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katehuntington · 3 years

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Title: Ride With Me (part 23) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±5200 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part 23: The Flagstaff Horsefair has turned out to be a huge success, but before they go home, an unexpected visitor changes everything. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: Dean’s ride: Time Has No Mercy - The Common Linnets Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @atc74, and @winchest09 for helping me. Also a special thanks to @jules-1999, who has offered me her knowledge about rodeo events like these, and @squirrelnotsam, who knows Arizona like the back of her hand.

Ride With Me Masterlist

The final day of the Flagstaff Horsefair 2008 is well on its way, the sun beating down on the market stalls and food trucks. Spectators mix with riders and trainers, some having drinks on the terras, others shopping at the tack and clothing stores. Giggling kids are chasing each other on the grass, the younger ones riding stick horses. Dean smiles at the children when they cross in front of him as he walks up towards the picture stand, slowing his step for a moment in order not to collide with the squealing youthful bunch.

By a van with ‘Equestrian Photo’ on the side, he pauses, then moves under the awning. The saleswoman gives out a printed photo to waiting clients on the side, wishing them a good day before she directs her attention to Dean. She greets him with a kind smile which the cowboy returns. Linda knows he doesn’t need help finding the images taken during this event, it’s not the first time the horse trainer has visited the photo stand over the years. Quite a few of the photos hanging on the walls in the Singer’s home and the cafeteria were made by Linda’s boss, the photographer who regularly works horse shows in the region. Ellen usually buys at least one when either he or Jo got on the podium. Dean isn’t interested in purchasing a photo of one of his own rides, though.

He looks up when the red-haired photographer stumbles into the van from the back entrance, one Nikon hanging from a sling, dangling on her hip, and another one on a monopod with a huge zoom lens attached to it resting against her shoulder. Her curls are wild and it’s clear she’s in a hurry, the next class about to start already. “Hi, Dean,” she greets, recognizing the familiar horseman instantly. “Hey.” He nods at her with a smile, his eyes flicking back to the screen. “How’s it going?” “Good. Busy,” she returns, taking out the battery of the cameras skillfully and swapping them for fully charged ones. “But busy is good these days, ain’t it? You had a few good runs, didn’t ya?” “Can’t complain,” he admits, grinning as he thinks about how successful this event has been so far. “Your student gave quite the performance last night,” the photographer smirks, handing Linda the memory card and taking back empty Sandisks to replace them with.

Dean looks up at her over the screen, noticing the mischief in her eyes. The way she just emphasized the word ‘student’ tells him that she knows exactly what’s up. He raises his eyebrows and chuckles, flustered. Looks like just about everyone in the business is up to speed at this point.

“Check out the ones at the bottom of the folder. You can thank me later,” the redhead advises, grabbing a chocolate bar and a bottle of water from the small fridge under the counter before she heads for the back door again. “Gotta run!”

Somewhat confused, Dean watches her head off to the main arena, before he redirects his attention to the display in front of him again. Stills of last night’s highlights pass by, allowing him to relive the amazing moments. The shots of the actual run are great, although he can imagine that Y/N and Meadow aren’t the most difficult pair to shoot. The Quarter mare is very photogenic with her copper coat and broad white blaze. She’s elegant, much like her rider, who has a fantastic seat, which shows, even on a still image.

Curious what the capturer of these images means, the cowboy goes down further, reaching a series of photos that show the seconds right after Y/N finished her freestyle, her arms wrapped around her horse’s neck, hugging her tight. He makes a mental note to pick that one.

There are more of her coming towards the entrance, waving at the crowd, but it’s the next couple of shots that has his jaw fall slack. The photographer must have sprinted to the other side of the tunnel before the horse and rider left the ring, because she managed to document the exact moment when he and his girlfriend embraced, Y/N still in the saddle, his arm around her, the emotional release evident. Jo is holding on to Meadow’s reins on the other side, smiling as she watches her friend and her cousin.

The next photo shows just the two of them, standing in the gateway facing the arena while waiting for the score, followed by a shot of him lifting her off the ground when the realization of the new PR settled in. The final picture has to be his favorite. It’s one of the kiss they shared. The composition of the portrait is astonishing, the spotlights on the showground illuminating the figures in the center, silhouettes against the vibrant arena. His heart grows, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He never thought he would be able to experience what he felt at that moment again, the great magnitude of pride, joy, and love. But this photo brings it all back, and he has to have it.

Still smiling at the warm feeling that has settled in his entire body, Dean scribbles down the file numbers on the order form and hands it to the blonde saleswoman, together with a fifty-dollar-bill. The wrangler bought six in total, one to frame and decorate the wall in the cafeteria, four for his girlfriend. The chosen photos are shots of horse and rider in a sliding stop, of the second right after finishing the test when Y/N threw her arms around Meadow’s neck, and of the precious embrace between him and his girl. He got a double print of the kiss they shared, one for her, one for him.

It’s a picture that he will cherish, come whatever. A picture he wants to be able to look at when he needs to, to remind himself of what he has got going for him. He knows challenging times are coming, with the ranch, with their relationship. Dean is well aware he’s approaching that inevitable turning point when he has to open up further than the lost boy with a dark past is comfortable with. But this photo, a moment forever frozen in time, will be the beacon he needs to find his way home.

Dean takes the envelope with the printed pictures from Linda and heads towards the ring. Jo is due to enter the arena in ten minutes and he wouldn’t want to miss it, for one, because she is going to bust his ass if he’s not there. It sometimes baffles him how his little cousin acts like she can’t stand being around him and yet searches for his approval so often.

He takes out the photo he wants to save for himself together with the one he will add to the cafeteria’s Wall of Fame, and slips them in the inner pocket of his denim jacket before he reaches the foot of the bleachers. With big strides, he conquers the steps, looking left and right in search of his friends once he has made it to the top. He spots Benny and Y/N on one of the higher rows when the farrier lifts his hat off his head and whistles. This barrel race is one of the highlights of the event and the arena is almost filled to full capacity, only a few seats left. Thankfully, his girlfriend saved him a spot.

His smile grows wider when he sees the cowgirl, and deep inside he’s excited to give her the present he just purchased. He can’t wait to witness her reaction. “I got you somethin’,” Dean announces. Intrigued, Y/N pulls her focus away from the competitor currently in the ring and looks at her boyfriend, awaiting. He offers her the envelope, placing his now empty hands on his knees, somewhat nervously. “What’s this?” she wonders, her curiosity peaked. “Open it,” the cowboy urges. She does, carefully folding back the seal flap and taking out the prints. When she turns them over, she lets out a stunned gasp, much to her boyfriend’s delight. “These are amazing!” she says, elated, going through the pictures of her and Meadow slowly.

The last two photos silence her, however, much like they did Dean when he first saw them on the screen. Moved, she takes in the portraits of the strong bond between her and the man that’s sitting next to her. After a few long seconds, she glances aside, meeting his warm eyes. This cowboy with a John Wayne reputation - as Jo so poetically put it - sure has his ways. He might not be very vocal when it comes to his feelings, but that’s alright, because he is able to communicate through different languages. A kiss, a dance, his trust, his support. And now these photos. It’s proof of his adoration for her, and it’s more valid than a signature.

She closes the small gap between them, moving under his hat, and grazes her soft lips over his. Ignoring his Southern friend, who lets out a low chuckle when he notices the lovebirds next to him, the head wrangler closes his eyes and kisses her back. His hand travels into her hair and holds her, making sure she doesn’t go anywhere. He can feel every connection; her featherlight fingertips on his stubble, her cute nose against his, her lashes dusting the freckles from his cheeks. Dean doesn’t need words, but neither does she.

When he slowly pulls away from her, he looks at her lovingly, forgetting time for a moment. It’s only when the commentator announces Jo’s name over the speakers, that they return their attention to the arena. The gate opens and his cousin and her horse Bullet shoot towards the first barrel, the animal doing his name justice. The three wranglers of the Gold Canyon ranch get on their feet, cheering on the blonde cowgirl, who goes through the course in record time. When she clocks a new PR, Y/N bounces on her feet, hugging Dean tight and letting out that laugh that he loves so much.

They don’t notice Benny’s gaze wandering off to the car park behind the bleaches. He has spotted a beige pickup pulling in. Like a hawk, the farrier follows the GMC truck. “We’re going over to Jo to celebrate. Are you coming?” The enthusiastic intern calls for Benny’s attention, and he turns his head to face his best pal’s girlfriend. “In a minute, darlin’,” he says, giving her a smile. “Gonna watch a few more runs.” “Alright, see you in a bit, brother,” Dean chuckles happily, before his girlfriend drags him towards the exit by his hand.

The Southerner watches them leave, then redirects his attention to the beat-up car on the field. A man gets out, his face shielded by a black cowboy hat. His posture seems familiar, he’s not even sure why. Benny narrows his eyes, but the figure is too far away to recognize. Then the frown evens out, his jaw falling slack. Suddenly, it clicks. “No fuckin’ way in hell…” he mumbles to himself.

But there ain’t no way, right? He can’t be here. Before Benny can decide otherwise, he bolts towards the steps to get down from the bleachers, hoping to not lose sight of the guy. He better make sure who just set foot on the showgrounds is exactly who he suspects he is, before he breaks the news to his best friend.

Dean swings the heavy saddle onto Aerosmith’s back, his last horse to compete at this tournament. After this run, all that’s left for him to do is coach Y/N and Joplin for their competition debut, and then they can all pack their gear and go home. Despite that he enjoys horse shows like these, he’s looking forward to his own room, his own bed. He’s looking forward to pulling up the driveway that leads to the place that is his home.

It has been a successful couple of days. With five horses sold and Joplin likely to add to that number, the Flagstaff Horsefair has proven to be very fruitful. Bobby made good money, and the ranch owner will be able to pay his crew, plus pay off some bills. Then there’s the business deal they landed with Fergus MacLeod. The cowboy might not like the Englishman in the slightest, but if they decide to take on Cain’s training, it will provide a much needed steady income. Dean isn’t delusional; he knows the ranch isn't out of the woods just yet, but it’s a start.

Humming and relaxed like he always is before competing, he tightens the cinch of the chestnut Quarter, petting him on the shoulder before he takes him out of the stable. “Good luck, cowboy.” The man who the words are meant for smiles, peeking into the stable next to him and noticing Y/N through the steel bars. She’s preparing Joplin, brushing her tail. Their starting time is only forty-five minutes after Dean’s, since both are competing in the same class. Sadly, she will not be able to see him ride. The mare next to his girlfriend pins her ears back and gives Aero a dirty look when the gelding comes too close for her liking. Both snigger at Joplin’s bitchy behavior.

“You’ll make it back in time to help me warm up, right?” she checks. “I’m kinda nervous, this being my first cutting competition and all.” “Yeah, of course,” he promises, shooting her a wink. “I’ll be there.”

Dean takes his horse outside, the Arizona sun welcoming him with bright light. A force of habit has him check his spurs and the tack before he positions himself on the left side of his horse in order to mount.

“Chief?” Looking over his shoulder, he sees Benny approaching. His strides are hasty, his jaw tensed. He checks if anyone is around before he halts and faces the head wrangler, who can read from the body language alone that something is off. “What is it?” he asks, his brows knitted together. The Southerner’s piercing blue eyes meet his gaze before he continues whispering. “I hate to do this now right before your run, brother, but--” “But what?” Dean urges when the farrier hesitates.

Benny draws in a deep breath and rubs his beard, needing a second to collect himself. He knows that what he is about to tell his best friend will have him shake on his foundations, but he needs to be prepared. He deserves to know who he might run into. The broad-shouldered ranch hand sighs, then delivers the unsettling message. “Your father is here.”

As if he just got struck by lightning, Dean stares at Benny, his eyes wide and mouth agape. The announcement rings in his ears, sounding more surreal every time the four words bounce off the walls inside his head. Reality hits him like a raging bull, however. His father is here. His father is here.

The head wrangler drops his gaze, his eyes flicking over little rocks and lumps of dirt by his feet. Speechless, he takes his hat off and wipes his forehead with his sleeve, realizing he’s sweating. His heart is hammering in his chest, so forceful that it hurts. Panic starts to win terrain, but he pushes it down and nods rigidly, acknowledging Benny’s words.

“Okay,” he returns after a few long seconds. “Thanks for telling me.” “If there’s anythin’--” Benny offers, but is interrupted by the man in front of him, who shoves his left foot into the stirrup and swiftly gets on his horse. “I’m good,” he assures, doing his best to come across as calm and collected.

Benny dips his chin, half accepting Dean’s choice to put this on hold for now. The rider has one last horse to compete, so the Southerner understands why he’s trying to keep his head in the game. He wishes he didn’t have to drop this bomb now, but there’s a chance his friend might run into John on these showgrounds. Benny might not know the entire story of what happened all those years ago, but he knows enough to recognize the impact the presence of Dean’s biological father will have. He watches quietly how the horseman pushes his legs into Aerosmith’s flanks and steers the horse towards the warmup arena without another word.

Suddenly nervous, Dean is highly aware of all the people who cross his path. He briefly studies them, even though recognizing the man who has been absent for over half of his life scares the hell out of him. Why the fuck is he here?

Dean isn’t just afraid of running into his old man; he’s angry. Angry about all the wrong choices that were made, angry about those memories rushing back to him. He stored them in a box and nailed the latch shut. He buried them, dug a hole deep enough to fit all those dark thoughts. He covered the surface with a thick layer of concrete, convinced that all those measures would be enough to lock away what he hoped to never feel again. Hopelessness, frustration, torment, aggression, guilt. But those emotions are now working their way through the cracks, like a weed that just won’t die, working up to the surface and showing its ugly head again.

But what has him exasperated the most, is the timing. Why now? His father hasn’t given a damn for fifteen years, fifteen fucking years, and now that Dean is finally getting to the point of allowing himself to be happy, he decides to show up? His fist clenches on the horn of the saddle, his nails digging into his palm. This isn’t fair!

His insides churn and twist even more when his mind snaps to Y/N. A sudden and heavy uneasiness settles in his chest, almost suffocating him. Shit, what if she runs into him? What if she learns the truth? Dean breathes out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes for a second while tipping his hat down. The panic that has his fingers shaky while he guides his horse into the warmup ring only grows with that thought. No no no, he thinks to himself. He can’t have his father ruin what is supposed to be his love story. He can’t lose this, he can’t lose her.

Preparing for his final ride goes anything but smoothly. The rider is so lost in thought that he accidentally cuts off another competitor and has to hit the brakes, apologizing to the cowgirl for the misstep. It’s a wake-up call, though; he really needs to focus and get his head straight. Aerosmith is one of the horses he and Bobby decided to hold on to a little longer, hoping the economy will be on its way to recovery somewhere next year so that they can make a better profit. Dean brought the younger stallion along to gain experience in the ring, yet he wants this ride to be solid, knowing a potential buyer could be watching.

But when he enters the arena, he can’t help but scan the crowd, suddenly aware that one of those pair of eyes is his father. He thinks of Y/N and how nervous she was last night, and suddenly it makes so much more sense what experiencing that kind of anxiety is like. The rider doesn’t even hear the announcement of his name over the amplifiers, he doesn’t hear Jo and Bobby shouting words of encouragement at him from the sideline. What he does hear is his rapidly beating heart, like a thundering echo of an oncoming storm.

He glances over his horse’s ears at the cattle in front of them. C’mon, Dean, this isn’t difficult. Separate a cow and let Aero do the work. Two and a half minutes and he will be out of the limelight. Who knows, maybe if they pack fast after Y/N’s ride, he won’t even run into his father.

The two herdholders that are in the ring to assist all contestants keep the group of young steers together. Unsettled, Dean swallows thickly and licks his dry lips, his eyes on the clock. When it starts ticking, he moves his hands forward and pushes Aerosmith towards the herd. The game is simple. In two and a half minutes, he has to separate two different heifers from the group and keep the selected cow in the middle of the arena, he and his Quarter the only boundary between the animal and his flock. He and Aero will be judged on degree of difficulty, confidence, and agility, but right now, all Dean is thinking about is surviving.

Deciding to not make it too complicated for his horse and himself, the horseman doesn’t pick a heifer too far into the herd on the first cut. Without disrupting the gathered bunch, the chestnut calmly makes his way through until Dean has decided on a cow, which he then carefully begins to push to the edge. When he has driven the brindle heifer out, Dean drops the reins and allows his Quarter to take the lead. Aerosmith locks on the lonely animal and crouches, skillfully keeping it in the center of the arena.

The crowd cheers, because the talented Quarter shows to be quick on his feet, darting from left and right and accelerating fast when his target tries to get around him. The cowboy keeps his balance, allowing his horse to move under him freely. After a few attempts to get past them, the cow yields and the rider signals Aero to back down. He blows out a breath. One down, one more to go.

The second cut goes according to plan as well. This time he does pick a heifer in the middle of the herd. The Quarterhorse tries not to disturb the rest of the cattle as he separates the one, but splitting the animals is not as clean as the first time. Once the cow is driven to the middle of the ring again, Aerosmith is back in his element and shows off his moves. Dean only has to sit back and let his partner under the saddle do the work, which he’s grateful for, because he feels like he wouldn’t be able to guide his horse in a simple circle if he had to.

The buzzer sounds; his two and a half minutes are up. Relieved, Dean exhales; at least he didn’t completely screw up their run. The young gelding really pulled through despite a nervous wreck of a rider on top of him, which just shows what a fantastic horse he is. “Thanks, bud,” Dean says softly, petting the chestnut on the shoulder.

The applause barely registers and it’s only when his eyes roam over the audience, that he notices the numbers on the board. 72.5 points; not bad. Normally, he would have been elated with a score like that, but now he just wants to get out of the ring as fast as possible, away from possible prying eyes. He feels like he’s being watched, well aware that his father is quite possibly amongst the people in the crowd. Call him a coward, but he needs to get out of here.

“Solid ride, Dean,” Bobby compliments when the rider comes through the gate, walking with him. When his nephew fails to respond, he looks up, narrowing eyes taking him in from under his baseball cap. “You okay, son?”

The troubled rider snaps his head at his uncle. Son. Bobby calls him that all the time and has done so ever since he took the lost boy under his wing all those years ago. Dean has grown accustomed to the title, even found comfort in it, glad to hear that word coming from his surrogate dad. But now the term confuses him. Suddenly, the man who has failed to step up to take care of his children and yet is his only living parent is here, and it is messing with his head in more ways than one. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, quickly averting his gaze and walking on.

Bobby lets him go, but Dean can sense the ranch owner watching him carefully. Unable to stop himself from scanning the people around the warm-up area, he briefly acknowledges the congratulations wishes from a few of his opponents with a nod and a ‘thanks’. Normally he’s up for a chat after a good run, but not now. He feels like he’s about to lose his mind, and he wants to be alone when it happens. He needs space, he needs air.

After a few minutes of hacking, Dean reaches the stables, grateful to find them mostly empty. With the last competition currently taking place in the arena, a lot of competitors already packed their trucks and trailers and left throughout the morning and afternoon. At the other end of the tent two people are tacking up, but they are far out of earshot.

In front of Aerosmith’s stable, the rider dismounts and leads the Quarter into his box, making quick work of removing the tack and rinsing the chestnut down. With the saddle on his hip and the bridle in hand, he steps into the storage room. “How did it go?”

Dean startles and almost drops the heavy load he was carrying, spinning around to find Y/N in the doorway. Somehow, it completely slipped his mind that she would still be here. The cowgirl is wearing her show outfit again, but traded her black blouse for a denim one this time. Long chaps hang down from her waist, strapped around her legs, her brass spurs barely showing. Her boots are shining and her hair is braided, her lucky hat only just allowing him to behold the playfulness in her eyes. She looks absolutely perfect.

Clueless and carefree, she waits for an answer, but her happy expression falls slightly when she notices his reaction. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” she chuckles, somewhat self-conscious. “What has you on your toes?” The cowboy blinks at her a few times before he kicks into gear again, storing away the saddle in one of the tack boxes. “Nothin’. Yeah, it uh - it went alright. 72.5 points,” he says, smiling at her faintly, quick to dodge her unraveling gaze.

Silence follows and he knows that she’s studying him, but Dean can’t even look at her, not sure how to deal with the worry that he knows is evident on her beautiful face. The second he gets lost in the vision of his girl, he will fall apart, and that’s something the unsettled wrangler can’t allow to happen. He can’t let her see it, she can’t know. So instead, he moves past her through the doorway to fill a feeding net with hay, desperately searching for a way to keep himself busy as he tries to get a hold of himself.

“Dean? Hey…” Her voice sounds so warm and kind, that he can’t ignore her any longer. When he has strung up the net, he turns to his girlfriend, wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans. Concerned eyes take him in when he looks up. “You’re shaking,” she notices, gently wrapping her delicate fingers around his forearms. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

Before she finishes her sentence completely, he’s already shaking his head. It’s more denial than an actual answer, refusing to give in to all the contradicting feelings that are pulling the rug from under his boots. She knows him well enough to see that he’s a total mess right now. His mask is faltering and he’s breaking character, unable to deliver the standard ‘I’m fine’. Can he tell her about the disturbing message Benny delivered earlier? She will have more questions, questions he is nowhere near ready to answer. But then again, he can’t lie to her either, not anymore.

Dean takes a deep breath in order to collect himself and looks at her as heavy footfalls draw his attention. Expecting Benny, he glances over his shoulder, ready to request if his friend can grant them some privacy, when he catches a glimpse of the person standing in the alley between the stables. Every muscle in his body tenses, an invisible fist squeezing his throat shut. His heart - which has been beating unhealthily fast since the alarming news was delivered to him about an hour ago - now seems to come to a full stop for a few solid seconds.

They might be in Arizona, but Dean just froze to the ground, unable to move or speak. All he can do is stare at the man that is his own spitting image, only three decades older. The familiar stranger is wearing a smile on his lips, emotion swimming in weary eyes. After fifteen years of silence, John Winchester stands before his oldest child, a broken voice delivering the words Dean never wished to hear again, and yet missed so dearly.

“Hello, son.”

Well, shit... Enough with the fluff. Angst is here!

Also, did you spot my little Stan Lee moment? Does a certain red-haired photographer seem familiar? Yep, that’s me!

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part twenty-four here

#Ride With Me #Dean x Reader #Dean x Y/N #Cowboy!Dean #Dean AU #Cowboy!Dean AU #cowboy!dean x reader #cowboy dean #cowboy dean au #Supernatural AU #Dean Winchester AU #Dean Winchester #Supernatural #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Supernatural fanfiction #SPN #SPN fanfiction #Kate Huntington

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hencethebravery · 3 years

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>> first and last lines writing game <<

I’ve been writing all wknd so I’m going to take advantage of that and play these games that @eirabach has been doing. I love you, boo.

Tagging: @jump-on-winds-back @mymostimaginaryfriend @justanotherwannabeclassic @distant-rose @jadeddiva @soft-october-night

>> 01. last line(s) you’ve written

01. wip, “dearly departed,” spn, deancas: Despite all this, and perhaps in keeping with his own preference for following through on his habits, he has never once stayed for Open Mic Night. It’s not as if he has anything against it in theory, he just never felt especially compelled to do so. And he was never a big fan of crowds generally.

“You should think about staying tonight,” Meg advises, sliding his third cup back over the counter. “I’ve heard this guy before, he’s good.”

02. wip, “the apportioners,” og: Case in point: Never betray a demi-god. Particularly one so unbelievably busted. Who would go so far as to force her to watch the other demi-god she is almost certainly (and regrettably) falling in love with, commit one more atrocity. To force her to watch her son die. Again. To force her to watch him choose between her and his family. Far, far more trouble than they’re worth. And sure—sure. She is angry. She may well always be angry. And yet. There’s the kitchen. The small, warm kitchen with the cream-colored tiled floors, inlaid with red grout. Where Edie makes too much bread and Estelle stores her spelled sourdough starters. Where Greg made her a cup of chamomile tea and described the unique softness of Clemente’s thread—how it curled and straightened and existed. And so she refuses. She refuses to do what some other irreparably broken version of her friend has expected her to do.

So. She lets him go. Again.

>> 02. first lines of my last 20 10 (20 is just... so fucking many; if you wanna do 20 be my guest but i have shit to do today) fics

01. wip, “dearly departed,” spn, deancas: Creative writing is so not his forte and really, what’s there to say about The Lodge that hasn’t already been said? A revolving door of adjectives that infect the collegiate discourse every few years—when some starry-eyed freshman sees the tall, thin door frame in all its carved, unknowable glory and gets it in their sweet, sweet head that surely no one has ever thought to opine on the virtues of a local, now-legendary establishment that seems to have haunted Main Street since long before time began. So, what is there to say that hasn’t already been said?

02. complete, “untitled,” spn, deancas: The two of ‘em establish the somewhat rude habit of bailing during get-togethers without telling anyone. They stop answering their phones at any point before noon shortly after that. He’d call it a side effect of New Couple Syndrome (NCS), but it’s something they continue doing long after any reasonable person would call something “new” (and honestly, he’s not even sure you could say it was “new” when it was new, technically).

03. complete, “untitled,” spn, deancas: There’s a fucking manticore in Memphis. Seriously. Human face, body of a lion, the whole freakin’ nine.

“Certainly one of the more… imaginative of God’s creatures,” Castiel muses, “albeit, unsustainable.”

04. complete, “herbalist’s guide to skyrim,” star wars, reylo: Rey Kenobi really needed to get in the habit of bringing dates to restaurants she had no emotional attachment to. She had already lost an unacceptable number of extremely dear favorites that had been there for her when she’d had less than nothing and now? Blighted by the memory of mediocre men who she knew she had given far too much power. She knew she had an association problem, okay? She and her mildly overpriced therapist were working on it. Had been working on it. For a while. She really missed the dumplings from Hunger Pang.

05. complete, “a grief observed,” star wars, reylo: The presumptive triumph inherent to the return of the self? Painfully short-lived. It is brief and blinding and there is a feeling akin to invincibility singing in his veins. A humming that echoes in the gruff tenor of what could only be his father’s voice. How it must have felt when the heroes made yet another daring escape—against all the odds. The euphoria that occurs when you have begun to think that maybe, just maybe, you’ve finally won. It makes the loss so much worse than he could have ever imagined. Not when you’ve gotten so close to having everything you never even knew you wanted. And that’s half the battle, isn’t it? Knowing what you want. Like it’s easy.

06. complete, “a super solid history of the “good old fashioned lover boy(s),” c. the beginning (or there about) to now-ish,” good omens, aziraphale x crowley: Perhaps one of the cruelest tricks that God has ever played (and the list was indeed long) was in allowing angels to believe they were incapable of love. There is some amount of debate as to whether or not this was entirely by accident. She was a busy woman after all━perhaps that was why it, the question of whether or not angels were truly capable of love, had slipped through one of her metaphysical cracks (of which, admittedly, there were many). Those who managed to refrain from falling had quite an easier time believing this particular theory to be very much the case. A largely unspoken, slightly offended, “She would never,” followed by an affirmation of the belief in the long held assumption that they were above such things anyway, so really, what did it even matter, and can we please return to the task at hand?

07. complete, “first family,” ouat, captain charming: If the chronically thin, awkward, and punk-ass 15 year old version of Killian Jones could have, somehow, opened a portal in time and space; a feat which might have allowed him to peer into the future in an attempt to witness what it might hold, he would have likely imbibed several ill-advised shots of cheap bloody rum, and then quite dramatically flung himself atop the rumpled sheets of his perpetually unmade bed. If the younger Jones had even an inkling of the type of life he’d be living as a 35 year old man─with a full time job, a mortgage, a husband, one wildly photogenic dog─he would have done everything in his power to steer himself off such a disturbingly clean-cut, well-behaved course.

08. complete, “untitled,” ouat, captain swan: Rather predictably (and not without a somewhat inevitable feeling of frustration), Emma Swan was one of those people who had never put much stock in the notion of “vibes.” She had a “freaking superpower,” according to Ruby, which allowed her to suss out the truth about people, but as soon as Ruby suggested that the same might be true of certain places, Emma had chuckled, as if it was some unheard of thing.

09. complete, “untitled,” ouat, captain charming: In the end, he’d chosen the place because to be quite bloody honest it was precisely where you might expect the writer of an obscure indie mag to live. It was an older building (a suitably generous designation), tucked in between the modernist monstrosities of the last 20 or 30 years. Replete with gorgeous, if not ill-kept, accoutrements framing the windows; crumbling steps and a brick exterior in varying shades of red and orange. The aesthetic was rounded out by the kind of neglectful landlord you might expect, a horrid man who frequently enjoyed reminding his tenants that he lived, “out of state,” and they’d have to, “be patient.”

10. complete,” untitled,” ouat, captain charming: There’s an old adage about assumptions that Killian Jones finds physically repulsive. It is so unerringly awful, in fact, that he won’t even deign to repeat the thing in his own head. You know what it is, it’s not as if he needs to speak the actual words. And regardless of the fact that there’s this old, tired saying about assumptions, people still do it, and he’s done it, and ya know what? It kind of worked out in his favor, so, take that.

#@alanabeans #@hencethewriter #attn blogging #i... truly can't spot the pattern #does someone else #not in my brain #see the patterns #cuz i can't see them #also i am so so excited about #(1) this deancas au #and (2) my novel

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redstarwriting · 5 years

Text

Reliving Our Adventures

Thor x Reader

Request: “Your make it rain fic was so adorable!! Could your write more adventures about reader and Thor in the new asgardian village?“

Word Count: 1,202

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Swearing, Loki sadness, Peter Quill bullying

A/N: Imma be honest, I never usually had a big thing for Thor but writing all these things about him is making my heart do the feels thing. It doesn’t help that I just went and saw Men In Black International either. Chris Hemsworth you’re ruining my life. Anyways, thank you to the Anon who requested this! I’m happy you enjoyed “Make It Rain!” As for the rest of my requests, I will bust them out as soon as I can but if I’m missing for a day or two it’s because my birthday is quite literally *glances at fake watch* tomorrow. So if I don’t post on the twentieth, I’m celebrating being brought into this world with my family! Other than that, I hope you enjoy!

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Buying a polaroid camera was the best decision you had ever made. Being the girlfriend of the God of Thunder made things very interesting and you wanted to capture every moment. Not only that, though. It was nice having pictures of him around when he was off saving the universe and you weren’t with him. That’s exactly what was happening now, actually. The dumbass left around a week ago to go with the Guardians and do something that would result in saving the entire galaxy and didn’t take you. Shameful. You knew how to fight and quite honestly, were probably more intimidating than him at times. Especially when you got mad. Instead, you’re stuck here in his cottage in the new Asgardian village, looking through all of the polaroids you had taken.

You come across the first one you ever took, which was of Thor giving you a very confused and ‘oh my GOD I was just attacked by LIGHT’ look while in an apron and wearing oven mitts. To make it even funnier, there was a blur of a whole batch of cookies just falling on the floor. You didn’t tell him what the polaroid camera you were holding was, and he didn’t know what it was, so that’s where the confused look came from. The hilarious squinty look came from the big flash that temporarily obstructed his vision and caused him to drop the cookies you two had just made. The cookies were a queen-warming gift for Brunnhilde, but they became food for the floor because of Thor’s reaction. “Thor! The cookies!”

“(Y/N)! That contraption!”

You giggle at the memory, seeing the very next picture you took of him. It was the exact same scene, except he was smiling and holding the second batch of cookies instead of them being on the way to the ground. You fish through all the other pictures, your eyes landing on one of you and Thor huddled together by a bonfire. You two are swallowed by a blanket that Brunnhilde knit for you two as a housewarming gift. Your head is resting on him, and he’s gazing at you. His expression is literally lovesick puppy, and it’s absolutely adorable. Brunnhilde was the one who took this candid photo, actually. It was a nice night where you all just sat back and relaxed for once. Thor knew a lot about space, actually, and that night he was telling you all about it. “It is funny how small all those stars and planets look from here, but do not be fooled. They are big. Much bigger than what you would think. It is actually quite alarming, seeing a planet from the outside for the very first time. Very big.”

The next picture that catches your eye is the one of Thor and Rocket pointing and laughing at Peter Quill who is glaring at them and just so happens to be... soaking wet. You snort at this memory as it started a prank war between Peter and Thor that is still waging on to this day. “Thor I don’t get why you want me to stand here,” Peter says, standing on the edge of the dock. “Look out at the sunset Quill! It is lovely from this specific area here, believe me!” Peter turns and looks out at the horizon, only to be pushed in the water by Thor. It was a pretty lame prank, but Rocket and Thor could not stop laughing. You snapped this picture because seeing Thor with this much happiness on his face made your heart flutter. As many good memories you have with him, there are some dark ones as well.

With that thought, your eyes focus on another picture. This one is of Thor, his back to the camera, looking out at the water. On the water were spots of fire. This picture was a darker one, as it was a memorial of the death of his brother, Loki. Loki never got a proper Asgardian funeral, and it really affected Thor. Even though Loki’s body wasn’t there, it eased Thor knowing that he finally got a sendoff that he saw as fit. You took this picture so any time Thor missed him, he could look at the picture and know that he was still there. Ironically, the very next picture was of the time you got Thor a snake. You got it for him because Bruce told you about the times his brother would try to trick and kill him as a snake when they were little. If that happened with you and your sibling, you would probably be scarred and scared of any and all snakes for the rest of your life, but this is Thor we’re talking about. He looks overjoyed. The snake’s head is coiling around his wrist as he’s holding it, and he’s looking at you like an excited child in a candy shop. “He will be named Loki!”

“After your brother?”

“Yes! He did enjoy turning into a snake and attempting to end my life when we were children! It fits perfectly!”

Chuckling, you see another picture of your silly boyfriend. He’s wearing a dollar store Thor costume. Well, not the whole thing, just the wig and the fake Mjolnir. His eyebrow is raised and he’s doing his best to look sexy, but the bright yellow strings hanging down around his head made the picture hysterical. Not to mention the styrofoam hammer in his hand being half the size of his actual hammer. “Perhaps I should do what many humans do with their hair and get highlights in this color.”

“Perhaps you should definitely not do that.”

Your browsing is cut short by a flash of light. You jump, quickly looking in the direction of where it came from only to see Thor smiling at you. “You really are the most photogenic person in all of Asgard, my love,” he says, pulling the polaroid picture out of the camera and shaking it. You run over to him, basically jumping in his arms. He laughs, kissing your head. “Miss me?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Yes, of course not. That is definitely not why you were looking at all of the pictures you have taken of me...” he starts, and you roll your eyes, cutting him off with a kiss. “Okay, fine. Maybe I did.” He grins at you, placing another quick peck on your lips before setting you down and walking over to where you were looking at all of the pictures. “I do love all of these. Thank you for trying to document everything we do here,” he tells you, sitting the newest picture down with the rest and grabbing a marker to date and title it. You walk over to him, smiling. “Of course! I wouldn’t want our adventures to go undocumented, would I?” you ask, and he smiles. “No, of course not,” he mumbles, writing the date and pausing for a second before titling the polaroid, ‘Reliving Our Adventures’ You smile as he puts his arm around you and pulls you to his side. Although you were reliving many adventures right now, you know there will be even more to come. And that thought excites you.

#thor x reader #thor odinson x reader #avengers x reader #thor imagine #thor odinson imagine #avengers imagine #thor #thor odinson #avengers

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morsartis · 5 years

Text

Home pt. 1

(part one of the Home series)

There was something peaceful about getting away from things for awhile. Something relaxing about being able to put life on the back burner even if it was just for a day or so. It was what had drawn you to the ramshackle cabin in the first place. The abandoned home was remote and unimpressive. A sort of thing your eyes could sweep over and miss if you weren’t careful. To say it was love at first sight might have been a bit dramatic but... It was nice to have a place to go where no one would look for you. Most had simply seen a money pit- and in a way it was- but you had seen a project. Your interest had started small, it made a beautiful photography set, and that was where your interest deepened. From there you had cleaned up the surrounding area, pulling weeds until your hands were red and sore, snapping pictures of the little well pump your had uncovered. Then you had wanted pictures of the porch. But the porch was falling apart and certainly not as photogenic as you would have liked. So you simply asked a few stores in town if they had pallets they wanted to get rid of. Surprise, surprise, they did. That was how the porch got new steps and boards. You had used some left over stain you’d found in the attic with an excuse of needing it for a photoshoot. An easy half truth to keep. No one in your family asked a single question, they were well used to your antics.

It didn’t occur to you how deeply invested you were into the cabin until you used the many needed repairs as a way to vent out your frustration. Somewhere along the way you had become wholly attached to the abominable thing. The cabin was your little secret, a place that only you seemed to know of. That seemed to become useful as you watched your family life fall apart at the seams.

Your sister was getting married, something you were excited for, even your parents were excited. Until they learned to who- or rather what- your sister was marrying. A young dwarf woman who looked at your sister like she hung the moon. It hadn’t even crossed your mind that your parents weren't as enthused with your sister’s happiness as you were. That night had led to one of the biggest fights you’d ever seen. Your parents tried everything to convince your sister to break off the engagement to no avail. She loved her fiancée. In the end she had packed her things and left. What your parents didn’t know was that you helped her. She had asked you to come with her and while you regretted not doing so, you had a plan. The cabin was slowly coming along and while you still needed to buy some much needed appliances it wouldn’t be long. It might not have been ideal, the cabin was off grid after all, it would certainly do in the pinch you were in. So you put extra hours into your job and buckled down for the long haul. You wanted to be out of there before the wedding and your sister was going to get a wedding present even if it killed you. She deserved at the very least that much.

You were close to your goal. All you needed was a fridge to replace the busted one and then you could focus on some bare necessity furniture. At the moment you were working a late night shift at your new job, you had to juggle two if you wanted to meet your deadline, and going over your mental checklist. After you bought that fridge you would need to buy a bed first. Having something to sleep on was important, especially with your two jobs. Once you had that set up you could begin sneaking your things out. It was best not to alert your parents to what you were doing. Who knows how they’d react...

“(y/n)?” You nearly jumped out of your skin. Turning swiftly you found your coworker- one of the mothpeople- staring at you in concern. Their hands were clutching each other as they stared you down. You smiled reassuringly.

“I’m fine Azar, no need to worry.” He seemed to think it over before nodding slowly.

“Alright then. If you are sure.” Giving him another reassuring smile you nodded. You liked Azar, he was slow to warm up to others but once he did he was very kind. It might have had to do with his appearance, he was a death’s head moth with a very punkish fashion sense, not the most friendly looking person. But you found out soon enough that once someone extended an olive branch in his direction he latched on with all four hands and didn’t let go. You were glad to have him as your friend.

Once again you were lost to your thoughts as you closed up that night. Azar had offered a ride but you had apologetically declined. When everything was all set up you’d take him up on the offer. But until then you had to focus on the goal at hand. Though you still felt bad for declining the offer.

(EDIT: PART 2 is up!)

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matrixaffiliate · 5 years

Text

Ojalá - Aleatory

Chapter Update! FFN and AO3

From this lovely prompt by @writing-and-nutmeg I've changed it up a touch but I've kept the most important bits. Prompt: "You're famous and I'm a checker at Target so I never expected us to meet, but now it's three a.m. and you just waltzed up to the counter with a tub of fake butter, a package of water balloons, and a cart full of bananas and asked if I wanted to help you get revenge, so...Hi, I guess?" AU

Aleatory

Marlene hated working the late shift. It was torture to sit as the only employee in the small shop from ten at night until she could close at three in the morning.

She'd just finished the vast majority of the closing list and was waiting for the stupid clock to move all two minutes so she could close and go home when the door opened.

Marlene clenched her teeth to keep from yelling at the idiot who managed to make it into the store two minutes before closing.

The man went straight for produce, pulling bananas down into his trolley and then he made a b-line for dairy. Marlene sighed in relief when she saw him heading her way.

But words failed her when she saw his face.

"Hey, do you sell water balloons here?" He asked as he started unloading the trolley.

"Nnn, no," she looked closer, sure she was mistaken.

"You watch the Marauders?" He asked when he caught her staring.

Marlene nodded, most everyone watched the popular YouTube channel. They had started as pranksters while in A-Levels but had branched out to do a lot more in the last couple of years while they went to university.

"Are, are you really?" She stuttered.

He nodded and held out his hand, "Sirius Black."

"Marlene McKinnon," she shook it, still trying to resolve in her mind that one of the Marauders was standing in front of her with a cart full of bananas.

"You want to help me get revenge?" He grinned at her and Marlene found herself smiling back at him.

"I, well, I, er, I'd need a few minutes to close..."

"Great, I'll load up my car while you close and then we're going to show James what happens to men who think it's alright to hide my Switch at the top of a light pole."

Marlene's eyes went wide, "Holy shite, did you get it down alright?"

Sirius reached into his leather jacket and pulled out his phone. "It's a shitty resolution because I wasn't going to wait to get it down but you can watch the footage I took when we're done."

"You're, you're offering me the opportunity to help out with a prank and to watch uncut footage?" Marlene wondered if she'd slipped while mopping, hit her head, passed out, and was now experiencing a very strange dream.

Sirius grinned at her, "Seriously. I need help and I don't know if Remus and Peter were in on James' prank or not so I can't go to them."

"So you'll take any stranger?" Marlene chuckled as he paid with his card.

"I'm not taking any strangers," he held her eyes, "I'm taking my new friend, Marlene McKinnon."

Marlene bit her lip, feeling the butterflies starting to build in her stomach. "I can probably finish the rest of the closing list in five minutes."

"Perfect," he loaded everything back into the trolley, "I'll meet you outside."

Marlene watched him walk out before pulling her cash drawer and switching on the closed sign. She tried to hurry through the closing checks before coming to the door, finding Sirius waiting for her with his trolley.

"If you show me where this goes, I'll put it back."

"Right there," Marlene pointed to the neat stacks of trolleys inside the door.

"Great," he pushed off and jumped on the trolley, riding it to the stacks and making a ruckus as he crashed into them.

"Are you good to leave your car here?" He pushed open the door. "We can drop it off wherever you want if it can't stay here."

Marlene blinked, "I, you want me to ride with you?"

"Yeah, it'll be more stealthy if we're in one car. But we'll still need to be careful because James knows I'm going to get him back, so he'll probably be on the lookout for my car."

"We could take my car," the words were out of her mouth before she could think better of it.

"You're a genius!" Sirius threw his arm around her shoulders. "Follow me, we'll drop my car off at my house and then go to James' in your car."

"Alright," Marlene said it slowly. She had often thought that the Marauders played characters on their videos, that they were acting a part. But Sirius' behavior so far led her to believe that maybe he was more toned down in the videos than he was in real life.

"Here," he threw his arm off her shoulders to grab her hand and started writing on it. "This is my number in case we get separated."

Marlene stared down at the back of her hand.

"Let's go," Sirius winked at her and then climbed into his car.

This was so weird.

Marlene followed Sirius for nearly a half an hour before he pulled up to his house. He parked and motioned Marlene to pull in beside him.

"Let's load up," Sirius started putting his bags of bananas into her back seat. "James goes for early morning runs about six and we need to be far away from his place when he gets up."

"What is the plan here?" Marlene helped him transfer everything to her car. "You've got bananas and a tub of margarine, I'm not coming up with anything coherent."

"Oh, the water balloons," Sirius shut his car door and ran for his house. "Come on," he waved her forward.

Marlene hesitated only a moment before following Sirius inside.

Inside was exactly what his vlogs had looked like on the channel, except it was cleaner than she remembered on any of his vlogs.

"Ah-ha!" Sirius stuck his head out of a hallway cupboard. "I thought I had some."

He held up a small package of water balloons like a trophy.

"Let's fill them up here," he pointed to the kitchen sink, "then we'll head up the road to James'."

Sirius tossed her the bag before pulling out a camera.

"Hi everyone," Sirius spoke to the camera as he clicked it on. "It's," he panned to the oven clock, "3:38 in the morning and I'm here with my new friend Marlene." He moved to include her in the shot.

Marlene tried to smile like a normal human being and not someone whose stomach just plummeted at the realization that six million people were going to see her in this video.

"And I'll splice in some footage here of me rescuing my Switch that James managed to hide at the top of a freaking light pole." He paused for a brief second before continuing. "But Marlene is here helping me get some revenge."

Marlene tried to look natural as she focused on filling water balloons.

Sirius switched the camera off and slid it into his coat. "You're really photogenic, everyone's going to love you."

"How do you handle that? Knowing six million people are going to see you at least once a week?" Marlene tried to distract him from the blush on her cheeks that blossomed with his words.

Sirius shrugged, "It didn't used to be that way. It used to just be our mates. I try to remember that for the most part that hasn't changed. I'm not going to go grab a pint with all our subscribers, but a lot of our mates are still watching us and I feel like it's still for them."

"So I should just think about it as making a video for a friend?" Marlene tied off another balloon.

"With a friend," Sirius winked at her and Marlene felt the blush blossom again.

They made quick work of filling the rest of the balloons and then loaded them into her car. As she stared out into the early morning, Sirius flipped on his camera.

"Alright, we're here in the lovely Marlene's car and back here," he moved the camera to include her back seat in his shot, "is bananas, water balloons, and a tub of margarine. And we're going to have some fun."

He switched off the camera and grinned over at her.

"What exactly are we going to do?" Marlene asked as he pointed for her to turn.

"We're going to rig water balloons to fall on him when he leaves for his run and smear bananas and margarine all over his front drive so his special running shoes he ordered from the States get all gooey. I brought a camera to hide and film the whole thing too."

Marlene laughed, "That's actually one of the tamer pranks you've concocted."

"My Switch was unharmed and my data untouched," Sirius shrugged. "Now if my Switch was busted or if James had erased my data we'd be finding a way to feed his running shoes to goats."

"Oh my gosh, could you really get a goat?"

"Maybe," Sirius frowned, "I'll have to look into that. It's good information to have on hand."

"This is fun," Marlene smiled as she followed Sirius' signal to turn again.

Sirius grinned at her, "You're fun."

Marlene focused on driving, but she couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face.

Very quickly she found herself pulling up in front of James Potter's house.

"Let's unload everything and then I'll park my car down the street." Marlene looked back at all the bags in her car.

"Brilliant, you are," Sirius jumped out of the car and started unloading.

They quietly moved everything on to the pavement and then Marlene pulled her car around the corner.

It didn't take long to set everything in place, and while it was a bit messy, Marlene had so much fun that she forgot how tired she'd been before Sirius showed up to the shop nearly three hours earlier.

But what was most surprising to Marlene was how much she liked Sirius. He was attractive, all the Marauders were, but now Marlene knew that Sirius wasn't just another hot guy on YouTube. He was funny and sharp and exciting and genuinely nice.

Every time he pulled his camera out he'd remind her it was just a video with a friend, just him and her. And it helped. She felt herself falling back into her snarky self, making Sirius laugh with her comments and teasing him, especially when he flipped on the camera.

She felt a little sad that it was all coming to an end. Sirius was putting the hidden camera in place and then she would just have to take him home and that would be it. She'd go home, get some sleep, and maybe, she looked at the phone number still on the back of her hand, maybe

she'd text him. Ask how it went. Maybe he'd tell her when the video would go up so she could see it happen.

"All set," Sirius' voice pulled her back to the present. He opened his mouth to say more when Marlene heard steps behind the front door.

Without thinking she grabbed Sirius' hand and ran at full speed down the street, pulling Sirius around the corner just in time to hear James scream in surprise as the prank unfolded. But in her haste to get them around the corner she'd pulled Sirius into her and inadvertently pinned herself between a fence and Sirius Black.

"Sorry," she panted and looked up at Sirius.

"Don't be, you were brilliant," Sirius didn't move to unpin her.

"I, thanks," Marlene waited, sure he'd pull back and ask for a lift home.

Instead, he moved his hand from holding hers to resting on her hip.

"Do you have plans for later today?" He bent his head and Marlene felt her back try to arch without consent.

"Nope."

He brought his face just a bit closer to hers, "Want to grab dinner and then edit a video with me?"

Marlene grinned up at him, "A date then?"

"If it must have a label," he smirked, "then yes, a date."

"Well, labels aside, I'd like to get dinner with you and edit this video."

He moved closer, bring his lips down to hers with just a fraction of an inch between them. "Good, because I don't want you to be just one of the six million people who watch Marauders' videos anymore."

Marlene couldn't stop herself as she closed the distance between them, her lips catching his. It was feather-light at first, but Sirius stepped into her, bringing both hands to her waist. Marlene's hands moved from the fence behind her to rest on Sirius' shoulders. The kiss was soft and exciting and a part of Marlene's brain couldn't grasp that she was standing in James Potter's neighborhood kissing Sirius Black as the sun rose behind them after having pulled off a prank that would be viewed by millions of people. But the whole of her brain told her she never wanted to stop kissing him.

The woman who lived in the house behind them didn't know any of that though and tsked loudly at her gate.

Marlene laughed against Sirius, grinning when he laughed with her.

"Why don't you drive me home and then we can meet up after we both sleep?"

Like a spell, the word sleep instantly made Marlene yawn as her exhaustion started to catch up with her.

"Here," she pulled his hand into hers and pulled his marker out of his jacket pocket, "this is my number."

She held up her hand where he'd written his number, "Now we match."

"Brilliant you are," Sirius grinned down at their hands. "I don't know if I'll ever wash it off."

Marlene's eyes went wide, "If my number ends up in one of your videos I'll kill you."

Sirius winked at her before pulling back and moving to her car.

"I'm not kidding, Sirius," she glared at him as she unlocked the car.

He laughed as they both climbed in. She turned to threaten him again only to find him leaning across the center console.

"Don't worry, Marls," he tucked a curl behind her ear, "I don't want anyone else calling you to go grab dinner."

He kissed her then, and Marlene finally just told the part of her brain that felt this was too surreal to shove it. She was kissing Sirius Black and she had no plans of stopping.

#blackinnon #blackinnon fanfiction #sirius x marlene #marlene x sirius #sirius black x marlene mckinnon #marlene mckinnon x sirius black #sirius black #marlene mckinnon #muggle AU #YouTuber AU #YouTuberSirius AU #fluff #pranking James #I'm really liking writing YouTuberAUs #there might be more

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platonicone · 5 years

Text

Devotion - Story of the Oracle and her Shield

Chapter 9 - Entanglement (noria)

Is love the pinnacle of human emotions? I wonder…

The Day Before Departure

Once Lunafreya calmed down, they took their obligatory selfie at that wonderful site before venturing on to meet all the town folks. Everyone greeted them enthusiastically. They said their final goodbyes to them. Some people thanked them, some hugged them, and some even gave them gifts.

As a form of revenge for his earlier stunt, Lunafreya took Squall to meet one person he hated more than Dr. K, the hotel clerk. Lunafreya spends extra time there which particularly annoyed Squall. After a while he couldn’t take it anymore, so he grabbed her by her hand and dragged her out of the hotel.

Once their meet-and-greet session was done, they finally went to the most famous restaurant in Lestallum. Squall had a table reserved for them. The place was dimly lit with few candles on their table providing yellow glow to the surroundings.

Once they were seated, the waiter greeted them cheerily and handed them the menu. He served them water while as they both browsed the menu. The waiter stepped away to give them some time to decide what they want.

“Shall we start it off with a soup? How about the one which I used to get for you daily?” Squall asked. He loved this soup.

“Umm Squall,” she started hesitantly.

“Yes?” he said, without looking up from the menu.

“I have a confession to make,” she said in a low voice.

He immediately put down the menu. One thing he knew was that nothing good ever came after, ‘I have a confession to make.’

“It’s about this soup. I really, really,” she took extra-long pause before continuing, “hate it.”

“What?” he said, slowly blinking, wanting to make sure he heard right. ‘How can someone possibly hate this godly soup?’

“I really hate this soup,” she said, covering her face with her hands as she rested her elbows on the table. “It’s just that you brought it every day with so much care and love that I did not have the heart to say no to it.”

“Idiot,” he said with a facepalm. “You should have told me sooner. I would have brought something else instead.”

“I didn’t want to be ungrateful for what you did. I didn’t want to hurt your feeling even in the slightest, so I just pretended to like it.”

“You silly girl,” he said, shaking his head. “On the battlefield, rather than the strength of your enemies, trust in your allies is more important. If you can’t trust me even for such a simple thing, how can we trust each other with our lives?”

“No, it's not about lack of trust, it’s the opposite. It’s about preserving the feeling of care. If you care enough for me to go out of your way to get me something, the least I can do in response is to accept it wholeheartedly. I’d rather have a soup I don’t like for the rest of my life than to make you feel bad about doing something you had no obligation to do, to begin with. The reason I am sharing my dislikes with you is that I feel comfortable sharing it with you now. I am not afraid anymore to show you who I am and how I feel.”

“I am glad you trust me.”

“Squall, I want you to trust me too. You often retract in your shell and don’t voice your concern and feelings. I may be an Oracle, but I can’t read your mind. You have to let me know your feeling else I won’t understand.”

“It’s hard,” was all he had to say in response.

“What is?” she had to probe further.

“Opening up like that is hard for me. I used to be very reserved --” before he could continue any further, she busted out in uncontrollable laughter.

“Used to? What are you talking about? You still are very reserved,” she chided.

“I mean more reserve than I currently am. It took a lot of effort from lots of friends to make me this outspoken. So, this is as good as it gets,” he said, setting her expectation straight.

“You really are a work in progress,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Aren’t we all?” he replied quietly.

“Touché.”

They finally ordered their appetizer and main course, and now their eternal wait for food to come out started. She noticed Squall’s neckless, with a lion-like creature, reflected the light from the small flame. She was always curious to know more about it and she figured this was as an opportune time as any to learn more about it.

“What is that lion-like creature on your pendent and that ring you always wear?” she asked. “Now that I think about it, it is even etched on your gunblade.”

“Oh, this?” he said, picking up the dangling pendent on his neckless. “This is Griever. It is the ultimate Guardian Force or Astral as you would call it. Its form is derived from the lion for its strength and pride. Its name is derived from the word grieve, which is to feel great sorrow. The more sorrow Griever feels the stronger it gets.”

“An Astral who feeds on sorrow, it sounds like the god of death from legends Lady Gentiana told me about,” she recalled.

“I like Griever because it teaches me that the more pain I can handle, the stronger I will become.”

“You do have a very interesting take on things. I wonder what goes inside your head sometimes.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to find out,” he said, shaking his head.

The waiter came back to deliver their drinks, which interrupted their flow of conversation.

They silently watched the flames of the candle dancing with the gentle wind. The amber glow from the flames provided ethereal glow to their faces. Their eyes spoke more to each other than their words ever could. At this moment they did not want to think about the future or the past; all they wanted was to live out this moment for as long as they could. If there were a shooting star right now, the only wish they would make would be to hold on to this moment forever.

“Squall, can I ask you a question?” she said, breaking their silence.

“Sure,” he replied promptly.

“Do you like me more now or when I was in a coma?” she said, playing with a strand of her hair.

“What kind of question is that?” he said, leaning on the table.

“Just answer me, honestly,” she said, leaning in as well.

“Awake,” was his one-word answer.

“Then how come you used to talk to me a lot more when I was asleep, then you talk to me now,” she said with a devilish smile.

His eyes widened when he heard that. It was supposed to be his eternal secret. “How? How did you know about that?”

“Squall, I have another confession to make,” she said very slowly, pausing after each word.

He gulped in anticipation of what was about to come out.

“When you used to talk to me, I used to hear it, sometimes,” she admitted, trying her best not to break into a smile.

It was as if someone had drained all the color from Squall’s face. Squall narrowed his eyes and took a fork in his hand, “That’s it. I have to kill you now. You know too much about me.”

She busted out in laughter upon seeing his reaction. Squall just looked away in embarrassment as he recalled everything he had said to her while she was asleep.

Thankfully, for Squall, the appetizers came just in time to prevent any further discussion on this topic. Neither of them said anything as they ate their spring rolls. While Squall avoided any eye contact, she would frequently steal a glance at him and smile cheekily, clearly having a good time at his expense.

Once they were done with their appetizer, there was nothing to do other than wait for the main course to arrive. Lunafreya used this opportunity to snap a selfie commemorating their last dinner in Lestallum.

She looked at the photo she had taken and showed it to Squall.

“Nice photo, Lunafreya,” he appreciated her photography skills, especially because it was taken in a low light setting.

“Thank you,” she accepted the compliment with a small bow of the head. “By the way, you don’t need to call me Lunafreya. You can just call me Luna like my friends and family does.”

“Oh, so I got upgraded from a stranger to friends and family? Nice. Thanks, Luna,” he said with a half-smile.

“You need to smile often. Didn’t anyone teach you how to smile properly? This is how you smile,” she said and proceeded to show a very photogenic smile.

Squall tried to mimic it and it just looked weird.

“No, not like that,” she said with a chuckle. “Do it like this,” she said, showing off her thousand waltz smile.

Squall tried again and somehow ended looking even weirder. She quickly grabbed his phone from the table and snapped his picture before releasing laughter she found so hard to hold back.

“That’s not nice.” He folded his hands like a child and looked away.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh at you but, you looked so funny making that face,” she said in the middle of her laughs. Even though he wanted to stay mad at her, but he simply couldn’t. Seeing her laugh always melts away his anger.

“How come you can smile so naturally,” he wondered aloud.

“Your smile is a reflection of your heart. It should come from within, you cannot force it,” she said sincerely.

“For me, you know what comes from within? Anger and rage,” he said, admitting his flaw.

“We are so opposite,” she said with a sigh while putting her head on the table in resignation.

Their much-awaited main course finally arrived. The chef certainly went above and beyond with the gourmet food.

She took one spoon of it and immediately reacted, “This is so good.”

“It sure is,” he agreed.

Midway through their dinner, a mischievous thought plagued her mind. She dropped her knife and fork in her plated and addressed Squall, “Can you do something for me, please?”

“Sure, what it is,” he said almost absentmindedly.

She looked at her watch and continued, “The princess demands her subject to feed her right now else I will not eat.” She even pushed her plate away for added dramatic effect.

He almost choked on his food when he heard that. He quickly swallowed his food and said in a low voice, “Are you out of your mind. You want me to do that in front of everyone.”

“Yes!” she exclaimed, “that was two seconds. Now I am tied with Dr. K.”

“Seriously?” he said, dropping his utensils in his plate. “Even on a dat—dinner you are playing this silly game?” He corrected himself as he almost used the wrong word.

She winked playfully. “You have no idea how much fun it is.”

‘Well, then, two can play this game. I’d better come up with something.’

Luna had barely eaten half of what was on her plate. He often wondered how this girl survived eating so little. Squall, on the other hand, had devoured it all. He was still getting used to this new vegan diet, which he had to adopt thanks to Luna.

As their dinner was nearing the end, Squall initiated a conversation. “Hey Luna, I have a confession to make.”

“Oh-oh, that can’t be good,” she said, paying close attention to him now.

“When you were asleep, one day Dr. K told me to kiss you. She said princesses often wake up when they are kissed. So, I,” he did not finish is his sentence intentionally to build up the tension.

“You did not,” she said with fury in her eyes and pointing a fork at him threateningly.

Squall just calmly kept eating, ignoring her.

“Finish the sentence, Squall,” she demanded, now equipped with a butter knife in the other hand.

“So, I did it,” he said with a casual shrug. “And it was so much fun,” he added for an extra sting.

“No way,” she said, shooting lasers through her eyes. “You--- you,” words escaped her mind not letting her formulate anything coherent.

This time it was Squall’s turn to laugh. It was a natural laughter of pure innocence, which melted her anger. Eventually, she too smiled.

Squall looked straight into her eyes and asked, “Would you have hated me had I kissed you?”

“I... I...” somehow Squall kept finding ways to make her speechless today. Just the thought of him kissing her made her instantly blush.

“1.5 seconds,” he proclaimed.

“What?” she asked, still blushing.

“You went from pale to blush in 1.5 seconds. I win,” he declared emphatically.

“You are so dead,” she said threateningly.

She was so angry that she wanted to throw something at him, anything. He was lucky that the waiter just arrived in time to take their plates. She made a mental note to get back at Squall for this one.

“I am going to miss this place,” Squall said suddenly bringing up a topic that Luna was trying to avoid throughout the day.

“Yes, I have lots of fond memories of this place. My time here is something I will always cherish. This town and its people will always be close to my heart.”

Suddenly, a strong wind gushed blowing out candles in the entire restaurant. Squall had quickly reacted to cup the flame with his right hand, preventing the wind from directly reaching it. Luna placed her right hand opposite of Squall’s, and cupped the flame from the other end. Their conjoined hands encased and protected the flame from all sides.

The blustery wind ran around unhinged making a whistling noise. Few strands of her hair, which were not pinned properly, decided to breakaway and dance with the wind, fluttering across her face. Squall's unruly brown hair joined in as well, as it swayed freely in the wind. Even in the midst of this strong wind, one small flame still survived, courtesy of the two hands gently protecting it.

“A candle must burn and melt so it can provide light to those around it. Such is the life of an Oracle. Like a candle, she too must sacrifice herself so the world can find a flicker of light in the ocean of darkness.” She shared her innermost pain.

Even though the street was full of people, at this moment it was only them and their small flickering flame. It was easy to get drowned in the surrounding noise, but at this moment all they could hear were each other’s heartbeat. The wind died down and the flame no longer needed their protection, yet they sat there without moving looking at each other, knowing fully well of what each of their fates entails. She was to be with a king and he was a traveler who would have to leave soon.

The waiter came to disrupting their blissful moment. He picked up the remaining items from the table and left, once again leaving them alone. Neither of them said much as they both struggled with their internal conflicts. They both knew that they should live in the present and not worry about the future, but that was easier said than done. How can you live in the present when you know your future is doomed? Yet they tried.

After paying their bill and giving tips, they left the restaurant only to be greeted by more people. Once in public, their masks quickly came back on. One chooses to hide behind a mask of impassiveness, while other choose to hide behind a smile.

After meeting Holly and her crew, they made one final stop. They stood outside an ice-cream shop.

“Oh no, I am so full,” she said, placing her hands on her stomach.

“We can’t leave without eating ice-cream,” he said, examining the flavors on the menu.

“I can’t eat anymore, my stomach will explode if I eat anything else,” she whined, still clutching her stomach.

“Yes, you can,” not sure if he encouraged her or gave an order.

“Nooooooooooo,” she said, trying to be dramatic.

“Okay, fine, if you don’t eat, I won’t eat it either,” he said, folding his arms across his chest.

“Hey, that’s not fair. That’s emotional blackmailing,” she complained.

“Call it whatever you want. We are leaving if you don’t want to eat,” he said, clearly enjoying this situation.

“Okay, fine. You win. But I’ll only take a kid’s scoop,” she resigned. She was certain that she saw a gleeful smile on Squall’s face for a fraction of a second.

“Which flavor?” he asked.

“Let me see.” She got closer to look at all the available options. “What are you getting?”

“Vanilla.”

She responded with a facepalm, “Seriously, Squall?”

He chuckled at her reaction. “Nah, I am going to get Coconut flavor.”

“Good choice. I’ll get that too,” she decided.

“No, get something else so we can try another flavor,” he suggested.

“That is a very valid point,” she said, as she continued to scan the menu. “Okay, I’ll get cookies and cream.”

“Do you want any topping on it? I am thinking about having a chocolate chip on mine,” he said.

“No, I’ll just take the regular.”

Squall grabbed two cones and carefully made his way to the fountain outside of Leville hotel where Luna waited for him.

“Here is your ice-cream, princess,” he said, handing over her cone. He knew she hated when he called her princess.

“Thank you, my butler,” she playfully fired back. Squall just rolled his eyes in response, knowing fully well that he lost that one.

The sound of the fountain seemed to drown out all the city noise. Tiny water droplets bounced around playfully causing ripples in the water. Faint light around the fountain gave a colorful glow to the bouncing water. The mist in the air near the fountain was cool and soothing. They sat on the ledge of the fountain enjoying their ice-cream and their time together.

“You were right, this is so good,” she said, savoring her ice-cream.

“Mine is good too. Here try it,” he said, giving her a spoon he had gotten from the shop. She took a spoonful of ice-cream from him. “Wow, I never imagined coconut plus chocolate would taste this good.”

Squall tried the cookies and cream from her and it was just as good. Just as she was about to eat her ice-cream a huge tremor shook the place. Since the awakening of Titan, the tremors had been a frequent occurrence. She leaned forward, trying to balance herself, all the while holding her ice-cream cone carefully not to drop it. She ended up with ice-cream on her nose for her troubles.

Without missing a beat, Squall grabbed his phone and took a perfect picture. He could barely contain his laughter.

“Hey, delete that picture,” she urged.

“Nope,” he said, as he put away his phone in his pocket.

“Not fair,” she complained, stomping her legs like a child. He ignored her plea and continued to eat his ice-cream.

As retaliation of taking that picture, she dipped her hand in the water and splashed Squall with it.

He instinctively turned away to protect himself.

“How dare you?” he dipped his hand in the water for revenge. Just as he was about to splash her, she screamed, “Stop.”

“I have ice-cream in my hand. Let me finish it first,” she pleaded.

“Fine, I’ll get back to you later,” he said, narrowing his eyes threateningly.

He extended his hand towards her face and she closed her eyes tightly not sure what he was about to do. He gently wiped off the ice-cream from her nose.

They were peacefully eating ice-cream when she randomly said, “Squall.” She said his name absentmindedly barely above a whisper but he still heard it.

“Yes,” he responded.

“Squall,” she said again, this time a bit louder than before.

“What?” he asked.

“Squall,” she said again, this time stretching his name to an extent that it felt like slow motion.

“I am listening,” he said, getting slightly annoyed.

“I just realized that it’s not easy to say your name. It doesn't roll off the tongue easily. I don’t like it,” she said, shaking her head.

“But that’s my name,” he said with a shrug.

“Besides, Squall and Luna do not even sound right,” she said, waving her hand.

Squall did not know how to respond to that. He slowly blinked, trying to wrap his head around what she was getting at.

“Hmm, I have an idea. How about I call you Leon from now on?” she suggested gleefully.

“Leon?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Yes, Leon,” she said with a sweetness which would make even ice-cream feel sour. “Leon and Luna, see, it has a nice ring to it,” she said with a smile.

“Leon and Luna?” he trailed off.

“Can I please call you Leon?” she said, folding her hand with her ice-cream cone in between.

“Fine, call me whatever you want,” he said with a facepalm. Secretly he liked Leon too.

“Yes!” she rejoiced and happily went back to finishing her ice-cream.

Once they were done eating Leon suggested, “Shall we go back now.”

“Yes, it’s about time,” she agreed.

“But before we go, there is just one last thing I need to do,” he said.

“What is it?”

“Just close your eyes for a second,” he requested.

“Why?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Just do it. Please,” he urged.

“Okay, fine,” she said, closing her eyes. For the next few seconds, nothing happened. Suddenly a big splash of water drenched her. She slowly opened her eyes and there was fury in it.

“Oh-oh,” he realized that she was mad now.

She dipped both her hands in the water and started splashing Leon. Not the one to back down, he returned the favor. For the next few minutes, they fought like kids, until both of them were completely drenched. Their friendship had evolved into something neither of them had the courage to admit.

They eventually made their way back to their quarters. After dropping her off to their room, Squall loaded all the luggage in the car they will take tomorrow. It was very late by the time he came back.

In a world filled with war, peaceful days like this were an oddity. Little did they know that this was simply the calm before the storm.

Author's notes

This is my favorite chapter of the story so far. I had so much fun writing it. What should we call this couple? Squnafreya? Leona? idk. What do you guys think?

Sorry, no Easter eggs in this chapter.

Things get serious now. Someone is going to die in next chapter. Any guess who?

If you enjoyed this chapter, at least say 'hi' in the comments below. Please :)

2 notes · View notes

winetae · 6 years

Text

⇾ money shot (m)

↳ in a pornographic movie, refers to the sequence in which the male actor ejaculates onto his partner’s body.

⇁ female reader x yoongi

⇁ smut || pornstar!au

⇁ dom!yoongi, submissive!reader, verbal humiliation, spanking, roleplay, rough sex, cum play, dirty talk, this is porn ok and everything is consensual

⇁10.9k pwp

. . .

“Don’t look so put off. Min Yoongi’s indisputably one of the best in the industry. He’s extremely professional and experienced—and handsome to boot. You’ll be in the very best hands. He rarely works with newbies, so consider yourself special.”

↳ or ; the author just really wanted to write a pornstar!au but got carried away;;

a/n; in no way is this story meant to depict the real life working conditions of adult film stars. contains inaccuracies ! + i couldn’t have written The smut scene w/o my #1 perv ilu

(!!) pls re-read the warnings !! may contain triggering content. roleplay includes portrayal of a not so ethical or appropriate relationship (teacher/student) and the verbal humiliation makes use of degrading names/slut shaming, so please don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable !!

(!!) if your name is mj stay away from this fic !! also if ur jordan’s sister stop reading smut khkjh

In front of you, a manila folder was slammed down onto the table's wooden surface, the sudden movement making your cup of coffee wobble dangerously. You cupped the drink between your cold hands, intent on not letting a drop of your 5.79 dollar purchase go to waste. Only once the liquid had stopped sloshing around did you bother to greet your agent with a cordial nod.

Dressed in an all black, pressed suit and with his hair combed back, he seemed ready to head off into a business meeting, not discuss your next adult film project over a cup of coffee. Choosing to skip over the small talk, he leaned forward on his elbows and waited for you to take the folder and peer into its contents.

You spared it a cursory glance, not expecting much from its uninteresting appearance. Still, you decided to humor him—after all, Seokjin wouldn’t have called you out to meet in person if it wasn’t urgent. Unless legal paperwork was involved, your usual means of communication with the self-proclaimed Important Man was limited to phone calls and e-mails.

“Your first big movie,” was what he said in lieu of greeting, a proud smile pulling at his lips. You relaxed somewhat. He looked visibly pleased with himself which could only mean good news for you. “Now, no need to thank me...but I did pull a few strings to land you this job.”

“Uh-oh.” You stared hard at him, trying to detect the underlying message behind his words. Knowing him, ‘pulling a few strings’ could mean anything from calling in a favor to giving the director a blowjob in the back of his car between shoots. He was that kind of agent.

Seokjin shrugged, choosing not to put your worries to rest. “I know the casting director well—we were in the same frat. We catch up from time to time and when he mentioned he was looking for a fresh face, I immediately recommended you. They reviewed your portfolio and really liked those test shots we took of you two weeks ago.”

Your mind drifted back to the two hour long photoshoot that had taken place in Seokjin’s friend’s villa. Judging by the way the place was decked out to look like a pimp crib, you were half convinced that it was owned by a seedy nightclub owner or something of the sort. You were probably not too far off from the truth but all talks of shady property owners aside, the house served as a spacious and luxurious backdrop for your swimwear shoot. The concept of the day was ‘slutty trophy wife’. No added photo filters or retouching had been needed to make your skin look perfectly slick and shiny; your body had been waxed smooth and slicked down with baby oil—your tiny bikini basically just an accessory.

At the time, you had grumbled and complained about the set-up, cursing the burnt-red color that had appeared on your skin after posing provocatively by the poolside in the blistering heat. Your skin had needed a week to recover from all of the consequent peeling and redness and you had been obliged to cancel some of your schedules. Some things just couldn’t be fixed with makeup... And no one would pay money to see a girl with a bright red, flaky nose giving head. But all of that trouble had been well worth it if the finished pictures had gotten you such a coveted job in the end.

He gestured to the file in your hands, “You’ll be working with Min Yoongi.”

“Eh? Min Yoongi?”

Certain you had misunderstood, there was no use concealing your incredulity. Min Yoongi’s name held so much power on its own—the mere mention of it was enough to have you straighten your back. Surely this had to be a joke of some kind, right? The entire thing was just so absurd; it felt too good to be true. Frankly speaking, Yoongi was way out of your league. You hadn’t even been in the industry for very long...yet someone deemed you fit enough to work with a big gun?

You eyed the corners of the quaint coffee shop with suspicion. You tried to spot any hidden cameras, fully expecting a crew from MTV to bust out from the shadows at any moment and unveil the prank.

Seokjin let out a sigh, disappointed by your lack of enthusiasm. “Don’t look so put off. This time, you—or rather I—struck gold. Min Yoongi’s indisputably one of the best in the industry. He’s extremely professional and experienced—and handsome to boot. You’ll be in the very best hands. He rarely works with newbies, so consider yourself special.”

“I’m not put off,” you were quick to defend. “I’m just... I’m having a hard time believing any of this is real right now. Can you blame me?”

“Well believe it. Why do you look so surprised? There’s a reason people would open their wallets to see you on film. You’re very photogenic, you look great on film. Lots of people have hot bodies and pretty faces, but not many give off the same energy as you.”

You watched him plop in a third cube of sugar into his black coffee, not thinking much of his compliments. The thing about Seokjin was that he knew exactly what to say—the well-timed flattery basically second nature to him. At first, you couldn’t help but be charmed, however you soon came to realize that you were just one of the many people his sweet-talk had an effect on. Seokjin had absolutely no qualms using the same lines and buttery tone with anyone he met, and after seeing the way he operated, everything about him seemed too rehearsed and contrived to be genuine.

Seokjin waited until all the sweetness had dissolved into his drink before continuing, “You know that we always advise against filming anal and DP scenes right away for a reason. It's hard to make a living off of porn because people naturally tend to lose interest once they’ve seen everything you have to offer. Over time, talents tend to lose their shine. Being in the industry changes you. Doesn’t matter if they’re the best actor out there, the dead fish eyes will always give them away... It’s like they’re not really present during the scene, you know what I mean? If the performer is bored, so is their audience. If the audience is bored, no one will be willing to hire them anymore.”

“Well isn’t that lovely,” you intoned drily, silently contemplating your own fate. How long would it take before you eventually became that jaded? What a bleak future to look forward to.

“I’m just being honest,” he raised his shoulders, his ever-present smile dimming a little. “It’s better to be honest about this. I don’t have any time to be spewing any inspirational bullshit. And you shouldn’t listen to anyone who tries to feed you that crap, either. You should always know what you’re signing up for.”

You supposed there was some merit to his words. Even if he was heavy-handed with his praises, he had never painted you an idyllic picture of the adult film industry. Before signing the contract with your agency, they had made sure that you had known exactly what you were putting on the line, what you were risking. You had never ventured into this world with false hopes; they had made it quite clear that if you didn’t make it big within the first few years, it would be hard to find your footing in an industry that was constantly on the lookout for new talents. Considering how the average span of a porn star’s career was less than three years, you understood the pressure to cement your name before your time was up. Building a solid fanbase was crucial if you wanted to survive as a porn star.

With this thought weighing on your conscious, you regretted not showing more gratitude to your agent... Without him, you probably would still be filming low quality videos that you tried to pass off as artsy. Seokjin had been a huge help in launching your career. He was basically fetching you deals left and right that no rookie without connections could ever get. In the past, you had been eager to seize these chances before they slipped away.

This time, however, you couldn’t shake off the mix of feelings that churned in the pit of your stomach as your eyes skimmed over Min Yoongi’s long list of impressive credentials and accolades. On the one hand, you were excited about being granted this huge opportunity right off the bat because being partnered with a renowned porn star meant that you got to ride off his fame. It meant getting more exposure, which was something you certainly wouldn’t refuse. (Only a fool would turn this offer down!)

On paper, it wasn’t that all different from any of your previous jobs—show up, get your makeup done, take your clothes off, get fucked, maybe fake an orgasm or two. Yet, for some ridiculous reason, you couldn’t help but feel strangely inadequate for the job. Nervousness crept up your spine the longer you let your gaze sweep over his lengthy résumé. Shooting with someone with this kind of reputation also meant that if you fucked up, everyone else would know about it the next day. The industry was a lot smaller than it appeared to be from the outside. One mishap could have you spending the rest of your career trying to erase the label you had inadvertently earned on set.

It wasn’t that you lacked confidence in your skills. You gave a mean blowjob and your pussy was nice to look at. Because your body was your bread and butter, you dieted and worked out daily in order to ensure you stayed in the best shape. Maybe it was vain of you to proclaim, but you looked good on camera, especially with your clothes off. And it wasn’t like you lacked any experience, either. You had filmed your fair share of pornography, so you knew you were able to keep the public interested, if the rising views during the weekly cam sessions were any indication of your popularity. But the stakes wouldn’t be the same this time and that was what scared you.

Perhaps Seokjin sensed your distress because he offered you an encouraging smile, his whitened teeth on display. “You’ll do great. If I didn’t think you would make it big, I wouldn’t waste my time on you. I always put my eggs in the right basket so I’m confident that this will go well. This isn’t going to be some seedy shoot filmed on a three hundred dollar budget. They’re pulling out all the stops for this one... The director is hoping this will win him another AVN award this year but we’ll see. Don’t mention it if you see him, by the way. He’s a bit sensitive and it’s best not to step on his toes too much.”

All you could do was nod, distracted by other, more worrying thoughts. Were you ready to actually go through with this? Would you be able to do a good job? What if you somehow messed up? You stopped yourself from continuing this line of thought. That would be counter-productive. It really wasn’t like you to doubt yourself this much but the minute your agent had dropped Min Yoongi’s name, you had been putting everything into question.

Seokjin held your gaze, his eyebrow raised expectantly as he waited for your inner ramblings to cease.

“Now, if you could just review the terms of the contract before signing and we’ll be all set.”

You stared at the dotted line, pen in hand. Seokjin hadn’t hired a fool. It didn’t take very long to finish signing all the legal paperwork.

Despite your initial fretting, you were excited to finally be part of something so big. The production cost for this movie was noticeably more significant than any of your past works put together. That meant better filming equipment, better filming locations, better actors. The more you thought about it, the more convinced you were that this would be your breakthrough role. This movie could potentially change your life and help you make a name for yourself.

It became all the more apparent that your key to success would be working with Min Yoongi.

Before this, you had only heard about him in passing—his name one you had overheard whispered by the gossiping hair and makeup staff, one that you saw plastered on the covers of glossy magazines and online news articles. You had seen printouts of his face on the front of a handful of film posters that lined up the walls of your agency’s building. He was someone you knew of, someone you knew about, but you had never experienced this burning curiosity to know about him before today.

With so much at stake, you decided to do your homework. You did your research, watching his interviews on YouTube and searching his name up on various web portals. Through the pieces of information you had gathered by watching his interviews, he seemed like a calm, collected man—completely different from the image you initially had of him. His cockiness wasn’t showcased through self-praises and obvious boasting; but rather by the way he coolly and confidently answered the blunt questions hurled at him from prejudiced interviewers. Never had he flinched or faltered; never had he let anyone intimidate him with twisted questions intended to cause controversy.

It was his cold, no-nonsense kind of behavior which led you to wonder: what sort of person was he like to work with? Without the firsthand experience, the only way you could find out was by personally purchasing a movie he starred in. Which you did—for research purposes only, of course. There was no shame in wondering what your partner looked like in action or how he worked once the camera started rolling, right?

Watching his movie meant that you were taking your job seriously, you reasoned Seokjin had assured you over and over again that you would be in good hands, but what weight did his words have when he wasn’t the one getting spanked in front of a filming crew? You just wanted to know what sex with this man would be like. What was it exactly that you had to look forward to?

You set up your laptop and made sure everything was plugged in properly (the last thing you wanted was for your computer screen to black out during the good bits). Pillows propped behind you, you wriggled around beneath your fleece blanket until you found a comfortable position.

The movie you had picked out was supposed to be on the tamer side of his porn filmography. You had selected it in the hope that it would ease you into things. It was a typical let's-fuck-the-babysitter scenario so you didn't really expect much. Scenarios like these were predictable because they had been done so many times before. How much would you be willing to bet that it followed the cunnilingus+sex on the couch+blowjob formula? But with how popular he was, you didn’t really know what to expect anymore... What made him so different from the rest? A part of you was worried he had a monster dick or something equally impossible to recover from. Guys with huge dicks always made it difficult to keep up your filming schedule and a good fuck was never worth that setback.

Laptop nestled in your lap, you pressed play. The screen of your laptop lit up, signaling the start of the movie, and you held your breath as you finally got to see what all the fuss was about.

The first thing you were immediately struck by was how incredibly handsome he was. Even though his female partner was no less attractive, your eyes couldn’t help but stay glued on him. You could tell just by the way he carried himself and the way he spoke that he was very confident and self-assured. He never looked away from his partner, his lids heavy and eyes dark with the promise of more to come. You couldn't look away; his simple presence demanded you pay him attention.

The more you watched, the more you understood why people when wild for him; his charisma coupled with his experience had evidently made his career long-lasting and successful. Surprisingly, any line he delivered sounded convincing. He made a cheesy, over-the-top porn script sound hot. How the hell? You put the volume up, your earphones picking up the slightest noise—every rustle of the sheets, every sigh of pleasure from the girl, and every slick and obscene noise coming from her pussy as Yoongi thrust into her were loud enough for you to believe you were there as it happened.

You weren’t exactly sure when, but your eyes had fallen closed somewhere along the way. The audio in your ears helped fuel the lewd scenarios you conjured up in your mind; it wasn’t hard to imagine yourself in the place of his female counterpart, Yoongi working his hips against yours, his heavy breathing tickling your ears as you moaned out his name. Sliding your hand beneath the waistband of your panties, you were barely surprised to find yourself already damp with arousal. You carefully circled a finger around your entrance, coating the digit with your fluids until it was lubricated enough to slip in.

Quickly, you built up a steady rhythm. Your finger tried to mimic the pace he had set—each thrust inside your wet pussy a weak imitation of what his hardened length would feel like inside of you. One finger wasn't nearly enough to satisfy the growing need that pulsed between your legs. You eased in a second digit next to the first, feeling your walls stretch to accommodate the newest intrusion. Breathing out a sigh, you kicked your head back as you worked yourself to a frenzy, letting the loud sounds flowing through your earbuds lull you into a trance.

“Such a good pussy.” The wet, squelching noises almost drowned out his groan of appreciation. You mewled in response and spread your legs wider as if to urge him deeper, but it was no use. Your fingers couldn’t bring you the same satisfaction that his thick cock would. Squeezing in a third finger, you tried to imagine him working his hips against yours, his lean body sticky with sweat as he filled you up to the brim with every thrust. “Hear that? You take my cock so well, baby.”

"So fucking—tight." He growled out, the primal sound loud in your ears. Lust coursed through your veins and you could feel it burn, melting away any of your inhibitions. Sucked deep in your fantasy, you could vividly picture his pink lips curling into a smirk as he watched you slowly start to unravel before him.

Tears stung your eyes. You arched your back, hips rutting against your hand, as you tried to alleviate the burning ache within you. Your fingers twisted around, rubbing your walls, searching for that sensitive spot inside of you. But your efforts were futile—from the angle you were sitting in, your fingers couldn’t quite reach it, no matter how much you tried. Forehead shiny with perspiration, you keened in frustration, too wound up to continue. You wanted to cum so badly that it hurt. Desperately horny, you changed your course action, circling at your swollen clit instead with renewed determination.

The first slide against your nub was electrifying and your entire body shuddered, overcome with pleasure. The obscene sounds from the video blended in with your own soundtrack. Breathless and dizzy with want, you failed to register that the moans spilling from your mouth were echoes of Yoongi’s name. Your pleas for release grew louder as the fire inside your lower belly erupted into an inferno.

"I can feel you around me, fuck, you gonna cum soon, baby? Yeah? Gonna cum all over my cock?" Yoongi whispered harshly into the crook of your ear, his heavy breathing sending shivers down your back. “Fucking cum.”

His name on your lips, you threw your head back as the band inside you snapped, your body his to command. Trembling all over from the force of your orgasm, you clenched your eyes closed as you tried to prolong your trance. If you imagined hard enough, you could feel his hot breath fan your skin, his fingers bruise your hips as he kept you still.

Yoongi’s voice echoed inside of your head long after the aftershocks of your orgasm had waned, haunting and promising all at once.

It took another useless glance at the clock to confirm that you were early. You were filming the second sex scene today. The first scene had been filmed already and you hadn’t run into any complications. Your male co-star’s dirty talk could have been better, but his handsome face and skilled tongue had made up for it. You could still remember the delicious stretch of his long fingers inside of you, and how his deep baritone voice growled in your ear as he fucked you pressed up against a window. Off camera, he had been nice and easy-going, cracking the occasional joke between takes.

With how great things had turned out yesterday, you were anticipating today’s scene almost as much as your character was. Today you were filming the scene with Min Yoongi—the grand finale, the climax of all climaxes. The Big Nut. Makeup and hair done, you had already filmed your intro video and were now killing time before the actual shoot began.

Better early than late, you tried to console yourself. Waiting around like this made you jittery; the amount of caffeine pumping through your veins filled you with a burst of energy you found hard to keep under control. It wasn’t even noon and your daily dose of coffee had already been exceeded. You bounced your leg up and down, the constant fidgeting giving away how nervous you really were.

You tried to distract yourself by reading over the film script, ignoring how your fingers trembled slightly like a chronic smoker who hadn’t gotten their fix.

The movie was scheduled to run for one hour or so, with two sex scenes filmed in two different locations with different actors. The scenario was your cliché go-to porn plot in which you would be playing the role of a naughty student who gets caught fucking someone after school hours by her teacher. Punishment ensues. You fuck your feelings out. The end.

Well, that was definitely something you could handle, you thought to yourself as you leafed through the script. Although there had been more lines to memorize than you were used to, you had confidently assured your agent that you would be able to do it. You were glad that your two years hanging out in the theater club back in high school wouldn’t be for nothing... It was a shame that you could only showcase your acting skills in a porn movie because you knew a lot of people would skip over the plot and jump straight to the filth. During the last few days, the mediocre porn dialogue had become your bible, your bedside book that you read religiously before going to sleep. You had read it over so often, you were confident that you could recite every line in your sleep.

A polite cough interrupted your pre-show pep talk.

You looked up, not expecting to meet Min Yoongi’s gaze. Blinking, you took in his features, not realizing that you were blatantly staring. Who could blame you, though? There was something so virile about Yoongi that had you doing a double take. He exuded masculinity with every step he took towards you. Something inside you clenched.

“____?” He called your name, gaze flicking over your features in turn. He took a seat opposite of you and holding out a hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you smiled as sweetly as you could. His grip was strong and secure, his touch cold.

“Hm.” He let out a noncommittal sound while he perused a file on his lap. You recognized the papers Seokjin had typed up beforehand, your name headlining one of them, but your attention was quickly diverted.

Your eyes were instantly drawn to his long and elegant looking fingers, the veins in his hands prominent whenever he flipped a page over absentmindedly. It was strange seeing them in person... Just the other night, you had been salivating over the thought of them inside you, thrusting and curling with expert precision and unwavering focus, every movement intended to coax a moan of pleasure from your lips. You had seen how lethal they could be through the screen of your laptop... Now you were going to be experiencing those skills firsthand. The thought sent a rush of excitement through your body.

“I’ve taken note of your hard limits.” His smooth baritone tone snapped you back to attention. “The scene doesn’t require we go that far anyway, but just in case you get too uncomfortable with anything, your safe word is ‘cobbler’, correct?”

“Yes.” You gave a short nod, your neck stiff as you tried not to break eye contact.

“Have you read through my form?”

“I have, Mr. Min.”

A snort escaped him then, his lips curling into the kind of smile that bordered on a smirk. “No need to be so formal. You can call me by my name outside of a scene.”

“Yoongi, then.” Your hands felt clammy all of a sudden and you wiped your palms on your skirt, hoping that he wouldn’t notice your incessant fidgeting. The glint in his eyes indicated that you weren’t nearly as successful in masking your nervousness as you would have liked. You didn’t even know why you felt so antsy. This wasn’t your first time meeting an attractive porn star. Yesterday’s shoot with Taehyung had gone without a hitch. So why were you getting so worked up now? You weren’t eighteen and impressionable anymore.

His gaze swept over your body, interrupting your line of thought. You felt it brush over your delicate throat, your supple curves, your bare legs. The scrutiny made the surface of your skin heat up, your legs clench together.

“Ah, I’m looking forward to working with you.” A ghost of a smirk crossed his features. For a moment, you believed it to be a product of your imagination, but he shot you a wink as he got up to his feet, the action suggestive enough to have you swallow thickly.

In retrospect, maybe it was a good thing you were nervous—it made your acting a lot more believable. You wrung your hands together, head bowed in a show of contrition.

"While Mr. Jung and I don't see eye to eye on a number of subjects, some of his methods of punishment have been very enlightening—albeit a tad primitive.” He regarded you with detached interest, his eyes sweeping over your figure. His impassive stare made you fidget in your seat, the scratchy material of your skirt rubbing against your thighs. “I could just let you off with a detention slip, but students like you need to be put back in their place."

Yoongi was so good at this, his tone convincing enough to have you believe in his words. For a moment, you let yourself pretend that all of this was real—that you had really acted up when you weren’t supposed to and that he was now going to punish you for your misbehavior. It was so easy to slip into your role when he appeared so serious and forbidding.

"Bend over."

He punctuated his command by tapping his ruler against his wooden desk, his tongue clucking in a show of impatience when you refused to move. You licked your dry lips, silently wishing you could have a glass of cool water to quench your sudden thirst.

"A-are you serious?" you croaked, finally remembering the lines you had memorized.

"I assure you, I am not the type to joke around."

With his arms crossed, he looked every bit like the imposing figure he was playing as. Gulping audibly, you slowly gathered to your feet. You kept your gaze trained on the polished floorboards, making sure to avoid his probing stare.

"I find that corporal punishment works wonders on troublesome students like yourself. Writing lines for an hour hardly has the same impact." Above you, his low chuckle could be heard. Goosebumps raised to attention as your eyes fluttered to a close.

“Skirt up. Let me see that ass.”

“S-sir.”

“You had no qualms flashing me your filthy cunt the other day. Up, now.”

You hurried to obey, his stern tone jolting you into action. Your fingers reached behind you, hiking the material of the skirt high enough so that your skin was exposed to the cool air. Behind you, Yoongi patted your cheek in mock praise before deftly fitting the hem of your skirt into the band of your waistline so as to keep the fabric in place.

Not expecting him to kick your feet wider apart, you barely managed to stifle your yelp of surprise. You attempted to anchor yourself by clutching the sides of the desk, your legs now stretched too widely apart to be considered decent behavior. The position you were in was humiliating, intended to make you feel vulnerable and exposed.

“Good.”

The single word had your pulse race. His praise felt like a physical caress, and you closed you eyes to let the feeling wash over you.

“Now tell me.” Yoongi’s voice was now deceptively smooth and you knew right away that he was toying with you. “How many misdemeanors was that in one night, hmm?”

You blinked, suddenly remembering that you were supposed to be portraying a misbehaving student. Cursing your lack of focus, your mouth opened as you tried to recall the script. When you took too long to answer, Yoongi went on with the scene, sidestepping your blunder.

“Too many,” he supplied with a sigh, sounding disappointed; whether it was with you for forgetting your lines or with your character, you weren’t sure. Either way, the remorseful look on your face wasn’t extremely hard to fake. You felt nervous again, wondering how well you would be able to perform today.

With an easy yank, your panties fell to the ground, leaving you even more indecently exposed than before. As Yoongi crouched down to peel them off of your body completely, any worries you might have had didn’t seem of much importance anymore. What mattered was the touch of his fingers on the backs of your thighs—cold against your burning skin.

"I wish you could see yourself right now." He mocked, voice laced with something akin to smugness. You felt his hot breath tickle the insides of your knee, the sensation almost enough to make them buckle. "Skirt up, legs spread wide open... So wet and ready for a nice cock between your thighs, isn’t that right?”

The bright lights from overhead spotlighted the acute shame and arousal that raged within you. Both coalesced into one intense emotion that reduced you to a big puddle of desire. You weren't sure if it was his husky tone or the shocking amount of filth that spewed from his lips, but you felt the coil in your stomach tighten with each word leaking into your ear. Your heart raced wildly in your chest, your hands hanging uselessly by your head. His words made you want to hide your face behind your arms, but you knew that wasn’t an option—not when a camera was intent on capturing every shift of your expression.

Your lack of response didn’t seem to deter him for he continued on, merciless with his interrogation.

“Is this turning you on? Do you like being reminded how desperate you are to be stuffed full?"

Every question left you short of breath—you felt each of them like physical thrusts that made the crux of your thighs ache with a need to be filled up. A heavy haze muddled your thoughts. All you could focus on was the throbbing in your core; all you could here was his voice crooning obscenities in the crook of your ear.

"I can see your tight hole clench.” Yoongi let out a disbelieving laugh, the derisive sound making your cheeks bloom pink with embarrassment.

The flush that adorned your cheeks only darkened further when you realized the camera probably had a perfect, unobstructed view of your sopping center. You could only imagine what the sight would look like on screen—your inner thighs glistening from your slick, your lower lips slightly swollen and flushed pink from your obvious arousal. With the way you were bent over the desk, presenting yourself willingly to his hungry stare, you had no doubts that you looked like an expensive dessert ready to be devoured.

"Y-Yoongi, please..." Eyes glassy, you felt yourself clench again as you imagined his dark eyes drinking in the sight of you bent over, wet and ready for him.

"Don't talk to me so informally," he scolded, pinching the inside of your thigh as punishment. A yelp escaped your parted lips—not because it was painful but because you felt a sting of pleasure zap straight to your bundle of nerves like an electric shock. “Address me properly.”

It was easy to give in if it meant you would get what you wanted. “Y-yes, sir.”

“Now, let’s start this again.” Holding your breath in anticipation for what was to come, you struggled to stay still in the position he wanted even though your knees ached. How long were you expected to stay like this? It probably hadn’t been very long, maybe five minutes at the most, but you could already feel the muscles in your thighs straining. “When I ask you a question, I expect a verbal response, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” Thankfully your voice was stable this time. He patted one of your exposed cheeks in praise, the little slap enough to have you wanting more.

Your legs were so spread out that you didn’t notice you were making a mess on the floor until Yoongi brought attention to the drops that spotted the wood, "I'm not even touching you and you're making a mess. What? Pretty boy Kim Taehyung fail to get you off?"

"Maybe he would have if you hadn't interrupted," you bit out, true to the script. Frustration seeped into your every word, but it was more directed at yourself for getting so aroused by his words and actions. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so affected; usually you had to play it up a lot more for the cameras but this time you barely registered the filming crew that stood a few feet away.

"I don't need to touch your dirty cunt for you to cum," he huffed. Although you couldn’t see his expression, you could picture his stare hardening and his lips thinning into a straight line. "You’re soiling my office right now and all it took was for you to offer your pussy to me. You’re proving to be quite the slut tonight. I think I’ll leave you like this, legs open, empty and aching for cock, as your punishment.”

"Wait—no, please!” The desperation in your voice was alarmingly real. You could feel your eyes well with tears of frustration because the prospect of being denied release was simply too cruel to fathom. You didn’t know how long you would be able to endure having nothing filling you up. In every one of your past films, the scene had always had minimal foreplay and little to no plot. Normally at the 5 minute mark, you would have already swallowed his dick down your throat... You weren’t used to having this drag on for so long. Never before had you felt this engaged while shooting a porn scene.

"I don't want you to beg. I want you to apologize—no, to grovel."

Shameless, you whimpered, “I'm sorry. I'm so—please, I'm sorry.”

His hand crashed down on your burning skin with a resounding smack. The unexpected force behind the swat ripped a cry from your throat, the sound raw and primal. Your eyes watered as you panted, breath cut short when he brought his hand down on the opposite cheek.

"And what exactly are you sorry for, slut?"

The hands soothing over the sting contrasted with the unforgiving edge in his voice. You suddenly remembered what Seokjin had said, that you were in capable hands. You believed these words, trusting Yoongi to make the right decisions.

"I'm sorry for sneaking out past curfew."

"What else?"

"I'm sorry for... Sorry for behaving indecently with Taehyung."

"Not specific enough," he chided, his rebuke underscored by a harsh slapping noise.

"I'm sorry! Please, ah, I'm sorry we were kissing. Sorry for letting him—nhh—touch me." With every new admission, he delivered a firm spank to your reddening cheeks. The blows weren’t hard enough to really hurt, but the repeated swats onto your sensitive skin would probably leave a blooming bruise. You couldn’t wait to see the visible reminder of your punishment, the red mark from his hand his personal brand of ownership.

"And where did he dare touch you?" Yoongi’s lips curled into a scowl, his voice low and dangerous.

"My breasts. B-but only over my vest," you were quick to add after sensing Yoongi's form tense over you. "And my—my thighs..." You were desperately trying to remember the lines of the script you had practiced so hard to memorize, but the exact wording kept escaping you with every firm swat of his hand against the globes of your ass.

Yoongi's deafening silence urged you to finish your confession. He rubbed circles over your stinging skin with the palms of his hands, squeezing the soft flesh between his fingers as he waited for you to resume talking.

Taking a shuddering breath, you obliged him, "He—he filled my pussy up with his f-fingers..."

"Did he? And did you enjoy that? Did you like having his long fingers fuck your greedy hole?" He reached down and delved a hand between your legs as he spoke. With a skilled index finger, he ran it across your wet lips tentatively to gauge how ready you were for him. Pausing at your entrance, he swirled his finger around, coating it in your copious amount of arousal. Just one finger was not nearly close enough to the friction you craved. You bucked your hips in response, silently beckoning him for more, as if that would somehow convince him to put an end to the teasing.

Immediately, he chastised you by smacking your sopping wet center. Arching your back, you felt all the air leave your lungs with a drawn out whimper. Echoes of pleasure vibrated throughout your body, from your head to your very toes. Your clit throbbed, swollen with arousal. The tingling sensations made your inner walls clamp down and you found yourself wishing not for the first time for his cock to fill you up.

“Answer me.” Yoongi hissed between his teeth—a warning you didn’t dare ignore.

"Y-yes, yes, I did," you finally responded after struggling to remember the initial question.

"Is that all? Was that all he put inside of you?”

“No.” With a swipe of your tongue, you licked your dry lips.

“No?”

The one word question was enough to know that he wasn’t going to let it go until you elaborated your answer. You squirmed in his hold, your heart pounding as you finally admitted what he wanted to know. “He put his cock in-inside me.”

“You let him fuck you?” The incredulity that colored his tone sounded so genuine you almost believed his act. You shuddered. “I should’ve known a dirty little slut like you wouldn’t be able to keep her legs shut.”

“I’m sorry, sir. Please, p-please fu—” You gulped, your throat dry.

“Speak up, girl!” He snapped, slapping the palm of his hand over your slick center. As soon as his fingers hit your clit, you felt your back arching and your sensitive nipples rub up against the hard, wooden surface of the desk. The searing pain hit all of your nerve endings, effectively rendering you speechless. Meanwhile, your hips futilely chased after his punishing touch, hoping to finally get the satisfaction you were craving for. "Tell me, do you like getting humiliated? I'm trying to punish you but you seem to be enjoying this far too much. I thought that a girl like you would need a firm hand to get her act together, but I think that you need more than that, don’t you?"

"Answer me.” Yoongi punctuated his command with another smack to your lower lips, the sudden blow leaving you dizzy and bereft of coherency.

"Yes—ah fuck, sir please!" Gasping, the feeling of the harsh sting shot straight to your swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves like an electric shock. For a short second, your mind felt blissfully blank as the zap of pleasure traveled through your entire body from one extremity to another. "Please touch me, I need to come!"

"I can see that.” He laughed, spreading out your cheeks out so he could have a better look at the proof of your shame. “Your hole keeps clenching, asking for fingers...or perhaps it needs a nice, thick cock? Hm?"

A whimper left your lips before you could think of subduing it. The thought of finally having him buried deep inside of you was nearly too much to bear. From the way you were bent over and spread wide open, you were basically offering yourself to him. All he had to do was take what was his.

“Please fuck me now,” you moaned, hoping that he would douse the fire between your legs. The need for friction was so unbearable you thought that you would burst at the seams. You tried to undulate your hips in a silent plea for more but his left hand kept you pinned down and immobile to the table.

"I thought as much. What makes you think you deserve mine? Do you honestly think you deserve this cock?” As if to tease you even further, he pressed himself against your exposed backside. Your entire body shuddered as it felt the prominent outline of his erect length through the material of his pants. Even through the layers of fabric, you could tell that he was well endowed. Images of him on screen, feeding his cock to his partner as she begged him to fuck her throat, flashed through your mind. Your mouth watered at the prospect of finally having him in the way that you so desired.

“Please, sir.”

Your mouth was so dry that your plea could barely be heard over the thundering of your heart. Somehow, he had understood your dire need, for he spoke, “Little whores like you should know how to beg for a fucking properly.” His voice was full of disappointment as he stepped away from you. Panicking from the loss of proximity, you hurried to placate him.

“Sir! Please fuck my dirty pussy. Fuck Taehyung’s cum out of my pussy. Please, sir, I’m your slut, only yours, please make your slut cum.”

Your watery plea was met with tense silence, and it was then that you realized that you had said the wrong thing.

“Up,” he ordered, finally breaking the stifling stillness.

Your reactions were somewhat delayed, dizziness dulling your senses and slowing you down. Still feeling unstable, you gripped the edge of the desk, your knuckles turning white. Blood rushed to your head and you had to wait for a few seconds before the spots of light that danced in your vision faded away.

"Naughty sluts don't wear clothes, do they?"

Even though it was clearly a rhetorical question, you replied anyway, head bowed in shame, "No, sir."

Without waiting for his verbal command, you began to strip yourself of the cheap, white blouse. Subconsciously, you made sure to face one of the cameras as you slowly undid the buttons of your top one by one. Normally, you would be acutely aware of how everyone's attention was focused on you, but the only thing you could focus on this time was Yoongi's predatory stare. It was the minute changes in his expression that gave him away—his pupils were blown wide with lust, his nostrils flaring slightly as he drank the sight of you in—and, of course, the bulge in his slacks that he didn't bother to hide.

Next came the skirt. It hadn't been covering much to begin with, but with the way it was bunched up useless at your hips, you didn't feel any more exposed than you previously did once it came off.

Left in only your lacy bra, you played coy, your fingers just barely keeping the flimsy material held up. This part of the scene hadn't been explicitly discussed beforehand, but many things had deviated from the original script. And since nobody had interrupted the two of you yet, you figured that you were allowed to take a few liberties. Instead of feeling confused and lost from the unpredictability of the events, a strange feeling of excitement surged through you. It didn't feel like you were going through practiced motions; you felt wholly engaged in the present. You only had a vague idea of where this was headed and the element of surprise kept you on your toes.

Yoongi, ever in character, was not amused by your games. He clucked his tongue and narrowed his eyes in warning. Tilting his head as if silently asking you 'do you really want to play this game?’ you finally cowered. Your hands fell to your side along with your last material scrap of decency. There was not a single thread to cover you any longer—Yoongi was free to scrutinize every inch of exposed skin without a barrier to block his view. By slipping off your last item of clothing, you had bent yourself to his will and surrendered your body to him.

“On the desk, on your hands and knees. Ass up and hold yourself open for me.”

You scrambled to comply, not wanting to test his patience. Maybe if this was another day, in another place...but here, right now, you felt yourself follow his lead as if your body was on automatic.

The position was somehow even more degrading than the previous one. From this angle, Yoongi now had a better view of your drenched pussy. And by holding yourself open for him, you felt like a willing participant to your own humiliation. Perched on all fours atop the piece of furniture, you felt like just another object of decoration—your sole purpose to be used or admired as pleased.

You felt terribly exposed, but there was no denying the resulting spike of arousal in your stomach. But just as quickly as the burst of desire spiked, it disappeared, leaving you even more sexually frustrated than before.

"CUT!" the director yelled from somewhere behind you. The sudden reminder that you weren't alone, that this wasn't real, made you flinch. It felt like someone had yanked you straight back to reality without forewarning and you were left confused and disoriented, stuck between the truth and fantasy. "Good, you guys are doing good. Let's take a short break. We need to fix the lighting.”

Film breaks weren’t uncommon but you had been so immersed in the scene that you were slow to react. "Fix her makeup before we prep for the second part," came the second set of instructions.

Truthfully, you weren't paying attention; too busy steadying your racing heart. A young woman came forward and blotted the sweat at your hairline with a tissue before reapplying a layer of gloss on your lips and retouching your eyeliner. You barely registered her actions, not focused on your surroundings in the least.

"We're going to stick the bulb inside of you now, okay?"

It took several moments for you to understand that they were talking to you. As the words finally registered, you nodded your agreement.

The strange, artificial mixture felt cold inside of your walls. It was probably the usual stuff they used when they shot creampies, you thought distantly, not caring. Every squirt inside of you made your hips twitch in reaction although there was nothing sexy about this; the clinical approach dampened your arousal and gave you time to clear your mind. Your eyebrows knitted together as you patiently waited for the faux semen to fill you up. They made sure not to shoot it deep inside, so you felt it slowly start to ooze out as soon as the assistant stepped away from you.

"Yoongi, we'll restart from your last line, ‘ass up and hold yourself open for me’, got it? Everyone ready? Scene 2, take 2, aand action!"

Silence fell upon the watching crew members. This way, it was easy to erase their presence and give your attention to Yoongi.

"Hold yourself open for me." Softly, he whispered, his voice smooth like liquid silk.

You reached behind you, fingers gripping your now sore skin, and held yourself open so that he could inspect your pussy. His hot breath fanned over your backside, and it took all of your strength not to squirm away from his proximity.

"Look how easy you are. Head down, ass up like a bitch in heat." Every word had you spiraling deeper into submission. You whimpered, low in your throat, the degrading words making you throb, "I bet Taehyung had no trouble at all sliding in this greedy cunt. You probably asked for it, didn't you? Can't live without something filling this hole up."

"Silly slut," he pinched your throbbing clit, ripping a pained yelp from your throat. "Your pussy is mine. Only I get to cum inside. You take my cum, and only when I think you're worthy enough for my seed."

The thought of belonging to him, of having him use you like his own personal plaything, made your body quiver with desire. More than anything, you wanted him to fuck you good, to take what belonged to him. In that moment, you were his. His voice controlled you, his hands disciplined you, his cock would reward you. Every inch of your pleasure belonged to him.

Your mouth watered—a burning thirst raging inside of you. You were more than convinced you would be willing to do anything to douse the ache that ate away at the remaining bits of your sanity. "I only want your cock, sir. No one gives it to me like you, I can only cum with your cum inside of me."

"Get your fingers nice and wet, slut. Get yourself clean and ready for me."

The slippery fluid inside of you felt no different than cold lube. As your fingers pumped in and out of your tight hole, the mixture spilled out of you, staining the insides of your thighs with opaque white. The mess you were making was of little importance—all of your senses were focused instead on your burgeoning orgasm. Yoongi had already wound you up so tightly that you felt the coil inside of you ready to snap at a moment's notice.

Suddenly you remembered that Yoongi was watching your performance with hawk eyes. Afraid of the consequences you would have to face if you came without permission, you slowed down your movements, hoping he would allow you at least this.

But no such mercy came. The sharp sting on the side of your right cheek made you lurch forward, your knees sliding against the sleek and polished surface. Yoongi's hands were instantly by your hips, grounding you in place. His strong grip made your worries ebb away; you trusted him to keep you from toppling over onto the ground.

The stark contrast between Yoongi’s reassuring touch and the hard edge in his tone was startling. "Is all of his cum out yet? No? Then get back to work," he snapped out his command, his hands now spreading your cheeks wide open so that he and the camera could have a perfect view of your messy pussy. “Look how fucking filthy you are, it’s leaking all over. Just how much cock did you take for it to make so much of a mess?”

You could feel your skin heating up again, his lewd commentary setting you aflame with renewed desire. Your fingers worked the cum-colored lube out of your core, every loud squelch picked up by the cameras. Mouth parted; whine after whine escaped from your lips. Your need for release was becoming more unbearable by the second, and you were reaching that point where the consequences of your actions started to matter little.

“Little slut wants to cum?” The mocking lilt in Yoongi’s voice told you he wasn’t going to let you have it easy. Your head lolled forward, resigning yourself to more of what he had in store for you. “You won’t, and want to know why?”

He wound his fingers through your tresses, before yanking hard. Your scalp burned and you had no choice but to tilt your head back and meet his steely stare. From above, he exuded dominance and authority; his icy expression and firm grip in your hair challenging you to not break eye contact.

“No, sir,” you rasped, finding it hard to form the words with the way your head was bent backwards.

“You won’t because dirty whores can only cum with a fat cock inside of them, isn’t that right?” He spat, his features twisting almost as if he was disgusted with you.

But you knew that was far from the truth. After all, you weren’t blind to the way his pupils were dilated—only a thin circle of brown was left, the hunger in his eyes having eclipsed the rest. His nostrils flared when you mewled in response to the humiliation—another visible sign of his arousal. You knew he wanted you, but the problem was that he, unlike you, had perfect control over his desire.

Try as you might, it was impossible to taper the need pulsing between your thighs. You craved it as much as the air you breathed.

“I can only cum if I have you inside me,” you sobbed, giving in completely. Any reservations were gone; you knew you would do anything to please this man. Hand still buried in your cunt, you begged, “My pleasure is yours, sir. I’m want—only want your thick cock inside of me, please take what’s yours. I’m yours, just yours. I’m a dirty slut, please u—use me.”

Shivers wracked through your frame when you heard him slide down his zipper. All of your senses were trained on him, your body reacting to even the slightest rustle of clothes.

“Good slut.” The silken croon made its way to your ears and you closed your eyes, letting the praise wash over you. “Let me see if your cunt’s ready for me.” When Yoongi easily replaced your fingers with his own, you instantly felt the stretch. He crooked his digits inside of you, listening to your needy whimpers with relish. Two fingers quickly became three, the force of his thrusts never slowing down.

“I’m going to fuck you from behind, slut. But that’s how you like it, don’t you?” You sniffled, not trying to refute the claim. To be taken from behind like some animal in heat, forced to submit to the brunt of his passion... When he phrased it like that, it sounded so humiliating, so degrading. Here you were, bent and kneeling on a desk, your naked ass perked up for his viewing pleasure, just like the common slut he was accusing you of being. “Like a good little bitch.”

You didn’t deny his accusations because you knew it to be true. Your breasts only got this sensitive if you were ovulating or if you were really turned on. And there was no use denying the former, not with the way your cunt was shiny and drenched with your own fluids.

“Bend over the desk properly if you want to get fucked.”

Never before had you completed a task with so much enthusiasm. You stretched your limbs out, your feet finding purchase on the ground while your hands gripped the edge of the desk. Excitement pooled in your gut; you had never felt so eager for a fucking before. You were unsure how much time had passed since the start of the shoot, but it somehow felt like lifetimes ago. You had been ready for his cock half a century ago.

It seemed like Yoongi was done dawdling around as well. He eased the tip of his cock inside of you. There was so much of your slick and lube, that it took two, three tries before successfully pushing in. You let out a shaky breath, body shuddering. Above you, Yoongi let out a grunt, his hands kneading your reddened flesh between his fingers. He kept you open for him, his attention fixed on the way your warm walls gripped his head snugly, eager to be fed more. Unable to form coherent words, you clenched around him, attempting to draw him in deeper.

“A perfect plaything, letting me use her up however I want.” His words cut off into a growl as he bottomed out, his balls slapping against you. Your eyes watered, the girth of his hardened shaft stretching you out deliciously. Sweat beaded at your brow as you struggled to stay still for him, wanting him to use you as he pleased.

Yoongi started up an easy rhythm, each of his thrusts making you slide across the surface of the desk. You felt stimulated from all over—you stiff nipples rubbed against the polished wood while his cock worked its way inside of you. Expletives intermingled with the occasional praise; and his grunts of satisfaction coaxed out your moans of pleasure.

“Tell me, can Taehyung fuck you this good?”

Distantly, you recognized this as a line from the script and your body reacted as if on auto-pilot. “No one can fuck me as good as you.”

“Is that right? Then why did you let him inside your cunt?” A deep thrust made you choke out a high-pitched moan, the sound slutty even to your own ears. He stayed buried deep inside of you, but you barely had time to catch your breath before he tightened his fingers around your locks and pulled. Using the grip in your hair to guide you into the position he desired, he yanked you upwards, your shaking arms now propping your upper body up.

“B-because I’m a slut,” you admitted, your head hanging low in shame. You weren’t even sure if it was an act or not, but the words seemed to spur him on even more, his thrusts speeding up once again. “I like having cum inside of me.”

“A cumslut, huh?” You struggled to stay propped up, but every harsh piston of his hips made stability difficult to maintain. “Can’t go without a man’s cum filling you up. You like being a cumdump for men that much?”

“O-only yours, only for you.”

“That’s right. I own this slutty cunt.” Yoongi brought his mouth close to your ear, his teeth biting your lobe before mouthing down the side of your neck. As he left a trail of hot kisses down the column of your neck, he brought his hands up to cup your breasts, feeling them bounce in his hold with every slap of his hips against your own. You felt his breathing becoming ragged, the sound doing things to your insides.

He sunk his fingers in the supple flesh, probably leaving another set of marks to match the ones on your hips and ass, and used his hold as leverage to fuck into you faster. Every thrust inside you knocked the breath out of you—your desire spiraling to new heights with each whispered word into your ear. The pleasure started to become too much to bear and you clenched around his length to signal your approaching orgasm.

“You’re gonna cum already? Should’ve known a slut like you wouldn’t be able to control herself when fed the right cock.” He didn’t slow down at all, his cock impaling you over and over again with no reprieve in sight. You knew if he kept this up, you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself back anymore.

“Please sir, let me cum,” you begged, your plea coming out in short pants. You didn’t know which one would give out first—your legs or your arms. The only thing that kept you upright and standing were Yoongi’s hands kneading your breasts and his hips pinning yours to the desk.

Yoongi released your nipple with a hard tug, the free hand snaking up to your parted mouth. Instinctively, your lips wrapped around the invading digits, sucking it like it would a cock. “So greedy. You don’t get to make the demands here, slut. But I’ll be nice today because you took your spanking so well. Go on then, little slut.”

The fact that you couldn’t even see the fact of the person who was stuffing two of your holes made the fucking so impersonal. A new wave of shame swept over you, and you felt like you could drown in it. Your body thrashed in his hold, a lightning bolt of pleasure zapping through your entire body and making you starry-eyed. Your entire world shrunk, until all you knew was him and the thick cock spearing you open.

Yoongi’s hips stuttered, his own release in reach. You felt his length twitch inside you but he quickly pulled out, his right hand stroking his slick shaft in furious strokes. You barely registered the first spurt of semen land on your well fucked pussy, the rest of his seed painting your lower lips in fields of white.

The force of your orgasm wiped you out and you took a few seconds to regain your bearings, eyes still closed, blocking out the outside world.

It took several moments for you to be brought back to reality, spots of light still dancing in your vision whenever you blinked. Your chest heaved from exertion, your eyes watery. Your body felt incredibly light, like you could float away from the ground at any moment like a hot air balloon.

“____?” Someone repeated your name, trying to snap you out of your daze by shaking your shoulders. “Here’s some water.” A set of arms helped you sit up, and a cold glass of water was pushed into your numbed hands. “You did so well! There was no reason to be nervous, I knew you would do great.”

Belatedly, you realized that it was your agent speaking to you. He wrapped your shoulders in a pink, fluffy bathrobe—the soft fabric a welcome comfort. Seokjin showered you in praises, asking if you need anything more, but his voice faded into white noise. Your eyes flitted around the room, restless, searching.

As if feeling the weight of your gaze on him, Yoongi looked up from his phone and smiled at you. Even if his cheeks were flushed pink and his hair matted with sweat, he looked infinitely more composed than you felt. Biting the inside of your cheek, you wondered how you could possibly approach him.

A faint buzzing pulled you from your train of thought. When you looked down, you saw a message light up the screen of your phone. Your thumb swiped the surface so that the newest message could fill up the entire screen.

[unknown number] : hey. i cant wait to work with you again ;-)

[edit: short continuation.]

Although your body was thoroughly sated, there was still an eagerness that hadn’t been completely quashed. You were still drunk off your high, your body now hooked to Yoongi’s touch. You wanted a repeat. Badly.

After the initial swell of elation had ebbed, you steadied your trembling fingers to type out a hurried reply. Thank God for autocorrect was your first coherent thought. You weren’t sure if your inability to spell the simplest of words was because of your stubby thumbs or because Yoongi had fucked every last feeling out of your body, leaving you numb all over. Did it even matter? The end result was the same, either way.

A minute passed. Your thumbs stumbled across the keyboard in your rushed attempt to correctly type out your response. It took another two tries before you finally succeeded in writing a message that was 1) free of spelling mistakes and 2) simultaneously made your intentions obvious (a flirtatious winky face included for good measure). However right before you were about to hit ‘send’, a new set of vibrations put a halt to your actions.

[unknown number] : i’m jimin btw. :) the 2nd AC.

What?

[unknown number] : you look really pretty on camera :)

[unknown number] : and in real life too! not just on camera.

[unknown number] : sorry if i sound so forward. but it’s been a long time sinc—

Your brain screeched to a halt as more messages flooded in, one right after the other.

Jimin…the second assistant cameraman?

(edit added 12.08)

ɛ sequel here ! ᴈ

#legit not proofread bc i cant look at it anymore dkfljdfk #this was originally supposed to be 6k but idk what happened mY HAND SLIPPED #this is.............#just filth lmao #i have no excuses #bts smut #yoongi smut #yoongi

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sithlordintraining · 6 years

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BEYCHELLA 2018

A/N: Because my hair still hasn’t grown back and to be honest I could go off and give detail about everything but I was like I don’t have time for that.

Summary: Kylo “I got fuxking money” Organa-Solo takes his unapologetically black girl/friend to Beychella VIP status

Warning: cursing.

Kylo’s fingers strummed against the table you were sitting at; your dark eyes were glued to the screen of your Mac. “I’m going to Coachella with Rey, Finn, and Poe.” He said and you just ok’d him unbothered. “And...so are you.” The badge popped up in right hand corner of your screen for an airdrop. The words that he said didn’t process but when you saw the photo of the ticket, you turned to look at him. “Wha-Why, Kylo?” You were confused but were smiling. You watched as his large body shrugged his broad shoulders, looking like an oversized child as a blush filled his cheeks. “I-I just thought you would like to go with m-us. I know you usually go to Panorama, so I thought you would enjoy it.” Kylo said avoiding eye contact. “Thanks, Kylo. I mean I don’t know what to say.” You were in such a shock, your brows were still furrowed. “That you’ll go, please.” He joked. “Yeah, yeah of course. How much do I owe you? I’ll Venmo you right now.” Your fingers moved quickly against the keyboard. “Nothing Y/N, it’s my treat.” Your eyes found his brown irises that you loved to compliment him about. “Don’t give me that look Y/N, I mean it.” You would be lying if you didn’t like him paying for everything, but he was spoiling you and he wasn’t even your boyfriend! “Fine!” You rolled your eyes. “When is it so I can block out my days at work?”

“It’s Saturday, April 14th. I could only afford one day, sorry. But if you want, we can go the whole weekend and I can show you California.” Kylo’s rich voice was soft as he spoke to you. He knew you had never been and he would love to show you, Cali, just like you had helped when Rey visited New York. Plus, if he could just get you alone for a weekend in his element, maybe he would finally be able to tell you how he feels. “I guess,” you teased never really being a fan of the West Coast, besides the rap. “Let’s see this lineup.” Kylo bit his bottom lip knowing that his plan would work. He watched your eyes widen at the screen. “BEYONCE?!” You turned to look at him with a wide smile plastered on your face. He broke out in a giggle. “You look like the meme,” Kylo said. “Shut up!” You punched his arm. “But seriously though, Beyonce? Oh my God, we are going to see you Beyonce!” His lips tugged up because he loved seeing your smile and knowing that he caused it, made him happier. You wouldn’t consider yourself a die-hard Beyhive member, but as a former dancer and performer, you respected the woman and gave credit where credit was due. She was the best living entertainer of this generation and most influential person; not to mention her music has gotten you through a lot and she was Blue Ivy’s mom. “Oh my God, what am I going to wear?!” You screeched as you maniacally hit the keys on the laptop. Kylo just chuckled before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Alright, see you later.” “Bye Ky, thank you so much.” You looked up at him with a happy pout. “Anything for you, kid.” He smiled and was on his way.

All of Friday, Kylo took you to see his California. Everyone could go down Rodeo Drive or see the Hollywood sign, but he wanted to show you a side to California that almost made you want to stay. But Saturday came fairly quick and you were waking up to the smell of pancakes. You strolled downstairs to see Kylo behind the island. “Good Morning,” You said. Kylo turned to see you in your cute little PJs and head scarf. “Good Morning, Y/N.” He plated the bacon. “Where’s Rey and everyone?” You asked. “They left already.” He handed you your plate. “I thought we could just chill and get ready until Beyonce,” Kylo told you. “You act like I’m going to take long.” You rolled your eyes eating the bacon. “Of course not sweetheart. But, I know it’s a time zone difference and you would like to perfect your baby hairs.” He teased. You gave him a death look. “I know you’re joking but the hairs are a serious thing.” You stuck your tongue out. “What time does she perform?” “At 11pm.” Kylo told you. “11? Oh, Bey, I’m going to need a nap, we have like 12 hours to waste.” You wore a silk and lace yellow cami with crystal embellished high-waisted shorts and the big purchase that you had been saving just for the concert: Miu Miu Matelasse leather belt bag. Expensive and trendy? Yes. But you could also wear it as just a belt or a clutch. Your tongue pressed against the back of your teeth as you focused on laying your baby hair down perfectly. Kylo stood at the door just watching you with a small smile on his lips. He knew how he felt about your curls. Looking in the mirror, you saw the weirdest sight. “Are you wearing a-” You turned to see his muscles under the ‘Beyhive Boys’ shirt and his dark hair braided back in a bun. You couldn’t help but laugh at how cute and out of his element he looked. “I don’t want to be out of place.” Kylo sat down on the toilet and held out be stickers. “What is this?” You took it from him. “I’m going to put them on my body.” Kylo was the master of being emotionless, so when you saw his straight face say this and you busted out laughing. “You’re so cute!” Kylo opened his legs as you engulfed him in a hug. His arms wrapped around you tightly, nuzzling into your belly. “Alright, Mr. Knowles lets put these bees on you.”

Walking the festival grounds, you held Kylo’s hand as you took in everything. Never have you ever thought you would be at Coachella or see Beyonce or be with Kylo in this type of setting. Kylo always like it for it to be just you two and you thought it was so sweet that he spent the time and money to think about you like this. “We are meeting them here.” Kylo stopped as he looked around for his cousin and friends. Soon, both were able to make out the sound of laughter from the famous trio. “BEN!” Rey screamed running to him but then quickly shifted to you. “Y/N YOU LOOK SO GOOD!” She ran to hug you. Poe and Finn approached Kylo. “Woah, aren’t you ready for Queen Bey?” Poe said. Kylo just rolled his eyes. “And Miss thing came to slay over here.” Finn's hands moved up and down and in a praising gesture. Y/N laughed at Finn’s ridiculousness. “Come on, let’s get some pictures and fun in before Beyonce stops the world.” Rey grabbed your hand and everyone followed. You had such an amazing time and took so many great pics with your friends. Not to mention Kylo, you thought Kylo was so beautiful, not just on the outside, and you wish he could see that. The group made their way to the main stage. “We are going this way.” Kylo tugged your hand that almost never left his. “Dude, what? We are going to be in the back already, where could we possibly go?!” He could tell you were getting anxious and frustrated. “We’ll catch you guys later,” Kylo told the trio as he led you to a secluded section. It was heavily guarded and made you confused. “Can I see some ID?” The man asked and the pair showed him. Soon he was letting them in and handing them lanyard.

Thanking the man, you read the laminated card. “BEYCHELLA!” You squeaked. “Oh my God Kylo, how the fuck did you do this?” Kylo just shrugged. “I guess it pays to have my mom be a famous Senator,” Kylo told you. Kylo had money, so you weren’t surprised that you both had VIP bands for the festival but this was another level. “This is crazy!” Both of your hands wrapped around his as you beamed up at the tall figure. Kylo looked down to see you glowing and not just your skin, but your whole aura. He loved every moment of you taking him by the hand and leading him to a good spot to see both stages. You stopped in front of the gate and looked at him. “Oh my God, that’s Jourdan Dunn!” You whispered. He turned to see a couple of models that you followed and he grabbed both your hands smiled down at you. “You’re so cute.” Now it was your time to hide your blushing expression, wrapping your arms tightly around him. With other people filling into the little VIP area, you tried your best to keep it cool, but and you and Kylo caught everyone’s attention. Two beautiful Beyonce-themed people, everyone thought you were the cutest couple, Kylo was very surprised when people wanted pictures. Of you, he was not; you were his Naomi Campbell and he loved seeing and watching you take pictures. But him it was different, he wasn’t as photogenic as you. With some hyping and a few of you, he was able to show off his Queen Bey outfit. “Just letting you know, I’m not apologizing for my actions and if you don’t want to be my friend anymore, it’s fine ‘cause baby girl finna turn up!” You told him.

Soon all the lights were dimming and screams filled the air. Kylo heard you gasp as the surrounding phone screens illuminated your face. His dark eyes memorized your childlike expression waiting for the show to start. The spotlight illuminated a female drummer as she began tapping. “Oh, my God.” You whispered. A whistle blew and the beat dropped, the dancers began to move and exposed Beyonce in all her royal garb. Y/N’s mouth hung open as she couldn’t believe what she watches. Her eyes fell to the main stage where she saw the bleachers and the band. “OH MY GOD IT’S A FUCKING HBCU, SHE’S FUCKING TAKING US TO COLLEGE!” Y/N screamed and Kylo chuckled. He knew that when you were little you wanted to go to an HBCU and you wanted to be a line dancer, sometimes you regretted not going and that would make Kylo sad because he met you here in college and he couldn’t even FATHOM you not being in his life. Even if he had only known you for a little less than a year. Kylo’s eyes went from you to the top of the bleachers seeing Beyonce. “That’s from the fucking Wiz, woah okay, bitch take me all the way black!” He heard you say. The beat dropped and Beyonce began to move. “Coachella are you ready?” “YASSS! IT’S FUCKING CRAZY IN LOVE” He heard you say. He just stared in awe as the show commenced. He never really watched for Beyonce until now and he had to admit, the price was worth it and the show just started.

“She’s line dancing, she better not sit-wow, she’s fucking my life up.” Y/N said she could feel the adrenaline rush through her as the performance went on. You stuck your tongue out and began to twerk when they remixed Crazy in Love with Back Dat Ass Up. Kylo looked at you for a brief second before a blush hit his face and continued to watch the dancers do the same thing. It started to slow down as she moved to the next song. Your hands flew to your face. Kylo’s brows furrowed as he gently pulled you to him. “You okay? What happened?” Y/N turned up to look at him with glossy eyes. “She’s singing Lift Every Voice and Sing. That’s the Black national anthem.” She hadn’t heard that song in years! From pre-school to middle school she went to an all-black and very pro-black school that celebrated the culture. So hearing this definitely invoked some nostalgic emotions for her. But the tears fell away as Formation came on and Kylo knew how much you LOVED that song. “Are we swag surfin’ again?” You began to dance and took Kylo’s arms and did the same. “YASS BEY!” He stood there smiling torn between watching Beyonce perform and the girl he was in love with being so happy and carefree.

“Kylo those are Les Twins!” She shook his shoulders which prompted him to tear his eyes from her to the stage. The beat for Partition dropped and you were living and soon filtered into Yonce which got you hyped because Jourdan, Joan, and Chanel were in your section and if you were living, you know they were living. Check On It started to play and you swore if they weren’t already, your edges were GONE! “Check On It like Pink Panther, bitch throwback to my fucking Disney MP3 Player!” You screamed. You haven’t heard that song in years, but you still knew the lyrics. “Oh, Shit!” They both said in unison as Jay-Z walked on the stage. “If Blue comes out, I’m done, I’ll be done.” Kylo threw his head back laughing because you LOVED that little girl more than you loved her parents. The girls and Beyonce came back with their army fatigue and you felt so stupid for not realizing what this was leading up to when three silhouettes rose from the stage. Hands flew into your hair as you screamed. Kylo jumped definitely not expecting that. But, never in your twenty-two years of life did you think you would get the chance to see this. You remember playing Destiny’s Child and telling people you were Beyonce and they weren’t. Young Y/N was going off; Kelly, Bey, and Michelle were right there looking fine as ever and better than most of the artist that we have now! You haven’t heard good harmonies like that in a minute. “Woah, the boots are falling, somebody’s getting fired.” If that wasn’t enough, Solange came running out. “WHAT?!” You screamed as they danced to Get Me Bodied. “THIS IS AMAZING!”

You don’t know why you underestimated Beyonce by thinking it couldn’t get better than this but when Single Ladies started you were breaking out the dance moves that were in your muscle memory. Kylo couldn’t help admire you dancing with the same energy as the dancers on stage. He knew about Single Ladies so he flipped his hand just like Beyonce which made you laugh. You hugged his side and he wrapped his arms around you, hopefully, you wouldn’t be single any longer once he finally worked up the nerve. Beyonce began to talk and sang Love On Top. With your arms still wrapped around him tightly, you began to sing the song, Kylo’s head rested atop your head. They continued to watch Beyonce snatch wigs and life from everyone at Coachella. Beyonce said her thank yous and left the stage. Everyone began to exit still on a high. Kylo led you out. “You enjoyed yourself?” He asked walking to the meet-up with the trio. You nodded still reveling in what just happened. The ride back to the house you were silently snuggled up with Kylo; Rey, Finn, and Poe didn’t mind as they were drunk and talking about God knows what.

When you entered the house everyone went to bed except you and Kylo, who was chilling in the living room. “That was amazing, I’ve never seen a show like that and it wasn’t even her concert,” Kylo told you. “Yeah,” You said silently with a smile. Kylo observed the small smile on your face as tears filled your eyes. “A-Are you okay?” He moved closer to you. “Yeah, I just,” You wiped your tears as you giggled. “You might think it’s silly, but watching her, watching THAT performance, that was me. It was for me, it was for us.” Kylo didn’t need you to explain what you meant; he remembers all the times you complained about going to see Solange and all the whites being at the front of the stage and not showing her enough love, how it wasn’t fair for them or you, and how she had made you feel as a black woman. “No, I don’t think it’s silly.” Kylo shook his head. “It’s just, that was my culture. Like the bands, the frats, the line, the songs; I wanted to go to Hampton like my Uncle and be a dancer and perform at the shows that we used to go see. And the Nina Simone, Malcolm X excerpts and the anthem-like.” You rolled your eyes as more tears fell. “I’m getting goosebumps just thinking about it.” You show him your arms. “She turned the whitest festival black.” Kylo joked and you laughed. “Totally, but I mean she made history, we witnessed history and she infused it with our history. After everything, this was for us by us. Thank you for allowing me to see this.” You turned to him and smiled. Kylo brushed the fallen curls out of your face.

“I’m just happy that you’re happy. You make me so happy Y/N and I couldn’t think of a better way to express how thankful I am for being my friend and just putting up with me.” Kylo said. “So you take me to the most anticipated show since 2017? I must mean a lot to you. I’m forever indebted to you.” You laughed. His fingers combed through his hair as he let out a shaky breath not knowing how to say his next words. “You can be my girlfriend.” He said and you threw your head back in laughter which confused him. “You didn’t have to take me to see Beyonce to be your girl, but I’ll take it.” Hands cradled his face as they nuzzled their noses together. Two pairs of dark eyes held a heavy stare. His large hands softly gripped your waist. His full lips touched yours as he pulled you closer. Kylo couldn’t believe this whole night was real. He felt her soft lips fall into a smile as he continued to leave kisses on her lips. He pulled back to see her blushing expression. Her head fell into the crook of his neck as he pulled her into a bear hug and pulled you on top of him. “Thank you, Beyonce!” Kylo sighed looking down at his favorite person in the whole world.

tagged: @rebeccamaximoff @hoe-for-kylo

P.S: Y’all better read this lmao

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noexit-ff · 6 years

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46.

Placing the diapers in the baby changing bag, my ears perked up hearing Junior cry “Chris! What are you doing to my baby in the bath?” Chris is in that mood to annoy Junior today “he ruined sex for us, I am just annoying him” Chris said back to me “mhmmm leave him alone, he just wanted his parents” zipping the changing bag up, I am glad we came home last night because honestly I was tired from dragging the gown around, Chris undressed me and we had nothing but sex last night. We tried to have sex in the morning but it didn’t work out “it’s ok, mommy is coming to save you Junior” shuffling myself towards the bathroom “he’s ok now” Chris and Junior are both in the bath “I can tell, you have bubbles on his head, clearly he’s ok” Junior smiled at me started kicking his legs, the water splashing as he did which caused him to stop “you did that” Chris said smiling down at him, sitting down at the side of the bathtub. Junior is ever so intrigued by the bubbles, moving the bubbles away from his head “it’s such a lovely day today, I just want to have a nice little outing to Central Park, show Junior the outside world with the bodyguards of course but Noella and Majesty are coming. We about to have a nice little picnic as a family” Chris lifted Junior up from the water “my son really got rolls but you famous now, baby breezy they calling you” Chris faced Junior towards himself, with both hands holding him Chris laid him lightly down in the water. Junior started kicking and moving his arms “maybe we should take him classes for swimming, he likes it in the water” god, I just want to give Junior the world. Just staring at my own son, I am so in love.

I was going to dress Junior but Chris wanted to do it “quit kicking your legs around” Junior seems to be in a very good mood though, Junior clenched his fist staring at Chris because he is not letting Chris put his shorts on “Robyn, we about to have problems, my own son wants to fight me” sitting on the bed slowly “you have done nothing but annoy my baby now he is getting you back” Junior turned his head to the side “I am here baby, I won’t let daddy be mean to you” Junior unclenched his fist smiling at me “mommys face makes you happy, I know. I love you too” placing my finger in his hand “why you acting like he hates me?” Chris said “I didn’t say anything like that, you are the one annoying” Chris finally put his shorts on “no, don’t be putting my finger in your mouth now” moving my finger back “that is because he didn’t let me bust a nut. I was at the climax, so close too” I sighed out “I know, but think about how much we have been having sex. We will have more” he is dramatic “Maurice got little boobs though, he fat. You a fat little nigga” side eyeing Chris “are you ever going to stop?” Junior is just a little chubby, he is a big baby “nope, he got big ole leg rolls too” pushing Chris away “go away now, I will dress him” my poor son is getting abuse because Chris couldn’t bust a nut “maybe it’s all that breast milk, that is what is making him fat” I wasn’t even a big baby but Junior must have got all the best nutrients “it’s just baby fat, you let your dad know how handsome you going to be. He just jealous that he is all skin and bone, you are going to be all muscle and handsome” getting up from the bed “with a long dick, you ain’t mention that shit!” Chris shouted.

Wiping the side of Junior’ mouth with the towel, placing the towel down and pulling my top down. I am so glad he fell asleep, I didn’t think he would have but he did fall asleep because he usually likes to stay awake and play for a while “do you ever stop feeding him? He is always on your nipple” Chris walked back into the room “I wanted him to sleep and he is, I just want him to be more alert when we go out that is all. Seriously, stop saying that Junior is fat” he is offending me now, that is my baby. Placing Junior over my shoulder and slowly shuffling off the bed “I am playing, you called me skin and bones” walking by Chris “I did but my son is a little on the chubby side and I don’t like him being called fat” slowly placing him in the crib “ssssshhh baby” his face scrunching up “please don’t cry” placing his blanket over him “Jen is here” Chris said “and I am sorry, he’s my fat boy too. He’s cute and chubby, I love it” turning around looking over at Chris “mhmm” poking my lips out “can’t wait for Junior to cuss you out when he grows” I know that will be happening.

Hugging Jen as I yawned out “the woman that left the building for sex” busting out laughing “Chris get that!!” someone is ringing the room phone, sitting down on the couch “god, it was a good night though. I did enjoy myself but I just wanted to go home, I felt like I couldn’t enjoy my son either because he was so confused with my face. But I saw some pictures, that picture of Chris, ASAP and Junior, so cute. Then I didn’t know Junior met half of the celebrities there, Kanye actually held a child, picture with Kim” Jen gasped “no, did you see the picture of him with Zayn Malik? He was smiling with him so wide, Chris really out here with his son. But the pictures are very cute and have made such a hit, I had a little nod from someone that called him photogenic” Jen stopped speaking as Majesty ran shouting “auntie!” She ran around the couch “oh my big girl, look at you” catching her as she jumped at me “hey ladies, I caught up with Dennis on the way here” Noella said, hugging Majesty close “missed you so so much” pressing kisses to her cheek “I miss you too auntie” Noella leaned down kissing my cheek “long time hoe, you look so good. Oh my god, I am shaking. I was shaking let me say, you looked so beautiful, fuck me. Chris came out looking like he was getting married again but god, you slayed the whole night. People are shook, the ladies are shaking” Noella said as she sat down, fixing Majesty on my lap “thank you, that gown got me so tired that I came home” Jen scoffed “a damn lie, she wanted the D but anyways, Dennis my boy is here” Jen said changing the subject “I just asked him to video us having sex, like take pictures. What do you think?” side eyeing Chris “I rather he not do that thank you Chris, just sit down and not say another word” I know he has asked Dennis that.

I don’t know what Dennis and Chris are speaking about but they seem to be in deep conversation “so, the brown family are on every blog. I am getting offers left, right and centre. I just woke up to a lot, I am still trying to go through them but Vogue seemed to be offering the best. They want to do a family photoshoot, they want Chris in the interview and I think that is the best one. Offering the most money. And oh my god, get Chris Junior a fucking agent he’s chubby self gathering contracts. He’s Chris Brown and Rihanna son, handsome son and people want a piece but I got a few things, Armani Junior is one but I need to read the rest” my son is actually getting contracts, look at him “that picture of him with ASAP, his eye colour looks sharp as fuck. I think he was just staring but that flash got him” Noella said “mhmm I need to think about that but the Vogue is a big maybe, I think it will be a yes. But we need to sort the Christening out, god. We have done nothing, we are doing it in LA and that is it. Things happened and I am just going to have to bring the family here and Chris needs to deal with the house being busy, Junior hasn’t really met all of the family and I want him to know them all. Be close to them, no matter what every year Barbados is going to be a place where we stay for a few weeks” I want Junior close to them.

“How are you just that bitch! I really hate you” Noella spat “fuck this bitch, how has this bitch just walked out of her bedroom looking like a whole meal with a god damn baby on her hip” Noella won’t stop “I am barely that ready, I just found it” Noella clapped her hands doing a little run towards Junior and I “look at his little patch of curls, I want him” Noella took Junior from me “baby, mommy it’s baby. Oh na na baby” Majesty spat pointing, I am glad everyone is here “nice to see your legs out honey, I am here for the black skin tight dress and trench coat” smiling at Yusef “I said it’s not child friendly, we going to a damn park” here comes Chris “oh be quiet you, we want to see boobs, ass legs, vagina. It’s been a long time coming and my girl is finally happy to show those juicy thighs” I feel my cheeks heating up but then Junior sure stopped my moment “no, you can’t cry to mommy. I am your family too, you leave her” Noella walked off with Junior crying, I knew he would have cried with her but he needs to get used to it “you just mad I look good” I said to Chris “you damn right, I am watching niggas. Out here trying to get my woman and shit” he wouldn’t stop saying that in the bedroom “I am after her Chris” Jen smirked at Chris “see I don’t mind that, both of you at the side of me. I can deal but no other men” I already have two men, I don’t need more if he thinks I am even interested.

New York paparazzi are just so annoying, they done blocked off the front “I rather just go back upstairs, I am not having being pushed” I am done already, we are in the lobby and it’s just busy “we can do this but we just need to do it in different stages, right?” Rich said to Cass “yeah, so if Rihanna goes out with Jen, Noella and Majesty. Chris you come out after with the baby. The second SUV pull up and the rest will follow on. That way we can just make sure Chris is good with the baby, we can do it” Cass is right we can just do that “ok fine, I just want to take my son outside so he can see some things. This is annoying” I don’t want that for him, to be followed and shit I just want him to have a life and see things “so come on, let’s start” sucks, now I have to leave my son behind. Walking over to Chris “don’t let them push you out there, it’s like I am staring at myself when I look at you my handsome son” touching the side Junior’ face, he is going to be quiet because he has his pacifier in his mouth “come on you” I held my hand out the Majesty “Auntie, baby there” she pointed behind her, I hope to god we can just lose them or they may just stay out here.

The SUV door closed and I breathed out a sigh of relief that everyone is in the car “how did you even slip yo ass into this car?” I said to Dennis, I swear he was supposed to go into the second SUV “Chris told me to follow him so I did” Chris shifted on to the side with Junior on his lap, he is so quiet which I love “are you videoing?” I questioned, Dennis has not put the camera down “yeah he is, I told him I want him to do some videoing for me. I just want some things for the fans, Anthony and I are doing a few things for the tour so yeah, I am bringing a new album out again too. I want there to be footage of things, I hired yo cameraman for me, so in real terms you’re paying him for me” no wonder they was speaking “who said I pay Dennis? I could pay him in nudes? You don’t know that” I retorted “ha ha, sure. You barely give me nudes” frowning at Chris “I mean what is the point in giving you nudes when you see me in real life all of the time?” he is so stupid, Chris side eyed me “Maurice you are so stank, I think he done a dirty diaper or he farted on me” Chris need to quit holding Junior like that “stop holding him like he is trash, he has probably farted on you” Chris held Junior out to himself “nah, does anybody want a nasty child. That is foul” Jen giggled at the side of me “you are so protective, like a lioness with a cub. You are about to pounce on him” I am so ready to slap the back Chris’ head.

Tightening the side of the strap on the baby carrier “I have waited for this moment for so long, to see you in one of these and look at that” moving back a little “do I look good? You think I could pull another female now? Act like a nigga that don’t know what he doing with a baby?” Cass laughed with Chris “the only two idiots laughing right now, just look at me. Don’t move” taking the picture of them both “awww yes, I am so damn happy. I got my picture of Chris with a baby carrier on, I have been wanting to see this for years, I mean I knew evetually he would be my baby daddy” I laughed saying aloud “do not put that in what ever video Chris is doing” walking back over to Chris “do I look good? Show me? I am actually getting a shoulder ache, the weight of him” kissing Junior’ forehead “leave him, you picked my pregnant ass up stop playing” I am so happy to just spend some family time with my husband and baby.

Pulling a face, I am legit bored “little nigga you need to grow up so we can do better things. Your momma is boring” looking down at Maurice, he squinted his eyes at me “we are touring flowers, who the hell cares that flowers are blooming. I don’t, do you?” I don’t think Maurice does either, looking up at the weirdos I call family taking pictures of flowers “having fun?” Cass asked “nope, not at all” Cass chuckled “you do know that no man enjoys family time. This is more of a women’s thing, we are just there. I mean what can we say, it’s the little things” Maurce head butted my chain, looking down at him “you knew it was there” he scrunched his face up ready to cry “ok, ok. It’s ok. You don’t need to cry, look at what momma is doing. Shall I push her over the barrier?” standing behind Robyn, she is crouched down and is very into this flower shit. I really want to push her “see, no need to cry. You just stupid” looking down at Robyn’ booty “booty looking good enough to eat” I said aloud “you eat booty!” Majesty repeated, my eyes bulged out “noo, don’t say that” how shameful “see what your stupid mouth gets” I hope she forgets that “come here, crouch down” Robyn said, crouching down at the side of Robyn “look at this baby, look how beautiful they are. The tour guide said some weird name but I love the purple” smiling at Robyn being so into this “you are an actual boring person now” Robyn bought the flower closer to Maurice “I don’t think he about to touch it, he thinks it’s weird” he ain’t about that flower life, hearing a snap in my ear and looking at Robyn as she gasped “oh my god you broke it!” I spat “shut up” she hit my leg with the flower in her hand, busting out laughing “your momma ain’t shit, that poor momma flower going to be looking for it” Robyn looks so upset but it’s hilarious.

Holding Robyn’ hand as we walked to this castle “I actually broke the flower for you” Robyn held it out to me “oh no, don’t be putting that on me. You broke it and now trying to get me to hold it, how do you think that flower is going to feel when she sees her child gone, look at the lifeless thing” Robyn hit my shoulder with the flower “I honestly hate you, how can one be so annoying” she loves me really “excuse me, ma’am!” I shouted waving my hand at the tour guide, the lady turned around “what are you doing?” Robyn asked “is it normal for people to take souvenirs? My wife has stole a flower and I just wanted to be truthful” the lady stared at Robyn but broke into a smile “I heard Chris teasing you earlier, it’s fine” Robyn is so embarrassed “this is what I have to put up with” the lady walked off “I swear I want to kick you hard, annoying ass” she is saying that while smiling “you love me though” I think she lowkey hates me right now.

I am impressed with Robyn, I don’t know how she got all of this but we legit having a picnic which is cute. Laying on my side on top of the picnic blanket laid out, Maurice is sat up but resting against me “I would say I was bored but it was good, it’s nice to just you know chill in the open” Majesty ran back with his toy “thank you baby, I am glad you liked it. You enjoyed teasing me more though” smirking at Robyn “you stole his toy and now you come back, you lucky he didn’t cry” Majesty is a brat “I play with him” she sat next to Maurice “here you play baby” Maurice is not interested now “Chris look up!” Dennis half shouted, looking up at Dennis and he just took the picture “this scenery is so beautiful, Robyn. Come, sit behind Chris. We can do a photoshoot now” smiling looking back at Maurice, he is really just sitting back on me all quiet. I think he likes it outside “are you just wanting me behind Chris or?” Robyn asked “what else?” she is being odd for no reason “just be natural, I have some beautiful shots all day. I mean maybe lean forward and kiss Chris, keep the kids there” they better hurry because Maurice is about to cry out for Robyn, he has seen his mom now.

Robyn sat on my lap on the floor “Junior is all snuggled up asleep now in the stroller” placing my arms around Robyn “good, we need to do more things with Junior. I know I though it was wack but you right, he needs to see nature and shit. We need to take him on a holiday” Robyn shifted in my lap “I was thinking on taking him Barbados, I was planning on going back with the family” I let out an oh “I was just thinking it baby but I just think it would be the right moment, listen to me on this before you cut me off. Junior is going to be there for two weeks, he is going to experience things and I don’t want you to miss out. I want you to be there, his dad taking him on the beach in the water. I get it, I understand but if you come with me I will only got for a week for you but if not then I will stay there for two weeks but for you I will cut it short, I understand if you don’t want to come but just think on it” nodding my head “so you just going after the Christening?” I questioned “yeah I think it will be the best time, what you think?” I shrugged, I don’t want to say anything “so what do I do without you guys?” they are both in my daily routine “be yourself baby, invite your friends. Have fun? But it’s open, I want you to come” nodding my head, I really need to think it through because I don’t want to seem like I am on Robyn’ hip but she is my baby, she is my entertainment, she kills my thoughts I feel when I am alone.

Patting my jeans down, it’s getting late now and it’s turning cold so we about to go “Yusef take a picture of me and shawty” unlocking my phone as I walked over to him “Dennis got loads though” I shrugged “they can be done later, Robyn” waving her over, walking back a little “come here, I want a picture with you” Robyn skipped over to me with the biggest smile on her face, placing my arm around her “oh Majesty, will you move!” Yusef spat, she is stuck to me “Majesty, you can have a picture after” she looked up at me like I swore at her “this is why I am glad we had a boy” I feel bad now “just stand there, we have a picture after ok?” smiling wide looking at Yusef “all done” Yusef said, moving my arm away from Robyn “come here, let me have a picture with my second wife” picking Majesty up “this little girl don’t stop, Noella your daughter is spoilt but proceed Chris” kissing Majesty’ cheek “done, here you are” he passed my phone back “what about me? Don’t I get love” Jen got to be joking me “I am playing with you” I was about to say then “I sent you the picture to your phone Chris from the camera, the one where you’re laid out with the kids and Robyn” Dennis said, tapping on my message “just come through now” tapping the picture “this is a cute ass picture, look at my face staring at the camera though” I like it, I am about to go on a posting spree now.

Pushing the stroller with the bodyguards ahead of us, there is fans walking at the side of us. I mean we can only stop some and Maurice is asleep in the stroller so they can’t see him “Chris Brown, you look so sexy with your new hair! I love you” the female said, looking to the side of me smiling “thank you ma” nodding my head, feeling Robyn hook her arm around mine “he is such a DILF, oh my god!” this is so hilarious, I can’t stop laughing to myself “what’s one of these?” I asked playing so dumb “a dad I like to fuck” Jen walked to the side of me “move back ladies, enough” I knew that but I played dumb “please can we have a picture! Oh please!” Jen side eyed me “you ain’t so stupid” she said to me, I shrugged looking at Robyn “I don’t care” was the first thing she said, moving my arm back and placing it around Robyn while still pushing the stroller “that is because I am yours, no need to trip. I love you” Robyn turned her face to me and pressed a kiss to my lips “I will think about what you told me earlier” Robyn smiled at me “I am happy you listened without going crazy on me, it is up to you because you can always catch up with your friends. A little freedom from me” looking ahead of me, I don’t like Robyn being away from me like that.

#Chrianna #Chrianna FF #Fanfiction

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