#goosebumps commentary | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kooyabooya · 3 months ago

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m reader x dahyun // 9k words

(shoutout to @passingnotions for allowing me to adapt this idea <3)

“I have her here waiting at the desk if you’re ready to see her, sir.”

“Perfect. Send her up.”

It’s peculiar for these kinds of rumors to circulate given her status - and even when the sounds of her heels click off against the polished tiles and get gradually louder; until she steps past the open door and into the oval office, you still can’t put together why she’s a controversial topic in the first place.

“I’m glad that we can finally have this arrangement,” you say, glancing over the more she makes her presence known, “Overseer.”

It’s as simple as it sounds:

She’s the regulator. You’re the higher-up. It’s your job to assess, determine, and take action.

And the roles exist for a reason, and every system has its necessary balance. Nobody gets out of line, and nobody ever questions the orders that come from the superiors. Everything feels right in its place, between the people and where this institution stands, but there’s one catch that you’ve sought yourself to see out personally, after hearing some peculiar commentary building up with various faculty members.

This very woman standing in your quarters exudes this infectious aura that sweeps up the whole room. In the case of the students, it would send a chill down their spine, get a few beads of sweat to form in the palms of their hands and foreheads - a quick breath beneath their lips as they tense up because despite not being the main person in trouble, and she makes them feel that way regardless.

“I would like to know why you asked to see me in the first place,” she says, face stoic as she settles into the seat, gaze locked with yours, “Hopefully this isn’t about what we discussed the other time, is it?”

Something in the way that she sits, and how the two-piece set of her dress rests along the line of her shoulders, how her eyes dart through yours when you’ve caught yourself staring a bit longer than expected. Make the goosebumps along your arms stand up underneath the sleeves.

“It’s partly that,” you answer, pinching the edge of your cuff, hoping to divert the attention of death staring in your direction. “Among other things.”

“Meaning what, sir?”

Breaking eye contact, the formality alone snaps some composure into you. To recap: you’ve been in and out of meetings all day, talking about future plans to implement amongst the student body and faculty; then there was some discrepancies that was dealt with from past incidents brought to your desk, but the common thread from these accounts all pointed to the same thing:

“It’s about your recent-” the pause alone of the intended word hanging between your lips makes the Overseer puzzled about this discussion (though with the implications through the reports sitting on your desk, tell a different tale).

“-modes of conduct.” You tell her, which only earns a quirked eyebrow and a nod, signaling that you’re right. “I’m sure you’ve heard what’s been going around between the other staff members and what not, Dahyun.”

Even the name alone sometimes sends chills to your body. Overseer Kim Dahyun: the academy’s best instructor. Lead figure when it comes to dishing out disciplinary measures to those who were stupid enough to go against the rules. Once she has someone that’s out of order, it’s automatically assured that there won’t be any further incidents coming from them moving on. You’ve looked at the written reports, noticed that there’s nothing worth putting against someone like her with the reputation that she carries, but no one ever really stays perfect for this long.

“So tell me, Superior,” Dahyun begins, one leg over the other in her chair while you continue with the glacial pacing around the office, “What is it that you have heard about me, circling around with the other staff in the past weeks?”

“I guess it’s mainly the latter, the ‘forms’ of discipline you’ve been committing with various students.”

“What about them?”

“That's the reason why I’m having this discussion with you in the first place.”

Dahyun tilts her head down, eyes wandering the opposite direction, reflecting almost as her mind tries to piece the different shards of information rummaging about in her head. She’s one to not leave anything unchecked - down to the minute detail possible. Intricate in the way that she does her line of work, and meticulous with how she wants things to be done. She also gets along well with others to which they speak highly of her. You wouldn’t want to call these accounts ‘accusations’; not yet, until you’ve seen both ends of the scope before drawing up a solid conclusion.

She turns her head around to see you at the tray table next to the door, tending to the two glasses of water before a wave to the keypad locks the deadbolt into place, to ensure privacy and know that someone will eventually knock without even going to the front desk in the first place. “This is a first for me, especially coming from you, questioning my methods.”

“I don’t see what you mean,” you tell her, making peace with the glass in your left hand to which she accepts, “I’m only aware of the stories that were told in recent weeks.” Dahyun acknowledges with a sip, eyes still trained on you now on the other side of your desk, “Let this be a simple conversation between you and I, please.”

“Okay then,” she remarks, handing back the empty glass once she’s done with it, “I’ll ask this again: What is it that you’ve heard about me that caused this whole debacle in the first place?”

Her look shifts up, maintaining her posture, hands resting on her lap. There’s a few strands in her hair that look out of place, but most of it is neatly tied up in the bun hanging low behind her head. She knows that she holds this sort of entitlement, this status - even from the glances alone in all sorts of seriousness tell you not to mess with a woman like her if you were a student.

But you’re not.

The lift from her eyebrows, above the upper rims of her glasses, prompting you to answer. It’s all in your head, right there, the only problem is how the delivery is going to hit her. You have every right to feel bad to be the bearer of not-so-good news, but it’s the part of the job, and the more you stand there in silence with her looking up waiting for a reply, adds on the slow building tension in the room.

You’re reminded however, of the actions she committed.

“We have an issue, technically it’s not really an issue, yet.” Dahyun’s gaze twists at that, but it isn’t a look of clear confusion, moreso thrown off at the very topic of discussion. She scoffs, slightly amused, and you can’t blame her for giving that reaction. “Though it’s been brought to my attention in the past few days.”

And in terms of issues, there’s hardly any throughout the academy; thanks to the dedication towards molding the best and brightest students into civilized beings for the real world. Most of these incidents come at a scarce occurrence alone - but it still happens even if it’s an ordinary day throughout the week.

She blinks twice, maybe thrice, turns her head away, fixated on the edge of the desk still. Her hands mold together with a small unease, but she still looks empathetic with how her eyelids flutter in the small lines of breaking light past the windows.

“So say it then,” she says, tone flat - like in her lectures or when having a one-on-one conversation with a troubled student outside the hallways, “since you’re always so on top of the loop with the faculty here.”

The prompting. It’s so on brand for her to be like this - to set someone else up as a way for them to keep their attention, carrying on with the conversation till she finally has that satisfaction with the answer. There’s some admiration for her, in the way that she doesn’t back down from a disagreement, because she’ll always see it through no matter what the circumstance may be. It’s her strength, and also her weakness, but she’s good enough to not let it show on her face.

At some point you were afraid of her, something that you can admit to yourself from a long while ago. Not a lot of people at the academy even really liked her because she’s extremely intimidating, and that still seems to be the case now. Though, with all of the different events spread out across the place, some of the roses were given in her effort to come out of her shell which she takes your encouragement. It’s in those rare moments where she laughs or smiles, like a blue moon passing in the night sky.

You remember the task at hand, what needs to be done.

“It’s about the students,” you tell her, air slipping through your upper lip as a way of preparation, “I’ve been told by a few individuals that you’ve been having an affair with one of them.”

“What!?”

“This is all just speculation,” you say, settling into your chair as Dahyun keeps her posture upright and composed, “Hence you being here to tell me your side of the story so that we can try to line up the two different perspectives together.”

“That’s what this is about?”

“Dahyun.” That sense of professionalism has to be cared for. An eye to the desk to the few different reports that insinuate a wrongful framing; some of them were just verbal accounts and had to be on the record, but the whistleblower tip in the form of a post-it note already caused quite a stir around the teachers lounge.

“All of this is unbelievable.” She plucks her glasses away from her face, catching a few wisps fall out from their spot on the top of her head, clearly irritated. “I have- I have not. In no way those accusations are true.”

You pull your lips inward, trying to be sympathetic as much as possible in addition to being transparent. Her eyes darted back at yours, fully interested as to what you might say next. She expects an answer, and you’ll give it to her, but all you do is raise an eyebrow to where she scrunches her eyes in response.

“Are you sure?” To that, Dahyun rolls her eyes. You notice a quick pull from one of the corners of her lip, shuffling the small stack of files off to the side, leaning closer with both elbows on the wood. “I hope you realize that if you are withholding information from me, it can lead to harsher consequences.”

Dahyun clasps her hand to a fist, face still as stone as you watch her eyes sweep across the floor. A heavy bundle of air leaves your chest, keeping your gaze locked to her, waiting for an answer within the next moments or so. She knows that she can’t shy away from this, and she knows that the only direction to take is the one where truth is the sole passage. It’s also very interesting the way she doesn’t falter, sheltering her emotions inside. You’ve only seen her be the opposite of that - only once, a spell ago, and you were convinced that it was only a one time thing. The silence seems to get louder in the room, and she finally shifts her eyes back to you.

“Well?” you ask, to break the tension a bit, “You’re not my enemy here. I just want you to be as open and honest as possible.”

You can see the slightest clench at the bottom of her jaw, gritting her teeth behind her lips. There’s that thought of clear common sense, telling you that what she did was wrong, but that’s just one side of the story. Sure, that someone who created the rumor might’ve done it out of spite, or maybe they wanted to see Dahyun in a state of panic just for the fun of it. Some will say one thing, and others will say another. The only way that you’ll know for sure to make all of this go away is the personal statement directly from her.

“Overseer.” You huff, sighing out of pure annoyance.

Her brows crunch in response to the title.

“I need to know. That’s all I’m requesting of you right now.”

She sets herself square on the seat, facing you; she’s matching your height now in a sitting position, but despite the lack in length is replaced with the demeanor that she carries. There’s been some sort of competition thrown around by the students, talking about how Dahyun’s figure comes second to none with the likes of Jihyo or Mina to name a few. Gawking at the fellow staff members who caught wind of the conversation is what you give them, and it would take a metric fuck-ton of persuading to spill an answer out of your lips.

Still no answer from her as of this second.

“Overseer Dahyun,” voice now in a much lower register than usual to punctuate the gravity of the situation, “We don’t have all day; so either you fess up now, or I’ll carry on this conversation tomorrow if I’m not going to get it out of you today.”

Running her upper lip inward, you carry on with the scattered paperworks spread across the desk as she contemplates, unwilling to make eye contact with her while she keeps her eyes focused on you. By all expectations, you were hoping that this meeting would be quick and easy; just get the required information before writing up a report and be on your way. Still, you can’t help but think as to why she’s being so reluctant about saving her status let alone her job - all because she didn't do something that had very little significance to her and became such a big deal.

“Fine,” you say, slapping the pen lightly on the desk before beginning to stand up from the chair, “Just forget that I asked and you can-”

“One.” she finally says, after what felt like an eternity it seems. And then again, “One.”

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere,” you start, falling back onto the seat; Dahyun collects herself with the subtle rise and fall of her chest, breathing carefully. That crucial first step was already taken, and the plan in your mind to diminish this whole controversy is slowly scaffolding into place. “So I’ll ask this once again in a different way: Are you having an affair with one of the students in the academy?”

“Yes.”

“Is it…just the one?”

“Just the one.”

Despite how this information may be shocking to a degree, composure has to be kept from this point on. You’re just simply doing your job as the superior, and if this doesn’t get solved quickly, there’s more people in higher places than you that will do what you couldn’t.

“So,” you set yourself up for the next connecting inquiry, “I want a full explanation for this, as to when and how all of this came to be.”

Dahyun licks her lips, unsure if what she’ll say next will either be her saving grace or a shortsighted opportunity breeding on disappointment. You can easily tell that she’s uneasy, and it’s very impressive at how she’s able to keep an expressionless face for an instance like this. Put anyone else that works here in her seat and situation, they’d all panic or break a sweat pleading for an appeal to save their own skin. To hell with the fading wish for an interesting day every few weeks or so - because this potential scandal might make the whole week or even the whole year.

“Alright,” she relaxes, finally letting her body release all of the tension while she flutters her eyes back to you, “For the record, he came to me. It was-” a quick look to the side before subduing the sudden impulse coursing through her neck, “It was supposed to be a simple form of disciplinary action. A one time thing. Had him serve the correction and be on his way. Though, you’re very familiar with, well- you know, the methodology.”

“I see, and it took you that long to tell your side of the story??” Swallowing the small lump in your throat growing as her eyes fail to leave yours. “But let me guess, he-”

“He wanted to see me. Actually, he wanted to keep seeing me. I asked him as to why one day, and he was just fascinated with the approach that I do; he just wanted the pleasure for himself and as for me, I reveled in the satisfaction of taking advantage of him.”

“And you found it to be completely appropriate for this little entanglement to keep on happening?”

Dahyun then leans forward, and thank Christ you managed to save your wandering eyes from leering a second too late at the overflowing swarm of pale thighs ballooning on the cushion as more and more skin is revealed at the help of that tight light blue dress getting hiked up with the press of her legs. The inquisitive angle of her head at the given question, letting a stray wisp of her hair fall from the side before she drags it back behind the cuff of her ear. “So what are you saying?”

“Well, I’m the one who asked you first,” you answer, twiddling the pen around your fingers, maintaining eye contact with her. “Besides, I’m also not the one stuck in the middle of this debacle in the first place anyway.”

She sighs, head cocked back, almost vexed that this meeting has gone way longer than intended. You could’ve waited until after hours once all of the students had left the campus, but this was also the best possible convenient time because of the gap in her schedule during the regular day. Her lips stay shut, the soft tick of the clock mounted on the wall keeps on going. Maybe raising a white flag in the means of things might be better for today, and you’ll pick up where you left off tomorrow.

Most days don’t often go this way. Aside from the usual responsibilities throughout the typical day whether it would be out your desk or out and about peeping in different classrooms, you’re slightly ecstatic for the sudden change in pace around these halls. “I digress,” you say, leaning forward before finally carrying on, “So as your superior, Overseer, I’ll leave it off with this. Do you have anything else left to say before I draft up a report for all of the parties affected?”

Dahyun crosses her left leg over the other, clutching the glasses in her hand, her head tilts at that same right angle as earlier. The gaze she has is unchanging, staring at you right in the face while you’re quickly examining the two sheets of paper placed next to each other on the desk, sliding them away into the pile as you stand up off the chair. You’ll take this meeting as a win, at least some of the information was suitable enough to your liking for now. With all that done and over with–

“Still no answer?” You ask, fingers dancing along the button of your cuff, carefully threading it through the small slit, “Don’t make me ask this again–”

“No.”

“No?”

“I told you. No.”

“Really now?”

“I have already made my case with you, sir. There’s nothing else left for me to say for the time being.” she answers with a shrug to her shoulders.

Dahyun’s throat tenses when she sees the once needling eyes from you become quickly disinterested with her return. Incompetence was a sheer rarity with the way you operate your role, let alone a hindrance that you see in other people. Like the rest, it wouldn’t be long for everyone to get whipped into the ‘new regime’ all those years ago; some stimulating commentary at the time, but everyone understood once the policies were put into place.

Though, this meeting has gone long enough, and keeping her here wouldn’t really do anyone good at this point.

“Consider this conversation to be over, then,” you say, turning your body to the window panes set behind your desk, looking out at the moving trees in the breeze. “You’ll hear from me within the next few days so, carry on until you’re notified.”

She then stands too, hand clasping to her wrist, subjectively giving you a nod with your back turned, seeing her out of your peripheral vision. The emotionless look that’s her only mask, unimpressed and cold, as if nothing ever phases her in the tiniest of mishaps. You know that she’s just like the rest, despite wearing that facade like if life were to depend on it, part of you wants to break her- to tear up that infuriating fray of nothingness, spark some kind of fear into her core that would have her screaming, beg for a twinge of mercy.

Reading those accounts of what she did with that student, wasn’t supposed to make you interested, but it is. A worthy head-scratcher for someone like her to have a few screws loose every now and then. It just didn't add up, for her to treat this so pointlessly.

Even when she starts to bundle her feet together, swiveling them across the tile, she still carries this peculiar gracefulness in her step as her profile sweeps out of the picture - her back coming into view. She’s put up with that facade against you for so long, you know that it’ll be easy for her to comply in her case because it’s not in her nature for her to defy orders.

A turn of the head signifies a chance out of desperation; a lifeline, and you’ll give her the luxury of deciding her fate.

“And one more thing,” you setup, rolling the sleeves of your shirt to the elbow, to where Dahyun turns her body the long way round, hands behind her back, waiting for the next thing to leave your lips, “I’ll be perfectly blunt with you because I know that you clearly know better.”

Her forehead twitches at the cause of her brows bridging against each other. You see the small nick of her head that also shows the acknowledgement she’s willing to give you, both ears and eyes trained on you once the spread of your fingertips rest on the polished bark.

“You’re aware of this academy’s policies when it comes to relationships among peers, it’s basically frowned upon,” you tell her lowly, “Let alone of the fact that you’ve been having this intolerable amount of behavior out of the false guise of indignancy.” She starts to internalize this short reproachment you’re dishing out on her, watching as her eyes expand by the passing second, “Now, I’ve could’ve let this be handled by the high council, but they’ve gave the chance to me in order to see if I can get this incident resolved without having any further escalating conflicts.”

She parts her lips, wanting to take the opportunity at clearing her name, but she holds back since there’s that hanging impression of ‘what’s there left to be said once everything is put on the table?’ And even so, would anything serve to be better in the good graces of innocence for her case?

So she says nothing. Forever holding her peace while you audibly scoff at her. “I expected better from you, Overseer, I really did.”

It takes the next few seconds to re-organize your workstation, she hangs herself in limbo, gathering her thoughts as the window to save herself starts to close smaller and smaller, and she finally takes the sealed fate into her hands.

“If I may,” she says, diverting your attention from the desk back to her - hesitant to the point where you can rightfully assume that she’s eager to finally set everything straight: “I’d like to formally tender my resignation here at the Academy.”

A bold move, Overseer, but a surprise one too-

“On what grounds?” you ask, clearly taken aback with the sudden course of action by her own admission. “I don’t really see to understand while you would go to such lengths for this little incident-”

“Because I will admit to you, Superior, that I saw that student out of my own volition. I’ve made the effort to set time aside from my schedule so that he and I could have our private meetings in my office; for the sake of his pleasure and for my sake of being able to satisfy those kinds of requests for him.”

This tidbit of honesty coming out serves as a great reaction to your scolding, and not a lot of people get the credit they deserve trying to convince a person like Dahyun, but luckily you’re the one - if not the only one to have that ability in advising her. You always believed that she’d come around in some way or another, considering that this was the very first big fuck up from her too.

“Superior.” The name alone brings you back. “Please, consider my resignation. And I’ll make all of this go away.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why can’t you?” Her voice is strained, a fist at the side of her thigh, nails deep into her palm enough to draw blood, “I have to do this. I need to do this, sir. Please, let me-”

You can see the desperation start to break through the cracks of her stoic persona, inching closer to where you want her to be. She can play the cool, level-headed teacher all she wants, but you know that this whole fiasco was her doing; like anyone else, they’ll do anything to make things right, no matter the cost. Then the getting ahead starts to seep through your frontal lobe: what she’ll start asking for next, the kinds of lengths she’ll commit to if you’re not the one to throw the figurative lifeline at her.

Not just yet, guiding her into the right mindset will fall into place if you let the inner workings of panic do their thing.

“Overseer Kim.” You slowly navigate closer to her, rounding the desk with every moving step across the room. “Even if you were to leave, you can’t. I’ve taken the liberty of locking the door here because I knew that this would happen: the way that you’re acting, we can’t have this.”

It’s amazing at how she’s at ease, despite having the mini breakdown just an instant before.

Because her act is rapidly deteriorating.

“Sir, I don’t follow-”

“Dahyun.” With a hand to her shoulder, her face freezes right when she flashes a look of suspicion, tensing up at the touch before she locks eyes with you again, the unsureness diminishing with a singular eyebrow raise. “I’m giving you an opportunity to have all of this resolved without any loose repercussions.” You can feel the heart rate within her start to calm down the way her breathing stabilizes, tension along the line of her shoulders releasing with every pass of air, “There would be no need to resign, and we would find a workaround to prevent this from ever happening again.”

“And how would you suggest that, Superior?”

“By granting you amnesty. Without the word from anyone else but me.”

You can see that same sweep of her eyes moving left and right, unable to meet yours. The offer alone is taking her a significant amount of time to consider, a mistake that she’s willing to undo. She then looks up with a wistful gaze, the small spark dashing through her irises - as if she had just made the discovery of fire. Her mind starts to work and it’s so easy to tell, reflecting on this potential choice that she’s able to make. “You don’t mean-”

“Mean what?” Letting a sly grin break through your lips.

“By amnesty,” she adds, tilting her chin up, bearing your arms across your chest, “What would I have to do in order to achieve this?”

She has a general idea of the term itself, and maybe you think she’s also heard of the many things thrown around with this specific practice or policy of yours. This occurrence has happened a few times, whipping up a few notable individuals into shape - some much more needed than others, but the commonality between all of them: they’d always submit themselves to you.

“Do you admit and accept the responsibilities of your actions, Overseer?” You formally request with hands reaching to the fine creases of her dress to which she accepts.

There’s a brief pause of consideration again, and you’re watching her eyes never leave yours, thinking about the whole reason that you two are in this position in the first place. It may be a little hard to believe still; knowing what Dahyun will do not only for herself, but for the academy. Then there’s the logged report from your desk, in detail of what she did with that student, makes you realize that she’s got a screw loose in her head.

“Yes, sir.” She answers, looking up with a delighted smile, fully realizing the opportunity and taking it with no regret. “I do.”

“Good.” With a sigh of relief, a hand escalates to the back of her neck. “Because your punishment begins now.” And she’s in awe of the shimmer in your eyes, slowly grinning when you’re dipping your head down lower, minimizing the distance. It lights a fire within you, a motive of what will entail from this point going forward.

This is what amnesty is, Dahyun would think, be oh- she has no idea what she just got herself into.

You learn that she’s receptive, the way that she takes your lips with hers so well, hands flying freely, breath clashing with yours. It’s messy, the way more slick starts so spread on the lower half of both of your faces, wanting more. Her tongue weaves its way past your mouth, a leg hiked up that you greatly take the hint for, channeling the hum of approval coming from her down your throat. She grips tight on the back of your shirt, adamant on taking this chance to build a clean slate, a perfect rush of gasps followed with even more kissing. Her hands are well into your hair when you pull away, a pause to probably call a stop and-

“So it is true,” she admits against your cheek, “About this little policy?”

You lift an eyebrow unimpressed at her.

“What do- you don’t even know what you’re talking about.” you mumble, grip getting tighter on the fine part of her ass, chest heaving slightly, breaths getting uneven.

“I thought it was just some legend here, around these halls.” Dahyun answers, letting her wrists relax while swooping under her legs, instinctively wrapping them around the small of your back. “Maybe you can show me if that’s actually a real thing.”

She doesn’t see the flared nostrils you’re giving her, “I’d like to thank you, Overseer,” setting her on the desk nicely when the clack of her heels fall onto the floor, echoing the room as she removes the top piece of her dress, tossing it over to the chair she was previously sitting at, “For reminding me what I was doing.”

“And that is?” She asks, naively.

There’s a bit of a shock when you force her body to the desk, a flushed reaction covered with a gasp when you have one hand fastened to her wrist, the other lightly on her neck with the grip on the fingers getting delicately tighter. She tries to read your expression, map out the crinkles falling towards a cross or a devilish smile, feeling your breath graze along the line of her neck in these soft hitches.

“Allow me to show you,” you whisper, flipping her small body to where her back is facing the ceiling, toe tips nearly grazing the floor but just barely. The same hand to her wrist is now shifted to her back, the other set flat; searching for something to take hold, she peeks over her shoulder, watching you study the way her dress hugs along the shape of her waist and hips.

Doing this kind of practice was no surprise to you, and it doesn’t happen as often as you would’ve liked. Ryujin took three tries before she’d agree to not be a bother to you, Haewon probably took a few days or more to finally come around, and even Mina just recently. This revolving door into your office and form of chastising was the last resort of necessary actions for your fellow colleagues, some willing to challenge your authority, others were willing to submit.

“What do you think this treatment entails?” you ask vaguely, raising the lower part of her dress to reveal more and more of her ass into the light, taking note of the noticeable choice of lace as she hikes it up with her free hand. “I sure hope that this should help you learn a thing or two. Though, it’s entirely up to you.”

Dahyun’s side profile is amazingly flawless to see when you’re gently kneading her soft ass with your hand, palm moving graciously along the fine skin, fluttering her eyes shut, her breathing begins to become irregular, a small tremble to her hips as you press down lightly on the waistband, tugging on the elastic before letting go. The potential is right there at your hips - at your fingertips, to ruin, break skin, a perfect canvas for you to mutilate in any way you see fit.

You laugh and admittedly, out of spite. “I’m sorry, if this meeting didn’t occur, you were going to invite him over for another one of your private sessions?”

She seethes, but in anticipation, drawing a sharp inhale of air when your hand slides up her back. Part of you wants to put her back onto the wood, but you let it slide when she lifts herself off to meet your cheek, getting a bit selfish when she’s refusing to pull away. Her swollen lips and lidded eyes are too tempting to stop yourself- as if she’s the one pulling you into her spell.

“Had I not been found out, I would’ve,” she murmurs, clutching onto a bit more of her hiked up dress, revealing her bare ass to the open air, unveiling a strike point.

A fast hand tends to hers, placing it with her other hand still pressed behind her back. She writhes at the uncomfortable position but the tension passes through her body once you adjust.

“You know what I would say to that, Overseer?”

“What-”

Nothing is said, but all is shown with a harsh slap to her ass. A statement.

Strike one.

Dahyun quietly yelps at the sudden hit to her backside, everything from the waist down clenching from the contact. The rough palm on your hand stings to the point where you’d have to flick your wrist a bit to subdue the burn. Her breathing starts to become irregular, wiggling her legs hanging from the side of the desk.

“Superior, ah-”

“I should’ve also mentioned that I’m permitting you to use expletives, but you’re already ahead of the curve as it is,” you tell her, massaging the crimson mark now apparent across the breadth of her ass, feeling the bits of heat emulating across the rough creases of your palm. “You’re now free to speak your mind.”

“God, f-fuck. I can’t bel-”

Another rough hit cracks an echo in the room. Earning a high-pitched whine from her. Strike two.

“Choose your words more carefully.” Fighting the urge to smile at the sight this woman splayed across the table, letting out these heaves of desperation, body tightening and untightening on the surface as she’s hiding her face from you. “I don’t plan on easing up after what you did.”

“Sir, please. I just need to-”

You press her deeper into the table, hike up more of that insanely tight dress to her waist, letting her struggle under your grasp. The sounds leaving her pretty little lips would drive anyone else drastically crazy, watching as this uncrowned beauty crack under the weight of your touches with a third slap. Strike three.

What sets Dahyun apart from the rest that has gone under your specified practices of treatment is the appeal she possesses. At least everyone from the faculty to the students have shared their thoughts about her: few envying and others fantasizing. You’re somewhere between the two, impossible to really tell for yourself, but what’s rest assured:

There's more than a boatload of things to discover with Dahyun that’s already a list growing by the second. Dragging your fingertips along her thighs, pressing and pinching in spots where you’re trying to assess how nimble she can get, the way you can twist and mangle her limbs into a plethora of ways that’s drawing up with the imagination running through your head. How she shudders when you’re pulling on the elastic of her panties down her luscious legs, drinking in the sight of her glistening pussy lips hanging off the rim of your desk, clearly having an enjoyable time with the slick soaking her undergarments as well.

“Have we had enough? Or are you willing to take more?” you ask, letting Dahyun keep her own hands behind her back with yours fastened over the curve of her hips, sliding down to her red cheeks, handprints visible as you're soothing the damage. “I definitely think that you can handle more, shall we continue?”

She shivers, the slightest grasp to her ass gives another hitched breath, caressing it briefly as you’re plotting the next move in your head.

“You can answer me, Dahyun,” you tell her, leaning down over her back, nose tangling within the threads of her hair, brushing the cuff of her ear before planting a kiss right below it, “But from these sounds I’m hearing tells me that you’re enjoying it.”

A small twist from her singular eyebrow, lids still sewn shut, “You’re ecstatic, that I m-misbehaved.”

“Can you tell?” Another slap to her ass and a tug to the soft skin.

“Y-yes sir, I-”

And another.

“I’m not convinced yet.”

Then another strike.

“F-fuck sir-”

One more hit to bring the tally up to seven.

“Makes me wonder what you were going to do with that poor student if this carried on without my interference.” And at this point her ass has morphed into this ruby shade with every strike that follows. Her shoulders roll back, you’re keeping her in place, wrists still stacked on top of each other, hands opening and closing in response to the pain the more slaps you dish out.

Dahyun struggles to keep her breathing stable, one firm grab to her asscheek as you’re planting a few scattered kisses down the column of her throat, teetering along the bridge of her collarbone. “Tell me, would this be on your mind with him also?”

She doesn’t open her voice to tell, but a simple nod is all she gives. “My, my, Overseer. You really are something.”

You could be satisfied with the way things transpired in this very room, content with the message sent and the warning laced between the lines. A momentary pause, hushing her whimpers, tending to the red tint of her ass, easing the ache of pain mixed with pleasure. Her eyes are scrunched along with the bridge of her nose, gnawing on her bottom lip as your fingertips continue to dance along the sensitive skin.

“Are you ready for the next part?” you murmur into her ear as your hand trails down to the space between her legs, dragging a pointer finger across the warmth of her leaking slit, listening to the sharp breath passing through her lips again.

“Mmmm…” Her legs buck against the drawers, dipping the two pads into her walls. The corner of her lip wobbles as she throbs around your fingers, dragging and sliding in a form of trial and error; seeing what she likes and what doesn’t, the light in her eyes filling with lust. “Sir, please, yes, God-”

She sees another idea spark in your irises, drawing away from the warmth of her pussy temporarily, hands fast to undo the belt around your waist. Dahyun could only watch as you’ve got the leather wrapped around, creating a loose hoop at the end before lightly placing it across the two divots in her back resting above her ass.

You test the pliancy of the looped belt on your other hand, ensuring that the article rebounds nicely across your palm. “I’ve got one more thing to do, consider this to be a test of some sorts.”

“What do you mean, Superio–”

Her voice screeches when you strike the leather in the same spot where your hand hit on her ass cheek; entire body tensing from the sharp pain before breaking down into broken down sobs. She tries to resist by getting up, but you keep her in place as she whines, adamant in believing that she can’t handle it any more.

“Oh no, we’re not through yet,” you hiss, not paying any attention to the stray heel hitting your thigh in retaliation. “Not until you tell me that this won’t happen again going forward.”

“Just for the record, sir,” Her hand grips the underside of your forearm at the same time your weight begins to stack along her back, furrowing her brows and gritting her teeth. “I wanted this.”

“So are we going to have a problem like this again next time?”

“Absolu-”

The leather belt finds her ass again, the crack in the atmosphere strong enough to mistake for the clap of lightning.

“No,” she pleads, twisting her head back and forth, sounding off another thwap to make a point. “No sir, we’re not going to have another problem with this ever again.”

“Good,” you say, the formality alone shortly returning, hands hovering over to her wrists, slackening the belt as you begin to wrap it around her. You’re keeping focus, maintaining your thoughts meticulously, fighting your cock that’s beginning to ache in your trousers. “I’m gonna take good care of you now.”

Once you’ve got the leather fastened around her wrists, there’s another fill to be satisfied when you slip your fingers back into her cunt, throbbing at the way you curl them inside, earning a few harmonious sounds as her back arches to the touch. She’s melting by the second, “Yes, yes, please sir, I want-”

“Speak up,” you breathe, sinking down to your knees, hands resting at the rise of her hips, glistening lips into view. Everything about her is a new learning curve, and the way her lower half is still hung over the edge, ankles neatly crossed together like her bound wrists, you almost feel bad for enacting this onto her.

Keyword almost, and you put your mouth on her other set of lips. Unsure, testing, getting those first savoring seconds up her wet cunt. Her whole body pulls inward, choking down a cry, and you realize, this woman is filled with surprises.

But you didn’t want to get too ahead of yourself, the shivers she dishes out, the string of hums continue to leave her mouth. This wasn’t the time to keep the niceties - shoving your whole face and tongue into her pussy, tongue slipping through her opening in these strokes, body contracting and relaxing. The fingers also come into play, tapping along her clit and eventually dipping in to where your tongue can’t reach, the wetness soaking your fingers, the short grasps letting you know of that beautiful high fast approaching.

“I’m gonna-” she says, voice peaking in a higher pitch than the last, the balls of her feet hitting your chest, holding her down at the bottom of her thigh and ass. “Sir, I’m gonna fucking-”

“That fast?” you ask, gaze glassy, drunk on the sweet slick that’s all over your lips. Biting down the laugh from the top of your throat, “And here I thought you’d hold out a bit longer for me there.”

She pulls her body up with what little strength she has while being tied up. Panting. Heaving. You’re content with the structured appearance of her face completely ruined, tense, letting her eyelids flutter when she feels your finger slip inside her once more, because another feeling like this wouldn’t really hurt anyone.

“Final question. Are you going to be good for me from here on out?”

There’s a silver lining with the sense of humiliation you’re giving her, nearly sympathetic when your knuckle finds its way deeper. It’s wrong, you think, to be like this, but you’ve learned with the years of experience of being in this place that people will only listen when backed to a corner with no other way out. Everyone here is aware of the rapport you have with others, the kind of power that shouldn’t be really shown until it’s a desperate call to make to ensure everyone’s on the same page as you. This time isn’t really different.

But still, it’s a first with her, and you’ll take this grand opportunity to pressure her into not making another issue for the next time.

“Dahyun,” you’re telling her again, because she’s just staring at you in awe. The way you’ve been handling her; professional at the surface level, finding a pressure point to the things that she’s been accused of committing, drawing that out of her by any means necessary, until you’ve managed to break her. “Answer me, darling.”

She comes back to her senses when her body shifts more inward to the wood, resting right at the bending point of her hips, listening to the zip from your pants. The most evil thing she’s done all day: a sly smile breaking across her face, watching you tease the head of your cock along her wet lips. This will be a problem, but a welcome one. You’re hoping that you’ve done your part to the best of your ability.

“Yes sir,” she answers, shimmying her hips to tease. “I’ll be really good for you. I promise.”

“I hope so.” you retort, “I can be very convincing.”

A slip inside, a slow push. It’s electric. Further. Deeper. Filling her cunt up, her walls leisurely stretch around you. The heat alone is euphoric, coming to you in a fast rush. You hold yourself in for as long as possible, but it’s futile; she may have a few screws loose in the head, but you’re not far off the mark as well.

“God,” she mumurus again, and you drag yourself out slightly. Back in nicely, smoothly into that heat, until Dahyun nods her head in approval. She gasps again when you move past the previous spot your cock was inside her, nearly to the base.

“Oh, my fucking-”

A shared gluttal moan parts from your chest and hers, eyes fixated on the sight of your slicked up cock carefully impaling Dahyun, the friction becoming more and more addicting. The muscles in her back start to freeze up along with her clenched hands, fighting against the leather around them. You make it easier for her case, lifting her chest up at the breast, leaning down to seize her lips on yours, holding her steady, cock carving up her walls with every building thrust.

Nose against her cheek, “This cunt,” you utter, pushing yourself deep as this girl is faltering moans with every hit your hips make with her sore, red ass, “I can’t believe how tight this grips me, god- fucking, no wonder he wanted to keep seeing you in the first place,” and you lean down the line of her back, letting her pussy clench around your cock, feeling the clutch of her walls, all wet and aching for more.

The thrusting starts to pick up, unrestrained and unrelenting now. You’re not even sure what to do with your hands, alternating between holding at the endpoint of her waist where her hips meet or press her unbelievable thighs together, to make the press around your cock that much better. A premature call to make, in comparison to the other’s that have preceded Dahyun: her pussy takes it in so well, you could bury yourself inside her for what feels like forever.

“Sir,” she groans out, the sentence being cut off with another slap to her ass, following up with the crash of your hips into hers, holding on to her binded wrists. “Please, please, please-”

“Please what, hmm?” You can’t really conjure up the proper thoughts to put in conversation, heaving out scattered spells of air with every stroke into her. “You’ve gotta help me out here.”

“Need more.” It’s a request for sure, and not a vague one. “Please keep fucking me.”

You do give her more, and nothing less. With every passing second you dive deep into her cunt, the beating in your heart accelerates just that teeny bit faster. The thoughts are out the window at this point, the only thing keeping you from figuratively passing out is the sopping wetness of her cunt every time you pull out and drive back in. The pace gets a bit faster, then you dial it back, watch as her upper body convulses across the desk, mouth hung open for all the moans to be let out, getting louder, more higher, and needier.

She gasps when you hold yourself inside, thrown off guard with the firm hit you give her, a moment to catch her breath. “Wait, no, fuck, why did you-”

Dahyun had managed to do something to you that the others couldn’t in this short span of time: break you. Even after all this time, it’s really interesting how the very person you’ve been wanting to see out for an instance like this is the one that’s managed to make you go all out into setting them right. She’s spearheading this thing, and not you. When it should be the other way around.

A fistful of her hair is grabbed, and her body is raised up, hips flush with hers. “If I hear another question leave your sultry lips, I’ll tape it up so that nobody can hear you screaming down the hallways.”

She bites her wobbling bottom lip, assuring you that’s exactly what she wants to happen, and it will. Her half-open eyes sees your head go sideways, planting a kiss down her neck, inching your cock deeper into her cunt past the hilt and her body shudders at it.

“Want me to fuck some sense into you now? Properly? Fuck this pretty little pussy that it’ll make you think right?”

She nods desperately, “Yes sir. Please.”

You bend her over across the desk again, hand still tangled into her hair with the other resting at her hips. The pace deliberate at first, savoring the sensation of how her body takes you, parting her folds with every inch of your shaft. She shivers when you tease her still, not going all the way, but making her earn it.

Now wasn’t the time for easygoing now, the sight of her backside is an eighth wonder of the world to admire, sliding out and dragging your cock back into her, gradually increasing as the additional slaps to her ass again, fucking her deep. You eventually decided that she’s served her punishment long enough, untying the belt at her hands and discarding it somewhere in the office, putting her hands up to the other end of the desk for her to hold on as you mercilessly bury your cock into her.

“Sir, I can’t keep- fuck!” she cries out, the litany of lovely whines and sounds the more you fill her up. She also takes the liberty of letting you take a breather, moving her hips back, bouncing her ass with you just standing there, watching as her perfect ass does this little ripple effect on the skin, jiggling with an endless movement.

It was getting all too much, and Dahyun herself was enjoying it as well, smiling with every groan that rips from your throat, hand floating over her hips, piercing your cock roughly back into her again and again, unwilling to yield the remaining bits of pleasure before either you or her reach that point-

“I’m gonna fucking- god, sir, keep going, so close-” she strains, gripping your wrists and tight enough for her to rip them off.

“Don’t fight me,” you spit, voice leaning towards something primal, “Cum all over this cock.” And she does.

Your muscles should be spent at this rate, but they hold out long enough as your ears are picking up the endless babbles and whimpers, mixed in with the sloppy strokes of your hips hitting hers. The mind is overloaded with so much, but your hands find rest at her ass again, burying yourself deep. And then it hits you in a flash.

One firm hit sheathing your cock into her cunt, and you pull out, cumming all over the fine plane of her ass. You’ll need to take a mental image to save for eternity - the way you’re painting in these lovely slashes with your release, all over her ass, her back - because you learn that she looks amazingly good like that. A fine figure, waiting to be defiled and tarnished, and it happens.

“God, would you look at-” you’re also left in disbelief, the grip around your cock loosening, eyes on leaking pussy lips, she’s hung down, face off to the side, eyes closed, steadily breathing. The words coming out of her mouth are inconceivable, but she’s thankful, praising you, giving thanks. Judging from how content she looks, proves that your hard work is done.

“S-sir,” she tries to say, still left speechless.

A kiss to the temple of her head, and a ruffle with your hand sliding down to her back. “So, are we satisfied with your conversation?”

Dahyun takes a minute or two, maybe more, to process everything that’s happened just now. She’s still on your desk, and you’re getting right back to it, slipping on your slacks, picking up the tossed belt that you used as a makeshift rope. Your ears pick up on the heavy breathing from her as she slowly gets up, hands giving her support on the desk, dazed and astounded once things start returning back to normal.

You fix up the rolled up sleeves of your shirt; Dahyun blankly stares out in space, fixing up her dress and placing some of the various items hit in the crossfire back in their right spot, off the floor and somewhere where you’ll fix soon.

“Dahyun?” you ask again, watching as she starts to make her way out the door. “Overseer.”

She turns at the title, realizing she left behind a vital piece to her appearance, dipping her head down in embarrassment, but you can already see the blush breaking through her cheeks. Her breathing is also irregular, but it’s a lot calmer than before.

“Sorry,” she says, squaring her shoulders, a hand taking the heels in yours. “Thank you, for- uhm, the persuasion.”

An inquisitive look is what you give her. Meeting your gaze, you notice a few stray strands out of place in her hair, take it upon yourself to use the tip of your pinky to move it away from her forehead. Not much is left said between the two of you, probably just small talk or the comfort of silence finally setting in like before. You can’t really seem to get over the wistful constellations behind the lenses in her eyes - and it’s something that you want to study more about.

“Right,” you tell her, patting her shoulder before guiding her to the doorway, fingers fast to the touchpad and the quick clicks of the deadbolt finally opens it. “I’m happy enough to see you again, without the intent of correcting your little issue.”

Dahyun nods in agreement, pulling both of her lips inward to force back the smile, but you see right through her. She begins to make her way out, bare feet on the floor, heels in her hand - a solid lasting impression after today.

“Before I forget Dahyun,” you’re calling out again, and she twists her head around to meet your eyes, “Let’s speak again sometime soon okay? My door will be open for you if needed.”

She squints, smiling a bit to where you see the bottom bits of her teeth. You give her a nod to emphasize your point. “Count on it sir. I guess I’ll be coming around more often, then.”

#twice smut #dahyun smut #kpop smut #male reader #twice dahyun smut #kim dahyun #twice dahyun #kpop x male reader

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3verythingiknowaboutlove · 1 month ago

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sophrosyne

how liaison intern!reader and spencer grapple with a recent case that's taken an individual toll on them

angst! eeek! word count: 1277 warnings & tags & stuff: lowkey sad, reader cries a little, mentions of schizophrenia (in an unsub), and correlations to spencer/diana are hinted at, it’s mentioned that that unsub gets shot, like the beginnings of a crush showing but otherwise no fluff, just gentle spence as always, social commentary & my personal thoughts on our justice system definitely peek through. very first attempt at some bigger sad scary feelings authors note: hi!!! im alive!!! and guess what!! its my birthday!! i'm 20 which is totally insane. anyway i missed you all and i HAVE been writing, just not posting. it just got like too much when it registered that THAT many people are reading my stuff, yk? i do appreciate all the love SO MUCH but its still a little scary. anyway. i hope you enjoy, i think this is an interesting one? not sure. i fear my intentions for it may have gotten lost in the writing so please let me know if it doesn't make any sense. okay have a superb day ily!!!

Spencer is spinning and he won’t stop and it’s hypnotic.

There’s a little squeak coming from the chair with each turn that sends goosebumps down your legs, filling the otherwise silent bullpen with noise.

You imagine it must be a little sickening, or at least uncomfortable, spinning in a chair for such a long amount of time. You're honestly a little concerned. His legs are crossed like a child’s.

The look on his face—one that you can't quite make out right now due to his motions—has been the same for the better part of the afternoon. That was concerning. It’s so contemplative and stoic. Like an old Greek statue, Odysseus? you think, carved from marble, weathered to the point of near crumbling.

But this case, this case, the one you got back from exactly four hours and twenty two minutes ago, wasn’t anything too bad, was it?

You blink at that thought, taken aback with yourself, the empathy hitting you like a wave. Of course it was bad. They’re all bad. People are dead. All those families are broken in ways that won’t ever heal.

Your second month as an intern under Agent Jareau, working to become a liaison just like her, proved to be almost everything that one grouchy ex-FBI-Agent-turned-guidance-counselor at your university said it would be.

Harsh. Sad. Cold. It will strip you of your sensitivity. Your gentleness.

But this case. It had a sharper edge to it than the rest, slicing the littlest bit deeper into your skin. A lingering heaviness weighed on your chest. Were you the only one who felt it? Clearly not, if this guy spinning in his chair was any indication.

Most of the bullpen had cleared out, leaving only the mess of the team’s half-finished mugs behind in the sink. You had stayed though, needing to shake this weight off before you brought it home with you. The last file of the day is spread out on your desk, but you’re far from it, standing across the room by the coffee machine. Hiding.

You pour two cups, unable to stop the methodical replay of the case in your mind. Not just the brutal MO, but the bigger picture. The circumstances. The diagnosis. The history.

Agent Jareau had made it your responsibility to take care of all the family-related files.

Male, aged 30, diagnosed with acute schizophrenia at age 22. Stabbed 6 women in the throat.

Family history of disorder? (Check one) : Y ☐ N ☐

The unsub, his father, his aunt, and his grandfather. They all had the same last name, bump on their nose, gap between their teeth, and identical diagnoses of schizophrenia. A twisted family tree. The branches, the unsub’s fate.

You turn toward the spinning blur of the chair, unsure if Spencer even knows you're there.

…

Ceramic scrapes against wood. Still warm, it leaves a condensation trail in its path. “I added a bunch of sugar,” you offer quietly, unsure if he’ll even acknowledge it.

Spencer slows. He doesn't reach for the mug like you’d hoped, but he stops spinning. Small victories.

He stares down at the file in front of him, and for a second you wonder if your interruption made things worse. That little groove between his eyebrows- today, there more often than not- shows up, a problem trying to become untangled in his mind.

You really should go. Leave him alone, Spencer clearly has his own things to sort out. But your legs are tethered to the ground. Maybe it's due to the fact that he just got a new haircut, and it’s nice. Really nice. Or maybe it’s because you, too, feel like getting lost in your own head right now.

You swallow. “You okay?” you ask, before you can help yourself, and you regret it instantly. It sounds too personal, too sudden, too much, like teeth clashing during a kiss. You're intruding on something that Spencer isn’t prepared to share, something unfinished.

His eyes finally land on you for a split second, and he gives you a nod, shallow and unconvincing. You know better than to push for the truth.

You lean on the edge of his desk, keeping your distance but not leaving. You stare into the swirls of your coffee, fingers drumming on the side of your mug. This moment is fragile, you know, and yet you’re unable to stop yourself from talking. A chronic weakness, on your part. “I don’t think this case was…” you pause, searching for the right words. “It wasn’t like the others, was it?”

Spencer looks at you again, for a beat longer than you expect. The tension in his face softens, just a little. You see it too.

“No,” he says finally, voice low. “It wasn’t.”

There's something in the way he looks at you that makes your heart pound. There’s a sense of openness to it. He’s not exactly confiding in you, not yet. But he’s also not completely shutting you out, either.

Strange. The total opposite of what you’d expect. You keep talking.

"Everything he did was just a clear demonstration of his schizophrenia, which is genetic and so prevalent in his family. I just keep feeling like… like it wasn’t his fault. Like it was predetermined. And he died for it,” you ramble quietly. “Morgan shot him.” Your voice breaks.

He stills, not saying anything for a beat.

“He wasn’t given much of a fighting chance, was he?” Spencer asks quietly, almost to himself. Like the question was a familiar one. His eyes drift over the file, the unsub’s family members listed front and center. There's something sad in his gaze. Resigned. Like he’s thought about this before.

You shake your head.

“I think,” Spencer starts softly, staring at a point on the floor, voice barely above a whisper. “You're the only one here who sees it. The way we villainize them.” The words sting in a way you didn’t expect.

Silence rings between you two. It’s thick, and nothing but sad. The weight of the case, of the pain, of the impossibility of it all hangs in the air like a dark cloud.

You dip your head, a sudden tear slipping down your cheek and falling into the fabric of your brand new dress pants. Your hands hold the edge of the table behind you and you inhale shakily.

“I don’t know if I’m cut out for this job,” you whisper after a long while, the words delicate.

Silence hangs between you two again. Then, his voice, thoughtful and deliberate and caring, breaks it up.

“I don’t think it’s about being cut out for it. It’s not about being tough. It’s about being able to hold that much emotion without letting it break you, because you recognize the alternative of not doing the job would be worse. And it’s hard. It’s so… hard. But you’re doing that. You're doing really well.”

You blink, surprised by the calmness in Spencer’s words. The logic is almost comforting in and of itself, in a way.

“Not everyone can hold that much empathy,” Spencer continues, his voice low. “We need more of that, the team does.”

Your throat tightens.

“I'm sorry,” you say, your voice small. “I didn't mean to put this all on you.” Spencer shakes his head, not minding.

“You should go home and get some sleep. Maybe it’ll be a little better in the morning. It usually is.”

You nod, but you don’t move right away. You feel like the moment you leave, you’ll slip from this edge you’ve been teetering on.

“You go,” you eventually say, quiet. “I’m gonna wash all those mugs people left in the sink.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds x reader #fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader #piper’s works

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rosesbxrry · 2 years ago

Text

Links for Jake 🔞

Warnings: this contains nsfw links and explicit commentary imagines on my end. Afab! Reader. Minors do not interact. Of course, this is all fictional and none of the materials represents them.

a/n: I feel like I went overkill while writing this one. I blame this comeback for awakening kinks I never knew I had ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 Also this album is such a masterpiece 😫😫 I can’t stop listening to all the tracks on repeat without crying or screaming at the top of my lungs.

Main Masterlist

Jake loves it when you ride him but loves it even more when he sucks and play with your nipples at the same time

Jake’s hands and lips will never be not on your boobs, no matter what position you are in. You’ll be on top and riding him real good, and he’ll watch with perverted eyes at how your tits will bounce as you move up and down his length.

“That’s it, baby girl.” He’ll purr, hands around your hips to keep you in place. “Fucking your tight and wet pussy with my cock, yeah?”

Leaning back with your palms on his thighs, you arch your back when his tip hits your sweet spot. You were breathing heavily, thighs burning at the constant movement.

Jake’s throat throbbed with agony, reaching out to take a hard nipple into his mouth sloppily. His lips were like a pillow— sucking on the tit before his tongue moved circularly on the skin around it. His thumb moved to stroke the other neglected nipple, letting his fingernails dig into the hard flesh.

“Fuckk,” You moan, holding onto his shoulders for leverage. He was suckling on your nipple, nose deep into the ample of your breast. Thumb and index finger rolling and pinching the other erect nub like a toy. “Faster! Jaeyun, God— let me come!”

He mumbles something on your breast, the vibration sending sweet pleasure straight to your core, coating his length with your juices as he did with your walls.

He rides you off your orgasm, biting and sucking onyour boobs, decorating it with dark marks. Your nipples were sore to the touch, but Jake didn’t stop even when you told him to— because he’ll leave it nice and bruised for you and him to see the next morning.

You told Jake that you like his hands so he shows you how good he can make you feel with them

You shivered when he slowly caressed your side, his fingers leaving feather-like touches that brought you goosebumps. Your back leans deeper into his chest, whimpering desperately when he starts to kiss and lick your nape sensually.

“Look at you,” He tutted, using his index finger to circle around the outline of your breast, avoiding your hard nipples. It throbs painfully the more he teases, making you grip his thighs for dear life.

Jake let out a hearty chuckle. “I haven’t touch you yet and your already acting like a slut.”

“Jake, please.” You pleaded, “Want your fingers to make me feel good.”

He gave you a satisfied hum before grabbing your left boob harshly from behind. His hand moves to trail down between your legs, and you buck your hips when his fingers glide through your folds.

“God, you feel amazing.” He groans against your ear, stroking your pussy up and down until your wetness coats his slender fingers. “You’re so wet, angel.”

He plunges two fingers into your hole, stretching your walls deliciously in a scissoring motion. You were already crying at the pleasure, but when he added his thumb to play with your swollen clit, flickering it back and forth, the world crumbled briefly before you came on his fingers.

“So good for me, look at how much you came.”

He pumps his fingers a few times into your hole before showing his fingers with a proud smile. Your juices glisten in the night light, watching him suck it clean hungrily have made you realize you’ll never look at his hands the same ever again.

When your pussy is daddy’s favourite dessert

Jake takes you by suprise when he push you to sit on the bed, pulling on his tie roughly after tossing his jacket on the floor.

“Spread your legs for Daddy, I want to taste you.”

It was an invitation you could never refuse when he asked so nicely. You open your legs wide for him, watching him dive straight into your cunt with no hesitation as if he didn’t have a full-course meal during your dinner date a while ago.

You felt lightheaded, grabbing a fistful of his soft hair when his tongue probed at your hole. You moaned, gasped, and breathlessly called out his name while his plump mouth kissed your clit gently before lapping it erotically. The lewd sound fills your shared bedroom, making you thrust against his face.

“Feels so fucking good,” You moaned loudly when he licked through your folds slowly and carefully, holding your thighs down when you trash around.

“Please don’t stop, Daddy.”

The knot in your stomach was getting hotter and tighter as he mouths your aching pussy. Jake looked up when you called out to him— messy hair, dark eyes staring right at your eyes while his swollen lips never ceased to eat you up— the sight was such a turn-on between your legs that you came immediately.

Jake ravishes every juice leaking from your wet pussy, lapping and swallowing you dry until you cry from overstimulation. He savoured every taste and scent you offered because, after every delicious meal, you were his sweetest dessert.

Jake showing you how needy he is when you’re not here to please him

You almost choked on your cup of coffee, putting your phone down in case any of your co-workers happened to pass by your cubicle. You silence the volume and move deeper into the corner before clicking on the video Jake had sent you.

He was on his knees atop your shared bed, wearing only a shirt covering nothing on his lower half. You nervously took out your earpiece, finally able to hear his desperate moans of your name slipping out of his pretty mouth.

He pulled his shirt over his head before jerking off his already hard cock. It was red and slick with precum, making such a lewd wet sound. You could hear his breathing hitch, a hand moving up to play with his erect nipples.

You were squeezing your thighs together, hearing his whiny moans and watching him fist his cock so hard that his knuckles turned pale. He stopped for a second, looking directly at the camera as if he was gazing at you.

His cheeks were flushed, and his mouth was open agape, showing you how he thumbs the head of his cock as strings of precum stretch thinly at the motion.

You feel the disappointment in your chest when the video ends abruptly, cold sweat dripping down on your forehead, the warmth that pooled in your underwear made you realize that you need to go home as soon as possible, frantically texting Jake back.

I want you still hard when I get home— don’t you dare come without mommy’s order.

He tells you that your boobs are the best sex toy

Watching porn with Jake was oddly casual. It was an impromptu suggestion that made sense when both of you were bored out of your minds in the middle of the night, and watching it together lets you explore some things that could spice up the bedroom.

You were wearing a crop top, and the material you saw on the internet fitted you like a glove, pushing up your boobs until the cleavage almost spilled up the space. It was ridiculous, but it did the task you needed to give Jake the best boobjob he ever wanted after seeing it being done in a porno.

“Fuck— wait a sec.” He groans, gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail, watching his cock push between your boobs. The sight and feel of it all were so intense that he was panting rapidly.

“I think I’m gonna cum.”

“Jake,” you started, “I haven’t even move yet.”

“I know, I know, but—“ He let out a strained groan when you teasingly started to move up and down. Your cleavage jiggled and coated with his precum until it glistened. “Your boobs look so sexy right now, I don’t think I can last long.”

You giggled while watching his face scrunch up in bliss and agony when you started picking up your pace. The area between your chest was so slick that his cock glided through easily, the wet sound making the tension more erotic.

You ride out his release, making sure that the red tip gets completely swallowed up by the pressure of your boobs. He shot up ropes of cum, some dribbling down your abdomen when you release his cock.

His eyes were stuck on the creamy liquid as it dripped down, seeing your hard nipples against the cheap fabric of the shirt, and you knew he was down bad to do it again.

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go-go-devil · 5 months ago

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I still really love the reveal that The Pink Opaque was always a show meant for much younger kids as opposed to the teen action show we're first presented with, but mostly due to how well the film tricks us into seeing it the way Owen & Maddie saw it.

Really it's so painfully obvious right from the get go that this is a kids show: Maddie defensively stating that its "too scary for kids" despite being on a young adult channel, the first episode we see having a plot revolving around wishing the ice cream man delivered ice cream all year long, the show's villains having very cutesy names, Isabelle & Tara's pink ghost tattoos being very cartoony, etc.

Yet we the audience see the Ice Cream Man as a grotesque monster with far more disturbing practical effects than the very low-budget real version. We see all the characters appearing older than they actually are. We see dark, dramatic themes of being trapped in a false identity slowly poisoned from the inside in the final episode only because by that point we've become JUST as personally invested in the show as our main characters do.

Upon getting to the reveal that what we saw wasn't actually a Buffy the Vampire Slayer kind of show but actually more along the level of Goosebumps, we end up questioning our memories of the show just as Owen did seeing it again after all those years because it seems so unreal! How can we possibly deny all the intense, compelling drama we just witnessed?!

One might call this a commentary on how nostalgia can blind us to a show's actual quality as we grow older, but personally I see it more as how one's attachment to a show can end up LITERALLY changing it into something else entirely.

Now I never watched Buffy and can't relate to all the references the film gives to it, but as someone who frequently watched My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic as a teen despite not at all being the target audience I can heavily relate to what Owen and Maddie saw in The Pink Opaque.

It didn't matter that the show wasn't actually as intense and well-written as they thought, what mattered was that the show gave them EXACTLY what they needed at that time in their life. Owen saw herself in Isabelle, just as Maddie found her true self through her love for Tara. It allowed the pair to bond and form a real fulfilling friendship during hard times. Their warped memories of the show aren't stupid, they stem from what happens when a piece of art has such a profound effect on us to the point where it ends up shaping our very lives!

The Pink Opaque was never a groundbreaking show with any ounce of queer themes in its narrative, but it helped Owen realize she was trans, and in the end that's all that really matters. 💖👻

#I saw the tv glow #I saw the tv glow spoilers #film analysis #just had to get this off my chest #sorry about that ;-)

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carmyberzattosjournal · 1 month ago

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Entry 29: Crossed Wires

Screenshot Credit: @boardchairman-blog

Bearblr Promptober Day 29: Corruption (sorta? I tried)

Summary: Carmy's girlfriend (who he calls Darling) introduces him to impact play (flogger), and it wrecks his wiring. Mild smut.

Warnings: Swearing, mentioned fight with Syd, Richie and Nat, casual suicidal thought (1), impact play (flogger), fem reader/lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns. (1006 words)

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list. Sideblog for commentary and yapping: @m-z-shoroi

Also, if random letters or words are black/white instead of the colors they should be, that's Tumblr being dumb, I've been fighting it for weeks.

29 Oct 2024

Darling crossed a lot of my wires, but her magnum opus had to be soldering the ones for pain and pleasure together.

The anticipation of getting hit sat as this half-molten brick of brimstone in the pit of my stomach. It churned with the heat of magma, bubbling up as licks of flames that, in the fleeting but eternal minutes I waited kneeling next to the bed with my forehead resting on my folded arms, I could almost feel at the roof of my mouth. I’d spit flames, I was sure of it, if the eon stretched any longer, and they’d fucking annihilate whatever small fragments of me remained coincidentally affixed together after the thrashing I received that day. If I wasn’t non-linear, if I wasn’t being scraped off the fucking pavement and put into a jar when Richie, Syd, Sugar, and I all exploded at each other, it was because of negligence. Because one or some of their barbs was aimed lazily enough to miss the fucking target—not because I had any connective tissue holding me together. I don’t often want to die, but at The Bear partly through prep that day, an otherwise nondescript Monday? I prayed Richie would grab a knife from the block and tear it across my throat.

“What’s your safeword, sweetheart?” Darling whispered from behind me.

The sound of leather groaning as she, in all likelihood, twisted the flogger around her hand, pierced the silence further.

“Mercy.” It barely made it past my throat.

Cool strands of leather brushed across my bare back, between my shoulder blades, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Goosebumps exploded along my arms.

“Shhhhh…” She wove her fingers into and gripped a fistful of my hair. “Relax. Remember, we don’t have to do th—”

“Please, just fucking hit me already,” I whimpered.

“I will once you relax, pretty boy.”

“Fuck you.” It left my mouth before I could stop it. My face erupted in heat. I drew in a breath to apologize, but she cut me off.

“I know. I get it. It’s okay.”

My mouth wouldn’t move. Wouldn’t produce the apology. A whooshing sound, then a crack, then a sting between my shoulder blades. Exactly like a jump rope to the ankle. Exactly like she’s said it would’ve felt.

“Fuck!” I hissed. I gripped fistfuls of the sheets and recoiled against the pain.

It surprised me more than it hurt, at first. Not the pain, but the little surge of heat in my navel, dangerously close to arousal. Then, the sting faded into warmth and tightness, like something was tugging at my skin. And then the pain came back. Duller. Deeper. Irritating, almost. I wanted her to rake her nails over it.

Oh, I was fucked.

“D-do it again,” I said. “Please.”

Fucked straight to hell.

“That wasn’t too hard, was it, sweet—”

“N-no. No. P-please do it again.”

The second one had that initial spark of pain, but then the sensation went away. Melted into the same dull, distant tightness that was already present. But holy fuck, it felt heavenly. My dick stirred, halfway to half-hard, and all I could think of was—

“Again? Please?”

She didn’t hesitate this time, and I couldn’t stop a groan from tearing from my chest.

“Oh.” She curled her hand around my throat and lifted my head to greet me with a wicked grin. “Oh, does that feel good, pretty boy?”

She wasn’t squeezing, but it was just enough pressure for blood to pool in my head, and I got that fuzzy, floaty feeling. My dick strained in my sweatpants, and all I could do was press up against the side of the bed, try to chase down some friction. My eyes fluttered closed without my consent. Please, squeeze harder. Please, please, fucking crush me in your hands, call me pretty boy again, leave bruises, leave shadows like a fucking dog collar that I can take with me tomorrow. Maybe I’ll act less like a wild fucking animal. Maybe it’ll feel like you’re there and I won’t fucking lose it.

“I asked you a question, pretty boy.” Gentle.

I pried my eyes open. Whispered, “Y-yes.”

Something about seeing her like that, effortlessly in control, a Goddess hovering over me, powerful, commanding, the handler of a rabid animal—listen, I will take Darling however she comes to me. I love her so much, I’ll give her my ribs. I love her so much, it feels like it’s killing me, but I will lie in that grave if it means I can listen to her voice, be enveloped by the scent of her skin, taste her strawberry lip balm, but something about her being in control destroys me. I’m helplessly caught in the riptide of her existence, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. I will give you anything, my love. I am yours. My whole being is at the foot of your throne. I trust you to nurture and protect me more than I do my own blood.

Do with me what you please, my love.

It wasn’t for five heartbeats, wasn’t until I saw her eyes darken, that I realized I whispered it aloud.

The next one stung less than the first two. The one after unlocked some feral part of me that I didn’t know existed, and I bit the side of my hand to keep myself from screaming. Not out of pain, it was something else. Something reflexive, primal, felt like it was damn near under my diaphragm. I was too hot. I didn’t have any layers to remove, and the radiator was still out, so it should’ve been cold in the room, but I was burning up. The sinking, molten arousal in the pit of my stomach undulated and coiled with every strike until one of them, a random one—nothing special about it—set off stars in my vision and ripped a pathetic cry from my throat.

End note: this piece is truncated. The writing fatigue has thoroughly set in. I might write the rest of the scene at a later date.

That was the moment. That’s when the wires crossed.

Part II

#cb journal #bearblrpromptober #carmen berzatto #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #the bear #carmen berzatto smut #carmy smut

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l8tof1 · 5 months ago

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the “SIIIRRRRR LEEEEWISSSSS HAAAAMILTONNN” in italian commentary… goosebumps

#so good.#lewis hamilton #british gp 2024

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yeeehwa · 1 year ago

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Shock and Awe {1}

Mafia!ot8ateez x fem!reader

wc: 2,523

warnings: blood, violence, mc is a badass who does injure ateez, swearing, guns, splinters, gunshots, if i forgot anything please let me know

a/n: This is a post from the result from the poll i posted last week, and i honestly had a lot of fun writing this. this is severely unedited and will be edited either once it's done or the poll decides that i do it. I prefer everyone to go in blind, so there will only be a warning and no summary before every chapter.

✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼ ✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　

Forks of lightning split the sky, illuminating a shadowy figure for a moment. San jumped, seeing the silhouette out of the corner of his eye as he silently stalked the hallway. A clash of thunder and another flash of the brilliant light illuminated the same space. He stood there for a moment, gun in hand and pointed at the shadows. His pulse quickened as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. After a moment, he shook his head, convincing himself that it was just the dim lighting of the sconces on the wall and the storm playing tricks on him. It doesn’t help that tonight was a big night for all of them.

“Clear,”his voice echoed down the hallway after his moment of hesitation.

You smirked from the shadows, relieved that he didn’t register he had actually seen you. Perched on one of the wooden beams on the ceiling, you observed as more men slunk into your home through the windowed double doors, silently pushing them open. The water pooled on the floor as they shook off their clothes, jackets being shed and left out on the balcony that the doors led out to.

“Let’s get in and out, okay? I hate being here.” Goosebumps erupted over Wooyoung's arms as a gust of wind burst through the room as the doors were silently shut. “That’s not ominous or anything,” silently joking to the others.

The tall man next to him smacked the back of his head, causing Wooyoung to wince a bit and rubbed his head. “Unnecessary.”

“Your commentary is unnecessary. We should’ve left you back with Hongjoong and Yeosang.” Mingi retorted dryly.

Yunhos voice came over their communication link. “I had the urge to shoot you just now.” His eyes looked through the scope of his sniper as he perched from a building across the street. “I almost did.”

Something had tickled the back of your mind at the mention of the names. It was like an itch you couldn’t scratch, familiar yet not. You shook your head free of the distraction. It’s something you couldn’t dwell on with intruders in your home.

The group of men, five of them you counted, fanned out, slowly making their way to the intricately carved wooden doors at the end of the hallway. You noted that they knew exactly where they needed to go, and watched as they entered the room, stupidly leaving the doors wide open behind them.

A slight static noise sounded in your ear. “Eyes on the targets?”

Thunder rumbled, making the house shake and giving you the opportunity to respond. “Five of them. Came in through the East wing balcony. Heading towards the Boss’ office.”

“We have eyes Y/N. We know they do too. Stay in the shadows. They’re watching” a pause. When he spoke again, you could hear the smile that he had on his face. “For now.” The static noise was gone after that, contact between the two of you cut for the time being.

Soundlessly, you rose from your concealed position and moved deftly across the wooden beams, mirroring the movements of the men below. Your steps were calculated and precise as you trailed them, keeping pace until they disappeared into the doorway to the other room. As they left your sight, you reached up, extracting the vent cover that opened into the network of air ducts.

“What the fuck are you doing?” HaJoons voice crackled once more, tinged with static.

“What does it look like?” Came your retort, an edge of annoyance mixed in with your response.

A sigh from him triggered a smug look from you. “It looks like you’re about to cause a lot more trouble than you need to.”

You hoisted yourself into the ducts, waiting for another roll of thunder to place the vent back in its proper place. “I’m just following orders.” you began your short military crawl through the ducts. You had the layout of them memorized for years, always using them to your advantage, which is how your family found out you had a natural talent for spying.

Another sigh. “Your orders were to watch and report.”

“I am watching, and I am reporting. I’m not making contact unless told.” You reached your destination, grunting quietly as you maneuvered yourself into a crouching position and expertly removed the vent. “I wait for your signal.” You pressed a button on the side of your comm link and cut contact, until he decided to reestablish it.

“You’re a pain in my ass Y/N, I hope you know that.” His exasperated voice came back.

You rolled your eyes, opting to stay silent and observe, watching as the tense atmosphere of the room under you rose up to your perch. “Boss said if they find the door, you go in and I cut their camera access. Got it?”

Slightly huffing, you nodded slightly, knowing he’d see it, and you heard the background static of HaJoon disappearing, signaling he was gone.

Your head tilted, eyes narrowed and calculated as you watched them examine the room. Large, expansive bookcases lined the walls. Books you knew were all for a show of wealth and knowledge. You had been the only one to really touch and enjoy the books in years. The only sound came from the thunder of the storm that raged outside and the slight shuffling of feet on the floor and them moving things around.

You subconsciously tensed up as you saw one of them get closer to the bookcase that held all your family's secrets. Behind it sat a safe, where endless information about the goings ons in the family, all your safehouses, informants information, etc. were all locked in that safe. You knew countless other organizations were looking for it, trying to take you down and topple your control of the city. These men were no different. Only this time, they succeeded in opening the bookcase. A clicking noise after moving a certain book had you moving into position, and flashing a smile at the cameras, knowing whoever was watching you would see, and pulled your neck gaiter up over your nose. You stood, half of your foot hanging over the edge of the beam, and you let yourself fall.

Yeosangs eyes narrowed at one of the monitors that held his access to the security cameras. “Capt-”

“I know.” Hongjoong walked up behind the younger man, hands resting against his control panel. He examined the monitors that had gone black. “Can you play it back?”

A nod followed, and a series of rapid keyboard clicks resulted in the restoration of the image. The screen displayed their team members. Seonghwa, his demeanor almost nonchalant, kept a watchful eye on the group, his attention caught when Jongho uncovered a false-shelf, showcasing a safe behind it. A series of exchanged glances ensued, but in a small, shadowy area near the ceiling, he saw movement. It was slight, but his heartbeat sped up as his gut told him something was wrong.

He gestured to Yeosang, who promptly put a small earpiece in his outstretched hand. He swiftly inserted it in his ear, ready to give a warning. “Someone is in there with you.”

Yunhos voice came over their link. “Are you sure? I haven’t seen anyone Joong. Even from here.”

“I’m sure. Yeosang and I saw something move on the cameras. You’re being watched.” His eyes stayed on the monitor that he saw the movement in, and he saw it move again, a pair of eyes staring right into the camera, crinkled, almost as if giving it a smile. “Fuck” and then, as if scripted, the screens went dark.

“Get out of there.” Hongjoongs command echoed through all 6 of the links. “Eyes went dark.”

“What about the-” the youngest tried to ask.

“I don’t care about that shit right now! Get out! Retreat! Whatever word I need to say to get it through your thick skull!" Hongjoong's order cut through the tense air, driven by a mixture of worry and exasperation.

All eyes locked on Seonghwa, who nodded once, determination on his face. “Okay. We go. Be ready for anything.” He locked eyes with each of them, and reached for his pistol. The others followed suit, eyes shifting around the room, senses on high alert.

Clashes of lightning briefly illuminated the room. Yunho was having trouble keeping his scope on the others, carefully keeping watch, when the lightning illuminated your figure quickly dropping from the ceiling. His finger was quick on the trigger, and a muffled crack echoed in the air.

Seonghwa jumped, feeling the wind of the bullet whizzing past him. “What the hell Yunho!?”

“Hongjoong was right. Someone is in there with you.” He stopped as he watched you land on Mingis shoulders, wrapping your legs around the tall man and using your weight to propel you both forward. You flipped the large man over, dazing him momentarily, gun clattering somewhere into the shadows.

You used the same momentum to roll yourself into a standing position, which ended up with you face to face with a man with very cat-like features, holding a gun aimed at your stomach.

Your eyes scanned him up and down as everyone froze, the atmosphere tense, and they tried to figure out what to do. Your eyes locked with the man in front of you. The next words that came out of your lips were muffled, but they heard them all loud and clear. “Hey Sannie.” Looking into his eyes for that second, had made that connection click in your mind.

His eyes widened, showcasing confusion at your greeting. You decided to act fast, bringing your knee up in between his legs and wrestled the gun from his grasp in one fluid motion. You turned your back to him as he fell, groaning in pain and holding himself.

The only parts of your face that was left uncovered lit up when a series of thunder and lightning lit up the otherwise dark room. A wicked smile painted your face as you saw the eyes of the others widen.

“Way to make an entrance,” Wooyoungs snide remark made him your next target. You feigned left, and swiftly diverted right, foot making contact with his arm as he swiftly blocked it. His hands wrapped around your ankle, smirking at you as you felt arms wrap around you from behind. They had you locked in an iron grasp, but you smiled, realizing that the person behind you slightly lifted you off the ground, making the foot you had stood on, free to kick.

You kicked Wooyoung in the stomach, eliciting a loud "oomph" as he released your leg and bent over in pain. The arms around you remained locked, but you swiftly dropped to the ground, shifting your weight. This movement loosened the iron grip around you. Thrusting your upper body forward, you flung the other man over your shoulder, and he crashed into one of the expansive bookcases lining the wall. You couldn't help but grimace, silently apologizing to your future self for ruining one of your favorite sections of books.

The hair on your arms stood on end, and a gut feeling urged you to move. You obeyed, and not a second later, a whizzing sound indicated that a bullet had just been fired where you had stood moments ago. You tsked at your assailants and quickly assessed the last remaining man, recognizing him as Jongho. A small knot formed in your stomach as you heard the distinct sound of a gun being cocked, its barrel now aimed at you.

"You're going to step aside and let us through," Jongho said with a cold, unyielding expression that tugged at your heart momentarily.

Ignoring the feeling, you rolled your eyes and decided to taunt him. "What's wrong, Baby Bear? Can't face me like a man?"

Internally, Jongho winced at the nickname, a moniker he hadn't heard in years. After they had parted ways, he had made it clear to the others that anyone who called him that would regret it. They had wisely complied. His current objective was to keep you focused solely on him. Your back was turned to the other men you had subdued, but they were slowly getting back on their feet. San was making his way toward the safe behind you.

You smirked at Jongho and lunged at him. Shots were fired, and a stinging sensation coursed through your right bicep, but you pushed through the pain. You had a job to do. Attempting a right hook, you caught him off guard, allowing you to wrap your legs around his neck as you propelled yourself upward. You brought both your hands down onto the top of his head, trying to stun him. He staggered slightly and then slammed your back into the wall, causing books and splintered wood to rain down on you. Gasping for breath, you were momentarily winded by his maneuver, which gave him the opportunity to strike again, this time successfully stunning you.

Behind you, you heard movement and the unmistakable sound of a lock being clicked. Turning your head to look over your shoulder, you saw Wooyoung and San rushing out of the safe, carrying bags slung over their shoulders. They also supported Seonghwa and Mingi, helping them make a swift exit while Jongho remained to deal with you.

Jongho reached up, landing punches on your side and back, causing excruciating pain to shoot down your spine. A slight buzz of electricity had you bracing yourself. The shock never came, but the sensation of being slammed onto a massive desk made the edges of your vision go hazy, and you were certain you blacked out for a moment.

You lay on the shattered desk, feeling tiny pinpricks of pain running down your spine, convinced you'd have dozens of splinters in your back. At some point, your mask and hood had fallen, revealing your face to the men.

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, meeting a pair of large brown eyes. Jongho held his side, supported by San, waiting for the others to rush out the door and onto the balcony from which they had entered. Recognition briefly flickered across his face before he turned his back on you, leaving you behind as he limped out the door, favoring one leg.

As the members returned to their waiting van, the atmosphere remained tense. Adrenaline coursed through their veins as they grappled with the aftermath of the fight. San broke the silence, asking, "How did they know my name?" The question hung in the air, intensifying the uncertainty.

Seonghwa spoke up, his voice carrying the weight of realization as he stared down at his hands. "It was Y/N."

The van's engine roared to life, the sound of tires squealing on the wet concrete serving as background noise. Each of them was lost in thought, pondering the mention of your name. The rain picked up again, and Seonghwa watched the raindrops slide down the window, wondering how Hongjoong would react to the news that they had finally found you.

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gallant-basilisk · 1 year ago

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Hello may I request Poly Todobakudeku with a reader who has a deer personality like they are Shy, sensitive, interested in nature, gentle, innocent and unique. They can sense danger and fear of getting hurt so due to being scared of getting harm they will actually obey their commands. Thank you !

*Insert objectively funny/ relatable commentary about the request*

Reader has a sort-of future-seeing quirk, where they can foresee danger, though there's only so much you can do with knowledge alone...

TW for a little creepiness (nothing major)

"Y/N!" Your name rang out from an angry mouth somewhere from the depths of the darkness, a boyish chuckle following it up as careful, calculated steps approached. Closer and closer...

You'd find Bakugou to be quite intimidating on any day, really, but today... What you feel isn't fear or a bit of nervousness – it's terror. The way his voice reverberates in your ears, the lingering anger and frustration painfully clear as you swallow down a nervous squeak, crawling on the floor pathetically. Your eyes flick to the mass of dark shadows of desks and tables between you, the only barrier blocking the blond from noticing your shaking form making an escape.

Thump.

You could feel the steps he took, each time his foot landed on the ground with a soft thump, ever closer to you – in the back of your mind, a voice screeches at you and you listen without a second thought. You spring on your feet and gracefully run over to the nearest door, which you enter and slam shut – the small plaque falling down from its front from the force, Midoriya Izuku.

You fumble to lock the door, but the moment the lock clicks you feel a certain weight lifted off your chest, releasing a relieved breath... Only to then hear that voice, your instinct once more scream at you. An image flashes before your eyes, a certain voice speaking to you... The warmth of a body pressed against yours...

And then you hear the soft thump of a step – you know, without having to turn around, who it is. This moment played out in your mind like a film only a second before – Midoriya calls out to you, your name rolling off his tongue with a lingering sweetness and adoration as his form stops behind you, his hot breath hitting the back of your neck in a disturbingly intimate fashion. He takes another step forward, his firm chest flush against your back, taking in, inhaling your floral scent as his cheek rests on your shoulder, his nose brushing against your neck as he reaches one hand to wrap around your waist, the other to the lock. He unlocks it softly, but the click rings in the back of your head like an alarm, barely registering his murmured words laced with madness. "Is it your natural smell, little lamb? The scent of flowers and fresh air... I never thought I could love a smell so much. God, even your sweat is so–– ugh~ I wish I could smell you forever..." He chuckles, his breath on your skin giving you goosebumps.

Not even a moment passes before the handle turns down and softly opens, a certain blond coming into your view. A smirk rests on his face, his eyes narrowing down at you with a mixture of excitement and disappointment... He wanted to chase you, to hunt you down, so the fact that you got caught so easily made him feel a tad disappointed in you. But the way you looked at him, with that doe-like twinkle in your bright and soft eyes, made his own gaze soften, a cocky scoff leaving him. Even if your gaze was only filled with fear, that didn't bother him.

"I guess you were right, Deku... To think it'd be so easy to lure you into our trap..." He says calmly, with an underlying excitement, waiting for any sudden escape attempt from you, the palms of his hands crackling and glowing in the otherwise dark room. "Didn't even need Icy-hot in the end!" He adds with a chuckle, his tone as mocking as usual, but... Far more terrifying than you usually perceived.

Midoriya simply hums as he takes one more deep breath, then detaches himself from you, his scarred hands ghosting over your waist as he pulls them back.

You're free... In the technical sense at least. But even without anyone here to physically hold you down you still don't dare move, sandwiched between the two... Your feet feel stuck, like they planted themselves into the floor – as shaky as they are –, your entire body frozen in place as the voice in the back of your mind keeps meekly whispering – escape, run away. Though strangely enough that little voice that always screams in the face of danger and killing intent is now whispering inside your head, confused by the lack of it. It seems even your otherwise reliable quirk cannot comprehend being hunted, yet not facing lethal danger, though that doesn't offer you any confidence for a chance to escape unscathed. The subtle crackle popping from Bakugou's palm make your muscles stiffen, nervous about the prospect of receiving a hit from him...

You peer over your shoulder, listening intently as Midoriya pulls out his phone and taps on the screen for an agonizing minute before returning his attention to you. "Aww, what's wrong?" A soft laugh escaped his lips, smiling creepily as his gaze met your nervous one. His eyes scanned you from head to toe, nodding to Bakugou to communicate something. You remain silent, swallowing down the forming lump in your throat, clasping your hands together and pressing them against your chest as a way to show you weren't planning to do anything that might warrant them to become physical. Bakugou rolls his eyes at this, while Midoriya just smiles at you, the same innocent smile he always flashed at everyone... Stomach churning.

You didn't dare move your feet, not even shifting your stance. You wanted to look harmless, so that they wouldn't harm you.

That was your fear – pain. One might call you cowardly for such a pathetic fear, but you're not dumb, you know nobody wants to be hurt, especially if it is something that can be avoided. Especially not you... Besides, you went through enough before in your life – if these men had no intentions to hurt you, physically at least, then you'd be a fool to try to escape and risk changing their mind. Not that you'd have much of a chance anyway, three versus one, and one of those three is someone who has analyzed the hell out of you and your quirk and can always use it against you – yeah, you have no chance for escaping them. That doesn't make this fact any easier to accept, no matter how much sense it all makes, it's still a shitty thing, but you figure it's better to keep these sorts of thoughts to yourself.

You release a shaky breath, looking between Bakugou and Midoriya anxiously, confused as the two seem to be waiting for something. The tense silence is eventually interrupted by Bakugou's booming voice, talking louder than needed. "Where's the other idiot?" Midoriya lets out a soft breath as he walks forward and intertwines your hands, dragging you out of the room with a frightening grip, gesturing to Bakugou to follow you two. "I've already texted him Kacchan." He turns to glance at Bakugou briefly, grinning from ear-to-ear, the action making your stomach fill with butterflies, and not the good kind. "He's waiting in a limo outside – we can give only the best for our Forest Fawn after all!" He squeezes your hand to emphasize something... Maybe their newly acquired ownership over you.

You don't struggle as he continues dragging you, eventually slowing down as he realizes you're struggling to keep up with him. "Y/N, you should've told me I was going too fast! What would I've done if you were to fall?" "You'd wish they'd break their legs, so they won't run and you can cater to them 24/7... I know you more than anyone, nerd." Bakugou suddenly grabs your other hand, his grip firm and his palm a bit sweaty, which makes you more nervous than disgusted, afraid one wrong word would make him blow your hand off from your wrist. "Though we don't need to wait for an accident to make sure our little lamb doesn't run away..." He says in a cold tone, his expression darkening as he stares at you. You gulp, averting your gaze to the ground as you let the two drag you outside, eventually ushering you into a rather luxurious limousine.

Passerbys don't bat much of an eye to you – silently climbing into the vehicle –, they're more concerned to catch a glimpse of any of the three heroes around you. You briefly glance around to see a large crowd, most likely unaware of your situation but your chin is soon harshly grabbed by Bakugou, the blond glaring at you sharply as he leans down, whispering into your ear so nobody else can hear him, "Eyes forward, little Fawn... Unless you want me to melt those pretty little eyes..." He blows a breath into your ear, one of his hands gripping your shoulder as he pushes you down on a seat. You don't object, the cold sense of being abandoned making you lower your head, the sound of excited squeals and praises from the unaware crowd only barely registering. Your hands are placed on your lap, scratching at themselves as Bakugou, then Midoriya enters the limo, sitting on either side of you.

An uncomfortable atmosphere enveloping the relatively comfortable space inside as you finally gather the courage to raise your head, already aware of the warm hand reaching out and cradling your face. "Thank you for not struggling." Todoroki says calmly, a slight smile on his lips as his thumb caresses your lips, gently pushing your lower lip down and you only barely manage to stop yourself from slapping his hand away... Though you sort of wish you had the courage to, the way he's touching your face, inspecting you like some sort of prize-winning animal or object makes you feel incredibly humiliated. Not to mention the way Bakugou and Midoriya watch you silently, scanning your shaking form, the flicker of anger in your eyes and the soft noise of distress you let out... So disgusting.

Your eyes flick up and meet Todoroki's, the calm, unbothered look in his gaze making the hair on the back of your neck stand in alarm, your nails digging into the fabric of your pants, barely scraping your thighs. You immediately avert your gaze, swallowing down the lump in your throat as Todoroki stops his intrusion, his hand returning to his side as he sits down in front of you. The engine revs and the limousine pulls out softly, the feeling almost eerily serene...

Strangely enough, the moment the thought – I'm stuck now - crosses your mind it feels as though your lungs feel lighter and the ringing in your ears weakens as though your body was telling you everything'll be fine...

There's some sort of surreal comfort in it...

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #yandere #todobakudeku #yandere deku #yandere bakugou #yandere todoroki #yandere todobakudeku #reader insert #requests open #request #reader #x reader #gender neutral reader

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