#like littlest purple

[rimeswithpurple]

Carry On Countdown

Day 19: Fluff

Tali! Finally! I'm so happy to have finally drawn every member of the Salisbury-Pitch family from my fic with @thewholelemon, Infinity in a Teacup.

Fun facts: Tali's full name is Natalius Anchor Salisbury-Pitch (Natalius for a boy version of the name Natasha and Anchor for the butter brand)

Simon and Baz thought his nickname would be Nat. Then Lucy called him Tali and it stuck

Also on AO3!

[stitchwraith-stingers]

abunch of gifs i made for stimboards, feel free to use

1 2 3 / x / 4 5 6

[niadotcom]

it is a serious thing // just to be alive / on this fresh morning / in the broken world.

pictures I've taken that I think you'd like, a fragment of a poem by Mary Oliver that I think you'd love

the flowers are beautiful

[radfemsiren]

Remembering my Afghani American best friend from my islamic elementary and middle school whose dad would get drunk every night and beat the shit out of her mother. She begged and begged for sleepovers because strangers in the house would make him leave, and I never told my parents about the situation (I lied and said she had no father or brothers) because I loved spending time at her house and staying up the whole night doing all the things we weren’t allowed to do that was “haram”… watching rated r movies, playing horror computer games, dancing to music videos on YouTube, cat walking in heels and makeup, scaring ourselves with creepypastas.

I remember we had a million stupid ass discussions about who the purple guy from five nights at Freddies was, or what a slenderman proxy meant, or if there were illuminati signs in Katy Perry music videos, or if emo drawings of Jeff the killer were hot. We’d whisper fight if Beyoncé or Lana del Rey was a better singer, or if teen wolf or maze runner had cuter boys. She was team Beyoncé and teen wolf.

We had to constantly be separated in school for talking, and we hated the creepy janitor and would throw wads of wet paper towel on the bathroom ceiling for him to clean up later. We got into so much trouble together, and would always smirk at each other in detention when we got yelled at. We’d shoplift lipsticks from the mall, and throw away expensive Quran transliterations from school, and sneak into the teachers break room and steal handfuls of ice and throw them on the imam/principal’s desk when he was gone to ruin his paperwork.

I moved away like I always had to do with my constantly migrating family and we lost touch. The last time I saw her in person was when we were still kids at her brothers wedding. I was laughing while I tried to ask her why the bride kept changing into different brightly colored dresses throughout the night. She wasn’t listening, and she burst into tears and cried about how her brother was just like her father and did every horrible thing he did. I held her and squeezed her so tight I thought her bones would break.

I recently tried to reconnect with her again but she’s already married, pregnant, and has abandoned social media and texting because it’s “haram.” Trying to talk to her was like speaking to a stranger… she had no interest in any of the things we would spend hours playing with before. “Islam is important to me now, I’m a new woman. We were messed up kids, it’s time to grow up.” She told me to never contact her again and hung up the phone.

Sometimes I feel like I failed her, and sometimes I understand that I was a girl trying to survive too.

One day I’ll save money to travel back there and talk to her in person. I’ll snap her out of it. We’ll spend all night up together again doing every terrible thing our teachers and parents and religious leaders warned us against, and laughing the whole way through it. We’ll get kicked out of bars and get into trouble and snicker our way through it all, knowing we’ve already won. I still have her dirty, worn, my littlest pet shop horse she gave me when we first met. I hold it in my hands when I see news of the what’s happening to the women of Afghanistan, and I feel like I’ve failed her again. That I’ll forever be stuck an immature child and her a miserable adult, both of us doomed, unable to be saved from our fates in the end.

[irisintheafterglow]

thoughts are thonkin' about summer camp counselor!gojo

"hmm, let's go with truth."

"do you like any of the other counselors?" ooohhhh. the children in the circle around you lean forward in anticipation. you can practically see the excitement in their eyes and you coyly dodge the question, well aware their reactions would be less than satisfied.

"oh, yeah! i like all the counselors!" you chirp happily and the kids groan, protesting 'not like that!' or 'you know what we mean!' you ignore them and push on, continuing, "shoko's basically my best friend, and i actually met her through this camp a long time ago; geto always lets me borrow his hairties; nanami...i guess i appreciate him for trying his best and coming back year after year." a few of the older campers from the cabin nanami always took charge of (because "they were more mature," in his eyes) snicker at your commentary on their favorite grumpy counselor, but one little girl in a purple tie-dyed shirt persists. you recognize her as one of geto's immediately; he always called dibs on playing 'mother' for the littlest ones in camp.

"what about counselor gojo?" her eyes are big and curious, still intrigued by your answers even when the rest of the group has moved on.

"remember, you can only ask one question per turn," nanami announces blandly from across the circle, though you do notice that the edge to his voice is gentler than usual. as much as he complains about the energy of the younger campers, he always seemed to be softer with them; though, you've never commented on it for fear of him becoming self-aware.

"he's right. that's two questions, my friend," you reply kindly, quickly moving the hot seat to the next camper, one of shoko's wearing a brown camp shirt. "alright, looks like it's your turn. truth or dare?"

"i hope you rascals are behaving. it's laps around the tennis courts if you're not." the front door to the main house opens and shuts, shoko entering with a train of middle schoolers at her heels. they'd embarked into the summer night to retrieve a camper's water bottle that was left at the edge of the lake. now that she's returned, her group eagerly makes room for her and the rest of their cabin until the circle nearly covers the entire living room. "they have behaved, right?"

"of course," you confirm. "they've been nothing but angels since you left." shoko hums and raises her eyebrows once, unamused. "what, you don't believe me?"

"nah, just that gojo's kids must not be here yet." you fight down the smirk that wants to appear on your face when, at the exact moment shoko comments on their absence, the loudest and rowdiest cabin arrives at the house. "speak of the devil-"

"i literally just got relaxed," mumbles suguru while he sits down with a disposable cup of warm tea from the kitchen. his girls lean over to see what he's drinking, asking if they can try some too. "later, later. let's all make room for counselor gojo's cabin, my friends."

"oi, wipe the dirt from your shoes or i throw you in the lake!" his cabin drawls out a half-hearted response, stamping on the welcome mat before filing into the living room. gojo's voice was still outside on the front porch. over the years, you learned he always took up the rear when his cabin was on the move, letting the most energetic of the bunch lead from the front and herding any stragglers at the back. according to your girls, he was the notorious 'hot camp counselor' that all the cabins fawned over. they called him charming, blushing over how carefree he was and how handsome he was when he smiled. you tried not to feed into any rumors about you and gojo having a thing for each other...

but he made it pretty difficult when he shimmied into the seat next to you and stared at you like there weren't several dozen children watching your every move.

"hi. you come here often?" he greets with a blinding smile before turning to the rest of the group. "so, what are we playing?" he sits with his legs crossed and one arm propped up behind you, the arm closest to you so that it occasionally brushes your shoulder. you shoot him a look of warning and he winks at you, going back to camp counselor mode in a split second. "this looks like a great truth or dare circle."

"it was, but there might be too many friends to play that game now. plus, we were only playing it to kill time," suguru says. the current number of campers made it hard to entertain everyone with a simple game like truth or dare, so it was up to the counselors to figure out a different game.

"i think kamo and todo's groups are still at the pool," shoko reminds everyone. "nanami and i can take a group over if you wanna go." a camper from nanami's cabin raises his hand.

"but aren't we still waiting for counselor haibara?" nanami shakes his head, the keys attached to his yellow leopard print lanyard jangling around his neck.

"counselor haibara's cabin is on dishes duty tonight. they're probably gonna go straight to bed when they're done."

"which will be soon for all of you, especially you little ones," you point out, glancing at the girls falling asleep on either side of suguru. all of the conscious campers grumble and you smile. they had so much fun every day of camp that they never wanted to go to sleep. "c'mon, you have to sleep if you still wanna do s'mores at the bonfire tomorrow." this raises their spirits a little bit and they come to the consensus that they need to play one more game before they go to sleep.

"alright kids, whatcha wanna play?" satoru folds his sunglasses and sticks them on the collar of his camp shirt. you ignore the way his bicep flexes under the rainbow tie-dyed fabric, willing the heat in your cheeks to dissipate. "there's heads up seven up, mafia, assassin-"

"can you tell us one of your stories, counselor gojo?"

"yeah, tell us a story from when you guys were campers." you can hear the gears turning in satoru's head and you lay a hand on his shoulder before he can launch into his tale.

"hold on, just so we're clear: you get a story instead of a game, is that okay with everyone? if we're not done by," you glance at the clock, "9:30, we'll save the rest of the story for tomorrow night, good?" the entire group nods their agreement, aside from the littlest ones who were dozing in suguru's arms. the kids get comfortable, leaning on each other and wrapping sweaters around their bodies like blankets. "take it away, then," you say to satoru.

"cool! i think i'm gonna tell you all about how i confessed to my camp crush," he states and you catch every other counselor in the room roll their eyes. somewhere across camp, a shiver probably ran up haibara's spine. evidently, satoru notices too, as he points at the rest of the counselors accusingly and says, "hey, just because you've heard this before doesn't mean i don't get to tell it again!"

"we didn't just hear it before, gojo," shoko says, rolling her eyes. "we were literally there." their beloved counselors becoming like characters in a fairy tale entice the kids even more to listen.

"so, a long, long time ago-"

"like when the dinosaurs were alive?"

"hey, i'm not that old," he frowns and the kids break into giggles. "anyways, a really long time ago, i had the biggest crush on another camper. the first time i saw them was at the lake. i was so shocked by them that i fell off my paddleboard."

"no way!"

"aww, that's so cute!"

"it's true," comments suguru after a sip from his tea. "i was in a kayak right next to him and he was so distracted, he ran into a rock and flew forward." more laughter echoes around the room and you even see nanami trying to hide a small smile.

"so, how'd you start talking to them?" you ask with a sparkle in your eyes.

"that's the thing," satoru continues, waving his arms around in dramatic gestures for emphasis. "for a while, i didn't even talk to them. i was so nervous and they were so pretty, like they were totally out of my league!"

"i don't think anyone's out of your league, counselor gojo," swoons one of the little ones from suguru's cabin. "i bet that person had a crush on you too, but you didn't know it!"

"that's very nice of you to say," satoru replies, briefly meeting suguru's eyes. suguru shrugs over the lid of his cup, his face an expression along the lines of 'i didn't teach them to be that friendly to you.'

"when did you actually start talking to them, counselor gojo?"

"yeah, and what did you talk about?"

"did you kiss them-"

"or did they kiss you first?"

"ew, kissing! gross!" the group teeters on the edge of falling into chaos, but it's exactly where satoru thrives.

"wait, wait, wait. too many questions, friends." all attention in the room snaps back to him. "and for the record, i did not kiss them the first time i talked to them," satoru reiterates with a nervous chuckle.

"then what did you talk about?"

"the easiest thing to talk about when you're here at camp," he replies. "i asked them if they wanted to see the stars with me." the lightbulbs blink to life in each camper's head and they grin in understanding. the area's constellations and views of space were always a fan-favorite, no matter the year. it was the one event every single camper and counselor looked forward to, and each person had a designated 'space buddy' to look at the stars with (and to also ensure no one wandered off in the dark woods alone). "i asked if they wanted to be my space buddy and, thankfully, they said yes."

"who was usually your space buddy, counselor gojo?" suguru wordlessly raises his hand on the other side of the circle. "wait, then who was counselor geto's space buddy?"

"it's how we became friends, actually," answers shoko. "counselor gojo stole my usual space buddy, so i had to partner with someone else."

"aww, that's so cute! wait..." the dots start to connect in the campers' minds and you stiffen, praying they didn't see the connection between the earlier truth-or-dare question and shoko's explanation. one of the older kids narrows his eyes at you, flicking between you and satoru with great suspicion.

"didn't you say earlier that shoko was your-" one of the littles can't hold their question and interjects before the big kid can finish their sudden inquiry.

"counselor shoko, who was your usual space buddy?"

"oh, it was always my best friend," she says without hesitation, looking over at you innocently. "and, if you didn't already know, my best friend is-"

"it's 9:30, big kids pack it up," nanami cuts in and you exhale, wiping your clammy palms on your shorts. a glance at satoru reveals him as suave as ever, but you do notice the single bead of sweat running down the side of his temple. "don't complain. you're already out later than i usually let you."

"that goes for you too, my littles," suguru says, ushering the sleepy children out the door after the bigs. "night, guys," he waves before stepping outside.

"we should probably get going, too. we'll tell the rest of this story tomorrow." as shoko's cabin leaves, satoru catches your eye.

"you wanna head out first or should we?"

"we can head out together, no? our cabins are right next to each other." the tiniest smirk appears on satoru's face.

"sounds good, you lead the way."

as both your group and satoru's walk out of the main house, you linger behind and let your kids navigate back to the cabin. when you're sure none of the kids are watching, you casually brush your hand against satoru's. he reacts immediately, lacing his fingers in yours and giving your hand a squeeze.

"hi, boyfriend," you say low enough that only he can hear.

"two more days," he mutters mostly to himself. "two more days and then i have you back to myself."

"c'mon, shouldn't we give back to the camp that brought us together in the first place?" you keep your voice as quiet as possible to not draw attention from the kids, your conversation blending with the sounds of the swaying forest and calling birds. "it's good karma, don't you think?"

"sure. doesn't mean i don't get mad when i can't love on you." you can hear satoru pouting even when you can't completely see his face. "are we ever gonna tell them about us? it's been a few years; most of the little ones we knew first are with nanami now."

"maybe we can tell them tomorrow. give them a little brain exercise trying to figure out who was your space buddy on that fateful night," you tease. he bumps his shoulder against yours, daring to sneak a kiss on your cheek. "satoru-"

"i know, i know. i just need reassurance that you're still mine, sometimes." the light of the cabins come into view and you reluctantly pull away from satoru. "ouch," he winces like he has a rock in his shoe. "i don't like that at all."

"what, me not holding your hand anymore?"

"mhmm, so don't be surprised if i tell the campers tomorrow," he says with an air of finality. "i'll take the teasing and the pestering as long as you're okay with it. i just can't take not being able to kiss you."

"of course i'm fine with it," you nod, finally catching up to your groups. you give them the signal to go inside and get ready for bed, stalling outside with satoru until you run out of time. "i'll see you in the morning, counselor gojo." he makes a gagging face that forces you to cover up a snort with a fake cough.

"if that sleeping bag isn't warm enough, you know where to find me," he says with a smirk as you begin to walk away. his body moves before his mind knows it, catching you by the wrist before you're too far. "hey. i love you." his gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips. he was so desperately trying not to kiss you.

"i love you too," you murmur, seeing more sparkle in his eyes than in all of the campground. "sweet dreams, my love."

"sweet dreams, space buddy."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[reallyromealone]

so... if it's not too much trouble, can you write something about the Haitani brothers with a little baby brother?

Title: Littlest siblings

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Pairing: Haitani brothers x male reader

Warnings: platonic (obviously), male reader, baby reader, fluff, slice of life

☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️

(name) was sleepy as he cuddled into rans shoulder, the eldest gently rocking the babe with a soft hum as Rindō put together a crib for him, their mom decided getting knocked up was a great idea and once she realized that she would once again have to be responsible for a child-- not that she was responsible with them, she ditched the littlest Haitani with his brothers at nine months old.

Though annoyed at their mom, they welcomed the youngest sibling readily and even let him sleep in Rans bed till the crib and other furniture arrived, the Kanto members dropping pretty pennies for (name).

"Don't worry, you aren't missing anything" Ran teased the babe who struggled to keep awake as he suckled on his pacifier, signature Haitani purple eyes slowly closing as Ran felt him go limp in his hold "he acts like he's gonna miss something big" Rindō snorted as he finished the crib, mumbling something about bullshit instructions. The two refused to let a lower member put it together, not trusting those dumb fucks to make sure it's suitable for the babe who stretched out when he was placed in it "he sleeps like you" Rindō said jokingly but the babe really did love sleeping like Ran but also had unyeilding curiosity that conflicted with naps.

The two looked down at (name), their baby brother; prince of roppongi and their ray of sunshine.

"We are going to make sure he has nothing less than the best" Rindō said seriously and ran smiled at his younger brother, the spark of being an older sibling clear in Rindōs eyes as he looked back at the baby "only the best for a Haitani"

[water-to-drink]

Be a Gladiolus in a Field of Belladonnas pt14

Cloak and Dagger of the Archons

(Summary): Finally getting tired of their helpless position the archons decide to take action into their own hands

Part 1 Last Part Next Part

✧ Masterlist ✧

(Characters): Yae Miko, Ei, Nahida, Zhongli, Venti, Furina, Mavuika,

(Tags/Warnings): Mavuika archon name might be wrong (will change it if is), Mavuika might be ooc, not proof read

(Word Count): 1.4k

A soft hum reverberates throughout the halls. The humming comes from a sly fox familiar, finally making her way to a room she slides open the shoji to reveal an empty room

“Okay Ei, it’s time to come out.” Yae announces. “Ei? You know I’m impatient, It’s been so boring without you lately.” The Miko whined

Met with silence the pink haired woman focused on sensing the familiar consciousness of her master, only to find nothing

Confused she didn’t notice a soldier walking past only to stop once he spotted her. “Ohh, Lady Yae. If you’re looking for the Shogun, she’s not here.”

“What do you mean ‘she’s not here?’ Where else would she be?”

“I don’t know, but a man from Liyue came and she left with him.” The soldier explained

“Hmm, where could she have gone?”

“Achooo!” Sneezed the purple haired archon

“Bless you.” The littlest archon said

“Thank you, Buer.”

“Hehe, the almighty Shogun sneezing, I thought I never see the day.” Venti giggled

“I don’t see it to be a laughing matter, it could be due to someone talking about me, I just wonder who.” Ei pondered

“What is the deal with this domain, Morax?” Mavuika asked the taller gentleman

“This domain is what I assume to have belonged to their Grace when they still were with us.”

“How can you be so sure of that?” Ei asked

“And why weren’t we made aware of its existence?!” Furina asked

“I apologize but I didn’t want the existence of this domain be known by that imposter.”

The archons all looked at each other with concern expressions at the mention of your doppelganger, Nahida turns to look at Zhongli

“How did you come across this domain, Morax?”

“It was right after their Grace’s death.” Zhongli began

He remembers that day as if it had happened yesterday. The skies pouring rain down onto the geo archon, as if Teyvat was itself is mourning the loss of its creator

As he kept on walking through the field, the clouds part to reveal the field has sprouted many flowers. Flowers that glitter in the sun in the same manner your blood did when spilled

The flowers tell a story of a battle that fought here, a battle that you had to fight on your own. Rage and sorrow fills the god, he falls to his knees and frantically began to rip the flowers out of the ground as tears ran down his face. He could have been there to help you, to at least protect you, but you felt like you needed to fight this battle alone

why?

Why?

WHY?!

WHY WHY WHY?!?!

Why did things have to end like this? Why wasn’t he there to stop this from happening?!

Morax wailed and wailed until his throat started hurting. When he stopped he saw a petal with a light blue aura floating above the ground

Reaching out towards the petal he was instantly transported somewhere

A domain of sorts, its walls were lined with gold and lapis lazuli embedded into them. It was massive and empty, like it had been subject to neglect, it was luxurious none the less.

A place that reminded the dragon of you and it dawned on him that this domain belonged to you, whatever the reason you abandoned it, it will be a monument to you and your greatness

Zhongli finished telling the other archons and they all had mournful looks on their faces

“I’m so sorry you had to experience that, Morax.” Mavuika consoled

“It was a very difficult time, but I rather have this domain be in my hands than anyone else’s, Aym.”

“You should be proud of the work you amassed theoughout the centuries.” Ei said as she looked at the bookshelves that reach the ceiling

“Only the best for their Grace, and might I ask do you know what’s behind that door?” Furina asked gesturing towards the door

“Unfortunately I do not. I was hoping for their Grace to know when they descended.” Zhongli explained

Venti leans in towards the door to examine the keyhole, instead of it being the standard keyhole it was circular with 4 other smaller circles extended from the larger one

“It’s a pretty odd keyhole. I’m surprised you didn’t try to bust it down through brute force.” Venti giggled. The archons looked at the elder archon who is looking down a bit shamefully. “Well I wonder what’s behind this door.”

“It might be due to them wanting to hide something.” All the archons whipped their heads towards Ei. “I remember one time when their Grace visited Inazuma they called themselves a ‘monster’ especially after ‘what they done.’ When I tried to press further they refused to elaborate.” Ei explained

“It didn’t help that their Grace was very secretive about their past. I’m pretty sure that the knowledge we have on them is already common.”

As the gods talked amongst themselves the littlest of them pondered and pondered until it dawned on her

“Maybe there’s something in the Akademiya’s secret archives.” Nahida spoke out

“Why do you did there’s something useful to us is in some place so dusty.” Venti asked as he continued on with the other archons

The gods followed as the littlest one lead them through the secret basement

“This is where the supposed belongings of their Grace.” Nahida explained as she kept walking until she stopped in front of a large door

Nahida placed her hand on the door and it lit up with a green aura before the doors open. “It should be in here.” She continued to walk

“Why do you seem uncertain about the ‘key’ being here?” Furina asked

“Oh well, I didn’t know of this place when I was imprisoned.”

“What?!” Ei, Furina, and Mavuika said in unison

After several minutes of explaining Nahida’s imprisonment by her people

“How awful, I will teach you how to use a sword to strike down those traitors!” Ei said as Mavuika nodded her head in agreement

“N-no thank you!” Nahida shot the offer down

“How about taking those snakes to trial! If they think they can imprison a god then they should have the courage to face one in court!” Furina exclaimed

“They were already taken care of.” Nahida said trying to calm the three archons down. “With the help of the traveler and their Grace they freed me from my prison. Though, I don’t have any memories of their Grace when they walked Teyvat, they try to make it up to me.”

“You’re my daughter now, I don’t care what anyone says.” Your voice rings throughout her ears causing her heart to fill with joy, visiting various places across Teyvat was already enough for her. “I want you to see the world as it is, so let’s go exploring, Nahida!” You encouraged making Nahida smile

Bringing herself back, Nahida looks up at the archons who are smiling at her

“Did that imposter know of your imprisonment?” Venti asked

The bright smile quickly fell off of Nahida’s face and the other archons already knew the answer

“How vile! Them standing by while an archon was imprisoned by her own people!” Ei clenched her fists

“We should stop stalling before we get even more sidetracked.” Zhongli said seeming stoic as ever but the others could tell his anger was steeping through by the slight tremor that could be felt on the ground

The archons decided it was best to continue and began looking through the artifacts. Many of which were obviously fake and thus toss to the side, this continued for a good few hours until one of them felt a faint presence

Ei holds up what looks to be a brooch up for the archons to get a proper look. Upon closer examination they all could see that the brooch had 4 empty slots for something circular to be slotted into them

“Is that what I think it is?” Venti asked amazed

“That is no doubt that the brooch belonged to their Grace by the faint aura it is emitting.” Zhongli confirmed

Quickly taking the petal out of his breast pocket and transporting him and the others to the domain. Ei hands the brooch to Zhongli and walks towards the door to bring it to the keyhole

It fits perfectly

Taglist:

@chuuya-brainrot @creation-magician @tartarsaucechi1de @vvyeislazzy @aludicpoet @undecidingfate @annoying-mary @randomnatics @bore2808 @esthelily @yurivision @angelamelamela @chocolatekuns @ghost-mint @mmmhyperfixation @legendaryexperthideout @lapinaenmicoche @sinsdumbdrabble @rebeccawinters @imyme20 @nymphsdomain @sun7lowxr @blackcoffex @itz-luna @flowerpesky @land-of-eternity @deathcvltcivilofficial @d4y-dr3am3r @yuriclouds @artwitch @mercy-not-merci @xyaxyn @starxvs @dreamoffireflies06 @desirabletravel

[bangaveragewhitewine]

Hearts are wild creatures

Dad!Steve Harrington x Mom!Reader

Halloween, 1999

A simple worn-before couple’s costume and drinks with friends. Kissing like teenagers and hushed voices. You and Steve, a night to make up for lost time before Halloween-morning with your two little girls.

Takes place two years after soft slow, morning glow

Word count: 6.4k

Contents: Parent!Steve & Reader. Explicit (18+) - oral (f!receiving), p-in-v sex (reader is on birth control, but wrap it up, friends!). Breeding kink. Parental domesticity - Steve & Reader have two kids, mention of a difficult pregnancy, sickeningly sweet domestic fluff.

Author’s note: This started as soft Halloween-flavoured domesticity and then I imagined Steve dressed as Johnny Castle… we couldn’t not go there. 

Thank you @specialagentmonkey for proofreading and being wonderful. And for watching ST from the start with me! And thank YOU, dear reader, for being here. I hope you enjoy it!

Tucked away in the Chicago suburbs, your little house matches its companions in the cosy cul de sac; the residents of Elm Crescent had transformed their homes and gardens into a Halloween Wonderland as exciting for the adults as it was for the kids. You knew you had made the right choice buying your first home here. 

The garden has been prepared for a night of costumed trick-or-treaters, the path flanked by two homemade sheet-ghosts and leaves raked in vain leaving the green lawn clear for those that fell since yesterday afternoon. Four carved pumpkins guard the house from their spot on the front steps, arranged from largest to littlest - one for each of you.

Inside, tissue-paper ghosties with wobbly marker-drawn smiles made by tiny hands float on lengths of thread, seasonal art projects take pride of place in the kitchen, and paper bats guard the stairs from their hanging place on the spindles. Nothing too scary to frighten a four and nearly-two-year-old, all brightly childish orange and purple and green, smiling instead of scaring. 

Halloween fell perfectly in ‘99 - a Sunday night for tricks and treats meant that you and Steve could make grown-up plans on Saturday. A simple worn-before couple’s costume, a competent and willing babysitter, and drinks with friends in a too-loud bar that you all left early to get pizza and a cab home. It was later than you had stayed up or out in months, maybe years, and you both felt almost giddy with excitement. Far from the late and boozy Halloween nights of your early years as a couple, it was exactly the night you and Steve had wanted. 

Back home, your Johnny and Baby costumes were barely folded before you crawled into bed together and kissed like off-the-leash teenagers, keeping your voices and giggles low while your babies slumbered peacefully down the hall. 

After paying the babysitter from across the street, making sure she got home safe, neither you nor Steve could resist a peek at the two sleeping girls when you got home, both sentimental (and a little broody again) as you held each other gazing at their little dreaming faces. Beth with her bunny-teddy pillowing her cheek (reminding you to wash it soon with lavender detergent and steaming hot water) and Ava, sweet little Ava, starfishing in her crib. Your tiny girl takes up so much space in your hearts, pulls attention in every room she enters with her big brown eyes and honey-blonde hair; she is your little cherub. 

You had missed them on your night out, tried not to count the minutes since you had left or until you got home to them. Steve had felt the same, but you knew they were safe and (hopefully) sleeping. So, you tried and succeeded in letting yourselves be distracted by your brilliant little group of friends, strong drinks and each other - all of which came easily, with warm cheeks and loud laughter, stolen kisses while your friends pretended to take offence that you loved each other more than them. 

Now, at home in your cosy little bedroom, Steve’s hand skates upward, feeling the dips and curves of your body as your lips lock in a needy kiss. Smiling against your mouth, he greedily swallows the soft noise pulled from your throat. His hand finds its home, cupping your breast through soft shell-pink satin, as the other holds your hand pinned to the sunshine-coloured cotton sheet.

Two kids later and he is still utterly obsessed with you, in love with all of you - especially the bumps and marks of motherhood that came with each perfect girl. You had spent most of the night tucked to his side, pretty pink contrasting his tight black shirt and jeans. Robin had tried to sit between you at one point and you had been hauled onto the warm sturdy throne of Steve’s lap, his chin on your shoulder as he argued with his best friend over whether they should do karaoke or shots next. Except for quests to the bar for more drinks and a few trips to the bathroom, you hadn’t been without his warm touch since you left the house. He would have held your hand while you peed if he could, would have accompanied you to the bar except your friends forced you to be apart ‘for five fuckin’ minutes, dude.’

His lips skate lower, abandoning your kiss-swollen lips to nibble your jaw and seek out that spot on your neck while his thumb presses firmly against your nipple. Your brow creases in pleasure when he finds it; the quiet gasp ‘Steve’ is whispered into his hair, edging toward a whimper. 

“Mmhm? M’here, baby.” Tipsy from a lower alcohol tolerance and drunk on you, Steve’s voice is hot against your neck. 

Your fingers wrap over his own as he presses you into the mattress, his black Calvin Klein’s straining with need, with want. Your own underwear have been damp since his hand settled on your thigh in the cab at the start of the night. 

Your fingers slide into Steve’s hair, directing him back to your lips as his thigh slots snugly into the apex of your spread legs. 

“Yeah? There?” he murmurs, smiling cockily.

It had been far too long since you had time alone like this; too tired after work or parenting, one or both of you needed to dry tears and check for monsters after a bad dream just as hands began to wander beneath the covers. 

Your hips roll, electrified, grinding on the firm bulk of his thigh. “Please, Stevie…” 

You both know you could get off like this and if he thought that was what you really wanted - what you needed - Steve would let you. He would gladly watch you come undone, guide your hips and be whatever you need him to be. But neither had forgotten your hot whisper against his ear as Eddie carried a tray of drinks and shots back to your table earlier; the way your lips grazed Steve’s neck as you so quietly asked him to fuck you into the mattress when you got home. 

You had watched his eyes blow wide and pressed a rose-pink kiss to his cheek (warm and blushing) while your friends placed bets on when Baby Harrington the Third would be coming. 

Steve peels himself back, kneeling on the bed as he palms himself at the sight of you. You feel saliva pool under your tongue as you rake your eyes from his thighs, over that substantial bulge, and up his furry chest. He is nothing short of breathtaking, and Steve thinks just the same of you. 

Your fingers slip over the nude lace of your underwear, biting your lip when you brush over the damp spot visible even in the low light from the bedside lamp. You don’t play long, already too worked up, and push your panties down toward your thighs with a lift of your hips. 

Steve takes over, like a baton-pass, and eases your legs up against his chest with your feet against his shoulder. Your underwear is slipped off and thrown carelessly behind him, somewhere on the floor. He presses kisses to your calf, a curving path up over your ankle and the top of your foot before each leg is laid down gently on either side of his spread knees. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows before pushing yourself up to sit and meet Steve for another kiss; it is smiling and sweet and a little dirty. Your fingers hook into his waistband before taking a greedy handful of his unfairly pert behind, making him laugh against your mouth. 

“You going to give me what I want?” you murmur, kissing his chin. Your other hand slips down the front side, fingers wrapping around to squeeze his hard length as you look up through your lashes. 

“Anything. Everything.” Steve’s eyes flutter closed and he cups your cheek in one huge hand, blindly bringing you back in for another kiss. 

Your voices are just loud enough for each other to hear in the golden glow of your bedroom. You miss the days when you could be loud, but wouldn’t change it - take a day trip to the past perhaps, when you didn’t have to restrain your desire to a quick fuck after dark, or during nap time while the washer and dryer run in the background like white noise,

Maybe in a few weeks, before the craziness of the holidays, you can stow away to a hotel for a night or two and cash in on the babysitting offer from Aunties Robin and Nancy. 

But tonight is perfect nonetheless. It’s perfect when you shove Steve’s briefs down his thighs and when his fingers skate over your back to undo your bra (before it joins your underwear and his on the floor). You lay back, taking Steve with you, and hook your leg over his hip and bring him as close as you can all over again. 

All there is right now is you and Steve. You’re well-practised enough to be quiet. 

Covetous hands palm over hips, fingers thread into hair, pulling each other close and closer still. Steve finds his home between your thighs and leans over, dipping to kiss you as his fingers press and tease, push inside you with care. His fingers stretch just right and curl up to seek out the place that makes you drool. 

“Lemme have a little taste?” he asks against your mouth, smiling when a whine catches in your throat. “Yeah? Can I?” 

“So greedy.” Your cheeks are warm and crease when his smile sets you off. 

“I am. I can’t get enough of you.” His straight white teeth nip your lower lip, a bite he soothes with his tongue. “I think you love it…” 

You gasp as his fingers curl again before he withdraws them, and watch as he licks your wetness from them. 

Steve winks as his lips trail lips lower, over your chest and the softness of your tummy, your hips and the places on your thighs that jiggle a little bit. Steve presses a feathery kiss to your swollen bud before licking out his tongue to part your lips

Steve’s prone to getting sidetracked down there - not that you would ever complain about your husband who loves to go down on you - but you have been thinking of being railed by him since last Wednesday. 

The begged-for ‘little taste’ quickly becomes so much more.

There’s nothing ‘little’ about Steve - not his hands or his thighs, his biceps or his manhood, or his heart. His appetite for you certainly is not little or lacking either. With his hand on your thigh, the other on the cheek of your ass, he makes your thighs tremble with a few skilful licks and the soft suck of his mouth. His nose rests and nudges against the pudge of your mound, darkened eyes fixed on you as he flicks his tongue.

He watches how your jaw drops, the crease in between your brows. You feel dizzy, anchored only by the weight of his hand spreading your thigh higher, wider for him. 

The burning want in your belly flames hot and bright as Steve buries his face between your thighs. His tongue presses firm and flat, encouraged when your fingers slide into his hair to keep him ‘right there, oh!’ 

Silenced by your own hand, you feel that white-hot tight-winding feeling as his fingers slide home again. The sound of his wet mouth on you sounds so loud, the same volume as the throb of your heart, the blood rushing in your ears. A whimper of Steve’s name is stifled, a high choked-up noise in your throat as his scalp burns from tugging fingers. 

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, amped up and tightly wound after a night of teasing and wanting, and the long groping make-out and grind in the kitchen after the babysitter left.

Steve’s solid weight keeps your hips low to the bed, even when your back arches sharply.  An expert at your pleasure now, seeking it out and making you see stars every time, he keeps up the pace and pressure, with his fingers and tongue. He knows what you need, how you like it - never stale, never disappointing. 

Your body attempts to curl up on itself, feeling too good. Slowly, carefully, Steve drags his mouth to kiss your shaky thigh before making his way back to lie alongside you. His damp fingers, wrap around his diamond-hard length to give some sort of relief. 

Glowing and giggly, you gaze up at him and drag Steve in for a kiss. “Knew you were a greedy boy.” Your voice is quietly breathy, shaking with that post-orgasm wobble as he laughs against your mouth. 

“Got carried away. Sue me.” His voice is a low murmur. 

Cupping his cheek, you skate your thumb along the bone. He’s so gorgeous, gold-toned in the nighttime light. Your fingertips brush the moles on his cheek as Steve kisses you again; beneath the musk of you on his tongue, you can still taste the lingering whiskey notes from your night out.

Pulled right up against him, you feel the hard and soft of Steve’s body, the fur of his chest and thighs. He found two grey hairs on his chest earlier in the year which almost caused an existential crisis - only solved with your tweezers and a tonne of kisses and promises that you would still adore him when every hair on his body was shiny silver. 

“You wanna be on your back or front?” he asks, squeezing your side.

The question makes that inferno in your tummy begin to burn hotter again. You think of how good it feels when he’s behind you, thighs slapping against the back of your own, the way he stretches you and hits that place deep inside. And yet, you need to see him tonight - you are so dreamily in love with him that not having his lips on yours might just make you expire. 

“Back. Pass me that cushion?” 

As you get comfy, Steve takes himself in hand again and settles himself between your legs. His non-busy hand runs through his hair - still a glorious mane into his thirties, despite a few shorter cuts over the years - and you are reminded of the pretty-boy you fell for almost a decade ago.

Steve catches you smiling and palms your leg as you settle on either side of his hips. He matches the little grin and dips forward to kiss you, nuzzling your noses together. 

“What’s got you smilin’ like that, huh?” he asks, running the head of his cock through your wetness before tapping it at the top. 

He watches your lashes flutter, the way you bite your lip. 

“Just thinkin’ about you, handsome,” you murmur, “You always make me smile.” 

He grins and kisses you again, both feeling like young loves again despite the aches and pains and the mortgage and the two kids sleeping down the hall. “I fuckin’ love you,” Steve whispers. 

“I love you,” you murmur back, running your fingers into your love’s hair as the other hand grabs his wrist. “Please? Been waiting all night, Stevie…”

His lips melt the put-on pout and together you guide him inside. The stretch of him has got easier over the years, well practised at love-making and fucking like rabbits alike. He’s gentle when he needs to be, rougher when you both want it like that. 

“I’ve got you, baby. Sorry for making my girl wait,” he murmurs as he slides all the way in.

Eyes fluttering closed at the stretch-and-fill, Steve starts off with a slow grind that makes your jaw drop. He murmurs quiet swears at how warm-wet you feel around him, squeezing him tight as his hips draw halfway back before going all the way in again. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, and braces one hand by your head with the other splayed wide on your side. Your hips lift with him, legs propped high to open you up wider for him. 

For a scant second, you want to ask if his back hurts - he pulled something at basketball drills last week and you had massaged on Tiger Balm morning and night for a few days until the twinging stopped. The hard flick of his hips makes the question vanish from your mind, his cock dragging and hitting just right. 

“Oh god,” you whisper-gasp, jaw hanging open.

“I know, baby. M’sorry it’s been so long. M’a bad husband, huh? Leaving my poor wife needy and un-fucked.” His voice is hot and rough against your cheek, breath tickling your ear as he finds his rhythm. “Gonna make it up to you, yeah?” 

You squeeze the back of his neck, giggling. “Make it up to me all you want.” He palms over your hip, hiking it higher before leaning over you again. “Fuck, Steve. Feels so good.”

Your eyes dip to the gold chain hanging around his neck, watching how it sways in rhythm to how he’s fucking you. You bring your hand to where it rests against his neck, guiding Steve’s mouth to yours again. His breath huffs hot against your lips, tongues sliding in a dirty kiss. 

The wet click of parting lips sounds loud in Steve’s ears when you break away, moaning his name against his chin when his thrusts hit deeper, harder. 

“Shhh, I know you wanna be loud, sweetheart. I know you feel good.” His voice is like lava dripping as he kisses your neck. 

You pinch your lips together, the moan caught in your throat comes out as a high hum. 

Steve is so hard. His pants felt too tight all night; half hard since he saw you in your little pink dress. It only got worse, harder not to ask you to meet him in the bathroom, when you sat on his lap and toyed with the back of his hair, whispered in his ear before slipping into conversation with Nancy about something totally different. 

The slick-tight-hot feeling, the way you pulse around his cock, makes that tense coil of pleasure low in his gut wind tighter. His chest feels like 

You can’t help but fall a little more in love with him, hypnotised by the swinging gold chain, the circles he rubs against your hip and the way his styled hair falls over his forehead.

Squeezing your thighs around him, you bring your legs up and tilt your hips higher. Steve adjusts the stance of his knees and slows his thrusts to a deep grind, the tip of him brushing your cervix. You can feel all of him pressed right up against you, inside and out. 

“Oh fuck.. fuck, Steve.” Your voice is thin and strained, like a thread about to snap. 

“Yeah, baby. I’ve got you,” he whispers, biting down on his own lower lip. “God, you’re so pretty. So sexy.” 

The air in your bedroom feels humid and heavy, like a thunderstorm, waiting for lightning to crack and split the sky, waiting for a downpour. 

Steve moves his hand from your hip, gliding over your pelvis to feel how he makes you bulge just a bit before his fingers begin circling your sticky-damp clit. Just quick enough, firm enough, mean enough. 

Your back arches, quiet voice babbling with incoherence at how intense it feels. “I’mgonnacomeohgodstevestevefuck…”

“Come on baby, come for me. Let me feel it,” he pants, hitting deep and hard. He’s so close, barely holding on to himself. 

You hold him tight to you as you come, fingers tugging in his hair as the other hand claws and digs into the meat at the top of his ass. 

Overwhelmed, a sweet shock of release hits you like lightning and opens the floodgates. 

Steve holds you just as close, anchored to each other. Whispering hot words of praise against your mouth, he gazes into your watery eyes sparkling with tears - he makes you feel that good. 

“Oh baby, I’ve got you. You okay?” he asks, so tender. He leans over you, wrapping his arm beneath your lower back as the other braces his weight along his forearm. One huge hand cups your face and wipes your tears. There’s mascara smudged beneath your eyes, and you look beautiful. 

There’s that smile he loves; wobbly and lovely. A giggle-sob bubbles from those sweet kiss-bitten lips. “Fuck, Steve..” 

“I know, sweetheart. I know. Want me to pull out, is it too much?” 

You shake your head against the duvet, your hair a mess. “No, no. Don’t... Wanna feel you.” Your voice is slurred, love drunk. 

That makes him throb. He kisses you again and runs his nose along yours. “M’close,” he whispers, beginning a slow-dragging thrust inside your soaked and still-fluttering body. 

You can see it, how close he is, and feel it in how his rhythm has faltered. His brows pinch, smearing wet kisses to your shoulder as he tucks his face into your neck. 

“I’ve got you, Stevie. You’re so good,” you whisper, stroking the back of his neck. “Let go, baby. I’ve got you.” 

A grunting groan is smothered against your shoulder as Steve stills and shudders on top of you. His hips pump slow and hard as he comes inside with your name on his lips, making you shiver too. 

His weight settles, sinking you into the mattress in the best way. This is exactly what you had missed so much. As much as you fervently adore actually having sex with Steve Harrington, there is something so special about lying with him in the afterglow. 

Sweat-sticky and breathless, you stroke through his hair and press your lips into his hair. The hairspray scent lingers, clinging to the scent of shampoo beneath the smoke from cigarettes bummed from his bad-influence-best-friend Eddie. There was something about the smoke-tinged kisses that made you feel extra feral for him on the way home. 

“Don’t fall asleep on me,” you whisper, laughing softly when his sigh tickles your neck. 

“But you’re so comfortable.” 

Lifting his head, Steve smiles all pink-cheeked and dozy. “So beautiful too,” he murmurs, inching forward to kiss you. 

The wet noise from below makes you both laugh like teenagers and you take your turn to hide your face. 

“You take your birth control today?” he asked, easing himself up and out of you slowly, carefully. His eyes can’t look away from where he drips from you. 

“Mhm. Sorry, big boy.” You grab a tissue from the bedside table, wiping yourself gently before you mess up the duvet cover. You had both agreed, after having Ava, to wait a few years before adding to your nest again - it had been Steve’s idea after your less-than-easy second pregnancy. For a man with a bit of a breeding kink and a dream of a family the size of a field hockey team, he was wonderfully considerate. 

He kisses you again before standing to find his pyjama pants; he leaves out one of his sweaters and a pair of shorts for you too - sleeping naked was a dangerous game with two small kids. 

Clean-faced and exhausted and happy, you curl up together in bed after a few sleepy kisses and a playful argument about who would get up with Ava in the morning. As if Steve would ever miss a chance to let you sleep and steal the morning smiles from your youngest all for himself.

“You won’t even hear me sneak. M’a ninja,” he murmurs tiredly against the back of your neck and you can feel his smile. 

“If you say so, ninja boy,” you mumble back, dragging your joined hands up for one more kiss before slipping into a deep, peaceful slumber.

Sunday. Halloween. The best day of the year for your little girls - since the last best day (their Daddy’s birthday in late July). 

Ever a fan of Halloween, and autumn in general, you always wanted to bring your girls up to be excited for Halloween as soon as September began. Still so little, with Play-Dough minds, they had begun to catch on to your excitement and followed soaked it up. Beth especially, four with an expansive imagination, was excited about dressing up and eating candy and watching “Hogus Pogus” with you after dinner. 

Your parental body clocks ring at seven despite the late night. 

You wake to Steve creeping out, blindly bumping into the dresser with a quiet ‘shit’ as Ava calls out for him. This morning his presence was required to brush fat tears from the little one’s pink cheeks and kiss the damp paths they left behind until she was smiling again. 

You hear the youngest babbling as Steve carries her quietly downstairs, hoping she won’t wake you or Beth. The throb of a minor hangover and post-sex ache drags you back under the covers and into a light doze. 

You have another thirty minutes and some change until Beth wakes and realises she misses you, deciding to sneak in before even letting her Dad know she was awake - she wanted to see you hear about your Halloween party with her uncle and aunties and remind you that the best day had finally arrived.

The creaky hinge on the door alerts you - a reminder to ask Steve to show you how to oil it properly this time - you peek an eye open to watch the four-year-old sneak over to stand by the bed on her Dad’s side. She would be content enough with just seeing you, comforted in the knowledge that you were home to spend the day together; her face lights up when she spies you peeking over Steve’s pillow, your hand raised in a little wave. 

“Hi Mommy,” she whispers, dimples showing her delight. 

“Hi Bethie,” you whisper back, beckoning her into Steve’s vacant spot next to you. 

You open the covers to let your big girl in. She folds herself into you for a hug, her head against your chest. 

“I missed you. I missed you sooooo much,” she says, face turned up to look at you like she is a sunflower and you’re the sun. 

“I missed you too, baby.” Her little face cupped in one hand, you press kisses to her forehead and cheeks, her little nose. 

You make a tent big enough for two beneath the covers, lying on your sides facing each other until your giggling makes it too warm and your tummies rumble for the special Halloween breakfast you promise. (You curse yourself a little for that last glass of wine, trying to remember what exactly you had promised until Beth reminds you about the pumpkin-shaped pancakes). 

Wrapped in your soft dressing gown, you follow Beth down the stairs, hearing Ava’s happy-baby babble in the kitchen as she eats her half-banana breakfast appetizer. The decorations look a little silly and rough around the edges in the morning light, but still, your little home feels like a perfect pocket of happiness.

Beth jumps into the kitchen with an excited-but-not-very-spooky ‘BOO!’ for Steve. 

When she sees him, nursing coffee and Advil with a messy bedhead and tired smile, he quickly becomes Beth’s golden light source as her beaming face turns to him. 

“Woah! You scared me!” he says, clutching his heart before dipping to scoop her up. 

You try not to laugh at his Dad-groan and the cracking crunch of his knees as he stands, instead shuffling in your slippers to Ava in her highchair. 

Her hands bash on the tray, smushing banana with fierce excitement as you peck kisses all over her pretty cherubic face. 

Beth leans her head against Steve, playing with the string of his hastily thrown-on hoodie as she tells him about the dream she had and how he has to take lots of pictures of her costume later to send to your extended family. 

Spotting his bare feet on the kitchen tiles, you slip into the laundry room to find a pair of socks for him to wear. Resistant to ‘old man slippers’, you tuck them into his front pocket as you peck his lips and move him and Beth away from the counter so you can start on breakfast. You steal a sip of his coffee, wrinkling your nose at the lack of sweetness before shooing him and Beth to sit with Ava at the table. 

“What was Uncle Teddy dressed as?” Beth asks, head against Steve’s chest so she looks at him upside down. 

“He was a vampire. But he just wore his normal clothes and some silly teeth.” Steve rolled his eyes dramatically - he had seen vampire Eddie all the way back in high school when he was dealing instead of drinking, and again when you all used to drink and party the night away in your early twenties. Yeah you had dressed as Baby and Johnny before, but you had all boo’ed at Eddie when he showed up in the ultimate low-effort costume. 

“Oh. Okay. Vampires is sca’wry though, Daddy!” Beth reminds him. “You and Mommy didn’t go as scar'wies. What about Bobin?” 

You laugh quietly at the nickname Robin has had since Beth started speaking, and her simple way of humbling Steve about his own costume (and yours). 

“Robin dressed up as Elton John. You know the song you like, Benny & the Jets? She dressed up as the guy who sings that song. And Can You Feel The Love Tonight. He sings that too.” Steve is a wee bit distracted, nibbling the chunk of crushed banana offered from Ava’s fist.

“Bobin was Simba?” Beth’s eyes are wide, excited. She doesn’t seem bothered about her lack of scary costume, only yours.

“No babe. Elton John, he’s a singer. She had big glasses on and a sparkly jacket. You know he sings... Um. ‘Rocketmaaan, burning up his fuel out there alone..’ you like that one. I’ll find the tape later.”

Ava squeals in delight when he sings, so Steve indulges her a little more.

As you mix up pancake batter (adding a little food colouring to make them orange like pumpkins), and take two Advil for the dull throb in your head, the soundtrack of Beth and Steve’s conversation makes you smile, interspersed with Ava’s chirpy shouts for attention, her little contributions to the conversation. 

You glance back at the little tableau of Beth on Steve’s lap, his hood pulled over his messy hair (a pair of sunglasses and he would look just the same as your hungover mornings in your first apartment together). His spare hand strokes Ava’s hair, twirling the crushed baby-curls at the back of her head and tickling her chin and neck to make her giggle. 

Beth joins you after a little while, standing on a chair to help mix the batter and supervise your pancake-making with little bits of commentary. 

“That one looks a w’ittle bit squished, Mommy. Daddy can have that one.” 

“Thanks, Beth.” Steve’s voice is muffled behind his second cup of coffee. 

“Welcome Daddy! Mommy, can I has that nice stuff on?” 

“On what, sweets?”

“My pancakes.” You can hear her eye roll, the implied ‘duh, mom’ (thanks Auntie Max). 

“The nice stuff? Syrup?” 

“Yeah! Sir-yup.”

“Yeah okay. A little bit.” You flip another pancake, turning the chocolate chip face down onto the heated pan. “Do you want bacon on the same plate or on the side?”

“Um. Can I dip it?” 

“In the syrup?” 

“Yeah, in that nice stuff.”

“Yeah, you can try dipping it. Who taught you that?”

“Teddy.”

You smirk, “Steve, did you hear that? Betty’s taking after her Uncle’s eating habits.” 

“Which one?” 

“Ed. She’s gonna dip her bacon in syrup.” 

“That’s my girl.”

Beth giggles and turns carefully on the chair to look at him. “No Daddy, you does it all over! You got to dip-dip.” 

“Can you show me how?” Steve asks, he smiles over at her, looking so handsome with the baby standing in his lap now. 

“Magic word?” 

You snort-laugh, tucking your chin to your chest as your shoulders shake; you just about slide the pancake onto a plate without incident. Beth has one hand on her hip, a mini-Steve for sure, giving as good as she gets.

“Are you practising your magic for later?”

“Nooo Daddy. You has to say p’weeeeeeze-uhhh.”

“Okay-uhhhh. Please, pretty princess Bethany, can you show me how to dip my bacon in syrup?”

Bethany considers it and looks at you with a cheeky smile. “Yep! I show you, Daddy!”

You wink at her before helping her pour more batter onto the hot buttered pan, praising her careful steady hand. 

“Beth, can you grab a bib for Ava please?” You’re almost done and know you’ll get it served up quicker if your helper has a special task. 

“Yes! What colour?” her hot cocoa eyes shine with delight to help as you help her down. 

“Surprise me. We have a Halloweeny one for later, so any one you like for breakfast time okay? Dealer’s choice.” You dot a kiss to her head before watching her scurry to check what colour her sister's sleep-suit is. 

“There’s a laundry basket in the living room, babe. The bibs are on top. Do you need help?” Steve asks her, lifting Ava back into her chair before going to get forks and plates and glasses of juice for the table. 

“No tank you.”

You lean back against Steve’s warm chest and tilt your head for a kiss. “Hi. I missed you.” 

“Missed you more,” he murmurs, squeezing the tender spots on your hips as he kisses you slowly and sweetly. A proper kiss for the morning, tasting of coffee and shared banana and sneaked chocolate chips. 

Your fingers brush his jaw, feeling stubble beneath soft fingertips. He won’t shave today, you hope he’ll string it out a couple of days into the work week. 

After another hip-squeeze, he picks out cutlery and you notice how he squints into the drawer. 

“Glasses.”

“Getting them next, chef.”

“No, your glasses Stevie. You’ll get a headache.” 

“I have a headache. I’m blaming Rob for it.”

“It’ll get worse if you don’t put your glasses on, babe.”

You watch him mimicking your correctness with a scrunched nose as he picks out forks and knives. He knows you’re right but he doesn’t have to like it.

Steve gathers everything for breakfast, including Beth’s syrup. 

“I’ll get them in a sec,” he murmurs behind you, waiting for Beth to return with a bib first. 

You smile to yourself and start plating up. 

“Beth, how are we doing on the bib?”

When he looks into the living room, Steve sees Beth with every clean bib around her as she decides. 

“I can’t find one to match!” Beth’s face is a scowl.

“Babe, it doesn’t need to match. Just pick. Please.” Steve tries to be patient. Ava is getting impatient without food or distractions in the kitchen and he hears you chatter to her to try and help. He’s usually good at the diffuse and distract technique, a pro after quasi-parenting more than half a dozen teenagers.

“Can we do a-a spooky one?”

“Um. Sure. This one is kinda autumny?” He holds up the orange and yellow floral one, tiny flowers and green leaves. 

“But Ava’s jammies is pink Daddy! It doesn’t go! It has to be spooky and match!” Beth’s voice turns whiney, a pout on her face. 

Steve pops his head back into the kitchen where Ava is entirely unimpressed with being ignored as you bring over the plates. “Beth would really like it if Ava could have a Halloween bib now, and if it matched her pjs too…”

You watch him suppressing an eye-roll, knowing it would just hurt his head. He looks exactly like Beth. 

“Um, check the laundry room? I left a couple out.” You peek around Steve and see Beth with all of the bibs around her. “Sorry, I should’ve just told her to check in there.” 

“No, it’s fine. Beth, pick those up please and come wash your hands.” 

Steve smooches Ava’s cheek as he passes and palms your side with a squeeze. He picks up a purple bib with bats and a white one with ghosts - he is hopeful that one will suit Beth’s specifications and taste.  He has this Dad thing down to a fine art.

The bigger girl has clean and almost dry hands, pyjama sleeves rolled up her arms by your gentle mom-touch. Her face splits into a grin when Steve presents the choices.

“Yes! The pur-pellll!” she squeaks, bouncing on her feet. 

He dips to pick her up, barely suppressing the dad-groan - but it’s quieter than last time. “My little fashionista, huh? Everything’s gotta match?” He pecks her nose, making it scrunch like a bunny’s. 

When Ava’s got her bib on, distracted by cut-up pumpkin-shaped pancakes and berries (with one slice of bacon), Beth sits in her seat at the table in awe of the jack-o-lantern faces you have created. 

“Spooky enough, babe?” You sip maple-sweetened coffee and smile at her little happy face. 

Her hair is spilling over from her messy bedtime ponytail, which comes more loose as she nods furiously. “So cool! Tank you Mommy!”

“Super cool,” Steve agrees, winking at you across the table. “Thanks, baby.”

You’re just as sexy to him now, as you were last night with your messy hair and the well-loved teddy-print dressing gown. He notices his glasses case by his coffee and you wink back at him over the top of your mug.

With his world more in focus, Steve watches you smile at Ava as she shows you her chunk of pancake. You kiss her cheek, nuzzle into her milk-and-honey scented neck telling her you love her. 

You feel like the littlest one hasn’t had your full attention this morning and you have missed her, feeling mom-guilt to the hilt. Steve will take on dish-duty once the plates are empty and bellies are full, giving you time with your girls. 

There are a few last-minute decorations and chores you want to make time for in between kid-friendly movies, dressing the girls in their costumes - Beth as a tiny cute witch and  Ava as a cosy pumpkin. The girls are your number one priority today, making core memories for them and taking one hundred and one photos for the albums. Ava is still too little to really soak it in but she takes enough notice to nourish her little mind. 

You and Steve will fill out the candy for trick-or-treaters, and hold little hands when the girls go door to door in your own cul de sac. When they’re tucked up in bed, you will pick through the candy leftovers and curl up to watch one scary film followed by a non-scary one as a balm before you sleep. 

For now, you sit back and share a loving smile with Steve, your socked feet brushing beneath the breakfast table. 

What a treat. 

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs and comments are absolutely adored and cherished ❤️ 

[misserabella]

sexting with gf! ellie williams!☆ (pt. 3)

pt2!

cw; +18 content! minor dni!, sexting, public space (jesse’s party), usage of drugs (weed), smoking, reader and ellie being horny af, cursing, heavy make-out (semi public space), nipple play, tit sucking, hickeys, teasing, praising, dirty talking, use of pet names instead of y/n, fingering (r receiving), strap on sex, dom! ellie and sub! reader but they are kinda switches at the end, hard sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, oral sex (ellie receiving) not detailed (cliffhanger😋)…

me after writing this;🤕😵‍💫😩

it was friday night. and as every friday uni night, jesse had decided to throw a party at his huge house since his parents had left for the weekend on a business trip.

you were sitting with dina, chatting up as you two smoked down a blunt with him, but you couldn’t keep your eyes off of ellie, who sat in front of you on the other sofa, dealing some weed. it was something she would do every now and then to get some money. she always spend too much on you and your little dates. but you couldn’t love her anymore for it. last month she had payed you a week on a hotel near the beach. you had really made it up to her that night after a swim in the pool on your littlest bikini.

she was wearing his grew hoodie, the one you always borrowed from her since it smelled like her, and a pair of baggy jeans with a pair of converse. her hair was half up and half down in a messy bun, and her hands were adorned in rings. you could see the one you had bought her sitting on her ring finger, the silver shining against her skin. she looked so hot. even more when she’d shift just the slightest and you could see a little bulge on her thigh under her jeans; the shadow of the strap she had worn tonight. you knew she has done it to tease you. to turn you on. and fuck if it was working…

els

her reddish eyes fell on her phone when she received your message. she looked at you for just a second, smiling at you.

hey pretty girl

what’s up baby? having fun?

yeah, kinda missing you though

she chuckled, shaking her head.

missing me? i’m in front of you babe

exactly. why aren’t you on top of me?

you smirked when you saw her eyes widen just the slightest, her eyes scanning the room to make sure no one was staring at her phone. no one was. and they were too drunk or high out of their minds to even care.

shit princess

you feeling a lil needy baby?

you bit down on your lip, and she huffed.

you bit down on your lip while i’m talking to you again i’ll fuck you so hard you’ll cry

your cheeks burned and your thighs pressed against the other. you thanked god dina was too busy making out with jesse to notice the way you trembled.

i’d let you

fuck, i bet you would

ellie’s jaw tightened, and your pussy throbbed.

yeah… i’m so wet right now, can’t stop looking at your strap

ellie smirked.

you like it baby? it’s your favorite

that one that makes you cum like crazy

your breath hitched. you knew which one she meant. it was long, and purple, and was detailed at the tip and the base, where some veins popped out. you remembered the first time you two had used it and how much you had ended up squirting that night. the length of it had you seeing stars. every new harsh thrust abused you g spot and made you whimper over and over again. it drove ellie crazy.

i still remember how good you looked riding it for me baby, taking my cock so deep and nice like the good girl you are.

i remember it too

felt so good

your dick always feels so good…

i bet it does, huh? you’re always so loud for me

want it inside els

you want it inside, baby? want me to fuck it inside that little pussy of yours?

your panties were so wet…

yes els please

come here first baby, let me give you a kiss.

you were quick to sit up, her emerald eyes taking in your appearance and tight red dress. you looked like a fucking dream and she wanted to hear you moan so bad…

she patted her lap, and your cheeks reddened as you looked around. the music was loud, and the stoners room was actually pretty chill and empty. most people were at the salon dancing. you let out a little scream when you felt a pair of warm and strong hands grabbing at your hips and pulling you down. you landed on ellie’s lap, and an inaudible soft moan left your mouth when your clothed cunt made contact with her strap under her jeans.

“much better…” she smirked, her hands now on your ass. “now. why don’t you open your mouth for me doll?” she inquired as she leaned in, and your eyes fell to her lips. you hummed when her tongue pushed in between your parted ones, deeply kissing you. your hands creeped up to her hair, and shit, if you weren’t in public, you’d grind down on her to try and get some friction, ‘cause you were aching and needed her so much you felt like dying… “calm down baby, not going anywhere.” she teased you, pulling away when she felt just how needily you were kissing her back, how your whole body was shaking on top of her. “i’m all yours.” she whispered against your lips before kissing you again, and this time she kissed you with the same intensity, pushing you down on her strap and making you whimper on her mouth. her stomach was knotting, and she felt that if she didn’t fuck you she’d go completely insane. “let’s go up, hm?” she inquired, and with hazy eyes, you nodded, letting her get you off of her lap and guide you upstairs with her hand on yours.

one of the free rooms was locked behind your back, and quickly she was pressing you against the door and kissing your neck, her hands reaching down to the rim of your dress to pull it upwards.

you moaned and she groaned when one of her hands cupped your clothed cunt, panties all soaked and thighs covered in slick.

“fuck.”

“ellie…” you whimpered.

“you’re so fucking wet baby…” she muttered, kissing you hard. your breath got punched out of your lungs when she raised you in between her arms and took you to the bed, crushing you under her weight. this. this was it. this is what you needed.

“please els… need you.” you whined, letting her strip you out of your dress, your chest now completely exposed to her hungry eyes. her touch was rough on your tits, pinching your nipples.

you were letting out this little sweet sounds that were making her impossibly horny. shit. you were perfect.

“i know baby, i know…” she cooed, pulling down her pants and stripping out of her hoodie to push your panties aside to take a look at your soaking cunt. your eyes fell on her huge strap, although your breath hitched when her fingers teased your folds and slick. “poor little thing just needs a good fuck, isn’t that right angel?” your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your back arched as you let out a loud moan when two of her fingers easily plunged inside, stretching you out. “that’s it. just needed something to keep her all nice and full…” your hands gripped the sheets underneath you as she started to fuck you with them. “atta girl, taking my fingers so good…” you gasped as her fingers curled and her thumb pressed against your puffy rosy clit.

“ellie, fuck!” you screamed. she always knew how to make you feel so good…

“so fucking loud…” she cursed. “haven’t even dicked you down and you’re already fucking crying.” she shook her head with a smirk when she saw the tears of pleasure reaming your eyes.

you whimpered, and she grunted, pulling her fingers out and and pulling from your hips to drag you closer. your thighs shook when you felt the tip of her strap tease your folds, lubing itself up.

your back arched and your jaw hanged loose when she started to push in, inch by inch of her cock filling your pussy. “you just love getting fucked, don’t you? my pretty girl always looking so beautiful taking me so deep inside her cunt…” she groaned and you whimpered when —even if she hadn’t finished filling you up— she tried to pull back. “fuck baby, you’re sucking me right back in.”

“don’t pull out.” you cried out, but she cooed.

“you know we need to go slow with this one baby, don’t want to hurt you…” you moaned when she thrusted back in, this time a little deeper than last time. “that’s it. nice and slow. gotta warm you up for my cock doll.”

you could hear the embarrassing wet sounds your pussy was making as you took her inside. you couldn’t help but flush all the way down to your chest. fuck. you were so fucking horny. it almost hurt.

“so wet… look at that.” she muttered more to herself than you, eyes on your cunt swallowing the strap.

one more thrust, there were only a couple of inches left to go.

“ellie…” you moaned as she started to get rougher, starting to pull from you onto her dick harder. “please… i can take it. i promise. please, ellie, please…” you babbled out, needing her to fuck you stupid. maybe she already was.

“so needy…” she grunted, and with a harsh snap, she buried herself inside you to the base. you swore you could see spots as the tip crushed your g spot, making you clench down around the strap. “shit, you’re squeezing my cock, baby.” she groaned as she started to fuck into you, each thrust quicker and harder.

“ellie!” you screamed, your moans getting cut with every snap of her hips. she too was moaning, low and heavy. you looked so good with your makeup now starting to get fucked up, marks on your neck and tits bouncing up and down… she couldn’t help but suck on them as the strap started to rub her clit, making her fuck you in need of her own release.

“fuck baby. doing so good for me. looking like a fucking angel while i’m so deep inside you…” tears were rolling down your cheeks, mascara staining your skin.

“i’m gonna cum…” you whimpered, feeling the knot on your stomach growing tighter and tighter. shit, she was fucking your brains out.

“yeah baby? you gonna cum on my cock?” you screamed when her fingers met your clit, rubbing it just the perfect way to have you trembling underneath her and falling apart, gushing all over the strap as your moans got louder and louder. ellie thanked god the music was loud as fuck, ‘cause she’d surely kill anyone who’d ever get to hear you like this. see you like this. you were hers. the hickeys on your neck were a proof of that, and she’d make sure to ruin you for anyone else. “atta girl. fuck. that’s it baby, keep cumming for me, you look so beautiful when you cum…” your ears were ringing and your vision was rimmed in black, the pleasure on your body being to much. and it only seemed to grow, and grow, and…

“ellie, i’m gonna… i’m gonna…!” before you could even warn her you were squirting all over her thighs, strap and the sheets, your back arching as you let out a broken, low and long moan that had her cumming on her own boxers. and how couldn’t she? fuck. that was the hottest thing she had ever fucking seen. and heard.

she was grunting as she fucked you two through it, the wet squelches of your cunt swallowing her cock making you feel dizzy and light headed.

when she finally stilled, you whined when she pulled out, but she hushed you with a soft peck on your lips.

“need to clean you up, baby.” she said before leaving the bad and going towards the bathroom to your left. you heard the water running for a moment before she was finally back, holding a wet towel. you hissed and shook when it made contact with your sensitive cunt, even more with your puffy and abused clit. “i know… but you did so good for me baby… took me so good. my good girl…” she praised you, —once she had finished cleaning up the two of you— leaving kisses up from your thighs to your stomach, chest, neck, and finally your lips. you hummed when her tongue entered your mouth, kissing you deep and slow.

you slowly rose yourself, and sat up to kiss her harder, this time pushing her down onto the mattress. her lips were shiny and swollen red when you pulled away, a string of spit connecting your mouth.

your lips next fell onto her jaw, and the on her neck, where you paused for a second, leaving open mouth kisses before sucking on her skin. wanting too to leave your mark behind.

“what are you doing?” she inquired, breathy, almost weak.

“wanna take care of you.” you said as you unclipped the strap and pushed it aside and onto the floor. you couldn’t care less. you’d clean everything later. one of her veiny hands found your hair as you pressed your lips to her sports bra, mouthing at her nipples, which pocked through the material due to her arousal.

you then went lower, onto her toned stomach, and then, your hands were tugging down on her soaked boxers.

your eyes fell on her cunt, sticky with cum, and you felt high.

you looked into her emerald eyes, and her lips curved in a smirk.

“go ahead baby.”

-

a/n; oh god i actually i am happy about the results of my writing in this one for the first time in like… weeks. hope you liked it too<3

xxx

[angelshadowsinger]

Prized Possession

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Azriel x f!reader 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.3k 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐲: fluff!! littlest hint of spice. like a little angst too bc they have a brief fight??? idk

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:

You lose something and Azriel gets it back for you.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞:

im too soft for this pls its too much. i almost made this a smut but i am wholesome and refuse to listen to the little devil on my shoulder. also this is unedited

･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ: ʙʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴇʀᴛɪꜰʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ 18 ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴏʀ. ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ.

･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

The ground shook as the air cleaved and two bodies fell to the floor from the mass of shadow above. A wave of cold river water surged out, slickening the marble tile with a slight greenish tinge. 

You were retching up water on your hands and knees, drenched hair plastered to your face and your neck. A large slice of skin was exposed diagonally across your collar from where the siren had scratched you, a red ring around your wrist quickly turning purple from where it had grabbed you and dragged you under. That was all before Azriel had dove in from the sky, as graceful and lethal as a bullet with his wings tucked tight and limbs flush to his sides. In but a flash of blinding, brilliant blue did he slay the faerie, the life just starting to leave its gaze before firm hands had snatched you and you’d slipped away into the shadows. 

Now the shadowsinger was coughing violently, all the while glaring at you as he braced his scarred hands on his knees, heaved over. His large, dark wings were dripping, a mist showering over you as he shook them free of moisture. You could feel his stony stare fixed on you as the puddle on the floor gradually grew, both your bodies dripping. 

The moment you regained some semblance of control you were up on your feet and jabbing a finger into the male’s broad chest, a vicious growl emitting from your mouth and your eyes ablaze. 

“What the hell is your problem?!”

He had the audacity to look shocked by your outrage, a dark brow scrunching and lips pulling back to snarl something back at you but you were quicker than him.

“I had it, Azriel, what the fuck?” 

“The only thing you had was a watery grave,” he instantly barked back, now standing upright so he loomed over you as usual. 

Somehow he looked even more devastating fully drenched, his clothes sticking to his lean frame, revealing his rippling muscles to you with every movement. His dark locks were pitch black and curling at the tips, heavy, shiny droplets collecting at the very ends. Hazel was lit aglow beneath that darkness, his gaze lit with some unknown wrath that you didn’t quite know how to place. 

It was just plain unfair how good he looked after nearly drowning. 

“Fuck you,” you scoffed, even if he was right. The ache in your lungs remained from your lack of breath, the creature having dragged you underwater so deep that your ears nearly popped with the pressure. 

You turned away from him as your fingers ran over your chest, toward the spot that your necklace usually laid upon. But now there was only a shallow slice where the siren had swiped it from you, and the tattered edges of your top. Tears welled in your eyes at the barren expanse of skin you felt, but you refused to let them fall in front of the shadowsinger, refused to let your anger turn to sorrow before you were in the privacy of your own room. 

“I think gratitude would be more appropriate,” Azriel spoke harshly, still glowering from his position behind you. “You know, for saving your life?” 

You whirled around, fists clenched at your hips. “Would you just shut up!” your hiss morphed into a gasp as you trembled with the effort of curbing the sob that tried to escape. 

The haughty look instantly dropped from Azriel’s face, his eyes flicking over every inch of you to assess you for any sign of physical damage. When all he came up with was the cut on your collar and the bruise around your wrist, his brow furrowed. 

You were shaking, frustration peaking as you ran your fingers through your sopping hair, starting to pace before the male. “I had it, it was right there…” you muttered to yourself, quickly swiping away a rogue tear, praying he hadn’t seen it.

The shadowsinger remained rooted where he stood, watching your display of upset with quiet intensity. After you had paced for a minute, he finally asked, “You had… what?” 

His voice was deep as it sliced the silence in the room. The chill of his chambers was now starting to leech into your bones, your arms crossing over your soaked midsection.

You pinched the spot between your brow and nose bridge, willing any nearly-boiling emotions to relax to a simmer, at least while you were still in front of your long-time crush. “Just forget about it…” 

You weren’t looking at him so you didn’t see the way his plush lips pursed. 

“Forget about what?” he pressed. His persistence forced an annoyed sigh from you, and you shot him a quick glare before continuing your pacing. 

“It’s nothing,” you said, trying to shut him down again. You didn’t know why enlightening him of the true reason you were so upset seemed somehow embarrassing. Maybe it was because the male had never shown profound emotion to you and therefore cueing him in on your own felt… too intimate. 

But Azriel wasn’t having it. 

“If it’s really nothing—”

“You wouldn’t get it.” 

“Try me.” 

You turned again, facing the male before you and gauging his stance. With one look you knew he was not dropping it. Any excuses you would attempt would be futile. 

“It took… my necklace.” 

You held your breath, waiting for him to explode, for him to belittle you and call you stupid and materialistic and any other insult he could produce. But all he did was stand there, and look at you. 

Eventually, he said, “So you’re telling me that you nearly drowned… for some jewelry?” 

Your eyes fell from his to the floor. You knew he wouldn’t understand. 

“Risking your life for such a thing is extremely reckless and I don’t care to entertain it,” he stated, callous. 

“It’s not just some jewelry!” you quipped, standing your ground. You didn’t care if it made you look weak, stupid. Yes, you thought he was cute and funny and usually kind, but this meant a lot to you and you were going to hold your own. 

Azriel sighed, stepping closer to you. “I don’t think you understand the value of your life, or the importance of your existence in others’.” 

You brushed off whatever that meant.

“It’s the only thing I have left from my mother,” you finally revealed, the words fading softer toward the end. You regretted it immediately, but you knew from the emotion that flashed in his eyes that he had heard it, and there was no taking it back now. 

You had never mentioned her to him before, only the fact that she was dead and had been for a long time. And Azriel hadn’t pushed, so you hadn’t felt the desire to give any further detail. 

But now he was looking at you with some sentiment you couldn’t quite place. It seemed like… maybe it was… empathy. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

You were surprised by his immediate apology, hadn’t expected it. A somber smile graced your lips and you nodded, gaze drifting down to your feet again, turning to head back to your room to wallow in self-pity. “It’s okay, it’s just a necklace.” 

Three steps into your retreat Azriel cleared his throat. 

When you turned to look at him he was still standing there, but he now had a little smirk on his lips as he held out a clenched fist. He released his grip and out dropped a small, silver-laced heart pendant, the chain bouncing from its coil around his fingers. 

“You mean this necklace?” 

Your breath was genuinely sucked out from your lungs, your eyes tearing up as you blinked furiously, unsure if he was really holding your most prized possession. 

“Az,” you blubbered, choked up and your lip quivering. “That’s…” Two slow steps and then you were flying into his arms, your limbs wrapping around his torso as you clung to him and laughed. 

Azriel stumbled back just slightly, unprepared for your abrupt launch into his embrace. But he quickly recovered, his free arm wrapping around you so your bottom was secured by his elbow, his hand at your waist. He chuckled as you squeezed him, fingers reaching out to stroke the pendant that now lay in his open palm, to make sure it was really here and you hadn’t lost it. Your longtime crush had saved you and somehow managed to sneakily grab your necklace at the same time. 

“Thank you,” you sniffed, tears welling up with relief, “thank you, thank you so much, thank you Az.” You whispered it over and over, tucking your face in against his neck, breathing in that soothing cool cedar scent you loved so much. 

The shadowsinger was blushing with your proximity and your praise, near giddy from your outright gratefulness. He allowed himself to nuzzle your ear just once, not wanting to toe the line. “Of course, sweetheart… anything for you.” 

You sat back so you could look at him, your beaming smile reaching your eyes. Azriel couldn’t help but grin back at you. 

“I can’t believe you got it! You’re the best, Az!” you cheered, fingers now resting on his palm, pleased to find the necklace was indeed there and not lost at the bottom of the river. 

The Illyrian was basically looking at you with heart-eyes now, not used to such overt flattery. You wiggled in his grasp, totally overjoyed. The display of your content was making his heart feel funny, his icy exterior completely melting for you. 

“I’m so happy right now, I could just—” 

You planted your mouth on his, hands coming to cup his strong jaw and hold his face flush to yours.

Azriel went stiff, his eyes widening as his grip on you became steel. But you were undeterred, pulling back to plant a few more swift, equally-firm kisses on his lips and then across his hot cheeks and nose. 

When you pulled back, Azriel was gaping at you, lips now parted and his cheeks and the tips of his ears a soft, warm pink. Your smile faded as you took in his expression, settling into the knowledge that you’d just assaulted him with a barrage of kisses. 

“Shit— I— I’m sorry Az,” you laughed, embarrassment creeping up the back of your neck. “I just— got a bit excited, I guess.”

You shifted so he would let you down but he refused to budge, arm taut around you. His wings were held high and tight behind him, still buffering as he tried to process what you had just done. 

Your cheeks were becoming the same shade as his now, and you swallowed, uncomfortable under his intense stare. You weren’t accustomed to being able to look him head-on like this; he usually towered over you. He was so handsome up close, it made your heart drop into your stomach at the thought that you had just kissed him. About ten times, give or take. 

It seemed like an eternity had passed before the shadowsinger finally blinked and closed his mouth, his eyes falling to linger on your lips. You felt aflame as you watched his tongue dart out, tasting the spot your lips had just claimed. “That’s alright,” he murmured, the hand that was holding the necklace coming to tuck your wet hair behind your ear, fingertips gliding down your jaw, leaving you wanting more. “Seems like a worthy reward for returning your most prized possession to you.”

Then he was setting you down, your ankles suddenly weak as your feet touched the ground. 

“Allow me,” he said and gently placed his hand on your hip, turning you away from him. 

You held your breath as the rough pads of his fingers coasted up your shoulder, the familiar weight of your mother’s pendant heavy against your rapidly-beating chest while he secured the clasp. You tried to calm yourself down but it wasn’t happening, your body leaning back against him on its own. 

Azriel hissed lowly, firm hands grasping the back of your forearms and holding you out, far from where your back had grazed him. “Careful— you’re not the only one excited here.”

Your face burned and your core stirred at the same time. 

“Sorry…” you whispered meekly. 

He sighed a soft laugh, one hand rubbing your arm. “It’s alright. You go and run a hot bath, you’re drenched and I can hear your teeth rattling from here.” 

You turned and smiled smally, grateful he was offering you an escape. You took extra care in keeping your eyes locked with his, no matter how bad you wanted to look down and see just how excited he was. “Thank you again, Az. You have no idea how much this means to me.” 

And with that, you slipped from his chambers, the sound of your wet feet pattering down the hallway. 

Azriel watched the spot where you had disappeared around his door, his shadows now surging out and dancing around him with glee, flickering across his mouth to get a taste of you. He didn’t care that he was still dripping wet as he flopped back onto his bed, his fingers coming to trace his lips. He recalled how your mouth felt on him, closing his eyes as he tried to preserve the feeling as best he could. 

“No sweetheart,” he spoke to no one in particular, a confession only the stars in the sky would hear, “you’ve no idea how much you mean to me.”

･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

[730architect]

picture your face - L4B (1.1)

first real tumblr post um hi?? anyways i posted this fic on ao3 last month and it did pretty well so i decided to post it on here as well! so hi if you know me from there or from twt :)

part 2

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wc: 2.4k

tags: 18+ MDNI!! liv4brutality, masturbation, hatred, conflicted feelings, liv lowkey hates dominik (yay), callbacks to l4b (2022), liv is still hopelessly in love with rhea but we knew this, light heterosexual couple jumpscares sorry....

── •✧• ──

I had to go into the other room, she sent me something and I can’t think about anything else…

Liv walked confidently to the back after successfully winning a dark match on tonight’s SmackDown, a match she had won with ease. Ease, which really meant continuous interference from her boyfriend, Dominik Mysterio. She cradled her precious championship in her arms as she pointed and laughed in the faces of the fans booing her on her way out. She was on top of the world and there was no woman on the entire roster, on the entire planet for that matter, who could knock her off of her pedestal.

Each victory was sweeter than the last, further cementing her as the greatest women’s world champion of all time, as she so eloquently called herself. She and Dominik were all smiles as they walked through the curtain arm in arm celebrating the champion’s win. However Liv’s smile faded quickly the second they made it back to gorilla, dropping her hand from his.

“You okay, mi güerita?” Dominik asks, immediately noticing her instant lack of affection which had caught him off guard.

“Fine, just a little tired.” Liv replies with a strained smile, attempting to save face. Dominik returned her smile with a bright one of his own, oblivious to her strange behavior.

The truth was, dating Dominik wasn’t all she had imagined it would be. Sure, in the beginning it was sort of fun. But that was due to the fact that Liv had finally gotten the ultimate revenge on the woman who had ruined her life while the whole world watched. She did exactly what she vowed she would do: take everything from Rhea Ripley until she was left with nothing but her shitty shoulder and her own misery.

Unfortunately for Liv, it was obvious that Dominik liked her far more than she liked him; which she took full responsibility for. Her conversations with Finn always seemed to be over the same matter: her true intentions with Dominik. She was not at all prepared for how needy and affectionate Dom would be, both in private and in public. He constantly needed her attention for even the littlest things.

“Hey Liv, should I wear my white or purple boots for my match later?”

“Liv, do you think I look jacked in this picture?”

His constant neediness was enough to drive any woman insane, Liv was amazed that Rhea was able to stay with him for so long. She couldn’t help but discreetly roll her eyes whenever he called her name before putting on a sickeningly sweet smile paired with a skip in her step as she made her way to him. Why did she feel this way?

She and Dominik are back in their shared hotel room after the show. She finds herself trapped in his arms yet again in bed as he mindlessly scrolls through the TV channels. Liv gets up from the bed, tossing Dominik’s tattooed arm off of her and ignoring his audible confusion, mumbling something along the lines of, “I’m going to the bathroom.”

Picture your face, I wanna touch you but you’re too far away…

Liv locks herself in the bathroom and surveys her surroundings, mind still racing. Her eyes land on the large bathtub and decides a bath would help clear her head. She empties the pockets of her shorts and runs the bath water to her desired temperature while she pours soap into the tub, allowing it to form bubbles as she undresses. She tosses her clothes into a pile in the corner of the bathroom and ties her blonde hair up into a lazy bun at the top of her head, then climbing into the warm and welcoming water as bubbles swirled around her. Liv allows herself to sink down, down, down into the tub until only her head breaks the surface of the foamy water.

She tries to dilute her stress but Rhea continues to ravage her thoughts relentlessly, refusing to provide her with even a second of relief. Liv finds her mind drifting back to 2022, when she and Rhea were tag team partners and the best of friends. How Rhea treated her like the only girl in the world, how she picked her up with ease in ways that Dominik could only dream of. Liv feels a pang in her heart as she relives each sweet memory she and Rhea shared together on their quest for tag team gold. Her wet fingers rise and ghost over her lips where she swears she can still taste the sweetness of Rhea’s cheek that she would kiss after every win or loss. No matter what, they had each other. Until they didn’t.

And maybe Liv was naive for thinking that they would last forever, but how could she not when Rhea treated her like the only girl she would ever have eyes for for as long as she lived? Sometimes she thinks about what their lives would be like if Rhea had never turned her back on her. Would they still be tag team partners or would they have split on good terms? Would they be champions together like they once dreamed? The constant state of wonder she repeatedly finds herself in leaves her head pounding. They once looked at each other with such tenderness but now every glance is filled with pure malice.

Know I shouldn't need it but I want affection, know I shouldn't want it but I need attention

She hears a familiar snore come from the other room and immediately recognizes it as Dominik, which only seems to piss her off even more. Liv’s mind shifts once again, thinking about how her stomach would jolt whenever her eyes met Rhea’s as she stared her down, blue eyes morphing into angry slits every time Rhea saw her. Liv would try and put on a hardened expression of her own but to no avail. She just couldn’t ignore the heat that pooled in the pit of her stomach every time Rhea was near. Her breath on the back of Liv’s neck every time she pinned her down to the mat, seething over how much she fucking hated her. And by god did it turn her on.

Her nimble fingers begin to trail down her still-immersed body, fantasizing about how roughly Rhea would grab her, practically throwing her around like a rag doll if she really wanted to. How her sharp canines would flash through her snarl every time she had Liv backed into a corner. She found herself dismissing the wet spots in her underwear after every interaction with her or even after just stumbling across a post of hers on social media.

Liv grabs her phone from the side of the tub and opens Instagram, switching between accounts. Her wet fingers slowly find the search bar and tap on the last and only searched profile: Rhea’s. Liv couldn’t risk making a wrong move and tapping something she wasn’t meant to on accident, which would end up being the most embarrassing thing that could ever happen to her. She looks through Rhea’s profile for a couple seconds, nearly missing her latest post.

It was a mirror picture taken at the gym, nothing Rhea hasn’t posted about a million times before. But this one nearly had Liv’s world crumbling around her. It wasn’t the photo that mattered, despite how good she looked in it. Muscles bulging and glistening with a light sheen of sweat after what Liv assumed to be an intense arm-day workout. Black tattoo ink decorated her skin, wrapping themselves around her arms and fingers as she held her phone in one hand and flexed the other. But it was the caption that truly caught Liv’s attention.

“rhearipley_wwe watch me 👁️‍🗨️”

Liv sat up straight in the bathtub, nearly spilling water onto the bathroom floor with the speed she moved at. She waits for the anger to hit her but it never does. Instead it’s that same familiar throb in her core which she’s sure is coated in slick and not because of the water she’s sitting in. She stops for a moment to listen to her surroundings, relieved when she still hears Dom’s obnoxious snores through the locked door. She sinks back down into the tub, still staring at the photo, eyes drooping slightly with lust. Her fingers trace incoherent shapes onto the soft skin of her thighs as she separates them, exposing her cunt to her digits. She glides her index finger over her opening, almost slipping it inside due to how wet she is. Rhea may be obsessed but Liv was nothing short of infatuated by her.

Now I'm picturing you and you're touching yourself…

Her fingers slowly begin to circle her clit, spreading her slick over the puffy pearl. Liv sighs softly to herself, eyes fluttering shut for a split second before opening again to marvel at the photo. The caption itself almost seems like a teasing invitation in its own right, enticing Liv to slip a finger inside of herself, quickly replacing one with two and imagining it was Rhea’s inked ones instead. Water sloshed around due to her movements as her back arched slightly off the back of the tub she leaned on. “Shit… Rhea…” she whispers to herself through parted lips, Rhea’s name slipping past them like a prayer. Like she’s repenting, begging some sort of divine power for forgiveness for what she’s done as she does it.

Liv never slows the relentless piston of her fingers, going in and out of her weeping hole. The heel of her palm hits her clit with every thrust at the perfect angle, making her brain short circuit with every motion.

A memory from years ago plays in her mind like a technicolor movie. Liv had made her way to the locker room, calling out Rhea’s name as she glanced left and right for her then partner until she saw her standing at the end of the locker room, back facing her.

“Hey Rhea, I was wondering if you wanted to grab some food before we head back to the hotel or something.” Liv chirped as she walked up to her partner, blissfully unaware that she was stripping herself of her ring gear. Rhea turns around to face Liv, her hands reaching behind her back to unclasp her bralette that made up the top half of her gear.

“Sounds good to me, love. What are you in the mood for?” Rhea asks with a toothy smile, thick accent slicing through the air.

She turns around once again and lets out a relieved sigh when she finally unfastens her top, allowing it to fall off of her and completely expose the top half of her body. Liv’s mouth drops open before she quickly regains her composure, trying her hardest not to gawk at her tag partner’s physique, now having half of it fully exposed to her.

Rhea had less tattoos back then, her body a little leaner as she's put on more muscle since. But regardless of how she looked, Liv always found herself pressing her thighs together whenever she saw her, searching desperately for even the smallest bit of friction to provide herself with some semblance of relief before she could tend to it herself. Rhea turns to the side as she throws on a t-shirt, allowing Liv to catch a glimpse of her plush tits and the piercings that adorned them; along with the massive gargoyle tattoo that sat right underneath. She didn’t feel worthy of seeing her like this, all exposed and vulnerable. She didn’t feel worthy of seeing her at all.

The fingers wrapped around her phone still displaying Rhea’s photo had begun to tremble due to the sensation, liking the photo accidentally in the process. Liv however paid no mind, how could she with how her heart hammered in her chest, blood pounding in her ears, drowning out the sounds of her breathy moans and pathetic whimpers as she imagined Rhea’s expression seeing her like this behind her rolled back eyes. Liv eventually drops her phone back down and paws at her breasts, rolling her nipples between her index finger and thumb as she continues the assault on her pussy with her other hand.

She feels pressure increase just below her pelvis, making the entire lower half of her body feel like it’s about to implode. She slows the speed of her fingers ever so slightly to be able to grind her hips down onto them, allowing them to hit even deeper inside of her which makes her head spin. She feels the pressure increase more and more until she pinches at her nipple right as her fingers curl up slightly inside her, hitting that spot that makes her see stars every time. Liv throws her head back and detonates like a bomb around her digits, Rhea’s face the only thing she could see behind her tightly closed eyelids.

“Rhea… oh my sweet girl, oh my god…” she wept to herself, only then realizing that a few tears had rolled down her face. She slowly pulls her fingers out of her cunt, whining at the sensitivity and emptiness she felt. Liv laps her fingers clean, moaning around them as she envisions they’re Rhea’s she’s sucking off rather than her own.

She lays back and takes some much needed deep breaths with her eyes closed, feeling her heart rate return to a normal speed. She opens her eyes to the sound of her phone going off, notifying her that she’s received a text message. Liv picks her phone up to check who it is only to almost drop it into the water when she does.

It’s an unsaved number she hasn’t texted in years, but the lack of caller ID doesn’t serve any purpose considering it’s the only phone number besides hers that she knows by heart. With shaking fingers, she taps on the notification, opening the messages app. The text contains a single screenshot of someone’s instagram notifications. She taps on it and reads “yaonlylivvonce and 82,385 others liked your photo”.

You’re fucking kidding.

The photo in question is the post of Rhea that Liv had just spent the last half hour jerking it to. She’s stuck, frozen in shock as the now lukewarm water stills around her. She’s snapped out of her trance with another text notification, this time it’s a short sentence.

“I guess you really were watching me”

Shit.

[sheenashifts1217]

PICK A PILE

What to prepare for in your DR…

Take a breath, look at the pictures, simply pick with one you feel most drawn to 💗

Note: these are all for collective so take what resonates, leave behind what does not. For a personal reading, check out my pinned post. All readings are currently $2 off their listed price from now until Nov. 1st.

Pile 1 (cat-o-lantern), Pile 2 (sun and moon), Pile 3 (cookies)

Pile 1

Hello beauties 🫶. Your DR seems to be full of adventures. You may have a superhero or vigilante DR. You spent much of your past fighting and rising to the top. Now it’s time to hit the breaks and relax for a bit. Who are you other than a fighter? It’s time to prepare for love and meaningful relationships. Prepare to open up. It seems that things are starting to slow down in your DR and you may be fighting it, let it happen. Being vulnerable is good, it lets us grow. You don’t have to fight all the time, be prepared to let others in and be loved. You no longer have to struggle. Revel in your abundance.

Possible confirmation signs: dogs, cats, littlest pet shop, purple, mom, fairies, Dress to impress

Pile 2

Hello Angels 😘. You all, similar to pile 1, need to prepare for love. For you all, it’s all about balance. In your current reality, you are in need of reassurance and someone to take care of you. In your DR you have someone taking care of you, but you also take care of them. Don’t allow yourself to become too arrogant with your new power dynamic. Be prepared to be loved in a humbling way. You no longer have to people please. Put yourself out there and be vulnerable with the people you love because they love you too. You can have it all. You may feel like you’re being pulled in a thousand different directions as this energy feels a bit chaotic, but cling to your person. They will be the one to always ground you and clear your sight.

(Channeled this song at 1:11 btw)

Possible signs of confirmation: 111, red, lace, lingerie, four, wood, one direction, “sir”

Pile 3

Hi loves! Your DR has a very excited energy about it. There are a lot of new beginnings coming your way. Some of you have an X-men or Agents of Shield DR. I’m also picking up on a grumpy x sunshine dynamic. As you embark on your journey stay mentally, physically, and emotionally prepared. Your duties can be draining which is why the sunshine energy is so important. You lift others up. When you feel drained, allow yourself to rely on your teammates. That’s why they’re there. You’re a part of a TEAM. You are in this together. Prepare for some type of potential tragedy. I’m also hearing Guardians of the Galaxy, so that could be significant. Many of you cope with humor. While humor is good, make sure to thoroughly grieve and support your emotions. Take time when you need it. Your DR is still a good time despite the tragedies and tad bit of heavy energy. Mainly prepare to care for yourself so that you can enjoy and feel everything.

Possible signs of confirmation: 444, 1234, 5, peach, clouds, “your mom”, “boom”, “fuck”, Eric cartman, South Park, gold, Percy Jackson, sad and bored

[inexplicifics]

Hiya! I was wondering if you’d been having any luck making the Cats Among Wolves bunnies cooperate lately? If not, that’s cool. Plot bunnies are not the most cooperative creatures, but I figured I’d ask. I was also curious about what the writing process usually looks like for you if you were willing to explain it a bit. Do you tend to jump around between projects just following the inspiration, or do you write out at least a whole scene or chapter before letting yourself move around? How many times do you usually send a fic to Rose for betaing before you feel ready to release it? I always find different people’s processes so interesting.

So Cats Among Wolves is mostly not cooperating at the moment - I am weirdly low on Brain and the bunnies are not doing long-form very well just now. But here's a snippet from the Cedric & Axel fic:

Fuck, this is good, Cedric opines, sipping greedily at the soup Gaetan is holding for him. “The old Wolf knows his way around a kitchen,” Gaetan agrees, nodding. “I think I gained most of a stone the first winter I spent here.” “You needed it,” Eskel puts in. “All you Cats are too damn scrawny.” “Wolves are just absurdly big,” Gaetan sniffs. “And what are Vipers, then?” Eskel - teases. And Gaetan is grinning. Axel has never seen Gaetan so relaxed around an alpha before. Not even Cedric. But there’s not even a hint of tension in his littlest brother. He’s utterly unafraid. “Vipers are mostly perfectly normal sizes, Letho’s just special,” Gaetan says cheerfully. Letho smirks.

As to my writing process - oh gods, it's like a pogo stick. I often have eight or ten docs open, and I create a new WIP at least three times a week. (I am very easy to plotbunny. And I am surrounded by enablers.) I write until I get stuck and then I go to something else. Sometimes, if something really grabs me, I can get a whole longfic out in a week; sometimes I have to come back to it again and again until it clicks. My personal feeling is that as long as words are ending up in a row, it's all good.

I don't outline. Outlines kill fic for me. Once I've written down what's going to happen, why bother writing it again? Even for something like MBtT, I had the very loosest possible sketch of the plot and the desired relationships. I also can't estimate how long a fic is going to be to save my life. I thought MBtT was going to be 50K. I have to very deliberately keep from putting plot into things like prompt fills and flash fics, because once I've added plot, that fic isn't getting done in less than 10K.

I usually send the fic to Rose when it's completely done, and then do a pass through it once she's left comments, fixing all the plot holes she finds. Then she checks my work and I put it in the posting queue.

One thing I have found that helps me is that I color-code my docs. Blue is in progress, purple is ready for beta, and green is ready to be posted. It makes it easier for me to track things visually.

The other thing that really helps is cheer-readers. Because I try to only post finished fics, sometimes I'll start wondering if what I'm writing is really any good. Rose and Twist and Ray have all been wonderful at Encouraging me enthusiastically to keep going, and suggesting directions when I get stuck. Cheer-readers are great and I encourage writers to find them if they can.

Hope that was interesting!

[xcyphoz0a]

Try Again

Gender neutral reader, angst → fluff TW/CW: fighting Character(s): Tighnari Word count: 444(oh no) Proofread: n/a | So whenever you ask me again, how I feel… Please remember, my answer is you | A/N: e..

Tags: @chaoffee

It had never occurred to Tighnari the possibility of you leaving him during a fight.

Until he had found a letter, handwritten, on his bedside table of yours.

I’ll be somewhere else for today. I need a break.

He felt panic–you could’ve honestly written where you’d be. He knows you’re capable, yet he can’t help but fret over you.

But he remembers why you both fought the day before. You told him that you felt like a child, felt coddled, that he was too overbearing when you left to go somewhere without him.

And his only response was that he couldn’t help but worry. Now, he finds himself sighing at his own stupidity. There could’ve been a valid reason, but he knows that this worry only stems from his concern, and the lack of logic and reason renders him sitting on the side of the bed, as his ears visibly droop down.

He sits there in this sad, miserable trance until Collei knocks on the door along with the traveller, as his eyes open again, unlatching the lock to the front door as he nods, gesturing to the three to wait for him later.

The mirror stares back as he looks at himself, trying to put his ears ‘back to normal’, lest they show his feelings, but every time, it drops lifelessly onto his head as if it had no life anymore.

The day passes like so, but every forest ranger can sense the more irritable sides to him, the way he snaps at the littlest of things, how his moods seem to have become even more intensified, as they tried their best to give him some distance.

And as the day darkens to a wonderful shade of indigo and purple, Tighnari’s patrol around the forest comes to an end for the day as he trudges back towards his home, anticipating nothing, but with the tiniest spark of hope that you’d be there, waiting for him.

The door opens with a squeaky creak as he murmurs out a small ‘I’m home’, walking towards the bedroom until his wrist is grabbed by an unknown grip. He turns around in slight panic, until he sees your form and visibly relaxes, his ears becoming full of life again, his tail swishing around in joy as you smile slightly at his contentment.

No words are shared between the both of you as you pull him into a tight and secure embrace, as his arms hook around you to reciprocate your motions.

It may be the smallest and simplest of touch and affection, but he knows that in every lifetime, every day, his answer and key will be you.

[kittyball23]

Young Love (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: What if our Main 7 Trolls had met years earlier?

__________________________________________

BroZone’s performance, judging by the round of applause and standing ovation, was astounding that night. The music was sharp, the harmonies were tight. It was a performance so good that it could bring one to tears… which is exactly what it had done to Floyd.

Backstage, the brothers stood in a half-circle around the magenta Trolling, who hastily wiped away the water from his eyes only to have more replace it the next instance.

“Come on, bro! What you got to be crying for?” John Dory asked. “We rocked the house!” To emphasize, he gave Floyd a playful punch on the shoulder, and then promptly went to fist-bump Spruce and high-five Clay for their accomplishments.

“I know,” Floyd whimpered, though he was still unable to help himself when more tears continued to come.

But right before Spruce could make a comment about how red his eyes were looking, or before Clay could start sniggering that he was being a crybaby, a new voice broke into their circle with pretty much the same question that both the purple and yellow Trolling had in mind.

“Oh my, why the tears? I thought the performance was lovely!”

The boys whirled around, nearly stunned out of their vests at the sight of the Pop Village’s royalties, standing right there in all their glory - King Peppy and Princess Viva themselves!

They collectively gasped, speechless at their presence, though surprisingly, Floyd was the first to actually muster the voice to speak up.

“They’re not sad tears,” Floyd sputtered. “They’re happy tears!”

“Ohhhh,” the king said, chuckling. “I understand what you mean.”

Viva giggled. “The minute Daddy saw my little sister he couldn’t stop crying!” she explained.

Then, as if it was on cue, the boys heard a light giggling coming from atop the king’s head. A fond smile grew on King Peppy’s face, and he reached into his bright pink hair to pull out an equally bright-pink-haired baby Trolling.

They gasped once more. “Princess Poppy!”

The baby giggled at the mention of her name and babbled sweetly. Then, her babbling turned into somewhat of a tune – a familiar one at that, because it almost sounded like the song that they’d been singing onstage.

King Peppy laughed and fondly nuzzled his daughter before setting her down so she could toddle out a few moves. “Ah yes, she just loved your performance, too. Can’t get enough of it!”

John Dory smirked and crossed his arms. “Yeah, well, I guess she knows talent when she sees it!”

Spruce, who was being humbler on the matter, gasped and elbowed his brother. “JD!”

John Dory gave him a confused look. “What?”

King Peppy laughed at the interaction. “Not to worry youngling, he’s actually right.”

Viva nodded her head in agreement, her golden pigtails bobbing. “You all really are talented. I really loved your Rusty Robot, Clay!” she said, referring to the dance move that the yellow-haired Trolling was best known for.

Surprised but pleased to hear the future Queen of Pop compliment him so, Clay blushed. “Oh! Um, th-thanks.” He looked away bashfully.

“And the baby – Branch, was it? – he is absolutely wonderful!” King Peppy added.

Spruce had to grin at that. “I know, right? I taught him some of those moves, by the way!”

JD scoffed and rolled his eyes. Who was being cocky now? His thoughts were interrupted when his littlest bro toddled at his feet, already back in the dancing groove that he had onstage. The baby was really getting into it, swaying and rolling his hips and bobbing his head without a care in the world! Well, that was until his gaze landed upon the youngest pink Pop princess.

Branch paused mid moonwalk and his blue eyes grew wide. Princess Poppy noticed him, too, and couldn’t resist giggling joyfully at him. Branch, adoring the sound of her infectious laughter, grinned broadly, showing off his one tooth, and toddled over to her. Full of confidence, he pulled off the move that Spruce had taught him – the one that he said would make girls swoon, and had indeed done just that when he went upon the stage that night – winking and putting on a suave smile while extending his hand out to her. But Poppy didn’t faint or grab hold of his hand to brush their fingers together. The pink Pop princess instead took little Branch completely off guard when she leaped up at him, wrapped her pink arms around his neck and attacking him with a fierce hug. Branch let out a squeak of surprise, but then hugged her right back just as tight.

By this point, the conversation between the king, Viva, and the brothers had paused as they were all looking down at the two babies.

“Awwww, that’s so cuuute!” Floyd gushed, the scene only prompting more tears to flow out of his eyes.

“Well, looks like Branch has got himself a little girlfriend before you,” Clay teased, nudging Spruce.

The purple-haired Troll rolled his eyes and blew a raspberry. “Oh, please, bro. I had a girl when I was just an egg!”

“What?” Clay laughed. “No you didn’t!”

“Yeah I did!” Spruce insisted.

“Uh, no, you didn’t,” John Dory said. Spruce shot him a look and JD scoffed. “Dude, I was there to see that you didn’t!”

A back and forth suddenly began, in which Spruce argued that he would one day have a harem of girls, and JD teased him greatly for even thinking such a thing. Clay too was roped into the conversation, to which he supported JD’s point of view, and Floyd simply hung back, stating that he took up neither argument and would very much appreciate skirting the topic of girls altogether.

But amidst all the squabble, Baby Branch could hardly care less to pay any mind to it. He was hugging a real cute gal, and she was hugging him right back! Her hug was so warm and snug, he felt like he could cuddle against her soft, pink figure all day. There was something so comforting, so distinguishably wonderful about being in Princess Poppy’s embrace that it canceled out any negative thoughts that he could ever have.

Branch didn’t know how long the hug lasted, but he did know one thing - this was definitely the start of a beautiful friendship!

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Not You

Summary: While Dean and the reader are working a djin case, the hunt goes wrong and they wind up stuck in the djin’s perfect little world made just for them. Dean owns his own successful line of garages and the reader is a school teacher and stay at home mom to their three small kids. Dean and the reader know it’s not real and that they have to find a way out before they get sucked into their own bubble of happiness...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,300ish

Warnings: language, fight

A/N: Enjoy!

______

“Oh, crap,” said Dean. You blinked open your eyes, taking in a bright, sunny room. Sitting up, you found yourself in a bed, a king sized bed, soft sheets all around you. Looking at Dean you found him staring at you, green eyes slightly narrowed.

“Did that djin get the drop on us?” you asked, turning your head and taking in the nice master bedroom.

“Good, it’s you,” he said, giving you a quick hug. “But also, crap it’s you.”

“Sam will come and find us,” you said.

“Or if we bite the bullet in here, it’ll be enough to shock us back awake,” said Dean. “I bet this place has a kitchen with some fancy knives or something.”

“This better not hurt,” you said, rolling out of bed the same time as him. 

“Hopefully we’re not strung up out in the real world,” said Dean. He took your hand and you walked out the door.

You nearly fell back on your feet when something went past quickly and down the hall.

“Sorry mom!” said a boy, probably around ten years old.

“Dad, can we have pancakes for breakfast?” said a girl, maybe a year or two older, rushing out of a bedroom nearby.

“I want bacon,” said another girl, this one around seven if you had to guess. She went with the other ones down to the stairs before they all ran down them, pairs of feet rushing around below you.

“Who’s dream world is this?” you asked.

“I always wanted a little girl with you,” he said quietly, pulling you back into the room.

“I wanted three kids,” you said, Dean pursing his lips. “We’re sharing a dream world.”

“Apple pie life,” said Dean. He shut his eyes and sighed. “We need to wake up.”

“Agreed,” you said. You and Dean walked down the hall and down the stairs to the landing, then down some more, finding two kids sitting on a couch watching cartoons, the littlest one sucking on a juice pouch as she climbed up onto a counter stool.

“Daddy. Bacon please,” she said. You went past her and to a butcher block full of knives, grabbing two and skirting out of the room. “Daddy?”

“We’ll be back in a minute,” said Dean, following you around the corner to a dining room in the front of the house.

“Just do it quick before we get sucked in,” you said. 

“Wait,” said Dean, grabbing your wrist. “The djin. It didn’t glow blue, remember? Wasn’t it like purple?”

“Yeah? So?”

“What if it’s a different version of djin, you know, like the one with Charlie was,” he said.

“If we stay, we die,” you said.

“We could end up killing ourselves if we do this. A purple djin is not normal. I just...give Sam a little more time to find us. If we don’t snap out of by the morning, we do it then.”

“Dean, one night in here-”

“It’s one day. I survived out in the real world for a day in here,” he said.

“We have no idea if time works the same. We could be-”

“One hour then,” he said.

“I can live with an hour,” you said. “In the meantime...let’s cook breakfast for our fake kids.”

“Alright. I could do with some bacon myself.”

About fifty nine minutes later you were watching Dean laugh with the girl that’d requested bacon. Dean had promised to make cookies with her after breakfast and they were busy washing up some dishes in the sink. The boy and girl tucked into either side of you on the couch.

“You’re not real,” you said, loud enough for them to hear you in the kitchen.

“Of course we are,” said the boy next to you. You stood up and Dean walked over, resting his hands on your arms.

“One more hour?” he asked.

“No. We’re getting suckered in as is,” you said. He frowned and gripped you tighter. “Ow.”

“One more hour,” he said.

“Oh fuck!” you said, Dean grabbing you and pulling you flush against his chest. “You’re not Dean.”

“Took you long enough,” he smirked. The kids disappeared and he wrapped a strong arm around your back, pining you to him. “In case you’re unaware, purple djin? They do something special...you’ve read about it before in the lore…”

“Oh god,” you said, trying to get away from him but he was an image, nothing to truly fight against. 

“Dream and then a nightmare,” he said. “My own special blend of nightmare. We all know how Demon Dean treated you and you gave Dean some distance when he first got back. This face hurt you and it’s gonna hurt you again.”

“For your information, he was on that hunt with me, he-”

“I’m your head. The twisted version but I know what you do. I’m sure he’ll get caught too and then it’ll be a party,” he said.

“You can’t do anything to me. It’s my head. When I want to wake up-”

“Should have stabbed yourself earlier,” he said, pushing your wrists behind your back. “Normal Dean, yeah you could take him in a fight if you had to. But me? The demon kind? You got no chance, sweetheart.”

“Fuck you.”

You stomped on his foot and he grunted, giving you enough space to at least get an arm free. You spun away from and slammed back with a punch to his gut he wasn’t expecting. You kicked and got your other arm free but he swiped your feet out from under you. He was on top of you fast and reached behind his back, pulling out the first blade.

“Now you’ve pissed me off,” he said. He raised it up and moved his arm down fast.

Your heart jumped into your throat and your eyes went wide for a brief moment as you were somewhere else, Dean patting your face.

“Honey,” he said, turning your cheek. “Y/N, sweetheart. Talk to me.”

“You get it?” you mumbled as he reached above you and cut you down.

“Yeah. He was nastier than usual,” he said. He caught you as you dropped down and pulled the needle out of your neck. “You can barely stand. How close was I?”

“Well the demon version of you was mid swing to stabbing me in the chest so pretty close,” you muttered. 

“That’s...come on,” he said, scooping you up and carrying you out of the building bridal style. Five minutes later you were in the front seat of baby with his jacket laid over top of you. You had your eyes shut when the door opened and you heard him get in. “How you feeling?”

“Crappy,” you said. “Tired.”

“You lost a bit of blood.”

“I’m alright,” you said, shifting over on the seat and leaning against him. “Just wanna go home.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry for what I did back when I was a demon. I know I roughed you up.”

“You weren’t you.”

“Still. I-”

“Dean, you apologized for it a long time ago. It was never your fault. I just want to go home with the real you and cuddle and eat breakfast in bed in the morning,” you said.

“We can do that,” he said.

“We had kids over there too,” you said after a beat. He was quiet as he started to drive away from the old building.

“We can talk about that too,” he said. You tilted your head up and he smiled. “Tomorrow. Tonight, let’s get you fixed up.”

“That I can agree with.”

_______