#my arts been unpredictable lately too

[bea-stie]

redraw because cartoon now(plus an extra expression)

[moe-broey]

Petition to Stop the Passage of Time.

[tonycries]

The Way You Kiss Me - G.S.

Synopsis. The four times Satoru tries really hard not to kiss you - his best friend’s pretty younger sister. And the one time he doesn’t.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! Suguru’s sister! reader, childhood enemies to lovers, PINING Satoru, like really really disgustingly down bad, creampíe, oral (fem receiving), pússytalking, needy JEALOUS! Satoru, running away from it, spítting, punching is Suguru’s love language, mentions of aIcohol, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 7.4k (That’s wild)

A/N. BOO! Surprise upload. This was so fun to write omg.

“You sure this is how the grown-ups get married?”

“Duh, I know everything.”

“Nuh uh, Toru.”

“Yuh uh!”

The first time Gojo Satoru kissed you was underneath that dingy playground slide that the two of you always raced to after elementary school. 

Usually, your older brother, Suguru, would walk home alongside you two - but this time, he’d just so happened to have been held back for throwing paper planes at the teacher that day.

A sign from the universe, Satoru internally celebrated, something he’d learned from those sappy romance novels his mother left lying around the house. No matter that he was the one that made those planes.

You were six back then, standing in front of a determined Satoru - reaching up on his tip-toes, face pink, smelling of those cheap strawberry lollipops he’d sneak into class and taunt you with. At the much older and wiser age of seven, he’d insisted on being the first one to lean in.

Just barely even grazing your dramatically puckered lips before-

Satoru learned two things that fateful afternoon:

Even as a seven-year-old, Suguru’s punches really hurt. 

Never mess with you. Anyone but you. 

Life only seemed to go downhill from there - because that last lesson was proving to be hard along the years. Really. Fucking. Hard.

Little did Satoru know that this would be the start of some strange, unpredictable little dance of push and pull. No, you definitely weren’t his wife. Nor were you exactly best friends - not really, that spot was reserved for your brother. But you didn’t think you could ever be just that either.

And the punch that’d knocked his wobbly tooth out onto the playground floor that day was a painful reminder that whatever that was - whatever weird thoughts he had later in middle school about how you’d tasted like candy - didn’t matter. No matter how part some tucked-away little part of him wanted it to.

Hell, eleven years later and Satoru still can’t walk around that familiar block without feeling slightly queasy. Which is why, after that failed first kiss, he knew there wouldn’t be a second. 

Instead, he settles back to teasing your pouty self, pushing all your buttons, tugging on those cute dresses you wore. Face burning so strangely with- humiliation? when you bickered right back, calling his haircut a “tragic attempt at modern art.”

“So you’re saying I look like art?” A gangly, now-seventeen Satoru blocks the bustling high school hallway, ignoring the bell. Grin only growing at your frustrated huff, he half-jokes, “Aww, if you’re that soft on me, sweetheart, maybe we should go to prom tog-”

You slam your locker, effectively shutting both it and Satoru at the same time. “I’d rather go with Yaga.”

“...you would not.”

“Would to.”

“Would not.”

“Would to.”

“Would- Sugu–!”

And all Suguru can do is wrap two hands around his neck, mock-choking himself, wondering if it was really too late to embrace a quiet life as a monk. “You’ll both be MLA cited in my farewell note.”

He was used to it, though, forced to watch all this chaos since quickly mending his friendship with Satoru over ice cream the day after the punch. Convinced that this was some punishment for a past life’s misdeed.

With a squawk of protest, Satoru’s turning back to you, eyes crinkling with a hint of mischief you knew too well, “Would not.”

Your face burns, “Would to, Toru.”

You didn’t go with Yaga. but Satoru didn’t exactly count that as a win in his books, either, because you did show up that night hanging off the arm of some jerk from the football team. 

And there you were, all dolled up - which he very objectively noted - way too prettily for some bastard like him. Stars in your eyes, and everything he couldn’t have in that smile. 

Everything. 

Way too gorgeous, even when he finds you sitting outside the gymnasium later on in the night. Too busy bawling your mascara off to even throw out your usual greeting insult his way. Murmuring out wetly about “that asshole” and how he humiliated you by stranding you in the middle of the dance floor for someone else. 

“Well, he was a jerk anyway. Even Yaga would’ve been better, hell, I-” Satoru stops short to his horror at the way you only cry harder.

Way too irresistible, especially as his body moves before his mind - holding out an open hand before he knows it. “I’m a much better dancer than him and you.” And oh Satoru will forever remember the way his heart lurches as you blink your teary eyes up in confusion, “Well, aren’t ya gonna take up the challenge?”

Weirdly, it wasn’t weird at all. 

If anything, you had to hold back your laughter the entire time at the way the great “campus sweetheart” Gojo Satoru was so on edge.

Just a friend comforting a friend, right?

So why was he avoiding your gaze with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, summer blue eyes pointedly trained right over your head. That pretty pink blush dusting his cheeks reflecting the hands hovering in midair over your waist. So close - and yet, fear in each and every turn and swirl.

Yours were searing into his broad shoulders as you tried to guide him to the muffled music from inside. And shit.

That night ended with a second kiss. 

You don’t know who leaned in first, just that Satoru’s soft lips were just fleeting on your glossy ones - barely even a touch. And that shit shit shit- this was Satoru. This was you. 

Everything. 

But it seems that every time Satoru was about to kiss you dangerously close to the way some tiny, forbidden part of his heart wanted to - the universe throws an obstacle at him. An obstacle that was six feet and named “Suguru”, currently running at break-neck speed out of the gym.

“MOVE YOUR ASSES!” he cackles, “THE FOOTBALL TEAM ISN’T TOO HAPPY ABOUT ME BREAKING THEIR STAR PLAYER’S NOSE.”

And not a word is uttered about the kiss as the three of you speed out of the school parking lot in Suguru’s busted-up black hellcat, the wind mussing up the hairstyle that took Satoru over two hours to perfect. Sneaking in glances at the sight of you singing along at the top of your lungs to some overplayed pop song on the radio. 

He learns another two things that night:

Apparently, Suguru’s right hook still really fucking hurt. And thank god for tonight’s casualties of noses, because it was a wonder that he didn’t look too hard at how close Satoru was with you. 

He didn’t…dislike the feeling of your lips on his. And judging by the way you meet his eyes in the rearview mirror - you didn’t either.

It’s mainly that last one that makes him gulp.

Neither of you remember the third kiss - though, Satoru’s sure that at least 80% of Shoko’s instagram followers did.

According to a very hungover Shoko, and the many, many forms of documentation, it had happened on the New Year’s eve during your third year in university. In which you were much more used to the raging parties that would be hosted at Suguru’s apartment, and only slightly less intimidated by them.

“And you’re a lightweight too, dumbass. You were gone.” Shoko sighs from across the café table, eye bags deeper than the last time he’d seen her. “Like gone gone.”

God, what a way to start the year.

Satoru bites back a remark about how “gone” Shoko herself had been. Sitting up straight in his seat, regret immediately hitting his senses faster than the guilty throbbing at his temples. He winces, managing out a semi-disbelieving groan of, “Gone gone?”

And she’s only nodding wearily, subconsciously tapping out the rest of her cigarette ashes onto his untouched plate of sweet pastries. 

“I’m talking dancing on expensive coffee tables and fighting to stop you from giving everyone there a strip show.” She cracks a smirk through a waft of smoke, “Though, she would’ve loved that I’m sure.”

“Har har har, you’d make even Nanami laugh with that one.”

“Eugh, gross.” Shoko taps through her phone briefly, swirling it around to show Satoru a few pictures that definitely gave him a mini-heart attack at 8:57 in the morning. “You look like you’re about to pen really bad poetry.”

And perhaps this was Shoko’s plan all along - to shock Satoru to the core hard enough that she can note it down as one of her sketchy psychological experiments. 

But he knew. Could feel it in the hazy fragments of memories - or, at the very least, in that entire highlight that Nanamin had oh-so-conveniently put up on Instagram titled, “Blackmail.”

You knew. 

You’d kissed him back. 

“I don’t have a-.” you slur, stumbling ever-so-slightly as you try to meet Satoru’s glassy eyes. Because shit the years have had him shooting up faster than you could look up. “-a New Year’s kiss, y’know.”

You were older - more gorgeous, if that was even possible now. That tight dress hugging your body so unfairly in a way that had him forgetting you were his best friend’s sister. 

The one person in this whole world that he couldn’t have.

But Satoru leans in closer, more because he wants to than anything - he could pick out your voice anywhere let alone over the thumping music currently filling his crowded living room. Lips loose as he tries to play up the cool-guy facade he’s been dubbed with since freshman year, “Hah, loser. Because I do.”

“Where?”

At this, Satoru is stumped - damn, you were good. 

“Not- uh here?” If he was in any clearer state of mind, he’d have been embarrassed at the way his voice cracks so traitorously as your unsteady hands pull him in closer by his overpriced button-up. 

Your body was flush against his now, so addictive. Gaze half-lidded and flickering between the sliver of milky skin exposed on his chest - from that impromptu striptease he’d almost started earlier - and the blue eyes that were currently locked you. You whisper a strained, “Liar.”

Close - too close. So dangerously close.

He breathes out against your lips, the smell of booze and you so heady in his mind. And the heavy words falling from his lips sound like lies, even to him. “Not.”

“Toru?” you hum, a sound that has him gasping. “Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And there went your New Year’s kisses. At exactly 11:37PM, if the photos were anything to go by. 

And holy shit were there many. All of which showed your arms looped around Satoru’s neck, crashing his lips to yours. His own, resting against your waist, a scandalously red blush - whether from the alcohol or you - adorning his cheeks. Looking more blissed out than he ever remembers feeling. 

“I’m a dead man, Shoko.” 

There’s a lengthy silence, leaving Satoru stewing in thoughts of how Suguru would react once he finds out. And whether or not he’d be able to rise from the dead just to see how pretty you’d look at his funeral.

Morbid thoughts broken only by Shoko’s cough, “Hey, can I keep your eyes for experimentation if he actually catches you?”

Subtly, he sends himself those photos from last night.  

Luckily for Satoru’s eyes, they never ended up being donated towards Shoko’s questionable contributions to the world of medicine. 

And by some grace of the gods above, Suguru never mentioned a word about the kiss that would’ve inevitably made its way to him. Or maybe it was because Satoru stole his phone until he managed to pester Nanami just enough to take down that highlight. But, semantics. 

His heart, however, might as well have been part of some experiment.

Because it’s been working overdrive since that night - mind reliving that moment over and over and over and- shit, he’s fucked. So, so fucked. 

Fucked enough that it took Satoru months just to muster up to even look in your pretty eyes once more, unless he wanted to get lost in them forever. Fucked enough that he dared to wonder again and again when there might be a fourth kiss - if there would be a fourth kiss. 

He just never thought it would happen the way it did - with you, standing outside his front door. 

“I’m sorry, Toru.” you mumble, “It’s just- I think we both need to grow up.”

You’ve freshly graduated now, looking more and more irresistible each time he sees you - even when you’re looking at him like that. 

Rolling his eyes, “Ha, is this another way of saying you want my secret to getting taller? Because the first thing is to-”

“I’m serious, Satoru.”

And oh how he wished you’d say something - anything - else right now. Call him anything but that. Maybe even throw an insult his way, tell him those new sunglasses look ugly, or about how you got that internship he would’ve died for. 

Satoru manages to choke out a heavy, “I don’t understand.” But that uncomfortable coil of something curling at the pit of his stomach said otherwise. And it causes him to finally breathe out a hesitant, “Maybe you’re right.”

As if that was all the answer you needed, you’re stepping out of the front door. Slow, and deliberate like you were giving him another chance - a thousand more. Sighing out a defeated, “It’s been years.” It has. “And we’re just running in circles.” You have. “I’m starting to think this is just some game to you.” It wasn’t.

“Wait!” he grasps your hand - soft. The look in your eyes even softer as you turn around to face his desperate face. “Please, sweetheart.”

Satoru doesn’t even know what words he wants to say - let alone whether they’d come out of his heavy mouth. 

So, instead, he’s crashing them into yours. 

Brief. Fleeting. Like each one before this. Too addictive, too short, that he thinks he’s almost imagining it as you pull away gently, until he sees that look in your eyes. 

“Toru, I have a date.”

The fourth kiss.

Satoru’s letting go of you like it burned - and, truly, it felt like some deep, dark part of him was burning down right now. “Great.” That should be hm that should be him that should be- “I’m…happy for you.”

And the last.

He fucked up.

He really, really fucked up.

That first date turned into a second. The second into a third. And unfortunately for Gojo, eventually, you were nearing your one-year anniversary with that asshat you’d met during the early days of your internship. 

He’d seen the man himself once, briefly at another one of Suguru’s famous parties. Ducking out of sight before he could be introduced, yet long enough to know that he wasn’t as tall, or as handsome, or as absolutely fucking hilarious. 

What did he have that Satoru didn’t? 

The answer to that, Satoru’s reminded of every time he’s causing ruckus over at Suguru’s apartment, and sees you walking out of your room, tittering on the phone to none other than your boyfriend. So gorgeous. So not his. 

You, that loser had you.

“If you sigh again I swear I’m shoving this popcorn up your a-”

“It’s a sad movie, Suguru!” he defends, draped across your couch at another one of those movie nights you loved to organize. As usual, there was the popcorn, the god-awful movie (if Satoru picks it), and the arguments. The only thing missing, however, was you. Ugh, something about an “anniversary” and a “seafood date”. Seriously, it’s not like you even enjoyed that new seafood restaurant in town, and he’s sure that bastard didn’t know-

“Satoru.” his best friend’s deadpan voice cuts through his little reverie. “We’re watching Mean Girls.”

And he’s barely even opening his mouth to snark back before-

SLAM!

Suguru pauses the movie almost immediately, turning to the direction of the front door. “Uh oh.” 

And lo and behold - there was you in all your pissed off, beautiful glory. Throwing your keys on the table, your fiery glare passes over the two men as you stomp to your bedroom. 

“Seafood wasn’t that good, sweetheart?” Satoru calls out behind you, eyes sweeping down your figure. Heart stuttering in his chest when you turn around with your fists clenched, lower lip wobbling in a way that Satoru would both kill whoever made you feel this way and die to be on the other side of those daggers in your eye. 

Sniffing out an icy, “Fuck off, loser and loserette.”

Then in a whirlwind of rage, you’re gone - your bedroom door slamming only slightly more gently than you’d done with the front door. Leaving a deafening silence, and Satoru whining, “Why am I the loserette?”

“Deserved.” Suguru shrugs. Warily eyeing your door, as if it was about to pounce at any given second, “Let her cool down before you give her an aneurysm at least.” Unpausing the television, propping his feet back up, “S’enough having to deal with you on top of a boyfriend like that.”

And that has Satoru perking up in interest - both figuratively, and literally as he snatches the remote and pauses the movie. “Wait wait wait what-” Holding it way out of Suguru’s reach, “What do you mean a ‘boyfriend like that’?”

Scoffing, “Funny. Now give me back the remote.”

A beat of silence passes. One. Two.

Only then does it dawn on Suguru that this might just not be some strange prank to stroke Satoru’s ego, and he was actually  more serious than he’d ever seen him. Damn. 

“Bro, have you really never met the guy or something? He’s a complete tool. I don’t know what happened, but this breakup was a long time coming.”

Satoru blinks, feeling a red hot surge of anger. “What? Seriously? Why didn’t you do anything about it?”

“You think I didn’t try?” he sighs, running a hand through his hair at the other’s uncharacteristic silence. “Hah, and just imagine, the man was talking about marriage, too. As if.”

And suddenly, Satoru’s hit with an image of you walking down the aisle. Not something he was a stranger to, but it still takes him aback. The sway of the fabric beneath his fingers, your lips against his. Hell, in that split-second he even dreams up how Nanamin would be crying very reluctant tears of joy. 

Everything. Everything that wasn’t his.

His fist tightens around the remote, until he could hear the cracking of plastic. Mind whirling with the thought of you and him and you. How he wished it was him and you. “I would’ve been better.”

Oh. 

Shit. 

“I- fuck this. Suguru, since elementary school I…”

And, well, Satoru’s so busy putting that extra physics seminar he took in university to work - trying to calculate the odds of surviving a jump out of this seven-storey window - that he almost misses Suguru’s low hum, a distant, almost barely-audible little interruption, “Well duh.”

“Hold on.” he’s snatching away the remote that had somehow slithered its way into the other’s hands once again. Ignoring his best friend’s croak of protests to pause in the middle of Regina George being hit by the bus - which, he felt was strangely enviable right now. “That was- what? YOU KNOW?”

“Huh? Even my parents know, the only one that doesn’t is her.”

“...”

Satoru didn’t know how Suguru seemed so calm, but he felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. Heart stuttering in his chest as he sideglances at your firmly shut door - like he was just waiting for you to jump out and tell him this was some elaborate prank. 

Begging for you to come - it would’ve hurt less.

But you don’t.

Fuck. 

And the only response he gets is a low whistle, before a phone is being shoved in his face - flashlight illuminating that crimson blush. “Damn, the great Gojo Satoru speechless? The groupchat is gonna love this, might even send it to my sister, y’know.” 

He didn’t care - didn’t give a shit if this video made rounds to Gakuganji himself. Only one thought racing through his mind right now. 

“But why aren’t you punching me like in elementary school?” 

And Satoru knows he’s smart - intelligent even. Hell, he was the valedictorian, the youngest employee to claw their way up to being on the board of directors. But he’s never felt more stupid when Suguru breathes out a bewildered, “Dude. That was for blaming me for the paper planes.” 

“Oh.”

Then the movie is unpaused. 

---

The last time you kissed Gojo Satoru was at the doorstep to that overpriced penthouse of his, exactly a year ago today. 

The last time you saw Gojo Satoru was just a few hours ago, lounging around your living room like he owned it. Honestly, he might as well have been part of the furniture at this point - like some expensive, fluffy couch. One that prattled on about your “dumbass boyfriend” and god-knows-what else to rile you up just for the fun of it.

Which is why it was odd to step out of your bedroom - eyes just a bit puffy, throat still tight - to a suspiciously quiet hallway. 

The lights were turned off, nothing but the pouring rain sounding from outside, television paused on some rerun of The Princess Diaries. Damn, you told those idiots not to start that one without you.

“Sugu?” you call, finding his bedroom empty. “Thought tonight was movie night?” Padding across the empty apartment, contemplating whether or not to get your phone and call him when-

Ding!

Ah, there. 

You roll your eyes as you head towards the front door, ready to give Suguru a piece of his mind for going out at this ungodly hour and forgetting his key. Seriously, what if you opened the door and he was hurt, or worse, or…

Satoru. 

Speaking a mile a minute.

Satoru.

“-florist was closed and the store clerk looked at me like I was crazy but I got this for-” he pauses abruptly, as if realizing something with a jolt. “-you.”

“You- what-” you don’t know where to look - at the drenched, disheveled Satoru filling your doorframe - rain in his hair, curtaining his frantic eyes, drenching his snug t-shirt. Or at the obscenely large bouquet of cheap strawberry lollipops being placed gently into your arms. 

What follows was an electric silence - and you have half the mind to tease Satoru for finally shutting the fuck up for once in his life. 

But, no. Instead, you eye the way he stands stubbornly at the doorway, fists clenched, blue eyes locked so intensely on yours that it was like they burned. 

Face flushed a familiar pretty pink that makes you realize that shit, he might be taller, voice deeper, broad shoulders tight against his t-shirt - but this was still the same boy that cried when you stole his favorite Digimon card in middle school. The same one that kissed you underneath a dingy slide, smelling of strawberry lollipops.

It’s the steady tap! tap! tap! of the water droplets from his hair that have you tearing your traitorous eyes from his see-through white t-shirt.

Guess you’ve both done some growing up since then.

“You loser.”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

The pink wrapping of the bouquet rustles as your grip tightens. “He proposed to me today, y’know.” and yet, your quiet, even voice was the only thing ringing in Satoru’s ears. He jolts, as if some visceral, primal part of himself had been poked awake. Breathing heavy, fists clenching until he could feel the neat indents of his fingernails on his palm. Of course. He’s late. He’s late he’s late he’s late-

That is, until you’re plowing on, “I said no.”

“Huh?”

You think back to the stuffy restaurant, the man sitting from across from you - how wrong it felt. And all it took were those four words for you to realize that. “I said no.” 

Satoru snaps his head up, stepping close - so close. Voice strained like he wasn’t asking - begging. Praying, “Why?”

“We…” you raise a brow at the way Satoru flinches as you trail off. So desperate. A smirk makes its way onto your face, “...we haven’t divorced yet, right?”

And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you. 

Fuck, you don’t know - nor do you really care right now. Not when Satoru’s got his lips crashing against yours for the fifth time in your life, kissing you like it would be the last. Big arms dipping down to your waist, pulling you so tight against his muscled frame that he had half the mind to wonder whether it hurt. 

“Love this. Love the way you kiss me- fuck-” he’s spitting against your lips, kicking the door shut behind him. “Oh- would ya get mad if I-” he tries to get out through kisses. Only to suck on your pretty lips with a pained grunt. “If I-” Again and again, like it killed him to part. “-hah- celebrated right now?”

“Yes.” You’re letting the bouquet fall to the foor, white-knuckling that useless, drenched excuse of a shirt. “Now kiss me properly, Toru.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Such a sloppy mix of teeth and hands and him. Shoving a knee between your legs, making up for years and years of late nights with nothing but his fist and the pretty thought of you. 

“Yeah, that’s it, sweetheart.” Satoru breathes out, as your urgent fingers that dispose of his shirt, feeling the gorgeous dips and curves of years of hard work to impress you. “Suck on m’tongue pretty- fuck-” His own fisting your shirt, pulling. Ripping.

“Toru!”

“I want you.” He’s letting the poor, tattered pieces drop in a pile on the floor, trailing a hand between your damp thighs before he can stop himself. “Oh how I’ve wanted you. And I don’t care if I have to buy fifty new outfits to make up for it.”

And it’s the feeling of his long index stroking up your sopping slit through your shorts that has you pulling away with a gasp. Delicate little strings of saliva snapping from Satoru’s kiss-bitten lips. “If we continue like this…” your voice wavers as he presses hot kisses along your collarbone. “-my brother’s gonna walk in.”

“...wouldn’t wanna relive that playground kiss, huh?”

It’s all he says before picking you up so easily, hands resting on your ass. Giving a playful spank ass you wrap your legs around his toned waist. 

And it’s sloppy.

Both his lips still hotly on yours and the way he’s stumbling urgently to your room through pure muscle memory. Pulling away only when you’re all splayed out so prettily for him on your mattress.

“Blue?” he breathes, pulling your shorts off. And it comes out strained - like the very sight of your panties - all soaked and flimsy with your slick - has whatever’s remaining of Satoru’s sanity flying out the window. “Blue? Oh, you’ve gotta have planned this, you little minx.” his hot breath hits your cunt as he shifts down the bed, tongue drawing languid, wet little circles on your inner thigh. “Because don’t tell me this was all for him?”

It was coincidence - or maybe fate - but that doesn’t stop you from giving Satoru a slow, teasing nod. Muttering out, “So what if it was?”

The only answer you get is thumb hooked around your shorts, pulling it just enough so that your brother’s best friend can spy your pretty pussy.

“Well then.” he chuckles at the way you jump when his fingertip just barely grazes your clit. “Guess I jus’ hafta prove m’better.”

A low groan is falling from his lips as soon as they meet your puffy ones, giving your pretty clit a chaste peck. Lingering long enough that he’s sure your sweet sweet juices cover his mouth.

And oh Satoru’s sure he’ll never forget the way your jaw falls slack, glassy eyes following his every move as he runs his tongue along his glossy lips. Savoring your candied taste, “Never kissed you like this before, huh?” 

Fuck, you’re sweeter than he’s imagined.

You whine desperately, something that has him smirking smugly, “Hah, what? Cat got your tongue?”

“You’re better when you shut up.” It’s all you can do to buck your hips into Satoru’s pretty face - not that you had to, because one taste of your dripping cunt and he was addicted. Surging forwards until he was nose-deep, locking your ankles around his head with a firm yank.

And you can’t lie - maybe you’ve imagined this exact scene a few times before on those lonely nights. But you just never expected Satoru to be so depraved. Desperate.

“Ngh- fuck, Toru-” you reach a hand down to thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his face up. But Satoru doesn’t stop - not even for a second. Tongue still dipping to spread your swollen folds with his tongue, looking you right in the eyes as he murmurs a strangled, “Mhm?” 

“Thought you were gonna prove you’re better, hm?”

So goading. So like you. 

At this, Satoru pulls back ever-so-slightly to laugh - laugh. His plump, glistening lips curling into a humorless little grin, “Oh I will.” Thumb circling your throbbing clit. Just dragging your twitching body across the silky sheets close to his, one hand pinning your hips down. Hard. “I will.”

Loving his new favorite place between your legs one hand toys with your clit, quick, messy little patterns. Tongue even more so. 

“Not just better.” he grunts, “Gonna make you cum so much harder, too.” Having your thighs shake with each word hissed out into your cunt, each turn of his deft fingers. “Till I’m the only thing on your mind. Me.”

And it’s all you can do to let out choked up groans of his name, back arching off the plush mattress to let him make out with your cunt deeper. Sloppier. So, so starved with the way he’s speeding up, tongue dragging across your walls. In and out in and out in and-

“Fuck! Hngh-” you angle his head - and he lets you. “There- Toru-”

Honestly, you didn’t even have to tell Satoru - he could feel it. Could feel it in the way your plushy walls are squeezing his hot tongue so harsh, until it was almost difficult to fuck your pussy so sloppily. In the way you’re letting out such delicious whines each time he grazes against those sweet spots. 

“There? Hah- I know.” he pulls away to muse, and your cute, disappointed whine goes straight to his already rock-hard cock. “Did he?”

He didn’t. And you’re shaking your head so pathetically - in a way you’d be embarrassed about usually. 

But that’s the last thing you’re thinking bout because you feel it - the cold, sinful feeling of Satoru spitting on your filthy cunt. Once. Twice. Blue eyes widening in delight at the way the mess of spit and slick drip down your slit. 

“Cute.” his tongue smoothes over the slutty pool, and the only thing your delirious brain can make out now is a low moan of, “So? Who’s better?”

It’s all you can do to choke out a broken little, “T-T-” Face burning at the way he was so clearly enjoying your struggle. And, well, no matter painfully hard it made his dick - he had to go just a bit easy on his girl, right?

“Shhhh, s’alright.” you flinch as he shoves two absolutely drenched fingers into your mouth, making so much more of a mess of it than necessary. Drinking in your cute gags, “I was asking her.” He’s making your head spin with the way he’s speeding up. “N’ she’s hah- very talkative.” Words muffled, and slurring together - like he was drunk off of you and your cunt. “Let’s hear what she has to ngh- say, huh?”

And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and squeezing into your sloppy entrance - like he couldn’t - didn’t - want to make up his mind. Oh, with your teary mewls strangled, the sound of Satoru making out with cunt is so loud. The squelches so obscene. 

“Fuuuuck.” he drawls. “Louder than I thought. I think she says I’m better, don’t you think?” 

You angle your head just right to catch the way his jaw grinds deeper into you, eating you out like his last meal. Your slick drooling down his chin so sinfully. 

“Ngh- fuck fuck fuck- ngh-” your yelps are dreamy, feeling like you were losing your mind with the way he was stretching you out. 

Like you were about to snap. Any second now. 

But Satoru’s only increasing his movements, drawing out your little moans. “And I think she’s saying…”  Getting sloppier. More erratic - and it didn’t matter if his fingers were cramping up now, cock aching with the need to be inside you. “-that she’s about to cum.”

You do - so hard and loud - both you and your cunt. 

You’re shaking, all but gushing all over Satoru’s mouth, tight pussy squeezing his tongue so hard. Barely even realizing the searing grip you’ve got on his hair as you drag your sloppy pussy all over his mouth.

But Satoru doesn’t mind - he gladly welcomes it, in fact. Tonguefucking your snug cunt senselessly, letting you chase your high as roughly as you wanted. Over and over.

Even when you’re vision isn’t as spotty as before, even when nothing’s coming out of your mouth but little whimpers. Your breathing dying down until all that rings in your barely-lucid mind were those obscene noises of Satoru’s lips all on yours. 

“T-Toru-” you whine, big fat tears pricking at your hazy eyes. “M’so sensitive.”

And of course this is Satoru, the same boy who’s been pushing your buttons for years just to giggle at your adorable reactions. Which is why he grins against your twitching cunt, “So?”

It takes everything in you to raise your head off the pillow that just seemed to be swallowing you whole, and even more to shoot Satoru a half-hearted glare. “So m’gonna ngh- assume you’re jus’ a pussy with a s-smaller dick than-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence - he doesn’t let you. Because Satoru’s fumbling with his belt, peeling off those still-drenched pants just enough for you to admire his clothed erection. 

And, shit, admittedly you expected him to have a big dick - having been subjected to way too much locker room talk with your brother - but this was ridiculous. 

“What? Too big?” He flashes you that infuriating grin. Palming his rock-hard cock through his boxers at the way your beautiful eyes trace the outline of his cock, all swollen and big. So intimidatingly big. “Damn, sweetheart, if I knew that this was how I’d get that feisty lil’ mouth of yours to shut up then I’d have done it a lot sooner.” 

And you don’t even know if you’re breathing, the pads of your fingers dancing along his bulge. Tracing those prominent veins. Thumbing that little damp spot at his fat head. “You wouldn’t have.” 

He hisses as your soft hands dip into the hem of his underwear. Voice cracking slightly, “I wouldn’t.”

Then you’re gasping - in sync with Satoru’s low moan - as you finally let him spring free. Thick cock hitting his sculpted abs, red tip smearing precum in a lewd little pool. Weeping and so so angry at the sight of you.

At the heavenly feeling of your thumb teasing under his sensitive slit, “Oh, shit.” 

He’s throwing his head back when you give an experimental pump, all the way from his pretty tip to the tufts fo white at his hilt. Fist gliding all over the thumping veins. Bucking his hips up like such a slut into your touch. 

“O-oh fuck.” he cracks an eye open at the way your hand looked so small compared to his dick, how well you were taking care of him. “Been ngh- dreaming of this since I learned what handjobs were, y’know? Hah- shit- ya gotta stop before I fuckin’ pass out.”

And Satoru thinks he could cum right then and there at the way you’re bringing your soaked index up to your mouth. Batting your lashes as you suck on them with a lewd pop! “From jus’ that?”

“You have no idea.”

That’s all it takes for Satoru to throw your still-quivering thighs over his shoulders, effectively shutting up whatever tease is on the tip of your sharp tongue by kissing your swollen folds with his fat head. Giving it one, long drag. 

Your mouth is sagging open at the slow, torturous teasing. The sheer anticipation that had your mouth running, “S-so much for ah- jus’ being ‘friends’, huh?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” And you’re flinching from Satoru’s deep, dark tone. The way he’s bracing his fingers so bruisingly on your hips, reeling all the way back till his tip was just kissing your hole. “We stopped being friends the day you married me on that playground.” 

And then he’s slamming in - pushing past that first, feeble ring of resistance, gummy walls stretching out so perfectly for him. As if he fit right in - and he tells you that. Pants it into your open mouth a little over fifteen times, in fact. 

“Shiiiit, look at you.” he can’t tear his eyes away from the side of your lips stretching so wide to try and milk him. Sloppy entrance stretching out like magic. “S’like you’re made for me, huh? This pussy is made f’me?”

“Ngh- fuck, Toru! S’too big-” you keen, feet flattening on the mattress. As if to escape. To maybe fucking breathe.  

Not even half-way in yet, but aleady torn between pushing away and sinking yourself down on his swollen cock for more more more-

“Don’t you dare run away.” he warns, looking up at you through his long lashes. “I’ve waited too long for this. N’ you’re not taking this pretty pussy away any time soon.” Inch by fucking inch. Grinding in short, sharps jabs - no rhythm of rhyme, like they were genuinely out of control. “Way too f-fuckin’-” All the way until your puffy folds was meeting his hilt. Finally. All the way in. “-long.”

And once Satoru had you split apart on his dick - had those tears rolling down your cheeks, cunt swallowing him so sluttily - it’s like something snaps. 

Because he doesn’t waste a second - he’s already wasted almost two decades, anyway - filling you up with his mean hips. Not fucking easing you into it because you always did bring out that part of him, the part that him looping two strong arms around your waist. Pulling. 

“Oh- f-fuck c’mere.” Satoru gasps, pressing your body so crushingly against his. Kissing your shaky shoulers, your sweaty forehead, the gentleness so contrasting to his hips.“God I’ve missed out- fuck fuck fuck-” 

You’ve never seen the great Gojo Satoru - campus sex symbol - so uncomposed. Eyes half-lidded, just boring into yours, mouth slack in a soft oh! as he drags his cock all over inside your gummy walls. And the sight is so heavenly that you make the mistake the mistake of cracking a minute smile.

Just barely curling your lips before - “Don’t smile at me like that.” He’s dipping down a hand to roll your ravaged clit between two bullying fingers. “Fuck, she’s gonna be the death of me. Right?”

You keen at the- stimulation? The strech? The sheer embarrassment as you realize that Satou’s still talking to your sloppy pussy? Nodding so mockingly up at you as he plows on, “Mhm, she says you needa be ngh- knocked down a god, you’re tight- peg or two. So- get- ready-” 

He’s using this as an excuse to sit up on his knees, dragging you onto his lap so easily like some ragdoll. 

“That’s more like it.”

You’re sliding deeper down his painfully hard cock - all the way till his heavy balls rest beneath your ass, clit rubbing against his pelvis every time he bounces you like some slut.  

Deep. Ruthless.

“Keep your eyes open, sweetheart.” He chuckles, and you’re screwing open your eyes that you don’t even remember shutting. Trying so hard to stop crying out at the feeling of the curve of his dick massaging your walls. “Ya gotta hngh- see the o-only one who’d fuckin’ you properly, right?”

You squeal when he’s taking your clit captive once more. Finger quick, deft. “Y-yes.”

But that wasn’t enough for Satoru - it might as well never be. Because he’s only ramming his hips up further. Like he’s pushing into your stomach, your lungs, all the way into your cockdrunk brain. Fat head alternating between kissing your poor, abused cervix and all those sweet spots he’d mapped out with his tongue.

“Sounded unsure to me.” he’s pouty against your hardened nipples bouncing enticingly in his face. Fingers quirking faster on your clit, “Maybe I should ngh- stop then?”

“No!” Your hips stutter against Satoru’s. Nails clawing down the sculpted panes of his shoulders, leaving red angry marks for him to take as a sign tomorrow morning that no, it wasn’t just one of his dreams this time. “No no no- m’sure. You’re the only one makin’ me feel this way.”

You can feel the way he’s twitching wildly at your words, dick thumping harder inside your sensitive cunt. 

He punctures each word with a heavy, calculated thrust. Hand stretching and squeezing open your cunt from behind to let him slide impossibly deeper. “Hmmm, I’m not convinced.” 

Your stupid mouth is only capable of letting out broken, choked-up little moans of his name, ankles locking around those dimples at the end of his spine. “S’you–”

“Still not convinced.”

But he’s still speeding up his movements, just dragging you up and down his cock. “Who else made you hah- feel this good?” Sure to claim you from the inside out - to leave marks everywhere. Heavy balls on your ass, weeping tip on your cervix, lips bruised as you whimper at his murmured, “That ex of yours?” Biting down your neck, “That barista that always flirts with you?” Pulling away only to breathe into your lips, “Who?”

“ I- fuck it’s only you, Toru.”

“Sound convincing to you?” Satoru hums down at your cunt, biting his lower lip at the way you were milking him so good. Your slick soaking him all the way down to his balls - so needy in a way he never thought he’d see. “Yeah-” be breathes, nosing at your neck. “She agrees- fuck does this tight lil’ pussy of yours agree.” A few tears, a few gorgeous marks down his back, and he was finally convinced. “You’re mine.”

You don’t even realize it when you’re cumming, and Satoru doesn’t either.

Both of you too caught up in each other to recognize that familiar, white-hot pleasure running down your spine - all the way down to where he was so mercilessly buried in your cunt.  

And you’re well into the blood roaring deafeningly in your ears, the sight of Satoru - all wrecked - blurring as he fucks his hips up. Harsh. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he paints your quivering walls white. 

Cumming and cumming so hard that you can feel his seed dribbling down your thighs, making such a mess all over Satoru’s lap. Your poor, overfilled cunt soon bloated and unable to keep up with it.

“Toru–” you whine, like a prayer. Milking the fucking soul out of him while he gently paws at your messy hair.

“Shhh, I know I know, sweetheart.” Such a stark contrast to the way he was filling you up like his favorite sex toy. Not even bothering to move anymore, one hand on your hip, moving your limp body up and down his sensitive cock to fuck it deeper. The other still playing with your clit, “S’alright, my girl”

Satoru’s hands never leave you, and he prays that now that he got a taste - well, you better be alright with them not leaving you for as long as he lives.

“As long as you live, huh?” you chuckle groggily, a noise so dreamy that Satoru can’t even be mad that he said it out loud. “And all that riling me up these years. Do you have a degradation kink or something?”

“Well, only one way to find out~”

“Oh shut up you-”

SLAM!

“Yooo, I bought dinner from that- WHAT THE FUCK?”

There were only two more lessons to be learned:

Always lock the door. Always. And in case you don’t, a bouquet of lollipops will do the trick to a Suguru reeling from the newest addition to the family. 

Cheap takeout tastes better with an apologetic Suguru, and an ice pack to his cheek - and you to kiss it better.

A/N. Can you tell I kept listening to that one Artemas song while writing this?

Plagiarism not authorized.

[hoshifighting]

Ways to Have a Man in the Palm of Your Hand.

— Synopsis: In the flow of uncertainty that defined your situationship with Mingyu, you decide to take action, making Mingyu start chasing after you like a loyal puppy. — WC: 3.9k — WARNINGS: Smut, unprotected sex, overstimulation, degradation, begging on knees, oral (f. receiving), fingering– he watches reader fingering herself, handjob, dick riding, penetrative sex, humiliating, manipulation and etc.

Your life connected with Mingyu's since you both first met through your groups of friends, and a situationship had emerged between you two. It was just sex, with no strings attached and no promises made.

Yet, as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, it became challenging to keep your heart safe from the unpredictable tides of emotion.

Mingyu had a way of making you feel special. He'd surprise you with homemade dinners, he was attentive, considerate, and made sure to put your self-esteem on the highest with his skillful photography.

The tall and good-looking guy wasn't just amazing during sex; he was an enigma that both fascinated and frustrated you. Mingyu could vanish for days, leaving you on blue. But just as you were about to write him off, he'd resurface, as if nothing had happened. It was a maddening cycle, and yet, you found yourself caught in its web.

Mingyu: Hey! Been swamped asf with work lately. Let's grab coffee or something stronger soon? Let me know when you're free!

You couldn't help but scoff as you read Mingyu's message. His casual tone and nonchalant invitation stirred a mix of irritation and amusement within you. Swiftly typing a response, you questioned his unpredictable appearances.

You: Are you planning on always popping up out of nowhere like this?

Mingyu: I always come back, don't I? So, when are we catching up darling?

Despite the inner conflict and your ego's warning signals, there was an undeniable allure to Mingyu's charm. His words, laced with playfulness, had a magnetic effect that bypassed rational thoughts. With a sigh, you found yourself succumbing to the familiar pull.

The room was filled with the echoes of skin slapping as you both lay on Mingyu's bed, your eyes locked as you two moaned out loud, the crescendo of pleasure punctuated by the rhythmic thud of the bed against the wall.

Mingyu lays beside you, the heat of the moment still lingering between your bodies. You rose from the tangled sheets, picking up your scattered clothes. Mingyu's gaze remained fixed on you, an intensity that betrayed a deeper connection than the situationship allowed. 

"I really like spending time with you Y/N" 

"Me too Gyu." 

[...]

Seungkwan leaned in "Okay, spill. What's the latest drama with Mingyu?"

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Honestly, I can't figure him out. It's like a cycle. We talk every day for a month, hang out, fuck, and then poof! He disappears for a week or more. I don't get it."

Seungkwan chuckled knowingly. "You know, maybe you should try something. Do the same to him, but take it up a notch. Make him miss you even more."

You furrowed your eyebrows, slightly taken aback. "Seungkwan, I'm not into playing games or being spiteful. It's not my style."

He waved his hand dismissively. "No, no, hear me out. It's not about being spiteful. It's about making him realize what he's missing. Mingyu knows you'll always be there, right? So, he takes it for granted. Maybe he needs a taste of his own medicine."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued but cautious. "And how exactly do I do that?"

Your mouth hung open as Seungkwan delivered his comprehensive lesson in the art of emotional tactics. The confidence in his advice left you both amazed and slightly apprehensive. Unable to contain your curiosity any longer, you finally asked the burning question.

"How on earth do you know all of this, Seungkwan?" you inquired, eyes wide with disbelief.

Seungkwan leaned back, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, my dear friend, when you've been in the game as long as I have and witnessed enough romantic dramas unfold, you start picking up on patterns. It's like a survival guide for the heart."

You raised an eyebrow, still processing the information. "Survival guide, huh? And all this contempt, playing hard to get, and hurting egos – that's your secret weapon?"

Seungkwan chuckled, "Not a secret weapon, sometimes, a little strategic move can make all the difference. Trust me, I've seen it all."

With Seungkwan's advice resonating in your mind like a strategic playbook, you approached the next phase of your relationship with Mingyu, with a newfound determination. It felt like diving into a complex homework assignment, each step carefully calculated to shift the dynamics in your favor.

As you decided to implement the first step, a newfound sense of liberation washed over you. You stopped responding to Mingyu's messages immediately and resisted the urge to initiate contact. It felt strange at first, but there was a sense of power in reclaiming your time and not being at his beck and call. Mingyu's messages awaited your attention. 

The challenge of making Mingyu realize he could lose you sparked a newfound determination. Your calendar filled up with plans that didn't involve Mingyu. Mingyu, accustomed to your constant availability, seemed to sense the change, though he couldn't quite pinpoint it. He might have been the object of desire for many hoes, but your indifference challenged his accustomed narrative. 

After all, a man is not more important than your personal goals, right?

All while allowing Mingyu to observe your life unfolding without him. The realization that you were not waiting by the phone for him sparked a large curiosity.

Throughout the process, a mix of emotions surfaced. Doubt, at times, whispered in the back of your mind – was this the right approach? Seungkwan's advice, unconventional as it was, had brought a shift in Mingyu's behavior. Now, you wondered how Mingyu would respond to the transformed version of you – a person who refused to be taken for granted.

Mingyu's relentless messages flooded your phone. The janitor, a silent witness to the unfolding drama, discreetly shared the news of Mingyu's visits to your condominium entrance. Three times he had appeared, seeking a glimpse of you, only to be met with the absence of your presence, the deliberate distance, and the air of indifference were beginning to provoke a reaction from him.

You were determined to see this journey through, to understand whether Mingyu's renewed interest was genuine or a fleeting reaction to the perceived loss of control.

The persistent pings of Mingyu's messages had become a constant background noise in your life, infiltrating your workdays and even interrupting the serene moments of your brunches.

"Free today, Ms. Busy?"

"Pls respond to me. :(("

"Why are you acting like this?"

"Wtf…"

"Omggg, when are you going to answer me properly?"

"I'll invade your house."

"Y/N-ieeee, pleaseee!"

"I really want to see you right now."

"You make me so confused :("

The encounter at the pedestrian crossing unfolded in a scene of unexpected tension. Mingyu, spotting you in the midst of your Sunday morning run with Seungkwan, seized the opportunity to bridge the gap that had grown between you. As you halted, waiting for the light to change, Mingyu approached, a mixture of eagerness and confusion etched across his face.

"Hey there! Fancy meeting you here," Mingyu greeted, attempting to strike up a conversation.

Seungkwan, standing beside you, looked on with a side-eyed glance, a smirk playing on his lips as he sipped casually from his water bottle. As the pedestrian light shifted to green, you seized the moment to extricate yourself from the short encounter. "Sorry, Mingyu, I really need to finish my morning walk. Catch you later," you excused yourself, leaving Mingyu standing there, perplexed and surrounded by the bustling activity of the street.

He couldn't shake off the confusion – Why weren't you responding as before? Why weren't you as available as you used to be? Did you at least still like him? It dawned on Mingyu that the game had changed, and he wasn't sure if he understood the rules anymore. The pursuit, once fueled by the expectation of your constant availability, now seemed to slip through his fingers like grains of sand. The reality of being just one among the many who sought your attention was a bitter pill to swallow.

[...]

The doorbell's unexpected chime disrupted the tranquility of your self-care routine, with moisturized skin and a mind ready for a cozy movie night, you approached the door, curiosity dancing in your eyes.

As you swung the door open, the sulky face of Mingyu greeted you. A momentary pause hung in the air, your eyes meeting his in silent expectation. Before you could utter a word, Mingyu stepped inside, dropping to his knees and hugging your legs as if seeking solace.

Surprised by his sudden display of vulnerability, you widen your eyes, caught off guard by the intensity of his reaction. The door lingered ajar, and you managed to close it, arms crossed, a mixture of confusion and caution etched on your face.

Mingyu, still hugging your legs, looked up at you with pleading eyes, his voice laden with remorse. "What did I do, Y/N? Why are you treating me like this? I'm sorry."

"Hm?"

He looked up at you, his eyes brimming with a mix of confusion and regret. "I just… I don' understand. I miss you," he admitted, his voice trailing off.

Your initial surprise transformed into a mix of emotions – disbelief, a hint of empathy, and the need to assert your newfound boundaries. Crossed arms and a measured gaze met Mingyu's desperate expression. The sudden intrusion into your personal space prompted a silent assessment of the situation.

"What did you expect, Mingyu?" you countered, your voice steady but laced with the weight of unspoken questions. "You disappear, then reappear, and now you're kneeling in my living room. What's going on?"

"I messed up, okay? I thought I could keep things casual, but I didn't expect to feel like this. I miss the way things used to be between us." he confessed, his voice carrying a raw honesty.

"You ask me to come to your house, and then after you get what you wanted, you let me go. Do I look like a food delivery or something?" you confronted Mingyu, your words cutting through the charged silence that hung in the room.

Mingyu's eyes widened at your accusation, shock and a hint of hurt registering on his face. "No, no, no, Y/N, it wasn't like that."

You raised an eyebrow, a mix of skepticism and frustration evident in your expression. "It feels like you only want me around when it's convenient for you."

Mingyu, still on his knees, looked up at you, his eyes pleading for understanding. "It's not like that. I just... I didn't want to push you. I thought you preferred it this way."

You sighed, the weight of the unresolved tension palpable. "Mingyu, I can't read your mind. If you want me to stay, you have to say it. Communication goes both ways."

"Y/N, I'm truly sorry. I'll do whatever you want. I didn't see you as just a fleeting thing, and I want to be present."

Mingyu's earnest apology hung in the air, a plea for understanding and a promise to change. As he laid his face on your bare thighs, expressing his sincere regret, you cut through the moment with a tsk sound, a dismissive gesture that left him wide-eyed and caught off guard.

"Poor boy, begging on his knees for attention. What a shame," you remarked, a hint of teasing in your voice as you observed his reaction.

Mingyu, his hands now gripping each side of your thighs, sat back on his feet, his expression a mix of surprise and a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. He hadn't anticipated this response, your playful teasing catching him off guard.

"You didn't see me as a fleeting thing?" you continued, your tone mockingly contemplative. "Well, Mingyu, this is quite a sight – you, on your knees, practically begging for my attention. I'd never do something like this."

His widened eyes met yours, uncertainty and a trace of embarrassment flickering in them. Mingyu's bit his lip, cheeks flushing deeper.

"I'll do whatever you want, Y/N. Just tell me," Mingyu replied, his hands still holding your thighs.

You let out a soft chuckle, running a hand through his hair as you continued your teasing. "Oh, Mingyu-ah, the mighty one on his knees. Maybe you'll learn to appreciate what you have when it's not handed to you on a silver platter. Now, let's see if you can keep up with your promises."

As you spoke, Mingyu's cheeks continued to flush, a complex dance of emotions playing out on his face.  "How can you forgive me?" 

Mingyu's question hung in the air, a genuine plea for forgiveness. You paused, considering the weight of his words, before adopting a more serious tone.

"Get up," you instructed him, your voice carrying a command that seemed to catch him off guard.

Mingyu, without hesitation, rose to his feet from his submissive position. His eyes fixed on you. An arched eyebrow and a smirk played on your face, savoring the moment of dominance as you instructed him to follow you.

The atmosphere grew charged with anticipation as Mingyu attentively trailed behind you, his eyes inevitably drawn to your body covered only by a shirt. The click of your bedroom door signaled a shift in the dynamics, and when you turned to face him, his eagerness manifested in an attempted kiss.

Your finger halted his advance, a calculated pause preceding your question, "Do you think you deserve to kiss me?"

Mingyu, his eyes reflecting a mix of longing and remorse, shook his head no. Your smirk deepened as you delivered a verdict that left him whimpering.

"Then you won't kiss me today."

A whimper escaped Mingyu's lips, a sound that echoed the frustration and desire that simmered beneath the surface. The unexpected turn of events had left him yearning for a connection, yet you, in your assertive control, denied him that solace.

As the tension hung in the air, Mingyu's eyes glistened with unshed tears. The dynamics between you had taken a surprising turn, a power play that left both of you navigating the intricate threads of desire, forgiveness, and the consequences of a maybe – ex-complicated situationship.

With a commanding tone, you instructed Mingyu to kneel once again, a subtle smirk playing on your lips. He obeyed, sinking down to his knees with a mix of anticipation and eagerness. The air in the room crackled with a palpable tension as you laid down the terms.

"If you act like a good boy, maybe I'll forgive you," you declared, your voice carrying a hint of authority.

Mingyu nodded earnestly, a silent pledge to abide by your terms. As you proceeded to remove your shirt, next your pantie, allowing it to fall to the floor, the atmosphere became charged with a new layer of intensity. 

"How much do you want this pussy Mingyu?" you inquired, the question hanging in the air as you observed Mingyu's reaction. His shoulders slumped, a subtle expression of desire and longing evident on his face.

"A lot," he moaned, the words escaping his lips with a mixture of need and surrender. Your legs spread open, an invitation too tempting, as he feels his mouth waters at the view. 

"Open your mouth," you commanded Mingyu, your voice carrying an air of authority. He complied without hesitation, anticipation flickering in his eyes.

As he held his mouth open, you slid two fingers inside, the intimate contact a subtle exploration of boundaries and desire. Mingyu's tongue teased your fingers, a provocative dance that elicited a hiss from you.

"No teasing," you admonished, a note of warning in your voice. With a swift motion, you delivered a little slap to his chin as you withdrew your fingers from his mouth. The air crackled with a newfound tension, a moment that blurred the lines between control and submission.

Mingyu furrowed his eyebrows, as he watched your fingers slowly disappearing inside of your cunt, your fingers and your slick gushes out of you, and all he can do is watch. He sits patiently on his feet, watching your fingers leaving and entering your pussy in a too provocative rhythm. His bottom lip quivering to the desire of eating you out.

"Please Y/N…"

"What?''

"Please, let me eat you out, it looks so good…"

To tease him even more, you fastened your fingers, moaning while your cunt sounded like Mingyu's favorite song, wet, luscious, mouthwatering, appetizing, tempting. He cries out, his hands together on his lap. "Please, I beg you, I missed you so bad." 

The room was charged with a blend of anticipation and surrender as you stopped, taking a moment to look at Mingyu's mournful face. The desire in his eyes was palpable, and the silent plea for what he had begged for lingered in the air.

With a subtle nod, you allowed him to fulfill his request. Mingyu, starved and eager, approached the task with a concentration that hinted at a deep desire to please you. As he held you with a gentle yet fervent touch, mouthing your pussy, licking you clean, his focus on your pleasure was unwavering. The way he clung to you conveyed a fear of losing you, made you mewl as he sucked your clit, you held onto the sheets, a silent anchor in the sea of sensations. Mingyu's devotion and the way he concentrated on your pleasure only intensified the building release within you. Like a wave, you're cumming all over his mouth and chin, he hums in response flickering your clit with his tongue.

"Enough." You breathe out, closing your legs. "Strip, and lay for me." 

Mingyu rose from the floor, a determined look on his face, seemingly oblivious to any discomfort his knees might be feeling. The sounds of his clothing being discarded echoed in the room, punctuated by the soft thud as he settled onto the bed. The mattress shifted as he moved closer, his warm touch caressing your arm.

"What are you going to do?" he asked, his voice a low murmur, a hint of curiosity and desire lingering in the air.

"Don't touch me," you instructed Mingyu, your tone carrying a note of command as you climbed onto his lap. Leaving him momentarily frozen, his hands hovering in the air, uncertain of where to go.

The close proximity of his cock intensified the wetness between your thighs. Mingyu, eager and responsive, looked at you with a mix of desire and restraint, his hands now cautiously placed together on his chest.

The atmosphere crackled with a blend of dominance and submission as you straddled Mingyu, humping your wet pussy against his cock, your movements deliberate and provocative. His moans in response to your degrading words only heightened the intensity of the moment.

"Oh my god, look at you," you cooed, your voice a mix of mockery and desire. "I just stopped paying attention to you, and you came fucking begging me to talk with you. You're humiliating, Mingyu."

His moans, a symphony of pleasure and submission, filled the room. Mingyu's response to your degrading words conveyed a complex dance of desire and self-awareness. The acknowledgment that he deserved the degradation.

The room filled with a momentary hush as you sank your hips, Mingyu's length now fully inside. He shut his eyes, a silent surrender to the sensations that enveloped him. 

The unspoken admission hung in the air—though you wouldn't openly admit it, there was a trace of longing, a subtle acknowledgment that, despite the complexities, you had missed him a little. The air became charged with a mix of desire and restraint as your hips rode him, his length fully fulfilling the connection between you.

His angry tip brushed against that special spot, sending a surge of pleasure through both of you, cause now, you were so tight around him. "I'm going to cum, f-fuck"

"You better not." 

The charged atmosphere intensified as you edged Mingyu, denying him release, while simultaneously relishing in the control you held over his pleasure. He gasped for air, his eyes clenched shut, a desperate attempt to hold back as your dominating presence and the sensations of your movements threatened to overwhelm him.

Your hips moved with a purposeful intensity, driving him to the edge, and his body contorted in a desperate attempt to maintain control. The struggle was evident in the way his breath hitched and his eyes rolled back, succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure that surged through him.

"I-I can't hold it anymore," he stuttered, his voice strained with the effort of restraint.

"If you cum, I will-"

The moment of release was inevitable. Mingyu's hot cum filled you, triggering your own orgasm, he cried out your name, making your wall clench harder around him.

As Mingyu managed a string of apologies, you allowed him to slide out of you, leaving his lap coated with both of your arousal, your legs damp with his seed. 

The scoff echoed in the room, a mix of amusement and assertion. However, your actions spoke a different language. As you tighten your legs around the sides of Mingyu's legs, restraining his movement, your hands take control, pumping his cock fast. The focus on his red tip elicited a loud cry from Mingyu, his back lifting off the mattress in response to the overstimulation.

The wet sounds filled the bedroom as the intensity of your touch drove him to the edge. Mingyu's hands gripped the pillow beneath his head, a desperate attempt to anchor himself in the whirlwind of sensations that consumed him.

As Mingyu's body trembled under the heightened sensations, he felt a knot tightening in his abdomen, a sensation he hadn't anticipated. The overwhelming intensity built up to a point where he couldn't contain it anymore. A primal scream tore from his lips, his body convulsing in the throes of another orgasm.

His cum pooled on his abdomen, a physical manifestation of the powerful release that coursed through him. You observed his trembling body, struck by the raw intensity of his response. Mingyu's reaction seemed to surpass any previous experiences, his vulnerability and ecstasy on display in a way you hadn't witnessed before.

"Sorry, I came without your permission…"

"Enough with the sorry's, Mingyu," you said with a soft smile. "Let's just take a bath."

As the warm water cascaded around you, cleansing away the external worries, you both found solace in the simplicity of the moment. Emerging from the bath, you lay on the bed alone, the silence speaking volumes. Mingyu, holding his shirt, stood in contemplation. His gaze met yours, and he released a breath he seemed to have been holding.

The room felt charged with unspoken emotions when Mingyu finally gathered the courage to ask, "Can we sleep together tonight? Can I stay here with you?"

His eyes held a lot of shyness, and for a moment, you felt a genuine change in the air. You bit your lip, a subtle smile playing on your lips. In response, you patted the bed twice, a silent invitation for him to join you.

Mingyu threw his shirt away with a smile, a blend of shyness and excitement. He settled on the bed, maintaining a cautious distance, uncertain about what the night held. Your gaze met his, and you turned to face him. His eyes sparkled, and with a newfound boldness, he closed the gap and hugged you tightly.

"Don't be away from me again," he whispered, his voice tinged with vulnerability. And for the first time in those weeks, you let yourself savor the sweet taste of his pink soft lips, making him melt in response.

You smiled, your palms sliding gently along his back. The walls that once stood between you seemed to crumble as Mingyu embraced you, his actions speaking louder than any words. In that moment, it felt like a page turned, and a new chapter began.

Well, Seungkwan, you knew a lot. The five ways to have a man in the palm of your hand indeed. 

[frenchkisstheabyss]

✦ love poem ✦

✦ Pairing: dad!choi san x pregnant!chubby!fem!reader w/ appearances by ot8

✦ Genre: fluff/light angst

✦ Summary: Being pregnant during the holidays has been hectic. Especially for your fiance San whose tight work schedule has him under pressure. But when his best friend Hwa steps in to ease the burden on him by being there for you, it creates more jealousy than Christmas cheer.

✦ Word Count: 3.5k-ish

✦ Warnings: pregnant reader, occasionally strong language, some quick lusting after San while he's in the shower (nothing graphic), & that's all.

✦ A/N: I really wanted to write something sweet with like the tiniest bit of angst so there's nothing heavy here. It's mostly just lovey dovey shit cause, I mean, I'm a lover girl. What can I say?

Standing at the entrance of the tunnel of lights, you watch in awe as thousands of tiny bulbs twinkle to the tune of the Christmas music that coasts along the night air. Every year the local zoo holds a massive festival of lights to celebrate the holiday season. During your first year here San had plans to take you to opening night but, with his schedule being as unpredictable as it is, that never did happen. This year though, he promised that nothing would stop you from experiencing this together and he meant it.

As much as San and the rest of the boys hyped this place up to you, nothing could’ve prepared you for how breathtaking it is in person. It’s magical. The carnival rides, the little Christmas themed games, the stalls selling some of the best food you ever tasted. And the displays. They’re pure art. It may be too cold for the animals to be out but the elaborate light sculptures of them make up for it tenfold. Children race through the light tunnels while couples cuddle up in line for hot cocoa. If ever “Winter Wonderland” were a place this would have to be it.

“Stop running!” Hongjoong yells from behind you. Seconds later Mingi and Jongho dart past you in a blur. You turn in time to see the look of defeat on Hongjoong’s face as he approaches with the others close behind. “I swear sometimes they act like children,” he groans, “Take it from me. Don’t have kids. It’s not worth it.” Popping on a pair of knit gloves, Yunho gestures towards the pregnant belly rounding out your thick winter coat. “I think that advice is about 7 months too late.”

Hongjoong gasps in horror, “Oh. I mean, you know, except that one. I’m sure it’ll be a cute little thing.” You can only giggle at how flustered any mention of your pregnancy gets him. Hongjoong hasn’t quite grasped that San’s about to be someone’s dad. Even as your belly has grown, he’s managed to periodically forget what’s happening but he’s trying to be supportive and it’s sweet. Seonghwa pats you softly on the belly, laying his head on your shoulder, “Pay him no mind. She’ll be a cute little baby. Not a thing. I mean, look at her mom”

"Oh, Hwa, you’re too sweet” you blush, patting him on the cheek. “The baby! I think it kicked!” He’s right. You felt it. It’s about that time of night after all. The moment she could start kicking she did. Especially around bedtime. Suddenly they’re all gathered close around you staring at your stomach as if the baby will burst out at this very moment like some alien spawn. Woo kneels down in front of you, resting his hand behind Hwa’s. “Aah!” he squeals, “She’s saying hi to her uncles. Hi, baby!”

By now Mingi and Jongho have circled back, stopping dead in their tracks to see what all the fuss is about. “What’s going on?” Jongho asks, Mingi’s hat clenched in his hand. Mingi snatches his hat back, peering over Jongho’s shoulder, “It’s not happening is it?” Seeing the panic in his eyes, you immediately jump to calm him down, “Not yet. She’s kicking up a fuss. That’s all.” “So much like her dad already” Yeosang teases, just as San appears to push them aside. “Hands off!” he orders, shooing them away, “I go to the bathroom for two seconds and you’re already crowding my kid.”

The others just laugh, not expecting to witness such a perfect example of Yeosang’s statement so soon. “You okay? Everything okay?” he asks, fixing the scarf around your next and popping your hood over your head. “Baby, it’s not that cold.” “Temperature’s supposed to drop 5 degrees in the next half hour. Gotta stay toasty, honey.” San’s always been attentive, doing everything he could to make sure you were taken care of but the pregnancy has kicked it into overdrive.

Taking his hands, you give him a warm peck on the lips and flash a smile that soothes his worries. “I’m okay, Sannie. I promise. Now let’s go.” The tunnel’s far more mesmerizing from the inside than it is simply looking in. It feels like a portal to a different world, replacing the darkness of the night sky with constellations of red and green that guide you to the next section of the zoo. Each area has one unique to the space you’re about to step into.

A tunnel of mistletoe and vines for the flower garden. One built like a giant sleigh for the reindeer village. And that’s not even half of it. How anyone can make it through this place in one night is beyond you. Then again, not everyone is toting another human around in their belly. By the time you make it through the ice tunnel into the replica North Pole, your feet are killing you but you try to hold it together.

Between doctor’s appointments, work, redecorating the apartment, and a million other things that need to be done before the baby arrives, there’s been zero time to do anything fun. Calling it quits this early feels wrong. Especially since San's been so stressed lately. Spending time with the guys seems to be just the thing he needed to shake some of that off.

“How many more lights do we have to see before we’ve seen enough?” Mingi whines, dragging his feet. Alright, so maybe someone else is as over it as you are. Yunho slaps Mingi on the back, taking a deep breath, “Have some holiday cheer! We’re in such a beautiful place. Where else would you rather be?” “Somewhere warm! With food!” Woo adds, backing Mingi up. Jongho jumps it, never one to miss the opportunity, “And drinks! When’s the last time we all had drinks together?”

Hongjoong crosses his arms, throwing them some wicked side eye, until he realizes, “Actually it has been a while since we went out for drinks.” Woo wraps his arms around Yeosang, determined to rope him into this plan, “You in? Say yes. Say yes!” “Yeah, sure fine, whatever” Yeosang laughs, shrugging him off. Hwa clears his throat, preparing to be the bearer of bad news, “Well it’s not just us you guys. There’s kinda a 10th person here now.”

For a fleeting moment, you were able to detect some excitement on San’s face and Hwa’s words wipe it away in an instant. Everyone falls silent, not quite sure what to do with the awkwardness of the moment. “Hey,” you say, lovingly rubbing San’s chest, “Why don’t you go get those drinks?” “What? No. I’m not leaving you. We said we’d do this.” “We did and I’ve had the best time but, honestly, my feet hurt like shit.” “Then I’ll take you home and run some water so you can soak your feet” San insists, guiding you out of the way of an approaching crowd.

“San, please, for the love of god, go” you beg, looking to his friends for support. “I’ll take her home!” Hwa volunteers, “I’m not really up for drinking anyway.” San glares skeptically back and forth between the two of you. He wants to protest but he gets the sense that arguing with you is a losing battle and he’s right. “Fine” he relents, “But text me when you get home. Love you.” The way you light up when he finally gives in is one of the infinite reasons why he loves you the way that he does. “I will. Love you too.” “Love you three!” “Love you four!” you say, kissing him before Jongho begins to drag him in the other direction. “We’re not doing this all night! Let’s go!”

Parting ways is a sea of goodbyes and bickering that continues until you lose sight of the rest of the group. Hooking his arm into yours, Hwa directs you towards a festive snack stand not too far away. “Wanna eat like trash before we go home?” he offers with a mischievous grin, knowing San would murder him if he knew. You nod, playfully tearing up, “I thought you’d never ask.” 

“Baby, have you seen my keys?” you shout from the bedroom, digging through your purse for the third time. “Huh?” San calls back, the water rushing from the shower making it impossible to hear you. Shuffling down the hall, you pop your head into the bathroom. “I was asking if you’d seen my keys.” San peeks from behind the shower curtain, shampoo bubbles dripping down his sculpted cheekbones. In an instant, you forget all about your keys. What else could possibly matter when San’s standing here dripping wet, every muscle in his defined chest glistening like gold. Snap out of it. This is how you got pregnant in the first place. 

“I saw them by the stove I think.” “Thanks, ya cutie” you wink, ready to skip off to find them. “Wait,” he says before you can make it more than a step and a half away, “You’re all dressed up. Where are you going?” Scanning your outfit, you don’t see anything particularly “dressed up” about what you’re wearing. Some knit overalls with a cozy sweater underneath and your favorite boots are far from red carpet ready in your mind. “Hwa’s taking me shopping for decorations. Don’t you remember?” San frowns, only vaguely remembering the conversation, “Why didn’t you ask me?” “I did but you said you were busy today so Hwa offered to take me.” 

Your phone dings in your pocket. You fish it out and find a text message from Hwa telling you he’s outside. “Ooh, speak of the devil. Gotta run.” Carefully, you make your way across the bathroom floor, giving him a kiss that you struggle to keep innocent with the knowledge of what’s behind the curtain. “Have fun and tell Joong I said hi! I’ll bring you back something!” you sing and you’re off to find your keys. San’s frozen in place, unable to bring himself to move an inch. Even after he’s heard the apartment door close, it takes him a second to get back to his shower.

It’s been two weeks since the light festival and you’ve seen Hwa every few days since. Every time San’s too busy to do something Hwa’s right there to help. When did he become so available? You always come home so happy too. Were you that happy with him? Letting the water wash over his head, he tries to shake away his jealous thoughts.

You moved here to be with him and, in that time, the only friends you’d made were his. Hwa’s just being a good friend to the both of you, helping when San’s unable to. Thinking that it's anything else is ridiculous. All of the long hours spent working must be getting to him. Hwa would never...

You would never...

Neither of you would...

Right? Right? 

Pregnancy hormones. They’re the one thing no one can ever quite prepare you for. One minute you’re hanging ornaments on the tree, humming along to your music in a cozy pair of pajamas. The next you’re crying on the kitchen floor, stuffing your mouth with the cookies you baked for the holiday party tomorrow.

It’s nearly midnight and everything makes you emotional. The lights on the tree are too bright, your feet feel swollen, the cookies aren’t as sweet as you'd like, and suddenly you can’t stand the song that’s playing despite it being one of your favorites. You want everything off but then the house would be quiet and empty. You’d be reminded that you’re all alone until San comes home tomorrow and cry even harder.

You pull out your phone to call him but when you see the time you decide not to. His flight is in a few hours and he’s already told you what a long day he had. You’d hate to wake him up, to burden him any more than you feel you already have.  Just as you’re about to put your phone down it lights up. A text from Seonghwa. Some adorable video of a cat dressed up as one of Santa’s elves.

The poor thing looks miserable running around in that costume but it makes you laugh enough to stop you from spiraling. Taking a deep breath, you wipe away the tears blurring your vision and shoot a text back. 

You: Thanks. I really needed that.

Hwa: Why? Something wrong?

You: I’m having a crying thing. Kinda sad tonight.

Hwa: Need some company?

Without thinking, you type out the words “You don’t have to—” before erasing them and typing out something new. "Sure!"

It takes him no time at all to reach you. The streets are empty this time of night and he only lives a half hour away. Even if he lived two hours away—three hours away—he’d drive every single one of them to come support you. When you became someone special to San, you became someone special to him too. He’s never seen San more serious about anything than he's been about you and this baby. As much as he wishes that San would get out of his head a bit more, it’s cute to see him love something so much. 

“Anybody home?” Hwa whispers, his eyes narrowing when he notices that your front door is cracked. “Come in” you sob from the couch, blowing your nose for what feels like the 1000th time since you sent that last text. Hwa follows a trail of discarded tissues to find you curled up on the couch, as curled as you can be this far along in your pregnancy. “Hey, hey, don’t cry” he coos, easing himself down onto the couch and resting your head in his lap, “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You try to speak but you’re too short of breath to get anything out. Hwa strokes your hair, taking slow breaths in and out, “Follow me, okay? In and out.” You shake your head in protest. The whole room is closing in around you. You can’t do it. “Just try it. For me. Please” he begs so sweetly that you can’t refuse. Deep breath in, long breath out. The same way that they taught you in those birthing classes you went to. “This is total bullshit” you’d whispered to San at one point during the class but it turns out it isn’t bullshit at all. 

After a few seconds, the tightness in your chest eases and the room begins to open up. The world isn’t falling apart anymore. You’re safe. Hwa sits with you in silence as your breathing quiets, dabbing away any rogue tears that drip down your cheeks. “Is San happy with me?” you ask, catching him off guard, “Is this too much for him, do you think?” Hwa laughs, knowing how extremely far from the truth both of those questions are. “Hwa, it’s not funny! I’m serious!” “I’m sorry! I’m not trying to make fun of you, it’s just—if you make him happy or not, that’s not a question. He’s crazy about you.”

Grabbing the small blanket folded over the back of the couch, he opens it up and tucks you in with it. “None of this is too much,” he swears, “You and her…” Hwa pokes your belly, making you giggle. “You guys are everything he’s ever wanted. He pushes himself so much because he wants to be perfect for you.” You yawn, Hwa’s presence and the warm blanket activating the exhaustion you’ve been fighting. “But he’s already perfect to me. Why can’t he see that?” “Mmm, it’s really hard sometimes to see ourselves the way other people do but he’ll come around. I promise.”

If there’s one similarity you’ve come to find between San and Hwa it’s how important promises are to them. If Hwa says he’ll come around then he will. They’d been friends for ages before you came into the picture. They’ve gone through more together than you can imagine. If Hwa's confident about it, then you have to believe it too. You drift off to sleep, your brain still spinning but much quieter now, trusting that everything will be just fine.

Right? Right? 

“Listen to yourself. You sound crazy!” Hwa snaps, trying his hardest not to raise his voice in the midst of his anger. San tosses his bags to the floor and they hit with a thud that shakes you from your sleep. “I come home to you cuddled up on the couch with her and I’m crazy?” “She texted me last night that she was crying. What was I supposed to do?” “Tell me! And let me take care of her! She’s not yours so stop treating her like she is!”

San’s jaw clenches, the jealousy he’s been harboring turning into true pain for the first time. He thought he had this under control. Those hours of talking with Woo about how stupid his suspicions were had chased off his insecurities. But coming in, tired and cranky from his flight, to see you so peacefully cuddled against Hwa had undone all of it. He wanted to kill him and the knowledge that he was the first one you reached for when you were hurting only adds fuel to the fire currently burning his self control to ash.

“Sannie?” you squeak, stretching out your cramped limbs, “What’s going on?” You sit up, eyes still squinted, to see what all of the fuss is about. Hwa hangs his head, unable to face you, “I think I should go. If you need me I’m here for both of you.” “Wait, no!” you say, doing your best to roll off of the couch and stop him but by the time you’re on your feet he’s gone. Turning your attention to San, you immediately sense his anger. Something happened and whatever it was has him fuming.

“Baby, what happened? You can talk to—” “Is there something going on between you two?” “What?” you laugh, placing your hands on your lower back for support. You keep laughing but the sharpness of his expression never changes. He’s actually waiting for an answer. “Oh god, you’re serious. You’re actually asking me if I’m fucking Seonghwa.” “I didn’t say that.” “But that’s what you’re saying. That’s what you think of me.”

You catch yourself wanting to cry again, only this time it isn’t because of the pregnancy hormones. It’s because you waited for days to see the man you love only to be accused of something like this. San can almost see the moment your heart breaks, making him regret his doubts in an instant. “He’s been helping me because I was worried about you burning yourself out. That’s it. I wouldn’t do that to you.” Your bottom lip quivers and the tears are rushing from your eyes again. “Fuck, I’m so tired of crying” you huff, flopping back down onto the couch. 

San’s at your side quicker than he’s ever been, his arms wrapped around you like he never wants to let go. “I’m sorry! Please don’t cry. I didn’t mean it. I know you’d never do that.” “Then why were you two arguing? Why even ask me?” “Because I’m afraid” he admits, leaving you both shocked at his admission. He’s scared, terrified, so much that it keeps him up at night. “I’m afraid I’m not good enough to be what you need me to be and it was easier to be jealous than to admit that.”

You’re frustrated enough that you could slap him but your body feels so at home in his embrace that you can’t pull away. “You’re good enough for me…for us, San. You have to believe me when I say that.” “Then why do you call him when you’re crying and not me?” “Because,” you sigh, “I’m afraid too. I don’t want to lean on you too much.” “What? Lean on me too much?” he asks, almost offended, “Lean on me all you want. What do you think I work out for?”

You giggle when you feel his muscles flex against you, “San, be serious!” “I am! Lean on me, please. We’re a team. I need you to trust me to be here.” You stare at him, your eyes beautiful enough to hypnotize him even when they’re clouded with tears. “You have to trust me to be here too, you know?” San kisses your forehead, one hand gently massaging your back, “I trust you, baby.” Closing your eyes a tingly feeling washes over you. Is it love? The Christmas spirit? The tingling is chased by a contraction stronger than any period cramp you’ve ever felt.

“The baby’s coming!” you shout, gripping your stomach. San jumps back in shock as if he didn’t know you were pregnant to begin with. “Are you sure?” “You said you trust me!” “I do! I do! Hold on!” Leaning you back on the couch, San darts around the apartment collecting all of the things he’s prepared over the last few months to make you comfortable when this happens. A bag packed with clothes for you and your favorite slippers. Phone chargers, baby wipes, stuffed animals, the snacks you love. The list is endless.

“I’ll pull the car up and come back for you, okay?” he says, propping your feet up on the coffee table as he tries to put your coat on. “Just get the car. I’m okay.” “You sure?” “I’m sure and San,” you say, grabbing his arm. “Yeah?” “You’re gonna be a great dad. The best ever.” San can’t fight the smile that spreads across his face or the slight reddening of his cheeks. You believe in him, you truly do, and for the first time, he does too.

[ddejavvu]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE can we get reader being harassed by some guy in an alleyway and hotch is walking by with the team (perhaps going to get drinks after wrapping up a case) AND HE LIKE STEPS IN AND THREATENS THE GUY?? MAYBE EVEN FLASHES HIS BADGE OR SM. Basically I'm thirsty for some protective!hotch <3

You're reminded of how unpredictable life can be when you're yanked backwards unexpectedly, tugged into the darkness of a shadowed alley between two buildings. Five seconds before you'd been thinking about dinner, and now you're not sure you'll live to see another meal.

"Cash," The man grunts, his mouth pressed to your ear as his arm cuts tight around your neck, "I need cash."

"My- my bag," You whimper, frozen stiff in fear and rendered useless, "I- I don't have much, but you- you can take it."

He throws you forwards, ripping your bag off of your shoulder in one fluid motion. He rifles through it while you relearn the art of breathing, but before he can pull your measly collection of bills from the inside pocket of your wallet, there's a gun over your shoulder pointed at his head.

For a moment, you're so dazed that you honestly think you might be holding it. But you don't have a gun, and your wrist doesn't have the dark, wiry hair on it that you see beneath a grey sleeve of whoever's got the weapon.

"Drop the purse, and the knife." A voice booms through the alleyway, deep and firm. If it was directed at you, you'd spook like a horse, and your assailant looks properly terrified.

"It's just a little cash, man," Your attacker tries, "I- I know her! She's my girlfriend."

Your savior knows he's lying before you shake your head vigorously, but you do it anyways, because sitting there and doing nothing feels wrong.

"You've already assaulted someone in front of a federal agent, don't make it worse for yourself by lying about it, too. You're lucky I don't have my cuffs with me or I'd haul you into the back of my SUV and take you down to the station right now. Instead, you're going to drop the purse, and the weapon, and run as fast as you can, because the more time you sit there and let me look at you, the better my chances are of describing you to a sketch artist and placing a warrant out for your arrest."

By the middle of the man's speech, your attacker is trembling just as much as you are. He drops your bag and his knife on command, barely avoiding tripping over the edge of the gutter drain as he flees the scene.

As soon as the gun isn't necessary anymore, the man behind you stashes it in a holster, but you can't see, your back feels permanently adhered to the wall you'd backed up against.

"You're okay," The man assures you, and his voice is much more soothing at a softer tone. He bends to gather your purse, tucking a tube of chapstick back into its confines before holding it out as a peace offering to you.

"He's gone," He promises, ducking down where your eyes are stuck to peer worriedly at you. He has a handsome face, but it's pinched in concern, big brown eyes dripping with care, "And I will put that warrant out for his arrest. Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

"No," You breathe, still pressed to the wall even as you shake your head, "No, he- Thank you, I- I don't know what I would have done without you."

"I usually show up to these things a little late," He grimaces, dropping your purse back down to his side and holding out an empty hand instead, "Can I help you get where you were going?"

"Home." You mutter, "I was- I was going home. After work."

"I can drive you there, if you'd like." He offers, pleased when you reach out with a shaky hand to take his own, "Or we can walk, whichever you prefer. I just want to make sure nothing else happens."

"Um, I- I can pay for a ride. Here," You take your purse back, tugging a bill out that you're lucky to still possess, "If- it's just down the street, if you really don't mind."

"Keep it," He pushes your hand back towards your purse, "I just stopped a guy from taking your money, I'm not gonna do the same. My car's right outside, okay? Let me help you there. And- uh," He rifles through his jacket, "I wasn't lying about being an agent." He showcases a black-covered badge, Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner written in bold lettering beneath his name, "You'll be safe with me."

"Okay," You nod, accepting the hand that he holds your arm with to ease you off of the wall and onto your shaky legs, "Uh, thank you, Agent- Hotchner."

"No need." He murmurs, eyes scanning the crowd to make sure there's no sign of your assailant, "Let's just get you home safe, honey."

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 General’s Day Off

♡ featuring: jing yuan x f!reader

♡ summary: the general has been stressed as of late. a day of relaxation is what he needs. wc: 2.8k+

♡ cw/tw: non-sexual nudity, fluff!

notes: whew I've been waiting to do some jing yuan fluff for a while my lil smoochie. the next one is gonna be so long oof but I can't wait. art by ArtRobiins on twitter :) <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!

The dozing general hadn’t had a moment of peace since Phantylia’s invasion. The Xianzhou Luofu was still recovering from betrayal, and its people were on edge ever since. Jing Yuan wouldn’t admit his weaknesses, but the welfare of his people weighed on his consciousness greatly. It bled through his ghostly skin and sinking eyebags stretching at the tired corners. The threat of another disruption loomed, and so he obsessively prepared for the untold attack. He busied himself with preventative measures, documents upon documents stacked on his desk. Yanqing had never seen him behave so adamantly, so sure of some eventual calamity. Though his demeanor reflected that of a lazy, carefree man, his heavy heart and soul bore the curse of immense grief. He needed to portray a headstrong and unwavering strength, otherwise the reality of his situation would be too apparent to the Luofu. His close friends were lost to the unpredictable winding ties of fate; he couldn’t stand to mourn another. Especially with you around. 

If you and Yanqing weren’t by his side, he would be undoubtedly consumed by sorrow. Your warm smile on the mild sunrise planted a blossoming light in that dimming core. Patience was a virtue when it came to his stubbornness; you could tell he was unwell, but whenever you voiced your concerns, he aimed to ease your worries with fleeting promises of rest. He would sooner die than see tears in your eyes at his affliction. Bailu was overseeing his recovery, until he proclaimed a sudden influx of health, and steadied his posture as if it was as spry as before. Yanqing attempted to keep him in her care, but he was forced to watch Jing Yuan push himself beyond inherent limitations. 

Mornings on the Luofu are always quiet. It gets hectic during the afternoon, so you take the opportunity to do some calming activities. Jing Yuan was already gone before you woke; he hadn’t been getting much sleep lately. You stir the dark bitter substance in your cup and stare out at the endless blue, pondering how you fell in love with such an obdurate man. That is, before you glimpse his half naked body dreaming, shadowed by the snowy curls spilling down his back in your memory. You can’t help but smile. 

You receive a knock at the door, and rush to answer it. These days, news about Jing Yuan and another injury shaded your mind. You open the door, and it’s Yanqing, at attention as if he’s facing the general. 

“Good morning, ma’am, I have something to report” he says, straight and dutiful. You giggle at his professionalism, and a tinge of pink grazes his ears. “It is a good morning. You know you don’t have to be so formal with me, Yanqing.” He drops the soldier-like pose and sighs with a slouch. “I know, ma’am. But I really need to talk to you.” You invite him to come inside, and you both sit at the dining table quietly. You notice him shifting uncomfortably in the chair, a far stare in his contemplation. 

“Did you eat? I can make something.” He cuts back to reality from the broken silence. “Ah! No thank you, I ate already” he stammers. You offer your most welcoming smile. “What would you like to discuss, Yanqing?” 

“It’s...about General Jing. I’m really worried about him. He spends a lot of time working now. I’ve tried to get him to relax once and a while but he’s always up and out the door. I can’t get in contact with him for hours. And he’s so tired! Sometimes when I look over his shoulder, the things he’s writing are nonsense!” You allow him to continue, it seems that Yanqing became more relieved with honesty for each grievance he admitted to. “He struggles to hide it, but I see him grab his side in pain whenever he stands...I don’t know what to do. So, I wanted to tell you.” Your head is propped by your hand, taking in all the information you suspected was occurring. Perhaps you should’ve strapped him to a hospital bed for eternity. You click your tongue in annoyance, Jing Yuan is truly a gorgeous handful. 

“I knew it.” 

“Oh, you did?” 

“A sneaky suspicion, I guess.” 

“I can’t get through to him.” You let out a dejected chuckle. “Me neither. He’s really the worst, stressing us out like this.” Yanqing subconsciously nods his head, fumbling with his thumbs. “I never thought you’d help me go against the general” you tease.  

“N-no! I’m just trying to help him recover, is all!” he splutters, waving his hands over his face. “I’m kidding. I know you care about him. I do, too. I love him more than anything in this universe.”  

Your mind replays every kind gesture; the fresh bouquet of flowers he got you every few days, sharing unending stories that kept you awake at night while you both gazed at the stars, his tendency to be horrible at games that weren’t chess, and the warm hug enveloping you just as you dozed off in his arms. You endured to be strong for him up until this point, but bittersweet longing pierces your thoughts. The truth spills down your cheeks. 

“Oh no, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-” 

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault. If you’re willing to help, could you do me a favor?” you whisper, wiping the persistent staining tears. Yanqing stands at attention as if he’s accepted a life-or-death mission. “Of course.” 

“Please make sure his schedule is clear tomorrow.” 

You aren’t sure if your plan will convince him to stay home, but he doesn’t have much of a choice. Unfortunately, he didn’t come home as you expected. You slept intermittently. By the time you woke, the sun was just rising, casting a rose-colored gradient across the sky. Still nowhere to be found. 

Click. The door creaks open. Jing Yuan stealthily moves his hand behind it and tiptoes past the welcome mat. The screech makes him pause briefly, before sliding against the wall to get past the snitching door. Right as he closes it, he whips around, only to see your figure swaddled in a quilt waiting for him on the couch. Too tired to react, he flashes a weak smirk, and sets his scroll on the table. His shirt is wrinkled and turned a dirty beige, most likely from fighting, with the collar undone. Truthfully, he was elated to see you after hardly being home for weeks. You made the blood and bruising worth it—it ensured your life and protection. 

“Oh? What’s this?” You make grabbing motions with both hands, reaching out to him from your spot. “You ordered a general?” he jests. You unfold the plush quilt and beckon him to your embrace. “Mhm. Come here, honey.” Be it lack of sleep or resolve, your body looks too comfortable in this moment, and he falls to temptation. Kicking off his boots, he quickly strides towards you and dives in your arms. He’s extremely heavy, nearly twice your size and probably the fluffiest weighted blanket you’ve ever felt. He melts in your hold. The buckles from his waist prickle your soft flesh, but the vibration of his breath soothing in your ear makes you forget. You rub the firm muscle of his back with one hand, it’s taut and anxious. You untie the red bow and tangle your other hand through the puffs of marshmallows between your fingers.  

“Your delivery is here” he mumbles. 

“Finally, I’ve been waiting for it for sooo long.” 

“My apologies. I got caught up at work.” 

“I’m sure.” You pull his hair back to gaze at his jagged features, those dark ringed orbs filled with amber. “Do you want me to have a heart attack wondering when you’ll come home?” 

“If that were to happen, I’d jump in the coffin right after you, my dear.” You pinch his nose, and he laughs. “However, I must return soon.” His voice sounds flat, defeated. You go back to stroking his hair. “No. You have the day off.” 

“Really? And who arranged that?” 

“Yanqing. He told me about your...reluctance to relax.” Jing Yuan half rolls his eyes, but never moves to leave your warmth. “That boy, he’s nervous over nothing.” You poke his side to test the pain and watch him instantly wince. He sighs deeply at your irritated expression. 

“(Y/N), I can’t just stop over a feeble injury.” 

“You took a spear in the chest, and nearly died. I wouldn't call that a feeble injury.” 

“The Luofu needs me.” 

“I need you.” He surveys your upset expression. Did he ever stop to consider your feelings, how despondent he’d made you from reckless habits? He deemed himself fortunate that you chose to stay. He gently pecks your temple. 

“You’re right. I won’t go anywhere.” Your face lights up, and you wrap your legs around him tighter. “Good, you’ll enjoy yourself. I have something planned.” 

You start preparing your plan, arranging the master bathroom to a calming variety of aromatic trimmings and sheer drapes hanging just above the tub. Jing Yuan didn’t know what constitutes a spa day, and so you briefly described it as a “day of relaxation”. You didn’t want to ruin the whole surprise. When you get back to the living room, you have a pen and paper with scribbles on it. 

“Mr. Yuan?” you say, pretending that his name is somewhere on the unwritten list. He grins and plays along. “Are you here for the spa package?” 

“Yes, I am. I didn’t know the receptionist was so breathtaking” he teases. He always knew how to fluster you. You do some fake calculations and nod to yourself, ignoring the hands wandering on your body. “For everything your total comes out to…3 kisses.”  

Jing Yuan cradles your face with calloused hands. “Hmm, that's quite expensive, but I think I can manage.” Pressing a soft kiss to your awaiting lips that lasts too long between breaths. It feels desperate, like you’ll float away if he lets you go. You part for air and place your finger over his mouth. “Payment accepted. Right this way.” He kisses your finger, and you guide him to the bathroom. You nudge him inside, and immediately the aroma of vanilla and perfumed petals escapes from the steaming shower. It was spotless and arranged similar to an exotic getaway. “Please undress and get comfortable. I’ll join you inside shortly.” He nods and starts undressing. You gather everything you need and head inside. 

He’s sitting on a stool under the rainfall showerhead, scrubbing down his body. The water bounces off his admittedly neglected hair, and he turns so that the heat doesn’t creep into his wound. You hadn’t realized showering was painful for him. You follow him into the shower. “May I?” you ask, motioning for the semi wet loofa in his hand.  

“Be my guest.” His knees support his elbows, and you kneel behind him to massage mild soap into the sudsing loofa. His scars are much more apparent now, healed but carved roughly on the war-torn muscle. You delicately lather the product across and down his mole dotted back, gingerly kisses littering his shoulder blades. You spread the soap to his sternum and stomach, and you feel his tense form caving to your touch. Jing couldn’t recall receiving affection of this caliber, and so it was nice to be pampered, to feel you closer than he’d ever imagined. It was as if you two were the only people existing in this moment, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.  

After he’s properly washed, you expose his skin to the dew and allow it to run down his back, making sure to block the scar from further distress. You stand and grab the shampoo bottle, squirting an ample glob in your palm. You plop it onto his scalp, and begin working it through his thick mane. Your nails massaging and manipulating the sensitive skin makes him nearly drool. It’s as though you’re shaping his brain, and hums of approval rumble up your hands. He leans back on your stomach and enjoys your digits frothing substance. You almost see a ghostly tail wagging violently at each caress. When you pull his bangs back to wipe his hairline, you gaze at his face, a content smile prodding the crinkling corners of his mouth. “Are you falling asleep?” you whisper, washing away the soap from his forehead and roots. He groans in response and snuggles his head under your breasts. The sounds of serene rain beading the floor echoes in the humid foggy space, and the sweet scent of citrus conditioner crowds your nose. You squeeze out the remaining water. His eyes ajar from infinite slumber once your hands leave his cleansed scalp. You turn off the shower and escort him to the tub. An iridescent blue sparkling liquid stills in the marble stone, complete with botanical flora bobbing aimlessly.  

“There’s more? You’re spoiling me.” He soaks in the room temperature tub, unwinding above bath salt gradually dissolving. You undoubtedly added a concerning amount of eucalyptus and lavender to the water, hoping it would miraculously restore him instantly. Positioning the stool behind him, you pull his hair back with a headband and start to mix a face mask in a small wooden bowl. His head lays in your lap, watching you diligently combine cream with medicinal powders and clay.  You brush the blend over his face and neck, cool to the touch. 

“Feels nice.” he breathes. “Doesn’t it? It’s made with-” you go on a passionate tangent about the ingredients included, he simply stares at you, the twinkle in your eyes while you trace his cheekbones. What did I do to deserve someone so kind and selfless, constantly seeking out my well-being and nurture- 

“Are you even listening?” you accuse. He snaps out of the trance, and nods unconvincingly. 

“I was.” 

“What did I say then?” 

“Mm, something something, your beautiful eyes and lips, I want to kiss them.” he drawls. You grunt disapprovingly, and place thin slices of cucumbers over his eyes. “No looking until it's over.” He pouts like an unruly child. You snicker and scoop a chunky clump of brown sugar scrub between your palms, rubbing together to coax warmth. Kneading the grains along his robust biceps and torso in wide circles, you’re sure you heard snoring at some point. Your hands unrolled a dull ache, and you wanted to stop, but his chest heaving deeply in relaxation pushed you to continue. You ladle water over the sugar and face mask, rubbing it dispersed. With a pristine face, you pat serum and moisturizer into the skin and admire the glowing haleness slowly returning. He sits up, freeing his eyes and gazes at you. 

“How do you feel?” 

“I always feel good whenever you’re around, my love” he flirts. You huff and drain the water. “You should dry off. I’m gonna give you a massage.” He steps out the tub to dry but attempts to follow you out of the room. You turn and he’s right behind you, his massive presence covering your silhouette. “Jing, I’m getting stuff ready. Can you wait here?” He says nothing and embraces your nude figure, nuzzled in your hair. You grab his arms, prying room to look up at his hiding face. You’re shocked to see tears brimming in his eyes threatening to overturn. You wipe them as they fall; somehow, he’s still grinning. He couldn’t register why he was crying yet. “Are you okay-” 

“I missed you greatly.” he murmurs. You kiss his nose and pillow his shaking arms and legs. Dispelling the fears and insecurities that strangle him to a gasp. It’s easier to breathe. "I missed you, too.” He picks you up bridal style, and you yelp. 

“Wait, but the massage” you contest. He walks to the bedroom, swaying you without a care in sight. “That won’t be necessary. I just want to hold you.” He lays you on your back and climbs over you. Despite all the space on your king sized bed, he intertwines your bareness with the velvety sheets, and locks you in his arms. His cuddles are cushiony and pure, cocooned like a life-sized teddy bear. You had numerous things planned today—you'd make him dinner, cater to him, watch a movie—now that you’re snuggled cozily, you couldn’t envision leaving this bed. “I didn’t get-” you yawn lengthily “-everything done.” 

“You've done more than enough. It’s time I take care of you.” He kisses your forehead, and your eyelids feel dense as they ultimately come to a close. He wished your eyes would remain open, he wanted to stare into them for as long as possible. “Truly, thank you, (Y/N). I needed this.”  

He listens to your soft breathing, your heartbeat pounding methodically against his. “I love you. So much” you say in trailing hushed tones before drifting to a distant dream. Maybe you’d dream about him, somewhere on a different planet with your children, spending forever together. For now, things are just as they were before.

“I love you more.” 

[cupidspup]

CG!Ticci-Toby x Little!Reader

All art credit above goes to the original artist!!

A/N (PLEASE READ!):

OKAY SO-- It's been a long while since I've done a fic (especially an agere one) SO PLEASE BE NICE (╥ᆺ╥；) I love writing but it takes a lot of courage and energy and when it comes to agere fics it's especially for littles who feel lonely and take comfort in reading a fic! I want my fics to be something that allows littles like me (who have a softer heart and need extra lovins) feel better and more little!! And I've decided to start writing again by being indulgent in what I write! Today's prompt is based off of what I remember from creepypasta when I was young and I'm not very well versed in any of their lore as much as I used to be skdksks if that's not your thing that's okay! I just hope you enjoy my writing! ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ anywho! Back to the post!! Below are some trigger warnings if needed :3 I won't be including anything too graphic or anything but there *MAY* be a curse word or two or just more adult things since they're serial killers x) (I'm writing this all before I'm writing it lol)

- ꒰ა♡ Kewpie ♡໒꒱

Trigger Warnings:⤵

Strong language, mentions of blood (past tense/present), implications of death/murder via the presence of blood (past tense and very minimal), mentions of weapons, masc caregiver nicknames (daddy, dada, baba, papa, ect), feminine and gender neutral nicknames (princess, kid/kiddo, tiny)

Summary

Toby comes back to Slendermansion after a long day on the job only to find you asleep in bed! Oh no that won't do! He wants to see his baby!

Not a trigger warning but more so something to keep in mind: I know Toby is/was known for a stutter because of his tics BUT I will NOT write the way he speaks like people used to. I don't have Tourrettes myself but I also know that stuttering doesn't always happen when you have it. I also did do research on him a little and found that his tics are more physical rather than verbal! I would like to avoid doing it until im more knowledgeable about it just so i dont offend anyone on accident ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა If any of you guys feel that I need to change anything or would like to educate me please do in the comments or in private in a polite manner! ^^

It's dark out and you're already snuggled into your bed. Going to sleep alone isn't very uncommon and you've gotten used to it. You and your daddy have put together quite the bedtime routine to make up for your lack of tucking ins! As you're cuddled nice and warm into bed, there's a slight creak in the door.

Not enough to wake you up, it's slow and quiet. You hear footsteps make their way throughout the room, closer to your bed. This is what makes you stir and start to wake up.

The footsteps stop. They know you're awake now.

You groan as you sit up, squinting and looking into the darkness. "Dada?" You wait for an answer. The footsteps resume this time faster.

Finally, the mystery person comes out from the shadows. The gentle light from your nightlight shining on them and it's your one and only caregiver, Toby!

He excitedly makes his way back to your side of your bed, sitting right by you. Before he does anything else he makes sure to put his (now clean) hatchets away before hugging you close. Toby always gives the best hugs, even though his tics are unpredictable it doesn't mean the firm yet gentle squeeze isn't nice to sink into.

"Yes, princess? Did I.. did I wake you? I'm sorry if I did. I was trying to be quiet, but I was just, just so excited to see you! You, you're just so cute when you're snoozin away like that!"

His mind goes a thousand miles a minute, and his mouth can't catch up, especially with his tics. So there's a stutter here and there. Not that it's a very big issue. It's just how your daddy talks! And you love it when he talks.♡

You yawn and lean into him, your eyes closed as you try to wake yourself up more. It's very late, if you were big enough to read the clock you'd probably know but now? Clocks are for big kids and you? You're very small, so the moon shining light through the window is enough for now.

"C'mon, cutie I know you can hug, hug me better than that! You missed your dada, didn't you?" He says in a playful tone, squishing you slightly in his arms. You reach your hands up to him and give him your best sleepy hug. To which he holds you even longer, resting his cheek on the top of your head. When he does you feel this weird wet substance and it makes you fuss a little.

"Mmmm babaaaaa m no like itttt" you whine at him.

He releases you from his hug and takes his goggles off, looking at you confused. "What do you mean, baby? What's going on?" When you look him in the eye you see it, he's got a small cut on his cheek and it's leaking blood. He probably doesn't feel it due to his disorder that prevents him from feeling pain in the first place. You yawn and point sleepily at his cheek. "You gots messy on you face, dada"

He feels around his face before touching his cheek right above his muzzle before looking at his gloved hands. Sure enough there's a spot of blood on the fabric where he touched.

"Oh no that's no good, thank, thank you for telling me kiddo! Daddy wouldn't have known if it wasn't for you! Wanna make it all better and put some...some cute bandaids on it?" He says to you with a smile, cleaning the blood off of his gloves for the most part. You nod with a smile and start doing grabby hands at him, the lack of cuddling and holding already making you feel lonely.

He smiles at you wider than he already is and ruffles your hair a little before going off to the bedside drawer. He always has bandaids handy for you. You two are the perfect pair! A clumsy little with an even clumsier caregiver! What a match!

He carefully opens the box, taking out a few bandaids for you to choose from. Of course these are patterned all cute with your favorite characters on them! You smile at the selection and before Toby can tell you to choose one, you're already opening the packages to each of them.

"Sure we can put all of them on my ouchies! Be super super careful though, sweetheart. I don't want any of your cute pj's getting messy because of me alright?" He says with a cautious but still laid back and nice tone. You nod happily in response before sticking on all of the bandaids. Two actually did the job for what he had, but you also know Toby is never gonna say no to you when you put them all over him. By the end of it, Toby has some on his muzzle, his nose, forehead, even some on his fingers! Everywhere that your daddy has owies on or you know he might have some in the future. Extra love for him can never hurt!

He takes out his phone and looks at himself in the screen. Most people can't tell but because you're not most people you can see the little squint and grin across his face. He seems really happy with your bandaid makeover! He looks over his fingers fondly, chuckling at you trying to think ahead for him.

"How lucky am I to have such a..such a thoughtful lil one?" He says happily before sitting closer to you, his phone still unlocked in his hand. "I wanna remember this moment so how, how about we take a selfie together, cutie? I want to have something to see for when I miss you and you're not with me!" You smile and nod your head quickly at the idea, coming closer to him and cuddling up to his arm, nuzzling your nose into his neck and cheek.

"C'mon tiny, say 'Cheese!'"

"Cheeeee!!"

It takes a few tries to get a photo that isnt blurry from his tics but finally he takes the photo and looks it over. You look it over, too and you feel the swarm of butterflies flutter in your tummy. Being with your daddy always makes you so, so happy. Especially when he's so soft and sweet like this!

"Hey baby I found some, some filters! Let's take a few more!"

Once again you're snuggled up to your silly caregiver, posing for photos with him while he puts bunny ear filters and funny face filters. He saves each and every one and you can't help that fuzzy lil tingle in your chest when you see his gallery is basically only filled with you two. You smile and give him a lil peck on the side of his muzzle. To that he smiles from under it and puts his hand softly over the spot.

"Awe that was real sweet of you kid, what, what was that for?" He says with a happy tone.

Your face flushes a little as you twiddle your fingers, mumbling softly. Something about cute and loving your baba. He chuckles and pulls his goggles off, now seeing you much easier in the dim lit room.

Toby pulls his muzzle down just enough to lean in for a quick peck. He kisses your forehead softly and smiles at you before putting it back into place. ♡ His kisses always feel extra special when he does that. Toby doesn't like people seeing him without his muzzle, especially because of the gash on the side of his cheek. But with you, he knows that extra but of vulnerability goes a long way. You're his baby after all, if you trust him so much he should trust you just the same.

Once his muzzle is back on your stomach let's out a low growl. At first you're a little embarrassed but Toby isn't phased at all. As a matter of fact, Toby wastes no time picking you up and hoisting you to his hip. He rests you onto the side and carries you with one arm (because he's your daddy, of course he can carry his little one no problem!).

Carrying you is never an issue for Toby. It can only be a little difficult when he's has his tics or they come more than just once. But it never stops him! He just makes sure to hold onto you a little bit tighter and tries to move his head away when he does.

It's hard to predict when his tics will come but even when you're small you're understanding and patient. He's doing his best just like you are.

"Let's go get some midnight snacks for that lil tummy of yours huh? A midnight...midnight snack with my princess sounds delicious." He says as he tickles your tummy a little. He was about to start walking to the door before you started to fuss in his arms, squirming as you continue to whine.

"What is it baby what's wrong? Did Dada do something to make you upset? Are, are you sleepy? Hungry? Sad?" He questions as he bounces you gently. His questions come left and right as he continues trying to find the answer. You fussily point to your forgotten stuffie on the bed and turn back to whine at him. With that he finally gets the hint.

"Ooooh you, you just wanted your plushie! You silly billy you've gotta use your big kid words for stuff, stuff like that okay?" He goes back and retrieves your stuffie, snuggling it right into your arms before heading out the door.

This, of course, sends you even deeper into your little space. Even though he tells you to use big kid words, something about him babying you and talking to you that way just makes you melt. And he's fully aware of that too.

Finally, you're both out of the room and headed down the halls of the mansion to the kitchen. All the residents of Slendermansion are very aware of you and Toby and the different aspects of your guys' dynamics. They don't really care what you both do as long as you aren't making other uncomfortable and being civil they're all pretty on board! That or stick to themselves for the most part.

Once you and Toby are in the kitchen he finds a place to set you down by the counter. Before starting his snack preparations he turns to you. "Can you be a good baby for Daddy and sit, sit here for me? Be reaaally careful so you don't fall okay? I need both of my hands for this so that I can make you...make you the bestest snack ever!" You give him an affirmative nod and snuggle your plushie closer for comfort. You see his eyes squint as he smiles, he pets your hair gently before ruffling it.

"That's a good baby, so we'll behaved" He says affectionately, "I'll be...I'll be done in just a minute okay, tiny?" You nod affirmatively again and flush slightly at his praise and gentle touch.

Toby rummaged through the cabinet, taking out a cute bowl fit for a small child. With some more rummaging he finds some baby puffs along with an adult sized baby bottle. Of course, this one is decorated and themed to your liking. He fills the bowl with the puffs to an amount you both can share. He knows you enjoy sharing your snacks with him and honestly, baby puffs "smack" (according to him) and he'd eat them with you any day.

Once the bowl is filled he heats some milk with honey in the microwave (Toby isn't allowed to use the stove unless there's another person with him - regressed babies do not count). While the milk heats up he brings the bowl to you and offers a puff up to your mouth.

"Here sweetheart, say 'ahh' for me." He says happily.

You do as told and he pops in a puff. You chew on that and offer him one, to thar he quickly pulls down his muzzle and lets you feed him a few at a time. Not too many at once due to his gash. After a few more moments of you feeding each other, Ben walks into the room. He comes in without looking up, busy playing with his games on his phone.

" 'Sup." He says as he makes his way to the fridge.

"Hey dude, whatcha up to? Is, Is it snack time for you too? Whatcha gonna do after that?" Toby starts to bombard him with questions, always one to not only strike up conversation but carry that conversation too.

"Jesus Toby one at a time I can barely answer the first God damn question-" Ben says at first before looking at you. He stops in the middle of his sentence before lowering his voice.

"Didn't notice you had the baby with you." He takes a random snack from the fridge and closes it, leaning against the counter close to you while he eats it. Toby feeds you some more puffs, keeping you occupied as you wave at him politely.

Ben has seen you this way before so you don't mind being little with him that much. He's even babysat you before a couple of times, though most of those times were spent playing games (that he would let you win sometimes). Ben definitely acts like the big brother when he's around you. And because he's like your big brother he waves but sticks his tongue out at you right after. You stick your tongue out back at him before giggling a little.

"Hey you two be nice to each other," Toby says, piping up slightly, "I've still got to put them back to sleep Ben, don't rile them up too much either." Ben waves Toby off and rolls his red pupils.

"Yeah, yeah I know it's fine. We're just messing around." Ben responds, perfectly dismissing Toby's protective nature around you. Just when Toby is about to respond the microwave beeps, signaling that your bottle is ready! "Actually, I need a favor from you." Toby says as he takes it out, handing the bottle like it's nothing at all.

Ben looks at Toby with a curious look, waiting to hear what the favor is. Toby hands him the bottle. "Test that on your arm, I need to know if it's warm but not too hot for the baby."

(Of course Toby and Ben's repeated use of "the baby" makes you feel even more babyish and has you regressing even further. Big kid vocabulary is out the window and it's semi-nonverbal time for you.)

"What?? Why?? I don't wanna do that do it yourself." Ben protests quickly, going back to his phone.

"Dude I can't, I feel numb all of the time how, how would I even know?" Toby rebuttals to Ben just as quick.

Ben huffs and takes the bottle in his hand, turning it over his wrist and letting it drip onto him. "Ugh fine gimme that." He waits a second for it to process and see if it's hot or not. Luckily the bottle was just right so he hands it right back to Toby, licking the milk off of his wrist. "Its fine you can give it to the kid now."

Toby takes it with a smile and batting his eyelashes at Ben while he puts the bottle in his large pockets. "Thank you Bennie~" he says with a sickenly, sweet voice. Ben, of course, rolls his eyes at this and keeps at his game.

"C'mon cutie it's time to put you to sleep. Say 'bye-bye' to big brother Bennie!" He says as he hoists you back onto his hip, walking away. You smile and wave at Ben, "Bai Bai Bennie!!" You say happily to him. He looks up and waves back a little at you, a little smile across his face. "Bye gremlin, sleep well."

Toby makes his way back to the room and sits on your guys' bed. He lets out a long sigh as he sits, now situating you onto his lap as he gets ready to feed you. With you rested into his arms and the bottle at the ready, you both were absolutely ready for bedtime. He takes his muzzle off and smiles, kissing your forehead. "Drink up tiny, it's time that... that daddy puts you sleep! I'll head to bed once you're snoozin away don't worry kiddo."

He brings the bottle up to your lips and before he can even tell you to open wide you already do so, guzzling down the sweet drink he made you. Toby absolutely melts at how cute you are, squishing you a little closer just to relish in you. And of course, you cuddle into him just as much.

He always does such a good job at taking care of you and doing all the little things. Even though his tics can get in the way or startle you awake again, you never get angry with him or fuss. Maybe it was new to navigate at first but you know that it was out of his control and he always does his best to keep them under control when it's necessary.

Finally, you finish your bottle and bury your face into his chest. Curling up and fully starting to fall asleep again. Toby puts your finished bottle on the nightstand and rests his cheek on top of your head for a few seconds. Just to savor this moment. He loves these moments so much. He softly rocks you as you drift to sleep, rubbing your back gently as he does.

"I love you baby. I'll head to bed too." He says before laying down fully with you in his arms as he pulls the covers over you both. With a quick kiss on your cheek the night is once again peaceful and you're together again.

♡

A/N: Waaah! It's finally finished!! It took me so, so long to do everything but its finished and I'm so proud of myself for sticking it out QwQ I really hope you guys liked this story, it's truly just so nostalgic to me and honestly has such a nice place in my heart 🩷 This is my first agere fic with a character and I hope I did well!! I was so anxious about this but I think I did well with balancing everything out hehe ૮ ᴖﻌᴖა I'm going to head back to sleep now but I'll have another fic up soon! ૮( ˃ ꒳ ˂)ა if you have any requests or suggestions please comment or submit them to my account I love it when people do those! :3 (also maybe a sorta part 2 with Big brother Ben drowned? ८,,◐⩊◐,,ა ) hehehe okay bye for realsies now, stay safe everyone!૮ ᴖﻌᴖა🩷

[lighthouseshepard]

i told myself i wasnt going to put this up anywhere but im continuously a sucker for domestic jarthur and. this is based off some of @izel-scribbles wonderful art!! honestly you should go check out everything theyve done overall! insanely talented and inspiring🫶

"Are you sure you don't mind?"

John's eyes remain focused on what lay in his lap: two warm palms clasped together fresh and alive. Out of everything else the sight of those ten fingers, long and far more capable than he could have anticipated, continued to trip him up the most. He'd developed the nervous habit quickly enough, intertwining those newly formed hands, fidgeting with the tips of his own fingers, but he couldn't say for sure where the gesture came from. Arthur's own aimless restlessness, possibly. It was difficult to tell. Holding your own hand felt much different than grasping the other of the body you once shared.

A lull of contemplative silence answers him. John clears his throat and tries anew, studying the backs of his knuckles.

"Arthur? You don't mind?"

Above him, a soft hum stirs the back of his head. The impression of touch ripples outward, a stone skipped across a lake he couldn't hope to see the other side of. Most sensations possessed a strange poignancy this way, he'd come to notice. They started off small and blossomed beneath his skin, infinitesimal points of light interconnecting in an unpredictable dance: the brush of an arm, the press of someone's lips, a wayward elbow. He still had yet to decide if it was all too overwhelming, or if he wanted to drown in it once the ripples ceased their stretching stir.

"Hmm?" Arthur answers. "Mind what, John?"

"This," he says, huffing. "What you're doing, you don't... it isn't too much trouble?"

Another hum. John knew enough by now to tell Arthur's mind was somewhere off in the near distance, wandering through thoughts he couldn't be privy to. For the moment, he was content to let him be. The feeling of trying to perceive every individual strand of his own hair was taking up enough of his focus already. 

"Trouble? No, it's no trouble at all. I volunteered, remember?"

"Yes, but," John presses, shifting. His legs were growing stiff against the firm surface of the kitchen chair. In the afternoon light all which surrounded them simmered in a gauzy haze of late summer heat, translucent and golden. His own skin glowed with it, deep brown and unmarked in the way Arthur's flesh was decidedly not. "It feels like you're..."

Arthur raises an eyebrow. "What, John?"

"Struggling."

"I'm not- Jesus Christ," he says dryly. "I'm not struggling! It's just been a while since I've had to comb someone else's hair, alright? You and I both know I hardly managed my own well enough in the past few months."

John attempts to glance over his shoulder at the man standing behind him. He barely catches a glimpse of the familiar made strange now that he could view it from the opposite side - tousled auburn hair resplendent in the light, a brown eye filtered through with fragments of faint gold - before a gentle hand guides him with a tap to turn back around. 

"Moving won't make this any easier, you know."

Frowning, he dips his chin with a pout. "Sorry."

Those hands return, after some hesitation, to his hair. Fingers narrow and slender weave through locks like shadowed silk, once again trying to pull it all into a tie. A slow shiver travels down his spine at the whispered scrape of nails along his scalp, all at once another sensation to simultaneously wrangle with and be devoured by. Much of humanity's new nuances he would willingly let swallow him whole, he thinks absently, if it could grant him another second distended in time of Arthur lovingly slipping a strand of his hair over his palm.

Hair was a tricky thing, it turned out. Like clothing, like walking, like maneuvering through a world made miraculously tangible, he found the intricacies of it difficult to navigate. He'd only asked for help after snapping the second comb they'd bought in two, and even then no small amount of odd guilt hung low over his shoulders at the request.

"Okay," Arthur says after a minute. "You know what? I've made a decision."

"Oh?" His gaze flicks across the room to the window, lost as he so often was when they were in the kitchen, in the depth of the plum throated blooms filling the magnolia tree just outside. 

"Yes. I've decided I'm utterly hopeless at this."

The earnestness of his announcement catches John so off guard he can't do anything but laugh. His amusement rolls, a joyous and soft thunder rumbling through the air. Arthur's helpless chuckle accompanies him, sonorous and sweet. 

"It's not," he tries, biting his tongue, "it's not funny-"

"It's objectively funny," John drawls. His anxiety dissipates in a forceful sigh. "Perhaps you could... we could always cut it, I suppose, if that would make it easier."

"Absolutely not. I'll braid it, if anything. Yeah? I used to braid hers all the time, I'm sure I could do that, at least... That sound agreeable to you, darling?"

John turns in the chair to look behind him once again. This time, Arthur lets him. A sheepish smile curves his lips as he comes into view, the tie he'd been attempting to use held loosely. No irritation at having to deal with something John thought he rightfully should have been able to handle himself lingered in the lines of his face. Instead he saw only an unfathomable willingness, a love he wasn't certain he'd fully yet earned, the origins of which he'd likely spend the rest of his human life trying to uncover. 

"Yes," he says, faltering as his and Arthur's eyes meet. "That's-"

"John?" A single finger taps beneath his chin, coaxing his head up. "What is it?"

As abruptly as he shifted around, he focuses back towards the window. Arthur gingerly takes a handful of his hair once more, separating it into three sections. 

"John?"

"It's nothing," he mutters. "Forget it."

"Are you sure?" Arthur insists. "Do you not want your hair out of your face after all, or-"

"No, I do. It's... just never mind, Arthur."

"Alright." He gives a small shrug. 

John's eyes flutter briefly closed at the warmth of Arthur's lips brushed along the side of his jaw. These always hurt the most, the simple touches of his mouth. Against new skin they threatened to break him under the unfathomable lightness of some divine ache. He took every kiss, thoughtless or desperate, claiming or hungry, with renewed gratitude and a promise to himself he'd try to deserve it. 

"Just don't expect a bow at the end," Arthur mumbles teasingly. "And for the record, John," he adds in a softer tone, "I'd do this whenever you asked me to."

"Arthur-"

"Although, I think some blue silk would work here to hold this together."

John crosses his arms. "Absolutely not."

"I have that new necktie. If I use the bottom part of it-"

"Don't you dare. Arthur?" He glances to where Arthur had darted down the hall, his laughter bright. "Where are you going? Arthur? Arthur!"

[beentobeetle]

what's six's relationship with the companions? :00

(Ignore me answering this 20 billions years later)

All around, Six’s relationships with all the companions are relatively good, down the line at least! It takes Six quite some time to warm up to people, and he’s naturally a decently quiet person. Most automatically view him as awkward, or intimidating, on something along those lines, especially with his reputation as “That Spooky Courier”.

But getting into specifics! Six’s dynamical change with Arcade and Boone goes hand-in-hand because they’re the first two he travels with, and his personal subconscious favorites. To Arcade, Six is this big stupid maniac who, while trying to be a good person most of the time, goes about it… unique ways. Boone sees him as an idiot, but a strong one. Smart and big when it’s needed. Boone very much appreciates Six’s bouts of silence.

It’s all quite different near the beginning though! Six travels with the two of them at the same time and they are both uh. confused, for the most part, just in different ways. There’s this tension, mostly with Boone and Arcade towards Six, because he’s just so… off. This is before he ever starts taking his helmet off, so he’s just the quiet, faceless wanderer. Unpredictable, vengeful, and fucking terrifying at times. Easiest explanation? Whatever this is

Moving on, though, to Lily! Pretty well-expected, he sees her as his little grandma and is VIOLENTLY protective of her. Buuuttt there’s a very slight sense of ‘selfish’ or ‘wrong’ calculation beneath it. Lily is a nightkin, she’s strong, she can kill. An effective attack dog, when it’s needed. As much as Six values and cares for Lily as her own character, he is well aware that she is a TANK, and… might as well take advantage of that, right?

And then there’s Raul and Cass! Again, the relationship between the three goes pretty hand-in-hand. Six sees them as effective assets and wildly entertaining drinking buddies, even at the beginning. He appreciates Raul’s old-timer, sardonic but just chipper enough grandpa attitude, and very much likes Cass for being, well… Cass.

Aaannd Veronica!! At first, Six sees her as naive and far too in-over-her-head. Over time, though, he notices his shell starting to break. For whatever reason, Veronica is scarily good at cracking the walls Six usually builds around himself. Over time, they develop this really silly brother/sister dynamic.

And, of course, Rex and ED-E. He loves both of them to death. Most any animals automatically melt Six’s heart, and he’s always had a soft spot for robots. And after the events of Lonesome Road? Good lord. That was something that really hit Six, in a way not many situations would. While maybe not entirely true, Six gladly states that Rex and ED-E are his favorites to travel with. “They don’t complain about eating pork-n-beans for a week straight.”

While a couple of these relationships are likely far more complex than I’m putting them, those feel like posts for other days !! But uhhh ty ty for the question, and sorry it took my so long to answer it FJFJDBFJSJD I wanted to actually draw something for it but I’ve been in the weirdest art slump lately… glad i remember how to draw Six!

As always, if anyone has any questions… holds out hands… I’ll try not to answer it after a lifetime….

[swollenbabyfat]

Hello! I saw you were taking asks about anything (with bonus pictures of Mr. Haku?? bless) so I was wondering if I could politely pick your brain about your illustrative process. I've been tearing my hair out over rendering practice lately and your studies always blow me away. I know you've had some training and I think we both use Procreate, so I'd love to hear about how you use layers and/or layer blend modes, but also general process, thoughts, tips, etc. hope you're well, have a nice day :-)

Thank you so much for the ask and kind words!

I don’t cross promote it as much as I should probably but I upload a lot of speedpaints to YouTube, such as this study that might be helpful. Depending on how complicated the piece is, I’ll either break it down by putting shapes down (typically darks first) or do a more formal sketch if I don’t think I can easily eyeball it. After the sketch, I do an under painting on a layer below the sketch, set the sketch to multiply and then I render everything on one layer. It really depends on the brushes you use, but I prefer to build opacity slowly with a brush that doesn’t blend, lowering and upping the brushes opacity as I see fit. This creates a more complicated, kind of glowy effect that I think works particularly well for skin rendering.

I’ve been exclusively using leatherwood under “artistic” in procreate recently. You have to use a pretty big canvas to make it work (I’m usually working on 8000px+ 300dpi) but I really enjoy some of the unpredictability of the brush, makes things feel more natural. Not sure if I altered the brush at all but if there was a multiply or stabilization on I turn those off always, basically.

As for layer modes, I don’t tend to use them a ton for paintings except maybe for maybe throwing a slight multiply layer to bring tones down if the key gets too high. I’m more likely to mess with curves and color balance to experiment with color. I do this especially for my lined illustrations, I use layer modes also for them too and just go to town trying a bunch of stuff. My tip for this is to duplicate your file, flatten everything, duplicate your flattened layer and just mess with it until it feels right. Color editing to this degree is kind of new to me, but since I’ve begun it’s really upped my game I think.

Before/after color editing. I know sometimes people think of this as a cheating tool in digital art but honestly that is a silly take to me.

I hope this answers some of your more specific questions. Thank you again!

This post is already long as shit so Mr. Haku under the cut

[earlysunshines]

loved your sana story oh my god!!! i wanted to ask if you could maybe write something about chaeyound and fem reader meeting because they are both art lovers? yk a fluff kinda falling in love story?

have i told you lately? i'm grateful you're mine.

best friend!chaeyoung x reader

summary: uh oh what happens when the sudden urge to kiss and love your friend appears

wc: 4.1k

warnings: not proofread well ; fluff ; mentions of alcohol ; rushed :-[

a/n: thank you for the request! I've been writing a little less, but this was such a cute request so I had tried my best to finish it. enjoy!

-

Paint everywhere. 

Paint on the floor, a mess that was something from a nightmare – as if some paint monster had completely terrorized you, or something like that (look, it would be scarier if you were like, six). Your jeans had been splashed with the white paint, your shirt looked even worse; there was nothing that could save that for sure. 

“Oh fuck-” is what you had said before tripping and ending up in this mess, as if that would save you. 

You had been walking around in the empty room, trying to find the paint you needed for the project that was due in two days. Unfortunately for you, the floor had just been mopped, and it was slippery as hell. Another unfortunate thing for you is that you were wearing slides, Adidas to be exact, and they were not meant for this type of slippery surface; it led to your downfall. 

You groaned with annoyance – maybe a bit too dramatically – but anyone would’ve done the same if they had to deal with this.

The paint bucket on the floor was on its side, paint still spilling out all over the floor. Luckily, the paint bucket was only half full, so the mess could’ve been ten times worse (you’re still pissed, but look on the bright side…?).

You stand up in defeat and start by picking up the paint bucket, flipping it back so that it’s not spilling any more paint. The next thing you do is wonder how the hell you’re going to clean this catastrophe. You wonder: do you start wiping the pool of white paint on the floor? The paint on your jeans? Your cheeks?

“Are you okay?” a voice asks. You look towards where the voice had come from, and you realize it’s that girl in your class, the one you’ve been eyeing for half the semester: Son Chaeyoung.

This makes it even more embarrassing.

“Yeah, I just, uh.” You mumble, “The floor was slippery, and I don’t know, I’m here now.” You sigh, wiping paint off your cheek. 

Chaeyoung can’t fight back the giggle that she lets out. You pout playfully and laugh with her.

Chaeyoung had been someone that caught your eye the first day you saw her. You noticed that her style was unique, and she had tattoos that had really drawn your attention. She was someone that was unpredictable, you would never know what the hell her next move would be. 

Her art was an identical reflection of her, unique, vibrant, and surprising. Arguably the best pieces of work you’ve seen in that class; you really admired her.

Son Chaeyoung was someone you always wanted to talk to, you just didn’t know how. You were too timid to really speak to her, she seemed in her own world and you were never the type to go out there and make small talk. The only other class you had with her was English, a class which had a teacher and work that gave you headaches, so no chance to talk to Chaeyoung.

Chaeyoung looked at you in your messy state: paint on your shirt, pants, even your socks, and a pool of the medium on the floor. 

“You need help?” She asks. You quickly put a hand up and wave,

“It’s no problem, it’s my mess.”

“I was going to work here too, so technically it could be my mess too.”

“Doesn’t need to be?” You say with a lack of confidence. Chaeyoung just shakes her head and smiles, already tying up her dark hair. You let out a sigh and finally get up from the floor, she gives you a rag to wipe off the paint from your face and clothes. “Thanks.” You mumble.

“No problem.” She responds, already getting started on the mess that’s on the floor.

There’s a wave of silence that’s present for a couple of minutes.

 You had finished cleaning yourself up and made sure to help Chaeyoung with the mess,

“You really didn’t have to help.” You sigh, wiping aggressively at the stained floor. Chaeyoung shakes her head,

“It’s fine, don't worry. I needed a space that wasn’t crowded with that annoying group in our class. I could hear them from the other hall.” And she refers to the group of students that constantly talked and were just so damn loud about their art, the ones that only took the class to get easy credits. “This was the nearest room open.” Chaeyoung sighed.

You hum in response and she starts again,

“It’s Y/n right?” she asks, still looking down at the mess.

“Yeah. Chaeyoung?”

She hums. 

“I remember seeing you at Nayeon’s party.” She simply says, and your cheeks warm up. 

That party was surely something. Three-quarters of a bottle of soju chugged straight from the bottle, you still remember the cheers and screams from Nayeon and her friends as you chugged. It wasn’t much really, not something to scream over, but you weren’t the type to drink so much in one night and Nayeon had made sure you were the center of attention, much to your dissatisfaction. The soju wasn’t even flavored, it wasn’t even worth chugging – it was just the taste of alcohol on your tongue and the harsh, strong flavor of it going down your throat – not good. 

You close your eyes and groan from embarrassment, “Yeah… It was something.” You sigh, “Nayeon peer pressured me, I don’t know what was with me. She could’ve at least handed me a flavored bottle.” You complain. Chaeyoung laughs in response,

“It was funny. I didn’t want to go to that party, but that honestly made my night.” She says, “I never really knew you much, it piqued my interest.”

“It did?” You question, looking up from the ground to her face, well, her head.

“You seem cool. There’s not a lot of people in that class that seem serious about this, but when I looked at your artwork I knew you had something that half that class doesn’t.”

“And that is?”

“Serious skills.” She says, looking up at you. You can’t help but laugh at her compliment,

“I’m sorry I’m really flattered, but that compliment sounded like something my younger cousin would say, and he’s like - 12.” You chuckle. Chaeyoung pouts and ends up laughing with you and you two joke a little more while you clean.

The conversation and bickering that goes on between you two is comparable to one between good friends. You two have just met, but it seems that you two just naturally get along so well; there’s a comforting feeling from being around each other, it’s like you’ve known each other for years already.

After you two finish cleaning up, the conversation comes to a close because you two are both busy working on your own projects for the class; it seems you two also have being severe procrastinators in common.

-

Chaeyoung asks for your number after that event, you two talk now and then during, after, and before class. The two of you are almost always with one another at school, it’s obvious that you both are close.

Something you learn about Chaeyoung is that she’s really into music, in addition to liking art, you two have that in common. You’d spend hours at the nearest coffee shop just talking about your favorite musicians, albums, and performances. You even learn that Chaeyoung plays guitar, which makes your interest in her grow. You think she’s so incredibly talented and wonder how you managed to become friends with someone like Chaeyoung.

The dark-haired woman learns that you like music just as much as her, and she admires the playlists you show her. The playlists are always filled with something slow and relaxing, she thinks your image fits your music taste. She learns that you’re a more athletic person, and you somehow manage to run a mile or two every day – it genuinely blows her mind. 

Some people meet due to the strangest circumstances, you and Chaeyoung had met from your paint incident. Sure, you two had been within the same shared space, but never went out of your way to really get to know each other. It was more of admiring from afar. 

Over the weeks of getting closer, there’s an interest that grows, it’s a very strong interest. It’s also mutual.

Chaeyoung is the first to realize that this ‘friend’ she’s made is someone that she might (really) want – more than a friend.

It happens when you two are out with mutual friends. 

Of course, Nayeon is the one who had invited you, and Momo had invited Chaeyoung. The both of you light up when you see each other, being surprised that the other was there. Chaeyoung has a warm feeling in her chest.

The two of you stick together for most of the night, shoulders close together and knuckles brushing every now in then, which gives Chaeyoung this weird feeling in her stomach, as if butterflies were present. 

Nayeon decides that it would be nice to drink a little (as always), and the group of seven enters the restaurant together. You sit across from Chaeyoung and next to Nayeon, who’s sitting next to that English major Jeongyeon on your side of the table, who, you might add, does a great job at pissing off your professor. The business major that you’ve heard Nayeon talk about, Momo was her name, she sits next to Chaeyoung. Next to Momo is Sana, you’ve seen her at a couple of parties, and the woman next to her, Jihyo was her name (you think).

Chaeyoung remembers it clearly.

You had all been eating, drinking, and conversing. Momo had already had a couple of shots, and everyone seemed to be in awe of Jihyo’s alcohol tolerance; she could chug. You were talking to Nayeon and laughing over something, but then you turned back to meet Chaeyoung’s eyes, and you just smiled.

Oh.

Oh wow.

Chaeyoung practically short circuits. 

Your smile is suddenly ten times more radiant than last time, and when did you have such pretty eyes? Your jawline is suddenly ten times sharper than the last time she had seen it, your hair is slightly messed up and god it’s so cute. Chaeyoung doesn’t remember analyzing your features this much, ever. She doesn’t remember you ever being this pretty and sure, you were much more attractive than most, she noticed that at first glance, and she’s definitely realizing this now. 

Your smile sends a feeling of comfort down Chaeyoung’s spine in such a crowded and slightly overwhelming place, and you seem to notice her staring with slightly flushed cheeks,

“Chaeng?” You ask, “Is everything good? You barely drank, your cheeks are red.”

“Oh,” Chaeyoung starts, “Yeah it’s just kinda hot in here.” She lies. You just laugh and turn back to see the others all in a heated conversation, however, from the outside, it’d look like they were arguing aggressively. You look at the unfinished drink in your cup, hurriedly finishing it and turning back to Chaeyoung. 

“Let’s get out of here?” You nudge,

“Yeah,” Chaeyoung says, avoiding eye contact. 

The two of you excuse yourselves and promise to pay later, but right now there’s an unspoken desire to be alone with each other.

You have the same realization that Chaeyoung had, just an hour later.

It’s when you and Chaeyoung find a huge wall painted with regular acrylic paint, with hints of graffiti graphics/drawings that truly make it pop out. It’s something that grabs the attention of both of you; it’s vibrant, it’s colorful, it’s beautiful, and it makes the two of you gaze at it in awe. The painting seems to be of an aquatic background, with graffiti marine animals. It’s so detailed yet so simple, it stands out to both of you.

“I’ve always wanted to make something like this.” Chaeyoung states, “They’re so pretty.”

“Me too.” You say, still in awe as you gaze at the painting. Chaeyoung nods and turns back to you, 

“Maybe the two of us could make something as cool as this one day.” She begins, “If I were to make something as special as this… I think I’d want to make it with you.”

And that’s when your heart skips a beat.

You turn to Chaeyoung in surprise, she’s just smiling at you. Smiling at you with that stupidly adorable smile, and it’s so weird but you feel so damn attracted to her? The street lamp’s light spills onto her face, illuminating it in a way that might be something out of a movie or one of those paintings from a hopeless romantic who had drawn their lover from their perspective. 

It’s so sudden, it’s out of nowhere.

Chaeyoung is smiling at you after saying something so extremely flattering, and you can’t help but smile back. You don’t know what happened but something in your heart shifted, something changed and you can’t pinpoint exactly what that is, but it’s certainly something strong.

-

Falling in love with your best friend is such a strange feeling.

You’ve been friends for four months now, but ever since that two-month mark, something shifted.

Sometimes you meet someone and it’s so extremely clear that the two of you are just meant for each other. Maybe it’s something platonic, and you two just have that same shared connection, that silent understanding, and you just know they’re the right one for you. It’s seen as something so platonic, you’re just grateful for someone so similar, someone that you care for and they care for you just as much. 

At first, you think you enjoy their presence a lot.

It’s spending time 24/7, the casual affection like bold compliments here and there, the physical touch that’s shared so comfortably because you two are just friends – right? Friends are allowed to be all touchy, they can hold each other, that’s something that a lot of friends do. Friends are allowed to talk at night, deep into the night, they can speak. Friends can do a lot of things, friends can make each other smile, it’s just a friend thing – right?

Are friends supposed to feel so flustered around each other? 

Friends can cuddle, and friends can hold each other, so that’s what you two do often. 

one night makes the butterflies in Chaeyoung's stomach go insane, something that friends are not supposed to feel. Chaeyoung feels you trace your finger along her tattoos as she holds you, and she can’t help but fight back the urge to kiss you, but that’s just really loving your friend, no? It isn’t until Chaeyoung hears a mumble from you as you fall asleep on her shoulder, it makes her heart beat so incredibly fast, but that’s just how friends are, right? 

Why is it that she wants to hold you forever?

Friends can look at each other, but when you stare at Chaeyoung for so long, studying each feature and the thought of kissing her suddenly pops up, it really makes you think. At first, you figured it must be an intrusive thought, it has to be. Son Chaeyoung is your friend and nothing more, so why are you so drawn to her?

Why is it that the slightest laugh and smile from her makes your heart explode?

Friends.

Can friends feel like this?

It’s so sudden and the two of you are so unprepared, it’s a sudden feeling that you both are terrified of, but it makes you both feel so warm inside and gives you a slight hope for something more.

Do friends long for each other like that?

-

Falling in love with someone makes you want to be with them more than usual, so here you are on a Friday night, right outside of Chaeyoung’s dorm room.

Nayeon had invited you (once again) out to a party, as she always does at the end of the week. She was pretty confused by the lack of interest you’ve had in parties ever since you had met Chaeyoung, but nonetheless, she just shrugged and told you: “Have fun, don’t miss me too much,” and it made you scoff at her playfully.

You stand outside after knocking, Chaeyoung opens the door and smiles right as she sees you. She’s in a t-shirt that reveals the tattoos you love so much on her arm, and her hair is clipped up messily, she looks so perfect. 

“Hi.” You greet.

“Hi,” The shorter woman responds, 

“Let’s lay down?” You suggest, Chaeyoung nods immediately.

It goes on as usual: you two talk, just about anything. Today it was about your classes, and Chaeyoung had complained about this obnoxious guy that had been so damn loud the whole history period, and it was funny to see her so furious and riled up, it was kind of cute. You on the other hand had ranted about Nayeon, but playfully, of course, you could never talk bad about her – well, maybe the fact that she hadn’t done the dishes this week – you’ll let it slide.

You two end up on her bed – at first, laying down on each other's side and joking around while pushing each other after laughing so hard. You’re going on about Nayeon again and how she had yelled at you for saying a certain dress had looked worse than the other, even though she asked for your opinion. You two laugh a lot, and your hearts start to warm up, and confidence brews.

There’s a sudden moment where you two just quiet down and the laughter dies down, eye contact is made.

Chaeyoung can’t help but laugh awkwardly, looking away and blushing a little. Your hopes are suddenly up. 

Your gaze stays on her for a bit more as your palm squishes your cheeks a bit from resting your head on it as you prop yourself up – there’s something about her being so nervous and flustered just from your presence that really makes your heart flutter. You think it’s so tremendously cute. Chaeyoung is so fucking adorable, you think to yourself.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Chaeyoung says shyly, laughing to brush off the fact that she’s so flustered under your gaze. 

She looks at you, it’s like you’re admiring a piece of art (which you are) and she has no idea what to do. Your eyes drill into hers, those damn eyes and they have the dark-haired woman in a trance, one that she’s desperately trying to get out of. Chaeyoung pushes her hand in your face lightly, making you fall onto your back and laugh at her sudden action,

“I can’t help it,” you giggle, “You’re really cute.”

“Stop that,” Chaeyoung says, definitely flustered. You just laugh,

“I’m not lying.”

“You’re being really sweet and it’s scaring me,” Chaeyoung responds, laying down next to you and turning her head to meet your face.

You turn to your side again and look at her with a soft stare,

“Chaeng.”

She hums in response, you scoot closer to her so that your head is under her chin. She relaxes a bit and rests her hand on your hair, then runs a few fingers through it softly.

This is where it starts.

 “What’s with you being so affectionate today?” She questions, though, she’s not against your sudden clinginess. 

“Can I ask something?” You mumble against her neck,

“Yeah?”

“You’re not dating anyone, no?”

“No.”

“Do you like anyone?”

Chaeyoung pauses and laughs softly into your head, “What’s with the sudden interrogation?”

“Do you?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Chaeyoung can feel your breath against her neck as you speak, it sends a shiver down her spine, and you let yourself relax into her more, which does not help her in the moment.

“I,” She starts, her voice softening, “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“It’s someone I’m really close with, y/n.” She mumbles, “I’m scared of ruining things with her.”

“What if it doesn’t ruin anything?” You question, pulling at her heartstrings.

“It might. I don’t want to lose her, ever.” Chaeyoung mumbles, and you can feel her touch on you soften, “She’s a really great person.”

“And if that person likes you?”

“I doubt it.”

“They’d be crazy if they didn’t like you, you’ve got everything anyone could ever ask for.” You mutter against her neck, and your lips are dangerously close, basically brushing against her skin. Chaeyoung’s breath hitches, and you’re suddenly pulling away from her, “So who is it that you like?” You ask.

“I- I um, I can’t say.” She mumbles, nerves taking over.

This was your plan all along.

The more you realized it, the more it made sense that Chaeyoung had felt similar to you, though it took a lot of attention and detail to realize it. You even had to ask Nayeon, and she had to ask Momo and boom – you had gotten the green light to make a move.

You prop yourself up with your right hand, making it so that you were looking down at the dark-haired woman, her cheeks were tinted pink. A smile tugged at your lips as you looked at her, 

“It’s me isn’t it?”

“Y/n,” Chaeyoung says, getting up herself and propping herself as well, “I hate when you fuck with me like that.” She mutters. Her look sits on your lips as she says that, and she looks back at your eyes with a new desire. 

It’s all so sudden, every move is so bold, and every feeling is so overwhelming in the best way possible in this very moment.

You move your other free hand so that she’s trapped between your arms, though your faces are inches apart, still. Chaeyoung forgets to breathe for a moment, you’re so close and it’s driving her crazy, it’s suddenly so hot in the room.

Your lips sit inches apart for a few moments.

Chaeyoung rushes to put her hand on the back of your head and pull you closer.

Your lips meet.

It’s slow and you both take your time, there’s no rush – just you and Chaeyong savoring the moment. Her lips are so soft and they’re so goddamn perfect on yours. Your lips part and chase after the other again, the kisses are frequent and you don’t want to stop. Every movement is so impulsive, so sudden. There’s a hand pulling against the strands of hair near the bottom of your scalp every so lightly, and it makes your breath grow heavier. You move around a bit and suddenly you’re on top of her, straddling her with your legs on either side of her hips, you two are so lost in the kiss, and you never want to find your way back again. When the two of you part for air it feels like both of your hearts are missing beats, but also beating so fast at the same time, it’s such an unreal feeling.

There’s a moment of silence when you both part, you’re just looking at each other like oh my god I just kissed her? Your chests are warm and everything just feels so right, and there’s a small laugh that escapes the both of you as the tension in the air dies down.

“That was nice.” You sigh, it's awkward and cliche, and you giggle softly at your own words.

“Yeah,” Chaeyoung mumbles, and she quickly goes back to kissing you while also simultaneously flipping the two of you over in the process, there are giggles in the air and you two are so giddy like two teenagers in a rom-com.

Chaeyoung kisses you all over your face as if she were hungry and that were the only thing to keep her satisfied, and it’s the one thing she’s always been wanting to do ever since she had that moment of realization – the realization that you were someone she had wanted.

You laugh at how adorable she is and the way her hands tickle your neck and sides as she kisses you all over.

It’s falling in love with your best friend that’s so different from anything else, it’s that mutual connection and that desire to want someone for them, not just for the sake of being in love. It’s the pure love for that soul that suddenly turns romantic that makes it so genuine, it’s so pure and it’s so beautiful.

The realization of falling in love with your best friend is so scary, but it’s always worth it at the end when it’s successful.

especially if it’s Chaeyoung.

[muffinrecord]

Not MagiReco, just Life Stuff

I've been doing a lot of reading lately, not just of star mythology books but memoirs from EMTs, Firefighters, and Rangers. Trying to study and get research in for the story I wanna make. I've also been reading a lot about bears which are slowly becoming a favorite animal. How dare bears look so goofy and silly while being so dangerous!!!! Scandal!!!! I've also been reading about cults and stuff, which is also research. Also medical stuff on how to repair injuries if you're in the wilds with no one else coming to help you. My protag is a former EMT so she needs a decent-ish amount of medical backing.

If I do actually start writing my story, and if people notice it, and if I somehow make money off of it, I think my current dream goal is to start a lil fundraiser and donate money to various EMS organizations. Like maybe help fundraise money so that a place can get a new vehicle with state-of-the-art equipment. I can't think of a cooler thing to do.

I think the next few things I wanna start reading about is Alaska, where the story takes place. A friend is helping me with the inside scoop of living there, but it's always good to diversify your sources and learn as much as possible. I've been watching videos and stuff but I just absorb stuff through physical text easiest.

If folks are curious; my story (When the Sun is Gone) is about star-themed magical girls (magical women?) called Celestials. I'd categorize their magical duties more similar to EMT/Firefighter/Ranger work than police/army stuff. I really want to focus on them protecting the community and the kind of struggle that arises from it. The monsters should feel more like a wildfire than a person. There are infections that develop when monsters and humans live too close together, called "lunacy" (cause these monsters formed from the lingering corpse from the dead moon god), and this presents a problem because you gotta cure these people who are going through some issues and might fight back about it. And if you don't cure them in time, they might become fully fledged monsters that they can't come back from. Some of them want to be helped, some of them don't.

There's a dead moon cult up to no good too, which is difficult for the protagonist to deal with. The cult does some negative shit to the outside populace for sure, but the real issue is that the leaders are hurting their own people inside and those victims don't want to be saved because they think this is all for their benefit. How do you help people like that? Do you walk away, even if they're being hurt? Even if they do want to be helped, how do you do it? Sometimes the protag has the best intentions but it goes horribly wrong. You can do everything right and still fail. It's hard to not take that personally or to feel like a failure.

I don't want it to be too much of a bummer of a book though, so balancing failure and winning is going to be a tricky issue. But I think it will be fun. A lot of the research I've been doing is been to prepare for the right mindset for the Celestials to be in and for different ways for my protag do develop burnout and depression akfsjsafklas. Something I've noticed from a lot of the memoirs is that they almost always start out hopefully, optimistic, and anxious about their new job. Then they develop almost an addiction to the crazy nature of it all, to the unpredictability, the out-of-the-box thinking involved in street/wilderness medicine, and to the adrenaline rush. But as it goes on, that becomes burnout, then depression, occasionally suicidal ideation. The lucky ones get out before it becomes irreparable. We always read about the lucky ones because they're the ones who survived to write a book.

That said, it's scary to work on personal projects because of stuff like perfectionism. But if you're too worried about "perfect" then you'll just end up in the situation I'm in, where you never get started lol. But still, it's scary to write something personal and think that someone might read it and be disappointed in it. What if it's just not very good? The other thing that frequently comes up in my head is "am I really the right person to tell this story? What if I get it wrong?" What if I hurt someone's feelings by getting it wrong? What if I say something wildly inaccurate and contribute to misinformation out there? Or what if it's morally wrong to read memoirs about people's tragedies for the sake of your creative writing? I'm "using" a person's life to mine for storytelling material. It feels wrong to do that. Is it okay? Am I doing a bad thing here?

But maybe it's okay to write something that isn't very good, and maybe it's okay if I'm not the "right" person to make it. I don't know. I feel a pull to move my feet forward though, step by step, and see if I can do my best at least.

I think one thing I'm really thankful for from the game and this fandom is that I was just myself and people seemed to like that. I could shout out my loud opinions about stories or gameplay into the void and people would agree or disagree, but they were generally polite and excited.

This is a lil all over the place ajfaslfaf

But-- if you've been checking out the blog, then thanks for being here :) I hope that the upcoming liveblogs will be fun to read. If you decide to hang out and read my stupid lil story in the future, then thank you for giving that a chance too. But no worries if you aren't.

<3

[zikariogirl]

‘ 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 ’ — 𝐣𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐧-𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤

part one, PART TWO

summary ┆ as vincenzo’s sister, you were asked to help him out with a certain situation he was handling in korea - spying on a evil-corrupted CEO, who has no care for others. you were strategic, smart, and the best of the best. . . but who knew you would fall in love with a psychopath.

warnings ┆ nsfw scenes, violence, HEAVY swearing

key:

normal = english

bold = korean

italics = italian

Ever since you confessed your feelings towards Han-seok, your life has been at a full bliss — not to mention how magical that night felt. The two of you completely ditched the party and checked in at an exclusive hotel where you fucked all night and all morning. You both agreed to only reveal your relationship to Ms. Choi, Mr. Han, and Han-seo, and that it would be better to keep your relationship private and far away from the media.

The only issue now is you don’t know where your loyalty lies anymore. You’re still an undercover spy for Vincenzo right now, regardless on how you feel towards Han-seok. Your duty is to report back to your brother, something you’ve been slacking on a lot, but also because your crazy boyfriend won’t leave you out of his sight at all. Whenever you get the chance to be on your phone — away from Han-seok’s eyes — you would give Vincenzo very little intel, something that he’s starting to grow suspicious of but you kept promising him that’s all you know. You’re not sure how long it’ll be until he realizes the truth.

Hopefully he won’t for your sake.

But there’s also the fact that you’re lying to Han-seok. You’re genuinely terrified of what he’ll do and how he will react when he finds out your true identity. Will he believe you when you try to explain that you actually like him? Is he going to kill you for “toying” with his heart? He’s dangerous and although you could handle him, he’s very unpredictable.

You were too lost in your thoughts to even notice Han-seok driving at an extreme speed. The moment he swerved the SUV to the left to avoid hitting a car, you snapped out of your trance and looked at him.

“Han-seok!” You yelled. “What the fuck is your problem?!”

“That fucking Italian scumbag and Cha-young are going to pay,” he lowly muttered to himself but you were able to hear him.

“What do you mean?”

“I know it was them,” he gripped the steering wheel. “Breaking into the arty gallery. Knowing about the paper company. They know, so. Much. Information.”

He unexpectedly yelled out in frustration, causing you to flinch. Even though you’ve been around him for so much you’re still not fully used to his outbursts.

You also weren’t aware of any plan that consisted of breaking in to an art gallery that held secret information for Babel. Yes, you may have been slacking lately with your information but Vincenzo always made sure to tell you everything about their plans — just in case you needed to keep Han-seok distracted.

Are they keeping information from you now? It’s not like you deserve to know now anyways, but still. You felt a little betrayed.

Speak for yourself.

You ignored your thoughts and held on tightly as Han-seok kept driving at an extreme speed. “Baby, can you please slow down.”

“No.”

“Han-seok.”

“Shut up.”

“You fucking son of a bitch,” you quietly muttered to yourself.

“Hm, what was that?” He stepped on the gas even more. “Did you just curse at me?”

“Han-seok, stop!” Your heart began to beat erratically at how swiftly you were zooming past every car. “You better stop with your fucking tantrum or I’m sleeping at my place tonight.”

He cackled. “As if.”

“You wanna bet? I would love to see you try and stop me.”

His nostrils flared and he slowly lifted his foot off the gas, the SUV finally going back to normal speed.

“Fine. You’re no fun.”

“I would rather not die,” you huffed before crossing your arms over your chest.

He shot you a quick glance before reaching over — definitely to touch your boob — but you just smacked his hand away and he scowled.

“You lost your boob touch privileges for the next hour.”

It wasn’t long until you both arrived at the art gallery, heading inside and making a direct bee line into the director’s office. Ms. Choi and Han-seo were already waiting for you, and you took notice of a red-head lady facing down. The three of them snapped their heads towards your direction, and she looked mortified when her eyes landed on Han-seok. The stillness in the air made the atmosphere very suffocating, letting you know that something bad was bound to happen in a few seconds.

Han-seok put his best poker face on as he took a seat in one of the chairs. “Well?” He faintly smiled up at Ms. Choi.

“They managed to steal the file that holds all of the information about the paper company, sir.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Was it Vincenzo and Cha-young?”

“Yes. We looked through the security cameras. It was confirmed to be them, along with a few other suspicious people. We’re sure they were all working together.”

They did it. They actually did it. A few months ago you would’ve been internally cheering for them and then invite them for drinks after.

But you’re the complete opposite right now. You’re hurt. Betrayed. Angry. Probably because you feel a small ounce of protectiveness against Han-seok, and also because Vincenzo — your brother — never told you about this little heist they had planned out. You felt Han-seok’s hand touch your arm, signaling you that he wanted his emergency gummy bears.

Yes, this psychopath has a secret stash of gummy bears he likes to carry around.

You pulled out the bag and handed it over. His silence spoke more than words, and you already knew he was a ticking time bomb, with just a few minutes left until he blows up.

“Why would you hold such a stupid event and cause so much trouble?” Han-seo began to scold the red-head. “The gallery is not your playground!”

She immediately got on her knees and began to bow at Han-seok, causing you to lift an eyebrow in her direction. “I’m so sorry, sir.”

But Han-seok remained unbothered, if anything, Han-seo was the one who seemed furious as he slammed his hand on the table. “This won’t end with you.”

His little outburst made your boyfriend speak up. “Be quiet. I’m thinking.”

“This is ridiculous,” Han-seo answered. “It’s like she doesn’t think at all!”

You’ve never seen him so angry before. It was definitely a sight to see, a rare one as of matter of fact. You were just about to speak until Ms. Choi beat you to it.

“You should leave the country before they bar you from going abroad,” she suggested.

What?!

“Why? Go where?” You asked.

“Yeah, why?” Han-seo jumped in. “I’ll take the fall for him. Why bother?”

“All the evidence they have points to you. They will be able to track the IP address from the gallery back to your home,” Ms. Choi explained the situation.

You felt yourself clenching and unclenching your fists at the thought of the police arresting Han-seok. Was that actually possible? Maybe there could be a way around it. Your mind began to wander at any possible ideas that could save him from going to prison, but while you did this, you took notice in the way Han-seo’s facial expression changed at the information. He almost looked…relieved. You narrowed your eyes at him, waiting for him to look in your direction, and the moment he locked eyes with you he swiftly looked away, showing clear signs of being uncomfortable.

You returned your attention back to Han-seok who was already looking up at you. A part of you wanted him to stay, but if whatever Ms. Choi was saying is true and whatever was on that file can send him to prison, you did not want to risk it. You shot him a sad smile, letting him know that you’re okay with him going away for a bit.

“Han-seo. Get me and ______ the earliest flight leaving for New York now.”

“Wait what?”

“Yes, sir.”

You and Han-seo spoke at the same time. You could tell Ms. Choi was also caught by surprise at his request, and you furrow your brows down at him. “You want me to go?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I feel like I won’t be as much use to you in New York. If anything, I want to track Vincenzo down for you. Just give me the order, please, and I’ll do it.”

As much as New York with him sounds fun, you need to see Vincenzo immediately. Other than giving him a piece of your mind, maybe there’s a way you can delete whatever file they stole, which will save Han-seok from prison.

Look at you, wanting to yell at your brother for not filling you in on their plan but you’re also trying to help the enemy. Hypocrite.

Stop. You need to stop thinking about that.

Han-seok shrugged at your suggestion. “There will be no need for that. New York isn’t always safe either. You’ll be there as my bodyguard, to protect me.”

Of course he would use that excuse.

You noticed Han-seo taking his leave as he began to look for flights for you both. The room grew quiet again, which made Han-seok stand up from his chair and slowly walk towards something that you assumed was a piece of marble. Your eyes followed his form, eyeing him suspiciously, before he suddenly began to angrily stomp on the marble slab on the floor.

Yep, there it is. His angry outburst that was waiting to happen.

He lifted up the piece and began to slam it down onto the floor, causing the red-haired director to silently cry at the sight in front of her.

He bellowed out one last scream before turning his body towards Ms. Choi. “Before I leave, I want to see Vincenzo’s dead body.”

She nodded her head at his demand, but you? You felt your blood run cold at his words. Why is he asking her that? Did the two of them plan something behind your back? Did Han-seok also go behind your back without letting you know? Your body began to tremble at all the questions that spurred in your head, and you didn’t even notice Han-seo walking back inside the room, confirming your flight.

No, you didn’t want to fly with him if he fucking lied to you and went behind your back. Hell no.

You remained quiet, not wanting to say a word. It seemed like everyone else was on edge as well. You weren’t afraid of them killing Vincenzo since it’s nearly impossible to make it happen. Your brother is the best of the best, and Korea is definitely not prepared for his twisted games.

And they’re most certainly not prepared for yours either. The next few minutes will determine if Han-seok lied to you or not, and that’s enough to make you worry, because if it turns out to be true, you don’t know what you’ll do.

The sound of Ms. Choi’s phone buzzing made you turn your head in her direction as she desperately fished out her phone from her pocket. The way her eyes widened from fear already told you enough and Han-seo stole the phone from her grip as he furrowed his eyes at the screen.

“They failed again,” he stated.

You didn’t miss the way Han-seok’s head snapped towards his direction. The younger brother brought the phone over to him, and he looked furious as he stared at the screen.

“He’s so hard to kill.”

You had enough of this bullshit. You angrily marched towards the two brothers, shoved Han-seo to the side, and snatched the phone from Han-seok’s hands. Your eyes focused on the picture and you felt your hand began to shake when you recognized the three men that laid dead on the floor. They’re Paolo’s hit men. They were able to get in contact with him — with your piece of shit brother. This was more than you expected. This was strategically planned out. They kept this from you? Even though you’re the one who’s supposed to be in charge of this?

“Why wasn’t I made aware of this?”

You didn’t even recognize your own voice.

Han-seok raised an eyebrow at you. “Hm?”

“Why. Wasn’t. I. Made. Aware. Of. This.”

“Because me and Ms. Choi had it under control.”

You didn’t even think twice when you angrily threw the phone into the wall, causing it to smash into a million pieces. All three of them flinched at your sudden outburst but Ms. Choi quickly regained her composure as she pointed at you.

“You! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“You shut up you stupid fucking bitch! I’ll kill you!” You pointed back at her. “As for you,” you returned your attention to Han-seok. “Why the fuck am I here for huh!? Didn’t you hire me to do this shit?!

“You were obviously failing too much so we had to take matters into our own hands,” Ms. Choi barked back.

“Oh wow and look at where that got you,” you sarcastically laughed in return. “You wanna know what you are? A stupid fucking rookie. All of your moves against Vincenzo are laughable. You go for the obvious blow. You always leave fingerprints behind. You’re sloppy. You have no fucking clue how the Italian Mafia works, but I do.”

You began to walk towards her. “I’ve worked so close to these mafia bastards. I’ve been on countless missions for and against them. I know their weaknesses. I know how they think and how they work. Why do you think I haven’t killed Vincenzo yet, huh? Because he’s the best of the best. I’ve heard stories about him back when I was in Italy, and he was one of the top consigliere’s in the country. This isn’t some guy you can simply waltz with. Oh no. If you want to dance with him without having him step on your feet, then you need to learn how to move with him. You need to learn his moves. When he’s going to twirl you around, when he’s going to dip you down, and when he plans to finish his dance. That’s why I haven’t killed that bastard yet, because I’m slowly learning his moves. So when the right time comes, I can trip him in our little dance, causing him to fall completely.”

“Well it’s a little hard trusting a mercenary who turned herself into a prostitute–”

You didn’t even give her time to blink. Your hands wrapped around her neck as you pushed her down onto the floor, the sound of screaming going off in the background. Her eyes widened in fear as she frantically began to swing her arms to hit you in he face, but you quickly pinned her arms down above her head as your right hand began to squeeze hard against her skin. Her face was turning purple, and the feel of her body trashing underneath you in an attempt to escape sent a wild wave of exhilaration through you.

You felt a pairs of hands grab you from behind and you quickly turned around and punched them, not even caring to see who it was. Ms. Choi’s eyes were rolling at the back of her head and you nearly smiled until you felt two different pairs of hands pull you off of her.

“Stop,” Han-seok breathed into your ear. You broke free from his and Han-seo’s grasp, not even caring to check on the poor younger brother who was the victim of your right hook.

You were breathing heavily, from both adrenaline and anger. “Don’t fucking call me for anything anymore. I’m fucking done,” you snapped. “You want to hire shitty people and piss Vincenzo off more? Fine by me. Go ahead and sign your own death wish for all I care. I’m leaving back to Italy tonight.”

You saw him tense up at your words, and you didn’t give him a chance to speak since you continued to ramble on.

“You fucking lied to me. You told me you were laying off Vincenzo for a while and would let me know when you were ready to deal with him. Instead, you went behind my fucking back and planned this all out with Ms. Choi. The least you could’ve done was include me in your little meetings.”

You didn’t have a right to be mad, especially since you’ve been lying to him for the start. You’re crying to him about betrayal yet you’re the biggest snake in this room. Maybe it’s because you felt hurt and betrayed by both Vincenzo and Han-seok, since they equally went behind your back to plan something out. On top of that, they almost killed Vincenzo. You don’t know how exactly your brother survived their attack but one thing you did know was that they were close in taking him away from you. They almost got what they wished for.

“Good luck with your bullshit.”

You left it at that as you began to march out the door, but a firm hand gripped your own. You didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was.

“Stay, please. I’ll explain everything on the flight.”

“I’m not flying with you,” you shook him off. “And I’m not staying. Leave me alone.”

You didn’t want to look at him, because deep down, you knew his pleading eyes will make you stay. Even though you almost killed Ms. Choi, you were thankful in hearing her very hoarse voice speak, letting Han-seok know that they must head to the airport immediately.

You took that as your sign and left, feeling both relieved and upset that Han-seok didn’t try to stop you that time. Your eyes were starting to cloud with tears and you quickly wiped them away as you hailed a cab and began to make your way to Geumga Plaza. It was late at night so everyone must be in their rooms by now, and because of that you rushed up the stairs towards Vincenzo’s. You angrily pounded at the door and he was quick to open it, giving you the chance to storm inside.

“You know, I could’ve easily fooled you as someone else and killed you.”

“I’m not in the mood for your jokes,” you pointed at him. “What the fuck happened today?”

“What happened to you?” He raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t stopped by to say hello anymore. Is everything okay?”

“Fine. Han-seok won’t let me out of his sight. Now, tell me about this plan of yours you had about sneaking into the art gallery and taking a file!”

“Ah, well, Cha-young and I found some information regarding to Babel’s paper company. We needed a team in order to break in.”

“And why wasn’t I told about this?”

He hummed. “You’ve been acting suspicious lately.”

You swallowed at his words. “Suspicious how?”

Vincenzo walked towards one of the cabinets as he poured himself a drink. “Drink?” He asked, which made you shake your head in return. “Well, you haven’t been honest with me. You’ve been keeping information from us.”

“Says who?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

So he doesn’t know. He’s probably suspicious of you, but he doesn’t have concrete proof that you are in fact dating Han-seok out of your own free will. You looked down towards the floor, taking in a deep breath before exhaling.

“I just don’t understand why you planned this all out with people you barely even know. I’m your sister. We’re family. You always tell me things, but you kept this from me. You kept something this huge from me. On top of that, you almost died,” the image of Paolo’s three hit men flashed in your head, “I felt like you didn’t need me.”

His silence towards your last remark made you want to die, since it felt like he wasn’t acknowledging how you felt. Why can’t he just fucking talk to you? What’s so hard about that? You sucked up your pain and clenched your teeth together as you slightly switched the topic.

“I almost blew my cover when I found out that out.”

“What’d you do?”

So he responds to that? Cue your heart breaking.

“I almost killed Ms. Choi.”

He choked on his drink at your words, his eyes slightly widening. “What did you do to her?”

You slightly smiled at the satisfying memory. “I choked her and almost succeeded until the two Jang brothers pulled me off. If anything she’ll be left with a very bruised neck, possibly some soreness in her vocal chords.”

He chuckled at your response and shook his head in disapproval. “You really do have the worst temper.”

“Well I grew up with you, how can I not?”

Even though you were still upset and feeling betrayed by him, you couldn’t stay mad forever. You did almost lose him tonight, and spending time with him was something you certainly did not want to bypass — even if he’s somewhat disregarding your feelings. You drank a couple of drinks with Vincenzo before crashing out at his place, forgetting about the fact that you told Han-seok you were going to spend the night at your apartment.

It’s not like it mattered anyways, he was most likely already flying to New York by now, and that’s something you debated on telling Vincenzo or not.

By the next morning, everyone oddly seemed to be in a good mood. When Mr. Nam informed you that Prosecutor Jung arrested Han-seok last night with the information they stole, you almost lost it. Another thing Vincenzo forgot to mention when you two were drinking.

But why should you care? You’re the one who walked out on him and told him to never contact you again. He’s on his own now, and his precious Ms. Choi can bail him out if needed. He preferred having her do his dirty work anyways, since the only thing he needed you for was to let out his sexual frustration.

You were feeling betrayed both by Vincenzo and Han-seok, and you genuinely did not know how to feel.

After watching Prosecutor Jung’s speech on how he was wrong for his speculation against Babel and witnessing Cha-young lose it, you felt like you needed to leave. To everyone else, Vincenzo seemed pretty collected, but deep down you knew he was at the brink of losing it too. Their reactions towards his betrayal made you question yourself, and the whole atmosphere was suffocating. There’s no doubt in mind that you’re going to hurt them when they find out about you and Han-seok. How it wasn’t just a front anymore and how you cared about him. How you’re morally fucking this up for everyone — including yourself.

But seeing Cha-young and Vincenzo’s interaction made your heart clench. Only an idiot would not know that there’s blatantly something going on between them. The way he chased after her and was holding onto her arm while attempting to calm her down…you knew. You knew that your brother somehow managed to find love while he stowed away in Korea. It wasn’t planned, you knew he didn’t expect this. You were happy he found someone.

But do you have a right to feel that same happiness? You wouldn’t go as far and say you love Han-seok, but your feelings for him are pretty serious. Your love life is complicated — your fault though — and your boyfriend slash ex-boyfriend wants to kill your brother, and your brother wants to kill him. It’s not the most ideal situation you want to be in.

Maybe you can steer Han-seok away from his corrupted ways? Get him to just leave Babel to Han-seo and move away with you as far away from Korea as possible. You two could possibly move to the States. Maybe you could convince him, and if not, then you can just leave him be and help Vincenzo how you originally planned.

You didn’t even bother to say goodbye to anyone as you left the plaza and went back to your place. Walking in, the place felt a bit eerie since you haven’t necessarily been staying here for the past few weeks. Some of your stuff is still at Han-seok’s place so you were thankful to have left a few items behind. You quickly changed into a pair of black leggings and a white sports bra, adding a thin athletic jacket over you just in case.

Most of your day was spent working out and getting your mind off of things. Your body was mentally exhausted and you needed a breather from the world around you. For the first time in a while, you felt refreshed. You were heading back inside to your place with your headphones playing ‘No Hands’ at full blast.

“Girl drop it to the floor! I love the way your booty go – HOLY FUCK!”

You had a near damn heart attack when you walked inside your apartment and noticed Han-seok standing in the living room. His hair was disheveled and he had a crazed look on his face, but the moment his eyes landed on you, they widened.

“What are you doing here? I thought–”

You didn’t even get to finish talking before you felt him slam his lips against yours. He pulled you close and held your body tightly, and you almost caved in to the kiss but then remembered the whole altercation in the art gallery.

You shoved Han-seok away and shot him a glare. “I thought I told you I was done.”

“I thought you left,” he completely ignored your words as he began to talk. “I came by your apartment last night and you weren’t here. I searched for you and didn’t get any sleep. Then I had to return to Babel to discuss some matters before making my way back here, only to find your apartment empty once again. I thought you were gone, that you managed to leave the country without a trace. I was about to hire some of my best men to track you down…but now that I know you never left, where were you last night?”

“That’s none of your concern,” you turned around to grab a water bottle from the fridge but he rushed to your side and slammed the fridge door shut.

“Wrong answer,” he hummed before cupping your cheeks with his free hand. “Now, where were you?”

“Take your hand off me before I drop kick you,” you threatened.

He whistled and did as you asked. “You were out with some guy weren’t you?”

“No I wasn’t,” you dryly laughed. “All of the men here in Korea are a bunch of liars and not worth the effort, including you.”

“Are you going to continue to whine or will you let me explain why I had Ms. Choi do my dirty work for me?”

“Oh yeah, I would love to hear your excuse,” you responded with sarcasm.

Suddenly, you felt him grab your hand and twirl you around to face him. His eyes were full of emotion as they gazed down on you, and his features were soft, something that slightly shocked you. Ever since you met Han-seok, he’s been a mixture of serious, psychotic, and a dork. There was no in between since he would change his attitude in just a quick snap of his fingers. He was unpredictable — never letting you know what was going on in his head.

But this moment, right now, he was an open book. He looked vulnerable and weak, and that was enough to make you listen.

“Ididntwanthimtohurtyou,” he rapidly spoke, making you squint at him.

“What?”

He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, giving himself a second before he could respond. “I didn’t want him to hurt you,” he begun, “he’s not someone you can test the waters with and expect to come out fine. He’s dangerous. You’ve seen what he’s capable of and you’ve run into him several times before. I still remember that one time you showed up bleeding almost everywhere. I…I don’t want him to go after you, and having Ms. Choi do my dirty work instead wont put you in harms way.”

Does…does he actually care for you? The Jang Han-seok, the CEO who’s made it clear he does not care about anyone else but himself. The same CEO who never shows any form of emotions — only anger. The same CEO who threatens his subordinates, including his brother, because they fail to do something right or just pester him.

“I need you, okay?”

His words left you stunned. Your brain was trying to process everything that was going on.

“You…need me?” You audibly whispered.

“Yes baby.”

“But do you mean you need my skills?”

He shook his head and tilted your chin up, his eyes meeting yours. “No. Even though you’re a fucking badass, I need you. You have weaved your way into my heart and I don’t plan on losing you.”

You’re literally about to melt right there.

You grabbed his face with your hands and pulled him down to you, pressing your lips against his in a desperate kiss. Han-seok responded almost immediately, and he hoisted you up, making you to wrap your legs around his waist as he began to walk you towards your bedroom.

His lips knew every sensitive spot in your body, and he took his time savoring you, exploring you, and making you feel special like the fucking goddess you are. He wanted to show you how much you meant to him, so he was at your complete mercy tonight. You were currently riding his face while his hands gripped your thighs, his tongue flicking and playing with your sensitive areas.

You writhed above him as you began to reach your high. “H-Han-seok I’m gonna…”

He quickly flipped you over so you were on your back and wasted no time sliding back inside you. “That’s it baby. I got you.”

He began to thrust as he held himself up on his elbows. Your moans echoed throughout your room and all you could do was gaze into his brown orbs. He cupped your cheek and snaked an arm underneath your back, pressing you closer to him.

“You’re so beautiful. My fucking baby.”

He connected your lips together in a passionate kiss as he began to pick up the pace. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back with so much passion while the two of you moved together in sync, slowly picking up the pace in a feverish way. You felt yourself cum first before Han-seok followed suit, spilling his seed inside you without a care.

The two of you continued to kiss and hold each other close, not wanting to let the other go. You both come from two different worlds, but at the same time, they’re similar in a sense. Unlike everyone you’ve known so far in your life, Han-seok needs you. Your father didn’t want you. The Cassano family accepted you then tossed you aside the moment they found something better. Vincenzo left Italy without thinking about how you would feel and only contacted you when he needed help, because he needed your skills.

You’ve never been put first your whole life, you were always just the person who filled the void in peoples lives, and when you weren’t needed anymore, you were tossed away. Forgotten. But Han-seok? He wants you. He needs you. He’s the first person to make you feel wanted in such a long time.

And honestly, you were not going to let that go.

-

Time has passed and matters were getting much more heated between Babel and Jipuragi Law Firm. Just like Han-seok promised, he has not bothered to send you on a mission to go after Vincenzo, instead, you’ve been doing some of his dirty work for him.

You’ve slowly been losing contact with Vincenzo again. It hurt knowing you two were growing distant, but he seemed to prefer confiding in his new family at Geumga Plaza than you. You might’ve been slow in delivering information but he still could’ve gone to you if he needed anything. Sure, you weren’t being fully honest with him, but you weren’t going to sabotage him in any shape, way, or form.

You also have been trying to grow close with Han-seo, especially since you felt bad after punching him in the face. The younger Jang brother laughed it off and reassured you it wasn’t a big deal, but he seemed terrified talking to you. It was definitely Han-seok’s doing and you know it.

But with everything that’s going on, you should expect the worse to happen.

You were staying at Han-seok’s place, cooking up a quick meal for you since he was out discussing matters with Ms. Choi. You despise that bitch, and you hate how close her and Han-seok are. You don’t care how old she fucking is, but a deep part of you always grew jealous when he had important matters to attend with her.

He can talk it with me too.

You were too busy angrily mumbling to yourself to even hear the front door close. A familiar pair of arms wrapped themselves around you as Han-seok hugged you from behind and began to kiss your neck.

“How was your date with Ms. Choi? You two have fun?”

“Hm, are you jealous baby?”

“Are you drunk?”

The smell of alcohol burned your nose when he spoke. You set the pan aside so the food wouldn’t burn as you quickly turned around to look at him. He didn’t hesitate in slipping his hands underneath your shirt — well, his shirt to be exact — and grazing the bottom skin of your breasts.

“Baby…you’re not wearing a bra?”

“Don’t change the subject,” you cupped his face to look at him. “Why were you drinking?”

“Because I can’t kill that bastard, and he’s been taking everything away from me,” he slurred before resting his forehead on your shoulder. “I need to find his family.”

Your breathing hitched. “Why?”

“Because then I can make him suffer. He must have a mother out there. Someone that’s family to him that he cares about.”

You’re looking at her. You thought to yourself. Even if you weren’t on big speaking terms with him, he still cares.

“I doubt he has family,” you wanted to steer him away from his assumption. “Mafia members usually don’t have any family left, and seeing how he’s Korean-Italian, I doubt his parents are alive. It’ll just be a dead end.”

He hummed at your response. “You can never be too sure.”

“Baby, I have no one left. Anyone I worked with back in Italy is the same.” He began to kiss your neck again, almost distracting you but you couldn’t have any of that. “I know him and Cha-young have something going on.”

He stilled at your words but kept his lips on your skin. “Really?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “I think you should start with her.”

Even though you feel bad about suggesting Cha-young as a target, you didn’t want them going after Vincenzo’s mom. You met her once and she seems like a sweet lady. She’s been through a lot as well, and you still remember the rage you felt when you found out about what her previous employer did to her. Scummy men who prey on innocent women for their own sexual desires deserve the worst, and you had a mental celebration when you were made aware that he passed away.

He should’ve been tortured by Vincenzo, if anything.

Han-seok pulled away as he looked down at you, seeming to be in deep thought. “Maybe, we’ll see. But for now,” he tore his shirt off of you — like actually ripped apart — and his eyes trailed your body with hunger as you stood there exposed, wearing just your lace underwear.

“Han-seok!” You gasped. “I was making food!”

“Well baby I’m hungry too,” he smirked before ripping away your underwear and setting you down on the cold counter.

Then he proceeded to eat you out and it felt fucking amazing.

-

Life has not been easy ever since.

After articles about Han-seok’s past surfaced, he sent you to kill Oh Jeong-bae, the CEO of Daechang Daily. You finished it without a problem and left as the clean up crew that Ms. Choi sent arrived to pick up his body. What you didn’t know was that they planned to frame Vincenzo, but did it unsuccessfully since he’s always one step ahead of them.

You’ve been going on more secret dates with Han-seok and have practically moved in with him at this point. You were out running some errands when your phone began to ring, Han-seok’s name popping up on the car’s screen.

“Yes, sir?” You have to keep it professional at first, just in case anyone is in ear shot view.

“Baby! Come celebrate with us!”

He seemed to be in a very cheerful mood. “Oh yeah? What are we celebrating?”

“The death of Vincenzo’s mother.”

You slammed on the brakes, not even caring that you stopped in the middle of the road. “What?”

“Ms. Choi did some digging and found his mother. She was admitted to a hospital, and we sent someone to finish the job.”

This is not good. Killing his mom is just asking for a death wish, and knowing Vincenzo, he’s smart enough to figure out who sent the hitman. He’ll go after Han-seok in a heartbeat.

He’s actually probably on his way to kill him now.

“Baby, where are you?” Your voice was filled with panic as you stepped on the gas.

“At the estate. I don’t see why you’re worried.”

Your knuckles gripped the steering wheel. “Jang Han-seok, you just killed the woman Vincenzo loves the most. His own blood. His only family. His mother. I know you don’t care about family, but majority of the world population will go ballistic if someone killed their mother. He’s going to fucking kill you, all because you wanted to get even with him.”

“Either I’m going stupid or you’re actually defending him.”

“Because he’s going to kill you!” You kept swerving past cars. “Why do you have to get even with him! Fucking hell!”

You were not that far from the estate now, but he suddenly went quiet on his end which made you worry.

“What’s happening Han-seok?”

Then a shot rang out, and you felt the blood in your body run cold.

“Han-seok!” You frantically screamed as you tried not to have a full blown panic attack while driving. You heard him breathe on the other line before he spoke two words and hung up.

“He’s here.”

No, no, no, no, no, no.

He can’t fucking kill him, he can’t.

It was as if everything around you was a blur, your hands felt numb even though you were gripping the steering wheel. You could crash into someone right now but you wouldn’t care, you’d find a way to get to Han-seok. At this moment, he’s the only thing that mattered.

The moment you arrived to the estate, your heart dropped at the sight of all the bodies writhing on the floor. It was like something straight out of a horror movie. The ramp leading to the house was caked with a trail of blood, letting you know that Vincenzo is showing no mercy. You cocked your gun and ran out of the car, ignoring the pleas of the injured bodyguards as you made your way past them.

You never felt such adrenaline before, and the moment you saw Vincenzo pointing his gun at Han-seok’s face, you knew right then and now, that this will leave a dent in your relationship with your brother. Vincenzo didn’t seem to know about your presence because the moment he heard the click of your gun behind him, he grew rigid.

“Drop the gun.”

Your voice was low and dangerous.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m not going to repeat myself,” you pressed your gun towards his head. “Drop the gun. Now.”

He stayed silent for a while, contemplating your order. Your eyes briefly connected with Han-seok’s and he looked both relieved to see you but also terrified. He wasn’t scared for his life — not even the slightest — but he was for yours.

“Stay out of this.” It almost sounded like he was pleading you to walk away, to not dig yourself further into this mess that can cost you your life.

“Not until he drops the gun,” you tilted your head. “So, what’s it gonna be, Vincenzo?”

His chuckle caught you off guard. “You really want to do this right now, sister?”

“You know better than to not call me that right now.”

“Why? You’re scared your boyfriend will find out the truth about your identity?”

Your breathing increased. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me,” he pressed. “I’m sending you back to Italy tonight. You’re done.”

No you’re not fucking done, and he will not fucking ruin whatever happiness you found here. He didn’t expect you to kick his legs and force him to the ground, your body moving swiftly to take his gun from his hand. He looked shocked as he looked up at you, a look of betrayal flashing through his features.

“Yes! That’s my girl,” Han-seok clapped as he stood up, walking towards you to plant a kiss on your cheek. “Kill him.”

“She won’t,” Vincenzo answered with a smug look on his face.

Your hands began to shake and your eyes brimmed with tears while your lip quivered, the intense emotion of betrayal sitting with you as you stared into the eyes of your brother. Your family. The only other person who genuinely cared about you. Han-seok called out for you, but it’s like your mind tuned him out, and Vincenzo was the only other person in the room.

You’re not going to kill him, you can’t and won’t.

“I’m disappointed in you, sister. You really fell for the enemy.”

He actually fucking blew your cover. Your eyes widened in fear at his words, the dread settling in as the room grew quiet.

“S-Sister?” Mr. Han spoke from behind you. “Did I hear that right?”

“It seems we’ve had a traitor all this time, sir.”

“If you want to keep breathing for the next five seconds, I suggest you shut your fucking mouth, Ms. Choi. I will blow your brains out without a second thought,” you threatened which made her shut up real quick.

“You’re a fucking bitch.”

Han-seok’s voice cut you like a knife, and you refused to turn around and look into his eyes. You didn’t want to face him. You didn’t feel worthy of facing him right now.

Instead, you put the safety on Vincenzo’s gun and tossed it to him. “You know, I came here to help my brother out but lately, it’s been feeling like he doesn’t need me anymore. But you want to know who does? The man behind me. He’s made me feel so fucking special Vincenzo and I honestly could care less about what he fucking does and how he does shit to stay on top. You think the Cassano family has their hands clean? You ever sit back and wonder all the people we’ve killed for them, and how many of those people are possibly innocent with families out there? We’re fucking monsters. Every single person in this room is a monster. I’m tired of trying to play the good guy, because I’m not, and you –”

You didn’t even have time to react or simply do anything as Vincenzo interrupted your speech by aiming his gun at Han-seok and pressing the trigger. A silent shot rang out and Han-seok collapsed to the floor, holding his right ear while he groaned out in pain.

“That’s just a preview of what I’m going to do.”

“Han-seok!” You cried out as you dropped down to his side and tore a bottom piece of your shirt off to press it against his ear. He tried to push you away but you resisted as you held him close while everyone else scurried towards the two of you. “Call 911!”

His bloodshot eyes looked at you with disgust and hate, but you didn’t care right now. You needed him to get seen immediately. The ambulance was quick in getting there and took him straight away with Han-seo riding on the back. You wanted to leave with them so bad but you held back, not wanting to stress him out more especially with his wound. Ms. Choi and Mr. Han were not making it easer as they stared at you with intensity.

“My loyalty still lies with Han-seok,” you began, not bothering to face them. “Only cowards run and hide, and I’m not a coward.”

You avoided seeing Han-seok at the hospital, knowing that he will go crazy the moment he sees you walk in. Your betrayal was of course made known to everyone in Geumga Plaza, and you didn’t miss the looks of disgust when you walked inside and made your way to the office. You were currently sitting down at the table with both Vincenzo and Cha-young, your fingers drumming against the hard wood as you avoided eye contact with them.

“Give me my cut of the gold and I’ll be on my way.”

“You deserve nothing,” Cha-young snapped. “You betray us and side with Han-seok? You deserve not even a tiny ounce of gold!”

“Do not yell at me, stupid bitch,” you hissed out but noticed the glare Vincenzo shot at you. “Aw, I’m sorry. Did I insult your girlfriend?”

“He really did get in your head. What a tragedy,” he sighed.

“He didn’t do anything. Whatever I’m feeling? Whatever I did? I did it out of my own free will. Now pay up, brother.”

Cha-young loudly slammed her palms against the table, making you and Vincenzo look at her. “My father was murdered by that psychopath. How can you support that?”

“Save me the sob story, your father knew what he was getting himself into. Vincenzo warned him but he didn’t listen. He stuck his nose where he shouldn’t and paid the ultimate price.”

She shot out of her chair and went after you, and just when you were about to attack back, you felt Vincenzo grab your arm and twist it behind your back. He pinned you down against the table, leaving you immobile as you screamed and struggled against his hold.

“Let me go!”

“You have no shame,” he calmly spoke. “He killed my mother, and you still defend him. I call you to help me, and you betray me. What kind of sister are you?”

“I don’t care.”

That was a bit of a lie but you had to act heartless now. There’s no room for sappy stories or feelings in this field. You either fight to stay on top or roll over on your back and surrender. You were done with everything, and from this point on, you were your own independent contractor. No more Cassano family. No more Italy. No more Vincenzo. As much as it pains you, you brought this upon yourself.

“Just…let me go.”

He did as you asked, avoiding any form of eye contact with you as you rubbed your wrist. “I’m sorry I failed you. I got caught up in my own feelings. I’ve reached my breaking point Vincenzo, and while you found love here, so did I. What I feel for Han-seok feels so wrong but so right at the same time. Give me my cut of the gold and I will try to convince him to flee Korea with me, just don’t kill him, please. Do whatever you want with Babel, but don’t fucking hurt him, or else.”

Then, you proceeded to walk away, not even bothering to look back.

The drive back to your place was quiet and unusually eerie. Your whole mind felt numb at the thought of losing both Vincenzo and Han-seok, but there’s a slight possibility of regaining the trust of one of them. You could either go back now, drop down to your knees, and apologize profusely to your brother.

And also promising to delete that video of him singing to Rihanna.

Then there’s Han-seok, where you could prove your loyalty to him by continuing to betray your brother. You can continue to do his dirty work and help him bring Babel to the top.

So what will it be? Side with the man who grew up to be your brother — who fought by your side? Or with the man you love — who will burn the world for you? Most people will immediately choose family, but, you’re not like most people. Sad truth is you’re just as fucked up in the head as Han-seok. Maybe not on a psychotic level, but you’re still just as evil as him. Unlike Vincenzo, you have no sense for justice. The world will always be morally fucked up, that’s just how life is. Why bother wasting your time trying to fix its wrongs?

You were too caught up in your thoughts as you stepped inside your apartment that you had zero time to react when a hand shot out to pin you against the wall. It wrapped itself tightly around your throat, not enough to kill you but enough to daze you, and the culprit behind the hand was no other than Han-seok. His eyes burned with hatred, no longer showing any hint of affection towards you.

“Are you okay?” Was all you could croak out.

He darkly chuckled in response. “Am I okay? Is that all you have to say?”

“I’m just worried about–”

“Shut up!” He added more pressure to your neck. “I should just kill you right now.”

“Then do it.”

Half of you knew he wasn’t capable of doing it, but the other half believed he can and will. You’re at a point where death wasn’t a scary thought anymore, and if the man you grew to love was going to end it for you, then you’ll welcome death with open arms.

Han-seok seemed to hesitate at your request while his grip on your neck loosened, but he didn’t let go quite yet.

“Fuck you,” he sneered and practically threw you against the wall as he let go of you. “You’re such a clever bitch huh?”

He began to clap really loud, the speed of it increasing by every second.

“Bravo! Such an amazing job in fooling me!” Han-seok bent down to your level and gripped your chin tightly. “So, what’s your real name? I assume you’ve given me a fake one all this time.”

“It’s still the same,” you replied. “But my last name is Cassano, not Marino.”

He huffed out a breath and let you go, walking away as he began to run a hand through his hair.

“Vincenzo called me because he needed my help against you. It started off as a mission, but little by little I fell in lo–”

“Shut up,” he cut you off. “What are you? A mercenary for him?”

“I’m a spy for the Cassano family.”

“Cassano family,” he darkly chuckled and turned to face you again. “I hope you know I have to kill you now. I don’t take kindly to traitors.”

You smiled up at him. “You say that yet you’re the biggest traitor of all.” He stepped forward to say something but you quickly cut him off as you continued. “You’re a traitor to yourself. Your mind says one thing but your heart says another.”

You felt a bit wobbly when you stood up but used the wall as support. He remained quiet at your statement, not wanting to admit that you were right. Instead, he walked towards you and cupped your face with his right hand.

“You have such a big mouth for someone who’s supposed to stay quiet. You lied to me and I doubt any fucking thing you’ve told me was true. Stop with the act, you’ve been found out. If you think I’m going to crawl back to you, I won’t.”

“But I’m being se–”

He grabbed your shoulders and roughly slammed your body against the wall. You went ahead and grabbed his arm, moving your body so you’d be able to twist it behind his back. You kicked his feet underneath you and basically made him drop to the floor with a loud thud. He shot you a puzzled look while you flashed him a smile, but that was short lived when he grabbed your ankle and made you lose your balance. You fell down as well and Han-seok was quick to hover above you as his hands wrapped themselves around your throat. Just when he was about to squeeze, you wrapped your legs around his waist and flipped him over, causing him to lay flat on his back and loose his grip on your neck. You quickly grabbed one of your knives from a nearby coffee table and pressed it right against the skin of his neck, your other hand pinning his wrists above his head.

“Baby, if I wanted to kill you, I could’ve done that in a heartbeat. Especially after that fiasco with Vincenzo’s mother? You were lucky I was on your side instead of helping my brother out,” you noticed the way his jaw clenched out of both anger and fear. “I could easily kill you right here too, and I have sources that can help me flee the country within the next ten minutes. Don’t underestimate a spy from the mafia.”

You pressed the blade a little more against his neck, but made sure not to do it too much to draw blood.

“Why didn’t we try this position before? I kind of like being on top of you and having you at my mercy.”

You were teasing him and you loved it, but it was so hard deciphering what he felt since Han-seok cleared his face of any emotion. You were quick to stand up, keeping your eyes on his form. Han-seok dusted himself off and he looked more pissed than before — probably because he lost since he knew he let his guard down. All he did was shoot you a warning look before leaving your place, not bothering to utter out a single word about what just happened.

-

The next few weeks have been more hell. You lost your brother. You lost your lover. Now you were basically stranded in a random foreign city. You spent your nights at countless of bars, rejecting perverted men, and getting drunk off your ass without a care. It was hard watching the news since there was always something going on with Babel, and seeing Han-seok’s gorgeous face made you miss him even more.

You were currently out and about, a little tipsy since you had a couple of drinks at a bar, when you suddenly felt someone bump into you. The two of you fell to the ground — hard — and you felt your blood boiling at the incompetence of the guy who bumped into you.

“Listen you fucking jackass!” Even though you felt a bit tipsy, you were able to get a good grip on the guy. The alcohol was also definitely a factor as to why you were more pissed than usual. “You better fucking apolo–”

But you were shocked to see Han-seok staring back at you with surprise as well. The sound of several footsteps echoed above you and he gave you zero time to react as he grabbed your hands, pulled you up, and made you stand against a brick wall. You repeatedly blinked up at him, his face was covered in sweat and he seemed out of breath, like he was running away from something.

Or someone.

The sound of footsteps that echoed away indicated that he was in fact getting chased.

“Who were they?”

“I don’t know. They ambushed me back at my place.”

“Those assholes. I’ll kill them.”

You stumbled away from him, only to be stopped when his hand clasped around your wrist.

“Have you been drinking?”

“Mhm. I’ll probably be a raging alcoholic by the end of the month.”

His eyes fixated on you as he remained quiet for a second before speaking. “You’re really doing the most to make me drop my guard around you.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“Going out to drink. Acting like you’re sad. Aren’t you a little genius?”

“Han-seok this isn’t–”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he began to limp away. “And don’t follow me.”

You ignored his request and stepped forward to provide as much of assistance as you could, but he was quick in shoving you away, a look of disgust resting on his features.

“Don’t fucking touch me and leave me alone.”

And so you did, but little did you know, he wanted you to follow him. He wanted you ignore his remarks, call him an idiot, and just simply take care of his wounds. He wanted you to prove to him that you did in fact care, but he ignored the aching of his heart when you simply let him go without putting up a fight.

-

You were at your wits end.

After drinking your sorrows away and sulking in your own pitiful heartbreak, you decided to take Vincenzo on his offer and leave Korea for good. Turns out him, Cha-young, and a couple of the tenants were hiding away the gold, and you did your best in hiding your anger through the phone when he refused to let you know where it was. Instead, he wired you the amount he promised and ordered you to leave the country. Made you swear on your mother’s grave and everything. You promised him to leave and never turn back.

You promised to leave Han-seok, for good.

Ever since your last encounter in the alley, you’ve tried to contact him multiple times, but he never returned your calls. You last spoke with Han-seo a few days ago, and he informed you that Han-seok and Ms. Choi planned out a fake arrest to protect him from Vincenzo. It was a pretty decent plan, and since his security measure is high, your brother won’t be able to touch him.

But even if he did, why does it matter? You two are end game. You shouldn’t care what happens to him. Whatever you two had was temporary, and you’re bound to meet someone ten times better in the States anyways.

You were at the airport waiting at the security line when your phone began to buzz. Confusion hit you when you noticed Ms. Choi’s name pop up on your screen, and if it wasn’t for your curiosity on Han-seok, you would’ve hung up on her.

“I assume you’re not calling because you want to meet up and get our nails done together,” you scoffed.

You could hear her sigh on the other end. “Desperate times call for desperate measures, I just have one question to ask you. Do you love Han-seok?”

Her sudden question caught you off guard. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Just answer the question.”

“It’s not like it matters if I do,” you snapped. “He wants nothing to do with me and I don’t blame him.”

“Agreed. I always knew you were a bitch.”

Your eye twitched. “Look, if you’re just going to call to insult me then I’m fucking hanging up–”

“Wait,” her tone reeked with desperation. “I hate to admit it but you’re our only hope against Vincenzo. He’s going to kill me and Mr. Jang.”

“I thought Han-seok was in prison to protect him from my brother?”

“Not anymore. He’s been released. We’re planning on fleeing the country but that’s if we’re able to sneak past Vincenzo. He has this whole plan in motion already and..” she paused for a second before speaking again, “he already called me and told me today is my last day. Once he kills me, he’s going after Mr. Jang.”

You have never ran out the airport so fast in your life. Ms. Choi isn’t the one to call you or beg for you help, but the tone in her voice and how urgent she sounds let’s you know that some shit is about to go down. Vincenzo doesn’t play and you know that.

“Do you have a location on Han-seok?”

“No, he wouldn’t disclose it. I’ll send you my address so we can meet up.”

The two of you hung up and you immediately hailed a cab towards her place. Your palms felt sweaty and your throat felt dry as you thought about Vincenzo winning and getting to Han-seok first. Knowing your brother, he will make sure to torture him and give Han-seok the most painful death he can imagine, and that was something that unnerved you.

You arrived to the address that Ms. Choi sent you but stopped on your tracks when you noticed the knocked out bodyguards that laid on the floor.

He was here. He got her.

“Fuck!” You punched the nearest wall, not caring about the excruciating pain that shot up your arm. She was your last resort at finding Han-seok since he could be anywhere in Seoul.

You need to think. Knowing Vincenzo, he must have some form of tracker on Han-seok because how else will he be able to locate him? If he’s out hunting for your ex-boyfriend, then he shouldn’t be anywhere near Geumga Plaza. You had to be fast on this so you wasted no time. You snatched one of the guns off of the bodyguard’s body and hailed a cab towards the plaza.

You charged up the stairs until you made it into the office, where you found Mr. Ahn sitting in front of a laptop. You raised the gun and aimed for his head, making him lift his hands up in the air.

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know what you’re–”

You shot the flower pot next to him and he dropped to the floor in fear.

“Where is he?!”

He was quick in turning the laptop off and picking it up. “I’m not telling you anything.”

“Is that so?”

You weren’t sure if these tenants were just plain stupid or had a death wish, because Mrs. Jang attempted to sneak up behind you, only for her to be placed in a chokehold with your gun pressing against her temple. Mr. Ahn’s face contorted into concern as he hesitated in taking a step forward.

“Now let’s try again shall we?” Your eyes were burning with hatred. “Where’s Vincenzo?”

“H-How could you do this to him?”

Mrs. Jang screamed when you shot her foot, causing Mr. Ahn to yell before running towards you.

“Nah-ah,” you hummed and pressed the gun to her chin, causing Mr. Ahn to stop. “One more step and she’s dead.”

“She’s pregnant,” he pleaded. “Please don’t.”

“Aww, then she should’ve thought twice before sneaking up on me,” you moved the gun down to her stomach, “now give me the laptop.”

“How do I know you won’t kill her?”

“Because I don’t get messy unless I have to. You give me what I want, and she’s free. So will it ping me to Han-seok’s live location?”

“Yes,” he hesitantly answered.

“Then give it to me. Along with your phone as well and some car keys.”

Mr. Ahn was quick to comply and didn’t hesitate in doing the exchange. As promised, you let go of Mrs. Jang and examined Mr. Ahn’s phone before crushing it, in case he decides to warn Vincenzo about you. You did the same to Mrs. Jang’s phone before running out the building and finding Mr. Ahn’s car. You turned the latop on and saw his live signal coming to a stop, and you prayed that he was on his own and was safe from Vincenzo.

But that hope washed away when the signal lead you to a warehouse.

“Please don’t be dead,” you whispered to yourself as you blinked back tears. “Hang on baby.”

You quietly made your way inside the building, having your arms stretched out downwards in front of you while your gun faced the ground. You could heard the sound of distant voices, immediately pinning the two male voices as Vincenzo and Han-seok. Knowing he was still alive made you feel more at ease but the adrenaline was still kicking in as you neared closer, the sounds of Han-seok screaming made you see red.

“…okay? Just shoot me! Shoot!” Han-seok begged but quickly stopped when his eyes landed on you.

The sound of your gun clicking made Vincenzo stop what he was doing, but your brother refused to face you.

“Turn it off and untie him.”

“I see that you decided to stay,” he spoke. “I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not the first time you broke a promise.”

You were impatient and pissed off. You shot the timer that rested on the left side of the chair, making Vincenzo flinch away and take a couple of steps away from Han-seok as the timer broke into pieces.

“I’m not here to play games or fucking talk! You better disarm that whole contraption and let him go.”

“Or what? You’re going to kill me?”

“If I have to.”

He dryly laughed and shook his head. “I guess karma did get me in the end.” You furrowed your brows in confusion, not understanding what he meant. “The first time Han-seo came to me to help him overthrow Han-seok, I refused.”

Wait, Han-seo betrayed Han-seok?

“I told him I don’t like to involve myself in family matters, because if I help exploit a betrayal within a family, my own family might betray me in the end.”

The look he gave you made your heart break, and you felt yourself almost giving in, but the sound of Han-seok coughing out a bit of blood brought you back to your senses.

“You don’t have to do this,” Vincenzo begged you. “Sister, please.”

You gritted your teeth while remaining silent for a second, but slowly moved your gun towards his direction.

“Let him go.”

He sighed in defeat and tilted his head down. Vincenzo was incredibly fast and unpredictable, because he suddenly pulled out a gun from his waist and aimed it in your direction. A shot rang out and you felt a burning sensation on your right arm, and it took a second to register that he shot you.

He fucking shot you.

You screamed out in pain as you dropped your weapon, and you heard Han-seok call for you before hearing footsteps running towards you. You were quick to move your legs and swipe them underneath Vincenzo, making him fall as well. Your adrenaline started to kick in causing the pain on your right upper arm to diminish. You quickly stood up and ran towards your gun but Vincenzo was quick as he wrapped his left arm around your neck, holding you in a chokehold. He was applying pressure, enough to knock you out, but you used all your strength to move your head back, head butting him right on the nose.

He staggered back and you went in for a left hook but he was quick in blocking it. You were able to move your body away from him as he tried to land a blow on your stomach. Hit after hit, you both were a bloody mess at this point. The two of you were evenly matched; he had the strength but you had the agility. You two have sparred with each other so much that you basically have learned each other’s moves, and it’s only a matter of time until one of you gets tired first or one of you outsmarts the other. You couldn’t use any of your usual moves on him but you just remembered there was one move you never showed him.

Vincenzo managed to make you fall on your back, but you quickly blinked back tears and bent your legs before swinging them forward, causing you to shoot up and stand. You didn’t even give him time to react as you swung your leg up and kicked him right on the jaw. He immediately fell to the floor and you kicked him one last time on the face, almost knocking him out.

“You talk about betrayal but you chose your new family over me!”

You straddled him while pinning his arms against him.

“You fucking left Italy without telling me! No message, no call, nothing!”

Another punch to his face.

“You don’t even call me to let me know you landed in fucking Korea! I had to find out from Paolo that you fled!”

You punched his chest.

“I tried calling you because I was worried and couldn’t reach you. But then you call me when you need my help? Are you fucking serious?!”

You slapped him.

“I didn’t think much of it cause I saw it as my brother needing my help. I missed you and wanted to make you happy so I agreed, but then I started to miss our life back in Italy. I asked, no begged you to move back with me, and what did you do!?”

You slapped him again.

“You chose your new fucking family that you made here! You wanted to help your little girlfriend avenge her dead father!”

You were a bawling mess at this point, but you couldn’t stop.

“I felt so alone,” you choked out. “And guess who was there for me? Guess who made me feel fucking special? Jang fucking Han-seok.”

You punched him one last time, leaving his face badly bruised and bloodied. He choked out some blood and tried to move but you held him down with your legs and body.

“You never bothered to ask me if I was okay. You never bothered to care, but he fucking did. He could tell when something was bothering me, when something was wrong. While I stayed here to make my brother happy, he never once batted an eye in my direction when I felt alone. All my life, everyone expected the most of me. They wanted to use me. My father, the Cassano family, and now you. You never fucking bothered to know how I felt, and only saw me as convenient when it benefited you and your precious gold.”

You couldn’t even wipe away your tears since your hands were caked with blood.

“He makes me happy and I could care fucking less what he’s done. I’ve told you already, we’re all monsters, so stop acting like you’re some sort of saint. You’re just as evil as him.”

The pain on your upper arm was returning, and you felt a bit woozy from the blood loss so that was an indicator that it was time to go. You stood up and staggered a bit, but you quickly caught yourself before walking towards Han-seok.

His eyes somehow softened when they saw you, and you shot him a weak smile while you began to untie him from the chair. It took all of your strength to pull the drill that was beginning to pierce his skin away. You felt yourself almost collapse but Han-seok quickly caught you with his free hand.

“Are you oka–”

He shut you up as he connected his lips with yours, not caring about the taste of blood. A splurge of emotions hit you all at once, and all you could do was cup his face and kiss him back.

He pulled away and tilted his head. “You got shot yet you’re asking me if I’m okay? You’re crazy.”

“Crazy for you,” you giggled before coughing out. “Sorry, that was cringey.”

“No, it was cute.”

You both helped each other out. He kept you grounded and made sure you didn’t collapse while you continued to untie him. He wasn’t too injured, just had some bruised areas and soreness, on top of the small hole that began to drill itself on its chest — he’s perfectly okay. But you? You don’t even know how much blood you lost. You were too busy fighting Vincenzo to even pay attention to your wounded arm.

“C-Can we start over?” You blinked up at Han-seok who watched you with an intense look. “If we’re talking US dollars… I have about 980 million dollars right now. Let’s just… let’s just move to the… States and start over? Please?”

He looked you over and seemed to be in deep thought. He was aware Babel was screwed over and not much can be recovered after everything that happened. He doesn’t have any family, or friends. All he has is you. The United States wasn’t too bad of a place to relocate at, and as long as he’s spending it with you, he can fucking live with that.

“Can we do some side jobs while we’re there? If you know what I mean?” He smirked down at you while tapping your nose.

You grinned. “Of course.”

The two of you began to walk away but the sound of Vincenzo groaning made you stop.

“I hope… you… know… that you’re… not a sister… of mine,” he coughed out with a croak, his eyes meeting yours for one last time. “You’re… no family… to me.”

Your vision fogged up with tears and you turned away while taking a deep breath in. “Goodbye Vincenzo. Take care.”

It was rough, and really fucking hard for you to walk away from your brother. You might be crazy choosing Han-seok over him but you don’t care anymore. Being with him feels right.

But your time with him might just be short lived after all.

You collapsed to the ground as you felt light headed, and Han-seok was quick in catching you, his frantic eyes looking down at you.

“Hey hey, look at me.”

“Oh fuck,” you coughed out. “Am I going… to die?”

“No you fucking won’t,” he immediately took of his jacket and tore it up; wasting no time in bandaging your arm. “Stay with me.”

“I do… care,” you slurred out. “Please understand t-that… I do care about… you.”

“Shh, stop talking baby,” he cooed. “I know, and I’m right here.”

You really lost a lot of blood, and if Han-seok cannot find you treatment within the next half hour, you’re for sure going to be a goner. His voice seemed distant as he called for you, but you couldn’t even respond as you slipped into darkness, the feeling of something wet landing on your cheek was the last thing you remember feeling.

-

1 year later…

The sun was shining high on the horizon as Han-seok leaned against the railing on the balcony, his hand holding a mug of coffee. Ever since he left Korea, life has been amazing. Sure he’s not a top CEO anymore but it’s still fun feeding his crazy side by doing a lot of jobs under the radar. The money that you acquired from Vincenzo definitely helped a lot, and now he’s living the luxury life while owning a huge mansion — more like a manor — on top of a hill in Beverly Hills. On top of that, there’s that penthouse in New York and that gorgeous beach house in Miami.

What more can he want?

He felt your arms wrap themselves around his stomach as you hugged him from behind. You planted a soft kiss on his bare back before pressing your cheek against it.

“Why aren’t you in bed?”

“I wanted to admire the sunrise,” he chuckled and placed his coffee down. “But I might just admire you instead.”

He loves it when you wear his shirts. The way your soft legs are exposed to him and just seeing his stuff on you gives him the satisfaction that you’re actually his. He leaned down and kissed you before moving his lips towards your neck, already loving the feel of you shivering underneath his touch. He pulled you closer to him, his hands reaching down to squeeze your ass while you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Are you not wearing underwear?”

“We literally had sex last night, why would I put underwear on?”

“Just thought you would, but,” he caught you by surprise by slipping his fingers against your wet folds. “This will make this much easier.”

Neither of you wasted time in undressing the other, and he picked you up and placed you down on the balcony table. He pumped himself a few times before slowly going inside of you, the feeling of your warm walls clasping around his dick caused him to moan. You hooked one of your legs around his waist and placed the other on his right shoulder. Han-seok began to thrust and pound into you, your moans and screams echoing throughout the hills.

You feel so fucking good. He kissed your ankle before leaning down to kiss your lips again, silencing you immediately.

“Fuck, you’re mine,” he moaned out. “All fucking mine. You look so pretty down there. My fucking girl.”

He wasn’t done with you yet — without slipping out of you — he switched positions and sat down on one of the chairs outside. You straddled his lap and began to rock your hips, the two of you becoming a hot moaning mess for each other. Han-seok wrapped his arm around you while using his other to hold your chin, making you look at him. Nothing will ever beat this. He’s got the life he wanted and the girl of his dreams. He has money. A small sense of power still. A great sex life. And gets to travel the world with you.

People like him and you deserve to go to hell, but fuck that, you both were in heaven, and that’s all that mattered.

“I fucking love you, my pretty girl.”

“I love you too, my handsome boy.”

[dippersguidetotheunexplained]

Honestly very much agree to your points about the abuse things with Alex and Ford. It just feels off that he doesn’t recognize that Ford was abused, then having Bills background story feels like it could lead to more sympathy for Bill if not done properly imo. Then all the takes afterwards, they’d be so bad.

Then there’s the whole thing that I think going too much into Bills character would kinda ruin his character. As in he’s a fucked up triangle who veiws other beings as toys to manipulate. He’s chaotic, unpredictable, and manipulative so I feel like going into his full background just kinda ruins that. He needs mystery and no explanation to his actions to stay interesting to me.

Finally I feel like there’s so many other better things for a book imo. Like give us Ford and Fidds in college, give us Stan O War content, give us older or younger Mabel and Dipper, Stan and Soos, Ford during the portal, Stan fixing the portal, ect ect.

i think ive made another post about this before which i dont feel like looking for right now but yeah i agree completely. despite the means bill uses to achieve his goals being convoluted hes a relatively straightforward villain with pretty simple motivations so i dont really think a more detailed backstory/inner monologue is really going to do anything for him as a character. and yeah definitely dreading any potential woobification ive already been thru 2014 once lol.

its like, making journal 3 made a lot of sense yk? despite ford being this huge central figure in the plot we ultimately dont spend much time with him and dont get much runtime to hear his own thoughts about his past, despite it being the catalyst for everything in the show. so for better or worse (i know not everyone likes the journal, and its approach to show timelines can be a little. vibe-based.) the journal has a place in the overarching narrative of the show that i can understand, there was a lot to be gained from fleshing ford out more as a character and allowing us a glimpse into his perspective on everything. i dont feel this way at all when thinking about the book of bill? just as a concept? we already know why bill did the things he did. hes a being of chaos and abject cruelty whos powerful enough to feel more like a force of nature than a person at times, and i dont see how giving him more time to speak his piece will do anything other than undercut that. the book just very much feels like a strange, one off addon to me that feels years late

potential scrapped stan o war content is always on my mind... personally i still wish we got an art book 😔 im holding out hope

[angelosearch]

Little life/fic/project update...

I absolutely love my grad program and learning all this art therapy stuff but sometimes the spoon drawer just gets empty even when all you're eating is ice cream, you know?? Definitely hit a bit of a wall yesterday, especially with how stressful/unpredictable my internship has been. I took a mental health night (still had to intern for 5 hours and sit in an hour of traffic) and skipped class this evening... hoping that recharges me at least a little.

I fell behind with Inktober and it doesn't seem like I'm going to catch up. I have two sketches that I might ink and post but if it's between that and writing... I'm going to write.

The next chapter of "Chaos Theory" is in progress. I might finish it this week, but I'll have to see if it feels "complete" after I finish the current scene or if I want to add more. After that there is just two more chapters and the epilogue and two out of three of those I already have extremely strong drafts for!!

The one thing keep asking myself is have I answered all the questions? From watching the numbers I am guessing I have between 60-80 consistent readers (WHICH IS INSANE. And a huge honor!! so happy to share my story!!!!) and I don't want to let anyone down!! If you read CT, please let me know any outstanding questions you have in the story (like 'what's going on with x character?' or 'what's the explanation for this?' etc.). I have room to answer some things I might not have considered, but I need to know what I haven't considered!

Because I am so close to the end of CT, I haven't really touched anything else lately! Here are my rough writing goals looking toward the end of the year:

Finish posting CT before December. If I can, finish writing this month!

Finish writing CT "Rewind." I am about 60% of the way through overall and 50% through the next chapter.

Post at least one more FFVIII The Musical song by Halloween since that's when I started writing it last year.

Finish my Bingo card!

Write and post for my Yuletide exchange.

Write and post "Angelo: Search" (the next installment in the Angelo Combine series)

After that, I will probably try REALLY HARD not to start anything new (at least in the FFVIII fandom) until I finish some of my current multichapters. Update priority as I see it is:

Minute Hand

The Sorceress Awakens (and the rest of the New Beginning Series)

Vessel of Hyne's Grace

FFVIII The Musical

Of course, I have other non-fanfiction things I want to do before the end of the year/January, too. I have some people I want to visit, outstanding art projects, my new year's journal, holiday gifts to make (watch out my friends 👀), AMVs, class/finals... Yeah, so who knows how much of that is possible! Also I have SO MUCH reading to do!!

As always, these posts are more for my planning purposes than anything else!! I love a prioritized list, haha. Please continue your regularly scheduled scroll.