#wan play games n be tiny

[fleuraimer]

I saw your reblog and i couldn’t help it…

I’m begging on my knees… write a breeding blurb. Doesn’t have to be long cause i can’t wait. Like 100-500 words

PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

THIS IS MY FIRST BLURBY, SO I HOPE U LIKE IT :D pls excuse any typos, most of this was written on my phone 🧍🏽‍♀

wc: 1.7k

cw: smut, minors dni, 17+. breeding kink, and more. not proofread.

It really had started out as a joke.

Thanksgiving inspires spending time with family, and family means entertaining all the new cousins and little nieces and nephews that had joined the family in the past year.

So, Y/N naturally gravitated toward the children.

They’re irresistible! With their chubby cheeks and gummy smiles, innocent stutters and big wide eyes that are subject to tears at any moment.

It’s not as if they put up much of a fight either, Cole and Oliver practically fell over each other to claim the thorn that was her lap.

She was consumed by them; if they went somewhere, she was right behind them making sure their little heads didn’t knock, stubby legs wobbly like a newborn doe. She ate on the floor with them (“The carpet’s comfy, Titi!”), played games with them—if you could even call it playing, they just oohed and ahed and slobbered over a deck of cards—laughed with them, wiped their tears for them, held them close, cradled them into a dreamy state that had her cooing in their ear.

And he saw. From his personal spot on the couch, that he’d homed since the first thanksgiving he could remember, he saw his girl becoming his family, too. He saw the hearts in the eyes of his nephews, he saw her adoration for them (not that he’s much better, they’ve got him wrapped tight around their tiny fingers), saw the bond that began to blossom between them.

He saw how calm Y/N looked as she cared for them, saw how natural she was.

And so maybe, on the car ride back he made a few teasing remarks about her motherly tendencies. And perhaps he mindlessly let it slip that he’d thought about her, pregnant, with his child.

But it was all in good fun, right? She’d scoffed in her seat—though the flush of her cheeks did not go unnoticed—slapping his shoulder to halfheartedly reprimand his crude comments. Sure, it sent a yummy tingle up her spine. And, yeah, okay, her panties got, admittedly, a little more uncomfortable after hearing his confession.

But that didn’t matter, because it was just teasing. Just words that he said to get a reaction, like always.

…Right?

———

Y/N now understands that he was not joking.

Not one fucking bit.

It’s kind of difficult to find miscommunication in any of his words now. She understands him, she gets him—Holy fuck, she gets him.

“Prancin’ around with babies on your hips, an’ you think m’not gonna wanna get you pregnant with my child?”

She gets him, with his fat cock stuffed in her snug, tiny pussy, filling her up, up to her fucking stomach. Literally. With the way he’s got her bent into herself—ankles up to her ears, thighs squishing her arms in, which in turn pushes her tits together, shiny with spit and quite bruised—his cock molds to her, pressing at her tummy, glaring at her. It scares her.

And it’s fucking everything.

She gets him, but she doesn’t fucking get how he has the ability to tease, mock, and degrade her so thoroughly, after so much time spent doing nothing but abusing her poor, helpless cunt. He stretches her out to the point of pain—unsurprisingly, there was little to no prep in the build up to their current state, though, at the time, it didn’t feel needed, she’d been dripping down her thighs as soon as the first button of his dress shirt popped. His cockhead shoves into her cervix relentlessly, viciously. He bullies his way through her, her essence soaking his prick to the base, a sticky mess between their crashing hips.

“Wan’ you stuffed full by the time m’threw with you,” he grunts against her lips, his hot breath fanning over her face, grounding her to this moment. She gasps with every plunge of his hips, the lack of activity in her brain clear as day from the cute, stupid look on her pretty face.

Eyes crossed in the middle every other second, glossy from past and reoccurring tears. Her cheeks puffy and rosy, glistening in the lamp-light from drool and salty droplets of tears. Her hands push fruitlessly against his hard, sweaty abs, chocking out spineless protests.

“S’big, too big— too deep, Daddy!” She cries sweetly, hiding in the puff of his pillows cushioning her head.

“Shhh, Baby, lemme fuck you, plug you up with my cum…” His hands move from the headboard, one pushing down on the back of her thigh, keeping her spread open for him, and the other to her ruined face, three fingers shoving between her kiss-swollen lips. She slobbers over them immediately, brows furrowed in devoted concentration, desperately aiming to please him. “Tha’s a good girl, Puppy, jus’ suck on Daddy’s fingers while he uses your cute, slutty little pussy.”

She whimpers through her gag, nodding dumbly, drooling all over again, the sparkly, moony glow in her eyes letting him know that her head is empty.

“You wan’ my babies, Pup?” His thrusts slow, working himself into her with a heightened calculation, forcing her to feel every vein and ridge of his big cock. She squeezes around him, whining. “Yeah? Tell me, were y’thinkin’ ‘bout it when you were takin’ care of the little ones?” His fingers slide farther into her mouth, his cock hitting places brutishly and delicately at the same time. “Were y’thinkin’ ‘bout bein’ my pretty baby mama?”

“D—addy,” She chokes pathetically over his fingers, tensing up in every way.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “you wan’ my babies, Puppy.” He picks up the pace again, pistoning his hips so her special spot, oversensitive from so much use, gets completely smooshed by his prick every single time he grinds back inside of her weepy pussy. His hand on the back of her thigh moves to the crease between her leg and her slippery cunt, his thumb poking her puffy clit.

“Oh, ma goo—ness!” she bleats, huffy, wiggling away from his assault.

“Cut it out, Sugar,” he tuts, the hand on her thigh coming down to smack against her cunt, strings of her silky cum stuck on his palm when his fingers move to fuss over her achy button meanly. “Fuckin’ take my cock,” he strikes her again, her hips jumping in response, tears sprouting and spilling from her bleary eyes. “Keep still before Daddy gets sick’a your squirmin’ and ties you to the fuckin’ bed.

When his palm makes rough contact with her swollen clit for the third time, Y/N comes instantly.

She squirts, everywhere, as a matter of fact.

“Oh, fuck, Puppy,” he groans, hips stuttering as his cock twitches, and before he can stop himself, he’s being flooded with an overwhelming warmth, his cum spurting in thick, white ropes that paint her insides.

There’s a lot. More than usual, probably. It fills her up to the hilt and then some, dripping from her cunt and smearing down her sloppy pussy lips, over her mound and his faintly hairy pelvis. He fucks her through their simultaneous orgasms, through the crippling, divine sensations that somehow fatten his prick even more, urging on his insatiable desire.

Y/N shakes beneath him, still crying over his finger, chomping mindlessly on them as the pleasure continues to roll over her in waves.

Eventually, his cock slips out of her, too soaked for his thrusts to remain precise. She gasps at the sudden, jarring emptiness, and he grunts, animalistically, at the loss of familiar, snug, wet heat.

He doesn’t immediately push back in, however. His eyes get distracted on the view of his milky cum gushing out of her stretched, abused hole. His hand drops from her mouth to join the other, smearing their mess into her flesh and spreading her puffy pussy apart. Inspecting.

His head tilts curiously while he collects his cum on his middle and ring finger that’d dripped down to her puckered entrance, scooping it up before tentatively pushing it back inside.

It does more bad than good, honestly; more cum spills from around his finger, leaving them right back where they’d left off. But, that doesn’t stop him from repeating the action. Once, twice, hushing her screechy crying when her massages it into her silken walls the third time, smearing it onto her special spot when he pushes it back in the fourth. He jams his fingers into her cunt until he loses count, and the sound of her messy, stuffed pussy is louder than both their moans combined. He adds a third finger and picks up speed when her hand wraps around his wrist, when her voice grows hoarse and she screams bloody murder.

“Too much, too—I can't, please!” she screams, eyes clamped shut, body trembling.

“Shut up, Puppy, ain’t shit too much,” he dismisses, standing to his knees and using his free hand to keep her pinned to the mattress. “M’gonna fuck my cum back into this slutty, precious cunt ‘til you fuckin’ squirt f’me again.”

His gruff voice, his big, veiny hands trapping her to the bed, the incessant press of his fingers into the perfect spot that makes her toes curl and her stomach coil tighter and tighter. The sweat that drips from his face—from the tip of his nose, across his forehead and temples, glazed along his cupid’s bow—his beefy biceps, straining as he fights against her involuntary shudders. His chest, massive and buff, firm and slick with sweat under her palm.

It doesn’t take long for Y/N to oblige his demand.

“Just like that, Sugar, wet the fuckin’ bed, keep fucking coming.”

She keeps fucking coming. When his fingers are gone and his pretty, fat, perfect cock is reintroduced, she comes then, too. Like, as soon as he starts to push in.

It’s embarrassing, pitiful; pathetic.

But she can’t help it. She can’t help anything that she does or says when her cunt is stuffed with cum and cock, her sore pearl rubbed and swatted cruelly, her tits fondled demeaningly. She just lies there and cries, and takes his lovely cock. She lets him dump load after load of his spunk into her, claiming her, marking her as his. Making it stick.

“You’re my little cumdump, Pup,” he grumbles harshly, squeezing her pert nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re fuckin’ mine to kiss, love on, take care of,” she whimpers below, crying for his mercy, “my dumb slut to use, fuck, breed,” he plunges into her as deep as he can go, leaning in close and whispering, “you’re my fucking girl; my pathetic, needy fucking puppy that’s obsessed with my cock.” Y/N nods, gargling agreement.

He smirks, “Yeah, my little breeding bitch.”

[fionajames]

I dare you to write the most wholesome, amazing disaster trio fluff ever

Flocks of Fireflies

A/N: Ayyy, thank you so much for the request, anon, I hope this lives up to your expectations. I apologise for how long it took me, I wanted to make it THE BEST that I could. Not sure how I went, to be honest. Anyway, please leave comments and send requests, it means a lot to me. And most importantly; ENJOY READING ! ! !

(divider by @saradika-graphics)

Darkness coated Ahsoka’s body in velvety contentment as she ducked and weaved through the brush and flora, relying on the hazy vision courtesy of her nocturnal ancestors as her guide. The forest was dark and would have been frightening, if not for the waterfall of giggles falling from her lips with every frequent glance behind her.

The first time Ahsoka had played hide and seek - or the first time she could remember - was a game with her Youngling clan. They’d been allowed a large area of the Temple to hide in, with certain restrictions with different rooms, but it had been wonderful. She’d climbed a pillar and hidden in a tiny corner between the top of the pillar and ceiling, and been one of the last found.

The dark, harsh burning of the war that raged through every soldier’s being like a blistering fire was hard to escape, bright red and empty void at every turn, blood and screaming, death and maim, and defeat. And so her Master and Obi-Wan had devised a series of different games they could play to keep their minds off the horror all around them.

And soon, some of their Clones would join in. 

Today’s game consisted of Anakin, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, Rex, Cody, Fives, Echo, Jesse, Waxer and Boil. The night was a nice content temperature and the forest was thick, yet rather safe compared to some of the other terrain they’d experienced. 

And so Ahsoka continued, searching for her place of hiding.

The real competition was of course her fellow Jedi, with the Force by their side, and unfortunately it was Anakin’s turn to seek. He usually found a way to cheat. 

Which was why Ahsoka now had two hands firmly gripping a rope of vine, gazing out at a chasm etched deep into the ground ahead. The vine was attached to the branches of a tree overhanging the chasm, approximately midway over the abyss.

The rule was that you had to tag the person you’d found to declare them ‘found’, otherwise they were not yet eliminated. It made things difficult, especially when you had Fives and Anakin playing in the same game.

Swinging over the chasm and hanging there was not something Ahsoka fancied doing, and the other side of the deep gash in the earth was the boundary. Instead she began to climb up the vines easily, slinking into the dense foliage above. 

The rough bark of the elderly tree cut at her palms, but they were mere grazes and light enough to heal quickly. She scampered along a thick branch, two feet on the tree and standing upright, her arms shot out straight to keep her balance. Once she’d gained enough balance, her arms dropped to her side, unafraid of the drop below. 

Vines around her curled around her frame as she delved deeper into their cover, climbing higher and higher, and further away from the tree’s trunk and the edge. 

Grasping a branch in one hand and a vine in the other, Ahsoka pulled herself up onto a branch. Her eyes widened when she’d relaxed onto the bark and she realised her montrals were brushing the last leaves of the top of the tree.

Without hesitation, she stood up with ease, and her jaw fell slack at the sight ahead.

The forest ran on for miles with no visible end, bright green and dotted with other eye-catching colours, more like an artwork than a natural growth of flora. The tree she was perched upon seemed to be the tallest she could see, but there were other trees that reached similar heights.

But the real beauty were the bioluminescent insects flying slowly through the air, lighting up the entire forest from above. Ahsoka hadn’t even noticed them on her way up into the tree, perhaps because she’d been so aware of the mental countdown until Anakin began his hunt ringing in her head. 

The fireflies were a bright gold, and there were so many of them that Ahsoka wondered momentarily what they ate to sustain what appeared to be millions of the little insects. A singular little firefly lazily flew over Ahsoka’s shoulder, and came to rest on her forearm, before taking over a moment later.

Swarms of them flying slowly over her head were like starships, or perhaps even shooting stars. They moved like one giant creature, never out of sync or one flying at a different pace than the others. It was mesmerising, and unlike anything she’d ever seen before.

Distantly, she heard what sounded like a groan from Waxer upon being found, but frankly, she’d long ago forgotten about the game, the peace surrounding her too calm to disrupt. 

Then the leaves of the tree rustled behind her, and a familiar mop of ginger hair parted through the green as Obi-Wan emerged from the tree’s shelter. He had a content grin on his face as he silently crawled to sit next to her on the curved branch, observing the overhead flock of fireflies as they slowly glided through the air. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Obi-Wan mused, his eyes locked on an area of the night sky completely covered by the easy traffic of the insects. Ahsoka hummed in response, leaning into his side and shifting to comfortably rest her head on his shoulder, eyelids drooping, threateningly close to shutting completely.

“We had fireflies on Shili,” she mumbled, the memory of a jar with holes poked in the lid and a few of the amber insects inside its glass walls wafting through her mind. “But not like this.”

Obi-Wan agreed with his own soft hum, reaching an arm around her back and shifting so her cheek wasn’t resting on the bone of his shoulder, stroking up and down her right arm soothingly. 

It was beautifully picturesque and content, the quiet buzz of the fireflies and the general chirp of the forest easing Ahsoka’s nerves like warm tea or a fire in the cold. The gold glow was coating her own body, and she could see out of the corner of her eye that several locks of Obi-Wan’s auburn hair dipped in the gold light.

The dull stinging from the scrapes on her palms had melted away at some point, leaving her with a gentle hum in her body that was so pleasant she feared flinching if it might drive the contentment away. Warmth licked up her bones gently as she yawned softly, pinpricks of pain stinging her eyes as the world blurred momentarily.

She didn’t fully realise how much time had passed until a familiar presence lingered near her, and Anakin appeared from the leaves and vines only metres away. He made no teasing quip or begrudging congratulations, only smiled softly. She would’ve muttered something playfully about his unusual gentleness if it wasn’t for the fatigue trickling down her limbs and torso.

Wordlessly, Anakin settled down on their curved branch on Ahsoka’s right, gently shifting in place as to ensure both of his companions’ comfort. Obi-Wan yawned now, which was no surprise to the Togruta, as she was well aware he’d barely slept the last few days, spending the nights desperately scribbling down battle strategies and tactics.

They stayed there for a while longer, until the pressure bearing down on Ahsoka’s eyelids was too much to withstand and the stinging behind her eyes was too sharp to ignore. She let her eyes drift shut and not open for a few minutes. 

“I think, perhaps,” Obi-Wan yawned mid-sentence, “that we should head back to the camp.” Anakin mumbled something softly, and stood up, sliding down to a lower branch. Ahsoka let out a gentle whine that had both men chuckling faintly, before the brunet turned in place and Obi-Wan eased her onto his back. 

Ahsoka clung to Anakin, her head resting gently on his shoulder as they climbed down through the foliage, vines draping over her body as they moved. Navigating their way down the tree was the hard part, especially with Ahsoka half-asleep and clinging to Anakin, but they managed.

The trek back to the campsite was easier, with Obi-Wan walking ahead to navigate the smoothest track to not disturb the resting Padawan. When they were nearing the camp, Ahsoka mumbled softly; “can we go see the fireflies tomorrow night?”

Neither male had the heart to say no to the gentle tenderness of her youthful whisper, and neither wished to deny the excursion either. And so they agreed gently, just as they stepped from the brush of the forest and into the clearing. 

They went to see the fireflies the next night, and the night after that, and the night after, until they were forced to depart from their current camp and move on. But none of the three would ever forget the gentle, content, humming warmth of the scene, and the fireflies that came with the memory, even if the best part was just that it was them. Them three, together.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed!!! Please send requests and leave comments, they mean the world to me :D

(taglist: @skellymom, @techs-goggles9902, dm me if you wish to be added or removed)

[killa-trav]

okay so here’s the post match analysis from ln:

a 3-0 win after a draw against palace n a loss against arsenal should be something we should be like yay this is amazing it’s exactly what we need. well ur wrong bc yes we won 3-0 but that was a horrific performance all around, we got very lucky that forest are too shit last night.

wout weghorst’s goal was the exact reason why we signed him rather than a proper more versatile striker, he’s a box striker who can capitalise quickly when given the chance hence his goal. the attack as a whole played very good but antony? again the less said about antony the better. i’m just hoping that he gets his shit together n with pellistri playing they way he is, i’m hoping it will be like shaw this season who upped his game bc he didn’t want to lose out to malacia in the starting 11

i think pellistri should he go on loan will be a massive mistake bc yes ik he’s young but that will be his second loan spell and i genuinely think ten hag should use him more especially in games like last night and against reading on saturday. he played extremely well last night and he’s very exciting when he’s on the ball n he got close to goal quite a few times last night which was really good to see.

moving onto the midfield, can’t really blame them too much. casemiro again showing why he’s world class and eriksen again was great but my only issue with the midfield is that it just needs that extra depth that eriksen doesn’t offer. but i would take those two over mcfred any day of the week

now onto the defence. lisandro martinez baby ur fucking amazing, you really lived up to the butcher nickname once again n i truly love u for that but just one tiny little request? STOP USING UR HEAD WHEN U ALREADY HAVE STITCHES U SILLY FOOL. nah i’m just kidding keep using it bby xx

malacia as per was amazing but lindelöf and wan bissaka?? bro ur days are both numbered. both such liabilities n wallahi if i were ten hag i would’ve slapped them two dense fucks so hard by now. idk which fraud they are using bc those two are not professional footballers at all n we need to stop pretending that they are

david de gea that was much better than sunday, u actually caught the ball n didn’t actually make many mistakes last night, i’m glad but again bro pls just be more consistent, ur making too many mistakes n u literally have zero excuses anymore bc ur so fucking experienced too

overall a solid 7.9/10 from the reds, onto reading on saturday for the fa cup!

[sems-diarie]

fat/tummy worship is heavy on the brain today

roommate!Kyoutani who heads right towards you soon as he stomps in the apartment and buries his head in ur chin(s) because “s’nice, smell nice ‘n feels soft” :(( throws a fit if you try to shove his head off your stomach while you’re laying on the couch trynna watch TV

Roommate!kyoutani who was convinced that you were scared of him or hated him for the longest cause you barely made an effort to interact with him when you first moved in— but that’s only because you were trying to cope with having to be around such a fine ass roommate all the time :(

roommate kyoutani who practically growls at his sendai frogs teammates when they jokingly call you his “wife” cause you stay cooking him shit— like they’ll come over for a game night or w/e and without fail, you always come by and offer him some sort of food all “wan’ some, Ken? I made too much :(“ and they always laugh cause he has yet to say no 🥺

Roommate!kyoutani who makes an effort to tone down his aggressiveness around you cause he doesn’t want to scare you off...only to be shocked when you ask what’s wrong cause “you’re not acting like your usual self. wanna talk about it?”

roommate!kyoutani who loves the squeals you let out when he sneaks up on you to pinch n prod at your chubby tummy n pudgy sides :((( always chuckles when he sees your brown eyes wander around the room all warily cause he knows you’re looking out for him— just loves to “bully” you

roommate!kyoutani who hopes you can’t hear the slick of his precum as he jerks his dick to the though of your chubby self riding him for all his worth :(((

k-k-k-kyotani :(( he’s just so mean >:(

when ur on the couch watching tv, he’ll collapse right on into ur lap. n’ you try to shoo him away ‘cause he’s all sweaty n gross but he’s just too greedy t’let you get away. n when you’re curled in the corner ‘cause you wanna give him space on the couch, he drags you to sit closer 🥺 says u smell nice n’ his teammates are stinky, so s’good.

u mention somethin’ about wanting to do yoga and he takes on the title of your very own personal trainer. stretches you out as much as you’ll let him, tells you not to be such a crybaby when u start squirming ‘cause it tickles—thick fingers digging into your legs, the backs of your knees, pressing up up up until your hand is pressed to his lower stomach.

“tani, it hurts, you’re goin’ too fast.”

he jerks off for weeks ab it 😭

and pls he always feels he’s at his wits end during the summer. s’like you want to give him blue balls. all he can think about is gettin between your hips n leaving a mess all down your cunt 🥺 make you twitch n cream ‘round his cock with those tiny shorts clinging to one crook of your knee. n’ then pull em’ back up since they’re so cute on you :(((

n pls pls pls the way his heart stutters when you reach down to grab something from a kitchen cabinet and a peak of fat, brown pussy lips flash him???? he’s mid sentence and everything just shuts off 😭

roommate kyo playing call of duty w his friends while you sit n watch ‘cause you like bein next to him. h-he puts his headphones on you so you can listen while he destroys the other team n you look up at him all 🥺. licks his lips while thinkin’ about how mean it’d be if he’d turn on his mic n’ lick your pussy ‘til you cry.

he lets you be affectionate w him, too. let’s you fall asleep on his shoulder n’ doesn’t even get mad if you drool :( finds himself longing for you to ask to hold his hand, n’ if you’re not quick enough he just sets it on your knee n waits for you to take the hint.

oh 🥺 sad!rm coming out of her room w wet cheeks and red eyes and kyotani corners her until she tells him what’s wrong :(( it’s practically an ambush. but now all ur thinking about is how big he is hunched over you. how mean he looks with that snarl curled into his mouth as he demands you tell him what happened, who did it, which bastard on your roster does he have to kill.

little does he know u just finished watching a sad tv show 😭 u get a flick on the forehead for making him worry ☹️

ah!! making kyotani sit down and pick which outfit you should wear. giving him a little fashion show n’ pouting when he says wear all three. kyotani being weak for you in skirts. thinks they’re magical on you.

rm!kyotani letting u win when u wanna wrestle around and play fight. let’s you pin his wrists down and sit on him w that victory smile on your face. but you know better—kyo’s thrown you over his shoulder before, of course you do.

[alyswritings]

Daddy's Girl

Request: Hi! could I request a Rudy Pankow daughter one, that she is very shy and only likes to be with her dad. fluffy moments 🥺😍 thank you!

Rudy Pankow x daughter!reader

Summary: Y/N is a daddy's girl.

Warnings: fluff

a/n: thank you for the request! hope you all enjoy!

(gif not mine)

"Come on, munchkin! We gotta get ready to go!" Rudy calls out as he walks through his apartment. Him and his three year old were eating breakfast and after when he told her that they had to start getting ready, that's when the toddler decided to start a game of hide and seek. She thinks if she wins, they can stay home.

"Y/N!" Rudy calls in a sing song voice. "C'mon, baby girl." He says, continuing to look through the apartment for the tiny blonde. He sighs, having already looked in most of the rooms.

Rudy freezes when he hears giggling. He hears more and tiptoes to where the sound is coming from. He walks into the kitchen and hears the giggles coming from one of the lower cabinets.

Rudy bends over a bit, closely listening until he knows exactly which cabin contains the giggling three year old. He walks closer, pulling the cabinet open.

"Gotcha!" He yells, loud giggles coming from Y/N. "C'mon, my little princess." Rudy grabs her, carefully getting her out of the cabinet. "We gotta get ready."

"I don't wan' go." Y/N whines, slumping against her father's chest.

"Why not? You don't wanna see your new aunts and uncles?" Rudy asks, Y/N immediately shaking her head.

"Wann' stay wit' you." Y/N says as Rudy sets her down in her room.

"You will be with me. I may not be next to you every second, but I'll be there." Rudy assures. He takes her pajama shirt off, quickly replacing it with her T-shirt.

"Cuddle." Y/N pouts.

"I will hold you as much as I can today. And then when we get home later you can have all the cuddles you want. I promise." Rudy tells her. "But daddy has to work. If he doesn't, we can't get you food or toys. No more random ice cream dates."

He watches Y/N's eyes widen at the thought of no ice cream dates.

"I wove ice ceam dates." Y/N protests.

"I know. So to keep 'em going, I gotta go to work." Rudy says. "You'll be okay, I promise."

Rudy helps her finish getting ready and then he gets everything either of them may need. Rudy picks her up, going to the car and soon enough they're on set.

Rudy gets her bag before unbuckling her and picking her up. Y/N nuzzles her face into the crook of his neck, one hand tightly holding onto his shirt, the other gripping a stuffed animal.

"Pankow! And tiny Pankow!" Chase exclaims.

"What's up, man." Rudy greets, using his free hand to do a handshake with the older actor.

"Hey, Y/N." Chase softly greets, moving behind Rudy so he's in Y/N's line of vision. He softly smiles at her.

"Hi." Y/N quietly mumbles, her hold on her dad's shirt tightening.

Chase gently smiles at her, but doesn't push, used to her shyness by now. The rest of the cast greets Rudy, giving Y/N smiles and waves, but not pushing the toddler to interact.

Rudy goes to his trailer, dropping the bags off, and he gets in costume before going to the hair and makeup trailer. While he gets put together, Y/N stays cuddled up in his lap, playing with the rings on his fingers and his bracelets.

Afterwards, Rudy keeps Y/N in his arms, holding her as long as he can. She does request to be put down at a point, the two playing outside of the chateau.

Eventually Rudy had to start filming so he put her in his cast chair.

"Stay wit' you." Y/N says.

"I'll be right over there, okay? But if you wanna stay near me, you have to sit here and be very, very quiet." Rudy tells her. "Think you can do that?"

"Otay." Y/N dejectedly sighs, slumping in the chair.

Rudy cups her head, peppering her face with kisses making the little girl let out wild giggles. Rudy grins when he stops, giggles still escaping her.

"Be good and quiet, okay?" Rudy says, Y/N nodding. He places a loud kiss to her forehead before walking to where they're filming.

"Big ol softie." JD teases.

"Shut up." Rudy shoves him, a small smile on his face.

- - -

The cast are out at dinner, the restaurant a bit crowded with lots of people. Y/N is in a high chair, placed between Rudy and Drew. They all have their food and are still making conversation while eating.

Y/N wanted to sit in Rudy's lap, but he told her it would be too hard for either of them to eat their food that way. So she reluctantly got put in the high chair that Rudy pulled as close to him as possible.

"Okay, I gotta take a leak." Rudy says before turning to Y/N. "Hey, princess." He gets her attention. "Daddy's gotta go to the bathroom, but I'll be right back."

"No." Y/N whines.

"It's okay. I'll be back in, like, five minutes. That's a really short time." Rudy promises, but his daughter simply deepens her frown. "You can keep eating, baby. Just focus on your food." He kisses her on the head before leaving, Y/N sadly watching him go.

Y/N nibbles at her food, waiting for her father's return. She watches everybody else have conversations, eventually covering her ears when the table erupts in laughter, it being too loud for Y/N's liking.

Y/N hears a chair scrape against the floor, turning to find Rudy sitting back down.

"See? Back already." Rudy smiles, scratching her head. Y/N holds her arms out to him. "You done with your food?" He asks and Y/N nods. Rudy grabs her, pulling her out of the highchair. Most of her food is gone and even if she is still hungry, he's easily able to transfer her food onto his plate.

Rudy puts Y/N on his lap, the girl cuddling into his chest. Y/N pats her dad's chest which gets his attention and she points to her plastic cup of lemonade that's on the high chair. Rudy gets the cup and gives it to her, the girl protectively holding it in both hands, her head resting on Rudy's chest.

Rudy keeps his arms around her so she doesn't fall, one hand softly rubbing her back and his other is used to take some more bites of his food, making sure to get nothing in the toddler's hair.

By the end of dinner, Y/N's already half asleep. Her head rests on Rudy's shoulder as he carries her out of the restaurant, the cast finishing up conversations before bidding goodbyes and going their separate ways for the night.

Rudy opens the back door and carefully puts Y/N in her car seat.

"Daddy?" Y/N sleepily mumbles.

"Hey, hey, I'm right here, baby girl. It's okay, munchkin. We're going home." Rudy says.

"Me an' you?" Y/N asks.

"Yep. Just me and you." Rudy confirms. A sleepy smile graces Y/N's face, glad she just gets to be with her dad now. Rudy finishes buckling her up before he places a kiss to her forehead and then shuts the door.

He gets in the car, driving home. As he turns the car off, he looks back and finds Y/N asleep. Rudy lovingly smiles, getting out and going to the back.

He slowly gets her out of the car seat, not wanting her to wake up.

Rudy gets all of their stuff and goes up to his apartment, locking the door behind him. He goes to Y/N's room and manages to get her in her pajamas, deciding he'll give her a quick bath in the morning.

"Sweep." Y/N yawns.

"Yeah, princess, you're going to bed. It's okay." Rudy whispers.

"Sweep wit' you." Y/N clarifies.

"Okay. That's cool." Rudy says. He picks her back up and grabs her stuffed animal and blankie. He goes to his room and puts her in his bed, tucking her in.

Rudy changes into his own pajamas before getting in bed next to her. Y/N immediately cuddles into his chest, the blankie and stuffed animal securely in her grasp.

Rudy strokes her hair to help her fall asleep faster. He places a soft kiss on her head, snuggling her closer.

"Night, princess." He whispers, ready to get taken to dreamland himself.

Taglist: @glxwingrxse

[sorryjustafangirl]

wish we were older

a/n: two fics in one week? do not get used to this lol. but in honour of his 200th assist, here is a fic that's been a wip for way too long. it's based off of angel baribeau's song 'wish we were older' and is basically 4 times matthew wished he was older and one time he didn't. also there's a little easter egg in this one let me know if you find it ;)

pairing: matthew tkachuk x gn!reader

word count: 4k+

warnings: a couple swears, one mention of sex, kids

disclaimer: this is a piece of fiction and real person fiction so if that doesn't vibe with you, please don't read! also, gif is not mine, all credit to the wonderful creator.

Most people want to be younger. In Western society, aging is one of the worst things that can happen to you. There are skin treatments and surgeries to make your skin look younger, look healthier. When you’re young, you have no responsibilities, no expectations, there’s no judgement. Most people want to be younger, but not Matthew Tkachuk. He always knew that all he wanted was to be older – to live his life with you.

one - age six

“Can we play my game now?” You whined, standing in front of the soccer net. He had invited you over to play, and as his best friend, you said yes. But you didn’t think he’d make you stand in front of a net while he scored on you over and over again.

“Fine,” He grumbled, picking up the ball. “What do you want to play?”

“House!” You grinned widely, and Matthew found himself smiling at you despite how much he’d rather be kicking a ball than playing house. He liked making you happy.

You walked over to the small playhouse that was in their backyard and explained that he was going to be at work and you were going to be home and you’d make him supper. He didn’t like house that much because there was a lot of doing nothing on his end so he tried making a suggestion.

“Shouldn’t we be married if we play house?”

“I mean, I guess, but we can just pretend we’re married.”

“No, I think we should, like, do a wedding and stuff. It’ll be fun! I can make us rings!” His eyes lit up at the idea of doing something that wasn’t sitting around and when you looked over at him, you couldn’t deny his request. You liked seeing him smile.

“Fine, we can do that. I can pick some flowers!” You went to the garden to pull yourself a bouquet while Matthew ran inside.

“Mom?” He yelled, running into the kitchen. Chantel set down the knife she was holding to look over to her oldest son.

“What?”

He grabbed a cracker for the snack board she had set out and stuffed it in his mouth. He grumbled out his words but his mom just raised her eyebrows.

With a mouthful of crackers, he managed to get out his words. “Where’s the tinfoil?”

“I can grab it for you.” She turned to the drawer next to her and pulled out the container. He went to grab it, but she pulled it back. “Why do you want it?”

“I need to make rings! Y/n and I are going to get married!”

“Really?” Matthew nodded with his chest puffed out.

“I hate to break it to you, but normally you get married to people you love.”

“I love Y/n.” Or at least he thought he did. It was what his parents had and what his grandparents had. It was liking someone enough to spend all your time together and he already did that with you.

His mom gave him an amused smile. “Well, you’ve got to be older to get married, sweetheart.”

“Then I wish I was older!”

“Don’t wish your life away son!” His dad called from the other room and Matthew sighed, grabbing the tinfoil container to go back outside to play with you where his parents couldn’t burst his bubble.

He sat down pulling the tin foil to make two tiny rings, big enough for just your small fingers. When he was finished, he looked for you and saw you sitting on the ground putting a bouquet together. He just looked at you and looked at how the sun made your hair look pretty, smiling. This was a lot better than playing house.

“Are you done?” He asked. You nodded and stood up, him doing the same. You met in the middle and he started.

“Do you want to marry me?”

You nodded. “I do.” He slid one of the makeshift rings onto your hand. “Do you want to marry me?”

“I do,” he answered, and you slid the other ring onto his finger. “Ta-da! We’re married now!”

You grabbed his hands and pulled him closer, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before pulling away to dance in the grass. Matthew stood back, in shock from your kiss, before softening and admiring you. Despite his dad’s words from earlier, he still wanted to be older.

two - age thirteen

“It’s Y/n! I got it!” Matthew yelled to the house as he saw your phone number pop up on the TV he was watching. He raced to his bedroom, grabbing the phone from his parents’ bedroom on the way. Your family had moved away from his, not far, but you were still his closest friend. You talked all the time at school and you always came to his games. He flopped on his bed before answering the ringing phone. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Matty?” The tone of your voice had him sitting upright immediately. Your voice was quiet and he swore he heard it crack.

“Yeah, what’s wrong?”

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

“What? No. Why do you think you’re stupid?”

You sniffled on the other end. “Charlie told me I was. And ugly too.” Charlie, aka your ‘boyfriend’. There was no label but from what you told Matthew, you both really liked each other.

“Charlie said that? Are you kidding me?” You mumbled a ‘no’ and Matthew sighed. “Well, you’re not those things. Charlie’s the stupid ugly one.”

You stayed silent. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“How can I? Charlie’s the most popular guy in Mr. Jackson’s class. And he like-liked me. Or I thought he did,” you said, wiping some stray tears away.

“How can I make you feel better?” You shrugged even though he couldn’t see you.

“A hug would be nice but it’s already past my bedtime, and you have a game tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. Matthew felt helpless.

“It’s fine, Matty. Thanks for listening.”

“Yeah, yeah, anytime. I mean that, call me whenever, I don’t mind.” You said your goodbyes and hung up the phone, but he couldn’t shake this feeling he had – like he didn’t do his job as your best friend. That’s when he had his idea.

“Mom! Can you drive me to Y/n’s house?”

“Matthew, it’s almost time for bed and you have a game tomorrow,”

“I know but I need to go to Y/n’s right now, Mom, please! It’s important,” He pleaded and Chantel narrowed her eyes. Pursing her lips, she nodded, grabbing the car keys and opened the garage door. Matthew raced out to the car and put his seatbelt, wiggling in his seat until they were on their way to you. She had barely put the car in park in front of your house before Matthew was running towards the front door.

He knocked a few times and you timidly opened the door, peaking your head out. He sent you a smile and your eyes started to well with tears. He immediately brought you into a hug and you relished in the comfort of your best friend.

The two of you sat on your porch steps and in no time, Matthew had you laughing about silly jokes about Charlie, telling you how you’re way too smart for him anyways. You leaned your head on his shoulder and thanked him for coming over to comfort you.

“It’s nothing. You needed me and I came. No big deal.”

The honk of Chantel’s car blared quickly, and he sighed. “I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow after my game, right?” You nodded your head and he gave you another hug.

“Matthew! Let’s go!” He rolled his eyes at his mom, but knew she wouldn’t hesitate to get out of the car and drag him to bed. He left your porch and climbed back into the car, waving at you as you went back inside your house.

“Why couldn’t I have five more minutes?” He grumbled as his mom drove away.

“Until you’re old enough to drive yourself around on game nights, I will decide when we leave.”

He sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned against the window. ‘I wish I was older’ were his last thoughts before he slipped into his dreams.

three - age nineteen

Matthew had asked you out the summer after sophomore year and the two of you had been going out ever since. He was a happier version of himself when he could call you his and he could unashamedly compliment you in public. Even when he was drafted to the OHL, it didn’t hinder the connection you had. The long distance wasn’t ideal, but he was still relatively close. Calgary was much further away.

You had accepted a full ride scholarship to the University of Missouri-St. Louis, and there was no way Matthew would let you give that up just so the two of you could be closer. He’d seen you work so hard, doing homework while watching his games and reading papers until 2am on FaceTime with him. You were two years into your degree and loving it, he couldn’t ask you to leave all of that to come to Calgary with him.

He didn’t even have to ask you to come with him to see the city for the first time. School wouldn’t start for another week, and neither of you were ready for the year ahead. You’d joined the family on the plane, his hand never leaving yours (except to put your carry-on in the overhead compartment). The two of you toured the city, sharing in the mundane moments like seeing the Calgary Tower and the dinosaurs at the zoo (“What other kind of zoo has dinosaurs babe?! They move! This is so cool.”). The family all went out for dinner the night before your flight was to depart from Calgary and the whole night was spent with Matthew’s hand on your thigh. You leaned into him as Keith shared stories of baby Matthew and Brady chimed in with his own chirps. You’d all shared a bottle of wine and Matthew’s billets had given you permission to stay the night with him, as long as nothing happened. You assured them the two of you would be on your best behaviour, and even when he teased you, you shut it down. The random grown adults upstairs were enough to kill the mood.

The two of you brushed your teeth together, catching glances in the mirror, Matthew’s hand resting on your hip bone. You bumped into his side and he sent you a cheeky smile before softly bumping you back. He finished changing into his pajamas first, the Superman pair you had bought him last Christmas as a joke. When he asked why Superman, you simply replied, “Because you’re my hero Matty.” He’d never forgotten those words. When you finished changing, you turned to see him under the covers, one hand holding the comforter up, so you could snuggle in beside him.

You pressed your head against his chest, listening to the steady heartbeat you wouldn’t hear for a while. His hand softly traced over your back, his other hand playing with your fingers. You slowly dozed off and Matthew was quick to follow you. It wasn’t hard when he was holding the love of his life in his arms.

The next morning, you had a hard time getting out of bed. Not just because you’d have to leave, but because Matthew’s grip around your waist wouldn’t budge.

“Matty, I have to get up, your parents will be here soon.” He groaned but released you and watched you get ready from the bed. He watched the way your hair fell naturally, the way your forehead wrinkled when you couldn’t find something, the way your eyes softened when they met his. He made grabby hands from the bed and you checked the clock. You humored him and fell back into his embrace for five more minutes.

You pulled him out of bed, pajama pants and all, to say goodbye as his parents pulled up into the driveway. They let you and him have a private goodbye, standing by the car. Matthew was quick to take you into his arms.

“I wish we were older so we didn’t have to say goodbye,” He mumbled into your shoulder. His words brought tears to your eyes and you swallowed before you answered him.

“It’s not a goodbye, it’s a see you soon.” You rubbed his back and he squeezed you even tighter. You tried to pull away but he refused, holding you for just another minute before letting go. Your hands found their way to his face, lightly stroking his cheekbones. “Listen to me, Matty. You are going to be amazing here, okay? You’re going to blow everyone away, I just know it. I’ll be cheering you on the whole time.”

He nodded and pulled you in for one last kiss. You squeezed his hand before passing him off to his parents, getting into the car beside Brady. When the Tkachuks were all buckled in, Keith put the car in reverse, starting the drive to the airport. You waved to Matthew and he waved back. You softly mouthed ‘I love you’ and he said it back. As he got smaller and smaller in the background, you couldn’t help but hope Matthew’s wish would come true soon.

four - age twenty four

Johnny became a dad. Lucic's kid started kindergarten. His cousin got married. The PT, Leila, just had her baby. It didn't help Taryn kept sending him pictures of the neighbours’ newborn asking him she was going to be an aunt.

Matthew's hands tightened on his laces and he pulled them tight enough to have white marks on his hands. He shook them and tried to ignore his teammate's coos about his newest addition. Yeah, the kid was cute but did Johnny have to rub it in everyone's faces? He sighed as he put on the rest of his equipment and left the dressing room early. He skated on the ice alone, stickhandling and shooting some loose pucks towards the net-- not that any of them went in. His mind wasn't there.

All he wanted, and all he had wanted for the past five years, was to be your husband. To have kids of his own, to be the family man like his dad. But he had to wait for that.

Matthew Tkachuk isn't an overly patient man. He's driven by impulsive decisions, his mouth running during a game before he can consciously decide what to say. He moves before he can think, his body instinctively moving, on the ice, in a fight, even as a kid he was like that. And he’d tested his patience and done his waiting.

After four years of long distance while you finished your degree, something he was so proud of you for, you were finally in Calgary with him. When you had said you wanted to get your Master's, he had all but begged you to stay in your new hometown with him. He had done four years of virtual dates and FaceTime calls, four years of only seeing each other in the offseason and Christmas because you could never get the All-Star break off of school. He'd done four years without you and there was no way he was letting you leave again.

So you applied to the University of Calgary (no surprise you got accepted) and started your program. He had wanted to propose the moment you got accepted, but he figured it would be best to celebrate the two things separately. So he waited. At first, Matthew thought it was going to be wonderful. You'd spend more time together, he'd get to cheer you on, he'd get to go to sleep with you in his arms. He was mostly right -- but the life you shared was hectic between your school schedule and his intensive regimen. There was barely enough time to plan date nights, let alone the evidential wedding that would happen when he proposed. So he waited longer.

Finally, your program finished and there was time in the world to celebrate that. School was done and you already had a job lined up that started in two weeks. He'd had enough of waiting at that point and popped the question. It was perfect and everything you'd ever wanted and Matt was just happy you said yes. You had always been the one for him but he knew he could be a bit of an asshole every now and again.

So between the engagement, wedding planning, your new job, the start of a new season, Matthew knew it wasn’t the right time for a kid, but goddamn did he ever want one.

Everyone filtered onto the ice, beginning their warmup. He mostly stayed away from the group, his mind on how he couldn't have all the things he wanted. He didn't need, or want, reinforcement from his teammates of what he's missing out on.

He stayed near the back for most of the practice, missing shots left and right, and grimacing every time Sutter’s mouth turned into a frown at him. He just couldn’t get the thought of a family out of his head. What Sunday mornings would be like, how the family photos would look sitting on top of the fireplace, how you’d look holding his kid in your arms...

Gio skated up beside him in line, letting the others go in front of them. "Chucky, what is going on?"

"It's nothing."

"Don't lie to me. What's buggin' ya?" Matt looked up at the ceiling and shifted on his skates like a little kid.

"It's just like... everyone's having kids and having a family and getting married and I just- I want that so badly but it's just not the right time for me and Y/N. I just, like, I wish I was older so I can have that, you know? But whatever, it's fine, I'll get over it."

"You don't have to get over Matt, it's normal. You're having baby fever. And I know it's hard, but enjoy the time the two of you have by yourselves. Take a spontaneous trip. Have sex with the door open. Do all the things you can't with kids. This isn't a waiting period in your life for something better, this is your life. Have some patience, alright kid?"

"Yeah yeah yeah. Thanks, man."

"Good, now can you make a goal please? It's embarrassing, Marky isn't even trying." Matt huffed and went off, picking up a puck and hitting the back of the net easily.

+ one - age thirty two

Matthew hopped in his truck and drove away from the arena. Snow was softly falling onto the windshield, but after close to fourteen years after he first came to Calgary, he found comfort in the flakes. A lot had changed since he first came to the city. After Gio was traded, he was named Captain. You had not only moved out from St. Louis to be with him, but he was now your husband.

As he rolled up in the suburban driveway, he smiled as he saw the outside lights welcoming him home. He grabbed his bag and stick, opened the front door, and gently placed it on the floor so as not to disturb his family. He tiptoed his way towards the kitchen, listening to the laughter of his kids.

“When will Daddy be home?” Cameron, your four year old asked. A grin spread across his face and he rounded the corner.

“How about right now?” Shrieks from all Tkachuk kids sent Matthew into a chuckle as Eli, your six year old, launched himself into his arms. Cameron was helped off the counter where he was sitting and you grabbed your eighteen month old, Jada, from her high chair to greet your husband. Cameron joined the group hug and Matthew took a quick moment to sneak in a kiss from you. He tickled Jada’s stomach and her giggles brought a wider grin onto his face, if that was possible.

“Daddy, daddy, can we go skating? I want to show you how good I am at skating now!” Eli asked, once he detangled himself from his dad.

“Sure, bud, after supper, alright?” Matthew ruffled his hair and he smiled, with one tooth missing. He made his way towards you at the stovetop, Cameron on his hip after making the grabby hands at him. He snaked his free arm around your waist and kissed the top of your shoulder.

“How were they today?” You leaned into his embrace as much as you could while keeping an eye on supper.

“They’re your kids so… chaotic as usual. E has been outside as much as he can and Cam spilled his orange juice like four times. He did clean it up, unlike someone’s pile of laundry from his road trip.” He blushed at your glare.

“I love you," He said in a sing-song voice.

“I love you too. The pile is now on your side of the bed so you can’t ignore it. But Jada here finally ate her banana chips, yes she did, yes she did,” you half-said-half-cooed to your daughter on your hip.

“Did she now?” Cameron wiggled in his dad’s arms so he got put down and Matthew took the opportunity to take his daughter from your arms. “Daddy is so proud of you, baby, so proud.” He lightly booped her nose and she giggled. “What about work, did what’s-his-face get back to you?”

“He did, but he wasn’t super helpful, so I’ve got to reach out to his boss and see if she can give me what I need to complete the project. Boys! Suppertime!” You got Jada situated in her high chair and Matthew helped the two boys into their chairs. He served everyone’s plates while you got Jada’s food from the fridge. After a quick saying of grace, the boys dug in and you gave Matthew another kiss before turning to Jada to help her if she needed.

“Daddy, do you know what I know?” Eli said.

“No, bud, what do you know?”

“That me and Cam and Jada are just like you and Uncle Brady and Auntie Taryn because it goes boy and then boy and then girl!” He smiled, even with some food still in his mouth.

“That's right! You are so smart.”

“I want to be like Daddy!” Cameron whined. He crossed his arms and you smiled.

“Of course you can be like Daddy. But first you have to be older," you explained.

“Then I want to be older!”

“Almost, buddy, almost. Do you want to come skating with Eli and I?” Your husband asked. When he nodded, Matthew told the two boys to go get ready and he’d be right there. Then he turned towards you and just watched you with Jada. You turned to him and after a while and tilted your head. He shook his head but you gave him a look. He stood up from his chair, collected the boys plates, before coming behind you.

“It’s nothing...just for as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be older. And I realized that I don’t want to be older anymore. I have everything I could possibly want. I am the husband to the love of my life, I’m taking my two sons skating in our backyard, and I just… I don’t know, it feels really fucking good.”

“Even without a Stanley Cup?”

He bent down to be at your eye level and brought one hand to the back of your neck. He gently brought your lips to his and only broke away when Jada squealed. “I have everything I could possibly want right here. There’s nothing better than this home we built,” He whispered. He heard the boys call for him from the back door and he smiled as he went to get ready.

“Hey babe?” He turned around at your voice. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

thanks for reading and feel free to let me know what you thought!

taglist (join here): @heatherawoowoo @4ambagelbites @tysonjost-taylorsversion @2manytabsopen @stars-canucks @lorrmorr @fallinallincurls @plds2000 @barzysandhughesbaby

[mypoisonedvine]

can you please write some daddy! stucky x little! reader with some cockwarming and spanking and just being a cum slut for daddy’s special milk

okay so I took this amazing suggestion and REALLY ran with it... this is so nasty im putting the whole thing under a cut wowww... very nsfw, very heavy ddlg, very aggressive punishments with mean!daddy stucky, lots of cnc and pain kink and degradation plus dp and painal... it's wild

"dada pwease... I'll be good, I pwomise..."

bucky sighed, crossing his arms in disappointnent as he looked down at you. "you had your chance to be good, pumpkin, but you were naughty instead. now papa and I have to teach you a lesson."

you turned to your papa, steve, and your heart broke to see him looking at you with stoic sternness, his hands resting on his hips judgmentally. "pweeease papa, don't spank me... s'gonna hurt..."

"sorry baby but you more than earned it," steve sighed as he took a seat on one of the dining chairs nearby. "your dada's gonna help you take off your pull-up, and then you need to come over here and bend over my knee before I add five more spanks onto your punishment."

"yes, papa..." you mumbled as you felt bucky's hands relieve you of your diaper before you stepped out of it and crossed the room to where steve waited patiently, patting his knee for you to lay on. you squirmed a little in anticipation of the punishment but overall managed to avoid more of his anger.

"I'm gonna give you fifteen, and if you lose count we have to start over."

"but papa I can't count that high!"

"yes you can, stop acting stupid and count them for me, loud so we can both hear you."

loud wasn't a problem at all. he hit you hard enough that just the first one made tears sting your eyes instantly. "o-one!"

you looked up at bucky as you kept counting, little whines and whimpers turning quickly into real cries, each slap making you choke and sob louder. you were hoping he would take pity on you, but instead you saw his cock getting hard inside his jeans.

"I think you need a paci to keep you quiet," bucky decided after you could barely managed to say 'nine' due to the force of your crying. but he didn't go get your favorite pink glittery one, no, he was reaching for his belt to get his cock out and rub it on your lips. "go ahead and suck on it, pumpkin," he encouraged gruffly as he shoved it into your mouth, and you forced yourself to hold back the tears so you could focus on sucking him properly. suckling at his leaking head did help with the crying, to be honest, but it did little for the pain itself.

"looks like dada's trying to make you lose count..." your papa taunted. thankfully they were merciful enough to give you breaks from choking on dada bucky's cock so you could count for papa steve, and you breathed a sigh of relief when you reached fifteen and bucky knelt down to wipe your tears away.

"good job pumpkin, you took it well," bucky soothed you, stroking your hair gently as you let out weak little sobs. "you're almost done."

"a-almost?"

"you need a bigger punishment than just spanks, babydoll. you need to learn about patience."

and that you did: specifically, you learned that patience is awful.

"p-please let me move dada!" you begged, squirming on his lap as best you could while he held you down, his cock buried in you but not giving enough friction to provide any pleasure.

"I told you pumpkin, you can't move til I say so."

he held you still for what felt like forever, while papa kissed your neck and played with your tits and your button, whispering about how you were a good girl but you needed to l learn your lesson. you were right on the edge but you couldn't get there without your dada's cock moving in you.

"go ahead and move, pumpkin."

"thank you dada, thank you soooo much," you sobbed with relief, sighing and moaning when you got a chance to lift yourself on top of him. you didn't get much of a chance to do it yourself though, he was already lifting you effortlessly and moving you up and down himself, before quickly moving you to your hands and knees so he could fuck you more aggressively.

you looked up at your papa as you came, tears welling in your eyes from the intensity of the pleasure bucky was giving you.

"papa... I'm hungry..." you whimpered.

but this wasn't the way you said it when you wanted a snack. this was something else, and you knew he knew it. he grinned as he looked down at you. "what are you hungry for, babydoll?"

"wan' daddy's special milk..."

"yeah, I bet you do... if you do a good job and make papa feel good, you'll get lots of milk... is that what you want, sweetheart?"

you nodded and licked your lips, already salivating at the thought. you loved your daddies' milk so much, you craved it almost all the time. the only thing better than tasting and swallowing it was having it put as deep inside you as they could reach, and plugged up so it stayed. thankfully, with two daddies to take care of you, you never had to choose.

steve stuffed your mouth with his cock, holding you by your neck and fucking your throat.

being used at both ends made you feel incredible, you loved being your daddies' special little girl and making them feel good. you moaned happily when papa came all over your tongue, groaning and praising you as you swallowed every drop and sucked diligently to make sure you got all you could.

when he pulled out and you thanked him like always, you addressed bucky immediately. "please come in me dada, wan it in me..."

"yeah? are you daddy's little cumslut?"

"yes!! love it so so much, dada, please put it so deep in me..."

"I'm gonna fuck you really really hard, okay? but only because you asked me to come. no crying if it hurts."

"okie dada..."

you didn't cry, but you nearly screamed when he began to pound into you senselessly, slamming into your cervix with each thrust.

"it's too deep isn't it?"

you nodded, making him laugh. "oh baby, is dada ruining your tiny little pussy?"

you nodded again, biting down on your lip to keep from crying out.

bucky growled as he came, pumping into your abused hole and painting it with his release. you winced when he pulled out, feeling his come mix with yours as it leaked down your thighs

"poor thing, are you sore and achy?" steve cooed, grinning when you nodded. "it's not time for a break yet, I wanna get inside you too, baby."

"can't, papa, too tired."

"that's okay, then we'll just play a game instead. do you remember how to play horsey?"

"I like horsey!"

"good! you get to ride papa like a horsey, isn't that fun?"

well, it wasn't as fun as it sounded, because when you straddled steve on the bed and sink down on his cock, soreness burned between your legs. "hurts, papa... too big..."

"yeah, I know it hurts, but papa wants to play horsey so you need to be a big girl okay?"

you started to pout and cry a little as he pushed all the way into you, shifting to try to relieve your discomfort but only making it worse.

"now just rock back and forth, sweetheart... did you forget how to play like a dumb little baby?"

"n-no..."

just as you were trying to adjust to moving on top of steve, bucky's finger poked at your other hole, a stinging pain shooting up your back when he pushed it in.

"ow, dada!"

"why are you whining, pumpkin?"

"you hurted me!"

"sorry baby, but this is gonna hurt a lot less later if you let me hurt you a little now..."

you tried to be good and take his fingers, but every time it went from hurting to almost feeling good, he would put in more. finally he took them all out and you hoped he was done, but then you felt him pushing his cock against your hole.

"won't fit..." you sighed.

"'m gonna make it fit pumpkin, now hold still..."

you shivered and hissed and scrunched up your face as he pushed into you, trying to squirm away but failing. "dadaaaaa!" you sobbed loudly. "hurts, dada, please stop!!"

"it's supposed to hurt, princess, that's how you know it's working. it means this big cock is stretching out this itty bitty hole for dada. you do know all your holes belong to dada, right?"

"b-but I don't like it..."

"I don't care if you like it. let me use your dirty fucking hole and shut your mouth, you hear me?"

you bit on your lip and nodded weakly, your chest burning with shame from the cruel way bucky was treating you (even though it made your insides tingle with arousal as well).

steve took pity on you though, leaning up to wipe one tear with his thumb before kissing away the other. "is it too much to have both your daddies' cocks in you at once?"

you nodded again, sniffling quietly.

"but you like it anyways, don't you? you like being an obedient cocksleeve for us?"

"yes, papa..."

"and I know you love being full of our special milk... you can get more if you just ask nicely."

"please papa, please dada, wan more of your milk in me..."

"I bet you wanna have your own cummies, isn't that right babydoll?"

you nodded and gasped when steve played with your swollen button again, and you felt your insides tighten around both of them. you couldn't believe you might actually be able to come in spite (or because?) of all this pain.

"dirty little slut. look at you riding two cocks like the filthy whore you are. like the needy little cumdumpster we turned you into. remember when you were all innocent and stupid, baby? when you didn't even know if we would fit? now you're begging for more, drooling and moaning and coming all over your daddies' cocks... taking me up your ass and fucking loving it... desperate bitch."

"bucky," you gasped quietly, taken aback by his words.

"too much?" he whispered back right against your ear.

"no... just right. keep going," you encouraged.

"god, if only you could see how wide your little holes are being stretched right now," he continued, his voice lower than before. "if only you could see us tearing up your princess parts."

"close, dada... gonna have my cummies..."

"go ahead and come, baby, show us how tight you can get, go on, clench real hard for us."

"fuck just like that, gonna fill you up baby"

"you'll be full for days just from this, so full of our milk you won't even be able to think."

when you came you went limp, melting into their arms and losing your ability to do much of anything including say more than a few words at a time. you were totally cockdrunk and exhausted and braindead. bucky said sometimes that you didn't need a brain anyways...

they kept using your exhausted and overstimulated body until they were done with you, putting their come deep in you and finally plugging you up this time (in both holes, of course-- even your mouth too if you count the paci they gave you to nurse while you drifted to sleep on your papa's chest)

"such a good little baby, such a sweet girl for us..."

"get some rest pumpkin, we're so very proud of you"

"you're papa's favorite girl, okay? dada's little angel."

[tommysparker]

Never Forget You [Chapter 3]

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Jedi!Reader

A/N: hey y’all! thank you for your patience with this chapter. enjoy!! :) [also totally didn’t have this in my drafts then forget to post earlier pfftttt whaaaatt?]

Warnings: angst with a tiny amount of fluff. anakin finally makes his debut in this series. it gets better just stay with me. long italic paragraphs = flashbacks

Anakin Skywalker had witnessed many things over the years. 

Giant beasts? At least once a week. Sith Lords? Becoming too common. Droid armies? All year long. Looking death in the eye? Simply another day in the life of a Jedi. 

Nothing could ever have prepared him for the sight he was currently witnessing. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi, his Master, The Negotiator, the Jedi Council’s most prized Jedi…sulking.

It has been a full week since You returned to the Jedi Temple and Anakin couldn’t help to think his former Master’s mood and your arrival were connected. He was vaguely aware of your past friendship, only hearing bits and pieces of the adventures you had together as Padawans. 

During his days under Obi-Wan’s apprenticeship he would often hear about how “a wise Jedi I once knew” would do certain things. He wanted to know more about this oh-so-great Jedi, however, any time the young boy asked his Master would always brush him off with a mournful look in his eyes.  

He didn’t understand at the time but now he’s beginning to piece together that perhaps there was something more between the two of you. 

“You think Master Y/l/n and Master Kenobi were courting?” 

“Keep your voice down, Snips,” Anakin hushed.

“Sorry, sorry. But Master,” Ahsoka lowers her voice, “what led you to that conclusion? I’ve hardly seen them together since Master Y/l/n came back. What makes you think they could be lovers?” 

“That’s just it, Ahoska. They’ve been avoiding each other like the Rakghoul plague. Obi-Wan told me they were such good friends, and now that they’re back they can’t stand to be in the same room as each other? I don’t buy it.” Anakin looked back to where Obi-Wan sat with Commander Cody, no doubt brainstorming new battle tactics and liberation plans. 

“So what do you suppose we do? Set them up or something?” The look her Master gave her made her regret her words the moment they left her mouth. 

“Come on, Snips. It’s a good idea. We get them to stay in the same room so they have no choice but to confront each other and talk things out! It’s genius.” Anakin smiled, his eyes still on his former Master. He had a feeling if Obi-Wan were to find out about this plan he would be in for a major lecture but he couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment. He couldn’t stand to see the old man look so miserable, not if he can do anything about it. 

Ahsoka crossed her arms and followed her Master’s gaze. Something was clearly different about her Grand-Master. He had put his full attention into ending the war, which wasn’t new. However, she could tell something was off. He no longer came out to the landing zone to greet returning fighters, stayed away from the meditation and training centers as well as the Jedi Archives which was the most off-putting observation considering that was where he spent most of his time.

Anytime someone needed to find Obi-Wan Kenobi, the first place they would check was the ancient history section of the Jedi Archives. 

“I don’t know why you find so much interest in these old books Y/n/n,” Obi-Wan complained from across the table. “Can’t we go practice our lightsaber skills instead?” 

You smiled. “Nuh uh, mister. If I won the wager you promised to sit with me during my reading time. Now shush, and read.” You pushed the unopened textbook toward the pouting Padawan. “Maybe you’ll actually learn something.” 

Obi-Wan stuck his tongue out in a childish manner, sighing dramatically when you gave him a certain look and reluctantly opened the cover and began to read Tales of The Old Republic. 

Safe to say from that point onward, Obi-Wan would join your daily Archive visits with zero complaints. 

You close the book, careful to make sure no pages fell out and gently push it back into its place on the shelf. Using the force, you carefully push the ladder you were currently standing on over to the next column and begin nitpicking through the array of old texts. 

It took a few days for you to settle in and readjust to the Jedi Temple life. Once you had, however, things quickly took a turn. 

Master Yoda requested that you help train some of the younglings who were having trouble advancing into the next stages of becoming a Jedi. In all honesty, you much rather have had the freedom to roam for at least one more week, but the new role presented an excuse to not be around a certain blue-eyed Jedi. 

“Looking for something?” 

The voice startled you, causing you to jump and lose your balance on the ladder. You yelp as you begin to fall towards the ground, bracing yourself for the hash impact and the bruises that would add to the collection on your side still currently healing.  

Instead, you feel a pair of arms catch you, one under your back and the other behind your knees in a classic bridal style. The hold felt secure instantly, and you instinctively clung to the tunic of your savior. You look up to thank the person for preventing any injuries, but the blue eyes staring back at you made your mind go blank. 

Obi-Wan stared back, unsure of what to say. This was the closest he has been to you since you left a decade ago. He longed to have you in his arms, to hug you, to regain that safety net you provided he knew he could always fall back on.

“Um...thank you, General.” It came out as more of a question, your mind still reeling from almost falling and also the fact that the man who you had been actively avoiding just happened to be in the same place you spent hours of your youth together. 

“Obi-Wan, please. No need for formalities, darling.” The old nickname slipped out, and he was about to apologize when he noticed the light blush that spread across your face. Perhaps not everything about you has changed. 

“Right...Obi-Wan. Well, I’ll be on my way then,” You rushed, trying to pass by him but he stopped you once again by the call of your name. 

“Y/n/n’s wait. Whatever game you’re playing, frankly I am not a fan of it.” Obi-Wan crossed his arms and furrowed his eyebrows. 

“What are you talking about?” You turned around and looked at him confused. 

“You were the one who summoned me here,” he stretched his arms out, “here I am and now you’re trying to run away again. I hardly think that’s fair.” He was beginning to get frustrated. He came in with his heart on his sleeve, ready to finally talk to you after so long and find out why you’ve been keeping your distance. Now, all he felt was betrayal and irritation at the ongoing dance you insist on doing around each other. 

He preferred to dance like you did in your youth, but alas this was nothing but another sign he needs to get mind out of the past.  

You scoffed lightly. “Again? What is that supposed to mean exactly?” You knew exactly what he meant, but you didn’t want to admit it. You’ve been denying it for ten years and Force be damned if you’d admit it now. 

“You’ve been avoiding me since your return--” You open your mouth to protest but he ignores you and continues “--and then you send the youngling to bring me here, only to try to flee upon my arrival,” He frowns, lifting his elbow and resting it on his remaining crossed arm. “I know our history can make things...difficult in the present time,” He glanced around cautiously as he spoke,”but I would appreciate it if we make an agreement simply to not speak from now on. No more games.” 

You blinked, head tilting slightly as you waited for him to finish. “Obi-Wan, I didn’t ask for you to come here. Nor would I ever involve younglings in personal matters.” He should know that, you thought. But should he really? 

His face fell from annoyance to embarrassment, his arms falling to his sides. “Oh.” He wasn’t sure what to do now. It was his own fault for getting his hopes up. I should have known better. 

You purse your lips and nodded slowly. “Well, I’m glad we at least came to an agreement. Goodbye, General Kenobi.” You took your leave, forcing yourself not to look back as you felt his eyes watching your figure. 

Obi-Wan let out a frustrated sigh, knowing he just ruined any and all changes of reconnecting with you. In his defense, however, you were the one avoiding his attempts at friendly conversation and refusing to meet and make up for lost time.  

Still, something didn’t feel right about this. 

“What the kriff was that?” 

Ah, there’s that something. “Anakin, please tell me this was not your doing.” 

Anakin smiled guilty, Ahsoka coming out from behind the bookshelf to stand next to her Master. 

“It was Snips' idea.” Anakin shrugged, flinching when he felt her punch his arm. “Ow!”

“You were the one who came up with the plan, and now look! Master Y/l/n and Master Kenobi will never get together--” Ahoska stops herself, realizing she said too much. “Oh no.” 

“I beg your pardon?” Obi-Wan looks at them both incredulously. “First of all, Master Y/l/n and I are simply…” he wanted to say friends, but even that was a reach at this point, “acquaintances. We knew each other in the past, and in the past our friendship shall stay. As for ‘getting together’, you both know very well any implication of that goes directly against the Jedi Code.” He crossed his arms tightly as he scolded. 

“I can tell you harbour feelings for them, Obi-Wan. You don’t need to lie to us.” 

“Whatever feelings I may or may not have for Y/n are unrelated. You must understand your responsibilities as a Jedi. No matter what emotional sacrifice we must make.” He made a point to look at Anakin at the end, knowing he won’t follow the implication but at least hoping he’ll get the message.     

“We’re sorry, Master.” Ahsoka looked down in shame not at what they had tried to achieve, but at the cost and clear damage they caused. 

Obi-Wan sighed, running a hand over his beard before resting it on her shoulder. “It’s alright young one. You meant no harm. Perhaps some things are better left forgotten.” 

Oh, if only it were that simple. 

A Padawan approached the three of them quickly. “Excuse me, Master Yoda sent me to tell you he and Master Y/l/n are waiting for you all in the council room.” 

Of course, these things never are. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

heres a box to put your heart pieces in  -> []  :) 

Taglist: @queenariesofnarnia @dwarfplanet69 @katsukink @blondekel77 @generousrunawaydonut @fandomtrashwhore @fortheloveofaqueenfan @mrskenobi19 @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @hotleaf-juice @emiijemii @neji85 @doctor-warthrop @ayamenimthiriel @lizzy-95 @lovelylostminds 

[kpopfanfictrash]

Raise the Barre (Halloween: Jimin’s POV)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: Underage drinking, sexual tension, Y/N’s skirt is short

Word Count: 4,107

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.  

You were a terrible flip cup player.

This was all Jimin could think while he watched you from across the room, one shoulder leaned against the white, stucco wall. You sat casually on the couch, laughing at something Brian had said – a dead giveaway of inebriation, if Jimin had ever seen one. Humor wasn’t among Brian’s commonly listed attributes.

An unfamiliar tightness spread through his chest while Jimin watched until finally, he forced himself to look away.

There was nothing he needed to worry about with Brian, of course. Brian was hooking up with someone from Redfield and besides, if Jimin needed to worry about anyone, it’d be your boyfriend.

Finn, as you’d said on the drive home from the club.

Just remembering that night made Jimin’s head hurt. It’d been two weeks at this point, but he still could remember it as though it were yesterday. He remembered the tightness in your voice when he’d answered the phone, the panic Jimin had felt driving through the streets of the city, and the immediate relief he’d gotten upon arriving and seeing you in one piece.

And then you’d said the word to him – boyfriend.

Jimin remembered being stunned for a few, eternity-stretching seconds.

He still wasn’t sure how he’d missed such a vital piece of information. For a month prior, his crush on you had been steadily building, which meant Jimin had been oddly attentive to what you were doing. He’d never once seen you duck out of class for a phone call. No one had ever picked you up from the studio, nor had he seen you out on dates around campus.

A few guys had even expressed interest in dating you at the start of the year, but you hadn’t seemed interested, so talk of your relationship status had gradually petered out.

Exhaling gently, Jimin pushed himself from the wall and entered the kitchen. Filling his drink up again, he glanced up when Sabrina walked into the room. Tightly, Jimin smiled.

He and Sabrina had hooked up at the beginning of the semester, which had led to one of the most awkward run-ins of Jimin’s existence. Sabrina had been leaving his room when you decided to arrive, and Jimin had spent the entire encounter wearing his boxers. Which was great. At the time, he’d merely shrugged it off as uncomfortable, but now the memory continued to grate on his conscience.

Sabrina had texted him a few weeks ago, inviting him over but Jimin had declined. He’d told her they were better off as friends, at which point she’d simply decided to ghost him. Jimin hadn’t really cared at the time – it was around then he’d started having feelings for you.

Feelings which turned out to be pointless since you already had a boyfriend.

Gaze lowering, Jimin saw what Sabrina was wearing and couldn’t help it – he laughed. “A ballerina?” he asked, unable to stop himself. “Really?”

Sabrina scowled and poured herself a drink. “A short-notice invitation means you get a short-notice costume. Okay?”

Jimin’s brow furrowed. “Short notice?”

“Yeah.” She paused. “I, uh… wasn’t going to come until yesterday.”

Jimin wisely chose not to comment, shrugging in response as they left the kitchen. In the corner of his eye, he thought he saw you looking at him, but when he glanced up, Jimin saw you stand from the couch. Noelle was calling you over, waving you into another game of flip cup.

Sighing, Jimin set down his newly filled cup. It wasn’t as though you needed a white knight, or anything but someone at this party had to stay sober. It wouldn’t be you if you kept pounding drinks the way you were and so, Jimin relinquished his own.

Frowning in concentration, you set your cup down on the table and attempted to flip. When you succeeded, you cheered and spun around in a circle, causing the end of your skirt to flare up.

Jimin swallowed, hard.

Of all the nights, you’d chosen to dress that way tonight. Truthfully, you wore less clothes to your ballet classes – only a leotard and tights – but Jimin was a professional, and there was nothing sexy about Mr. Vlad shouting corrections at him while sweat dripped into places Jimin thought best not to mention.

Now though, you were wearing the shortest dress Jimin had ever seen and it was making him slowly lose his mind. The flimsy material barely covered the tops of your thighs, which made Jimin want to lift you onto the counter, press his hands into the available skin, push your dress higher and –

Exhaling roughly, Jimin shoved a hand through his hair. He needed to get ahold of himself. It’d been too long since he’d last spoken and now, Sabrina was watching him curiously. Before Jimin could look away, her gaze followed to you.

“Interesting.” Sabrina arched a brow. “Doesn’t she have a boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” Jimin muttered.

For a moment, he considered drinking the cup he’d just set down.

Sabrina gave a small laugh but, oddly enough, there was no bite to it. “So, that’s why you said you didn’t want to hook up.”

Jimin gave a small shrug, his right shoulder rising and falling. “That, and other reasons.”

Sabrina nodded. She took a long sip of her drink before she walked off, coming to a stop beside Jasmine across the room.

Jimin was left alone with his thoughts, until Hoseok waved him over to play the next game. Jimin joined, playing with water and by the time Ubers were called for the club, he felt decidedly more sober than an hour prior.

This was in stark contrast to you, who’d apparently decided to leave your coat in Paulo’s apartment. Jimin noticed this as soon as he stepped outside, spotting you shivering as he approached the curb.

“Y/N?” he asked, coming to a stop. “Hey, where’s your coat?”

“Inside,” you said, teeth chattering. “I’m fine, though. I’m fine!”

Eying you suspiciously, Jimin scanned the sidewalk. “Where’s Paulo?” he said. “I’ll grab him, we can get your coat before we go –”

You huffed, an impatient sound as you grabbed his sleeve and dragged him towards the car. “The Uber’s already here, though,” you argued. “I’ll be fine from here to the club!”

If it hadn’t been further to Paulo’s apartment than to the car, Jimin would have protested, but as it was, he simply sighed and followed suit. You pulled open the door to the SUV, clambering inside to sit in the last row. Glancing over his shoulder, Jimin realized Hoseok and Noelle were waiting, which meant he’d need to join you in the back.

Squeezing into the small space beside you, Jimin tried his best to stay separate, but to no avail. The backseat was tiny, and his left knee pressed to yours, fingers fumbling at your side when he buckled his seatbelt.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, squishing further away.

“Jimin.” You arched a brow. “Are we going to go through this again? Your hands have been in way more inappropriate places than that this semester.”

That said, you grabbed hold of the middle seat and hoisted yourself upwards.

Jimin’s mind seemed to short-circuit.

Forget about your teasing tone – now your delectable, barely-clothed ass hovered before his face. As Jimin had previously noted, your dress was very short. The skirt barely covered your panties and from where he was sitting, Jimin could tell they were light blue in color, edged with lace.

Fingers digging into his palms, Jimin forced himself to look away. It’d be a long time before he forgot that particular visual. The car pulled from the curb, making his stomach lurch while he fought to stay in control.

You had a boyfriend, Jimin reminded himself as he stared out the window. You were off-limits, so he needed to stop thinking about you in that way. This could only end badly if it continued, but he still couldn’t keep his disloyal heart from racing.

Plopping down in your seat, you turned sideways to face him. “Um,” you said, seemingly oblivious to Jimin’s inner anguish. “So, what happened to your teeth?”

Jimin forced himself to look sideways. “Casualty of flip cup,” he said with as much nonchalance as he could muster. “One of them fell out during the game and I couldn’t find where it rolled.”

You frowned, seriously considering his predicament and Jimin’s heart did a flip. The most adorable dimple had appeared in your brow and he fervently wished he could smooth it away.

“Well, that’s okay,” you said slowly. “You can just be one of those vampires who blend in with normal humans. You know, the kind whose fangs only come out when they want to bite someone.”

Do you like that? The thought entered Jimin’s mind before he could stop it, but he luckily managed not to say it out loud.

With a wan smile, he arched his brow. “That’s true. Lucky for you, I’m not hungry.”

Well. He kind of managed not to say it out loud.

“Lucky for me? Lucky for you. My blood is about half-alcohol right now. If you drank my blood, you’d be a very silly vampire.”

The idea of this made you laugh, tipping your head back and flashing a white row of teeth. Jimin couldn’t help but smile, a confusing mix of endearment and alarm swirling through him. He wondered how much you’d had to drink before you left Paulo’s.

He hadn’t been watching you the entire night, after all.

Only most of it.

“A silly vampire, huh?” he mused. “Damn, Y/N – when was the last time you went out? Your tolerance is shit.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I haven’t drunk much this semester. Too much dance, too little time. I think the last time I went out was –”

Jimin winced when Noelle pulled open the door, a blast of cold air hitting him in the face.

“We’re here!” she squealed, launching herself outside.

Jimin blinked, attempting to pull himself together. You’d stopped talking mid-sentence, sitting up straighter and Jimin felt a vague twinge of annoyance at the car ride ending so soon. Then, he noticed you shivering.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked gently. “I can give you, uh…”

“Your shirt?” you said wryly, clambering over the seat. “Then you’d be shirtless, Park. Let’s think this through.”

Stifling his laugh, Jimin ducked his head as he followed. You were right, after all. He didn’t have anything to give you, even if he wished he did.

“Come on!” you yelled, starting to run towards the club.

Jimin purposefully hung back, waiting for Hoseok before he made his entrance. He needed a few moments alone, needed some distance between you. It was embarrassing how quickly you managed to tear down his walls.

Jimin had always been drawn to you, but this was something else entirely. Over the past several weeks, you’d let your guard down and Jimin had realized exactly what he’d missed out on. He’d seen how funny you were, how determined, how smart and how fierce you could be. And now that he’d seen it all, Jimin found himself wanting more.

He couldn’t have more though since you were already taken. You already had a boyfriend, which meant Jimin needed to back off.

Bitterness tinged his thoughts as he entered the club, although his eyes quickly widened when he saw the décor. This place was nice. Noelle had seriously undersold her brother’s connections. He and Hoseok weren’t even asked to show their fake IDs at the door; they were simply waved in.

When he and Hoseok reached their reserved table, Jimin entered the tail end of a conversation. Jasmine wanted to dance, which Irene and Paulo readily agreed to.

“What about you, Y/N?” asked Irene, turning your way. “You in?”

It seemed as though you were about to say yes when Jimin saw you glance at the floor. Something in your expression wavered and after a moment, you slowly exhaled.

“That’s okay,” you said, turning back. “I think I’m going to stay here for a while. I’ll join you later!”

Irene frowned, but finally nodded and left with the rest. Hoseok followed suit, punching Jimin in the arm and yelling something about shots. Jimin told him he’d be down in a second, even though he knew this was a lie.

You sat down alone in the booth, staring at the dance floor and looking vaguely miserable. Something unfamiliar unfurled in Jimin’s chest – protectiveness, or something like it. Before he could talk himself out of it, Jimin lowered himself beside you.

“You didn’t want to dance?” he asked.

Surprised, you glanced sideways and realized Jimin had stayed.

Looking away, Jimin began to undo his cuffs. His heartbeat hammered his ribcage, and he was deathly afraid you’d hear and know his intentions were far from honorable. There was nothing remotely close to friendship on Jimin’s mind tonight. He was kidding himself if he said there was.

“No,” you said with a sigh, crossing your legs. Jimin’s jaw tensed, remembering the flash of blue panties from earlier. “I just don’t really feel like it.”

“Is this the whole hating clubs thing again?”

“Kind of.” You shrugged. “I don’t know. Club dancing isn’t like normal dancing, you know?”

Bewildered, Jimin finally looked up and met your gaze. He didn’t understand why you felt this way but could only assume your boyfriend had something to do with it. Club dancing was fun when you were with the right people.

“It is when you’re at a club full of dancers,” he said, pointing towards the floor.

Following his hand, you saw Jasmine dancing onstage like a crazed, Disney vision. A smile crossed your lips and you nodded before you turned back.

“Okay,” you admitted. “That does look like fun. The last time I was at a club was with Finn.”

Jimin blinked, attempting to piece together what one statement had to do with the other. “Sorry,” he said. “What?”

Before he could move though, you leaned forward and now Jimin could smell your perfume, your shampoo, and the faintest hint of musk beneath that.

“In the cab,” you said, completely unaware of what you were doing to him. “You asked me when I last went out. It was that night… um…” Trailing off, your gaze flicked to his. “The night you came and picked me up.”

Jimin seemed to stop breathing.

What he needed to do was leave, he decided. Get up and leave, maybe go down to the dance floor. He could dance with someone else, go home with someone else – bury himself inside someone else and try and forget about you.

The moment this thought crossed his mind, the utter wrongness of it tore through his chest. He wanted you. Not someone else.

Abruptly, Jimin made his decision and stood, holding out a hand.

You stared at this in confusion. “What are you doing?”

Feeling slightly foolish, Jimin retracted the gesture. “Taking you down to the dance floor,” he insisted. “Come on, Y/N! You don’t have to give out dry lap dances, or whatever.”

The expression of betrayal you adopted was enough to make Jimin smile.

“Hey!” you blurted. “You said you’d forget all about that.”

“Seriously.” He grinned. “We can just do the sprinkler, or something. It’ll be fun!”

He waited for you to respond, unsure why he was trying so hard.

He shouldn’t be working this hard to see you smile, but all Jimin could think was how sad you’d looked a few minutes ago. It was worth it to make you happy, even if you didn’t leave with Jimin tonight. Even if someone else got to benefit from your presence.

Finally, you nodded. “The sprinkler?” you said as you stood. “Was that really the first move you thought of?”

“Nah,” Jimin said, turning around. “My go-to move is the criss-cross, but I figured this was more your speed.”

You laughed, but Jimin barely heard it as you walked down the stairs. His head was already spinning, unsure what he was doing, but the moment the Russet group came into view, Noelle saw you and cheered.

“Y/N!” she called as you entered the crowd.

Jimin let you leave, knowing it was for the best. Hoseok challenged him to a dance-off, and Jimin began to lose track of time after that. It wasn’t long before people started splitting off in search of drinks or entertainment.

At some point, Jimin glanced up and realized it was only you left. You were the one egging him on, not Hoseok but somehow, Jimin found it wasn’t weird. His dance moves became sillier and more ridiculous, which was unusual. He wasn’t normally like this, but something about you lowered his inhibitions.

As he spun around in a circle, Jimin felt his hand connect with something hard and a drink went flying.

In horror, Jimin turned and saw he’d soaked the six foot tall behemoth behind him. Wiping blue drink from his eyes, the guy looked angrily down and locked gazes with Jimin.

“Shit,” you breathed, grabbing hold of his arm. “Run!”

Jimin protested, but you had a tight grip and eventually, he gave in and followed.

“No, wait – let me apologize!” Jimin said, trying to turn back. “I can pay for his drink! I can –”

You were cracking up, out of breath when you finally spun around.

Jimin came to a halt. You’d traveled deeper into the crowd, bodies pressing against him from every side. Jimin realized he couldn’t move, but neither did he want to. You were standing so close to him. So close, he could count each individual eyelash and feel the trembling heat from your body.

The dull thump of bass filled the air and, rather than move, you slowly blinked. A second ago you’d been laughing, but no more. Gaze oddly intense, you studied his features and Jimin desperately wished to know what you were thinking.

Before he could ask, someone bumped into you from behind and sent you flying. Jimin caught you without thinking, pulling you closer and when you glanced up at him in surprise, his mind became a perfect blank. For a moment he couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but hold you against him.

Somehow, his thigh had become wedged between yours and the soft warmth of your body embedded itself in his mind. Jimin nearly combusted at your touch – nearly bent and crushed your lips to his – but before he could do anything at all, you shifted.

The movement was subtle, barely even there, but it shredded what remained of Jimin’s self-control. Grip tightening on your arms, he allowed blatant desire to bleed into his gaze.

It could have been his imagination, but he swore he heard a soft gasp from your lips. Gaze hardening, your fingers curled in his shirt as you moved your hips again; this time on purpose.

Jimin broke, grip tightening further to drag you up his thigh. He saw your eyelashes flutter, a lone vein pulsing in your jaw as you tipped your head back. The song in the background was darker, more seductive when Jimin lowered his head. Hands sliding up the panes of your back, he pulled you closer and brushed his lips to your ear.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice embarrassingly soft.

Suddenly, you froze.

In a panic, your eyes flew open.

When they met his, some of the haze seemed to clear from Jimin’s brain. He realized with horror exactly what he was doing. Holding you like this, touching you like this in the middle of a dance floor surrounded by all your friends from Russet. Anyone could have seen, and you – well, you had a boyfriend. You weren’t Jimin’s to dance with.

Something cracked in your gaze as you realized this, dropping your arms.

“I have to go,” you blurted before you whirled around.

Jimin stared after, his feet frozen solid, stuck to the floor. He was dimly aware he should follow but had no idea what to say. He’d messed up. It had been a giant mistake to think he could be close to you tonight and not give into temptation.

But then, again – he hadn’t been the only one who’d given in.

Jerking himself from his trance, Jimin forced his feet to move as he entered the crowd. It hadn’t been his imagination the way you’d looked at him tonight. The way you’d danced with him, the noises you’d made. He needed to find you. He needed to ask you what it all meant, but by the time he reached the edge of the dance floor, you were already gone.

Desperately, Jimin searched but you were nowhere to be found. Gut sinking, he began to retrace his steps and nearly ran into the blue drink guy from earlier. Hastily, he retreated and made his way across the room.

Jimin was beginning to understand your aversion to clubs. Everyone in here was loud, drunk and he couldn’t stop thinking about what might happen to you while you were separated. Jimin desperately hoped you’d learned your lesson from last time and hadn’t exited the building.

“Noelle!” he called as he broke through the crowd.

Glancing down from the stage, Noelle seemed surprised when she saw Jimin approach. He supposed he looked like a mess and, reaching hastily upwards, attempted to smooth down his hair.

“What?” she yelled back, leaning over the edge of the platform.

Jimin craned his neck upwards. “Have you seen Y/N?”

“What? Y/N?”

“Have you seen her?” he called.

“No?” Noelle’s gaze narrowed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Jimin’s stomach churned. If you hadn’t come here, he needed to keep looking. “I – nothing.” Shaking his head, he took a step backwards. “I just… yeah. Nothing.”

Turning around, he plunged into the crowd and wondered what the hell he was doing. If Jimin wanted to be more obvious, he could just hang a sign around his neck saying he had a gigantic crush on you.

Coming to a stop at the edge of the dance floor, Jimin dug around in his pocket to pull out his phone. He was about to dial your number when he saw a flash of movement in the corner of his eyes. Glancing over, he saw you as you exited a dark hall labeled restrooms. Lowering his phone, Jimin began to walk towards you, only to pause when you pulled out your phone.

You were dialing.

Coming to a stop beside coat check, you began calling someone and although Jimin stood still and waited, his phone refused to ring. Glancing down, Jimin confirmed this and a frown tugged at his lips.

Suddenly, his stomach plummeted.

You were calling Finn. Of course, you were – you’d called your boyfriend to come pick you up, which was the perfect, cyclical ending to this perfect, cyclical night. Closing his eyes, Jimin tried to slow his breathing before he opened them again.

He saw you speaking to someone and the knot in his chest gradually loosened. At least your boyfriend had managed to pick up his phone this time. At least you were safe and wouldn’t be alone. Slipping his phone back in his pocket, Jimin turned around and made straight for the bar.

Dark, viscous emotions warred in his chest and before he could stop himself, Jimin found himself ordering a whiskey. Tapping his fingers against the bar, he waited for his drink and stared at the dance floor.

After a while, he couldn’t help it – he looked. He couldn’t stop himself from checking what you were doing. When it came to you, all sense of self-preservation seemed to fly out the window.

It was surprising then, when Jimin saw Noelle burst from the crowd. She hurried to where you were standing and Jimin realized with shock you’d called her, not Finn.

Before he could react to this, a glass of whiskey was pressed into his waiting hand. Feeling somewhat dazed, Jimin lifted this to his lips.

Merciless hope bloomed within and Jimin tried his best to squash it. Hope only seemed to bring more disappointment when it came to you. The truth of the matter was you weren’t his to want.

With a low sigh, Jimin lowered his drink and turned from the bar.

Tomorrow, he decided. Tomorrow he’d call and ask you to forget everything about tonight. As much as it pained him – as much as he wanted to invite you over right now, to imprint your body against his on the sheets – Jimin also didn’t want to have you like this.

He wanted you to be entirely his, and that couldn’t happen tonight.

Tomorrow, though.

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! 😊 

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST 

© kpopfanfictrash, 2021. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[bokutoslittlebird]

His Turn

Atsumu x reader x Bokuto

Author’s Note : smutty little drabble. Mostly Bokuto fucking the reader while Atsumu enjoys the show ; IM SORRY IM VV BIASED ; “Surprise shawty!” is what inspired this. You’ll understand.

Warnings: threesome, communication is not established beforehand, dash of dubcon (maybe? I don’t know), high school sweethearts Atsumu and reader-chan, size kink, dirty talk, spitroasting, face fucking, blowjob, praise [from Bokuto], degradation [from Atsumu], use of “bunny”, creampie, no condoms sorry, Bokuto licks you one (1) time

Sounds of sneakers squeaking on the gym floor is the first thing that welcomes you upon entering through the metal doors. The packaged lunch in your hand has Atsumu’s name on it, the poor guy forgetting it in his rush. The MSBY Black Jackals had a team meeting early that morning, only to then go into a practice match between them and the Schweiden Adlers. The ball slamming against the floor broke you from the awe upon entering, eyes focusing on the man who was currently cheering. If memory serves right, that would be Bokuto Kōtarō. A clap on the back from Atsumu and the affectionate name of ‘Bokkun’ tells you you’re correct. Finding them all busy, you go over to the coach and explain what you’re doing there.

Once approved to stay until lunch break, you seat yourself next to Atsumu’s and Bokuto’s towels and bottles, watching the match. You knew your boyfriend was an excellent setter, as well as a server, but watching him in action was new to you. Yet, you found your eyes constantly drawn to the boisterous boy on the court who seemingly infected everyone around him with energy. Watching him be excited made you excited, the obvious lingering gaze on him instead of Atsumu. Even so, the boys didn’t notice you. Too focused on the game, they are honed into the ball and where it’s going.

The whistle blowing has your own thoughts stopping, looking at the referee who tells them it’s time for a break. Everyone seems to relax more at that, moving towards the benches for their lunches and water. Atsumu finally notices you, a pep in his step as he bounces over. “Ya made it!”

“You act like you didn’t have faith in me. It’s just a small delivery,” you smile, holding out the bag of lunch. Atsumu thanks you, sitting on the floor between your legs. “I can get up, you know,”

“Nah, I’m fine down here. I like the view,” he winks, your foot nudging his thigh. Rolling your eyes, you turn to the rest of his team, confusion etched across their faces as they stare.

“‘Tsumu, I think your team doesn’t know who I am,”

“Oh, shit, of course,” his jumbled mess of words come out around a mouth full of his sandwich. After swallowing, he turns to his teammates and smiles, chest puffed proudly. “This is my wonderful, adorable, and lovely girlfriend, [Y/N],”

“You have a girlfriend?” Sakusa asks, disgust on his face. You giggle at that while Atsumu pouts.

“Wow, you’re really pretty!” Hinata’s compliment has your face heating up, waving your hand in front of your face as you turn to see Bokuto staring at you.

“You really are,” he agrees with Hinata, a bright smile blooming across his face. The genuine smile has your face on fire, not so used to so much attention. Atsumu seems to focus his attention on you, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ve never been the center of attention before,” your murmur is low, but Atsumu hears it over the conversation of everyone else. Bokuto seats himself next to you, your reaction is immediately to straighten your back and look at your hands. Every now and then, your eyes glance up to Atsumu and over to Bokuto before they go back down. It doesn’t take long for Atsumu to understand why you keep looking at Bokuto, a grin stretching across his face that he hides by taking a sip of water.

When the coach calls for practice to start back up, you take it upon yourself to leave. You don’t want to interfere with their playing and you find yourself liking the energetic player with the number 12 a little bit more than you want to. Atsumu gives you a peck on the cheek goodbye, telling you he’ll be home for dinner before jogging back to his position on the court. You wave goodbye to everyone, getting an energetic wave from Bokuto that has your chest fluttering.

You just hope Atsumu didn’t notice.

You love Atsumu, you really do. He’s your high school sweetheart and you’ve been through thick and thin together. Bokuto is very attractive, you can admit that to yourself, but he’s not Atsumu. You don’t actually know him like you know Atsumu and he doesn’t actually know you. Still, his genuine smile and that simple sentence— your chest warms at the memory.

That evening goes as every evening does. Before dinner finishes up, Atsumu comes through the door and gives you a nice, big, sweaty hug. It’s kind of gross, but you still love him anyways. You tell at him to wash up and by the time he’s finished, dinner is ready to serve and plated. After dinner, you both watch some TV. By the time the clock is striking 9:00 pm, you’re tired and so Atsumu, but he seems excited.

That’s new.

It isn’t until you get into the bedroom do you understand why he’s excited. He tells you to strip down to your underwear and then leaves. The creaking of the door opening confuses you, but then Atsumu is back.. with Bokuto. The man who seemed to work his way into your heart with a smile and a sentence is suddenly in your bedroom doorframe.

“Uh, ‘Tsumu? What’s— what’s going on?” you chuckle, eyes flitting from your boyfriend and Bokuto, who seems excited at the sight. You have a feeling he’d have jumped you if Atsumu wasn’t in front of him.

“It was a surprise. You seem to like him after meeting him,” he continues before you can stop him, “so, here he is! He’s full of energy, plus I’ve always wondered what it looked like to see you get fucked looked like,”

“Atsumu! That’s crude!” But you’re smiling. Atsumu then gestures from Bokuto to you.

“Please, enjoy your stay,” he grins. Bokuto nods, moving into the room. His joggers don’t hide the erection beneath them, the mere size of it has you clenching around nothing. A smirk paints across your lips as you look to Atsumu, who’s settling himself against the closed door.

“Shall I assume I’m in the classic position?”

“Please,” he smirks back, watching as you move from your sitting position to have your hands and knees on the bed. The shuffling of clothing behind you suddenly stops, so you turn your head and wiggle your butt to entice Bokuto.

“C’mon, big boy. Show me what you got,” you grin, watching his face bloom a sweet shade of pink as he gets on the bed. But he doesn’t touch you quite yet.

“Are you sure I’m allowed?”

“I could show you, if you prefer it that way,” Atsumu’s offer is almost immediately declined. Bokuto’s rapid shake of the head has Atsumu relaxing against the wall, an evident erection in his pants. “Then go on. Show me how well you can fuck my girlfriend, Bokkun,”

It’s the last thing Bokuto needs.

Large hands practically shred your panties, ripping them down to your knees that are firmly planted against the bed. A murmur of “sweet pussy,” comes from behind you, followed by Bokuto’s tongue flicking against your folds. Even his tongue is thick and wide, delving between the skin and swiping at the bit of juices leaking from your cunt. The obscene sounds of slurping comes from behind you, hands grasping at the sheets as your eyes roll. The feeling is more intense than when Atsumu does it, the ministrations having a bit of hurried fervor to them, licking and slurping as if it’s his last meal on earth. Moans spill from your lips, mouth continuously open as they do.

The common feeling of an orgasm rises in your gut, the knot twisting as your toes curl. Light headedness follows, a strained mewl as your body twitches coming soon after and Bokuto groans, the vibrations causing more slick to slip out. When he removes his face from between your legs, you can barely lift your head up. “How does she taste?”

“Absolutely delicious. As sweet as I thought she would,” Bokuto coos, pressing kisses against your skin, trailing them up your back until his lips run against your throat, stopping at your cheek. His tongue flicks out against the sweaty skin, leaving a sticky trail of his saliva. “You’re just so beautiful,”

With his head next to yours, his arms caging you in, it suddenly hits hot big he is compared to you. The simple act of him over you making you feel so small that has you practically creaming. Bokuto’s cock brushes against your folds, the tip rubbing in the slick as coating it. “She’s a beautiful slut, aren’t you?” Atsumu says, voice low and tinged with lust. Instead of a proper response, you whine at the feeling of Bokuto rubbing his cock past your folds, teasing the entrance. Feeling his cock just brushing against you, your folds parting to encompass him has you whining at the anticipation. You know he’s bigger than Atsumu, thicker at least.

You’re right.

The scream that comes from your throat once Bokuto plunges into your tiny cunt has his groaning, eyes rolling as he’s only 1/3 of the way in you. Squeezing him so tightly, you’re practically gushing around his girth. But Bokuto doesn’t move, gentle shushes as he runs his large hand up and down your sides, occasionally dipping over your ass and down your thighs.

“It’s okay, pretty girl. I got you, I got you,” he coos, lips brushing against your spine as you grit your teeth and attempt to move back. Large hands grip your sides, growling. “Don’t hurt yourself,”

“More! I wan’ more, Bokkun,” your whines have him pushing in, listening to your request. No more screams, but you do happen to mewl, mixed with whimpers as he continues to split you open farther than Atsumu ever has. It’s a horrible thing, wishing Bokuto could fuck you everyday with the way he stretches you out. He’s so big, body completely encompassing yours as his weight keeps you pinned down with your ass in the air.

“God, you’re so beautiful. Can’t believe I get to wreck this pussy, all while your boyfriend watches from the sidelines,” Bokuto grunts, hips slapping against your ass as he starts a rhythm. Eyes rolling once more, you moan as you grin, lost in pleasure. The feeling is just so good, your walls fluttering around him as drool drips from your lips, muffled mewl that goes into the sheets as a second orgasm comes on, the feeling of bliss and euphoria filling your body as the liquid drips down Bokuto’s cock. Curling and sticking to his hair, it has strands of the slick connecting his hips to your ass as he fails into you.

So lost in the pleasure of Bokuto’s cock in you, you don’t even notice Atsumu has moved from his original position against the door. Suddenly, his hard cock is thrusted in front of your face as he pulls on your hair, dark eyes lidded as they look down at you. “You’re having too much fun, slut. Now open your fucking mouth,”

“Don’t be so mean, Tsum-Tsum. A cute little bunny like her needs praise, don’t you, pretty girl?” When Bokuto calls you ‘bunny’ and ‘pretty girl’, you find yourself clenching around him, moaning in agreement. “She likes that,”

“Slutty little bunnies just like being fucked, that’s all she is,” Atsumu grunts, hand tugging on your hair to keep your mouth on his cock. “Fuck, both your holes are good,” his moans come out more as you focus on utilizing your tongue, pressing it against the underside and flicking it against the slit. He keeps his hand in your hair, but he doesn’t tug hard as Bokuto’s pace picks up, your body bouncing with each thrust.

“Fuck, you’re so good. So fucking good,” Bokuto’s voice gets higher with each smack of his hips against you. His heavy balls are dripping with your cum, slick and smacking against your clit as the burning sensation of overstimulation set in. Your walls burn, the stretch becoming uncomfortable as Bokuto’s cock rubs against them. Atsumu’s cock goes farther in your mouth each time Bokuto thrusts up into you, cock bumping against the roof of your mouth. It isn’t until Bokuto lets out a whine of his own, burying himself to the hilt as his strong arms press you close to him. Atsumu pulls you all the way down on his cock, head thrown back as he groans, his hot load shooting down your throat. The feeling of Bokuto’s cum filling you up has your eyes widening, but you suck him dry. Feeling his cock rub against your walls and his balls tending against your clit as he finishes has your walls squeezing him tightly, like a vice.

Eventually, both of them finish shooting their loads into your holes. Bokuto’s arms release you as Atsumu’s hand lets your hair go. Your body falls against the bed, laying on your side as your legs spread. Bokuto’s cum spurts out of your cunt, oozing down your thigh and over your ass. In the afterglow of everything, the only sound filling the room now is heavy breathing.

Bokuto breaks the silence first, his cock still hard and covered in cum. “Can I go again?” He whines. You smile at him before looking to Atsumu, who runs a hand through his hair.

“Have at it, big boy. It’s your turn, after all,”

[frostedfaves]

Repercussions (15)

Masterlist

Pairing: dark!Natasha Romanoff x dark!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha and Wanda search for their printsessa with the help of Tony.

Warnings: dark themes, gun use, blood mention, serious injury

A/N: am I devastated that this is the final part of one of my favorite things I’ve ever written? absolutely! but I’m also really happy with myself for being able to turn the images in my head for this ending into coherent words. I’ve been holding onto this idea for weeks and I’m ecstatic to see everyone’s response to it. I’ll be letting you know later on this week what’s coming next! 👀

Previous part

-

With Clint’s assistance, Natasha and Wanda were able to quickly create a plan and make their way to the last base, using the fear and anger of their girlfriend’s disappearance to barrel through anyone that stood in the way of intel collection. They wasted no time in waking everyone up when they returned to the safe house.

“Is there a security breach?” Steve questioned as the group gathered, and Natasha tossed the hard drive at him.

“We got everything, and we need to get back--”

“Oh, I get it,” Sam cut in with an eye roll. “They rushed through the mission to get back to their girlfriend so they can cuddle and all that cute shit--”

“She’s missing!” Wanda growled as her eyes began to glow, causing Sam to step back a few feet with wide eyes.

Everyone aside from Clint started asking questions all at once, and Natasha shut them all down with a stern command to be ready to fly out in ten minutes. Bags were packed and bodies were dressed as the team rushed to get to the jet, afraid of what might happen if they delayed the two women any longer.

“While we’re checking out the house, I need someone looking into Wesley L/N,” Natasha ordered, nodding as Tony volunteered and sending him all the information she had.

“Who is this, her brother?”

“Her cousin, if that’s even true--”

“It is, we checked the family history,” Wanda insisted, grabbing Natasha’s hand with a shaky breath. “They’re really close, he wouldn’t hurt her.”

“We don’t know that! Anyone can do something terrible if they’re pushed far enough--”

“Stop! Just fucking stop!” Wanda cried out as she covered her face with her hands, and Natasha moved to wrap her arms around her as she sat in the seat beside her.

“I’m sorry, Wan. I’m just worried and my brain is wired to go to the worst case scenario instantly.”

Wanda simply sniffled as tears started spilling down her cheeks again, leaning her head against Natasha’s shoulder as she accepted the comforting embrace. After a few minutes of silence between the pair, Wanda dropped her hands into her lap as she glanced at green eyes already absentmindedly staring at her, lowering her voice as she spoke.

“I want to ruin his mind before we kill him.”

-

The house felt empty and colder without your presence, every step on the carpeted floor of the front room seemed to echo around the building. Tears threatened to build in Wanda’s eyes again but she held them back, intent on believing that they will find you and bring you back where you belong. Only they could take care of what you needed.

A heavy feeling washed over their hearts when they entered your solo room and discovered some of your clothes and shoes were missing, along with the travel bag you’d first arrived with. The guest room Wesley resided in was also void of his presence, and anything that could clue them into where he’d taken you. 

“Tash, look.”

Natasha followed her gaze to the security room, cursing loudly in Russian when she noticed the door left wide open. She stormed inside, clenching her fist in anger when she noticed the tiny plastic baggie holding the miniscule tracker that was supposed to be in your leg right now.

“He’s a psychiatrist, not a fucking surgeon!” she fumed as she showed the object to Wanda. “How did he get this out?!”

Wanda walked around her to get to one of the computers, logging in as fast as her fingers would allow her to type and bringing up the security footage from the last several days. For the most part, the two of you acted normally, doing all the things you’d told them about like playing games and watching TV, but the sight of the two of you emerging from the TV room in the basement and entering the game room brought something to her attention.

“Did you see that?” She backed up the footage and switched over to slow motion. “She’s limping.”

“Isn’t that the day she hurt her leg in the backyard?”

“Yes, but…” The backyard footage is brought up next and skipped through until the moment of your ‘injury’. “This happened almost two hours later, meaning--”

“It was a cover for the tracker removal.” Natasha cursed once more as she released a frustrated sigh. “She’s getting locked in her room as soon as she gets back here.”

A notification similar to a phone ringing went off on one of the monitors, and the two women scurried over to answer the incoming call from Tony.

“Everything you had on this Wesley kid checks out, no criminal history or secret ties to any Hydra related groups, or anything else you have to worry about. However, I tried tracking and hacking into his phone and it seems to be wiped clean. So I got into his phone records with his cell company and his last call was made to an unsaved number connected to someone named Kendall, last known address in Nebraska.”

“Send it to us, please.”

They were on their feet as soon as the call ended, grabbing the mission bags abandoned in the doorway and heading off to their respective rooms to repack for the trip.

In nearly the same moment, you were in your safe house in Nebraska, rounding the corner to enter Wesley’s room. He knew something was wrong by the way your eyes watered and your shaky hand held onto the bugging device.

“They found us.” There was no questioning tone in his voice, but you answered with a nod anyway.

“Pack everything you brought and get out of here, drive toward the west coast until you run out of gas and hide wherever you stop.”

“What?! I can’t leave you here! They’ll just take you back and it’ll be worse than before.”

“I’ll be fine, Wes,” you assured him with a gentle squeeze of your hand over his. “I planned for this too, and if I know them as well as I think, I’ll be free to come find you.”

-

Wesley was packed and gone within the next hour, and you worked quickly to transform the space, make it seem as if you’d been the only one to reside in the home. Once that was set, you changed clothes and positioned yourself in an armchair against the wall in the front room, a gun resting in your lap. You didn’t move when a knock was heard on the front door that night, simply waited until the visitors got impatient and picked the lock to force their way in.

“You worried us, printsessa, disappearing like that,” Natasha addressed you in a chilling tone as the two of them stopped a few feet away from you. “And we’ll deal with that later, after you tell Wesley to come out so we can punish him first.”

“He’s not here,” you told her calmly. “His only job was to bring me here--”

“And take the tracker out of your leg, which we will be putting back,” Wanda interjected with a stern expression. “Now, you can either come with us to the car willingly or we’ll drag you.”

“I won’t be doing either of those things.” You stood slowly, lifting the gun to your temple as you went. “Your only choices are to leave me here and go back to the way your lives were before I came in, or you can let me die. If you take me again, I’ll just fight you every day until you wish you’d killed me yourself. No matter how you manipulate my mind, my true self will never love someone who wants to control me. I’ll tell you how much I hate you for ruining my life every second I’m able, and I’ll kill myself the moment I get the chance to do so.”

You noticed the glassy look in their eyes as they faced each other, and you knew they were having a silent conversation in their minds. Seconds felt like minutes as they seemed to discuss their options, eventually turning back to face you. Wanda was fully crying now, and Natasha seemed to be physically holding back her own emotional break.

“We always thought we’d be able to love and care for you until our dying days.” Her shaky voice filled the quiet room. “But we understand if you don’t want that, and we’re sorry that you’ll never be able to love anyone else.”

Before you had time to react, Natasha was pulling a gun out and aiming it at your heart, the sound of the shot echoing and triggering Wanda’s instant sobbing. Natasha was quick to pull her into her arms, facing her away from you as you tumbled to the ground, your own weapon sliding away as your free hand weakly pressed against the oversized sweatshirt that covered your wound.

The two women hurried out of the house as you began to choke and cough up blood, not able to stomach hearing or seeing anymore, and the sound of a car speeding off echoed throughout the neighborhood. Waiting another minute or two to be sure they left, you got up to walk off to the bathroom, wiping the fake blood off your palm the best you could. After slipping the bulletproof vest off your torso and washing your hands, you quickly rinsed your mouth and brushed your teeth to get rid of the red stains, lifting your head to look in the mirror with a smile when you were done.

You looked pretty good for a dead woman.

-

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[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

our newborn child has been really ill for a couple weeks and you’ve been really worried. luckily, we took them to the doctors and everything’s fine. yet despite it being nearly a week since we went to the doctors, you’ve slept beside the crib every night.- with kuchel shes the youngest and imagine levi and the rest of the ackerbabies sleeping with her cause they're worried

LOOK. THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN A DRABBLE ALRIGHT? BUT I GOT REALLY CARRIED AWAY AND UHM.... Imma break loads of hearts with this....don't tell me I didn't warn you.

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Warnings: mentions of death

Tags: a n g s t, pure angst, everyone's suffering, Wanna get in the mood I was while writing? Listen to this

A matress for five

For the first time in a long while, Levi's eyes stung feverously with exhaustion and insomnia. It was a silent beg, the first sign of his body giving in to the fatigue of taking care of four children but for all he knew, given the situation things would have to be worse before they got better.

His feet couldn't hold himself up in that late hour; not that even dared to move to check on the clock on the nightstand, his perception of time was more of an assumption. He had spend endless nights wide awake, clinging onto Kuchel's crib for dear life, interwinning her little hand with his, as his sorrows would bathe him in cold sweat.

The small hand that faintly clung onto his intex finger and wouldn't let loose of the steady grip sent earth shattering rashes of pain inside his heart as his eyes batted to its owner. His very own, crucially small and excessively faint daughter, that desperately needed him to simply survive. His eyes batted as he took in her small form for the upteenth time this evening. He loathed to be in that place again, to watch another beloved Kuchel in his life suffer with illness.

He had brought it to himself, he figured. By agreeing that she looked like him enough to be honored to share a name with his mother. Yet, after the recent events of having watched her suffer with whatever was that had gotten her down, he kept on wondering if luck was playing games with him for chosing his ill-fated mother's name. Was it really that much of a coincidence that he had to be stripped off another Kuchel, in a much similar situation?

And how on earth was he supposed to deal with another death brought onto his own little family.

The image of you leaving your last breath while you begged for him to protect your children was a fresh addition of the annihilating pain of grief that clung into his chest as if it was it's safe place. His eyes couldn't help batting erratically to prevent new waves of tears from running cold on his temples as he mentally clung onto the fondest memories of yours. He knew, with the way things were now, he shouldn't allow himself to be weak. There were four children that were completely depended on him, in despairate need to be helped, fed and be stood by for.

He had figured that by allowing himself to be egoistic with his grief he would only manage to repeat Kenny's behavior towards him. Naturally, no decent parent figure would ever chose to treat their children in such way and he didn't wish upon his own babies to feel most of the overwhelming emotions of abandonment he had felt before.

Had you still been here though, no one would have to be forced to deal with your loss in the first place. And as for Kuchel, she wouldn't have to fall sick and fight for her survival since day one.

He still could recall days where you would have fun with your sons, still very pregnant, resting assured that you'd always protect everyone in your own way.

In his memories, you held him tight, arm lingering on his as he cooked a healthy meal for your sons, rubbing one hand over your belly and begging him not to get you pregnant for a long time. Your boys, curious as ever would ask a trillion questions concerning your baby bum to which Kurt would jump to answer before you, taking the role of the experienced older brother, making you giggle at his quick wits and smart mouth.

You would simply bat your eyes in awe and pride as you'd look at him go and take responsibility for his brother at such a young age and in turn, Kurt would promise you he'd always take care of Kuchel as well. Then you would look at Levi, orbs glistering with with plastered happiness only to mouth a silent i love you to him.

The sudden forced halt to your everyday affections was probably what hurt him the most.

In his head, he imagined, you laid beside him as he placed Kuchel to sleep on his chest, smiling at the tenderly profound affection. You hand would graze the surface of his stomach, sliding across the baby's tiny body, only for your fingers to rest on his chin, so tenderly and faintly that he could barely feel them. Your expression would be serene, hues glimmering golden as they'd mirror the warm tingerine flicker of the candlelight.

He would spare you a smile, the most effortessly sincere one he could put on and he'd watch as your eyes would widen. When you'd realise the nature of his expression you would crash your lips against his, noses bumping feverishly into eachother as you'd try to freeze the smile on his face, afraid that it would disappear never to be seen again.

And to that, you would have probably been right. He wasn't going to smile again, not without you at least. Your departure from his life had ripped his heart like an old rotten rag and there was no way for him to manage to pick the pieces of his heart and stitch them back together. He had done it one too many times, just to push forward with being a soldier.

With a heart that was broken one too many times, he should have felt numb when he was ripped off another beloved person.

But he couldn't say the same would ever apply to his children.

As he laid there, staring at Kuchel's chest falling and rising with each little breath she took, he felt like the world threatened to rip him way from his younglings as well. His heart ached at the thought that they would ever have to share a fate with him.

The looks on their confused faces on the day of Kuchel's birth still crushed him. Little by little, day by day, he'd watch as everyone would fall into melancholy from your sudden departure. Kuchel was the first one to suffer from your loss, perhaps, even more fundamentally in comparison to the others.

It had been weeks since Kuchel had fallen ill.

Levi had strained himself physically and mentally trying to figure out what was going on, how could he help or how could he ever even feed her. All the previous experience he had with his sons was nothing compared to not being able to feed his daughter property; what he had suspected of being a mild case of colics, as often as it was on infants, had turned out to be a painful experience for every member in the house just as much as it had been for the newborn girl.

The doctor he had consulted with a little more than a week ago had assured him what Kuchel was going through was normal for children that were forced to receive substitute for their mother's milk. Perhaps, he had suggested, if Levi could find a wet nurse for her she wouldn't have to go through such horrific colics and suffer.

He was only shaken from his thoughts at the creaking sound of the heavy door to your once shared bedroom opening slightly. His eyes immediately fell on the source of sound, only to be welcomed by a small flashing of the dark corridor. With all willpower to move strained from his body though, he couldn't yet manage to utter a single word.

"Kurt, will Kuchel die?"

"Can we go see her?"

The tiny, barely audible voices grazed Levi's eardrums softly, always tenderly allowing him to process the spoken words that left his children's mouths. His nose twitched as anxiety rushed through him, causing him to slightly raise a hand to scratch it in an attempt to shake it's newfound numbness away. The thought of having to force himself to get up from Kuchel's bedside even for a mere moment drowned him in worry and despair.

"No, stupid, she won't die dad's taking care of her. And no, see they're asleep." Kurt whispered as a response, looking at his two brothers after his hand shot on the door to prevent them from opening it further.

Despite the door creaking ever more in response to them pressing their weight on it, the three boys ignored the sound as if it fell deaf to their ears. John and Tony batted their eyes in Kurt's hand, struggling to fit their heads in the slight opening to peek inside the room.

"Mommy wee come and hep her." John tried to whisper, mustering out his best composed words. Kurt threw the younger boy a dangerous glare as the words fell of his mouth, ready to scold him for speaking his nonsense so loud.

"Mom's not coming back," Tony managed to speak, confused as ever, before Kurt ever had a chance to open his mouth. "I think."

Kurt sighed, a loud, angered scoff of air escaping his small nostrils. "Mom's dead, we're never seeing her again. Get it brats?" His grip on the door tightened as he spoke, his feet that had been pushing forward to stop himself from bursting, finally giving in to the pain on the fresh wound in his little chest.

"Kuwt is mean!"John mumbled with a tied tongue "Towy, awe we going to see Kuchel again?"

"In the morning, John!"

"I wan to sweep next to dad!"

"Shut your shitty mouths! Dad is sleeping and we'll wake him and Kuchel up!"

On the other side of the door, Levi laid on the bed in a haze, listening carefully to his children lashing out on their inner thoughts to each other. Originally, he would simply ignore the late night stomping of curiosity his sons were engaged in but an itch to his chest prompted him to get up, to open the door and welcome them into the room.

Hange had spoken to him about the significance of bonding time between him and his children now that they had to come to terms with the significant deat of a parental figure; each one of them them was in a crucial stage of their development, meaning they wouldn't take their mother's death in easily, or even similarly. The psychosynthesis of each child was fragile in its own way and right now Hange's theories were turning out to be correct.

Before he knew it he had walked the distance to the door, opening it slowly to let the three children in."Oi, what have I told you about being vulgar?"

The three siblings froze, chubby cheeks puffing at the sides of their puckered lips as they averted their eyes away from their father's gaze in shame. Kurt took a step forward making sure to force his gray eyes to stare into his father's identical ones, only to speak up the words that were threatening to spill from the tip of his tongue as his heartbeat went through the roof.

"I'm sorry dad!"

Levi's hand automatically shot to the boys direction only to come and ruffle tenderly through his dark chocolate locks. His expression softened and his heart sped up at the slight change of demeanor coming from the boy; Kurt immediately wrapped his arms around his legs, pulling him closer to his smaller body. He melted under the touch. It seemed like his sorrows couldn't bear to get worse at the presence of his children.

In less that a second, Tony and John had nuzzled their way to his legs, in turn, hugging him absurdly tight close to them. Hums and soft giggles escaped them as they cheered for the acceptance of their affections. Almost as if they commanded him to, Levi squatted down, allowing them to wrap their arms around his neck and torso. His own hands came to engulf them in the warmth of his chest, pressing their little heads against it.

"John said he wants to sleep with you! I will watch over Kuchel!" Kurt spoke with the most stern tone he could muster, only to deem himself serious enough for his father to take him seriously.

"Hey I don't want to sleep alone!" Tony exhaled.

Levi couldn't help but let out a huff of amusement through his nose. "How about you all hop onto the bed with me?" He questioned, orbs darting around to all three the pairs of eyes that stared back at him "That way no one has to sleep alone!"

Normally, he knew they would cheer in excitement when you'd allow them to sleep in between you, but the heartbreaking contrast to their current reaction served as another reminder that things were never going to be the same.

Their heads were darting down, eyes burning holes at the floor beneath them as they reluctantly agreed to follow him into the room. He could tell John simply mimicked his brothers' reactions by a mere glance at him. The mellow indicator of his anxiety was served in the form of his teeny fingers mingling with the trims of his sleeves. A silent yawn escaped him, causing his chest to swell and fall in tiredness as he refused to rub any sleep away from his eyes. Noticing it, Levi knew he couldn't waste any more time, he quickly ordered them to secure their grips onto him before he picked them up, entering the bedroom once again.

With curiosity written in their faces, once they were securely set onto the matress, the boys silently crawled to the direction of Kuchel's crib, probing themselves at the edge of the wooden railing. Soon enough, Levi joined them; his hands gripped the railing as he rested his head against them, purposely mimicking his sons.

"Dad, will Kuchel die?" Kurt questioned with dark eyes probing in the direction of the newborn baby. The gulp that went down his throat didn't escape Levi's gaze.

"No, she just has stomach aches from the milk she's been drinking."

With skeptically forrowed brows Tony puckered his lips to the side of his cheek as he proceeded his father's words. "So she will stop drinking milk?"

"Not quite," Levi clicked his tongue "We'll find someone to feed her."

"Mommy wee feed her!"

A heavy sigh escaped Levi's lips as John spoke with enthusiasm. His inability to comprehend death was only natural, Levi reminded himself, but that didn't make it any easier for him to cope up with. It would months even years before Levi could explain to him the concept of death in a way that he could understand and come to terms with. For now, he had to settle with his his heartstrings pulling at him as he spoke the familiar indicators to remind John you were no more of "Mommy can't come back to feed her, so we are going to find a wet nurse."

"What's that?" Tony inquired.

"She is someone who will provide milk for Kuchel like I'm providing food for you."

"Oh!" Tony brought a finger at the side of lip as the profound realisation hit him "Like a new mommy? But why does Kuchel get to have a new mommy, doesn't she like our mommy?"

Levi wasn't given a chance to speak his mind, to educate them on the subject of death once again. Their voices were overlapping each others in a panicked state. It wasn't an uncommon thing for them to do in stressful situations; crying in sync as they stuck with each other as a lunatic team when they cried was something he had grown used to in the past few years. He knew how to handle them, but frankly, in this very moment he mentally couldn't.

"D-did Kuchel kill mommy?"

"Can babies kill?"

"Will Kuchel kill us as well? Daddy don't let Kuchel kill you!"

"Kuchel loved mommy" Levi cleared his throat, finally putting an halt to the synchronized silly assumptions that were being spoken "It's not her fault she had complications in birth."

"Then I don't want to give birth either!" A small cry escaped the group of siblings, causing Levi to bring a palm to his forehead. Sometimes, he wished he could explain things to them as you could, because how the hell was he supposed to explain to Tony that he couldn't physically give birth to someone, at this late hour in the night with his head throbbing in worry for the sickling in the crib.

"You really don't have to worry about that!" He spoke, voice flickering in the air as anxiety rushed through him for the upteenth time. "We should sleep, alright?"

The boys reluctantly bobbed their heads up and down in silently nods of agreement to their father's words. Almost in synch, they detached their hands from the crib's railing only to turn around on their knees to sprawl themselves into the vastness of the double sized bed they had always adorned.

Carefully, Levi laid on his side with his head facing Kuchel's crib, just like a few minutes ago. His hand darted inside the crib, his finger wiggling its way to Kuchel's little palm for her to grab onto. As welcoming as ever, the little palm wrapped around his index finger before a flickered breath exited his daughter's small body. Once he had secured that she wasn't going to be awaken by his actions, with his other hand, Levi plopped himself on his back and motioned to the boys to lay around him in the bed.

First John came to rest under his armpit, shifting himself to his liking onto his father's chest, that much until his ebony hair tickled Levi's chin. Levi recognised it as his perfect comfort sleeping position, the one he'd always go for when he'd sleep in your shared bed.

From that point on it only took seconds for the boy to fall asleep to his father's chest falling up and down as he breathed in a steady manner. Tony had managed to nuzzle his way next to John, fast asleep as well as he cuddled up to both his brother and his father.

"You should sleep bratty." Levi shot to Kurt's direction's as he watched him plop himself on his stomach, his head coming to rest above his hands on Levi's hipbone. Although Levi was unsure if Kurt's face seemed to lit up for a fragment of a second at the beloved petname that escaped his lips, he rested positive that he could at least convince the sever year old to give in to sleep.

"No thanks dad" He yawned "I'll watch over Kuchel! You sleep"

"Kuchel is asleep as well, why don't you come lay on my right side and close your eyes."

Kurt seemed puzzled as he examined the choices he was given. The primary instinct to step in father's shoes in order to protect his sister seemed to slowly give in to his need for some well deserved sleep. It would soon take over him completely, he figured as he stared back at his father, so he opted to comply to his father's prompt for sleep.

Besides, having the chance to sleep tight like a baby on his father's chest like his brothers was as important to his childish antics.

Thus, with a shift in his movements he found himself carefully positioned on the right side of his father's body, nose nuzzling just on the underside of Levi's muscled ribs. The question he wanted to shoot at his father remained at the tip of his tongue as sleep mellowy engulfed him.

Levi's stinging eyes felt heavy as his boys cooed peacefully in his embrace. Maybe, just for tonight, he could let himself rest in the presence of his spawns because unbeknownst to them, they had managed to temporarily put his mind and grief at ease.

Maybe just for tonight, he could let you visit him in his sleep and make things perfect again even for as long as a dream lasted. And maybe when he'd wake up Kuchel would be perfectly fine again and his sons wouldn't be drowning in melancholy and confusion and maybe he wouldn't have to spend the rest of his days wishing your bed could hold six sleeping bodies instead of five.

Tags: @levisbrat25 @alrightberries (that's also a special birthday gift to you I'm sorry it's so sad don't kill me 💀👉🏻👈🏻) @ladyofpandemonium @nobody-knows-anymore @miss-consulting-timelord

[aliceaddellheidde]

Birthday boy

A/N: I tried. HAPPY BIRTHDAY BUCKY BARNES!!! ❤️💜💙💚💕

WORDS: 1838

WARNINGS: swearing, smut (graphic, 18+)

PAIRING: Bucky Barnes x reader {A/B/O AU}

DISCLAIMERS: English isn´t my first language so sorry for mistakes.

I stole pic from ig of man who looks just like Bucky!!! 😱🤣

Divider by @firefly-graphics

You woke when Sun rays tickled your face. Space next to you was empty and cold which meant that Bucky, your Alpha and husband, went to check borders with his friends. Today was his birthday and you had plans for you both. Nice yummy breakfast, you as a dessert, small party with your big family and then hopefully special evening for you present. You checked if it´s still under pile of your t-shirts and then went down to make breakfast.

Bucky walked in the kitchen twenty minutes later, sweaty. „Good morning beautiful.” he kissed top of your head. „Morning handsome.” He wanted to hug you, but you pushed him away, laughing. „Have a shower first.” „When I´ll be done with you, we both will need another one! Do I really have to go?” He looked at you with puppy eyes. „I dare you to sit to the table dirty and sweaty! Now, shoo.” „Damn you, you feisty Omega.” He groaned but left.

You have been together for six years, four of it as married couple. When you were younger, you were sure you don’t wanna tie down to someone in very young age. But Fate had other plans and one day you literally fell down the stairs right into arms of the most beautiful Alpha in the college. Since that day you couldn’t get his smell from your head. Few weeks later you went on your first date and years later you were married. He worked as auto mechanic and because you didn't have kids yet, you still had your work too.

You heard when he stopped the shower and put bacon and eggs on pan. „All clean and fresh wifey!” Bucky walked to you and kissed you. You smelled cypress and sandalwood from his warm body and deepened kiss a little bit. But sizzling sound ruined everything. „I think our food is ready my little Omega.” he smirked at your pouty face. „Quicker we will be done with this, quicker we can have fun.”

He seated you on kitchen counter, your legs open. Your hands were everywhere, his on your hips as you were stealing air from each other in heated kisses. „Bedroom.” he breathed and picked you up. You were on third step when Steve and Sam walked into your house. „Sorry Y/N, but we need Bucky.” Your husband growled and you apologetically smiled at him. „Again? I was with you in the morning guys.” „We know Buck, but as Alphas we have duties. Even on your birthday.” said Steve. „We will wait outside.” He nudged Sam. „Yeah and girls are waiting for you in the Dome Y/N.” They both left and he finally put you down. „Sometimes I hate being an Alpha. Too much work.” He buried his face into crook of your neck where your connection mark was and then kissed his way to your lips. „I´ll see you later, my sweet Omega.” You kissed his cheek and went to change your pyjama for something more appropriate.

You loved your small family. As you walked to Dome you saw younglings playing with youngest Alpha of your pack, Peter. You all lived in cabin camp encircled by forest and you couldn’t imagine better life.

„Y/N! You are finally here.” „Hi Wan. I heard you need me?” „Yes. You know one Alpha eats for three and we need more food because of guests. Pepper, Sharon and Laura are in the kitchen.” „Yes boss!” Laughing, you walked in the kitchen and were surprised that there was still space to walk. „Are you ok?” you asked your friends, who looked like they were hit by heat wave. „It´s not funny Y/N. It so hot here and windows are not very helpful.” „Sorry Pepper. I´m here to help.” You end up baking cakes and bread and gossiping about your Alphas.

Bucky found you hours later, dressed nicely in jeans and flannel shirt. „Why is your hair wet?” you asked him and yanked croissant from his hand. „Hey! I´m hungry.” „You will have plenty of time later. Now lets go home. I can´t show up on your birthday party covered up in flour.” He laughed with you, easily picking you up and carrying you to your cabin.

You were in shower and he sat on the toilet. „Boys took me to cliff. You know we love jumping in water. Thus wet hair.” „You are like small puppies in adult bodies, I swear.” „Yet you married me.” His eyes were scanning your naked body with dilated pupils and his tongue wetted his lips. „I'm the happiest Alpha on this planet.” His mouth crushed into yours and somehow you ended up lying on your bed underneath him. „I wanted you all morning doll.” He nipped at your neck, clavicles and you gasped when his tongue touched your hardened nipples. You could feel him getting hard as he was rubbing against your wet core. His kisses travelled down your ribs, belly and hips. And finally when he was ready to taste his finest dessert, noise from outside stopped him. You both sighted, defeated. „Damn it! Why they have to cock-blocking me on my birthday?!” You stood up with a huff and put on Bucky´s favourite dress with over-the-knee socks and you chuckled when you heard his breath hitched. „You like it?” You turned to him. „Fuck Omega. You are killing me! Once we are done at the party I´m putting a baby in you.” You moaned at the idea of it. „That´s what you want?” You nodded vigorously. „Words, my sweet Omega.” His fingers traced your face and shoulders. „Yes Alpha. I want your pups.” He smiled wildly. „Great. I love you doll.” He kissed you gently. „Time to go.” He took your hand and together you went to welcome your friends from other packs.

Bucky was happy. He was having great time eating, drinking, singing, playing games and telling stories with other members yet he was checking you from time to time. Once you were with other Omegas, then eating and talking to young Betas. But his heart fluttered when he saw you playing with kids. You were laughing and tickling them and you glowed under warm light in the Dome. He felt his Alpha stirring deep inside of him and your smell overpowered the others. It was feral feel he couldn’t fight any more. He had to have you.

You instinctively felt his eyes on you and when you looked his way he was already standing and walking your way. He was few metres away from you but you smelled his cypress and sandalwood immediately. It made you all warm and your heart sped up. „Sorry kids. I need some fresh air.” They all protested but you were already walking away.

„Fuck you and fuck all my friends.” he growled once he had you pinned against barn wall in the dark. He wasn't angry, just frustrated. And his voice was making you wetter with every word he said. „I will make you feel better.” Your small hand was fumbling with his belt but he stopped you. „No. There is no time. I have to be in you. Now.” You quickly took off your panties and seconds late you were lifted by his strong arms. His cock was warm at your entrance and his breath shallow. „Please Bucky. Keep your promise my big, strong Alpha. Put a baby in me.” He snarled and pushed himself inside of you in one movement. Your loud moans for sure heard guests at the party even over the music. But neither of you cared. „Please move Bucky.” He smirked and started shifting in and out in fast strokes. His thumb was playing with your clit and in mere minutes you felt him growing inside of you and you revealed your neck for him more. His knot swelled and his teeth sank in your soft flesh. Your body was built for this but it was still like someone threw you under hot water. Your body was burning, you were hardly breathing and your head was numb from all that pleasure. Bucky was slowly licking drops of blood from your neck and then he kissed you. „You are the best my sweet, sweet Omega.” He pushed damp hair from your face. „You think it worked?” You were trying for baby for over two months now. You cheekily smirked at him. „It worked three weeks ago.” He was shocked. „What?! And you didn't tell me?” „Happy birthday daddy.” He kissed you again, this time tenderly. „I can´t believe it! All those role plays and other things we did, worked.” You smiled at him lovingly. „It did.” For moment you were quiet. „We should go back.” he sighted. „But damn girl your triggered my Rut again.” He pull out off you slowly and helped you to clean yourself with his shirt. „And you my Heat, so we are even.” He crouched down, his face in front of your belly. „Hello baby.” he said softly. „I love you. And your momma.” You caressed his head and started to cry. „Oh baby, we made her teary. Don’t worry. I´m gonna fix it.” He stood up and took your face in his hands. „You are not going on the party again. Go home. I will be there soon.” He kissed your nose and was watching as you walked to your cabin.

He went the other direction. Some unmated Omegas were glancing at him but he didn't care. He stood up in the middle of small stage and tapped on microphone. Everyone looked at him. „I wanna thank you all for coming to my birthday party and for the presents. But now I have to leave you and take care of my pregnant wife.” His smile was wide when he looked over the surprised faces. „I'm gonna be a father!” he shouted and room erupted in happy screams and congratulations. „Ok, ok. Yeah, it´s amazing. Thank you all again and good night.” He almost ran away from there as he felt another hot wave rush through his body.

You were waiting for him in your bed with wooden box and card on top of it. „Is it for me?” You nodded and watched him as he opened the card and started to cry over black and white photo. „It´s so tiny.” he choked. „I know.” Now you were crying too. „Our baby Barnes.” „And what´s in the box?” „Open it.” He did and took out small pair of trainers. One had 'girl' on it and the other one had 'boy'. „I don’t know which one we are having so I took both.” you whispered. He reached in box again and found soft bodysuits in different colours and a dummy. After few moments when he was just staring at it and silently crying, he smiled at you. „It´s best birthday present ever. Thank you doll.” You put everything away and climbed on top of him. „Ready for round two, birthday boy?”

[stardancerluv]

Crushes Near and Far

Summary: What is it like when you have encountered three very different men...but have crushes on them.

Note: A fem!reader in three different situations having a crush on Obi Wan Kenobi, Alex Law, & Dan Torrance! This is the request seen below. 👇🏻 👇🏻

Hope you enjoy this @thebeckyjolene before each character is lyrics from the song!

Alex Law

Am I crazy or falling in love?

Is it real or just another crush?

Do you catch a breath when I look at you?

Are you holding back, like the way you do?

'Cause I'm trying, trying to walk away

But I know this crush ain't goin' away

Goin' away

Has it ever crossed your mind

When we're hangin', spendin' time girl

Are we just friends?

Is there more?

You and Alex clinked glasses, for what had it been the fourth, fifth, no more like the twentieth time that night. First it was when the two of you had won against Juliet and David at a game of pool. Then it happened when you two had won at darts. As the drinks flowed little random things were what you two toasted to.

At one point, he desperately had wanted to lean in and sneak a kiss in. He pulled back. He wasn’t sure if that is what you wanted.

Damn, you were so cute, beautiful actually. And he adored you to no end. Did you feel the same way? He couldn’t be sure. You had spilled, more like gushed over the new guy at your job. But your hand hand lingered when you grabbed his arm between shooting pool or throwing those darts. He loved how sweet your perfume tickled his nose.

As he laid back on his bed that night he wondered. He looked at a snapshot, he had taken of the two of you. The two of you looked so good. He picked up his phone, he dialed your number but then hung up.

Moments later, his phone buzzed. Nervously, he. Answered, “Alex? Are you ok? It’s four in the morning?”

He could just laugh it off or finally tell you. “Y/N...” you name lingered on his lips.

“Yeah Alex...”

“Umm..” The words got stuck. “You know how we’re friends right?”

“Yeah of course silly.”

“Well...”

Dan Torrance

I hung up the phone tonight

Something happened for the first time

Deep inside

It was a rush, what a rush (what a rush)

'Cause the possibility

That you would ever feel the same way about me

It's just too much, just too much (just too much)

Why do I keep running from the truth?

All I ever think about is you

“Alright, well I made it upstairs.” You giggled.

Dan on the other end of the phone made a soft deep sound that you always had thought was incredibly endearing. “Good but you never know, those steps are slippery.” You could practically see that sweet smile, he had.

“That is very true. We both know how clumsy I am.”The two of you both shared a giggle. “Did you make it alright back to the boarding house?” You quickly added.

He grumbled.

“Dan, what happened?”

You could hear him sigh.

“Are you ok, what happened?” You persisted.

“I fell when I was half away there.”

You jumped up from where you had curled up on your tiny sofa. “Are you ok? Do you need me to come over?”

He chuckled. “I’m ok. A little sore but I’m ok.”

“Want me to come over?”

“And risk you to slip and fall like I just did? No, please don’t but let’s still try and meet for breakfast ok?”

You nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see you. “Yes, please. You know how much I enjoy them.”

“I do. Alright hun, I mean Y/N we better call it a night. Its terribly late.”

“Ok. See you in the morning.”

“Yes. See you then.”

You sat back and tried to relax you couldn’t. “Oh Dan...I love you, I love you.” You proclaimed with your heart racing. Coming down from the high of spending most of the night chatting and playing monopoly, you wished you knew. Did he like you or did he just see you as the sweet girl he met grabbed some cupcakes.

Sure you and the baker made amazing desserts but was that enough for him to like you. Ok, you knew that the two of you had started spending time together but he was new in town and other then Billy you were the only one he knew.

But that winning smile and those clear blue eyes just sent you cartwheeling through your joy. Maybe tomorrow when you would have him hand you the jam like he always did, you could finally ask him. Your heart just needed to know.

As long as you didn’t hide behind the kettle of hot water that helped your teas brew.

You wanted to know if he liked you but if he didn’t could you handle the heart break? You will have to find out. Sighing, you back onto your small sofa with your heart still racing and your head swimming of images of Dan’s sweet smile and kind yet anguish filled eyes.

Obi Wan Kenobi

See, it's a chance we've gotta take

'Cause I believe that we can make this into

Something that will last, last forever

Forever

It was almost time for him to leave and that truly was the last thing he wanted to do. Somewhere between one and two in the morning, you had finally drifted asleep.

He took the time with you peacefully sleeping beside him to meditate and focus his energy for the negotiations him and Anakin would have to carry out. They may turn aggressive he hoped they wouldn’t bit despite there being a chance, he needed all of his abilities honed and ready.

In the final hour before he left, he watched you sleep after draping one of his extra cloaks over your sweet frame.

Getting up, he bent down and pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “Let’s try moonbeam, let’s try forever.” He whispered so when you awoke, you’d know his answer. He gave you a final look and then with a heavy heart left for the shuttle bay.

He was relieved for once that Anakin was late. It gave him just that extra bit of time to think of you before he took over his worries, since Anakin always tended to bring trouble and bad luck with him.

[laughing-with-god]

Quarter Quell II

Yandere Jungkook, Hunger Games AU

Warnings; gore, death, yandere behavior, killing, strong language, kids murdering other kids, male on female violence (special trigger warning: if you have suffered abuse or are extremely sensitive to like-mannered scenes I want to take a moment to warn you that there is certain scenes in which male tributes will hurt and overpower other female tributes. If this will trigger you, please refrain from reading and I apologize beforehand.)

Words; 12.8k

The Capitol of Panem maintains its’ hold on it’s 12 districts by forcing them each to select a boy and a girl, called Tributes, to compete in a nationally televised event called the Hunger Games.  Every citizen must watch as the youths fight to the death until only one remains.

The end had arrived.

Faintly, in the back of your mind, you could hear a doomful melody accompany your death march.  Hauntingly beautiful bells and strings swam in your consciousness, making the awfully bleak scene even more gothically tragic.  A personalized soundtrack for your promised annihilation.

On either side of you was a peacekeeper, each of them holding a gun to ensure your spineless obedience.

You followed them silently...wordlessly...mindlessly.

The sound of footsteps echoed in your ears as they bounced off the surface of the concrete walls.  They guided you deeper into the grey, sterile and fluorescent-lighted corridor. Each pace forward only further locked in your fate. And as a slave to ruthless destiny, you continued onward.  

You were marching to your death.  

Yet, you felt no anger.

No fear.

Not even a lick of grief or pity entertained your empty mind as you followed the path of your own demise.  

Your body had gone into a semi-shock, not allowing you to fully grasp the severity of the situation in hopes of postponing a mental breakdown.  All functions had suddenly gone numb, protecting you from the wrath of panic that would thunder upon you if you focused too closely on this dire moment.  You welcomed this sensation and allowed it to coax you into a zombie-like state, even if this tranquility was phony you still willingly clung to it.  

Perhaps the reason for your lack of reaction was due to an acceptance of death.  You held the benevolence of a queen approaching the guillotine, if nothing could change your sentence than the least you could do is hold your head up and never let them see you break.  

You kept the charade up until the peacekeepers halted beside a door marked ‘10 F’.  

Your breath hitched.  

One of them then reached over to open it, the other grasped one of his gloved hands onto your arm to hold you in place, somehow expecting a fight, before shoving you into the room.  

It was the resounding slam of the door that finally cracked your resolve.  

Tears began to well in your eyes as you observed the last room you’d ever see before the hellish arena.  

It was small, as to be expected.  White tile lined not only the floor but also the walls, the bright lighting reflected off of them and almost blinded you in the process.  In the center of the room was a metal table, sat upon it was the tribute wear. Dark grey camo pants lined with utility pockets, a tight black tank top, and a blue windbreaker-like jacket.  To top it all off, a pair of black combat boots sat on the floor next to the table.

The outfit you would die in.  

You choked back a sob as the postponed sadness made it’s belated arrival.  

It seeped in like a flood does to a house with a weak foundation.  The sticky and awfully heavy dread took its’ time peeling away the decaying layer of denial with steady ease.  Then, it clung to your bones…. melting itself further and further until it eventually made its’ way to your core and wrapped itself around it.  

You suddenly couldn’t breathe.  

The air had evaporated before it could reach your desperate lungs.  Replacing it was the icy shock of terror as it consumed every fiber of your being.  In response, your chest began to heave up and down as your body began a hyperventilation process in search of more oxygen.  

“I-I’m too young to die.”  your broken whisper barely penetrated the pathetic whimpers and wheezes your body was also making.  

Out of nowhere, a tiny spark of anger ignited within you.  Anger at who, you did not know. But you felt an unfairness like no other in that moment.  You felt robbed of basic humane rights, such as living your life up till it’s natural and uneventful end.  Why? Why cut your life so short? You never thought of yourself as young but goddammit, you didn’t think your teenage years were enough to be called a ‘full life’.  How heartless were people to look at the youth in the tributes and demand such short lives of potential to be cut even shorter?  

“Dearie, what good would crying do at this point?”  A purring yet somehow also grutal voice called out from behind you, breaking your inner dialogue of misery.  

You turned to face your designer in all her capitol glory.  

Her name fit her in the most pretentious way.  They called her Topaz, and her bronze skin, that was always pressed with expensive Capitol body oils, resembled the characteristics of the infamous gemstone.  To compliment this coco complexion, she often wore gold makeup with green or yellow dresses that flowed behind her tall amazon body. Her black curls were always flowing freely, sometimes with a crown on her head to feed the superiority complex she without a doubt had.  

But today she toned it down for the seriousness of the occasion.  

Her figure-hugging dress was black, as if to attend your pseudo funeral because you sure as hell weren’t getting one after this.  Her curls were tied up into a tight bun to further emphasize her slender and bare face that was free of any noticeable makeup besides and odd golden-glittery lipstick.  

“I know you must be very scared, but we only have a few minutes to get you ready.”  She placed a hand on your shoulder whilst shooting you a soft and barely sympathetic smile that didn’t quite reach those amber orbs of hers.  Then rather roughly, she proceeded to guide you to the table and gestured for you to take your clothes off.  

Such invasion of privacy would be uncustom if she had not waxed your entire naked body and hosed it down the minute you entered the capitol.  

Slowly, you peeled away your casual outfit as Topaz eagerly handed you the tribute one, bit by bit.  

It was awkward, tense and additionally pathetic with the occasional sounds of your sniffles and continuous streaming of tears.  All the while she eyed you with this soulless blank stare that unnerved your already high-strung nerves. You briefly wondered how many times she did this exact ritual.  How many kids from your home district did she watch break down and dress in the clothes they’d eventually be slaughtered in? Did she also smile at them and offer forged empathy, pretending to understand what it was that they were going through in their last moments...as if she wouldn’t return back to some Capitol cafeteria and eat a luxurious brunch whilst watching the bloodbath that would unfold.

Instantly you got a wave of nausea.  

How was it that both you and this woman were both species of the same human race, with beating hearts, souls and brains yet one could turn so corrupt while you ended up with the fate of a mere prey?  Was even a tiny molecule of her guilty for the kids she looked in the eye before sending them to their premature deaths?  

You avoided her gaze with a new sense of disgust and focused on zipping up your jacket.  

“Don’t forget the boots.”  Topaz added before reaching down to grab them and hand them to you.  You took them wordlessly and knelt down to put them on. Whilst you were doing this, your designer apparently felt the need to lighten the dark aura around you with some ‘comforting’ words. “You know Y/n, you’re actually quite lucky that you’re playing this Quell.  No weapons means no bloodbath. The first ten minutes of most games are the deadliest but that can’t really be said with this one. I doubt there’s even going to be a Cornucopia.”  

Oddly enough, this was indeed slightly soothing.  Although you felt very offended that she dare call you ‘lucky’, she did have a point. No weapons meant that there wouldn’t be a race to get them, and the first ones to get their hands on them couldn’t turn and attack the others.  That should at least buy you enough time to slip away and find cover, if no one bigger decides to gang up on you.  

Suddenly you got a flash in your minds’ eye of a certain black-eyed career who made his infatuation with you all too known.

You physically flinched at the prospect of Two getting his hands on you the first thing in the game.  

All you could do was pray that the gamemakers took mercy on you and didn’t station him too close.

Blearily, you stood back up and looked towards the corner of the room to spot the item that would eventually spit you up into the arena.  It was a glass tube, nothing spectacular about it. But you knew the moment you would step in it, the rounded glass doors would envelop shut and trap you in.  You stood there for a minute, staring at it as if your stare could eventually burn right through it if you truly tried.  

But alas you were without luck or fortune.  

“It’s about time, Y/n.”

The ominous words were enough to stop the beating of your heart.  

A pitiful and begging voice began a mantra in your head, ‘I don’t want to die.  I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t wan-’

A nudge was given to your back and successfully shoved you closer to the tube.  Goosebumps raised on the surface of your skin and the instinct to dry heave became too much to bear.  

Topaz continued pushing you further and further, until you were at the edge of the object and a mere inch away from being in it.  Your body had frozen stiff in attempt to plant yourself to the ground, but it sadly wasn’t enough to alter your fate.  

With one more final shove, you were in the tube.  

Topaz was half in and half out of the cylinder, her hands on your shoulders and her chin by your shoulder to whisper her last version of ‘break a leg’.  

“If you win this, I’ll personally buy you a name-brand dress.” You could practically hear her proud smirk as she said this.  “Good luck, hun.”  

The audacity was enough to make you whip around in preparation to slap that smug smile off her face.  Was the need to live not enough motivation? Did she think that hanging an expensive piece of cloth over your head would be the push you needed to survive?  How fucking dare she-

You opened your mouth to holler and even raised a hand, but when you fully turned around the glass doors had enveloped shut and Topaz was on the other side of it, waving ‘bye’ in a content manner.  

Your jaw dropped in horror as you heard an odd ‘whoosh’ sound occur from above you.  

You looked up to see that the roof of the tube had slip open.  

Right above it was the arena…. waiting for you with the utmost promise of lost innocence and bloodshed.  

Your heart and breathing began to accelerate as you felt the pedestal beneath you begin to slowly rise, bringing you closer and closer to the top.  

Closer.

Closer.

And closer.

You clenched your eyes shut and tried to soothe this upcoming panic attack that was looming over the horizon of your sanity.  

You took a deep breath and attempted to rationalize.

Blurry memories of previous games fogged up in your mind like some sort of warning.  Images of shell-shocked tributes in the throes of denial who would stay frozen during the opening of the game, unable to fully process their situation….they were usually the first to go.  

You couldn’t let that happen to you.  

‘Calm down, the first minutes of the game are detrimental.  If you freak out now and stall, you’ll miss your chance to escape.’  You thought to yourself.

As awful as it was, you were in this game for better or worse.  No time could be saved for moping, survival mode had to be switched on now or never.  From here on out, you would have to think like an animal and solely focus on methods to outrun the predators.  Humanity had to be abandoned.  

The pedestal stopped rising, letting you know that you were now fully in the arena.  

You swallowed, whether it was to help your mouth that suddenly gone dry or to keep the bile at bay you did not know.  

The temperature around you was cool, yet also somehow humid and damp. Your nose took in a voluntary sniff and discovered a scent of must, earth and...mold?  

You opened your eyes to behold the 100th Annual Hunger Games arena.

You were underground, all around you were gigantic rocky caverns.  It was similar to a dome, except the walls in which you were enveloped were ridgy and a hundred feet high.  There was also smaller tunnels at the edges of the arenas’ center in which the tributes were located. They were so huge and abyssal that one felt like an ant standing in the middle of it all.  Everything was dark due to no natural lighting beyond the small cracks in the rocks above that allowed very little sun to seep through.

You looked around in awe.  

The arena was a series of underground caves.  

You would’ve preferred a forest or a jungle.  At least then there would be more chances for food and water.  But you supposed you should’ve been grateful that it wasn’t an arctic habitat or a desert one.  

You quickly turned your attention to the other tributes.  

As custom, you were all aligned in a giant circle.  The closest kids to you were still ten or so feet away.  You noted with relief that you couldn’t make out Jungkook anywhere near you.  But to be fair, it was hard to make out anyone in such dim lighting. But from what you could tell it was the boy from Four and the girl from Nine stationed on either side of you.  

Unlike any other games, there wasn’t a Cornucopia to behold.  

All you could see was an orange, hologram number ‘10’ floating about 50 feet in the center of the circle of tributes.  

A robotic voice thundered the arena with a chilling, “Welcome to the 100th annual Hunger Games.  May the odds be ever in your favor. We begin in 10…”

The holdram morphed into a 9 to symbolize the beginning of a countdown.

“9.”

“8.”

“7.”

“6.”

“5.”

“4.”

“3.”

“2.”

“1.”

The sound of a cannon shot through the silence as the hologram instantly depleted into nothingness.  The sound so chilling, especially when you know that the cannon would be the first of many.

Adrenaline rushed through your veins as you flew off of your pedestal like a bat out of hell.  

You threw your body in the opposite direction of the circle, rushing outwards in hopes to seek cover in one of the smaller tunnels and worm your way far from all the other tributes

You heard yelling and the sounds of wrestling or tussling, but you refused to look back to witness the unraveling of any tribute-on-tribute amicability.  You briefly just hoped that Chenle and Taehyung were agile enough to get away without any trouble.  

Your boots hitting the rocky ground was the only sensation you allowed yourself to focus on, along with the sight of a medium sized cavern that you had your sights set on and were running towards.  Your heart was beating so fast it would’ve been a medical mystery how it didn’t burst out of your chest, but you only had one instinct to escape. If luck was on your side, the tunnel wouldn’t be a dead end and could eventually lead you into another one.  

You were about 15 feet away from entering the cave when something caught around your ankle, causing you to fall face first with your arms barely coming out in time to catch the brunt of the fall.  When you were fully on the ground, something heavy and strong began to straddle your hips, successfully pinning you down.  

You looked up to see the boy from Four.

He smirked down at you, his sun kissed skin glowing eerily in the dim lighting of the cave.  

You didn’t know if he was a career or not, but he was a strong tribute that scored well during the personal assessment and wasn’t one to be messed with. You don’t recall doing anything to offend 4, so to say you were confused would be an understatement. The way he glared down at you was terrifying and implied some sort of personal vendetta.  

“Get that scared shitless look off your face, doll.  I’m not gonna hurt you.” He laughed humorlessly in response to your pathetic squirms.  “You see, Two demanded that we try to get you first thing in this game. You’re kinda my meal ticket into that career alliance.”

Your heart only raced faster, finding no assurance in his promise to not hurt you.  

Fuck, he was one of Jungkook’s little foot soldiers and was planning to use you as some sort of trading piece.  You now felt so foolish for assuming that Jungkook would be your only problem, his allies would be gunning you down as well.  

You began to thrash wildly out of fear, desperate to get him off you knowing that his plans would lead to a fate worse than death.  Panicking, you began to plead for your freedom. “Please, you don’t understand! Jungkook is lying! There’s nothing going on between us!”  

Four just stared down at you blankly before rolling his dark eyes and pinning your arms above your head.  

You suddenly went limp as tears began to stream down your face.  You looked around you and saw that most if not all tributes were making a mad dash to the hidden caves, no one stopping to help you or pay you any mind in favor of saving their own asses.  

Four was huge and if he didn’t want you to get up, then you weren’t getting up. You had a better chance of melting into the very ground beneath you than fighting him off.  

The tanned boy smiled in response to your now powerless form, all too grateful to see your cooperation and lack of hope.  “There’s a good girl. Now-”

A loud ‘crack’ sounded, prematurely cutting him off.  

Four’s eyes suddenly rolled into the back of his head before his entire body slumped forward.  

A black haired, tall, pale but sturdy boy stood behind Four.  He was holding up a rock and you concluded fairly quickly that it was he who smashed it into the back of four’s head.  Your lungs began to hyperventilate, not knowing if he was going to use that same rock to bash your head in next. His dark eyes drank you in, noting your panic and seeming to scoff at the display, oddly unimpressed by it.  The boy then dropped the make-shift weapon before breaking into a sprint.  

As he passed you, he yelled one thing.  “Run, you idiot!”  

Those were apparently the magic words you needed to hear.  They snapped you into action as you hurriedly scrambled out from underneath Four’s heavy but unconscious form to continue your journey into the tunnel.  

One thought stayed with you all the while, long after you made it into the dark, empty but safe cave.  

Why did 12 bother saving you?   --

Part two

“Every time that cannon goes off, it’s music to my ears.  I don’t care about any of them.” -Finnick Odair, Victor of 65th Annual Hunger Games.  

The cave was very small, you found it after running into a large tunnel, taking multiple random turns and searching very hard to find a hidden little hole that was closed off by some large boulders.  It was so tiny that one had to army-crawl to get in, but you liked it that way.  This meant that you weren’t out in the open, that you were so well hidden that tributes would walk past it without knowing you were even there.  

It was a cramped but perfect little hide-out, you barely had enough space to cross your legs and rest against the wall but you didn’t mind.  At least you felt safe.  So thus you sat in pitch-black darkness and listened closely to the sounds of your breathing echoing back to you in the intimate little spot you now called home.  

You closed your eyes and tried to focus on calming down.  

The adrenaline was still running through you like some sort of drug, the hairs on your arms stood stubbornly and your chest continued to heave up and down with a sense of pending doom.  Your body wasn’t allowing you to relax, somehow still expecting a surprise attack and not wishing to fully give into tranquility.  You had to pull a mind over matter and trick yourself into not having another anxiety attack, which is very hard to do in the middle of an arena.  

If your sense of time was correct, the game had been on for about 20-30 minutes.  

Meaning, the canons were scheduled to go off any minute now.   Usually after people scrambled from the bloodbath and the careers did their killing, the gamemakers would sound off all the canons at once.  This only happens on the first day though, after the first day the canons would trigger instantly when someone dies. But since most deaths occurred on the first day and happened all in quick succession during the bloodbath, it suited both the tributes and viewers well to count the canons after everything had calmed down.  

As if reading your mind, a booming sound pierced the fragile blanket of silence.

The sound was thundering and vibrated the entire arena, or maybe it was just your mind that perceived it that way due to your current circumstances.  Nonetheless, it was terrifying.  Especially when one keeps in mind that one cannon symbolizes one childs’ life cut short.  

They began to trigger, one by one.

“One.”  You counted to yourself.  “Two.  Three.  Four.  Five.  Six.”  

The series of cannons suddenly halted and bled into another irksome silence.  

Six…

Six lives lost just a meer half hour ago.  

Six lives that could’ve been you….but weren’t.  

A montage of all the tributes suddenly ran through your head, taunting you as you couldn’t help the famished hunger to know who died that burned through your chest.  Was it Taehyung?  Was it Chenle?  Did the boy from Four survive the blow to the head?  Did ‘god’ really answer your prayers and killed some of the career pack?  Maybe even, dare you say it, Jungkook himself?

Your heart raced faster as you shook your head, not liking where your train of thought was going and the added affect it had on your body.  Your attempted to rationalize with yourself, you could wait until tonight to see the faces of the fallen tributes via the hologram update that happened every night.  You would just have to wait until then, you wouldn’t be doing yourself any favors by going crazy with worry now.  

Instead you decided to do some mental math.  Twenty four minus six equates to eighteen 

Eighteen kids were still alive.  One of which was you.  You now had a 1/18th chance of making it out of here.

The feeling was bittersweet.  Because although each trigger of the cannon represented a life lost, it also meant you were that much closer to the end and possibly being the last one to survive.  Maybe you should shift your mentality to one of pessimistic idealism?  Perhaps the key to getting through this was by seeing the good in the bad.  Yes, every death was awful and you’d never condone it.  But, if they were dead anyway then what’s the harm in trying to take their demises as well as possible?  It was always best to think positively, right?  That’s probably how past victors thought, given the mental stability was just as important as the physical stability.  

You remember past games where tributes lost their minds.  One boy from Six even went crazy and started eating the corpses of other dead tributes.  You couldn’t eat meat for a week after watching that. A girl from Eight once went loopy from the freezing cold arena and stripped her clothes off before breaking out in song and dance.  There was also a really old game, probably one of the first ten games, where the arena was a desert and there was no water, you vividly recalled watching a young kid of probably 12 or 13 cut himself just for the sake of lapping up the warm blood.  

You couldn’t allow yourself to fall into that-

Wait, what were you thinking?  

What was wrong with you?  You’d only been in this arena for an hour or so and were already allowing your morals to be compromised if it could buy you some cheap peace of mind.  Of course every death was depressing, no one deserved to play in this game! What was wrong with you?  Why were you almost relieved that kids were dying and putting your chances into a better perspective?

Maybe you and the careers weren’t so different after all….

This conclusion was so bone-chilling and vile that you couldn’t help the small whimper that escaped your lips.  

You quickly concluded that pondering was no longer for you.

Another rule you’d have to adapt; your mind can be your worst enemy in here, best not get lost in your thoughts.  

You suddenly felt awfully exhausted.  Not a type of tired where you’ve been up for a little too long or had just done a tedious amount of physical work, but a type of tired where you simply no longer wanted to be conscious or aware.  Your body felt somehow extremely light but heavy at the same time, your eyelids drooping in insistence for some shut eye.  

But you couldn’t fall asleep just yet.  

If you fell asleep now, then there was a chance that you would miss the fallen tributes segment.  You needed to stay up, if only just to find out if Chenle, Taehyung and Jungkook were still out there.  

For the next few hours, you just sat there.  Blankly staring at nothing and trying to busy yourself with dumb little songs or riddles that you allowed to occupy your mind for the time being.  You never thought you would say this; but when you weren’t fighting for your life and clawing for survival, the games could be rather boring.  It was a ridiculous notion- to be bored in this very vital time period where your life is a stake with every waking moment you spend in this arena.  But it was the truth, there was nothing to do.  

Until, something abruptly halted your colorless daydreams.  

You didn’t know how to describe it.  And to be honest, you felt it more than you heard it.  

The ground beneath you suddenly began to shake with such intense ferocity that you couldn’t help but wonder if it was an earthquake.  Then your ears picked up on the noise; and what awful sounds they were.  

First, it was like a crash that never stopped.  A sudden falling of countless heavy objects, most likely rocks or boulders given the habitat.  It sounded as if they just kept raining down, their heavy mass hurling upon the ground and striking anyone in it’s way.  

Next, the screams followed.  

They were tortured and pained hollers that echoed down the tunnels and vibrated the air around you.  You heard both male and female voices, crying in agony and begging for help in what you could assess was a little less than 20 yards away.  

Your body began to shake as you cupped a hand over your mouth to avoid crying out.  

You were hearing the last wails of young kids who were surely going to die.  

Boiling hot tears streamed down your cheeks in realization on what must’ve happened.  

But, did you dare wander out of your safe cocoon to investigate?  

It wasn’t the smartest choice, but what if one of those desperate shouts belonged to Taehyung or even Chenle?  

With that concerning thought, you were hastily crawling out of your little hideout with little regard for your own safety.  

Once you were out of your miniature cave, you hurriedly snapped your head side to side to see that the tunnel was void of any other tributes.  Knowing you had very little time, you broke into a sprint and followed the direction of the screams.  

As you ran through the dim and mossy cave, you only had one thought running through your mind.  

‘Please don’t let it be them.’  you prayed.  

When you finally reached the site of such mayhem, your stride completely stopped as you lost all strength in your legs due to utter shock.  

You fell to your knees and gagged, the luxurious breakfast you had in the Capitol was seeping its’ way upwards and threatening to make you vomit.  

The sight in front of you was…. grotesque.  

One of the caves had given out and collapsed.

And in result, tributes were crushed.  

Their mangled bodies were twisted inhumanely under such hefty rocks that were now stained ruby red with their blood.  Some of the tributes had eyes budging out of their sockets, along with their tongues due to the numerous amount of pressure that was weighing down on them.  You only saw two bodies, but you heard choked screams of some others that were out of sight.  

But all those cries were ignored by you, your focus solely on one body that was also pinned beneath such monstrous boulders.  

His eyes were shut, face peaceful yet blank and body limp as if boneless.

He almost looked like he was sleeping….but the puddle of blood that dripped from his mouth and onto the ground told you everything you needed to know.  

And if that didn’t, then the cannon that sounded sure did.

Taehyung was gone.  

--

Part Three

“He wasn’t much but...he was from home.”  -Johanna Mason, Victor of 71st Annual Hunger Games.  

You didn’t know how long you’ve been crying.  

But from the way your eyes were practically swollen shut, head pounding ruthlessly and throat dry and scratchy in result of your numerous groans of grief, you could conclude that you must’ve carried out this sob fest for at least a couple hours now.  

The scene of your distract mates’ death was stained to the back of your eyelids, greeting you with gory misery everytime you so much as blinked.  This would obviously cause another round of cries from you and thus began a never-ending cycle.  

Taehyung was dead.

But not just any type of dead.  He was crushed to death and most likely suffered through every single pound of rock that slowly sucked the life out of him.  His body was squished so brutally, as if he was nothing but a small insect for the gamemakers to step on.  

Somehow the nature of his death offended you beyond belief.  

Taehyung wasn’t a loud or overly-sweet person, but he deserved more than to have his life ended like that.  He was quiet, but you knew that beneath his silence lingered a remarkable intelligence and code of honor.  His face was always wearing an aloof expression, but that’s just due to his guarded nature and unwillingness to let anyone see his weaknesses.  He wasn’t the closest to you, but the way he helped you with Jungkook showed his true nature- he had the protective instinct for you that you’d assume an older brother might have.  

Something about his end just didn’t sit right with you.  

Taehyung was gold-skinned from hours upon hours out in the sun, hands calloused from rough labor, he was tall enough to have to peer down at almost everyone he spoke to, body lean but sturdy and voice so deep and grutal that you couldn’t even picture how he must’ve sounded as a pubescent boy.  Taehyung was such a strong figure worthy of respect in your eyes.  

So to see him pale, limp, lifeless and under thousands of pounds worth of debris and rock was….unnerving to say the least.  

How the mighty have fallen.

After you saw Taehyung, you had cried for a minute before vomiting up your breakfast, being unable to stomach the sight and ultimately losing the battle with your stomach.  You were tempted to stay with your District mate until the very end, to wait by his side until the ship would take his body, but the pained groans and cries had seemed to attract other tributes to that area as well.  

You had heard footsteps echo from the tunnel opposite of the scene, across from where you sat next to the corpse of Taehyung.  

It sounded like a group of people, you couldn’t make their words out properly but they sounded curious and were confidently jogging closer and closer to the disaster.  

Somehow you just knew that it was the careers.  

You felt conflicted; you wanted to stay with your counterpart until the very end, but there was only one person in this game who terrified you to your very core.  

District Two’s Jungkook.  

Otherwise known as the head of the career pact.  

And if he spotted you…

Your flight or fight instincts took over.  

You had rushed towards Taehyung and hastily pressed your lips against his forehead, trying not to cringe at how ice-cold his skin was.  

You whispered one thing to him, logically aware that he couldn’t hear it but wishing that his greater conscious would.  

“I’m sorry.”  

Then like that, you quickly turned around and ran as fast as you could back to your little-hide out.  

And here you were hours later; huddled up in your little hole whilst still shaken and miserable.  

One could argue that it was ridiculous to be so sad about his death, given you could count on both hands how many conversations you had with him.  But it was not for someone else to understand; the feeling of losing the one person who originated from the same place as you.  Everyone else in this arena was just a bunch of faceless threats from places beyond your knowing.  Taehyung was the last piece of home you had left, the last person you could fully relate to and to have him ripped away from you so soon...you felt robbed and alienated.

Your last goodbye to him suddenly entered your mind.

You didn’t know what you were sorry to Taehyung for, but you just felt like you needed to say it in that moment.  Maybe you were guilty that you didn’t try harder to become his ally and team up in the arena.  Or maybe you were just sorry that his end had to be like that, that you didn’t get to him sooner. Perhaps even being sorry that you couldn’t stay with his body like you had wanted to.

Yet maybe it was a good thing that he died on the first day.  Some might even say that those who died first were the luckiest...they wouldn’t have the torture of carrying on the game for days on end.  

This stream of thought was prematurely cut short when the Capitols’ anthem suddenly began to echo inside the caves.

You were dreading seeing Taehyung’s face splayed up as a fallen tribute for everyone to see, but you had no choice but to watch and get a full count of who was left.  Reluctantly, you crawled out of your hole so that just your upper half was out, peeking out like a turtle in case there was any other tributes.  

You quickly found the segment projected onto the ridgy walls of the rocky caverns.  Right now it was just the bright blue symbol of the capitol as the trumpets and drums continued to play.  You braced yourself, held your breath and waited...and waited...and waited.  But eventually the anthem just faded out as the symbol remained.  

Your face scrunched up in confusion.  

Had the fallen tributes segment glitched?  Why hadn’t any faces been displayed?  

Out of nowhere, a smooth and deep voice purred over the unseen speakers, almost startling you back into your ‘shell’.  

“Why, I see so many befuddled expressions out there.”  

A gleeful chuckle followed.  

Your eyes widened as you recognized who was speaking to all the tributes.  The only person allowed to make announcements was the one and only head game maker.  And when the head game maker went out of his way to speak to the tributes...well, it was never a good sign.  

“As part of the twist of the Quarter Quell, the gamemakers have decided that knowing your enemy is a huge advantage.  It can be argued that it’s rather generous of the Capitol to allow you such luxury of seeing the fallen every night.”  A brief pause.  “We then wondered how you all would fare if you didn’t know who was alive and who was dead.  So for the first time ever, the fallen tribute tradition has been temporarily...suspended.”  

Your jaw dropped as you slowly but surely realized what was happening.  

They couldn’t, could they?

“Instead, every night we will display a number.  This number will represent how many tributes are still alive.”

Reacting to his words, the capitol’s symbol instantly morphed into a giant number ‘14’.  

The head game maker let out a thoughtful hum.  “Fourteen of you left. Interesting… may the odds be ever in your favor, one out of fourteen isn’t a bad shot when you really think about it.”  The statement shook you to your core, the makers’ soothing and accented voice saying those words was somehow too real for you to handle.  He finally concluded the announcement with one more farewell, a smile being heard in his voice as he finished it all off with a simple; “Goodnight.”  

The display depleted back into nothingness as the speakers cut out with a definite ‘click’.  

If the goal of such announcement was to taunt and rile the tributes, then they achieved this goal rather well.  

A burning itch of irritation bubbled under your skin, your face burning bright red and a random desire to yell out curses to the gamemakers overtook your mind in that very moment.  The audacity to not tell the tributes beforehand, the slimey pettiness to rub it in their faces via an announcement and the offensive “one in fourteen” comment was all too much for you to bear.  You weren’t a violent person by any means, but if given the chance you’d probably bash the head gamemakers’ face in.

You weren’t naive.  

You knew what they were doing.  

This wasn’t planned until later, because if it was part of the original agenda; the tributes would’ve been briefed on it so they could strategize accordingly.  The game makers decided on this later, most likely because they thought it would make better ratings or quicken some tribute-on-tribute story lines.  

But what could’ve made them pull the trigger on something like this-

No way.  

A horrid epiphany struck you as the gears in your aching and groggy mind began to turn.  

Who was the most beloved tribute of this game so far?  

Two.

What was said tribute most vocal about during his interview?  

You.

And who did district four try to obtain you for?

Him.

During his interview it was obvious how wrapped around his finger he had the viewers.  It wasn’t a far stretch to assume that most if not all of the Capitol truly bought into his one-sided romance propaganda.  So, if you were an average viewer of the games and saw that you and Jungkook weren’t together... then maybe it truly would be more entertaining to not have you two know if the other is alive or not.  Did they want to see the ‘secret lovers’ break not knowing if their soulmate was okay or dead?  

On top of that, you could only assume that many tributes were also separated from their District counterparts and were understandably concerned about their partner’s fate.  This was, regrettably, the perfect way to get in their heads and could even be traced back to the quell’s theme of ‘no support system.’  

You hated how evilly brilliant it all was.  

Although it didn’t seem like much, the paranoia didn’t take long to seep in.  Was Chenle still alive?  Did the boy from Twelve make it out?  And most importantly; was Jungkook still out there...looking for you?

Instinctively you crawled back into your little shelter, as if just thinking about him would magically make him materialize in front of you.  

You instead refocused your mind onto the number displayed just seconds before.  

14 people were still alive.  

Earlier, you had counted six cannons.  Which means four people would’ve had to died during the cave collapse, although you didn’t spot every single corpse in favor of mourning over Taehyungs’ specifically.  So all in all, ten children died today.  This left a little more than half of the original tributes left.  

Out of nowhere, the bleak yet bittersweet feeling spiked within you once again.   It was hard to feel any good about the short lives that were ended unfairly, yet if the games kept going at this pace then the whole nightmare showed signs of being be over sooner rather than later.  This thought lead into another question; how come so many died today?  

Natural diasters weren’t uncommon and they were obviously simulations created by the gamemakers.  They usually happened within the second half of the games though, when deaths were slowing down and the viewing experience became a little too boring for the Capitols’ taste.  So how come they chose to start off with a disaster right away?  

It was terrifying and worth concern for everyone, especially when considering that tributes could do nothing to combat them if the gamemakers just chose to have a volcano erupt near you or something like that.  When you think about it, anyone could’ve been in Taehyung’s place.  It was just a matter of being at the right place at the right time.  Luck was a bigger theme than odds were.  How hypocritical of them to say may the odds be in our favor when they’re the ones constantly manipulating them against us?  

You sighed and tried to rest comfortably against the wall of your little cave.  

You decided to just conclude that they must’ve made the cave collapse to make up for the lack of blood bath deaths.  It was the only explanation that made sense.  In other games with a Cornucopia and weapons, so much as 10 or 13 tributes would die trying to obtain supplies.  Obviously this couldn’t have been done with no weapons to fight over and most tributes just scattering away this time.  The gamemakers must’ve brainstormed other ways to up the death count and decided on collapsing part of the arena.  

You just hoped that tomorrow would be more bearable than today was.  

You hugged your jacket closer to your from after zipping it all the way up and buttoning it for good measure.  You didn’t know much about caves, but you figured that they most likely got really cold at night.  

You were weary with exhaustion, all the running and crying had drained a significant amount of energy from you.  Part of you wanted to stay up all night and be on the lookout for any other tributes, but it wouldn’t be realistic nor smart to begin a cycle of sleep deprivation this early in the game.  You would have to set your paranoia aside for some much needed rest.

You allowed your eyelids to fall as you tried to steady your breathing.  

A few minutes passed and the ever comforting rem cycle was not too far away from you, yet your nose suddenly twitched at a foreign smell, bringing you out of the lulling state.  

A gentle yet heavy scent of lavender and cinnamon overpowered your senses, startling you and causing you to open your eyes to investigate.  

You couldn’t see anything due to how dark it was in your hide-out, but the aura was only growing more and more potent every passing second.  Weirdly enough, your body was growing limp and relaxed although your mind was panicking and racing for some sort of explanation.  

You cupped a hand over your mouth and nose, suspecting that this odd fragrance was the cause.  

You hurriedly tried to crawl out of your nook, the task being difficult with just one hand available to you.  But when you finally made it out, you saw what was truly occurring.  

You felt like a bucket of ice was dropped onto you as you quickly caught onto what was happening.

The barren tunnel was seeping out some sort of fog-like gas.  It was artificially purple and smelled sickly sweet, almost enough to make you gag.  You mentally cursed the gamemakers before holding your breath and making a mad dash in the opposite direction of the gas.  

It must’ve been poisonous to anyone who breathed it in.  Why else would it be here?

You kept running and running, trying to ignore the burning of your lungs knowing that any breath you take will most likely be your last if you didn’t get away from the fog.  

But the gas was gaining ground at an alarming rate, almost biting at the back of your ankles with how close it was.  

Your eyes welled up with tears as your face grew blue due to how long you starved yourself from oxygen.  

You spotted another cave a few yards away and pushed yourself to it, knowing it was your only hope of escaping.  But when you entered it, you let out a frustrated scream at what was there to welcome you; more gas.  

It was attacking you from every direction and you were unable to hold your breath any longer.  

Your eyelids grew droopy as you fell to your knees.  

Was this the end?  

Black spots entered your vision, growing in size until you couldn’t see anything else.  

Your body fell over and the last sound you faintly remember was the triggering of a cannon.  

--

Part Three

“No!  I can still do this!  I can still do this.  One more kill.  It’s the only thing I know how to do.  Bring pride to my district…. Not that it matters.”  -Cato Porcious, fallen tribute of 74th Annual Hunger Games.  

Jungkook didn’t know what to feel when he first woke up to the second day of the 100th annual Hunger Games.  

First, he felt relief.  

He thought for sure that the violet gas of last night had taken him out for good.  

But then, he felt confusion.  

It took only a few seconds for him to process these emotions, study his surroundings, then jump up to his feet in bewilderment.  

In all his years of watching the games and preparing to one day play himself, he never could have anticipated this.

His jaw dropped as he slowly swiveled his head around in order to fully observe what had happened during his rest last night.

The arena….it changed.

It was hardly believable and didn’t make a lick of sense, but there was no doubt about it.  The musty and dark caves no longer encased them. Instead, Jungkook and his allies were lying in the middle of an abandoned street that was surrounded by tall yet barren buildings.  

It looked to be a city, or at least it was at one point.

The metropolitan area had endured lots of damage, some buildings even looked as though they have been bombed at some point.  There were loose bricks and concrete debris spread everywhere; dust, dirt and shards of glass caking lots of surface.  The skyline above was gray and cloudy, an odd film of brown stained the horizon in what must’ve been a pseudo pollution detail.  

It was a massive dystopian city.

“What the hell?”  

The groggy yet deep voice of the boy from One interrupted Jungkook’s silent awe, causing him to snap his attention back to his allies.  

They were just waking up, although Chanyeol seemed to have the head start as he was already sat up and studying what had become of the underground cave system with eyes of exasperated wonder.  For a moment the two were silent, waiting until Joy and Jeongyeon fully awoke and also realized the situation they were in.  

“Well,”  Jeongyeon stretched her arms above her head and yawned leisurely, somehow totally causal despite the giant revelation that just collectively went off in their heads.  Jungkook could never tell if she was genuinely as friendly and aloof as she acted, or if she was just that good at putting on a show for the viewers.  “at least now we know that the purple stuff wasn’t deadly.  Probably was just used to knock us out.”  

Jungkook rolled his eyes and refrained from scolding her for pointing out the obvious.  He routinely wondered to himself if he had the patience of a saint for putting up with District One’s peacock ways.  Their thirst for screen time would’ve been laughable if it weren’t for Jungkook’s high strung nerves that made him more irritable than usual.  

Luckily, Joy also saw the comment as stupid and had no trouble pointing that out.  “No shit, bimbo.”  

Jeongyeon frowned at this, still not used to Twos’ blunt and borderline mean nature.  She turned to her counterpart in search of back up, but the tired oaf of a teen just offered her a shrug and stood up for a morning stretch of those long legs of his.  

“How is this even possible?”  Jungkook murmured to himself, still trying to piece together all the logistics of how the gamemakers did something as drastic as changed the arena with all the tributes unconscious.  

“I don’t know man.  Who are we to question their high-end shit?  They probably just built all this stuff around us.”  Chanyeol said, overhearing Jungkook and budding in as was his custom.  

Jungkook scowled and tried his hardest to swallow down the hellish tick that crawled up the back of his neck.  

Now, he never thought that the games would be a cake walk per say.  Even the strongest of victors had to go through some pretty odd and seemingly unbearable circumstances to win.  Jungkook just assumed that he was capable enough to put up with any shit the gamemakers tossed his way; and it shouldn’t be a lot given he played into their little game and charmed his way into the forefront of the viewers’ minds.  But he guessed he could finally conclude that he underestimated just how difficult they were going to make this Quell.  

It was hard enough to attempt to track you down in the series of underground caves, how the hell was Jungkook going to find you if the very arena changed every single day?  

He felt his eye twitch on its’ own accord as he scanned every single building that stood proud in the doomsday skyline, knowing that there was no possible way he could search through every single one in his journey to find you.  

If you were alive.

14 tributes remained but no one said you were one of them.

His face darkened.  

How foolish had he been to assume that the gamemakers would just give him his love?  They were going to use you like bait, reeling him in and making him jump through hoops as if he was a dog yearning for a treat.  But to be fair, his pride was reduced to that of a dogs’ when it came to you.  

Joy took notice of her counterpart’s gloomy mood.  She licked her dry lips before commenting on it from her criss crossed position on the vacant road. “What’s your problem, loverboy?  Shouldn’t you be happy we’re not dead?”  

The rest of the career pack turned to their ‘leader’ who currently had his back turned towards them.  It was a bold move to taunt Two’s infatuation for you by calling him such nickname, but Joy was just a bold person in general.  It has yet to be said if Jungkook held a soft spot for her by allowing her passes to say such things, or if he was just waiting for the right time to bash her head in.  

“Of course it’s good we’re not dead.  But this twist is going to make everything so much harder.”  Jungkook bluntly responded, pretending to not notice the subtle jab.

Joy snorted.  “You mean it’s gonna make everything harder to find Ten.”  

Jungkook’s sudden silence only made her laugh harder.  

“Yeah, about that…”  Chanyeol trailed off, wondering if now would be a good time to ask the unknown.  “What is going on with you and the girl from Ten?  Why are we looking for her?”  

“She’s mine.”  The reply was short and brutal on Two’s part, shutting down any further inquiries as if he believed that any elaboration would be wasted on such fools.

Joy’s snorts only got louder as she eventually rolled over, clutching her stomach in delirium.  

“Like your girlfriend or something?  I thought the whole thing was an act.”  Jeongyeon scratched her head in confusion, how the hell would two tributes get into an exclusive relationship in the week before the games?  

“Or are you trying to track her down and fuck her?  I heard that the kids from Districts like that stay virgins till marriage.”  Chanyeol conversed, it wasn’t totally unknown for tributes to try to get their rocks off before or even during the games.  Lots of kids didn’t want to die virgins and found the solution within each other.  Of course, this never blossomed into a real romance given there could be only one victor.  Survival outlasted all other primal instincts.  

Jungkook suddenly found himself wondering if it was too late to become a lone wolf in this game.  District One was proving to be as dumb as ever and his own counterpart wasn’t helping matters in the slightest.  

The brute of a teen opened his mouth to spit out a retort, but quickly closed it when he realized he didn’t even know what to say.

The thing was; Jungkook didn’t feel the need to explain shit to anyone.  It wasn’t for them to understand.  Hell, even if he tried there was no possible way he could properly describe it... much less get them to understand.  

“Everyone shut up!  We need to get moving.  There’s still nine other tributes out there that we have to kill.”  Jungkook ordered, smirking in slight satisfaction when they all immediately stood up and got ready at the metaphorical snap of his fingers.  

The next two hours of the day consisted of the pack roaming the ruined streets of the city, silent and on high alert for any other tributes unlucky enough to come across the blood thirsty four. The only sounds to be heard was the light ‘crunch’ of the debris under their combat boots that resulted with every step they took.   What also followed them was an odd chemical smell that appeared to loom in every crevice of the city; a burning rubber scent that caused a scrunch of ones’ nose.  Jeongyeon voiced her concern for it being radioactive, but the three just shrugged, it’s not like they could do anything about it even if they wanted to.  

As the morning faded away to be replaced with the afternoon,  it became barringly obvious that all other weaker tributes would be spared given the careers had yet to spot a single soul.  This lack of action mixed in with hunger and thirst spiked tensions.  Soon enough Joy halted her steps in favor of plopping down on what looked to be a curb, pouting up up at Jungkook in bratty refusal to move any further.  

The pack halted and set their gaze on her.  

Two pairs of eyes peered confused, while the last pair glared ruthlessly.

“The games is more than just killing other people, Kook.  We need to survive too.  If we don’t find food or water soon, we won’t even be able to overpower others.”  Joy complained loudly, rubbing her sore ankles as if to prove her point.

Jungkook let out a low growl under his breath, wiping the sweat away from his forehead while trying to remind himself that he was on camera at all times.  

‘Don’t blow up, don’t blow up, don’t blow up’

“Joy might be onto something.  God only knows what arena we’ll wake up in tomorrow.  The only food we could get from the caves were insects and algae, we should search through these buildings for any scraps.”  Chanyeol attempted to be the voice of reason, without a doubt catching on to the fight that loomed in the near future if Joy and Jungkook didn’t get on the same page quickly.  

“I need to find her.”  This was said through gritted teeth, Jungkook’s patience being worn too thin to play the amicable act any longer.  

“Why must everyone suffer for the sake of your obsession?!” Joy scoffed, irritated that some mute country girl from Ten was being placed as priority one over her well-being.  

Jungkook felt his brow tick.  The familiar burning itch of a fury only infatuated men could understand graced his sensations once again.  The fact that your importance was being questioned was almost blasphemous to Jungkook.  Were they blind?  Of course the first objective had to be you, everyone else was just mere distractions getting in the way of his goal.   He was the big dog in this game, the undeniable winner and if his fellow “allies” knew what was good for them then they’d play along to his plan.  

“Joy, get up.”  Jungkook licked his lips before continuing in a bleak voice; “I won’t ask again.”

Joy rolled her raven eyes and stood up, taking one step forward towards the pseudo leader with a snarl-like expression twisting up the usually pretty features of her face.  “Like hell I’ll follow you! If you’re willing to place some random girl over your allies then maybe we need a new change in leadership.”  

Jungkook could practically feel the unseen cameras zoom in on the scene. The viewers most likely gasping in shock or clutching their pearls with excitement at the power dynamic impasse that the most powerful alliance in the game was facing.

It was silent for a moment, Jungkook boring his ruthless eyes into hers as if to give her a second chance to step down in submission.  

But she never did.  

Instead she looked at the pair from One, whom for once looked rather uncomfortable, and called out in a smug grin; “I’m sure you guys are thinking it too.  Is it irrational for me to question the head of our pack when he values a random girl over our lives?”

Neither Chanyeol nor Jeogyeon answered, instead they both avoided eye contact.  

Jungkook let out a humorless chuckle at her failure to sway a rally against him.  

Now, it was his turn.  

“Joy I’ve been nothing but lenient with you because we’re from the same District and two heads are better than one.  But if I have to strangle that pretty little neck of yours until your face is blue and that cannon goes off, then I will.” Jungkook’s voice was emotionless and barren, as if he was simply reciting lines and not truly expressing his inner most thoughts.  The only reaction to be seen from him was the slight smirk he had when he witnessed Joy’s proud expression drop into a look of doom.  

He continued, “In fact, I don’t owe anyone here anything.  If I truly wanted to I could kill all three of you and not even feel a lick of remorse.  I could rid myself of liabilities and dead weight to further myself in the game.  This alliance is hindering my full potential.  It is me who shows you mercy, keep that in mind with every waking second of your life in this game.”

Joy took a step back whilst Jungkook took one forward.  

“You all saw what I did to Four.  I’m not above killing other careers if they get in my way.”  

“Kook-”

Jungkook raised his hand and silenced her with a harsh backhand to the face. The speed of the action was so quick that the only way Chanyeol and Jeogyeon even realized what had happened was the echoing sound of the hit and the response of Joy cradling the left side of her now redden face.  

Jungkook wasn’t finished either.  

In fact, he seemed all too proud to make an example out of his very own district mate.  

He snatched her hair and dragged her to the ground, forcing her into a crouched position as he lifted his knee to jut her in the stomach.  

She let out a tortured scream at the pain, looking at her other allies for aid only to cry at the realization that she was alone to face his wrath.  

She stared up at the monster of a man, pleading to spot some remains of mercy expected of rational humans.  

But his orbs were empty of any emotion other than pure hatred.  

Jungkook raised a clenched fist once again as Joy screamed.  

--

Part Four

"You know, they're not the only ones who can form alliances" - Victor Katniss Everdeen to Rue Culler in 74th Annual Hunger Games.  

It was the third day of the games.  

You awoke to a feeling of sticky humidity clinging onto your skin.  It was only when you managed to tear your swollen eyes open and sit your weakened body up did you finally discover what hell awaited you that day.

It was a jungle, an awful hot and loud one that was crawling with various types of animals far beyond your understanding.  This was evident in the different sounds you heard echo amongst the trees and bushes; monkeys, birds, frogs and god knows what else.  All the plants around you were vibrant and bursting with colors, practically stunning your tired retinas with the intensity of the shades.  

Perhaps if you felt better you would’ve taken a moment to observe the strange and foreign land that you’d never get to experience again, but the third day was already proving to be the biggest hurdle to overcome.  

The lack of food and water was finally taking its’ toll on your body.  

Your stomach was persistently growling and your lips were so cracked and dried that you’d routinely have to lick off blood from them.  Your esophagus burned due to the scratchy lack of moisture while your cranium pounded ruthlessly.  Even as you got up to stand, you managed to stagger as if half of your strength had magically depleted overnight.  

If you didn’t find food or water soon then you were as good as dead.  

As you took off your wind breaker to tie it around your waist in attempt to adapt to the sudden climate change, you began to ponder possible ways to obtain food and water.  Luckily this new arena was filled to the brim with animals that you could hunt and consume.  Although eating possible insects or exotic pests wasn’t exactly something you’d be proud to do, it was all in the name of survival.  

However you decided that water was the more vital need.  You were already pushing the envelope for dehydration, the expected time without it was three days.  If you had to, you could last a few more days without food.

Jungles meant waterfalls, right?  

Or at least rain?  

You wiped your forehead and heaved a deep breath in preparation for another day that could be your last.  

Although it wasn’t the best strategy, you had no choice but to wander seamlessly without any direction.  What else could you do when the arena changes every 24 hours?  Any knowledge you could retain about your surroundings would prove to be useless come the following day.  Thus you set off into the tree line, hoping to come across some sort of clean water source.  

Out of the three natural settings you had been put into, this jungle was quickly becoming your least favorite.  The very air was heavy with the worst type of heat; a sticky and itchy one that delved into your very pores.  Bugs were constant and slowed you down, they swarmed you as if your blood was a siren and continuously bit at an open surface of your skin.  There also wasn’t any clear pathways to follow, you had to fight your way through all the greenery.  You just hoped that none of the plants you brushed past were poisonous.  

If you had to guess, you would estimate that it had been 15 minutes into your aimless journey when something rather unusual happened.  

You heard a rustle occur from a few feet away from you, a slight one that shook some leaves from a bush nearby.  

Normally, this would be cause for concern in an arena. Yet this jungle was so noisy and bristling with movement that it was hardly noticeable at first.  Hell, it was practically more alive than you were at this moment.  

Your logic was that it was most likely an animal of some kind instead of another tribute.  Nonetheless you stilled and held your breath, anticipating a sudden appearance.  You hardly bit back the urge to run as fast as you could in the opposite direction, but if it was indeed an animal then that action would only trigger a violent reaction against you or even a brutal hunt.  

You fought against the instinct and waited while counting the passing seconds. ‘One, two, three, four-’

A boisterous yell broke from deep within the chest of an unseen attacker.  

In a blurry spasm of movement, you caught sight of a tall yet slender female form burst from the greenery in an insane jump to get to you.  

You barely had time to leap backwards, and even then it was far too late.  The strange girl managed to land on top of your legs, successfully pinning you down to the jungle floor as you helplessly wiggled and tried to get a clear view of her face.  

Her long brown hair managed to block most of it, but by the little glimpses you struggled to get you could see that she was extremely pretty.  Her face was slender yet round with well-defined features and near flawless skin.  Her body was sturdy as she had no trouble keeping you down, even letting out a casual huff as she pushed against your shoulders to keep you in place (as if you were more of a slight bother than a real hassle) when you attempted to sit up and swing.  

You wanted nothing more than to give her a good hit before booking it and never looking back, but the odds were insurmountable.  It didn’t take long before you deduced that she must’ve been fairing far well compared to you.  While your energy had been burned down to simmering ashes as hunger and thirst consumed you, this nameless tribute seemed all too healthy and willingly aggressive.  

Her hands against you shoulder slowly crept up to your neck, slowly curling around the base and pressing her sharp nails into the skin.    

You let out a strangled cry, your dry throat not being able to manage a full out scream.

“Wait a minute.”  Her husky voice rasped before she took one hand to brush her hair back, allowing the sun to capture her now bare face.  

Your breath caught in your throat and suddenly your struggles became more frantic.  

It was the girl from Seven.  

While not a career by any means, she still proved herself a worthy competitor with a high personal score.  And by the way she was glowering above you, it was obvious that she was not afraid to kill to get ahead.

“Aren’t you the girl that Two is in love with?”  She questioned with an indescribable look upon her face.

You stilled.

There are moments in every game where you can directly affect your fate in a very drastic manner.  Camouflaged in her simple question was a bigger dilemma that could either make or break you.  The issue was that you didn’t know which one it will be.  Either you can agree that 2 was indeed in love with you and maybe even give a little white lie about him being your ally.  That had a high probability of scaring her, as who in their right mind would want to mess with him, and by extension you?  However it could be argued that it was also a double edged sword.  Perhaps she was just as ambitious as the careers, if not more so, and would have no problem poking the bear that is Jungkook via killing you.  Maybe she would even enjoy it more knowing that she involved herself into the ‘star-crossed lovers’ story line and put an end to it all, stealing attention from you to her.  

Your eyes furiously swept side to side in attempt to get a better view of your surroundings.

All chances of escaping were futile.  

If you disagreed, her plans to hurt you wouldn’t change and she’d carry on with her murdering of you.  But if you went along with it, there was an almost sure guarantee that she’d have a reaction.  That reaction could be good or bad, but it was the only chance you had.  It was scary to flip a coin on your chances of survival, but what other options did you have?

“Yes, w-we’re together.”  You stuttered out, hoping that she took your awkward tone as a result o her practically smothering your windpipe and not you lying through your teeth.  

Her brow raised at that, her stern expression uplifting for a brief moment to form an over-exaggerated look of confusion and concern.  

“Where is your boy toy then?  Pretty stupid of him to let you wander on your own.”  

“He’s nearby.”  you fibbed, faking confidence and glaring up at her as if she just signed her death wish.  

Jennie let out a giggle, a sound that would be somewhat cute if the circumstances were any different than her about to commit murder.  “Let’s say I believe you.  Do you think he’d get back in time to save you and capture me?”  

You hated to falter, but she did have a point.  

If she was smart, she’d take her chance now to get rid of you because god only knows when she’d come across you again.  And clearly she had the advantage, you had no ability to fight back.  Even if Jungkook was close (which he wasn’t),  she’d still have ample time to end you and run far into the jungle before another tribute could even stumble across the unfortunate scene.  

Tears welled up and blurred your vision.  

You were going to die.  

The end of your simple, short but honest life was going to occur in the middle of some artificial habitat, via a bloodthirsty stranger making a show out of your demise in which your friends and family from home would be forced to watch along with the rest of the nation.  May your corpse be one of many examples the capitol shall use for warning against any possible rebellion.  

You lasted three days, a pathetic 72 hours would be the wrap up of your entire existence.  In some weird twist of desperation you thought about how you could’ve played this game differently.  Would you have survived if you teamed up with Two and the rest of the careers?  If you tried harder to ally yourself with your District mate?  Or if you decided to chase after the kid from Twelve and form a team?  

But while those different paths were clouded in unseen potential, they were void of anything tangible much less useful given your current circumstance.  

You fell limp and gazed up at her hallowly, managing to catch a glimpse of your crying expression in the reflection of her dark orbs.  

She stared back at you; a mutual understanding of what was to come.  

Gone was the show or theatrics, now all that had left to be done was the actual act itself of killing you.

She the predator, you the prey.  

“Any last wor-”

A blurry and hurried movement cut her off, it was so sudden and unexpected that all you were able to process was that 7 was now off of you.  Instead of gazing up at her, your line of sigh was now met with the blue sky and branches of the taller trees.

You blinked slowly in bewilderment.  

Seven was seemingly knocked off of you...but how?  

Strangled yelps and more wrestling movement occurred somewhere beside you, the vibration and intensity of it causing the ground underneath you to quiver, but due to your state of shock you weren’t focusing on it at all.  You were slowly gaining your senses back, you body taking it’s time to adjust to the new ability to breathe freely all the while adapting to the sudden postponement of your death.  

You sat up, ignoring the pounding ache that your cranium responded with, and twisted your head to the side in order to behold what became of your killer.  

You let out a bleak and disbelieving chuckle at the scene that greeted you.

The hunter became the prey.

In some ironic twist of fate, Seven was now pinned under another tribute.  By the throat to be exact, an almost perfect replica of the position you were in just seconds ago.  

Seven was spluttering out, trying her best to yell or at least make some type of noise, but all attempts to do so were futile.  

She stood no chance against the girl on top of her.  

Said girl had inky black hair that was strictly fastened into a high ponytail, her skin was fair and glistening with what must’ve been sweat and her body was lengthy and muscular; making the act of strangling Seven look like a walk in the park.  

It was odd to feel sympathy for the girl who almost just killed you, but watching Seven’s face turn red and eventually blue as she silently screamed was heartbreaking enough to almost make you want to push the mystery girl off of her.  

Almost.  But not quite enough.  

It took some time to strangle someone, so by that logic you should have enough time to get up and run.  This would’ve been a flawless plan if it weren’t for the fact that your legs were numb due to all the time you had Seven on top of you, and thus essentially rendered useless.  

The absolute most you could achieve was some pathetic army-crawl, and obviously that was not going to get you far enough.  

But could it be argued that if this unknown girl truly wanted you dead then she would’ve let Seven had her way with you before offing Seven herself?  

That line of thought was your only chance of getting out of here alive.  

The struggles of Seven eventually subsided, her eyes glazing over unfocused before closing entirely.  Her body went limp as if she suddenly fainted, but the truth was she finally succumbed to the lack of oxygen and died.  

The sound of a cannon shot through the jungle.  

You watched as the girl slowly got off of Seven, heaving a huff and rubbing her hands together as if exhausted from the strenuous activity of literally wringing the life out of someone.  

You lips began to move on their own accord, both pleads and questions racing to get out first.  

She turned to face you.  

Your jaw dropped.  

Technically you weren’t lying at all to Seven.

Two was indeed close by, but it wasn’t Jungkook.

It was Joy.

Her porcelain face was marred with blue and purple bruises, the color so contrasting to her otherwise flawless skin tone that you couldn’t help the inaudible gasp that escaped your lips.  

Who did that to her?

She scoffed down at you, unimpressed with your spineless yet shocked state.

“Calm down, I’m not gonna hurt you idiot.  Why would I save your sorry ass if that was the case?”  

“What do you want then?”  You attempted to bark back, trying to keep some sense of pride in this obvious imbalance of power.  

“Allies.”  She shrugged, as if it was the most obvious thing.  

“And why would I team up with you?”  

She glanced at the fresh corpse behind her before looking back at you, staring at you meaningfully as she said; “Because I’m the only one who knows the truth about you and Jungkook and probably your only chance of fighting back.”

--

^^^ me pretending to not see the 100+ people glaring at me for taking literally months to update.  Anyway, I’m sorry Jungkook isn’t in this part that much but this will be the last part before Y/n’s and Jk’s game fully intertwine.  I planned a really big plot twist to end on but I think I’m just gonna save that for it’s own chapter bc I think I’d need like 10k to do that twist justice.  I think part one was better but like...oh well.  Please comment, reblog and send asks in, all that good stuff.  I miss writer/reader interaction, bro.  Also, the reason the scene descriptions of the arenas are short is bc I originally had plugged in photos of the habitats but the links weren’t working on tumblr.  I can repost them if anyone’s interested.

EXTRA INFO; For those of you who were with me since part one, I did a beta reader thingy for chapter two and I’d really like to do that again for chapter three.  Last time I gave out a quiz and the winners got the chance to read the first 5k and eventually have 24 hour access before it was posted publicly.  This time, I want more in-depth analysis.  So if you wanna be a beta reader for chapter three, please reblog this with an analysis of your own about the story and my writing.  At the end put something like (BR) so I know you are trying out for a beta reader position.  I think I’ll chose around 8-10 people.  And I will reach out to those people when I have them picked out.   

[twinkleallnight]

12 Days of Fictmas

Thank you Erin and Alicia for this wonderful opportunity. This is my first time at fictmas and I hope you enjoy this little treat.

Thank you @txemrn for brainstorming.

Book: The Royal Romance AU

Word count: 1389

Disclaimer: All characters belong to pixelberry.

Rating: Mature

A/N: This is also my submission for sibling appreciation month hosted by @lovealexhunt.

Santa Comes to Town.

It was a cold winter morning when the tiny toddler jumped up into her elder brother’s bed. She frantically moved her tiny hands around the blankets which covered her brother in a warm slumber.

“Dekey! Dekey! Gey-Up! Up! Kishmush! Kishmush!”

The boy pulled the covers over his head. His muffled sound came out. “Not yet, Savvie. It’s still a week to go. Let me sleep.”

The little girl frowned and shouted out at the door, “Mommy! Dekey not getting up. Eeaam mama weebe anggy."

Listening to this, Bianca walked in, her hands full of neatly folded clothes that she stacked properly in the children’s cupboard. She turned around and walked to the little girl who was still sitting at the edge of the bed with pouted lips. Bianca sat down in front of her and looked into her brown eyes. “Sweetpea, you don’t say Liam’s mama. She is the queen. You address her as ‘your majesty’ or ‘madam’.”  

Then she called out, “Drake, you need to get out of that bed, and prepare to host your friend.”

“Yes Mother.” The four-year-old obediently plopped up into the bed rubbing his eyes.

Bianca picked up her daughter in her arms and started walking to the washroom. “Let’s get you dressed up pretty. How would you like that?” The little girl nodded enthusiastically.

The next hour was spent in getting the kids through the morning routine.

While her husband was busy at the palace, as the head of king’s guard, Bianca spent time bringing up her kids with just a bit of the Texan touch in a foreign land.

 Staying in the kingdom of Cordonia, she had carried her roots from the life back from Texas. It could be seen in her lifestyle and her home.

She had beautifully decorated a wall with some rustic crosses where her children stood praying with her, now. After offering their prayers, the kids got busy in decorating their little Christmas tree, that Jackson, their father had managed for them.

“It’s quite small.” He had sighed after placing it in the corner of their living room.

“It is perfect Jack.” Bianca had assured him as they watched Drake and Savannah jumping around it. The tree that appeared small to Jackson, was towering over the little stature of the kids. Savannah was clapping her hands in excitement.

The siblings spent each day adding a little of this and a little of that to their tree. Today it was special as Drake’s best friend, prince Liam was visiting them with his mother, Queen Eleanor.

Bianca was flabbergasted when she received the queen first time, during her stay at Cordonia, soon after her wedding to Jackson. But, over a period of time, she got accustomed to the loving nature of the Queen and her unique ways of mingling with common people. It had somehow become a tradition to host the Queen a week before the Christmas day, at the Walker’s humble quarters.

Bianca was occupied in the kitchen preparing the menu for the visit till late noon. She realised there was pin drop silence in the house. ‘What are these two up to now?’ she worried. She rushed to the bedroom but stopped in her tracks to find Savannah dressed up in her red frilly frock sitting on the floor.

 Drake was holding the little girl’s hand delicately in his, as he was busy painting her tiny nails red. It looked like he had done up her brown curls  in a slightly messy braid. When Savannah sensed her mother, she looked up and Bianca saw her pearly whites shining through the brightly coloured red lips.

Bianca’s heart warmed up to see the doting elder brother still engrossed into his job. “Mommy!” Savannah shrieked. Drake shook with the sudden sound and tipped the nail enamel bottle he was holding on his dress. “I am sorry mother.” He looked apologetically at his mother, worrying that she may scold him for the mess.

Her favourite nail enamel was spilled over and there was a messy shirt to clean but she ignored it all to keep up the spirit. “Don’t worry Drake. The Queen will be here any minute now, it’s time. Let’s quickly change your shirt. As she was helping him into fresh clothes, the doorbell jingled.

Eleanor walked in with Liam.  Savannah was the first to run up to her. She curtsied trying to balance over her wobbly feet. Eleanor picked up the tiny tot in her arms admiring, “Look at you! You are all grown up.”

“Dake dessed me.” Savannah stuttered.  Bianca rolled her eyes and Eleanor caught the gesture, understanding what must have conspired, looking at the makeup and the hairdo. Drake came ahead and bowed to Eleanor shyly.

“Here, here little guy. You did it all by yourself?” she asked him, putting Savannah back on her toes and giving Drake a warm hug. “Look at the hairstyle and the make up! You are good at this Drake. Isn’t she looking cute?” Drake blushed while Savannah twirled around with a glee . “May be some day I can have a little girl just like you!”

The last statement brought big expectant smile on Liam’s face. Bianca gave him a hug, “Bless your heart! Our little prince will love it!”

After everyone exchanged greetings, the ladies settled down for a chitchat while the brother and sister pulled Liam to show their Christmas tree.  

They enjoyed playing around it for some time and then decided to move to the playroom. Drake and Liam each held one of Savannah’s hands and walked with her slow pace as Eleanor watched them go. “Aww! They are so adorable!”

Drake pulled out the wooden blocks and the three of them sat together to make a castle. “Who weebe the king?” Savannah asked.

“Liam will be, Savvie. He is the prince.” Drake told her while Liam smiled at her acknowledging.

“Ann you Dekey?”

“I will be king’s guard, just like daddy.” Drake said with a puffed-up chest.

“Ann I?” Savannah questioned again to understand her role in the pretend play.

“You can be a Duchess!” Liam added.

“Wha do duchesh do?”

“She helps the king at his work.” Liam explained patiently.

Savannah was delighted and agreed to play her role. 

Their game continued till Bianca came in to take them for snacks.

“Momma, Eeaam made me duchesh!” She started telling her mother about their pretend play. Eleanor listened keenly. Liam and Drake exchanged shy looks. Being boys they preferred to keep their games to themselves.

 Bianca served them her traditional chili, Frito and tortillas. They all sat together and feasted over the delicacies. After munching the kolache for dessert, some more plans were made for the coming week and Christmas party.   

Soon, it was time for departure, and Savannah found it overwhelming to let go. Her big brown eyes were welled up as she hugged Liam and addressed the Queen, “Eeaam mama, I wan Eeaam play weeme!” Eleanor laughed at her sweet request.

Bianca picked up her little one and told her firmly, “Savannah Jane Walker! You do not say that. You say ‘Madam'.”

Eleanor ignored the formalities and cupped her cheeks, “Liam is going to go to the palace and set up a big Christmas tree for you. How about you visit us with your Momma and brother later?”

Savannah half-heartedly nodded.  Bianca put her down next to her brother, “Drake, can you take her to her room?”

“Yes mother.” Drake quickly bid farewell to his friend and walked his little sister, who was sobbing silently, to her room. Bianca saw her guests out. When she returned to the children’s room, she was treated with yet another sweet moment. Savannah had lay down with her head in Drake’s lap, her eyelids drooping. Bianca's little son was singing to her in his baby voice, “...Santa’s coming to town…

You better watch out; you better not cry.

Better not pout, I am telling u why.

He sees when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake.

He knows when you’re bad or good so be good for goodness sake.”

She patiently waited for him to finish his verse and then walked in to hug him, “Oh punkin! I love you!”

She kissed him and then lifted almost asleep Savannah from his lap. She cuddled up with her kids humming ‘Santa comes to town'.

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