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yoongsisbae · 1 year

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King of Corruption | MYG

Sequel to Christmas Mass. Yoongi x reader Demon AU. Dark smut.

The organ player takes his time with you, holding you and caressing your body while you sleep, until you can’t discern your dreams from your reality. A king and a sleeping beauty, his name leaves your lips like a prayer, prostated at his feet in blind reverence…the perfect position for him to corrupt and defile you.

I promised readers a Yoongi version if Christmas Mass hit 1,000 notes, and you did it! Round of applause for you! This story is all your fault :D. Please please please heed the warnings, this is dreadfully filthy u.u.

Trigger warnings: 18+ dark themes, horror, demons, religion, smut, boss x employee, wanna experience the trauma of having an office job? this fic is for you!, power imbalance, Yoongi is literally the worst boss ever lol, yoongi is unhinged (remember that you wanted this sequel :’)) sloth is one of the hardest sins to really articulate - I wanted it to be a bit more than just sleepy/lazy, sleeping beauty syndrome, rough sex, corruption kink, pain kink, sadism, degradation, name calling, possession, reader manipulation, mental torture/mind break, dubcon, dark ending

Word Count: 8.9k

---

It’s quiet.

Apart from the clicking, dozens of busy hands typing away, needing to meet quarterly deadlines by the end of the month, less than a week away.

What day is it? Tuesday? Thursday?

So quiet.

Apart from papers shuffling back and forth and dress shoes thudding on thin office carpet; employees chasing down their supervisors, the gurgling of the water cooler dispensing another cold metallic tasting cup of water.

Click click click.

It’s almost closing time. Yet, you know you’ll be here at least two more hours along with everyone else. Your fingers are cramping, your legs shake up and down as you sit idle. You’re hungry and tired and so sick of these long office hours.

Tap tap tap.

Your office cell buzzes, a message popping up: ‘Come to my office.’

You press your lips together, annoyed.

Tap tap-

Your fingers hover over your keyboard as you finish looking over your current spreadsheet, double checking that the totals match the expense reports on your desk.

Click click click.

Tap tap tap.

Buzz. ‘Now.’

You sigh quietly, standing up.

Walking past rows of cubicles, you trek towards your manager’s private office, knocking softly before entering.

“Sir?”

He calls you closer with a lazy gesture, crossing his arms. He stares at you in silence for far too long, making you fidget uncomfortably on the spot. Lowering your head down you look at the objects on his desk, unable to meet his eyes.

A Newton’s cradle, at a standstill.

An ornate letter opener, shaped like a small needle dagger.

Countless papers, so scattered the desk wood is hardly seen.

“Y/n.”

“Yes, Sir?” You look up obediently.

Yoongi leans back in his office chair, eyes looking through you.

“I need these finished before you leave today.” He gestures down at the stack of reports at the corner of his desk.

Your eyes go wide, there’s at least three more hours of work piled up high. “B-But Sir-”

“Our quarterly deadline is in less than-”

“-a week,” you finish for him, dejected. “These have to be done today?” you ask, “Can’t I, um, come in early in the morning instead-”

Yoongi clears his throat and shakes his head, cracking his pointer finger with his thumb, turning the silver ring around the digit out of habit. “I needed those reports done yesterday.”

“Oh…”

You want to scream.

“...okay.”

“Okay.” He repeats impatiently. “Work on these first, I can’t finish what I have to do until I get those reports back.”

You exhale, reluctantly nodding and reaching for the extra work.

Yoongi slams his pen down, making you jump. “As soon as possible, y/n, okay? Got it?”

You nod quickly, turning on your heel, desperate to hide away from his stern gaze. Yoongi’s presence is intimidating, his curtness makes you feel like a child, dumb and incompetent. ‘Just get it done,’ you think, then you can go home, far away from this hell.

Yoongi watches your retreating figure, sighing, “How tiring…” he mumbles, a sly grin hiding behind his knuckles.

---

Your eyes sting, the blue electronic screen glow under half-dimmed office lights could seem sinister if you weren’t so focused, tiredly saving updated files to the company’s servers. Somehow you are always the last one left at your desk, a “model employee,” by administrative standards of course.

You rub your eyes. Eat, you need to eat, before you pass out.

‘Saving: 78%’ You look around, forgetting there was nobody left around for you to disturb. You look through your purse for some change to buy a snack bar from the company’s vending machine, anything to eat just so you can make it home in one piece.

Under closing lights the bright shine inside the vending machine makes the cheap snacks inside look incredibly appetizing, or perhaps it was because you skipped lunch today...

You rest your head on the glass of the vending machine, watching the agonizingly slow twirl of springs as your snack bar...gets stuck.

No. Not now!

Closing your eyes, you debate on whether to start screaming or crying.

‘Come on!’

Of course only you could be this unlucky. You try to quietly hit your fist on the glass, harder again when nothing moves.

‘FUCK THIS FUCKING SHIT,’ you think, cursing your life.

You shift your weight between legs, thinking, itching to kick the damn thing. No, you shouldn’t make a scene. Biting your tongue, you lean your body against the side of the vending machine, using your shoulder to nudge the large appliance.

‘FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU-’

Someone clears their throat.

You look up and stare into a pair of intense eyes, dark irises silently judging you.

It’s one of the rare times you’ve seen your boss without his coat jacket on, Yoongi’s unkept appearance surprising you. His tie is pulled down, top two buttons unfastened, the gel in the front strands of his hair has lost its hold, causing his bangs to frame his sharp cheekbones. His cheeks are flushed, a sign he has been doing more than just sitting at his desk all day, it makes you wonder what or who...

Yoongi swipes his credit card and hits the same two numbers you had chosen.

He bends down slowly, pulling two bars from the machine. Your lip trembles as you build up enough courage to speak. ‘That’s my bar.’

Just ask for it.

Just say it.

Say something!

“That’s mine,” you summon the courage to speak up.

Yoongi laughs softly. “Yours?” he hums.

He stares at you, and you realize he has no intention of giving you what you want.

You immediately look down out of habit. You would have let it go, scurried away before Yoongi really got annoyed at you, but you only brought enough change for one bar. “Y-Yes.”

“No.”

“It is! I paid for it, it got stuck, the stupid machine-” you trail off, realizing you were speaking your thoughts aloud.

“Nothing here is yours, y/n,” he tuts. His tone catches you off guard, and when you look up his expression is even more surprising. Yoongi is leaning against the machine, smiling at you.

A smile is usually friendly, welcoming.

Not like this.

His crescent eyes don’t twinkle, they gleam with a malice that makes your body stiffen.

He chuckles, staring at your gaping mouth. “This belongs to me. This whole company is mine,” he smiles. “And do you know what else is mine?”

“Huh?” you can only ask dumbly, frozen by his sudden icy demeanor.

You yelp when he grabs the back of your neck so swiftly you trip over yourself trying to pull free.

Yoongi forces you back against the cold vending machine glass.

He whispers his next words so softly in your ear, you wouldn't have believed he was capable of such tenderness in the midst of such aggression. “You belong to me.”

He runs his thumb harshly over your bottom lip smearing your lipstick down your chin, gripping your face in his hands so tightly it stings. You gasp out his name in surprise, jolting when he presses his knee between your legs. “You’re mine,” he whispers.

Your boss holds out one of the small snack bars in your direction. “Y/n?”

You shake out of your stupor, looking at Yoongi as he stares back at you blankly. “Y-Yes Sir?” you ask, realizing he was offering you the extra bar.

He stood three paces away from you, not close at all, but your body felt jittery thinking of his skin against yours, how it would feel if he pushed you against the vending machine and had his way with you.

Your thoughts horrify you. It had felt so real, you were still lingering in your own delusions. Your boss...he’s your boss. Why would you think such horrible things about your boss?!

You grab the bar away from him so quickly he stares down at his open palm.

You keep your head bowed, silencing away those horribly intrusive thoughts burning through your body like a forgotten muscle memory. Yoongi steps closer to you, eyes peering down at the bar held tightly to your chest. “I-I-”

“Y/n, go home.”

---

You put on the television.

It only takes a few minutes before your attention is on your phone instead, checking the latest trends. You scroll quickly, unfocused, so you didn’t have to think of the horribly embarrassing moments you had today.

If your thoughts become too loud, like tonight, you drown them out with music, adding another layer of noise inside your quiet home.

This has become routine.

You spend the night scrolling through images of popular celebrities, cute half naked men and women with soft features and sweet smiles so you wouldn’t think about him...

Your boss.

Min Yoongi.

Yoongi’s intimidating appearance, so unlike the warm and friendly celebrities displayed on your screens. Yoongi’s sharp angry eyes, you wonder what makes him happy. Yoongi’s deep drawling voice, that voice, what would it sound like in your ear? Oh, the way Yoongi runs his tongue over his lips when he concentrates...

You own tongue licks across your teeth thinking about it.

Your boss had a notorious reputation, there’s always been office gossip between chatty women who giggle amongst themselves when he walks by. Stories to explain why his assistants never stay for too long, and rumors of a terrible terrible temper. You’ve never seen it for yourself, but god help you, you can’t help but imagine...

Something must be under that listless facade he always exhibits for him to be so successful...

A fierceness...

You shake your head, sighing. Something is wrong with you, you think, ashamed at yourself. Stop y/n. You’re not brave enough to play with fire like that. You’re his subordinate and you’re fairly certain he finds you annoying, like a pest, and you’re definitely certain he is out of your league.

No, Mr. Min seems like the type who doesn’t bother with relationships anyways, the type to scoff at romantic gestures, probably prefers high class escorts and busy women who would leave him alone to his own devices. Your boss is not a nice man.

But there’s just something about him...that hooks you, in the lungs, in the chest, in the pit of your stomach. You’ve been wholly ensnared by him.

You pull your legs up, burying your face in your knees, hiding away. A silly gesture, you were all alone in your home after all.

You turn up the volume on your television and laughter fills your house. Rehearsed, giddy, raucous laughter. A show you’ve probably already watched before. You can barely crack a smile in response.

You eat a cold meal of leftovers, too lazy to cook for yourself, too hungry to even wait the time it takes until it heats up.

You move from the couch to the bed, and fall asleep quickly, exhausted.

---

You gasp for air, waking up.

Where had you been? Were you drowning? You catch your breath. No. Then why are you wet? Is that sweat?

It’s too dark to see. You try to move, but something heavy holds you down.

“What’s going on?” you murmur.

Something is wrong. Very wrong.

“Go back to sleep,” a deep drawl mumbles.

You know that voice.

Who is it? His name is on the tip of your tongue.

Your limbs feel so heavy, so tired. It can’t be morning yet, it’s too dark for that.

You still have time to sleep more, go back to dreaming, enjoying that pleasant feeling again, so good you can still feel it creeping over your limbs...

...up your body...

...inside you...

It’s a nice feeling, it was a nice dream. It’s where you want to be, where you want to stay. Just until morning, just until you have to go back to reality, back to work, where everything hurts and is exhausting and unpleasant, a deadline on top of a deadline, a bunch of dead ends, finish lines with no rewards.

You rather stay in bed and sleep.

That dream, what was it about? You try to remember, get it back, so you can go back, anywhere but here.

You groan, chest heavy. Just a little bit more time is all you need. Let the sun stay away for a little longer. Let the shadows hide you away. Please.

That dream, you’re almost there, it’s coming back to you like a sweet lovely serenade, sung by lips pressed against your skin.

A rhythm begins inside you that makes your body sink deeper, two fingers pulling out the song inside you, making you ache to hear more.

A deep sigh against your thigh followed by a chuckle makes you whine in tune. You think it almost feels too good to be just in your imagination, right before you fall deeper.

---

“Am I boring you?”

A sharp kick to the back of your chair by your coworker jolts you. “S-Sir? N-No, no– No, Sir.”

Shit, now everyone in the meeting room has their eyes on you. Your boss continues to chastise you. You shrink inward, gripping the ends of your skirt hard enough to wrinkle.

Yoongi asks your thoughts on the presentation so far, already knowing you don’t have an answer. You stutter out the notes you’ve written down, riffling through the papers in front of you and he corrects you, flustering you even more.

You mumble out an apology. You hate being the center of attention, you wish to disappear. Taking your pen and piercing it into the soft part of your throat would be less painful than the embarrassment you’re feeling and when you hear giggles on your left part of you contemplates on actually doing it and ending it all!

God, will this reflect poorly on your performance review?!

You try not to shake as you scribble down what he’s saying, ignoring his eyes fixated right on you. ‘Why me?’ you write in the corner of your notebook, holding off tears of frustration.

Why does Mr. Min always seem to be picking on you?

“Everyone is dismissed,” Yoongi says after the meeting concludes. He calls out to you before you can leave, asking you to see him in his office.

You wince. Of course, you never get a break from working.

You sit on the couch by his desk, waiting. He’s making you wait on him. When you should be eating lunch with everyone else. You swallow down your growing resentment instead.

It’s bitter.

Your leg shakes in boredom, your foot tapping on Yoongi’s office carpet. Time just ticks on by, slower and slower until you can’t take it.

You feel hungry and annoyed and worst of all, you feel deep restlessness, uneasiness working up your limbs and into the pit of your stomach until you wish to scream, run, anything.

How much can you tolerate before you explode? Act out? That’s what Yoongi seems to want to find out.

Your boss walks in, shutting the door to his office behind him.

Instead of sitting at his desk, he sits next to you on his couch, limbs sprawled out as he rests.

“Why did you need– Was there something you needed to discuss with me, Sir?” you ask, trying not to sound impatient.

“Y/n…” The way he drags out your name, deepening his voice, has you holding your breath, waiting for his next words. He runs his hands through his hair, fixing the strands away from his eyes.

“How long have you worked for me?” Yoongi asks, testing you.

“I…” you pause. How long has it been? It must be years now, right? This is your first job, you can’t remember having any other. “A very long time,” you laugh awkwardly, hoping he doesn’t ask you anymore about it. “Why? Is something wrong?”

Yoongi glances at you, fingers tapping on his knee as he stretches his legs. He adjusts his hips, moving closer towards you. “No, well, I think it’s time for a promotion, don’t you?”

“Oh?” You say, surprised. You would have bet Mr. Min would have fired you before ever promoting you.

“From now on you’ll be working directly under me. This department is growing, and I need an assistance manager. You’re a hard worker, your performance accuracy are always high, and I think you’ll be a perfect fit.”

You stay quiet, only nodding in acknowledgement. The idea of seeing more of him was burdensome. But you can’t help but fixate on his compliments, Yoongi called you ‘perfect.’

“How does that sound?”

“Sounds...great.”

He crosses his arms, “Yeah?”

“Yes...”

He glances in your direction frowning, “Really? Because you look like I just told you someone died-”

“No, sir!” you recoil, “I’m sorry Sir, I’m just surprised! I thought you were mad at me,” you say softly, looking down at your knees pressed tightly together.

He reaches out to you, turning your chin to face him. “Y/n, tell me, do you like your job?”

You can’t exactly be honest and tell your boss how much you…

…hate it here.

“Yes, I’m very grateful for the opportunity-”

Yoongi frowns again, his touch becoming rougher. “You can tell me the truth, y/n.”

“Oh...I-l really like my job.”

He laughs.

And then, he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back over the couch cushion. It’s quick and unexpected and...just like that time before...

What’s going on?!

“Do you?” he asks, a smug smile on his face. “You like your job?” he laughs.

“Y-Yes!” you defend yourself, pulling desperately at his arm. If you told him the truth, he would fire you. Then what would you do? How will you pay your bills? If you fought back against him, who would believe you? This goddamn job was all you had.

“Oh,” He nods back, voice pitched higher and seeming to mock your own voice. “You like this?” he laughs, dragging your body down, hovering over you.

This is Yoongi? His demeanor shifted so quickly you can barely recognize him as the same man. Your boss was reserved, almost apathetic to things. The man looking down at you seemed unhinged, animated, barely contained.

You didn’t know what this man was capable of. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “What do y-you want me to say?” you whimper, words barely audible.

“Still that quiet little lamb?” He holds you down so tightly your scalp burns and his other hand snakes around your throat threateningly, bending over you until your foreheads touch. “Spineless, dumb girl, this is the best you could want? Is this what you gave up everything for?” he asks, shaking your body.

You don’t understand what he’s saying or why he’s doing this, but something inside you feels ashamed at his words, like you’ve done something horribly wrong and you don’t even realize it, like a child being yelled at for going to a place they shouldn’t without an adult. You shouldn’t be here...

You want to leave!

You cry out, fighting against him. You try to scream, sound muffled by the pressure of his fingers around your neck.

Yoongi sits his full weight on top of you, his designer suit pulling at the itchy fabric of your cheap bargain clothes.

“You so desperately want to feel something, it’s all you can think about, all you can dream about. If you want to feel, I can make you feel. I can make you hurt. And I can make it feel so good. If I took away that numbness inside you, fill you up with my cock instead, wouldn’t that be nice?”

His words don’t make sense. He sounds like an echo of your thoughts being thrown back at you, like a twisted mirror showing your reflection. How could he know?

You stop struggling, surrendering. Yoongi is too strong, too heavy, too much for you. His eyes bore into you, deep dark irises with endless depth. You can’t look away and you start to cry.

This must be what drowning feels like, pain you’re forced to confront, a miserable knowing that you steadily lower into. It’s Yoongi who reaches for you, and it didn’t matter that he was pulling you down deeper, you cling to him for salvation.

“Do you like your job? Y/n?”

You gasp in air, looking at Yoongi’s passive face. Your hands immediately massage your itchy throat as you look around his office, catching your breath.

What the hell.

You feel like you’re losing your mind, grasping at something slipping between your fingers, something you can’t explain.

What the hell was that?

It had felt so real, so palpable, so shocking, like electricity through all your tired joints.

Yoongi clears his throat, tilting his head at you as you try to regain your composure.

“D-Do I like my job? I…yes, it’s fine. I’m fine,” you breathe out. You continue to look around the room and where Yoongi sits next to you. What was that?! Did you really imagine it all?

“Really?” He crosses his arms.

You laugh nervously. “Are you supposed to like your job? Don’t they say you shouldn’t turn what you love into work, you’ll grow to hate it or something like that, I think,” you trail off, unconfident you made any sense to him. “But this is a really good position! Thank you for the, um, promotion.”

“I see...” he says. “You know, this place is not my first choice, but I can appreciate this kind of job, it molds a certain kind of person. Someone disciplined, useful. Humans are natural born workers, did you know that? The very first man and woman had jobs. When God asked Adam and Eve to tend to his Garden. Humankind was created to work, to follow.”

This conversation is so odd. “Yes...”

“So do you think you can do that for me?” he asks, clasping his hands together.

“What, Sir?”

“Follow me.”

“I...”

“You look a bit sick,” he says, touching your forehead, causing you to flinch away.

“Y-Yeah,” you mumble, looking around his office again, worried you weren’t hearing things correctly, worried you were sick in another way, maybe you should talk to someone, go to HR. “I think I, uh, maybe need to take a sick day tomorrow.”

Yoongi frowns. “Take a half day, go home for the rest of today and get better, I need you back here tomorrow,” he commands.

“Okay,” you say shakily. “Yes, Sir.”

---

“Where am I?”

It’s a familiar room you’ve only visited in your dreams. A room with no doors. A realm you know you don’t belong in, but can’t help but come back to again and again. You should be used to the fear creeping over you, but you can’t remember why.

“Stay away.” Your words echo, come out as a weak whisper. “This is a dream, just a dream,” you mutter to yourself, trying to stand, but unable to.

Yoongi walks closer to you, ignoring your pleas.

You boss? His clothes change from the familiar sleek blue suit you remembered him in into black, brown hair to stark silver, deep dark eyes becoming even darker, turning into obsidian orbs.

You shut your eyes tightly. Your limbs feel heavy and slow, unable to move at the speed you wanted, unable to get out, unable to leave. Your body feels fractured from your mind, the physics of your dream always working against you.

“Relax,” His deep voice sends goosebumps over your skin, the pads of his fingers dig into your sole, relaxing the muscles. You open your eyes and see Yoongi back to normal again, strong hands cradling your foot. His touch is so relaxing and pleasurable, and for a moment you forget why you’re so scared, the tension releasing from your stressed body with every deep stroke across your sole and down your calf.

“Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream.” You repeat the words like a mantra when he lets your foot drop, the familiar weight of his body back again.

“Would you like to go back already? We just started.” His skillful hands presses into your skin, up your thigh, closer and closer, kneading the muscle in tantalizing circles, replacing the tension in your body with desire. “Let go and enjoy it, y/n.”

But you can’t, you need to wake up. You shouldn’t escape into your fantasies and shut out the real world every time you become stressed. How many nights has it been? Your twisted day dreams have turned into full fledged nightmares, and now you can’t escape him, this reoccurring torturous cycle every time you close your eyes and think about Yoongi.

‘Wake up, y/n.’ Get out of your head, get out of your house! You can’t keep living like this!

But you know, you’ll be here again, it just feels too good to stop. You don’t want to do anything but sleep and escape. It’s too easy.

And it’s too hard to resist him.

“Yoongi, fuck me. Please.”

Yoongi tuts, hand caressing down your throat and holding you there under him before he finally decides to stand.

“This time, work for it.”

He moves away and it’s cold loneliness without him on top of you, all you want to do is have him there again.

You feel the sudden energy return back to you at his command now that he wasn’t tangled over you. Your growing desire to have him back propels you.

You move yourself in front of him, getting on your knees. Assuming this is what he meant, you begin to unbuckle his belt.

He watches you, looking down at you dutifully fulfilling his orders. The perfect worker you are. Yoongi could get used to this kind of enthusiasm, even if he prefers you docile and completely pliable to his whims.

As you slowly pull out his length from his pants, you look up to make sure he is pleased. You let your lips stretch around him, taking him in your mouth as far as your throat allows.

“Good girl,” he sighs, “So sweet.”

He holds the back of your head, leading you to take him fully until you choke on his cock. Then he steps back, dragging your body forward by the hair, that way he keeps you connected to him, adjoined to him in the most sinful way.

You clumsily crawl forward, following his lead, knees hitting hard floor, a pain that reminds you just how much power he has over you.

Yoongi takes a seat, spreading his legs to make a place for you to kneel between them. He sighs in pleasure. In your dreams, you boss always seems much more at peace, putting pleasure first, and everything else melts away. Your worries, your responsibilities, your duty is only to him, it makes him happy.

You move your mouth, sucking him down over and over again until your jaw aches, until sweat drips down your forehead and your wrists and knees hurt and you’re messy and dripping for him. He helps guide you as you tire, hands still tangled in your hair.

He’s close, you can tell by the swell of his cock, the loud groans that escape his lips.

You taste his release, salty and thick. Your own is still so far away, you whimper around his still hard cock. Yoongi feels your quiver against him, and he gives you an unexpected mercy. He releases his hold on you, leaning back. “Get up and ride me now.”

You nod quickly, standing up. Yoongi lets you straddle him, awe over his muscular body. You don’t waste any time dropping down on his cock.

He watches you rut your hips side to side, up and down on his hard length, your hips moving fluidly against his own, chasing your pleasure. You reach for his hands and he lets you place his large palms over your breasts, watching as you mewl when he kneads and pulls on them. You place a hand across your collar bone and he takes the invitation to rest it higher, fingers squeezing around your throat, taking your air for his.

Oh, you’re good at this. And all Yoongi has to do is sit back and relax, let you take him, his own cocksleeve. A perfect disciple, willing to learn exactly what pleases him.

You close your eyes and listen to his low whisper, moans of encouragement. “You’re so close, don’t give up on me now, fuck yourself on my cock. That’s my girl. Keep going, come for your master.”

You tremble and whimper out his name like a prayer you’ve wished for over and over.

---

You wake up abruptly, falling off your couch, still in your work clothes from the day before.

You can’t believe you slept the whole day away. Maybe you really were sick. Your muscles ache, your head is spinning and you can’t stop thinking...

...about what it would really feel like...

...to have Yoongi’s hands hold down your body.

You clutch your head. ‘It wasn’t real.’

Your alarm hasn’t gone off, the sun is only just rising, you still have time to shower and get ready for work, but all you want to do is take away the frustratingly clawing ache inside of you, a desperate need you’re too embarrassed to acknowledge.

So you run a cold shower before breakfast instead.

You heave out a long drawn out sigh, letting the cool water hit your back, washing away your shamefulness.

You rest your head on cold tile. ‘Don’t think about him.’

No, don’t think about his rough hands on your delicate neck, his crotch pressed over your stomach, or the feeling of his cock getting harder against you.

Fuck, you want to fuck him.

You try to calm your breathing, tilting your head into the water. What are you doing? Your boss wouldn’t do that! He…

You touch your bottom lip…He could, if he wanted to.

Did you want him to?

The answer frightens you. No no, your morbid curiosity was nothing more than just that. You just wanted to feel fire, but you didn’t want to get burned.

So, like always, you resign yourself to this small depraved little fantasy. Behind shower curtains, hiding in the low light of your bath.

You trail your fingers down between your legs, working yourself up before you could think of talking yourself out of it.

It wasn’t really about him right now anyways. You just needed to release. You were so wound up and desperate, right?

You shudder a yes, pressing your fingers deeper into your sex.

You flinch as your back bumps into warmth. ‘This is not real.’

Smooth, wet skin, pressing back against you, fingers gripping your wrist so you don’t stop.

You feel yourself unraveling as lips run along your shoulder, the same lips you couldn’t stop thinking about. You close your eyes, whimpering, scared to look behind you and either confirm your delusions or become utterly lost in them.

You pull your fingers out, circling your clit, thinking of how good it feels to have Yoongi pressed against your back, his cock up between your legs.

The way he would be so merciless when he pushes his cock inside you, pulling your leg up higher to angle himself deeper.

You moan, feeling so full it makes your head spin.

The way his fingers would explore your body, gripping you like he owns you, pinching your nipples, pulling at your hips, pressing down on your tongue.

This fantasy feels so real, all that’s missing is…

“Can’t help yourself, greedy slut, can you? You ever wonder why that is, y/n?”

You cry out, focusing on the piercing drag of his cock against your walls. “Aw does it hurt? I told you, I would hurt you.”

He slams into you over again, water splashing with every impact against your ass. You struggle to stay standing, clinging to tile. “You’ll take it, though, like a good obedient whore.”

He pulls out, turning you around.

It shocks you how real this fantasy of yours looks. It’s dangerous how effective your thoughts work to rile you up, he’s dangerous.

“Lusting after monsters, you haven’t changed one bit, y/n.”

“I want to stop it,” you admit, shaking against him out of fear and pleasure. “I don’t know how,” you whimper, knowing you can only ever really have him like this, a twisted version of your boss you made up for yourself. It’s shameful and sickening.

“Because you’re mine. Look at you,” he tuts, “Your soul weeps for me,” he presses his fingers inside your dripping cunt, “But I want more than that, you understand?”

“What?” you stutter out.

He kisses you roughly, swallowing your whines. You close your eyes, lost to pleasure as his tongue rolls over your neck, sucking. You can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, fingers tangling in his wet hair, succumbing to your delusion.

“Devotion. Your sweet devotion, give me your that, and you won’t need to do anything else ever again.”

---

Tap tap tap.

Click Click Click.

What?

Wait. Wait.

You stand up suddenly, startling those working around you. You look around, scanning the familiar setting over and over again.

Afraid you’ll start a scene you turn your heel and walk quickly to the bathroom.

Only when you’re alone and have caught your breath do you go to the mirror and stare at your reflection.

Your hair is still damp, the collar of your work shirt is wet, fading water droplets across your jacket and skirt.

And your panties feel wet, sticking to your core.

Shit, you think, noticing your smudged makeup. How long have you looked like this? You grab paper towels quickly, rubbing away the lipstick smudged under your lip, trying to gather your thoughts together.

What was happening to you? Why can’t you remember how you got here?

You massage your temples, feeling dizzy. There has to be an explanation, you just have to look for it.

But...

...unfortunately, right now you have work to do.

You sit at your desk, chewing on crackers, contemplating the idea that you might be going completely insane.

Your cell buzzes. ‘Sixth floor meeting room. Now.’

It’s your boss of course. You can’t face him right now. You turn off your cell, nibbling on your nails in your anxiousness.

This isn’t normal, something is very wrong with you. You end up back in the bathroom, trying to retrace your steps, figuring out the minutes that were escaping you. You turn on the faucet, wetting a towel, running the wet paper across your forehead to calm yourself.

You catch your reflection again, except this time, there are two.

Another person, behind you, staring back.

An image of a devil.

A beautiful devil.

Smiling wickedly behind you, an image of a man so haunting you forget how to breathe.

You scream.

Before you can turn around and confront your worst nightmares the bathroom door bursts open, familiar hands wrapping around your wrists and pulling you away.

Yoongi is pissed.

You can tell as he drags you along, not stopping until you are back in his office.

His nails dig into your elbow, pulling you possessively closer to him. “Missing him?!”

You shake your head frantically. Miss who? Not...

Whoever that was...no, you didn’t want to think about it anymore!

You whimper, feeling weak and dizzy.

“Oh poor little y/n,” Yoongi tuts, “you just need some more rest.”

---

“What do you think you’re doing, my friend?” Jimin asks. “You’re not usually this persistent.”

Yoongi yawns, undoing his tie. “I want her longer.”

Jimin laughs, so loud it would have surely woken you up if it weren’t for Yoongi’s effect on your body. “Fine.”

He watches your brow furrow, “I do enjoy watching the fight in her return,” Jimin laughs.

For all the passion Jimin possessed, Jimin was a heartless demon.

Jimin had thoroughly broken you, taken from you until you had nothing left to give and became a boredom to him.

So it was Yoongi’s turn.

“This is a nice little world,” Jimin looks around, flicking the metal name plate in the center of Yoongi’s desk.

“We’re currently not hiring.”

“Oh, don’t be like that!” Jimin whines.

“You can have her back when I’m done.”

Jimin bites his lip in thought. “You’re not lying to me, are you, dear friend?” he asks. “You remember she called out to me first. I can, hmmm, satisfy her the best.”

Jimin’s fingers trail the curves of your body, and even in your slumber your body responds to his touch, writhing in the other demon’s lap. Yoongi holds you loosely, caressing your cheek as you whine softly. Jimin moans at the sight.

Yoongi laughs, “Concerned for her satisfaction, are you?”

Jimin holds up his palms in mock defeat, smirking. “Okay. Then, let me watch.”

---

A soft touch, wet and warm.

You’re too tired to open your eyes, not yet fully awake. Your limbs laid sprawled out, sinking into the thick covers under you, body too sluggish to move. You don’t want to wake up just yet, it feels too good. It feels real good.

You breathe in, turning your head into your pillow, leaning into the softness against your cheek, the warmth rolling over your stomach, the weight on your pelvis. It makes you gasp softly.

Yoongi smiles against your skin, mouth opening to taste you again.

Your body rocks against the soft sheets. You wish to moan, but you can’t. You wish to press your sex closer to the delicious sensation between your legs, but you can’t. If only you could wrap your legs around it, beg for more. But you can only lie sedated in your pleasure, getting wetter and wetter.

---

You wake up restless in your bed, needing to pee. Stumbling through your pitch black room, you search for the light switch, your drowsiness slipping quickly away and being replaced by an anxiousness when you can’t find it.

The darkness frightens you. But even scarier, what could be hiding, terrifies you.

Click.

You decide to keep the lights on when you return.

You lie in bed thinking about him. Min Yoongi, when did he become such an obsession for you?

Maybe you need to find yourself a boyfriend, try dating, you stay home too much. You sigh, realizing how you have spent every other night in bed...fantasizing...instead. You’ve always been alone, but you’re starting to notice the loneliness, and it’s becoming suffocating. You need to go out, appreciate the couple hours of free time in the evening you had after working all day and afternoon. You’re coming to a realization your freedom shouldn't feel so...confining. The four walls of your room feel so close now. When did you become so lazy, so closed off and boring?

The sad realization leaves you even more unwilling to take the risk. Honestly, you should be grateful you have a roof over your head and a meal in your stomach and the luxury of being able to relax at home.

What about your dreams, ambitions?

Shh, you silence that annoying voice inside you. Those aren’t affordable! And take so much more energy than you have right now. But a nicer steak the next time you go shopping, a small joy, could still be an option.

Tomorrow, you’ll buy it tomorrow.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow.

Tonight, you’ll take your mind off your troubles.

So you go back to your increasing obsession with your boss.

You breathe in, thinking of the cologne you smelled on him today. Those eyes that narrow when you do something wrong, so sexy, it almost makes you want to make him angry.

You wonder what goes on in his mind when he gets annoyed at you. If he wants to punish you, if he could get away with anything, what kind of punishment would it be? another voice inside you asks.

Bending you over his desk?

Maybe.

Would he find serenity in slaps across your ass? A belt welting your cheeks.

Your previously relaxed limbs seize.

Fuck, it hurts. It hurts so much. There is cold wood against your front and stinging down your back. You can’t help but cry out, leather digging into your wrists.

What?

How?

“Shhhhh. Keep dreaming.”

The leather bands around your wrists hurt. You’re dreaming? Really? But this is too real.

But how else could you explain this situation? Your legs spread open, Yoongi standing in between them as he admires your aching backside.

He runs his fingers over the welts across your ass, making you hiss in pain.

“Let’s keep going, shall we?”

You stay quiet, unable to move, crying out when sharp pain comes back down across your ass.

“Oh, now don’t go regretting this now. You wanted this remember?”

Another slap makes you scream out in pain. You want to wake up now. ‘Wake up!’

“You chose this. You gave away your freedom just like that, dumb girl.”

Another hard smack with his belt has you reeling, legs tightening around Yoongi’s torso as you twist your body in agony. You sob, unable to handle anymore pain.

So Yoongi forces pleasure on you instead with two fingers inserted into your pussy, massaging the throbbing pain away. He slips in and out easily, the wetness that gushed out of you was a shameful reminder that you had been a willing captive. You moan weakly, body tired.

He easily builds up your orgasm, practiced fingers curling into your sex, stroking you inside and out until you’re close to bursting.

Yoongi stops, taking the moment to strike your ass with his messy palm. You shiver and cry out. “P-Please,” you stutter, pulling at your restraints.

Yoongi resumes his ministrations, “Please...Sir,” he reminds you.

“Please, Sir, let me come,” you gasp.

Yoongi turns you around, lifting your restrained hands over your head. He moves so fast you yelp at the sudden movement, only realizing after he lets go that the loud thud you heard was his letter opener sticking into wood and restraining you to his desk.

Your breathe becomes ragged as you lie tied down, body exposed to him. His thumb swipes over your clit, making you cry out his name. He sits, rubbing lazy circles into you, watching your body uncontrollably react. The buildup is achingly slow, steady, reliable, you know your orgasm is approaching and you are ever so close to release, yet Yoongi draws it out, until you feel the pressure in your ears, in you throat, in your feet, in your chest.

If this was another fantasy, it was the best one yet. Yoongi had fire in his eyes, electric movement, a demanding touch. You cum hard, crying out.

It wasn’t over even after your orgasm finished, Yoongi moves in closer, lips kissing your inner thigh. “Stay still, relax,” he smirks when your breath hitches.

You lose your breath all over again when his face rests in between your legs, burying his mouth into your sex. His tongue rolls over your folds, sucks on your abused nub. You clench your jaw and accept his pleasure. Your body pulses over and over again as Yoongi eats you out, your legs and hands going numb, but like Yoongi promised, you felt everything he was giving you, until exhaustion overcame you.

You wake up, still wet. You try not to feel ashamed, but your shame sticks to your core, underwear drenched and stretched as you slept.

Maybe it’s time to look for another job.

“Here’s your reports. And the notes for your next presentation. And-” you hand Yoongi a warm cup of coffee, “-for you. Black, half sugar.”

“Thank you, y/n,” Yoongi grunts, sipping the coffee.

“Thank you, Sir,” you smile, beaming.

Yoongi smiles too. It’s slight, barely there, but you notice the small curl of his lips. “You did well,” he reaches for your waist, pulling you close. “My best girl.”

You smile. “I-” you falter, “Have I…have we always been like this?” you think out loud.

“Does it matter? Doesn’t this feel right?” His hand caresses this inside of your thigh, disappearing under your skirt.

“S-Sir?!”

“Isn’t it nice working for me, why would you want to leave?”

You swallow, trying to sort out your surroundings, the happiness inside you shrinking away.

“Has that always been there?” you ask.

Yoongi glances at the corner of his office, pressing his fingers against your panties, rubbing on your clit through the sheer fabric.

You stare at the relic that didn’t belong there, a golden piano. No, that wasn’t quite right, it was an organ.

Yoongi pulls your gaze back to him, caressing your check. “That poor little mind of yours...” he sighs, tutting. “Why don’t you forget about that and just enjoy yourself? You’re finally starting to be useful to me.”

You can’t help but look for the organ from the corner of your eyes, a cold dripping feeling running down your spine.

Yoongi pulls you into his lap until you’re straddling him, your tight skirt digging into your thighs as you have to widen your legs around him. His mouth latches onto your neck to distract you, licking your clammy skin, sending shivers down you again.

His fingers curl inside your panties, moving the fabric to the side, so he can insert his digits fully. You hold his shoulders for stability, biting down moans.

“This is another dream.”

“Oh have you been dreaming about me?” he smirks.

“No!” you pant, “Yes...I’m dreaming.” His steady pressure moving inside you makes you dizzy, your jaw going slack as you lean into him. You can’t help but widen your legs, giving in to him in your lust. Yoongi takes the opportunity to kiss you, devouring your lips.

A knock on Yoongi’s office door stops his movements.

You stand up quickly, straightening your clothes, looking over at the corner where you could have sworn you had seen the large organ instrument.

“These came in for you, Sir.” A receptionist drops off three packages for him, excusing herself quietly before looking you over, her eyes narrowing at your appearance.

“You can leave now,” he says curtly and she huffs before leaving. He then turns back to you, swiping his fingers across his lips, tongue jutting out to roll over his wet glistening digits.

You pat down your skirt, legs wobbling. This wasn’t a dream?

“Come here.”

“Sir?” You look at the door, closed again, but unlocked.

“Come here, y/n.”

You take one hesitant step closer. Was this really happening? “W-We can’t,” you stutter out. “You can’t-”

“I can do whatever I want,” Yoongi laughs, “I’m the boss, remember? Now, come here.” He moves his chair further away, turning to fully face you, legs spread, a position you’ve only dreamed about.

You wipe the perspiration away from your brow and neck, looking down at his black Oxfords, until you’re finally courageous enough to look Yoongi in the eye, and what a mistake that was.

His eyes held a challenge that you couldn’t back away from. Yoongi was unbuckling his belt, undoing the button of his slacks.

He didn’t say come here this time, his pointer finger only had to draw one small movement to coax you to him.

He pulls you back to his lap easily, lets you clumsily touch him. This was really happening, and your boss seemed to be enjoying himself, acting so much nicer.

The smile he revealed, you believed to show kindness.

You smiled foolishly back, and he patted you head.

You hesitantly moved in for a kiss, pressing your lips softly to him, heart leaping when he opened his mouth for more, tasting his tongue.

The door opens again and you freeze, mortified at your predicament.

“I thought I told you to stay away.”

“You did, but look at her, she’s dripping with lust.”

With your back to the door, you can't see who is behind you, but his smooth sultry voice makes you shudder.

His words feels like daggers, each syllable chiseling away at you, fracturing what was left that held you together, revealing the truth underneath. It hit you like a splash of cold water, like waking up from a dream.

You look down at your hands, grasping tightly onto Yoongi’s shirt. “Father Park?”

“Hmm, not here,” he laughs, hands in his pockets, “Here you can call me Daddy,” he cocks his head, smiling.

Yoongi caresses your check, holding your jaw up when your head lulls to the side. You hear clicking, a belt buckle unfastening.

---

You wake up again in darkness.

That darkness never really left you, did it?

“Why are you doing this to me?” you call out.

The organ player reveals himself. He must have always been there too. “Because this is what you wanted,” he crawls over you, like he’s done countless times before, “what you begged for, prayed for, gave up everything for.”

“No, I didn’t want this,” you stutter out. Who was that woman you became? You barely recognized yourself in her...

Yet there were similarities, you suppose. If you had to recite a list of all your sins, you suppose your lists would look identical. If you had that kind of life, you suppose the path she took would have your footprints as well...

“Am I dead?” you look at your surroundings, soft sheets under you, fabric cascading over your body.

“Dead? No.” Yoongi chuckles. “You exist, y/n. Well, for us, death is just another existence.” Yoongi lies down next to you, arm over your stomach. You should push him away from you, but it’s cold and Yoongi is warmth, a fire lighting up the darkness.

“So I am dead...” you whisper.

“Is that what you’re worried about?” Yoongi laughs. Humans can be quite amusing, he thinks. “What if I told you, you’re very much alive. See, the living realm is so much more fun, why would we keep you dead?”

“This place...”

“Welcome home,” Yoongi sighs, head snuggled to your shoulder.

“Is this hell?” you whisper, head heavy and limbs slow.

“No, not yet,” Yoongi smirks, “It’s just a dream. A place we can be alone together.”

“What is Jimin doing to my body?” you ask. You heart pounds, making you dizzy and anxious for the answer.

“Your body? Humans really are funny creatures...What is a body but a vessel to hold what’s really important, your soul, and who owns your soul, y/n?” he asks you. You stay quiet, resisting the answer, the consequence you’ll never escape from. “I will tell you something,” he whispers in your ear, “Your soul is here, with me. I hold it for the time being.” He places his hand over your heart, cupping your breast. “Feels just like it would in the physical world, doesn’t it?” he massages and tugs at the flesh. “Maybe it’s better, if you stay here with me?”

“Stay here, with you?” you repeat, trying to think of anything other than Yoongi’s slow torturous touch. You realize his touch feels familiar, skilled fingers like an old lover’s. You’ve betrayed yourself, over and over again.

You wonder if this is what you’ve become now, traitorous, self-gratifying, weak...did Father Park do this to you? Yoongi? Or was this...ache...void inside you always there, begging to be filled, to be touched?

And Yoongi was so excellent at making you feel whole, feel full of him and nothing else. He hugged you secure like a blanket, hands claiming you, soft and slow, with all the time in the world to make you his.

“If you decide you’d rather, let me have you, instead. Jimin is a master of desire. But we all are very adept at pleasure,” Yoongi smirks. “We can stay here for as long as you like. Your bones can turn to dust, but with me, here, your soul will remain. And you’ll be my Queen.” He kisses you, a slow drag of his lips pressing heavily onto yours making you feel even weaker.

The cascading fabric became tight around you, gold rings fastening it all in place to become a beautiful gown. You noticed Yoongi too wore gold, adorned on a black suit of armor fit for a King.

“Isn’t this what you dream of always?” he asks, a small smile pulling at his lips that made him look unthreatening. You knew better, but those tiny truths were being quieted by your King, who played his role so well, stuck his tongue inside your mouth and muted any lingering objections.

He places his hands on top of yours, stretching your arms upward, holding you in place, tongue taking away your voice. He lies his weight on top of you, kissing too sweetly the stretch of your neck, head nestled in the valley between your breasts, body sinking between your legs, mounting pleasure taking all your doubts away. “You don’t have to worry anymore,” Yoongi lies, “Give up. Give in.”

You try to keep your eyes open.

Yet your eyes flutter shut.

---

“Y/n.”

“Huh?” You turn your head in question.

Yoongi clears his throat, “As I was saying, due to the merger everyone is going to have to buckle down. We have to implement all new procedures, switch operating systems, upgrade the database... Are you listening!”

“Yes? Yes! Yes, Sir.” You sit up straighter, focusing on your boss.

“Expect to be here extra days, at least until everything settles in place.”

“Yes, Sir,” you nod, unsuccessfully trying not to frown.

“Also, since you will be managing twice as many people,” you wince at the thought, “You will have an assistant.”

On cue, there is a knock on Yoongi’s door.

“Hello,” you nod, standing up, forgetting you still had your binder in your lap, and papers scatter all over the floor. Yoongi curses as you quickly pick up your mess.

Your new assistant hands you the last stack of your remaining papers. You thank him, flustered at his kind gesture, your face heating up when you accidently bump his finger with your own.

“Hello,” he grins.

Yoongi lifts you up by the elbow, catching you off guard as you struggle to reorient yourself. “Nice to meet you, um...”

“Park Jimin.” Jimin licks his lips, beaming with excitement. “Hey, boss.”

You watch as the pair clasp hands, exchanging greetings. And a small part of you wonders, how it would feel

if their hands

were touching you instead.

---

So did you catch that y/n was actually reborn, did I fool you? But alas her soul is still theirs u.u

If this reaches 1k then I guess I will write a Mr. Kim version with the Kim trio, cause I’m not making myself suffer like this again for nothing lol :’D

#bts yandere #bts demon au #yandere bts #bts smut #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #suga smut #suga x reader #bts one shot #bts scenarios #bts fantasy au

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a-aexotic · 1 year

Note

Could you write something around the sentence “I’d choose you over anyone” with Rafe :))) preferably kinda enemies (or friends) to lovers angsty type of thing xx thank you!!

ren's notes hey! of course i can, enemies to lovers w/ rafe is literally my dream ugh. y/n out here living the dream. ALSO im sorry i totally forgot about the prompt :(

pairing. rafe cameron x fem!reader requested? yes no

warnings. drinking, mention of hickies, enemies to lovers, ooc sarah/rafe, angst to fluff

summary. being best friends with sarah, it was natural to hate rafe. you hate him and he hates you, or that's what everyone else though.

➜ missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. masterlist. taglist. ❫

As long as you could remember, you hated Rafe Cameron. From the very beginning, you hated him - ever since you'd move in next to the Cameron's, you and Rafe had been at each other's throats. It was something that had become a norm for the Cameron's and the L/N's.

You and Rafe are too similar. You guys are both hotheaded, blunt and kind of reckless. You guys are too similar to around each other, it was like forcing two negatives together; it would cause them to want to explode on one another.

As you got older, the more mature you got. And naturally, you wanted this stupid rivalry between you two to end. But if there was anything you knew about Rafe, it was that he was not mature.

So now he loved pressing your buttons, going over the line and getting on your nerves. He loved it, it was his favorite part of the day; seeing you all flustered and bothered when he made a snide remark that you didn't have a response to. It was his goal, to see you all embarrassed and annoyed.

Rafe knew you surprisingly, very well. You'd been best friends with Sarah since you had moved in next door and he'd heard all your secrets when you and Sarah would have sleepovers. He made it a point to learn all your weak points and secrets, not use them against you... Well, maybe sometimes, but just for fun. Again, it was a fun hobby for the bored Cameron sibling.

Everyone who knew Rafe or you knew you two had despised each other. That was just a fact of the island, everyone knew it.

You walked into the Cameron's house on a mission; find the heels that Sarah had stole from you so you could prove to yourself (and Sarah) that you weren't crazy. Those heels didn't just grow legs and walk, did they? You didn't have a little sister and the only person who consistently borrows and never returns your clothes is Sarah.

You knew Sarah would be at John B's today so this was the perfect time. You walked upstairs and barged into Sarah's room, walking to her closet and looking through her shoes.

To most people, that was considered "crossing a boundary," but you and Sarah were basically sisters at that point so looking through her clothes to find an item you were missing wasn't out of the ordinary. You wouldn't do that if she would just put the damned items back.

And plus you needed those heels asap, tonight was Midsummers. It was the event of the summer and you loved dressing up in cute dresses and nice heels; you'd been planning the outfit for months. You made the outfit surrounding the heels: without the heels, your outfit would be nothing. You already bought a matching dress and a Tiffany necklace, now all you needed were the heels.

Sarah swore she didn't have them, but who else would take them?

You were looking through her shirts and you found the Reputation shirt you were looking for two months ago, who she also swore she didn't have. You scoffed, "Bitch."

The more you looked, the more frustrated you were because you could not find the heels anywhere. You heard a knock at the door and sighed, "Come in."

Rafe walked in and his face contorted into a disgusted one. "Ew, you're not Sarah."

"Shut up, Rafe. God, do you have anything better to do? Shouldn't you be golfing with thing 1 and thing 2 right now?" You groaned and he couldn't help but laugh at your nicknames for Top and Kelce.

"Shouldn't you be making out with your gross Pogue boyfriend?" He countered, making you roll your eyes again.

"JJ's not my boyfriend."

He sighed, "Good, I was hoping you wouldn't go as low as dating a Pogue. Anyway, what are you doing in Sarah's room?"

You furrowed your brows at his words before sighing. "I can't find the pair of heels I was going to wear at Midsummers and I think I might just end it all."

"You should, it'd be great for the world." Rafe smirked and you put your head in your arms, groaning in frustration. You didn't need Rafe's snarkiness right now, you just wanted to find those heels.

"Wait." He paused. "Are they uh, pink and glittery?"

You turned your head up, looking at Rafe with a suspicious glint in your eye. "Yeah..."

"Oh, shit." He walked away and then returned a few seconds later with your heels in his hands. You got up and ran to him, grabbing them from his hands.

"Why would take them! What the hell, Rafe? Are you crazy?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Lower your fucking voice, jesus. You're so loud. I didn't take them, okay? They just ended up in my room and I thought one of the girls I had over left them, okay?"

You scoffed in disgust. "You're gross."

"Don't act like you haven't had a boy over, Y/N. I know you have, you make it so obvious with your hickies and shit." Rafe spoke, sighing with an ounce of jealousy in voice. You almost thought you misheard it.

You felt your face heat up at mention of hickies. "They're not hickies they're rashes, okay? My neck is sensitive."

He laughed, "Alright sure. Sensitive neck, my ass."

You rolled your eyes for what seemed like the millionth time that day as you walked through the door of Sarah's bedroom, making it a goal to make sure to hit Rafe's shoulder on the way out.

"So immature," you mumbled.

Rafe smiled as he watched you walk away, his goal accomplished. Leave you flustered and annoyed, check. He walked back to his room with a wide grin.

As you walked back your house, heels in hand, you kept picturing Rafe's annoying smirk. It kept replaying in your mind and you feel yourself burning up at the thought of the older brother.

You wanted to slap yourself, were you crazy? Why were you acting like that over Rafe? You hated him more than anyone else in the world, he made your life unnecessarily annoying. So why does your heart skip a beat when you see his annoyingly perfect smile?

This has been happening for the last couple months and you feel yourself becoming more and more vulnerable with every remark he makes: you can never counter them, your mind going blank. You felt stupid and weak, you couldn't just let Rafe win this decade long fight. You weren't going to let him.

You and Sarah were at your house, getting ready for Midsummers. This was your favorite event of the year - in all honesty, you loved how classy it made you feel. The dances, the champagne, everyone else looking on the inside, jealous. It was a secret pleasure you happily took part in; I mean, what's the point of being a Kook if you can't flex it?

"See, I told you I didn't take it." Sarah mumbled annoyed as she did her eyeshadow.

You scoffed, "then how'd it end up in Rafe's room?"

She looked back at you with a smirk, "I don't know, you tell me."

The same burning sensation had came onto your face as you shook your head in annoyance, turning back to curling your hair. "God, you're gross for even... even suggesting that."

"Suggesting what, Y/N? You're the one with the dirty mind, I never said anything."

"God, shut up! My parents could hear us, y'know?"

Sarah laughed at your displeasure. "Are you excited to meet up with Nick?"

You smiled. Nick was your longtime crush; you've liked him since seventh grade and you just had the nerve to ask him out now. He was the hottest guy in OBX: he was a football player, he was smart, had pretty eyes you could stare into for hours long and soft curly hair. He was your dream guy and he agreed to be your date to Midsummers.

"Yes, I am. I hope he thinks I'm pretty-"

Sarah scoffed at you. "Of course he will, you are pretty. Don't even say that, who cares what he thinks?"

"I kind of do, I mean I've liked him for so long, I don't know what I'd do if he didn't like me back." You confided in Sarah. She looked back you, sympathetically.

"Well, I mean... He agreed to be your date for Midsummers, that's a good start."

You nodded in response. "Yeah! It is."

You both finished with your hair and makeup, now all you had to do was get dressed. You had bought this pink dress to match with your heels and your hair was curled and in an half up half down hairstyle. You also had bought a new Tiffany necklace to tie the whole look together.

Sarah wore her white dress and cute headpiece. You looked in the mirror and you were genuinely proud of yourself for making this outfit come true.

"Wow, that dress is stunning on you." Sarah was breathless; you look beyond beautiful; you looked flawless. You smiled at her.

"Thank you, Sarah. You too. I love that dress on you, it's perfect."

You and Sarah eventually got the texts from your ride, your crush and date, Nick. He was outside waiting for you guys. You tried not to squeal with excitement as you walked down the stairs, your dress perfectly flowing. You already felt like the night was going to be the most magical and a night to remember.

His Benz was waiting outside for you and Sarah and she smirked at you. "You excited?"

"Yes, I can't wait to dance with him." You whispered to her as she opened the door for you. His friend was already in the front seat so you and Sarah were in the back.

"Ladies first."

You giggled at Sarah's words as you went in, taking a seat. Sarah came in right after you. The smell of strong cologne immediately hit you, with a faint smell of weed. You scrunched your nose as you held your breathe; surprisingly, those two smells weren't the best mixture of smells.

"Wow, I like your dress, Y/N." His friend commented and you waited for Nick's reply. He was on his phone, taking a snap before he realized that he needed to answer. He turned to you with a big smile.

"Uh, yeah. It's gorgeous." He started the car and you lent back in your seat, content with his answer. Sarah glared at him before looking back at you. You ignored her disapproval. He then took his friend's vape pen and took another hit.

The ride there wasn't as magical as you thought it would be. You and Sarah were the only ones talking as the country music on the radio in the background making it somewhat even more awkward. Luke Combs wasn't exactly the artist you wanted to listen to right now.

His friend turned to you and Sarah. "You wanna pregame?"

You and Sarah both shared a look before both shaking your heads. Tonight wasn't about getting drunk or high to either of you. Nick nodded though.

"Yes sir, gimme."

His friend laughed before taking out a few fireball shots, handing one to Nick.

"You sure you wanna be taking that... Uh, now?" Sarah spoke up, refering to him drinking and driving. He waved her off, nodding.

"We'll be fine, it's one shot." He made his friend open the bottle and he quickly took the shot, making him shake his head and let out a loud "Woo." His friend soon did the same.

You couldn't have gotten to the Club any quicker; you wanted to leave the air immediately. Maybe Nick would act a little better once you were in front of their parents.

You and Sarah exited the car and so did the boys. Nick went up to you and took your arm in his, smiling down at you. "Okay, let's go dance."

You smiled. You texted him the first you wanted to do when you got to Midsummers was dance and he remembered. How cute was he?

Sarah was awkwardly standing beside you guys as you walked in. You were so excited you could barely contain it, you squeezed his arm. "I'm so excited!"

Sarah excused herself so she could find and talk Wheezie instead of third wheeling with you.

He hummed in response as he took you the dancefloor, putting his hands on your waist as you put your arms around his neck. The night was as magical as they come; clear starry sky, the sound of faint music coming from inside and the waves crashing onto the beach.

You see Nick's gaze shift to someone behind you and he looked like he'd just seen a ghost. He lets go of you and clears his throat. "Let me uh, go get us some drinks."

You were confused but you nodded along. He walked away and you were by yourself, standing there waiting for Nick to return. You stood there for 15 minutes before deciding that maybe you should go check up on him. You were beginning to worry.

You looked all over the bar and you couldn't find him. You found his friend from before and as he caught your gaze, he had suddenly became tense and nervous.

"Hey, uh. Do you know where Nick went?"

"Nope. Not a clue." His friend replied as you furrowed your eyebrows in suspicion. If anyone knew where Nick was, it was obviously going to be him.

You heard some snuffling in the back and you moved your gaze to behind the boy. There was a door. You quickly walked away to the door and knocked.

"Uh, you shouldn't go in-"

When there was no answer, you opened it to see a girl you had never seen before and Nick. She was on a table and he was in front of her, exchanging spit.

Your heart dropped at the scene, your mouth flew open. "What the hell?!" You shouted.

Nick had turned around and seen you and his eyes widened and he immediately turned away from the girl. "Oh, Y/N-"

"Oh my gosh, you are so gross." You couldn't help but feel your eyes water at the sight, a single tear rolling down your cheek. Your night was definitely ruined now. So much for a magical evening.

You turned away from the scene, ignoring Nick's pleas and you walked away through the crowds. You were so focused on trying not to cry more, you accidentally bumped into someone and they spilled their red wine all over your brand new dress.

You looked up to see Rose and she immediately apologizes but you were already in tears, you broke down. You started crying as she rubbed your shoulder comfortingly.

"I-I'm sorry, Y/N, I can buy you a new one!" Rose exclaimed happily but you shook your head.

Rafe was talking to Kelce when he had heard all the commotion happen - he saw Nick with that girl and then he saw you walking away; he quickly followed you.

He didn't know why he did it; it's not like he cared about you, he just wanted to make sure you were alright. Rafe followed you to where you and Rose were and immediately went by your side.

As he saw your puffy eyes and your dress all ruined, something clicked. He was suddenly angry; he'd heard how excited you were about Midsummers and look how it's turning out.

He heard someone walk up to you and he turned his head to see none other than Nick.

"Y/N, are you- are you okay?" He put his hand on your shoulder and you turned around to shake your head. You really didn't want to make a scene but Nick was the last person you wanted to see, so he was making it impossible for you to keep your cool.

"God, no! You just ruined my night."

He looked around at all the people staring and he took your hand but you ripped it out of his grasp. "Don't touch me, Nick."

Despite your efforts, he still decided to put his hand on your shoulder. Rafe had enough; he pushed him away from you and grabbed him by his collar.

"She said don't touch her, man." Rafe shouted at Nick. "So don't fuckin' touch her."

You couldn't take it anymore; there were too many people everyone and suddenly the music was too loud. You walked away from the scene and held in your cry. You couldn't even go home because stupid Nick had drove you here in his stupid Mercedes.

Rafe let go of Nick once he realized you had walked away. He tried to look for Sarah but she was no where to be found. "Where's Sarah when you fucking need her," he mumbled.

Rose was worried sick about you, wondering what had happened. "Rafe, go talk to her and I'll find Sarah, okay?"

He nodded and sighed. He was worried about you, too but he was going to admit that.

You heard footsteps behind you and you turned around expecting Sarah but you were slightly disappointed once you saw it was Rafe. He sat next to you silently as you sniffled.

He sighed and look over at you. "Nick's an asshole."

You nodded silently. Rafe looked over at you and the sight of you crying made him angrier. He hadn't even managed to make you cry in the 10 years he’d know you; he couldn't believe that Nick could've done so easily. He was slightly glad that he'd never made you cry before because the sight alone made him miserable.

"I'm sorry about... your dress. It was really pretty."

You looked over at Rafe, disbelief in your eyes. Did Rafe Cameron just call your dress... pretty?

He laughed at your expression, making you crack a small smile. His laugh always made you feel a little better, even if it was directed at you.

There was silence for a moment, just listening to the waves crashing and the music from inside the Club. Rafe turned to you, "I know we're not friends or anything... but uh, I'm here if you want to talk."

You smiled back at Rafe. It was unusual to see such a sweet Rafe but you've known him long enough to see it sometimes. He's not completely evil. And maybe you didn't completely hate him. You knew he doesn't like seeing you, Sarah or Wheezie cry. Even though he pretended to hate them, he really doesn't.

You turned away from Rafe, taking a deep inhale. "I don't want to bother you-"

"You're not." Rafe quickly refuted.

You suddenly felt a pidge of guilt as you looked over at Rafe; you possibly ruined his night as well. "Rafe, I'm sorry. You shouldn't feel responsible to calm me down."

Rafe sighed and rolled his eyes. "Stop apologizing, Y/N. You didn't do anything wrong. No one made me come and help you, okay? I did it out of my own free will."

You sighed. "Nick is an asshole."

"We've agreed on that."

"I just wish that I had a perfect night, I had such high expectations and they all just plummeted as the night went on. I know what you're going to say, I shouldn't have had my standards up so high. But I did. And here I am, my dress and makeup ruined and no date." You ranted as Rafe listened and nodded along.

"You don't need a date to be happy. Or a nice dress. Or makeup, I mean, you already look beautiful as is." Rafe said confidentally, making you turn your gaze back to Rafe. You smiled at his words.

"You mean it?"

"Yes, you do look beautiful." Rafe sighed; it was obvious though, everyone thought it. It was just pure fact.

You felt a heat come on to your face and you looked away, bashfully. Rafe Cameron was so confusing - how could one person make you feel so many things?

"I mean, don't get me wrong. You're still the most annoying person on this island, but beautiful nonetheless."

You grinned slightly as you rolled your eyes. That was the Rafe Cameron you knew. "Wow, so nice. Thanks."

You both let out a soft laugh before sitting in calm silence again. The summer breeze making you shiver as you looked at the beach in front of you. Rafe noticed this and without another word, took off his blazer and put it on top of you.

Before you could thank him, you heard a familar shout behind you.

"Y/N!" Sarah ran out to you and Rafe. She was breathless, taking a moment to catch her breathe before continuing. "Fuck Nick. My gosh, I've wanted to say that this whole week. He's so annoying. I'm glad you saw his true colors sooner rather than later, Y/N."

She took a seat between you and Rafe, seperating you. She saw that you were wearing his blazer and she smirked to herself.

"Wow." She said, simply. "Kie owes me 15$"

You and Rafe both looked each other then back at Sarah. "What?"

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https-lovely · 10 months

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knew better

Onyankopon x black! reader

CW:Nsfw, cheating

AN: uh this is my first story so yeah, also sorry if there is some spelling mistakes

You have always been what people call the stereotypical “good girl”

Getting all A’s in school and if you ever got a B you would go out of your way and work extra hard to get an A next time

You came from a nice wealthy family, your mom being a doctor and your dad being a lawyer

When it came in time for college you had scholarships waiting for you but obviously you chose the college of your dreams

You ultimately had some rules for college, never go to parties, never drink, most definitely never smoke, you know all the basic stuff

Well that didn’t go as planned, you joined a.group of friends and they sure were busy bodies, while you were in the dorm making study guides for all of them including yourself, they were going to party after party which you didn’t mind, right?

“Girlll you gotta come to this party with us it’s gonna be so fun trust me you needa let loose and relax a little” your friend Leah said trying to get you out your dorm

After a bunch of pestering she finally convinced, and to be honest you wanted to let loose, she lent you one of her dresses and heels since you didn’t pack any, not planning on going to any parties

You were having a great time which is when you met Eren you have heard people say his name in the hallways but never actually saw him before or engaged in conversation with him

You guys got to talking and exchanged numbers but turns out he was just a playboy, 3 weeks into your “relationship” you found out he had a girlfriend of 1 year who tried to fight you when she found out you was with “her man” luckily Eren had a little bit of sense to save that girl, just because you were a goody two shoes didn’t mean you didn’t know how to fight

After that you never went to any more parties for about the rest of the semester until this very day.

“Please come to this party with us it will be funnn and we promise not to let you out of our sight to mess with any more of those boys” your friend Sasha said practically pulling you out your desk chair

“Sasha you know why I don’t want to go” you pulled your arm out of her grasp before getting up and looking at your friends all dressed up and ready

“Please y/n/n just one last party before the semester endssss” she dragged out the ‘s’ and looked at you with those puppy dog eyes

“Fine” you don’t know why you agreed because you knew better

When you got to the party a strong smell of alcohol went into your nose making your stomach hurt

Sasha ran off into her boyfriends arms, Connie, who looked at you and nodded

You waved at him before walking over to Sasha not wanting to be alone since all of your other friends went who knows where

“Ooo connie where’s your one friend I want y/n to meet him” Sasha said while winking at you

“Who, Ony? He’s over there dealing”

Dealing? You looked at Sasha with wide eyes she knows you don’t associate with that, but she shrugged and grabbed your hand pulling you as she followed behind connie

When you finally stopped in front of you was probably the most finest man you have ever seen

Darkskinned, nice line up, tight black t shirt that showed off his muscles and tatted up arms

“You gon keep staring ma?” A deep voice said nocking you out of your trance

“Oh sorry” you let out quietly not meaning to be staring for so long

“It’s all good, what’s your name though I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around here” he patted a spot next to him motioning you to come sit down

You sat down next to him before answering

“it’s Y/N” he nodded before starting to roll up

“Mhm, do you smoke pretty?” You shook your head

“Nope never even been close to it before”

He nodded his head finishing rolling up, the way his tongue slid over it had you feeling some type of way

“You wanna try it?” He looked into your eyes starring deep

“I don’t know how I’d probably fuck it up” you said honestly

He just nodded his head before taking a hit

You waited for him to blow it out but he grabbed your chin motioning you to open your mouth before blowing the smoke into your mouth, why did you even let that happen? Because you knew better, right?

After a few rounds of that Sasha was wasted and it was time to go back to your dorm

You guys exchanged numbers and when you got back to your dorm you settled in laying Sasha on her bed and taking a shower, you then got a notification

ony

-come open the door ma

You don’t know why you were so excited by the message but you hurried and opened the door being met by a tall 6’3 figure

You stepped outside closing the door behind you as you looked up at him

You don’t know what made you follow him all the way across campus to his dorm, what made you go inside, and what made you let him take your virginity which led to now

"Face down, ass up princess." Ony said with a deep voice sending shivers down your spine

You did as he said, slowly arching your back for him, sticking your ass in the air and gently swaying side to side. He didn't waste any time grabbing your sides and pulling you closer to him before slowly pushing himself inside of you.

You both let out a sigh as he slides through your walls and stretches you out, it hurts but the way he massages your ass and coos sweet nothings in your ear made you able take it.

When you felt comfortable, you began to throw it back on ony. Pushing your ass back onto him before rocking forward and pushing it back again.

He held your hips and watched with hooded eyes as your warm pussy slowly engulfed his long dick, he pressed onto your back and began thrusting his hips to meet yours. "You feel so fucking good y/n. ..shitt"

"Fuck baby" he sped up with his thrusts, the sounds of squelching and cheeks clapping bounced off of the walls. He moved his hand away from your hip and used it to play with your sensitive bud, further intensifying the pleasure and resulting in a loud hum from your throat.

“You’re so tight ma, shitt” he flipped you over into missionary wanting to look into your eyes while he fucked you

“Mhm baby you’re so pretty” your eyes rolled back when he started hitting that spot over and over

“Baby look at me i wanna see your face when I make you cum all over my dick” he said thrusts getting faster before he reached down and started rubbing the letters of his name into your clit

“O—oh fuck I’m gon- on-“ just then you came so hard, head thrown back and legs shaking

He pulled out stroking himself a little and releasing on your stomach

He carried your back to your dorm since your legs were so sore and left

After that when you woke up you blocked him on everything because you knew better than to catch feelings for someone again

If you even saw anyone who resembled him you avoided them like the plague

That was until you we’re walking back your dorm, pulling your keys from your bag and looking up seeing him standing in front of your door

Why did you get yourself into this mess, if you, miss goody two shoes, what people call the stereotypical ‘good girl’ knew better?

#ony x black reader #onyankopon x black reader #black!reader

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inkofamethyst · 2 years

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July 10, 2022

[yesterday]

Sometimes I wish I could be paid to sit around in pretty dresses and just exist beautifully. Then I remember that humans are a fickle species and that our idea of beauty can change within seconds and that’s probably not the most reliable source of income. And then I dip back into my escapist daydream again because honestly, it would still be nice, if even for a moment.

I self-drafted a Swiss Waist an Edwardian Dip Waist Belt (Swiss Waists have points that go up and down, Edwardian belts generally only point down) today and I’m literally in love. The mockup (made from the teal poly bedsheet, baglined, with no boning or interlining) went together really quickly and it’s so striking against my black flannel circle skirt (which, one day, will be replaced by a black circle skirt made from a superior fabric, but today is not that day). I’m going to have to do a few minor alterations and pick up a few additional notions, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to make a ton of these in all sorts of different colors and fabrics and patterns (after I do more research on what would have been worn during the period, of course, but also I don’t really care about accuracy and think it’s a fantastic use of scrap), especially since I can make them out of little off-cuts (now I’ve actually got an excuse to buy them at JoAnn instead of “oh maybe I’ll use it to line something later”). I am ECSTATIC rn. After this success, I might even feel brave enough to try doing some of those princess seam alterations I’d planned months ago. And maybe I’ll draft some secret pants or another walking skirt with this whole basque waist thing goin on.

[today]

I have purchased the wares of Tailoress JoAnn and have since created a plum-colored Edwardian Belt sewn entirely by hand and I am in love with it and want many more. It went together super quick and I could totally make even quicker versions (fusible interfacing, baglining, no boning), but this could become the type of handsewing project that I take with me to campus. ALSO I’ve finally mastered the cute little whipstich instead of my raggedy uneven ones!!!

I am also very very very close to impulse buying a pair of Memery shoes during their summer sale/clearance event because I’ve always said that I wish I could have a pair of character shoes that I could wear off the stage and they’re basically exactly that and people say they’re super comfy and ahhhhh I mean they’re a wee expensive, sure, but I’m making a bit of extra cash this summer and they’d really really help with the whole historybounding thing (especially since I’m never ever ever buying cheap historybounding shoes again I mean the last ones I got are cute and all but they certainly don’t feel great). It’s just a question of whether I actually want a pair of lil heels or some oxfords. Unfortunately all the black ones are out of stock in my size :/ Brown, cream, beige, or wait? I’m actually leaning toward waiting.

Next project: McCall’s 8177 View B with a little extra length, hopefully, from the beigey-pink I got overseas. I’ve got my size cut out and I’m going to mockup the top to check for fit before diving in. It’s supposedly a quick project, but we shall see. Not historyboundy, exactly, but cute and fun and I said I wanted a sundress this summer and this might be as close as I’ll get. Plus I should be able to wear it under skirts as a top :)

One of these days I’m going to talk about the breakup, I promise, but I’m kind of in a good mood right now and don’t want to ruin it.

Today I’m thankful that I have a decent sleep schedule lol. It’s kinda nice to wake up refreshed at a decent time in the morning. Hopefully I’ll keep this up for a while.

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hankatmorris · 7 months

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ANOTHER FAILURE, ANOTHER OPPORTUNITY

a Hank AT Morris short story

Rusty took one last gulp of his drink and grabbed his suit jacket from the bar stoll. What a waste of a 20 year Scotch, he thought to himself, that date sucked.

The girl who he had invited for drinks barely spoke the whole evening. More interested in her phone than their meeting, even though they had been messaging non-stop for a week.

His lack of free time from work and study had put him off dating. Now he recently finished his final subject and started a new job, he thought it was time to start again.

He'd been on dates with 6 women so far. None lasting more than a second date.

Was the effort worth it?

What was he doing wrong?

These questions, among others, made him question everything - his worth, value, the person he was. Like the Scotch, it felt like the time spent was wasted.

He reached for his phone. His screensaver read "Live like your blood type and B+". He let out a small laugh. It was a silly saying, but he it was who he was. Despite the frustration of the dates he had lately, it wasn't forever. He knew his positivity would always win out.

In the meantime, maybe a few mates would be around for a beer or 10 and quickly prepared a message in the group chat.

Before he could press send, someone had knocked into him. As his phone dropped on to the bar, he noticed a woman had grabbed onto him to stop herself from falling.

"I'm so sorry," she exclaimed breathlessly. "I think my heel just snapped off."

He turned around to see a stunning woman, with flowing blonde hair, in a fitted black dress, as she pulled off her damaged shoe.

"It's okay. Do you need any help?" He asked politely.

She smiled softly. "No I'm fine, thanks. I've just been stood up on a date, so just want to go home." The woman spoke with a hint of sadness behind her words.

As she went to put pressure on her now shoeless foot, she crumbled, her ankle in pain.

Before she could fall, Rusty caught her. "You're not fine by the sounds of it. Why don't you sit down and I can get you some ice for your ankle."

Rusty signaled to the bar staff to get ice, as he helped her to his seat.

"You're too kind." In the light of the bar, he could see her eyes look into his, radiating a beautiful shade of green. As she looked back into his, she smiled and moved her hair in front of her face behind her ear.

"I'm Belle, by the way," she added flirtatiously.

It was in that moment, Rusty knew everything would be okay.

#creative writing #short story #shorts #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #rebuild #writing #inspiration #love story

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joestylee · 1 year

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How To Dress For A Kizomba Class

There is a way my daughter lights up when she hears her favorite dance songs. She points to her prettiest swishiest skirt while shrieking, ‘Ballet! Ballet!’ and beckons on me to put it on for her. Then the joy in her eyes when she’s swinging away in it. I know, right? Who doesn’t want to feel like a princess and twirl around the room? And that’s the sweetness of dancing, the ability to escape for a moment into another world where everything is perfect.

How Does Costume Affect Dance?

It’s very easy to see that costumes provide enchantment for dance since a 2 year old already understands that swishy skirts make dancing more fun. If dance is the ability to escape into another world, costumes give this escape realness and fluidity. Costumes have been worn for ages as long as dance itself to portray different characters and as a medium of self-expression. Many dancers were icons of style and enhanced dance through their focus on costume, jewels and fashion. Fashion’s love affair with ballet is well known but there is not much information about how fashion has forged a Kizomba style. So, now to Kizomba what it is and how do you dress for a Kizomba class?

What is Kizomba?

Kizomba is a Kimbundu word meaning ‘party’ and is both a type of music genre and a dance style originating from Angola. It is a slow, romantic dance where the leader guides the follower using his right arm and torso. When Samba dancers from Angola started slowing their dance steps to the tempo of the Kizomba music, Kizomba dance was born.Kizomba is sometimes called the ‘African Tango’. This is mainly due to the Cuban elements in the dance infused from Cuba’s presence in Angola during its civil war.

What is Urban Kiz?

Urban Kiz is a couple dance derived from Kizomba. This is Kizomba that has been influenced by a wealth of styles as a result of the dance being exported to other countries. Urban Kiz can be danced to Ghetto-Zouk, Hip-Hop, R&B and Rap; and Urban Kiz is most likely the type of Kizomba outfit you had your first contact with.

How To Dress For A Kizomba Class?

Since Kizomba is a dance of steps and not many turns, women need something free for the lower body but can be fitted at the upper body. Women can pick from a variety of outfit combinations including tea length dresses or short fit and flare dresses, leotard top and high waist trousers, crop-top and leggings, casual jeans and top, a tunic and leggings, or a stretchy jumpsuit. Not to forget heels. Heels give a certain daintiness to the elegant footwork required of the dance and enhance the sway of the hips.

For men, a nice T-shirt and jeans, or a fitted shirt and pants work well with sport shoes.

Where To Buy Kizomba Dresses or Outfits For Men & Women

As a dance with an African origin, it is good to wear something that is African inspired when going for a Kizomba class. An African inspired short wax skirt paired with a fitted top (shown below) and for men, this tunic (shown below) can be paired with pants or jeans.

Dance is indeed a catalyst for fashion. Fashion designers have often been inspired by the ardent bodies of dancers creating entirely new styles of dress serving as flexible forms of expression. The Tango Visiteor semi-evening gown for example, was a new style of dress created because of the Tango Teas. The Tango Visite was a dress that could be worn on afternoons and yet not be too warm for dancing.

From ballet to tango, fashion has always drawn from dance to produce clothing that allows for beauty of expression. Just like Tango inspired the Tango Visite, I hope Kizomba dance inspires you to take a closer look at African inspired fashion and its intrinsic beauty.

#Dress For A Kizomba Class #Kizomba dance Dress

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stevenbasic · 2 years

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Growing into the Job Post 224: Scenes from a Party, p7

If one were to drift away from the party proper, if one were to step down the hallway which led past the restrooms and to the private lounges, one might pass a doorway left half ajar. One might peek in and see a tall, blonde woman talking with a young, bald man. That’s exactly what Angie Wade, recent hire in the accounting department at what was once Far Horizons Medical Associates, barely registered as she dragged her new employer by the hand past the door. “Hmm I figured,” she could be heard to say as she closed the door, ostensibly to give them more privacy, “that one’s taken…”

….

Dr. J had barely looked her way that whole evening, she thought with consternation. Can’t he see how big I am? Cynthia Carlisle seethed to herself, wincing again at the pain in her feet in these goddamn heels which somehow seemed too small already, I’m the biggest one here, and he hasn’t even noticed!! She was frustrated. She was upset. Even though she usually didn’t drink, she’d had a glass of wine. And then another. She hovered at the edge of the crowd in her new blue dress, squinting. Maybe I should have worn my glasses. Astigmatism. But then she saw him, that guy, AJ, eyeing her, trying not to be noticed. Drifting closer. Saying hi.

He’s one of the construction boys. Used to date that stuck-up new-girl Angie from accounting. I’ve seen him working on some of the vents. He looked at my legs. Cici bit her lower lip, considering. I heard him on Wednesday saying something about needing to be in the building after hours, bragging about having a key. Wheels started turning in Cynthia’s mind. He could be....he could be useful...

He offered to get her another drink. ‘No let’s go find a back room.’ Haha had she actually said that? She’d never been this bold. She didn’t know what to do next but found herself alone with him, in a dimly-lit private lounge, leaning back against a wall among soft chairs and a couple cushioned booths. Someone had just closed the door on them, sealing them in. As if not knowing her own strength, she’d inadvertently tossed a small cocktail table out of the way, making his eyes go wide, making him laugh nervously. She thought she maybe needed to act more coy. He talks a lot.

He told her about the keycard because she had asked.. That little construction foreman, he’d said, a red-head with cute freckles but a stick up her butt, technically his boss, had entrusted him with a keycard to get inside so he could work on the HVAC this weekend. He was obviously very important, smarter and more capable than the other guys, he explained. Did she know that he used to own his own construction company? That’s probably why the redhead had picked him t-

Anyway, that’s when Cici decided she wasn’t going home tonight.

Before she knew it, he was kissing her. It shocked her, a bit. One of the taller guys here, AJ was maybe just about her height...but in her new, white, six-inch leather heels: I’m so much taller than him, she thought with a flush, he’s up on his tiptoes. She could kick off her shoes, or lean down a bit more, make it easier on him but...no. It thrilled her, that he had to strain to reach her kiss. It made her feel tall, powerful, wanted. Let him struggle.

Cici’s heart was racing. It had been - what was it? Three years? - since she’d kissed a boy. And that had been her “boyfriend”, the nephew of the lady who worked with her aunt, the guy who moved away. He was, now that she thinks back on it, a lot like a mole, just as awkward and passive as she had been, back then. More into his anime and his model spaceships than he was into her. Who could have blamed him? Back then, she was short, overweight, meekly shy. But here she was, eight inches taller, with all these new curves, making out with a tall, handsome construction worker. With tattoos. And it felt good. Her heart was beating even faster, now.

As was AJ’s. He’d been with lots of girls before, girls of all types. Recently, he’d been strangely attracted to, uh, dominant women. Angie had fit that bill perfectly, he thought. She was a confident spitfire, a tiger in the sack, had learned how to push these newly submissive buttons of his. But this Cindi girl was something else entirely. Physically, she was like another species, like that brunette friend of Angie’s, Melissa. Look at her: tall, blonde, thick. Strong. It lit fires inside him in places he didn’t know existed, thinking of what she could do to him. What’s wrong with me?? he thought, as he began dissolving into their kiss, Why would he want her to-?

Cyhtnia’s lips were big, they were full, and she could tell that as she became more heated they were almost smothering him, and she was getting excited. Just go with the flow Cici, she thought to herself, relax. He kinda likes how aggressive I’m being. Her tongue had just tentatively ventured into his mouth, at first, but now - after several minutes of kissing - it inhabited, controlled, dominated. Doing whatever it wanted. As she moved it around his she could feel him squirming and it…excited her. This was a new feeling, controlling someone else like this. It made her kiss him a little harder, devouring his face with her lips, push her tongue in deeper. I could make him choke on it, she thought in a lustful whim, acutely feeling her own strength, how it outmatched his, kill him with my tongue. Or I could suck the breath from his lungs. He was weak, meager compared to her and she felt it exciting her deep in her bones. She was, though, still able to control herself and when she finally pulled back to look in his eyes he seemed dazed, light headed.

Wow, I must be an amazing kisser, she thought, watching him struggle, gasping, if the goal is to make someone breathless. Seeing the effect she was having on him, she watched with libidinous interest as his eyes started to refocus. She began to consider what else she could do to this man, AJ, the handsome ex-boyfriend of Melissa’s arrogant friend.

Cynthia placed her hands on AJ’s shoulders, feeling them for strength. They were not broad, but leanly muscled.

“Am I pretty?” she asked, curiously, looking him in the eyes, blinking slowly.

The question surprised him, and though he was eager to answer he struggled to find the right words. “Y-you’re...you’re...omigod so…so big…”

Weird, but it was praise, and it flustered her. Big, yes, haha I know. Though that’s not what I asked. “But…am I pretty?”

His breath rattled in his lungs. He answered. “Y-you’re like a goddess…”

‘Goddess’? Cici thought, half-startled, Haha no one has ever, ever called me that before. Why did he say that? Because her breasts had grown? Because she was now obviously tall? Obviously strong? Because guys these days found that attractive? It was all thrilling, of course, not something she was used to, being the object of adoration of a boy, their haha goddess. But, still...it was not what she asked, she considered, as she squeezed his shoulders a bit, making him wince. She wanted to know...

“AM…I…PRETTY?!?” she asked, surprising herself with the volume of her voice, it’s commanding timbre as she pushed him down by the shoulders, onto his knees.

Oh my god haha.

She had felt some resistance, a little, from him. But she’d pushed right through it, making his legs buckle, his spine bend. He’d complained, a moment, confused - “C-c-Cynthia..?” he asked, as he crumbled - but she’d ignored him, pressing him to the floor.

She must outweigh him by thirty pounds, maybe more.

“Look up at me,” she said, plainly, a new authoritarian tone to her voice making it sound haha like a command. His gaze, in his muddled wonder, had dropped to her feet, looked at her shoes, ankles. But now - told by her to do so - he looked up, up past her breasts in her tight, light blue dress to her face which peered down, with bland interest, at him. It was like he was an oddity, a curiosity.

Suddenly Cynthia lifted her right leg, put her high-heeled foot up onto his left shoulder. AJ was shocked, again, by both the sudden motion and the new weight. “Feel my leg,” she told him. Without hesitation and with both hands he grabbed into and felt her ankle, her shapely calf, how solid with muscle it was, how smooth the skin. She began to grind her foot into his shoulder. She’d never done anything like this before, but somehow she knew exactly what to say next. “Kiss it. Kiss my leg.”

His brows knit for a second, but he did not hesitate. Twisting, craning his neck, he laid his lips on the lower swell of her meaty calf. It was huge. Once, twice he kissed it. A third time.

He looked up at her, still peering down at him.

“Now,” she commanded, “kiss my shoe.”

Oh my god, thought AJ, realizing what he was doing, I'll do it. I’ll do anything this girl says.

He did. Awkwardly twisting his neck even more, he kissed the white leather of the pump on his shoulder. She raised her foot, and - leaning back against the wall for suopoirt - made him kiss the underside of her shoe, its sole, dirty as it was from its evening on the floor.

As he kissed, not drawing back, Cici cocked her head and, still curious, began pressing her foot into his face, and then down onto him. She stood up straight, away back up from the wall Slowly, he was getting pushed down and back, and finally he fell onto the ground, gracelessly toppling onto his side. Her foot remained on his face, but no longer at his mouth. She had the sole of her high-heeled shoe on his temple, on his skull. She watched as he did nothing to right himself, to pull away, or escape. Rather, he lay there, and had groaned.

He likes this.

Watching him on the ground, flailing, writhing, he reminded her of a little bug, a worm. "Bugs get stepped on…" she found herself saying, and it felt right, natural, to extend her leg further, place her foot more firmly on his head and press down. She could crush his skull, she knew, right here. Her six-inch heel, its sharp point, could puncture his neck. Still, he was doing nothing to fight her. He was, she realized, submitting to her, letting her do whatever she wanted to him. She could kill him, in a moment.

Why haha was she thinking this way? Why did she feel this way? This was thrilling, having a man, a full-grown man, at her mercy. Slowly she pressed down more upon him, making him endure the pain and humiliation of being overwhelmed by a woman’s foot. He’d begun to grunt, more rhythmically now, and it was just then that she noticed that his hand had reached down between his legs.

Omigod what is he doing?? she silently gasped, Is he touching his...thingy???

She - poor, chubby, cloddish, socially awkward Cynthia Carlisle - had a man groveling under her sole. Jerking off to the humiliation. Worshipping his goddess. Her ego - a poor, forgotten thing just two months ago but now newly hatched - was swelling by the second.

She kicked off her heel.

“I want to feel how small your head feels under the ball of my foot,” she said, down to the little man writhing below her, pressing her now bare foot roughly into his cheekbone, “feel how easy it would be to break it.”

She had thought, at times, that it was nice to be part of a group, a pack, a hive. But she knew how the other girls looked at her, talked about her behind her back. Maybe she didn’t need them. “When we’re done, you’re going to take me to the office,” she told him, watching him brainlessly pleasure himself under her foot, “That’s where we’ll start to have some real fun…”

It’s going to get impossible to ignore me anymore, Dr. J…

====================================================================

Thanks to CaptainAmbiguous for his help and encouragement on this one.

Check out my Patreon for more GITJ

#growing into the job

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applepi-1 · 2 years

Text

According to you- Kenma

Your boyfriend was on the Nekoma volleyball team, it was a Saturday so he decided to have the team over while you two hung out. You guys began to watch Teen Wolf as you gather amongst yourselves.

“Get up," Jackson told someone that was sitting next to Lydia.

"How come you never ask Danny to get up?" The guy asked, looking at the table.

"Because I don't stare at his girlfriend's coin slot. So I hear they're saying it's some type of animal attack. Probably a cougar." Danny told him.

"I heard mountain lion," Jackson said, taking bites of his food. Stiles was too busy looking up on his phone of who the guy was to be listening to them.

"A cougar is a mountain lion," Lydia said out of nowhere causing us to look at her, then her fake dumb blonde came back. "Isn't it?”

“Ha, reminds me of you babe,” your boyfriend told you making the team look at him.

“How is she like Y/n?” Kuroo asked.

“She’s stupid.” Your gaze fell to the ground, Kuroo furrowed his brows and looked at Kenma.

“Y/n’s actually pretty smart.” You looked at Kenma and smiled softly.

“Thanks.” You mouthed to him before watching tv again. Once the team left it was just you and your boyfriend.

“Babe, can you get me a glass of water?”

“Sure, love.” You walked to the kitchen and opened the top cabinet, grabbing a glass only to it to slip out of your hands and crash to the ground.

“What the hell?!” You jumped looking at him.

“I-It slipped…”

“God, you’re so useless.” Your shoulders fell as he began to clean the mess. “Can’t even do anything right.” You looked at the floor before walking away. You sat on the couch and finished the show, once your boyfriend walked over and sat beside you he sighed. “I’m sorry, okay? Did you hurt yourself?” You shook your head. “How about I make it up to you?” He kissed your neck making you squirm.

“I’m not in the mood, B/n.”

“Why are you being so difficult.” You sighed and stood up. “Where are you going?”

“Kenma’s.”

“Since when are you friends with Kenma?” You looked at him and sighed.

“Since I became manager of the team.” You told him, slipping on your shoes.

“Why are you so hard to please? You’re forever changing your mind.” You sighed and just walked out of the house. You made it to Kenma’s and sighed, knocking on the door softly.

“Y/n?”

“Hey.” You smiled at the pudding-haired boy as he let you in.

“Everything okay?”

“Not really, but I’ll be alright.”

“I’m sorry about B/n, what he said was rude.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You brushed it off. “I’m sorta used to it now,” you laughed a little before sitting on Kenma’s bed. “What you playing?”

“Hm, oh, uh, animal crossing, wanna play?”

“Sure.” You sat on the floor and played the game with Kenma all night, your boyfriend watched his stream, watching how you looked so comfortable with Kenma than him, he watched how you smiled more, and he absolutely hated it.

–

You were getting ready for the party the coach was throwing for the volleyball team when your phone died. You put it on charge and couldn’t decide which dress you wanted to wear. You couldn’t decide on a beautiful black one, or the gorgeous red one that fades to black, skin-tight at the top, and a little loose at the bottom. Your boyfriend would like the black one, but this isn’t just about him, it’s about the team. So you decided to wear the ones that match the boy’s volleyball uniforms. You put your hair into a ponytail and curled it, before sliding on black heels. You put on cute heart-dangly earrings. You grabbed your phone and looked at the time. “Shoot. I’m late.” You grabbed your bag and headed out the door running into Kenma and your boyfriend.

“I knew you weren’t ready yet.” You gave an apologetic smile before locking up your house following them to the place. “I thought you were going to wear the black dress? You know I like that more.” Kenma looked at your dress as your boyfriend spoke.

“Sorry, that’s what took me forever. I was choosing which one I wanted to wear. I decided on this one because it doesn't just support you, but the team too.”

“How does this dress support the team?”

“It’s the team’s uniform colors,” Kenma said looking straight ahead, you smiled to yourself, glad someone got it.

“Exactly.” You said to your boyfriend.

“You should just be supporting me, I’m your boyfriend.”

“If I wasn’t the manager of the team I’d agree. But I am, I have to support them too,” you said as you reached the building. Kenma opened the door for you, “Thanks, Ken.”

“Of course, pudding.” You smiled looking around for the team.

“Y/n!” You looked at Lev and smiled.

“Giant!” He laughed as you made your way to the team, Kenma and your boyfriend following you.

“Hey, kitten, I love the dress.” You looked at Kuroo and laughed.

“Thanks, Rooster head.” Your boyfriend looked at you closely.

“What took you so long, babe?” Your boyfriend glared at Yamamoto.

“Oh, I was choosing between two dresses and decided on this one, do you like it-”

“She can’t show up on time, even if it’d save her life.” Your boyfriend said cutting you off before going to the coach. Your smile fell and you sighed.

“Well. I think you look beautiful.” You looked at Kenma and smiled.

“Thanks, Ken.”

“I do like it, babes.” You smiled at Yama.

“Thanks, love.” You decided to not let your boyfriend bring down your mood. You made jokes with the group, danced with some of them. Just having fun, people complimented your dress, some even stated how they love that you support the team. You were sitting outside with Kuroo looking up at the stars with a soft smile on your face.

“You know, kitten, your boyfriend’s an ass. If he wasn’t a good player, we’d kick him off the team.” You looked at him before looking inside at your boyfriend talking to some other girl, then your gaze fell on Kenma, awkwardly dancing with an old woman. You chuckled a bit making Kuro follow your gaze. “You also know, Kitten.” You looked at him again, “Kenma can’t get you out of his head.” Your eyes widen before looking at the boy dancing.

“I… that’s not funny, Rooster head.” You turned around leaning over the balcony.

“I’m not lying, Y/n. To him, you’re funny, irresistible, everything he wants.” You looked at the ground.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because with Kenma… it’s the opposite of your boyfriend.” you sighed before looking at Kenma struggling. “You should probably go save him.”

“Yeah… I’ll, uh, think about what you said. See you later Rooster head.” He saluted you watching you leave. Your boyfriend watches you leave Kuoro and make your way to Kenma, he furred his brows as you talked to the old woman he was dancing with.

“You are incredible,” Kenma said as the lady left and you took her place. “I owe you one.” You smiled and put your arms around his shoulders as he placed his hands on your waist. You rested your head on his shoulder as you guys swayed. “So much simpler than what she was trying to do.” You laughed nuzzling into him more. Once the song was over your feet were hurting, you and Kenma made your way over to the group. You were laughing at stupid jokes as you did so, “you are funny.” You stopped moving to look at him, “What?” To him, you’re funny…

“Nothing, it’s just, B/n thinks I suck at telling jokes, because I give it away.” You told him.

“Well, to me, you’re funny.” You smiled again as y’all reached the group.

“Hey, babe, wanna dance?”

“My feet hurt, give me a few and I can.” You told him softly.

“I accidentally stepped on her foot,” Kenma admitted making the guys laugh at him as you placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I told you it was fine, Ken.” He gave you a soft smile before looking at your boyfriend.

“Don’t be boring, it’ll be fun.”

“B/n, my feet really hurt. All I’ve been doing is dancing, can I please have a break?” The team watched the couple carefully.

“Yeah, you’ve been dancing with them and not me.”

“Because you never asked.” You told him, leaning into Kenma for support.

“No need to be moody, I’ll just find someone else to dance with.” You rolled your eyes as he walked away. Kenma leads you to a table setting you down.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, my feet just hurt.” You both laugh as he sat down. Kuroo and the group joined the table.

“So… was kenma a better dancer than me?” You looked at Kuroo and then Kenma.

“Yep.”

“Ouch.” Kuroo faked being hurt as the group laughed. You were laughing a bit loud, but the group didn’t mind. “I love that we make you laugh.” Your laughter dialed down as you wiped tears.

“I’m glad you guys do too.” Kenma rubbed your shoulder making you smile at him. Once the party was over the group and your boyfriend walked you home since you live the closest. You guys were making jokes and doing stupid stuff. You ended up chasing Kuroo around, Kenma held your shoes for you.

“Rooster head, get back here!” Everyone laughed at you two except your boyfriend. You gave up on chasing him since he’s taller than you, his legs give him an advantage. You kept your shoes off though. You and Kenma fell behind a bit as your boyfriend joked with the guys.

"So, tonight was fun." you looked at Kenma and smiled.

"It was, I had fun." You had your heels in your hand now, walking on your tippy-toes trying to walk straight on a crack in the ground. You spun around on one foot before balancing yourself again. "You know, you should wear a suit more, it suits you."

"How so?" You turned around looking at him, walking backward as you smile.

"Because you look handsome." You turned back around on your right foot, reaching out each arm like a plane, tilting them as if you were losing balance.

"Your feet aren't hurting?" You shrugged your shoulders.

"Not really, my brother and I use to run down the roads barefoot." You heard him laugh from behind you. Your eyes widen when Kenma suddenly pulled you back, turning you around in the process. "Um... Ken?"

"You were about to step on glass." You looked down and saw your feet hovering over the ground, glass beneath it. You lifted your feet up more as Kenma walked around it.

"Well, I guess that makes you my hero." You giggled as he put you down.

"I guess, you okay?" You looked at him, damn he's so close. You felt your breathing become short, and your heartbeat got faster. "Y/n?" You opened your mouth to speak, but you closed it. God, he looks so handsome, his jacket unbutton, his shirt a little unbuttoned, his hair is a little messy, and his eyes yellow as ever. "Pudding?" you smiled and shook your head. "You're not?"

"No... I'm fine, sorry, just..”

“Are you guys coming? Woah, what’s going on here?” You both turned around and looked at Kuroo who was smirking. Then your gaze fell on your boyfriend and you pulled away from Kenma.

“She almost stepped on glass,” Kenma told them.

“I can’t take you anywhere.” You sighed and looked at Kenma.

“Sorry.” You looked and saw your building. “Well thanks for the walk, um, thanks Kenma for saving my feet.” You both laughed before you walked away. Your boyfriend followed waving bye to the group.

“You have the worst attention span I ever saw.” You looked at him weirdly.

“What do you mean?”

“Seriously? You were so easily distracted back there, almost stepped on glass.”

“I’m sorry okay? I got lost in the conversation.”

“And if Kenma wasn’t there, you would be bleeding. You’re useless-” You raised your hand, cutting your boyfriend off with a slap to the face.

“I am not useless, why can’t you see me through Kenma’s eyes? You are a horrible boyfriend. We’re over, B/n.” you opened your door slammed it behind you. Locking it up, you walked to your bedroom and sighed, your mind went to what Kuroo told you. “Kenma can’t get you out of his head.”

“I… that’s not funny, Rooster head.”

“I’m not lying, Y/n. To him, you’re funny, irresistible, everything he wants.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because with Kenma… it’s the opposite of your boyfriend.”

You looked at yourself in the mirror before changing into some shorts and a hoodie, you slipped on more comfortable shoes before running out your door. You ran all the way there, banging on his door.

“I.. what are you doing here?”

“Please tell me I’m not reading this wrong.” Kenma furrowed his brows.

“Reading what wrong?”

“Us.” Kenma’s eyes widen, his entire body froze.

“I… I…”

“Ken, tell me I’m not reading this wrong…” You plead, looking him in the eyes, Kenma's shoulders dropped, giving into the puppy dog eyes.

“You’re not. I can’t get you out of my head, Y/n, and it’s just... You’re everything I’ve wanted and you're with this guy who treats you so badly and I-” You wrapped your arms around Kenma crashing your lips to his. Cutting the boy off, his eyes widen before he melted to your touch, kissing you back just as passionately.

Once you pulled away, you spoke, “I broke up with B/n…” Kenma looked at you with a smile. “Because I want to be with you, Ken… with you it’s the opposite.” He smiled more before kissing you again.

–

When practice came around you and Kenma were super close, and everyone pretty much guessed what happened.

“Hey, Kitten.” You looked at Kuroo, as he approached you two.

“Hi, rooster head. What’s up?”

“Took my advice I see.” You laughed nodding your head.

“Thanks, Kuroo. I owe you one.” You said smiling at the boy.

“Owe him one? Advice? What am I missing?”

“Oh, I told Kitten she should go for you. Seeing you two pind over each other was just hurting my eyes. I knocked some sence into her too.” You rolled your eyes hitting the boy.

“I should’ve saw this coming.” You turned around and saw your ex, he looked at you then Kenma.

“Hm, should’ve.” Kenma said holding your hand.

“So, you left me for Kenma? Really?”

“Yes, I did. Because according to you, I’m stuipd, I’m useless, I can’t do anything right. I’m also difficult, hard to please. Always forever changing my mind. I was a mess in a dress because I rushed so I could be perfect for you, but no I couldn’t show up on time, even if it’d save my life.” Your ex rolled his eyes as Kenma squeezed your hands. “But, according to him, I’m beautiful, incredible, he can’t get me out of his head. I’m funny, irresistible, everything he’s ever wanted, everything is opposite, he’s into me for everything i’m not according to you. I need to feel appreciated, loved, not hated. To bad you made me decide.” You bumped your shoulder with his as you and Kenma walked away.

“You okay, Pudding?”

“Oh, I’m fine, Ken.” He kissed your head before kissing you in front of everyone.

#haikyuu #fluff #cute haikyuu #angst #confessions #according to you #kenma x you

33 notes · View notes

frenchbreads-writing · 3 years

Text

Down Boy|{Bakugou Katsuki}

I typed a quick something while I work on your requests

I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Male reader

Words: 913

Warning(s): None

Requests: Open

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bakugou has been in a shitty mood all day. More so than usual and it’s affecting the others in the class.

He stomped into class with a deep scowl on his face and glaring at the air in front of him as he made his way to his seat.

Kirishima tried to greet him but he just bumped shoulders with him and told him to fuck off.

And when Iida tried to scold him for it he just flipped him off.

No one even knew why he was angry, they all just tried to stay out of his way.

You simply gave him a sideways glance and a scoff.

During class he wasn’t that bad it was the downtime between classes that annoyed you the most.

He started arguments with your classmates for stupid reasons and picked fights with people in the hallway on the way to the cafeteria.

His friends practically had to drag him away from Monoma when he lunged at the 1-B student for making a joke about how we ‘need to keep class 1-A’s puppy on a short leash’.

During hero training was where you began to reach your limit.

You were doing hostage training and you were paired with the ashy blonde.

You had to rescue the training dummies from another pair of classmates. And you would’ve been able to.

Except Bakugou ignored your plan and rushed in without you. He managed to get himself and you caught making the both of you fail the challenge.

After that saying you were annoyed was being nice.

Everyone was in the locker rooms chatting and changing.

You had just finished putting your clothes on and we’re going to put your shoes on when Bakugou began another yelling session with Kirishima.

“Shut the hell up shitty hair, the only reason I lost was because of my shitty teammate!”

That was the last straw.

You jumped up from the bench you were sitting on and approached Bakugou from behind.

You grabbed his shoulder and spun him around then used your other hand to shove him against the locker.

“Hey what the-“

Gripping the front of his shirt with one hand and slammed your other hand onto the locker next to his head the loud metallic bang made all of the talking stop and all eyes were on you.

You looked him in the eyes with a glare.

“Can you shut the fuck up already?”

Everyone gasped, you were usually kind to everyone and hardly ever cursed so hearing you say it like that to him was surprising.

You leaned in close to his face.

“I’m sick of hearing your voice today so do us a favor a be quiet, puppy.”

You released his shirt from your grasp and pushed off of the locker.

You spared him one final glance and walked away, picking up your shoes and walking out of the locker room barefoot, shoes in one hand and hero suit in the other.

Everyone watched in silence and looked at Bakugou who was strangely quiet.

They saw him blushing and staring straight ahead.

Until he noticed everyone staring at him.

“What the hell are you staring at extras!”

They jumped and continued getting dressed except Kirishima who looked at him with a knowing smirk.

He growled and turned around facing the lockers, his heart thumping loudly in his chest.

Glancing up he noticed that there was a dent where your hand slammed into the locker and he gulped.

After your outburst, Bakugou was still very quiet for the rest of the day.

The only time he made more than a grunt or growl was when his friends were teasing him for what happened in the locker room.

But at the end of the day when Bakugou was walking back to the dorms when you called out to him from behind.

He paused and turned around to see you rushing over to him.

“Hey, Bakugou.”

“What the hell do you want?”

You rubbed the back of your neck.

“I just wanted to say sorry about what I said to you in the locker room that was pretty rude and uncalled for.”

He stared at you for a moment.

“S’ fine.”

You smiled

“I’m glad you’re not mad.”

“Whatever.”

He said as he spun on his heel.

“Actually Bakugou, Kirishima told me something interesting earlier when class ended and I just wanted to see if he was right.”

He paused and turned around.

“What?”

In the blink of an eye, you had his back against the wall, hands placed on both sides of his head, and mouth right next to his ear.

He was frozen and his neck up to the tips of his ears were bright red.

“You like it when I do this, huh, puppy?”

Your voice lowering in his ear when you called him that made him shiver.

“I-I don’t you i-idiot!”

You chuckled and placed a light kiss on his cheek, lips barely grazing the skin and he gasped.

“That’s all I needed to know.”

You pulled away and gave him a smirk.

“I’ll see you later Bakugou.”

He watched as you walked away.

He placed a hand over his chest feeling his face burn and heart beating a mile a minute.

Taking a deep breath Bakugou pushed off of the wall and he walked back to the dorms in a daze. Thoughts still lingering on the feeling of your lips on his cheek.

‘What the hell just happened?’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

{Tag list}

@lotsofrandom @your-strangelove @yumeneji @nahtoolazy @dumbass-calamari @naonaocat <- anyone not properly tagged sorry but I wasn’t able to tag you!

If you want to be added to the tag list, send an ask or look at my pinned post!

890 notes · View notes

multiplefandomsblog · 3 years

Text

Byakuya x inexperienced!reader pt.2(NSFW)

request; hi !! so to whoever wrote the Byakuya x inexperienced! reader um i-i ilysm TOT would it be alright to ask for a part 2 of it, maybe reader has more experience and is ready for whatever 'mAstEr' Byakuya has in store?? (and maybe m a y b e Byakuya loses control of himself bc his innocent reader has finally been corrupted— OKAY THANK YOU BYE

warnings; so muCH CORRUPTION KINK!!!, pet play, master kink, dom!Byakuya, begging, Byakuya neglects reader a tad, s&m, reader is kind of a brat(just a littttleeee bit), sex toys/vibrators, bondage(handcuffs), overstim, forced orgasm?, unedited, slight dumbification, reader has female parts and uses female pronouns and names, slight praise kink, manhandling, humiliation, begging, dacryphillia, light dark themes(lmfao) there’s like, no fluff at all.

note; phew! okay this one, im kinda kinda proud of- i even put together a small byakuya playlist to get into the mood hehehe, it surprisingly helped a lot! i got into the byakuya mind space zone :0 anyway, thank you sm for requesting and i hope you enjoy!

(also p.s. this is a second part to this so you don’t have to read that first, but it’d help? kinda? idk your choice broskis ;0)

word count; 1.4k

•••••••

“Master.”

Byakuya’s shoulders tensed, fingers almost tearing the pages of his book as he heard your voice, seductive behind him. His eyebrow quirked up at the tone of your voice, a small barely noticeable smirk adorning his face. He could hear the neediness, seductiveness, submission from just the title you uttered out. Instead of moving his head behind him, he decided not to let his eagerness to look at your show. So instead, he pretended to keep reading his book, faking disinterest. Even though he heard the way you spoke, heard the way you spoke so needy for him, wasn’t enough for his insatiable hunger.

So he decided he would tease you until you were sobbing for him, begging for him. You weren’t going to get what you want until Byakuya does first. Ah, the look of desperation on your face he still had engraved in his mind, he could feel his pants tighten slightly.

Pouting at his unresponsiveness, you swiftly made your way to the back of his chair, caressing your hand lightly against his shoulder. “Master, look at me.” You persisted, bending down to lean your chin on his shoulder, face next to his as you folding your abdomen over the shirt you were wearing. To clarify, his shirt, and just his shirt. He could recognize the white cotton material, and as much as he wanted a peek, his need to see you on your knees for him was much bigger.

Instead of letting you see his eyes, his eyes full of lust and want, he focused them onto the page, glazing over the words, yet not quite registering them in his mind as you preoccupied it. “M-master why aren’t you…” You trailed off, gulping as the realization of what he wanted—or at least thought he wanted— dawned on you. Slowly getting on your knees, you sat on your heels in front of him, head bowed down to look at his shoes. “Is this what you wanted?” You peaked up to try and take a quick look at his face, a low whine rumbling in your throat as you saw Byakuya flip another page.

“I-I’ll act like a dog for you..! R-ruff ruff! I-is this enough? P-please..! I don’t like it when y-you ignore me…” You huffed quietly underneath your breath, feeling little shame for the act you had just performed in front of your heir. Though you were upset Byakuya hadn’t even spared a glance to you, you would be lying if you said you didn’t love the humiliation; your panties had been soaked the moment Byakuya decided not to talk nor pay attention to you.

“Master please, I n-need you.” he didn’t even need to say anything, and yet here you are, sitting on your knees and barking for him; convinced that this is what he wanted, not what you secretly needed. He wanted to laugh, he made you like this. He made you so corrupted, and he felt disgustingly proud of that fact. “Hm.” Deciding to throw you a bone, he closed his book and fixed his eyes on you, “You’re a good pup for me, no?”

He reached down to tap your chin. Getting a bit eager, you rose up, straightening your thighs so they were vertical. Grabbing eagerly onto his thighs, you leaned your head into his touch, looking at him with an adoration that seemed impure. “Y-yes! Yes, I’m a good puppy. I’m such a good pup for you, only you!” Your doe eyes stared up at him loyally, making him growl underneath his breath.

“Look at you, you weren’t even able to take it last time, and yet you’re still coming back to me for more? Will you even be able to handle what I’ll give you?” You opened your mouth to say you could in protest, yet Byakuya cruelly interrupted, “After last time? You could barely handle it.” There was a snarl painted across his cold face, and yet it only seemed to make you wetter.

Even if he seemed like he was mocking you, you could still hear the softness in his voice as he trailed off. You detected his worry, and so you did your best to show him you could handle it. Your voice wavered, but you stood your ground, clutching whatever was left of your confidence tightly, “I’m not the same as before, master.” Not only did you Byakuya with your newfound confidence, but you surprised yourself as well.

You didn’t even recognize your voice, but you didn’t care, it seemed to be working. Leaning and hovering over Byakuya’s slightly stunned figure, you challenged, “I’d be more worried if you could handle me.” Your hands gripped Byakuya’s knees as you used them to support your body that had been arched against him. Byakuya’s stunned expression only lasted so long as his face twisted into a snarl, before kissing you roughly, teeth clashing against his.

As he kissed you, he could feel your hands slipping slowly down the valley of his thighs, and so, he pulled away suddenly and leaned down, perching your stomach on his shoulder. Confused, you let out a “Mast-?”, before he stood up, your body being hurled up along with him as he walked with ease.

Dropping your body on the mattress, Byakuya quickly searched his table for the handcuffs, sighing satisfied as he found them. Smiling widely, you held your wrists out for him, slightly startling but pleasing Byakuya. In a rare moment, he snorted, “Good girl. ...Though, you’ll soon regret that.“ Standing up from the bed after he tied you to the headboard, he searched his drawers once again, bringing out something pink this time.

Glancing side ways to see your terrified face, “Remember this?” Your eyes widened at the familiar toy he fiddled within his hand, your heart beating erratically fast. “You still think you can take it?” He hunched over your body, one hand supporting his body, and one hand holding the toy scarily close to your glistening cunt.

Waiting patiently, he watched your expression, searching for any type of hesitation, yet finding.. none?

Snarling at your persistent face, he tried teasing you, to scare you to say no, “We never got to see what this did, did we now?” He said through gritted teeth, testing you by pressing it against your hole, making your legs widen slightly from contact. He looked at you in disbelief, “You’re not even- Wow, you… you really are my little slut, aren’t you?” His smile, villain-like. Beaming up at him, you inhaled sharply in relief as he finally understood, “Uhuh! Ye-ssss!” Your jaw dropped, eyes rolling back in your head as you arched your back into the vibrations that Byakuya had turned on suddenly.

“M-master, it feels really good..!” You felt like your brain was scattered, fuzzy as you lost yourself. What was your name again? Pet? It didn’t matter anyway, as your legs shook from your first orgasm. Feeling Byakuya press the toy harder against your clit, you arched your back on instinct, wailing out pleas. “Gonna cream, s-second timeee!” You whined, breathing sounding more like wheezing as your chest heaved from the overstimulation. Your drool trailing down your open mouth, and getting on his once clean dress shirt you wore.

Your eyes scrambled back up to look at your master, wanting to see his eyes you adored so much. Gasping and frantically looking around as you didn’t see him, “M-ma-!” You squirmed against the toy, panting for air as you felt it rub against your clit slightly. “Right here, baby.”

Your face whipped towards the sound of his voice, eyes focused on him, though your vision was slightly blurred from the tears of pleasure and possibly desperation. Your gaze was intense, unblinking, yet the rest of your face was a fucked out mess, your body twitching and writhing without control as you still kept your eyes on him.

“Hhnng!” You didn’t want to take your eyes off him, but you couldn’t help it as your third orgasm came up, forcing you to scream into his pillows. “M-m-!” You sobbed out, unable to speak his name as moans and cries overlapped it. He could see your body twitch from the toy, squirming away from it as the oversensitivity eventually got to you.

He swiftly got to action, yanking your twitching legs wide apart, pushing the toy deep inside your pussy instead of your clit. He sighed shakily as he saw how easy the toy slipped in, your screams sounding like music to his ears. He could feel you squirming against his iron-tight grip on your ankles. “You said you could take anything. Am I wrong? So take it.” The sound of his voice scared you in all honesty, but you couldn’t seem to even focus your attention onto how dangerous he sounded, as you fell into yet another orgasm.

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joestylee · 1 year

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How To Dress For A Kizomba Class

How Does Costume Affect Dance?

What is Kizomba?

Kizomba is a Kimbundu word meaning ‘party’ and is both a type of music genre and a dance style originating from Angola.It is a slow, romantic dance where the leader guides the follower using his right arm and torso. When Samba dancers from Angola started slowing their dance steps to the tempo of the Kizomba music, Kizomba dance was born.Kizomba is sometimes called the ‘African Tango’. This is mainly due to the Cuban elements in the dance infused from Cuba’s presence in Angola during its civil war.

What is Urban Kiz?

How To Dress For A Kizomba Class?

For men, a nice T-shirt and jeans, or a fitted shirt and pants work well with sport shoes.

Where To Buy Kizomba Dresses or Outfits For Men & Women

#kizomba outfit #hoodie with matching pants #flare skirt mini #vintage poncho

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

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no grave can hold my body down – 2/2

Character: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: It took time to get Jason Todd away from the darkness. Sometimes it felt like he was always standing at a tipping point, at risk of completely losing himself. But not when he was with her. She made him better and she would continue to make him better.

Word Count: 9,000

A/N: I know there are a lot of contradicting opinions on Jason Todd’s height. But for my own wish fulfillment, he is 6′3/6′4ish in this fic.

Part 1

Y/N had fallen asleep after getting home from work. She had a long day and was so exhausted that she passed out as soon as she sat down on the couch. Jason had to take off her heels and drape a blanket over her.

Now he was dressed in his armored undershirt, cargo pants, leather jacket, and tactical boots. His red helmet was tucked under his arm, but he was already wearing a domino mask. If Bruce had taught him anything, it was to be prepared to a point of paranoia.

He crouched down to his knees.

Ever so gently, he brushed Y/N’s cheek.

“Y/N,” he whispered.

She stirred and winced a bit when she opened her eyes, the glare of the quiet television was suddenly harsh.

“What’s going on?” She asked, still half asleep.

“Nothing. Go back to sleep. I just wanted to tell you I’m leaving to go on patrol.”

“Mhmm. OK.” She hummed. “Be careful, J.”

If Y/N ever found out how un-careful the Red Hood was, she would never sleep and she’d probably beg Jason to quit his vigilantism.

“I love you,” he told her before kissing her on the forehead.

“Love you, too,” she said back so dreamily that it sounded like she was talking in her sleep.

Jason slipped out of the window. He purposely chose this apartment due to the direction the windows faced, the distance from approximate apartments, and the darkness that would prevent any wandering eyes from the neighbors.

He’d been patrolling for a few hours. It was oddly a quiet night. He assumed it had to do with how cold it was outside. Sometimes criminals were weak in the most obvious ways.

Jason was standing on a rooftop, taking a breather when he felt someone drop behind him. He knew his family all too well and could differentiate all of their footsteps. Which was why he didn’t immediately shoot Dick when he thought he’d try and surprise him.

“So, Y/N was quite the hit…” Dick said without giving Jason a proper greeting first.

“What are you still doing in town?” Jason answered.

Dick sighed. “B still needs a little help on the case.”

Jason nodded, not actually caring why Dick was still in Gotham.

Then an awkward silence washed over them. Well, Dick thought it was awkward. Jason couldn’t care less.

“Why won’t you talk about her with us?” Dick’s teasing was gone and his tone serious now.

Jason turned his head away from the city view and finally acknowledged his brother. “You don’t need to know anything about her,” his helmet distorted his words to make them sound even harsher than they already were.

“Doesn’t seem like she completely shares that view.”

Jason didn’t respond. He didn’t appreciate Dick speaking on Y/N’s behalf.

“Bruce seems to like her,” Dick added.

Jason’s head snapped to him. “As if I give a fuck,” he snapped.

Dick had the audacity to laugh. “How did the two of you meet anyway? She was living in New York City when the two of you first met, right?”

“Jesus,” Jason growled. “Did all of you run a background check on her?”

Dick shrugged. “What did you expect?”

————

Y/N didn’t have any idea where she was going. With the sun having already set, she couldn’t even figure out what direction she was headed.

But she had typed the address to her hotel into the Uber app and trusted it from there. She was also too preoccupied still answering the dozens of work emails on her phone.

“Hey lady, we’re here,” the driver said rudely after she didn’t realize they had stopped.

“Oh, sorry!” She said, writing the last few words of a sentence before pressing send.

She jumped out of the car and yelled a thanks before slamming the door shut.

To her surprise, the car raced off without a second’s hesitation.

But when Y/N turned around, she realized she was definitely not in the right place. And for the first time throughout the drive, she realized she was definitely in a bad area.

Y/N heard all of the terrible things about Gotham. Sometimes she wondered if the things about all of the crime were exaggerated by the news or if the city was really rotting from the inside like everyone said. What she definitely didn’t believe in was all the vigilantes that seemed to be protecting the city. No one could ever offer up any proof, even with every single human having a video camera in their hands at all times.

But now she wishing she’d taken people’s warnings a little bit more seriously.

This was definitely not Gotham Heights, where her nice hotel was located.

“Fuck,” she muttered as she whipped out her phone and instantly tried to call another Uber. But the app was being finicky and she was getting a loading screen for far too long.

Then she heard a group of men whistle at her. The streets were filled with literal dumpster fires. There were countless inoperable cars with broken windshields and without wheels. The only women she spotted looked like they were working the streets.

‘Walk, Y/N. Just walk. Act like you know where you’re going.’ Her brain was screaming at her.

So she did while remaining on high alert.

No matter how much she pretended to blend in, she was obviously out of place and sticking out like a sore thumb.

Her heart was racing and she tried to walk as fast as she could without fully running. She just hoped to get to a main street soon and try to catch a yellow cab, since apparently all her car-service apps decided not to work.

But suddenly, a man stepped onto the sidewalk, blocking Y/N’s path forward.

“You lost, sweetheart?” He cooed.

Y/N stopped and started backing away. But when she turned around, she saw that two men were waiting behind her.

“No need to be scared,” the same men said behind her, closer this time. “We just want to talk.”

‘Fuck this,’ Y/N thought before she decided to make a run for it.

But one of them grabbed her and shoved her to the side, pushing her into the alleyway she hadn’t realized they were right next to.

It was so dark that she could hardly make out the silhouettes of her attackers. But that wasn’t going to stop her from fighting. She immediately tried to shove past anyone in her vicinity and hit whoever was grabbing her.

“Get the fuck away from me!” She screamed, hoping that there was someone in this poisoned city that would try and help her.

Except she was outnumbered by three men, which ended in her getting shoved up the brick wall that lined the alley.

“I don’t have any money,” she gasped as a last ditch effort to save herself.

“Who said we wanted your money?” One of them chuckled darkly.

Before their words could hearten Y/N to try another defensive attack and escape, there was a strange zipping sound that echoed down into the alley.

Next thing Y/N knew, the man that was pressed up against her and pinning her to wall was flung off.

Y/N gasped and tried to get her eyes to adjust to the darkness enough so she could actually see what the hell was happening.

“It’s the hood!” One of the men yelled to his friends before making a run for it.

Then a gun was fired off – two shots.

Y/N yelped at the noise and covered her ears.

But when she looked back up, the man who had tried to escape was now on the ground, screaming in pain as he looked down at both of his knee caps that had been shot.

When Y/N turned her attention to the other two men, she finally saw who had interrupted their assault.

It was a man – if that was even what he was – dressed in military gear of some sort. But what really caught her attention was the red helmet that was reflecting the night light and allowing her to actually follow what was happening.

Y/N watched as he punched the daylights out of one of her attackers. She saw the man’s face get more and more covered with blood with each punch.

If Y/N was scared before, she was now terrified.

Without hesitating any longer, she too made a run for it, hoping she wouldn’t be shot like the other runaway.

She sprinted around the corner. But she only got a few yards before the same behemoth landed in front of her.

He was tall, and had to be at least 6’3. Men were confusingly short in New York, so Y/N was still trying to wrap her mind around having to tilt her head slightly up. But then she realized it wasn’t even his height that was jarring; it was how utterly hulking he was. His shoulders were so wide and his chest was massive. His thighs seemed to be the same width has her entire torso.

Everything about him was intimidating and imposing.

“I gotta give you credit for being that fast while wearing heels,” he said to her as he glanced down at her shoes.

It wasn’t exactly comforting that his voice seemed to also be distorted by the helmet.

Y/N was frozen in fear, truly not knowing what he was capable of or even what he wanted.

“You can relax. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he told her with his hands raised. His guns were no longer in his grip, but in their holsters at his thighs.

“You just killed three men,” Y/N told him with a shaky voice as she took a step back.

“I didn’t kill them. But if you want me to, I’d be happy to go back there and finish the job.”

“What? No!” Y/N cried out.

He had the audacity to chuckle at her reaction.

“Where exactly did you think you were going?” He asked her.

“This whole damsel-in-distress thing is new for me. But I thought it made sense to run away from the guy who was shooting people,” she told him quickly.

Jason was grateful that his mask hid all his emotions and facial expressions, because he was smiling at her sass.

He looked her up and down, taking in her outfit and just her overall look. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“What gave me away?”

He shrugged, ignoring the question. “What the hell are you doing in The Bowery? This is the most dangerous neighborhood in Gotham.”

“My Uber dropped me off here. I thought I was at my hotel and by the time I figured out I wasn’t, my driver had already sped away and left me for dead.”

He took a step toward her. “What’s a gal like you doing in Gotham?”

“I work for an art gallery in New York. But there was an event that I had to attend. I’ve been here all weekend.”

Why was she telling him any of this?

Jason nodded in understanding. “Come on,” he told her.

“W-What?” She asked nervously.

“You’re not gonna get a car in this area. You should report the driver who brought you here in the first place. He knew better.”

He walked past her.

Y/N looked around her, trying to figure out if she even had any other option. She knew he was right about a car, which was probably why she’d gotten a loading screen for all of them when it realized her location.

Yes, he was technically a masked criminal. But he did just save her life, no matter how terrifying it was to watch.

Y/N decided she didn’t have much of a choice.

Before she could move, a motorcycle was being pulled up alongside her.

Y/N eyed it for a moment.

“What’s your name?” She asked him, as if it would make the situation any safer.

“Red Hood,” he told her.

Y/N nodded, not surprised that it didn’t make her feel any better. She realized she was in no position to ask for his real identity. She knew enough about vigilantes to understand that they only survived from hiding their true selves from the criminals they fought and the law enforcement who thought what they were doing was wrong.

“Where are you staying?” He asked her.

“Crest Hill Hotel,” she told him.

“Fancy,” he teased. “Hop on.”

Y/N hesitated before following his instructions. She sat awkwardly on the back of the motorcycle, unsure of what to do.

“You’re gonna want to hold on, beautiful.” He told her over his shoulder as he revved the engine.

Y/N tried to ignore the heat that rushed to her face as he called her ‘beautiful,’ and then she tried to ignore how wide and strong his torso felt as she reached to hold on.

It took 20 minutes to get to her hotel, proving that the Uber driver really hadn’t given a crap about how incorrect her original address had been.

Jason had decided to drop her off in the back entrance to avoid a scene of the infamous Red Hood dropping off an average citizen. He didn’t need that type of attention and Y/N shouldn’t be tied to him in any way.

Y/N got off the motorcycle with a surprising grace and turned to him.

“Thank you for…saving me,” she told him gently.

“It was nothing,” he told her.

Y/N just watched him for a moment, wondering what he looked like under that red helmet and without all the armor.

“What’s your name?” He surprised her by asking.

“Y/N. Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

She didn’t know why she felt comfortable giving her surname. But it just came out.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Though, I wish it had been under better circumstances.”

Y/N suddenly dug into her purse, making sure she still had her phone and even just the key to her hotel room.

“Fuck,” she muttered without realizing it.

“What is it?” Jason asked.

“Nothing. I just…it sounds stupid, but I have a little notebook to write down ideas for – well, for my artwork. But it must’ve fallen out back in that alleyway when those guys shoved me against the wall.”

When she looked up at him, it was impossible to know what he was thinking.

“Anyways, thank you again.” She turned to finally walk away.

“Y/N?”

She shouldn’t love how much she loved the sound of him saying her name.

Y/N turned around.

“Stay close to the hotel. Gotham is different than New York City.”

She nodded.

————————

“So, when did you see her again?” Dick questioned after he listened to Jason’s retelling.

“I was helping out a friend with a job in NYC. Things got ugly. I may or may not have been shot when I showed up at her window. Her apartment was in the area and I needed a place to lay low.”

Dick laughed. “Uh huh. Sure you did.”

Jason ignored him. “Anyways, I’d gone back to the alley that night and found that notebook she was talking about, and gave it to her to make up for bleeding all over her couch.”

“Always the romantic,” Dick teased.

Their conversation came to a halt. Instead of talking, they both listened to the city noises that Gotham brought.

“Listen, Jason, I know I did a poor job of being there for you and actually acting like a brother. And I also know you haven’t always been my biggest fan.”

Jason stayed quiet.

“But you deserve to be happy. And we both know Y/N does that.” Dick sighed. “But you don’t talk about her with us and you kept her from even just meeting us after years of you two dating. If we weren’t all noisy and paranoid, we wouldn’t know a thing about her.”

“What’s your point, Dick?” Jason asked roughly.

“No one ever wants to acknowledge this, especially you…but you’re more like Bruce than any of us. And you’ve seen how he pushes people away, keeping them at a distance. Y/N wants to be a part of your life, your whole life. And that includes all of us – whether you like it or not. So, what I’m saying is you don’t have to hide her from us.”

Dick knew not to expect a response from Jason. So he left him where he found him and gave him his space once again.

Jason didn’t have anything to say anyway.

Dick’s words made him angry more than anything. Because he knew they were true. Yes, he saw how Bruce behaved with women. It was promiscuous and casual, because anything else was too close for comfort. Bruce’s priority would always be Batman. And Bruce knew that no significant other deserved his lack of commitment – no matter how much they might love each other.

—————

Y/N was doing her nightly routine and applying moisturizer to her face when she heard it. She could be acting paranoid, but her instincts were telling her something was off.

No, someone was here.

Jason made a point of being loud and immediately announcing when he got home as to not scare her. So, it couldn’t be him.

As quietly as possible, Y/N tiptoed out of the bathroom and to her side of the bed where she kept a titanium baseball bat. Jason had offered her multiple times to teach her how to shoot a gun. But Y/N wanted nothing to do with them.

With the bat in hand, Y/N snuck her way to the living room where she heard the sound.

She had turned off all the lights, making it hard for her to see clearly.

But she did see a large mass standing in the middle of her living room. With just a bit of hesitation, Y/N swung the bat. But the intruder caught the bat, stopping her attack.

They stepped into the moonlight, finally allowing Y/N to see that it was Batman in his full uniform, cowl still on.

“What the fuck. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Y/N snapped at him.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Bruce defended.

But Y/N was still irritated. “Jason isn’t here.”

“I know. I came to talk to you.”

She froze. “Me?”

“I need a favor.”

Y/N narrowed her gaze. “I highly doubt I could do anything to help you.”

“You’re wrong. This has to do with your job. You work at The Drago House.”

Y/N tilted her head and crossed her arms. “Yes.”

“It’s owned by the Ibanescu family. They use it as a front for human trafficking.”

Y/N shook her head. “That can’t be possible…”

“Don’t underestimate the crime families of Gotham, Y/N.”

“So, why do you need me?”

“There are files and codecs that would decipher who their buyers are and where they hold auctions around the world. Nothings digital. They’re old school. With that information, we could shut done their operation forever.”

Y/N’s face was serious now. “What do you need me to do?”

“You have always had access to all the information. You just never knew it. All I need is for you to scan the files.”

She now looked at him suspiciously. “Don’t they say you're the world’s greatest detective? I find it hard to believe that you’d have problems breaking into the gallery after hours to get them for yourself…”

“It’s only completely lockdown as soon as it closes every night. Their security system is high-end and resets every 24 hours. Could we get into it eventually? Yes. But we’ve already been at it for weeks. And we’ve received word that there’s a big…” He hesitated. “…shipment happening any day. We don’t have time to waste.”

Y/N thought about what he was telling her.

“Why didn’t you go to Jason?” She finally asked.

“You said Jason doesn’t tell you what to do.”

Y/N glared at him for using her own words against her.

The apartment went quiet again.

Then Y/N nodded slowly. “There’s an opening tomorrow night. I can get them then.”

—————

Dick’s words haunted Jason for the rest of the night. He wanted to cut patrolling early and just get back to Y/N.

Now he swiftly moved into his apartment from the fire escape and immediately took off his helmet and domino mask underneath.

But Jason froze when he saw Y/N’s bat in the middle of the living room.

His heart raced at the immediate assumption that something happened to her. The furniture was untouched and there were no other signs of trouble, but he still rushed towards the bedroom anyway.

“Y/N?” He called out, despite it being nearly 4AM.

He let out a sigh of relief when he found Y/N slowly waking up from their bed.

“J?” She murmured, half asleep.

“Y/N, why is the bat in the living room?” Jason asked as he rubbed his face and then sat on the edge of the bed near her. Without even thinking, he cupped her cheek.

She rubbed her eyes, trying to wake up more. “I thought I heard something and freaked myself out. But it was nothing.”

“Y/N, how many times do I have to tell you? Call me when shit like that happens.”

“But it was nothing,” she repeated. “What?” She added with a sigh when he was giving her that disapproving look.

“I don’t care if it ends up being nothing. If you’re scared, then I’m going to be here. OK?” Then he finalized his point with a quick kiss to her lips.

She nodded. “OK.”

Then she looked him up and down, realizing that he was still completely in his Red Hood gear, only without his helmet.

“You OK?” She asked in a whisper. Her eyes already scanning his body for any obvious injuries.

“I’m fine,” Jason sighed. “I was just worried about you when I saw the bat. I thought something…”

Y/N quickly sat up in bed. “Hey, hey, hey. I’m fine. I’m OK. I was just being paranoid. I should’ve put the bat back. I’m sorry.”

A comfortable and reassuring silence settled between them.

“Why don’t you take a shower and come to bed?” Y/N offered softly.

Jason nodded and kissed her again.

As soon as he was out of the room, Y/N ran a hand over her face.

She hated lying to Jason. He didn’t deserve it. But she also knew he wouldn’t let her anywhere near an operation that Bruce was trying to pull off. This had to be the same thing that Tim had pulled Jason aside for at the gala.

But Bruce made one thing clear: he needed her help. And he wouldn’t do so if he wasn’t desperate.

———————-

The next night, Y/N couldn’t stop sweating and her heart rate was out of control. She tried to act like this was just another day of work, greeting customers, explaining the pieces, and answering questions.

But the need to get into the back offices when everyone else was gone would not stop nagging her.

With shaky hands, she tapped her ID on the scanner. Usually at this point in an event, all of her colleagues were either on the floor or had called it the end of their work day and headed home.

By some miracle, that was exactly the case.

Y/N locked the door behind her, never having seen a purpose for doing so any other day of working at the gallery.

“OK. OK. OK. Breathe,” she muttered to herself as her eyes scanned the room.

She knew where all the files were in the room. And Bruce had given her the keys to knowing what to look for. Now it was just a matter of putting the two together.

Y/N instantly went to work and started shuffling through papers, finding what was needed.

Bruce had given her a special pen that would scan every file within a second no matter what angle it was pointed at, so Y/N wouldn’t have any suspicious photos on her cellphone.

Y/N was almost done, covered in sweat and with shaking hands, when the door started jiggling.

She swore her heart was about to burst out of her chest.

With pure adrenaline, Y/N quickly put back the files that were in her hand.

But the person on the other side of the door was clearly getting impatient quickly and continued to mess with the doorknob.

Y/N jumped when it was finally kicked open. She whipped around to stare at a man who was nearly the size of Jason, but looked far deadlier. She’d never seen him at the gallery before, which meant he was definitely part of Ibanescu’s gang.

“Can I help you?” She snapped rudely, trying to use her authority to hide her fear.

“What are you doing in here?” He accused.

“I work here. Who the hell are you?”

He ignored her question. “Why was the door locked?”

“You still haven’t told me who you are,” Y/N shot back.

And with that, she straightened her posture and started walking past him. But this man wasn’t as stupid as he looked. Just as she thought she’d slipped away, the man grabbed her by the arm.

“Excuse me,” Y/N hissed.

But he ignored her and started dragging her into the back storage area of the gallery and further away from the crowd.

Y/N tried to rip her arm from his grasp but his grip was vice-like and didn’t even seem fazed by her efforts to escape.

This was not good.

While Y/N was still hopeful that she could possibly talk her way out, she was also realistic.

Which is why she hit a button on her watch.

Jason had gifted it to her very early on in their relationship. It was a classic chronograph watch. But he had installed a panic button onto it.

“If something ever happens – even if you think you’re being overly cautious – you push this and it will send out a signal that I can track. I’ll be there before you know it.” That’s what he had told her when he gifted it, and she’d worn it every day since.

A few seconds later, Y/N was being shoved through the door that led to the back alley.

There was a group of men, just as large and intimidating as the one who still had a grip on her arm.

It was pouring rain and freezing outside. But the slight overhand of the building into the alley protected them slightly.

“What the fuck is this?” One of them asked.

“I found her snooping around in the offices,” he announced.

“I’m one of the directors of this gallery!” Y/N bit back. “I was checking the price points on pieces for a potential customer.”

“The door was locked,” the man added.

They all seemed to be looking at each other.

Y/N was frozen, trying to wait for the perfect moment to make a run for it.

But then she saw one of the men, who appeared to be in charge, eye the pen that was clipped to the pocket of her pants. She prayed that he was too stupid to think it was anything more than just a writing utensil.

But then he slowly walked up to her. He grabbed the pen from her pocket and inspected it.

Y/N swore time froze. She couldn’t hear anything. She couldn’t feel the tight grip on her arm that was surely going to bruise her.

Then the man’s gaze shifted from the pen to her eyes.

“Get her in the car,” he told the group.

Y/N’s heart dropped.

Without hesitating, she immediately started to fight the man holding her. With a swift motion, she kneed him hard in the groin, making him let out a growl and keel over. But he dropped his grip on her arm.

Despite wearing heels, she made a run for it. She didn’t get far, but she got far enough into the rain that she was already drenched.

Another man grabbed her, shoving her against the building and clenching her throat to a point of suffocation.

“You stupid bitch,” her original captor spat as he backhanded her across the face.

Y/N blinked as a ringing started in her ears and her face stung with pain.

“Get her in the car before you make a fuckin’ scene,” the leader warned.

But before they could respond to the command, the street lights went out, causing a surge of darkness to blind all of them.

Y/N tried to step away from her attackers as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. But she couldn’t see a damn thing. The pouring rain was only making it more impossible.

It wasn’t until one of the men cried out in pain and guns started firing that she could see anything. Except it was too fast for her to make out a clear picture. Every so often, a lightning strike or a muzzle flash would give her a short glimpse.

Lo and behold, Batman was taking out the men one by one. But every time Y/N’s eyes focused on his tall silhouette, he’d disappear. She couldn’t keep track of his movements. And apparently neither could any of Ibanescu’s men.

“Shoot the girl!” One of the men yelled.

Y/N’s eyes widened when two of the men turned their guns on her.

But just before they fired off their rounds, a small force tackled her to the side and behind the safety of a giant dumpster.

Y/N looked up to see a young boy shielding her with his own body.

Damian.

Things were so chaotic that she hadn’t even registered he was there, too.

Before she could say anything to him, there was another presence that dropped down beside her. The next second, she was being grabbed and pulled into the sky.

From the feel of his arms alone, Y/N immediately recognized it as Jason.

His grappling gun had brought them to the roof of the building.

Once their feet were grounded onto the roof, Jason barely stepped away and grabbed her shoulders.

Y/N couldn’t read his face from his helmet. But the subtle movements of his head made it clear that he was scanning her body to see if she’d been hit. It only took a few seconds to be convinced that she was clear.

Then he was grasping her face. “Stay here,” he told her before he used his grappling gun to vault back down into the alleyway.

Y/N ran to the edge of the room to look down.

When Jason returned to the fight below, he was ruthless.

Damian had seen the Red Hood with a vengeance many a time. But this… this was something different.

No bone was left unbroken.

Jason wasn’t just neutralizing these men…he was out for blood and pain.

The leader of the little gang was on his knees, covered in his own blood, when he looked up at Jason, who had a gun pointed just centimeters from his head.

“Red Hood, no!” Bruce growled as he threw a batarang, knocking Jason’s gun away from its almost-victim.

Jason whipped his head around. “They were going to kill her!”

“I wasn’t going to let that happen,” Bruce countered.

While they talked, Damian knocked out the man Jason almost murdered. By now, all of them were knocked unconscious or so injured that they couldn’t even open their eyes.

Jason’s entire body froze, realizing what had really happened. Bruce and Damian didn’t just happen to be there to save his girlfriend. This was their doing. They were the ones who had put her in this dangerous situation to begin with.

“What the fuck did you do?” Jason thundered.

Just as a flash of lightening struck, he turned to face Bruce, finding his new prey.

“She had an in and I asked her to use it,” Bruce explained evenly. “She agreed.”

“Of course she fucking agreed!” Jason yelled over the rain. “She’d never say no to helping! And you knew that, and you took advantage of it!”

Then he raised his gun, pointing it at Bruce.

“Put the gun down, Red Hood.”

“Fuck you,” Jason hissed.

The next thing Y/N knew, Jason shot a bullet towards Bruce, causing her to let out a yell from above. In her heart she knew he hadn’t aimed to kill, but Bruce dodged the shot anyway.

Now the two men were fully fighting each other. Bruce seemed to be pulling his punches and just trying to remain on the defense. But Jason wanted revenge. Yes, Bruce and him had a dark history. But putting Y/N in danger erupted something inside Jason that made him see red in a way he never had before.

Just as Y/N was going to call out for Jason to stop, she heard someone drop beside her on the roof.

Dick stood a few feet away, standing tall in his Nightwing uniform.

“Dick, do something!” She begged.

“I can stop Bats, but I can’t stop him,” he told her.

“Then get me the fuck down there! Use your zip-line thingy!”

“Zip-line thingy?” Dick repeated, clearly offended. “This is a grappling–”

“Dick!” Y/N cut him off.

“Right, sorry.” He grabbed her, held her body tight to him, and lowered them down back to the alley.

When Y/N looked up, Bruce was on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

But Jason wasn’t done with him.

“You made it clear that you don’t give a shit about me. But putting the one person I love in danger just for you to solve a case? You’ve reached a new low,” Jason yelled as he slowly started to walk towards Bruce.

But before Jason could reach him, Y/N blocked his path.

She was soaking wet and shivering from both the cold rain and the shock.

Jason could already see the bruises covering her neck and face. He also didn’t miss the small line of blood that had trickled down her nose.

“Jason,” she whimpered. “That’s enough.”

He froze.

Y/N walked to him. “Please, just take me home,” she whispered.

Just seeing her made Jason’s entire body relax. But he was also reminded that she was the priority, not Bruce.

Noticing her shivering, he took off his leather jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

Bruce, Dick, and Damian were barely able to see the short, loving moment before Jason flung a smoke capsule onto the ground, covering him and Y/N as he brought her into his arms.

By the time the smoke disappeared, Jason and Y/N were gone.

—————-

When Jason and Y/N got back to their apartment, Jason when into autopilot mode of nursing Y/N. He pulled her into their bathroom and immediately started helping her out of her wet clothes. Y/N couldn’t stop shaking, and he noticed.

Jason only left her side for the split moment when he turned to start the shower, making sure to make it extra hot.

Then he was right back at her side, taking off his uniform and matching her nudity.

When he gently tugged her into their abnormally large shower, there was nothing sexual about it.

Now that Y/N’s skin was bare to him, he looked at all the injuries she had.

There were a few scrapes that would heal in a week or so. But Jason’s gaze went dark every time they lingered on the bruises across her throat, face, and bicep. He should’ve killed all of those bastards.

Y/N leaned into Jason’s chest. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Because she knew that’s what this was. Jason wasn’t mad at her – at least, not yet. That could very much come later. But no, right now, he was scared. He put so much energy into keeping Y/N away from his other life, only for her to be thrown right into the center of it. And it wasn’t even his doing; it was Bruce’s.

“I know,” he bent down to whisper in her ear as he wrapped his arms around her.

Y/N didn’t know how long they stayed in the shower. But eventually Jason turned off the water and wrapped Y/N around in a fluffy white towel. She looked so young and innocent.

He moved her to their bedroom and sat her down on the edge of the bed.

Y/N watched him as he moved about the room, getting each of them clothes – all from his own closet.

“Are you hungry?” He asked her carefully as he handed her a pair of his sweatpants and one of his hoodies.

She shook her head.

Jason wasn’t surprised. One of the side effects of trauma and shock was a loss of appetite. But he made her drink a huge glass of water before he let her get in bed. And he made a mental note to make a big breakfast tomorrow when her body recovered and realized how starving it was.

When they were both finally under the covers, Jason didn’t hesitate to pull Y/N completely in his arms, smothering her with his giant frame. She welcomed his touch and warmth, burying her face into his chest.

Neither of them knew who needed this closeness more.

Tonight had been scary. Y/N knew Jason’s anger was bound to show up at some point. But right now, both of them were just grateful they were okay.

————————-

To Y/N’s surprise, she woke up in bed alone.

But her concern didn’t last long as she heard Jason moving around in the kitchen and she could hear soft music was playing if she listened hard enough.

When Y/N moved to get out of bed, she felt all the soreness that came from being grabbed and thrown around like she was last night. She winced, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. But she made a mental note to hide any signs that she was in pain from Jason.

Over their time together, Y/N and Jason got disturbingly good at reading one another. So, when Y/N walked into the kitchen to find Jason making breakfast, she immediately sensed things were not good. It wasn’t the cooking that tipped her off. His naked back was to her and she could somehow see the tension in his shoulders – in his whole body.

Y/N knows he heard her as soon as she walked into the kitchen.

“There’s coffee,” he says without turning around from the stove. He’s making pancakes. Chocolate chip pancakes, to be precise.

Y/N pours herself some coffee and sits at the table, watching him.

A few minutes pass before she’s had enough of the tension.

“If you’re gonna yell at me, then yell at me,” she told him.

Jason froze for a moment, but then quickly looked at her over his shoulder. “When have I ever yelled at you?”

He had a point.

Yes, Jason was once filled with only rage. There was a reason some feared Red Hood more than the Batman. He was ruthless. Fueled by vengeance, his temper, and his disappointment in the evil that plagued the world. He fought his enemies, but he also fought with his friends and family.

But Jason Todd was none of those things with Y/N. He never lost his temper with her. He never projected his rage and hardships from what he saw as Red Hood onto her. He’d never even raised his voice with her.

“I know,” Y/N admitted. “But I also know you’re still angry.”

Jason sighed, turning off the stove and bringing a giant plate of pancakes to the table.

But Y/N couldn’t eat while having this discussion.

Jason leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You wouldn’t have let me do it,” Y/N countered.

“Yeah, and for good reason.”

“He used you, Y/N.” Jason tried to explain. “You’re untrained… with no exposure to this world. He knew not to involve you and he went behind my back to do it anyway.”

Y/N lowered her head in shame. There was a part of her that felt useless. She couldn’t jump around rooftops and save those who needed it. She was just…normal.

“I just wanted to help,” she mumbled.

Jason leaned forward from seeing her upset. “Y/N, come here.” He reached for her hand and baited her towards him.

She took his offer and moved from her chair to straddle his lap.

Jason held her waist tightly as he pressed his forehead to her’s. “I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered.

“You’re not going to,” she reassured him.

“Please, I’m begging you, don’t ever do something like that again.”

Y/N’s heart hurt at how desperate he sounded. She had realized far too quickly that Jason wasn’t scared of death. He was only scared of her death.

“I promise,” she told him.

“You scared the fucking shit out of me, Y/N.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Jason accepted her apology with a kiss. But it didn’t end quickly. In fact, it got more heated and hungrier. His grip got firmer on her waist.

Y/N knew where this was going, especially as he thumbed the hem of her hoodie and sweatpants. But they both needed this.

“The pancakes, Jason.” She warned him.

Jason smiled as he pulled away from her lips. “Fuck the pancakes,” he told her in between kisses. “I’m takin’ you back to bed.”

—————————

A few weeks had passed since the incident. Y/N tried to get her relationship with Jason back to normal. He still insisted on keeping his vigilante life away from her. But there was more of an understanding for why now.

However, tension had risen again a couple days after the attack, when they received an interesting gift in the mail. They had opened a rather large envelope addressed to the both of them.

Inside were two first-class plane tickets to Paris with their names on them and an open reservation at Hotel Le Royal Monceau.

Y/N had stared at them with more of an understanding than Jason.

She’d looked up at Jason. “I…I told him I’ve always wanted to go to Paris when I first met him at the gala.”

He’d glared at the gift. “Typical Bruce. If he can’t punch his way out of an issue, he’ll try and buy it.”

Neither of them had said anything about actually using tickets and reservation. It just collected dust on one of their end tables.

Now Y/N sat in their apartment alone, reading another one of Jason’s books, when her cell started ringing.

It was a number she didn’t know, but she decided to answer it anyway.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Y/L/N, it’s Alfred Pennyworth,” a charming voice answered back.

Y/N couldn’t help, but smile. As if she knew more than one Alfred in the world. “Hi, Alfred.”

“I thought it would be a good time to give you that lesson you asked for. Are you free today?”

Y/N looked around her apartment. All of her plans for today had consisted of laying around, drinking coffee, doing a bit of reading.

“Yes, today would be great.”

—————

Y/N wouldn’t make the same mistake twice and had given Jason the heads up on her change of plans.

Seeing as Jason had no issue with Alfred, he didn’t seem too bothered bit it all. But he did still tell her to be careful and ended the call with a sincere, “I love you.”

It was strange going back to Wayne Manor when there wasn’t a gala being held there.

Y/N thought it would seem more like a home this time around, but it still felt like a museum to her. And yet, she still had imposter syndrome as she walked through the threshold.

Alfred gave her a warm smile as he opened the door. “It is lovely to see you again, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Alfred, please, it’s just Y/N.”

He nodded. Then he gestured for her to follow him. “Come. I have a station set up in the cave.”

Y/N stuttered to a stop. “Cave? As in the Bat Cave?”

Alfred seemed amused with her hesitation and concern. “Of course.”

“Should I be – Is that even OK?” Y/N fumbled through her question.

“Well, I don’t see the point of hiding it from you. It’s not like you don’t know all the family secrets already, dear.”

Y/N blinked at that and finally continued following him.

Alfred led her through the secret passage way as if he was taking her to the dining room. She tried to control her reactions and not come off too interested in the details of it all. But it was rather hard.

Just like Alfred told her, there was a little medical station set up in a brighter lit area of the dark and dingy cave.

Y/N half expected him to bring up the recent drama that she’d caused. But ever the gentleman, Alfred didn’t so much as mention it.

He also did as he promised, going through everything she could ever need to know while tending to Jason. He even had little models to practice sewing stitches on. He was a good teacher and Y/N was soaking it all up like a sponge.

She couldn’t imagine her going to med school at any point. But knowing these skills were going to be used to help Jason made it easier to retain.

After hours of teaching, the cave awoke as a carport opened and the batmobile sped in.

Y/N internally swore. She’d hoped not to run into Bruce with this visit. He never seemed to be home, so the odds had seemed low. But clearly she’d messed that up.

Bruce stepped out of the car, taking in the two of them.

“Any injuries, Master Wayne?” Alfred asked politely.

Bruce was about to lie, but he glanced down at his abdomen where it was quite obvious he was bleeding.

“Perfect. My pupil can practice on you,” Alfred announced.

Y/N’s eyes widened in panic. “Oh! That’s definitely a bad idea…”

“Nonsense. Best way to learn is under pressure,” he winked. “I shall go off and start dinner. Let me know if you’re near death, Master Wayne.”

Y/N watched him leave, regretting ever having come here.

When she turned back around, Bruce was removing his cowl.

“He’s right,” Bruce admitted. “Best way to learn is under pressure.” Then he moved to sit in the medical chair.

Y/N swallowed, realizing how dry her mouth was. “Right.”

Her hands shook as she tried to remember everything Alfred had been through. But she knew in the back of her mind that Bruce was fully capable of stitching himself up. So, as much as this was a set up from Alfred, Bruce wasn’t running away from it like she had tried to.

Y/N hadn’t said a word as she cleaned his wound, only apologizing when she thought was necessary – even though he never made a sound of pain or even so much as winced.

Bruce seemed to be following her lead, not wanting to force her to talk if she didn’t want to.

But after 20 minutes or so of silence, Y/N couldn’t take it any longer.

“You know, you can’t buy his forgiveness,” she said as she focused on her stitches.

“I wasn’t only looking for his forgiveness…”

Her eyes flickered to meet his awaiting gaze. “You can’t buy mine either.”

“I owe you an apology,” Bruce began to her surprise. “I should have never involved you. It was dangerous, despite how in control of situation I thought I was.”

“I agreed to it,” Y/N offered. Then she looked at him again. “But I accept your apology.”

A moment passed before Y/N asked, “Are you going to say that to him, too?”

“I would if he would even consider talking to me.”

With that comment, Y/N put down her tools for a second and straightened her posture. “I may not know you very well, Bruce. But I do know that you and Jason are more alike than either of you care to admit.”

She hesitated on continuing. Did Bruce even deserve advice from her?

“He was hurt. And he showed all of you that hurt by being angry, because he didn’t know how else to tell you. He doesn’t feel heard and he doesn’t feel seen. He was lost. And it’s hard for him to just forget how you all handled it.” She took in a deep breath. “But I know he still sees all of you as his family. And you’re the closest thing he’s ever had to a real father.”

Then she quickly grabbed her tools again and cleared her throat. “So, get over yourself, and just talk to him. And I mean actually talk to him – not as Batman and Red Hood, but as Jason and Bruce.”

The cave went quiet.

Y/N couldn’t help herself and looked up at Bruce. Either she was losing her mind or he was giving her a very shy smirk.

“What?” She blurted out.

But before he could answer, a motorcycle sped into the cave.

Y/N would recognize Jason’s bike anywhere. But he wasn’t in uniform. Instead, opting for his black leather jacket and a normal tinted motorcycle helmet.

After he took it off, he eyed the two of them, trying to read the room.

“Hey,” Y/N said shyly.

“Figured I’d come and pick you up,” Jason answered her unasked question, ignoring Bruce.

Y/N looked down at Bruce’s injury. “Actually, I’m all done here.”

“Thank you,” Bruce said sincerely as Y/N covered the wound with a bandage. “You’ll be a better nurse than Alfred in no time.”

Y/N grinned and took off her gloves.

But then she met Jason’s unsure gaze. They had a silent conversation.

“I’m gonna go say goodbye to Alfred,” she quickly told Jason, but really she was telling both of them. “Meet me out front when you’re ready?”

Jason hesitated, but nodded.

Y/N walked to him and gave him a quick kiss for comfort and encouragement.

And then she was off, leaving the two men alone.

Jason shifted his weight, not knowing where to start.

“You’re lucky to have her,” Bruce finally spoke.

Jason winced even though it was a compliment. “I don’t deserve her.”

Bruce stood up. “That’s not true.”

“You of all people know I’m not a good man, Bruce.”

He shook his head. “We may have different views on how to save this city. But we both want the same thing. That doesn’t mean you’re not a good man, Jason.”

Jason blinked at his statement.

“I owe you an apology for... a lot,” Bruce began. “The first is putting that girl in danger.” He paused. “The second was not protecting you – before and after everything that happened.”

“You mean before and after I died?” Jason wasn’t going to make this easy for him.

Bruce’s jaw clenched at that.

“Anything else you want to apologize for?” Jason challenged.

“Yes,” Bruce confirmed. “But I get the feeling that you don’t want to hear it all right now.”

There was a pause.

“You’ll always be my son, Jason. Even if you no longer see me as your father.”

Jason’s eyes filled with tears at Bruce’s words. But he held them back. He couldn’t break down. He couldn’t be weak. Not here. Not now. Not like this.

He couldn’t take any more of this discussion. But he knew this was what he’d been wanting to hear from Bruce for so long.

“I’ll see you around, Bruce.” He told him before putting his helmet back on.

But Bruce had one last thing to say. “Keep her close. Don’t be like me, Jason.”

‘Don’t push people who love you away and make this darkness be your only life,’ was what Bruce would never actually have the courage to say.

Jason now had the cover of his helmet to hide his expressions. But he gave Bruce one last glance before tearing out of the cave.

—————

As Jason pulled his motorcycle up to the front of the manor to pick of Y/N, Damian was playing out front with Titus on the gravel drive.

“Hey, Demon Spawn,” Jason greeted after taking off his helmet.

“Todd,” the boy replied coldly.

To his surprise, Jason got off his bike and walked to him with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

Damian eyed him.

“I saw what you did that night. You saved her life,” Jason said.

Damian waited.

Jason held out his hand. “I just wanted to thank you.”

The boy hesitated before finally shaking it.

Jason didn’t expect Damian to say anything. But he did know talking to him like an adult, instead of a kid, was the only way to get through to him.

Then Y/N was walking out to them with Alfred lingering in the doorway.

“Hi, Damian,” she greeted sweetly before greeting his dog as well.

“Hi, Y/N.”

Jason was surprised he even remembered her name.

“Ready to go?” He asked Y/N.

She nodded. But then reached up to touch the white in his hair. She seemed to have a fondness for it. And Jason didn’t seem to mind.

“You OK?” She asked.

He nodded. “Better.”

She gave him a shy but encouraging look. “I’m glad.”

“I love you, you know,” Jason breathed.

“I know,” she smiled.

---------------------------------

Oh lordy. That took way longer than I was expecting. But kept my mind off of this dumpster fire of a country. And I hope reading it did the same for you ❤️

#jason todd #jason todd fic #jason todd x reader #jason todd reader insert #jason todd angst #jason todd fluff #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood fic #red hood reader insert #dick grayson #damian wayne #bruce wayne #batman #batfam #batman universe

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