#multiverse mondays

[ddejavvu]

for multiverse Monday, can I request rockstar!eddie and shy!reader? I love their dynamic. maybe just a fluffy night on tour?

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

--

You're spending another night on Eddie's tour bus. You're staring at the small patch of wall that's at your feet, a blackout curtain pulled by your side that makes it nearly impossible to see your boyfriend. You do, though, from the light of his glowing phone.

He snorts at a quip a character makes in the movie you're watching, but you're too distracted to hear it. He digs his knee into your side, turning to face you with questioning eyes, "Babe? What'sa matter, that joke killed. Not even a giggle?"

"I didn't hear," You admit, "What did he say?"

"He said 'you should tune in to this reality and squeeze your boyfriend's butt," Eddie turns to you, wriggling his ass behind him to offer it up to your grip, and you flatten your hand there with a soft laugh.

"So? What's up," Eddie kisses the puffy skin beneath your left eye, "Too tired for a movie?"

"Just thinking," You hum, and Eddie kisses the words off of your lips.

"'Bout what?"

"Your friends are out drinking," You remind him, as if he's forgotten you have the bus to yourself, "And we're here."

"If you want, we can catch 'em at the club," Eddie offers, propping himself up on his elbow in bed and subsequently slamming his head into the top bunk, "Ow! Actually, maybe I shouldn't drink with a concussion."

"Eddie," You sympathize, letting him bury his face into your shoulder as you stroke through his curls. You press a kiss to the crown of his head, healing his ailments with a sweet smooch.

"We can go if you want," He speaks, lips puckered from how his cheeks are squished. They leave sticky stains on your shoulder, "I just thought bars weren't really your scene."

"They're not," You admit, fingers tickled by Eddie's frizzy curls, "But I thought they were yours."

"I drink sometimes," He shrugs, pressing a damp kiss to your neck, "Clubs aren't as fun now, though. They're mostly just for finding hookups, and I don't need those anymore."

"But there's music," You reason, untangling a knot in his hair, "And lights, and dancing, and your friends."

"Mm, I can do all that from right here," Eddie finally pulls his face out of your shoulder to stare down at you, hovering above you, "'S called a dance party, babe. Held 'em all the time with Wayne when I was younger. He was damn good at the YMCA."

You snort at the mental image, huffing out a slow, soft sigh, "Are you sure you would rather stay in here?"

"Duh," He looks at you like you've asked him if he's absolutely certain the earth is round, "You're here."

"That's it?" You wonder, "That's all you care about?"

"Uh-huh," Eddie lays proudly against you once more, hair fanned over the pillow, "A dance party wouldn't hurt, though. Think you could handle Love Shack?"

[steddieunderdogfics]

Petals in a Storm by inairbinad

@inairbinad

Rating: Explicit

199,988 words, 12/12 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Multiverse, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff and Angst, Past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, A Slow Burn AND an Established Relationship, because that's the fun of timeline hopping, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, gonna bang my comphet Nancy drum, and my 'everything would've been fine if Barb lived' drum, Rockstar Eddie Munson, Bartender Steve Harrington, Future Fic, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Frottage, Switching, Pining, Happy Ending, Author Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson & Nancy Wheeler are Best Friends, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Are Roommates, Eddie Munson in Lingerie

Summary:

It's 1999, and it's been almost thirteen years since the Upside Down has been closed off for good. Steve and Robin now live together in New York City, and may be flailing a little bit when it comes to their personal lives. When El asks Kali to use her powers to help Steve get his act together, he's in for a shock. Kali shows him a vision of a happier version of his life where Barb never died, and somehow as a result he ended up practically married to Eddie Munson. In the end, Steve can't help but wonder if he's meant to be with Eddie in every universe.

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Challenge Monday. The challenge this week was Fics with 12/12 chapters.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[starswirly]

[ * Giving Inkoi some pals! Dream also gets full fish (slug) effects— Unfortunately Blue is not immortal and only gets some fun marks and theming ]

(Dream -> Jokublog, Swap Sans/Blue -> AU Community)

[mercurialmollysblog]

That Black Widow Suit 🖤🖤

[cuteniarose]

I'm bored and can't sleep because of cramps so I decided to mess around with an incorrect quotes generator using the latest OCs @katkastrofa and I created that I unfortunately cannot talk about in detail here because I'd get nerfed in an instant:

[caesarclowningaround]

Fandom(s): What Happened to Monday, A Dangerous Fortune Rating: E Chapter(s): 7 Ship(s): Adrian Knowles/Mickey Miranda Summary:

Rising star campaign manager, Mickey Miranda, is on the verge of pushing Nicolette Cayman into a seat in parliament, but there are things she's keeping from him. Secrets that could destroy both of their lives. Meanwhile, in order to get over the woman who broke his heart, Adrian has requested his checkpoint duties be moved to another sector. The same checkpoint that Mickey steps through every day. When the two hit it off, the following week turns into a frenzy of passion, heartache, and the testing of where one's morality lines truly lie.

Note(s): For the @marwan-simposium‘s Year of Marwan Event, for the June prompts: "poetry," "choking," "lingerie," and "Stop making love to me while I'm trying to fuck you"

[serpensanguiswriting]

TAG DROP ...

[ddejavvu]

hi lovely could i request dealer! remus (established relationship) where he notices james/sirius have a crush on you and he's lowkey jealous but also likes to tease them about it :))) thank you!!!

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)

--

James is staring again. Sirius is more subtle, but he does it just the same. James's big brown eyes are lazy when he's high, drifting over your body like he's perusing a magazine.

Remus knew it would happen. He's sure you've noticed it, too, but you're curled into his side and it ignites a spark of pride in him. You're still his.

James reaches for his lighter, and Remus decides to see how far he can stretch things.

"She's got it here, Prongs." Remus motions to the lighter you're fiddling with, acid green in color, "Go on, dove, light his smoke for him."

You rise to your hands and knees, leaning over to lazily aim the lighter at the end of James's blunt. It means he's now level with your tits, a down-the-shirt shot all that he needs to start squirming. Sirius stares hard at your ass, tongue shooting out to

Remus keeps a firm hand on your bum, patting it when the flame rips to life. You hover as the end of the joint catches, glowing orange as the paper begins to burn.

"Thanks, love." James hums, eyes glossy as he watches you sit back down. Remus reaches around your shoulder to tip your chin up, hand splayed over your jaw as he leans down to kiss you.

"My helper," He croons, and he doesn't need to glance up to know his friends are staring when you kiss at his chin.

[caesarclowningaround]

Fandom(s): What Happened to Monday, A Dangerous Fortune Rating: E Chapter(s): 1/1 Ship(s): Adrian Knowles/Mickey Miranda Summary: Adrian's been in love with a brothel regular for months now. Thing is, he's never actually had sex with this client before... until now.

Note(s): For the @marwan-simposium‘s Year of Marwan Event, for the April prompts: "unrequited love," "blindfolds," and "I saw a hickey on your neck and now I'm jealous"

[ddejavvu]

A bit late for multi-monday but what about Professor James sending students with love letters every session to Professor Reader?

How are you anywaay? How was your day?

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

--

James has chosen a blonde woman to deliver your mail today, a chem major that has perpetual bags under her eyes. You get it. If you had majored in chemistry, you'd be exhausted constantly, too.

"Professor Potter asked me to give this to you," She smiles awkwardly at you, letter in hand, "He said not to open it, and I didn't, the sticker just came off in my backpack."

"I trust you," You smile kindly at her, taking the note and nodding to her seat, "Thank you for being our messenger."

She departs with a kind nod, but you have a feeling she hadn't enjoyed running James's message. She takes her seat and you peel the letter out of its envelope, peering down at James's messy, but endearing scrawl.

'Dear Professor Y/L/N,

I'm writing to you today to speak about the administration's new budget cuts. Starting 9/01, there will no longer be Nespresso pods stocked in the break rooms, nor will there be a machine for you to bring your own. I'm sure you'll lament this loss just as much as the rest of us, but it's either that or our salary that gets cut, and I think- okay, hopefully that was enough boring bullshit to deter any unwanted eyes. The last bloke I sent to you had the thing open before he was even out the door. I'm gonna tell Allison to keep it closed, but you know nosy students. I have more interesting things to talk about than coffee machines: I managed to find a substitute to proctor my students on Friday! We can take the whole day out on the town, we'll peruse the street market and catch dinner and a show. I would have told you over text, but this seems, like, a million times more romantic. Plus I can't write in red glitter pen over text. Go with me, darling? Say you'll be sick for your Friday lecture, send out an email the night before. Students love that. Not that they don't love you and your class, though. Bet they just don't love you as much as I do. Which is a lot, I love you a lot.

Your love (who loves you a lot),

James Potter <3'

[ultradude13]

Somewhere in the multiverse, this exists.

[sonicussy]

Last Name: Strange | S. Strange

pairing: dr strange x female!reader

wc; 1.3K

warnings; angst </3

synopsis: everything he’s wanted at his fingertips…

a/n: first time writing for the doctor! so I hope it’s good <3

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt list

—

Something had gone wrong.

Terribly, terribly wrong.

He wasn’t quite sure what had gone wrong, just that something had. He could sense it, traveling from his fingertips all the way to his heart. One minute he had been casting his spell, and the next, he felt a shift, and now he was here.

Stephen brushes his hand on his shirt, glancing around the busy street and trying to place a familiar sight. This was still New York, the same Empire State in the distance. But he knew better, there was a hint of something in the air, and Stephen knew to always trust his instincts. He thinks through his options and concludes that the best one is to find the sanctum. If he’s right, he assumes he was in another universe and that they probably had their own Dr. Strange. He always did want to meet another version of himself. The question was, would they be best friends or enemies?

He walks down the familiar streets, noting that the names are consistent and nothing looks out of place. Which was a little odd given he had yet to find out what made this world different from his. Yet, that idea was quickly negated when he stepped foot in front of his home.

Keep reading

[ddejavvu]

Step brother hotch helping you learn/practice how to suck dick/deep throat? Not sure if this will make the cut for MVM but happy monday anyway.

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

this post is 18+ (and so are its characters) and dark, minors dni. cw for stepcest. don't like, don't read.

Kneeling between Aaron's thighs is exhilarating, even if you're not confident about what you're doing down there. You want to be there, but you're not sure you'll be good at what he's trying to teach you.

"You look good there," Aaron grins lazily, leaning back on his palms against his mattress. His half-hard dick speaks to the truth of his statement, and you swallow the saliva that pools on your tongue at the sight of his cock.

You want nothing more than to drool all over his erection but you wait for instructions, "What do I do?"

"Touch it," He instructs, "Get me hard, honey. All the way, take your hand," He reaches for your hand and you give it to him, chin chubbing slightly as you rear your head back when he holds your hand in front of your face.

"Spit." He commands, so you listen. You spit against your palm and he tugs your hand away from your mouth, molding your fingers around the length of his shaft.

"-and- mm," His chest rises and falls rapidly as you squeeze him slightly, "Yeah, do that, and- and move your hand- yeah."

He licks his lips as you stroke his cock, pleased with yourself and your skill when he's fully erect after only a few gentle touches. You slow in your fist's pumping when he sets a hand on your arm, "Okay, now stick your tongue out and lick it, honey. Just the tip, just-" He hisses as you do as you're told, craning your neck forwards to drag your tongue flat along the head of his cock. It leaks slightly as you do so, leaving a trail of sticky precum along your tongue for you to swallow.

"Put it in," He demands breathlessly, urgently, "Honey put it in your mouth, okay? All the way," He brings a hand to the back of your head as you wrap your lips around his cock, pushing you down so that you nearly choke on it when it invades your throat.

"Yeah- fuck," Aaron pants, holding your head tight there before remembering you'll need to move, "Yeah honey, lips tight like that, just- ooh, fuck."

Evidently, you're a decent lay. You'd been nervous that it would be awkward or foreign to you, but it feels natural to rear backwards, bobbing your head back and forth on his cock and licking broad stripes up the underside that make him twitch on your tongue.

"More," He demands, fist suddenly clenched tight in your hair. His knuckles prod your head forward again, shoving your throat around his aching cock, "More, Y/N, keep going. You're doing great, keep doing th- what you're doing."

Looking up through your lashes means you catch sight of his face twisted in pleasure, eyes scrunched tight and mouth similarly tense. His jaw falls open as you suckle around the head of his cock and his thighs tense, squeezing against your shoulders that are caught between them.

"More," He repeats, pulling your hair and dragging you off of his cock entirely, then shoving your face back into it, "Keep going, faster- faster and- nngh! Harder, and faster," He pants, pulling you on and off of his dick like a toy, "-and more- more!"

He lets out a strangled, raspy groan as his dick twitches once more, a warm ooze of cum coating your tongue and dripping instantly down your throat. You splutter and cough as you try separating yourself from his cock but he doesn't let you pull away until you've swallowed around it, a feat that brings stinging tears to your eyes.

"Fuck, that was good." He breathes, then hunches forward to lean towards you, "You were good, baby. You had nothing to be nervous about."

He cups your cheek, pressing a kiss to your lips that are mottled with spit and what's most likely his cum as he gives you that signature lazy grin of his.

"Thank you," You manage to gather the words, even if they're broken and thick with the ache in your mouth, "Thank you, Aaron, for teaching me."

"Anytime," He kisses the corner of your mouth this time, licking your spit off of his lips when he moves away, "You should keep practicing, baby, so you don't forget anything. At least twice a week."

"Three times," You breathe, desperate.

His smirk only grows, and he nods thoughtfully, "Good idea. Three times a week. Practice makes perfect, baby." He kisses you one last time, and by the way that he cradles your jaw in his nimble fingers, you know he thinks you already are.

[myopinionisimportant]

Is it reasonable to assume Tempest has a cloaca?

[ddejavvu]

for multiverse monday, maybe bodyguard!Hotch who's supposed to be watching/protecting reader (maybe a politicians daughter or something) and he catches her trying to sneak out of the window to go to a party

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

this post is 18+, minors dni.

He catches you by your ankle. One minute your hands are planted firmly on the trellis outside your window, a bit dusty, but nothing terrible, and the next they're hanging down past your head in midair, a force yanking you back from inside your window.

"Aah- hey!" You stammer, writhing where you're being pulled back through your window. You hadn't anticipated being caught but you're not surprised it's Aaron that's found you, the man seems to have a sixth sense for when you're disobeying his orders.

He grabs onto your other ankle without getting kicked, twisting his arms so that you flip from your stomach to your back. He drags you the rest of the way through the window, thankful that your bed is bumped up against the wall so that you lay sprawled out over the mattress as he stares down at you, eyes narrowed and accusatory.

His silence speaks for itself, and with the way that he'd dragged you back through the window, your already too-short dress has ridden up your waist. It's bunched at your hips now, revealing a bright white pair of lacy underwear that barely hides anything from your bodyguard.

"Excuse me," You huff, hands shoving at your dress to cover yourself once more, "I was trying to escape."

Aaron's eyes narrow impossibly thinner, a muscle in his jaw tightening in annoyance as he looms over you.

"Are you fucking insane?" He asks, dropping your ankles and leaning down to brace his palms on the mattress. He's big, mean, and scary as he hovers above you, spitting mad while he bends his arms to draw himself closer to your face.

"It's my job to protect you." He reminds you, disdain clear in his voice, "And I cannot do that if you slither out the window and run off to some- what, a party?" He grabs at the cheap jewelry around your neck with a rough hand as you lay beneath him, a bottle opener strung on a chain, "You're willing to risk your safety for a few beers?"

"I-" You start, but he's not finished, leaning in even closer with every point he makes.

"-You show absolutely zero regard for your own safety," He accuses, jabbing a finger into your chest, "And even less regard for the job I was assigned. Do you understand that I will be completely responsible should something happen to you? It doesn't matter that you tried leaving without my knowledge, if you had escaped and gotten hurt it would have been my fault. You were instructed to stay here, and I don't understand why that's not good enough for you. What else do you need besides your life? What else, what do I have to do to get you to listen to me?"

With the proximity he's kept between you, barely any space at all, he hasn't noticed your legs slowly raising on either side of his torso. When he finishes with his chest heaving and his face flushed in anger, you lock your legs around his waist, and his eyes flash with something dark.

"Make me," You plead, voice weak but desperate as you reach up to cup his cheek, "Aaron, make me stay. Make me listen, give me a reason to stay."

He's still braced on the mattress, hovering above you, but the finger that had been pushing against your chest falls to your torso, his palm flat against your dress. It's rucked up your thighs again, and his hand slides around your hip, gripping you tightly.

He sighs, dipping down to press a bruising kiss to your lips, "You are impossible."

"Aaron," You gasp, skin on fire where he kisses at your jaw. His nose brushes your skin but he pulls away all too soon, reaching for something behind him while you sit up straight to chase after his touch.

"Aaron," You repeat, pleading this time, "Wait, please-"

"Lay down," He turns, snapping at you as his hand comes to push against your chest. It's forceful, it knocks your back flat to the mattress again, and you see he's retrieved a tie from his go bag that's stashed in the corner of your room. He grabs both of your wrists with the same massive hand, tugging them above your head and wrapping the tie intricately around them so that it ties both to the headboard of your bed. You're stuck, and you're thrilled to hear his deep voice continue murmuring for you.

"You are not moving from this spot for the rest of the night," He warns you, eyes dangerously dark as he undoes the buttons of his shirt, "And you'll be so sore tomorrow morning that you couldn't move if you tried, so I hope you enjoyed your freedom while you had it."

[ddejavvu]

Omg omg bodyguard!anakin taking care of you when you get carsick in long car rides!!! He lets you sleep on him and brings a lemon for you to sniff when you feel sick and a water bottle too :( and he gets mad at your driver if he’s going too fast on the windy roads :((

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

okay wait i did this within the star wars universe so they are not in a car but they are in a speeder <3 thank you for your prompt and please send me more anakin requests <3

--

There are two words that Anakin Skywalker never expected to be saying in a moving speeder: Slow down. But they come out venomous and rough towards the pilot that's steering you through a narrow canyon, over a less-travelled route to your destination. He's perhaps taken the mindset of bodyguard a tad too serious, and he's ordered your pilot to steer clear of any populated areas to avoid potential danger. It means, though, that you're not rewarded with the straight-shooting lanes of the city that you're used to, and instead you're hurtling through winding passageways and bobbing up and down through any available gaps in the rock face.

"I can't go much slower than this," Your pilot has clearly never been spoken to with such malice, but Anakin has little time for pleasantries as he pulls you tightly into his side. He keeps his grip pointedly off of your stomach, not wanting to aggravate it any more than the ride already has, his hand resting on your shoulders rather than your waist.

"Unless you want sick on the back of your head and a demotion from the Princess's personal staff, slow down." Anakin snaps, hand rubbing broad strokes down your back.

"No, it's-" You choke on a barely-concealed gag, breathing heavy where you're hunched into Anakin's side, "It's okay. It's not his- fault."

Anakin chooses to ignore the way you so easily spare your pilot; he thinks that if he were on your permanent staff he'd live every day making sure you never had to suffer from things like motion sickness again.

"Anakin," You breathe against his shoulder, somewhat of a pant as you try catching your breath without turning your stomach again, "I'm sorry. I know this is not what you signed up for."

"Shh," He hushes, reaching down to dig through the bag that you'd helped him pack. You'd been nervous about getting sick on the way so he'd loaded every nausea remedy he could think of, including a citrus fruit to relieve your symptoms.

"Here," He unwraps the cut fruit from its container, his palm molding around the curved, bumpy skin as he brandishes it beneath your nose.

"Breathe this in," He instructs you, voice calm and soothing despite your iron grip on his leg. You do as you're told, and he makes it easy for you by keeping the citrus close to your face. You find that you really don't have to do anything around him; he's always got it covered.

"That's better," You mumble, head hung and stomach still upset but not churning as it was before. He rubs that same soothing hand over your back and you relax further into his hold, no longer imminently afraid of spewing vomit all over the nicest man you've ever known.

"Give me your hands," He murmurs, carefully re-wrapping the fruit so that the juice doesn't stain anything, "There's pressure points on your wrists, and if I squeeze them, you might feel better. Can I try?"

"Mhm," You squeeze your eyes shut, holding back tears as the speeder tilts to the left, your stomach once more violently angry with the movement.

Anakin's hands are soft but firm as he takes your wrists into his grip. His large thumbs roll pressure against a spot just beneath your wrist, the thin skin there bending to his will. He massages them carefully, craning his neck up to fit his chin over the crown of your head where you're slumped against him.

"Is that working?" He asks, once more in that same smooth, careful murmur. You nod almost imperceptibly but he feels it against his shoulder, and he has to fight himself to not press a kiss to your scalp while he's nestled into it.

"Okay. Close your eyes, Princess." He instructs, teeth clenching as the speeder winds down a narrow passageway. He doesn't want to disturb you, but he wants to snap something fierce at the pilot. Next time, he'll drive.

"Try to sleep the rest of the way. I'll keep pressure on these," He breaks his rhythm against your wrists to press steadily into them, "And I've got bags if you need to be sick. Okay?'

"Okay," You whimper against his shoulder, and the sound strikes him deep in the chest. He wishes he could ease your pain, he hopes his impromptu acupressure is enough. You're more than happy to take his orders, and Anakin is acutely aware of every single rise and fall of your chest as you slowly doze off against his shoulder.

He wants the ride to be over, because he wants your pain alleviated, but he lets himself indulge in the thought of doing this all day. Of being stuck to your side for eternity, your bodyguard, healer, and pillow all at once.

Once the speeder is docked safely at your sanctuary he lets the pilot disembark with one last scathing glance, and settles into the seat. He can't bear the thought of waking you, even if you would be happier in your bed as you sleep off the nausea, because he's happier here, with your face squished against his shoulder blade, and your hands in his own.

If he has to spend all night in the cramped speeder bay, he happily will.