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thankskenpenders · 7 months ago

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The Lara-Su Chronicles: Beginnings review

The day has finally come. Many, understandably, thought we'd never get here. Maybe we shouldn't have gotten here. We've been through so much. Lawsuits, reboots, redesigns, unreleased NFTs, empty legal threats over the fact that movie Knuckles has a dad, an attempt to license out Scourge the Hedgehog to fans that immediately got canceled (in both meanings of the term), and many, MANY idiotic Twitter controversies. But now, here we are.

Thirteen years after first announcing it in the middle of his legal battles with Archie and Sega that changed the American Sonic comics forever, former writer Ken Penders has released the first part of his new series: The Lara-Su Chronicles.

Yes. I had to buy the book. I had to take one for the team. Look at the fucking URL of this blog, a blog I've been using to talk about the American Sonic comics for nearly a decade while the specter of this book loomed in the distance. The one time I've actually been paid to write an article about anything in any professional capacity, it was an article about the Penders lawsuits. I'm cited on his Wikipedia page. There was no way I was going to skip reviewing this, and there was no guarantee that scans would ever turn up online given the incredibly small audience for this trash. (Only 166 people preordered this, and even that number feels way higher than it should be.) No, I had to preorder it to ensure I could get a copy and cover it for the blog... even if that meant my name would be forever immortalized in the list of "supporters" in the back of the book. These are the sacrifices I must make as a woman who stumbled ass backwards into being an amateur Archie Sonic historian.

So, what exactly is in this book? How much of it is new? How bad is it? How did we even get here in the first place? How can this exist without Sega pursuing legal action? What happens next? And, most importantly... why are there multiple depictions of an Archie Sonic character breastfeeding in this book?

I'm here to answer those questions as best I can, and in agonizing detail.

First, for those just tuning in to this decades-long saga or those who maybe don't know the full story, here's a refresher on the background info.

"What the hell is this?"

The Lara-Su Chronicles is Ken Penders' long-dreaded long-awaited continuation of his 1994-2006 run on Archie Sonic, ignoring everything written after he left by other writers like Ian Flynn. In particular, it picks up from the cliffhanger ending of the 2003-2004 arc "Mobius: 25 Years Later," which was set in what Ken considers the definitive canonical future of the series. It stars Knuckles' daughter from that future era, Lara-Su, among other new and returning characters. The project was first announced near the start of Ken's legal battle with Archie in 2011, and he's been posting WIP previews online for about a decade. Now, after all this time, a Lara-Su Chronicles book finally exists.

We'll get to the actual contents of that book in a bit.

"He can do that without getting in trouble with Sega?"

Believe it or not, yes, he can.

Thanks to the outcome of Archie Comics' woefully mismanaged lawsuits against Ken (yes, they sued him after he started filing for copyrights, not the other way around), he now has full legal ownership of every story he wrote for Archie Sonic and every character he created for the series. This was explicitly granted to him in the terms of the settlement between him and Archie (acting on behalf of Sega). He can even reprint his old Sonic material as-is to his heart's content. The main catch is just that he can't write new stories featuring Sega characters or trademarks, and his new stories also have to be distinct from Sonic at a glance to avoid confusing readers. As such, reprints can't use Sonic iconography on the cover, a few Sega characters (mainly Knuckles) have been renamed and slightly redesigned in the new stories, and the art style has been changed to less closely resemble Sonic. But otherwise, he can do whatever he wants with his own characters.

All of this is because Archie lost the original copy of Ken's work-for-hire contract that signed over the rights to his work. Without that (or any alternative that was considered permissible in court), his comics and characters are the property of their creator by default. Yes, those old comics are full of Sega stuff, but Sega doesn't automatically own the copyright for every drawing of Sonic in existence. And Sega put their stamp of approval all over those comics and let them get sold at retail for decades, even though (in the eyes of the court) there was no legal paperwork granting them ownership of any of it. It's almost like they were unwittingly distributing a fan comic for years and declaring it a fair use of their property, and now there's no takesies backsies. It's a strange and unique copyright situation. Again, they worked all this out in the settlement. And, yes, fans have long speculated that Ken stole and destroyed his own contract to regain the rights to his work, but frankly Archie was so incompetent throughout the lawsuit (it went so bad that they had to fire and replace their lawyers midway through) that I completely buy the idea of them just losing important legal documents.

Also, in case it needs to be spelled out: while Ken's a weirdo, it's ultimately a good thing for creatives everywhere that Archie lost their lawsuit against Ken. We do not want to live in a world where corporations can claim ownership of peoples' work without the contracts to back it up. That would be an incredibly dangerous legal precedent to set. And more comic creators, and artists in general, should own their own work! Corporations are not your friend! They'll delete your work for a tax write-off in a heartbeat! It's just bewildering that this guy, of all people, was the creator who ended up successfully getting his shit back, and that this is what he's doing with it.

"What about his old collaborators? Are they involved? Is he paying them?"

Ken is mostly doing The Lara-Su Chronicles solo, though he has, in fact, talked about compensating the artists involved in any material he's reprinting. The ones who give enough of a shit to get paid for a small scale reprint of something they did 20 years ago, anyway.

On the subject of his collaborators, it's also worth pointing out that Ken's wasn't the only contract that was lost. Most of the early Archie Sonic writers from before Ian Flynn's time seem to be in the same boat as Ken, with the ownership of their stories and characters defaulting back to them. Again, Archie fucked up big time. But like I said, most of them don't really seem to give a shit. For most of them, Sonic was just a random temporary gig they took to pay the bills while Marvel was busy going bankrupt in the '90s, not the thing that defined their entire careers.

The only other Archie Sonic contributor who's tried to do anything on the level of what Ken is doing was writer and editor Scott Fulop. In 2016 he attempted to sue Archie for the unauthorized use of what are now retroactively considered his copyrighted characters and stories, and he even announced a standalone comic about his most famous Sonic character, the recurring villain Mammoth Mogul (sort of a pastiche of DC's Vandal Savage and Marvel's Kingpin, with wizard powers added for spice). However, Fulop lost his lawsuit because he didn't put together a particularly compelling case. Since then he seems to have wiped all traces of his ill-advised Mammoth Mogul comic and his company, Narrative Ark Entertainment, from the internet. For now, this leaves The Lara-Su Chronicles the only project of its kind.

"What about those other Archie Sonic reprints he just announced?"

At the time of writing, Ken is once again claiming that he's trying to get the band back together to reprint all of Archie Sonic, now under the bad new banner "Floating Island Productions: MOBIAN LINE" that I can't imagine he consulted literally anyone else on.

So, like, look. As we've established, Ken can reprint his own stories. And if he can work something out with the other contributors whose contracts were lost, he can print their work, too. But there is no fucking way he's getting his hands on Ian Flynn's run, which Sega undoubtedly holds the copyright for. Even if they don't, Ian needs to maintain a good working relationship with both Sega and IDW if he's to keep his job, so he'd never go for this. Not to mention that Ian and Ken just... don't get along! Ken's whole plan here seems to be predicated on IDW going out of business (a thing he REALLY wants to happen) and freeing up the Sonic comic license, after which he knocks on Sega's door and goes "hey I've still got dirt on you guys," blackmailing them into giving him the Sonic license back so that he can reprint the later comics. Every step of this plan is ludicrous. It's never gonna happen.

He's been saying he wants to reprint the whole series for a few years now, though. This isn't really anything new. And despite his lofty plans that set Sonic Twitter ablaze, he quickly backpedaled. The only specific things in the works right now are a "two-volume omnibus" of all of his Knuckles stories and a collection of artist Scott Shaw's work on the very early Archie Sonic issues, since they're on good terms with each other. I have no idea how Ken plans on packaging these when he can't put any Sega characters or the Freedom Fighters on the covers, but these projects are small enough in scale that there's a decent chance they'll see the light of day. Scott Shaw only did like five issues. But anything beyond that? I'll believe it when I see it.

Or, y'know, this could've all just been a publicity stunt for his new book. I wouldn't put it past him. Let's just focus on the book that actually exists.

"So he finally did it? He made a whole Lara-Su book? It's out? He finished it??"

Yes and no.

The book that's out now is The Lara-Su Chronicles: Beginnings, a prologue for the series of seven graphic novels Ken somehow plans on making, even though it's taken him 13 years to put out literally anything new. I don't know whether or not this counts as book one of seven, because it only features 30 pages of new comics. 30.5 if I'm being generous.

Most of the book is actually just a reprint of his infamous Archie Sonic storyline "Mobius: 25 Years Later", which ran from issue #131 to #144 in 2003-2004. (Again, yes, he can reprint this, he just can't put Sonic on the cover.) Why's it infamous? Well, Ken had been building anticipation for this future era of the series for basically his entire run. We kept seeing King Sonic and Queen Sally from the future. Knuckles' entire backstory hinges on his dad having a vision of this future. Several years before Silver the Hedgehog was created, it was Lara-Su who was Sonic's equivalent to Future Trunks, the cool-looking child of one of the main characters who traveled back in time to try and prevent a dark future. Believe it or not, yes, there was hype for Lara-Su. And then we finally got M25YL, and none of that cool stuff happened. Instead it really ended up being about how unbearably boring the middle aged Sonic, Knuckles, Sally, and co. are in this peaceful future where Robotnik is dead and they're all married with kids, forced into traditional nuclear family gender roles. Lara-Su is present, but she mostly just does generic teen girl stuff and complains about how Knuckles won't let her do anything even though she REALLY wants to be the new Guardian of Angel Island, like, super bad! Come on, dad!!!

In its original printing, this meandering arc ended on an abrupt time travel cliffhanger that Ken was never able to follow up on before he left Archie in 2006. This new printing slightly changes that ending, using the unresolved timey-wimey shenanigans as a convenient excuse to alter the entire timeline. This creates the slightly different world of The Lara-Su Chronicles, where the few relevant Sega-owned characters have been replaced and everyone is ten times uglier.

After this, we finally get two short new stories picking up where M25YL left off: "The Storm," starring Acorn Kingdom super-spy and known creep Geoffrey St. John, and an early release of the first chapter of The Lara-Su Chronicles: Shattered Tomorrows, the first full TLSC graphic novel.

And now that we're all on the same page about what we're looking at, let's actually talk about the book!

The cover

Let's start by beating a dead horse. The cover art: it's still bad! But why is it bad?

The cover is, of course, based on Patrick Spaziante's cover from Archie Sonic #131, the start of the "Mobius: 25 Years Later" arc. (Ken did the layout for that cover, though, so in the eyes of the law he's the original creator who owns that cover.) That cover was, itself, a tribute to the iconic cover of Giant-Size X-Men #1 by Gil Kane and Dave Cockrum, the issue that introduced the version of the team with Wolverine, Storm, Nightcrawler, etc.

Ken seems to have forgotten that the point of both these covers was to hype up the arrival of a new cast of characters. The new guys are supposed to make a dramatic entrance front and center. That's the focal point. Meanwhile, the cover for Beginnings has the old timeline versions of the cast from Archie Sonic dramatically bursting out of a shattered crystal ball, while their new counterparts look on in mild bemusement - if they're even bothering to look at all, since most of the characters here are just copied and pasted from their profile pages. That's just not how you do this particular homage! The point is supposed to be "out with the old, in with the new." And why are they using a crystal ball to view the past? Hell, why are they even using a crystal ball at all? The original arc was presented as a magical vision of the future courtesy of Tails' uncle Merlin (don't ask), but the new story leans all the way into being futuristic sci-fi.

Of course, there is no real artistic intent at play here. The old versions of the characters are placed front and center in the crystal ball simply because Ken traced over Spaziante's original art of Lara-Su and Julie-Su (the only two characters on the Sonic cover he owns) and threw out the rest, ruining the composition in the process. Look at the awkward empty space where Sonic, Sally, and Rotor once were, and the new drawing of The Character Formerly Known As Knuckles who's no longer properly centered between his wife and daughter. Even if Ken can claim ownership of the cover because he did the original layout, this all just feels scummy and lame.

And, yeah, if it needs to be said, the new characters and Ken's new rendering style look like absolute fucking dogshit. Putting new Lara-Su directly next to old Lara-Su does her no favors. The shattered glass effect looks absolutely atrocious. I could go on, but we'll have plenty of time to talk about the art style when we see how bad the stories inside look.

Changes to "Mobius: 25 Years Later"

Overall, 99% of M25YL is presented identically to its original printing. Sonic, Sally, Knuckles, et al. are still present with no changes to their names and no tweaks to the art. Even the original cover for issue #131 is included only a few pages into this book with its Archie, Sonic, and Sega logos still intact and everything. Again, because of the weird copyright situation described above, these preexisting comics can be released without any changes.

There is exactly one bizarre change to the art, though, where a hand drawn shot of Angel Island is replaced with an unfitting photo background and the ugly Floating Island photobash that Ken has been using as his personal logo for decades. I think he only did this as part of a test for his motion comic app that nobody asked for. I don't know why this had to make it into the print version. It's like the book is firing a warning shot for what's to come if you keep reading.

The new content begins on the final page of M25YL. In the original wet fart of a cliffhanger ending, Sonic and co. accidentally alter the timeline with an old time machine of Robotnik's and Lara-Su begins to fade away. Then, after everything goes white, we just cut to the present day heroes going "gee, you ever think about the future?" In this new printing, that last bit has been cut, and the rest of the page has been awkwardly shrunk down so that Ken can fit in a new panel. We now see the hands of an off-screen villain, seemingly named "Override," proclaiming that "the Praetorian" (Knuckles) has messed up the timeline again and that they'll finally get their revenge.

Who is this Override? I have no fucking clue. The new stories in this book make no mention of them. You have to buy the next book to find out.

My confusion over the identity of this villain overlaps with another big problem: name changes. So many names and nouns have been arbitrarily changed in The Lara-Su Chronicles, even ones Ken didn't have to change for copyright reasons, and I only know what half of them are replacing because Ken's been tweeting about this shit for years.

The echidnas are now a totally original alien race called "the Echyd'nya." Even in flashbacks to events from M25YL attempting to mimic the old art style, if it's on a new comic page, they're gonna call themselves "Echyd'nya." Evil echidna faction the Dark Legion is now the "Cyberdark Dominion," hailing from the "Cyberdark Colony." The Brotherhood of Guardians is still the Brotherhood of Guardians, but now the main guardian is called "The Praetorian." Angel Island is still called "The Floating Island," like it was in the older Archie comics, but it's ALSO sometimes called "Avion"? When I read this I wasn't sure if he had randomly renamed Albion, the other echidna city from the Archie comics. But no. Now we have an Albion AND an Avion. Sally is mentioned simply as "Princess Acorn," while Sonic is referenced once as an unnamed "blue-spined Erinaceinae," using the scientific name for hedgehog to make it sound more sci-fi. In an incredibly ballsy move, Ken even mentions Robotnik as "the Insurrectionist Kintobor," retaining his original surname from the Archie comics that's just "Robotnik" backwards. Guess Sega never trademarked that one.

Aside from every name change being a downgrade, this leads to confusion when you're not sure if something is supposed to be new, or if it's just an Archie thing you're supposed to recognize despite having a new name and design. Is "Override" someone I'm supposed to know already? Am I just supposed to have read a fucking tweet from Ken where he said he changed the name of some existing villain to "Override"? The answer is no, but I had to term search his Twitter just to verify this.

Moving on!

New story #1: "The Storm"

If you've been following the WIPs, this is that story about Geoffrey St. John that Ken's been posting previews of for almost a decade. The title page copyright dates it to 2015, and that absurdly long gestation is probably why the art is so inconsistent here. Even the style of speech bubbles and the font change between pages two and three.

This is a problem when there's supposed to be a deliberate and noticeable change in art style here signaling the moment where the time travel stuff alters the timeline, replacing the Archie Sonic world with the Lara-Su Chronicles world. If you don't already know that's what's going on, the idea isn't conveyed clearly at all. It just goes from one hideous art style to a slightly different one with no explanation.

The main problem here is that Ken has hitched his wagon to a franchise about anthropomorphic animals when he can't draw furries to save his life. (Though a bit later in the book we'll also begin to wonder if he can even still draw humans.) He's shifted away from the cartooniness of the original designs and given them more human proportions and facial features, but this just ends up making them look incredibly uncanny and lumpy and gross. With some designs he's trying to lean into more of a Star Trek alien vibe, but then he still insists upon retaining the giant Sonic eyes on most characters even though he has no idea how to make them emote.

The rendering of these godawful designs doesn't do them any favors, either. Ken's going for more of a painterly look now, but it almost seems as though he's shading everything with Photoshop's burn and dodge tools that are designed to darken and lighten select areas of a photo. The result is a muddy, smudgy look that makes it feel like the color layer has been smeared in vaseline. And it only looks worse after coming off of 14 chapters of M25YL that have way more palatable art.

The backgrounds, too, are a complete mess, a jumble of low res jpeg photo elements (sometimes with extremely noticeable pixelation), stock textures, and smooth digital gradients. There's no real sense of place here, and it gives everything a surreal, dreamlike quality when you can't really tell where anything is supposed to take place. This first story is seemingly set in a high-tech stronghold below Castle Acorn called "the Bunker," but it could just as easily be confused for the bridge of a spaceship. This whole story features characters speaking to each other over floating video displays and hologram projectors from three different locations, but without a hologram effect and without a clear sense of where the characters are it often feels like they're just in the same room as each other. Characters will be in one location on one photo background, and then the camera angle changes and they're in a completely different place, because Ken just uses mismatched photos off of the internet. It's been like 25 years since he first tried using photo backgrounds in the Archie comics and he hasn't gotten any better at it.

When I had my boyfriend read the book to see if it made literally any sense to him (it didn't), Anthony said this: "This is the kind of shit I'd see linked on a Second Life world that hasn't been touched since 2004." I think he really hit the nail on the head. Now, there's actually a contrarian part of me that thinks that might theoretically almost be kind of cool, in sort of a messy counterculture way. I love weird indie shit. I was a Homestuck reader! But this isn't a scrappy mixed media zine, or experimental outsider art from someone just messing around with Photoshop, or a loving throwback to weird old internet art, or even something intentionally bizarre and offputting like Xavier: Renegade Angel or a PilotRedSun video or whatever where the fact that it's weird and ugly is part of the humor. This is supposed to be a sincere sci-fi epic drawing on Star Trek and Jack Kirby comics, made by a guy who's been drawing comics professionally since the '80s. This is supposed to look good. This is supposed to compete with mainstream comics that are on sale right now. He thinks any day now IDW's gonna go out of business and Sega will come crawling back to him so that he can stamp the Sonic logo on shit like this. It just doesn't work.

But, okay. It's ugly. We knew it would be ugly. But that ugliness would be much easier to accept if it was in service of an otherwise genuinely good story. So what about the writing? After all this time, how does Ken choose to kick off this new saga? Well, credit where credit's due. "The Storm" feels like a proper continuation of Ken's writing style from M25YL.

Because it's eleven pages of characters standing around and talking while nothing fucking happens.

Here's the synopsis: A dog woman named Brownie, an ensign in the Royal Secret Service fresh out of training and the only character who's almost cute, walks up to Geoffrey to deliver a report. He's immediately suspicious of her, asking who let her in and if she's a spy for Elias (Sally's brother, if you're new here) or Alicia (Sally's mom). The art style suddenly shifts when the timeline is altered, but the scene continues uninterrupted. Geoffrey points a gun at Brownie when she won't say whose spy she is. Geoffrey is distracted by a call and proceeds to have a conversation via a mix of holograms and video screens with Remington (head of Echidnaopolis security), Spectre (Knuckles' great great great great great grandpa, the one with the helmet who always looks evil), and a new scientist character named Dr. Zephyr/Zephur. (The spelling of this character's name changes multiple times throughout the 11-page story, because I guess nine years wasn't enough time to spellcheck this shit.) They say a bunch of made up technobabble nonsense about how it looks like the timeline was just altered and Knuckles and co. seem to be involved. It's complete drivel that I'm not even going to try to make sense of. Everyone decides to investigate further, and the conversation ends. Brownie tells Geoffrey she's his spy, then walks out and implies she's actually Alicia's spy in her inner monologue.

To be continued!!!

Yes, that's it. It's really just a bunch of technobabble where some characters talk about how it seems like the timeline has been fucked with. That's it. The whole time Geoffrey doesn't even get up out of his damn chair, which he's of course sitting in backwards to show how cool he is. It's just 11 pages of Geoffrey sitting in a chair and talking to people and looking uglier than he's ever looked. Nothing happens. Nine years for this.

I'm also struck by how meaningless all of this is to anyone who hasn't read Archie Sonic. The added context from M25YL may help a little, but "The Storm" focuses on characters who weren't in that arc, and the story does very little to introduce who any of them are. Brownie could've been super useful as an inexperienced point of view character who's only meeting the others for the first time here, but instead she's really just a passive observer who's here as part of some kind of 4D chess game between Geoffrey and Alicia, an off-screen character whose motivations in this era of the story are completely unknown to even returning readers. Who are the good guys and bad guys here? What are the conflicts and the stakes of the story moving forward? What do these characters want? Basic questions like this aren't really answered. I can't imagine a new reader being able to make heads or tails of this. Hell, I can't really imagine a returning reader who hasn't been following the last decade's worth of Ken's tweets about this story making heads or tails of it, either.

...Maybe more will happen in the next story?

New story #2: Shattered Tomorrows preview chapter

After another message from Ken, the story of The Lara-Su Chronicles proper begins with the redesigned Lara-Su walking along a jpeg photograph beach at sunset and crying while thinking about how Knuckles - sorry, his name is K'Nox now - is dead.

Yep! Straight into the dad stuff!

Look, I'm the last person to complain about writers getting super personal and drawing from their own baggage in their writing, but Ken's just no fucking good at it. There's no nuance, nothing interesting to say. He just keeps writing mediocre-to-horrible dads whose misdeeds are always justified by their "good intentions," and then sometimes they die and their kids are like "we may have fought but actually you were the bestest dad ever and I'll miss you forever, I'll never be able to fill your shoes!"

This is the only part of the new material here that feels like it has any heart behind it, because I know how much his complex relationship with his late deadbeat father means to Ken (there's an author's note in this outright saying as much). But the guy died 42 years ago, and it doesn't feel like Ken has had any new thoughts about this part of his life in those four decades. He's just not an introspective or self-aware enough artist to actually mine his personal baggage for anything beyond "father knows best."

Anyway, so then it jumps forward in time(?) and now we're following this human guy who looks like this.

Previously, Ken got a lot of shit for literally just using the likeness of Anthony Mackie for this guy, based on his IMDB profile photo. Ken has thus redesigned the character... and by that I mean I think he looks more like Ernie Hudson now? Ken's clearly just working off of photo references (if not straight up tracing), given his face is the most detailed and realistic-looking thing on any page where he's present.

But you may be wondering: who is this, and why is he here? Well, for one, he's here to run around in front of some low res space photos while making trite references to things like Planet of the Apes and Star Trek. Haha, he makes a joke about red shirts! Original!! But beyond that, Commander Mykhal Taelor (yes, that's really how he chose to spell it) is a human... from Earth! Archie Sonic readers are probably confused, because in those comics Mobius is Earth in the distant post-apocalyptic future. Well, despite being a Planet of the Apes fan, Ken always hated that particular worldbuilding decision from Karl Bollers, always preferring to think of Mobius as a separate alien planet. And now he gets to make that canon in his own stories and throw out Karl's ideas. So Mobius is basically just, like, a Star Trek planet now, with its own alien creatures that sometimes just so happen to look like anthropomorphic Earth animals.

Also, at one point Taelor wonders if the inhabitants of the dead Mobius might have been human, and the alien ally he's talking to over the radio says it's unlikely. "I don't understand why your kind has a problem understanding you're a minority within a minority." Perhaps poor wording for a line said to the only Black character in the story.

Anyway, Commander Taelor here seems to have discovered the uninhabited husk of Mobius after the vague time-space cataclysm everyone was worried about in M25YL has come to pass, and he finds an audio log from Lara-Su that I presume will explain what happened. I guess those are the titular Lara-Su Chronicles. In theory this flash forward establishes some sense of pressing danger, but when the threat to the planet is so unclear and technobabble-y it just kind of lands with a thud.

It doesn't take long before we get back to Lara-Su being sad about her dad. A good little chunk of the chapter is spent with this new timeline's Lara-Su recalling moments in her life, including echoes of the original Lara-Su's memories from M25YL, which feels redundant coming hot off the heels of a straight reprint of that entire arc. And boy, for anyone who read the later Archie Sonic comics, the protagonist having vague memories of the old version of the series from before a lawsuit-related timeline reboot sure does sound familiar, huh?

The art inconsistency somehow becomes even worse in this story, with Ken flip-flopping on whether or not he wants to use outlines, with the no-outline art managing to look even worse by relying entirely on Ken's awful rendering. By this point in the book, readers are also likely to start noticing how often Ken reuses art from previous panels. This is a shortcut that tons of comic artists use, of course. Invincible famously did a joke about this. It's often understandable. But, again... it sure does stand out in a book that took 13 years to make with only 30 pages of new art. Amusingly, Ken even manages to combine his inconsistency and recycling problems by reusing the same art with and without outlines. And, of course, any time Ken tries to draw the Archie era designs it's just... the worst.

And, yes, it's in this dreamlike montage sequence of Lara-Su's life that we get...

The uncomfortable family nudity scene, followed by the dual timeline Julie-Su breastfeeding scene.

Yeah, you might have heard about this one already. If this incredibly eerie presentation of Lara-Su's hazy memories of the two different timelines make it hard to tell what's going on, don't worry. There's another, clearer version later in the book as part of Julie-Su's character profile, because I guess Ken was just so proud of it.

(I censored these myself because I'm not playing Russian roulette with Tumblr's inconsistent nudity rules and risking getting banned lmao)

Like, okay. Is a mother breastfeeding her child really that shocking of a thing to see in a story? No, not at all. But, like... when it's two characters who you previously created for an officially licensed Sonic the Hedgehog comic for 7-year-olds... and some of those officially licensed Sonic the Hedgehog comics for 7-year-olds are reprinted in the same book... and when it's drawn like this... yeah, it's kind of a shocker.

It just looks so unnatural. Julie-Su is posed very deliberately so that you'll see both of her breasts, and in the new timeline version she's barely even holding Lara-Su so you can really get a good look at her supermodel body, showing zero physical signs that she just gave birth. Most people will immediately jump to this being Ken putting his fetishes in his work (a type of criticism that I'm incredibly tired of - it's 2024, all the cool artists are blatantly putting their fetishes in their work now). And my immediate response is that, no, this is probably just Ken trying to come off as really mature on a surface level, a thing he's been obsessed with since the Archie days. Free from the shackles of writing a licensed children's comic, of course he's going to jump immediately into depicting some nonsexual, artistic nudity to try and prove he's A Real Mature Artist For Grown-Ups who just thinks the human body is beautiful and breastfeeding shouldn't be a taboo etc. etc.

But then, like. You look at some of the other character designs. Like Espio's daughter Salma, who's now this horrifying alien lizard person who's always nude, and her scale pattern puts scales exactly where her nipples should be. Or you look at his comments about the Echyd'nya age of consent. Or you look at how he keeps drawing Lara-Su in this. Like, does the shuttle really need this, like... reverse chaise lounge thing in the cockpit? So that we can keep getting these shots of the 16-year-old Lara-Su lying on her stomach and posing with one of her legs kicked up, her naked ass in plain view?

The vibe isn't great, is what I'm saying!

I'm not going to try to ascribe authorial intent here. I don't know. I'm not a psychic. Given his very blatant reliance on photo references elsewhere in the book, it's entirely possible he just referenced some figure drawing photos that were maybe just a little too sexy. And also, he's an American comic book artist, and a boomer one at that. Those guys tend to draw women a certain way, even when it's not supposed to be sexual. I don't fucking know. It just sucks. I'm not gonna make some hyperbolic statement about how this makes him a literal pedophile who should be in jail, but it is deeply offputting and objectifying.

But if you already knew about the nursing scenes and were hoping there was some other really shocking stuff in there for me to talk about in this review, sorry to disappoint, but nope. That's the only shockingly weird new thing in here. Once again, not a lot happens in this story, and what does happen is pretty boring.

Once we get past the recap stuff and the human guy, the plot developments boil down to this: The timeline was altered at the end of M25YL... but not as much as you might think. In the new timeline, Knuckles ("K'Nox"), Cobar (now looking significantly younger), and Rotor (now a rhino just called "The Emissary") still traveled via shuttle to go find a time machine in the Badlands and fix the time-space continuum, like in the climax of the original arc. This time, though, Sonic wasn't there, and Lara-Su came along without having to stow away. Lara-Su watches the ship while the grown ups go deal with the time machine, and then after a couple panels Not Rotor comes back with Cobar and is like "Hey, Cobar got hurt, we gotta leave. Dunno what happened to your dad." And then they just, like. Presume that Knuckles must have died. Even though we have no idea what happened to him. And then they just fly away. And then Lara-Su is sad that her dad died.

And that's pretty much it!

This is supposed to be a really emotional sequence - it's literally the scene where Lara-Su learns that Knuckles is dead - but instead it comes off as unintentionally funny because of how poorly it's portrayed. Not showing Knuckles' actual disappearance is a huge misstep, for one, making his uncertain fate more confusing and anticlimactic than dramatic. But also, Ken keeps just using the same two drawings of Rotor for two pages, so he doesn't really seem to be emoting at all, and he's in this spacey hazmat suit that honestly just makes him look like fucking Moltar from Space Ghost. So the whole time I'm just reading his dialogue in Moltar's deadpan voice as he's like "I dunno. We did what we could. Anyway, let's leave."

After this, we get a two-page spread previewing the rest of the story from Shattered Tomorrows. It's basically like a trailer in comic form. It has one of the most mystifying layouts I've ever seen in a comic book. I have no idea what order I'm supposed to read this in.

Yeah, I kinda have a feeling this is the full extent of what Ken has drawn for the rest of that book. I'd love to be wrong, but I fear that I'm right.

Bonus material: Data files

These are mostly very dull, recapping a lot of events shared between Ken's Archie run and the new Lara-Su Chronicles timeline. It seems like almost his entire run is still considered canon to the backstory of the new timeline, just with some names changed, and things only really diverge at the climax of M25YL. But I'll share the interesting stuff here.

Lara-Su

The main thing you'll notice in Lara-Su's profile is the massive, unreadable wall of text where Ken felt the need to list the entire Knuckles family tree, split across both pages.

This is literally so long that Lara-Su's personal history has to awkwardly cut off mid-sentence and be continued on the final page of the book, after the rest of the data files.

Also, please note that this list gives Julie-Su's mom's full name as Mari-Su of the House of Atrades. Incredible on all levels.

There's also a reference to the dark timeline Lara-Su was originally supposed to come from. You know, the one where Julie-Su is the leader of a rebel movement fighting against a Knuckles who had gone mad with power? The timeline that would have been way more interesting than the one in M25YL? Here it seems to have been written off as the result of another "timeline disruption." Lara-Su allegedly has vague memories of this timeline, in the same way that she has vague memories of the M25YL timeline.

Geoffrey

Geoffrey's bio mostly recaps events from the Archie comics, which means the Sonic/Sally/Geoffrey love triangle has to be alluded to. His rivalry with Sonic is described like this:

"He would later resurface when Kintobor was transporting his latest hi-tech weapon, the Dynamac-3000. It was during that mission he discovered a rival for the Princess' affections. Whereas the Princess would be one of a line of conquests where St. John was concerned, the blue-spined Erinaceinae who protested doth a bit too much regarding his affections for the Princess for St. John's taste would prove to be a source of great sport and amusement."

Yes. It's gross. Saying that Geoffrey saw Sally as "one of a line of conquests" is gross. Ken writing this and then still treating Geoffrey as the coolest badass ever is gross. The "Princess Acorn" is also first on the list of Geoffrey's "female relationships" elsewhere in his bio, though I suppose how much of a "relationship" they had is left vague. Honestly, at this point the fact that Ken didn't explicitly confirm that Geoffrey took the underage Sally's virginity in the book comes off as a display of restraint. The bar couldn't be any lower, I know.

Remington

His bio is, frankly, shockingly long for such a minor character, though I guess he does get a large portion of the word salad dialogue in "The Storm." There's a lot of stuff here about how the identities of his biological parents are shrouded in mystery, a plot point that fans have long speculated Ken just straight up forgot about in his time at Archie. (Ian confirmed that Kragok from the Dark Legion was Remington's dad, though, so this isn't really much of a mystery.)

Lien-Da

She gets a bio even though she's not present in the two new stories, just so we get to look at her awful new design and compare it to how Steven Butler drew her earlier in the book:

Commander Taelor

We get to see two drawings of him with the same exact Ernie Hudson face side by side! That's fun.

Julie-Su

She gets a list of "known friends," but the only character listed is Knuckles' mom. Poor Julie-Su.

Also, Ken feels the need to reiterate that Knuckles and Julie-Su are still distant cousins. He made a whole new timeline where he can change whatever details he wants, but THAT had to remain canon. Thanks, Ken.

And then after the data files we get the special thanks page, listing everyone who preordered the book and/or bought TLSC merch from Ken.

With my name on the list. Because I had to buy a copy to cover it for the blog.

My name is on the very next page right after the breastfeeding panel in Julie-Su's data file.

Yep. He got me.

Is it at least a well put together book? Like, in terms of manufacturing quality?

Its physical quality is... fine. It's a nice, sturdy hardcover. The print quality seems fine, though mine does have a bit of smudging from some sort of printing error on one page. The pages don't seem like they'll fall out on me. The image quality is crisp. The colors are vibrant. This is a low bar, but this is one of the few places where I'm able to give this book anything resembling praise.

The formatting and graphic design work, on the other hand...

(I didn't crumple those page corners, it came like that.)

For one, the placement and sizes of the M25YL pages is inconsistent, largely due to the fact that the book doesn't actually match the proportions of a comic. A lot of pages aren't properly centered vertically. Some pages go all the way up to the top edge of the paper, while others leave a visible gap of about half a centimeter. Every page has a 1cm gap to its left and right, which is sometimes filled in with a solid color or gradient that doesn't quite match the page it's surrounding. I have to assume Ken didn't have any sort of source files or original artwork to work off of, as those ideally would've had more generous bleed to account for slight shifts in printing. It kind of seems like he just got the highest resolution versions he could find of the digital releases online and printed those. The colors are a dead ringer for the digital versions, which have always looked slightly more saturated and pastel than they did in print.

I can't say this bodes well for his further plans for Archie Sonic reprints - sorry, Mobian Line reprints. If they ever come out, please, for the love of god, do not buy those. I don't care how much you love Archie Sonic, they aren't going to be good reprints. For comparison, IDW's similarly priced hardcover Sonic collections have none of these formatting problems, because they're made by people who know what they're doing with access to the actual source files.

The book also has its fair share of text-focused pages, split between the data files and messages directly from Ken about the history of his career and this project, and these are formatted in the most amateurish way possible. Just massive walls of Arial text over either plain white backgrounds, simple gradients, or faded photos. I've seen school yearbooks with better graphic design. Even ignoring my subjective feelings about the art and stories within, this book does not feel like it's worth $36 USD.

It's frankly shocking how shabby he let this thing look considering it's supposed to be his baby. And doesn't that really sum it all up?

Closing thoughts

Obviously, I did not expect this to be any good. But I'm still left kind of dumbfounded by it.

I think what really strikes me about it is that Ken had a blank check to do whatever he wanted here. He got an opportunity many writers would kill for when he gained complete ownership of his most famous work. He's free from the limitations of a monthly licensed comic book for children, free to make whatever creative decisions he wants without editors or other writers or Sega to worry about, free to completely reinvent the series to his heart's content and finally tell the story of his dreams. And with that opportunity and 13 years of his time, he made... this. A direct continuation of "Mobius: 25 Years Later" that barely changes anything about the characters or world beyond their awful new designs, even though much of the word count is spent rambling about how the timeline has changed. A story that makes zero concessions for new readers, or even returning readers who don't already have the last decade's worth of Ken's tweets explaining his creative decisions burned into their memory. 30 pages where nothing really happens and the story barely moves forward an inch despite the decades-long wait - but maybe something will happen if you buy the next book!

Who is this for? Maybe this really is a project for no one but Ken. Maybe he just really, really wants to finish the story he started, a story that's personal to him due to the family history it evokes, and the number of people who enjoy it or buy it beyond that is irrelevant. I think that many of the best artists are incredibly self-indulgent ones working with that exact mindset, artists whose enthusiasm for their own work jumps off the page or screen. So, if that's the case, then why the fuck isn't he telling the damn story? What's stopping him? Why is he still spinning his wheels? Where is that passion for his own work? Because it sure as hell isn't there on the page. There's a huge part of me that really wishes I could say "Man, what a weirdo, but you do you, Ken. You tell your weird little story." But there's barely any story here. It's like he loves styling himself as a storyteller, but he's terrified of finally having to actually tell a story after all this time. He's still stuck in the exact same mode of writing he was in almost 30 years ago when he was doing 6-page backup stories about Knuckles, just killing time and stringing readers along until he's eventually able to truly realize his vision. If not now, then when, Ken?

Even the back cover blurb is mostly just a dry recap of the history of this thing. It was a Sonic comic, the original arc was published in these issues, it went unfinished, Ken left Archie, the lawsuits happened, now he's continuing the story. There's nothing about why anyone should give a shit about this as its own story, even though Ken has spent years trying in vain to convince people TLSC is its own beast that shouldn't be judged as a Sonic story. I think deep down he knows that there's no pitch for this beyond the novelty of it originating from Sonic. And that's why, despite declaring that he'd leave the site, he's still on Twitter riling up Sonic fans. It's the only attention he gets at this point.

Maybe this is too harsh when those 30 pages of new comics are just intended as a preview for the "real" book. But the elephant in the room is that we have no idea if that "real" book will ever actually come out, let alone the entire series of seven graphic novels that will supposedly complete this saga.

Ken is undeniably a complete jackass and all around unpleasant, vindictive person who's rightly become an industry pariah. He's a self-proclaimed paragon of progressive values who'll send Comicsgaters after his successors for the crime of not worshiping the ground he walks on, and then turn around and announce he's going to reprint their work without even consulting them. He's a sore winner who already won his copyright battle on a level most comic writers would never dare to dream of, and yet still won't truly be satisfied until he sees an entire major comic publisher go out of business, putting god knows how many people out of work, because he thinks this would get him back the license to a video game franchise he doesn't even like.

But I still have to pity him.

As an artist, the trajectory of his life is my nightmare. I think all of us fear dying before we can tell all the stories we want to tell. There's simply never enough time to do everything. And here's Ken in his 60s, talking about how he's still planning on making his magnum opus all by himself out of stubbornness and pride, despite demonstrably proving he can't handle the workload, and also talking about how if he dies before the project can be finished he'll have to pass the torch on to his kids and get them to finish it for him. It's so grim. Even just typing that sends a shiver down my spine. It took nine years of his limited time on Earth to finish and release an 11-page comic about Geoffrey St. John sitting backwards in a chair.

This is a purgatory of his own creation. And yet... I'm not sure he's ever been prouder. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.

I guess if I want people to take anything away from this review, it's this:

Lesson one: If you're an artist or writer of some kind, or an aspiring creator, don't wait around. No one else is going to tell your story for you. Start writing that novel. Start drawing that webcomic. Start making that game. If Penders can put out this damn book that no one asked for after 13 years of work, then proudly proclaim that he's still going to make six or seven more books and also reprint hundreds of comics he doesn't have all of the rights to, then show up to cons with that foul Lara-Su Chronicles: Shattered Tomorrows banner and sit in front of it beaming with pride, fully aware of his critics but saying "fuck 'em, I know I'm hot shit," then you can do fucking anything. Tell the weird, sincere, cringe story of your dreams. If Ken Penders doesn't have imposter syndrome, then nobody should.

And lesson two: Don't buy Ken's books.

#tkp post #tlsc #tlsc beginnings

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baeshijima · 3 months ago

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hmmm.... thoughts about composer!reader, whose pieces are always created for and featured in mr reca's films/projects.

people aren't sure when it first started, but in the release of one of his prior films was an ost. of course, it's not unusual to have music in such projects, but that one had felt... different, somehow — in the way its composition struck the chords of many, with billions across the cosmos instantly scouring for who made that piece.

it, of course, didn't take all that long when your name was featured in the credits. however there was barely any information aside from your name and credentials. (seriously, how could there not even be a single photo?!) no one knew what you looked like for quite a long time, only ever recognising your name and your music; even despite the numerous interviews, mr reca had never disclosed anything about you other than your talents. it came to a point where everyone believed they would never see your appearance.

well, until all hell broke loose during the annual intergalactic film awards, that is.

everyone already knew the drill — if mr reca had directed a film that year, it would undoubtedly win the adapted/original screenplay, cinematography, directing, production design, sound, music (original score and song), and film of the year awards, which also led to you winning both the music awards. usually, the composers would be the ones to collect said awards. however, the masses have become used to mr reca being the one to collect them on your behalf with thank you's also on your behalf.

that's how it's been ever since you made your mark in the universe, and so it really is understandable the uproar created by those in and out of attendance when the one who went collect the two awards wasn't the esteemed director, but a completely unfamiliar person; you.

you are definitely younger than they originally thought, having believed it must have been someone of a senior status of sorts to have consistently created such masterpieces. all eyes are trained on you as you step on stage and into the limelight for the first time, the light enhancing your features and formal attire when approaching the mic with a small flashcard in hand. your mouth opens, and the audience leans in with baited breaths as they await your first words.

...only for nothing to come out.

everyone watches a little dumbfounded as you try to talk once more but, aside from gaping like a fish, your efforts remain futile. it doesn't take long for you to clamp your mouth and eyes shut, even raising the awards in front of you in an attempt to shield your face from the crowd.

you... you were just really shy. or maybe a little...socially awkward, perhaps...? if this was the reason you never showed yourself, then they're beginning to understand why...

it passes in a blur — quite literally in that of brown. one moment you are alone on the stage, the next you have the presence of the renown director standing slightly in front of you, as though acting as a shield from the many prying eyes.

"apologies," he begins, his usual smile on display, "but my dearest composer has been suffering with a sore throat these past few days. on their behalf, we thank you all kindly for your support in our work."

and then he swiftly leaves with you tucked under and shielded by his coat, murmuring unreadable words to you as you both disappear backstage and leave everyone in a state of frenzy; to both those inside the ceremonial hall, and to those watching live elsewhere.

(it was only discovered after the awards ceremony concluded what the director had said to you, with the uploader being dubbed as a holy saint for their contributions to society. while the visual aspects of the video itself were not the clearest, barely anyone had it within themselves to complain when the audio was clear as crystal:

"and here i thought you were going to be brave and face your stage fright after all that pep-talk you gave yourself on the way here."

"i'm sorry... i really thought i could do it this time..."

"now, now, i'm merely teasing. you made a big step just making an appearance here today. i know how much courage this took for you, and i'm proud of you for facing it."

"really...?"

"but of course. i'm always proud of you, [name]. there is not a moment where i haven't been.")

(it also was not long until the cosmos was taken by storm when various pictures snapped during the awards ceremony spread. the millions of candids featuring you were one of the most liked and shared, with the top spot joined by the sequence of pictures taken of mr reca's soft expression when watching you onstage, into his realisation of your predicament, into him running onstage and shielding you from the cameras when making your way backstage.)

(...the drastic influx of fan accounts dedicated to both you alone and to you and reca should really be a studied phenomenon.)

#sophie talks : concepts <3 #also reader plays the paino for reca when coming up with original scores and songs while he merely gazes with sickeningly soft and #lovestricken eyes while adding his own thoughts to the composition and sometimes playing alongside you and i think thats very very sweet #but um... this was supposed to be a one or two paragraph brainrot 🧍‍♀️and now its a fic 🧍‍♀️ why does this always happen 🧍‍♀️#man... smth has happened to me since mr reca became real... the brain has been rewired.... ohjg #okay but anyWAY composer!reader x mr reca would be such a cute concept and i have many many thoughts on their bg and dynamic ;w;#mr reca x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #mr reca x you #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you

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lovelyspring7 · 3 months ago

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Silver Pearl | Yandere JJK x Reader

Preview: Jungkook is used to getting what he wants, and now, he wants you. Saying "no" isn’t an option. Will you find a way to break free from his relentless grip, or is freedom just an illusion in the billionaire’s twisted mind?

Word count: 13k

Genre: Yandere

Pairing: CEO Billionaire Jungkook x reader, short mentions of Cha Eunwoo & Jung Jaehyun.

Warnings: Yandere, stalking, obsessive behaviour, kidnapping, non consensual touching, manipulation, controlling & emotionally abusive behaviour.

Disclaimer: This type of content is not suitable for all audiences and I do not condone any of the presented behaviour. This is purely for entertainment and fictional purposes and I don’t think any BTS member would act like this.

Authors note: The second part of Pearl series is here! Hope you enjoy! Can’t wait to know what you guys think of this long awaited chapter, my asks are always open!💜

Read Part 1 Here

With trembling legs, you let Jungkook guide you back to the bedroom. His grip on your hand was gentle, but the fear lingering in your chest made your entire body tense. The warmth of his touch, once comforting, now felt like a chain binding you to him.

You couldn’t believe how quickly everything had spiraled. Just hours ago, he was affectionate, kind even, and now... Now, the man standing before you was a stranger, someone whose darkness you had never truly seen until tonight.

As you entered the bedroom, Jungkook released your hand and sighed, rubbing his neck as though the tension of the evening had caught up to him. You stood near the door, watching him closely, unsure of your next move.

Jungkook’s smile softened as he turned to you, almost as if the events from earlier hadn’t happened. “Come here, princess.” He patted the bed beside him, his eyes urging you to comply.

You hesitated, but his gaze darkened, and you knew that defying him right now wasn’t an option. Slowly, you made your way over to the bed and sat down, keeping your distance from him.

He noticed but said nothing, instead reaching over to pull you closer. You flinched slightly, but Jungkook ignored it, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as if it was the most natural thing. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, you know. I could never hurt you.”

You swallowed hard, trying to suppress the tears that threatened to spill. How could he speak so calmly, as if he hadn't just confessed he had someone killed? As if you weren’t trapped?

He stroked your hair, his voice a low murmur. “I know it’s a lot to take in. But I promise, everything I do is for you, princess.”

Your stomach twisted, anger and fear bubbling just beneath the surface, but you forced yourself to stay still.

Jungkook leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “You’ll see,” he whispered against your skin. “You’ll see that this is how it’s supposed to be.”

A lump formed in your throat, and you fought to hold back the sob that was building. But Jungkook noticed your shaking body, his brows furrowing in concern. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re just overwhelmed.”

“I-I’m tired,” you whispered, hoping he’d give you space.

He paused, then nodded, giving you a small understanding smile. “Of course. You’ve had a long day.”

Jungkook stood up and helped you under the covers, tucking you in with a tenderness that felt so out of place after everything that had happened. You watched as he moved around the bedroom, dimming the lights and making his way to the other side of the bed. He slid under the covers beside you, pulling you close to him. His arms wrapped around you, caging you in. You could feel his heartbeat against your back. It was steady, calm, completely at odds with the storm of emotions raging inside you.

“Goodnight, princess,” he whispered into the darkness, his lips brushing against the back of your neck.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you lay there, trapped in his embrace.

As Jungkook’s arms tightened around you, the weight of everything crashed down. Your heart pounded in your chest, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t slow your racing thoughts. The room was quiet, but your mind was a storm.

Lying there, trapped in his embrace, the reality of what you had gotten yourself into settled in, cold and suffocating. You didn’t dare to move. Tears welled in your eyes, hot and uncontrollable. You blinked hard, trying to stop them from spilling, but it was no use. Slowly, silently, they rolled down your cheeks, soaking the pillow beneath you.

You bit your lip, forcing yourself to stay quiet. You couldn’t let him know. You couldn’t let him see you like this. He might ask questions, might tighten his grip, the last thing you wanted was for him to notice.

The warmth of his body behind you felt suffocating, a reminder of how close he always was, how there was no escaping him. The man you once thought was kind and protective had revealed something far darker, something far more dangerous. You’d never felt more alone, more trapped.

Fucking rich people.

How did this happen? How have you gotten yourself into this? You cursed yourself, cursed the choices that led you here, cursed him for being so cruel under the surface of his affection. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You buried your face deeper into the pillow, muffling any sound that might slip out. The sobs you held back were painful, your throat raw from trying to stay quiet, but you had no choice. You had to be strong, had to stay silent. For now, that was the only thing you could control.

You lay there for what felt like hours, the tears eventually slowing as exhaustion began to weigh down on you. But even as sleep finally pulled you under, a deep, gnawing fear lingered in the pit of your stomach.

__________

As you stirred from sleep, your body felt heavy, weighed down by the exhaustion of a restless, sleepless night. Your head pounded, and your eyes were swollen from the silent crying that had consumed you hours before. The fear that had gripped you the night before lingered, but it wasn’t the same. As you lay there in the empty bed, staring at the ceiling, something else began to stir inside you.

Anger.

The sadness and fear that had paralyzed you last night shifted into a burning rage. The more you thought about it, the more the fury built. How could he act this way, treat you like something he owned, then sleep so peacefully beside you as if nothing had happened? It was sickening. It was maddening. He had controlled you with his words, his touch, trapping you, and you were done being afraid.

You threw the covers off and sat up and swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood up, the cold floor beneath your feet doing nothing to calm the anger simmering in your chest.

The scent of sweet vanilla wafted through the air, drawing your attention to the faint sounds of movement coming from the kitchen. He was up, and from the smell of it, making breakfast like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t terrified you into submission last night.

You walked to the door, every step fueled by the fire raging inside you. Reaching the kitchen, you saw him standing there, humming softly to himself, completely at ease as he moved around the kitchen, preparing breakfast.

Jungkook glanced up as you entered, his face lighting up with a smile that felt so wrong given everything that had happened. “Good morning, princess,” he said warmly, “Sleep well?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, the fury bubbling up again. He was acting like nothing had happened. How could he be so calm, so collected?

“Come sit down,” he said, turning back to the stove. “Breakfast will be ready soon.”

You stood there, staring at his back, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. He hadn’t even acknowledged the hell he put you through last night. You wanted to scream from how frustrated you were. But instead, you swallowed down the anger, pushing it deep inside for now.

Without saying a word, you walked over to the table and sat down. Jungkook continued to hum softly, oblivious to the storm building inside you.

But for now, you waited.

Jungkook set the plate in front of you with a wide, satisfied smile. Pancakes, perfectly golden and stacked high, topped with fresh berries and drizzled with syrup. The sweet scent of vanilla and sugar filled the air, tempting and warm. It was one of your favorites, something he knew well.

He sat down across from you, still acting like everything was perfectly normal. “I made them just the way you like,” he said, his voice soft and affectionate.

You stared at the pancakes, unmoving. Your fingers tightened around the edge of the table as you felt the anger inside you start to rise again.

Jungkook looked up when you didn’t immediately dig in. “What’s wrong baby, you don't like pancakes anymore?” He asked with curiosity.

“I’m not hungry,” you muttered, eyes fixed on the untouched pancakes in front of you.

You lifted your gaze, and there he was, watching you intently. His jaw clenched as he swallowed hard, breaking the tense silence.

“You were so good to me last night,” his voice was calm, but edged with something darker. “So why the sudden change?”

“Eat.” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for arguments.

“I said, I'm not hungry.” You bite back.

He exhaled through his nose as he put his fork down.

“What? Are you mad that things aren't going your way for once?” It was a bold sentence but it needed to be said. You weren't going to let him have his way with you. Staring back at him you saw how his jaw visibly clenched, irritation flickering across his features as he fought to maintain his composure.

“I’m gonna ask you one last time,” he said, voice steady but charged, “Eat your breakfast.”

“No.”

The word barely left your mouth before he stood abruptly, the force of it sending your heart racing. Before you could process what was happening, his hands were on you, lifting you out of your chair with a swift, almost casual strength. He carried you toward the kitchen counter, his grip firm but controlled. He set you down on the cold, smooth surface, positioning you so that you were sitting on the edge, your legs dangling. The cold countertop sent a shiver through you, but it was nothing compared to the icy tension in the air.

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” he muttered, his breath warm against your ear, his tone a dangerous mix of exasperation and something much darker.

Your breath caught as he stood close, his presence overwhelming. Panic flickered at the edges of your mind, but you forced yourself to stay calm, pushing down the fear. His grip remained firm, yet disturbingly gentle, as though he was handling something delicate, something he could break if he chose.

“Let me go,” you demanded, your voice shaky but defiant.

He paused, his eyes scanning your face, searching for a crack in your resolve. Submission, perhaps. Doubt. He wanted to see you break, but you wouldn’t.

“You’re testing me,” he said, his voice low and threatening, but his hold on you never tightened. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.” his gaze drilling into yours.

“I’m not your doll,” you said through gritted teeth, meeting his stare head-on, refusing to let him see the fear in you.

His lips curled into something resembling a smile, but there was no warmth in it, only cold amusement. “Doll?” he echoed, his voice soft but dangerous. “No baby. But you’re mine. And you’ll do as I say.”

You could feel your pulse pounding in your temples, but you didn’t look away. “No, I won't.”

His expression darkened, and for a split second, something almost like disappointment flashed in his eyes. Then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by that unnerving calm. He leaned in close, his breath ghosting over your cheek.

“You’re going to eat,” he whispered, his voice like velvet over steel. “Or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

His words wrapped around you, sickly sweet yet suffocating, the threat lingering beneath his loving tone impossible to ignore. He put his hand on your chin and held it firm, his thumb tracing your lip with unsettling affection. The way he looked at you, as if you were the most precious thing in the world, only made the whole situation feel even more twisted.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you hated yourself for it—the crack of desperation he would no doubt savor.

He tilted his head, his expression softening into something almost affectionate, his thumb pausing its slow movement. “Please?” he whispered back, as if you’d just said something sweet. His grip relaxed, but not enough for you to break free. “Oh, Sweetheart, I know you’re scared. But you don’t have to be. Everything I do, it’s for us. To keep you safe and close to me, to give you everything you deserve and more.”

He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, his other hand sliding to the back of your neck, cradling you as if you were delicate, breakable. “Be good for me.” he murmured, his voice a gentle lullaby laced with obsession.

His closeness was suffocating, his words dripping with a distorted kind of love that made your skin crawl. “This isn’t okay,” you managed to say, your voice trembling as you met his gaze, refusing to let him see how completely terrified you were.

He smiled, but it was filled with a dark, dangerous affection, as though he found your defiance adorable rather than threatening. “You’ll understand one day,” he whispered softly, his fingers tightening just slightly at the back of your neck, holding you in place as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’ll see how much I care.”

He straightened, his gaze locking onto yours again, and in that moment, you could see how deep his obsession ran, how far he was willing to go. He gently released his hold on your neck and stepped back, his eyes still glued to you, watching every breath you took.

“Now,” he said, his voice soft but commanding, “you’re going to eat. And you’re going to stop fighting me, my love. You understand that?”

Your heart pounded in your chest, every fiber of your being screaming to run, but you were trapped—trapped by his words, by the twisted love in his eyes, by the knowledge that he would never let you go.

He slowly stepped back, leaving you on the cold countertop as he walked to the table to grab the plate of pancakes. When he returned, he held it in front of you.

You got goosebumps as you stared down at the plate, the pancakes now cold and uninviting, but it wasn't the food that made you hesitate. It was the weight of his gaze on you, expectant and unwavering, his dark eyes daring you to defy him again. You could feel the unspoken threat hanging in the air, just beneath the thin veneer of affection he wore so well.

Slowly, you reached for the fork, your fingers trembling as they closed around the handle. You weren't hungry. You could barely breathe, let alone eat, but refusing him again felt like

stepping into something far more dangerous. You could sense his satisfaction as you lifted the fork to your mouth, even though every movement felt like surrender.

"That's it," he murmured softly, his voice low and filled with twisted pride, as though he'd just coaxed a frightened animal into trusting him. "Good girl. See how easy it can be when you stop fighting?"

The words made your stomach churn, but you swallowed the bite, forcing yourself not to react. You couldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing how deeply he affected you. Every inch of your body screamed to run, to push the plate away, but you knew he wouldn't allow that. Not now. Not ever.

He watched you closely, eyes flickering with possessive adoration as you took another bite. It wasn't the food he was concerned with, it was your submission, your compliance, the quiet thrill he got from watching you bend to his will. "That's my girl," he whispered, his fingers brushing your hair back, tucking it gently behind your ear. His touch was soft, almost tender, but it made your skin crawl all the same. "I knew you'd come around. You just need a little... encouragement."

You set the fork down, unable to stomach another bite, but the gesture didn't seem to bother him. He stepped closer, standing between your knees now, his hands resting lightly on your thighs, his thumbs tracing small circles in a way that would've been comforting if it weren't him.

"I do this because I love you," he whispered, his breath warm against your cheek as he leaned in, his lips brushing your skin in an unsettling mockery of a kiss. "I know you haven't seen it yet, but you will. You'll understand. No one will ever care for you like I do. No one will ever love you like I do."

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure, but your pulse hammered in your ears. “You can't force me to feel the same," you whispered, barely able to keep the tremor out of your voice.

He paused, his lips still hovering near your skin, and for a moment, you wondered if you'd pushed too far. But then, he smiled- a slow, unsettling smile that sent a shiver down your spine. "Oh, Princess," he murmured, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. "You don't have to say it. I can see it in you, even if you don't realize it yet. I'll wait.”

His hands slid up your thighs, his grip firm but not painful, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm patient, you see. I'm willing to wait until you come to your senses. But make no mistake," he leaned in closer, his lips ghosting over yours now, the intimacy of it sickening, "you're mine. Whether you admit it now or later, it doesn't matter. You belong to me."

You bit down on your lip, willing yourself not to tremble under his intense gaze. He lingered there, his breath warm against your mouth, daring you to react. When you stayed silent, he straightened, the satisfaction in his expression unmistakable.

"Good," he whispered, pressing one last, lingering kiss to your forehead before pulling away. He turned his back, walking calmly to the sink, as though the entire conversation had been perfectly normal. "You'll see, love. One day, you'll thank me for all of this."

__________

After finishing breakfast and clearing the table, you felt the need to wash away the lingering tension from the morning. You turned to him, trying to keep your voice light.

“Hey, I’m going to take a shower,” you said, heading toward the bathroom.

He looked up from where he was drying the dishes, his brow furrowing slightly. “A shower? Why now?”

“Just to freshen up,” you replied, forcing a smile. “I feel a bit gross after breakfast.”

He put the dish towel down, turning his full attention to you. “I can help with that,” he said, his voice low and slightly playful.

You hesitated, a slight chill running down your spine. “That’s okay. I can manage on my own.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he maintained calm. “You know I just want to help you feel good. How about I join you?”

You took a step back, a mix of apprehension and defiance flooding your mind. “I’d really rather be alone right now,” you insisted, trying to keep your tone firm but sweet. “It’s just a quick shower.”

He stepped closer, his expression softening, but you could sense the underlying tension. “You don’t need to be alone. I can make it more enjoyable. We could have fun together.”

“I just need a few minutes to myself,” you said, keeping your gaze steady. “Please, can’t you let me have that?”

For a moment, he looked taken aback, as if your request was unexpected. But then his expression hardened, the warmth fading from his eyes. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide from me,” he replied, his voice steady but tinged with frustration.

You swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. “I’m not hiding. I just want some space to gather my thoughts. That’s all.”

He crossed his arms, his jaw tightening slightly.

“I’ll be quick, I promise,” you insisted, trying to sound convincing. “I’ll be right in the bathroom. You can stay close if that makes you feel better.”

He considered your words for a moment, and you could see the conflict in his eyes. Finally, he sighed, stepping back a little. “Fine, super quick then. I don’t want to be away from you for too long.”

You nodded, relief flooding through you.

As you headed into the bathroom, you couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes on you, watching as you closed the door. You turned on the water, letting it run as you leaned against the cool tiles. You needed this time alone to clear your head, to breathe without his suffocating presence hovering over you.

As the warm water cascaded over you in the shower, you allowed yourself a few precious moments to breathe. You closed your eyes, focusing on the sound of the water to drown out the thoughts of him.

What could you do to escape him? It was a dangerous game, but you had to find a way. You needed a strategy, a way to manipulate him into letting his guard down. If you played your cards right, you might be able to find a window of opportunity to slip away.

Your mind raced as you lathered shampoo into your hair. First, you needed to build his trust. You’d seen how quickly his mood could shift from affectionate to possessive, and you had to navigate that carefully. If you could make him believe that you were accepting of his love, that you were starting to see things his way, perhaps he would let you have more freedom, time alone, maybe even time away from him.

Once you rinsed out the shampoo, you continued your thoughts, focusing on the idea of creating a facade of compliance. “I can play along,” you thought, the water washing away not just the soap, but your anxiety as well. If I show him that I’m willing to embrace his twisted version of love, he might relax his grip.

Maybe you could start asking for small favors, things that seemed harmless but could lead to more significant opportunities. If you could convince him to let you go to school, or to see a friend, it would give you the chance to formulate a real escape plan. You could text someone for help or find a way to contact the outside world without him knowing.

The idea of appearing genuinely affectionate could work to your advantage too. If you made him believe that you cared for him, that you were falling into his idea of love, he might not suspect anything. You could ask to do something nice for him, like cooking dinner or watching a movie together, to further endear yourself to him. Keeping him engaged and distracted would be crucial.

Rinsing off the last of the soap on your body, you rehearsed the plan in your head. Every word had to be perfect. You needed to make him feel reassured, secure in the idea that you were staying, that you belonged to him, because if you could make him believe that, maybe, just maybe, he’d let his guard down. And that sliver of trust could be your chance to escape.

Wrapping yourself in a white plush robe, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. As you stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, Jungkook was already there, waiting. His eyes immediately flicked over you, and there was something possessive in the way he watched, as if even a moment without you was too long.

“See? I told you I’d be quick,” you said, forcing a lightness into your tone. “Thank you for being so patient with me.”

His gaze softened slightly as he smiled back at you, and for a moment, you felt a rush of confidence. Maybe, just maybe, you could find a way out of this after all.

“Feeling better, princess?” he asked softly, though his eyes held an edge. “I picked out something for you.”

You glanced at the clothes laid out on the bed, one of his hoodies and a pair of sweatpants. You hesitated, trying to keep your expression neutral. Wearing his clothes would make him feel in control. But you needed to give him the illusion that you were trying to please him while still asserting some level of independence, and can't go from a zero to a hundred.

You forced a small smile. “Thank you, Jungkook, but I was thinking I could pick out something myself today. Maybe one of my old clothes?” Your voice was light, casual, like it was no big deal.

He crossed the room in just a few strides, standing close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to read something hidden in your words. “You don’t like what I picked out for you?” His voice was low, but it carried a sharp undertone. A test.

You swallowed, keeping your gaze soft and affectionate, even as tension wound tight in your chest. “It’s not that. I just thought it’d be fun to wear something different. But if you want me to wear this, I will.” You reached out to touch the hoodie, hoping the gesture would calm him.

Jungkook’s jaw tightened briefly, but his eyes softened as they roamed your face, as if trying to understand you fully. Gently, he lifted his hand to cup your chin, his thumb grazing your cheek tenderly. He tilted your head up, making you meet his gaze.

“You don’t have to worry, my love,” he murmured, his voice warm but firm. “I’ll always take care of you. Let me handle everything, okay.”

His words were filled with affection, but beneath them, there was still an unmistakable note of control.

You fought against the instinct to pull away, keeping your voice soft and steady. “I know, and I’m trying. I just thought you might like seeing me in something else, something like silk. But I’ll wear whatever you want.”

For a moment, there was silence between you, the weight of his gaze heavy on your skin. Then, finally, his lips twitched into a small, satisfied smile. The decision was final in his smile.

As Jungkook reached for the robe, you instinctively tightened your grip on it, he gently tugged it from your grasp. Panic flared in your chest as the soft fabric slipped down, but you reacted quickly, clutching the robe just before it fully exposed you. Only your shoulder and part of your collarbone were visible, the rest of the robe held tightly against your chest.

His eyes traced the newly exposed skin, lingering for a moment, before flicking up to meet your gaze. A mix of emotions flickered in his expression, something between satisfaction and curiosity, as though he was testing your boundaries, watching how far you’d go to resist.

“You don’t need to hide from me,” he murmured, his voice low and gentle, though laced with possessiveness.

You grip firmly on the robe as you carefully shielded yourself.

Ironically, even then as a stripper, you’d never shown much of yourself. Most of the outfits you wore, body suits and lingerie, had always covered more than they revealed. It was a kind of armor, a way to maintain some control over your own body, despite the prying eyes watching you night after night.

He paused, clearly not used to being denied, even in such a small way. His hand brushed your arm, fingers ghosting over your bare shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine.

You nodded, as you let him pull the hoodie down over your head. Even as the oversized fabric enveloped you, you kept your grip on the robe beneath it, protecting yourself, both from the cold and from the vulnerability of being completely exposed to him.

As Jungkook stepped back, admiring how the hoodie looked on you, his gaze shifted to your wet hair, droplets falling onto the fabric. He frowned slightly, a hint of concern crossing his face. "Your hair's dripping water" he said softly, reaching out to brush a strand behind your ear. "I don’t want you catching a cold."

Without waiting for your response, he turned toward the vanity. "Let me get you a hair tie."

As soon as his back was turned, your heart raced, knowing you had just seconds. You glanced quickly at the bed where the sweatpants were lying. Without thinking, you dropped the robe that was covering your waist down. Moving swiftly but silently, you grabbed the sweatpants and stepped into them, pulling them up just as Jungkook returned with the hair tie in hand.

His eyes immediately went to the sweatpants now covering your legs. For a brief moment, his smile faltered, and you could see a flicker of disappointment in his expression. His gaze lingered on the fabric, and the tension between you grew heavier.

He had been expecting something different, a chance to savor the control he had over you in this moment, and now, it was slipping. You saw the sadness in his eyes, subtle but unmistakable, as he handed you the hair tie.

"You were quick," he said softly, his tone gentle but tinged with regret. His fingers brushed the fabric of the sweatpants lightly, as if he were reconsidering what to say next. "I just wanted to help."

You forced a smile, trying to smooth things over. "I know," you replied, taking the hair tie from him. "I just got cold and... I thought it would be better." You paused, meeting his eyes, hoping the reassurance in your voice was enough. "But I appreciate everything you do for me. Really."

He exhaled slowly, his hand falling back to his side. He nodded, though you could still feel that lingering disappointment in the air.

“Let’s not think about it too much, okay?” he said, his voice dipping into that sweet tone he used when trying to soothe over any conflict. “Why don’t we relax for a bit? We could watch a movie, something we both enjoy. How about that?”

You nodded, keeping the smile on your face. “Sure, that sounds nice.”

Without another word, Jungkook took your hand and guided you toward the living room, where the plush couch awaited. As he set up the movie, you could feel his presence behind you, close and attentive, his fingers brushing your back as if testing the waters. Once everything was ready, he sat down next to you, immediately pulling you into his lap, his arms wrapping securely around your waist.

As the movie went on, you could feel his eyes on you more than the screen. Every so often, his hands would drift, brushing over your thighs, running along your back, and occasionally tightening as if to remind you that you were his. His touch became bolder, more insistent, until it started to feel like he was less interested in the movie and more focused on you.

You shifted uncomfortably, trying to redirect his attention to the screen. "This part's really good," you said lightly, gesturing toward the TV, but he wasn’t paying attention. His lips pressed against your neck, lingering there for longer than you wanted. Your heart raced as you tried to stay calm, forcing a nervous laugh.

"Jungkook... maybe we can just-"

Before you could finish, his phone buzzed, cutting through the moment like a lifeline. His grip on you loosened slightly, he took out the phone with a sigh, frustration flashing in his eyes.

"Hold on, just one second," he murmured. His fingers lingered on your waist for a moment before he finally pulled away completely and gently moved you aside, standing as he answered the call. His voice shifted, going from soft to firm and businesslike. "Yeah? What is it?"

He paced across the room, his back to you now, as he discussed something about a meeting that needed his attention. You sat there, your heart still pounding from the intensity of his closeness, but now relieved by the brief reprieve.

Jungkook shot you a glance, his expression torn between annoyance at the interruption and reluctance to leave you alone. "I have to take care of something at work," he said, his tone clipped but apologetic. "I’ll be back before dinner. Just stay here, okay? I'll make it quick."

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and watched as he gathered his things.

Jungkook lingered by the door, his hand on the handle as he turned back to face you. His expression softened, but there was something darker underneath- a warning, a reminder of control. He stepped closer, his eyes locking onto yours with an unsettling intensity.

“I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret while I’m gone, princess,” he said quietly, his voice firm yet gentle, as if coaxing you into compliance. “And I really don’t want us to do anything we’ll both regret.” The words, though calm, carried an unmistakable edge.

Your stomach twisted at the unspoken threat in his tone. You forced yourself to smile, nodding obediently. “Of course. I’ll just stay here, wait for you to come back,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

He moved closer again, reaching out to brush your hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just a little too long. “Good girl,” he murmured, his fingers gently gripping your chin, lifting your face to meet his gaze. “I’ll know if you try anything. Don’t forget that.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze, his thumb tracing your lower lip in a way that made your skin crawl despite the tenderness. He was always like this, smothering affection masking something far more dangerous. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment too long before he pulled away.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he said, a twisted warmth in his tone. “Be good while I’m gone.” With that, he stepped away, finally exiting the room, but not before casting one last look over his shoulder, as if ensuring you understood exactly what he expected.

You heard the door click shut, the sound echoing in your ears like a warning bell. Your mind racing, trying to process everything. He hadn’t locked the door, not this time, but you knew better than to believe you could just walk out without consequence. There would be cameras, perhaps even people watching.

A part of you wanted to rush for the door, but you knew better. You had to be smart, strategic. Trying to escape now would only tighten his grip, making things even worse. If you were going to find a way out, it had to be subtle, planned, and with no room for error.

Taking a shaky breath. For now, you had to play the part.

You stood there for a moment, listening to the quiet hum of the apartment after Jungkook left. The air felt heavy, as though his presence still lingered, even though you were alone now. But his words echoed in your mind: “I’ll know if you try anything.”

You forced yourself to breathe slowly, trying to calm your racing heart. You couldn't act hastily, not now. You glanced toward the door, freedom, but not without consequences. You had no idea what surveillance systems or traps he might have in place. You knew he was possessive enough to ensure you wouldn’t just slip out without him knowing. He always had control, even when he wasn’t physically there.

You looked around the apartment, your mind running through all the possibilities, all the things he could be watching. Cameras? Maybe. Some kind of alert system? You couldn’t rule it out. You’d learned early on that he wasn’t the kind of person to leave anything to chance.

Carefully, you walked toward the window, pulling the curtain back just enough to peek outside. You were several stories up. Jumping wasn’t an option.

Your mind buzzed with ideas, trying to balance hope with fear. What could you do now to buy yourself more time, more trust? You knew you had to be smart, to play along even when it felt suffocating. Maybe this time, when he returned, you could act more compliant, give him a reason to believe you were falling in line. You just needed him to let his guard down a little more.

With a sigh, you moved back to the couch, deciding it was safer to wait. You couldn’t make any rash decisions. Not yet.

As you sat, your mind shifted back to Jungkook’s behavior, his unsettling mix of affection and control. He truly believed he was doing this out of love, protecting you, caring for you. That delusion fueled his every action, and it made him unpredictable. You knew you had to carefully navigate his moods. Push too hard, and he’d snap. Give in too much, and you’d lose yourself completely.

You fiddled with the hem of his oversized hoodie he had dressed you in, the material soft against your skin, and the subtle scent of laundry detergent. You had to stay calm, stay strategic. Maybe you could make dinner for him. A way to show him you were being “good,” just as he expected.

As you made your way to the kitchen, an idea came to mind: Bibimbap. It was simple, comforting, and reminded you of times when things were easier. Back when you had to scrape together whatever ingredients you had just to make a meal, tossing them into a bowl of rice with a bit of protein.

You opened the fridge and scanned for what you needed. There were eggs, some vegetables, and a bit of leftover beef, perfect for what you had in mind. Cooking could help settle your nerves, and more importantly, it could keep Jungkook happy.

Just as you were about to place the fried egg in the bowl for the final touch, you heard the front door open. He was back, sooner than expected. Your heart jumped into your throat, and you quickly composed yourself, forcing a soft smile as you turned toward him.

Jungkook stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room briefly before landing on you. There was a strange relief in his expression, as if he had been expecting to find you somewhere you shouldn’t be. He smiled, walking over to you, his fingers brushing your cheek as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

"You’re still here. Good girl," he murmured, his voice a mix of affection and possession. "I’m glad you didn’t try anything… disappointing."

You swallowed hard, maintaining the calm facade. "Of course not," you whispered, keeping your tone steady. "I was waiting for you."

His gaze softened, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, like he truly believed this twisted version of love. He sat down next to you, pulling you into his arms, his touch tight yet oddly gentle. "Let’s spend the rest of the evening together, just us," he said quietly, his lips brushing your temple. "I want to enjoy every second with you."

You nodded, leaning into his embrace, knowing that for now, you had no choice but to play along. Each small victory would build toward something bigger, toward an escape.

Suddenly, Jungkook pulled back and grabbed the bowl of food you had prepared from the counter, setting it down next to you. Without a word, he picked up a spoon, his expression calm. He scooped some food from the bowl, and turned toward you with a faint smile.

"You know," he said, his voice dripping with a mixture of amusement and something darker, "I think you need a little help."

Before you could respond, he brought the spoon closer to your lips, his gaze unwavering. "Open up," he commanded softly, his tone leaving no room for refusal.

Your heart raced, instinctively pulling back. "I can feed myself," you protested, but the tremor in your voice betrayed your fear.

“Not today,” he replied, leaning closer, his dark eyes locking onto yours with unsettling intensity. “You’re going to let me feed you.”

“Look at it this way,” he said softly, his fingers brushing the side of your face. “It’s a way for you to make up for your bad behavior from this morning. All is forgiven now.” His tone was almost gentle, as if offering you a gift wrapped in his twisted logic.

Your breath caught in your throat. You knew what he meant, your resistance earlier, your small acts of defiance. They hadn’t gone unnoticed. Every decision you made, every hesitation, was another test to him, and now, by complying, you were wiping the slate clean. At least in his eyes.

You forced yourself to nod, your throat tight. "I’m glad everything’s okay now," you whispered, trying to match his calm tone, though the words felt hollow.

He smiled again, "That’s my girl," he murmured.

"We’ll be fine as long as you keep behaving." He held the spoon near your lips, the savory scent mixing with the rising anxiety in your chest. You felt trapped, the weight of his control suffocating as the desire to resist clashed violently with the fear of what he might do if you refused.

"Just one bite," he urged, his voice deceptively gentle. "That’s all I ask. You might even like it."

You hesitated, the spoon hovering inches from your mouth. His breath brushed your skin, warm and suffocating, and despite every fiber of your being screaming to resist, you reluctantly parted your lips. He fed you the bite, his eyes lighting up with satisfaction as you chewed.

“Good girl,” he praised softly, his voice laced with twisted affection. “See? Not so bad, is it?”

You couldn’t meet his gaze, focusing instead on the way he savored your submission, each bite you took a victory for him. He continued feeding you, the act a power play more than an act of care. “Good girl,” he murmured again, his praise becoming a sickly sweet reminder of how much he enjoyed your obedience.

You swallowed the last bite, but before you could protest, he was already lifting another spoonful to your lips. "No more," you whispered, shaking your head. But he only smiled, unbothered by your plea.

“You’re not done yet,” he replied, his voice still calm but now carrying a subtle warning. “You need to eat. I won’t let you starve yourself.”

Each bite felt like a slow erosion of your autonomy, a surrender to the web of control he had wrapped around you. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he set the spoon down and wiped the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

“There. Good. Now, was that so hard?” he asked, his smile widening, a smug satisfaction radiating from him.

You could barely hold back the bile rising in your throat as he tilted his head, his eyes flashing with something dark and possessive. “Soon, you’ll see things my way.”

__________

The days blurred together in a suffocating routine after that morning. Each day, you played your part, becoming the perfect version of the person Jungkook wanted you to be, feeding into his twisted fantasy of love and control. You adapted, not out of choice, but out of survival, carefully treading the fine line between submission and manipulation.

Jungkook, on the surface, seemed content. Every morning, he’d wake you with soft kisses, his arms tight around you as he whispered promises of love. You’d smile, kiss him back, and play along, even when every touch made your skin crawl. Breakfast was always a quiet ritual, with him feeding you more often than not, his gaze watching your every move, ensuring you didn’t deviate from his expectations.

In the afternoons, he’d insist on spending time together, whether it was watching TV or simply lounging around. His arms were always around you, his touch never far. It was smothering, but you endured it, knowing that resistance would only tighten his grip. You began to flatter him, giving him small, calculated compliments, making him believe that you were starting to see things his way. Each word was carefully crafted, designed to earn his trust, to keep him from suspecting that behind your compliance was a growing determination to escape.

You started doing more for him, small acts of care that fed into his obsession. You made his favorite meals, dressed in clothes he picked out for you, and even initiated moments of affection, all while hiding the fear and anger that simmered beneath the surface. You needed him to believe you were falling in line, that you were happy, even when the chains around you grew tighter every day.

And he did believe it. The more you played into his fantasy, the more he relaxed. He started leaving you alone for short periods, his possessiveness loosening just enough to give you moments of freedom. But even then, you knew he was watching. There were cameras, there had to be. You could feel his presence, even when he wasn’t there.

Yet, despite the facade you maintained, the anger inside you grew. Every time he praised you for being his "good girl," every time he fed you like a child or held you too tight, it fueled the fire burning in your chest. You hated how easily he controlled your life, how he believed you were his to command.

But you also knew that anger wasn’t enough. If you were going to escape, you had to be smart. You needed to play the long game, to lull him into a sense of security. Every smile, every affectionate word, was a brick in the wall you were building between you and his suspicions. Slowly, carefully, you were laying the groundwork for your escape.

As the days passed, Jungkook grew more comfortable with your “submission.” He praised you often, told you how proud he was of how you were “adjusting” to his love. Each time he said it, your heart twisted, but you forced a smile, knowing that it was part of the plan. The more he believed in your compliance, the more likely he was to slip, to give you the opening you needed.

But for now, you remain trapped in the routine, your every move calculated, your words carefully chosen. The slivers of freedom he gave you were small, but they were enough for now. You knew that eventually, the trust you were building would be your key to escape. It had to be.

You sat on the couch, curled up under a soft blanket, your legs stretched out across Jungkook’s lap. He was working, as he often did these days, typing on his laptop with one hand while absentmindedly rubbing your feet and calf with the other. The quiet sound of his fingers on the keyboard and the gentle pressure of his touch were strangely soothing, but the tension in your chest refused to ease.

Your book, Gone Girl, lay open in your lap. It had been months since you’d had time to read for pleasure, back when your life was a whirlwind of school and juggling two jobs. Now, though, things were different. Your days were long, filled with a strange mixture of peace and suffocation, where the boundaries of control and submission were constantly shifting.

Jungkook had been working from home more often lately, his gaze flicking between you and his computer screen. He liked having you near, a constant presence that fed into his need to know where you were, what you were doing, at all times. You had grown accustomed to it, the way he monitored your movements even when his attention seemed elsewhere. But tonight, something was different. Maybe it was the quiet, or maybe it was the fact that he'd been in a particularly good mood recently, satisfied with how you were behaving.

You glanced at him over the top of your book, the glow of his laptop reflecting off his features. He looked calm, focused on his work. Now felt like the right time to bring it up. You’d been absent from school for weeks, your professors likely wondering where you had gone. But more importantly, your final exam was approaching. If you missed it, you wouldn’t pass the course you've fought sleepless for.

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. It wasn’t that you were afraid of asking, Jungkook rarely reacted harshly to your questions, but the idea of returning to school, even for an exam, meant the possibility of freedom. And you knew how he felt about that.

Still, you had to try.

“Babe,” you said softly, trying to keep your tone light and casual, “I’ve been thinking about school.”

His fingers paused on your leg, just for a second, before continuing their gentle massage. His eyes remained fixed on his screen, though you knew he was listening intently.

“What about school?” he asked, his tone even, though you sensed a hint of curiosity beneath it.

“I’ve been gone for a while now,” you continued carefully. “I still need to take my final exams at the end of the month if I want to graduate.”

There was a brief silence, the sound of his typing slowing to a stop. He finally looked at you, his dark eyes scanning your face as if trying to gauge your intentions.

“I thought we talked about this,” he said quietly, his hand tightening slightly around your calf. “School isn’t something you need to worry about anymore. You’re with me now.”

You swallowed, forcing yourself to stay calm. You couldn’t afford to push too hard. “I know, but graduating is important to me. It’s something I worked really hard for, and I just need one more year before I graduate. After that, I’ll be done.”

Jungkook’s expression didn’t change, but his grip on your leg remained firm. He seemed to consider your words, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the request. You could see the wheels turning in his mind, weighing the risk of letting you out of his sight, even for something as seemingly harmless as an exam.

“I don’t like the idea of you going back there,” he said finally, his voice soft but edged with tension. “Too many people. Too many distractions.”

“I’ll only go for the exam,” you promised, your voice gentle but firm. “I won’t stay longer than I need to. Just in and out. You can even drop me off and pick me up, if that makes you feel better.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his thumb idly rubbing small circles on your ankle. You could see the conflict in his eyes, his desire to give you what you wanted clashing with his need to control every aspect of your life.

Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll think about it,” he said, his voice a little more relaxed. “But I don’t want you getting any ideas. You know how much I care about you.”

“I know,” you whispered, relief washing over you even as a knot of anxiety twisted in your stomach. You had planted the seed. Now you just had to hope it would grow into an opportunity, one that you could use to finally reclaim a piece of your freedom.

__________

Three days had passed since that conversation, and the knot in your stomach had only tightened. The exam was fast approaching, and you could feel the weight of it looming over you, just as much as the constant, watchful presence of Jungkook. He hadn’t brought it up again, and you were too afraid to push the topic further just yet. But the clock was ticking, and you knew that soon, you’d have to.

Jungkook had been busier than usual lately, ever since his father passed away. The responsibilities that came with running the family business had doubled, and you could see the strain in his face, in the way he carried himself. He spent hours in his office, buried in paperwork, his attention consumed by the demands of the company.

You sat on the armchair in the corner of his office, reading the book in your lap, though you hadn’t turned a page in the past thirty minutes. Instead, your eyes kept drifting toward him, watching the focused look on his face as he scribbled notes or typed away at his computer. The tension in the room was palpable, even though neither of you had said a word for the last hour.

Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair, the fatigue clear in his movements. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples, clearly feeling the pressure of everything on his shoulders. You knew he hated being questioned or distracted when he was like this, but you couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Jungkook,” you said softly, careful to keep your tone gentle.

He didn’t look up right away, but you saw the slight tightening of his jaw, a telltale sign that he had heard you. After a moment, he placed his pen down and finally met your gaze.

“What is it sweetheart?” he asked, his voice calm but edged with exhaustion.

You swallowed hard, trying to gather your courage. “I know you’ve been thinking about it… and I appreciate it. But the exam is only a few days away. I really need to know what we’re going to do.”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened slightly, but his expression remained controlled. “You don’t need to worry about the exam. You don’t need school anymore. I’m taking care of everything.”

You bit your lip, feeling the familiar frustration bubbling up inside you. “But I’ve worked so hard for this. I need to graduate, Jungkook. I can’t just... quit. You said you’d think about it.”

He let out a long breath, standing up and walking around his desk to where you sat. His eyes softened, but it didn’t comfort you. Instead, it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Princess,” he said gently, reaching out to cup your cheek, “I understand that this is important to you. But you don’t need that degree. You have me. I’ll take care of you. You don’t need to go back to that life.”

You pulled away slightly, shaking your head. “That’s not the point. I want to finish this. It’s something I’ve worked for.”

His gaze hardened, just a fraction, but enough for you to notice. “You need to stop thinking about what you want,” he said, his voice firm. “This is what’s best for you. Trust me.”

Your chest tightened as you looked at him, your frustration turning into something sharper, something closer to anger. You had done everything he asked. You had been patient, played the role of the compliant partner, all for this one moment of freedom. And now, he was taking that away too.

“I’ve been patient,” you said, your voice shaking with barely-contained frustration. “I’ve done everything you wanted. But you promised. You said you’d think about it.”

Jungkook’s expression remained unbothered, as though your words had no effect on him. “I did think about it,” he said, his voice cold. “And I’ve decided. You’re not going back to school. You’re staying here, where you belong.” He turned his back to you, walking back to his desk.

That was it. That was the moment everything broke.

Before you even had time to process the fury building inside you, your eyes locked onto the vase on the table next to the armchair. Your mind screamed at you to stop, but your body moved before you could think. In one swift motion, you grabbed the vase, the weight of it grounding you for just a split second before you swung it at him.

The vase hit him on the side of the head with a sickening crack.

Jungkook collapsed to the floor with a groan, his hand flying to his head as he struggled to process what had just happened. Blood seeped through his fingers, and his eyes flickered with shock as he looked up at you.

“Princess…” he rasped, his voice hoarse with confusion and disbelief. “What... what did you-”

You ran.

You bolted for the door, your heart pounding in your chest as you sprinted down the hallway, your mind a whirlwind of panic and adrenaline. The front door to the penthouse was open, a careless mistake on his part, a sliver of luck for you. You didn’t care about anything else anymore. You didn’t care about his control, or even the fear of what he would do if he caught you.

All you wanted was out. Out of this suffocating place, out of this twisted prison he had built around you.

Out of him.

You bolted for the door, heart pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears. The vase clattered to the floor behind you as you sprinted toward the elevator, your breath coming in shallow gasps. You didn’t think, there was no time for thinking. You just knew you had to get out.

The hallway blurred as you ran, adrenaline surging through your veins. The elevator doors were open, another moment of luck in a twisted series of events. You threw yourself inside, slamming your hand against the button to close the doors as fast as possible.

The elevator doors slid shut with a quiet hum, sealing you inside. Your hands trembled as you pressed the button for the lobby, willing the elevator to move faster. You had no idea how long it would take for Jungkook to recover, but you knew it wouldn’t be long before he came after you.

As the elevator descended, your chest tightened, each floor feeling like an eternity. You pressed yourself into the corner of the elevator, your whole body shaking as you tried to catch your breath. The reality of what you’d just done hit you all at once, crashing over you like a wave.

You hit him.

You hit Jungkook.

But you didn’t regret it. You couldn’t regret it. Not after everything he had done, keeping you trapped, controlling every part of your life.

You closed your eyes, feeling tears sting at the edges, but you fought them back. You didn’t have time to break down now. The elevator dinged softly as it reached the lobby, and you wiped your eyes quickly, forcing yourself to focus. The doors slid open, revealing the bright lights of the ground floor.

Freedom.

You stepped out, your legs weak beneath you, but you forced yourself to keep moving. People were walking past you in the lobby, completely unaware of the storm you had just escaped from upstairs.

You had no plan, no phone, no money. Still, all that mattered was that you were out. Away from him.

And you weren’t going back.

You burst through the doors of the lobby and into the night, your legs carrying you without direction, just away. Away from Jungkook, away from the suffocating control, away from the penthouse that had been your prison for far too long. You ran blindly through the city streets, heart racing, breath shallow, your feet slamming against the pavement with each desperate step. The cool night air whipped against your face, but it did little to clear the panic clouding your mind.

You couldn’t stop. You couldn’t ask for help. Who would believe you? He was Jeon fucking Jungkook, one of the richest, one of the most powerful men. If you went to the authorities, they’d likely send you straight back to him. Money bought silence, it bought control, and you knew better than anyone just how tightly he held that control.

You needed to disappear. To vanish completely until he couldn’t find you, until he finally gave up. But how??

The thought of going back, of being caught, terrified you more than anything. You needed help. You needed money. That’s when you remembered the necklace hanging around your neck, the one Jungkook had given you. It was expensive, something rare and exclusive, probably worth a fortune. Maybe you could sell it, use the cash to disappear for a little while.

But first, you needed a place to stay. Somewhere safe, at least for the night. Your parents lived too far away. You couldn’t risk reaching out to them, not yet. The only person you could think of was Bora. Sweet, dependable Bora. She had always been there for you, and maybe, just maybe she’d still help you now.

But could you risk getting her involved? If Jungkook found out she helped you, she could get caught in the crossfire. The thought gnawed at you, but you didn’t have many options. Bora worked at the strip club, usually at this time of night. Maybe you could swing by, ask for some quick cash, and move on before Jungkook even had a chance to realize where you’d gone.

You stopped in your tracks, panting, your lungs burning from the nonstop sprint through the city. You bent over, hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath. “Breathe”, you told yourself. “Just breathe”.

As you straightened up, your eyes caught something pinned to a streetlight nearby. An old, wrinkled poster. Something familiar.

You took a step closer, squinting under the dim streetlight. The faded ink became clearer. It was a missing person report. Your missing person report. Your own face stared back at you, a photo from what felt like a lifetime ago.

Beneath your name, someone had scribbled something in jagged handwriting.

Rest in peace Angel.

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Cold realization washed over you. I’m dead. Jungkook made sure of it.

The world tilted for a moment as the weight of what he had done finally hit you. Everyone thought you were gone, your family, your friends, anyone who might’ve come looking for you. They had already mourned you, accepted your death. No one was looking for you anymore. As far as the world was concerned, you didn’t exist.

He had erased you.

You staggered back, the noise of the city fading as you stared at the poster, at the brutal, final words scribbled beneath your name. Jungkook had planned this all along, trapping you in his world, and now, even if you ran, you had no identity to run with.

But you had to run. And you had to survive. You had to find Bora, get enough money to keep moving. The thought of stopping, of letting him catch up to you, was unbearable.

You glanced around, panic rising again, your heart pounding louder than ever. The clock was ticking. You had to go.

You slowed down, heart still racing, trying to steady your breath as you kept moving toward the back of the club. The line stretched on, men jostling for position, but you weren’t going through the front. The bouncers, tall, muscular figures with sunglasses even at night, stood like sentinels at the door, arms crossed, keeping watch over the chaos.

God, you hated this place. The memories here were bitter, nights spent working, enduring the leering stares, the unwanted touches, the crude jokes. But now, this was the only place you could turn to. The only person you had left was inside.

You slipped down the alley, the familiar route you used to take when you worked here. The scent of cigarette smoke and alcohol clung to the air, a sharp contrast to the cool breeze brushing against your flushed skin.

You kept your head down, weaving through the crowd toward the back of the building. There was a secret door in the back, hidden from the public, where the staff would slip in and out during shifts. You didn’t have your key anymore, of course, but you remembered the routine. Girls always came out for smoke breaks here.

Your breath hitched as you reached for the door handle, hoping to slip in quietly, unnoticed. But before you could even touch it, the door swung open.

You stumbled back, heart leaping into your throat.

“Oh my god,” a voice muttered, and your eyes shot up to see one of the dancers, Sana, one of the regulars, blinking at you in surprise. She was dressed in her stage outfit, cigarette in hand, her eyes wide as she took you in.

“What the hell...?” she asked, her eyes narrowing in confusion. “Wait... is that-is that really you?”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you grabbed her wrist, pulling her out of the doorway just enough to slip inside, keeping your face hidden as much as you could.

“Sana, I-I need to see Bora,” you whispered, your voice shaky and desperate. “Is she here tonight?”

Sana stared at you, her expression caught between disbelief and alarm. "Wait, wait, hold on-what's going on? You-you're supposed to be-"

“I know,” you cut her off, your voice urgent. “I can’t explain right now. Just... please. I need to see her.”

Sana hesitated for a moment, clearly confused, but then nodded slowly. “She’s inside, on stage. She should be finishing up soon.”

Relief surged through you, though it was mixed with the familiar dread of being in this place again. “Thank you,” you muttered before slipping past her and into the dimly lit hallway.

The familiar thrum of music filled your ears as you made your way down the narrow corridor, past the lockers and dressing rooms. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, perfume, and alcohol, and you could hear the muffled cheers of the crowd beyond the main stage.

You hovered near the dressing rooms, hiding in the shadows, waiting for Bora’s set to finish. Your heart raced with every second that passed, the fear that Jungkook might somehow track you here gnawing at you. You had no idea how much time you had before he realized you were gone, before he started searching.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally saw Bora walking off the stage, her usual confidence dimmed by exhaustion. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and glanced around, heading toward the dressing room. You stepped out from the shadows, your hands trembling.

"Bora."

Her head whipped around at the sound of your voice, her eyes widening as they landed on you. She froze, her face going pale. "Angel... You're-"

"I'm alive," you whispered, stepping closer. "But I need your help. Please, Bora, I don't have much time."

Her eyes darted around the room, panic flashing across her face as she processed the situation. She grabbed your arm, pulling you into the dressing room and slamming the door behind you. "What the hell happened to you? We all thought... we thought you were gone! A body, they found a body-everyone thinks you're dead!"

"I know," you whispered, your voice cracking. "It was Jungkook. He made it look like I was dead. I-I just escaped from him."

Bora's expression shifted from shock to anger. "That bastard. I knew something was off with him. But why come here? If he knows you're here, he's going to come after you. This place isn't safe!"

"I know, but I had nowhere else to go. I need money. I need to disappear, Bora."

She stared at you for a long moment, clearly torn between fear and the instinct to help you. Finally, she nodded, grabbing her purse from the counter. "Okay, okay... I’ll give you whatever cash I have on me. But you can’t stay here. He’ll find you."

You exhaled a shaky breath as she handed you a wad of bills. "Thank you. I won't stay long. I just need a head start."

Bora's eyes softened with concern as she stuffed more money into your hand. "You need to get far away from here. As far as you can."

You nodded, your hands trembling as you stuffed the cash into your pockets. "I will."

But even as you said the words, the lingering fear gnawed at you. How far could you really run from someone like Jungkook?

Bora’s eyes softened as she looked at you, the weight of everything hanging in the air between you. Before you could say anything else, she pulled you into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around you in a way that made your chest tighten with emotion.

“Please be safe,” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the muffled music from the club.

You held on to her for a moment longer, your own arms squeezing her back. It had been so long since anyone had hugged you like that—since anyone had shown you kindness without control attached to it. You blinked back the tears that threatened to spill, knowing you didn’t have time to break down. Not here. Not now.

“I’ll try,” you whispered back, your voice shaky. “Thank you, Bora. For everything.”

She pulled back, her hands lingering on your arms for a second before she let you go. “Don’t come back here. Don’t let him find you,” she said, her voice fierce but laced with worry. “Disappear. For good.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “I will.”

Before you could make your way toward the door, Bora grabbed your arm again, her eyes scanning you up and down. “Wait,” she said firmly. “You can’t go out there like this. He’ll recognize you immediately. Everyone will.”

You looked down at yourself, your clothes, they were from a life Jungkook had tailored for you, a life that you needed to shed to blend in, to disappear.

Bora was already moving, digging through her locker and pulling out a simple, dark outfit, one she usually wears going to work and back. “Here,” she said, shoving the clothes into your arms. “Change into this. It'll make it harder for anyone to spot you. Hurry. We don’t have much time.”

Without another word, you quickly pulled off your old clothes and slipped into Bora’s outfit. A dark pair of jeans, with a loose black hoodie and a warm black warm coat. It smelled a lot of perfume. You tied your hair back, glancing at yourself in the mirror.

Bora handed you a cap, adding the finishing touch. “There.” she said, a small, sad smile on her lips.

You gave her a grateful look, feeling your throat tighten. “Thank you,” you whispered again.

Bora pulled you in for another quick, tight hug. “Get out of here, okay? And don’t come back,” she repeated, her voice low and urgent. “He won’t stop if he finds out.”

You nodded, heart pounding as you finished dressing. “I won’t. I promise.”

With that, you headed toward the back exit.

You had to keep moving. You couldn’t afford to stop.

You pulled the hoodie tightly over your cap, tucking your hair beneath the fabric as you prepared to leave. Your mind raced with one thought: you needed to find a motel. Just for the night, somewhere to lie low until you could sell the necklace.

Pushing open the back door, you stepped into the cool night air, but before you could take another step, a hand grabbed your arm roughly, slamming you against the brick wall of the alley.

"Where are you off to?" a low voice growled, eyes narrowing at you.

"You're not Bora."

You froze, the shock rendering you speechless. The world blurred around you as you stared at the man who had pinned you. Panic surged through your veins until recognition hit you like a punch to the gut.

Jeong Jaehyun.

One of Jungkook’s closest friends.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you kept your head down, desperately trying to hide your face. "No... I’m not," you mumbled quickly, trying to keep your voice steady. "I’m her friend. I wasn’t feeling well, so I was sent home."

Jaehyun’s eyes raked over you, suspicion flickering across his features. "You look familiar," he said slowly, his grip tightening for a brief moment.

Your stomach lurched, but you forced a tight smile. "Yeah, well... I work here. Probably seen me around. I really have to go now," you said, your voice barely masking the fear.

You slipped away from his grip, pulling the hoodie tighter around your face, praying he wouldn’t connect the dots.

"Wait-"

Before he could stop you, another voice called out from behind him.

"Jaehyun! Where the hell are you, man? What are you doing back here?"

A distraction.

Without wasting another second, you pushed the door open wide and bolted, your feet slamming against the pavement as you ran down the alley. You could hear Jaehyun calling out behind you, but you didn’t look back.

You couldn’t catch a break. Every time you thought you were one step ahead, something or someone dragged you right back into it.

__________

Jungkook blinked, his vision swimming as the sharp pain in his head brought him back to the present. His fingers grazed the spot where the vase had hit him, and the warm trickle of blood running down his temple stung, but it wasn’t the pain that consumed him, it was the realization.

She hit me.

His princess, the one he had carefully protected, sheltered, loved, had just hit him and ran. The one he thought had finally understood their connection, their bond. She had betrayed him, and now she was gone.

He staggered to his feet, his breath coming in sharp bursts. The penthouse felt unnervingly quiet, the door slightly ajar, the echoes of her departure lingering like a slap to his face.

She ran.

The thought sent a fresh wave of fury through him. After everything he’d done for her, how he had protected her, made her feel safe, cared for her in ways no one else ever could, and she had the nerve to run?

His fist slammed against the wall, the plaster cracking under the pressure. His vision blurred, clouded by the dark haze of his anger. She thought she could escape him? That she could leave him after everything?

No.

She was his. She belonged to him, and she would always belong to him.

Jungkook stood still for a moment, letting the anger settle into something colder, more focused. He wiped the blood from his knuckles, smearing it across his fingertips before casually brushing it away. His mind was already racing through the next steps.

No matter how much he loved her, no matter how well he treated her, the thought of escape might flicker in her mind. But he had prepared for that. He wasn’t that naive. He wasn’t stupid.

In fact, he had been two steps ahead of her the entire time.

Jungkook reached into his desk drawer, his fingers brushing past papers and folders until he found what he was looking for- a small black device, barely larger than a key fob. He turned it over in his hand, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he thumbed the button on its side.

The tracker.

Weeks ago, when he’d first brought her into his world, he had planted a small tracking chip under her skin. A simple procedure. Harmless, unnoticed. She had no idea, of course. It was for her safety, for their safety. He couldn’t risk losing her.

The tiny chip, embedded beneath her skin in a place she would never think to check, allowed him to always know where she was. It was a precaution, one he had hoped he’d never need to use. But now? Now it was time to activate it.

Jungkook pressed the button on the device, watching as the screen lit up, a small blinking dot appearing on the map. He watched the blinking dot on the tracker screen, his expression calm, almost serene. She was running, heart pounding, mind probably racing with thoughts of escape. She thought she had outsmarted him, thought she had finally broken free.

Let her think that.

His fingers lightly traced over the small red dot on the screen, his smile widening. He could go after her now, catch her within the hour. But where was the fun in that? Where was the lesson? No, she needed to feel the weight of her decision, the consequences of trying to leave him. She needed to believe that freedom was within her reach, only to have it yanked away when he decided the time was right.

This wasn’t just about finding her. It was about showing her that she had never truly escaped. That she could run, hide, try to slip away into the cracks of the city, but he would always know where she was. Because she was his, and nothing could change that.

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing on the blinking dot that represented her. He’d give her time, just enough to think she’d won. Let her scramble, desperate and afraid. Let her believe that she was outsmarting him, that she had carved out a sliver of freedom.

But in reality, she was playing a game where the rules had already been set, and he held all the pieces.

He could wait. After all, the longer she thought she was free, the sweeter it would be when he finally pulled her back into his world.

Let her run. Let her think she had won.

But when he decided it was time—he’d make sure she knew that freedom had never really been hers to take.

Jungkook wiped the blood from his temple, his head still throbbing from the blow, but his lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile.

“Run all you want, Princess,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low and venomous, his fingers tightening around the edge of the desk as he steadied himself.

“I’ll always find you.”

#bts fanfic #white pearl #jungkook yandere fanfiction #yandere bts #bts yandere #bts fanfction #bts jungkook #bts jungkook fanfic #bts fanfiction #silver pearl #pearl series

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hoshigray · 6 months ago

Text

based on this old req ask!! sorry it took a while, but glad i got to it :3

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna x fem concubine! reader - SFW yet a tiny bit suggestive; proceed with caution - bullying/mistreatment - fluff! - kissing - hickeys + biting - pet names ([little] dove, good girl, pet, woman) - sukuna lowkey treasures you, aww - implied scratching - mention of assault/abuse.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4k

“…Speak.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.” The four crimson-eyed narrows his gaze, and you gulp thickly. “What’s occupying your thoughts?”

When your cursed giant of a husband asks–more like commands– you to speak your mind, you’re expected to comply, of course, however, the thing that clouds your mind isn’t something that the King of Curses should concern himself with; it’s a matter for you to deal with.

It’s a matter you must bear alone…because it’s about you.

“Ugh, it’s you. Get out of my sight.”

“You! How dare you come in between me and Lord Sukuna?! Are you that desperate? Unbelievable.”

“Ignominous wench. Know your place, you lower-class concubine.”

No man with many mistresses in a palace can say he has no favorite—it’s impossible. You, a lower-ranked concubine amongst the many that serve for Ryōmen Sukuna, are his most valuable mistress. He never said it himself, using his actions to speak for himself. You are the one who mostly beds him when he seeks company, the one who attends to his walks around the palace gardens, the one he speaks to as acquaintances, and -in the rare times when he feels like it- will send you a gift or request you be with him during his audiences.

You also don’t say anything, not wanting to overstep boundaries or speak for your master. And yet, your heart can’t deny the feelings you experience when the tall behemoth chooses to spend time with you, whether for private services or trespassing your personal chambers to nap on your lap as he wishes. Down to your very soul, you knew you were his most favorite.

“Greedy whore; can’t keep your hands off him for a second, huh? You have no right.”

“What? You can’t possibly think you are his favorite; you might as well change from a concubine to a clown.”

But, it is not a sentiment shared amongst the other women under Sukuna’s wing. Some women have been servicing the master longer than you have, some of whom come from affluent names and take their jobs seriously with pride. So, you can’t find it in your heart to blame them for despising you—a lowborn who effortlessly gains the lord’s favor? You were a sight to their eyes; no wonder they had to step in and demand you to stay in your lane.

You honestly can’t argue with their philosophy; you’d probably be doing the same had you been in their positions instead. Nonetheless, you’re much of a concubine like the rest, and Sukuna finding comfort in your presence is a fact only a fool would discredit. And a fool you were not. To question your work ethic only made you silently agitated, your stomach knotting itself in dread.

“Dove.”

And nearly has you forget where you are right now, straddling Sukuna on his massive frame. His lower hands hold you by the thighs, the tongue of his stomach teasing your elbow with an inquiring lick, and his upper right hand brushing your cheek to remind you of the current moment. He’s still awaiting your answer, and it would be foolish not to respect his time—especially on the tiny occurrence he’s asking worrying about you.

“My apologies, Lord Sukuna,” you smile and lean to his hand, his palm easily gulfing the size of your face. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Hmph, so now you lie?” His thumb grazes your skin. “If it were nothing, I wouldn’t have asked.”

“Yes, you are right, my Lord,” your hand rubs on his upper abdomen; the pleasant rumble from his stomach is a purr. “But you don’t have to worry; I don’t wish to bother you with my troubles.”

Maroon eyes scan your expression before he holds your chin and brings his face closer to yours. His upper left hand ever-so-slowly slid your hadajuban down along your kimono. “What makes you think you can say your troubles will bother me? That’s for me to decide, which is why I ask.”

“My Lord, please—“

“Woman,” a quick twitch on your chin silences you–a warning. “I won’t ask again. Speak to me, or I’ll leave because I won’t waste my time here when you’re thinking of something or someone else—“

“N-No,” you’re quick to reassure, your hands finding his chest. “Forgive my reluctance, my King,” you sigh deeply as the giant returns to his relaxed state, and you finally tell him of your growing concern. He listens to every word, not forming a reaction until you’ve spoken till the very last point. Then, he speaks.

“Tch, those insolent women,” he sucks his teeth, and the grip on your thighs gets tighter. “And you, how can you let the words of others dictate your value to me; they aren’t me, so they don’t speak for me when it comes to you.”

That’s why I said it wasn’t a matter for you to worry about… “Forgive me, Sukuna,” your eyes widen; you forgot to address his title and spoke informally. You avoided his gaze after seeing his grin and hearing his snigger. A speck of humiliation coincides with the heat of your cheeks; you’re sure he’d feel it, too, as his fore and middle fingers brush your cheek. “It’s just….I don’t ridicule them for seeing me as a threat, as we are all meant to serve you. Regardless, I…pardon my selfishness, but it’s not fair that I should back down and reject your wishes simply because they don’t like it. Again, our purpose in this palace is to serve you, and all the other mistresses have just as much a right to want to be of use to you. Yet,” you chew your lip before saying the following words. “…I wish to be in your favor for as long as possible.”

The sole-slitted salmon eyebrow rises, examining your figure at his pace as the silence makes you uneasy. Then, with no warning in Sukuna fashion, strong cursed hands have you maneuvered, taking his place with your back to the futon. It takes a second to process until you find your master propped above you, his broad frame shadowing yours. Your breath hitches as he brings his face closer.

“Would you be fine if I go accompany someone else?” Your warmth shifts cold when he asks.

“No, my Lord.”

“And why is that?”

“Because…you’re here with me now.”

“Right, because I’m not interested in being with anyone else right now. Whoever I see is for me to decide, and if I wish to see you the most,” he bends closer, and the tip of his nose meets yours. He whispers, “then that’s for me to criticize. Those who think otherwise are not worth my time, right?” You nod; he is pleased. He inches near, “So, I don’t want you thinking about this or anyone else, not while I’m here. Understood?”

“Yes, Master Sukuna…”

“Good girl,” his lips meet yours for a soft kiss, your whimper prompting him to peck more. Instinctually, your legs spread for him to come between, and your hands come to cup his face as you return his kisses with merit.

Moans are exchanged as the kiss becomes more indecent; Sukuna shoves his tongue inside once you open your mouth for him, and you happily accept him with compliant whines and swirls of your own wet muscle for him to tease and nibble. Your lower half begins to buck subtly without your knowledge, reciprocated with humps from Sukuna.

Sucking on your tongue has you wailing, feeding more to the cursed man’s ego. You wrap your legs around him, the tongue of his stomach venturing out to lick your first layer of robe that serves as an irritating barrier. It pushes the flap to the side, finally greeting the skin of your tummy with laggard laps.

You break the kiss, and he snickers, bringing his lips to your neck and collar to suck on and bite. You sob softly, the sound only humoring the giant. “Mine,” he nibbles on your neck again. “My little dove…”

His lower right hand glides from your leg and ventures to your hadajuban, sliding between the flaps to touch and grope the flesh of your inner thigh.

You almost sink into the sensation of being touched so delicately, yet engulfed by his massiveness. Then, something hits you, and Sukuna is shocked by the sudden push of his chest. “Wait, my Lord,” you start before he can interrogate. “Pardon me, but I…have a request I would like you to hear before we continue. May I?”

He doesn’t reply; you’re wary of moving a limb. But after a brief silence, he says, “Go on.”

You wish to exhale in relief, but you save it for later. “May I please mark you?”

Of course, the man tilts back with a scowl. “Mark me?”

“Marking, like how you bite and leave hickeys on my skin.”

“And give me a good reason why I’d let you mark me?”

You were treading towards a different wave, a boundary that isn’t typically meant to be stepped over when dealing with Sukuna. And yet you still plead your case: “You leave your marks on me to remind me that I am yours and yours alone, yes?” He huffs in confirmation. “I wish to do the same to you and—“

“Who said I belonged to you?”

“I don’t want to do it to make it appear like that.” Another huff from him. “The other mistresses have yet to ever leave such prints on you as they wouldn’t dare. And yet those same people come to me and chastise me for spending my leisure with you. So, I wish to leave my mark on you to establish my standing, that I shouldn’t be belittled just for gaining most of your favor.”

Sukuna scoffs. “So you want to use me to show off?”

You nod. “Only if you allow it, my Lord.”

There was another brief silence between you two; four red eyes honed on yours. “One condition,” he begins. “To leave your mark on me entails you are irrefutably mine, meaning you are my thing to play and destroy and no one else’s. Mark anyone else, and you better hope I lean to leaving more permanent bites and features rather than having you dead and staining the garden.”

A promise you know better than to push aside. “I expect nothing less from my master if I were stupid enough to ever forget that.” You nod while stroking his cheek with your palm. “Until you cast me away, I am solely yours.”

He grins, kissing and faintly chewing your palm. “Fine, scratch and mark away, pet.” His lips come to yours once more, and you have no desire to stop him this time.

SLAP!!

“Fucking bitch, how dare you?!”

“You really have no shame; what the hell is wrong with you?”

The next day was much more intriguing, especially your subsequent encounter with two other concubines. Including the stinging feeling on your cheek, the altercation became more physical. The scales were tipped, and they had enough, voicing their vexation on this fine day outside the engawa strip.

One grabbed you by the kimono, her teeth gritted with anger. “What a third-rate whore. What kind of concubine doesn’t bother concealing their hickeys? “

The other woman clicks her teeth. “Do you think we want to know your business as you stride these hallways? Are you trying to get killed?”

Usually, after your nights with Sukuna, you’d ensure every mark possibly present to the naked eye was concealed. However, today was different; the hickeys of your neck were visible for everyone to see.

“I’m sorry,” but you weren’t; just saying words for show. “I must have forgotten.”

They did not like your answer. The one yanking your clothing struck your cheek again. “Forgotten, my ass!”

“Don’t you dare act smart with us,” The other woman yanks you by the ear, but you don’t make a sound. “Trash like you should relearn some basic manners and etiquette.”

And who said you were the ones to teach me said lessons? “With all due respect, Tenth and Twelfth Mistress,” the women glare at the mention of their titles from your voice. “I don’t see myself taking your advice when you two aren’t even placed in the top five standings.”

A hand is raised to strike again. “Why you—“

“Swing that hand, and you will lose it.”

Three pairs of eyes move to the colossal figure coming from the hallway’s darkness. Sukuna, the observer to the entire entourage, tailed with subordinate Uraume right behind him. Your eyes flicker to the trembling hand gripping your clothes; anyone would be a fool not to be scared of the tall man staring daggers at them.

Sukuna bares his teeth. “One second to let go of them, or your hands will be sliced off.” They obeyed halfway into that statement, moving to the side of the wall to fetal bow as thunderous steps came near.

“Forgive us, Lord Sukuna!” Apologies fly out instantly, and heads burrowed in shame in the back of their palms. Seeing such agitation towards you transition to utter fear in seconds—how interesting.

The pink-haired curse stops before you, yet his eyes are locked on the two bowing. “Lift your heads.” The women do as they’re told, their expressions displaying nothing short of horror. Sukuna wore his casual attire, a black yukata robe with his chest proudly peaking out, all four arms crossed to shield his torso.

However, what contrasts the most is what catches your eyes and the other concubines. The window of his chest showcases a mark that contrasts the color of his skin, situated right below the collarbone of his right pectoral—a hickey out for you three to see. Unknown to the women, there were more markings that were shielded from his clothing—scratches from your nails exist on his back and tiny bite marks on his hidden shoulders. But those were facts only meant for you to know.

“For how many times you hit this one,” his arms unscrew from each other for his left hands to bring you close to him. “Will be the how many scars I’ll leave on those faces of yours.” The shudder of the women is noticed. “Know your place.”

And with that, Sukuna doesn’t allow you to dismiss yourself from the scene. He leads you with him, walking further down the engawa hall. Uraume follows you both, giving the women a short look as they stride.

You don’t say anything; just strolling to where your master will take you. Because you know he will be there wherever you go—away from the women or anyone to strike you, for only his hands were meant to touch you.

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queenpiranhadon · 7 months ago

Text

A/N: Was missing my baby so I decided to type this up <3 Here's the masterlist!

Warning(s): Katsuki’s down bad but to be fair, so are you lol, you’ve been married for over a year, you two live together, pre-established relationship, anti social Katsuki, you have a lot of Dynamight merch, Katsuki publically simps for you <3, f!reader, Katsuki refers to you as his wife and vice versa, reader’s a little childish lol

Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

•────•°•❀•°•──── ᴛᴇᴅᴅʏ ʙᴇᴀʀ ────•°•☁︎•°•────•

It's no surprise that Bakugou loves to talk about you, his pretty wife.

Ever since the two of you got married, the public could definitely see the impact you had on him- even though you didn't come fully public with your marriage. He's kinder now, softer in a way, still the powerful hero he used to be, if not even stronger, but he's not the same person who flips off a camera once paparazzi flock to him after a mission.

Instead he gives a slight nod of acknowledgement before moving on- he had places to be.

Places being back home, to you, in your awaiting arms, where you would greet him with a smile that could heal the world of its sins if it wanted to, a smile that to him, was the purest and most beautiful thing in the world.

Bakugou Katsuki wasn't a man who truly believed someone was better than him, having enough confidence in himself to become was he was not with enough determination, but you...

You were his heaven, his haven, his home. You were the sun and the moon, and land and the sea, everything beautiful in the world, it was you.

And the whole world could tell. Probably even extra terrestrial species on other galaxies.

Well, everyone but you.

You, being the absolute angel you are, didn't think of yourself that way. You were just… you - trying to achieve your goals and have a happy life, alongside your Katsuki, who you'd support no matter what, and him, you.

You knew Katsuki loved you, of course you did- though the blonde wasn't well versed when it came to expressing his feelings through words, he was more than adequate in showing it through his actions instead.

You probably wouldn't be able to even comprehend the amount of love Katsuki held in his heart for you.

Until one special night that is.

Katsuki's been invited to one of your favorite talk shows, and after a lot of convincing ( read: pleading ) he gave in. He couldn't say no to you anyways.

Katsuki had left for the filming a while ago, leaving you to deck out in your limited edition Dynamight merch while turning on the TV to watch your husband.

The familiar opening plays and you see the set of the show you always loved to watch- pride warming your heart as you see your beloved on the screen.

"Live from Tokyo, it's your host, Seiko Nishimura and tonight, we're here with the only and only, Pro Hero Dynamight!- also known as Bakugou Katsuki."

Your husband nods, and mumbles out a "Thanks for havin' me." and you feel your heart melt at his adorable attempt to be social on camera.

Seiko grins, and turns to her stack on notecards nodding to the audience. "Well, I've got a set of questions from the audience all around the world! And we've got a lot, so let's get right to it!"

The night goes on smoothly enough, with Katsuki answering questions about his career and his schedules signing events that were coming up. You hug your Dynamight themed teddy bear closer to your chest as you feel overflowing love for your husband. You were more than proud of him, overcoming trauma from his high school years and bad habits that you know still plague him to this day, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. He overcame it all- and you were just truly happy to be by his side.

All the questions are relatively the same- nothing really sparking your absolute interest (your focus was really just on Katsuki and how stupidly good he looked in his muscle shirt and cargos, matched with glossy jet black Prada boots)- until Seiko asks a question that makes you perk up.

"Many fans have noticed a ring around the chain you always wear when you're out fighting - do you perhaps have a special someone at home?" the host asks with a cheeky grin, expecting the blonde to give a flustered outburst but instead, Katsuki shows a hint of real emotion for the first time that night, a small genuine smile stretching across his face.

He takes out the chain in question, and runs his callused thumb over his fondly.

"Yeah, I gotta wife at home" he says, love seeping into his gruff voice. "She's probably on the couch watching this with that stupid Dynamight bear she got me for our last anniversary."

You gasp and look at your bear incredulously. "He did not call you stupid." you grumble, hiding half of your face into the plush of the stuffed animal but still peek over it to watch the screen.

You felt giddy, like a schoolgirl- wondering what Katsuki would say about you on live television. It was silly, you knew- but even after all these years Katsuki still had you flustered like he did all the way back when you were both sixteen.

"Damn woman uses that thing more than I do." he grumbles playfully and sighs."But...I don't think I would be where I am today without her."

You feel your cheeks heat, unable to be tear your eyes away from your husband on the screen.

"She's my rock, the breath in my lungs, the blood in my veins, the fire the keeps my goin'- I don't think I'd ever be able to tell her how much I really do love her."

You feel unbelievably hot, overwhelmed by love and affection even though he's not here with you. A watery smile forms on your face as you wipe away the tears that slip down your face.

You hold the teddy bear tight, breathing in Katsuki's scent- though he claims that you use it more than he does, know you that he sleeps with it whenever you're away.

Katsuki never failed to make you feel loved, through his actions, and right now, through his words too.

ʙᴏɴᴜꜱ:

this was one of the 247 posts Mina and Ejirou sent you the day after- Katsuki didn’t leave the bedroom once he saw, taking the teddy bear to cover his red face

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doumadono · 7 months ago

Note

Bakugo being a porn streamer (for Sinful Sunday)

Warnings: smut with plot, rough smut, pussy fingering and eating, cunnilingus, missionary, creampie, fem!reader, male masturbation, squirting, public sex, only fans & pornhub mentions, porn stream, Bakugo has OnlyFans account

A/N: this request got the second highest number of votes during the Sinful Sunday poll I held over a week ago. Thank you to everyone who voted!

SINFUL SUNDAY MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

The cityscape glowed like a thousand gems scattered across a dark velvet blanket, each light a testament to the life teeming below.

Katsuki Bakugo strode through the bustling streets, the remnants of his patrol echoing in the satisfied murmurs of bystanders he had saved earlier. His fiery eyes scanned the horizon, mind already drifting to the solace awaiting him at home.

Reaching the sleek, modern building that housed his penthouse, Bakugo nodded curtly to the doorman and made his way to the private elevator. As the doors closed, he allowed a small, rare smile to touch his lips.

It had been a good day — no major catastrophes, no near-death experiences. Just another day of being the best hero the world had ever seen.

The elevator chimed softly as it reached the top floor.

Bakugo stepped into his luxurious apartment, the space a perfect blend of modernity and comfort. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the city, and plush furnishings invited him to relax. He shed his hero gear with practiced efficiency, revealing the chiseled body beneath — one that had become almost as famous as his explosive quirk.

Padding barefoot across the cool hardwood floors, Bakugo headed to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. He took a long drink, his thoughts wandering to his evening plans.

It had started as a joke, really — a whim born from boredom and pure curiosity. One night, he had filmed himself getting off, his muscular body glistening with sweat, his deep, guttural moans echoing in the silent room. On a lark, he had uploaded the video to his old Pornhub, expecting nothing in particular.

To his surprise, the video had gone viral. Within days, he had amassed thousands of fans, all clamoring for more. At first, Bakugo was amused. Then intrigued. And finally, he saw an opportunity. He was a hot man — he knew that. And if people wanted to watch him, if it made them happy and he enjoyed it too, then why not?

With the success of his initial video, Bakugo had created an OnlyFans account, eager to capitalize on his newfound popularity. It had been an instant hit. Fans flocked to his page, eager to pay for the privilege of seeing him in more intimate, exclusive settings. The subscriptions rolled in, and Bakugo found himself enjoying the attention, the adoration. It was a different kind of thrill, but a thrill nonetheless.

Bakugo set the water bottle down and made his way to his bedroom. The room was dominated by a large, king-sized bed draped in dark, luxurious linens. A camera was set up on a tripod in one corner, pointed directly at the bed. He moved with confidence, stripping off his clothes and tossing them aside. Naked, he admired his reflection in the full-length mirror. His body was a testament to years of rigorous training — every muscle defined, every inch a work of art.

With practiced ease, Bakugo positioned himself on the bed, adjusting the camera angle until he was satisfied. He grabbed a small remote from the nightstand and turned on the camera. The red light blinked to life, and he took a deep breath, letting the anticipation build. This was his stage, his audience waiting eagerly on the other side of the screen.

He opened his laptop, navigating to his OnlyFans account. With a few clicks, he started a live stream, watching as the viewer count began to climb rapidly. The chat box exploded with messages, fans greeting him eagerly, their excitement palpable even through the screen.

"Hey, fucking perverts," he greeted, his voice low and rough, tinged with the cocky confidence that had made him a hero. "It's your favorite pro hero, back for another round."

He ran a hand down his chest, fingers tracing the hard lines of his abs. He knew exactly what his fans wanted, what they craved. And he was more than happy to give it to them. His hand continued its descent, skimming over the taut skin until it reached his cock. Already semi-hard, it twitched in his grasp, responding to his touch.

Bakugo leaned back against the pillows, spreading his legs slightly to give the camera a better view. He stroked himself slowly at first, his grip firm but teasing. He knew how to build the anticipation, how to draw it out until he was practically vibrating with need. "You like what you see?" he growled, eyes locked on the camera as if he could see his fans watching. "Bet you wish you could touch me, huh? Feel how hard I am for you, little perverts?"

The chat box lit up with eager responses, fans egging him on, praising his body, his performance.

God, you're so hot!

I've been waiting all day for this.

Take it slow, Dynamight, make it last!

His eyes scanned the comments, searching for one particular username: sweet_daisyxxx. Amid the flood of adoring messages, he spotted it.

sweet_daisyxxx: You look amazing tonight, Katsuki

A rush of heat surged through him at the sight of your comment. He smirked, a new surge of energy coursing through him. His hand moved faster, strokes becoming more insistent. Pleasure coiled in his belly, hot and demanding. He was stroking his cock from base to tip, picturing you moaning his name.

For Bakugo, starting an OnlyFans account had been a natural progression from his initial success on Pornhub. He'd always had a hard time settling down, despite his status as a pro hero and his undeniable attractiveness. His standards were high — too high, perhaps — and no woman had ever met all his requirements. His relationships invariably ended in one-night stands, fleeting and unsatisfying.

He had begun to find solace in the digital realm, exploring the myriad of content creators on OnlyFans. He followed the accounts of the girls he found hot, drawn to their beauty and charisma. It was a distraction, an addiction of sorts, but one he didn't mind. It filled a void that real-life encounters couldn't, offering a tantalizing escape from the pressures of heroism.

Then he came across your account. It was different from the rest. Yes, you were a camgirl yourself, you had a beautiful body, a captivating presence, but what set you apart was your approach. You didn't reveal everything, always touching yourself through the thin material of your lacy panties, always keeping your face off the camera, maintaining an air of mystery and intrigue while you played with yourself. Your streams were a mix of sensuality and intellect as you were trying to engage your small but dedicated follower count in discussions about literature, history, fashion, and the changing world. You were a tease, undoubtedly, but it was your depth that held him captive. Bakugo lingered on your page longer than he intended, entranced by your intelligence and charm. Your body was a work of art, but it was your mind that ensnared him. Not to mention you happened to be his biggest fan.

sweet_daisyxxx: Those muscles look even better up close. You're incredible, Katsuki

His eyes flicked back to the chat, watching as your other comments rolled in.

sweet_daisyxxx: That growl you made just now? So hoooot, oh Gosh... Don't stop

Bakugo was incredibly turned on, imagining the taste and feel of licking your cunny. Even though he had never truly seen your pussy, the lingerie you wore on your streams left little to the imagination, perfectly outlining the curves of your folds. He couldn't help but think your pussy must be the prettiest one. What sounds would you make riding his tongue? Where would you want him to cum? On your face? Mouth? Tits? Maybe you would want him to save it for your pussy?

sweet_daisyxxx: Wish I could be there to touch you, feel every inch of you

His breath hitched, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through his body. He could feel himself getting close, the familiar tension building with every stroke. His fans loved it when he talked dirty, loved the way he lost control on camera. And tonight, he was more than willing to give them a show. "Shit, I'm so close," he groaned, head falling back against the pillows. "You want to see me come undone, don't you? You want to watch me lose it for you?" His hips thrust faster into his rough palm.

He worked on his dick energetically, holding his balls tight in his free hand, squeezing them from time to time. He moaned from the pleasure radiating from his throbbing dick. He could almost hear his fans' reactions, the collective intake of breath, the eager anticipation. And that thought pushed him over the edge. With a final, desperate thrust, he came, his seed hot and sticky over his hand and stomach. It gushed and bubbled through the wet tip of his throbbing dick, leaving a slick trail on his toned abs as he continued to thrust into his clenched fist. Spurt, spurt. The sensation seemed endless. Katsuki's breath hitched with relief, and his hips finally began to slow. Though his balls were drained, they kept clenching, desperate to empty every last drop of his cum. His head rolled back, mouth hanging open as he panted through the final throes of one of the strongest orgasms of his life.

sweet_daisyxxx: Yes, Katsuki, just like that. So hot. You're perfect

Bakugo lay there for a moment, chest heaving, heart pounding. He let the camera capture every second, every twitch of aftershock. When he finally moved, it was with a lazy, satisfied grin. He reached for a towel and cleaned himself up, his eyes never leaving the camera.

But even in the haze of post-orgasmic bliss, Bakugo’s crimson eyes returned to the chat, seeking your username again.

sweet_daisyxxx: That was incredible, Mr Pro Hero. Can't wait for next time ♥

He smirked, feeling a sense of satisfaction beyond the physical release. You were more than just another fan. And you intrigued him.

"Hope you enjoyed the show," he said, voice still husky with the remnants of pleasure, his words directed toward you from all of his fans. "I'll see you next time."

He ended the live stream and lay back against the pillows, a sense of contentment settling over him. This was his life — a hero by day, a star of OnlyFans by night. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Bakugo lay back against the pillows, his body still thrumming with the afterglow of release. The chat window on his laptop blinked out, and he reached over to close it, his thoughts already drifting to the next interaction he craved. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, his fingers moving with practiced ease as he navigated to his messages.

He found your name quickly — sweet_daisyxxx.

Your conversations had become a regular part of his routine, an escape from the relentless demands of hero work and the empty satisfaction of countless one-night stands. With you, it was different. You talked about things that mattered, things that challenged his mind and made him feel alive in ways he hadn't expected.

Horny_Dynamight: Wanna FaceTime?

There was a brief pause before your response came in.

sweet_daisyxxx: m’kay, give me a min

He waited, the seconds ticking by with a tense anticipation. Finally, his phone buzzed with the incoming call. He accepted, and your face filled the screen, your eyes bright with excitement.

You were seated in your gamer chair, the fitted black tank top you wore accentuating your curves. Your earbuds were in, and as you settled into the call, Bakugo couldn't stop his eyes from drifting downward, where the neckline of your top revealed the top of your beautiful breasts. The soft swell of your cleavage was tantalizing, and he felt a familiar heat stir within him.

"Hey, handsome," you greeted, your voice steady despite the underlying tension.

"Hey, hottie," he replied, his voice a low rumble. "So, how'd you really like the stream?"

You bit your lip, a teasing smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "It was amazing, Katsuki. You looked incredible. And the way you touched yourself… It was so hot."

His smirk widened. "Glad you think so." He paused, studying your face, the way your eyes sparkled with curiosity. "I was thinking, would ya like to join my next stream?"

You blinked, taken aback. "Join? How?"

He didn't hesitate, his response blunt and to the point. "For some nice fucking."

Your eyes widened, shock and excitement warring for dominance on your face. "Are you serious, Kats? I think I’m far outta your league…"

"Dead serious," he confirmed, his gaze never wavering. "We've been dancing around this for way too long. I want you on my stream. With me. In every way, Y/N. I can’t stop thinking about ya, for fuck’s sake."

You stared at him, the silence stretching out as you processed his proposition.

He wondered if he had pushed too far, if maybe he had read the situation wrong.

But then, your expression shifted, a slow smile spreading across your face. "Okay," you said softly. "When?"

His heart leaped, a fierce grin spreading across his face. He hadn't expected you to agree so quickly, but then again, you had always surprised him. "Tomorrow night. Same time. My place."

"Ok, but you’ll have to pick me up," you replied with a slight shrug of your shoulders.

When you finally hung up, Bakugo felt a sense of satisfaction settle over him. Tomorrow night would be a game-changer, a step into new territory that he was eager to explore. With you.

The next day, Bakugo's routine went by in a haze of expectation. His patrols were efficient but mechanical, his thoughts constantly returning to the evening ahead. He had spent the day thinking about it, every spare moment filled with thoughts of you, of finally meeting the person who had occupied his thoughts for so long. Katsuki pushed himself harder in the gym, needing the physical exertion to keep his mind from spiraling into endless scenarios of what might happen.

When the day finally drew to a close, he found himself back in his apartment, preparing for what felt like both a stream and a date. He made sure everything was perfect — the camera angles, the lighting, the room itself. And then, he drove to pick you up from the mall you set up as a meeting place.

Bakugo's heart pounded with a mix of excitement and nerves as he drove to the mall. This was the first time he was going to see you in real life, and the anticipation was almost too much to bear.

He pulled into the parking lot, finding a spot near the entrance. As he stepped out of the car, he adjusted his black, leather jacket, trying to look as casual as possible despite the literal butterflies in his stomach. He scanned the crowd, looking for you, knowing you would stand out even among the bustling shoppers.

And there you were, waiting near the fountain in the center of the plaza. You wore a girly white summer dress with a delicate floral motif, the fabric swaying gently with the breeze. Your white sneakers added a touch of casual charm to your appearance. As you spotted him, your face lit up with a bright smile, and your cheeks turned slightly pink with a blush.

Bakugo made his way over to you, his heart pounding harder with each step. When he finally stood in front of you, he could hardly believe it. You were even more beautiful in person. "Hey," he said after clearing his throat, his voice coming out rougher than he intended.

"Hey, Katsuki," you replied, your voice soft and filled with excitement. "It's so good to finally see you in person, Mr Dynamight.”

He nodded, his eyes taking in every detail of you, from the way your dress clung to your figure to the sparkle in your eyes. "Yeah, it is."

There was a moment of silence as the two of you took each other in, the reality of the moment sinking in. Then, with a smirk, Bakugo extended his hand. "Ready to get out of here?"

"Absolutely,” you replied, taking his palm as if you two were a real couple.

He led you to his car, opening the door for you before getting in himself.

As he drove, the conversation flowed easily, just like it did during your calls. You talked about everything and nothing, the comfort between you growing with each passing mile.

Bakugo couldn't help but steal glances at you as he drove. The way your dress highlighted all of your curves, the way the sun caught your hair, the way your laughter filled the car with warmth — it was all purely intoxicating. He reached over, his rough, large hand resting on your thigh.

You glanced at him, a playful smile on your lips. "Can't keep your hands to yourself, huh?"

He smirked, his grip tightening slightly. "Nope. And I don't plan to, sweet doll."

His touch was firm, possessive, his fingers occasionally squeezing gently and brushing your soft skin as he navigated the streets. Every time his hand moved, it sent a shiver of anticipation through you, the promise of what was to come making your heart race.

Finally, you arrived at his apartment. Bakugo parked and turned to you, his expression serious. "You sure you're okay with this?"

You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. "More than okay, Katsuki. I've been looking forward to this, actually. I just… It’s been a while since…”

“Hush, no worries, I’ll be gentle,” he whispered softly, reaching his hand out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing slightly against your lower lip as he gazed into your eyes. With a nod, he led you inside the apartment.

The moment the door closed behind you, the atmosphere shifted. The tension that had been building all day exploded into action.

Bakugo reached for you, his hands cupping your face as he kissed you fiercely, all the pent-up desire pouring into that single moment.

You responded immediately, your arms wrapping around his neck as you kissed him back with equal fervor.

Your bodies pressed tightly together. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the raw need in his touch.

Bakugo's hands roamed down your sides, pulling you even closer until there was no space between you.

You could feel the hardness growing in his pants, pressing insistently against your lower abdomen as he pushed you on the nearest wall.

"Fuck," he muttered against your lips, his breath hot and heavy. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this." His hands moved to your waist, lifting you effortlessly as he walked towards the bedroom with you in his arms.

You wrapped your legs around him, the movement causing the bulge in his pants to press even more firmly against your clothed pussy. The friction made you moan, the sound driving him wild.

Bakugo kicked the bedroom door open, setting you down on the edge of the bed. He stepped back for a moment, his eyes raking over you with a look of pure hunger. "You look so fucking good," he said, his voice low and rough.

You blushed, but there was a playful glint in your eyes as you whispered teasingly, "Why don't you come over here and show me just how good?"

With a growl of satisfaction, Bakugo was on you in an instant, his mouth capturing yours once more. His hands moved with purpose, slipping under your dress to caress your soft skin. He paused, taking in the sight of you in your underwear. "Beautiful," he murmured, his hands tracing the curves of your body.

You got up and reached for him, pulling his leather jacket off and tossing it aside before working on the buttons of his shirt. His skin was warm and firm under your touch, the muscles rippling as you pushed the fabric off his shoulders. He helped you, impatient to feel your hands on him.

Once his shirt was off, you traced your fingers over his chest, marveling at the hard lines and defined muscles. "You're incredible, Katsuki," you said softly, your eyes meeting his.

He grinned, his hands moving to unbutton his pants. "You haven't seen anything yet."

As his pants hit the floor, your eyes were drawn to the impressive bulge pressing against his underwear. He moved closer, his lips locking with yours in a searing kiss while his body pressed tightly against yours. The feel of his firmness against you, combined with the fervor of his kiss, left your head reeling.

Bakugo murmured, "You know what I want to show on the stream?"

You shivered at the rough timbre of his voice. "What?"

"Mostly eating you out," he growled, his hand moving to caress your inner thigh, "and fucking you until you can't think straight."

Your breath hitched, the bluntness of his words sending a jolt of arousal straight to your core. “Are… Are you sure?" you asked, your voice trembling with anticipation.

"Yeah," he said, his eyes dark with desire. "I want everyone to see how good you can make me feel. How much we both want it."

You swallowed hard, the intensity of his gaze making you feel like you were burning from the inside out. "Katsuki..."

He kissed you again, hard and possessive. "So, what do you say?" he murmured against your lips. "You in?"

You nodded, your mind a whirl of desire and anticipation. "I'm in. Just…”

"Oh, quit being shy, doll. Just because you haven't shown yourself on cam yet doesn't mean you're a saint. We both know you're not. I still remember you moaning on the phone, telling me how you'd suck my dick during one of our calls."

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your racing heart. "Katsuki, I... I don't want my face shown on the stream."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "Why not? Are you ashamed of my idea?"

You shook your head quickly, cupping his face in your hands. "No, it's not that. I just... I don't think you want to be associated with an OnlyFans girl later. It could cause trouble for you. You’re a hero after all..."

His expression softened, and he cupped your cheeks in his rough hands. "I don't care about your fucking profession, doll," he said firmly. "I've developed feelings for you. You're more than a one-night stand for me."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the sincerity in his eyes making your breath catch. "Katsuki..."

He kissed you deeply, his lips conveying everything he couldn't put into words. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours. "We'll do it your way. No face. I want this to be good for both of us."

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection. "Thank you, Katsuki. This means a lot to me."

He grinned, his hands sliding down to your waist. "Now, let's make this the best stream anyone's ever seen."

Bakugo adjusted the camera one last time, ensuring it was angled just right. He made sure only a slight part of your neck would be visible, keeping your identity safe while still capturing the raw passion of the moment. The red light blinked on, indicating the stream was live. He turned to the camera, his usual smirk in place. "Hey, fuckers," he greeted, his voice low and confident. "Got a special stream for you tonight."

Immediately, the chat exploded with messages, the viewers' excitement palpable even through the screen.

Bakugo! Who's the girl?

Is this for real? Bakugo's got someone with him?

Holy shit, this is gonna be epic!

Introduce her! What's her name?!!

Is she your girlfriend?!! omg Dynamight has a gf? I’m heartbroken!!!

We need details, Dynamight!

Bakugo glanced at the comments, his smirk widening as he saw the flood of questions about you. He enjoyed the attention. "Calm down, fucking idiots," he said, his voice a growl that only seemed to stoke the fire in the chat. "You'll get what you came for. That’s all. My girlfriend’s face stays out of the frame. Got it?"

You gasped as you realized he called you his girlfriend.

The chat buzzed even more, curiosity and excitement mingling in the rapid-fire messages.

Why hide her face?

Is she that shy?

Come on, Bakugo, just a glimpse!

Gosh, he said she is his gf, rip to my feelings :(

Damn, this is hot already

Just fuck that cunt already man

Ignoring the more insistent demands, Bakugo turned to you, his crimson eyes dark with desire. He leaned in, his rough, large hand resting on your thigh as he whispered in your ear. "Ready to give them a show?"

You nodded, your heart racing. "More than ready...."

With a growl of satisfaction, Bakugo's lips crashed onto yours, the kiss fierce and demanding. His hands moved with purpose, slipping under the hem of your dress and slowly lifting it over your head. “Lay down and relax,” he commanded in a whisper.

The cool air hit your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, but his touch quickly warmed you up. You obliged and lay down on his bed.

He broke the kiss just long enough to pull the dress off completely, tossing it aside before capturing your lips again. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve with a desperate need.

You could feel the heat of his touch through the thin fabric of your underwear, his fingers tracing the lines of your body with an intensity that made your head spin.

Bakugo's hands moved to your back, deftly unclasping your bra and tossing it to the floor. He pulled back slightly, his eyes raking over you with a look of pure hunger. "So fucking beautiful," he murmured, his hands moving to cup your breasts.

You gasped as his rough palms squeezed them gently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your back arching slightly in response. He leaned down, his mouth finding the sensitive skin of your neck as he continued to fondle your breasts, his touch both firm and gentle.

"Katsuki," you moaned quietly, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, the anticipation of what was to come making your body ache with need.

His mouth moved lower, his lips and tongue tracing a path down your neck to your collarbone. "I want to make you feel so good," he growled against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. "I want everyone to see how much you need this."

You whimpered in response, your body trembling with desire.

His hands continued to explore, one moving to your waist while the other remained on your breast, squeezing and teasing your nipple. Bakugo's mouth soon found your nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak before sucking it into his mouth.

You cried out, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

He switched to the other breast, giving it the same attention, his hands and mouth working together to drive you to the edge.

The camera captured every moment, the slight part of your neck and the intensity of Bakugo's actions visible to his eager audience. The thought of being watched only heightened your arousal, the exhibitionism adding a new layer of excitement to the experience.

The chat was a blur of comments, the viewers enraptured by the display.

Damn, she's loving it!

Bakugo, you're a beast!

This is insane! More, more!

I can't take my eyes off this

Lucky girl, getting all of Dynamight’s attention

Bakugo pulled back, his eyes meeting yours with a look of pure desire. "I can't wait any longer," he growled, his hands moving to the waistband of your panties. He leaned forward, caught the waistband with his teeth and slid them down your legs, the fabric pooling on the bed as he knelt between your legs. He kissed his way up your thigh, his hands gripping your hips to hold you steady. "I'm going to make you come so hard on my fucking mouth," he promised, his breath hot against your skin. "And everyone is going to see how much you love it."

He pushed your legs further apart, exposing your glistening folds to the camera. The sight was mesmerizing, your arousal clear and inviting. Bakugo's eyes darkened with hunger as he took in the view, his fingers gently parting your folds to give the viewers a better look. "Look at that," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. "So fucking pretty, and all fucking mine."

The chat went wild, the viewers unable to contain their excitement.

OMG, her pussy is beautiful ♥♥♥

Bakugo, you're a lucky bastard! I’m so gay for that bitch

This is the hottest thing I've ever seen

Look at those curves!

I can't believe this is happening live!

Ignoring the comments, Bakugo leaned in, his breath hot against your sensitive folds.

Your pussy was tight and firm. It was flushed with your desire, and its lips were damp with your slickness.

Your scent filled his nostrils and Bakugo growled as his cock twitched in his boxers, aching to be freed.

The first touch of his tongue sent a shockwave of pleasure through you, your back arching as you cried out his name. His mouth worked expertly, his tongue and lips finding every sensitive spot as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

His tongue reached out and gently licked from the bottom of one side up to the top. He flicked the pearl of your clit and then licked back up the other side of your lips before flicking it again. Bakugo placed his tongue at the base of your slit and slid it up between your puffy lips. He tasted and felt your juices pool on his flexed tongue as it slid up.

You tasted so good, so sweet.

His lips closed over your clitoris and he sucked on it, drawing a gasp from you and a buck of your hips. Bakugo pulled your pussy lips into his mouth and sucked hard on them. His warm tongue went as far inside you as he could reach.

Your juices coated his chin.

He slid his mouth back up to your clit and eased a finger inside you. He growled against you, the vibrations making your legs shake.

Your lips parted slightly as his thick, rough middle finger slid in between the folds of your pussy.

It reached in and he curled it up till he hit the top of your pussy. He yet again sucked your clit into his lips hard.

Suddenly, your legs squeezed together, trembling. “Katsuki,” you whined, arching your back.

Katsuki sucked hard on your clit, his teeth teased it and he flicked it with the tip of his tongue as he slipped two more fingers into your pussy. Soon, they were coated with your translucent slickness.

He kissed your pussy lips and sucked up all of your juices. The nectar from your climax covered his face and hand. It was delicious and he smiled as he looked up from between your legs.

"Katsuki…" you moaned, your fingers tangling in his ash-blonde hair as you pulled him closer, the need for release almost unbearable as you ground your pussy against his face. Your body tensed, your back arching as the pleasure crashed over you in waves, your cries filling the room.

Bakugo didn't stop, his tongue continuing to work you through your orgasm, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were left trembling and breathless; your juices spilling on his tongue, overlaying his mouth and chin as he drank all of your essence.

The chat was in a frenzy, the viewers unable to contain their excitement.

OMG, that was intense!

Bakugo, you're a god

I need a cold shower after this

More, more, more!

This is the best stream ever Shhiiit her moans are hot

Fuck, she super hot, you’re lucky, man

Bakugo pulled back, his lips glistening with your juices as he looked up at you with a satisfied smirk. Bakugo stood up, his hands moving to the waistband of his black Calvin Klein boxers as he undressed quickly, his eyes never leaving yours. He stepped out of his underwear, his hard length springing free.

You licked your lips, the sight of him making your mouth water with anticipation.

He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs as he looked down at you with a possessive hunger. "I'm going to fuck you so hard," he promised, his voice a low growl. Ever so slowly he pressed the leaking tip of his cock to the opening of your pussy.

"Ohhh fuck," you whimpered as Bakugo gradually penetrated your entrance. You sucked in a breath and opened your legs wider to grant him better access.

So slowly he pushed his cock further in until he was fully sheathed inside of you. Bakugo left his other hand at your throat as he began a slow pace, sliding almost completely away from you before plunging back in.

You moaned deeply, relishing the searing hardness of his arousal. Your velvety walls clenched tightly around him, drawing a slight widening of his eyes in response to your movements. His arousal felt like forged steel as he continued to thrust vigorously in and out of you. Your desire had escalated to the point where it now glistened on the insides of your thighs and his toned abdomen, the soft, wet sounds filling the air each time he withdrew and then thrust back into your cunny.

Bakugo's lips captured yours passionately, his kiss fervent and insistent. He nipped at your tongue and the corners of your mouth, each bite sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you, melding the physical intensity with a deep, consuming heat.

A sharp yank on his blonde strands pulled his mouth from yours, and you looked into his crimson eyes. “Harder,” you begged.

Bakugo’s face transformed from an expression of animalistic need to one of desperate pleasure. He set a relentless pace, his hips driving into you with a fierce intensity.

Sweat began to slide in droplets between his shoulder blades and broke out over his forehead. A single drop fell from the tip of his nose and splashed onto your soft belly and you gasped.

Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, the pleasure building with each thrust.

Withdrawing, Balugo moved back into your tight pussy with full force again, and again. He sunk his teeth into the red mark he had made earlier where your neck met your shoulder and moved his body roughly against yours.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, somehow pulling him deeper into your pussy, causing small moans to fall from your lips uncontrollably.

"Katsuki, I'm going to come again," you whined, your body trembling with the intensity of the pleasure.

"Do it," he growled, his hips pistoning into you even harder. "Come for me. Let everyone see how much you need this."

With a final, powerful thrust, you shattered, the pleasure crashing over you in waves as your orgasm ripped through your entire being. You were trembling and quivering as Bakugo rubbed your slick clit faster and faster, making you squirm as you orgasmed. Your toes curled and uncurled with each movement, your pussy dripping wet as his massive cock hit your cervix with every thrust. Your breathing grew heavy, moans escalating in volume until you were screaming his name. Your entire body shook, legs trembling, hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. Your pussy dripped, juices spraying the bed and Katsuki's abdomen, the bed squeaking loudly, rocking with the force of his thrusts as you squirted. “Fuck!”

Bakugo thrust madly, groaning as he felt the tightness of your pussy around his cock begin to ripple. He cried out a string of curses as his cock spurted in a mighty gush. He thrust thrice more, cumming with each push until he was absolutely spent, milking your velvety walls with his creamy, thick semen.

As the aftershocks of your orgasms subsided, Bakugo leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. "You're incredible," he murmured against your lips, his hands cupping your face gently.

"So are you," you replied, your heart swelling with affection as you ran your hands though his messy hair.

Bakugo gradually withdrew, his movements deliberate and slow, savoring the last vestiges of intimacy. He watched with a mixture of pride and amusement as his thick cum began to dribble out from your spent pussy, staining his bedsheets. His gaze was intense, capturing every moment with a fierce satisfaction. Ensuring that every second was visible to his viewers, he turned slightly. "How'd you like that, fucking perverts?" he asked his viewers, his voice rough with satisfaction.

The screen was flooded with emojis, exclamations, and messages that scrolled past almost too fast to read. Fans were expressing their thrill and approval, many praising Bakugo's intensity and the raw, unfiltered passion of the display. Some commented on the sheer boldness. It was clear that Bakugo's actions had struck a chord, igniting a fervent buzz among the viewers.

Wow, Bakugo you never disappoint! Absolute legend! 🔥🔥🔥

What a beautiful squirt! That was INTENSE! Way to go, Katsuki!! 💥💥 😱 Can't believe what I just saw! This is why Bakugo's the best! Dude, that was wild!! 🌋 Loved every second of it!

Loved that, absolutely killed it Bakugo! Can’t wait for more! Ur girl is fucking lucky

Bakugo glanced back at you, and asked simply, "So? Ready for another round?"

#doumadonos sinful sunday 🔥#sinful sunday #bakugou smut #katsuki bakugou #bakugo x reader smut #mha bakugou #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #mha smut #bnha smut #bakugo smut #bakugou scenarios #bakugo x reader #anime smut #bakugou x you #bakugo katsuki #divider by cafekitsune

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daemour · 1 year ago

Text

I Can See You

Pairing: single dad! Seonghwa x babysitter! f! yn

Word Count: 10,137

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, a creepy old man in one scene, age gap (10 years but both are adults (and not just barely)), smut warnings under cut

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, single parent au, M for mature audiences

Summary: When you took a job babysitting a young toddler, you didn't expect to be so drawn to the family. And more specifically, her frustratingly hot and single dad.

Smut Warnings: masturbation, sexual fantasies, riding, slight (if you squint) corruption kink, sliGHT breeding kink, unprotected sex (DONT DO THIS unless you discuss safely outside of sex!), breast play, overstimulation, undiscussed kinks (yn is fine with it. but discuss your fucking kinks guys *gun emoji*), slight cumplay

thank u to @pyeonghongrie and @mingsolo for beta'ing and for the title hehe <3 this is also a collab with @potatomountain who is also writing a dilf hwa (Bittersweet Neighbours), we're just on two sides of the spectrum lol...and this is so damn long

“Hello, I’m here for a babysitter interview with a Mr Park?”

“That would be me. Miss (Y/N)?”

When you answered the ad in the newspaper about babysitting, you were so ready to see an older man, around his fifties. But this man looked so young, around his late twenties although you’re sure he’s probably forty. And you’re not one to judge—nearing your mid-twenties one wouldn’t be expecting you to still babysit as a full-time job. But it pays the bills and helps you get some hands-on experience in your degree, child development.

“Ah, yes. That’s me,” your words spill out as you realise he is awaiting an answer. Mentally, you berate yourself for the immediate blunder while Mr Park’s eyes crinkle with amusement.

“Come on in and make yourself comfy on the couch. I’ll be right there. Would you like anything to drink?” Mr Park’s voice is smooth like butter and you have a hard time making sure you don’t get lost in it.

Again, you nod, actual wordy responses jumbled in your brain, walking to the couch and sitting down almost mechanically. If you were mentally present, you would have noticed the smile the older man sends your way.

He doesn’t take too long, returning with two glasses of water. “You didn’t say what you wanted to drink so I just got you water. Is that okay?”

Thankfully, you finally can respond coherently and smile, albeit a little shakily. “Yes, thank you so much.”

You take the glass with both hands, thanking him again quietly and taking a small sip before just holding it as you wait for him to be seated. You’ve felt awkward before, but this is a new extreme. Normally you pride yourself on keeping your cool in front of someone you think is hot, but Mr Park…he’s something else. You try your best to keep your eyes trained on the coffee table, only letting yourself glance at him occasionally so he doesn’t realise just how in awe you are.

“Jihee will be home from school soon, so you’ll see her soon. For now it’ll just be old me and my questions,” Mr Park starts his interview as soon as he sits on the couch across from you. “Now, I saw in your application that your major was in child development? Can I ask why that interested you?”

You blink at him for a moment, not expecting that question. Sure, bringing it up was expected, but the way he sounds like he’s interviewing you for a position in a company amuses you. “Uh…I just grew up with a lot of siblings and their kids. I’m the youngest of six, and the oldest is sixteen years older than me so I have a lot of nieces and nephews as well. Children have always been a part of my life, and my first job was babysitting so it’s something I’m very used to. Child development was just a way for me to learn even more and in a less… hands-on way. Poopy diapers are not my favourite.” You pause. “Not that I can’t change them! Or that Jihee uses them. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

You’re so sure your face is bright red right now as you stumble over your words, and you’re ready to be kicked out, but all Mr Park does instead is laugh at your embarrassment. It’s a little mean but it’s better than your worst conclusion so you’ll take it. “It’s okay,” Mr Park smiles at you. “It’s okay to ramble, it was actually quite amusing. Now, I’d just like to warn you, Jihee has trouble with working on schoolwork. While that usually isn’t an issue, she may be asking you to help her with her homework and reading and I just thought I’d give you a heads up. Would that cause any trouble?”

“It wouldn’t bother me, and I’ll try my best. I took children’s education in college as well so it’d be a good time for me to exercise that,” you laugh quietly. Your first dream was to be a governess, no matter how few jobs there are for that type of work.

Mr Park nods thoughtfully. “Glad to give you some experience in that,” he hums after careful consideration, a smile on his face. “Her struggles lie in understanding the problems and in English. If she faces any difficulty then I can always help out.”

Before either of you continues speaking, his watch beeps and he glances down. Without another word, he stands and goes to open the front door. “Uh–” Your confusion escapes you before you can stop it.

“Oh, Jihee’s almost home and I always leave the door open for her,” he explains, eyes still trained on his watch. “You’ll get to meet her, and then we can discuss more details. And just to reiterate the ad, this is going to be a job that requires a lot of hours. I, of course, will be paying you for any sort of overtime if I need to stay at the office later. Does your schedule still allow for that?”

You hold back your smile. Your schedule mostly consists of scrolling the internet for job opportunities and eating lunch with your friends. “Yes, I can do that,” you affirm. “I’ll need holidays off, but I assume that’s a given as you’ll also be with Jihee?”

A smile pulls at the corner of Mr Park’s mouth. “Very astute,” he chuckles. “Now, here she comes.”

The door swings open without another word from either of you and a little girl dressed in pink and ribbons barrels into Mr Park’s knees. He lets out a quiet grunt, stabilising himself against the door as his hand strokes at her hair. “Hello, Jihee,” he hums fondly. "How was school today?"

The young girl beams up at her father. "So fun!" she grins, her words slightly slurred in her excitement. "Today, Mrs Lee had us do shapes and my favourite colour is blue now! I have so many blue crayons."

Mr Park's eyebrow raises at the mention of crayons. "Do you have them with you?" he asks, and Jihee nods vigorously. "Can I see them?"

Another nod comes from the child and she immediately plops on the floor, pulling out her pencil case and opening it to reveal at least ten crayons, all of varying sizes. What stands out to you the most is that half of them are green. "See! All blue. But this one's my favourite." She grabs at a particularly long and skinny one, a shade of emerald green.

"Ah. Lovey, remember, your colours are a little different, right?" Mr Park talks in a gentle voice, very different from the very adult voice he used with you. "That's a green crayon."

Jihee's face drops. "Oh." Her bottom lip juts out in a pout.

Mr Park holds out his hand and Jihee drops the crayon into his palm. "You can't take the crayons from school anyway, dear. Why don't we leave these in your bag and you can give them back and apologise to Mrs Lee tomorrow?"

Jihee's pout grows bigger but she nods. "Okay, daddy," she agrees and Mr Park nods proudly.

"Now, do you want to meet your new friend?" You flinch as Mr Park mentions you, sitting up straighter in your chair before ultimately deciding to stand instead.

"Hi, Jihee," you do your best to speak with the same quiet tone Mr Park used. "I'm (Y/N)! It's nice to meet you."

You offer your hand for her to shake and Jihee looks at you, her thinking face almost a spitting image of her father's before she walks over and takes your hand with gusto. "Hi, Mrs (Y/N).”

"Ah, I'm not a Mrs," you correct her. "You can call me (Y/N)."

"Miss (Y/N)," Mr Park quietly interrupts and you nod, not wanting to override his parenting although being called 'miss' will catch you off-guard for the time being. "Why don't you tell her one thing about yourself and then Miss (Y/N) has to go, okay?"

Jihee's mouth twists in sadness, her hand still gripping yours. "Okay," she sighs again. "I get to talk to her more later though, right?"

Mr Park nods. "Of course. Miss (Y/N) will be spending a lot of time with you, so I'm glad you like her."

Jihee nods solemnly. "I like pretty people and you're super pretty," she tells you earnestly and your heart swells at the compliment.

“Thank you, Jihee,” you thank her genuinely, although you’re amused at the fact that she considers her appreciation for physical looks a good introduction to herself. “It was nice to meet you.”

With another decisive nod, Jihee turns and marches right off down the hall, presumably to her room. Mr Park turns to you, finally shutting his front door with a sigh. “That was Jihee. Ball of energy extraordinaire. She comes home from school at one-thirty, and will put her own things away before coming to eat a snack. She has one worksheet to do a day but with your help she’ll get it fairy quickly. I’ll email you a list of house rules.”

You nod. “That sounds perfect. What would the schedule look like? What time would I be here, and when would I expect you to come home?”

Mr Park hums, running a hand through his perfect hair. “For her school days, I’d like to have you in here maybe ten minutes before she comes. I’ll always leave her snack in the fridge and you can just pop it in the microwave and make yourself comfortable before she comes barrelling in. Then I’ll be home at five-thirty sharp whenever possible. Every other Saturday I’m in the office for eight hours and you’ll be watching Jihee for those days. If you can’t do a Saturday, just let me know so I can get someone to watch her, but generally I’d like you here from eight to five.”

You nod. All your friends have atypical work schedules so your Saturdays are empty in general, and since the weekdays are shorter hours you don’t mind. “When it comes to after-school playdates, should I expect you to be home or would you like me to take care of them?”

Mr Park’s lips tighten almost imperceptibly. “That won’t be an issue. Jihee doesn’t do playdates.” Your curiosity spikes at his short answer but his tone leaves no room for discussion so you don’t press it. “I’ll give you a key now. Tomorrow is my off-Saturday but if you can come in just to adjust yourself that would be great. I have some work to get done anyway so I’ll be mostly out of your hair although you can still ask me questions.”

You nod again. “Yeah, that works,” you confirm after a quick check to your phone calendar. When you look up, Mr Park is already holding out a key and you take it after a moment’s hesitation. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Mr Park nods, moving to open the door when Jihee calls out with a whining tone to her voice. “Daddy, I need help!”

Mr Park sighs but it’s full of affection for his daughter. “I would walk you to your car but she calls for me,” his head dips into an apologetic bow but you shake your head.

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile at him. “There’s no need for that at all.” That is one of the main reasons, but another part of you doesn’t want him to know you have no car and you take the bus to his neighbourhood and then walk the rest of the way.

A twenty-four-year-old with no car? It’s a little embarrassing, especially in the area you both live in where it’s almost required to have a car to do anything. Generally, your babysitting jobs were close enough to your home, but the salary of this job enticed you to give up walking.

As you exit, you can hear Jihee starting off her complaints about her jacket and you smile to yourself subconsciously.

You’ve been working with the Parks for almost a month now and generally, it’s a good time. You only really see Mr Park when he comes home, but by then you have one foot out the door. There are days when he looks so beaten down that you want to offer him some encouragement, but you don’t want to step out of your boundaries. So, you just keep your head down and leave.

Jihee is sweet and easy-going, not hard for you to get along with. She always has some sort of fun idea for you to play along with and her schoolwork hasn’t been too terrible although you dread when she starts getting into more difficult maths.

But today, as soon as Jihee walks into the door, you suspect something is wrong. She doesn’t greet you as excitedly as she used to, just stalking straight into her bedroom and coming right now, settling herself down on the couch with a pout on her face.

“Jihee, don’t you want to eat?” you try to coax her to the dinner table, but she just shakes her head, immobile. You frown. It’s strange for the usually talkative child to be this closed off. “Did something happen at school?”

Jihee glares at the coffee table, shaking her head. “No,” she mutters but her cold-stone facade drops immediately as she suddenly bursts into tears. Your heart drops for the child crying on your couch and you immediately run to her and pull her into your arms. “Why don’t they like me?” she wails into your shirt and your heart drops.

You had suspected it when Mr Park shut down the playdate idea very quickly, but this just solidifies your thoughts. How could the kids at school not like such a sweet kid? As you’ve been working for the Parks for quite a bit now, you’ve grown to adore the young girl like she was one of your own nieces.

You don’t say anything just yet, just patting her hair and doing your best to calm her down. It takes almost an hour but now she just curls up in your arms, her hands gripping your shirt as she’s so close to falling asleep. You don’t have the heart to wake up so you resign yourself to letting her sleep on you for now.

Within ten minutes, you fall asleep as well. It’s not what you meant to do, but you couldn’t have stopped yourself. When your eyes open again, Jihee is no longer in your arms and there’s a large fluffy blanket laid on top of you. You blink yourself awake before panic sets in and you shoot up, looking around. “Jihee?” you call out and hear deep laughter behind you. When your head snaps back you see Mr Park chuckling at your face.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Miss (Y/N).”

It takes a minute for your words to register, blinking stupidly at your employer for a few moments before your face drops and you practically leap off the couch. “I’m so sorry!” you cry, bowing rapidly at a low angle. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep and it won’t happen again.”

You keep your eyes lowered and you look up at him through your lashes, scared of how he’ll react but to your surprise, Mr Park’s smile grows and he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, you looked comfortable and the doors were locked. Jihee didn’t get into any trouble, just was a little bored since you were asleep.”

You shake your head. “Regardless, I shouldn’t sleep on the job but thank you for the kindness. Jihee is very responsible for her age and it certainly reflects on your parenting.” You smile back at him.

“Well, thank you for your kind words. It means a lot to me as well,” Mr Park hums. “Would you like to join us for dinner? I know you usually leave around the time I get back but let me at least feed you before you go.”

You frown. “I’d like to, but I should get going,” you say absentmindedly. “I have to make it in time to catch the bus.”

You’re looking around, trying to gather your belongings, when you realise how silent Mr Park is. And in turn, you realise what you just said. “You take the bus?” His voice lowers and you stare at the look of concern he has on his face. “It’s practically dark by the time you leave and you’re walking to the bus stop by yourself?”

“Ah– it’s okay! It’s not a far walk, just up the street.” You hurry to defend your choices, waving your hands. “I’ve gotten home safe so far, no?”

Mr Park shakes his head. “No, you can’t take chances. I’ll drive you home tonight after dinner. You must stay.”

You stare up at him with wide eyes, but his stance is unwavering. And as much as you would usually protest—being taken home by a much older man would usually ring alarms in your head—the idea of not having to wait in the cold and the dark by yourself is very appealing. And from how you’ve interacted with him before, Mr Park seems very sweet, and you trust him just a little more than you probably should.

“Well, I do thank you for your kindness,” you sigh, nodding your head in concession. “But this will be the only time.”

Mr Park chuckles, not taking you seriously. “We’ll see. Now come on. Tonight is beef stew and my younger brother will come for dinner as well.”

“Uncle Uyu is coming?” You can hear Jihee’s excited voice coming from the kitchen as well as her feet pittering on the floor as she launches herself into your lap. “Hi again, Miss (Y/N).”

“Hello again, Miss Jihee,” you tease, pressing the tip of your finger to her forehead and Jihee giggles.

“Are you staying for dinner?” You nod again and she screeches in happiness, not giving a second glance at how you wince at the sound. “I can’t wait! I have to make you pretty! Come with me.”

With as much seriousness as she can muster in her body, she pulls you by the hand into her room as Mr Park watches the two of you with a soft smile and follows the two of you into Jihee’s room. He takes a seat on the bed as Jihee fusses over your hair, styling it with her toddler's hands and putting an obscene amount of hair clips into it. But you’re whipped for the little girl and you let her do whatever she wants, ending up in two uneven pigtails and a plethora of Hello Kitty clips.

“Daddy, isn’t it pretty?” Jihee giggles, moving your head to tilt so her father can take a look at her work. “It’s better than your hair to practice!”

Mr Park, mock-affronted, holds his hand to his chest. “Betrayed by my own daughter? Alas, but I can let it slide as this may very well be your best work.”

Jihee giggles, pressing her face against your cheek when the doorbell rings. “Uncle Uyu!” As always, her focus is diverted by any new thing and she runs for the door, both you and Mr Park following shortly after. As she yanks the door open, a man around Seonghwa’s age greets her just as excitedly, bending down to pick her up and spin her around.

“Jiji,” he cheers, “Already so big?” His eyes find you and you offer a small wave. “And who’s this? Seonghwa, you found a girl?”

Mr Park’s jaw drops and your eyes widen as you rush to contradict. “Oh, no, no, I’m just the babysitter. Mr Park has kindly invited me for dinner.”

Wooyoung chuckles at the look on both your faces. “Don’t worry, I just like to pull on Seonghwa’s leg. You’re a little young for him too.”

You offer a smile. “Yeah, and the forties are a little out of my age range as well,” you try to joke, but to your surprise, Wooyoung breaks out cackling, startling Jihee who starts laughing with him confusedly. Mr Park’s shocked face has somehow become even more intense.

“You think I’m how old?” Wooyoung has reigned in his laughter although a smile still pulls at his lips. “I’m only thirty-four!”

A gasp made its way out of your mouth as you start bowing rapidly again in apology. “I’m so sorry! You look your age, I just assumed you had to be older.”

Mr Park sighs, although an amused smile now graces his face. “It’s okay, I can understand it. I’ll just be giving you a hard time from now on.” He punctuates with a wink and your eyes snap down to Jihee in embarrassment.

“Let’s get on with dinner so I can go home and just melt in embarrassment, okay?” you groan and the two older men laugh. Jihee seems to agree with your sentiment, declaring her hunger grumpily and you laugh and pick her up. “See, even Jihee’s on my side. Let’s eat now.”

Mr Park hums, stepping aside. “All right, I see I’m outnumbered now. I hope you don’t mind how casual this dinner is, but I promise the food is worth it. Wooyoung’s the better cook, but he’s taught me a few tricks.”

You shrug. “Any food is good food to me. At home, I have instant ramen and fried rice so it’s a nice change.”

Out of disapproval, Mr Park shakes his head although the smile does not leave his face. “I do not miss my college diet. Please, take a seat.” He motions to the dinner table, pulling out a chair for you to seat yourself, sitting beside you as Wooyoung and Jihee join the other side of the table.

“So, tell me about yourself (Y/N),” Wooyoung hums, leaning on the table by his elbows. “You’re in college?”

You shake your head. “I graduated a year and a half ago, I’m twenty-four now, but it feels like just yesterday I was taking my finals,” you chuckle. “What was your major, Mr Wooyoung?”

Wooyoung smiled, “Please, call me Wooyoung. Mr Wooyoung just sounds weird. But to answer your question, my major was culinary, of course. Before I taught Hwa how to cook, he was hopeless. I think I was feeding him and Jihee primarily other than his sandwiches and canned soup.” He sighs, leaning back and smirking at Mr Park whose ears are red.

“Hey, Youngah, I paid you for your work. Don’t make me seem incompetent,” Mr Park snorts, leaning over to smack the back of his neck. “Wooyoung may be eight years younger than me but he certainly acts like he’s five.”

You laugh at the banter. “Me and my siblings were the same way. We’d always fight but in the end, we care for each other. It’s sweet to see you guys act the same.” You smile, taking a bite of your stew. “Thank you for letting me sit in on your family dinner.”

Mr Park shakes his head. “Of course. Can’t let you walk on your own at night, you know. I’d be happy to give you a ride home from now on.”

“Ah, no, I can’t make you do that,” you try and decline again but Seonghwa is having none of that.

“It’s not a matter of making me, I offered. I can’t let my babysitter just stand around in the dark. Let me do this for you. Jihee cares for you, she wouldn’t want to make you get hurt.”

You frown, pursing your lips. “I suppose I can’t argue with that,” you concede. “Thank you once again.”

Mr Park shakes his head, his hand moving up to ruffle your hair. “Don’t worry about it.” His hand rests atop your head a moment longer before he remembers who he is in relation to you. “Ah, sorry. Habit from Jihee.”

The heartfelt moment is cut loose by everyone amused at Mr Park’s habit. Jihee immediately takes the initiative to start rambling about stickers, engrossing everyone in the conversation, Wooyoung being particularly vocal. The dinner is finished with no other events, and you offer to help clean up, ignoring Mr Park when he tries to protest.

“Thank you for helping out,” he tries to thank you but you wave your hand dismissively.

“You fed me and are driving me home. It’s the least I could do. Shall we head out though? I don’t want you to have to leave Jihee for too long.”

Mr Park nods, grabbing his keys and jangling them as he opens the door to the garage. You do your best to not show your surprise at the sight of his fancy car. Of course, you knew he was well off, but you never imagined you’d actually be sitting in his car. He even opens the door for you, letting you slide into the passenger seat.

You hold yourself stiffly, but Mr Park looks over and just laughs at you. “Relax, I’m not going to bite you. Just let me know where to go and we’ll be set. Want a piece of gum?”

He holds out a pack of gum and you gladly take the piece, happy for the distraction. Most of the car ride is silent, except for you telling him occasionally where to go. But as he pulls up to your street, he slows to a crawl.

“You know, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around.me. Sure, I’m your employer, but I’m also a dad. I got the dad instinct, you know?” Your lips twitch at his attempt to be comforting. “Really, though. Don’t hold yourself so tight around me. I don’t mind doing this for you.”

You turn your eyes down. “Thank you. I’ll try, it’s just a little weird for me if you understand. But I do appreciate everything you’re doing for me.” As you unbuckle your seatbelt, you smile at Mr Park. “I hope you have a good night.”

As you go to your apartment building, Mr Park leans out of his car and calls after you. “You can call me Seonghwa, (Y/N). Mr Park makes me feel old.”

You laugh at his admission. “We’ll see, grandpa!” You can’t help but tease him before running into your home, leaving an amused Seonghwa outside.

These days you and Seonghwa have become a lot more friendly. He’s taken to driving you home despite your protests and during the car rides, some interesting conversations have happened. For example, you learnt that he built his company from the ground and yet is respected in many old money circles.

Okay, maybe you didn’t learn that from a conversation, and instead just searched on the internet. But what can you say? You’re curious about the man who happens to be your charge’s father and the man who happens to be very very handsome.

Maybe you have a bit of a crush on Seonghwa, but you couldn’t blame yourself. There was something about him. It is the aura he holds himself with, the kindness in his smile when he arrives home, and it helps that he is hot. Every so often, you can’t help but find yourself glancing at his pretty hands, or his well-toned arms, and you have to look away before heat spreads up to your ears.

You’re down bad, and it’s not getting any better. Every time you see Seonghwa, you want to jump him but it would be inappropriate. Not only is he your employer, but he’s also a decade older than you. There’s no way he would be interested in you, he probably sees you just as some kid.

With a sigh, you look down at your sketchbook. Today was supposed to be a fun day. Both Jihee and Seonghwa were off today, so you were spending the day with her as Seonghwa was still called into the office to put in some extra hours. But then the toddler fell sick and you were tasked with taking care of her.

At least it was a fairly easy job—Jihee slept most of the day and you were free to work on some of your more personal projects. Although your passion lies in children, you do enjoy drawing and even took a couple of classes in college. As you lay on the couch sketching, you get so lost in your mind you don’t even register the door opening and the footsteps coming towards you.

“Is that me?”

A shriek rips its way out of your throat as you do your best to whirl around and hold your drawings to your chest, but your legs get caught in the blanket and you instead fall half off the couch to the ground. Your chin props your head up on the ground but your legs are still tangled on the couch, your arms twisted into the blanket, the sketchbook an arm’s reach away.

“Hi, Mr– Seonghwa. How was work today?” you mumble half into the carpet, too embarrassed to look up. “Jihee’s taking a nap in her room.”

After a moment of silence, Seonghwa laughs, although it’s a little pained. “Uh. Do you need help up?”

You groan, pulling one of your arms out from your cocoon prison. “That would be great, thanks. Sorry.”

One of his cool hands gently takes your elbow as another comes to rest on your back. It’s at the moment you realise your shirt has ridden up. You can’t help but tense at the touch, hoping the embarrassment doesn’t show on your face. “Jihee’s taking a nap?”

You’re grateful he chose to brush over the incident. “Yeah– yeah. She’s not much better, but she’s not much worse. It’s just a simple cold, so she needs to sleep it off.” You chose to ignore the hand lingering on the small of your back, instead scooching back on your butt to distance yourself just a little bit. He’s your employer, there’s no way you can give in to your feelings.

But the couch seems to be against your plans, as when you try to pull the blankets off your feet you tumble into Seonghwa’s legs, knocking him down as you land on his firm chest. Your face is mere centimetres away from his and you freeze. “I–” you stammer out, Seonghwa equally as awkward.

“Sorry–” He tries to sit up, but it just results in the blankets twisting tighter and pulling you two even closer together. You swear if you could hold your breath, you could feel and hear his heart beating. “Ah, shit.”

You can’t help but laugh a little at his profanity, not something you’ve ever expected to hear from him. “Welcome back, Seonghwa.”

Seognhwa’s eyes widen, his blush deepens, and his head snaps away from you. Your brows furrow at the change in his features and you can’t help but wonder if it’s from the proximity, or if it’s the proximity to you specifically. “Ah. Let’s get out of this, shall we?” he coughs. He carefully detangles himself from the pile and holds out a hand to you.

You grasp it, noting his firm grip and letting him pull you up. “Thanks.”

“I’ll drive you back to your apartment first since Jihee’s asleep right now. It won’t take long.” While Seonghwa’s voice remains warm, his eyes move away from you.

Suddenly a guilty feeling pools in your stomach and you turn away as well, bending to pick up your sketchbook silently. “Of course.” The disappointment fills your head as you internally admonish yourself for even trying to entertain your fantasies of the older man.

But, to your surprise, a warm hand pats you on your shoulder. “You are good at art, (Y/N). You should continue to pursue and practice it, even as just a hobby.” His words make you look up into his eyes and you see a sparkle behind them. “You’re a talented person, and you should take advantage of it.”

“Thank you, Seonghwa,” you smile at him again. “Once again, I appreciate the kindness you offer me.”

Seonghwa chuckles, spinning the car keys as you’ve quickly found out is his habit. “(Y/N), thank you for putting up with such an old man who can offer you nothing but kindness.”

You snort. “You’re not even that old, you geezer.” In retaliation, Seonghwa leans over and pokes you in the forehead.

“Oh, hush and let me take you home.”

It’s been almost six months since that day and your feelings have only intensified. But this time, you swear perhaps he may be returning your feelings too. Sometimes you catch him looking at you with a gentle smile, and his hand on your shoulder lingers a little longer than you think. But then he talks to an employee on the phone and you remember how accomplished he is. Even if he wasn’t much older than you, there’s no way you would fit into his lifestyle.

And, like any self-respecting person would do, you start to avoid him. What else are you going to do? Tell him? You’d be crazy to even entertain the thought. There’s no way he would even take you seriously.

These days you’ve just been going to work, and heading straight home. Seonghwa barely has time to catch you, and you’ve been plotting with Jihee to keep him away. She doesn’t quite understand why, but it’s fun to her so she’s happy to. You’re pretty sure half your wallet has gone to sticker sheets. But no matter how many stickers you’ve bought, it doesn’t help Seonghwa from figuring out something is amiss.

It’s your one day off and you’re spending it at home, lounging around and just watching movies while you sulk about your tangled feelings. Watching all these romantic movies doesn’t help at all and you groan. There’s no way you’re going to act like a lonely teenager, you declare to yourself. You’ll go to a club! Maybe meet someone closer to your age and you won’t feel like a wet sock anymore.

That’s it, you’ve convinced yourself. You’ll give yourself a night out. Suddenly inspired, you throw off the blankets covering you and start donning your nicest clothes. There’s a club you used to frequent in your college days, and you haven’t been back since you got the new job. It’d be nice to let loose again.

As the nighttime approaches, you’re almost all ready to go. You have your outfit and your makeup, and all you need is your shoes. Once you pick out your favourite pair of heels (comfy and not too high), you make your way down. You can feel the excitement pounding out of your chest and you can’t wait to get the night started.

As you enter the club, your body immediately relaxes as you take in the atmosphere. It’s been so long, you’re just excited to have fun. Get drunk, find a nice guy, and forget your problems. You down drink after drink, hyping yourself up, but as late night comes, nothing happens. With a sigh, you plunk down your last drink, feeling the buzz of the alcohol burn in your veins.

Nothing will happen tonight, and you just have to come to terms with it. You place down a couple of bills to pay off your tab, tip, and stumble out of the bar. You’re plastered. You can hardly walk in a straight line and you lean against the cool brick for a minute, letting the sensation sober you up a bit as you do your best to call up a taxi.

But before you can do so, a hand creeps onto your bare waist and your head snaps up to see a man, no younger than fifty, leering at you. “Uh, hi?” you slur out, your hands fiddling with your phone as you try and discreetly move to the phone app. You may be plastered, but you’re not a fool and you know what could happen in this situation.

Unfortunately, the old man seems to know what you’re trying and he grabs one of your wrists. “Now, pretty lady, take a break there. Why don’t you come hang out with me for a bit?” His words are greasy and slimy, and you almost gag at the idea of what he’s insinuating. At least Seonghwa isn’t triple your age…and he’s hot.

“Ah, no thanks,” you manage to push past him, pressing your most recent contact and holding the phone to your ear. “I’m a little uh…” You’re cut off when whoever you call starts speaking.

“(Y/N)? Why are you calling me? It’s nine.” Seonghwa’s voice crackles through the receiver. “Are you okay?”

“Ah, shit,” you groan, stumbling to your side and colliding with the wall. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you. I’m just out and–”

Once again, the old man approaches you and pulls you back by the waist. “Come on, pretty. Get off the phone and pay attention to me.”

You shake your head and pull away again, moving even more down the street. “No, no, I’m not– just leave me alone. I want to go home,” you say, shaking your head, still holding the phone to your face. “Just…I wanna go home.”

“(Y/N), are you okay? Where are you?” You can hear the worry in Seonghwa’s voice rise and a faint jingling of keys. “I’m going to get you. Wooyoung’s here so he can watch Jihee. Talk to me, (Y/N).”

“I’m at the club Desire. Or near it. I don’t know.” Your head is muddled and no matter where you look, the street signs are blurring and the old man is still trying to get your attention. “I just want to go home,” you repeat, tears springing to your eyes. “I thought I told you to leave me alone!”

The old man growls at your tone, grabbing at you again. “Don’t be stupid, child. You can come home with me and I’ll teach you how to be proper for a man like you.” His breath reeks of alcohol and bad breath and you instinctively slap him across the face. Surprised, he jerks back, and you take a couple of shaky steps back again.

“Leave me be! I don’t want you near me.”

The old man’s eyes narrow at you and he takes one menacing step forward, his hand raising to strike you but you bring up your arms to block the slap, whimpering in pain when the hit lands and your phone clatters out of your hand. “You insolent child!” Your eyes squeeze shut and you hope Seonghwa gets there soon.

Seonghwa has never driven so fast in his life. He’s racing through the lights and he counts his lucky stars that they’re all green and that the police aren’t around right now. He can hear arguing coming from his phone and he’s calm enough knowing you’re at least still on the phone. But then he hears a noise and what he assumes to be your phone falling on the ground. “Fuck,” he mutters to himself. “Please, please be okay, (Y/N).”

Stepping on the gas, he roars around the corner to the club you mentioned, praying you’re still there. As he gets out, he’s looking around but can’t seem to find you. “(Y/N)?” he calls out. “Where are you?”

He races down the street to find you pinned against the wall, your hands attempting to push an old geezer away and he sees red. He marches right up, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from your shaking figure. “Fuck off,” he growls in his face, delighting in the fear that moves across his face. “Don’t let me catch you near this place again. Now fuck off!”

He practically throws the old man to his knees before turning and cupping your face. “Seonghwa,” you practically sob. He can still see the drunken haze in your eyes but it’s almost completely cleared up now and his brow furrows even more.

“Come on, I’m taking you home.” He pulls you along and you do your best to keep up with him in your inebriated state. “I can’t believe you would do this! Have you no sense of security? Why didn’t you get anyone to come with you? Why would you call a taxi outside of the establishment?”

He still opens the car door for you and you slide immediately in, eyes staring wide at the pristine dashboard. He slides in and puts the car in the ignition before sitting back and groaning in frustration. “I hope you’re ready to talk as soon as we get inside,” he gripes. “I still am so shocked, (Y/N). You act so mature about Jihee, but what happened then? You could’ve been hurt…no, you were hurt!”

He continues his rant driving up to your street, ushering you into the elevator and into your place. “Do you know how my heart dropped when I saw you struggling? I don’t want to see you hurt. You need to take care of yourself.”

As he yells at you, his eyes rake over you to see if you’re injured any further, but something else stops him and the words die in his throat. You’re wearing a sheer shirt, your lacy bra underneath just showing off your chest. Your leather skirt has ridden up your thighs and your eyes fill with unshed tears. And something burns in his brain.

It’s been months since he hired you, and with each passing day, he finds himself more and more attracted to you. He berated himself every time these unwanted thoughts popped into his head. Sure, you’re sweet, good with kids, and are passionate about what you care about. But you’re also so young. You can do so much better than him, a single father with no prospects.

But seeing you like this, heat sparks in his gut and he leans in, his face mere inches away from yours. “When you wear things like that, it makes me want to rip them off you and do things even that creep couldn’t even imagine,” his low voice pierces through your thoughts and your mouth gapes open.

“I’m okay with that,” you whisper, hand reaching out to brush against his chest, but Seonghwa blinks as he realises what he just tried to do, and he jerks back. Your eyes flash with hurt and Seonghwa would like to hit himself for doing that to you but he can’t let you come onto him when you’re still drunk.

“I– I’m sorry,” you whisper, your hands reaching behind you to steady yourself on the wall. “I just felt so lonely. I wanted to be wanted.”

Seonghwa’s breath stutters as he stares down into your wavering eyes. “I–” He wants you so bad. But he can’t bring himself to say it. Not when you’re drunk. “Go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”

He turns away and hears your disappointed sigh alongside your footsteps trudging to your bedroom. With a groan, he sits on the couch with his head in his hands. He wants to reassure you, but he can’t help but feel guilty about it. But he’s still straining in his pants and after locating your bathroom, he sits on the shower bench, leaning against the cool tile and breathing in and out. With a groan, he unzips his pants and pulls out his half-hard cock. The feeling of regret rises but he pushes it down to his gut as he spits in his hand and presses his thumb against the head of his dick.

As he wraps his hand around his cock and pumps it, he can’t help but close his eyes and imagine you. You with your mouth wrapped around his cock, with your hands gripping his thighs. You seated on his throbbing member, grinding your hips against him as you lean down to kiss him. He can feel his dick jump and he wonders what it’ll feel like to fill you with his cum.

He lets out a broken moan as his grip turns tighter. His image of you would scratch your nails down his back. He can almost hear your little whines and breathy moans as your hips work over him. You’d lean in and whisper into his mouth, “Seonghwa, fuck me hard,” and—

Seonghwa sighs as he looks down at his cum-coated hand and the mix of shame and relief swirling around his brain. Maybe he should just go to sleep on the couch and hope he doesn’t dream of you. As he washes his hand and goes to lie down, he can already feel a stress headache coming on. He hopes you’ll at least fare better in the morning.

When you awaken, you have a throbbing pain in your head and you groan and roll out of bed. You’ve taken your club shirt off as well as your skirt, but your bra and underpants are still on. You’re sure your makeup is smudged too and you have no clue how you got home but all you want is some coffee and oatmeal.

You trudge to the kitchen, rubbing your eyes from sleep. There’s a blanket fallen on the floor so you toss it onto the couch and head straight into the kitchen to start your coffee maker. As you lean against the counter and yawn.

“(Y/N), are you feeling better?”

A voice calls out from behind you and you shriek, whirling around to see a sleepy Seonghwa, blanket wrapped around him and his hair a mess. You shriek again, realising how little you’re clothed and duck behind the counter, your cheeks flaming and your heart beating faster than you ever thought it could.

“What are you doing here?” you force out, your voice tight.

“Do…do you not remember last night at all?” You do remember most of what happened. He took you home, but that’s about as far as you remember. And you’re not sure you want to know the rest of it. But you’re far too embarrassed to admit, so you put your acting skills to use. You’re not sure you can handle the shame of a real conversation.

“What?” you ask, forcing your voice to pitch higher as you slowly stand back up, hands covering your chest. “I didn’t– Oh my God, I’m so sorry if I came onto you. I was drunk, I must’ve been out of my mind. Please accept my deepest apologies.”

You notice Seonghwa’s eyes trail down to your chest and then snap back up to your face as if he’s forcing himself to and he chokes out a breath. Despite the headache, your mouth twitches. Maybe you’re still a little out of it. “No, nothing like that. I fetched you from the club because you called me to save you from a creep. Then I took you home and we slept.”

You sigh. “I’m glad. I do apologise for whatever my behaviour was. It was out of line and it won’t happen again. I understand if you want to let me go–”

“No!” Seonghwa’s outburst surprises you and your eyes widen. The lack of clothes you’re wearing has been long forgotten and you move around the counter to stand in front of him. Seonghwa has the decency to look a little embarrassed at the volume of his voice. “Sorry. I just…it’s like you’re a part of our family already. I care for you just as much as I care for Jihee.”

Ah. He thinks of you like a child. Your suspicions were right. You turn slightly to face away from him, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “I see. Well, I appreciate that. It’s nice to have a second family,” you chuckle, internally beating yourself up. How could you even entertain the thought of the two of you being together? “Let me change, and I’ll walk you out.”

As you return to your room, you finally let your heart sink as tears brim in your eyes. You hastily wipe them away as you rummage in the pile of clothes on your bed for something fairly appropriate to wear. First, you make a fool of yourself in front of Seonghwa, and then your crush is unfounded. You can’t seem to catch a break.

With a sigh, you pull on some shorts and a large shirt before heading back out. “Hey, (Y/N), could we talk first?” Seonghwa asks, still standing in between the kitchen and the living room as his eyes flit around nervously.

After some hesitation, you finally find your voice. “Sure? What’s up? You can sit on the couch if you want.”

Seonghwa takes a seat, hiking up his sweatpants and you move to the floor across the little coffee table. “Last night…you told me something.” Oh no. This is it. You bite your lower lip and look down, awaiting his next words. “Uh. So. You think you came onto me, right? Well. It was. Uh. It may have been me.”

You blink at him foolishly as your brain tries to wrap itself around your head. “You what?”

Seonghwa raises his hands and lowers his head ashamedly. “Let me explain, please. I saw you outside with that horrid excuse of a human and something in me snapped. I just wanted to protect you and I brought you home. But seeing you in that outfit? It just made me want you. And I told you. And you reciprocated. At least, you tried to.” He chuckles a little to himself, bringing up his hand to grip at his hair. “I told you we would talk in the morning. But one thing you said stuck with me. You wanted to be wanted. And all night I’ve been thinking about it. (Y/N), you were drunk. But you weren’t that drunk. Something you said had truth to it. Please. For my own sanity, tell me how you feel about me. Please.”

His voice cracks at the last syllable and something in your heart hurts at the sound. “Seonghwa I…I do care for you. More than I should. You’ve shown me unbendable compassion and you’ve never taken my words or myself for granted…or treated me like a child. Against my better judgment, I’ve fallen for you.” You sigh, tightening your fists. “I’ve been hating myself for the better part of six months because of it. You were so much better than me. In job, in maturity. What was I supposed to do? I went to the club to forget you, but it appears that didn’t work.”

Seonghwa stands quickly, shuffling over to kneel in front of you. “How could you think such a thing? Me better than you? Don’t make me laugh. I may be older than you, and yes, I have a better-paying job. But in the end, how could you compare? You’re amazing with Jihee. You’ve managed to teach her in ways I could hardly hope to imagine. And just because I have a higher wage doesn’t mean your job is less important. I wasn’t lying when I said it felt like you were already part of the family.”

“You told me you thought of me like Jihee,” you argue, and Seonghwa laughs, leaning forward to take your hands.

“I said I care for you as much as I care for Jihee. Not in the same way, (Y/N).” Seonghwa smiles kindly. “I know if this does happen we’ll need to put a lot of care into this, but if you’ll have me, I’d like to be with you.”

You’re not sure whether this is a dream or not, staring up at Seonghwa with wide eyes. You’d be a fool if you said no, but the worries in your head won’t seem to cease. Taking a deep breath, you push them aside and smile up at him. “I’ll have you, Seonghwa.”

As soon as the words fall out of your mouth you can see Seonghwa’s eyes crinkle as he smiles and leans in, his nose almost touching yours. “May I kiss you?” he murmurs in his deep voice, and instead of gracing him with a reply, you meet him in a soft kiss.

His large hands cup your face as he deepens the kiss, and his thumbs brush against your cheekbones. “You’re so pretty,” he hums, pressing a multitude of pecks to your lips. “Last night I was so conflicted. Seeing you like that made me almost go insane.”

An idea sparks in your brain, and a smile widens on your face. Your fingers crawl up his shoulders to rest your arms on them. “How insane?” you ask, and Seonghwa’s eyes darken.

“I’ll show you,” he grows before capturing your lips with his once again. This time his arms shift to wrap around your waist and he pulls you closer until you’re practically pressed against his body. You squeak at the sudden movement but it’s swallowed by the kiss.

He pulls you onto his lap and you can feel the growing hardness in his slacks. You wriggle your hips a little, grinding down, and the moan that Seonghwa lets out is heaven to your ears. “Fuck, (Y/N). You’re so pretty,” he repeats, burying his face in your neck and nipping at the sensitive skin.

You whine at the pain blooming into pleasure and your hands fist into his hair. Your precious sounds get to Seonghwa and he groans, moving your legs to wrap around his waist and he hoists you up and brings you over to the couch. “Your noises are so pretty, baby,” Seonghwa groans into your mouth. “Can’t wait to hear them when you’re wrapped around my cock.”

“Please–” is all you can muster out and your whines only serve to make Seonghwa’s cock harder in his pants.

With a groan, he pats your ass, motioning for you to move up. As soon as your hips lift, he grabs the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down to your knees, leaving your underwear and shirt on. In the same motion, he shoves his slacks and boxers down just far enough to let his cock spring free.

“Seonghwa–” you whine and something in Seonghwa’s stomach burns at the idea of you crying on his throbbing dick. He sits back, guiding you to sit right above his cock as he moves it to rub against your soaked underwear. Every time the angry-red tip of it brushes against your clit you let out breathy moans and it only serves to make Seonghwa impossibly harder.

“Fuck, I can’t wait any longer,” Seonghwa breathes, his free hand coming up to brush against your face. A smile blooms on your face as you bend to kiss him again.

“Then don’t.”

Something flips in Seonghwa’s brain and he lifts you, pushes your underwear to the side, and lets his cock press into you slowly. The both of you throw your head back and groan loudly at the feeling of him slowly filling you up. He’s not the biggest you’ve had but that doesn’t matter as the sting of the stretch is enough to make you drool. You can hardly speak as you whine nonsense into his ear and let your head drop to the crook of his neck.

“You fit around me so well,” Seonghwa praises, his head spinning at the feeling of finally fucking you the way he dreamed of. It was only yesterday he was fucking into his hand at the thought of you and here he is, only a few hours later, his painfully hard member inside of you. “Look at you, a mess for me. Bet you’ve never been with an older man before. Do I make you feel good, baby?”

You clench at his words. “Fuck, yes, the best I’ve had,” you babble, squirming at the already overwhelming feeling. “You’re so good to me.”

Seonghwa laughs delightedly at how gone you seem to be not five minutes in. “So precious, especially for me, (Y/N). Sitting on my dick so prettily.” He gives a little experimental thrust upwards and you gasp. The noises you make are so addictive, he can’t help but do it again. And again.

You’re panting, moaning as he fills you up so deliciously and your hands grip at his now-wrinkled dress shirt. His cool hands slide up your baggy shirt to shove up your bra and cup your boobs. The weight of them sitting in his hands makes him groan as he leans in to mouth at them through your shirt.

“Been dreaming about these tits since last night. Jerked off in the bathroom after seeing you, you know?” Your eyes widen at the admission and Seonghwa smirks at how embarrassed you look. “Wanted you so bad and you thought I wouldn’t like you in that way? You’re so cute, (Y/N).” He punctuates each word with one thrust after another.

The feeling of his dick pumping into you as well as Seonghwa’s teeth scraping against the soft flesh of your tits makes you so overwhelmed. It’s almost embarrassing how close you are already, and Seonghwa knows it, chucking up at you from between your chest. “Aw, baby, you’re so far gone. Am I that good?”

You cry out and sink your teeth into the junction of his shoulder and neck. You’re trying so hard to keep your noises down but Seonghwa isn’t having any of that. His hand finds its way to your hair, gently tugging on it until your head falls back, exposing the column of your neck.

As his warm breath ghosts over it, you stiffen, and when he moves up from your chest to lick a stripe up it and nip at your earlobe, you come with a groan. Your hips are shaking from the intensity of it but his thrusts don’t stop and soon you’re whining from the overstimulation.

And he still hasn’t come.

“Fuck, Seonghwa, it’s so much,” you groan, mouth hanging open. Seonghwa greedily swoops in to capture your lips once more, licking into your mouth as his thrusts become more and more erratic.

His dick twitches and he groans. “Where do you want me? I’m clean,” Seonghwa mumbles into your mouth.

You shift your hips a little. “I’m clean too and on the pill, so it’s on you. I don’t care, I just want you, Hwa.”

Your words spark something in Seonghwa and he thrusts upwards, once, and his cum starts filling you. It’s searingly hot, settling deep in your gut and you throw your head back and moan so goddamn loud. His throbbing cock is twitching like crazy and it’s still pumping cum into you. Seonghwa’s hand slides down your body to tweak at your nipples, thumb over your flesh, and finally come to rub little circles into your clit.

You gasp and it feels like you’re touching heaven from the extra stimulation. “Gonna fill you up so well,” Seonghwa groans. “Do you think Jihee would like a sibling?”

Your thoughts all blur together at his sentence and you come again with a groan. Your cunt squeezes around him so deliciously and a sob breaks its way out of your throat, one that Seonghwa eagerly swallows as he kisses you again.

His thrusts start to slow down and you slowly pull off his now-softening dick and settle back down on his lap. His hands push his leaking cum back into your pulsating pussy and you sigh at the feeling.

“Well, that was quite the escalation,” Seonghwa laughs quietly as he pulls both your and his pants back up and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. His hand pats your butt and you squirm and slap his chest softly.

“You’re lucky I’m on the pill.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly and Seonghwa hums, capturing your lips in his yet again. He can’t get enough of your plush lips and you’re not complaining at all.

“I’m lucky to have you, period,” he sighs happily. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

You smile and sit up, ignoring the whines that come out of Seonghwa’s mouth at the lack of contact. “Well, I couldn’t let you be a lonely old man,” you tease and Seonghwa smacks your ass again.

“Can old man do what I just did?” You’re suddenly lying on your back with Seonghwa hovering over you, a crooked smile growing on his face. “Or do you need another demonstration?”

You smile and throw your arms around his shoulders and pull him closer. “I don’t know, sir, maybe you should show me once more.”

With a nip to your lips, Seonghwa leans in and your eyes crinkle at the promise of what’s to come.

#kvanity #pirateeznet #wkcnet #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez angst #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fanfiction #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa smut #seonghwa angst

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delusionaldeadgirl · 2 months ago

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Adore Me

Spencer Reid x famous singer!reader

Summary: Spencer takes his friends to see his girlfriend at her live show in DC. He didn’t realize she was going to play a specific song about him that has him blushing and his friends joking about it

a/n: This is a random draft based on Juno by Sabrina Carpenter. It’s not chronological with the other one I posted. Nice comments are appreciated lol.

Spencer sat in the dimly lit venue next to his friends. The buzz of excitement filled the air as the crowd eagerly awaited performance of famous singer Y/N—who just so happened to be his girlfriend.

As the lights went down, the audience erupted in cheers. His heart raced as he looked at his friends. They were genuinely excited, especially Penelope. She had been talking about this ever since Spencer asked them all to come.

When Y/N stepped into the spotlight, wearing a stunning outfit that sparkled in the stage light, Spencer was left speechless. Her voice flowed through the crowd, captivating the crowd, mostly filled by young women. He couldn’t help but smile watching her interact with her fans.

Then she started singing one of her newest songs, one Spencer was surprised by when it started playing. One of Y/N’s most suggestive songs, obviously about him.

“Don’t have to tell your hot ass a thing. Oh yeah you just get it.”

“Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit. God bless your dad’s genetics”

Spencer blushed. Side eyeing Derek already knowing the look on his face and the playful banter that was to come. It was obvious to the whole room what the innuendos implied.

Derek leaned over, grinning. “Your girlfriend is something else, Reid. You sure you can handle all that?” Spencer stuttered trying to form a rebuttal but he like Emily always said “And just like that, IQ 187 is slashed to 60”.

The song progressed. Getting more and more suggestive making Spencer more and more bashful.

“I know you want my touch for life.”

“If you love me right then who knows? I might let you make me Juno”

His colleagues kept looking at him, trying to suppress their laughter at his reaction. “Looks like someone’s blushing” Emily joked.

“You make me wanna make you fall in love.”

“Oh, late at night I’m thinking ‘bout you, ah”

“Wanna try out some freaky positions?”

Y/N gets down on her elbows and knees looking directly at Spencer with a suggestive smile on her face.

“Have you ever tried this one?”

Spencer immediately buried is face in his hands. His friends hooting and cheering before they turned to look at his reaction. It was both thrilling and mortifying watching his girlfriend exude such confidence on stage. Thrilling because of how talented she is, mortifying because of how his friends were looking at him right now.

The song started to slow down a little, getting to the bridge. The most direct lyrics about to be sang. He was not mentally prepared for this.

“Adore me. Hold me and explore me.”

Y/N began to slowly walk over to the side of the stage facing Spencer.

“Mark your territory.”

“Tell me I’m the only, only, only, only one”

She sang making direct eye contact with him. He was so done. The team’s genius swore he was brain dead by how entranced he was by her.

“Adore me. Hold me and explore me.”

She sang again as she got down on her knees once more. Laying on her back suggestively.

“I’m so fucking horny.”

At this point the whole audience could tell who she was performing this song for.

“Tell me I’m the only, only, only, only one”

She sang one last time before getting back on and proceeding with the rest of the show.

Not only were Spencer’s friends speechless, but for what felt like the first time ever, so was he.

When the show ended, the crowd erupted in cheers once more as Y/N bowed, her eyes searching for Spencer in the crowd. The moment she spotted him, her expression softened, and she smiled excitedly.

After the show, Spencer approached her, still flushed. "You were amazing," he managed to say, his voice slightly shaky. "Thanks, babe! Did you enjoy it?" she asked, a teasing glint in her eye. “Uh yeah” he stuttered. “Maybe a little bit too much” Derek interjected with a laugh.

Y/N laughed, stepping closer. “You know, I was thinking about that song…”

Spencer swallowed hard, antsy to figure out where this was going. “Yeah?” he asked. “Maybe we can recreate it later” she whispered, winking at him.

His heart raced at her suggestion, and he felt both flattered and flustered. "I'd like that," he replied, unable to suppress his cheeks blushing even harder.

“So how about some after show drinks?” she suggested to the group. They all erupted in cheers of agreement.

As they walked out of the venue, Derek whispered to Penelope “I didn’t think Spencer watched anything but documentaries. How does he know what Juno is?” She just laughed shrugging her shoulders.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #mgg #spencer reid x y/n #spotify

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kroosluvr · 4 months ago

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The audience was awaiting the famed Detective Prince and the one-and-only Kasumi Yoshizawa who ended up no-showing... but two new skaters suddenly step onto the rink and make it a show to remember!

a fabricated stage... made for the detective prince and kasumi yoshizawa, filled with slogans and empty seats and mirrors that remind them that this isn't their stage... HOWEVER!!! THE SPOTLIGHTS ARE STILL ON AND THE RINK IS STILL ICECOLD SO ITS SHOWTIME BABYYYYY they throw all that expectation out the window and do their thing regardless AND WHAT A SHOW IT IS!!!!

i thinkthe fact that all the seats are empty is funny as fuck. no one came to see them...... but they got some fans throwing roses at the end!!! (in my head it's joker especially if this showtime is developed during long winter au so their Only other teammate Is joker.) (i havent rlly thoughgt abt When this happens tho teeheebonk... up to ur interpretation...)

i noticed in the other showtimes theres some that have like.. logos?? slogans?? namely the ryuji/yusuke makoto/haru haru/morgana and akira/goro ones so i DEFINITELY wanted to include that in here (i feel like most of the showtimes have stuff incorporatingtheir pthief names except for a few??? they hsld have included it in all ofthem its so cute)

figure skating... physically intensive and demanding sport that requires a lot of precise maneuvers and finesse which suits the two of them quite nicely!!

i wanted to include the "sayonara suckers" line. atlus why did u cut that out its so cute.

i think for these two you could def do a more serious showtime or a sillier/cuter one like this but since crow already got a pretty serious one w joker (and violet also w the flashback of kasumi and all) i went for Sillycute.... tho this could also be a little depressing if u think abt the premise KJFHKASDHAKSJ

goro is carrying her on his shoulder or something on the last page! i imagine after the slashes on pg2 he scoops her up nd spins her around and then the camera pans in on her then she waves but yeah. HEHEHEH

thinking abt it more the joker/violet and joker/crow showtime r kinda like acknowledging their past while this one acknowledges their future :’)))

edit: srry ikeep remembering more stuff . i think the idea of them performing on an empty stage, in a field (figure skating) that isn't either of theirs, yet enjoying it and havign fun regardless of how good they are, is super important to me KASDHAJKSDHA as long as its theirs, thats what matters...!! as long as they]re wholeheartedly THEMSELVES...!!!! who cares abt audience expectations or Who they want you to be or What you look like in the mirror!! you're still you!!!

this goes out to royaltriodaily on twt I HOPE U SEE THIS SOMEHOW UEUEEE UEEEE

#goro akechi #sumire yoshizawa #persona 5 royal #akesumi #violetcrow #cele draws #long winter

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luvsupa · 5 months ago

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002 | SIMPLE COMMAND.

tags: trueform!sukuna x fem!reader, part 2, angst- ish, servants are bullies, smut (not with reader) voyeurism, rough sukuna, tension, pet names, mdni idk what to add…

w.c: 2.1k

a/n: THANK U GUYS SM FOR THE SUPPORT ILYYY, and sorry for not posting I’m still sick 💔💔

+ likes and reblogs are appreciated!!

read part 1 here!

you stand in the bustling kitchen, surrounded by the clatter of dishes and soft murmurs, but your focus is solely on yorozu. across the room, her radiant smile seems almost mocking, out of place amidst the simmering tension.

before you can dwell on it, uraume’s sharp, commanding voice slices through the conversation. then, uraume calls for your name and the room falls into uneasy silence as all eyes turn toward you.

“sukuna-sama has requested that you serve their dinner tonight,” uraume announces, stepping closer. their unreadable gaze seems to pierce through you as they hand you a neatly folded note. “he has written specific instructions.”

your heart skips a beat, anxiety tightening in your chest as you accept the note. unfolding it, you scan sukuna’s elegant, almost taunting cursive. the message is simple, with just one instruction:

1. stay in the room at all times.

how hard could that be?

as uraume, the guards, and yorozu leave the kitchen, you crush the note in your fist, its crumpled edges digging into your palm. the other servants gradually disperse, their whispers fading into silence, leaving you alone in the now eerily quiet space. the reality of the task ahead sinks in, bringing with it a sense of dread you can’t shake.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *-

in the servant’s quarters, you and several maids are busy helping yorozu prepare for her audience with the king. she stands before the mirror, basking in her own reflection while hands smooth out her elaborate kimono and style her long, silky black hair.

“what do you think you’ll be discussing with the king, ‘yoro?” one of the brunette servants asks with a smirk, her tone dripping with mockery. yorozu, lost in her fantasies, bites her lip and replies, “oh, talking is the last thing on my mind—I just want him to take me all night.”

the room erupts with gasps and giggles, the laughter clearly aimed at you as you struggle to contain your frustration. yorozu’s smirk widens as she catches your eye in the mirror, her tone dripping with disdain. “i hope she doesn’t disturb us while we’re occupied,” she says dismissively, as if you’re invisible.

your anger flares as you stop assisting, the other maids’ laughter growing louder at yorozu’s harsh joke. the door swings open to reveal one of sukuna’s subordinates, who informs you that sukuna is returning from his mission. he orders you to head to the kitchen to prepare their food, while yorozu remains behind, awaiting her guard.

you rise with a mixture of relief and irritation, eager to escape the company of the insufferable women. with a quick nod to your superior, you leave the room, your frustration simmering as you make your way to the kitchen.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *-

you enter the kitchen for the second time today, finding everyone in a frenzy as they finish up the requested dinner, carefully plating the food. you notice that the larger plate, clearly meant for sukuna, holds what looks like real food—no flesh, no bones, just actual food.

“sukuna-sama requested his food now,” uraume announces, arms crossed, as they stand behind you. you nod, feeling a bit overwhelmed. carefully, you pick up the heavy plate, and the other guards help you with the rest of the meal.

as you step out the doors, your heart sinks at the thought of carrying this enormous plate across the king’s estate. it feels like sukuna has a twisted sense of humour, making you struggle with the weight.

you adjust your grip every few seconds as your clammy hands slip on the silverware. you huff and whine, feeling the guards’ impatient stares. come on, come on, you mutter, each step feeling like a mile, while they look on as if your struggle is a matter of life and death.

finally, you reach the familiar double doors, adorned with skulls and bones, which are already slightly opened. the guards set the food down and turn to leave, leaving you alone with the heavy plate.

“a-are you not going to help me bring the food in?” you ask, your voice tinged with desperation. you’re carrying the heaviest plate, after all.

one of the guards turns slowly to glance at you. “king’s orders,” he replies coldly before resuming his stride down the dark hallway. you’re left standing there, feeling like you’re about to collapse under the weight, as the door looms ominously before you.

you mentally curse them as you place each plate inside his room. pausing to catch your breath, you suddenly feel his menacing aura engulf you, sending shivers down your spine. you shut the door once all the food is inside, and as you step further into the vast estate, you take in the ancient artifacts decorating the room.

a glint of red light catches your eye, drawing you toward the opaque sliding doors adorned with intricate ancient art. despite your initial purpose in the room, you find yourself irresistibly drawn to it. sliding open the door, you step inside.

there, in the center of the spacious room, is a large king-sized bed and—

oh.

you see sukuna sprawled on the bed, his back resting against the ornate headboard. his eyes are closed in complete bliss, with two crossed behind his head. as your gaze travels downward, you catch sight of a female figure kneeling between his legs. her head bobs up and down with rapid intensity while sukuna’s hands guide her—one massaging her ass, and the other gripping her hair, clearly savoring the moment.

your eyes widen in horror, your mouth going dry as you freeze in place. the room is filled with the loud, lewd sounds of her gagging and choking on sukuna’s cock. you force yourself to look back up at sukuna, only to find his crimson eyes locked onto yours, piercing through your nerves.

“mmh, right on time, little one,” his raspy voice echoes through the room. yorozu tries to turn her head to see who he’s addressing, but his grip on her hair tightens as he thrusts his hips, the wet, squelching sounds filling the air. “yeaahh, take it all,” he growls, his gaze fixated on her as he pounds into her mouth.

you stand there, rooted to the spot, trying to retreat, but his voice halts you completely. “where do you think you’re going?” he breathes out, using yorozu’s mouth like a toy. “you haven’t served us our dinner yet, fool.”

fuck.

you completely forgot about the food you left outside the door as you nod, quickly turning around to grab the smaller, easier plate. sukuna’s gaze follows your every movement, ignoring yorozu entirely. you place both plates on a nearby table, bowing in respect and hoping to leave as swiftly as possible. but just as you’re about to exit, sukuna’s command echoes in your mind,

stay in the room at all times.

oh how calculated sukuna is.

it’s as if he’s reading your thoughts. as you stand frozen, realizing the gravity of his order, he laughs—a sound so chilling it sends shivers down your spine. “stand at the foot of the bed,” he commands, his smirk widening. your legs feel like they’re moving on their own, carrying you exactly where he wants you. sukuna pulls yorozu’s mouth away from his slick, covered cock, a glistening string of saliva still connecting her lips to him as she coughs, gasping for air, her face flushed.

in a swift motion, sukuna flips yorozu onto her stomach, her body bouncing on the soft mattress with a broken gasp. sukuna looms behind her, the sheer size difference between them almost sickening. he starts peeling off the clothes you helped her into. yorozu’s face is smeared with cum and saliva, her expression dazed and weak, her hair splayed messily around her. she gives you a feeble smirk as your gaze moves back up.

sukuna’s attention is completely on you. his four eyes lock onto you as he strokes his cock, the thick, veiny shaft glistening with pre cum. each slow, deliberate pump makes a loud, wet squelch, and he nearly moans with every stroke, catching himself just in time to suppress the sound. two of his eyes stay fixed on yours while the other two roam over your body, making you shiver and squirm as you squeeze your thighs together.

the scene is overwhelming. your cunt throbs uncontrollably, each pulse radiating a hot, urgent need. the sight of sukuna’s pleasure and yorozu’s submission heightens your arousal, the rhythmic throbbing between your legs becoming nearly unbearable. your desire builds with every movement, each squelch and grunt of sukuna’s making your breath come faster, your body aching for release.

he can smell how desperate you are, the way your arousal fills the air, making him smirk with satisfaction.

how pathetic, he thinks.

“upp we go baby, arch that fuckin’ back,” sukuna purrs, his hands lifting yorozu’s ass high, creating a lewd, enticing arch that he clearly revels in. he smacks her ass hard, making her jolt forward with a loud moan. the sight is almost too much for you. your cunt throbs with an insistent, pulsing rhythm, your body aching to be the one under his control, desperately wishing to be the focus of his ruthless pleasure.

two of sukuna’s hands grip yorozu’s hips, holding her firmly in place, while his bulbous, leaking tip teases her folds. he parts her slick slit, sliding up and down her leaky entrance, drawing a broken moan from her. the sensation twists painfully in your stomach as if you can almost feel his every movement inside you.

without a word, sukuna thrusts in, splitting her open with his delicious girth. she cries out loudly, her voice breaking as he begins to stretch her open. you watch, mesmerized, as she grows more incoherent with every inch of him, her babbling lost in a haze of pleasure. sukuna drives himself deeper into her, hissing at how tightly she clings to him. his hips pound into her at a relentless pace, the sound of their skin slapping together filling the room. you bite your lip so hard it hurts, fighting to keep silent, desperate to contain the sounds of your own moans.

dizziness clouds your vision. you know you should leave, but the fear of what sukuna might do if you disobey keeps you rooted in place. his presence alone is a threat, and you feel trapped.

yorozu’s moans and gasps are relentless, her body writhing beneath sukuna as he grins savagely. he leans forward- slamming his hips faster, bending her nearly in half, one hand gripping the back of her neck, pinning her down. all four of his red eyes are fixed on you as he came close to your face, his gaze intense and predatory, making it clear that you are as much a part of his game as yorozu.

“how badly do you want it, hmm?” he rasps, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. you nearly moan aloud, your thighs aching from the way you’ve been clenching them together in desperate need. sukuna doesn’t even glance at yorozu, his entire focus locked on you.

“s-so bad it hurts,” you manage to stammer, your voice trembling with desire. his grin widens, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he increases his pace. yorozu’s cries grow louder, her pleas for more blending with the frantic rhythm of sukuna’s thrusts. “fuckin’ slut,” he scoffs.

he leans back, his movements rough and demanding as he flips yorozu onto her back. her breasts jiggle with the impact, her long black hair splayed messily over the sheets. some strands sticking to her body. sukuna repositions himself with a smirk, the room heavy with the raw intensity of his lust.

suddenly, sukuna’s words echo in your mind,

it’s so easy to get in your head.

you push aside the noise and realize he’s burrowed deep into your thoughts, toying with you, testing how far he can push you before you crack. you’re nothing but a pawn in his game.

as you snap out of his trance, he notices and flashes a wicked smile. he knows all too well how much you crave him, how you think of him when you’re alone, how you only ever want to be with him.

“enjoy your dinner,” you blurt out, quickly sliding the door open and running away, having blatantly violated his command,

stay in the room at all times.

you can’t believe how easily he played his mind games with you once again. you speed down the dark hallway, not daring to look back at the skull-decorated doors.

how deep has he gotten into my head?

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen angst #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut

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tgcg · 1 year ago

Text

argument

its a big one

TG: alright this is probably a bust

TG: more i think about it how the fuck do you even make a marinara

TG: can i even alchemise cheese or do i gotta like alchemise the milk and curdle it myself

TG: how do you even curdle

====================

TG: make a goddamn

TG: curgler

TG: whatever

TG: internet archive gonna pull through

====================

CG: ALRIGHT DAVE

TG: shit

====================

CG: YOU BETTER BACK THE FUCK OFF. I DON'T KNOW WHERE IN BULGEMUNCHING VIRULENT FUCK YOU GET THE IDEA YOU HAVE ANY RIGHT TO TELL ME WHAT I SHOULD THINK ABOUT MY OWN GODDAMN PLANET. SORRY TO HAVE TO DEAL A BLOW TO YOUR IMPOSSIBLY INFLATED FUCKING EGO, BUT HAVE YOU EVER CONSIDERED THAT YOUR SIDE-EYE SLACKJAW HOPELESS DEADPAN BULLSHIT BEHAVIOUR IS ACTUALLY INCREDIBLY FUCKING CONTEMPTIBLE AND DOESN'T PUT YOU ABOVE OTHER PEOPLE? HAVE YOU CONSIDERED THAT?

CG: OR DID YOU JUST ASSUME FROM THE MOMENT YOU FOUND OUT I'M A REVOLTING FUCKING MUTANT LOWBLOOD FREAK THAT I'M SUDDENLY NOT ALLOWED TO LIKE THE IDEA OF MY LIFE MEANING SOMETHING AT SOME POINT?

TG: okay you are wildly misquoting me where the fuck did that come from

TG: also you scared the hell out of me

TG: im just trying to science some pizza here

====================

CG: OKAY THEN, DAVE! EXPLAIN TO ME AS WELL AS YOUR AMBLING ONE-NOTE SMOOTH EXCUSE FOR A 'THOUGHT'SPONGE CAN

CG: IN SOMEWHAT COHERENT TERMS, ALTHOUGH I KNOW THAT'S A TALL ORDER:

CG: HOW YOU SAYING MY ADOLESCENT DREAMS OF BECOMING A THRESHECUTIONER ARE "FUCKED UP AND IRONIC IN A NASTY ASS WAY" DOESN'T QUALIFY AS UNDERHANDEDLY KICKING ME IN THE MANDIBLE PRONGS!

CG: YOUR AUDIENCE AWAITS YOU WITH BATED BREATH! TAKE IT AWAY, M.C. BRAIN HEMORRHAGE.

====================

TG: okay i dont

TG: know how you got a hold of that phrasing because i said that shit in confidence

TG: get out of my business bro

CG: NEWSFLASH, ASSHOLE: THIS METEOR IS A PHYSICAL, LITERAL LOCATION WE'RE BOTH IN. IT'S NOT A FUCKING PRIVATE CHATROOM. THIS MIGHT BLOW YOUR PITIFUL MIND BUT PEOPLE CAN ACTUALLY HEAR OTHER PEOPLE TALK WHEN THEY HAVE TO SHARE A SPACE! BRO!

TG: ugh

====================

CG: AND IT'S VERY INTERESTING YOU ACCUSE ME OF MISQUOTING YOU, AND THEN SUDDENLY TURN AND SPOUT FROM THAT SHITTY DRONING GROANSHAFT OF YOURS THAT I'M INVADING YOUR PRIVACY WHEN I DIRECTLY QUOTE YOUR SMARMY LITTLE SHAMEGLOBES!

CG: WOW! TURNS OUT KARKAT IS ACTUALLY BEING GENUINELY FUCKING UPSET ABOUT SOMETHING — WHO KNEW, RIGHT? WHO WOULD'VE GUESSED THAT I ACTUALLY HAVE GENUINE COMPLAINTS TO LEVEL AGAINST THE PEOPLE WHO GO SPOUTING HOOFBEASTSHIT ABOUT ME BEHIND MY BACK TO THEIR ECTOSIBLINGS?

TG: no dude can you shut up a second

CG: I MOST CERTAINLY FUCKING WILL, THANKS FOR THE OFFER! I'M NEVER TELLING YOU A GODDAMN THING AGAIN, SO I HOPE YOU MANAGE TO GAIN SOME WRINKLES TO THAT VESTIGIAL FLAWLESS ORB FLOATING AROUND IN YOUR CAVERNOUS NUGBONE FROM ALL THIS. I HOPE IT WAS WORTH ALL THE EFFORT ON YOUR END.

TG: listen!!!!

====================

CG: MHM! MY AURICULAR CHAMBERS ARE WIDE OPEN!

TG: jegus

TG: okay

TG: i have no defense for my literal phrasing but how expeditiously did you shadowstep the fuck away after i said that

TG: because that is some shrek tier "princess and ugly dont go together" level misrepresentation of my sweet self

TG: like if this wasnt obviously a heated platonic argument we were having i would probably be digging what the reference even if it was a shitty trope

====================

TG: i just

TG: have been thinking about some things and none of those things have got an iota of a thing to do with you or your blood

TG: thing

TG: man

TG: i dont know why you think id be so pressed about your vein juice its like

TG: a normal ass color for a normal ass guy

TG: and obviously it was a major fucking deal from how you talk about it but it doesnt need to be anymore

====================

TG: the thing is i just dont like have the same attitude as you about fighting and stuff and thats not something i am getting into right now but i am gonna make it expressly clear

TG: that its just kind of fucked up for me to sit my ass down and listen to someone spew gold and medals and confetti colored shit going googoo all over tall and loathsome ass bloodletters he never knew

TG: and have him tell me he wants to be the best guy at combat since samurai fuckin jack

TG: and thats my capital B business believe me the emphasis is there

====================

CG: SO IS THIS ABOUT ME WANTING TO BE PART OF SOMETHING YOU DON'T AGREE WITH? BECAUSE THRESHECUTIONERS DON'T EVEN FUCKING EXIST ANYMORE. I LITERALLY COULD NOT DO THIS IF I TRIED AT THIS POINT, SO YOU CAN UNKNOT YOUR “KNIGHTY WHITIES” ABOUT IT.

TG: being anti-military is not my point but damn if it isnt a thing thats probably true anyways so good job sleuthing that out

CG: WHAT IS YOUR POINT, DAVE.

TG: bluh

TG: i just said i dont wanna talk about it man

====================

CG: OKAY,

====================

CG: OKAY.

CG: I MEAN. IT FEELS KIND OF IMPORTANT TO THE CONTEXT OF THIS WHOLE UNAMBIGUOUSLY PLATONIC ARGUMENT WE'VE BEEN HAVING

CG: WHICH I'M RELIEVED WE AGREE ON BY THE WAY

CG: BUT IF YOU DON'T WANT ME TO KNOW I'M NOT GOING TO WRING IT OUT OF YOU. IT'S FINE.

====================

CG: …IF YOU DECIDE AT SOME POINT THAT YOU WANT TO TELL ME THOUGH, MY RUMBLE VESSELS ARE STILL OPEN.

TG: i swear youre making those up on the spot at this point

CG: I'M KEEPING MY LANGUAGE'S ART ALIVE, DAVE. IT'S BASIC DECENCY TO THE PLANET THAT RAISED ME.

TG: heh

====================

TG: yknow we got these things called anatomical snuffboxes

TG: its got that right amount of vague nose wrinklage to it that i feel like youd be right at home saying that

TG: snug as a grub even

CG: WHAT PART IS THAT???

TG: its that little weird bone bit that sticks out on the back of your palm when you flex your thumb right

====================

TG: look

CG: HUH. LOOKING AT THAT IS KIND OF WIGGING ME OUT.

TG: yeah its kinda gross rose told me about it

TG: but anyways

====================

TG: are we cool

CG: I MEAN… I GUESS SO. YOU WEREN'T ACTUALLY INSULTING ME, RIGHT?

TG: hell no dude never

CG: OKAY. I COMPLETELY RESCIND THE MYRIAD OF WAYS I JUST INSULTED YOU. AND I'M SORRY.

TG: nah i know its just fluff at this point

====================

CG: I STILL DON'T APPRECIATE YOU TELLING ROSE THINGS I SAY TO YOU IN CONFIDENCE. THAT WAS BETWEEN YOU, ME, AND MY NOW NON-EXISTENT HOME PLANET ROTTING AWAY TO A CRATERED GRAY HUSK IN ANOTHER DEAD UNIVERSE.

TG: i swear that was like the only thing its just that she gets it and i cant keep my mouth from going on about the gettable stuff

TG: they call me the babbling brook the way my flows so audible

TG: i wont do it again

CG: NO,

====================

CG: I GET IT HONESTLY.

CG: I'M BASICALLY THE NUMBER ONE PROPRIETOR OF AIRED GRIEVANCES IN ALL OF PARADOX SPACE AND THEN SOME, AND I'D ALSO BECOME ITS BIGGEST HYPOCRITE IF I HELD IT AGAINST YOU.

TG: thanks

TG: but i mean

TG: at the gigantic risk of sounding uh

====================

TG: ………..

CG: ?

====================

TG: well

TG: i kinda just think youre better at being a guy to chill out and watch movies with than a guy to tangle fists with

TG: and i dont think theres anything wrong with being that

TG: i think its cool

====================

CG: …THAT'S AN ALARMINGLY BRAZEN OBSERVATION TO MAKE OF SOMEONE YOU'VE KNOWN FOR ABOUT THE SPAN OF SEVEN SEASONAL EQUINOXES, DAVE.

TG: i dont know what that means but it sure is probably

CG: AM I ALLOWED TO ASK WHAT EVEN GIVES YOU THAT IMPRESSION????

TG: i just got that inkling about you man

====================

TG: and you can do whatever you want with that info

TG: throw it in the load gaper or whatever if you want i dont really care

TG: give it a swirly and slam it in a locker call it a nerd break its glasses whatever

TG: but beyond this whole lord english thing weve got going on i am pretty content to never aggress my fellow man slash alien slash monster again if i can help it

TG: i think thats pretty fair given what thats been like so far

====================

TG: and yknow its cool to have some company when im waxing emotional over the narrative depth of click starring adam sandler which we are watching next by the way

CG: UGH, FIIIIIIIIINE. JUST TO MAKE UP FOR CALLING YOUR THINKPAN SMOOTH AND SUPERFLUOUS.

====================

TG: score

TG: we should argue all the time

CG: SNRK

#davekat #dave strider #karkat vantas #homestuck #meteorstuck #comix #argument

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sevikastrapjuice · 6 months ago

Text

🎥 | the campaign

pairing: kenji sato x fem!reader

words: 3758

synopsis: [name] [surname] is a world-renowned model and was scouted to do a campaign with Japan's sweetheart, Kenji Sato for the well-known brand, Calvin Klein.

author's note: the one-shot is intended for mature audiences, as it contains sexual descriptions.

Owner of a caring personality and a body to die for, [name] [surname] has conquered an assertive place in the industry as one of the highest paid models. You always wanted to pursue a career in modeling; living abroad and helping out your family as you climbed the social ladder with the main goal of rubbing shoulders with the most influential people. It seemed to you, like an amazing idea, and closer to obtain than you could ever imagine.

In this particular day, [name] was absolutely stoked about the new campaign ahead! She had been working out, taking care of her body and maintaining a healthy diet. Everything in her power to be as prepared as possible for the photoshoot, later in the day.

At this moment, Reika, your best friend and manager, is lecturing you about how everything is going to happen. Brand details; location; the campaign itself...you always loved to get ready for a photoshoot. The thrill of meeting a new team was different every time and the butterflies, anxiously flying inside your stomach were no different as well.

"So, Reika, can you please stop with all this secrecy thing and tell me about the campaign! I know it's a "couple's" photoshoot so...who'll be my pair??" your air quotes, paired with your disgusted expression and eye roll, made Reika laugh at the sight of you. She knew the time would come, when she would have to reveal it to you...she was hopeful your attitude about it would be professional. She knew how much you hated Kenji Sato.

"Sooo...you'reshootingthecampaignwithKenjiSatothat'sit" the manager's fast speech caught you off guard, [name] could tell the information Reika had for her wasn't gonna be to her liking and she was right.

"Can you stop joking around and just tell me, like a normal person?"

Sure, she could announce that information to you but Reika knew that, even though your job required professionalism and seriousness, you couldn't maintain those attributes when it came to working; interacting; or even talking with/to Kenji. Reika knew how you fell about him and, consequently, your reaction was deeply awaited by the woman in front of you.

"You're shooting the Calvin Klein campaign with Kenji Sato... — you open your eyes, as wide as you possibly can, Reika doesn't even let you start a sentence, immediately interrupting your train of thought — I know! You don't like him and even though, I'll never understand why...I feel obligated to tell you that this photoshoot is more important than anything else"

You muttered in utter disbelief, baffled by such a disrespectful decision made by the people surrounding you. Reika crosses your arms, looking at you and as she frowned, you stopped.

"Right, okay, fine! Let's do this shit! The sooner we launch the campaign, the faster I can get rid of that cocky player" your reply caught Reika off guard as she was expecting you to react obnoxious and childish. She smiled and placed a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it up and down, showing you some sort of support.

"That's the spirit! Now, get ready! We need to get going." her eye smile makes you relax a bit, reaffirming how calming of a personality Reika has and how it affects your mood.

Grabbing the keys to your convertible on top of the kitchen counter, you two leave the house, full of excitement and expectations about the important photoshoot ahead you. "Body" by Megan Thee Stallion blasted on the radio, listening to music was your way to get into the photoshoots and interviews. One of the instruments you adopted to feel yourself and hype, music! Oh, and what an amazing way to calm your nerves, always worked. You always made sure to show up to your events or shoots with some treats for the team, and this time was no different! You stayed up, baking the night away, but the little cupcakes tasted, not to brag, divine.

As you pull up to the studio, Reika helps with the cupcake boxes. The ambience smelled so delicious, who knew that, besides being the hottest model in the world, you could also dribble in the kitchen world. A box full of surprises.

The photographers were awaiting you, as you were the last one arriving at the studio. Seeing all those people looking at you made you feel somewhat uncomfortable, as your cheeks automatically gained a dusted shade of red. You are a model, but you hate being the center of attention, especially the wrong one.

"Hello [name], I'm Kaito Hamato, I'll be the director for this shoot. It's so nice to meet you. Behind you it's your fitting room, the clothes are organized accordingly so, whenever you're ready" his smile was patient, you could tell he was nice by the way he guided you to the fitting room. The moment you enter that room, everything clicked! You'd be wearing lingerie in the same vicinity as that cocky player who thinks everyone is obsessed with him. You hated that. Sure, you couldn't deny, he sure was nice to look at, but either way, your focus on your job was way bigger right now.

Sitting in front of the mirror with your eyes closed as the makeup artist finishes your makeup, you couldn't help but to feel another presence in the area. Could be a heavier presence, meaning, a male one. It was until you heard the squeak sound of the makeup chair a few inches from you, that you slowly opened your eyes, only to see THE Kenji Sato sitting next to you, getting his makeup nice and fresh again.

The slow eye roll you gave him, made him chuckle. That reaction of yours was always automatic at the sight of him.

"Wow, I didn't even said a word! Is that the power I exude over you? I'm flattered" his sarcastic and overconfident tone was sending you through the roof, you couldn't help but to squeeze your hands as hard as you could, making them get a shade lighter, such was not your annoyance expression.

"You're a complete prick, I hope you know that" your disgusted semblant is noticeable for miles and miles, you promised Reika to be civil and respectful but...with such an idiot by your side, those promises are sort of impossible to keep.

"Prick, huh? Trying out a new nickname, are we?" Kenji slightly lifts his eyebrow, pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek and looking at you for a hot minute. He won't even try to deny, he loves that game you two play. Still, he seems to not understand why the cold shoulders from your end, but how he loved to tease you. You were so easy for him to tease and make angry.

"Baby, you wish you had that much importance to me" the makeup artist gives you permission to get up from the chair, telling you to step into some other room to change outfits. The talk between you two ended as soon as you told Kenji you'd see him in a few minutes for the photoshoot.

In the makeup room, he runs his hands through his hair, shook by this interaction. It's not that he didn't want to have that intimacy with you, because believe me, he was thirsty for it. But reaching you seemed too impossible, not even the most difficult women to conquer were as difficult as you have been.

When he received the campaign's proposal with you, he was thrilled, as he thought that, finally, he would have a chance to spend more time with you. Your encounters always seemed too fleeting for him, and he hated that.

"Mister Sato, [name] is ready to start shooting the campaign, we just need you, to start." Kaito informs, with the tender smile that characterizes him. Kenji nods and then gets up. His pecs, covered in oil for a wet look and the boxers that highlighted his body in a completely sensual way were all the directors needed to make sure the campaign was a success! Kenji was Japan's sweetheart after all, so would it be too soon to say, the campaign would be a worldwide phenomenon? I guess not.

"Is the princess ready?" your voice echoed in his ears, he was about to talk back at you when he completely froze. The body that stood in front of him, was also oiled up, highlighting your muscles and abs, as you crossed your arms the Calvin Klein bra made your breasts the center of attention. Seeing you like this drove Kenji wild, it was like he was seeing you in a different light, like a woman and not one of his one night conquests.

"Let's do this thing!" his absence of a comeback made you wonder what happened, he always had something to say and something to do in order to make you mad. You frowned but soon relaxed and agreed.

"So, this is a couple's campaign. I'll give you the directions, just follow them to the best of your abilities. [name] please, kneel in front of Kenji and straddle his legs. Make sure to lean forward."

While you're getting ready, one of the other photographers is helping Kenji out with his pose. He is seated with one leg bent and the other extended, holding your waist with one hand while his other hand rests on your thigh. You're are facing each other closely, foreheads touching, creating an intimate and affectionate moment. His cold hands make you instinctively shiver in contact with your warm skin. Your reaction caughts Kenji by surprise but it's pleasant to him, seeing you react to his touch.

Reika is happily observing the moment, feeling butterflies in her stomach and obsessing over your interaction with Kenji. She always thought you guys looked amazing together and when Calvin Klein reached out to her to discuss the next campaign, she was actually more excited about it than you.

"You smell really good" Kenji whispers, trying not to draw the photographer's attention as they're correcting your positions. You can't help to shyly smile as you hear his low voice next to your ear.

"T-thanks! You smell really nice as well" your voice sounded different than before. It was smoky, almost soft spoken, way different from the rough tone you used with Kenji earlier. Your cheeks, now painted a dusted coral shade, showed Kenji how comfortable you were with him. His broad smile, showing off his straight teeth could make you melt right there.

"Right kiddos, let's try another pose, this one was amazing. We're leaving for lunch after this one. I want to see something fun, out of the box. Kenji please use this chair, you sit on it and spread your legs. [name], you go sit at the edge on Kenji's knee."

You two do as you're told. However, you can't help but to add some details to the pose as you slightly bend down at the waist, leaning forward with your hands on the thighs. You're now dressed in the same grey lingerie and a denim jacket. Both of you can see the contentment in Kaito's face, his semblant was contagious.

Kenji's knee in contact with your pulsating cunt makes it hard for you to keep controlling your moans. He can feel this pose has some affects, as your pussy keeps getting warmer by the pose you guys are doing. Sato smirked and decided to add his own twist on the pose, grabbing your hair making you face the ceiling as your hands automatically go behind your back, holding onto his thighs. The photographers watching could feel the heat of the moment surrounding the studio, Kaito was living for every second of the photoshoot, he could see the billboards; the money; even more fame for the both of you; it was all coming together.

"Perfect! I can see this campaign will be grand guys. We'll have a lunch break now, feel free to change Kenji and [name]. See you in 40 minutes."

While the team prepared to head out for lunch, Kenji and you completely desfigured the pose you were in, relaxing a bit and heading off to each other's fitting rooms. Your heartbeat was increasing it's pace, you thought it might explode! Suddenly, he didn't piss you off that much? It was weird to think but, having in consideration the state he left your pussy during that fucking pose, it was appropriate to claim he left your heart skipping a beat.

It was just you and Kenji in that studio, he was in his fitting room and you in yours. For some odd reason, his shoulders and back hadn't left your mind, it's like those attributes of his were glued to your memory and refused to leave.

"Did I turned you on that much?" you froze, causing a huge vibration to run through your body, almost causing your trembling legs to collapse right there. Looking in the mirror in front of you, Kenji was pervertedly checking you out, measuring every inch of your almost naked body. His side smirk just caused you to feel even warmer for him.

"D-dont, don't know what you're talking about" The undeniable shake in your voice was everything Kenji needed to hear before turning you around to face him. Your face in between his long fingers as he squeezed those soft cheeks of yours, he loved when you had to look up at him and he loved putting his strength upon you, so those pretty eyes of yours would become teary.

"C'mon baby, I felt it! That warm pussy of yours gave you away"

As he kept squeezing your face in between his fingers, his other hand made a sinful path from your breasts, down to your stomach, reaching the soft material of your underwear. He'd look down and up, seeing you widen your eyes at his bold attitude. His cold hand, making it inside your underwear, touching your pussy, made you whimper and close your legs as the cold impact sent you shivers up your spine. Your hand, griping onto Kenji's forearm, would be filled with nail digging marks. The stimulation felt good and all but you needed freedom to talk to him when the moment required you to.

"Don't be so full of yourself Kenji" your words came out with some difficulty, that muffled voice of yours, by the position your mouth was in was making you anxious. You wanted to use your words as clearly as possible, without shaking or revealing any weakness, but how could you? Kenji was driving you crazy.

"You've been playing hard to get ever since you arrived, darling" Kenji slowly releases your face, caressing your cheek as a final contact. Your eyes meet, staring at each other, communicating everything you wish to say in words during your eye contact.

"I don't think I'm gonna last that long if you keep teasing me like that" your voice was needy, your entire body craved his touch. Surprise clouded his features, as Kenji's cat eye looking eyes darkened in pure desire.

"Always so impatient, beautiful? I can work with that." He remarked, guiding you towards the fitting room's couch, laying you down gently.

Kenji can't resist to pinning you down, placing each arm on each side of your shoulders and opening your legs with the help of his knee, positioning his leg in the middle of your bottom limbs. Your impatient whimpers make Kenji smile in satisfaction at the effect he has on you. The female body underneath Kenji, trembling at his invested knee contact against the thin fabric of her panties.

"Please...I beg you Kenji, fuck me" you desperately gasped at Kenji's touch against the fabric of your panties, almost begging him to tear them off your body.

"You sound so good using that pretty mouth of yours to beg for it. I'll make sure you have a great time" his lips get stuck like glue to your neck, you could mentally count the kisses and melt at the same time. Your nails, scratching his nape made him go wild, he couldn't control himself anymore, Sato needed you.

With one fast move, your panties are long, ripped apart, forgotten in some corner. You open your eyes in surprise, feeling thrilled at the moment. As your faces drew closer, the world around them seemed to fade away. His lips were soft and inviting, a perfect match for the warmth of your own. Their breaths mingled, a sensual and needed dance of anticipation and desire. A tentative brush that sent shivers down their spines, growing deeper and more urgent as you two surrender to the moment. Your tongues, working in unison to create a hot environment, you both needed each other.

"O-oh my...God! I can't- please- fuck me-" You said in between the kiss, your hand gently reaching the waistband of Kenji's boxers, feeling his pulsating cock in the palm of your warm hand. He grunts as soon your hand touches his member in despair.

He stands up quickly, Kenji's boxers already around his ankles. His massive cock makes you gag in shock by the size of it. Precum already sliding down his swollen tip, making you salivate.

As you're admiring his full body, you feel in your mind the need to sit down on the couch, opening your legs to him. The bralette is long gone as well, revealing that amazing set of tits of yours.

"Sit on my face, I want to taste you" Kenji walks towards you, laying down on the couch. He bites his bottom lip, seeing you get close to his face. Each leg of yours on each side of Kenji's head, his warm breath in contact with your clit makes you shiver. He pushes you down, grabbing onto your thighs, squeezing them tightly and aggressively. Your loud and startled moan echoes in the fitting room, his wet tongue drawing circles around your clit makes you reach out for his hair, grabbing onto it. With one hand on Kenji's locks, the other one is free to start masturbating the man underneath you.

The man's vibrating whimpers make you ride his face as you feel your pussy getting wetter and wetter. His cock is too big in comparison with your hand, that keeps stroking the full extension of his pulsating member. He was looking at you, riding his face without mercy, like a life size dildo, he was enjoying it so much.

"FUCK- I'm- gonna come" you thirsted your hips back and forth, riding Sato's face faster as you start feeling a buildup of pleasure, the tension accumulating in the lower region of your stomach was an indicator of the orgasm ahead.

His tongue movements increased rapidly, he wanted to provide you with the most intense orgasms.

As you're feeling contractions in your genital area, accompanied by involuntary muscle spasms, a sense of euphoria feels your body. You can almost hear your hear beat increase abruptly as you reach your climax. Can't help but to smear your cum all over Kenji's face who, satisfyingly smiles seeing how much he made you cum.

"Lay down gorgeous, I'll make you cum again...but now, on my dick"

With a fast and simple move, for Kenji, he switches positions, getting on top of you. He positioned himself between your legs, rubbing his wet hardness against your needy opening, begging to be ravished by Kenji's hard wood.

All this teasing got your body going into a frenzy, as he pushed his cock inside you, you pushed him closer by hugging him. Your lips went directly into Kenji's neck, biting it and sucking on it, suppressing your gasp as your pussy was getting stretched by the extension of Sato's dick.

Kenji's manhood, hitting your g-spot several times made you dig your nails through his entire back. He was loving the way your body was reacting to being fucked by him, your eyes, getting blood shot from all the pleasure and all the heat was unbearable for him to watch without wanting to destroy you.

"My dear Lord, you're so mesmerizing like this, I could get used to fucking you every day" Every word, every stroke, every moan was a demonstration of how much the both of you were enjoying each other's bodies.

You put your wrist on your mouth, biting down onto it, you're grasping for air at this point! Feeling your neck tense up, hurting so hard that it's good. Kenji's blood flow on his genitalia was building up, indicating an orgasm. He feels his heart rate, muscles and neck tense as your pussy walls make it hard for him to escape your insides. Both of you are going to come, sooner or later.

"You're- that- fuck...that pussy of yours...so addictive...I'm gonna cum baby" His face, now facing the ceiling, reveals to you, his climax is near, as well as yours.

"Me to-too daddy...cum inside me...p-please cum inside my pussy" Your voice sounded desperate, you needed this, completion for both of you was near and you couldn't stop thinking about his warm cum dripping from the inside of your needy cunt.

You arch your back and squeeze your tits as your eyes seem to go crazy, going into the back of your head. Kenji on the other hand, pushes one hand down on your stomach, feeling his huge cock inside your body and it makes him go feral. By instinct, you wrap your legs around his waist, making it impossible to escape your embrace and carve nonsense lines with your nails all over his back. You two were coming in tune, each other's cum getting mixed up inside you felt so good.

"You're such a good girl!" He says, a little out of breath, while removing his cock from your inside your pussy, admiring how much cum is dripping onto the couch.

"And you're a sex god!" You smile, stealing a passionate kiss from him. Your body felt totally different, lighter, almost like you were getting drunk off the smell of sex hovering everywhere in the fitting room.

"Kenji? [name]? Are you guys in there? Let's continue on with our photoshoot!" Kaito's voice was heard from the outside of the fitting room. The two adults inside got up, eyes widened. Analyzing the room would give the impression an hurricane went by and destroyed everything (and everyone! *wink wink*)

"We. Are. Fucked."

Both of you said in unison. You guys were in fact, fucked!

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