#i use my notes app a lot yes
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smartsxylacyy · 11 months ago
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i wanted to confess my screentime from yesterday..
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estinyans · 10 months ago
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jjk oc yayyy yippeeeee :3
his name is asahi and his innate technique is Soul Beast, in depth under readmore
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ehlnofay · 5 months ago
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wip wtuesday
tagged by @wispstalk :) tagging back @everybodyknows-everybodydies @jiubilant and @ervona
my current works in progress are all brainstorming and writing for summerfest, which will all be posted soonish anyway so I shan't post excerpts of any of that ahead of time. HOWEVER part of that is a slightly longer piece that I am making copious notes for whenever whim strikes. so this wip wtuesday is an insight into whatever the fuck my process is. very curious as to whether any of it makes any kind of external sense
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inkats · 1 year ago
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here’s a thing from yesterday also. Giving procreate another chance
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tragedykery · 2 years ago
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I want to make a post analysing mai & ty lee’s appearances in return to omashu but idk how to word things. hatred and rage
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welpnotagain · 2 years ago
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I wrote out like two quite long posts. Anyway it boils down to:
If you post something online, especially a subjective opinion, you are opening yourself up to be disagreed with. This is to be expected. You are not alone on the internet and it is not reasonable to act like you are receiving hate and/or are "being cancelled" simply because people are disagreeing with you. If you think your opinion is entitled to stay entirely unopposed you probably shouldn't post it.
#this is about something that happened to me like 3 years ago on tumblr and i just randomly thought about it and was annoyed#it was about some like mid twenties woman that was arguing about how great tiktok is and how most of the people that disliked it only did#so bc it was popular to do so. kinda like what happened with justin Bieber when he was a kid.#and my response was something along the lines of 'that might be true but there are a lot of things to dislike about tiktok as a company and#how the app is being used as a radicalisation tool and how it's algorithm promotes that bc that is what keeps people on the app etcetc'#and she went Off on me how i was clearly misinterpreting her points and how i talked down to her and how entitled i was#bc i wanted to farm notes by stating popular opinions and how tt haters were so annoying bc so many other people had also disagreed#and i should have just gone through the notes and reblogged one of those argumentstions instead of writing my own#and like??? girly why can you say what you think but i can't even agree with you to some extent but then point out flaws of an app not even#your opinion! anyway. i saw her response in my activity tab and apparently she blocked me but the @ still showed up for me so I actually#had to open her rant in an incognito tab so I could really get the whole 'yeah that IS the worst faith interpretation of anything i have#ever said'#well whatever. it just randomly popped baxk into my head and i was annoyed about the me yes but You?! no attitude
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feyburner · 3 months ago
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I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app
*
Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.
“No?” he says.
“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”
“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”
He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.
And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.
“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”
“Lightyears beyond, actually.”
“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”
He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.
“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”
“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.
“Exactly.”
“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”
Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”
Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”
“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”
“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”
There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.
“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”
“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”
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highvern · 6 months ago
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Drive Me Crazy
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x f!reader
Genre: smut
warnings: strangers to lovers, virgin!JK, dry humping, oral sex, cum eating
Length: ~3.7k
Note: yes i'm insane. no i won't be taking further questions. thank u @gyuswhore for chaperoning my descent into JK madness
summary: You're not the only one with a shitty dating life. Your driver seems to be having a worse night than you can imagine. But things take a turn for the better in the backseat of his car.
m.list
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
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“Uber for Y/N?” you ask, stumbling into the backseat. “Thanks. God, you wouldn’t believe the night I’ve had.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” the man, Ian according to the information on the app, gasps. 
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” You’re a wreck; makeup running, clothes damp from the rain peppering on the window. The last thing you want is some hot guy as your driver for the short journey back to your apartment but at this point you can’t muster the energy to care. 
“Uhhh—”
“You probably don’t want to hear about my shitty night.”
“Well that and—” he starts, cut off before he can say more by your tipsy motormouth. 
“Where does a man get off telling me he isn’t interested in gold diggers when he’s a public school teacher? No offense but what gold?” you ramble. “Not to mention, when I told the waiter to split the bill he asked if I thought he didn’t have any money. Like make up your mind dude.”
“What the fuck?” he asks lowly.
You nod in agreement, hands thrown wide in exasperation. “That’s what I’m saying!”
“That’s fucked up.”
The thickness of his voice doesn’t register in your mind, a broken edgy scratching at the edges of your brain but it doesn’t signal any significant interest “Oh, that's not even the worst part.”
“There’s more?”
“He said ‘I asked too many personal questions.’”
“Like?”
“What he liked to do for fun, if he’s originally from the city, do you like dogs or cats? Literally anything I could think of because apparently he’s allergic to carrying a conversation.” In your hand, your phone rings with an unsaved number. “Hello?”
“Hi, this is your Uber. Did you mean to cancel your ride?”
“What?”
“Ian from Uber? I’ve been circling the block and haven’t found you and you weren’t answering your phone.”
“Oh! I’m sorry I’ll just—cancel. Yep. Bye.” You stare at the equelly unease expression on Not-Uber Driver Ian’s face, muddled brain racing. If he isn’t your driver that means you got into the car with a random man. 
“Who the fuck are you?” you scream. 
“Who the fuck are you?” he yells back.
You fiddle with the door handle, unable to grab a hold with shaky hands. “Oh my god, you’re a kidnapper.”
“I’m not a kidnapper!”
“That’s what a kidnapper would say!” You fumble for the pepper spray in your bag only to find it absent. It’s not your usual bag. It’s the nicer one that barely fits your phone and chapstick. Damn it.
“YOU GOT IN MY CAR,” he argues.
He makes a good point. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I tried but you talk a lot.” 
Another good point.
“Oh my god, what the hell,” you gasp. “Why are you sitting here with the doors unlocked? I could have robbed you.”
“I used my last five bucks to buy this ice cream. Just kill me instead.”
You balk. “That’s so sad.” 
“Yeah, I’m aware.”
“You’re a horrible kidnapper.”
“And you’re a pretty shitty carjacker so I’d say we’re even.”
If he was dangerous he's had plenty of time to prove it. Instead, when he looks back over the center console, all you see is the red rimmed eyes of a kicked puppy with a bird nest for hair. A ridiculous expression for a man of his size but you pity him nonetheless. He’s harmless. Pathetic. But harmless. 
There’s a story about him and you’ve always been curious. “Okay, not-Ian, why are you sitting in a parking lot eating ice cream on a Friday night? Kidnapper thing aside, this is just sad.” 
He’s hot. Even in nothing but sweats and his own misery. The intimidating kind of handsome that people, men and women, pine over. Hand themselves over on a silver platter if he so much as asked.
“Thanks,” he grunts, going for another spoon of ice cream. 
“So why are you upset?” The rain outside intensifies, setting the scene to bare your souls in his cramped Toyota.
“Ugh…” he hesitates. 
“You don’t have to tell me, but I don’t think it can be any more embarrassing than what I just went through.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Why not? If it’s more embarrassing then I won’t steal a bite. Is that chocolate?”
“Cookie dough,” he corrects. “This girl I’ve been talking to ditched me.”
“Because?”
He prepares with a deep breath, steeling himself against whatever motive his fling had. “I’m a virgin.”
“What?” you ask dumbly. Virgin.
Chin tipped back, he swipes at his face in embarrassment. “I told you it's embarrassing.”
“You’re eating your feelings because you’re a virgin?”
“Yes.” He waits for your interjection. When it doesn’t come he hesitantly continues. “And the last person I told laughed in my face and started hooking up with my roommate. So…”
“What a bitch.”
“Yeah. People just assume I’m some kind of man whore.” He explains, head banging against the wheel. “But I’ve never done anything besides… ya know?”
“I have no idea, complete stranger.”
“Like hand stuff.”
“Yeah, you’re definitely a virgin,” you snort. “Move over, I’m coming up.”
Shimmying into the front seat takes more coordination than you’re prepared for. The hem of your dress rises to brazen heights, a draft curling around the edge of your panties. Its a feeling you assumed would be happening with your date and not in the car with a random stranger. But beggars can’t be choosers. At least it’s good ice cream.
He pointedly avoids looking anywhere close to your legs. Polite. Innocent. Virginal. How cute.
“Thank you. That makes me feel so much better.” His eyes roll as you settle into the passenger seat, snatching the container and taking a bite from the same spoon he’d been using. 
“Sorry,” you say after swallowing. “Is it because you don’t want to? Because that girl can go fuck herself then.”
“No, I just, I don’t know. I get nervous? They’re expecting someone who knows what they’re doing and I have no idea. And then all I can think about is what if I’m bad at it which makes me more nervous and then I feel like throwing up.”
“Please tell me you haven’t thrown up on a girl.” 
“Ew, no,” he laughs, taking a bite for himself. “I just make an excuse to slow down and then leave.”
“Okay. Well…” You try to think of something, anything, that could make him feel better. It’s not everyday a stranger spills their guts about lacking sexual experience. “So what if you’re bad? It’s not like you can’t get better.”
“Okay, but what girl wants to sleep with a guy who’s bad in bed?”
“How do you know you’re bad if you’ve never even tried? It’s different if you’re bad and you don’t care. Just tell whoever you're with you’ve never done it before. If they don’t jump at the chance to teach you then they can fuck off.”
“Well, Mina rubbed my face in it—”
“Oh fuck her. She seems like a bitch.”
“You’re not wrong,” he says. 
Rain drizzles on the windshield, obscuring the lights into messy streaks. A flood of memories surrounding your own virginity rush to the forefront.
Your college boyfriend, Jimin, wanted to wait. It was cute. High school sweethearts going to the same school, taking similar classes, holding hands in the library. You thought he wasn’t ready and you respected it, found it endearing that he wasn’t like most of the guys your friends dated that couldn’t wait to do it.
Or you did until you decided to surprise Jimin for his birthday with breakfast in bed and got your own surprise. A girl, naked in his bed, Jimin’s own clothes scattered around the room.
You broke up with him right there. Two days of crying later, you invited your lab partner, the one Jimin couldn’t stand, over.
It was Yoongi that sent a selfie of you two cuddled up in bed to Jimin. He still likes to cash in on that favor whenever he needs a dog sitter.
Yoongi knew there were no feelings involved. A simple favor in the form of revenge against a shitty ex. Maybe not-Ian is your chance to pay it forward. By the looks of things, you wouldn’t be suffering.
“Ya know, some girls like guys who are inexperienced. It’s hot knowing you can teach someone how to be good in bed. Like an ego boost.” You shrug. If he wasn’t looking at your legs before but he sure is now. Pink ears and round eyes, his fingers twitch in his lap as you suck the spoon clean. At least the hour spent shaving your legs isn’t going to waste. “Besides, you obviously care how the other person feels, which is more than some dudes.”
“Why would someone not care if the other person feels good?” he asks, tone laced with disgust. “That seems like the entire point.”
“The world is full of mysteries.”
“My name is Jungkook by the way.”
Jungkook. Fitting somehow. It tastes good on your tongue. Like the cookie dough ice cream.
“Y/N.”
You end up in his lap in true stereotypical fashion. A too long silence, his eyes on your mouth and yours on his. Someone leans forward and now you know Jungkook is a great kisser with even greater upper body strength.
His inexperience shows in the fine details: shaky hands, hesitant tongue, waiting for you to take the lead as not to offend. It’s endearing. Someone as big as him treating you with such gentleness. But it means he’s thinking about messing this up and that’s the opposite of what you want. 
You kiss him deeper, a grip on the side of his neck that he eagerly surrenders too. Your other hand wedges between your chests. Teeth nipping at his lip, you rock against him, palming against the soft cotton sweats until he’s plump in your hand. 
“God,” he chokes. His own hands busy themself on your body, one at the seat of your ass, teasing the edge of your dress where bare skin peaks out while the offers a tight grip at your chest, pinching your nipple in desperate retaliation.
“Feel good?” You rut again, a tease for your own pleasure in the form of Jungkook’s heavy breath. It’s decent contact on your core, not enough to get you off but plenty for right now.
Kissing is well in his realm of experience. Obvious from how quickly he finds his bearings, licking behind your teeth. It’s good. Better than dry humping his thigh in the front seat should be. Vision dark from his hands frantic at your ass, thighs rising to meet every torturous curl against the heat of his lap.
You fall into his shoulder, drool staining his sweater as you pant. “Ever had your dick sucked?”
“No.” 
A vein raises across his neck and becomes your new guidemap. Your hand at his crotch squeezes, his cock twitching at the action. “Do you want to?”
“You don’t have to,” he hisses. 
You squeeze his cock again, enough for a needy drive of his hips in response. “I want to.” 
“Seriously?” he marvels.
“If it’s cool with you.” You nose along his jaw, teeth scraping red over his skin. His stomach dips under your hand. “Get in the back, I don’t need to get caught with your dick in my mouth.”
“Holy shit, don’t say that.” He kisses you again, firmer this time. 
You crawl back through the narrow opening between the front seats, ass on full display for Jungkook’s eyes. The heat of his palm ghosts over your legs but he doesn’t touch. The deliberate arch in your spine isn’t enough to break his self control just yet.
He comes next. The struggle is endearing, half stuck between the seats and wiggling forward. “I think I’m stuck.”
“Why didn’t you just go around?” You snort, grabbing around his arms and pulling to no avail.
“Too late now.”
You're both laughing. Breathless because Jungkook is lodged between the seats with zero hope. “Why are you so heavy?”
He wiggles through with your help, nearly elbowing you in the head in the process. But he’s in the seat with his lap as prime real estate. You try to commandeer the space once again but Jungkook stops you. Instead, he settles between your legs, weight pinning you into the door. Broad shoulders block out the light but you take it in stride, fisting the back of his sweater as he finds your pulse.
“Can I go down on you?” He nuzzles down your throat, mouthing the spots he’s learning make you putty in his hands.
“Yeah, sure,” you hiccup. “That’s fine.” 
Jungkook crams between your legs, bending in half on the floor like a contortionist. The sparse kisses across your thighs would be a blatant tease if nervousness wasn’t rolling off him in waves. He’s eating pussy for the first time and acting like it’s open heart surgery.
“Calm down.” You brush a hand through his hair, attempting to be comforting. 
“I am calm.” A bold faced lie. Even in the darkness of the backseat the signs of his impending nerves are obvious. 
“You’re shaking,” you say. “I’ll tell you what feels good. You’re not gonna mess it up.”
An open mouth on your core kiss leaves you sweating with a weak hum. At least he knows where the clit is. Or has a vague idea of its presence. Jungkook presses his face further into the cotton, suffocating himself without realizing. 
“O-oh,” you hitch.
Humiliation brews from such a visceral reaction to something as basic as a kiss over your panties. But Jungkook is out of his depth here and any reaction will stroke his confidence. 
He ducks away, watching you with rapt attention. You’re the teacher and he’s a student eager for whatever validation that may fall from your lips. “Good?” 
“Yeah, do it again,” you praise. 
He nods before diving back in, throwing your legs over his shoulders for better reach. Your pulse jumps with juvenile eagerness. Like it’s the first time you’re left with a boy unsupervised and his hand is the first real thing to touch you between the legs. It makes you feel dirty. Has your hairline sweat and tongue go dry. A bold wash of his tongue couples the next kiss, hot and wet as he laps against the fabric until your own arousal mixes with spit. 
"You fucking liar,” you croak. The back of your head knocks against the window, hips rolling into his mouth.
"What?” Jungkook asks, leaning back but just barely. His breath fans over your skin, a shiver crawling up your spine. “Did I do something—" 
“It’s good. So good,” you praise. “Touch me more.”
He jumps at the chance. Your panties tear down your thighs, out of the way with some rough maneuvering. Bare for his eyes, Jungkook takes more than a fill before diving in for another taste. But not until he spits on your clit and rubs in the mess with his thumb. Your thighs spread wider to accommodate a hard pass of his mouth, more wet kisses burning your cheeks.
“Jungkook, fuck,” you sigh. “When you said ‘hand stuff’ what did you mean?”
“I’ve touched a vagina before if that's what you're asking.”
You swat his hand. “Don’t say vagina, it makes me feel like I’m at the gynecologist.”
“Sorry, a pussy.”
“Don’t say it like that either, weirdo. Have you fingered one?”
Pointed silence is answer enough.
“It’s okay. I’m not gonna make fun of you. Just don’t put a finger in my ass and you’ll be fine.”
He doesn't laugh at your poor attempt to cut the tension but he releases a weighted sigh, muscles sagging an inch. Better. Instead, he focuses on stroking you to life between your folds, fingertips nudging your bud teasingly. 
“Use your mouth some more and then finger me too,” you beg. 
“Uh—how many? I don't wanna hurt you." He’s unsure despite the obvious twitch in your thighs. It burns depravity through your veins. His innocence is hot. Jungkook doesn’t even realize how fucked up he has you from some softcore porn level touching.
"All of them. I don't care, I’ll tell you if it’s too much."
One hand firm on your stomach, keeping your dress out of the way as he spreads your insides with two. The first strokes are meek. Nothing to scream over but he’s learning and that’s what's important. Seconds tick by and Jungkook finds a hesitant rhythm. Wet noises echo with each slow sheath, reserved but stretching you all the same. The wet strokes of his tongue are there too, placating just in case. A soft curl of his fingers makes your hips cant into his mouth. 
The fogged windows are a dead give away to what's playing out in the backseat. If anyone stumbles down the sidewalk then you’re both dead but Jungkook’s mouth is distracting in the worst way.
And then he licks between his fingers, tongue slipping past his knuckles for a pure taste of your arousal. You go fuzzy at the edges, thighs squeezing tight until he’s forced to keep them spread or risk having his head crushed.
“Oh–fuck me, god.”
It’s not fair. For him to be good at this so quickly. To delude himself into thinking he could possibly be bad, trying to convince you he’d be bad. Complete unfair how ill prepared you were for Jungkook worshiping your pussy like he’s never tasted anything better.
He really needs to be more confident because, in the cramped back seat of his car, you’re losing your mind and it’s barely been ten minutes.
“Can I—” he asks around your clit.
“Do whatever you want, just don’t stop,” you ramble. “Jungkook, fuck.”
A hand of your own sinks into his hair, angling his chin for better access. Wet echoes fill the car, sharp mewls from your lips adding to the noise. Nerves blazing, your ride his mouth for all its worth. Eager slippery circles of his tongue against your clit intensify, built on praising moans of his name.
“Fuck. Tastes good,” he grunts. A squeeze of your hand, the one not pulling his hair and then he’s finding your chest, blind groping until you guide him to your nipple and curve into the sting of his grip. He twists it. Hard. 
You want to cry. The sweat suck of his mouth, fingers confidently curling it that spot that makes the air thinner in your lungs. Moans die between your teeth. Too quick into the next sensation to revel. There isn’t a thought other than Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook.
“Jungkook!” you cry, grinding into his fingers. Your teeth clench as a third one stretches that extra inch. Stiff in the thighs, you force yourself down into the friction. His tongue hardens, perfect for use as you hump his face weakly.
Your legs kick, scrambling under the sharp pleasure. He’s got you melting into nothing right on his carseat. Jungkook doesn’t lean back to ask for more confirmation; just takes the signs for what they are and keeps going with renewed stamina at the promise of your pleasure. 
“I’m gonna—oh, god. Yessss,” you hiss. Nails sharp against the back of his neck, Jungkook buries his face in your cunt. 
You go rigid, voice breaking into a desperate whimper. Jungkook has the sense to keep going, lashing at your clit over and over with each desperate pulse of pleasure through your veins. Flashes flare behind the darkness of your eyes squeezed tight. You make a few more desperate noises, lurching in his hold before falling lip and worn.
“Fuck, okay. Okay,” you whine, pushing him away from your core before the stimulation becomes too much.
His mouth is drenched, cheeks and chin smeared with your orgasm. A flash of tongue collects some of the mess but you drag him into a kiss before he can go for seconds. First time eating pussy and he’s one for one. If that doesn’t help his confidence then nothing else will. 
“Give me a second and I’ll blow you,” you pant into his lips. 
“I-it’s okay.”
You pout at the brush off, a deep kiss as you invade his space. “I promise I want to.”
Your hand goes for his pants just to be captured with his own. His fingers are still soaked from your insides. “No, I…I came too.”
“Really?” you ask in awe.
Jungkook is embarrassed again. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. That’s hot.” You kiss him again with a gentle suckle along the curve of his lower lip. Jungkook drinks it in, crowding you back into the door again like you aren’t a pile of mush. Your back hurts from hunching over for so long but you let him keep you tangled up for a little while longer just to feel the shuddering exhale from his nose across your cheek. “Can I see?”
He swallows thickly before rolling down his sweats. The thin fabric of his boxers are wet, sticky under your shaky hand. You dip below the waist band, fingers grazing the limp ridge of his cock. He’s stuck in the inbetween of soft and hard but still hot and heavy in your hold. Your core throbs in interest at the feeling. 
Jungkook shivers as you swipe at the slit, collecting a bead of cum. You want to get your mouth on him but he looks like he might cry if you keep playing with it.
When your hand retreats, rising to your lips for a taste, his eyes round, mouth gaping over silent words. The pink of your tongue comes out, lapping at the thick mess coating your thumb. 
“Is it okay if I get your number?” he asks after the initial shock wears away.
“Yeah,” you snort. “You can have my number. You can give me a ride home too. And we can do that again in my bed.”
The glee on his face is worth the disgusting mess between your thighs. “Hell yeah.”
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Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie
@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire
@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @writingbarnes
@dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos
@seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially @scoupsjin @isabellah29
@luvseungcheol @crisle19
© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.
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zephyrchama · 7 months ago
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(Mentions/descriptions of minor injuries, present and past.)
“There, all good.”
“Thanks, Satan.”
Your leg looked much better now that it had been disinfected and bandaged. Not that it was in bad shape to begin with.
Anyone would have thought a dire medical emergency occurred by the way everybody had leaped into action when you fell. Six of the brothers somehow managed to carry you together - one for each limb and another two on the sides to support your back - because they couldn’t pick just one person to help you back to the classroom.
It was incredibly embarrassing. You closed your eyes to avoid making eye contact with any of the other students, but you still heard the hallway whispers and Thirteen’s loud laughter.
Once back inside, Lucifer immediately evacuated his seat behind the podium at the front of the room. You were placed down like a precious glass ornament. Each brother played a different role in patching you up, but you would have been fine on your own.
“This cut kind of reminds me of one I got as a kid.” You twisted your leg around a few times to look it over. “It’s in the same spot.”
Mammon leaned against the back of the chair and grabbed your shoulders. “Are you tellin’ me you cut your leg before?”
“…yes?”
“First time I’ve heard that.” Beelzebub frowned.
Satan nodded thoughtfully, hand on chin, “you’ve never told us this before.”
“Yeah, ‘cuz I just remembered it.” It happened so long ago that you completely forgot.
Asmodeus buried his face in his hands. “How could you be so irresponsible?”
“I was a kid! Kids get scrapes all the time. I probably got it the same way, too.”
“You fell? Well… At least it didn’t scar.”
“Asmo, how d’ya know that?” Mammon asked.
“Because I know every inch of their skin very intimately.” Asmodeus smirked.
Mammon gripped your shoulders tighter. “Ok! Well! So do I!” he growled.
Leviathan came to sit on the floor next to you, looking worried. He fiddled with your pants leg to make sure the hem wouldn’t roll down over your bandage. “So there were other times you got hurt as a kid?”
“I mean, yeah? Bruised my arm pretty badly one time, right here.” You pointed to the spot.
“How come you never told us?” Belphegor asked. He was craning his head up to look at you while laying on the table, which Lucifer hadn’t noticed until that moment. The eldest gave him a push.
Belphegor muttered some choice words and slunk off to get a chair of his own, which he relocated closer to you. It screeched loudly as he dragged it along the floor. Beelzebub just stared and the others flinched, but Satan and Lucifer looked ready for violence until the youngest finally plopped down.
“We’re supposed to know everything about you,” he stated.
“Since when?”
“Since forever,” Leviathan was quick to clarify. “You have to tell us everything, and don’t spare any details.” His sentence ended there, but you swear you heard “the lore…” whispered almost imperceptibly.
“You better not be holdin’ back on us.” Mammon shifted a bit. He appeared to be getting tired of standing, but didn’t want to give up his prime real estate by your side.
“So I have to tell you everything? Like… when a butterfly poked me in the eye?”
A couple of them winced.
“Did it hurt?” Asmodeus asked.
“Did you tear it apart?” Belphegor asked.
“No, I think I was more shocked than anything? Maybe a little? And no!” You glanced down. “Levi, stop taking notes about me.”
Leviathan tutted and swiped out of the notes app on his D.D.D..
These demons and their theatrics. You couldn’t help but smile. “You’re all just overreacting, as usual.”
Satan shook his head. “No, I think you’re under-reacting. There are lots of dangers to humans in the Devildom. You could have gotten a nasty infection.”
Asmodeus gasped, “you could have lost your leg!”
”Or attracted predators,” Beelzebub added.
“On school grounds? Please. At worst I’d only attract Mephisto sniffing around for a scoop for his newspaper.”
Lucifer crossed his arms. You had faith he was going to say something sensible. “At least this isn’t as bad as that time you bruised your rear in the bath.”
There were seven scandalized gasps, including your own. “I told you that in confidence!”
Mammon was yelling in your ear, “how come I wasn’t the first to know about this? Hah?”
Asmodeus lept forward, “show me where!”
“Is it still there?” Satan inquired.
“Do you not trust us anymore?” Beelzebub looked deflated.
“That’s not it, Beel, I just- ack, Levi!” You shouted and shook your bandaged leg as the third-born clung to it desperately.
“It wasn’t my bathtub, right?” he practically sobbed. “Aahhh, I knew I needed to fill it with more pillows. Ahhhh.”
“Why would they be anywhere your tub?” Belphegor took hold of Levi’s collar and wretched him back. By the way he fell, it wouldn’t be odd for Leviathan to get a butt bruise, too.
“If it happened in your room, you would have been there,” you assured, knowing this would start another round of arguing.
The bell signaling next period mercifully rang. You’d never been happier for class to start again. All that was left was to get to your usual seat, which you stood up to do.
“Woah, whaddya think you’re doing?” Mammon put an arm in front of you.
“Going to my seat…?”
“You’re in it, sit back down.” Lucifer said.
You hesitated, giving them a puzzled look. For a moment you considered running past them. A simple cut wouldn’t hold you back, but there were no scenarios where you could outrun them without magic. You narrowed your eyes and sat down as the seven surrounded you again. You got a bad feeling.
“Just make it quick.”
Other students were already starting to filter into the room. You didn’t particularly want to be seen being relocated by these overly doting brothers. You grabbed the edge of the seat as four of them lifted it up, with the others griping about there being insufficient space for them to grab hold anywhere.
1K notes · View notes
meo-eiru · 22 days ago
Note
DUDE I JUST PLAYED THROUGH THE GAME, WHY IS IT SO SADDDD😭😭😭
and why is he hot
Starling went through quite a few redesigns through the entire development process so let me talk about it a bit :3
It all started with this notes app drawing I made with my finger
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Right from the start we knew his tail would be made out of tongues but figuring out how many and placed how was quite hard, I really had to girlmath my way thru
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This was the first actual drawing I made of him. The story wasn't complete yet but I went ahead and designed something anyway. Here he was definitely "scarier" and his scar was also placed differently. He had gills on his neck but as you will see I changed their location to under his arms later on. We were actually considering not giving him a tongue of his own so I wanted to make his mouth terrifyingly big and empty.
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Here I tried giving him bigger eyes like a fish. This was when his playful and childlike personality had started shaping as you can see from the expressions. I definitely liked this direction better but it also wasn't perfect just yet so I went ahead and did a few more changes
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I slowed down on trying to figure out his design a bit after that and instead focused on how his sprite would look. He is a merman after all, he can't just stand straight like a lot of the other visual novel characters. This stage was PAINFUL.
These were the first ones I sketched, we ended up deciding we liked the 3rd one the best.
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I carried that 3rd one over to another canvas and started playing around with how we could place his tail, we started entertaining the idea of having him sit on a big rock
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This is when his pose really shaped up. The animated Little Mermaid movie was actually a big inspiration, I sat and rewatched the entire movie and studied how they animated her tail
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And after that I finally finalized his design. We decided to change the end of his tail to be more eel like for aesthetic purposes (normal tail shape looked weird with tongues)
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And for anyone wondering this is what Maelyn looked like at first. Since the story wasn't complete yet I thought it'd take place in a more modern setting and designed her with that in mind but we decided to have the story take place in 1800s so I changed the design based on that. I did a lot of research on glasses and corsets to make the design as accurate as I could.
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Yes glasses! We didn't use the sprites in the main story but Maelyn does wear glasses and looks very pretty in them if you ask me. You will be seeing more of it in the bonus episodes!
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408 notes · View notes
simpxxstan · 7 months ago
Text
Nobody Else (final: part 2)
pairing: chaebol!wonwoo x chaebol!fem.reader
genre: enemies with benefits to lovers, smut (minors do not interact please), arranged marriage, a lot of angst, and some fluff.
summary: the girl who was proud about making her own destiny, the boy she swore to never interact with. sometimes it takes a lifetime to know someone, even yourself. because who would've seen any of this coming?
chapter word count: 22.8k
warnings: angst warnings: overthinking, anxiety, a lot of it. spiralling, constant worries, mention of insomnia. mention of illnesses and a lung tumour, hospitals, medical treatments, relapse. discussions about death. please do not read if you find these triggering! a lot of arguing and usage of profanities. mention of smoking, drinking, food.
smut warnings: oral sex (m. receiving, f. receiving), usage of sex toys, unprotected sex, overstimulation, dom-sub dynamics, breast play, spanking, use of spit during sex, usage of petnames (darling, babe, sweetheart, princess, baby for female), degradation, usage of sir (for male), sir kink, marriage kink, breeding kink, office sex, elevator sex, sex in a public place.
a/n: OH MY GOD. so many people were waiting for this, i can't even imagine. i've had some really tough months when i could not find time to write at all, so i am very sorry for the delay. well, here you go! i hope it meets your satisfactions! putting the taglist in a reblog because the fanfic itself is massive. please let me know your thoughts!! reblogs, comments and asks are so appreciated <3 thank you for reading!
part 1
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You bite your nails nervously. You do this often, it’s a habit you mask well through regular manicures at your home. No one knows about it. No one needs to know. 
You’ve tried it all in these last two days, you swear. You’ve tried every trick on the web- listing the pros and cons of your thoughts on a sheet of paper (on your phone’s notes app), venting to someone (yourself in the mirror), meditation, drinking wine and unwinding in a bathtub, listening to white noise to help you sleep. 
It doesn’t help. Nothing does. Nothing helps to erase the thoughts from your mind, nothing helps to stop the cogs and wheels of the gears turning in your head, nothing helps to drown out the noise of your overthinking. You’ve worried yourself to a fever, and it’s on the fourth day that Jisung caves in and asks you, “Ma’am, are you doing okay?”
You can trust him, you know that. He had, after all, not outed your antics to your mother in spite of her attempts at bribing him with a higher salary. He had remained loyal to you, as he had himself confirmed when you’d brought up the issue with him the day after the fateful lunch invitation. 
But he feels too close, too personal, and yet too distant. He would understand, and yet nothing at all. It feels like a gamble.
“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” You smile, while popping another paracetamol. At least the fever and its meds help you sleep. 
“You don’t look like yourself. I don’t know if I am in a position to say this, but… is this about the thing your mother discussed with you Ma’am?”
“Are you reading my mind, Jisung-ah? Is that your secret to being the best secretary in the world?” You chuckle drily, staring outside the glass window that makes up a wall in your office. It’s a rainy day, not the stormy kind, but the pestering kind. Where it drizzles light enough that people don’t want to carry umbrellas, but the rain is so insistent, it drenches you right through anyway. 
“I don’t know how appropriate it is for me to ask anything regarding this Ma’am. But I genuinely am curious about how Mr Y/L/N and Mr Jeon agreed to it in the first place.”
On the day you’d spoken to him about the entire affair, you’d told him the truth about your relationship with Wonwoo. His loyalty had earned him at least this much truth, and you were glad to have a confidant. You tried to play it off as coolly as you could, but as soon as you’d spilled the truth, you’d realise what a big weight had been relieved off your chest. It felt like being a teenager again. You had explained to Jisung that it was not romantic in the least, and in fact, you wanted to draw an end to it. You didn’t care to tell him that it was because you were addicted like a drug. 
That was the problem. These last three days wouldn’t have become such a burden for you had you simply called Wonwoo and sought his help. Like a magician, he’d silence the thoughts in your mind and leave you with more clarity than ever, almost like a fresh slate beginning anew. You knew he was the perfect solution, but you had decided to cut it off. There was no point in persisting in this kind of a relationship where you weren’t even friends, not even on talking terms, and yet you needed him to stabilise you. All while he didn’t need you at all. For him, you were just another of his regulars. He’s probably already replaced you by now. 
“My mother can be… very capable when she wants. She has her ways.”
“I’m sure she does. It must not have been an easy feat to swallow pride to agree to the idea of the wedding and take the Jeons out for lunch.”
Words get stuck in your throat. Pride. You’ve never let go of it. Life has been humbling, but you’ve never stopped being proud of who you are and what you’ve been able to achieve. All the dreams you’ve fulfilled. It forms an integral part of who you’ve become, your identity, and the way you perceive yourself. You’ve tried to not let it become arrogance nor vanity, although you have had sufficient reasons. That discipline is also something you pride yourself on. 
“But I guess it’s not a big price for happiness,” Jisung completes his little philosophical speech and busies himself with arranging out letters on your desk that need to be signed, arranged in order of urgency. “I’ll be at my desk Ma’am, should you need any help.” He bows and leaves the room, and you’re still staring out of the window. 
Happiness. 
What an odd word.  What an odd sensation for the billions of people across the world to be chasing all their lives. You had always considered yourself to be above that rat race for gratification and validation. Your successes spoke for itself, and you had no reason to consider yourself unhappy when you were living the dream you’d envisioned since you were a child. 
But are you happy?
_
It’s just for an enjoyable late night drive, you reason with yourself when you find yourself driving on the road that takes you from your office to Wonwoo’s office building. It’s just to see if their coffee has improved, you think, when you step into the building and walk inside. It’s just to see if their employees are forced to work overtime, you figure, when you’re granted a visitor pass by the reception desk even though they’re shocked to see you here. 
“What are you doing here?”
Wonwoo stares at you from the end of the corridor. It’s not lit very brightly and totally empty. 
“Are you busy?”
Wonwoo’s tongue goes into his left cheek, you see it through his skin. He’s wearing a suit in baby blue. You knew he’d look good in blue. 
“Yes. I’m working late as you can see. I don’t enjoy it particularly, so I don’t do it unless I’m really behind on work.”
And why’s that so? Trying to catch up with our closing figures for the financial year? A snarky comment is on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t want to say it. The jibe feels tasteless, even for you. 
No, tonight you’re here in desperation, you finally admit to yourself. You’re here because like any other addict, it’s hard to let go once you get used to the high of happiness you ride when the dopamine kicks in.
“Sorry. I’ll leave.” His rejection is clear. He knows what you’re here for, that’s for sure. You’d never go out of your way to come to his office if it had been for anything else. It’s a good reminder call of reality. 
This is the boy your parents want you to marry. This is the boy you rejected from marrying and from sleeping with. He has every right to turn you down now.
Wonwoo takes a step forward, you take a step backward. It’s a dance. You pause, you don’t even know when you were on the verge of tears. You bite your lips and turn away your face. You walk away quickly, as silently as you arrived. Your thoughts are loud enough to mask the sound of Wonwoo jogging after you, and you only realise when he grabs your arm as soon as you enter the elevator. He enters too, naturally, face a bit flushed from the chase, but before you can ask him what’s up, he pushes you against the mirror on the back of the elevator and kisses you hard. 
It knocks your breath away. In the best way possible. 
You kiss him back. Wildly, passionately. Like lovers, you would think in retrospection, not like rivals who fuck. As if you’d missed each other. Another second of overthinking and you’d delude yourself into believing that he needs you as much as you do. But thankfully, he kisses well enough to wash your thoughts away. 
“Don’t run away from me like that, girl.” He snarls near your ear, his breath making you ticklish, and you whimper when he begins to kiss your neck. He’s going to leave marks again, and frankly, you can’t find it in yourself to reprimand him. Not when your brain is finally drifting away from the anxiety. 
The elevator dings just as he puts his lips back on yours, tongue forcing itself in. You break apart, gasping for air. You haven’t even noticed what a mess you’ve made of his hair. “Wonwoo I… I can leave, really. If you’re busy.” “No, stay.” He doesn’t step away from you even when the elevator door opens, holding you down with his hands, keeping you close to him. The elevator door closes again, and he frantically presses the floor number of his office. “Come with me while I pack up,” he says as an explanation, and you understand. Then he unbuttons your shirt and begins to suck bruises all over the exposed flesh over your collarbones and chest, hands fondling with your breasts. Even over the bra, he instantly finds your nipples and rubs them to perfect hardness, making them so sensitive, that when he lifts you up into his arms and wraps your legs around his waist, your nipples brush against his face and he can feel the nubs poking out. 
“You get turned on like you’re a touch-starved bitch,” he says roughly, making you thrash your arms against his back for the rudeness, before chuckling and thrusting his mouth onto the clothed nipples to suck them while he walks out of the elevator, holding you in his arms still, and seemingly facing no difficulty in walking at all. You become silent again, as you ponder on how strong he really must be, and his bites at your nipples do nothing to prevent the manhandling kink from showing itself. 
“Take me on your desk, Wonwoo.” You beg as he enters his office, but he laughs and puts you down on his chair. Thankfully the entire floor is empty. He begins to arrange papers and turn off his desktop, while you sit silently at his desk. The high slowly wears out as his clearing up takes longer and longer, until you’re no longer turned on anymore and reality strikes. 
He looks at you once all the work is done, staring deep at your soul, making you feel naked. Consciously, you start to button up your shirt and fix your collar.
“I thought we were done with this, Y/N.”
He says it like you’d dumped him while dating, and it’s funny. But you can’t laugh. You did cut him off and now you’re begging him to take you back. It’s a little absurd- inconsistency has never been one of your weaknesses. You’re tempted to dissect it in your brain and understand why it’s happening, but you fall into a spiral of overthinking again.
It’s getting tough to breathe.
You stand up and walk around the room. It’s spacious, with a simple layout, nothing modern like your own office space. You can’t blame it, it definitely screams Wonwoo to you. Instead of huge windows on the walls, he has mahogany shelves stacked with books. Instead of a statement chandelier, he has minimalist lights in focal points of the room. Instead of a charcoal grey settee with everything in cool shades of steel, his office is done in off-white, decorated with rich tones of wood. The room tells you so much about Wonwoo, although you probably know it all already- legacy, tradition and diligence. This is what he’s made of, old money that takes no risks and succeeds without gambles. 
“You know why I had to come back.”
“That doesn’t change anything.” He walks up to you, standing in front of you, as you gaze at the books on his shelves. “Y/N, look at me.” And you do. He looks like Adonis and you want to kiss him. “You said it was getting toxic for you.” He snaps you back to attention, and you sigh. “I can’t… Wonwoo, I tried. But I…” you walk away, unable to continue. Continuing would mean telling him what’s driving you to the brink of anxiety every moment of the day.
“We can talk. If this is about that day, we’re in this together. We may not be friends, but we can be allies in this.” 
The simple way in which he says these words, you don’t think he realises how much more vulnerable he makes you feel. How much more tempted to spill it all to him and be relieved of the burden of this worry. 
“I don’t want to talk to you, Wonwoo. I didn’t come here for talking.” You walk back towards him. “Fuck me and make my brain stop thinking, please.” He closes his eyes for a second. The tension is palpable, it’s making your palms sweat. You tilt your head and gently lean in to kiss the edge of his jaw. His stubble grazes against your softer lips and it’s a nice feeling. 
“I can’t say no when you ask like this.”
_
You wake up in the middle of the night, clammy with sweat and naked under the sheets, alone in Wonwoo’s king-sized bed. Your wrists hurt from being tied with his tie for too long, and you’re definitely too sore to move, but the pleasant buzz all over your body is too good a sensation to forgo. But now that you’ve woken up, you feel thirsty and hot all over, so you get out of bed. You notice your underwear neatly kept on the couch, Wonwoo had taken care to not rip them. You quickly wear them before looking for any waterbottle in the room. Seeing none, and not seeing Wonwoo either, you open the bedroom door and slowly tiptoe your way outside. Once past the small corridor, you notice there’s a dim light in the kitchen, and you can see Wonwoo’s shadow from far away. As you step closer, you notice he’s wearing formals, complete with a glazing white shirt and a grey tie, and his hair is brushed back neatly, although his pants are still pyjamas. He’s doing something on his laptop. You wait in the shadows for a few minutes, trying to understand if he’s in a video meeting or something, but you only hear frantic typing noises from the kitchen. After a whole five minutes pass, you step into the kitchen, and Wonwoo looks up at the same time. 
“Oh! You scared me.”
“Are you in a meeting?”
“No, it got over a while back. Why are you up?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“The meeting was with a firm in Canada. They couldn’t adjust timings.”
“And you couldn’t get someone else to do it for you?” You huff, annoyed at how unbothered he is about waking up this ungodly hour and sitting for meetings. You once again thank Jisung for scheduling foreign meetings at suitable timings.
“Do you get someone else to attend your important meetings for you?” 
You both stay in silence for a minute, Wonwoo sitting on his kitchen stool, and you standing awkwardly near the door, staring at each other. It’s only when you start shivering in the cold that you realise what you actually came here for.
“You’re working hard. Too hard. Don’t try to compete with me, Jeon.” You lean down on the island next to him, close enough to hear his breathing but not touching him at all. 
“Go to bed, Y/N.”
“I was thirsty. Where do you keep water in your house?” 
He gets up from his stool and brings a bottle. “Drink, and go to sleep. Or go home.”
You silently sip the cool water, without replying. You can see the dawn slowly coming up from the window in the kitchen, lighting the room up. The circles under Wonwoo’s eyes become prominent to you, and for no reason at all, your heart aches. This is what it’s going to be like, marrying you, Jeon Wonwoo, you think, as you look at him with a careful glance. He’s focusing on his laptop again, typing at light speed, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose. You’re sipping water from his bottle, in his kitchen, wearing nothing but your underwear, and watching the sunrise. Is this what those nights filled with deadlines and insomnia are going to look like if you get married? Is this what staying up together will look like? Is this what watching the dawn together will be like? The sensation tingles your nerves and makes you anxious again. 
“Y/N, if you want to say something, just say it. Or go to sleep, trust me. You’ll need to wake up fresh tomorrow morning.”
The kitchen is warm, cosy, and filled with the familiar scent of Wonwoo’s body. You want to stay wrapped in it, and not say a word. You don’t want to break this moment, although you have no idea why sharing this simple moment is making you so emotional. Perhaps because you’ve never done it before and never imagined you would do it?
“My father is dying, Wonwoo.” 
Wonwoo stops typing and looks up.
“He has a tumour in his lungs.”
“Since when?”
“A few months now. He hadn’t told me. He didn’t want to bother me, my mom said.”
There’s a beat of silence. Again the warmth of the kitchen wraps you up and you both stare out at the slowly brightening sky outside. As a girl, you’d hate watching the sunrise. It would remind you of the nights you’d been unable to sleep and had been forced to stay up all night. But now, you can appreciate its beauty. Its consistency, its reliability. It happens every day. One of the precious few things that happen regularly, you’ve come to realise. 
Wonwoo breaks the silence. “So why now?”
“Huh?”
“Why tell you now, of all times?”
“He wants to see me married before he dies.”
Wonwoo shuts down the lid of his laptop with a smash, knowing fully what’s coming next.
“Y/N. What do you want?” He stands up and comes to stand next to you, leaning against the counter and looking down at you.
There are many things you want to say. I don’t want to throw away my freedom. I don’t want to marry a stranger. I don’t want to dance to my Appa’s whims. I don’t want to lose focus on my career. I don’t want to marry you. “I don’t want to disappoint him, Wonwoo.” It’s the ultimate truth. It’s what has fueled you for years- the desire to become that child for your parents who would take care of them when they need you, to love silently and support unconditionally, to give back everything they’d given to you. 
“I don’t want to lose him.”
“Is this what you were so worried about?” You look up at him, and he tilts your face upwards with his hand on your chin. You want to lean into the warmth of his palm. “Yes. I don’t… I … I don’t know what to do. I feel so helpless.”
“What about treatment?”
“Stage 4, practically impossible, that’s what the reports say. My mom showed them to me. She cried so much, and I… I couldn’t do anything. I can’t do anything.” You move away from him, turning your body to the other side. He lets you move away.
“Treatment abroad? In the US?”
“Yes, that’s… that’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. I’ve spoken to a few people, but Appa is adamant. He refuses to talk to me about this every time I’ve raised it, these last few days.”
He sighs. Your heart aches again. You don’t even notice when tears begin rolling down your cheeks. You’ve never felt more alone than this, more helpless, more pitiful. What worth were your dreams and successes if life successfully left you unshielded in one stroke?
“Let’s get married. You’ll have more bargaining power to talk to him then.”
He makes it sound so simple. You’ve thought of this a hundred times before, and you still can’t register that he just said that. You turn around slowly, looking up at him through your wet eyelashes. “Don’t joke with me.”
“I’m not.”
“But I don’t want to marry you.”
“Even if it gets your Appa into a good treatment abroad?”
You stomp your foot, and hurt your bare toes on the cold tile. “Why is my Appa so stubborn?”
“Just like you, isn’t he?”
You glare at Wonwoo, but he’s deadly serious. There’s not a hint of a joke on his face, and he genuinely seems to be invested in this idea. “You’re serious.” “I am. I wouldn’t offer marriage to you casually.” You bite your lip, your heart rate begins to slow down. Wave after wave of calm washes over you, suddenly you can breathe well again. “You’re serious,” you say again, not believing it still. “I am. Do you want me to go down on my knees?” “Wonwoo, you’re not thinking about this. Don’t turn your back on me when you regret it later. This isn’t a light thing, it’s a marriage, for fuck’s sake!” “Is your Appa’s life more precious than your ego?” “If it weren’t, I wouldn’t have come begging to you, would I?” “Then you know why I’m agreeing to this.” “Wonwoo, don’t take this on your conscience. I’ll forgive you if you step back right now.” “I won’t forgive myself.” He bends down to your eye level, and takes your chin in his hand again. “It isn’t going to be that bad, is it?”
You let out such a big sigh of relief that you’re sure the air tickles Wonwoo’s palm holding on to your chin. 
_
You don’t fall asleep that night, or rather morning. Wonwoo makes tea, and you sit on the living room couch, an arm’s distance away from each other, chalking out a plan to convince your Appa to go abroad for treatment.
“When did your mother come and tell you all this?”
“The day after the lunch. She called me over.”
You’re our breadwinner now, Y/N. Your father didn’t want to tell you because he doesn’t want to bother you anymore. Your mother’s words echo in your mind. Is this what you’d come down to? Were you that male who couldn’t be bothered with any problems of the household just because you earned an income? Had you become those slimy men you’d hated all your life? Just because you had taken over the company didn’t mean you had stopped being their daughter, for god’s sake. 
“He wants to die in Korea, he says.”
“That doesn’t mean we let him die without treatment.”
We. Wonwoo has started using it so freely, as if he’s truly considering you an ally like he had said before. 
“What are you going to get out of this?” You perch yourself on the kitchen counter, your bare legs dangling next to where Wonwoo sits on his stool. You’re chewing on the granola bar you found in the fridge because you’re suddenly hungry.
Wonwoo looks at you for a second, pensive and thoughtful in the pause before replying. “We don’t have to do forever and always. We can divorce after the treatment is done.” 
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I have my reasons.”
The sunrise is beautiful, another day has begun. Although one tornado in your heart has calmed down, it doesn’t mean you’re completely at peace though. You’re still burning with worry, there are a thousand questions floating in your head. You don’t know the answers to most of them, and you’re scared just like you had been when you had stepped into the adult world on your own footing, for the first time. But unconsciously, you’ve come to realise that you’re not alone this time.
You have Jeon Wonwoo with you.
_
You drive directly to your sister’s house to tell her about your decision. You realise that she has no idea that your mother has spilled the news about your father’s health to you, when you tell her that you’re only agreeing to this marriage on one condition. She tries to deny it at first, but then she realises it’s a useless task against your obstinacy. 
“If you could admit now that you were dating Wonwoo, why didn’t you admit it that day?” she says finally, resignedly. 
“So that you could hide Appa’s illness from me forever?
“It’s nothing like that.”
“Firstly, tell me why you’d been stalking me for so long.”
“Not for so long. Ever since Appa found out, he became obsessed with settling you down. It’s become his last wish, you know, that kind of thing. His last project. His last duty. His last task to complete before he… you know. It was just a happy coincidence that as soon as we prodded your chauffeur he spilled that you and Wonwoo had been spending an awful lot of time together.”
You scoff. 
“Yeah, well, Wonwoo and I needed to talk over things. Commitment and stuff. Anyway, now we’ll give Appa what he wants. Promise me you won’t object to anything I say. Promise me you and Mom will back me up when I take him to the US for treatment.”
Her eyes soften down, tears brimming on the edge.
“He always loved you more, you know? Probably because you’re exactly like him.” “Unnie…” “No! I’m not jealous or anything. It’s natural to have a favourite child. He’s only human, after all. He found his ideal child in you- responsible and independent. He really sees himself in you, that’s why.” 
You hug your sister from the side, as you sit down on the couch. Her belly is quite bulging now, stretched against the fabric of the loose lycra dress.
“If anyone can convince him, it’s you, Y/N-ah. Our maknae. The apple of his eye.” She smiles. There’s something so broken in her eyes, and you hate it. Your Unnie, who you’ve never seen sad. You wonder how much she’s had to hide from you to keep this news a secret. You wonder how long they’d planned to keep it a secret, anyway. 
“Do you trust me, Unnie?”
She kisses your forehead, and smiles again, “Yes of course. Where’s this coming from?”
“It’s just… nothing. I just want to know I’m not alone.”
“You never were, sweetheart.”
_
After that, everything becomes a whirlwind. You barely have time to process things, how fast they happen. Wonwoo informs his parents, there’s another meal shared by the two families. You both still don’t tell anyone the truth about your relationship, and frankly, there’s no need to explain, when both families are so happy with the wedding. Especially your father. His eyes shine, and you stick by his side all evening. 
“My little girl’s all grown up now.” He says to you later. You almost cry at the fondness of his words, affection he rarely shows. There’s no more words spoken. There’s no need for words. You tuck him into bed, and pat him to sleep. You don’t want to leave his side at all.
_
You don’t cross paths with Wonwoo for the week running up to the wedding. There’s a clear division of work- he’s handling the internal logistics, and you’re running the external front. This is nothing but a business project for the two of you. You’ve pushed the worries about the marriage to the back burner, your priority being your father right now. You’ve already booked a treatment plan for him in the US, booked his flight tickets, and sorted everything out. Of course, you haven’t approached the topic with him yet, but you drop hints every day. 
You’ve decided to live with your parents until the wedding. You find it harder to stay away from them these days. Somehow, everything reminds you of them, and you’re brought to tears in the middle of a work meeting one day, when you remember how your father had brought you to the first stakeholder meeting when you were 16 years old, to introduce you to the world of business. You don’t want to leave life upto fate anymore. At least not the bits you can help. 
Part of managing the external front is speaking to the media. There’s countless questions at your latest press conference. Although the conference is to launch a new product, the journalists seem to be more interested in hearing the truth about the rumours currently floating around. You’d expected this, that’s why you’d timed the release of the rumours and the launch of the product at the same time. The public opinion needs to be in favour of your marriage, otherwise the alliance would hurt you both. 
“Y/L/N Y/N-ssi, is it true that you’re soon getting married to Jeon Wonwoo-ssi of Jeon Estates?” 
You blush, again a carefully practised move. You’ve spent many a minute in front of a youtube screen last night, trying to perfect the fake blush.
“Are we really going to discuss personal matters at an official conference like this?” Another measured smile, followed by a general laugh rippling across the audience for the sake of being polite. “But yes, it’s true. I won’t try to hide it anymore.”
At that very moment, a thousand questions pop up from all corners. “Anymore? Y/L/N Y/N-ssi, does that mean that you’ve been together for a long time now?” “Can we expect a merger of Jeon Estates with your company, then?” “Is the marriage a business decision or an affair of love?”
You’re another fake smile away from throwing up right now. Their curiosity gets on your nerves, you know that no matter what you say, they’re going to interpret what they really want to. Thankfully Jisung, who is moderating, carefully steps in and stops the journalists from asking any more questions. “We’ll not be taking any more personal questions. With that we come to the end of the conference. If you have any more questions, please write to us and we shall answer them over mail. Thank you for attending today.”
You exit the conference hall quickly, eyes hurting from the flashlights. It’s going to only get worse, you think. Time to brace for impact.
_
It’s only the night before the wedding that you get the jitters. You’re sitting on the floor of the balcony, looking at the roads of the Seoul night view, stress-eating cotton candy. You can’t believe that this is happening. Would you ever be able to have guessed this is how you’d be getting married? Not that you had ever harboured any ambitions about love or marriage. You’d been happy to see your parents share a loving marriage, and your sister as well. But since a young age, you’d decided that marriage was not for you. Sex? That was necessary. Dating? Perhaps, but casual. Love? Your first relationship in college had convinced you it was not your forte- you’d fallen out of feelings after a few months, and you had never tried to fall in love again. Marriage? Not even on the cards right now. Kids? Probably never. You didn’t think you’d live that long. 
And yet, your wedding invite was sitting idle on your lap. Printed on beautiful handmade paper, intrinsically engraved with orchid petals, and the fonts printed out in a loopy serif font, it was really pretty. Posh and classy, like everybody expected. It had been sent out to a few people only, Wonwoo had asked for a small wedding, and you had happily agreed. Having to deceive your parents and sister was bad enough. Lesser the better. 
The doorbell rings. You’re taken by surprise, not expecting anyone at this hour. Probably Jisung, perhaps he’s come to drop something off. That boy’s working too hard as well, you need to give him a raise after this entire affair is finished. 
But it’s Wonwoo. 
“Are you busy?” He asks before even entering. 
“No?”
“Can I come in?”
He looks over your figure, the long t-shirt you’re wearing with the shorts that are hidden under the t-shirt. You’re getting more confused by the moment. You open the door wider, and he steps in. 
“What’s going on?”
“There are details we need to talk about.”
You take a deep breath, leaning against the wall. Since that conversation at dawn with Wonwoo, you had started guarding yourself against him. Something had changed in your mind- you’d feel more vulnerable next to him, more bared, more naked. Even if he didn’t look at you, you’d feel like you could read your mind all the time. 
“Like what?”
“I made a contract. It’s a… guidebook of sorts.” He sits at the sofa, taking out his phone and placing it on your coffee table. He’s wearing his work clothes, so you’re guessing he’s come directly from work. “What’s it about?” You sit next to him, and he pushes your phone towards you. “Do you have a printer? We could print it out. Or you can-” “I’ll get a print. Do you want something?” He leans back on the sofa, but his posture is still stiff. You’ve not seen him like this. It’s almost like he’s nervous. “No. I need to leave quickly, so it’s best if you can go through this quickly. I don’t have time to waste.” You roll your eyes and stand up, keeping your knee perched on the sofa, terribly close to where his hand is. “What’s this attitude? We’re getting married tomorrow, and this is how you’re going to be?” “Well, what did you expect? Just because I agreed to marry and help you out, doesn’t mean I’m going to suddenly be in love with you.” “Help me out? I didn’t fucking need your help, Wonwoo!” “Really? Your desperation told me something else that night.” He’s standing up now too, and it feels like he’s towering over you on purpose to make you feel small. You take a step back, he doesn’t move forward. It’s not push and pull, it’s gravity unwinding. 
“Listen, we can still call this off. I don’t want to be an object of your pity.”
“Pity? I wanted to help you, Y/N. There’s a difference, or is your brain too ego-clouded to understand?”
“Wonwoo, I could marry anyone-”
“And yet, it was me you came to!”
“It was convenient! I couldn’t really marry … say, Jisung, when my parents had proof that we’d been sleeping together!”
“Oh, so it’s Jisung now-”
“It was a damn example!” You’re shouting now, but his voice is still low and hoarse. It creates goosebumps on your skin. 
“If that’s who you want to marry, you can go ahead. You better know that I have no desire to be wedded to you tomorrow!” He takes a step forward, and you step back. “What do you think I am, huh? Your toy? Today you want to fuck, tomorrow you want to end things, the next day you come begging at my door to blow your mind with my dick, and the day after that you want to get fucking married? You don’t think keeping up with your plot twists are stressful for me? Do you think I’m getting off on your mood swings? I am helping you, because you’re in a dire situation. Don’t you dare spin this narrative to anything else, because it is not charity or love for you that’s motivating me to step into this hell of a marriage that I can see coming.” 
With every word he utters, he steps closer and closer, and you keep walking back until your back hits the wall. And then he’s standing right in front of you, close enough that you can see the exact dilation of his pupils even beyond his glasses. “I don’t need your help, Wonwoo. I’m not a damsel in distress.” He closes his eyes for a second, breathing in. When his eyes do open again, they’re different- darker, yet with more clarity, less angry and yet more dangerous. He leans down, and for a second, for a delusional mindless moment, you think he’s going to kiss you. You part your lips, waiting for impact, as he tilts his head ever so slightly, all while staring into your soul.
“I don’t give a fuck about you, Y/N. I don’t care. I’m just repaying an old debt.”
Then he steps back and picks up his phone from the coffee table. “I’ll mail it to you. Don’t be a brat and make sure to read it.”
You’re still stuck against the wall like an insect, too stunned to move. Before he walks out of the door, he says without looking at you, “See you tomorrow, sweetheart.” 
_
The wedding dress is simple, nothing in frills. You see it for the first time when you wear it on the morning of your wedding. As you sit in your dressing room, revising your vows, your sister enters. She’s all but jumping in excitement. “Darling, why so serious?” She grabs your hands and smiles widely at you. “Today’s your big day! Don’t think about Appa’s sickness today, or work stuff, or anything at all. Your wedding day isn’t going to come back, so you make sure to make the most of it!” You wish you could laugh at her face, her words seeming ridiculous to you. You wish she wasn’t so excited, it would only save her the disappointment she’d have to face later. 
So you force a smile. “Is it time? I’m just nervous. What if I forget my vows?” “Then you forget them. You love Wonwoo, Y/N-ie. You can just declare your love freely. You don’t need to stick to a script. Go ahead and curse him if you like!” You do laugh at this, and she joins you too. “There! That’s my girl. Honestly, discovering that you and Wonwoo… together… it was a shock for us. Like, we’d never thought of you both ever liking each other. But then, it made sense. Especially what he had said that night, I remember. That’s the moment I knew, something was definitely up” You gawk, “What night?” She giggles, “That night at the party. You know? Don’t act dumb, cutie.” She wriggles her eyebrows and it dawns on you what exactly she was referring to. Fuck. Of course she had heard, fuck Wonwoo for being so damn loud. 
You got out of your head, when someone called you to the hall, telling you that it’s time. You slowly make your way out of your dressing room, making sure your dress doesn’t get spoiled. Your father waits outside the room, dressed elegantly. 
“Are you ready?”
There’s an odd peace in his eyes, as he smiles at you with pride. 
Fuck it. Thank god you’re getting married early. Otherwise who’d walk you down the aisle… if you got too late?
“Yes, Appa.” You smile back, and loop your arm through his outstretched arm. 
_
The gates of the hall open up, revealing a beautifully decorated banquet, with an announcer standing in the centre, to conduct the ceremony. All the guests turn to look at you, dressed to their nines. But you’ve got eyes on only one person in the room. 
For the first time in your life, you think Wonwoo looks beautiful. Attraction based on looks was barely something you experienced with him, but today you realise why people fell for him like dominos. He looks absolutely regal in his tuxedo- simple, yet that’s what suits him perfectly. You think, you’ve never seen Wonwoo wear anything excessive, always minimalistic, and really he looks best like that. Because he doesn’t need any accessories, his face does enough. 
“Go, sweetheart,” your father leaves you midway the walkway, and you realise you have to walk the rest of the way on your own. You bow a little to Appa, and then look up front again. Your eyes meet Wonwoo’s and your heart races. He looks too pretty to be real, and yet you find yourself walking towards him. The entire audience erupts into applause when Wonwoo takes a few steps forward and extends his hand. You take it, and he accompanies you to your place, dropping your hand only after a slight peck pressed on the back of your hand. The crowd erupts in cheers again, and for the first time in your life, you blush genuinely. 
You stand facing the announcer, not daring to look at the man next to you. You have enough time to look at him anyway. 
_
The rest of the wedding ceremony went off peacefully. After reciting your vows perfectly, hand in Wonwoo’s hand, avoiding his eye contact desperately, and exchanging the rings, the announcer asked you to kiss. Well, that was easy. He didn’t use tongue, thankfully, otherwise you would’ve moaned in public. Even the drinks and dinner arrangement afterwards was easy. Smiling and small talk came like free flow to you after so many years. 
The hard part comes later, when you both sit in your designated limousine, exhausted after the long ceremonies of the day. Your feet hurt in the heels, and using the washroom had been a pain in the dress, so you’d desperately held on to your bladder. You’re counting down the minutes to going home, and all you want is peace.
But Wonwoo, like so many other things, is not on the same page as you. 
“Where are we going?” You ask, noticing that the car’s heading in the opposite direction as your house.
“To my house.”
“Wait, what?”
He looks up from his phone. “Didn’t you read the guide?” 
“Wonwoo, I’m not jobless, you know.”
“I fucking knew it. Right, you’re too busy being a brat.” He mutters under his breath, before opening a can of a fizzy drink from the mini cooler inside the car, and looking outside the window. 
“I haven’t even packed my stuff, Wonwoo. I can shift in once I’ve got my stuff ready.”
“You don’t know how many eyes are following us? What will the media think if we get off at different apartments tonight? It was hard enough stopping my parents from booking us a honeymoon suite.” 
You sigh. He’s right. But he doesn’t stop talking.
“You’ve got time now, read the guidebook.”
“Just tell me what’s in it, Wonwoo. Stop making such a fuss about it. Also what the fuck is a guidebook without my suggestions.”
“If you’d read it, you would have made suggestions, darling. I wasted my time going to your place last night. Anyway, if you need anything urgently from your apartment, I’ll send my secretary to fetch it for you.”
“No thanks. I don’t need anything.”
Thank god you’re familiar with Wonwoo’s apartment, because you immediately lock yourself in the bedroom and take off your dress. Once it’s off, you unlock the room, and find an exasperated Wonwoo standing outside. “Woman, why are you monopolising territory already?”
“Just go change in the guest room, Wonwoo.” You push past him, dressed in underwear, carrying your heavy dress and laying it across the living room sofa to avoid creases from forming. Then you head straight into the bathroom to clean your makeup and take a shower. 30 minutes later you emerge, and Wonwoo’s nowhere to be seen. 
After a few minutes you find him on the small personal rooftop that extends from his apartment through a small flight of stairs. You’d never gone to the roof, but now you see it has a nice bench on it, and is surrounded by lights. 
Wonwoo’s smoking. 
“I didn’t know you smoked.”
“I didn’t know you were going to hoard my space as soon as you entered my house.”
He doesn’t look at you, still gazing out at the Seoul skyline. 
“You could’ve used the other one.”
“You could’ve used the other one.”
You breathe in once, and then speak again. 
“I’m going to bed. I’m really tired.”
“Wait.” He finally turns around, and you can see his hair is completely messed up and his eyebags are visible under his glasses again. 
“Did you take my clothes?”
“Just a pajama shirt.”
He nods, seeing what you’re wearing. The cool breeze makes your skin tingle, almost making you regret taking off your bra and wearing only panties under the shirt. 
“Goodnight.”
“You’re not coming along?”
He turns away again. Well, fuck it. It’s not like you’re going to butter him up for a response. And yet when you go downstairs again, you make sure to sleep on the left side of the bed, like you’d always done whenever you’d slept together before. You don’t know why you do it, but you go to sleep assuming he’ll eventually come to bed.
_
He doesn’t. The next morning, you wake up to see the other side of the bed absolutely empty and untouched. He’s even taken away his pillow and blanket and you suddenly find yourself shivering. When you’re awake enough, you squint at the clock on the wall and figure out that it’s almost eleven in the morning. Quite late for someone like you. But then, it has been an exhausting day. 
Did Wonwoo not sleep at all?
You put these thoughts away when you stumble into the washroom, nearly slipping because your step is unbalanced. But that minor shock completely jerks you awake at least. 
Once you’ve brushed your teeth (without even realising how your toothbrush had magically appeared in Wonwoo’s bathroom even though you hadn’t packed and brought a thing), you walk out of the room. Again, there’s no sign of Wonwoo. The house is humid, from no windows being open, so you gently open up a few sources of ventilation. As the noise from the outside world begins to float into the house, the silence gets broken and you feel less claustrophobic. Sunshine falls on the simple upholstery and decorations of the house, and it makes everything shine. It’s a hot day, but at least it’s a sunny day. You hate gloomy days. 
You quickly search for Wonwoo in every room. And you eventually notice that the bed in the guest room seems to have been slept in last night. Was that where Wonwoo had slept last night? 
It didn’t make sense. It’s not like you two had not shared a bed earlier. Sure, Wonwoo had never stayed in the same bed with you for longer than an hour after the sex, unless it was a marathon until the morning, and you rarely ever woke up next to his warm body, but it seemed absurd that he’s treating you like a complete stranger. It’s not like the movies, for fucks’ sake. You’re familiar with each other, even if you’re not in love. And sharing a bed isn’t a big deal. 
Exactly Y/N. So why are you making it such a big deal?
There’s a printout of something on the coffee table. You head over and see that it is the ‘guidebook’ he’s kept blabbering about. Why is he insisting that you read it? You have an impulse to go and dump it in the dustbin and push his limits a little further, but then you have pity on him. But it’s not like you wanted to stay with him either. He’s the one who made you come and live with him. So technically, you shouldn’t feel any remorse or pity. So you do dump the prints in the dustbin without a second look at it. 
That’s when you hear your phone ring. “Hello, I’m speaking from ABC Packages. We’re here to shift your packages from your old house to your new residence. We’re waiting outside the door, are you at home?” Huh? “I’m sorry, who asked you to do this? Do you have a name?” “Yes Ms. Y/L/N. The order came from a Jeon Wonwoo-ssi.” No wonder. “Aaah. Okay, just wanted to confirm,” you quickly say to avoid any suspicion. “Yes I’m home. I’ll open the door.” 
And so the next hour is spent in a flurry of bringing in boxes, and when the delivery persons leave, you open them all. There seems to be enough space in Wonwoo’s walk-in closet for your stuff, which isn’t much at all. So you hang up all your formals, which form the majority of your clothing, and stash the rest of it in the shelves. Your shoes are also lesser than Wonwoo’s and you barely have any accessories and makeup apart from essentials. The problem arises with your underwear and … other personal belongings. You’re not sure if Wonwoo would appreciate opening his underwear drawer to find your box of dildos stashed there. But there’s no other space, so he’ll just have to deal with it. 
Thank God you’d taken the day off. Jisung had offered that staying away from work would make the impression of the honeymoon more imminent, and you’d agreed. Although it does seem like Wonwoo had gone to work all the same. And so, you’re left all alone in the house, and while it’s a little odd, you sit at almost every surface of the apartment to get used to it. Sure, you’ve been sat at all of these before, in various positions, as Wonwoo had fucked you, but it feels different now under the sunlight. You’re not surprised to find Wonwoo’s fridge stocked almost completely with ample groceries, so making lunch isn’t a hassle (apart from the fact that you barely know how to cook anything). But all-in-all, it’s not a tedious day, and you’re settling in nicely. 
Until Wonwoo comes home, blazer on his arm and his hair messy. He lets himself in, but you’re sitting on the kitchen counter, checking out what’s kept where. “Oh, you’re here.” You turn around and see him flunking down on the sofa, legs sprawled out. “Are you that tired?” He doesn’t answer at first, just stares at you for a second too long. “I am. It’s been a long day.” “I’m making coffee, do y-” “No. I’m going to the gym now.”
Gym takes longer than you imagine. It’s well past 10 pm when Wonwoo makes his way back, and you’ve already finished your dinner of cup ramen and ice cream. He doesn’t bother to look at you and wordlessly enters the guest bathroom. You consider entering the guest room and waiting for him, and then talking to him about why he slept separately, but then you drop it. You know he won’t answer you properly, and it’ll be a waste of effort. You sigh and make your way to the bedroom, leaving the door unlocked and slightly ajar so that he knows he’s still invited inside.
_
Wonwoo and you arrive last at the little gathering your family has set up to celebrate the one month anniversary of your marriage. Wonwoo’s family is here too, along with Kyungmin Oppa and your sister, and it’s a big group even for the large sprawling, and largely empty house, where you parents reside. You’d think it’s easy to get lost in the crowd, but not when you’re the newly wed couple who’s the focus of the party. 
“I’m so disappointed y’all aren’t going on a honeymoon,” your sister endlessly complains, and she’s completely backed by the two mothers. “Yes!” Your mother joins in. Just like the rest of the family members, she seems to have bought your wedding as 100% real as well, although she should’ve been the first to connect the dots that you’re only doing this sham wedding for the sake of your father’s wishes. “I have itineraries planned for Bali, for Scandinavia, for the Maldives, or even for Japan, if you don’t want to go too far!” She giggles, and the other ladies do too. You don’t understand what’s so funny. Especially when you know how little conversation you’ve shared with your husband over the last month, in spite of not being strangers. 
In fact that makes it worse, you think. Wonwoo’s wearing a dark blue blazer over a white shirt which puts his pecs right in your face. You know what it’d be like to touch them, and bite all over them. The way he has his left hand pressed against the small of your back means he knows what it’d be like to just drop his hand an inch lower and feel your ass against his palm. Andit is worse because even though you know each other intimately, there’s so little emotional connection you feel with him now. Whatever vulnerability had developed around him when he’d first agreed to the wedding had become hardened again under his cold attitude, and you’re back to just who you were when you’d grinded up against him at your sister’s engagement party. You curse yourself for thinking that you could ever feel a nice way about Jeon Wonwoo, because honestly, look at the man. He’s probably never regretted any decision taken after midnight as much as he’s regretted the decision to marry you. 
When you sit down at the dinner table, you notice him not eating any of the seafood. You wonder if he’s just not hungry or rudely ignoring the special grilled fish that is your Appa’s speciality. It’s probably the latter- some testosterone shit. And yet, he’s speaking charmingly smoothly with your Appa, even though Wonwoo’s not much of a talker and you know that. 
When he sits in the corner of the room, smiling and talking to your mother, you wonder what lies he’s spewing. You’ve noticed how easily lies come to him at the wedding itself, when he’d spinned tale upon tale about your ‘love story’. I fell for her, honestly, for the first time, when she’d walked into my class in ninth grade. You had scoffed, remembering the disgusted expression he had worn in reality, when he’d seen you being introduced into the class. Of course, we’ve known each other for a long time now. Naturally, there have been ups and downs. Gosh, this reminds me of the time we’d gone on that date to the amusement park after our last day at school, huh? We’d fought so bitterly after that, you’d think we were enemies. Haha. You’d nearly laughed at that- your school had taken you all out to the amusement park on the last day of classes, and somehow Wonwoo and you’d been seated together on all the damn rides. Fuck him for laughing at you for becoming scared on the roller coaster rides and then pretending to take care of you when you had passed out in his arms at the very peak of the ride. You bet the teachers had cooed at him for being so chivalrous, when in reality it was a smack to your face. 
When he leaves early, and leans in to press a kiss to your lips, you almost cringe away. It feels like you’re kissing a stranger even though his lips and the stubble on his jaw feel so familiar. This is the first time he’s shown you affection in front of others. It’s all a show, you know. You gotta do what’s needed to keep the show running.  “I’ll see you at home, sweetheart,” he says before pulling away and tucking your hair behind your ears. You search in his eyes for honesty, and all you find is a dark abyss. 
_
But it seems like your family buys the facade again. Banking on the fact that they seem pleased with your husband, and on your good choice of marriage, you finally broach the real issue with your father. You’re both sitting at the patio, sipping whisky after everyone’s left and the two of you have some peace after a long day of chattering and feasting.
“Appa, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”
“Yes, Y/N-ah?”
You pause before answering. Finally, you decide to take the blunt route, knowing that there’s no easy way about this. 
“Come with me to the US for your treatment.”
He sighs. It’s a sigh that sounds almost like a cough, and it makes you wonder how much phlegm is stored in his damaged lungs now. You wonder how you didn’t notice it before.
“Who told you?”
“Eomma.”
“Of course she did.” He sighs again, and looks at you. “Are you asking me or commanding me?” 
“Appa, I’m not your boss. I can’t command you.”
“But you’re my daughter. I know how children feel when they think their parents aren’t listening to them.”
You smile. “I’ve always been stubborn, you know. I’ve got it in my genes.”
“Genes I’m proud of. How much has your mother told you? Did she mention I’m in stage 4 and it’s practically incurable?”
“Yes, and no. There are still chances to cure it, Appa, if only you’ll listen to me.”
“Sweetie-”
“Why aren’t you giving this another chance? I didn’t know you to be a person who easily gives up!” You can feel yourself getting angry, tears pooling in your eyes. It’s stupid how he’s arguing against it, illogical, meaningless. Your heart breaks every time you look at his eyes- they’re old, wrinkled, and yet the fire hasn’t gone out. Does he really want to end it all this fast?
“You know, I get where you’re coming from. But… I don't want to prolong suffering, Y/N-ah. It’s time, I can feel it. There’s no point being a vegetable pushed about in a wheelchair and drinking soup for the rest of my life. There’s no point living if I have to just gobble medicines all day and not drink any more port wine. There’s no point living a life which isn’t even a life, it’s just a laboratory experiment.”
You do burst out crying at this. You want to throttle his neck, and shake him, and ask how could he say such things. 
“Aaah, Y/N-ah! Don’t cry-”
“You’re making me cry, Appa! You didn’t even tell me! Were you just planning to sit on it till it’s too late?”
“It is never too late, Y/N-ah. Appa is always here with you, even if I can’t be here physically.”
The tears don’t stop, he pulls you closer, until you’re wailing on his shoulder, and he hugs you with one arm. 
“It’s not fair,” you mumble in between tears, hiccups interspersed in your words. Then he only rubs your back and you gently quieten down. “I don’t care, Appa. Come to the US with me. I’ve spoken to doctors, they’ve said there are chances to improve.” He smiles wistfully, looking at your face, which is childishly covered in snot and wet tears.
“Appa, you have to promise me you’ll try. For me, please. I’m not ready for this.”
“It will be a waste of time and effort. I would rather you pay attention to your career. And also your marriage.” “There’s not much to pay attention to. Wonwoo and I are busy almost all the time,” you try to dismiss him. “But you are young, and in love. I should believe there’s nothing other than your love life you should pay more attention to.” You sigh. It’s sad, just how well you and Wonwoo have deceived them all, even your most observant father. You wonder how it is possible, given how distant the two of you are- emotionally, always, and physically, recently. “There is something called urgency, Appa. There’s an order to how things need to be done.” 
There’s a few long minutes of silence. Your father finishes the drink in his glass and looks at the stars in the sky. You, for one moment, are sure he’ll put up another fight. “You’ve never asked me anything with so much insistence, Y/N-ah.” “You’ve not hidden anything from me before, either.” There’s another pause. The waiting is tiring, and you’re going to cry again. 
“Alright. I’ll do it, Y/N. But on one condition.” You hang on to his words, waiting for him to continue. “One chance. I’m not going back again if there is a relapse. I will not push my fate to a sour ending. You go back to your life, where I want to see you happy. And I will let nature take its due course.” You dare to smile, too afraid he’s going to take back his words. But then he smiles back, and beckons you to lie down on his lap, as he begins talking about something new he;s recently read, and you’re grateful for the distraction. 
That night when you go home, you find Wonwoo playing in his gaming room. It’s a small room, probably meant to be a spare bedroom, or a kid’s bedroom, but he has an elaborate gaming setup there, and he locks himself up in it every weekend. Sometimes you wonder if he’s dead, but then you hear his cocky, hushed whispers of victory when you lean on the door. He’s always been good at games. 
Today the door is slightly open, and you think for a deluded moment, that he perhaps left it open so that he could hear you enter the house. So you lightly knock and he turns around in his gaming chair. You realise he’s wearing a tank top, his hair hidden under a hideous beanie, and for a second, he doesn’t look like the brooding adult you’re married to. 
“I spoke to Appa tonight.”
He looks up at you and takes off his headphones. He nods once, understanding immediately.
“I’m leaving for New York tomorrow, and I don’t want to delay the appointment.” 
He stares at you for a second, then replies, “When is your flight?” 
“Afternoon.”
“And how long are you going to be away?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps a month, perhaps longer. I don’t want to leave until it’s all done. I want to see it to the end.”
He nods again, standing up from his chair. The screen flashes something about the game being paused, and his character awkwardly bounces about in the game field. The character has black hair and wears glasses like Wonwoo. 
“Pack enough, then. I’ll be here when you come back.”
You nod, and he smiles. This is why you got married in the first place, afterall. You bet he’s glad to get the wheels moving as quickly as possible so that this farce can come down before he’s so tired of it that your mere sight repels you.
_
The next three months pass by like a whirlwind, a miracle from heaven. Because not only are the doctors extremely positive about your father’s condition, but also hopeful for complete treatment. A part of you is too wary of everything going too great, too good to be true, and you’re crying every night when you lie sleepless in your hotel bed. There’s not a single second you’re free from anxiety, and there’s literally nothing else in your mind except praying that every minute of the treatment goes well. You’ve never been so nervous, except when you’d been in college and getting your papers approved by your professors and they’d laughed straight up in your face at your ambitiousness. You get periodic calls from your colleagues, the managers and Jisung, most often. But if there’s a perk of being a CEO, it’s that your employees know when to respect your personal space, unless there’s an absolute emergency. Relatives call you, your sister calls you ever so often. You hope she doesn’t go into labour with your father still stuck on the hospital bed, but it’s only a small part of her worries, you’re sure. So you assure her about everything being alright and encourage to focus on her pregnancy being perfectly smooth, although Kyungmin Oppa tells you that her mood swings are more distinct now with more things to worry about. The baby kicks for the first time, and you wish you could be there. You don’t want to miss a lot of firsts, but it’s a small tradeoff you don’t mind making. 
There’s only one person who doesn’t call you, Wonwoo. He probably knows that you don’t want to be disturbed, but sometimes you have thoughts. Thoughts about how different your life was just a few months ago. Thoughts about how your marriage is due to be annulled as soon as this business ends. Thoughts about whether you should have let Wonwoo ever into your life. Thoughts about how he feels about this entire thing. You know how he’d said he had just wanted to help you, but was it a moment of pity or a calculated decision? Was he actually humane enough to want to do this? You’re unsure, just like you’re unsure about how much you even know him. Sure, you’ve known him for your entire damn life, but not really. 
Firstly, there’s the matter of the wedding. The fact that Wonwoo didn’t actually need to be roped in to convince your dad is a surprising issue. You hadn’t expected Appa to be so pliant to your words and your tears, when he had supposedly protested so much in front of Unnie and Eomma. Well, there perhaps was something called a favourite child. Secondly, there’s the concern of what happens now. It’s already been four months since your wedding, and it’s almost mid-December now. You’re 100% sure that Wonwoo will not be interested to drag on this farce for longer than necessary, so you mentally take notes to draft up divorce letters and take them to him as soon as you return to Seoul. Your PR team’s done a fairly good job in hiding the fact that you and Wonwoo have barely spent any time together since the wedding. So it’s not going to take much to silence the media if they raise eyebrows at such a quick divorce. Family will be easy to convince, as well. We just don’t have enough time for a full-on relationship now. We’re focused on our careers, that’s where our priorities lie. Honestly, this was why we were so hesitant about marriage in the first place. See, we told you, we weren't made for this relationship business. If only you hadn’t practically stalked us into it, we wouldn’t have to disappoint you all like this. 
And what happens after that? 
Do you remain exes who smile at each other at social gatherings? Do you remain fuckbuddies, forgetting about your trash past altogether? Do you become strangers who don’t even bother to remember birthdays? 
You’re feeling dizzy, so you pass out on the couch in your hotel room. 
_
It’s New Years’ Eve when you return to Seoul, and nobody can stop the smile on your face from breaking out every three seconds. Your father’s body may still be weak from chemotherapy, and he may have to visit the hospital every other week to get follow-ups on his treatment, but he’s alive and the spark in his eyes haven’t been snuffed out. There’s hope, infinite hope, and you feel whole again. There’s incredible joy blooming in your heart, even if all the trees are barren and all the world is grey. The doctors say that it is a godsent gift, and there can be a relapse, but the chances are low enough to be confident that there’s going to be at least five more years of happy life for your father. For someone who was praying for five more minutes, it’s a harvest too bountiful, and you feel like a person born again. 
The happiness lasts the entire journey back home, back into the wide waiting arms of your mother who had never gone to the US because she was too scared of being there. You can see how the stress has taken a toll on her, as her figure seems frailer than before, and there’s no longer than glow radiating off her face. And yet, this gift is more than she, or you could ever have asked for, so you take what you can get. Your father’s organs haven’t failed yet, and he can eat better things than soup, so your mother’s cooked specially for him, although she hasn’t entered the kitchen in years. It’s softly cooked galbi and prawn pajeon, and he devours the meal after months of hospital food. You stay the night at your parent’s home, as your sister comes over along with her husband. It’s a great family reunion, and you feel like you could die in this happiness.
Except reality strikes when you wake up the next morning and realise that you should go to your actual home now. You wonder if he’s going to be at home or not, given that it’s the New Year and he may have plans with others. 
But there he is, as you let yourself in through the main door, and he locks eyes with you sitting on the couch, wearing shorts and no shirt, his hair quite wet. Apart from the fact that this is the first time you’ve seen him wear shorts, nothing’s changed. He’s still exactly the same. It’s cold outside, and the journey here has frozen your limbs, but the house is warm as fuck, just how Wonwoo’s always liked it. 
You can’t stop yourself. You don’t stop yourself when you run halfway across the living room and hug him without waiting for him to say anything. 
To his credit, he doesn’t say anything. He simply hugs you back. His body is so warm in spite of being shirtless, and you can smell the fresh soap clinging to his body. He rubs one hand on your spine and for a second you feel tears threatening to flow down your face. Did you miss him?
“How’s your father?” 
“Much better. There is hope.”
You can feel his hands moving more insistently on your back, stretching through all your muscles. It feels comforting in a way you’ve never received from Wonwoo. He doesn’t ask anything else, and you don’t mind. 
“Welcome home, Y/N.”
_
You’re bent over on the floor, unpacking your suitcase in your own room when he casually saunters into his walk-in and you don’t pay heed. It’s only when he walks out wearing a black leather jacket, a turtleneck, a light gold chain dangling on his neck, and fancy sunglasses perched on his nose that you turn around to look at him. You’re shocked at seeing him like this- you realise you haven’t seen him in casuals in so long. You haven’t seen him in so long. 
“You’re going out?”
“Yeah, it is the New Year. I have a party with my friends.”
You’re too busy ogling him, so he asks, “Don’t you have plans?” 
“Yeah, I’m going to unpack my stuff.”
“You could do that tomorrow. Going out with friends on New Years’ will not happen tomorrow.”
You roll your eyes. You assume I have friends. It shouldn’t be news to him, you’ve told him this before. And yet, you feel embarrassed again. You didn’t know Wonwoo had friends, but it’s wrong of you to think every workaholic has no life like you. 
“No. It’s been a tiring few months… I’d rather just sleep in.”
Wonwoo, surprisingly, sits down on your bed, facing you, and removes his sunglasses. You can see his pretty eyes from up close, and you realise that he’s never really sat on this bed since you’ve come to his house. “Do you want to come with me? They’ve been asking about you for quite some time now.” You look at him silently, “Nah, I don’t… don’t want to barge in.” “You won’t be.” “You’ll get late if you wait for me now.” “It’s not a big deal, most of them will be late anyway.” “Are you going to a nightclub?” “No, we’re going to a barbecue party.” 
Small, private, cosy. You’ll definitely be barging in.
“No Wonwoo, I don’t want to go somewhere where I’m not welcome. And anyway, I’m cool with whatever you’ve told your friends about us.” “I haven’t said anything in particular.” “Well, then you’re good at avoiding things.” “I am. You must’ve been away too long if you’ve forgotten about this.” 
You want to run away. He’s surely talking about avoiding being your husband- and he’s proud about it as well. 
“Then you might avoid it further. There’s no need for me to make a public appearance.”
Wonwoo stares at you for a second too long. His jaw hardens, and you can see his tongue in his cheek. Then he gently pulls your hand into his own, and carefully touches your fingers, purposely avoiding the bit around your wedding ring. The way your fingers seem much smaller compared to his makes you feel a certain way. You pull your hand back, but he doesn’t let go. He ends up pulling you up to stand, so that he’s still sitting on the edge of the bed and you’re standing right in front of him. His fingers are still laced around your own, and you feel sparks at the touch after months. 
“I’m going to show my wife off to my friends. And your excuses are pathetic, darling. You know you want me to show you off as well.” His fingers tighten their grip against your wrist, and you feel the vein in your wrist throbbing around his touch. “So get dressed nicely. I know you clean up well.”
It takes you a solid ten minutes to find something good to wear. Sure, you’re not big on fashion, but you like to look fit for the occasion. Especially if Wonwoo’s dressed up all fancily like that. But when you finally step out of the closet, you’re wearing a beige corset top with a black skirt, and a long black coat with tiny gold details. You find Wonwoo still sitting on your bed, scrolling through his phone. “How do I look?” you ask at the same time as he raises his head to look at you. After checking you out twice from top to toe, he nods slowly, but before you can exhale in relief, he says, “Will you feel cold in that skirt?” “No. And before you ask, I’m not wearing stockings. The coat will be enough.” “Don’t complain if you get cold later. Come down in five.” 
_
When you’re finally in the car, you ask him if you should buy something for the host, since it is New Years’ afterall. “If we bought something for him, the others will be mad at us for not buying something for them too.” You laugh it off, wondering how that could be possible, and proceed to stop at a nearby store to buy one of the trendy perfumes that’s popular amongst men these days. 
You find, not even half an hour later, that it is possible. 
“Wonwoongi! You only brought presents for Mingoo? None for hyung? How will hyung survive without your generosity?” A lanky, beautiful man immediately latches himself onto Wonwoo’s arm as soon as you both enter Mingyu’s house. It’s a pretty bungalow situated a little far from the city, and decorated extravagantly with lights. It’s only after Wonwoo makes it through the first few people crowding near the entryway that everybody notices you. 
There’s a collective gasp going around when everyone turns around and looks at you, smiles galore. And then they all start speaking together, and you get overwhelmed. Wonwoo shushes them all in an uncharacteristically loud voice, and announces, “Since y’all wanted to meet her, this is Y/L/N Y/N, my wife,” and you bow deeply to everyone as everyone greets you back. When you stand upright again, you stumble a bit, not having noticed the thick carpet, and Wonwoo’s quick to grab your hand. He casually interlocks his fingers with yours, and you both make your way into the apartment. 
The first man you meet is Mingyu, the host. You’re shocked to see him, not expecting to see him as the host. So he’s the host. He’s become taller than Wonwoo now, his face still identical to what you remember from high school. It sparks an annoyance in you, as scenes from each sports day of your high school years flashes by. There wasn’t a single time when you hadn’t defeated Mingyu in tennis, badminton and squash. You really loved playing racket sports, and it seemed that so did Mingyu. But not just that- Mingyu’s arrogance was even more childish than that of Wonwoo because he was insanely arrogant about his looks and the number of girls (and boys) thirsting over him every day. Although you hardly met him outside school because he didn’t belong to a chaebol family, you’d actively glare at each other every time you met in school. You wonder what version of these same memories flashed in his mind as you stand in front of him now. 
“It’s been a long time, Y/N-ah. Didn’t imagine that you and Wonwoo would end up married.” It’s a genuine smile, and for a moment, you wonder if you’d had the wrong impression about him all along. “We didn’t imagine it either, trust me.” Wonwoo smiles, and it breaks you out of your reverie. You hand Mingyu the gift, and say, “Thank you for extending your invitation to me.” “There’s no need to be so formal, Y/N-ah. But what’s the need for the gift?” “Since I’m visiting you for the first time… as Mrs. Jeon, I felt I shouldn’t come empty-handed.” Mingyu giggles and nudges Wonwoo’s arm, “Mrs Jeon, hmm? Feels like a Hollywood movie. Thanks Y/N, I’ll use it well!”
Then Wonwoo introduces you to the rest of his friend group one by one. You meet Seungcheol, who you remember all too well. “How the tables have turned, huh?” He chuckles, before handing you a glass of wine. There’s a familiarity in his mysterious smile, that twinkling look in his eyes, that elite tilt of his chin, as if he owned the world, which used to annoy the hell out of you, because to you, he seemed to be the stereotype of the worthless chaebol heirs who’d do nothing in their lives except eat out of their parents’ money. And yet, he’s made it big on his own, if news reports are correct, and perhaps you can find some respect for him now. “I hope we get along better this time, Seungcheol Oppa.” He’s the only man from Wonwoo’s high school group who you would call Oppa, and that was only to tease him because he’d been voted as the Sexiest Oppa of the Year at the end of the high school year. Seungcheol seems to remember that too, because he laughs, and you realise it’s a fond memory, no matter how much annoyance it had sparked in you back then. 
Then there’s Jeonghan, who’d been that beautiful man who’d spoken to Wonwoo earlier with that aegyo nickname of Wonwoongie. who disarms you instantly with his jokes. Joshua, who’s introduced as the gentleman, but you can see the mischief in his doe-like eyes, much too good-looking for his own good. There’s Soonyoung and Seokmin, who are already playing beer pong, laughing and spilling a lot of the beer on the table (and the carpet, but they implore you to not tell Mingyu that). Seungkwan referees them, while he’s wrapped around his boyfriend, who’s extremely charming and interesting. Vernon and you speak for a good two minutes before Seungkwan interrupts you both and takes you to meet Jun. Jun is sitting on the other side of the room, with his girlfriend, Lihua. She’s also Chinese but speaks fluent Korean, as she’s a teacher in Seoul, as she explains.You find out that Jun is an actor in both Korean and Chinese tv shows, and his visuals explain a lot of it, for sure. Then there’s Minghao, who’s busy discussing Met Gala looks over the years with two women, Soyeon (Jihoon’s fiance) and Aeri (Chan’s girlfriend). Chan and Jihoon themselves are missing, but soon you find them in the kitchen, helping Mingyu and his fiance, Hayi, to make cocktails. 
And when the introductions finally end, Wonwoo and you flop down on a couch in one corner, both tired from all that smiling and small talk. 
“Are you sighing so loudly because they’re not nice?” He teases you, as he place an arm around the head of the sofa, successfully cradling you without even touching your body. “Wonwoo. I didn’t know you were still close to Seungcheol and Mingyu.” “Hmm… should I have warned you before bringing you here?” You turn your face away from him, “A warning would have been nice. I wasn’t really ready to see Mingyu’s annoying smile again after all those years of his delinquency.” Wonwoo laughs, and you continue, “But I’m curious. What did you tell them about me that they’re welcoming me with open arms? Did you tell them that I’ve completely changed or something?” “No. They had their reservations too, but it’s not like they could do anything. I told them only a day before we got married.” You open your mouth to refute, but quickly become silent. Not for the first time, you wonder, how had Wonwoo adapted into the marriage so quickly in spite of having nothing to gain and everything to lose. It reminds you of the divorce papers you had asked Jisung to prepare, so you don’t say anything.
Jeonghan comes and sits on your other side too. “Oh, we have another person joining our lazy line, I see.” He giggles as you look confused. “Wonwoo, Hao and I are the lazy line. We run out of battery first. We can’t keep up with the other over-energetic boy.” “But the absolute first is Wonwoo, of course. There’s no end to group photos where he’s yawning in all the shots.” Minghao strolls in, grabs Wonwoo by the arm, calling him to the other room where they’re all playing billiards, and then it’s just you and Jeonghan on the sofa. 
“So, Y/N, I hear that you and Wonwoo have been friends since school?” You laugh, because he can’t have heard that. You know Jeonghan knows you both have never really been friends. He laughs too, and you realise how easily he’s prodded right into the truth. “It’s complicated,” you say safely, as you get a feeling you can’t hide from this man. “And yet I think you’re perfectly fit to be Mrs Jeon, from what I hear.” You laugh again, because genuinely it is a funny statement. You think he’s making a joke- probably about how you both hated each other’s guts in school, or had an equal temper. But no, he’s all serious and he repeats his statement with more sincerity. You twist your lips in confusion, and ask him, “How can you say that?” “Because I know Wonwoo very well. That’s it.” He then laughs a bit and continues, “They call me the Eomma of the group for a reason, you know. They’re all my kids. Even Cheol and Shua.”
And then Wonwoo calls you both to the barbecue which had begun on the outdoor patio. 
_
The party may have begun awkwardly for you but it soon becomes quite exciting. The temperature continues to fall as it becomes darker in the night sky, but everyone’s gathered around the barbecue grill outside so you don’t want to move. The girls are mostly sitting together, sitting cocktails that Mingyu prepares for you, winking every way until he reaches his fiance who exaggeratedly winks back. You sit sandwiched between Aeri and Wonwoo, and while Wonwoo is busy discussing games with Seungcheol, Aeri doesn’t let you feel isolated. You’re included into the group surprisingly quickly, and soon you’re playing drinking games with them. Games you’ve never played before, so you’re obviously totally incapable at defeating them. They seem to play these every other weekend, while you’ve never even heard of these game rules. The reality sends pangs to your heart because it hits harder than ever that you’ve never had a friend group with who you could drink with. Not even a casual drink. Not even a girls’ night out. Not even a pole dance at a strip club. 
“Okay! Let’s play the hongsam game,” Seungkwan shouts out and immediately everyone cheers in agreement. You must be looking confused as hell, because Jihoon quietly leans in to explain the rules simply. Seungkwan and Jihoon show you a small demo, and you nod. You may not have understood fully but you don’t want to hold up others in the game. And so the game goes on for nineteen rounds, and you lose ten of them. You somehow miss the timing every time, or maybe you just don’t know their names well enough. Even Joshua, who messed up the first three times, seems to have caught on, but you’re just stuck. Although they make you feel better about it, laughing with you instead of at you, and reassuring you that it’s okay to make mistakes, you feel embarrassed. It’s not a tough game, just requires hand-eye-brain coordination that you’re sure you’re not lacking in, but perhaps some part of you wants to do better because it’s Wonwoo’s friends you’re playing with, and performing poorly here would mean… well, you don’t know what it would mean, but it doesn’t sit right with you. So you try to be more competitive, and although you keep losing, as the shots go in, it feels less stressful and more fun. You become more familiar with the games, and the S.coups game you’re actually good at, although you have no idea why it’s called the S.coups game and Seungcheol personally makes it a point to threaten anyone who’s about to tell you why it’s called the S.coups game. 
And so, as the night goes by, you become more comfortable. Even if it is still a little awkward, it’s not altogether bad. Mingyu and Seungcheol are being nice to you, although a bit wary. The others have positively welcomed you with open arms. And Wonwoo, well, he’s being a little odd. He’s having a hell lot of fun, being much louder than you’ve ever seen him. He seems more reserved than his friends, but then, his friends are too hyper. And while he doesn’t make direct efforts to talk to you, he’s becoming more touchy by the minute. The first few shots in, he was just putting an arm around your shoulders. Next few shots in, his hands are properly rubbing all over your bare arms as he makes you open the coat when you say your body’s getting warm with all the soju. When you feel the buzz of alcohol getting more serious by the second, his right hand, the same one which had held your hand earlier that day, places itself on your thigh and refuses to move. It’s splayed all over your thigh, nearly covering from end to end, and there’s not much skin showing anyway, but with his hand, it feels like you should’ve worn a shorter skirt. 
Wonwoo’s favourite game is the mafia one. The game app somehow generates him to be mafia three out of four times, and he has way too much fun killing the innocent citizens who seem to be completely deceived by him. Wonwoo’s too good at lying, you realise, when you’re taken aback each time on finding out he’s the mafia although you’re sitting right next to him. The fifth round, you both are mafias, and after the penultimate round of guessing, when you two are the only mafias left alive and you lock eyes to decide who to kill, you giggle at the way he’s staring you down. 
“I say, Soyeon. She’s the closest to guessing me out.” You say seriously, but his eyes aren’t even on your eyes. They’re fixed lower, at your lips, but you panic and shift away from him. Now his eyes look up at yours, confused, but you’re guessing he’s just drunk. He would never behave like this if he were sober. 
“I say let’s get out of here. While their eyes are still closed.” He smirks, whispering hotly in front of your face, and you feel red all over. 
“Wonwoo! They’re your friends.” “So what? They love you already. They wouldn’t be mad at you for leaving, if that’s what you’re thinking.” “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re having so much fun, why would you want to leave?” “Because I know I could have more fun with you with my face under that skirt of yours.” You’re blushing again. “You don’t want to know the number of times I’ve left fun gatherings like this to fuck you in my car, sweetheart. This time, at least, they’ll understand better.” You blush even harder, with the way he’s speaking. It’s making your heart beat too loudly. You know it’s because you both are drunk, but you’ve never been able to resist it when he talks dirty to you. And now his hand starts squeezing your thigh, so you’re left wondering what it would feel like if his face was under your sk-
“Oh for fucks sake! I know it’s Wonwoo and Y/N with all this whispering, I’m sitting next to y’all, guys!” Aeri whines from next to you, and the moment is broken. Everyone opens their eyes and Wonwoo’s hand stop squeezing, although it’s still on your thigh. “If you’re going to undress each other, just go home!” Chan says, and you laugh. “I’m not leaving the party even if Wonwoo does, just so you know. I’m having way too much fun.” Aeri and Hayi hug you from one end, pulling you away from Wonwoo. “Yes,” says Hayi, “we’re not letting you go either. Boring mafia men can leave if they like.” So they pull you away from Wonwoo and you end up sitting somewhere far away from him, between Joshua and Minghao, and it’s nice to be around people who aren’t game aces either and you can have a lot more fun because they’re not as serious as Wonwoo.
A few seconds later, your phone buzzes in your pocket, so you take it out. There’s a text from Wonwoo. 
I wasn’t kidding, Y/N. I really want to get out of here with you.
_
Twenty minutes later, you’ve bid the last round of goodbyes, hugging Jeonghan and exchanging numbers with most of them, while they whine about why Wonwoo gatekept you for so long. Even Seungcheol and Mingyu joke around you, showing that they’ve become more comfortable around you. Perhaps growing up has taken away some of their jerk attitude from them. 
Wonwoo’s already leaning against his car when you walk out of the house. You know he’s drunk with the way his eyes check you out without any filter, and you’re also drunk and out of your inhibitions. You try not to get into your head as he opens the door for you, and you get inside the warm car. Wonwoo joins you in the backseat, and the chauffeur drives you out slowly. 
But somehow, being in the car now, away from the dopamine of the party, and the general excitement from having a surprisingly fun evening with strangers, the overthinking does kick in. Wonwoo doesn’t say a word, but his hand has returned on your thigh, and you let it be there. But you can’t help but think, is he finding you attractive only because he’s under the influence? 
So you ask him that, when you both get out of the car and he opens the door to the apartment. Drunk, dishevelled Wonwoo looks glorious in the night light, his dark hair falling over his eyes, which are hooded in desire as plain as day. “Are you fucking serious, woman?” That’s all he says, before he pushes you against the back of the same entry door, and puts his hand under your skirt. He finds you panties as an obstruction so he pushes them aside before kissing you and entering one finger inside your cunt simultaneously. You immediately melt under his touch, not just because it’s been months since Wonwoo’s touched you, but also because you’re feeling so relieved he’s still attracted to you. At least the farce hasn’t repelled him away this far. 
So you don’t speak any words. You both stay silent except the sounds he forces out of you. You come embarrassingly fast with just two fingers up your vagina, and his mouth creating hickeys all over your neck. “Fuck, Wonwoo, I-” “Shit you’re still coming- your whore pussy’s thanking Sir for taking care of her after so long?” You moan his name harder, your entire body writhing under his touch as he drags out your climax under his touch. “Yes, Sir.” “And what to good girls say in gratitude?” You can barely form the words but you say it, “Thank- thank you, Sir!”
“Where do you wanna take it, hmm? To my bedroom which you’ve taken over? Or my bedroom where you’ve exiled me to?” He picks you up and shrugs off your coat, and you wrap your legs around him, stretching the skirt. “It doesn’t matter.”
So he takes you to the bedroom where he’s sleeping these days. He flunks you on the bed, and you tumble to fall on your face. The sheets smell like him, and you breathe in his scent. You don’t want to sleep anywhere else after this- only next to him, if this is what his bed smells like. 
He leans in from behind you, and unhooks your top and skirt, leaving you in your underwear. Your panties are ruined, so he makes quick work of removing them. But he keeps the bra on, and gently slides in under you until your pussy is on his face as he prepares to eat you out from behind. His hands are splayed over your ass, and as soon as his tongue makes contact with your already abused vagina, you scream out his name. But he doesn’t stop- he continues, his tongue harshly fucking your cunt. When he’s done making you orgasm again like that, and you’re done screaming his name into his pillow, he finally moves away from you. You fall limp on the bed, as you hear him take off his clothes. Eventually he cages you from behind, and slowly fills you up from behind, one hand on your neck and the other rubbing your nipple over your bra. 
So he fucks you like that, his cold chain makes sparks every time it brushes against your spine. “Sir, please! Faster, please-” Wonwoo doesn’t reply to any of your begging, but he responds physically to everything you say, by doing the exact opposite and dragging out your misery. His hands don’t leave your nipples as he leisurely fucks you. “Fuck, Y/N, not even four months, and you’re tight like a virgin again.” Your hands slip and weakly try to clutch at the bedsheets, but you feel useless, like a toy, and he feels every inch of skin which he’s missed out on all this time. You don’t know what he’s looking like now, but his hand presses your head down on the pillow softly, and his grunts and moans are soft enough to be enveloped by your own louder moans and pants.
“Please, I’m begging you, please- pl- faster- Sir!” And the second he lifts his body away from yours, thrusting into you faster, you spasm and orgasm right there, and it triggers his orgasm too. The warmth of his cum flowing inside you stays there as he gently falls down on your body, panting. When he begins to pull out, you whine, unable to say anything but he gets the message. He lies down next to you softly, without pulling out for a few minutes. When your body finally comes down from the high, you go limp around his body, and Wonwoo gently pulls out. 
“I’ll clean you up.” “I’m sleepy…” “Yeah, then sleep.” And then you pass out.
_
When you wake up the next morning, Wonwoo is, unsurprisingly, not next to you, although his side of the bed is not cold. It feels like an upgrade, and you take what you can get. For the first time since you’ve gotten married, you’ve slept together and the thought of it makes you pleased for some reason. 
“Morning,” he walks in, before you can properly wake up. He’s wearing a peach-coloured hoodie with sweatpants, a cup of coffee in his hand. “Is that for me?” “No, I didn’t know if you were up.” “Okay, I’ll go and get my own.”
So you do. You brush your teeth and make your coffee and return to the bedroom, and Wonwoo’s still sitting there, his back leaning against the headboard. For a second, you feel like you’re stepping into someone else’s married life, but then you realise it’s yours. It makes you giddy. You don’t understand why- it’s not like you’ve ever craved for Wonwoo, or anyone, in this way. But somehow, you’ve warmed up well to the idea of having him as your … partner. There’s nobody who could be an equal match to you, to be honest. Either they’d be seriously less intelligent and you would be able to hold no conversation with them, or they’d be arrogant as fuck if they were smarter than you, and they’d make it a point to make you feel lesser, always. So Wonwoo is the perfect match for you. 
Although, Wonwoo could surely find someone better. Jeonghan’s words float in your brain once again, and you fight the urge to contradict him. Mrs Jeon could definitely be someone else- someone who’s less distant from Wonwoo, someone he could love truly deeper than just skin-level attraction, someone who would want to be with him for real feelings and not just a facade.
“There’s something I want to talk to you about, Wonwoo.” 
“Yeah, me too.” You both sit against the headboard, bodies far apart, as if repelled again by magnetic force, no matter how close you were last night. 
“Okay, you go first then.”
So he says, “Last night was… a mistake. I know it sounds cliche, but it’s true. I don’t… want to do this with you.”
Oh fuck. You did not see that coming. Sure, the relationship could have been a mistake. Getting married without him getting anything out of it could have been a mistake. Continuing this marriage after your dad’s treatment was successful could have been a mistake. But last night? Last night had felt so right to you. There was no one who knew your body like Wonwoo did, and you knew it went the other way round too. Then how could he say that?
He continues, “I don’t want to be fuckbuddies with you like this, Y/N. We got married for a goal, and now that goal’s been fulfilled and…”
“And you want a divorce. I get it.” 
He looks at you with confusion, his eyes wide and his eyebrows furrowed. “No, that’s not what I said.” 
“That’s what you meant. I’m an adult, Wonwoo, don’t teach me nuances.” You get off the bed and walk away. 
“Y/N, you’ve got to hear me out when I’m saying something.”
“Wonwoo, I already know what you’re trying to say.” 
“Fuck you, Y/N. This is why it’s not possible to have a proper conversation with you.”
“You’ll get what you want, Wonwoo. Don’t worry. Thanks for telling me, I needed to know.”
_
It feels good to get back to work after so long. The familiar sound of people typing away on their laptops and the busy movement of people everywhere, it brings peace to your heart. There are people hovering around you, hoping to speak to you, but Jisung somehow brings you to your office without you having to say anything more than good morning and happy new year to anyone. 
It’s only when you enter the office and you see the pending paperwork that you realise just how much you’ve missed. There’s a deal with Lee Corp. that’s sitting on your desk, and Jisung presents it to you with a proud smile. “We got it done, Ma’am. Every detail you wanted, to the t.” You don’t know how to respond, because it’s unbelievable. “But how?” This is your dream- signing a contract with Lee Corp., the leading organisation for facilitating stools for robotic surgery in Korea. Although your technology has always been more modern, they’ve retained their large market share because of simply how long they’ve sustained in the business- after all, when it comes to health, trust comes before modernity for customers. 
“Jeon Wonwoo-ssi set up the deal for us. The Deputy CEO and myself attended the meeting, I can share the minutes with-”
“Wait, stop. Wonwoo, you said?” 
“Yes Ma’am, I… did he not tell you? He told me he’d tell you.” Jisung looks genuinely confused, so you know it’s futile to investigate him further. 
“Well, as you can see, it’s news to me.”
“There is a meeting today, at noon, Ma’am, I need to brief you about the details before you-” 
“I’ll get the details directly from Wonwoo, thanks Jisung. Ask my chauffeur to get my car ready please. I’ll be back before the meeting.”
_
Wonwoo’s office building is bustling with the same energy as your own, and you face no trouble finding his office. So you walk right in. 
“What’s this I’m hearing?” He’s standing next to a shorter man showing him something on a tablet, but he immediately leaves when he sees you, bowing quickly. “I was busy, Y/N, you can’t just walk in like that as if you own the place.” He walks up to you, and gently closes the door, before leaning against it and asking you, in that fucking relaxed expression he always has, “What’s the matter?” 
“You fixed a deal with Lee Corp. for my company?” 
“What about it?” 
“And you didn’t bother to tell me?”
“I thought it was best not to disturb you when you were busy with your father.”
Your eyes widen in disbelief. “Wonwoo, this is literally the most important event that can turn my career around forever, and you choose not to tell me-”
“So you’d rather I invade your privacy for this? I’d arranged it so that it would be closed only after your return anyway, so it’s not like-”
“It’s exactly like you were making deals behind my back! God knows what subscript you’ve mentioned in the clauses with the Lees- yeah, step one: get into a trusting contract with Y/N, step two: slowly overtake all her market power, step three: make the company so weak that Jeon Estates can easily take over.” 
You’ve taken a step closer with every word, and now you’re standing at a hair’s distance from Wonwoo, who’s just staring at you. “For god’s sake, Jeon Wonwoo, say something!” 
And then, he fucking laughs. It’s a bitter laugh, one with no mirth, and it makes goosebumps rise on your flesh. 
“You’re mad, Y/N. You’re paranoid, stupid, ungrateful, selfish little bitch, and I can’t even be mad at you because I knew this is how you’ve been all along and yet, I can’t fucking stop myself from falling in love with you every damn day!” 
It’s your turn to go speechless. The documents in your hands fall limply to the floor, as your jaw opens and you stay rooted in one spot, stunned beyond belief. “You… what?”
“You were so fucking right every time you called me a dumbass, Y/N. Because I am one.” He laughs again, taking off his glasses with one hand, and rubbing his eyes with another. Then he stops laughing and when he wears his glasses again, his face looks twenty years older. 
“Wonwoo… I’m not understanding.”
“You will never understand. Because you don’t have a fucking heart. One would think I have a masochism kink- the way you kick me out every day and I come back to you like a dog. Have you ever thought that maybe I don’t want to take over your company? I’ve told you before- I have enough ways and means to bring you down already had I really wanted to. For fucks’ sake, it’d take a minute for me to destroy your reputation by spreading a rumour about how you wanted to bang me just because you thought it was a great way to get your dad to get into treatment.”
“You still could-”
“I’ve never taken advantage of you- never. I’ve respected you, with as much as I could. When you’ve been petty, when you’ve been oversmart, when you’ve been angry. And you think I’m really interested in destroying you? No, Y/N, if there’s anything I feel towards you and your professional career, it’s admiration. And respect.”
“Don’t lie to my face, Jeon.”
He laughs again, and kneels down so that he’s looking away from you, down at the floor, his body no longer held up in his usual manly stature. 
“I’m so tired of running around and playing these games with you, Y/N. I’ve admired you since you’d been promoted two classes at once in ninth grade.”
“That is a lie. You’d gone right after that class to bitch about me, very loudly, to your friends, about how I’d been promoted only because my dad’s business was flourishing.” 
“It was a front, because all of my friends, and mind you, I don’t mean Mingyu and Seungcheol, had become pissed at you for it. I had to… I don’t know… be popular? I couldn’t be any more of a loser than I already was. I’d lost a year as it is for breaking my leg and not being able to attend classes, and then… owning up that your intelligence and intellect amazed me and got me on my fucking knees would mean I’d no longer be the cool boy in class who everybody wanted to be with.” 
You kneel down next to him, imploring him to look into your eyes. But he steadfastly avoids eye contact- and you feel the floor slip away from your feet. Things you’d believed for years… hearing them become untrue… hearing them being simple misunderstandings… it was too frightening and too overwhelming to be believable. 
“But there’s not been a moment these last dozen years when I’ve not had my heart beat fast whenever I think about you… see you. I’d accepted your harsh words and your cold attitude as the norm because… I knew it was because I’d not behaved very nicely with you either, and I was to be blamed for it after all. But I took what I could get. A beggar cannot be a chooser, you know?” 
And he finally looks at you. 
And finally you can read Jeon Wonwoo. Every expression is as clear as day on his face. His eyes clouded with betrayal and pain, his lips twitching, seconds away from breaking down, his hands pale and trembling. You want to walk away, be a coward again, run away and escape to your bubble of yourself and only yourself. But you also want to take his hand, and feel the truth he’s speaking coursing through his veins buzz out into your own skin.
So you do that. 
For once in twenty six years, you do the brave thing. 
You sit down completely on the floor, and you lean forward to face him, and touch the tips of his fingers. You’re surrounded by the flurry of papers you’d brought to him, but in this moment, when the current of his touch matches the voltage running in your mind, you forget what they were. He looks away, and says, “Everything about you was so electrifying. You were the first woman who had never pedestalized me for my money and my position in society. The first woman who’d made me feel like just another human being. The first woman who I’d been unable to seduce with just a casual look. The first woman who threw a challenge at me with not just her attitude but also her smartness. And boy, you know how competitive I can be.”
“I was okay with being fuckbuddies too, you know. This way, I didn’t have to pine over you from a corner of the room at social gatherings and wonder how you smelt. I didn’t have to look at you from the other side of the cafeteria at school and imagine how it would feel to kiss the cream off the corner of your lips. And I fucking loved it. I loved being able to hold you close, make you mine. I- well… the first night you’d hooked up with me? If you’d not come back to me yourself, I would have begged you and confessed that very night. I would have cried at your feet to let me be your lover.”
There’s a single tear falling off his cheek and onto the point where your fingers touch. He doesn’t look at you. The sky outside darkens with the impending rain, making the room infinitely darker than it was earlier. 
“And then… when you’d asked me to stop… the world had broken down on me. I’d given up on making you want to like me- but,” and he laughs again, that broken, mirthless laugh, “a man can dream, can he not?”
“Wonwoo, I’m sorry.” you whisper. You know it’s pointless, but you still want to say it.
“For what Y/N? You’ve done nothing wrong. You’ve just shown me my place.”
“For hurting you. I didn’t know…”
“No you… you didn’t even know you were hurting me. You were just being you.”
“And it’s sick that I hurt you so much when I was just being myself.” 
There’s a long minute of silence, as he looks up at you. Lightning cracks on the horizon outside, your body shivering with the sudden sound of thunder, and his hands withdraw from your own.
“Y/N, I don’t want to interfere in your life any longer. I’ve lived happily this last year, being so close to you, even when I knew it wasn’t in the way I wanted. But last night…”
“Wonwoo. I-”
“It was a mistake because I can’t do this so casually anymore, Y/N. I don’t want to wake up next to you just like that, Y/N. I don’t want to be married to you on paper, Y/N. I don’t want to pretend in front of my friends and not make you mine in public. Seungcheol and Mingyu accepted you fully… because they knew just how smitten I’ve been with you forever.” The edge of his lips tilt upward in a lopsided, winsome smile, as he continues, “That day in the amusement park? You’d been so mad at me for no fault of mine at all, but you’d been so cute when you’d lolled all over my shoulder and clutched onto my clothes for your dear life. That time you’d made your first speech as your father’s heir to the company, I swear I could’ve run to you and kissed you right there, you’d been so hot up on stage, in the spotlight, right where you belong.”
He starts standing up, looking away from you. He begins picking up the first paper next to him. 
“Oh, you bought the divorce papers.” 
You spring up to attention at once, and snatch it away from him. “Wonwoo, I-”
“No, thanks for bringing them. Thank you for putting me out of my misery of this awful mirage called hope.”
“No, please, I-”
“I see you’ve already signed-” 
“Wonwoo! Just please listen to me?”
He finally pauses in his tracks and looks at you. “You’ve said enough, Y/N-ah. You’ll get the divorce you so want. And if you like, I’ll ask Jihoon to put in a word to take away the deal as well. If you feel so threatened-”
“Wonwoo, hold up. Jihoon?”
“Yeah? You didn’t know? His cousin is the CEO of Lee Corp. currently.”
He picks up a pen to sign, and you literally lunge yourself on his body. It’s cinematic, a little unreal, but you do it out of desperation. It results in you being draped all over his body, as he falls back on his desk. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Shut up. Let me talk,” and you clamp a hand on his mouth before he can say another word. You take a deep breath, as his eyes widen for a second, but then he stabilises himself on his desk and waits for you to continue. 
“I’ll admit it, I’ve been an awful person. I’ve been mean, selfish, and paranoid- and yes, while I may have been justified to some extent, I … should’ve trusted you. It’s absurd though- had I not trusted you at all, how could I ever submit to you even in sex? How could I trust you with my body at my weakest, most out-of-control moments? Perhaps, deep down, I knew that, no matter how much we sparred with our words and our eyes, we… you would never harm me. And I think you know I wouldn’t have harmed you either, really. Because you’ve been nothing if not my twin spirit. You’ve been the only person competitive enough to challenge me. You’ve been the only man who hasn’t given me up even when I threw tantrums. And I want to stop talking in the past tense. Even in the future, I see… I see you as the only man who’d ever really understand me. If I tell you I need a week to just cut off from the world and focus on my work, you’d understand me. If I tell you, Wonwoo, I… well fuck it, I didn’t even need to tell you that I don’t like being lonely every New Years’ Eve, did I? You agreed to be my ally when our families turned against us. You agreed to be my husband when I hadn’t even asked you about it. You’ve… you’ve shown me that a world beyond me exists, you’ve shown me that I’m not the only person in this world I can care about, and you’ve shown me that you don’t need to be loud and obvious when you want to do things for others. And I haven’t even shown gratitude for it. So you’re right when you call me a paranoid, stupid, ungrateful, selfish little bitch.” He shakes his head, but you only laugh a little. “No you’re right. You are. Wonwoo, I… these last few weeks. When I was away, with my dad? I didn’t think it was love but… I did think it was longing. I didn’t even know when I’d gotten used to not living alone at home. I didn’t even know when I’d developed the habit of waiting till 10 pm to see you enter the house after working out, sweaty and your muscles bulging. I’d told you I had become dependent on you as a way to relieve my stress? Well, turns out now I’ve become dependent on you for attention, for affection, for a way to cure my loneliness. I am a paranoid, stupid, ungrateful, selfish little bitch because I’ve been so lonely for years. Apart from my parents and my sister, I… I’ve never had anyone else. And I thought it was  a strength of mine … until I grew up and realised just how lonely I had become. And then… I found you, I guess? Even when we just had sex, it was better than spending all those nights alone, drinking on my own. Even when you’d tie me up to your bedpost for hours on that stupid yellow vibrator of yours, it was more intimate than anything else, and simply because… you even read my face and understood when I was reaching my boundaries. And I’m having all these epiphanies right now, and I feel like a fool for priding myself on my smartness, because truly, what have I gained if I’ve lost you?”
And then, he wrings his hands free and leans over you, and kisses you. Kisses you with his mouth open, his eyes on yours as he gauges your expressions turn from surprise, to wonder, to thrill. When he’s finally kissed you out of breath, you pull away from him to breathe in and feel alive again, only to find that the roles have switched and he’s got you pinned against his desk now. 
“Baby, if only… if only I’d known, that your pretty mind was having so many epiphanies, I’d have not left you on the bed alone in the morning. Tell me you don’t really want the divorce, tell me what you said right now was not a joke?”
“It’s not… I don’t want a divorce, please Wonwoo. I had only got them prepared because I thought you’d want them- but…” 
“Well, I deserve to be treated like a shithead for not making you feel just how badly I want to hold on to this marriage. Because even if it is fake…”
“Wonwoo, shh… it’s not fake if I love you, right?” You say, experimentally, hoping you’re doing the right thing now by being brave, and when he doesn’t reply for a second, your brain goes on a spiral again, but then he must know it because he kisses you again. “Say that again, princess.” So you do. He asks you three more times, and each time, he punctuates his sentences with kisses on your face, and you blush harder each time you admit that yes, you have fallen in love with Jeon Wonwoo. The last person you’d expect to fall for… but it’s true, and it’s real, and it’s warm and novel with how it’s coursing through your veins. 
“I love you too, Y/N, if you’ll really have me.” So you kiss him back, your tongues lazily sliding against each other, the sensation making you numb. It feels good to kiss Wonwoo, but it feels even better to kiss your lover Wonwoo, you realise, and you go back for a million more kisses, before the grandfather’s clock in his room rings out and reminds you that it is noon. 
“Wonwoo… Fuck! I’d forgotten,” you whisper as he kisses you down your neck, lavishing every inch of your skin. “The meeting with the Lees!” “Oh.” He looks up at you. “I’ll call Jihoon and ask him to reschedule. Can’t let work get in the way of pleasure, right now, Mrs. Jeon. Not when I can finally make love to you like you’re mine.” You giggle at his words, unimaginably corny. But you can’t deny how good it makes you feel. “Wait, who said I’m yours?” “Fuck, don’t mess with me, woman. You- you just said!” “I am, relax! It’s a joke, Mr. Jeon. I see your cheesiness has changed now… but your sense of humour is just as poor as before.” He snarls against your lips, although it’s sexy in a way. “I’ll not let you go for comments like that, you know?”
_
So he doesn’t. He calls Jihoon and reschedules the meeting, and then he drives you home, in his car. He’s sitting in the driver’s seat, his hand wrapped in yours, as he pauses at every red light to kiss you. “I still can't believe it.” “You’ve got me here, Jeon. I’m not going away.” You can see the way his hands tremble, but you hold on tight. You’re telling him as much as you’re telling yourself, you’re never going away. 
It’s still raining outside, but he covers your head with his blazer as he picks you up and carries you all the way upstairs to his apartment, doesn’t even lower you in the elevator. Thankfully there’s only an ahjumma inside the elevator, who doesn’t seem to mind, only giggles when you apologise. “It’s okay. I know how lovesick men can be,” she says, before she gets down at her designated floor. 
And then he doesn’t stop kissing you. He doesn’t leave your mouth even when the elevator door opens and you both walk out into your apartment. He doesn’t leave your mouth when you shrug off your heels and he takes off his own shoes. He doesn’t leave your mouth when he directly takes you all the way to the master bedroom, and just plops you down on the bed, you nearly springing up with the impact. 
“Wonwoo?” You ask when he turns away and walks into the closet, only to return with a box that’s too familiar to you. It has all your toys in it. “Do you know, Mrs. Jeon, just how cruel you’ve been by forcing me to see these every time I open the drawer to take out my underwear? He opens it slowly, showing you the three dildos inside, and the bullet vibrator Wonwoo himself had bought for you. “Every time I see them, it feels like you’re cheating on me, because fuck, how can anything give you pleasure when I literally exist?” His words are cheesy again, but in that dirty way which is so on brand for him. You’re leaking under the suit pants already, you know that. 
“Wonwoo… I… you know I don’t use them when you’re around.”
“And you shouldn’t have to use them ever. Not when I’m here to fuck you good like you deserve, like the cumslut you are, hmm?” He presses a finger under your chin, taking in a good look at you from above, before he orders, “Strip.”
So you do. He takes his sweet time watching you strip, while taking out one dildo from your box and his favourite ties. When you’re down to your underwear, he pauses you and extends a hand waiting for something. You know what’s coming, so you just extend your hands to him and let him tie you up. He smirks at your gesture, so he ties you up the poles of the bed. He also uses another tie to wrap around your eyes, and then he gently peels off your panties. “God, fuck. You smell heavenly.” Did he just sniff your underwear? “Wonwoo! Don’t!” There’s a sharp spank on your pussy, exposed to him in its wet glory, and you crumble instantly. “Little baby girls don’t tell Sir what to do and what not to do, hmm? They just take it as they’re given.” So he spanks you again, and it sends shivers through your body. Just the thought of fucking in the broad daylight seems like a sin, but then… isn’t this what married couples do?
You realise that Wonwoo’s seated himself next to you, and he’s gently taken your head into his lap. His hand is already playing with your clit, and you feel something cold and liquidy being rubbed over your pussy flesh. Lube? He’s still fully dressed, and you can feel the cold metal of his watch graze against your sensitive thigh, making you hiss in pleasure. 
“It’s been far too long since you’ve been taught a lesson, darling. Seems like getting married has made you feel like you’re beyond Sir’s control. But that’s not how it goes, is it?” You whisper out, “No… No Sir.” “Good girl. If you want to be treated like you’re married, then you’ve gotta earn it, yes? Now. Can you take one finger?” He inserts his finger gently, which is coated in the cold substance you’re assuming is lube. It isn’t really necessary, given how wet you are already, but it feels hotter when the lube is so cold inside you. 
You nod. “Words.” “Yes, I can.” So he slowly pumps it in, before saying, “Can you take two fingers?” You whimper as he stretches you by putting in two fingers. “Yes Sir.” “That’s a good girl.” The praise is making your head spin.
“And can you take-” he puts in another damn finger, “three fingers?” Now it’s a real burn. It’s in till his knuckles all too quickly but you can’t say no because you want to please. “Quick, princess. Don’t keep me waiting. Yes or n-” “Yes! I can. I will. I’m a good girl, Sir?” He pumps all three fingers deep until it hits your spot, and you scream out his name. “Such a good girl. Now fuck yourself on those fingers thinking that’s Sir’s cock.” 
You push up your hips, and he thrusts in, meeting your halfway. And then he sets the pace, as he fucks into you relentlessly, his other hand gently wrapping around your jaw and you take out your tongue, almost drooling, until he puts a finger inside your mouth too. You just know he’s smirking right now, with you being desperate for something in your mouth too, but you can’t care less. 
Your orgasm hits you as soon as he orders gently, “Cum for me, pretty baby.” But when you come down from your high, he doesn’t take his fingers out. He gently pumps in your cum into your system again, and you writhe with sensitivity. But he uses his other hand to stop you, as he takes it out of your mouth. “Now, can you take a dildo along with these fingers?” You gasp, because it’s not imaginable. “No, I… it’s too much, Sir.” “Is it? I don’t think it’s bigger than your husband’s dick, is it?” And fuck, you can’t stop yourself from clenching at that. It’s crazy how hot he makes it sound, but it feels amazing when he calls himself your husband. And he must feel your cunt clenching around his fingers as well, because he whispers near your ear, “Oh Mrs Jeon likes that, huh? Too bad she can’t take her husband’s cock then, because it’s too much-” “No I can take it! I can- I can fit in my husband’s cock.” You can hear the way Wonwoo grunts, as he plunges his fingers deeper into your cunt. “But first, I’ve got to train you, yes? You’ve become too unruly. You want to be the perfect wife, don’t you?” “Fuck!” you can’t form words as you clench around his fingers hopelessly, overstimulation forgotten, and buck up your hips to help him reach your spot. He just laughs and begins fucking you again, all three of his thick fingers snugly fit inside you till the knuckles. 
“Can you feel my wedding ring inside, baby?” He whispers again, and you cry out his name continuously as he drives you to a new high, so familiar, and yet so new. He’s your husband now, fuck. It’s a revelation that hits harder in the middle of sex, and you come instantly, coating his fingers with your essence. 
“Oh, my cockslut’s eager to please her husband, is she? So eager to be the perfect wife, is she?” 
“Yes, yes! Please- pl- I just want-”
“Want?”
“Please fuck me Wonwoo!”
He immediately removes his fingers from your pussy and you scream out as you feel empty. “Aaah! Please!” 
“I’m not making any girl who’s forgotten rules in the bedroom, feel good.” He takes off the tie that was wrapped around your eyes, and you notice that he’s not leaning down at you, his glasses still on, but his eyes dark with hunger. God, he’s hot.
“I’m sorry Sir.”
There’s a sharp spank to your clit, and you jump. It’s too much, but in the best way possible. 
“I’ll ask you again. Can you take three fingers and one of those dildos you love so much that you torture your husband with its sight every day?” He doesn’t break eye contact, and you whimper in front of him, pathetic and desperate. 
“Yes, Sir. I can.”
“Open your mouth.” 
Wordlessly, you do, and he spits into your mouth. Then he puts in the dildo. As you see the purple dildo, which is considerably slimmer than Wonwoo’s dick, but about the same length, enter your pussy, you notice how much Wonwoo’s gaze has hardened. Is he really jealous of that damn toy? It’s funny, so you buck your hips up to meet the way he’s slowly fucking you with the plastic dildo, and his eyes become more dangerous. 
“Are you that desperate for it, darling?”
“I want to feel full, Sir.” 
And then something in Wonwoo snaps. He wraps three fingers around the head of the dildo and along with the fingers, he plunges the dildo into you, stretching you out much more than before. The burn eases out after a second, but he fucks you at an incredibly slow pace, which only makes you eager for more. “Faster, please!” “You want me to fuck you with this plastic toy how I fuck you with my cock?” “Yes! I d- I do! I just want to feel full!” Then his other hand finds its way to your tits and twists a nipple hard enough to make it painful. “You’re such a whore, Y/N. Just a pretty whore. You’d take any cock just to keep your holes filled?” “No! I … I only like it when Sir does it for me.” “Liar. Just now you’re so happy to take this dildo, huh?” You can’t even think straight with the pace he’s torturing you at, but you do reply, “That’s- aah! Only- only because Sir’s fucking me with it. Because I can feel your wedding ring inside me, Sir!” 
“Fuck!” There’s another sharp pinch at your nipple before Wonwoo begins fucking you faster, and it only takes you a minute before he’s bringing you to yet another high which leaves you dizzy. 
“God, you’re left speechless. Does Mr Jeon fuck you that good?” He leans it to kiss you, his wet fingers now wrapped around your breasts. You can feel the way your cum still sticks on his fingers, but it feels too good to be gross. You kiss him back, arching your back off the bed, until he pulls away. 
He stands up from the bed, and languidly takes off his clothes. “So pretty like this, princess. Legs all spread out for who?”
“You, Wonwoo. My husband.” 
He stops his movements and stares at you for a second. It seems like calling him husband has the same effect on him as the effect on you when he calls you wife. “Yes, you’re right. Your husband.” He sits next to you to kiss you again and this time, you try to sit upright, in spite of your hands still being tied. When he breaks off, he says, “So let me train you to be my wife, hmm? I want to fuck you so good that your pussy shapes itself around me. That you won’t even need prep when I want to fuck you because it’ll be so used to me.” Oh, no wonder for that size training. “Why? Does your cock get bigger now that you’re my husband?” He smirks, eyes cruel because you’re talking back to him. “No, because I need to fit in perfectly to ensure none of my seed leaves you when I’m breeding you.” And then he attacks your neck, and you’re moaning even before his lips hit skin because his words flip some switches in you that you’ve never even known. Sure, Wonwoo’s always fucked you raw because you’ve been on pills for years, but the idea of him breeding a child into you? Fuck. You’d never even thought about having a child, but this idea turns you on remarkably insanely. 
Soon his shirt is off and he unties your hands. “Take off my pants for me, baby.” And you do. You tease him a bit, but that’s only fair with how hard he’s sucking your breasts, as if he’s born to do this. Before taking off his boxers, you notice the precum that’s leaking out so much that it’s made the fabric quite wet. So you lick his dick clean while it’s still inside his boxers, and you’ve got him hissing and grunting like never before. “Fuck, Y/N, don’t,” he pulls your head away. “Why?” He must notice the way his precum is still sticking on your lips, because he groans again. “I want to cum inside you. Breed you full, baby.” That puts a shy smile on your face as he takes off his underwear, and you finally see his cock upright, leaking and bright red. And perhaps you’re delusional after all those orgasms, but it does seem bigger than before. 
“Please, Mr Jeon, take me.” And he responds to your begging. He kisses you softly, as he lines himself up with you, his left hand still pulling your hands up above your head, and your right hand clutching your hips in an iron grip that will leave marks. And then he just enters, without warning, till the hilt, and you both moan out at the sensation. You don’t know why it feels different, but with how he’s kissing you, almost softly and gently, like he’s a gentleman, while fucking you ruthlessly like he’s in rut, you’re in heaven for sure. 
It’s also the first time Wonwoo is so audible during sex. He’s panting and moaning, although much softer than you, but his sounds spur you on even harder. He can’t stop whispering your name and other pet names in your ears, while you keep moaning his name loud even to burst his eardrums. He doesn’t care. He responds to every word you utter, every little request you beg, and he fucks you fast and hard, until he can’t hold on any further and his entire body is trembling with the incoming orgasm. “Mrs Jeon, can you cum with me?” “Yes, please, Sir.” And so you do, releasing into each other while still making out with each other. It feels like you’ve entered a different dimension of pleasure, and Wonwoo is here with you. It’s a safe feeling beyond description, and you pass out right there.
_
When you do wake up, you find Wonwoo sitting next to you with a cloth in his hands, wiping gently at your legs. 
“How long have I been out?” 
“About ten minutes?”
He doesn’t answer smoothly. You can see the way his hands move softly, almost worshipping. 
“I love you, Wonwoo.”
Then he looks up at you, and you see the way his eyes are quivering. 
“Hey, what’s wrong?” “Nothing.” “No, tell me.” “Nothing just-” You sit up, and take his hands in your own. Then you nod at him, gently urging him on. 
“Was it too much?”
“Huh?”
“Did I push you too much?”
“No. I would’ve used my safeword if you did.”
“But what if you forgot the safeword in the middle of it all- what if you got too pushed by me-”
“I wasn’t, and that’s what matters. I remember it all the time, Wonwoo, you… the traffic lights aren’t really easy to forget. I would tap out somehow if I felt like too much. But it wasn’t, so where’s this coming from?”
“Nothing… I… I hope you’re not just taking it from me because I’m your husband now.”
And at that, you laugh. “Hell, nah, Wonwoo. You know I wouldn’t take it from you even if you were god. You’ve really got me all wrong, then.”
He smiles weakly, and you know it’s still on his mind. So you move over to sit gently on his lap. “Wonwoo, when I said earlier that you know my limits. I wasn’t lying, you know. You do. You don’t push me too much.”
“But if I ever do-”
“If you ever do, you should know that I’ll tap out at once and never forgive you. You always make me feel safe, Wonwoo.” And you hug him, and the fact that you’re both naked makes your hug even warmer and softer as you feel Wonwoo’s hands wrap around your back as well. 
“I love you too, Y/N. I promise I’ll always keep you safe.” And then he kisses your forehead, and you snuggle your face right into the crook of his neck. He smells… like Wonwoo, and it feels like home. 
“Now, how about some lunch, baby?”
“You’re hungry when I had to do all the work?” You gasp while still tucked into his neck, and he giggles with the way your breath tickles his neck. 
“So what does my pretty wife want?”
“She just wants to cuddle you and sleep.” 
“And my wife’s wishes are my commands.”
So he lays down, with you still on top of him like a koala, and pulls the blankets over you both, wrapping you into one tiny ball. You look at him with a fond smile, and you see your expression mirrored in his. “I love you so much, Y/N-ah.”
“And I love you, Wonwoo. I could love nobody else apart from you.”
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izzyy-stuff · 3 months ago
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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐃 - 𝐎𝐓𝟓
bf!txt x afab!reader
in which the txt members take care of you while you are on your period
wc 250-350 per member, 1.4k in total
warnings menstruation duh, cramps, established relationship, pet names, I try to not state which products are used most of the time but in Taehyun's reader uses pads
↪ izzy speaks... yes, I am on my period writing this and I hate it so I need myself someone like them
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CHOI SOOBIN
he always tries to make your pain go away by staying close. You feel like just lying in bed because you're tired or in pain? cuddles. Your cramps are bad? He is your personal heater.
He will ALWAYS make sure you have everything you need
you need another blanket? It's already beside you. Craving your favorite snacks? He bought everything earlier that day.
When you first started dating he was PANICKING
Obviously, he knew menstruation was a thing but he never really needed to care until he got together with you
After the first time you got your period while staying over at his he started asking questions
How bad does it hurt? How often do you get it? What does ovulation have to do with anything?
And then he sat in silence the whole afternoon, just listening to your explanation and taking mental notes
“It's alright, Soobie. I am feeling a lot better now,” you assured him, watching him from the comfort of his bed. “Are you sure though? I can make you a cup of tea? Or maybe we can watch a film together?” He suggested, making you chuckle as you reached your hand to him. Your boyfriend smiled too, holding your hand as he stepped closer. “All I need is for you to lay beside me, yeah?” Soobin nodded, climbing onto the bed. His arms wrapped around your waist, his palm resting on your lower stomach. “I love you,” he whispered against the crouch of your neck, placing soft kisses in the same spot. Your lips curved into a smile again, your hand resting on his. “I love you too, Soob.”
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CHOI YEONJUN
he definitely knows your cycle by heart
he even has the same app you use to keep track of your period on his phone so he is prepared
His bathroom is STACKED with all the products you could possibly want to use
even though he knows your preferences, he likes to have other opinions ready in case you ever change your mind and want to use something new
He also has a few pads/tampons in his bag in case you would need any when you two are out
does literally anything you ask him for
He WILL run to the store to get you your favorite ice cream if you run out of the one you had at home
He likes to stay home with you when your period starts. No matter if you two spend the day lying in bed, watching a movie while eating ice cream, or if you want to clean the whole house, whatever it is, he will stay by your side
“I am going to run to the store real quick, I’ll be right back,” Yeonjun smiled as you finished your lunch. “Oh, really?” You looked up at him immediately, and he could swear he saw sparks in your eyes. “Can you get me-” “Some chocolate and fruits? I am on it,” he interrupted you, nodding. “If you need any pills while I am gone they are in the bathroom, yeah?” He reminded you as if you hadn’t been in his bathroom, looking for the same pills many times before. “I know,” you smiled back at him, standing up from the dining table. “Thank you,” you whispered, walking over to him and placing a kiss on his cheek. “For everything.” His smile grew even wider, stealing a kiss from you when you stepped back again, his hand on your hips. “No need, darling.”
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CHOI BEOMGYU
He definitely says something like "Well, you know, I could take it away from you for nine months" when your period starts just to tease you
but when he sees you glare at him, lying in your bed in pain, he shuts up immediately
“Okay, I am just going to shut up now and run you a bath, yeah?”
Continuously asks you if you are okay or need anything, to the point it gets annoying
But he simply means the best and just wants to make sure you are doing fine because no matter how much he teases you, he loves you
He always tries to make you laugh and make you think about different things
He always makes sure you have enough water to drink,
Extra: you definitely made him try the period pain simulator just so he could see what you go through every month and after that, he had never even tried to tease you about your period
You sat on a chair in your boyfriend’s bathroom, in your pajamas now, your eyes closed as you finally relaxed. “Are you feeling any better?” Beomgyu asked, drying your hair. “A lot,” you hummed with a nod. “Thank you, Beom.” 
He shook his head, turning the hair dryer in his hands off. “I didn’t do anything,” he disagreed. Sure, he had run you a bath and helped you wash your hair, but every boyfriend did that, right? “I am just glad the shower helped. Do you still want me to give you some painkillers?” You opened your eyes again with a nod, “Yes, please.” He smiled, nodding back. “I'll be right back then.”
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KANG TAEHYUN
Man studied for this day
I feel like similarly to Yeonjun, he is always prepared and knows everything he needs in advance
feels no shame in buying you products and doesn't mind doing so every month
surprises you with your favorite food and flowers to bring up your mood
he normally cooks meals for you, but during your period he is extra careful not to miss a single meal, no matter how busy he is
If you are free, he always asks you to visit him at work so you don't have to be home alone
completely understands if you don't want to join him in the gym or do any sports in general during your period
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you panicked, covering your head in embarrassment. How could you just forget you were supposed to get your period today? The gym was the worst possible place it could show up too. Your panties covered with blood, with no sign of any sanitary products in your local gym’s bathroom wasn't the ideal situation. “Love, are you okay?” You heard your boyfriend’s voice behind the door, your eyes widening. “No,” you admitted. “I got it. Oh god, how could I be so stupid and not notice?” 
“Come on, you are not stupid. I should have some pads in my bag, I’ll be right back, yeah?” You sighed in relief. You had an amazing boyfriend, you reminded yourself once again. 
It didn’t take much longer for him to come back, knocking on your door before he opened them slightly, passing you the pad with his fresh pair of boxers he had for after the gym through the gap. “Thank you,” you mumbled, embarrassed. No matter how many times you had gotten your period, it always somehow felt embarrassing. “No need to thank me. I’ll be waiting outside, we can go home and have your favorite meal, what do you think?”
Before you could answer him, you heard a female scream, kicking your boyfriend out of the bathroom. Right, this was the women’s toilet, you remembered, a chuckle escaping your lips. 
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HUENING KAI
Since he has two sisters I hope no one is surprised he KNOWS what to do
He notices every shift in your behavior
every turn you make in your bed, every frown you make from the pain, every change in your eyes. He sees it all and always knows exactly what you need, often before even you do. Before you can register your sudden cravings, he is already bringing you the exact snack you had in mind
he always lets you wear his clothes, but especially when you are on your period
He knows you feel comfortable and calm in his things so once you are on your period he gives you every piece of garment he owns to make you feel exactly that: comfortable and calm
“I wish I could go through it instead, I hate seeing you in pain,” type of guy
Just like Soobin, he always keeps you close, being your personal heater
cuddles, cuddles, and cuddles
“Come here,” Kai encouraged you, moving his gaming chair back so you could sit on his lap more easily. You smiled, walking over to him. You wrapped your arms around his waist as you rested your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes.
He caressed your back while he waited for his game to load, placing kisses on your neck. “Did the painkillers work?” You hummed a quiet “Not yet,” taking a peek at him. “Should I tell Soobin I have to go?” Kai wondered, not bothering to hide the sadness in his voice. You knew he felt sorry for you, but there was not much he could do about your cramps. “It’s fine,” you shook your head. “Keep playing, I am comfortable like this.” Your boyfriend gave your neck one last peck before moving his chair forward again, doing his best to focus on the game on his screen. Still, he couldn’t help it and constantly glanced at you, making sure you were doing okay.
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⋆✶ izzy's tags @beomiracles @seoulzie @adel222 @inkigayocamman @flowzel @love-be0m @virgo-and-libra @hwanghyunjinismybae ✶⋆ want to get notified? join taglist here!
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aplpaca · 3 months ago
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idk if anyone else needs to hear this or like how common a problem it is but like if you usually have a lot of trouble writing non-work/school stuff at any speed, I'd suggest maybe trying out a writing program/interface that doesn't look like microsoft word or google docs
Like, I thought I was just a terminally slow writer when doing my own stuff. I'd get like 50 words down in several hours on a normal day, maybe 200 on a good one. But a while ago I noticed that if I was writing in my notes app or on cash register paper at work, I just did not have that issue. Like I still wasn't The Fastest, but I could get 200 just casually while multitasking on a normal day, and sometimes got up to 600.
So like, I figured it was bc I was putting less pressure on myself at those points bc I wasn't sitting down with the intention to write. And that's prob part of it. But also I recently realized that maybe using word and docs themself while I was on desktop was playing a part in it. Bc those are the programs I'd use while writing for school under a deadline, and that association is kinda soaked into the layout of those programs for me.
So I tried out a free book-drafting program whose layout looks basically nothing like word or docs, and suddenly I've been averaging like 500 words a day pretty much any time I use it. Like, I wrote a 1300 word snippet in 2 days (which previously would have taken more than a week), and I've written 2000 words in the past 4, which for some people might not be much, but is an absolutely insane amount for me and also way more consistent than I've ever been in the past. Wack.
But yeah so like, I guess if u have similar problems, maybe try switching where youre writing and see if that does anything? Ye
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scorpioriesling · 1 month ago
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TikTok Thirst Traps
・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
Featuring: Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, Lucien, Eris, & Tamlin
Warning(s): none
Summary: Nothing much, just the ACOTAR males as TikTok stereotypes / thirst traps.
SR’s Note: Guys I’m soooo sorry I swear I’m working on Invisible String and THTH — I have so much personal life stuff going on too and it’s been hard finding time to write! Anyways, here’s a little sum sum in the meantime for you all. <3
Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)
・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
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Rhysand
major businessman / entrepreneur vibes for rhys’ thirst traps
a man in a suit is just… *chef’s kiss*
he has money and he knows it and does not care to show it on social media
his page is definitely a dark colored theme, most of his attire is black, and he comes across super professional
however
he knows what the ladies like
occasionally his car will make an appearance, or what he would deem “risqué” (ahem, the middle inspiration photo)
doesn’t care too much about comments… he actually finds that the women who frequently spam his page are a bit annoying more than anything
regardless, he would never say anything rude to anyone
keeps his pages mostly professional to avoid conflict in the workplace; but lets be honest, everyone in his office is down bad for this man, he’s not getting in any kind of trouble
genuinely couldn’t find just one that was a perfect fit for rhys, but his page comes very close if it were a bit darker themed and more luxurious / CEO-ish? is that a word? more suit content? you get the gist
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Cassian
i almost feel like it’s a given that his tik tok thirst traps would be the “gym bro” / hot guy workout videos
a lot of these are simply him working out, not necessarily trying to get girls attention or anything but simply provide content for his fitness account
to take this a step further— when the girlies start commenting on his posts with emojis and such, he gets a little flustered. he wasn’t expecting this… he just lifts, that’s all
but, he can’t complain
his page is chaotic; videos of him lifting, flexing, what he eats to stay in shape, and even some videos of self reflection
it’s the comments like, “let me come to the gym with you!” or “you could lift me instead” etc that he turns into videos of how to get into working out / body building… not realizing the girlies just like to look at him. lol
he would respond to just about every comment with something kind or positive, even if it was sexual / silly in nature he’d find a way to make light of it
best example i could find would be this man
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Azriel
i think we already know modern!az is a biker boy. there. i rest my case. that’s all.
i’m kidding
he thrives off the attention from booktok ladies; he doesn’t respond much, but he secretly reads every comment / mention / dm and takes every suggestion seriously when considering new content to create
yes, he films a few with a scream mask on
again, i rest my case
of course he has a darker themed page, lots of slow bass music on his videos and many videos of him riding at night
he’s always in a tight tee to show off his body that he’s spend years honing — and yes, he knows the girls love his arms too
not too much humor online from this guy. no full face reveal either.
however, when he reveals his smile for the first time…
let’s say his followers just about loose their minds
there’s so many tik tok pages like this yall already know what im talking about… here’s an example in case you don’t
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Lucien
at first, he didn’t follow trends or do any kind of thirst traps of any kind. he thought those were kind of dumb and mainly used the app to send funny videos to his friends
however
lucien is creative, and his outlet here is music
apparently being a sassy redhead wasn’t enough, so he started filming himself playing his guitar
shirtless… of course.
the jump in followers may have prompted him to continue filming such content… or maybe the types of comments he was getting to boost that ego of his HAHA
anyways, his vibe is more acoustic / beachy / peaceful and light, very beach boy vibes with him but he will dabble in the electric guitar all the same once he gets used to playing it
per mentioned previously, he used to not make many videos, but now that he does, he finds himself being very real on this app and a lot of times recording small snippets of his own songs and talking into the camera
he enjoys the comments that show he is clearly capable of snagging the attention of the ladies; however, he responds to a lot of the ones that pertain to his talent and are interested in more than just his pretty face <3
i like this example best, with a lighter / more beachy and acoustic aesthetic … this may be more accurate
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Eris
i’m really hoping you guys understand what i’m going for with this one… eris cooks.
like, very handsome, very demure, very good looking, cooking alone, but also… he knows what he’s doing and likes to play with his food, so to speak.
walk with me here.
he knows that a man with expensive taste already gets the ladies going. but a man with expensive taste AND in the kitchen? sir-
he will show every skill he has. baking, cooking, mixology…
and of course, some implied skills as well
he reads his comments — especially the ones where the girlypops are horny on main. he doesn’t give af; he loves that shit. in fact, keep it coming
sensual music, low lighting, expensive clothes… he’s a man that gets it. he could get it. and he knows that.
i think his videos would be a combo of this page and this page if you can use your imagination
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Tamlin
tamlin is a hot ass, gentlemanly, mothafuckin cowboy and i will die on that hill — don’t play with me
while some videos are very pg, very church-boy, very homegrown… there are also the shirtless, sweaty, pickup-truck ones
don’t lie. you know exactly what i’m talking about.
he is a built dude. he works all day in the sun, he’s very caring for his land and the animals that live on it, and when he realized the attention he got from filming himself doing simple things around the ranch…
boy oh boy.
it started with simple things — throwing hay bales, riding horseback, etc…
but then he read his comments. people wanted more. the pretty ladies on the tik tok wanted more.
so he yanked off his shirt and jumped on the trends.
did he particularly like it? no. he didn’t like filming himself walking around his oversized pickup in just his jeans and boots, the sun kissing his skin over the rim of his hat…
but what he did enjoy was the cuties in his DMs and all their sweet messages for him.
he was a countryman at heart, so naturally his page was filled with images of the great outdoors and him in it — though many of his comments went unanswered. he was a bit shy, as social media wasn’t something he liked to use regularly
nonetheless, he did enjoy reading positive feedback after a long hard day of work
his feed would look a lil like this or THIS
゚:* ✧
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floralcyanide · 4 months ago
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― ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴊᴀᴠɪ
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After realizing you've had enough of being single, you decide to branch out further into your romantic life on a whim. What you don't expect is to meet someone as a result. or ; In which you converse in letters and phone calls with Javi Rivera, an active-duty military man.
part two
↝ pairing: Javier "Javi" Rivera / Fem!Reader
↝ warnings: long distance, reader has anxiety, kinda slow burn?, kissing, mentions of death
↝ word count: 5.3k
↝ author's note: I enjoyed writing this so much. this is the first time I've written something this long in a while. I hope ya'll enjoy! there will definitely be a part two and it's gonna be spicy so be prepared. (;
masterlist ⋇ divider credit: @cafekitsune
this fic has been cross posted to ao3.
ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ
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Your dating life has reached a new low. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge- none of them work for you despite your incessant attempts. It’s so bad that your friends have set you up on blind dates, all of which fail or turn into what people like to call situationships. You end up wasting your time on someone thinking it’s going great, and then suddenly, it ends in a fiery crash or sometimes plain old rejection. You’re so tired of dating. Even your university campus has no luck in the dating pool. But then, one night (after drinking too much box wine and scrolling through dating apps begrudgingly), your best friend has an idea.
“Have you ever like, dated long distance?” they ask, swirling their wine around their glass.
“Not really,” you shrug, taking a sip from yours, “I feel like it’d be harder than dating someone close by, which is already a lot.”
“True,” they sigh, “Ooh! Maybe use one of those pen pal apps?” 
“Pen pal apps?” you raise an eyebrow, locking your phone before tossing it on the couch in disgust, “What am I, nine years old?”
Your best friend rolls their eyes, “It’s not something just kids do, you know. A lot of people make genuine connections through letters. It’s a lot better than Tinder or some shitty dating app at this point. You may as well try.”
“I guess you’re right,” you glance down at your phone, “I’m running out of options here.”
After Googling and scrolling through search results, you hum, “Maybe I could do one of the military pen pal programs. That seems promising.”
“Yes! Get you a military man!” your best friend squeals, and you can’t help the giddy smile that grows on your lips.
“Okay, I’ll do it,” you say, and your best friend shakes your shoulder excitedly, “But if it doesn’t work out, I’m just going to die alone, I guess. At this point, it’s less stressful.”
Your best friend snorts, “If we make it to thirty and we’re both still single, we could get married.”
“I love you, but if I had to spend the rest of my life with you, I’d probably go insane.”
“You have some killer jokes, kid. You’re already stuck with me, so sorry.”
That following day, you do a deep dive into all things pen-palling. You decide to sit down at your desk and type up a letter, but it feels too wrong like it needs to be handwritten instead. So, you move your laptop aside, pull out some notebook paper and a pencil, and start your first letter. Except, you aren’t sure what to say first. Then, when you start writing, your handwriting annoys you, and after that, you think your tone is off. You end up scrapping half a tree by the time you start actually writing a decent letter. You introduce yourself and state where you’re from, explaining you’re in college and what you wish to do after graduating. You don’t dive into too much detail but give enough away so your possible pen pal has something to respond to. You also sprinkle in some questions for them to answer as well. You reread your letter, finally satisfied with what you’ve written, before folding it and sliding it into an envelope. You go back to your phone to see where to send the letter, writing down the location along with your name and address on the front.
Life goes on for a little while, and you actually forget you sent a letter to some random person in the military until one day, your best friend is sifting through the mail you tossed onto your counter.
“Uhh, what’s this?” they call out from the kitchen as you surf through Netflix in the living room.
“What’s what?”
“You got a letter from some dude named Javier?” your best friend says it as more of a question than a statement.
You scrunch up your nose and eyebrows in confusion before finally settling on a show you and your best friend have seen a million times already, walking into the kitchen.
“Let me see.”
Your best friend hands over the letter, and you scan the envelope carefully. Javier Rivera. It doesn’t sound familiar to you, but then you notice where the letter is from.
“Oh shit,” you flip the envelope over and tear it open.
“What is it?”
“It’s the pen pal thing!” you say, voice raised in shock, “I didn’t think someone would actually respond.”
“Oh yeah,” your best friend nods, “I forgot about that. I figured you chickened out on it because you never mentioned it again.”
“I didn’t chicken out,” you trail off, taking in the meticulous handwriting of the letter.
Dearest Pen Pal,
Thank you for sending your letter. I don’t think you’ll ever understand how much it meant to me to receive it. I’m Javier, but everyone calls me Javi. I’m the same age as you and have been to college myself. I joined the military for personal reasons, but I haven’t regretted it yet. Your career path seems interesting, and I hope you succeed in the rest of your studies. 
Your best friend hovers over your shoulder, also reading the letter.
“He seems cute,” your best friend giggles.
Javi answers some of your random questions and goes on to say he anticipates your next letter. He also says that if you’d like, he’d send a photo of himself next time. Your best friend has a field day with that.
“Oh my gosh! What if he’s hot?” they gasp.
“Who knows? I wouldn’t care if he wasn’t, anyway. It’s cool to talk to someone I’ve never met over letters.”
“True. But bonus points if he is hot.”
You scoff as you fold the letter up and put it back in the envelope.
When your best friend leaves later on, you immediately bolt to your desk and write your letter. 
Dear Javi,
I’m glad my letter found you well. Thanks for the hope in me, I definitely need it. College is fun, but it’s super exhausting. I don’t think I asked in my last letter, but where are you from? Also, what did you major in while in school? I’d love to see what you look like and put a face to your name. What military branch are you in, and what do you want to do with your experience when you’re back in the States? Sorry for all the questions again! I’m just super curious about things. If this letter reaches you sooner than later this time around, I hope you have a great Thanksgiving.
You wrap up your letter, albeit a little shorter than the last one, and slip it into your mailbox ASAP. This time, you won’t forget you sent it.
When the following letter arrives, it’s early December. You hastily remove your scarf, coat, and wet snow boots at your front door before opening the letter immediately. When you pull the letter from the envelope, a photo falls onto the floor. You pick it up, and it’s a small picture of who you assume is Javi, all decked out in his military uniform. Okay, your best friend was right on the money, he is pretty cute.
Dearest Pen Pal,
I had a decent Thanksgiving. I hope yours was better than mine! I’m from Miami, Florida. I went to school in Muskogee, Oklahoma, and while I was there, I studied weather phenomena and chased storms. It was a whole thing, but I’ll get into that later. And I don’t mind all the questions. I think it’ll be fun getting to know each other. 
Javi explains what branch he’s in and also admits he doesn’t know what he’s going to do after the military as of yet. He talks about his Thanksgiving and wishes you a Merry Christmas if he doesn’t get to communicate with you before then. You decide to send a photo of yourself back to him, digging out your Polaroid camera when you go to your bedroom to respond to his letter. You touch up your makeup a little and make sure your hair isn’t absolutely a mess before taking a photo. Sitting down to write your letter, you aren’t sure how to react to the photo Javi sent. You don’t want to be weird, but you also want him to know that you think he’s attractive. 
Dear Javi,
I love the photo you sent, and you look pretty dapper in your uniform. I’m sending a picture of myself, too. Chasing storms sounds very interesting. Please tell me more about that! 
You rattle off some things you have done while in school, talking about the places you have traveled to over the years and the people you’ve met. You gush about your best friend, especially. 
So far, you’re probably the most intriguing person I’ve talked to, Javi. Not everyone can say they’re a storm chaser, you add. 
You polish off your letter, which ends up being two pages long (three if you count the back on the first page, too.) You neatly fold up the paper and slide it into an envelope. You don’t expect a reply until New Year because of the amount of mail that will be coming in and out of the base. Javi is stationed on the other side of the country from you and may be moved out of the country if needed. 
As you expected, it isn’t until a month and a half later that you receive a letter from Javi again. It’s a long letter- a few pages total this time. The letter is in a Christmas card, and it’s signed by Javi. You immediately hang the card on your refrigerator door so you can look at it daily. He talks about how his holidays went, how all the guys on his base called home or were able to FaceTime their family. Javi asks how your holidays have gone and showers you with compliments over the photo you sent him. You can’t help but feel your stomach flutter at his words. 
Over the next few months, you and Javi write back and forth diligently. You know just about everything about Javi, and he knows almost everything about you. You feel like there’s something he’s keeping from you, possibly the storm chasing he had brought up, but you don’t push it. He will tell you when he’s ready. And there’s also some stuff about your life you’d rather wait to explain as well. In your last letter, you wrote your email and phone number so that Javi can communicate with you in other ways. You’re able to guess how long it takes the letters to get to Javi, so around the time you expect them to get to him, you’re giddy. You anxiously await a phone call or email any day now.
It’s August when your phone rings with a call from an unknown number. You have had such a long day- school for several hours, then work immediately after in the evening. You can’t help but wonder who could be calling at 9 pm. You make yourself comfy on the couch with your favorite beverage before answering the phone.
“Hello?” 
“Hi, it’s Javi. Is this the right number?”
You nearly choke on your sip of drink, “Oh shit. Hi! Yes, this is the right number!”
Javi laughs from the other end, and you decide you want to hear that laugh again so badly. 
“Sorry I’m calling so late over there. The phone was surprisingly available, and I got your letter today saying I could call. So I did,” Javi said.
“It’s okay,” you shrug, even though he can’t see, “I just got home from work, actually. So perfect timing.”
“Great. How was your day?”
The two of you spend about an hour on the phone, relishing having an actual conversation in real time.
“I’m so glad to finally hear your voice,” Javi says after a natural pause in conversation, “That’s not too cheesy, right?”
You snort, “It kind of is, but it’s cute. I’m glad to hear your voice, too.”
After another ten minutes, Javi sadly admits that he has to hang up since it’s almost dinner time where he is. 
“We should talk again sometime if you’re able to,” you smile, biting at your fingernail nervously.
You hope he calls again, but letters will always suffice just fine.
“I’ll try my best. Maybe sometime next week?”
“Sounds like a plan,” you say, pulling the phone away from your ear so you can silently kick your feet in excitement.
“Alright, then. Talk to you later,” Javi says.
“See ya,” you grin, and the call concludes.
It isn’t the following week that he calls, but the week after that. Javi discloses that he sent a surprise in the letter he just mailed. He also slips up and says it’s almost his birthday, and you immediately have an idea. After your long conversation on the phone, asking some questions here and there about certain things he likes that you didn’t already know before, you decide to send Javi a package.
You send a postcard from your home state, some non-perishable snacks, socks that were his favorite color that he could wear when not on base, notebooks he could write letters in, some fun pens to go with the notebooks, and a birthday card. After signing it, you leave a lip print on the card just to test the waters. You’ve come to really like Javi over the last year, and you wonder if he likes you back. Sometimes, he’ll be flirty in letters or over the phone, but nothing too crazy. Nothing that gives you alarm bells that he likes you in the way that you like him. So, you’re taking a leap of faith. 
A few weeks after sending the package, you get Javi's phone call while doing some class work at your desk. You spin around in the chair aimlessly as you answer the phone.
“A kiss, huh? That’s cute.”
“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little something to remind you of me,” you say.
“It’s definitely not nothing,” Javi teases, “I think you want to kiss me.”
 Your ears grow hot at the sound of Javi’s voice deepening in playfulness.
“And so what if I do? There’s nothing you can do about it,” you bite back with just as much playfulness.
“Are you sure about that?” Javi says, a knowing lilt in his voice.
“What do you mean?” you furrow your eyebrows, stopping the chair from spinning entirely so you can focus.
“I’m most likely coming home for Christmas this year, but I still have to work out some stuff,” Javi says, an edge of excitement in his voice, “I’d like to possibly see you.”
“Oh,” you say, your voice squeaking, “Really? You want to see me?”
“Of course I wanna see you,” Javi chuckles, “We’ve been corresponding for a while. I’d like to finally see you in person.”
You suddenly feel like you’re going to throw up, but in a good way. You’re sick with nervous excitement. 
“O-okay,” you grin, “I’ll be finished with the semester at the beginning of December. Depending on when and where you want to meet, I can ask off from work.”
Javi has family not too far from where you live, and he wants to stop and see, so the two of you agree to meet in a city that’s basically halfway. December 20th is the day you’re supposed to meet Javi after a year of conversing through letters and over the phone. Who would have thought, right? That some random idea from your best friend would have led you here? Speaking of which, your best friend is beside themselves with excitement just like you. You called them immediately after hanging up with Javi.
“When you get married, make sure to thank me!” they say half-jokingly.
“Shut up,” you roll your eyes, trying to stifle a grin, “What if we don’t like each other when we meet, though? What if it’s awkward? What if we don’t have anything to talk about? What if-”
“Hush!” your best friend shushes you, “It will go fine. It will go great. In fact, you’re going to have a splendid time.”
“I guess you’re right,” you sigh, eyeballing the photo of Javi you have pinned to your corkboard over your desk.
“I’m always right,” your best friend giggles.
It’s now the end of your semester, and you’re beyond excited for a few reasons. In a week, you meet Javi, and this coming Spring semester is your last. So, for the time being, you’ll be finished with college. You come home from your final exam and start making a packing list. You’re staying at a hotel in the city where you’re meeting Javi for a day or two, depending on how things go. You have so much to do before going on the mini trip that if you didn’t have a list planned out for everything, your head would surely fly off your shoulders. You have to wrap gifts for your friends and family, pack your bag, clean your apartment, and put up decorations for the party you and your best friend are throwing for Christmas. 
Deciding to surprise Javi, you get him a gift for Christmas. It’s a wool sweater you think will fit nicely and a beautiful, deep color that you figure will compliment his skin tone. You carefully put the sweater in a robe box, taping the sides shut and signing your name on the tag before putting it under the Christmas tree. You managed to put up the large tree by your lonesome and didn’t kill yourself doing it, so you considered it a win. After wrapping a few more gifts and stuffing them under your tree, you check the time. It’s a little past dinnertime, and you decide it’s probably best to finally pack your bag for tomorrow. 
A melatonin gummy is definitely in your future so you can get some sleep, or else you’ll toss and turn in an anxious fit all night. After finishing up packing as lightly as you can muster, you settle into bed. When you wake in the morning, you get a text from an unknown number, which you assume is from Javi’s cell, letting you know he is getting on his flight. You almost quite literally jump out of bed before hitting the shower and getting ready. You take your time fixing your hair and makeup, picking out a cute but comfortable outfit for your 2-hour drive. 
After getting your belongings and the gift inside your car, you shoot your best friend a text letting them know you’re leaving your apartment and that you’ll text when you get to the airport. Taking a few deep breaths, you crank your car and head off. You are deep in your thoughts the entire ride, not evening singing along to your music most of the time. What if Javi decides he isn’t impressed by what he sees? You try to push away your anxiety as you near the airport. Finding parking after circling around for a while, you hurry to grab the gift and go inside. It’s hectic, considering it’s five days until Christmas, but you get through TSA without a hitch. You find the coffee shop where you and Javi agreed to meet and sit at a table in the corner. You scroll through social media, trying not to panic. You text back and forth with your best friend for a while until you receive a message from Javi saying he’s landed. Suddenly, an icy, numbing nervousness runs through your veins. You take a deep breath and tell yourself it will be okay, and everything will be fine. 
You decide to meet Javi at his gate and return to the coffee shop. Getting up from your seat, you shake yourself off a little before walking to the gate where Javi is to exit his flight. You aimlessly check your phone every five minutes out of anxiety. People start to leave from the corridor, dragging their carry-ons with them. Suddenly, you spot Javi walking out with the crowd, his face turned downward at his phone. When he looks up, he has to do a double-take when he sees you. You can’t help the grin that plasters your face.
“Hi,” Javi grins back as he approaches you, taking in your appearance fully for the first time, “Is it okay if I hug you?”
“You don't have to ask, silly,” you roll your eyes playfully, setting the gift by your feet before allowing Javi to pull you into him.
You wrap your arms around him, your nose buried in his shoulder. He’s dressed in his uniform, much to your delight, meaning you get to see how handsome he looks in person. 
“Don’t tell me that’s for me,” Javi gives you a jokingly dissatisfied look when he pulls away from you, his eyes darting to the gift beside you. 
“Would you kill me if it was?” you say, picking it up and handing it to him.
“Nah,” Javi waves you off, leaning down to dig in his carry-on for something, “Besides, I got you something, too.”
“Javi,” you drag out his name in annoyance, “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Of course I did. It’s Christmas,” Javi smiles, secretly enjoying how you say his name in person.
You both go to baggage claim and the coffee shop before opening your gifts. You and Javi match each others’ stride, your hands accidentally brushing against one another a few times. Finally, Javi decides to throw caution to the wind and grabs your hand, sliding his fingers between yours. You glance down before smiling at him, trying to hide how giddy you are from the simple gesture. When you arrive at the coffee shop, you sit in the same corner you were previously in and settle in your seats.
“So,” Javi slides his gift over to you, pulling his toward him, “What’d you get me?”
“Why don’t you open it and see?” you lean over the table in wait, your smile from earlier still not quite leaving your lips.
“That I will do,” Javi says, carefully opening his gift.
“This is a lovely color,” he pulls the sweater out and fully takes it in, “Very soft. You did a great job because I love sweaters.”
“I’m glad you love it,” you sink into your seat with relief.
“Now, open yours,” Javi pushes your gift in your direction with a single finger. 
“Is it going to explode in my face?” you joke as you pull the wrapping off.
“I swear it won’t,” Javi laughs.
You open the box to reveal a beautiful necklace with your birthstone dangling from the chain. 
“This looks expensive, Javi. Please tell me you didn’t spend an arm and a leg on this,” you gasp.
“No promises,” Javi shrugs, getting up from his seat and walking behind you, holding out a hand for the necklace, “May I?”
You gently place the jewelry into his palm, lifting your hair so Javi can put the necklace around your neck. His fingers brush your skin lightly as he clasps the chain successfully, “There we go.”
Javi sits and admires how the necklace falls onto your collarbone with a glimmer in his eyes, “Looks beautiful on you.”
You’re nearly this close to being on the floor, curled into an inconsolable ball. Instead of doing that, you cover your face in embarrassment. 
“Gosh, thank you for the gift, Javi,” you move your hands from your face, “I wasn’t expecting something so stunning. I would’ve gotten you something slightly better if I had known.”
“You can’t sit here and tell me this wool sweater wasn’t pricey enough. It’s okay, you know. Besides, I like giving gifts I know someone will love; the price doesn’t matter.”
You sigh, shaking your head with a smile and resting your chin on your fist, “Whatever you say, Javi.”
Javi mimics your position but reaches his other hand out to wrap it around your wrist gently, “I love it when you say my name.”
You stare at each other momentarily, just taking each other in. It had been a year of wondering what Javi was like in person- how tall he was, how he smelled, how he carried himself. You realize he has a million freckles on his face that you never noticed in the photos he sent. Javi brushes his thumb over your pulse point, and you’re close to losing your composure. You’re both so wrapped up in drinking each other in that you nearly jump out of your skin when the barista calls someone’s name for their order.
You compose yourself, but Javi lightly chuckles at your facial expression.
“I’m super awkward sometimes, but you know that already,” you try to joke about the situation instead of dying of shyness. 
“It’s okay, I think it’s cute.”
“You’re going to make me turn into a puddle if you don’t stop,” you cover your face again, the tips of your ears burning.
Javi just laughs again. You realize his laugh is better in person than over the phone.
Over your order of coffee and iced tea, you and Javi decide to have a proper dinner later on in the day. Both of you are pretty tired and would appreciate refreshing yourselves at your respective hotels first. You hold hands again while exiting the airport and offer Javi a ride to where he’s staying.
“It’s just a walk down the block. I’ll be fine.”
“But it’s cold,” you frown.
“I’ll live, I promise.” Javi pulls your head to his chest before planting a kiss on the top of it.
Your body grows warm at the endearing gesture, “See you later?’
“See you later,” Javi smiles before making his way out of the parking garage.
You immediately call your best friend when you get in the car and discuss how the initial meeting went while on your way to the hotel.
“Did you kiss?!” they squeal.
“Not yet,” you say, “I don’t expect anything to happen today. We held hands, though.”
“Spicy!” your best friend says, “Next thing you know, you’ll be having kids.”
“Will you ever be quiet?” you jokingly ask your best friend.
You take a well-needed nap after checking into the hotel, setting an alarm for an hour from the time you laid down. When you wake up, you notice it’s snowing outside. The place Javi wants to take you is a few blocks away from his and your hotels, and you figure you’ll enjoy the snow during your walk.
You fix your makeup a little and add some final touches here and there to your face and hair before deciding on one of the skirts you brought. A thick sweater and some tights are thrown with it, and you’re ready to go. Javi shoots you a message asking if you’re ready, and you respond quickly before leaving the hotel. The evening is pleasant, with the snow falling softly for the entire duration of your walk. When you arrive at the restaurant, Javi is waiting for you at the door, as handsome as ever in some black slacks, a dress shirt, and a heavy petticoat draped over his shoulders. He wraps an arm around you as you both enter the restaurant, where you’re immediately whisked away to a table with a nice view. Wine is ordered, and you take a moment to drink Javi in as he sits across from you. You nearly have to pinch yourself to believe this is real and actually happening.
“So,” you lean forward, hand tucked under your chin, “You never told me about your endeavors while in college. I’ve been dying to know about that storm chasing you brought up but never knew when to ask.”
Javi smiles, “Yes, it was a very wild time in my life. I don’t talk about it often. What did you want to know?”
“Why did you do it? Just curious.”
“Well, Javi clears his throat, “It was actually my best friend Kate’s idea. She had this big project that required extensive information about storms and tornadoes in particular.”
“Gotcha,” you lean back in your chair, “Ever see any scary storms?”
“We saw a few, but the scariest one was a five on the Fujita scale. It didn’t end very well for us,” Javi casts his eyes down.
“You don’t have to keep talking about it if you don’t want to,” you reach out your hand to put on top of Javi’s, sensing the topic is touchy.
“No, it’s something you need to know about me. So I’ll tell you,” he explains, “It was me, Kate, and three of our other friends, Addy, Praveen, and Jeb, working on the project together. We didn’t anticipate the tornado to be as strong as it got, and everyone but Kate and I ended up dying as a result of being caught in the storm.”
“I’m so sorry, Javi. That sounds scary and awful. I’m glad you made it through that,” you frown, and Javi meets your eyes for a moment.
“Sometimes I wonder why I’m one of the ones who survived. It bothered me a lot, so much that I decided to drop out of college and go into the military. I needed some stability in my life after that.”
“I understand,” you say, “We can talk about something else if you’d like. I know this is probably hard for you to think about.”
The rest of the evening is spent laughing over stories of Javi and his late friends and the ones he’s made in the military. You tell him wild stories of you and your best friend, some of which he couldn’t believe. After a few too many glasses of wine, the two of you decide to call it a night. 
“I had a wonderful time,” you say as Javi hooks your arm with his, and the two of you leave the restaurant.
It’s still snowing lightly, and the temperature has dropped significantly. You pull your coat closer to your chest. Javi notices and opts to wrap his arm around you, pulling you into his side to warm you. 
“I had a great time, too,” Javi grins. 
He walks you to your hotel, and you thank him for dinner. 
“Heading out in the morning?” you ask as the two of you stand outside the hotel entrance.
“Yes,” Javi says, his hands shoved into his coat pockets, “I’m seeing my aunt and uncle and then heading to Miami for my parents and sister.”
“That’s good,” you nod, “I am having a Christmas party with some friends and family in a  few days, and I’m looking forward to it.”
“Sounds fun,” Javi says, and you notice the two of you don’t really want to depart quite yet, but you must.
“You should probably get back. It’s getting cold and late,” you nudge Javi’s arm with yours.
“Yeah, I should,” he trails off, his eyes not leaving yours.
For a moment, you stare into Javi’s eyes, taking in their color and the length of his eyelashes. Before you realize it, you’re both leaning in. Javi slides his hand up your neck to cup your face, his skin warm despite the freezing air. He guides your face to his, his eyes fluttering shut as he gently presses his lips to yours. Your eyes close, too, and you allow Javi to take control of the kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. When it’s time for air, you both pull away.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Javi whispers, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile.
“Same here,” you say, playing with the curls at the nape of Javi’s neck.
“I should get going,” Javi frowns, “But I will definitely keep in touch the best I can over the next few days.”
“Okay,” you say, “Enjoy your Christmas.”
Javi begins to walk away, and you turn to go inside your hotel. But then Javi pauses, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.
“Wait, what are you doing New Year's Eve?” he asks, and you can’t help the grin that sneaks up on your face.
“Depends. What are you doing?”
“Anything with you.”
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selkies-world · 1 year ago
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Language resources
(Duolingo alternatives)
For those who no longer use or trust Duolingo, I've put together a list of resources - apps, learning methods, programmes, etc - with a list of whether or not they are free, and my personal experience with their success at teaching a language. I have also included new ones that I haven't tried yet but which I have researched; for these, I have included a rating of how much hope I have for them panning out in the future.
[I grew up bilingual & went to a multicultural school that had a student body consisting of children from refugee families who spoke little to no English. The school prioritised teaching the entire student body the minority languages, and finding a bridge language we could all learn together to fill in any gaps in communication. Due to this, I spent the last 4 years of primary school learning new languages with the rest of the student body.
We would have a school-wide lesson for 1 hour once a week - usually with a child or staff member fluent in that language leading the lesson at the front of the gym with a microphone so we could hear the correct pronunciation in time with reading the native spelling & English phonetics on the projector screen at the front of the hall. We were expected to use this language in the corridors when we spoke with teachers or staff members and when we passed by other students regardless of what their or our native languages were. As far as fluency went, we were expected to be able to recognise and say greetings and goodbyes, enquire to each others well-being, know how to ask for assistance, how to ask for medical help for various things, how to ask where the bathroom was, to give and receive directions around the entire school, as well as colours, names of things found around the school, make small talk about our activities of the day and our family, and why we were out of class - all with relative ease & mutual understanding.
We changed language after every break, so it was roughly 8 hours of lessons in each language, before we would start again with a new one.
Alongside this, the older students in the school (final 3 years, aged 9 - 11/12) would learn French 3+ hours a week for those 3 years so their writing, reading and speaking standards were acceptable for the beginning of high school. In 1 of these years, we also studied both of our native languages for the first time, for 6 weeks each.
I left traditional schooling at 11, and while I was home-schooled I taught myself Italian, Russian, and Latin from scratch, along with relearning my preferred native language, and 2 forms of sign - I used Makaton as a young child and in school as I have a form of mutism, but as a teen I realised I associated this language with the severe trauma I experienced at school, and so suffered from flashbacks and dissociative episodes when I used it. This, along with medical concerns, led to me learning BSL, and then SSE. Today, I use a combination of English, SSE and my native language in everyday settings. I have a mental block for learning French due to it being heavily associated with my trauma.
I am saying all this not for sympathy, but so that you can see firstly how much I enjoy and value learning languages, and in order to show my experience levels with learning languages. I've used, tried, and tested all of the learning methods I will be talking about in this post. I have either used or done a lot of research into the apps and programmes discussed in this post.
And yes, I have prioritised ones that teach endangered languages, indigenous languages and languages that aren't often included in language media such as Hebrew, various forms of Arabic, Navajo, Gaelic, and others. I have also included ones that teach and / or document sign languages and sign communication systems.]
Please note that the following lists are arranged in no particular order. They are not ranked best to worst or by any other X to Y ratio. They are simply ranked according to how I remembered, tested, or found each of them.
Apps
1: Fluyo.
Rating for hope / faith: ☆☆☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆☆
Effectiveness: n/a
Cost: unknown
Status: not yet publicly available
Please note that while Fluyo is not yet available, its Kickstarter page is flourishing, its app is in development, and the developer is a man of colour who has continued to devote himself to this app and its development despite rising health concerns, developing a life-changing disabling condition, and numerous set-backs. His YouTube channel is very educational, and he has also written a book on language-learning. If you would like to know more, you can learn about him here. Fluyo is set up like a computer game with multiple cute characters who are interactive rather than stationary, and I genuinely have high hopes for it once it is released.
2: Babble
Personal experience: ☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆
Cost: free trial for the first lesson, but a paid subscription is required for any further lessons
Status: available to download
3: Language Drops
Personal experience: ☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆
Cost: free for some lessons, but a paid account is required for access to all lessons
Status: available to download
4: Fluent forever
Hope for: ☆☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆
Cost: free access to basic lessons to build your confidence with the language, but a paid subscription is required for unlimited access
Status: available to download
5: Lingopie
Hope for: ☆☆☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆
Cost: free trial for 7 days, but a paid subscription is required after that for continued use of the app
Status: available to download
6: Fluenday
Hope for: ☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆
Cost: free
Status: available to download
7: Language flower
Hope for: ☆
Languages available: ☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆
Cost: free, as far as I can tell
Status: available to download
8: Sign BSL / Daniel Mitchell
Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆
Cost: free
Status: available to download
Please note that Daniel Mitchel offers a BSL version of this, along with an ASL version.
9: Bright BSL / sign lab
Personal experience: ☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆
Effectiveness:☆☆☆☆
Cost: free for some lessons + premium for all other lessons
Status: available to download
Please note that Sign Lab offers this app for the following sign languages: BSL (Bright BSL), ASL (ASL Bloom), LSF (Pause LSF / Langue des Signes, yoDGS, Libras (LibrasLab), Italian Sign Language (MeLISegno), and Toleio: Norsk Tegnspråk.
10: BSL zone
Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆
Cost: free
Status: available to download
11: Reverso context
Personal experience: ☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆
Cost: free
Status: available to download
This is less for learning a language, more for quick reference / fact-checking a translation.
12: Pimsleur
Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆
Cost: free 7 day trial, but a paid subscription is required for continued use
Status: available to download
13: Memrise
Personal experience: ☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆
Cost: free for introductory levels, with a premium option to unlock majority of lessons
Status: available to download
14: Busluu
Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆
Cost: Free, with a premium option to download lessons, more repetition, and extra lessons
Status: available to download
15: Hello Talk
Hope for: ☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆
Cost: free
Status: available to download
16: Rosetta Stone
Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆
Cost: monthly subscription is required
Status: available to download
17: Lingo Deer
Personal experience: ☆
Languages available: ☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆
Cost: free, with a premium option for all lessons beyond Basics 1
Status: available to download
18: Beelinguapp
Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆
Cost: free trial, but a subscription is required for total access
Status: available to download
19: Lingvist
Personal experience: ☆
Languages available: ☆☆☆ (though it does have an option to suggest other languages for them to add, and which language you would like to learn from, and they'll email you when / if that language becomes available)
Effectiveness: unknown
Cost: free
Status: available to download
[Please note this one is not photosensitive friendly or seizure friendly. I had to close the app as soon as I opened it due to the design on their opening page, and even when I reopened it and clicked straight through, their colour scheme was still upsetting to my senses.]
20: Lingvano
Hope for: ☆☆☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆
Cost: free for a few lessons, but for access to all lessons, a paid subscription is required
Status: available to download
21: Duocards
Personal experience: ☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆
Cost: free, but a more advanced version is available for premium accounts
Status: available to download
22: Chatterbug
Hope for: ☆☆☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆
Cost: free with limited access, but a paid version is available
Status: available to download
23: Mango languages learning
Hope for: ☆☆☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆
Cost: free trial, with a premium account required for further access
Status: available to download
24: EdX
Hope for: ☆☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆
Cost:
Status: available to download
Please note that EdX is an app which houses courses on multiple subjects, not specifically a language-learning app.
25: Mondly Languages
Personal experience: ☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆
Cost: free, though it does repeatedly offer you a subscription account for an experience catered to you and your interests
Status: available to download
Please note this one may be triggering to those who are photosensitive or whose senses are upset by rapid moving gifs. There is a crown in the top right-hand corner which vibrates very quickly.
26: Speakly
Hope for: ☆☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆
Cost: free trial, with a subscription account required for further use
Status: available to download
27: Pocket sign
Hope for: ☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆
Cost: free, as far as I can tell
Status: available to download
28: Lingo legend language learning
Hope for: ☆☆☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆
Cost: free, though I think there may be a premium option either available but unmentioned, or in the works
Status: available to download
Please note that this app offers you the chance to vote for which languages should be added to its interface, so they can prioritise which ones to fund.
29: INC sign language app
Hope for: ☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆
Cost: free
Status: available to download
For those with religious trauma, please note that INC stands for Iglesia Ni Cristo, and the INC Sign Language App "is a project of the Christian Society for the Deaf under the Christian Family Organizations Office of the Iglesia Ni Cristo (Church Of Christ)". While it does not appear to prioritise religious content, the content does feature people dressed in suits as if for attending a church sermon.
30: My signing time
Hope for: ☆☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆
Cost: 14 day free trial, and a subscription is required after this point
Status: available to download
Please note that this one is aimed at babies / toddlers & families.
32: Falou
Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆
Cost: free, with a premium option if you want to learn more than 1 language & unlock additional courses in your chosen language
Status: available to download
33: Earworms
Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆
Cost: free for the demo, then after that, the lessons are broken into two "volumes" to buy individually, or 1 bonus-pack which contains both to buy once at a slightly reduced cost.
Status: available to download
Please note that Earworms used to be available as CD lessons, which is when I first used them. The CDs were in Volumes and were more expensive than all costs on this app. I used them 10 years ago and still remember what I learned despite not getting to use the language very often, so I can guarantee their method is very effective.
34: Qlango
Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆
Cost: free, with a premium option for the final 3 levels
Status: available to download
Please note that this one is laid out more like a semi-immersive lesson plan rather than a game. However, it is currently my favourite one.
Other resources
1: Signing hands (YouTube)
Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆
Cost: free
Status: available to watch
2: Military style
Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆☆
Cost: n/a
Status: available to begin for free, though it will be difficult for you to find an environment that allows you to experience this authentically. If you would like to learn more about what the military style is, I will speak about it further below.
3: Textbooks / Reading materials
Personal experience: ☆☆☆☆
Languages available: ☆☆☆☆☆
Effectiveness: ☆☆☆☆
Cost: free, or otherwise up to you (what you are willing / able to spend on it)
Status: available to start whenever you feel like it
You can find numerous language-learning resources listed at the end of this post. I also recommend buying an up-to-date dictionary and thesaurus in your chosen language, and studying it. Study the grammar noted in the front, and then actually read the dictionary. It will seem strange, but it will benefit you in the long-run. Make notes as you go, highlight and colour some things in as you see fit.
Learning methods
1: Immersion
Over and over again, we are told that immersion is the best, most effective way to learn a language. This is because this is how we often think children learn languages - and we're partly right about that.
Immersion is the process of immersing yourself in the chosen language, with one single choice: learn the language, or suffer.
If our brains have to choose between struggling to pronounce a few words while gesturing to something we want and clinging onto sounds we hear like trying to hold onto a wet otter, or not getting what we want, we're going to choose to sound & look like an idiot, pointing and saying basic sounds, even if trying to remember the reply is like trying to remember Pi.
With enough time, though, we pick the language up remarkably well when we have no choice but to pick it up. This is the method which has us mimicking accents and gestures and expressions in order to best gain what we want: to express ourselves, our needs and our desires.
However, immersion is often critiqued because unless you have the means to fly to the country that speaks your desired language and live there with 0 influence from your native language for 6+ months... Well, you're not fully immersed, are you? Language apps try to give you an immersive experience, but you can always put your phone down. Depending on where you were educated, you may have had an immersive language class, where you had to learn the language or not be able to join in and so failed by default.
Good ways to mimic immersion are: finding radio channels in your chosen language and watching TV shows in your chosen language without subtitles, and listening to music in your chosen language.
2: Flashcards
Flashcards often tend to be a popular way to test your memory and retention of a particular subject. However, using them to begin learning a language can lead to a loss of motivation.
If you are creating the flashcards yourself, I would recommend creating them in 2 sets: 1 which is the traditional flashcard (your first language OR a picture on one side, and the translation on the other side), and 1 which has twice as many, with only 1 side being used. This second set should be designed like playing cards - the word or picture on one side, and a plain back.
This second set can be used when you're wanting to boost your motivation or confidence - arrange the cards face down, and begin playing the children's game of Pairs. Another option would be Snap.
When you return to using the traditional flashcards, you'll have a better foundation to build on if you've taught yourself to see these as fun, and taught your brain to associate these cards with quickfire responses - such as are brought to the surface during childrens' cards games.
3: Stickers
This is a method which seems obvious once it's pointed out, but seems confusing if you've never done it before.
Simply put, using stickers is when you create or buy stickers with the translation of everyday objects, words and phrases in your chosen language, and put them up around your house. "Door" goes on the door. "Cupboard" goes on the outside of a cupboard, "bread" goes on the inside. "Fridge" goes on the fridge door. "Milk" goes behind the milk so you see it every time you pick the milk up. "Lightswitch" goes above / under the lightswitch. Etc etc etc.
This is a memory retention technique used for multiple scenarios. Nurseries and schools may sometimes have the Makaton sign for something shown in a large diagram stuck to the walls / surfaces. Carehomes may have the names & purposes of objects stuck to the surfaces / objects in the dominant language, for the residents with memory issues or communication barriers.
While this is a good technique for quickfire memory boosts, it can be a slow way to learn a language from scraps, and is better suited for when you are semi-familiar with the written form of the language you are learning. It is also a good way to get everyone involved, as everyone in the home will be interacting with the stickers.
4: Forced conversation
This one is controversial, but can be very effective if it is approached with an open mind, clear communication and previously-agreed upon rules and lines.
The method of forced conversation is exactly what it sounds like: it is when you are engaged in a conversation in your target language, in which the person whom you are conversing with refuses to speak your original language. However, no matter how poor your language skills are, or how uncomfortable you get, they do not stop the conversation, and you do not let to leave the situation until they are satisfied you have communicated well enough, and have understood them. This will usually be "proven" by them giving you instructions, asking a specific question, or requesting you do something for them - if you follow the action through, you have understood them, if you try to give a vague answer and do not do the task, you have not understood them, and the interaction is forced to continue. Again.
This method is controversial because it is not immediately inclusive or welcoming for those who are shy, have anxiety, any form of Mutism, or who have a neurodiversiry or learning disability which impacts their communication. In formal situations, it is often these people who fall behind or get put off from learning a language if forced conversations are the only method they have the option of.
However, if there are adaptions made and accommodation previously discussed and provided, this can still be a viable method which is inclusive to all.
If the person speaking your target language is previously informed of your communication issues or complications, and are instructed in how to accommodate you (ie: Do they need to point at something, or use picture cards as prompts? Do you prefer using picture cards? Do you get distracted if they use hand gestures? Do you need fidget toys provided? Will it be easier for you if you are not forced to maintain eye contact? Will it be better for you if one or both of you are moving around rather than sitting down directly across from each other? Do the lights need to be altered in your environment to make the sensory experience less overwhelming? Do you use noise cancelling headphones? Do you focus better if there is music on in the background? Are there certain tones of voice or volume levels that need to be avoided? Does constantly changing body language stress you out? Do you have a stutter or speech impediment that may impact your pronunciation? Etc.)
Accomodaring these issues, and coming up with a signal to take a break (ie, if you have issues telling the difference between "I am angry at you personally" and "I am tired today" in vocal tones and facial expressions, will you get upset if you think the person is angry at you for not knowing their language? If so, do you need a signal to take a break so you can clearly communicate your stress, and they can give you an answer in your original language and clarify anything which is upsetting or confusing you, before continuing the conversation in your target language?) or to speak in simpler terms? Is their one subject you can talk about particularly well (a hyperfixation) which they can use in the conversation to help you engage?
All of these accommodations may seem intimidating, but if all those involved are aware of these accommodations going into the conversation, it can make the interaction much more positive and productive.
Forced conversation uses the same logic as immersion: if your brain has to choose between looking / sounding like an idiot who stumbles over words, or a very uncomfortable situation which lasts longer each time you make a mistake, your brain will choose to look like an idiot in order to achieve what it wants.
5: Repetition
Repetition is a very common method of learning a language, though it is often criticised for being ineffective.
It is when a phrase or word is said by one party, and repeated by another. If the second party does not pronounce it correctly, the first party repeats it again. This continues until the second party gets it correct. Then the pattern is repeated with another phrase / word. Once a certain number of words have been said correctly by the second party, the first party will return to the start and repeat the process again, with the second party having to say the phrases / words correctly multiple times before being able to move onto the next. The entire process continues in this loop until the second party is saying things correctly with ease.
This method is part of what makes up both immersion, flashcards and military style methods for language learning. It can also be used with textbook learning.
However, it is often critiqued because once the second party is away from the first party and left to their own devices, their confidence in their previous pronunciation will falter, and when they return to the lesson or need to use the language again, they'll be at a lower level of achievement than they were when they left. It is also very tedious, and can become boring.
6: Music
When I spoke about immersion, I briefly mentioned music. I also said that we assume children learn language via immersion. However, as adults we often overlook something else which plays a crucial role in teaching children language: music.
Children learn language, rhythm, speech patterns, and turn-of-phrase via songs, rhymes, riddles, fables, tongue-twisters, and music.
This is why it can be priceless to learn songs in your chosen language. Lullabies. Nursery rhymes. Children's songs. Pop songs that are ridiculed as being too simple or written without talent. Theme tunes from children's shows. Traditional rhymes and tongue-twisters. Most of these can be found via a long time on YouTube.
Music works in a unique way, worming its way into our minds. Our brains are hardwired to recognise and remember patterns - and music is made up of patterns. This is why we get songs stuck in our heads for no reason. Being able to use this to your advantage to learn or remember a new language can be an amazing experience.
7: Subtitles and language swap
This is a method which can be useful when you are learning more than one language, but are more familiar with one than the other.
It is where you watch / listen to a certain media in 1 language, while reading the subtitles / lyrics in another language. This way, the language you are more familiar with / fluent in will fill the gaps of understanding the less familiar one.
You can then challenge yourself by removing one language (muting the media & only reading the subtitles, or removing the subtitles and only listening to the provided audio) and seeing how well you follow along / understand.
This can also be used with your target language and your original language.
8: Writing it down
This is another form of repetitive learning which can be useful when studying / retaining for an exam, but can also be useful when you are first learning the written-to-verbal patterns of a language.
One method is longterm recall: this is where you write down short notes, words & phrases in your target language 1+ hour after engaging with your learning resources. This tests how much you retained. It is a physical show of how much you have actually learned.
Another method is short term recall & build-up: this is where you choose a single word / phrase, and write it as lines (Ducks are green and brown. Ducks are green and brown. Ducks are green and brown. Ducks are-) until your page is full. Then go back to the start and write over the top of your own writing, staying as close to your original marks as possible. Repeating this pattern multiple times until your page rips or the words become close to unreadable tricks your brain into focusing morenon your handwriting than on the language - as such, you will start to see the phrase / word as a pattern to follow, and it is then left to your subconscious mind to retain it while your conscious mind prioritises hand-eye coordination and fine motor skills.
9: Textbook
If you're more academically inclined, you may prefer a textbook method of study. This is the style used in most night classes and / or some traditional education classes.
Textbook methods have everything arranged by date and time, and learning goals are broken down & laid out according to a set calender: by x, you will have learned this amount, by y, you will have learned this amount, so on so forty until the final set date when you will be "fluent" or a certain level of reasonably fluent.
Most of the time with this method, you will be following guidelines, activities and lesson plans previously arranged in a chosen textbook, and that textbook will be your sole or primary resource.
10: Bilingual books (page by page)
Using page-by-page bilingual books can be confusing and is often overlooked in regards to adult education - however, it can be somewhat interesting to try.
On one page, the text will be written in your original language - on the opposite page, the same text will be repeated in your target language. Seeing the two side-by-side allows you to read your target language and instantly refer back to your original language if you get stuck on a word or phrase.
There is another form of bilingual books often given to children: line-by-line. These feature the image / picture, with the original text written clearly and simply, usually no more than 1 or 2 sentences per page. Directly underneath them will be the translated text written in a different font.
11: Same story / movie, different language
While this can be a fun method, it isn't always the most beneficial if you're looking for accuracy - however, it can be useful if you're wanting to test yourself.
It uses a similar logic to the subtitles & language swap method: you put on a movie you are familiar with, but you put it on in your target language with 0 subtitles. This allows you to engage with the language while using the familiar movie / story as a bridge.
12: Military Style
This is perhaps the most effective technique to use of you have a set amount of time to reach a specified level of understanding / fluency in a language. However, it is also one of the most difficult to fully replicate yourself.
Military style is a form of forced immersion combined with forced conversation and repetitive loops, but with reward and punishment techniques to make you prioritise learning the language over your own comfort zone / personal boundaries.
An example of this style would be party 1 having party 2 engage in forced conversation in front of an audience, then having them repeat a phrase they got wrong over and over until they get it right - all in front of the audience, with a rule set which forbids party 2 from sitting down or disengaging the interaction until they have finished the task. Nobody in the audience is allowed to help party 2. Party 1 continues to push party 2 outside of their comfort zone by having them continue the conversation, repeating any mistakes until they are corrected, and the conversation does not end until it is completed.
After that, party 2 has to do 100 push-ups while repeating the phrase they got wrong the most - and they have to pronounce it correctly while doing the push-ups. Any mistakes, and they go back to 1, regardless of if they were at 7 or 98.
This combined punishment of mild public humiliation and physically pushing their body beyond its limits makes the brain see learning the language as the solution to ending this treatment - as such, party 2 will be far less likely to repeat those mistakes again.
Alongside this, there is forced immersion, in the sense that nobody is allowed to speak their original language in any context or to anyone - they must use the target language or be ignored at best or ridiculed at worst.
Understandably, this method is difficult to replicate on your own or outside of the army.
However, there are some tokens which can be taken from it: notably forced repetition & physical exercise.
Set yourself a challenge using any of the previously mentioned learning methods or apps. Keep note of your mistakes.
At the end of the challenge (say 30 minutes of learning) count up all your mistakes. Now do a push-up / squat / pull-up / sit-up / etc for each mistake you made while repeating the phrase out loud. If you stall too long on making a connection in your mind or stumble over the sounds, start counting from 1 again. Repeat this until you're continuously getting the mistakes correct.
At the end, go back to your lesson and repeat it. Did you get less mistakes?
Thoughts & considerations when it comes to learning a language - for language savants and novices alike
"If you don't use it, you lose it" is probably one of the most hated phrases in terms of learning anything new - and especially in terms of learning a language. I think a better expression would be "If you don't make room for it, you won't keep it".
If you don't make time to learn a language, you won't learn it.
If you don't challenge yourself to reach a certain standard, you won't achieve any standard.
If you don't make the effort to retain the new information, you'll forget it.
When you learn a new language, you have to make room for it in your mind. You have to be willing to make mistakes and continue, knowing you're not doing it perfectly. You have to be willing to make it a priority, even if nobody else in your life sees it as one. You have to be willing to be frustrated and tired and bored. You have to be willing to get every single thing wrong and try again. You have to be willing to be uncomfortable with the new sounds you're making and you have to be willing to be patient while your brain digs out a new burrow of tunnels and connections which didn't previously exist.
If you genuinely want to learn a new language, you have to make room for it in your mind and life. Even when sometimes it's a tight fit.
Resources, as promised
Reading, writing & textbook materials:
Book 1
Book 2
Book 3
Book 4
Book 5
Structured notebook 1
Structured notebook 2
Structured notebook 3
Something worth checking out 1
Other things to invest in:
A dictionary in your target language
Picture cards
Flashcards
Stickers
Books in your target language
Children's books in your target language
Nursery rhyme books in your target language
Magazine subscriptions in your target language on a topic you find fascinating
Newspapers in your target language
Poetry in your target language
1 paid language learning app - a lot of the time, you get what you pay for. Not always, but usually.
Notebooks, stationary, etc
Headphones / earplugs
Media in your target language
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