#mbbitsc

You felt your hair move. You sighed as your dark-eyed partner started twirling a strand of your hair. His own jet-black fringes, originally combed back with only a cowlick touching his face, was now a complete mess; made him look softer, maybe even kinder. 

“You look displeased,” he stated in Spanish, “or are you still hungry?”

You bring your legs closer together. You were itching for more, but you hated that smug smile on his face. “Some hungers should be starved.”

“I don’t think you should be saying that after everything.” He held up a pack of XXL condoms and shook it, revealing that it was empty. 

“There is no way we used all of those.” You may have been intoxicated and lost count of the positions that you two have been in, but you were certain that you didn’t just go through 24 condoms in one night. 

Your Juan Pérez remained stone-faced.

“Did we?”

Finally, his facade cracked and he chuckled. “We didn’t use all of them. I’ve already used up half before you,” he explained calmly, though his eyes sparkled with mischief. He was waiting for you to blow up, likely thinking you’d be jealous or resentful.

But he wasn’t really anybody to you. He was just a fuck. You didn’t care if he slept with other people. 

However, you needed to know. 

You looked up at the ceiling and asked, “You’re not married, are you?”

“You’re asking me that now?”

“Answer the question.”

There was a pause as he examined your expression. He finally said, “No, I’m not married.”

“Girlfriend?”

“I have many lovers.”

But no girlfriend it seemed. “Good.”

“How surprising. Usually, when I say that, my partner goes ballistic and I have to ask her to leave.”

“You’re an asshole.” You then turned to face him. “But as long as you’re not committed to one person, I can rest easy.”

“You’ve lost me.”

“Don’t get married.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had that one before.” Certainly not from a woman, were the words left unspoken.  

“I knew a man who loved his ladies.”

“You’d be hard pressed to find a man who doesn’t, unless he plays for the other team.”

You let out a snort of derision. Then you continued, “He had a wife and he still played around… he had many illegitimate children—those poor kids—he didn’t like any of them, you know? He didn’t care that they were born. He just wanted to have fun. You can have fun, but don’t get married, don’t promise devotion if you can’t provide it.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

It was your turn to stay quiet for a moment as you stared at his face. “You remind me of him. I wasn’t too fond of that man but… I regret not warning him.”

Your partner quirked an eyebrow. “You seem passionate about this.”

“Passionate? God, no. I’ve never been passionate about anything.” 

“I beg to differ. You were quite eager tonight, and I mean that as a compliment. Usually I need more than one lady to keep up with my needs.”

Ignoring the rather obvious bait, you asked him, “Wanna hear something interesting?”

He seemed disappointed for a moment before nodding. “Sure.”

“Apparently, I have a brain injury that’s been messing with my recall—my memories from when I was a teenager are so faint I don’t even know what I’ve lost. But I can remember things from way back when I was younger, and I don’t mean elementary school young—I remember being inside the womb.”

“That’s… that is fascinating.”

“Told you.” You smiled wryly. “I remember being so weak that I couldn’t roll over on my stomach. When I raised my hand like this—” you reached for the ceiling, spreading your fingers “—it was definitely a newborn’s hand. I remember that there was a mobile above me. It wasn’t anything special, just a typical mobile with two goldfish and a bunch of seashells going round and round over my head. The woman who gave birth to me was crying. I can’t see her face no matter what. She kept saying that she failed and blamed me for being born as a girl. She did that a lot, and she was always crying, so I don’t know if minutes or days had passed. But in one moment, I opened my eyes and I saw that mobile still going round and round above me, two goldfish chasing after each other, and then I saw my mother’s feet, they were in the air, too.”

“...”

“Interesting, right? I’ve forgotten years of my life, and I’m scared of losing more, but my brain can’t seem to forget that memory. I don’t mind forgetting but something inside me refuses to let go. No matter how hard I look back, I can’t see her face, but I can still hear her cries and I still see her feet, suspended in the air with those plastic fish.” Feeling the exhaustion creep in, you closed your eyes and, before passing out, you said with a sigh, “Don’t promise what you can’t give.”

When Gitae Kim exhaled, his assistant and the madame of this establishment flinched in unison. He’s had every available woman in this brothel, and the one across the street, and the one in the neighboring city, but every single one of them left him disappointed. 

He had no habit of hitting or berating his bed partners, whether he paid them or not, but somehow all these girls irritated him. 

The way they touched him, the way they mewled, the way they fawned over him—everything he used to crave annoyed him now. 

He rose to his feet without warning and everyone scrambled out of his way. He didn’t bother to zip up before leaving the room. 

The assistant handed the briefcase of cash to the madame before chasing after Gitae.

“Boss, should we drive to the next brothel?”

Gitae clicked his tongue, shaving years off the poor man’s life. “No.” He got inside the back of the car. “Drive me to a bar.”

It didn’t take long for Gitae to catch the eye of a beautiful woman. She was curvaceous with long legs, the dream of any man. He wasted no time in bedding her. He let her take the lead and even encouraged her to kiss him as he pistoned in and out of her. 

After his first release, he had no desire for another round and remained still on his side of the bed. 

“Are you all right?” she asked, snuggling next to him. “You look disappointed.” 

He was still hungry. “I was just thinking.”

“You’re so rude,” she joked. “This is the part where you should be reassuring me that I was amazing, even if it isn’t true.”

This would be the time where his erection would have returned and he’d eat her again. But Gitae’s hunger didn’t want her. He didn’t know what he wanted. 

When he didn’t say anything, the woman tilted her head. “What’re you thinking about?”

“I want something.” He shut his eyes. “I keep looking but I can’t find it, but I don’t even know what it is.”

After a while, the woman spoke up again, “Oh, dear, I think I know what’s happening.”

“I’m open to suggestions.”

“It’s not an it, señor,”[1] she clarified, “you’re yearning for someone.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“I have three brothers. I’ve seen that look of regrets way too many times.”

“Regret?”

“Uh-huh. The regret of letting the one get away.”

Gitae finally opened his eyes to glare at her.

She laughed. “Did you break up recently? Did you decide to let a friend or brother keep her? Don’t tell me you cheated on her.” 

“I think you have drunk too much.” Gitae was not interested in any of this. He didn’t bother to cover up as he stood and searched for his pants.

“If you don’t believe me, then ask any woman and she will tell you, you’re clearly in love,” she yelled as he stepped outside. 

“Goodbye.” He slammed the door.

He called for his assistant and demanded to be driven to the nearest brothel.

Gitae Kim in love? Preposterous.

Over two years have passed since then. He's returned to his father's homeland and he's yet to find what he's been searching for.

“So it’s true.” Diego Kang, formerly known as James Lee, walked into Gitae Kim’s suite with the usual unnervingly serene smile. His formerly wild red hair was now an obnoxious pink.

“I heard that you sent the ladies home.” He looked around the room. “Were they too plain for your taste?”

Gitae Kim didn't move from his armchair, nor did he bother to cross his legs. Anyone who walked into his hotel room had a full view of everything under his robe. “No.” 

“Did they offend you in some way?”

“They did their job. There was no reason to keep them around,” Gitae grumbled. “What brings you here?”

“I’m here to check up on you, of course.”

“To make sure I don’t go around causing discord?”

Diego just continued to smile.

“I told you,” Gitae sighed, “I’m only here as a layover, I don’t intend to stay for long.”

“Good. We don’t have much use for you at the moment so lay low in Mexico until we call for you.”

Gitae finally got up from his chair and approached Diego with a steady gaze. “Did that cheap hair dye finally seep into your brain? I’m not your dog, James Lee.”

Diego didn’t falter as he replied, “I misspoke. I’m merely giving you a polite reminder that the stage for your return hasn’t been prepared so it’s best to stay in Mexico.”

Satisfied, Gitae turned around and went to grab a bag of chips from his stash. 

“You seem awfully ornery today,” the pink-haired pretty boy said. For whatever reason, he was still here. 

“I received a visit from an annoying guest.”

“I heard a rumor that you have been going around Southeast Asia looking for someone.”

So that’s why he was still here.

Gitae said nothing else, opting to eat instead.

Diego cocked his head to the side. “I heard you’re looking for a woman.”

Gitae clicked his tongue. 

The pink freak raised his hands in the air and shook his head. “Make no mistake, I’m not trying to make fun of you. If it’s true, then I congratulate you.”

“Hah?”

In a split second, Diego was right in front of him again, wearing a psychotic smile. It reminded Gitae of the time James Lee fought with a powerful opponent, but rather than bloodlust, his expression now held something else. 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Love is a precious thing. I’m glad you found yours.”

“???”

Diego’s pocket played a familiar melody—the chorus that plays when a bride walks down the aisle. “Speak of the devil.” He took a step back and pulled out his phone, his sinister grin softening into something more normal. “My job here is done so I’ll be going now.”

Before leaving, he threw one last look at Gitae. “I know you won't be in Korea for long, but you shouldn’t stay cooped up in here all day. It’s bad for the skin.”

Ugh. 

Gitae shoved a handful of chips into his mouth. Outside of combat, he never understood that freak.

***

You were debating between two lipsticks when DG barreled into you from behind.

“Sorry I’m late, noona.”

“It’s fine.”

“Were you lonely? Do you want to hit me as punishment?”

“First things first, get your hands off me.”

“Whoops. Sorry.” He pulled his arms away from your waist, but he looked hardly apologetic. 

After the whole Jiho Park disaster, you and Diego have been hanging out more often. To be more precise, you found him “running into” you a lot: in the grocery store; in your building elevator despite him living in a different condo; in your 24/7 pharmacy while you’re buying sanitary napkins… You decided that it was easier to just invite him and pretend that your relationship’s normal. 

Today, you were restocking your makeup collection since everything you owned was turned to ash. Gun wanted to come with you, but he and Goo had a job, and Samuel’s schedule was packed full. 

You held up the tubes in front of Diego, who was very familiar with makeup. “Jungle Red or Indulgent Sunrise?” 

“These are way more colorful than your usual pick.”

“Yes, well, I already have my workplace makeup down, but I want something more festive for special occasions.”

“Like our wedding—”

“Like dates. So…” You showed off your left knuckle, a line of velvet, “Jungle Red, or—” you raised your right knuckle, which had a line of orange-pink “—Indulgent Sunrise?”

Diego glanced between colors before saying, “I’m not sure. They both look good on you.”

“Well, duh. You think I don’t know what looks good on me? I’m trying to decide which is better.”

“Hm… it’s hard to say. Since you’re planning to use them on dates, why not see which looks better as a kiss mark,” he offered, silver eyes twinkling. 

“That’s not a bad idea.”

“Wait, what? I was joking.”

“I know, but both look great on me, I’ve been debating for five minutes. Maybe this will help me make up my mind.”

You put on Jungle Red first and then kissed the back of your left hand. You wiped your lips, applied Indulgent Sunrise, and kissed your right fist. 

You put down the lipsticks and held your hands under the light. “Yeah, this didn’t help. What do you think, Diego?”

He didn’t reply and you had to call his name again. “What’re you spacing out for?”

Diego, who was right behind you, snaked his arms under yours and intertwined your fingers, raising your hands closer to the light. “Your kiss marks are adorable, noona.”

“Um, okay?”

He fell silent again, his breathing becoming more shallow over your shoulder while he admired the lipstick marks.

“So…? Which one should I get?”

“Just get them both.”

“You know how I feel about buying more than what I need—”

“Then I’ll buy them for you.” His grip tightened. “You look pretty in both.”

[1] Señor. Spanish for "mister" or "sir."

a/n: Not Gitae's one night stand being our fairy godmother/Cupid LOL. Also, James, your inner cuck is showing and you don't even know it. 🙄

taglist: @sm3156, @placid-plastic, @yin-yun, @ixchelhernandez4, @janeisnotonline, @cocooola, @ficrepostblog, @peachmangoe, @saltyeli, @pauxf013, @sugarrushbell, @sleepingzzzzz, @eyeless-kun, @sh0jun, @kitty-chan33, @elizaliza159, @noxus123, @linasxoxo, @luckyangelballoon, @misshyori, @rosehoneycomb, @sparrowwithaquill

Disclaimer: The images used do not belong to me. The screencaptures are from Ep. 497, 584, 531 & 367 - Lookism, Webtoon

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My Baby Brother is the Strongest Character Masterlist

Diego Kang surprises you with a scale model of your future house together. “I designed it myself. I wasn’t sure if you wanted kids, but just in case, I added ten bedrooms, which is a good thing. Now your…concubines have some place to sleep.” And after you’re done admiring the dollhouse, he pulls you close until your back hits his chest, then he scoops you up from under the knees before manually rubbing your covered clit against the roof until you start bucking against him, urging him to go faster.

Samuel Seo gets injected with a drug that amplifies his insecurities and accidentally finds you. He pins you down but, using his last shred of clarity, smashes his head into the floor instead. “Noona, please run away while I can still think… I don’t want to—fffuuck—! Please …I don’t want you to hate me.” But you cup his face instead. Giving him the usual warm and kind smile you always do, you tell him: “It’s okay to let go, Sammy. No matter what, we’ll always be friends.” In his inferiority complex-fueled state, hearing the word “friends” finally makes him snap and he rips off your clothes. He then throws your legs over his shoulders, lifts you up so high you're hanging off him, then he digs in like a man starved. When he recovers he gets on his hands and knees and nose to beg for forgiveness, even offering his face for some good ‘ol slapping. (As punishment, he says.)

Jake “the romantic virgin” Kim doing it raw for the first time and he is gobsmacked with how big a difference one thin layer of latex (or lack thereof) can make. He can feel your pulse, how every part of you is sucking him in, begging him for more, and when he finally comes, he’s so delirious from the pleasure that he keeps pumping into you, his bestial instincts taking over to push his seed back inside you. He’s so out of it, he can’t hear your pleas to stop and let go because “he’s getting bigger again” and “rougher” and you’re already so sensitive. When he recovers, he also gets on his hands and knees and nose to beg for forgiveness. He then offers his balls for you to step on. (As punishment, of course…)

Gitae Kim, after some persuasion on your part, finally wraps the handle of his axe with a condom before gently shoving it into your welcoming hole. Your moans fill the room, urging him to go faster. He is careful not to cut you with the blade as he ramps up the speed of his pumps, and he pulls out the handle just as you start bucking, your wetness spraying all over him as you scream in ecstasy.

He then spends the rest of the night and the following morning glaring at his axe. What was so good about a wooden handle? You’ve never squirted like that with him.

He mutters, “I’m way bigger.” Then he looks down at the man whose legs he just cut off. “Don’t you think so?”

The poor bastard has no idea what’s happening, especially as Gitae kneels down and points the handle towards his nose. “Can you smell her?”

“I—”

Gitae cleaves his face in two, getting jealous again. 

Goo Kim, who thinks that money is better than sex, who sees boobs as merely lumps of fat, who got rid of his virginity just to see what all the fuss was about, accidentally walking in on you with someone and, after making a quick get away, realizes that he’s jealous of the man holding you. 

He denies these weird feelings until the strain in his boxers start demanding for relief; until he finds that thinking of unsexy things does nothing to chase away the moving picture of you—the way your hand caressed your lover’s cheek while the other combed through his hair, the way the cute rolls of your belly moved with each breath in a way that made him want to bite every inch you—the lust-filled gaze as you two locked eyes for the briefest moment—

“Ah, fuck!”

White, hot cum spills over his phone; over his homescreen, a picture of your laughing face.

He can’t remember when he has ever used a woman’s photo for his background before…

“Ah,” he groans as he takes off his glasses and covers his eyes. “Fuck!” 

For the first time in his life, Goo Kim wants to kiss someone and it’s his best friend’s sister.

a/n: a couple of things—

Can you tell which ones were written first and with a very specific scenario in mind? 

Big Deal bros losing control over noona 🫶 (and Jake truly being Gap Kim’s son 😅)

I headcanon Goo to be demiromantic and demisexual.

I love it when goofy men get serious and when serious men go wild. Some men are just shameless perverts though. (I still love them.)

taglist: @sm3156, @placid-plastic, @yin-yun, @ixchelhernandez4, @janeisnotonline, @cocooola, @ficrepostblog, @peachmangoe, @saltyeli, @pauxf013, @sugarrushbell, @sleepingzzzzz, @eyeless-kun, @sh0jun, @kitty-chan33, @elizaliza159, @noxus123, @linasxoxo, @luckyangelballoon

Disclaimer: The images used do not belong to writerclaire. They are screencaptures from Ep. 531, 466 & 557 - Lookism, Webtoon.

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Today was supposed to be another simple Saturday. It was cloudy and warm, the perfect day for a picnic. Normally, he would be chatting your ear off while you ate, but James was quiet as he stared at the bento you made. He had no appetite.

"You okay?" you asked.

He only shrugged.

You chalked it up to hormones and started without him.

You were never much of a talker, at least not with James, so only the sound of your chewing and the chirping of birds filled the air while he watched you eat.

After a while, he finally broke his silence.

"Who was he?"

You paused, mouth open, the tip of your onigiri stilled between your teeth.

James, wearing an eerily calm smile, continued, "Yesterday, I saw you laughing with another nurse. Who was he?"

"You just answered your own question."

"You told me that you don’t have friends—"

"—I never said that—"

"—well, you described the people at the hospital as 'strictly co-workers.'"

"That’s true, but that doesn’t automatically mean I have no friends!"

"Do you have friends? Outside of work, I mean."

"..."

"Thought so." James picked a cherry tomato from his lunchbox and started turning it over like he was appraising a gemstone. "That’s why I’m asking who that guy was. You two seemed awfully close."

"You’re overthinking this. Co-workers share jokes too." 

James recalled your beaming, and how needlessly close the other nurse was standing. You’ve always been the touchy type, sometimes you’d pinch or poke James out of habit but when you realized what you were doing, you would pull back like you touched something dirty. But when you brushed that man’s arm, it was deliberate. Playful.

Enticing.

"By the way, James, you should stop coming over unless it’s a real emergency."

You never tired of telling him to stop dropping by without a good reason. "It’s inappropriate." "Go do your homework at home." "Shouldn’t you be with your friends?"

But every single time he showed up at your doorstep, bruised and cut, you never turned him away. You both knew that at some point, your requests became just another habit. You weren’t an idiot. You must have figured out that his injuries—superficial, visible at a glance and never needing the ER—were self-induced. If you did, you were yet to bring it up. 

Thorny as you can be, you were also soft-hearted. 

"James."

He put down the tomato. "Yes, noona?"

"I mean it, you need to stop showing up at my house. I went to the grocery store and guess what? I overheard my neighbors—they’re convinced that I’m having an affair with a highschooler."

"I’m legally an adult though."

"Stop." 

"And it’s not like we do anything special. You’re too much of a prude."

You rubbed your temples.

"You never cared about gossip before, noona. What changed?"

"Just—" you took a deep breath before meeting his eyes "—I don't mind eating with you at the hospital. The patients love you so that's fine. But promise me you’ll stop visiting my house."

Your expression was pleading.

Even when you were kind to him you were guarded; this was the first time he saw you desperate.

His heart pounded with both excitement and hurt.

"Okay," he relented. "If that’s what you want."

You finally smiled and it was like a weight off his chest.

"Thank you, James."

"Don’t sweat it, noona. I promise I’ll stop showing up at your front door—unless it's an emergency."

"You better not break your promise, brat." You transferred the remaining tomato from your bento into his own. "Hurry up and eat already. Were you sucking on lollipops again? I told you it would ruin your appetite."

"I won’t." He picked up the tomato and popped it into his mouth.

***

As a single woman living alone, you were properly paranoid. When you moved in, you replaced the hinges on the front door and installed four different locks. You even reinforced the windows with iron grates.

If only you did the same for the second floor bathroom. Granted, with the way this house was designed and positioned, it wasn't easy for intruders to climb up the wall or even peek in. Maybe you thought it would be a waste of resources.

No matter. James would be right here if any thief or pervert decided to break in. He would take care of them before they disturbed your rest.

Leaving the window open, he walked gave the bathroom a once-over. The hangers were bare and your basket was empty. "Oh, yeah. I forgot—" He tucked his hands in the kangaroo pocket of his sweatshirt as he stepped into the hallway "—today's laundry day."

He crept his way towards your bedroom. He pulled out the duplicate key he made and unlocked the door.

Everything in this old house creaked, especially the doors, but for all your paranoia, you were a deep sleeper.

"Oh?"

James had to do a double take when entered.

The oversized t-shirt you wore during laundry day was hiked up to your collarbone, your breasts and belly in full display as they moved in tandem with your snores. Bunched up around your left ankle was your panties.

James walked closer. "That's weird." You were a creature of habit—also a bit of a neat freak—so you always cleaned up before going to sleep.

"Was today extra tiring, noona?" he asked, combing back the stray hairs that stuck to your face.

He then lowered his mouth on your forehead, still wet with sweat.

"Nn…"

He moved down and buried his nose in your neck. James took a deep breath, inhaling your scent before pulling back. "I was hoping to watch, but it can't be helped." You masturbated almost every night. You were always careful, closing your doors and drawing the curtains, but as James discovered, you didn't lock or check your closet, which made it the perfect hiding place.

He can still remember the first time he watched you. It was an accident—a happy coincidence.

It was also the first time he broke into your house.

The reserved professional who protected her patients without fail, the grouchy woman who used to look at him with annoyance, the kind but distant noona who cleaned his wounds while scolding him—suddenly, you were open and vulnerable, crying and moaning and panting as you chased your high—and it thrilled him. Just seeing your face when you finally achieved ecstasy was enough for him—he didn't even realized he came with you.

"But still, you're so unfair," he grumbled, crawling between your legs. "You had your fun, so let me have this, yeah?"

Slowly, he pressed the tip of his nose into your womanhood.

James grunted. No used panties could compare to the real thing.

He wondered what would happen if he had a taste right here, right now. Would you wake up to his tongue? Would you scream and kick him out? Would you freeze from shock?

Or would you surrender to pleasure and shove his face closer?

James shut his eyes. You smelled like sin, tempting and inviting. What did you actually taste like?

He took one last deep breath before finally sitting up. He fished inside his pocket for a lollipop. He wanted your first time together to be special, so for now, he had to settle for the next best thing.

He brushed it against your lips.

Smiling, James bent down and kissed the candy as it laid on your pretty mouth.

He sighed and then pulled back again.

He palmed your thigh with his free hand as he pressed the head of the lollipop inside your cunt—tenderly, like a virgin leaning in for their first kiss.

Your legs shivered.

He pushed the candy upward, tugging the hood of your swollen clit.

Your hips buckled slightly and James snickered. "Okay, I'm sorry. I'll stop now." He retrieved the candy, a thin, sticky string of your fluid stretched with it.

He grinned and stuck the lollipop between his teeth, sucking the string like it was ambrosia.

All that sugar overpowered your taste, but for now, he can live with this.

"Nn…" You let go of your vibrator and wrapped your arms around yourself.

James suddenly felt guilty. He didn't realize how cold it's gotten.

"You must be freezing."

He pulled your shirt down, the hem falling above your thighs, and unhooked the panties from your ankle. He then covered you with the duvet. As for the vibrator, he cleaned it with soap and water and left it to dry on your vanity. James was unafraid of you getting suspicious. He had long figured out that you were prone to memory issues. You would wake up tomorrow and think that you "forgot" that you did all this, just like how you will think that you went to bed in just a t-shirt.

"Sweet dreams, noona." He shut the door and locked it from the outside.

"Now then…" He squeezed your crumpled panties inside his pocket like a stress ball. "When should I tell her that bastard's already married?"

"Heh," Diego chuckled at the memory. He was currently reviewing his schedule for the month with his boss.

Charles Choi cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing. I just remembered the folly of my youth."

Charles' bodyguard, Goo Kim, rubbed his arms viciously. "Ugh. Stop talking—better yet, stop smiling, it's giving me the creeps."

DG ignored him and reached into his pocket.

As James Lee, he was young and impulsive. He didn't tell you about that adulterer because how else was he, as a concerned third party, would report the affair to the wife? He didn't like seeing that woman storm into the ER and slapping you in front of everyone, but he was hoping it would ruin your reputation just enough for you to break down and fall into his arms.

Sure, you were never buddy buddy with fellow staff, but you maintained a healthy amount of respect for each other. The affair blew up, affecting not just your relationship with your colleagues but also your patients and neighbors—it was, after all, a small town. You went from loner to a pariah. James plan was to isolate you completely, and it did work, but he miscalculated your reaction.

Instead of breaking down, you packed up and moved to Mexico. In a way, he was the one who drove you into Gitae Kim's arms.

DG squeezed your panties, fresh off the hanger.[1]

You needed to know that he was just a cartel thug. DG knew that Gun and Goo haven't disclosed the true nature of their jobs, because how can someone as sweet as you tolerate what they actually do?

"Seriously," Goo said, irritated, "what the hell are you thinking about that's so funny?"

"Do you think a bunny can live happily in a cage?"

"What?"

"I think she can, as long as she doesn't know she's inside one."

"???"

[1] I'll leave it up to you whether you want this to be the same panties from your past, which he has kept and maintained after all these years, or if it's a random pair he swiped from your balcony/laundry room when he visited you recently LOL

a/n: I miss pink haired!DG--AND RED HAIR BRO. HE'S SUCH A LITTLE PSYCHO. 😩

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Disclaimer: The images used are screencaptures from Ep. 496, 308, 490, 491, 432 & 479 - Lookism, Webtoon.

My Baby Brother is the Strongest Character Masterlist

"You used to work at a hospital. Why the change? Couldn't take the heat?"

"The job market is trash and this place pays decently."

He put his hands over your desk and leaned over you. "Come work for me. I'll pay you so much you can retire before you turn thirty."

"Tempting," you replied dryly as you put on your reading glasses and unlocked your laptop.

"I didn't know you wear glasses."

"I'm not super dependent on them but yes, I do wear them when I need to stare at a screen or read reports like right now, so please go away." Your fingers stopped typing as you realized something. "Wait, how did you know I worked here?"

"I wonder too."

Did he do a background check on you?

Ugh.

You were annoyed at him, at the guard—but above all, you were annoyed with yourself. You should've been more angry than you were right now. You should be cussing him out or calling 911 or calling your brother for help. The old you, the one who lived in the "real world" would have never put up with this kind of behavior. However, it seemed that your boundaries have been severely warped by the handsome faces around you.

"Relax, mi vida. Here." He put something down on the table and slid it forward. It was your missing school ID.

You stared at it, then back at him.

"Don't look at me like that. I didn't swipe it from you."

"I didn't say anything."

"You dropped it in the convenience store."

You could have just left it with the guard. "Thank you for returning it." You tried to retrieve the ID, but his fingers kept pressing down.

"What time do you get off?"

"…I have a lot of work today so I'll be doing some overtime. My students tend to get into fights so I need to write reports, do inventory, all that jazz."

"Do you hate me?"

Well, that came out of nowhere. "Don't flatter yourself. I don't have that kind of energy."

"Do you dislike me?"

You tried very hard to pull back your ID but it refused to budge. With a sigh, you slumped in your chair. "I don't dislike you, Gitae-ssi—"

"You keep acting like we're strangers."

"We are strangers. For God's sake, we had sex for one night. You're acting like I'm you're, I dunno, you're ex-wife or something."

"What will it take for you to go out with me?"

"Would you please—"

Footsteps and voices echoed outside.

"Oh, hey, little Daniel! What're you doing here?"

"Hi Vasco. Um, the other Daniel is still sick so I went to school in his place. Hehe…heh…"

"I see, I see. Are you going to meet with Miss Angel?"

"Yeah…"

"Perfect, I'm actually bringing one of my friends here to rest. He got knocked out while we were sparring."

Panicking, you shot up, nearly knocking your chair down. It was one thing for the school to gossip about your love life but if the students caught you with a strange man in your office, you could kiss your job goodbye. If it were Gun or even Samuel, you could probably talk your way out of it, but anyone with half a brain could tell Gitae Kim was no ordinary visitor.

The students knocked on the door—

You rushed to Gitae's side. "Fine, I'll go out with you, but move!" you whispered, tugging his arm. He followed you without protest—ignoring the shock that he actually obeyed, you shoved him under the desk.

"Miss Angel, guess who's here!" Vasco stepped inside. "It's little Daniel!"

You returned to your chair, squeezing your thighs tightly together. You wore a pantyhose under your skirt, but you wanted your intruder to see as little as possible. "H-hi boys," you greeted them with a smile.

"Are you okay, noona?" Little Daniel asked.

"Of course! Anyway, what's up?"

Vasco turned around, showing an unconscious Jace on his back. "Can Jace rest here for a while? I accidentally knocked him out while we were sparring."

"Lay him down on the cot. I'll examine him for any other inju—rieees!?" Dry lips touched your knee.

The boys freaked out. "Noona? What is it?!"

"Leg cramp. I'm okay now." You crossed your legs, deliberately hitting Gitae's face as you did. "Anyway, what about you Daniel, what can I do for you?"

"Um, My mother said to give you this." He placed a medium-sized tote bag on the table. "They're mom's specialty rice cakes. It's a thank you for the green tea you gave us."

"Oh, she didn't have to…" You met Mrs. Park once when she and Big Daniel went to a cafe, then you crossed paths a few more times after that. She was a sweet woman and often told you that you reminded her of an old friend. "Send her my thanks. How's her back? Is she doing better?"

"Yes, the exercises you shared were really helpful." He bowed. "Thank you again."

"Hey, just doing my job as a nurse. Is there anything else I can help you wi—!?" You let out an embarrassing squeal. You covered your mouth as the students blinked, wide-eyed in confusion.

Gitae Kim palmed your outer thighs, sneaking up your skirt like large snakes. His warm hands brought back vivid memories of your night in Tijuana.

"Miss Angel?" "Noona?"

You cleared your throat and rest your heel atop Gitae's crotch—a very clear threat. Above the desk, you gave the boys a bright smile. "I suddenly don't feel well. If there's nothing else, would you boys kindly close the door on the way out? I'll check up on Jace and Daniel? Send my thanks to your mother."

"O-okay."

"Thank you, nurse!"

They bowed one last time before exiting the room. Once the door clicked shut, you rolled back your chair and glared at a blank-faced Gitae. His hands were not only under your skirt, they were cradling your ass now.

"What the hell were you thinking?! Do you want me to hit you?"

"I'll take what I can get," he breathed, squeezing your backside.

You pulled back your knee and then stomped on his groin, springboarding your chair backwards.

Gitae chuckled. Your little attack did nothing but amuse him. You knew you couldn't hurt this bastard even if you tried but it still felt satisfying to step on him.

"So, what time do you get off work?" He grasped the edge of the desk and began to pull himself out.

You got up from your seat. "What?"

"You didn't forget your promise, did you?"

"I—"

Jace groaned and rolled over on his cot.

You jumped towards Gitae, your belly hitting his nose and forcing him to stay under the table. "Jace, you're awake! Vasco, was really worried about you."

"Hm? Oh, hello, nurse. I… how long was I out?"

"I-I'm not sure, actually, a couple of minutes? How do you feel?"

Gitae's breaths tickled you but you managed to keep a straight face.

Jace blinked a couple of times before sitting up. "A little sore, but mostly fine."

"Don't move!"

Your shouting seemed to have woken him up completely.

"Stay right there, y-you could have a concussion."

"I'll be fine, nurse." Jace laughed, wobbling to his feet. "You're acting like this is a new thing. I've had hundreds of concussions since entering J High!"

That's even more concerning, Jace! "You should really stay put."

Gitae rubbed his cheek against you like a stray chasing warmth. You folded your hands over the crown of his head. At least he wasn't groping your ass anymore.

"I don't wanna miss class," Jace blurted out. "If I feel any worse, I'll come back here, I promise. Later, Miss Angel!"

He sprung out of the infirmary before you could stop him.

Jace shut the door behind him and silently screamed. She was totally hiding someone in there! Despite your best efforts, he could spot the jet-black hair peeking from the edge of the table.

He bit into his handkerchief. Don't worry, Miss Angel, your secret is safe with me. Vasco, I'm sorry but you're a blabbermouth so this is something you must never find out!

On the other side of the door, you almost collapsed into a pile of nerves if not for Gitae holding your legs.

Channeling the anxiety into anger, you yelled, "What is your problem, asshole? I could've gotten into trouble. What if the students saw you? I could lose my job!"

He remained pressed against your stomach and said nothing for a while. Then, he finally met your eyes and smirked. "Then I guess you'd have to work for me."

With one hand, you grabbed him by the jaw and pushed his chin further upward. "Listen, I don't know why you're so obsessed with me, but this is my job. I like the people here so don't you ever, ever pull this kind of stunt again."

"Or what?" His Adam's apple bobbed. "You gonna kick me in the crotch again?"

A scoff left your mouth, which curled into a frustrated half-smile. "You said you wanted to hire me? You could offer me a billion won and I still wouldn't work for a pervert like you."[2]

His smug smirk was nowhere to be seen and you gave yourself a pat on the back.

But then he slowly stood up, hands moving from your knees to your thighs, tracing the curves of your hips and the dip in your waist before stopping right below your ribcage.

You'd be lying if you didn't admit how good his touch felt.

He stared down at you.

"What?" you asked impatiently. Anyone could walk in and you wanted nothing more but for him to vanish.

Gitae raised one hand to your face and you were sure that he was going to slap you. You braced yourself, waiting to be murdered, but instead his calloused thumb traced the bottom of your lips.

You opened your eyes and found him smiling down at you like you were a disobedient kitten. Somehow that pissed you off more than his touches.

He leaned forward—

Just as when the combined odor of leather, cigar and cologne almost made you gag, he whispered, "Call me a pervert again."

You wished you could vomit all over him right now.

Gritting your teeth, you put a hand on his chest and pushed—miraculously, he stepped back.

"I get off at four," you surrendered, feeling your soul leak out of your body, "so get out before anybody else can see you."

He unlatched your window. "Estupendo. I'll send someone to pick you up."[3]

The fresh afternoon breeze blew past him and straight to your nose.

"Hey, wait."

"Yes, mi vida?"

"I don't know what you're planning but can you take a shower and not smoke before we meet up? I almost threw up on you."

"…"

"…"

He burst out laughing.

He then reached over to you again, this time to pick a leaf from your hair. "All right. As you wish, dear angel."

And with that, he leapt off the window like an action star.

You rolled your eyes and returned to your desk, where you discovered that he had placed a piece of paper inside the ID case.

You unfolded the paper. It was an up to date summary of his physical exam and lab results. He was healthy as a horse.

You put a hand over your mouth, grinning despite yourself. "Pervert."

***

You had no intention of beautifying yourself for that bastard Gitae Kim, but that didn't mean you were going to meet with him looking like crap, so during your break, you washed your hair and face in the restroom. You applied some minimal makeup you brought with you to school and then styled your hair using a blow dryer one of the teachers confiscated from a student.

As you waited at the school gate, you sent your brother a quick message telling him that you'll be home late to hang out with some work friends. He hasn't been home for days because of work, but you liked to keep him informed nonetheless.

Kiddo: OK. Take care. Tell me if you need a ride home. I'll get someone to pick you up.

Just as you replied with a heart, a black limo stopped in front of you.

A young man stepped out of the driver's seat. He had dark skin, face tattoos and a pair of rectangular glasses.

He greeted you with a bow. "Good day, miss. My name is Isu Jo. Mr. Gitae Kim sent me."[4]

"Nice to meet you, um, sorry but can we talk inside the car?"

"Of course."

He opened the door for you and you tried not to look too rushed when you dove inside.

Once he was buckled up, you asked, "Isu Jo-ssi—"

"Please just call me Jo, miss."

"Okay…Jo." You then introduced yourself and told him that he can just call you normally.

He refused. "You are Mr. Kim's most honored guest, I can't be disrespectful."

You had a feeling he won't budge on the matter so you let it go. "Do you mind telling me where we're headed?"

"Unfortunately, Mr. Kim's residence in Seoul is still under construction so you will be meeting him at Hotel Marisol. It's only thirty minutes away but please feel free to catch up on some sleep."

The hotel name sounded familiar, but it wasn't until you reached the establishment did you realize that it was where Goo discovered your relationship with Gun.

"Is everything all right?" Jo asked when he escorted you into the elevator.

"Yeah, I just didn't expect a hotel." A five-star hotel and you were in your wrinkled nurse uniform. It's a good thing I washed up before coming here, you reassured yourself.

Isu Jo spoke up, "You're the first and only woman Mr. Gitae Kim has ever known by name."

"Huh?"

"He ordered me to make sure you arrived safely and that you were comfortable. He's never done that for anyone before."

Is he trying to comfort you? Are you supposed to feel flattered?

If anything, his statements make Gitae Kim sound like a grade-S douchebag.

There are countless men who treat women like they are disposable. Are you supposed to worship Gitae Kim because he decided that you alone were suddenly special and "not like the rest"?

In your first life and in this one, you have seen this kinda stuff play out so many times to the point of being cliché. Boy meets Girl he can't control. Boy tells Girl she's different from the other girls. Boy treats her well so Girl falls in love. Boy gets bored and leaves Girl heartbroken. Roll credits.

You supposed you can't get too angry. You were no saint yourself. You've had your own fair share of flings that could put Samantha Jones and Blanche Devereaux to shame. (Well, okay, maybe not that far.) [6]

Anyway, you knew the kind of man Gitae Kim was thanks to the webcomic; he and his fictional counterpart may not be a 1:1 match but he was clearly a womanizer just like his father. There was no way he would remain fixated on you forever.

Once he gets what he wants, he will get bored and leave you alone.

For now, you would play ball and hopefully get something good out of this… transaction.

The elevator stopped at the sixty-eighth floor, which you doubt was coincidence.

You followed Iso Jo down the corridor. Upon reaching Gitae's suite he used his keycard and opened the door for you.

"Mr. Kim already ordered room service for dinner. It should arrive soon, but if you want something else, there is a menu on the kitchen counter, right next to the phone." With a bow, he offered the keycard to you. "Please take this."

"Thanks, Jo."

"My pleasure, miss. I wish you two a fantastic evening." He bowed once more before stepping out.

Left alone, you were free to examine the suite. As expected, it was bigger than the commonfolk's apartments. There were more decorations here than in the room you and Goo stayed in.

Normally, you would've kept to yourself when visiting someone else's home, but honestly, considering the boundaries he crossed inside your office, snooping around his temporary place felt like a minor offense.

Unlike most hotel rooms, this suite had a closed floor plan, so the kitchen and bedrooms were separated from the living room. For now, you stayed clear of either bedroom, as you figured Gitae was probably napping inside.

Bossa nova played from the speakers.

They say that a man's trash can tell a lot about him so you peeked into the garbage bins. A large part of you expected to find crumpled up tissues or used condoms, but there were only empty soda cans and bags of chips.

Huh.

You snatched a complementary pencil from the coffee table and lifted the layers in one of the bins. Nothing exciting, just more discarded food and drink receptacles.

"Having fun, princesa?"[5]

"Eep!" The pencil flew from your hands. You tried to catch it but it kept bouncing off you like a slippery juggler's ball.

Gitae caught it with ease before handing it over. "Is rifling through other people's trash a hobby of yours?"

"No." You took the pencil from him. "But you could say it's a habit from a past job."

He quirked his eyebrow.

"I used to collect trash and dumpster dive before Gapryong-nim helped me."

A shadow fell over his face. The wisest move here was to avoid mentioning Gapryong Kim in front of this guy.

But hey, what's the point in a second life if you can't be a little more foolish?

"I've been wondering for a while, but how do you know Gapryong Kim?" you asked, playing dumb.

"He's my father."

He admitted it right away. How boring.

It seemed like he was waiting for your reaction.

"Oh."

Now he seemed offended. "That's it?"

"Well, you do resemble him. Taller and more… brooding, sure, but yeah I can believe that."

"You believe way too easily."

"His wandering eye and penis were no secret to anyone who knew him." Though when you were younger, he seemed insistent on preventing his men from conversing with you about his many affairs. Was it because he thought you were an impressionable young lady who should be shielded from the scumminess of men? He often acted like a father instead of your sponsor. You still remember how, after you prevented Dayoung Oh's murder and befriended Jinrang, Gapryong "jokingly" told the new King of Busan that you were too busy to be in a relationship.

You shook your head at the memory. "Anyway, it's no surprise that he has illegitemate kids."

Gitae huffed. He was… pouting?

"What?"

"Nothing. Come, the food will be here soon." He offered you his hand and you let him pull you to your feet.

Now that you've calmed down, you noticed his hair was down, and he was only wearing a bathrobe.

"You showered," you pointed out stupidly.

"It was your request, right? Since I smelled so awful that you almost vomited."

"I can tell you're expecting me to refute that, but you're right on the money. I can't stand the smell of nicotine and smoke."

"I'm not going to quit," he said coldly.

"Huh? Sure…?" It's not like you asked him to. If it's only one night, you can deal with the smell. If you were drunk, it would certainly help. "By the way, what's for dinner?"

Dinner was Korean fried chicken served with kimchi, musaeng-chae, white rice and ice-cold beer.[7]

You knew you were drooling but…

"Aren't you going to eat?" Gitae asked when he noticed your hesitation.

"Um…" You covered your rumbling stomach. "I kinda have an idea of what we're going to do but I just need confirmation before I decide if I'm going to eat."

Gitae's chopsticks paused mid-air.

He looked at you.

He then put on a smile that reminded you of DG. "Tell me, what do you think is going to happen tonight?"

"Are you really going to make me say it?" What a prick. "I'm not eating this if we're going to sleep together." Fried chicken and fermented food aren't ideal right before… certain strenuous activities.

He put down his chopsticks and covered his mouth. "Pfft."

You clenched your fists over your lap. I'm gonna kill him. I swear to God, when I get on my knees, I'm going to bite it off and watch him bleed to death.

"Don't worry, mi vida. You can eat as much as you want tonight. We're not going to have sex."

"???"

"You look disappointed."

"Baffled is more like it." You were a little disappointed, but only because you haven't had been fucked in so long, not that dickhead over here needed to know that. "If we're not having sex then what exactly are we going to do?"

"Eat first—"

"No." Time to put your foot down. If you weren't getting your orgasm tonight, then what was the point? "Tell me why I'm here, Gitae."

"So you're finally dropping the honorifics."

You got up from the chair. "I'm leaving."

"What makes you think I'll let you?"

You glared at him.

"I have my men stationed right outside this room and there are more on each floor of this building."

"…so what are you going to do?" you asked in a voice that was neither afraid nor angry, tilting your chin upward. "Are you going to tie me down and torture me? Or are you going to sell my organs to the highest bidder?"

"I've thought about it before, but you don't seem to be afraid of death, huh? I wonder if it's because it's literally your job to delay the inevitable."

You stayed silent and Gitae continued, "Even when we first met, you were very combative, but you treated my threats like a minor inconvenience. Will you keep up that tough girl act when I have you chained to this room until I get bored?"

"Are you sure you can handle it?" With blank eyes, you asked, "Can you handle the consequences of hurting me?"

Gun would walk through hell to find you, and he would move the Earth and Sun to get revenge on anybody who hurt you. Knowing Goo, he would be right beside your brother, cheerfully chopping down anyone in their way. And DG, you still don't get him, but you doubt he'll be happy to have someone mess with his plaything.

You and Gitae stared each other down before he chuckled. "I'm only teasing you. Sit down and eat, preciosa. I promise you that no one will hurt you here."

"You have a nasty sense of humor."

"You can't blame me. I wanted to see it again—your pissed off expression is cute, like an angry pussy cat."

"Ugh." You picked up your chopsticks. "Well? What are we doing after this?"

"Let's play cards."

"…cards?"

"Uh-huh."

"As in… poker?"

"It doesn't have to be poker, or even cards, frankly. I have some board games here too."

"I see…"

His eyes widened briefly like a lizard's, and he cocked his head to the side. "You don't like it? We can watch a movie."

"I don't mind playing, but why?"

"Back in Tijuana, you told me that you were lonely, especially since you didn't have friends to celebrate your birthday with you—"

Jesus Christ

"—so I figured, let's be friends."

"Did I have a stroke midway through your explanation? What's with that jump in logic?"

"It's not that big a jump. You see, I'm a lonely guy myself."

"Huh…"

"You said it yourself that you're not interested in a serious romantic relationship, and you seem disgusted whenever I bring up having sex again. I'm not interested in forcing a woman into my bed, but I do want you in my life."

"So you intend to keep me in your life as a friend?"

"Yes." He smirked. "Unless you decide that's not enough for you, of course."

"You want us to be friends?"

"Yes."

What's happening right now? Are you seriously being friendzoned by this sex addict? What even is your life?

Ah. Whatever.

You snatched the beer from its coaster, chugged it down and slammed it back on the table. "Fuck it. Okay. Let's be friends, Kim."

"You sure you don't want another beer?" Gitae asked while the housekeepers put away the dishes.

"I'm sure."

"How about a cocktail?"

"I'll just have some tea." When you drink, things get porn-y. Your guts desperately craved to be rearranged so you knew that if you didn't stop the booze now, you may end up jumping Gitae Kim's bones. You didn't need him lording that over you. "By the way, can you please put on some clothes?"

"Are you afraid you'll lose control and attack me?"

You heard a stifled giggle behind you and you glared at him.

Once the maids left, Gitae rose to his feet. "Follow me, you can choose the board game you want."

He led you inside what you assumed was his bedroom. Unlike the living room and kitchen, you found traces of Gitae Kim in here.

"Let me change first." He then disappeared into the ensuite bathroom.

His beloved leather jacket hung over a chair. His favorite striped red shirt was folded neatly on the foot of the king-sized bed, right next to an acoustic guitar. On the writing desk stood an empty bottle of whiskey and a glass; there was also a faded picture of a brownish red horse, and a Ziploc bag with crumpled Mexican bills and coins—they looked like the 68 Pesos you left him that night.

Chuckling, you opened a drawer, but it only contained hotel stationery.

You opened the other drawer and found a flat rectangular box without a lid, displaying a necklace. It had a thin, gold chain with a single, heart-shaped pearl pendant. Simple but opulent. It looked vintage, too.

You felt Gitae standing right behind you.

"Maybe a raccoon instead of a cat is a better comparison for you."

"I wasn't going to steal anything."

"I didn't say anything."

You turned around and saw him in lounge pants and a white wife beater. He had combed back his hair again.

He glanced down at the drawer. "Do you want it?"

"Well, I'd be lying if I said I don't want one."

"It was supposed to be a bridal gift, or so I've been told."

"You know, in some cultures, gifting pearls at a wedding is bad luck because they resemble tears."

"If you want it, you should take it. Life's too short not to take what we want," he advised, gazing at you from the corner of his eyes.

"Why, so I can inherit the misfortune?"

"I didn't take you to be the superstitious type."

Considering that you were living proof of souls and different realities, it would be odder if you weren't superstitious. "I don't believe in tempting fate, especially since God keeps sending me weird men. Now, where are those board games?"

He laughed and guided you to the walk-in closet. He mentioned having "some" board games, but one side of the closet had shelves with only games, and every single one looked brand new.

He didn't buy this stuff just for you, did he? If so then you suddenly felt guilty, which was silly considering his messed up way of establishing friendship.

"Mi vida?"

"Oh, I'm just surprised. You must really love board games, huh."

"No. I've never played a board game in my life," he stated, in a bored, matter-of-fact tone, like stating that grass is green.

You were then reminded of Samuel and Gun. Of the little boys they used to be, not murderers or criminals, but simply children who didn't receive an ounce of love when they should have had it all.

In the webcomic and surely in this world's history, Gitae was a shameless, remorseless sinner, but at some point, even he was just a little boy who wanted his father's affection.

That thought shot through your heart. This is how bad boys get to girls—

Damn you, maternal instincts!

"Let's play Monopoly. It's a classic! I'll go find it."

You scanned the shelves until you caught sight of a drawer that was slightly ajar. It wasn't on the same side as the board games but with Gitae's clothes.

You crouched down, attempting to close it completely, but then a still-sealed Monopoly box appeared in front of you.

"It was on the top shelf," Gitae explained. "It's this one, right?"

Forgetting the drawer completely, you beamed. "Yup."

He offered you his hand and pulled you to your feet.

"It looks complicated but I promise you, it's not. Don't worry, I'll hold back since you're a newbie."

***

"Are you fucking cheating!?" You slammed your hands on the coffee table.

Gitae turned to the stacks of cash on his side. "I don't think so."

"Why do I keep ending up in jail? And how are you always getting the expensive properties?"

"I honestly don't know."

You scratched your scalp. "Right, right. Sure."

Gitae observed your frustrated expression. He heard somewhere before that the best medical professionals are aggressive and competitive, they're the kind of people you would want fighting by your side.

How adorable.

Once again, Isu Jo's advice was spot on—

"Boss, I don't want to overstep, but maybe you shouldn't rush things."

"I'm not rushing. We've already had sex, remember? I just need to remind her how fun that night was."

"…"

"Speak."

"Um… I'm not saying that you two didn't have fun, but maybe—maybe she didn't… enjoy it on the same level that you did."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Based on my investigation, she's always kept her distance from co-workers, but apparently, she has a notorious reputation. Some people even used unsavory terms to describe her."

"Such as?"

"…such as 'slut' or 'whore'—!" Isu flinched when the glass in Gitae's hand exploded.

Whiskey dripped down his fingers. "Go on."

"She's currently well-respected and well-loved at Jae-Won High School, but according to the students and staff, she is often seen with different men."

"So you're saying that she's moved on from me?"

"…"

Gitae sighed and wiped his hand on his pant leg. "What should I do?"

"How about befriending her first?"

Friends, huh.

Gitae Kim hasn't had a real friend since he was a brat playing in the streets. The friendships he had as an adult were transactional, all business.

"Hey—hey, Gitae."

"Yes, mi vida?"

"I want a different game."

"All right, let's go choose another."

"No, we're playing cards this time. Pusoy Dos!"[8]

"I've never heard of that one before."

"A Filipino nurse taught me—not to brag but I kicked her ass."

"Maybe she felt sorry for you."

"Wha—"

"I'll go get the cards."

He stepped inside his walk-in closet and approached the drawer you almost touched. He would have been in trouble if you saw what was inside.

All five drawers in this cabinet contained nothing but condoms.

Shaking his head, he closed it and then went to find the cards.

Friendship with a woman felt like a sick joke, or a faraway dream.

"I used to collect trash and dumpster dive before Gapryong-nim helped me."

Interviewing others is one thing. Gitae wanted to hear the details of your life from you.

So for now, he'll play along. Hopefully, you will fall for him before you realize how much he wants to paint that frustrated face with his cum.

[1] -ssi: a polite and neutral Korean honorific, similar to the English Ms./Mr./Mrs. It's less formal than "-nim."

[2] 1 Billion KRW = around 40 million PHP = 663,000 USD

[3] Estupendo. Spanish interjection for "Great!" or "That's great!"

[4] Pictured above: Isu Jo. He is one of Gitae Kim's subordinates.

[5] Princesa. Spanish: "princess"

[6] Samantha Jones: a main character from Sex and the City. She's the most sexually open out of the four main girls. Blanche Devereaux: a main character from The Golden Girls. She is also the most sexually open out of the four main girls.

[7] Kimchi: Korean. Salted and fermented vegetables. Musaeng-chae: Korean radish salad.

[8] Pusoy Dos: A Filipino card game. I forgot the rules HAHAHA but my groupmates and I used to play it in the waiting room during practical exams.

taglist: @sm3156, @placid-plastic, @mousetrapss, @yin-yun, @ixchelhernandez4, @janeisnotonline, @cocooola, @ficrepostblog, @peachmangoe, @saltyeli, @pauxf013, @sugarrushbell, @sleepingzzzzz, @eyeless-kun, @sh0jun, @kitty-chan33, @elizaliza159, @noxus123, @linasxoxo, @luckyangelballoon, @misshyori, @rosehoneycomb, @sparrowwithaquill, @karinasari, @tronnily, @cherryeden, @chrimsonkitty, @olympianknightwing, @asmaraloca, @vmkl, @akire-slayzy, @mappleppi, @sirairi, @zoros-earring, @jhsluvv, @sirenetheblogger, @xcucumbers, @asharrasand

If you want to be part of the taglist, please leave a comment on the masterlist so I don't lose track. Thank you for reading!

Disclaimer: The images used are screencaptures from Ep. 586, 602, 555, 547 & 497 - Lookism, Webtoon.

My Baby Brother is the Strongest Character Masterlist

“A couple of guys took me by surprise on my way home from the golf competition.”

“Really? You? They took you by surprise? I thought you were invincible.”

“Despite my charming good looks and many, many, many talents, I am not Superman. I am very much vincible.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Can I please be invited inside now?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But it’s dark and cold and who knows who else is waiting for me out there?”

You almost snarked back, something about him just avoiding his own house, but remembered that James’ mood plummeted whenever his home life was brought up. 

With another sigh, you stepped aside and James smiled. 

After telling him to properly put away his shoes in a neat, 90 degree angle beside yours, you gestured for him to sit at the dining room table.

“So,” you said, dabbing Betadine on his cheek (somehow the only injury he had despite getting attacked by “three large guys,” according to him), “golf?”

“It’s pretty boring.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not…yeah, okay, it does sound boring.”

He chuckled. 

“How did it go?”

“I won.”

“Wow.”

“You suck at acting surprised.”

“My surprise is fake, but I am still very much impressed. Congratulations on another win.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It is certainly not nothing.” You caught his gaze. “You beat the rest of Korea’s youth, you bested snooty kids from those elite schools, humiliated them, and that is a great accomplishment.”

He laughed. “You are quite the sadist.” 

“I’m just competitive.”

“Do you play golf, noona?”

“I don’t even have time to play Tetris on my phone.”

“Do you play any sport?”

“Well, I walk a lot—stop laughing—I’m serious. Stamina is important in my line of work.”

“I can walk with you if you want, though I do prefer to jog.”

“Walking is a solitary activity.”

“It feels like everything you do outside your job is a solitary activity.”

You gave him a look, faking offense. “Are you calling me a loser?”

“I’m just saying—I’ve never seen you eat with the other nurses.”

“So what? I’ve never seen you eat with your classmates.”

“Yeah, but that’s my choice.”

“Same here.”

“I’d rather eat with you.”

You opened your container of cartoon-printed bandages. “Preference?”

“Surprise me.”

“I hate when people say that.” You chose a pink one with poodles. “Have you eaten yet?”

“No, I went straight here from the competition.”

Huh. You could’ve sworn the contest was held at a school ten hours from here. Maybe you were misremembering things again.

You smoothed out the bandage. “Done. You should be more careful next time.”

“I’ll tell that to my attackers during the reunion.”

You laughed and went to collect the flyers on your fridge, then you put them on the table. “Choose one place, pick two dishes and a drink—no alcohol. Don’t you dare say ‘surprise me.’”

“What for?”

You put away the first aid kid and washed your hands. “We need to celebrate your victory, and celebrations require sustenance.” 

“But I’m always victorious.”

“Just shut up and choose. I need an excuse to pig out.”

James eyed the various delivery menus.

He ran his hand through his hair, grateful that you were occupied at the sink lest you saw his blushing face.  

He touched the bandage, trying to relive the feeling of your fingers on his skin. It seems that he was right; letting that thug injure him was the correct thing to do. Suddenly, he couldn’t help but feel guilty for sending him and his entire class to the hospital.

…maybe next time he’ll let them break his arm. 

“James? Why’re you laughing? Do you need a CT scan too?”

“No, just thought of something funny.”

Maybe next time, you’ll hand-feed him grapes.

You loved shopping. Or at least the idea of it. Your digital shopping cart was at 99+ capacity, filled with random stuff that you never intended to buy, but enjoy fantasizing about. One of your little joys in life was to peruse the store displays in the mall. It was fascinating how instant it was to choose what you wanted when you were just window shopping, but then when it came time to buy something, you drew a blank.

Or maybe men are just hard to buy for. 

You scowled at a mannequin dressed in a plain white t-shirt and black slacks.

You should’ve brought Goo Kim with you. According to canon, he and Gun shared clothes, he was the perfect companion for gift shopping. You almost invited him, actually, but by some miracle he hasn’t found out that you were related to Gun. You didn’t even know if he knew that you had a brother. But if you did ask for his help, he would definitely ask for a name, then the tiny Goo gremlins in his brain will piece everything together and…something in your stomach warned you that the result wouldn’t be pretty. The discovery was imminent, but it was better to delay the inevitable. 

Then someone breathed into your ear, “Are you lost, miss?"

“Jesus Christ!” You inhaled, hand rubbing circles over your chest, trying to calm your hammering heart. 

James Lee, no, Diego fucking Kang raised his hand to his mouth. His laugh was clear as a bell. “Fancy seeing you here, noona.” He wore a white sweater that made his pink curls pop. The fluorescent light, which was nothing but unflattering to you, seemed to bend and form a halo around him. Everyone else in the store must have thought that an angel had appeared. 

You were quite tired of angels, however, so you seized him by the collar, pulling him down to your height. “You sonuvabitch! Your stunt just took three years off my life!”

“I can’t help it. You were standing there, looking so focused and cute. It made me want to pull a little prank.” 

“It’s a miracle I haven’t punched you yet.”

“I welcome any touch, as long as it’s from you.”

That disgusting line was your wake up call and you let him go. You made a show of sanitizing your hands. “Were you following me?”

“I’m hurt. I already promised you that I’d stop and I stopped.”

You narrowed your eyes. You didn’t know if it counted as stalking, but a few years ago, James spent a scary amount of time following you around. He stood outside the hospital so many times, the staff basically knew him and in-patients of all ages would give him candy or flowers. When you got up in the middle of the night to drink water or pee, you’d catch him outside the window. Staring. He only stopped when you moved to Mexico. You never gave him your email or mobile phone number so you lost contact. 

Actually, thinking back at it now, he stopped when you “promised” to become his wife. You cringed at the memory.

“Noona, why are you here?”

You looked at him incredulously. “It’s a mall. We’re in a store, I’m here to shop.” 

“No,” he said, voice dripping with cold affability as his finger trailed over the mannequin’s sleeve, “Why are you at the men’s clothing section?”

“None of your business.”

He cupped your cheek and when his dark eyes met yours, the ice melted off him, replaced with a somber acceptance. “I guess I deserve it for leaving you alone.” His hand moved from your cheek to your left arm, leaving feathery touches as it moved downward. 

“What are you—”

“It’s okay, noona. I understand. As long as you come home to me—” he teased your ring finger  “—you can have all the fun you want, I won’t stop you.”

“???”

“But as for me,” he mumbled, lifting your finger to his lips, “I will only ever have eyes for you.”

“You…” You reached for his face and—

“Didn’t work, huh?” He chuckled as you pulled on his cheeks. 

“You’re going to kill me with those dumb lines.”

“I’m only repeating what those pretty boys in your games say.”

“Don’t compare yourself to them.”

“Because I’m better?”

“Because you’re real, and I’m sorry but real men can’t compare to my 2D boys.”

“Aw.”

“Wait.” You stepped back and eyed him from head to toe.

“You’re going to make me blush.”

“You’re quite a fancy boy, aren’t you?”

“Those are not the words I would use, but I guess a lot of old-schoolers think my style is flamboyant.” 

“Perfect! You can help me find a gift for my brother.”

“I don’t know, very few guys can pull off my—” he froze. “Brother?”

Oops. 

Well, que sera sera. “Yeah…I told you about him.”

“I was under the impression that you weren’t speaking to each other.”

You pretended to examine the mannequin’s pants.

You didn’t like to talk about Gun when you were younger, so you let others formulate their own version of your backstory. 

“Things change. Will you help me or not?”

His shoulders sagged. 

Then, he gave you a smile of relief and slipped on his baseball cap. “Sure thing.”

Diego or “DG” was so happy to help that he didn’t even bother to ask what your brother’s name was. He said that “formal introductions should be reserved after he has become your ideal man.” 

Whatever.

“So we’ve narrowed down the choices to a black turtleneck sweater, a very…loud shirt, and lounge pants. And each one’s gonna cost me an arm and a leg.”

“I did offer to pay—”

“That defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?”

He raised his arms in surrender. 

You kept glancing back from the sweater to the shirt to the pants and back. Your neck was beginning to hurt.

“Can you try them on? I feel like it’d be easier to make a decision that way.”

“I don’t mind, but I should warn you, very few men have a body like mine so you might be buying with false expectations.”

“...it’s nice to know that all that fame hasn’t gone to your head.” 

He winked and went inside the fitting room.

You waited outside when familiar voices reached your ear. 

“Look at these price tags, are you sure about this, Jay?”

“Shut up, he offered to pay. It’d be rude to say no.”

“But Zack—”

DG opened his door. “We have a problem—”

“Shh!” You shoved him back inside the stall and whispered, “My students are out there.”

“So?”

“I don’t want them to know I’m out here with you.” You didn’t need a bunch of teachers and students barging into the infirmary and begging you for DG’s number.

When you calmed down, you realized that your hands were touching bare skin.

Your eyes moved downward on their own and you quirked your brow. “Why are you half-naked?”

“All the clothes we picked out were one size too small. That’s what I was about to tell you before you decided to seduce me.”

“Ugh.”

“I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve had this exact dream. Other times it was in the back of my car, or in a closet—”

“I get the picture.”

You pulled away but he grabbed your left wrist and nuzzled into your palm. “I can’t wait for our wedding night.”

“You’re going to keep waiting until the end of time.”

“Finally free.” You twisted your waist as you and DG stepped onto the escalator. “Next time, I’ll just look at his wishlist and order online. By the way, what’re you doing here? I didn’t see you buy anything.”

“I’m here undercover. My boss owns this mall and I do random inspections.”

“Ah.”

“Not even going to question that?”

You can’t possibly tell him that you weren’t surprised. You didn’t know the details but you already knew that Charles treated DG like a dog. 

“If you’re undercover, I don’t want to pry,” you reasoned.

“So thoughtful.”

“Aren’t I?”

You two ended up in the food court and he followed you towards a smoothie bar.

“Well. Go on,” you motioned for him.

“What?”

“You did help me, so this is the least I can do.” Today’s purchase left a giant hole in your pocket so you could only buy him a beverage. 

“You don’t have to do that. I was happy to help. Besides, this is my future brother-in—”

“And,” you interrupted him, “I heard you just produced a new album. This doubles as a celebratory feast.”

He paused.

You beamed. “Congratulations, DG.”

He looked away, tipping his cap until you couldn’t see his face. He mumbled, “...that’s not fair.”

"What was that? It better not be 'surprise me,' because I will get you tap water."

He laughed, airy and light.

***

“—and that’s it for today’s meeting.” Charles Choi crossed his legs. “Any questions?”

He looked around his team.

Goo, his bodyguard, sat in a corner, fiddling with his game console. 

Gun had been sneaking glances at his phone since the beginning. 

And DG had this uncharacteristic glazed look in his eye while he stared at his smoothie. The man kept running his finger up and down the side of the cup like he was caressing a lover.

Charles stomped his cane and everyone looked at him. “Is the meeting distracting you?”

“I think everything’s clear now, dad,” Crystal quietly offered.

“Is it?”

Everyone else only nodded.

“Fine. Meeting adjourned.”

When DG picked up his smoothie, Goo cocked his head. “Dude, that thing’s been empty since you got here. There’s a trashcan by the door, y’know.”

“I know.” He then proceeded to suck on the straw. Like Goo Kim said, there was no smoothie left in the cup and DG’s air-slurping echoed throughout the room.

“Does he look…chipper to you?” Crystal asked Gun, who only shrugged, uninterested in anything else but his phone.

“Let’s go. I got someplace else to go and I still have to drive you back to that damn mountain.”

“What’s your problem?”

But Gun only walked faster.

Crystal scoffed and accidentally met Goo’s eyes. 

He shook his head. “Men.”

DG didn’t take his lips off the straw even when he got inside the car. 

“Good evening, sir,” his driver greeted. 

He nodded and leaned back in his seat, finger drawing coy lines over the empty smoothie cup.

“I should go now, I don’t wanna miss my train.”

“I’ll throw those away, noona, you go on ahead.”

He closed his eyes and continued sucking. 

a/n: I must confess, I was never attracted to DG until I discovered he was James and could smile like that. There's just something about hot guys with crazy smiles... also, Goo? Never change

edit: to clarify, DG took our smoothie cup.

taglist: @sm3156, @placid-plastic, @yin-yun, @ixchelhernandez4, @janeisnotonline, @cocooola, @ficrepostblog, @peachmangoe, @saltyeli

Disclaimer: The images used does not belong to me. They were lifted from Ep. 308 & 367 - Lookism, Webtoon.

ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

Your shift today ended at five a.m.

By the time you reached the lobby, dawn was already breaking, and your self-proclaimed bodyguard was currently chatting up the security guard.

When Gapryong noticed you, his smile deepened.

“Noona~”

You bowed your head at the security guard in greeting. The elderly man was all smiles. He was holding a fresh cup of coffee, no doubt from your escort. Gapryong’s charisma was not limited to his lady friends. He had a way of beguiling everyone of every age, from all walks of life. 

“Thanks for lunch,” you said. Gapryong knew how to cook (thanks to you) but didn’t like the preparation and cleanup involved, so he avoided the task as much as possible, opting to buy ready-made meals instead. The fact that he went out of his way to make rice balls for you meant the world. 

“No problem.” He then raised his bare hand, expectantly.

Gapryong insisted on carrying everything for you. He would even carry a single cup noodle during your midnight snack runs. 

You gave him your purse and lunch bag. You have long given up on fighting him over this topic.

“How was work today? Did anyone hit on you? Did they find out who’s been stealing toilet paper?” he asked as you two ambled down the street. Naturally, Gapryong stayed on the side adjacent to the road.

“It was hell, no and no. Although, the mood was off today.”

“Why? Did someone sleep with someone else’s wife?”

You playfully slapped his arm. “There are rumors about us getting laid off.”

“Yeah, I’ve been hearing a lot about that everywhere lately. I found one of our neighbors crying because he was terminated.”

“They told me it has something to do with the Yamazaki.”

“Oh, those guys.” He let out a deep sigh. “If their name reached your ears then we’re in trouble.”

“I feel like I’ve been insulted just now.”

“It’s not an insult. I think it’s adorable that you’re always in your own little world.”

You pinched his waist and he gasped like it actually hurt.

“Focus,” you said. “The name sounds Japanese. What do you know about them?”

“Nothing good. From what I’ve been told, the Yamazaki is this bigshot yakuza[4] clan. They’re building a statue in the town square in honor of their leader or something.”

“Wait, what?” You stopped walking. “That’s what they’re building over there?” You’ve passed by that statue-in-the-making a few times, but the only thing you noticed was the cute dog. You didn’t think it was going to be something as ridiculous as foreign gang leaders. 

“The yakuza, huh…” You dipped your head. You didn’t have memories about your life prior to waking up on the beach. You didn’t speak Korean but were fluent in a few other languages, you didn’t know your age but you could perform basic arithmetic, and you didn’t know your own name but you knew that the term “yakuza” was bad news.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Gapryong suddenly snuggled to your side like a service dog.

“Don’t sweat it, noona,” he said, “no matter what happens, I’ll protect you and everyone else.”

If it were some other brat telling you this, you would have called him crazy and a little cheesy, but the pit in your stomach vanished the moment you saw that confident smile.

You huffed.

“Don’t believe me?”

“No,” you replied, grabbing his wrist and pulling him forward. “I believe in you, guppy, so don’t you dare disappoint me.”

Gapryong stood frozen as he watched the sunlight fall on your smiling face. When was the last time noona smiled so softly like that?

“Noona, I—”

“?”

“I’m going to cook all your meals from now on.”

“Huh? I appreciate it, but—”

“Also, promise me that you won’t make that face when I’m not around. I don’t want you attracting another rival! Especially not at work! I can’t follow you inside the building!”

“You’re exaggerating. Besides, I…”

“What is it?”

I want to quit. You breathed in and grinned.

“...it’s nothing. Let’s go.”

You knew that he didn’t believe you, but he smartly didn’t pry and you two continued walking.

When you arrived at your sub-basement, you were so exhausted you laid eagle spread on the floor.

“Noona, you should at least sleep in your bed.” 

“No…too far, plus I’m too tired to shower.”

“Then change—aaand she’s passed out.” Gapryong shook his head then went to get you a pillow and some blankets.

While you slept, he washed your water bottle and containers and then checked your fridge.

“Beer. Figures.” He sighed. He normally didn’t have to worry about your meals because either Minseon or him would keep you fed, but lately, the world’s been going to shit so even he was too busy to keep your fridge and pantry stocked. 

Your snores filled in the air and he chuckled, “Being a husband sure is hard.”

As he was counting the bills on his wallet, someone knocked at the door.

A rosy-faced Minseon Kang stood there with a giant bag full of what Gapryong assumed to be food. “Good morning—oh. It’s you.” 

“Good morning to you too, Minseon. Perfect timing, I was about to do a grocery run but it seems you got that covered.”

“I was worried about unnie.”

“Understandable. Come in.”

“Stop talking like you live here, it’s gross.”

“Ouch. Don’t get jealous just ‘cause noona and I have been together longer than you’ve known her.”

“I’m going to slap you one of these days.”

“Thank you for the warning.”

The two of them worked together to put away the food. When they were done, Minseon remembered something and then fished inside her purse.

“I was going to hand these over to Baekho but since you’re here—” she slammed several envelopes onto Gaoryong’s chest “—can you please tell your girlfriends that our restaurant isn’t a post office?”

“Whoa, are these love letters? Haven’t gotten those in a while.” 

Minseon huffed. “Don’t get cocky. I’m pretty sure at least one of those things has some curse inside.”

“Stop it, you know that black magic stuff freaks me out.”

“Do you even open these things?”

“Of course, I do. A lady went out of her way to prepare the paper and took precious time out of her day to write; I gotta at least read her message.” 

“That’s surprising. Are you going to write back?”

“Nah, I just talk things out with them.” 

“Huh?”

“Being popular is hard, y’know?”—

“Ugh”

—“Besides, once they start sending me letters, that’s when I need to draw the line.” Gapryong’s biggest regret was giving away his first kiss to someone from school instead of you, but it’s not like he can take it back. He flirts, he mingles, he makes out sometimes but he already promised the rest of his firsts to you. 

Minseon watched him silently scan the letters. “I really don’t understand you.”

“They do say mysterious men are more fun~”

“I didn’t think you were someone who’d take love letters seriously.”

He fingered the envelopes, recalling your disappointed face when you found a thirteen-year-old Gapryong Kim callously ripping apart a love letter from one of his classmates. “You don’t have to reciprocate, but you should at least read it. I’m sure it took a lot of courage to bare her heart like that.” It stung that you didn’t get possessive or jealous (and it still hurts how unaffected you are by his so-called womanizing), but he was a brat who didn’t know any better. You were right. Even if he had no plans of having a serious relationship with those girls, he should at least let them know before they fall for him completely.

“But maaan, these are a lot. Minseon, can you just read ‘em and then summarize for me?”

“...tsk.”

They then heard rustling from the living room.

You were now sitting up.

“Oh, sorry,” Gapryong said, handing you a cup of warm water, “did we wake you?”

“Unnie, you should move to the bed.”

You slurped the water as your exhausted eyes rolled over from Minseon to Gapryong. 

“Mm…” You put down the cup. “You two would make a great couple.”

Gapryong’s face turned white and Minseon’s green. 

They broke out into a chorus of sounds: 

“How could you say that?” “That joke’s not funny!”

“Not even if you paid me!” “Not even if he was the last person on Earth!”

“No!” “Never!”

You blinked slowly. “If you say so.” 

You fell back on the floor. “Kids, it’s my day off so I wanna sleep in. Keep the flirting to a minimum, ‘kay?” Having said your piece, you passed out again.

“Nee-chan—”

“—don’t slam the door—”

“—Shintaro and I came to play!” Shingen stopped and looked around. “She’s not here…”

The veranda door slid open, revealing their sister. Your yukata was soaked from the waist down. Your arms were wrapped around what the twins thought was a dark, smelly towel until it yipped and barked.

“Easy, easy,” you cooed, rocking the wet furry thing.

“Nee-sama, is that… a dog?”

“Yup, she’s just a baby, isn’t she cute?”

“She smells awful.”

Shingen stepped closer. “She looks nothing like father’s dogs. What breed is she?”

“I don’t know.” You walked over to the heater you borrowed from the kitchen and put the shaking puppy in front of it. 

“So it’s a mongrel?”

“She’s not one specific breed.” You grabbed a clean towel from your closet and began patting her dry. “What should we call her?”

“You’re gonna keep it?”

“We’re going to keep her,” you clarified, “so start thinking up names that go well with Yamazaki.”

A month passed since the layoff rumors, but no one was fired. However, an unofficial, city-wide curfew was set in place.

The statue in the town square was almost done. More tattooed thugs from Japan roamed the streets in addition to those in uniform. Even you, who spent your days off sleeping instead of hanging out with friends, could tell that a storm was coming.

But, as every adult can attest, even if the world ends tomorrow, you still gotta work.

After your shift at the call center, you sleep for five hours then go to the restaurant. 

Your customer service abilities were decent, and it helped that your regulars preferred to do most of the talking. Working at the restaurant was a thousand times easier than at the call center—

“I said I want a different waitress!

—but even that was about to change.

“Sir, I’m sorry if I offended you in some way,” you began, speaking clearly but humbly, “if you tell me the problem then I will do my best to fix it.”

“Tsk. Do I have to say it in Japanese for you to understand?”

“Wha—”

“I. Said. I. Want. A. Different. Waitress!”

“...”

The man clicked his tongue again and mumbled, “Damn jjokbari.”[5]

You forced yourself to recover from the shock and bowed. “I understand. Someone else will be with you shortly.”

You went over to the counter where the food for table 2 was waiting. Minseon’s dad gave you a look. “Want me to kick him out?”

“It’s all right.” You grabbed the trays and acted like nothing happened. It’s been a while since you’ve heard that slur.

Judging by the way the other customers gazed at you, you had a feeling you’ll be hearing it a lot more. 

[1] jajangmyeon: black bean sauce noodles

[2] jumeok-bap: rice balls

[3] oi muchim: spicy cucumber salad

[4] yakuza: I can't remember if I already gave the definition but TLDR, it's the Japanese mafia.

[5] jjokbari: Korean slur used against Japanese citizens or people with Japanese ancestry

taglist: @sm3156, @placid-plastic, @yin-yun, @ixchelhernandez4, @janeisnotonline, @cocooola, @ficrepostblog, @peachmangoe, @saltyeli, @pauxf013, @sugarrushbell, @sleepingzzzzz, @eyeless-kun, @sh0jun, @kitty-chan33, @elizaliza159, @noxus123, @linasxoxo, @luckyangelballoon, @misshyori, @rosehoneycomb, @sparrowwithaquill, @karinasari, @tronnily, @cherryeden, @chrimsonkitty, @olympianknightwing, @asmaraloca, @vmkl, @akire-slayzy, @mappleppi, @sirairi, @zoros-earring, @jhsluvv

If you want to be part of the taglist, please leave a comment on the masterlist so I don't lose track. Thank you for reading!

Disclaimer: The images used are screencaptures of Ep. 466, 525 & 359 - Lookism, Webtoon.

Next Episode: Warmth

Main Series Title/AU: My Baby Brother is the Strongest Character

“It’s a bento.”[1]

“It’s a homemade bento.” 

“So your eyes aren’t completely useless. Congrats.”

“Since when did you carry around Pompompurin lunchboxes?”

When Gun didn’t say anything, Goo snatched off the lid, yelling “Sneak attack!”

He paused. He blinked. He took off his glasses, wiped them with his sleeve, then slipped them on again. He gawked at the poorly made tamago and unevenly cut octopus sausages.[2] Gun Park was a perfectionist, he even cut his apple slices into bunnies, but this was one sad display. 

“Did you make this?”

Gun didn’t answer.

“I knew it! It’s her, isn’t it? That, that woman of yours that you refuse to name. She has you wearing poor people’s clothes and carrying a Sanrio lunchbox—which is kinda cute, I will admit—but you’re an adult man for God’s sake! You’ve been emasculated!”

Gun retrieved the lunchbox lid from him. 

“And look at your hair—you don’t even comb it back anymore. I’ve been trying to get you to let it down for years and suddenly she’s got you doing it?”

“Go order your noodles or I’ll eat without you.”

“I don’t believe this, you’re really going to eat this crap? I’ve seen convenience store waste that looked tastier.”

“Joongoo…get lost before I kill you.”

“Heh, you’re going to kill me? At least I finally got you to look at me and away from your phone.”

“You have to be the neediest woman I know.”

“Say that again, I dare you. I’m going to cut out your tongue.”

“Try me. I’m gonna break your hands for touching my lunch.”

“You fucking simp!”

“You nosy bitch!”

***

You received an SOS message from Goo pleading with you to come to his hotel suite, a five-star hotel with gargantuan crystal chandeliers in the lobby and a receptionist that gave you the stink eye. At least this place didn’t need a key card for the elevator.

You found his room and rang the bell.

When the door opened, you were welcomed by a blood-soaked towel. “Angel!” He spoke through the towel, voice nasally.

You held his chin by instinct. A few superficial cuts, a black eye and a nose that required resetting. There were very few people alive who could injure Goo this badly. “You really should go to the ER for this.”

“But you smell nice and you don’t charge.” Beat. “You don’t charge, right?”

“No, I don’t. I’m using the school’s infirmary supply. We got tons of troublemakers and no one ever bothers to check the inventory.”

“You are bad.”

“Yup, I’m a criminal.”

Goo ushered you inside and you had him sit next to the dining table. Aside from his nose and a sprained wrist, he sustained no other major injuries, so you cleaned him up and gave him ice from the fridge.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered as you threw away the used cotton balls. “Otherwise I would’ve ignored your message completely. I’m a busy woman, you know.”

“With what, studying?”

“Falling asleep during a very serious TV marathon.”

“Drama?”

“Murder mystery.”

He raised an eyebrow. 

“I don’t like drama, it ruins my day.”

“But murder doesn’t?”

You shrugged.

“What’s the show called?”

“It’s American, I don’t think you’d like it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“It’s esoteric.”

“Quit gatekeeping and tell me.”

“I just don’t want to recommend a show I love and then have you bitch about how boring or nonsensical it is.” You placed a sachet of pills on the table and picked up your first aid kit. “The medicine is for the pain. See ya.”

“Hey, wait.” He grabbed your kit and you almost fell backward.

You blinked and he was towering over you, holding you by the waist. “Whoops.” 

“Damn. That would’ve been the perfect opportunity for a lawsuit.”

“Too bad for you. But I don’t want you to go home empty-handed, let’s order room service.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“Don’t give me that look. I know how to treat my friends.” He handed you the leatherbound booklet containing the menu and other amenities being offered. “So what do you say?”

“Well, as long as I don’t have to pay…” He didn’t need to bribe you. You could spend hours observing Goo Kim’s expressions.

“Awesome!” 

***

After devouring the lobster meal, you two sat on the sofa and watched Murder, She Wrote.

Goo was surprised that he actually enjoyed watching an old lady solve crime in the 90s.

“I knew it! I knew that guest star was going to be the killer.”

“...”

“Angel?”

He looked away from the screen, only to find your head lolling to the side. He slipped a pillow under your temple before he muted the TV. 

“I can’t believe she passed out just like that. Lol. She’s lucky I’m a gentleman.” He leaned against the backrest. “Hm… she’s prettier than I remember..."

Your phone started ringing and he swiped it off the coffee table. The caller ID said “Kiddo.” Probably one of the students. He turned back to you. The circles around your eyes told him to set the device to vibrate. 

He grabbed a pillow and stared at you until he fell asleep. 

“Hey!” Goo woke up on the floor. 

At some point you moved from sitting against the backrest to lying facedown on the sofa cushions. 

“Kicked out of my own couch and not even by my girlfriend, this is a new low.” He rubbed his elbow. “And what is that annoying buzzing?”

It was your phone, still on vibrate. The battery had been reduced to a quarter of its life and there were 198 text messages plus 89 missed calls. 

“Can’t this guy take a hint?” 

He glanced over to you, then glared at the phone. It was ten p.m. Maybe he should tell this brat off. A gentleman shouldn’t answer a lady’s phone, but you did seem to struggle with setting boundaries. After all, your patience for Goo himself seemed limitless, a feat that could put the likes of Mother Theresa to shame. 

So maybe you needed this intervention.

That’s it! That’s right.

“Perfect reasoning as always, Goo,” he huffed with pride and answered the next call. 

“Hey, kid, don’t you know what time it is? You can’t keep calling the school nurse like this, you’ll get her into trouble! I know she’s hot but you gotta fish in your own pond, y’know? Stick to your age group.” He hung up without waiting for a reply.

The doorbell rang, which puzzled him because he could’ve sworn he hit the “do not disturb” button.

As he went to check, the phone vibrated again.

“Enough already, brat! I didn’t want to say this because we were trying to keep it quiet, but she’s taken, okay? I’m her boyfriend so why don’t you go…” 

There was no maid behind the door.

“Gun? Did you forget something?”

Gun Park held his own phone to his ear. His black eyes shot from left to right, stopping at the sofa.

“If you’re here to apologize—”

“Joongoo Kim, get ready.” Gun took off his shades. “I’m going to bury you.”

***

You were back in Japan, leaning over the pond outside your room.  

“Hi Nugget,” you greeted the goldfish. The fish didn’t speak, of course, only swam around hypnotically, each flick of his tail left wisps of glitter in the water. You could watch him all day.

But then, a blonde fox wearing human glasses hopped into your yard. It made brief eye contact with you before a giant black dog with angry scars arrived, barking furiously.

The fox threw back his head, laughing, and then leapt around the garden. The dog chased after it. You watched with awe, it was like being in a Tom and Jerry skit. You applauded as they tore through the bushes and flowers, but then the fox dove into the pond and swallowed your fish—

“Nugget, no…! Ah?” You jerked awake. For a moment, you were lost, then your memories caught up with you. 

You went to Goo’s hotel room to help with his injuries, then you ate lobster, then you watched TV together, then fell asleep—

“What the hell is your problem, man!?” Goo shouted and you hurriedly sat up. 

A dining room chair was in pieces, there was an ugly collection of fist-shaped indentations on the walls, broken glass was everywhere—

Your heart sank into your stomach. Gun’s back faced you as he approached Goo. His whole body was tense and you could see the veins threatening to pop down his arms. 

You figured out what happened instantly. 

“Is this because of lunch?” Goo reached for the floor lamp. “I told you I didn’t mean to knock it over. I even offered to buy you something better!” 

Gun took a step forward but you slid between them, holding up your arms sideways. 

You heard Goo click his tongue. “Move outta the way, angel!”

You sprang on your toes and wrapped your arms around your brother. “I’m okay,” you whispered.

Gun’s whole body flinched, but he was still wound up so you rubbed gentle circles on his back. “I’m not hurt, so please breathe and calm down.”

He closed his eyes and inhaled.

“That’s the way—just breathe for me.” 

He laid his forehead on your shoulder.

“I’m okay. I’m right here,” you cooed. 

He raised his head and cupped your face with both hands. He regarded you with wide and worried eyes, looking like a lost child.

“I’m okay, see?” You sucked in your cheeks, emulating a fish. “Even Nugget would agree.”

The faintest sound escaped him and he pulled you in for another hug.

“I was so worried…”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“I thought you—”

“I’m okay, Gun. I promise.”

You squeezed him gently, reminding him that you were very much alive. Gun exhaled and he was back to normal. 

“I’d hate to interrupt such a touching moment but—”

You both looked behind you. Goo was holding the lamp like a spear.

“—what the fuck was that?!”

“Don’t swear at her, you rude fuck.”

“HUH?!”

“And don’t point that lamp at her.”

“You can’t possibly be angry at me, right? You son of a gun, you know how much damage—look at this place!”

You pulled away from Gun’s embrace and clasped your hands together. “Let’s all calm down first.”

“All right, ‘fess up, lady. It’s you, isn’t it? Gun’s elusive, balls-stealing, bento-making woman—”

“I told you to stop pointing at her.”

“Or what?”

“Wait.” You raised your arm between them. “Stop it, Gun. You’re in the wrong here.”

He glared at Goo.

“Gun.”

He stepped back and mumbled, “I’m sorry, nee-san.”

“Well, this is partially my fault so don’t worry. We’ll fix it together.”

“Wait,wait,wait,wait,wait. Back up—‘nee-san’? As in big sister? You’re Gun’s sister? The one who died? That sister?”

You could only smile.

“Holy shit.”

Gun tugged on your sleeve. “How do you know this bag of turd?”

You sighed and then motioned for them to sit around the coffee table as you searched for the complimentary teabags. 

While the water boiled, you explained the circumstances that led to your friendship with Goo and why you ended up in his hotel suite—it almost led to another fight, but the clicking of the electric kettle stopped them.

“This is what I’m talking about, nee-san, you are too nice. I told you that one of these days you were gonna attract a weirdo. Now you got the biggest freak of them all.”

“You hear the way he talks to me, angel? He’s supposed to be my friend.”

“Don’t call her angel.”

“You wouldn’t let me call her onee-chan—”

“Don’t call her anything. Don’t even look in her direction. Don’t even think of her. After tonight, you’re dead to us.”

“Excuse me? Your memory can’t be that bad. We all just agreed that I’m the victim here so you have no right to be mad.”

“We didn’t agree to shit.”

“You’re paying for these damages—”

“The hell I am—”

“We’ll split it three ways,” you cut in. 

“What?” They turned to you in unison. 

“I shouldn’t have fallen asleep and worried my brother, that was my mistake, and Gun should have never attacked you in the first place. But Goo shouldn’t have answered my calls without permission.”

“But—”

“We’re all going to pay for it.” Your teacup made a nice clink as you set it down. “Okay?” 

“...okay.”

[1] Bento: Japanese. Any meal, although most commonly lunch, that is homemade and packed for work/school/special occasion.

[2] Tamago (Tamagoyaki): Japanese. It's a rolled omelette. Tako ("octopus") sausages: Japanese. This term refers to sausages that have been cut to look like, yup, octopuses.

a/n: I love Goo and Gun's dynamic. It's something straight out of a sitcom. I was debating whether to go with "Bert and Ernie," "Chandler and Joey," "Troy and Abed" or "Kramer and Seinfeld." Ultimately, I figured Bert and Ernie was the most recognizable. Anyway, just a heads up: I'm going to have to slow down with the updates from now on so I won't be able to post every day.

taglist: @sm3156, @placid-plastic, @yin-yun, @ixchelhernandez4, @janeisnotonline, @cocooola, @ficrepostblog, @peachmangoe, @saltyeli

Disclaimer: The images used do not belong to writerclaire. They were lifted from Ep. 107 & 521 - Lookism, Webtoon.

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MAIN MASTERLIST

DG pulled you into a lover’s embrace and said, “Let’s make it official now, noona.”

“Enough already. I’m tired of your jokes.” You tried to get away and like a fly struggling in the maw of a Venus flytrap, you only made it worse. 

His arms squeezed the breath out of your lungs and DG put his chin on the top of your head. “If only I were born a little earlier,” he whispered.

He finally loosened his grip, but didn’t let go. 

DG took a step back and met your gaze. “Noona has the morals of a normal person so I told myself I’ll be patient, but I’ve overestimated my patience… or perhaps I underestimated my greed.”

It was hard to look away from those silver eyes of his.

“I know that you met me when I was just a brat. Maybe I wouldn’t be so impatient if you still saw me as that thug who followed you around. But I’m not blind.”

He cupped one side of your face. 

“I don’t know if you’re doing it on purpose or maybe you’re just dense…it’s pretty cruel of you to give me hope only to keep rejecting me.”

Now that pissed you off. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He smiled. “We’re both adults, noona.”

He then whispered directly to your ear, “So how long will you deny us what we both want?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking abou—”

He was kissing you now. He tasted as sweet as mangoes.

But Diego kissing you was no more surprising than you kissing him back.

You almost lost yourself in his hold if not for the noise of incoming employees, causing you to panic and shove him off.

The staff passed by, greeting you both, but you stayed quiet. You kept your eyes on the floor.

Once they were gone, DG stared at you. “I’m sorry for kissing you so suddenly. This isn’t how I wanted it to happen, but am I wrong to think that you liked it too?”

“I…” You hung your head, too ashamed and confused to face him. “I can’t do this right now.”

“I understand.”

He let you go. “Please enjoy the rest of the morning. I’ll leave first. I assume your brother will pick you up?”

He shouldn’t have to leave. This was his free trip.

“Ja—Diego, wait.”

“Don’t worry about me.” He grabbed your hand and raised it to his lips. “I visit places like this all the time.”

You didn’t see Diego during the remaining hours at the spa.

No more than ten minutes in the sauna, you left, unable to relax as the heat only exacerbated your emotions.

There was no trace of DG when you returned to your suite. 

You felt too guilty to relax so you packed up your things and while waiting for the elevator, you looked up any nearby convenience stores where you could wait for Gun.

Ding.

You stepped inside, focused on your phone.

“...seven-minute walk away…” you muttered. 

“What is?”

“Oh, pardon me, I didn’t mean to—” you finally looked up and your mood soured “—talk aloud…”

Gitae Kim stood before you. Fully dressed this time. There were no traces of lipstick and perfume on him, which made you mildly happy for some reason. (You knew the reason, but you were too proud to admit it.)

“Leaving already?” he asked, glancing at your luggage.

“What gave me away?” The lame quip left your mouth before you could stop it, so you coughed and added, “I figured I should leave early to beat the afternoon traffic.”

“...”

“...”

You didn’t mind dead air, if anything, you preferred it over small talk, but you couldn’t stand the way he looked at you. It wasn’t a gross, shameless leering that many men would subject you to (though there was definitely a hint of lust in his eyes that he didn’t bother to hide)—he stared at you like he was trying to figure you out. Like he had a thousand questions at the back of his throat.

“...”

“...”

Gitae Kim: (⊙ _ ⊙ )

You: (ᴗ_ ᴗ  )

Gitae Kim: (⊙ _ ⊙ )

You: (ᴗ_ ᴗ ᵕ)

You glared at the operating panel. Why’s this damn elevator taking so fricking long?

As if hearing you curse at it, the elevator jittered and shook you off balance.

Gitae caught you by the arms as the elevator stopped moving completely.

You glanced up at the ceiling or whatever its elevator equivalent is called; you kept your poker face but in your head you were raging at the heavens with one word: WHY?

“Hey.”

“Huh?” You remembered that you weren’t the only captive right now.

Gitae was still holding you.

You gave him a nod. “Thanks.”

“...”

You tried to get up to hit the emergency button, but his hands were immovable. “Is something wrong?” you asked.

“Why do you keep avoiding me?”

What do you think, you father-killing gangster?! Plus, who wants to eat breakfast time with a fling? “Avoiding is…” You paused and reconsidered your word choice. Gitae Kim (or any of the Kim men for that matter) was not known for his brains, but he wasn’t an idiot. You were both adults so there was no reason to skirt around the issue like a lovesick highschooler.

You explained: “I didn’t mean to offend you, but as I have said before, neither of us are looking for anything serious. I don’t see the point in making things awkward by forcing us to act friendly when we can just be strangers. Two passing ships in the night, as they say.”

“...”

He was surprisingly untalkative today.

Then he replied, “That still doesn’t explain why you’re avoiding me.”

You take it back. Gitae Kim is an idiot. 

Keeping your calm, you continued, “I doubt you’re interested in a platonic relationship so there’s really no reason for us to spend time together.”

His hands move from your arms to your waist. “Maybe we don’t want a serious relationship, but why should that stop us from having fun?”

Ah, yes. Friends with benefits (minus the friendship). You’ve had similar arrangements in the past, with classmates and co-workers; it was safer than flings with complete strangers. Most of them worked out, a few ended disastrously. But that’s a story for another day.

You scanned Gitae’s form. Strong jaw, big nose. Wide shoulders, perfect for grabbing. A rock-hard torso that tapered down to a slender waist. Thick thighs that were begging to be straddled…

You shook your head. “Nope. Sorry. I think one night is enough for me.” You already rode this dragon and you reminded yourself that Gitae Kim looked more delicious than he tasted. Size wasn’t everything. Actually, it was difficult to have fun when he was so needlessly huge.

But… you stole a glimpse of the bulge straining under his jeans. 

You gulped.

…with enough preparation and sufficient training, he would be perfect…

Calloused fingers snuck under your blouse, dancing over the clasp of your bra. 

Gitae was smirking. “Your thoughts are written all over your face.”

His warm hands on your bare skin was the wake up call you needed.

You smacked his arms away. “Are you insane? You realize we’re in an elevator, don’t you? There’s a camera and—shit, I forgot to hit the button!” 

“Don’t worry, I did it while you were ogling my thighs.”

“I wasn’t ogling you, asshole—!”

He cupped your face with one hand. God, he had large hands.

“W-what?” 

He gave you a small smile. “You’re finally looking at me.”

“???”

“Who is James Lee to you?”

You thought for a moment before answering, “My fiancé.”

“...”

“If I tell you that, would you believe me?”

He looked at you and then he scoffed, “Ha. Not one bit.”

“Good, because he’s not. Anyway, our…I guess our ‘relationship’ is a long story, one that would bore you to tears so if you want to hear about it, go pester DG.” You glared at him even harder. “Now, would you kindly let me go? Your hand smells like potato chips.”

He freed you just as the elevator started up again.

You grabbed your mirror and a wet wipe from your purse.

Gitae Kim quietly watched you dab your face. 

You stared at his reflection, and, after a few more seconds of silence, found yourself speaking again, “You really do look a lot like him.”

That stone face cracked at the mention of his father.

You looked over your shoulder and met his wide eyes. “Though you’re definitely taller.”

The elevator slowed and you faced forward again.

Gitae chuckled.

The door slid open.

You pulled on your luggage, but Gitae snatched it from you. 

“What are you doing?”

“You’re going to the convenience store, right? I’ll walk you there. I need a smoke.”

It felt like he added the last part when he saw you about to say no. Maybe he did, but you didn’t care.

Against your better judgment, you thanked him.

After ten minutes of the manager bowing and apologizing for the incident with the elevator (it would have been much longer if not for Gitae making it clear that he wanted to leave), she let you and Gitae go with a complementary fruit basket and a buttload of gift cards for any beauty product associated with their spa. 

When you arrived at the 7-Eleven, Gitae stayed seated with you inside.

“I thought you were gonna smoke.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Fine. Stay here and watch my stuff.”

You disappeared and then returned with two cups of coffee. “Here.”

“...”

“Do you want cream or sugar?” 

“...it feels odd seeing you be nice to me for real.”

You guess your acting during breakfast wasn’t as stellar as you thought. “Shut up and drink.”

“Ah. Much better.”

The veins in your forehead throbbed. 

Gitae watched you take a sip before he asked, “So, why sixty-eight pesos?”[1]

“You remember that, huh?”

“Kind of hard to forget. I figured a night with me should at least be ten million US dollars.”

“I’m almost jealous of your confidence.” It was almost as megalomaniac-sized as DG’s. 

“Well?”

You took another sip and said, “I was one peso short.”

“Are...are you serious?”

You shook your head. “It was my rating for the night. Six point eight.”

“Out of ten?”

You didn’t answer.

He snorted. “You’re a funny girl.”

“I know.”

He started his coffee, which was sweeter than he usually took. But he saw your satisfied expression and kept drinking.

After a whole minute of undisturbed peace, he asked, in a hesitant tone that felt unbefitting of the Gitae Kim, “What was he like? I mean, with you?”

“He was annoying.”

“Pfft.” 

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. I just…I didn’t expect someone like you to describe him like that.”

“Someone like what, exactly?”

He looked up in thought and then back at you. “Someone normal. Didn’t you say he was your benefactor?”

“Yeah. He forge—I mean, he helped me settle here, in South Korea. I didn’t know the language, I had no money, no connections. Gapryong Kim paid for my schooling and found me a home.”

“Doesn’t sound like a man you would call ‘annoying.’”

You shrugged. “It’s not like he did all those things out of the goodness of his heart. It was payment.”

“Payment?”

“I found one of his men on the streets. There was a gang fight and he was badly injured.”

“What, did you perform CPR on him or something?”

“...yeah, something like that.” It was an emergency thoracostomy.[2] The man had a collapsed lung. But a thoracostomy was an advanced medical procedure that you learned from your first life, one reserved for doctors and something a child had no business performing. 

“Anyway,” you said, changing the subject, “when Gapryong-nim asked how he could repay me, I asked for his help. I told him he couldn’t put a price on a person’s life and a decade of raising me was nothing.”

Gitae let out a sound of amusement. 

“I was busy studying so I rarely saw him, but when I did he kept feeding me and he always sent me new clothes.”

“...how is that annoying?” Your listener sounded almost jealous.

Well, it wasn’t like you didn’t understand. You must have seemed like a complete brat right now.

“It was annoying because it felt like he was trying to use me. Not in a gross way—” you reassured Gitae, who looked ready to punch the table “—he was a man desperately repenting.[5] Whenever he looked at me, I could tell that he didn’t see me, but someone else. It’s weird. I don’t know how else to put it. I guess it’s kinda confusing, huh?”

“A little.”

“Right?” You laughed. “He was annoying to be around, and he was a notorious womanizer despite being married. But…I didn’t dislike him. That’s why I wish I could’ve been by his side when he died.”

You raised the paper cup to your lips, pretending not to notice how his breath hitched. “Maybe I could’ve done something to save him.”

“No.”

You turned to Gitae. He was staring down his coffee. 

“I don’t think you could have done anything,” he said.

You tried to lighten the mood so you rolled your eyes. “Gee, thanks.” You tried to sound insulted. “Did you forget that I saved your ass once?”

“I meant—”

The Imperial March blasted from your phone.

“What the hell is that?”

You checked the caller ID. “It’s my brother.” DG must have messed with your ringtone again.

“Hello?”

“Nee-san, I’m outside the store. Where are you?”

“I see your car. Hold on, I’ll be right out.” You hung up.

Gitae was already on his feet, holding your luggage and the basket. “I’ll walk you there.”

“You really don’t have to.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You expect me to believe you can carry these things?”

He didn’t wait for your reply. He went straight outside.

You died before Lookism ended so you have no clue who would win between Gitae Kim and your brother. But you were sure that it wouldn’t be quick and bloodless.

“Wait!”

You chased after him, but it was too late. 

Your brother stood a few feet from the entrance and Gitae already stepped out the door.

“Gun!” You stepped between them. “Why did you get out of the car?”

“I…was going to grab your luggage…” His black eyes fell on the bag—your bag, which Gitae was carrying.

These two battle freaks were sizing each other up.

“Aw, that’s sweet of you! We should probably go—”

“Gitae Kim,” Gun whispered, “why the hell are you with my sister?”

“Oh, Gun, don’t be rude, sweetie.” You hurried to his side and hooked your arm around his. He wouldn’t throw a punch while you were hugging him.

…right?

“Y-you wouldn’t believe what happened back in the resort. Gitae and I got stuck in an elevator. How hilarious is that?”

Gun’s muscles tightened and you coughed. 

In retrospect, mentioning how you were alone with Gitae Kim wasn’t the brightest move.

“That is hilarious. Lol.” Goo appeared beside you, hands in his pockets and looking like he stumbled into a goldmine.

“Goo?”

“Sup, angel. Looks like you… ‘made a new friend,’ amirite, Gun?” He then cackled. There was no way they didn’t know Gitae’s reputation with women.

He was instigating your brother.

“Gun, I do have work tomorrow so can we—”

Gitae Kim, who was staying still this whole time, finally stepped forward.

Gun gently pushed you backward, preparing to fight.

But instead of throwing a punch, Gitae merely pushed the basket and bag towards him.

“You heard her, she has work tomorrow. Better get moving.”

Taking this chance, you grabbed the basket and shoved it into Goo’s arms, then you took your back and held Gun’s hand.

“Thank you, Mister Kim.” You did your best to sound as formal and distant as possible.

You then dragged your brother back to the car.

Once Gun settled in the driver’s seat, you could finally breathe.

Goo observed your reflection on the rearview mirror. “This has to be the first time I’ve seen anyone more stressed than ever after a free spa trip.”

“...just…” You closed your eyes. “Let’s just go home.”

—thankfully, neither Gun nor Goo asked you about DG or Gitae Kim. 

You expected your brother to react childishly to the whole ordeal, so you didn’t mind his pouting. Frankly, you were grateful for any reaction that didn’t involve violence (living in this world has severely impacted your standards for how men should express themselves). However, Goo was  strangely silent during the car ride and he didn’t stay the night like he usually did.

You rolled onto your belly, your cheek hitting the linen. 

You really wished the weekend had a third day so you could decompress.

“...maybe I should call in sick today.”

“That’s an idea.”

“What the—!?”

Goo Kim was standing over the cot, beaming. 

“Hope you don’t mind, I picked your lock.” He thumbed at the door. “That’s a lie. I just sliced that thing, you know, that metal thingy that keeps it locked.”[3]

“You’re paying for that.”

“Relax, just tell the principal that someone broke in—”

“You did”

“—since this place has insurance. But enough boring talk, let’s go play hooky.”

“Ta-da!” Goo removed your blindfold. 

After some back and forth, you let yourself be dragged to Goo Kim’s “hideout.” It was what you expected Gun’s condo to look like: sleek lines, leather and wood furniture, the latest toys, loads of junk food and alcohol; the ultimate bachelor pad.

“Wow.”

“Is she gorgeous or is she gorgeous?”

“I’d whistle if I could.”

Goo boasted that it was exclusive to “his people,” which included you now, apparently.

You two started with a friendly game of scram.[4]

You won the first four rounds, though you had a feeling Goo kept losing on purpose. He slipped, tripped and missed way too many times for it to just be “bad luck.” 

You didn’t mind; winning was winning, after all. 

And it was…sweet.

You two agreed on a break and Goo ordered buffalo wings, nachos and iced tea.

“See, isn’t this better than rotting at home with that doberman breathing down your neck every two seconds?”

“Gun’s not that bad.” You offered him some wet wipes.

“You need to be firmer with that brother of yours. Don’t you feel bad for your future boyfriend slash husband? I’m pretty sure Gun’s going to live with you guys until the day he dies.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m really not.” Goo cleaned his hands, already feeling sorry for the future version of you. 

He imagined what Gun’s face would look like when you announce that you were dating, and then what he would look like when you declare your engagement. For a split second, Goo snickered at the thought of your future husband peeing himself in front of Gun. 

A normal guy should be the perfect match for you. You lived in the light while your brother, Goo and everyone else in their circle belonged in the shadows. But at the same time, Goo couldn’t help but think that an ordinary bastard had no right to stand beside you.

You were a civilian. You couldn’t fight. You were Gun Park’s Achilles heel. 

But you were smart, funny and mature, and undeniably cute. You deserved a hella lot more than some Plain Jane salaryman, who would never appreciate you.

“Goo?” You were waving your hand in front of him. “Earth to Goo.”

“Huh?”

“You said you wanted to play a videogame after darts.  I don’t like racing so can we do a fighting game?”

He stared at your face. 

“Hello, space cadet?”

“Hm? Oh. Uh, yeah. Sure.”

“...is it really okay for me to be here?”

“I wouldn’t have brought you here if it wasn’t.”

“Cool.” You got up and walked over to his videogame collection. “Fascinating, so you have them separated by genre then arranged alphabetically…”

You were rambling—praising his organizing system. 

For once, he was pleased to hear someone talk more than he was. You didn’t have a melodious or even notable voice; like many parts of you, your voice was adorably average, but Goo found himself loving every word that left your mouth.

You returned with Tekken 6. 

Goo clapped. “Excellent choice.”

“An oldie but goodie.”

After three rounds, you sighed and paused the game. “Goo, you don’t have to let me win.”

“You don’t like winning?”

“It was fun the first few times but now it just feels insulting. I’m fine with you kicking my butt, I’m not a sore loser like my brother.”

He snorted. “He says the same thing about you whenever we play anything. Of course, I never let him win.” Gun sucked at fighting games, which was something Goo liked to remind him. 

“I’m flattered,” you said flatly. “I’m changing my character.”

“Dibs on Lili.”

“You’re already Lili.”

“Well, dibs anyway. I don’t want us playing the same character.”

“Why not?”

“House rules.” One that he made up on the spot.

You laughed and he was happy with his decision.

“Okay, okay. I’ll get Jin.”

A karate practitioner. You originally chose Kazuya, Jin's father and another karate master. Did you choose these men because they reminded you of your brother? If so then…well, maybe Gun wasn’t the only strange one in this relationship.

But then, he remembered that Jin was an illegitimate child. 

“Hey…” Goo drawled. 

You hummed in reply, too focused on the screen.

“Uh…” For the first time in forever, Goo Kim wasn’t sure how to bring up a topic. 

“What is it?”

“How do you know that guy?”

“A name would narrow it down, thanks.”

He coughed, “Gitae Kim.”

Your hands twitched but you kept playing. “He’s just some guy I know.”

“He seemed to like you enough. You guys friends?”

“We’re not that close.” You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. “But you seem to know him.”

“I guess you can say we work in the same field.”

He watched you closely and you seemed to accept his explanation. 

“But,” he said, pausing the game, “you shouldn’t hang around him. That guy’s a loose cannon.”

“Worse than you?”

“No one’s worse than me.” He winked.

You laughed again, the sound tickling his chest. 

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

You put a hand over his.

He looked up; your exhausted features have softened into a small, lovely smile. 

“I mean it, Goo. Thank you.”

“...don’t mention it.”

You let go. “One more?”

“Yeah. Actually, wait.” He put down his controller. “Let me turn on the AC.”

He didn’t wait for you to respond as he shot up to his feet.

He clenched and unclenched his hand. 

It was uncomfortably warm today.

Diego Kang’s personal assistant was getting worried.

Her boss had been locked in his study ever since he returned early from the spa. That was thirty-one hours ago.

Diego was the ideal employer. He paid more than the industry average, he had a strict policy on schedules so zero overtime, and he never raised his voice. Plus, DG always kept his composure. If there was a moment where he felt irritated, the world would have no way of knowing. 

Unfortunately, DG was in a peculiar mood today. 

He didn’t greet his driver or his PA, he refused to pick up his phone, and he hasn’t left his study in hours.

His assistant steeled herself and knocked on the door. “S-sir? I brought you something to eat. It’s grilled salmon. Y…your manager wanted me to t-t-tell you to stop ignoring his calls.”

No answer.

“Um, if you don’t like salmon, then a-at least have some water and I-I’ll get you something else.”

The PA let out a sigh of relief when she heard movement—his footsteps, followed by the door unlocking.

However, her smile froze when she saw the heavy circles around DG’s eyes.

“Thanks for bringing me dinner. Leave it anywhere.”

“It’s actually breakfast but you’re welcome! I will…!?”

She still hasn’t gotten used to the life of the ultra-rich. Even for a penthouse, the study was bigger than what she expected. But that wasn’t what caught her off guard—

Dozens of tiny velvet boxes littered the space. 

Rings. 

DG wore jewelry, so this shouldn’t be a baffling revelation, except these weren’t any old accessories. These were glittering, sparkling, bankruptcy-inducing engagement rings. 

The PA recognized household names like Cartier and Tiffany, but there were also brands reserved only for the one percent like Boucheron and Harry Winston. There must have been at least three rings per brand. Any one of these rings cost more than what the PA could ever hope to save in a lifetime.

“Leave it anywhere,” DG repeated from his seat. He said it so casually, like there weren’t diamonds and sapphires on every surface of his office.

DG didn’t seem concerned that she might steal one of the rings (not that she would). He was bent over his desk, scribbling—no, drawing.

Thinking “what the hey,” his assistant brought the tray over to his side and she discretely (well, she tried) snuck a peek over his shoulder.

“Sir…”

“Thank you. You can take the rest of the night off.”

She was about to inform him that it was morning and the manager would be pissed, but DG’s tone left no room for protest, so the PA bowed and left.

As she got onto the elevator, she thought about DG’s waste bin. It overflowed with crumpled pieces of paper. She wondered if they contained the same thing he was furiously sketching on his desk: wedding bands.

Gitae Kim blew out a stream of smoke.

He hadn’t heard of Gun Park until today, and based on his instincts, he could tell that guy was strong. He wanted to fight him right then and there, but when he saw your face as you struggled to separate the two of them, Gitae let it go.

He glanced at the report his men sent him.

“She’s a yakuza princess but she hates violence, that’s gotta be troublesome.” 

As he mumbled these words, your voice—a memory from years ago—echoed in his head: “She kept saying that she failed and blamed me for being born as a girl.”[6]

He sighed and put down the folder.

You weren’t a princess.

He recalled Gun Park’s tranquil fury, Goo Kim’s silent jealousy, and best of all, James Lee’s blatant possessiveness. Gitae grinned and raised his pipe, thinking of the day when he could steal away his Cinderella.

[1] See "Like Water for Chocolate" TLDR: After their one-night stand together, Noona left 68 MXN on the nightstand.

[2] Thoracostomy: an invasive medical procedure wherein a tube is inserted in the patient's pleural space to drain fluid or air.

[3] He's referring to the latch bolt.

[4] Scram is a two-player dart game. During one round, one player is the "stopper" and the other is the "scorer." The goal for the latter is to score as many points as possible before the stopper claims all the numbers.

[5] For new/confused readers, in this series, Noona was originally reborn during the Pre-Generation Era. She died and was reborn again, but she doesn't remember her time with Gapryong Kim and the Yamazakis. Here is a brief summary of the timelines.

[6] See "If I Love You, Beware" TLDR: During pillow talk, Noona told Gitae that her mother (in this world) killed herself because she wanted a son.

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If you want to be part of the taglist, please leave a comment on the masterlist so I don't lose track. Thank you for reading!

Disclaimer: The images used are screencaptures of Ep. 478, 557, 481 & 519 - Lookism, Webtoon.

My Baby Brother is the Strongest Character Masterlist