do something about going to Seoul to the mortuary that they’d been taken to, and figuring out something with a funeral or…

You have a lot to do. So much that the stress of the day and what is to come brings you and Jaehyun to an agreement that just for a while, you’ll put off living the nightmare you’ve been thrown into, and just stay together.

The next week is the hardest week of your life. You know you can’t see the future, but you also can’t imagine anything that could happen that would hurt worse than becoming an orphan before you had any time to accept it.

You and Jaehyun spend as little time in the mortuary and funeral house as you can, organizing the funeral in just an hour so you can get out of that building in which the air is thick with freshener, covering up the stinging stench of death. Jaehyun stays in Seoul, though, knowing he has to arrange a meeting for the future of the business.

When you come back to Busan, your father’s brother and his wife are there waiting for you. They greet you warmly and with teary eyes, telling you and your brother not to worry now that they’re here. They handle the talking to your relatives, sending out messages detailing what happened to your mom and dad and the date and location of the funeral.

You spend the time that you’re not talking to Jaehyun on the phone or with your aunt and uncle holed up in your room, door locked and curtains closed. The idea that life is moving on for other people even though you’re missing two of the most important people in your life is unbearable, so you push the rest of the world away.

Yukhei and his mom try to come up to see you every single day, desperation for you to answer more and more evident as every day passes, but you can’t see them. You can’t see anyone. You just flip through photobooks with pictures of your parents, unable to stop the waves of tears that hit you in bouts of ridiculous pain- you’re so worn out after you cry that you sleep, and when you wake up everything seems gray. Over and over again.

Jaehyun finally comes home, and your aunt and uncle sit you down at the dining table, having sent all of the staff away so it’s just the four of you.

“So,” your aunt, Seoyeon, begins, adjusting her glasses as she sighs. “What kind of conversation did you have with the department heads, Jaehyun?”

You and your brother share a momentarily confused look, having expected this to be about your parents and staying together as a family, not the business.

“Well,” Jaehyun starts, frowning slightly. “They seemed to agree me and Y/N will take over as CEOs once we’re both a little older, so until then-”

“Ah, of course,” your uncle Sungjoo cuts in. “The two of you are just so young. I never expected my brother’s children having to take up this terrible burden at such an age.”

Aunt Seoyeon nods, humming. “Your father mentioned to us a couple times that if this were to happen, we should step in and take over until you grow up a bit. It’s why we came so quickly.”

You cock your head, practically speechless.

“In both mom and dad’s wills it says that Y/N and I inherit the company if they were to die.” Jaehyun states, raising a brow. “And I’m becoming an adult next year, so there shouldn’t be a problem with that.”

“But you’re a student!” Aunt Seoyeon exclaims, a deep frown creasing her forehead. “Sweetie, there’s no way you can get your degree and run a multi-million dollar business at the same time.”

“Maybe not, but the officials at the head office will be there to guide me and support us until Y/N and I can fully take over.” Jaehyun argues, shaking his head. “It’s what mom and dad wanted.” “I think what they would have wanted more is for their children to finish growing up,” Uncle Sungjoo says, sighing deeply. “Of course, we’ll consult your grandparents in California first, but this is the right choice for us and for the company.”

You and Jaehyun share another incredulous look, and Jaehyun scoffs, standing abruptly.

“I’ll get the law involved if I have to. It’s our business, not yours.” he snaps, then leaves the room, a cold and awkward feeling setting in with his absence.

Your uncle looks at you like he’s expecting you to say sorry, but you don’t. And you won’t.

“When are my grandparents arriving?” you ask instead. Your uncle frowns.

“Arriving?” he repeats, and you frown.

“Yes, for the funeral.”

“Ah,” Uncle Sungjoo nods. “Well, we’ll look into booking them tickets.”

But for whatever reason,a feeling of distrust settles into your chest, and later, after you’ve managed to get back upstairs and be with Jaehyun, you buy your grandparents’ tickets yourself, sure that they would not make it to the funeral otherwise.

It’s the next week when Yukhei finally catches you.

You’re walking down the hall from your room to get to Jaehyun’s as quickly as possible in an effort to avoid your aunt and uncle when a hand lands on the crook of your elbow.

You yelp, jumping away instinctively, but you catch sight of who it is as soon as you turn, Yukhei’s grip on your arm not loosening in the slightest.

“Y/N,” he says, and although you want to pull away and pretend like you don’t have to face him at some point like you have been doing, the look in his eyes makes you stay. He’s watching you with fear lacing his expression- he’s not angry at you, he’s just…

He’s just worried.

Tears spring to your eyes as soon as it hits you that you’ve not only abandoned your best friend but probably worried him out of his mind the past two weeks. You haven’t gone this long without speaking since you were ten and he didn’t have a phone yet.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, drawing you into a hug as you try to get yourself under control. You won’t cry again. You’ve spent too much time crying.

You swallow down the lump in your throat and pull away from your best friend’s embrace, holding him at arms length as he stares down at you, brows drawn together in a deep crease.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, teeth latching onto your lower lip. “I missed you.”

“I missed you more,” he responds quietly, hands slipping down your arms to hold on to your own. “We need to talk.”

“I know.” you breathe out heavily. “It’s just that right now-”

“Y/N?”

The sharp voice of your aunt causes you and Yukhei to both look left. You don’t bother to let go of each others’ hands; after all, everyone here knows how close the two of you are, so its more instinct to stay together than apart.

You open your mouth to greet your aunt, but she cuts you off before you can even talk, stalking towards you with narrowed eyes.

“Isn’t this the landscaper?” she points with no respect at Yukhei, not even looking at him. You narrow your own eyes.

“The landscaper?” you repeat, then laugh with no humor, shaking your head. “This is Yukhei, my best friend.”

Your aunt laughs louder than you had, dryly. “Your best friend is a maintenance worker? Don’t kid with me, Y/N.”

Yukhei lets go of your hands, and you turn to him to see him almost sinking in on himself, looking ashamed.

“He’s not just some staff member, he’s been my closest friend for eight years, and even if he was, how can you laugh like that?” you question her sharply.

Aunt Seoyeon cocks her head dangerously. “Darling, you’re much too wealthy to be hanging around someone like that.” She grabs your arm and pulls you to the side, then looks pointedly at Yukhei, whose expression is unreadable. “Well? What are you still doing here?”

“Why are you talking to him like that?” you snap, hating the way that Yukhei just nods and pivots, quick footsteps leading him away from you. “He’s not below me just because he doesn’t have as much money as me.”

“Yes he is,” she hisses. “All of that sort are no good for company. You’re not to see him or contact him anymore. In fact, I think it’s better if you finish your summer in Seoul.”

“What?” you exclaim, and she hushes you hurriedly. “No, I’m not going back there until the new school year. Busan is our summer residence, and I’ll stay here for the summer.”

“I am your legal guardian now, Y/N,” your aunt says darkly, and you frown. “You’ll do as I say. In fact, since you fought me on it, you’ll leave tonight.”

You throw her hand off your arm and whip around, heading back to your room steaming with anger.

You aren’t even given time to say goodbye to Jaehyun or Yukhei before your aunt stuffs you in a car, telling the chauffeur to take you to the airport, where she’s already bought you a one-way flight to Seoul.

“L/N F/N! You haven’t been here during the summer in ages!”

You look up from your lonely spot in a crowded cafe to see Han Jieun, one of your classmates, strutting towards you in shoes that probably cost more than your entire current outfit combined.

“Hello, Jieun,” you greet politely, a little surprised when she pulls out the chair in front of you. “You’re right about that.”

She smiles, red lips curving to points. “So what brings you here? Everytime we ask about your summer plans you mention the estate in Busan. Did it burn down or something?” she laughs, a high, bell-like sounds.

You shake your head. “No, I just have a lot going on and was encouraged to stay in Seoul for a bit.” You’d rather not tell any of the classmates you’ve never entrusted with a secret as small as having kissed a certain boy once upon a time- let alone that your parents passed away and you were sent to Seoul by force.

Jieun nods, humming pensively. “Yes, those things do happen. Well, what are you up to today? Don’t tell me you’re doing work or anything like that?”

You are. You met with one of your dad’s closest advisors in the company in secret yesterday, and he gave you some assignments, trying to prepare you as quickly as possible to take over leading the company once you explained the situation with your aunt and uncle.

“Nothing important.” you shut the notebook you had open and take a sip of the latte you’d ordered before. “Why?”

Jieun tosses her fashionably cropped black hair over her shoulder with a wider grin. “Yuyeon, Jia, and I were going to head down Gangnam today and do some shopping. I know you’re more of the studious type, but I’d love it if you came along!”

Just for the fact that she tried to sound sincere, and you kind of want a distraction from the stress that’s overtaken every second of your life, you bite your lip with the tiniest smile, and agree.

Your aunt made you delete Yukhei’s number from your phone with her watching before you left a week ago, but you know it by heart anyway, so you’ve been texting him simple morning and nights every day since you left.

Today, he facetimes you when you’ve already tucked yourself into bed, but you answer regardless.

“Hiya,” he says, face pixelated on your screen. You guess his connection is bad.

“Hi,” you reply, knowing your voice shows how drained you are.

“Heard from Jaehyun that you went shopping today,” he wiggles his eyebrows and you chuckle.

“Yeah, this girl I know from school saw me when I was out and convinced me to come along with her and her friends. It was okay, I guess.”

“Buy anything?”

You shake your head. “I just watched them spend a shitton of their parents’ money.”

Yukhei laughs, his head tipping back. “Blow it all on fancy shoes and jackets, huh?”

You laugh too. “Jieun bought a 800,000 won dress for a dinner party her dad is throwing. She invited me but said I have to wear name brand if I come.”

“Well, you should go.” he shrugs, but you see something uncomfortable within it. “Y’know, network, meet some new people.”

You shrug back. “We’ll see. I’m worried about spending money right now with my aunt and uncle doing whatever they’re doing.” Yukhei hums, so you continue. “When does your dad get in?”

“Tomorrow at noon, I’m gonna take the bus to the airport to pick him up.”

“I’m so pissed that my aunt forced me to come here,” you mutter. “I can’t believe I’m missing my chance to meet the one other person in your family.”

“He doesn’t speak Korean or English anyway,” Yukhei says, but you can tell he’s disappointed too.

“I’m going to figure something out,” you say firmly. “I’m coming back to Busan. My parents wouldn’t have wanted this for me.”

Yukhei is quiet for a moment, and you start to get worried, but he speaks up just as you’re about to ask if he’s okay.

“I think it’ll be good for you to stay in Seoul for a while, Y/N.” he says, and your lips fall open.

“Wait, what?”

Yukhei looks down, his expression turning vague. “I want you to do more of what your classmates do. It’s not fair that you have the opportunity for that kind of lifestyle but you always end up staying with me.”

You shake your head. “Yukhei, we already talked about this, there’s a reason for that-”

“I want you to live your life, okay?” he cuts you off. “You’re going through so much and being tied down to one friend isn’t going to help. Just let your aunt and uncle handle the stressful things and be a teenager.”

“Did something happen?” you sit up, leaning closer to your phone. “Did my aunt tell you to say that?”

He shakes his head, a bitter-looking smile lining his lips. “Nobody told me to say anything, Y/N.”

“I don’t understand,” you say plainly. “You’ve never wanted me to hang out with those people before. I thought I explained what they’re like- they don’t care about others, all they care about is money and power.”

“But maybe they don’t!” Yukhei runs a hand through his hair. “You never even gave them a chance.” and quieter, as though he didn’t want you to actually hear: “Because of me.”

“Yukhei-” you start, but are interrupted again.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” he says simply, and the call ends, nothing but a black mirror reflecting your emptiness back at you.

You sit for a moment, and then in frustration, chuck your phone at the wall, ignoring the way that the screen shatters over the wood floor- another mess that someone else will have to clean up for you.

If you were to describe the next year and a half of your life, you would start with the word luxury.

You and Yukhei had drifted farther from each other than you ever had in all your years of friendship- and as much as you wanted to take part of the blame so he’d never feel guilty about it, it was him who’d done that. You tried endlessly to keep in touch with him, sneak back to the estate at random times and search him out, but it was like he was purposely avoiding you at every moment. He came to see you on your seventeenth birthday and for the Chuseok holidays, and that was about it.

The luxury comes into play because of Yukhei’s absence in your life. Jaehyun was ultimately unsuccessful in prying the company out of your aunt and uncle’s hands, and even after he became an adult they kept such close tabs on him that he gave up trying to fight the choices they made for him.

You’d done the same- Yukhei’s leaving you behind and the absence of both your parents and your brother (who’d been sent to Harvard to stay far away from the company) left you constantly feeling alone. You accepted Jieun’s consistent offers of going to parties and dinners and galas and “study sessions” (there wasn’t much studying done at those). You made friends, gilded, shells of friends who were all smiles and no compassion. When the word got out that the reason you stayed in Seoul that summer was because of your parents’ death, you got no visits from the people you were associating yourself with- you got dozens of bouquets of expensive fresh flowers and short notes of condolences. There was no reason to be bitter, since you’d ultimately done this to yourself, but compared to the excitement and passion for life you’d had before the accident, you never felt like yourself anymore.

Pulling up in the circular driveway in front of the mansion in Busan seems strange now, since it’s been so long. You thank the chauffeur as he gets out of the car with you, helping you with your bags before driving down to where the other cars are parked.

You’re about to start dragging the multiple suitcases you’d brought up to the front door, when a hand over yours stops you.

“I’ll get it, little sis,” Jaehyun says, voice full of warmth.

You melt in happiness, wrapping your arms around his torso immediately as he hugs you back, then spins you around, chuckling.

“Thank god,” you say when he puts you down. “I need someone I can trust if I’m going to be stuck here with the devil couple until my birthday.”

“Eighteen,” Jaehyun muses, picking up your luggage. “It’s a big day.”

You shrug. “Same old, same old. Jieun was disappointed that she wasn’t allowed to plan some big expensive party.”

Jaehyun sighs. “Jieun, Jieun. Is she your new best friend?”

You wince, looking down as you follow your brother up the steps to the doors. “Haven’t we talked about this?”

“Sure we have, but I still don’t get it.”

You’d like to reply that you don’t get it either, but the double doors swing open, and there is Aunt Seoyeon, in a calf-length white silk dress that’s far too fancy for just welcoming you back to Busan.

Of the things you’re still fiery about, your aunt and uncle taking up residence in the estate is at the top, along with them taking the company. It’s your house, that your parents built for you and Jaehyun to get away from the city in, and the fact that they’ve been here while keeping you away is still insurmountably frustrating.

“Welcome home, kids!” she pipes, falsity lining her every movement and word. “We’ve set up dinner- I figured you’d both be hungry after your trips here.”

“Thanks,” you say halfheartedly, as she turns and leads you and your brother into the house, down familiar halls past the double staircase until you reach the dining room.

You sit down, tuning out whatever your aunt and uncle are saying to the staff about the food, as Jaehyun quietly responds when they start asking him questions about Harvard. You look through the window as the others begin to eat at the starkly empty table- long enough for twelve but set for four. A part of you knows you’re not paying attention because you’re looking for someone else- will he be out there today? Or could he be in town, maybe even with other people… another girl? You wonder if he’ll avoid you when you’re both in the same place like he had before.

“Y/N,” your uncle’s voice says, and you turn your head from the windows, looking across the table at him. He smiles at you, a careful, curious look on a face too jubilant for someone who had practically stolen wealth from the cold hands of his dead brother. “Why don’t you tell us about your friend Han Jieun? Her father is an investor, right?”

“He owns an investing label,” you reply, finally picking up your spoon for the soup in front of you. “Jieun doesn’t care much for it, though.”

Your uncle nods, humming. “You’re still attending her parties and events, yes?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “I am.”

“I hope you’re not interacting with the waiters there!” Seoyeon chirps, laughing like she made a wonderful joke. You know its a dig at your friendship with Yukhei, and you don’t feel like pretending like that doesn’t bother you.

The conversation continues in a chopped, awkward fashion, as your aunt and uncle try to push you and Jaehyun into talking about the connections you’ve made and just about nothing else, while the two of you answer in the shortest possible ways.

By the time dinner is coming to a close, you can tell your legal guardians are getting very frustrated with you and your brothers’ attitudes.

“I think the two of you should go up to bed,” Seoyeon snaps just as someone is bringing out the fruit for dessert. “It seems that you’re both too tired to properly talk with us.”

“You’re right,” Jaehyun replies immediately. “Come on, Y/N, we can clock out early.”

“Pardon me?” your aunt scrunches up her pointy features, catching the tone in Jaehyun’s voice, but he’s already stood and pulled out your chair, and the two of you are out of the dining room before anything else can be said.

“They really piss me off,” Jaehyun mutters as you walk with him towards the stairs, two pairs of expensive shoes clicking against the marble floors.

“Me too.”

You’re halfway up the stairs when you see him.

He’s on the other side of the leftmost staircase, half-hidden by the curve of the structure, but in a way that tells you he was intending to be. He’s wearing the sort of work clothes he always felt “gross” in but you thought reflected his humble personality. He looks older than the last time you saw him, almost like he’s been weighed down with responsibility and its aged him past his eighteen years.

Yukhei looks up at you with the strangest expression- in that moment before he realizes you’ve caught him staring, that is. His eyes are round, brows just the slightest bit furrowed, and lips parted. He looks… it seems that he can’t believe you’re there, and it seems… ah, you don’t really know.

But then he sees that you’re looking back at him, and his face hardens into something unreadable. Yukhei ducks beneath the staircase, the weight of his heavy boots resonating in the large hall.

Jaehyun notices your distraction right away, but doesn’t say anything until you reach the hallway where both your rooms are.

“You two need to talk to each other.” he says simply, standing in front of your door.

You scoff, shaking your head incredulously. “Jae, that’s not- that’s just not going to happen. I’m not the one that can decide we’re friends again, he’s the one that cut me off like that-”

“He loves you, Y/N.” your brother says, his face the most serious you’ve seen in a long time. “He was afraid because he realized he loves you.”

You feel everything stop in that moment.

Love, as you have understood it, is not something that people fall into or out of easily.

In your parents, love was a connection that made them stronger together than they were apart, and brought them happiness unlike any other. Your own happy moments as a child often came from seeing your dad bring your mom a cup a coffee late at night in her office, sitting down and talking quietly together, content with just sitting near each other. Or in the car, when they would hold hands across seats, your mom running her thumb over the silver band on your dad’s ring finger, him doing the same when they sat in opposite places. But you had never seen anyone other than your parents in love.

And you hadn’t yet considered whether you would ever be or not.

“Where did you get that kind of idea?” you whisper, unable to look straight at your brother.

Jaehyun sighs. “You two are the only ones who don’t know. Mom and dad knew, I knew, Seoyeon and Sungjoo knew, the whole staff did, too.”

Your brows draw together, and you let out a sharp breath, shaking your head. “I don’t know what you mean. Yukhei and I aren’t… we were never… we-”

“Just look back on things tonight, okay?” your brother pats your cheek, a smile lifting up one side of his lips. “You’ll realize.”

Before you can respond, he’s pivoted and is down the hall, opening the door to his room and disappearing inside.

You wake up the next morning feeling groggy and anxious- you hadn’t fallen asleep for ages because of how much was on your mind and then your sleep was unstable, the kind of in-between state of consciousness where the body is struggling to stay under the deep water of sleep, and the mind is constantly pulling to break the surface.

You’ve always been more curious and confrontational than not, and this is no different- your instinct is to spend the day seeking out Yukhei and figuring out a way to force him to talk to you. So you take a long shower to try and gain some confidence and peace, and then dress in a simple sweater and jeans, trying not to look like the wealthy socialite image of yourself that you’re sure Yukhei has seen on your social media the past year and a half.

The staff kitchen is where you take your breakfast, but neither Yukhei nor his mom are anywhere to be found. You ask the old woman who made your eggs and toast for you if she’d seen him today and her only answer was that she thought he might be in the backyard.

You push open the back door, through the staff kitchens to the steps where Yukhei would often sit to lace up his boots. He isn’t there, but you weren’t really expecting him to be anyway.

The air is crisp today- kind of chilly for the summer, although you suppose it isn’t anywhere near the hottest days of the season. Accompanying the bite the air gives you as you step outside is a breeze that passes through the loose parts of your hair, and brushes the planes of your face, leaving you breathing in movement while you walk down the steps and out to the end of the paved part of the back porch.

It’s then that you catch sight of Yukhei.

He’s leaning against the base of the willow tree, head tipped back like he’s watching the sky, every few seconds lifting up the red apple in his hand to take a bite out of it. He must be taking a break, since his pants look stained with the green dew of fresh grass.

You take a bit of a detour, a curved path to get around to the back of the willow tree without Yukhei noticing. You don’t want him to see you coming and then run- not that you really think he’s so committed to avoiding you that he’d do that. You just don’t want to risk it, really.

“Ya, Wong Yukhei,” you call once you’re within the curtains of leaves. Your best friend turns, his head coming down from its tilted position so that his gaze lands on you. An eyebrow raises, and you see the very corner of his lip just slightly lift up.

“Morning,” he replies simply, then takes the last bite from his apple. You’re expecting him to go on, but he doesn’t and you end up at a loss for words.

Sure, you’d planned some sort of confrontation with Yukhei… but you hadn’t thought this far ahead.

“...Are you working today?” you finally say.

Yukhei shrugs, sticking the apple core in his pocket. “I work everyday, Y/N.”

You frown. “What about the weekends? Surely you have breaks.”

He raises his brows, then sighs, seemingly realizing something. “I guess your aunt and uncle never told you about the changes they were making. Anyway, even if schedules hadn’t changed for everybody I think they’d have done it to me regardless.”

“What do you mean by that?” you cock your head, brows drawing together. “Did they say something to you?”

Yukhei seems like he’s about to say something, but catches his words just before they leave his lips, and lets out a sigh that’s half a hiss instead. “...You shouldn’t worry about it.”

You take a breath to respond, but realize you still don’t know what to say.

It bothers you that it’s like this. Yukhei was never someone you ran out of conversations with- he has always been full of energy to supply endless stories that you could laugh at and talk about for hours. But now, it feels like there’s something between you, whether it be tension or awkwardness or unexplained history.

So you say the one thing that comes to mind every time you’ve thought of Yukhei since that call a year and a half ago.

“I really miss you.”

His expression doesn’t change, which kind of worries you, until he replies, low voice quiet and nearly swept away by the breeze.

“I missed you too.”

You don’t jump back into your friendship with Yukhei immediately. It takes a few days, maybe even a couple weeks, before you feel the same level of comfort around him that you used to. He can tell from the beginning, you think, that it’s you who has become nervous around him, the worry of him cutting you off again never quite leaving the back of your mind.

He proves it to you, though, that he won’t do it again. He sneaks with you around the estate at wicked hours, leads you through staff doors to quiet rooms where you can sit together without the concern of being caught by your aunt and uncle. There’s a rush to it, knowing that you’re not allowed to see each other, and doing it anyway.

The only times you can feel Yukhei’s past disillusionment coming through is when he catches names like Han Jieun’s appear on your phone, and you generally turn away with an apologetic face and answer.

But even if you answer her calls, you turn down her endless invitations to come back to Seoul for the summer.

It’s one of those nights where you and Yukhei are out by the willow tree, in light clothes because the heat has begun swelling deeper and deeper into the hours on the clock, when you ask him if what Jaehyun told you is true, and your best friend tells you that it’s the truest thing he knows- and you fall into something you’re worried you will never return from.

Jaehyun notices that something is different not even a week after that night- raising his eyebrows when he catches you smiling to yourself, and then nodding along with a knowing look. You don’t mind that he knows. He’s the only one that can, anyway.

You spend early summer mornings drunk on the taste of Yukhei’s lips, and you struggle to imagine how the two of you had forced yourself apart for so long. A part of you, though, knows summer won’t last forever, and you don’t know what you’ll do when you go back to Seoul this fall. It’ll be your last year of high school, but you can’t help but wonder how your already secretive relationship will continue across the length of the country.

It’s two weeks before your summer is set to be over when your aunt and uncle call you into the dining hall. You sit down, facing the both of them as they are beside each other, and prepare yourself for what you’re assuming this is about- that they’ve found out about you and Yukhei. You can’t think of anything else that would bring this kind of formal setup.

“Y/N,” Seoyeon begins, and you clench your teeth in preparation. “You’re turning eighteen soon, yes?”

...Wait, what?

“Yes?” you reply, tilting your head curiously. “Why?” Your aunt and uncle share a look, and suddenly your heart drops, knowing this definitely isn’t about you and Yukhei.

“We know we didn’t ask this of Jaehyun, but since you’re the second child and a young lady, we were thinking, that for the best possible future for you and for the company, it seems like a good idea to-”

Seoyeon cuts off your uncle. “We’re arranging a marriage for you.”

A marriage.

The noun repeats itself in your mind, over and over as you struggle to reply. A marriage. At eighteen years of age. An arranged marriage.

“...What?”

Your aunt lets out a breathy chuckle, reaching across the table and patting your hands that are resting on the tablecloth. “Now, I know it seems out of the blue, but we’ve really thought a lot about this. You do have a choice between two young men around your age whose parents we’ve been in contact with- I didn’t want to make all the decisions for you, of course.”

You’re stunned out of your mind- you can’t find anything to say.

“It’ll be a good inheritance,” your aunt continues. “And you won’t have to worry about finding a husband later in your life. Really, there’s no drawbacks here, so I hope you’ll just be content with picking between your suitors today.”

You can’t very well expose your relationship with Yukhei suddenly to get out of the marriage- you doubt it would have any sort of impact other than getting Yukhei and his mom fired, so all you can do it blankly nod, watching your aunt pull out two strangely investigative-looking files for you to look at.

You barely skim over them; choice one, Kim Jungwoo, choice two, Mark Lee. You see the words “speaks English” on Mark Lee’s file and choose him because of that, the whole process taking you just under a minute.

“I’m so glad to see that you’re not fighting us on this, Y/N,” Seoyeon says with what you could hope to describe as a proud smile. “You really have grown up well.”

“Thanks,” you mumble. “I think I’ll head back upstairs now.”

You turn to go, but Seoyeon calls after you shamelessly. “I’ll send you Mark’s number! You’ll meet him in just a few days, so prepare yourself!”

You sit under the willow tree on a bench that Yukhei dragged out a few weeks ago, your left side pressed against his right, left hand intertwining with his right, his thumb sweeping affectionately over the back of your hand. The sun is setting- the only reason you’re out here at this time is because your aunt and uncle happened to leave to “take care of some things” in Gwangju. It feels nice, though, to have some time where you don’t have to feel that thrill of possibly being caught. You can just be a normal couple for once.

You’d suggested going out to the willow tree as soon as Seoyeon and Sungjoo left, and Yukhei hadn’t questioned it at all, following you outside with a smile that sang adoration. He loves the willow tree just about as much as he loves you, you think. He’s always been nostalgic like that.

“You seem sad.” Yukhei’s low murmur has you glancing up at him, finding his eyes already on you. “Are you okay?”

A sharp pain stings your heart when you match his gaze. How are you supposed to tell him what you were told this morning? When he looks at you like someone could only dream of being looked at? When you have each others’ past, present, and future in your hearts, and the idea of letting go of any of them hurts you enough to make a reality like that seem catastrophic- how can you?

You know that this secret relationship has been harder on Yukhei than it has on you. Even if he kisses you with fervency and passion, you can tell there are days when he hesitates. He hesitates like continuing to love you may be the wrong choice for him, and he realizes it in those small, intimate moments. You realize it too, in times where he sighs heavily and puts his head in his hands when he thinks you aren’t looking, or when you catch him and his mom having serious discussions in the kitchen as you pass by, or he holds onto you with an extra desperation that seems like he’s preparing himself to lose you.

Yes, you have always been more confrontational than not, but now, Yukhei isn’t someone who you can easily bring those sort of things up to. Maybe you’ve become more of a coward since you understood your feelings for him, but you try to avoid anything that might be too hard to talk about.

“I’m okay,” you whisper, leaning your face against his shoulder and turning your body into him. You don’t want to think of Mark Lee, of Seoyeon and Sungjoo and the way they’ve torn the future you were supposed to have apart piece by piece. You just want to sit here under the setting sun and love and be loved.

Yukhei hums, nodding. You can feel the movement of his head above yours. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Mark Lee’s number in your phone is still untouched by the time a Lamborghini pulls up in your driveway a few days later and he, accompanied by his mother and father, step out of it, beginning to walk up to where you, your aunt and uncle, and Jaehyun are standing in front of the house.

Seoyeon had a red viscose jersey dress from Gucci shipped in this morning, and had the butler at your Seoul suite send the Louboutins you’d left there too, emphasizing that you had to look your best for this meeting. You feel a little silly in the bright red and black ensemble, having gotten used to more casual clothing over the summer, but seeing that Mark and his family are dressed up in equally expensive wear, you relax. Well, about as relaxed as you can be.

You know you should have told Yukhei about the arranged marriage before the Lee family’s arrival, you know he’ll probably find out today via someone else’s words, and it brings a shame on you that you know you deserve. But that night a few days ago, you just couldn’t do it, and pretending it wasn’t happening was all too easy after that. You’re just dreading his reaction.

“Park Seoyeon, Kim Sungjoo,” Mark’s father calls as the party of three approaches. “What a beautiful property you have here.”

“Hello again,” your uncle greets. “We’re glad to welcome the three of you to it.”

Seoyeon nudges you forward with a blinding, all too plastered on smile. “This is our niece, Y/N, and our nephew Jaehyun.”

Taking the hint, you bow slightly, offering a quiet hello.

“And our son Mark,” says his mother, placing her hand on her son’s shoulder as he smiles shyly at you.

Mark isn’t exactly what you expected. For some reason, even after briefly seeing his picture, you’d formed an idea of him in your head- something like Gaston from Beauty and the Beast. You’re not sure why, but the whole arranged marriage deal had you thinking he would be drastically different from you and show up thinking you’d become his property. However, despite his no doubt wildly expensive suit and carefully styled hair, Mark Lee looks approachable, kind, even handsome, and you don’t believe your prejudice of him is accurate at all.

“Hi,” he says sheepishly, bowing to your aunt and uncle and then to you and Jaehyun.

“Ah, what a gentleman,” Seoyeon says, even though nothing has really directly indicated that about Mark. “Let’s head inside, shall we?”

The chefs have cooked up a meal of endless courses, which you saw as you peeked into the kitchen window on your way to the dining room. You withhold a sigh, anticipating how long today will be.

Your aunt directs you to a specific seat, and then places Mark directly across from you and your aunt on your left. She urges you to talk to him quietly as her and the other adults get into conversation, Jaehyun at the other end of the table looking very obviously like he’d rather not be here.

You don’t initiate any sort of conversation, but Mark clears his throat as the first few dishes are set down.

“So,” he starts, nerves evident on his face and in his mannerisms. “My dad told me you speak English?”

You nod, picking up your spoon and taking a long sip of soup before answering. “I was better when I was young, but I’m not bad.”

Mark nods. “Have you always lived in Korea?”

“Yes.” you reply simply. “Have you?”

“No,” Mark shakes his head. “I lived in Canada until a few years ago.”

“Ah,” you nod. You know really you should continue the conversation, but you just… your mind isn’t on Mark or the marriage or the dinner at all. Your mind is on how the curtains in the dining room are drawn wide open, and Yukhei could walk by at any time.

“I think I saw you at a gala once,” Mark says, drawing your attention back to him. “You’re friends with Han Jieun, right?”

“I suppose,” you shrug. “We’re not that close.”

“Have you met her boyfriend?” Mark asks, and seeing your confused expression, he adds, “Kim Doyoung?”

“Ah,” you gesture in recognition. “Yes, Doyoung. I’m not fond of him, though. He’s always a bit stiff with her friends.”

Mark snickers. “That’s Doyoung for you.”

“Are you friends?”

He shrugs. “Sort of. He’s very much the rich type, you know? Like Jieun.” You raise your eyebrows and Mark’s eyes shoot wide open. “Oh, sorry, that was pretty rude, I don’t mean anything by it, just-”

You wave him off. “No, you’re exactly right. They are that type.” then, in a quieter voice to keep your aunt from hearing: “That’s why I’m not close with Jieun and her circle.”

Mark chuckles. “Same here. I guess we’re sort of in the same boat.”

“I suppose so.”

After a generally-less-awkward-than-expected dinner, your aunt and Mark’s mom insist that you show him around the mansion and the rest of the estate, despite Mark saying that it really was okay if you didn’t.

You hadn’t seen Yukhei yet, and you could only pray you could at least make it through tonight without him finding out, but walking the grounds would certainly make it harder.

You start by leading Mark out of the dining room and down the wide halls until you’re back at the front hall with the double staircase.

“Everything connects to here,” you tell him.

“I like the stairs,” he comments, an impressed look on his face. “Fancy.”

You don’t spend long in the house; briefly you show him the library and the small theatre, and then you head outside, hoping to walk once around the house and then come back inside.

You start from the front, since the gardens wrap from the front of the mansion down the side and open out into the back property that you’re so familiar with.

“Pretty,” says Mark when you head into the organized groups of hedges and flowers.

You nod. “My mom picked everything.”

He stills. “I- I’m sorry my parents didn’t give their condolences. It’s really terrible… I really can’t imagine- I… I’m really sorry.”

You look down as you walk, his apology bringing back those weeks just after your parents’ deaths, when it seemed that every time someone spoke to you it was to tell you something similar. “Don’t worry about apologies. It’s clear to me that you’re a sympathetic person.”

“About that, Y/N… I,” he starts but stops, shaking his head with a sharp sigh. “I know this really isn’t the best situation. Like, we’re both pretty young and we’re getting thrown into this whole arranged marriage thing, but I hope at least we can be friends.”

The two of you stop in a circular clearing, Mark stuffing his hands in his pockets nervously.

“I just, I get the feeling that this isn’t really what you wanted and I understand that, because like, it is marriage after all and we kind of aren’t getting to live our lives freely and-”

“Marriage?”

A cold hand grasps your heart, and you whip your head to the left, seeing exactly who you were hoping you wouldn’t see tonight.

And Yukhei looks as pained as you had predicted.

“Sorry, who are you?” Mark asks politely, turning to face Yukhei.

“Y/N,” Yukhei says, ignoring Mark. Your heart tugs at the way he says your name, already a note of pleading within his tone. “Tell me I heard that wrong.”

You dig your nails into your palms as you stare back at him, burning tears welling up in the back of your eyes, at a loss for words.

“I- I think I’m missing something here,” Mark says, looking frantically between you and Yukhei. “Should I go?”

Yukhei’s eyes sweep over to Mark, tilting his head when they land on him. “Tell me who you are.” His jaw has tightened, tension evident in his every movement.

Mark holds his hands up defensively. “I’m Mark Lee,” he replies. “Hey man, just let me know if this is a personal thing-”

“I’m sorry Mark,” you cut in, placing your hand lightly on his shoulder. “Would you be offended if I talked with him for a minute?” You don’t miss the way Yukhei’s eyes snap right to your hand touching Mark, and you lift it right away.

Mark shakes his head. “No, no, that’s fine, we can talk tomorrow though, right?” you nod and he nods back quickly. “Okay, sure, um, I’ll walk around a bit?”

“I’ll meet you back at the front in fifteen minutes,” you assure him, and seemingly ready to escape the clearing that feels thick with tension, Mark turns and heads back the way you came, footsteps fast.

You turn back to Yukhei, finding him regarding you with a look of clear betrayal. You open your mouth to talk, but he beats you to it.

“You’re marrying him.” he bites out, his lip trembling. A wave of guilt washes over you as he shakes his head, then throws it back to look up at the night sky, running his hands through his hair over and over in a show of frustration.

“Yukhei,” you call softly, but the way he groans stops you from continuing.

“Please just wait,” he says, wiping his hands over his face as he starts pacing. “Just give me a second.”

You do as he asks, but you can’t stop the way your hands shake fervently, even as you try to clasp them together, and you can’t help the hiccups that accompany the beginning of tears as the first few drop from your lower lashes onto your cheeks.

He looks over at you once he hears the sound of your crying, but you can tell he’s not quite ready to drop his mistrust and come comfort you.

“What happened, Y/N?” he half-shouts, clearly trying to control the volume of his voice but the emotion of it making that hard. You take in a choked breath as you watch the tears start spilling from his eyes. “I thought we- I thought I was good enough, for once, I thought that- I thought that finally I could have something other people don’t have! I thought that for once I would be-” he cuts himself off with a strangled cry, turning away from you and shoving his face into his hands, his shoulders shaking as he sobs.

“Yukhei,” you call again, voice tight and desperate. You’re not sure if he’ll want you to touch him, you’re afraid of overstepping because of what you’ve done to him. “Please listen, Yukhei,”

He lifts up a hand and wipes at his face again, then turns, swallowing down his tears for a moment as he gestures for you to talk. “Tell me then, tell me why.”

You step from side to side, taking a moment to try and find the right words, hands shaking as you hold them up the way that you always do when you try to explain things. “I… I love you, okay? You have to know that, you have to believe it, I love you and not him, okay?”

Yukhei bites his lips, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, and doesn’t reply, so you keep talking.

“I don’t have a choice. I found out a few days ago, my aunt made me pick between two people for a marriage that she arranged, she said that it’s for my inheritance and didn’t leave me room to argue. I couldn’t tell her about us, you understand, right?”

At this, he shakes his head wildly, then snaps at you the loudest that he ever has. “No, Y/N! I don’t understand! I don’t understand your rich folk politics, I don’t understand why you make things more complicated than they are, I don’t understand why it’s hard to tell someone that you’re in love! I don’t understand why I’m not good enough for you!”

“You are good enough for me!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up. “I thought you knew that! I never wanted you to feel like you’re not!”

“You’re the only one that thinks that way, Y/N,” he chokes out. “Ahh, ah, why did I do this to myself?”

“Yukhei,” you repeat desperately. “Yukhei, I can’t tell her because she’ll fire you, don’t you see? She’ll fire you and your mom, and I-”

“She’s already doing that!” he snaps, and suddenly, everything feels like the glass that was dropped has shattered.

“...What?” you whisper weakly, finally catching his tired eyes so that you’re looking into them. He looks unbelievably drained, that heaviness that you’ve noticed on him for weeks seeming more prominent now than ever.

“She’s already doing that, Y/N.” he repeats quietly, biting his lip again. “Your aunt and uncle are firing half the staff once you and Jaehyun leave.”

You can’t do anything but stare at him, lips parted, in absolute shock. “She can’t do that,” you manage. “No, they can’t do that!”

Yukhei looks defeated, finally reaching forward and taking your hand, pulling you towards him until he has you pressed against his chest, resting his chin atop your head as you continue crying into his shoulder, mumbling a series of “no, they can’t”s into his plain white shirt.

He sways you, and you feel a few more wet drops land on your hair as the two of you hold each other, crying, in the gardens that the mother you wish you could talk to in this moment designed for you when you were young.

“I know you love me,” Yukhei murmurs into your hair. “I’m sorry I made it seem like you’d done something bad.”

“I should have told you right away,” you respond, pressing tighter to him. “I was going to, when we sat out under the tree a few nights ago, but I just couldn’t.”

“At least this way I met the guy,” he says, chuckling, and you let out a breathy laugh as well.

“I won’t marry him, Yukhei,” you tell him, sure of yourself as you speak. “I will find a way for us.”

He doesn’t reply for a while, and you start to get worried, until he says, “You told him fifteen minutes. You should probably go.”

You pull away, looking up at him. “Are you sure?”

Yukhei nods. “It’s not fair to worry him.”

You regard him, affection filling every part of your being. You reach up with one hand, gently tracing the planes of his face with your fingers as his eyes flutter shut. “You are the kindest person on this planet.”

His eyes open, and he places the softest kiss on your forehead. “I will see you tomorrow. Sleep well, Y/N.”

Mark’s family leaves at around 11:45 pm, Mark not having questioned the way you took him upstairs after you found him in front of the house so that you could fix your makeup so that it didn’t look like you’d just cried. You’d profusely apologized for the situation and explained that the reason why you didn’t seem enthusiastic about the marriage had to do with the fact that you were very much in love with someone else. He smiled and told you he understood, and that the both of you still had time to figure out if there was a way to get out of it.

You did sleep well, that night, for how much had happened. You dreamt of your mother, her soft fingers brushing your hair away from your face and telling you words that were certainly wise but that you forgot as soon as you woke up in the morning.

Jaehyun knocks on your door in the morning, finding you with messy hair, puffy eyes, and in your silk pajamas.

“What?” you grumble, never having been a morning person.

Your brother’s expression is serious. “Come to my room with me. I have to show you something.”

Jaehyun leads you through his room, locking that door, and then to his office, locking that one behind him too.

“What are we doing, spying on someone?” you ask quizzically at his apparent paranoia.

“No,” he replies, sliding into one of the two office chairs in the room, patting the other one so as to suggest you sit on it. You do, and he continues talking. “I’ve found something important about mom and dad’s accident.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

The police had told you and Jaehyun that the accident was merely that- an unfortunate turn at the wrong time and someone else running a red light. The other driver had escape unharmed but paid a ton of money to your family since the accident had been fatal. You’d never met him or wanted to, knowing that he had been the cause of your orphanage.

“I mean that I got my friend to dig into the police camera recordings, you know, the ones they use to catch people who run reds.” Jaehyun shakes the mouse to get his computer to turn on, and does some quick clicking around. “He found the day mom and dad crashed.”

“Jae, I don’t want to watch it,” you say feebly, already feeling sick as the still beginning of the video pops up on Jaehyun’s screen. Your brother turns to you, his face stony.

“Y/N, I’m going to tell you something now that you have to swear on your life you won’t repeat anywhere else.”

You frown deeper. “What?”

“Swear it.”

“I swear.”

Your brother nods, then sighs heavily. “I know it seems far fetched, but I’m looking into more evidence now- it’s just that watching this had me thinking, and I really do think that-”

“What is it Jaehyun?” you interrupt.

He looks at you, swallowing nervously. “I think that uncle Sungjoo orchestrated mom and dad’s death.”

“What?” you exclaim, and he hushes you.

“Look, they can’t by any means find out that I’m researching this. If it’s true and they did purposefully kill mom and dad I’m sure they could find a way to do it to us, too.”

You shake your head. “Jae, you know I’d trust you over them any day, but you have to explain this, and well.”

“I’ll skip to the important part of the video.” he says firmly, and speeds through the crash, then moves the screen so that it’s halfway covered by another browser, covering up the car your parents were in so that only the other car is showing.

The driver steps out, and looks absolutely calm as he watches the scene you can’t see, then pulls out his phone as another car pulls up from down the street. The driver of the second car gets out, and seems to have a short but unfazed conversation, before the second man gives a sharp nod and gets back into his car, driving away. The one who crashed puts his phone to his ear, and the video ends.

Jaehyun turns to you. “Seem weird?”

You tilt your head. “Yeah, actually. Really weird.”

Your brother nods. “What makes it weirder- look.” he rewinds a little to when the second man gets out of his car. “The camera didn’t catch his license plate, but I recognized him after watching a few times. It’s uncle Sungjoo’s business partner Choi Youngchul, the one who replaced Kang Hyungdon in the finances department at the headquarters in Seoul.”

“So then…” you sigh, eyebrows drawing together. “What would that entail?”

“I think it’s some sort of business deal,” Jaehyun says, leaning back in his chair. “The driver crashes into our parents on that left turn in the middle of nowhere, and ideally for him they die. The driver gets paid big bucks to keep quiet, and Youngchul is the one paying. Sungjoo takes over the business once our parents are out of the picture, and gets Youngchul the job at the headquarters. My guess is that eventually they’ll try to sell the company and leave us with nothing.”

You slump back in the chair, tipping your head back and sighing heavily. It’s a lot to think about, so suddenly. It’d been two years since your parents’ death and at this point you had accepted it, even if from time to time you still end up crying yourself to sleep when you think of them. Being confronted with the idea that it hadn’t been an accident at all brings the suffering of that first day back.

“...Well then, what do you suppose we do about it?”

Jaehyun scoffs. “We aren’t doing anything. I told you so you wouldn’t be completely in the dark, but you can’t get too involved in case they find out. You can convince them you didn’t know anything about my plans and get out safe that way.”

You stare blankly at your brother. Are you in the mood to argue with him?

Not really.

“Fine. But you have to update me at least once a month. Are you just going to try to collect more evidence about the deal thing?”

He nods. “I have a few people working on it already, and whatever intel they send me I’ll relay to you. Don’t actively search for anything, but if you happen to find something out make sure you tell me.”

“Got it,” you say, nodding your head. Jaehyun looks at you solemnly, and you cock your head in question. “What?”

“I’ll get the company back for us, Y/N,” he tells you seriously. “We’ll have the future mom and dad wanted for us.”

You both stand, you hug your brother tightly, wishing with all your heart that he is wrong about your aunt and uncle, simply because if he’s right, the tragedy in your life will multiply and multiply. And you’re not sure what your limit is.

The next day, Jaehyun leaves for Seoul with the excuse that he has some friends to meet up with before going back to America. Your aunt and uncle encourage him to make connections, all proud smiles, but your brother looks back at you with a knowing expression that tells the whole story. He’s only going to Seoul to further investigate his idea.

You spend the rest of the day in the library, reclining on a big armchair, occasionally texting with Mark so you two can get to know each other. In the event that your uncle didn’t in fact orchestrate your parents’ death and you aren’t able to take over the company, you want to be prepared to marry Mark. It’s the last thing you want to do, but life hasn’t exactly gone in your favor for a long time.

You know Yukhei must have been looking for you for the whole day by the way he throws open the library door around the time the sun is setting. His hair is mussed and hands dirty after a day of work, but your heart swells when he walks quickly across the big room and draws you from your seat and into a long kiss.

It’s only as you’re kissing him that you realize something about it is wrong.

“Hey,” you whisper, pulling away. His eyes remain squeezed close and he rests his forehead against yours, hands gripping your waist tightly. “Are you okay?”

Yukhei lets out a shaky breath, slowly opening his eyes to look at you. “I need to tell you something.”

You frown, fingers that had been intertwined behind his neck slipping down to hold onto his arms- you feel like suddenly you need traction to support whatever he’s about to say. “What is it?” you ask weakly, unsure of what to expect.

Yukhei takes a deep breath, looking away from you, before looking at his feet as he talks. “My mom and I are going back to Hong Kong.”

Your stomach drops.

“You’re… you’re leaving?” you manage to say, hands shaking as they hold onto him.

He nods, teeth pulling on his lip. “My mom thinks there’s no point in staying here if-” he seems to cut himself off, and think of something else to say. “...If she can’t work here.”

“I’ll employ her,” you rush to say. “I can find her a job, I could find her dozens- tons of people I know always need help and, and anyway, you’re graduating this year so once you finish school you can go to college here or even, well, you speak so many languages you could find a good job no matter what, so really-”

“Y/N.” he says softly, stopping your desperate rant. You look into Yukhei’s eyes, and see profound regret. “It’s already decided. I convinced her to wait until you get married, but once that happens, I’m leaving.”

You frown again, but this time out of confusion. “But I might not even be getting married. Or even if I am, not for years.”

Yukhei chuckles, but there’s no happiness to it. “I guess you weren’t paying attention during your meeting dinner. Jaehyun told me they set the date for September 25th.”

September 25th? Barely four weeks after you’re starting school, meaning it’s only just over a month away from now.

Suddenly, the realization that all of this is real- Jaehyun’s theory about your parents, your marriage that will come before you even graduate high school, the person you love leaving you for what seems like forever-

You choke up, throat feeling tight and hands trembling. Yukhei tries to steady you as you stumble, but you push him off, reaching down to grab onto the arms of your chair and sink down, clenching and unclenching your fists as you fight off tears.

“Y/N,” Yukhei says faintly, kneeling down in front of you and reaching for your hands, but you pull them away, curling up into yourself as the onslaught of tears you desperately didn’t want to come rush over you.

It’s probably the ugliest you’ve ever cried. You’ve shed tears so many times in the past couple of years, but never like this. Never gasping for air because it feels like there’s blocks of iron on your chest, never choking out incoherent sounds because your throat is drawn so tight it’s hard to breathe, never felt so crippled and weak.

“Baby,” Yukhei whispers, a twinge of anguish in his voice- but you can’t even look at him. “I’m so sorry, you know that right? I’m so, so sorry.”

“Please go,” you grit your teeth and force out. “Please.”

“What?” you hear the disbelief in his tone, and for a moment regret even asking him to leave. “You want me to go?” “Get out, Yukhei,” you mumble, voice quivering. “Now.”

You can feel his hesitation, can feel the way he wants to take your hands and force you to look at him and tell him why you’re like this.

But Yukhei has always been cautious of your desires, and so after a few moments where the silence of speaking is filled only but the sound of your sobs, you hear the library door click shut.

After a few minutes of incessant pain and tears, you manage to slow your breathing and relax just a little, still gripping the arms of your chair.

Maybe it’s best to separate yourself from Yukhei now, so that the pain when you have to stand on that white altar and say that you’ll be with Mark Lee through sickness and health won’t be as terrible.

Maybe it’s best, so that when you look into the dancing crowd at your wedding, you don’t catch the eye of someone who is leaving the next day and decide to run away with him.

Or maybe, you’re a coward, and you can’t face losing another person that you love.  

Mark invites you to a party on his friend Doyoung’s yacht down by Jeju Island, and you say yes immediately, ready for a reason to get away from the damage you’d done to your and Yukhei’s relationship.

Your future husband picks you up from the estate in his far too expensive car, making the drive to the Busan airport a little more fun than it probably would have been if a chauffeur drove you two. The plane tickets are last minute, but your wealth speaks for itself, and the last two seats on the last flight of the day to Jeju are yours and Mark’s in minutes.

Mark chats to you in a way that makes you feel like he knows you’re unhappy, but doesn’t feel right asking you about it, so he’s just trying to distract you. You welcome his explanations about things he used to do in Canada and people that he knows and really good food the two of you should eat sometime- the effort to distract you somewhat works.

You land in Jeju about forty-five minutes after boarding, and Mark quickly hails a taxi to take you to the beach where Doyoung’s yacht is- and once you see it, you understand why Mark was excited.

It’s a bigger boat than your family’s, and it makes a huge impact in the darkening sky, lit up with gold and white bulbs and a shining blue pool on deck. There’s people all over the things, and just walking up the stairs to board you can tell that the drinks here are all going to contain alcohol.

“Y/N!” you hear a high pitched voice call as soon as you step onto the deck, Mark just behind you. There is Han Jieun, in a short sequined black dress with matching black nails wrapped around a champagne flute, red lips pulled into a tipsy smile. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

You smile, embracing her so she doesn’t fall over in her tall heels. “I should have figured you’d be here.”

She giggles in the pretty tinkling way that she always does. “Duh! Doyoung had the party because I asked, isn’t that so sweet of him?”

Ah, yes, Doyoung happens to be her boyfriend.

“So sweet,” you nod, settling her back on her stilettos.

Jieun seems to notice Mark, who had been awkwardly hanging behind you. “Oh! Mark Lee! Are you two together now?”

Mark steps forward, looks at you with an expression that says ‘what is the answer to that question’, and chuckles to fill up space while you think.

“Tentatively,” you say, with that exact word lining your tone.

Jieun gives you a knowing smile and a long ‘ahhh’, her face crinkling up into an amused smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell,” she winks, laughing again. That doesn’t really make sense to you, but you just smile and nod. “Anyway, come on, it’s weird just standing here at the front!”

You look over at Mark, and he just shrugs. “Why not?”

The next thing you know, you’re at the bar next to the pool, significantly more drunk than you’ve ever been, laughing as Mark and some of Jieun’s friends try to convince you to jump into the pool.

“But my dress is expensive!” you whine, but don’t fight the girls as they drag you from your seat at the bar and start walking you towards the pool.

“Come on, Y/N!” one of them says, laughing through her words. “I’ve never seen you have this much fun!”

“Woo! Let’s get it Y/N!” Mark shouts from the bar, and you look over your shoulder to see him cackling, his friend Sicheng that you were introduced to… at some point, rolling his eyes dramatically at Mark’s antics.

“Okay!” you exclaim, giggling as you push your hair off your shoulder. “I’ll do it!”

“I have your phone, don’t worry!” Mark calls to you, and you send him a thumbs up, kicking off your heels as even in your intoxicated state you can remember that those aren’t worth getting wet.

The girls start chanting your name, and you even see Jieun and Doyoung appear from around the corner where they’d been passionately making out for a while. The people in the pool already are laughing, spilling vodka drinks as they desture for you to jump. You hear a count of one, two, three-

And you jump.

You’re not sure how you ended up on a way stiffer, smaller bed than either of yours, but as you sit up in the dark room, that first waking thought fades as the feeling of nausea sweeps over you, and you jump from the bed, pushing open the first door that you see and thanking whatever higher power that it’s a bathroom.

You throw open the toilet lid, and have the sense to grab your hair before leaning over the toilet bowl and proceeding to throw up all of the expensive drinks you must have had.

Mark Lee appears beside you so quietly that you jump from your tragic position when he places a hand on your shoulder, taking the hair you’d gathered up from your hand and softly telling you that it’s okay. You’re not sure what he means by that, but after a few minutes, you think you’ve thrown up as much as you can, and as soon as you sit back Mark pulls the lid down and flushes the toilet, letting go of your hair.

The two of you sit in silence for a while before you try to stand up weakly, your fiance rising to his feet to help you, before you stumble over to the sink, grabbing a packaged toothbrush and quickly wetting it, wishing there was toothpaste but utilizing a ton of water to get the taste of bile out of your mouth.

It’s only after you’ve significantly washed out the aftertaste of vomit that you turn to Mark, leaning back on the sink. He’s still wearing the outfit he was before… before the crazy night that you’re sure you had, but you can’t quite remember. Looking down at yourself, you’re not in the blue dress that you remember being in before.

“Where are we?” you ask, wiping at your eyes. “I can’t remember anything.”

Mark nods, a pensive smile crossing his lips. “We’re on Doyoung’s yacht. He gave us this room since you passed out a few hours ago.”

“Ahh,” you sigh, then purse your lips. “I hope I wasn’t too much trouble. I don’t think I’ve ever drank that much.”

Mark shrugs. “Not really. I was kinda drunk too, but I slept it off. I’m surprised you’re even up right now.”

You chuckle. “Me too.” A beat of silence passes, and for a moment there, in the small bathroom in a room of Kim Doyoung’s yacht, you can imagine that Mark is really someone that you could love. He is reliable enough to have stayed with you, trustworthy enough to have just let you be even though you were in a vulnerable state, and kind enough to have woken up just to be with you while you threw up. Maybe… maybe it won’t be so terrible getting used to Mark Lee.

“Your boyfriend called.” Mark breaks the silence with his quiet comment, looking down at his face. Your lips fall open, brows drawing together. Does he mean Yukhei? “I didn’t answer, but he left some messages and texted you, too. I think he must’ve seen that picture you posted after you jumped in the pool.”

First of all, you jumped in the pool?

Second of all, shit.

“Where’s my phone?” you ask, biting your lip. What an awkward thing for him to have to tell you.

Mark silently walks back into the bedroom and you follow him. He points at the nightstand on the left. “I’m gonna change in the bathroom since I’m up.” You nod, and he reaches into the dresser next to you, pulling out loose clothes that seem to match yours. Did he… did he change you out of your clothes?

“Jieun took your dress to wash,” Mark says, seemingly reading your mind. You think you catch a blush on his cheeks as he mutters the next sentence. “I wasn’t present.” He escapes quickly to the bathroom with the clothes in his arms, the door shutting quietly behind him.

You chuckle to yourself, then remember the whole reason you’d walked out here.

Walking over to the nightstand, you pick up your phone and turn it on. 4:47am. The time is accompanied by enough messages from Yukhei that you can scroll for a few seconds before reaching the bottom. You sigh and unlock your phone, first opening the texts.

From: lucas wong, man!!!!

[12:34am] Where did you go? I saw your photo.

[12:37am] Are you with Mark Lee?

[12:46am] Are you drinking? Tell me you’re not drinking when you’re out with him.

[12:51am] Who else is there?

[1:32am] Hey, are you okay?

[1:57am] Can you text me back? I just want to know if everything is okay

[2:33am] Y/N, I’m not joking please text me back nobody knows where you are

[2:42am] It’s getting really late, are you coming home? I’ll wait up for you okay

[3:01am] Please text me back as soon as you see this

[3:01am] please

You sigh deeply, chewing on your lower lip as you open the phone app and play his voicemails.

“Hey, Y/N… I um, I know you were upset at me, and I don’t want to intrude since you seemed like you didn’t want to talk but- um, I just want to know if you’re okay? I guess you’re not coming home tonight since it’s so late, but just let me know that you’re safe… I love you, you know? I… ah, neverm-”

“I’m just calling again since it’s past four… You’re in Jeju, right? I guess I kind of snooped around your friends’ social media, sorry, haha… Call me back, please.”

The guilt that washes over you as you hear his impossibly tired and yet very clearly stressed and worried voice is so much that it almost becomes painful. Your fingers tremble- should you call him back, or if you text that you’re alright, is that enough?

You shake your head. If you were in Yukhei’s situation, you’d want to hear his voice. It’s not fair to him to leave a text after worrying him like that.

The phone rings, and rings, and rings, and you’re about to give up and leave a voicemail when he answers, a sleepy mumble of your name coming through the receiver.

“Hey,” you whisper, and you hear a deep sigh of relief.

“You’re okay,” he mutters, and you hear the sound of rustling blankets. “I was worried.”

“I’m sorry,” you say reflexively. “I got drunk.”

There is a few seconds of silence. “...You didn’t- you didn’t do, um, do anything with Mark, right?” Yukhei says in the smallest voice you’ve ever heard from him.

Your heart sinks, realizing how many things he might have imagined happened to you. “No,” you reply quickly. “No, we didn’t. I swear on my life.”

“I believe you,” he says. “Are you coming home?”

You bite your lip, looking at the bathroom door. “I don’t know.”

“You’re in Jeju, right?”

“Yeah, a friend of Mark’s has a yacht. That’s where we are now.”

You hear Yukhei take a short breath. “Are you with him right now?”

Suddenly you feel more guilty, even though you and Mark haven’t done anything. “He’s changing in the bathroom.”

“So you slept in the same room then?” Yukhei mumbles, half a question and half not. “Did you have to?”

“I passed out,” you tell him honestly.

More silence. And then; “I’ll talk to you later. Come home soon.”

“I’ll try,” you reply, and he hangs up.

The door opens a few seconds after, and you’re sure that Mark was waiting for you to be done talking to Yukhei before coming out. He offers you a small smile as he walks over.

“Do you mind being in the same bed now that we’re not drunk?” he asks sheepishly, hands clasped behind his back.

You sigh, one part of you feeling like you’re betraying Yukhei, and the other part telling you that when you told him to leave and then came on this trip you were ending things with him. “...We’re both tired.” you tell Mark, and lay down on the sheets. “So it’s fine.”

He nods, walking to the opposite side and promptly settling down.

“Mark?” you say after a few minutes, half expecting him to be asleep.

He hums in indication that he’ll answer.

“I’m sorry I’m such a shit fiancee.”

He laughs, throwing you off. You roll over to face him, and he just smiles at you. “Whatever happens to us, Y/N, you’re a good person.”

You frown in confusion, ready to ask what he means by that, but Mark Lee shuts his eyes and tells you goodnight.

You end up spending a few more days in Jeju after letting your aunt and uncle know (they are proud of you for being sociable, is what Seoyeon says on the phone) and get to know Mark some more. You don’t tell him about what happened between you and Yukhei for fear that it might complicate things even more, but he seems content with both being your friend or at some point being more than that. You find that you like his company more than you’d initially expected, too.

By the time you return to Busan, there’s only a week left of summer, which means you have to head back to Seoul in a maximum of three days from now. You start packing the things you’d brought immediately, having them sent down to be taken in advance. You want to see Jaehyun before he leaves for America, too, so you’re planning on going early.

You know you should talk to Yukhei before you go, too.

But it just so happens that Jaehyun texts you the day after you get back from Jeju, telling you that your aunt and uncle showed up at your shared apartment in Gangnam and have their eyes on him. And to take advantage of that and do some snooping in their stuff while they’re gone.

[9:44am] Aren’t there cameras in their office?

[9:45am] Shit, yeah. I’ll have someone jam them

You sigh. Your limited understanding of technology is really holding you back in this whole ‘expose your family members as corrupt murderers’ thing, huh?

Jaehyun shoots you a text about half an hour later that just reads ‘done’, and you take that as the cameras being down.

You try to look as confident as possible when walking to your uncle’s office, knowing that since you are the only owner of this house that’s currently home, the staff won’t question you.

“Shit,” you whisper to yourself as you stop in front of the office door. It’s locked. Duh.

“Y/N,” a soft voice says from a few feet away, and you look up to see Yukhei’s mom, a somber, apologetic expression on your face. “I haven’t seen you in so long, my dear.”

You smile, bowing your head. “Yes, unfortunately.”

Mrs. Wong opens her mouth like she’s going to say one thing, then closes it, then decides to talk. “Is there anything I can do for you, sweetheart?”

An idea pops into your head, and you nod slowly. “Actually, yes.”

Mrs. Wong lends you the master key with no questions after you told her that your aunt has some paperwork in the office that you need to take back to Seoul with you.

Once inside the office, you look up at the camera in one of the corners on the ceiling, hoping it really is down. If not, you have no clue how you’ll handle explaining why you were searching through your aunt and uncle’s documents.

First, you look through the two desks, but there’s nothing more than letters updating the weekly growth for the company. Then you open the filing cabinets, thankful that those aren’t locked at the very least, and start rifling through paperwork, looking for the names of your parents as well as Choi Youngchul and Kang Hyungdon.

Nothing.

Sighing deeply, you sit down on your uncle’s office chair, shuffling the mouse to his computer around for a little until the screen lights up. Password protected, of course.

What could your uncle’s password be?

You try everything related to your aunt, or the house in Busan, or Gwangju, where they lived before, but nothing seems to work.

Hint?

The computer flashes the one word question at you, and you nod, as though it can see you, then come to your senses and click on it.

What I always wanted.

You frown. You’d already tried everything about the estate… what else did your uncle want?

...Well, if Jaehyun’s idea is right:

You skeptically type in your father’s name, and immediately, the computer unlocks and goes into your uncle’s home screen. The background is a photo of him and your aunt in front of your estate, which you narrow your eyes at.

Shaking off any annoyance, you open up the files app and start scrolling, opening only what really looks promising, since you know it’ll show the date last opened the next time Sungjoo goes on his computer.

After another half an hour of looking, you’re starting to believe this whole theory is completely incorrect and your aunt and uncle have done nothing wrong, when you realize you haven’t opened any of Uncle Sungjoo’s emails yet.

Taking a deep breath, you click on the email app and start scrolling through the trash, looking for anything between him and his wife, or Choi Youngchul. You know there’s no way anything incriminating would be among his regular emails.

“Ah,” you whisper to yourself as you see Choi Youngchul for the first time so far. You open the email thread, and immediately, your hands are over your lips instead of on the mouse.

From: Choi Youngchul

Subject: __________

Everything is done. Dead on impact, from what I could see.

To: Choi Youngchul

Subject: ________

The position is yours.

Your first thought is that you have an absolute idiot for an uncle- he should’ve deleted this conversation, really deleted it, as soon as it was over with.

Your second is to grab your phone from where you’d set it and take multiple pictures of the conversation, making sure to include everything that would show it really is from your uncle’s email account and not created. You also make sure to show the date, as you realize with a tightness of your throat is just a week after your parents’ death.

You slump back in the office chair after retracing all your steps and trying to clear any evidence that you’d been on the computer.

Jaehyun had been right.

Your parents were not in an accident.

And if it were not for your power-hungry aunt and uncle, you wouldn’t be an orphan.

You throw open the office door, shutting it behind you and locking it, wrapping the string attached to the key around your fingers as you clench your fists.

[11:17am] Send me all the evidence you have. I’m going to mom and dad’s lawyer.

[11:18am] Why? Did you find something?

You don’t answer until Jaehyun texts you again a few minutes later, telling you to come to Seoul as soon as you can, as your aunt and uncle are leaving in just an hour and you should be out of the house before they arrive home. You agree, and grab all your last minute things, stuffing them in a bag, calling your chauffeur and asking him to hurry here as fast as he can, flying down the left staircase in Prada flats.

“Are you leaving?” a hand on your arm stops you as you’re about to open the front door, bag slung over your shoulder. You turn to find Yukhei’s sad eyes looking down at you, his grip on your arm tightening.

“Yes,” you say simply. “Jaehyun needs help with something.”

He stares at you for a few seconds, breathing slowly, before he looks away, hand dropping from your arm. “You said we would talk.”

You look down too, knowing you had said that on the phone with him in Jeju. But you hadn’t exactly been expecting this to happen back then, had you? “I’m sorry. It’s short notice but it’s really important.”

“Okay,” he whispers, seemingly unable to now look you in the eye. “I hope you’ll come back soon.”

You know what he really means when he says this is that he wants to see you at least one last time before you get married.

“Don’t worry,” you say, confidence swelling up in you. “It’ll be sooner than you think.” You hesitate for a moment as he looks up, tilting his head in curiosity. Should you offer him a goodbye kiss in case this really is the last time you speak before your wedding? If you can’t get your aunt and uncle out of your life, that’ll be the case.

No. You’ll come back for him.

You turn and open the door, sweeping into the humid outdoors, expensive car waiting to pick you up outside.

There are more than a few people at the apartment once you walk in, Jaehyun having opened the door for you. One face you weren’t expecting to see looks up at you with an amused look in his pointy eyes.

“Kim Doyoung?” you can’t help but exclaim when you see him bent over a computer.  

“Thanks for not throwing up on any of the carpet,” he replies, smirking when your brother frowns.

“Sorry, what?”

“It’s nothing,” you assure him, patting his arm. “What’re you up to right now?”

“Putting things together, really.” he says. “What did you find?”

You bite your lip. “A confirmation.”

Jaehyun’s brows shoot up his face. “A what?”

You pull out your phone and then open the pictures, handing over the device so he can see. “It’s good enough to be used as evidence, right?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun says, a frown that looks more solemn than he recently had taking over his face. “It is.”

“Let me take a look,” Doyoung says, grabbing your phone from Jaehyun’s hand and taking it over to his computer.

You and Jaehyun sit down on his couch, your brother running his hands over his hair. He groans, agitation in his every movement.

“You okay?” you ask, and he nods, lifting his head to meet your eyes.

“They’re going to jail, Y/N. I promise.”

Two weeks later, you wait outside the attorney’s office for Jaehyun with two cups of steaming coffee. He’d insisted you go to school rather than attend the first meeting with your lawyer, who had also been your mom and dad’s lawyer in any time of crisis. After bringing the evidence you’d collected to the police, they’d agreed that it was necessary to further investigate, and within a week had charged your aunt and uncle with first degree murder, and were looking into Choi Youngchul and the driver who’d crashed into your parents.

You haven’t seen Sungjoo and Seoyeon since before you left for Jeju, what feels like an eternity ago, and now you’re dreading seeing them in a courthouse. Despite how poorly they’ve treated you the past two years and what they did to your parents, there is a part of you that remembers them as your family.

You shake that thought off as you see Jaehyun push through the heavy door of the office lobby, walking towards you and taking his coffee with a grateful smile.

“Thanks.”

You shrug. “No problem. What’d he say?”

“Pretty confident that we’ll win,” Jaehyun says, starting to walk back towards your apartment. He had emailed Harvard about the case and they enrolled him in online courses for the semester since he wouldn’t be able to leave Korea. “We have evidence, sympathy, and if worst comes to worse, more money than them.”

You snicker, rolling your eyes. “Yeah right, like you’d ever bribe a judge. I know your morals, Jae.”

Your brother looks over, smiling. “Yours too.”

“Hmm,” you nod. “So when’s the trial?”

“Not for a while,” Jaehyun says. “There has to be the bail hearing, and then they’ll be held in custody until the charges are confirmed. Then the trial will start.”

You hum again. “I wonder if they’ll plead innocent.”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “If they’re smart they’ll plead guilty and hope for a sentence where they’ll get out before they die. But I doubt it.”

“Good.” you say, sighing. “I hope they regret it, at least.”

“They will,” Jaehyun says in a self-assured tone. “By the way, have you talked to Yukhei recently?”

You bite your lip. “No, not since I came to Seoul two weeks ago.”

Jaehyun looks over at you, a knowing yet disappointed look on his face. “I figured. He texted me to ask if you’re doing well.”

“...He did?”

Your brother rolls his eyes. “You really frustrate me sometimes. I don’t understand why you push the kid away, especially now. You’re pretty much guaranteed a way out of that dumb marriage.”

You sigh. He’s right, considering what he’s just found out from your lawyer.

“I’ll call him later.” you state, trying to promise yourself more than Jaehyun. Your brother gives you a skeptical side-eye, but doesn’t say anything about it.

“Anyway, I was thinking in terms of the company…”

“See? You’re being very vague right now too.”

“Oh my god,” you mutter, tugging on your hair as you watch the television intently, shifting nervously around the couch. “Why is he so dumb? Get it together, Sihyun!”

“...What did Sooji say to you?”

“I don’t like guys that seem strange. And I don’t get crushes. I’m talking about you and me. It doesn’t matter what Sooji said. Go.”

“Let’s go talk in my room-”

“Ah, right! This was your building… Let go.”

You bite down hard on your lip as the door shuts behind Taehee and she starts crying, the ending music playing.

“No!” you whine. “How am I supposed to wait another week for the next episode?”

“I can’t believe you’re watching dramas at a time like this,” Jaehyun calls from the kitchen. “When are you gonna call Yukhei? You told me you would.”

Well, normally you’re not big into dramas, but the stress of imagining what you should say to Yukhei pushed you into procrastinating doing that by binging six episodes of Tempted after coming home.

“...I will.” you call back, voice weak.

“Do it now,” Jaehyun moves into the walkway leading to the kitchen, holding your phone between two fingers. “You have no excuse, since you just said that’s the last episode of that series until next week.”

“Fine,” you grumble, pushing yourself off the couch and towards your brother. “Give me my phone.”

Jaehyun smirks, which makes you immediately nervous. “Sorry. I lied. You won’t need it.”

You frown, narrowing your eyes. “What the hell does that mean? Jaehyun, seriously, give me my phone-”

Bzzz.

You and your brother look over to the screen where anyone outside the building who wants to come to your apartment has to buzz in for approval.

And there stands Wong Yukhei, the mediocre camera picking up a blurry image of him. But no matter how blurry it might get, you would always recognize him.

“Yah,” you snap, turning to your brother, who tries to snake away. “Did you organize this?”

“You were being dramatic,” Jaehyun raises a brow.

“This is messed up,” you sigh. “I haven’t even planned what to say to him.”

“You’ve known each other for almost ten years and you have to plan what to say to him?” your brother says exasperatedly. “Just let him in, Y/N.”

You sigh again, walking over to the buzzer and pressing OK without pressing the call button first. On the screen, Yukhei lights up with a tiny smile, and then disappears as he walks into the building.

Not even five minutes later, Jaehyun has evacuated to his room and there is a knock on the door.

You stop in front of the mirror by the door before you open it, brushing your hair back from your face and blending out some creases in your makeup with your finger. You’re unsure of why, but this meeting has you far more anxious than you’ve ever really been when it comes to Yukhei. Maybe it’s because you left in such a rush a couple weeks ago.

You steel yourself, and open the door, and are quickly enveloped in a tight, warm embrace, familiar arms wrapping themselves around your sides and a familiar chin pressing into your shoulder.

You’re too nervous to say anything, so you wait until Yukhei has had his fill of holding you before stepping just slightly away and looking up at him, taking in his expression.

He looks at you with a resolution you don’t often see on him. His brows are set, his big eyes folded across so they aren’t as wide, his lips slightly parted, but something about his gaze is final- for a moment, it scares you, because final could go in many directions. But then he speaks, and all the worry you’ve built up for weeks dissipates like the steam from a kettle of tea.

“Let’s be together.” Yukhei tells you. It’s not a question, it’s his most honest statement to you. “Wherever we go, whatever happens- let’s be together.”

And all you can do, is smile up at him, and as you reach up to draw his face closer to yours, whisper a very certain, “Let’s.”

[limulid-labs]

happy halloween!

[juniperwoodwell]

Eddie Diaz. "Thief"

•••••••••••••••

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4|Part 5|

Word count:844

paring: Eddie Diaz x F!Reader

Warning(s): Tiny bit of angst, fluff

(Gif not mine)

A few nights after the window incident, Eddie had invited y/n over for dinner on a night Christopher would be at a sleepover with one of his friends. A knock echoed through the house, alerting Eddie that his guest had arrived. He wiped off his hands on the towel he had over his shoulder. He opened the door with a slight smile on his lips. "Hiya, Ed," Y/n says happily as she steps over the threshold. "You're early," he states as he closes the door. "By like five minutes. What're you cooking up? Maybe I can help." Y/n says as she walks towards the kitchen. "It's nothing amazing, Just stuffed peppers and potato wedges." Eddie followed after her. "Really? Nothing special," she mocks jokingly.

"Thats like one of my comfort meals, and you know that. Also...You actually cook?" she asks, raising a brow. Once in the kitchen, she hopped onto one of the unoccupied counters. "Yes. Of course, I cook, what? Did you think I make my kid eat fast food or takeout every night?" He asked as he walked over to Y/n, standing in front of her. Y/n shrugged. "Well...I just thought since your mom-"  "I taught myself how to cook for Christopher. Don't worry. If Chris likes my cooking, I'm sure you'll like it too." He interjected as he subconsciously placed his hands on her knees. "This learning how to cook must be a new thing then," Y/n said as she put one of her hands over his; he chuckled and nodded. "I-Is something burning, Ed?" She asks; Eddie's eyes widen as he quickly walks over to the stove. "Phew, alright. They're okay," He says as he pulls the stuffed peppers out of the oven. "Oh good, wouldn't want your hard work to be ruined," she said teasingly. To her side sat the bowl of cooked potato wedges. She snatched a few and ate them. "Hey, I saw that." Eddie says as he plates the stuffed peppers, "Shaw WhUt?" Y/n says as she eats another wedge, her voice muffled by the food. Eddie chuckled and shook his head. "Come on, get down. Let's eat," he smiled at her as she hopped down from the counter and took a seat across from Eddie's. He places the plate of stuffed peppers on the table and then the bowl of wedges, gently smacking Y/n's hand away when she tries to steal another one "You little thief," he says, chuckling, taking his seat; they begin to eat dinner.

"This was fantastic, Eddie!" Y/n praises happily as she finishes her plate. "Told you that you'd like it," Eddie replies as he stands up and takes her plate. "Oh, do you want some help with the dishes?" she asks, standing up from her seat. "No, it's only a few things," he says to y/n. "Just sit and relax" Y/n shrugs at his comment before hopping onto the counter beside the sink, the side that doesn't have the strainer. "I meant at the table, but I guess that works too" Eddie smiled as he started to wash the dishes. A few moments of comfortable silence go by before Y/n speaks up, "So...are we gonna talk about the other day?" The question makes Eddie stop drying the dish in his hands; clearing his throat, he says, "What's there to talk about?" Y/n sighs. "That's a bit cold, Diaz." She says to him as she folds her hands in her lap, "I thought there might have been something, but maybe I'm wrong. I don't know what that was the other day. Still, I honestly wanted it to be something," She told him quietly, never looking at his face until she felt his hand on her wrist "Y/n...if the circumstances were different...then maybe there could be something between us. Still, with Christopher, work, and everything I've been going through recently, I just don't think it'd be good for either of us." He gently took her hand and gave it a soft squeeze; Y/n nodded a few times as she tried to think of the right words. Eddie sighs before moving to stand between Y/n's knees. "Ed-" he quiets her by pulling her into a hug; she wraps her arms around Eddie's waist "but when have we ever done anything good for us?" He says as he holds her, his forehead resting against her shoulder.

They stayed like that for a while, Telling each other everything without words. They both knew Eddie was right; it wasn't a good idea that once they pulled away from each other, they'd have to put these feelings away for a while..maybe even forever.

Silently Y/n ran her fingers through Eddie's hair. "How about tonight we just pretend we can have this?" she whispered, afraid that if she spoke any louder, the spell would break.

A/n: I'm thinking of making this a five-part series. I'm enjoying writing it. What do you think?

[weaponsdrawn]

yknow what, fuck it, sleep deprived properganda post for the litigation team. i think i know enough about these goobers to make a good point

SO like the properganda stated above yes they're work acquaintances that end up caring about each other more than anticipated, yeah thats like a good nutshell summary i wanna elaborate on that a bit more. also just say some stuff too. BULLET POINT LIST TIME

WHY THE LITIGATION TEAM IS SUPER COOL AND AWESOME AND STUFF

ok so in the lore of the funny toontown game the Litigation team is a group of specialized cogs (thats what robots are called in this universe. the capitalist ones anyhoo) that were hired to help the CLO (that women with the glasses in the above picture) not get her ass kicked by funny cartoon animals. yes its as weird as it sounds yes it goes hard as fuck

so as such their entire thing is that they can beat up toons by using these sick ass strats of theirs. but uhhh thats not the main focus its about found family stuff

FOUND FAMILY STUFF well ok we dont know a lot about the team but there are a buncha implied/i guess just obvious but not directly spelled out dynamics within the team

there's mundie, he's the teams leader and he thinks hes hot shit, i'd argue in the found family sense hes probs the dad/weird uncle/whatever that kind of category is given that he.... has old fuck vibes to me, at least. also hes the leader and there are fanworks out there that have it correlate to the found family. look here he is he is so proud of his team

he does often hype them up in the in-game dialogue that happens before the battles. ofc its all formal like "we can do our job well we're the litigation team" but hes got the spirit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

tbh i will state the team are at each other's throats a lot. kilo and mundie fight over shit in the in-game dialogue, and in general there is A Lot Of Them Being At Each Other's Throats, but at the same time its not like super super hatred if you ask me its like found family who like to play fight if you ask me. im not brushing off how mean all the team members can be to kilo btw- for any corpclash fans reading this- but tbh the team has been kinda stagnant character-wise/we dont know a LOT about them outside of the given cutscenes so theres like development potential and a lotta ppl enjoy writing it!!!!! and i totally see it too

tbh if you want my opinion in this propaganda i say that they're the type of found family thats like comically fighting each other for fun. fistfighting behind the arbys and thats family bonding. a "im going to throw you into the sun but if anyone else lays a hand on you they are no more" kinda deal if that makes sense.

THOUGH I would like to highlight this. COURTNEY CASE AND BARRY BRIEF

according to the lore they used to run an insurance company together called A Brief Case Of Insurance (gettit) that collapsed after a cog died (long story)

and now they work under the litigation team

and like THEY. THEY CARE FOR EACH OTHER DUDE. GIVING MYSELF THE PASS TO GO BONKERS THEY CARE FOR EACH OTHER

should note that barry cannonically like. barely speaks/its like scary as shit or something when he does???? its not really told why its such a tense/worrying thing (like at some point in the comic barry opens his mouth to speak after being asked by his boss if. well. he can speak. and the entire team is tensing up like "HOLY SHIT DUDE" and then he just. says normal ass words and theyre like "PHEW") but its implied its because he. yells all the time. so like. yeah that probs means something

BUT LIKE DUDE THEY RAN AN INSURANCE COMPANY TOGETHER................................... THEY GIRLBOSS TOGETHER......

its unknown what exactly they have but whatever it is real caring about each other moments

wrapping up this longass list with a few things

i'd like to highlight some epic fanworks with the litigation team that i really enjoy

the snobbism animatic by maxiemcsoda that they made!! its based off of the events of their introduction comic and their in-game battle

the limits of litigation by king pants. its basically just him adding lore to a challenge he made for himself and his club to make the oclo even MORE hard, if i recall correctly. but theres really good art AND voice acted "cutscenes" that tell the lore. i really like the cutscenes honestly, you can tell the team really cares for each other in them

this art of them robbing a grocery store (if op wants me to remove this point i will as soon as i get back on /srs)

and if you've made it this far have some images too

Found Family Tournament Round 1 Part 26 Group 126

Propaganda and further pictures under the cut

Litigation Team: Mundie Mudsnapper, Courtney Case, Barry Brief, Kilo Kidd

Monkie Kids: MK, Mei, Tang, Pigsy, Sandy, Mo

Submissions are still open!

Litigation Team:

Typical work acquaintances that ended up caring about each other a little more than they originally anticipated. Still kind of rude to each other, but what family doesn't argue?

Monkie Kids:

Listen, listen,,, sometimes a family can be a boy, his bestie, his adoptive pig father, said pig father's bestie with a violent history, that guy's therapy cat, and a freeloading scholar who definitely totally isn't married to the pig father mhm mhm

ahem. screams so, the mk found fam are just all around wonderful and just are a family. the show itself makes it obvious that Mk and Mei are not romantic interests and in fact are just platonic best friends, and dare I say, siblings. Tang and Pigsy are just married, its not canon but, c'mon, its obvious if you look at them. They're also just the dads of the group, Pigsy outright raising Mk and Tang calling himself "kinda like a father figure" to Mei. Sandy is Pigsy's old friend and now he's the uncle of the group and the crazy cat lady at the same time, Mo is his therapy cat and is always with Sandy, do not separate them. Not much of a rant but tbf all that's in my head when i think about themis just "EUEUEUEU".

[sailorhyunjinz]

Pls ur reactions r so good ??? I’m in love :(

Skz reaction to you having an oral fixation / always wanting to have a mouth full of cock ?

AH thank u!! its really gratifying to hear <33

also when i write these i get like a ~ feeling ~ for each member IDK i feel like a psychic AND I WRITE DOWN EVERY THOUGH HAHSAHAS so if it seems kinda... unorganized thats why lmao

OH BRAH QUICK REACTION LEGO

Warnings; skz x gn!reader; SMUT!! oral fixation, male genitailia, blowjobs, explicit sexual content, strong language, cum, orgasm (m),,, uhm.. yeah? about that

Bangchan

now look,,, its not that he doesnt like blowjobs

its just that he doesnt see the point of you sucking him off all the time when he could be hitting it yk?

SURE foreplay go ahead suck his dick 

but like... always?? hmm... dont think so

he never says no to it if you offer to do it lmao

because WHY WOULD HE

BUT and now this is a big but(t)

i’ve had this thought for forever but hear me out...

he loves to 69

HASHAHS I DONT KNOW WHY I CAN IMAGINE THIS SO WELL LIKE...

because he both gives and recieves and that makes his heart go BOOMBOOM

more for your pleasure and doesnt mind going without it for a while, more enjoying to give you pleasure

ah pretty boy channie :((

Minho

YALL ALREADY KNOW WHATS GOING DOWN 

it gets violent 

no joke

hearing and feeling you choke on his dick is the ego boost of his life

“hmm? having a hard time baby? how about i help you?”

and then he shoves it further down, making you tear up

drool all over your chin and chest

his hand tightly gripping your hair

almost facefucking you

violent 

degradation x1000

every degrading word you could ever imagine comes out between his pretty lips 

“slut, whore, cumslave” 

YOU NAME IT

but always mixes it with praise to let you know that you’re doing great and that he’s enjoying it (a lot) :(((

Changbin

he’s definitely a blowjob type of guy

just taps the head of his dick against your flat wet tongue LORD SAVE ME

eye contact or no dick

in his opinion you’re the prettiest when you look up at him with sparkly doe eyes, your mouth stuffed with his girthy dick

he likes being teased?!?!?

kitten lick his tip and bruh he gone in a matter of minutes 

probably a bit embarrassed but DEEP DOWN he enjoys it 

even though you like sucking his dick A LOT

he is usually the one that suggests it just because he knows that you’re gonna say yes no matter what

BRUH PRAISE???

praise him, he needs it

“you’re so big binnie, f-fuck...” 

size kink hello? how small your mouth his in comparison to his dick 

nah he gets off by just that lmao

Hyunjin

i strongly believe in that the fastest way to get him off is oral

NO JOKE

he’s not too sensitive most of the time

but oral 

PHEW boy be cumming faster than changbin grew (ITS A JOKE DONT ATTACk ME)

he cums a lot 

white ribbons just ooze out from the tip

the moans THE MOOOOANS

tiny sweat drops bead on his forehead as his long hair falls in his face, the rest being tied up in a haphazardly ponytail

he slowly guides your head down his length

gently grabbing the back of your neck

flattening your tongue and licking fat stripes up against his painful erection (im going feral)

loves cumming in your mouth 

“open up sweetheart” he’d squeeze your cheeks, forcing you to open your mouth and groaning at the sight of your wet tongue covered in his release 

my god

Jisung

loves it

why? 

because it’s convenient

if he feels horny its easy for him to just nudge you and say

“c-could you,, uhm,, suck me off?”

and if you enjoy it just makes it better??!?

jisungs dream; a s/o that actually enjoys sucking him off rather than just doing it bc of foreplay 

loverboy probably whips his dick out whenever he can 

in hopes that you notice and suck him off (which,,, works)

EVEN IN THE MOST UNFITTING SITUATIONS THIS BOY WOULDNT GIVE TWO FUCKS

yall had just had an argument and his way of making it up to you was to let you suck his dick ASHAHSHAS

did you take it? 110% yes

Felix

tell me why i thought of felix’s australian accent getting more apparent as you suck him off??!?” ASHSH DONT ASK

overstimulation

suck until your jaw hurts

cause its fun to see lixie all squirmy with small whimpers and breathy shaky moans just pouring out like water. 

im gonna say this in every damn reaction but baby is sensitive

S E N S I T I V E

your mouth wrapped around his dick is heaveeeeeen

it’s just perfect?? it’s warm and wet and soft :((

not too rough with it either

would never ask for it explicitly 

and so you just,,, wanting to do it is ~ lovely ~

would probably get annoyed if you did it too often

reason being that he’d get overwhelmed lol

you just wanting to continue and him trying to yell at you but being to weak from the pleasure that washes over him

Seungmin

a lil bit like chan 

SO HE LIKES IT BUT WOULD RATHER POUND YOU IS WHAT IM TRYING TO SAY

now... believe it or not,,, he’s more gentle with you when you’re sucking him off than he is when he’s actually inside of you?

it’s like... all cute, he’s stroking your cheek, running his hands through your hair and smiling down at you

YALL WERENT EXPECTING THAT (or maybe you were idk)

when you pull off his dick with a loud pop

weak i tell you, absolutely weak because of your beauty

spitters are quitters (ASHSAHHS I CANT)

he grabs your throath gently, watching how your adams apple bobs down as you swallow his sweet cum

then he smiles, his eyes all halfmoon shaped as if he didnt just bust his load in your throat

this duality is killing me ffs

Jeongin

“r-really? you’d do that for me?” 

is what he would say when you suggest sucking him off randomly, seeing him getting hard for no apparent reason

nah bro he’s in love when you randomly suggest it

one thing i really want to emphazise is the hidden duality of babybread

i know everyone is going to think; CHERRY HE’S A BABY HE COULD NEVER BE ROUGH

and thats where you’re wrong

have you seen him on stage??? 

not so bready anymore ohohooho noo...

when shit gets hot and heavy so does he SO THERE IS NO HESITATION IN SHOVING YOUR HEAD DOWN HIS DICK

none

you just have to get to that point where they horniness is too much to bear yk??

imagine you two cuddling and you start tugging on his pants 

he already knows, no words needed 

baby bread senses lmao

[timidloner]

rambling anon for more shenanigans due to what you said aka "maybe MC is the one hearing the confession of the villagers while cockwarming the LI" THATS SO GOOD??? OMG i love your mind woah thats a genius contrast between the facade of faith while in reality sinking in the pleasure of getting corrupted but also THE LI HAS A MONSTER FORM???? i have to ask... how big are we speaking in term of size difference with our MC can it get because hear me out, the LI being able to wrap and crush entirely the MC in his arms if he wants to phew

Hi again! One more ask and you'll get your own tag <3

And thank you, it's always great to daydream about smut!

About the monster form... Of course, I had to make our stranger a monster if we are going for full corruption. This fantasy world belongs to beasts, and I want the MC to literally reject their own humanity in some endings.

I'm also very bad at choosing heights, sizes, and all that, for my characters, so I don't want to give actual measurements. But I have a size kink, and I want his real form to engulf completely even the buff, very tall MC.

Everyone will get manhandled, true equality!

[kvj-novels]

Senku x fem named!reader

Rating: this chapter is A for Adults (minors be warned)

Warnings: this fic has elements of smut and a mention of eating disorders THIS CHAPTER DOES CONTAIN SOME CONTENT WITH THESE WARNINGS - check tags. 

Summary: Imogen has been awakened from petrification but she suffers from amnesia upon waking up. Senku and Taiju - her lover and childhood friend (respectively) before the petrification - must do their best to help her recall her past life.

Smut summary: soft sex, first time, no warnings but very NSFW.

Authors Note: I wanna start this off by saying I’m very proud of this piece. But I also want to say I’m sorry if some of the descriptions aren’t top tier as this is my first time writing smut. But I really hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did while writing it! ;) 

Chapter Seven - final chapter

“What are you two up to?” Senku’s voice echoed off the rock as he approached Taiju and I.  I sat up and smiled. “He’s telling me about awkward little me and the things I did.” “Oof, hopefully he’s not telling about awkward little me too.” “Only a little bit.” I winked.  He chuckled. “Hey, we should change those bandages back at the lookout. Can I steal her away, Taiju?” “Go a head. Do you need help walking down, Imogen?” “I can carry her if she does.” Senku said, taking my hand. “Thank you, Taiju. Let’s do this again tomorrow?” “I’ll come get after breakfast.” He said as we walked off.  “Phew, finally sneaking away.” Senku said.  “Did you get all your work done?” “Most of it. Right now we’re in the waiting process for it.” He said. “Hey, do you need help? I don’t want your feet to get more cut up with all these rocks.” “Well, I don’t need help, but wouldn’t mind not getting more cuts.” “Perfect. On my back it is then.” He said, squatting down. I hopped up onto his back and he carried me to the small hospital again.  “So, how did it go with Taiju?” “He told me a lot. Apparently his family adopted me because my parents went to jail. Taiju is technically my brother and not just a friend.” Senku went to work on my bandages as I told him some of the stories of my past. He intently listened while I spoke, rambling the stories out.  I noticed he was smirking at me and I stopped for second. “W-what?” “Nothing. I just...I mean you’re very...” he laughed at himself “you’re really cute when you go off about something interesting to you.” “Oh fuck off.” I laughed as I blushed.  He winked. “Don’t tempt me.” He said, finishing off the bandages. He crawled onto the bed top of me, planting a kiss to my neck.  I let out a soft moan, biting my lip.  He chuckled and got off the bed, sitting at my side to take off the small bandage on my head.  “Oh this one healed up nicely. I shouldn’t have to cover it again. Just a bit of tape to keep it together.” He cleaned it and put some tape over it.  I sat up when he was finished, sliding hand to the back his head and kissing him.  I felt his hand on my hip move up to my waist.  “Mm you’re gonna get me in trouble.” He whispered between kisses.  “Good.” I said with a smirk.  He winked and looked back towards the entrance. “Let’s take this to the bed shall we?” He got up, holding my hand to take me with him. I followed him to the room inside the tower. He shut the door to the hole and locked it.  “I’m definitely not getting interrupted this time.” He said with a smirk.  I licked my lips, and tugged the hem of my dress up, teasing him by dancing and swinging my hips to an unheard song. He took in the sight, smirk plastered to his lips and hunger in his eyes.  I winked and beaconed him closer with my finger. He took the floor in two strides and grabbed my ass as he stepped into my space.  I trailed a finger down his chest and grabbed the hem of his shirt when I reached the bottom. Pulling it up, he took the shirt by the collar and ripped it off over his head. I placed a kiss to his collar bone, and he let out a gentle gasp. I smiled and went up on my toes, my lips brushing his ear.  “Tell me, have we had sex in the past?” “No.” He whispered.  “Have you had sex at all?” I gently bit his ear lobe. “N-no.” He stuttered. “Have you?” “I can’t remember. First for both of us, what do you say?”  He shook his, turning to look at me. Placing an arm around my waist he kissed me deeply. Then without warning he pulled the rope belt off my waist and tugged the shirt down off my shoulders.  It feel to my feet. He took in the sight of my body, completely naked in front of him.  “Damn...”  “Your turn.” I winked. He kicked off his shoes and quickly tossed his pants aside. I came up behind him and kissed his shoulder blade, wrapping my arms around his waist and snaking a hand a little further down until I reached his erection.  He shuddered a bit when I took it in my hand.  “I don’t suppose you’ve made condoms yet?” I asked.  “Oof. Not yet.” He turned to face me. “Should we wait until I can?” I put a finger over his lips. “No.” I whispered. “Just pull out, okay?” He shook his head and I kissed him, reaching down for his dick again. He let out a moan and threw his head back a bit when I stroked the shaft. His dick was throbbing, I could feel it twitch in my hand. I went down to my knees and kissed the tip before taking it in my mouth.  He tangled a hand into my hair and I looked up to check if he was still okay.  He was watching with eager eyes so I took him further into my mouth before pulling it out to the tip and releasing it with a pop.  I winked before turning my full attention to eager cock in front of me. Taking it in my mouth again, I went as deep as I could, spurred on by Senku’s groan.  I held the base of his shaft with my hand and pleasured his cock, pushing it into my cheek, going all the way down, teasing the tip.  All the while he held my hair, tugging when he reached a high or coaxing me to go deeper.  When I focused on the tip he shuddered.  “W-wait, wait I’m gonna come.” He said. I took him out of mouth and smirked.  “Not yet.” I said. I hopped onto the bed and he followed me over.  “My turn,” he said, taking my knees and spreading them wide. He got to his knees on the floor and flicked his tongue at my clitoris, keeping his eyes on me. “Go for it.” I smirked. He pushed into my dripping lips. I threw my head back as he lapped at the warmth.  A moan escaped my lips and he got a little more comfortable, gripping my hips with one hand and slipping a finger into my pussy with the other. I rocked my hips up as he fingered my pussy and sucked at my cum. My clit found it’s way into his mouth and I bucked up. He chuckled, holding onto my ass and stimulating my clit with his tongue.  I groaned, “P-please,” a whimper fell out of lips and I moaned. He released my pussy and crawled onto the bed between my legs.  He lined up his dick and slammed it in as far as he could.  “Oh, fuck!” I cried out with a moan, gripping at his back and leaving scratches.  “S-sorry.” He whispered. “I got a bit excited.” I chuckled, “don’t be.” He started to thrust, slow and long at first, taking in every inch of my body with gentle kisses. I closed my eyes, rocking my hips to his thrusts and reaching up to grab his hair which had fallen down and was half covering his face.  “Faster.” I whispered. He obeyed and picked up his speed, the floor creaked with each rock of the bed. I moaned feeling my walls tighten. He let out a groan followed by a swear.  “Oh, fuck, Imogen.” His balls smacked into my ass as he continued, going harder with the rise of the climax.  “I-I’m close.” I whispered.  “Ffuck me too.”  “Pull out when you need to.”  He managed a little longer, enjoying the pace we maxed out at. I threw my head back into the blanket on the bed, my release came a moment later and Senku pulled out. He pushed my legs shut and slammed his cock between them, riding out his climax between my thighs.  His cum landed on my stomach and tits. He flopped onto the bed beside me and let out a content sigh.  “Holy fuck.” He breathed.  “That was fun,” I leaned over and kissed his cheek.  He smirked. “I agree.” “Where’s your shower? I’m gonna need to wash this off.” I laughed.  “Oops.” He said with a wink. “Fraid o don’t have any showers in here. We’ll have to run to the river quick. The only showers are in the village.” “You down for some skinny dipping then?” I sat up and grabbed his shirt that I was wearing.  He chuckled. “You bet.” He said, grabbing his pants and two towels. We carefully made our way through the forest to the river, it was much easier this time now that I had shoes too. We broke through the trees and I tossed my dress off.  “Catch me if you can!” I stuck my tongue out and ran towards the water.  “Hey-wha-thats not fair!” He said, hurrying to strip off his pants and run after me.  I kicked my shoes off by the water and ran into the river up to my hips. Senku caught up to me, grabbed me by the waist and spun me around.  We both fell into the water when he misstepped. I came up laughing and splashed him. he splashed back even harder. We both settled down after a fit of laughter. The water felt amazing during the mid day heat and I sunk into it up to my shoulders. Senku was smiling while he watched me.  “Hm?” 

He tossed his head to the right to sweep some hair out of his face. “I forgot that life with you is absolutely exhilarating.” He said with a grin.

********

Tag list: @viskafrer @bee-cakes @potatochic2003 @gxldenhunny @cheesey-fox @guijh103 Please DM me if you would like to be added to the tag list!

[trackpup]

Thinking about... Martian... the size difference... the sexual tension... the homoeroticism...

Like imagine after a race when they’re all sweaty and frustrated with each other and Mark just pins Seb against the wall and starts aggressively kissing him. It’s rough, unorganized, and sloppy but they just can’t kept their hands off of each other. It eventually turns into grinding and Mark has Seb cumming in his pants in a matter of moments because he’s so young and eager...

Mark has also definitely bent Seb over one of the cars and fucked into him hard until he was a crying whimpering mess. He loves seeing Red Bull’s number one degraded to a begging slut.

But he also loves alternating between aggressive and gentle.

He’ll have Seb laid out on the bed and fuck into him with careful yet deep thrusts. The younger is clutching at Mark’s shoulders, overwhelmed tears rolling down his cheeks as Mark mumbles praise in his ear thats filled with so much love it has him cummimg.

In either case the aftercare is amazing. Mark lifting the small boy and making sure he is okay. Seb would cling to him no matter what, desperate for any sort of contact.

I just.. love them so much and I love them being soft but also dickheads towards each other. Get you men who can do both -💫

the idea of mark finally just. snapping and manhandling seb is just so. grrr...because...the tension in their relationship was at boiling point constantly and it was only a matter of time before someone snapped

mark is just so much bigger and stronger than seb. and seb knows this, but still wound him up constantly. almost as if he was begging to be bent over and snapped in two

seb being delirious with pleasure, his legs spread as wide as they'll go as mark has him propped up against the car. seb would be so loud, moaning like a bitch in heat, whining and whimpering. a little bit of drool coming out of his mouth as he's well and truly fucked nice and deep

mark would let out all of his frustrations on that little twink. maybe putting his fingers deep in seb's mouth as he fucks him, and choking him too? phew

and seb would just need to flutter his lashes and nuzzle into mark for him to go all soft and spoon him and seb falls asleep knowing he has mark wrapped around his little finger

[ff-imagines]

Can i request some nsfw headcanons for mantis shrimp? I read through your blog and let me just say: I'm a big fan. Btw if you dont wanna do them thats fine as well

Salt and pepper shrimp: nsfw alphabet

I did the whole alphabet bc? Why not! Side note I rly wanna write a fic going off my thoughts ab his experience level >:)

A - aftercare

Look, getting him to release you from his hold to go to the bathroom on a regular night is a battle enough. After sex? Phew I wish you luck. Might wanna just put some water on your night stand beforehand. You would be able to convince him to take a bath with you pretty easily though, he likes how the warm water feels very much. Make sure to cuddle him in the bath still, he's in a very vulnerable state right now and he really needs some good old tlc.

B- body parts

he’s got a weird fixation with your hands. He likes to compare hand sizes, whether your hands are bigger or smaller isn’t what he likes, he just likes to admire them. He loves sucking/biting your fingers while he’s got you in his lap. Lacing your fingers with his with one hand while bringing the other to his cheek, nuzzling into your hand while he bounces you on his cock.

On himself, there is tragically little that he genuinely likes. He views himself as a weapon, getting him to unlearn that will not be an easy process, trust me, Boston has tried. Complimenting his eyes does seem to make him a little more flustered than other praises, and he has a hard time staring you in the eye during sex…. maybe we can start there.

C - cum

His cum is pretty thin but there’s a shit ton of it. Enough that if he cums inside you swear you can feel the warmth as his cock pours rope and rope of his seed into you.

He doesn’t actually care where he cums, just ask him and he’ll comply.

inside you? sounds good.

On your back? Say less.

On the floor? You’re cleaning it, but sure.

He did discover he’s got an affinity for watching his cum on your tongue. I don’t know how you’d be able to swallow it all, but any attempt you make will be met with shrimp getting hard all over again.

D - dirty secret

He secretly thinks it’d be really hot for you to dom him. It’s gonna take a very long time before he’s comfortable letting you have that Linda control over him, just the thought of being tied up, hands behind his back while you praise him for being such a good boy, its a fantasy he’s visited on many sleepless nights.

E - experience

Nope. Nada. To be frank, I think he’s the definition of Demisexual, and he has yet to meet anyone besides Boston and the anti-human gang who he genuinely wants to get to know better. He definitely hasn’t met anyone who wants to get to know better for romantic reasons.

He doesn’t know enough about human customs to know that it can be embarrassing for someone to be inexperienced, but he does feel very very nervous the first few times. He’ll need a lot of reassurance, give him praise and he’s putty in your hands.

F - favorite position

I'm gonna be boring and say missionary. It’s simple, easy, and since he’s brand new to all of this it’s the least mentally overstimulating. He very much likes that he can see your face.

If he’s feeling extra spicy he might grab onto the inside of your knees and push you into the mating press, though he really only does this if he’s upset or jealous.

If you ask nicely he might let you sit in his lap, as a treat. Bouncing on his cock as he litters your chest with bite marks, what a treat it is <3

G - goofy

…. yea for sure definitely. He’s a real jokester.

On a serious note, he himself is not a goofy person whatsoever, but he would actually like it if you were. Outright making fun of him or harsh teasing is an immediate turn off, but light jokes to ease his nerves is for sure welcomed since he’s very tense the first few times.

Give him time and you might even catch him cracking a small joke himself, all the while giving you a weak, nervous smile.

H- hair

He doesn’t trim or shave anything lmao. He’s busy, and also doesn’t care literally at all. He’s got a thin happy trail that can be easy to miss since he's blonde.

He’s got the same energy with your body hair, he doesn’t care. If you do shave he might ask why, just out of curiosity. If your reason is insecurity, he’ll probably suggest you let it grow, he doesn’t care and he’s the only one who’ll ever see it lmao

I- intimacy

It’s an awkward “i hope to fuck I’m doing this right” kind of intimacy. He fumbles and messes up a lot, he might even accidentally miss when thrusting and end up just kinda rubbing himself on you but he’s really trying. Just from the fact he’s willing to try this at all with you is a big sign that he’s really trying his best to be as intimate as he can with you.

J- jerk off

Before meeting you, not a lot actually. He mostly just did it if he ever woke up from a wet dream and knew that if he didn’t take care of it now he’d never be able to get back to sleep.

After your first time together, his first time, he thinks back the immeasurable pleasure a lot, finding himself in need of relief a lot more than he ever did before. You are the catalyst to his drive, and you are also the only thing he can think about that can help him cum. It’s kinda sweet in a perverted way.

K- Kinks

He will bite you. It’s just so easy to bruise you and it makes your relationship status to others so obvious, he can’t just… not bite you.

Marking, going along with the biting kink. This goes both ways, he’d love for you to scratch at his back enough to leave red marks, to bite as his collarbone, grip his hips tight enough to bruise. He likes looking at the marks later, they remind him that he did good, he made you feel good, that’s all he really wants.

He doesn’t exactly have a breeding kink as much as this goes along with the marking aspect. Suggest to him that he cum deep inside you to mark your insides… he might give you 2-3 loads just to make sure you're nice and full, completely claimed.

He also kinda likes to make you cry. Overstimulating you to the point of tears gives him a sense of pride he hasn’t really felt before.

He really likes temperature play as well, dragging ice cubes and hot wax across your skin and watching you flinch and squirm just does something to him.

And of course, light bondage. He probably found out it was a thing after reading some kinda erotic fiction and immediately went to you like “why did you not tell me about this?????” He adores how to look all tied up and stuck, right in the palm of his hands. It makes him feel emotional as well, that you’re willing to give him such a powerful amount of control over you.

Last but not least, please praise him. During sex as well as day to day. Let him know he’s so pretty, he’s doing so good, he’s cock feels so so good, he might cum on the spot.

L- location

The first time he’d really need it to be in a secluded, safe area. He’s gotta feel comfy if he’s gonna get into the mood.

Every other time? Babes you’ve awakened a beast, he’ll get random spikes of “if I don’t at least try to fuck them I will scream”. You could be in the middle of a forest running from an axe wielding murderer and this horny bastard would still find a way to pull you aside and rail you against a tree.

There most likely isn’t a spot in your home that he hasn’t fucked you against.

Peaceful moment of washing dishes? Think again, he’s plopping you on the kitchen counter and diving to mouth at your neck.

Writing some papers? Just sit on his lap, you’ll feel much less stressed with his cock buried to the hilt, won’t you?

Doing laundry? Might have to rewash them cause now he’s using the clothes as a bed to fuck you on. He’ll apologize and help you fold them after they’re rewashed bc he feels bad lmao

M- motivation

Like I said, he’s set off by the smallest things. A little stretch, wiping some water off on your pants, humming a song, all of it can randomly make him feel the need to fuck you.

The most intense and quickest way to rile him up is either playing with his hair, or massaging his back. It starts out innocent but he just can’t take the thought of your pretty hands working so lovingly and not at least trying to reciprocate and make you feel good too.

N- no

No sharing. He doesn’t want someone else to see you, and he doesn’t want someone else to see him. It’s just not something he likes.

He also hates humiliation. He… would tolerate it if you asked for it, even if he doesn’t get why you’d want him to outright insult you. But for himself? Fuck no, he hates it so fuckin much. He’s a sensitive insecure puppy that wants your attention very badly, pls don’t hurt him like that :(

O- oral

Oh please give him oral. He’s begging. Well, he’d never outright beg but the way his eyes fixate on your mouth a lot is his way of silently pleading for you to wrap your lips around his cock. His soul ascends a little every time he sees his cum dribbling down your face, he might be even willing to make out with his cum still on your tongue.

As for giving, he’s got no clue what the hell he’s doing but he’s nervously eager to try. Guide him as best you can, he’s good at measuring your reactions so he can handle the rest. Tug on his hair a little bit if you wanna drive him crazy.

He’ll get a lot better with time, his eagerness to please however, does not leave him in the slightest.

P- pace

The first time? Slow and unsure, then he realizes “oh fuck this feels stupid good” and his pace becomes almost punishing. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, he’s unknowingly going deeper and harder than you've ever been dicked down in your life. If you want him to, somehow, go harder? Grab his hand and place it over your stomach to make him feel his cock enter you through your skin, his hand slides down to grip your hips and slams into you, wiggling his hips without withdrawing to gain some of his sanity back before he’s back to a punishing pace.

Q- quickies

Oh hell yea. He lives for them. Sudden moments of horniness come to him all the time and since this spike in desire is brand new, he hasn’t really… learned to live with it yet. He pulls you aside into closets and alleyways all the time, he can’t help that you feel so warm and snug :(

R- risk

He doesn’t exactly enjoy the thought of a voyeur, he really doesn’t want to share you with anyone. But… there is a deeper part of him that finds a sense of pride if someone were to hear you getting absolutely pounded by him, desperately crying out and whining for him to go deeper, even better if they were someone who pined for you….

S- stamina

Well, to be frank he cums pretty quickly. It’s all so brand new to him, he really can’t help it. Lucky for you, his refractory time is crazy low. He can cum once, watch you do some mindless motion you always do and he’s right back to being hard again in minutes.

T- toys

Not against it, but is again, brand new to all this shit. He’s very interested in using your own toys against you though. Would definetly use a vibrater to edge and overstim you. He’d be interested in a cock ring, only if you were willing to endure a vibrator while he fucks you, he doesn’t wanna be the only one struggling lmao

U- unfair

He can be, yea. He kinda likes edging you, but not as much as he likes overstimulating you.

He loves to hear how you beg under him when he’s pulling you so close to the edge, keeping you just far enough to drive you insane.

Overstimming though? The way you twitch and beg, how your chest heaves and your mouth hangs open into a silent scream, eyes shut tight and watering, now that’s the good shit.

V- volume

Doesn’t talk much, but for sure gives out a lot of groans. This is something he’s never felt before in his life, the first few times you're going to get a lot of whines and surprised yelps, check up on him and make sure he’s still doing alright, he’s just very nervous.

As he gets more comfortable, he gives you quiet praises and promises to make you feel good. He also groans quite a lot, but since his voice is deeper it can be hard to catch.

W- wild card

He really wants to try using his prosthetic arm for temperature play, he’s just not at all confident in himself enough to bring it up. He likes the thought of you jumping and squirming under his touch, for now he can just stick to wax play.

X- X Ray

Mans is actually pretty fuckin big. He’s got no idea how big he is though. If you were surprised and a little nervous about his size he’d be pretty confused, is there something wrong? Did you change your mind? The concept of him being well above average is something you’ll have to explain later. It boosts his ego quite bit, even if he’d never admit it.

Whine about him being too big and you can just see the pride swelling in his chest, giving you no mercy with his thrusts.

Y- yearning

Often. Very very often. He’d fuck you multiple times every day if he had the time. However, you’re both busy, and you’d probably get a UTI with how many times this man wants to dick you down lmao. He’s got his cock buried in you at least 4-5 times a week.

Z- zzz

Actually pretty quickly. Even if he prefers being in control during sex, he kinda likes being the little spoon as he drifts to sleep. Give him some soft praises about how well he did and he’s turning into jello in your hold.