#i hope i've done Angel justice

[lucidfairies]

money [a.a]

pairing: ceo!abby x secretary!reader

synopsis: when you finally land the job of your dreams, you had no idea what your boss would be like. and damn, no idea you conjured could've done her justice.

warnings: top!abby, bottom!reader, age gap (reader is in her 20s, abby is in her early 40s), cunnilingus (r/a receiving), strap (r!receiving), praise + degradation, mommy kink, dirty talk, manhandling, pet names (sweetheart, sweet girl, angel, baby, whore, slut)

word count: 3.3k

it wasn't everyday that you landed a job with one of the most well known law firms in washington. for now you were just a secretary, someone to sit outside of an office and take calls, but your hope was to work your way up to one of their lawyers.

you had little prior experience with being a secretary, but it was just enough to get you this gig. the building was large, and the office you were to assist was on one of the highest floors, naturally where the head of the firm was.

you knew her, abby anderson. incredibly talented lawyer who even won over a supreme court case. though you hadn't met her in person, you were exhilarated to meet her. she was who you dreamed to be, especially by her age.

it wasn't until your third day, when abby was finally in the office, when you got a glimpse of what working here would actually look like. abby showed up in a well pressed black suit, armani logo drilling into your eyes like a laser, making you feel all that underdressed.

"do I know you?" she asked when you knocked gently on her office door and went in. she truly didn't mean to be rude - her son had been sick for three days and she was feeling it now - but you didn't know that. you automatically assumed she was an asshole, and that threw you off.

you cleared your throat, meeting her eyes and immediately shifting them again. she was intimidating, almost scary. "I'm y/n. I'm your new assistant." she looked you up and down, gaze still burning your skin, and the corner of her mouth turned up to a smirk.

"great. I take my coffee black, nothing in it. there will be a card on your desk that you can charge it to every morning. get yourself something. I expect you to leave before I do, as I stay late. by any chance, do you babysit?" your eyes found hers as you finally looked up.

"I mean, I can. I used to when-" she cut you off, uninterested in anything except the yes. you noted that for later.

"I might need you to pick up my son from school every couple weeks. not often, and certainly not until I've run a background check on you." she wasn't hardly looking at you now, eyes flipping between her papers and computer. "did I miss anything?"

"no ma'am," you said, standing up and instinctively wiping off your skirt, though there was nothing there. suddenly you were back at your desk, waiting for calls and bookings to come in while trying to make sense of that interaction.

the next day you arrived late, but in your defense, the line at the coffee place was long and traffic was even longer, and now you weren't even sure that the coffee was hot. abby was there when you gently knocked on her door, allowing your entry with a low 'come in.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, there was really bad traffic and the line-"

"it's okay, sweet girl." your stomach flipped. yesterday, when your eyes knew nothing but the floor, you hadn't exactly taken in her appearance, but today. today.

today she was in a black turtleneck, sleeves right around the muscle in her arms that just made her look so, so good. her black slacks were tight at her hips with a belt, and they were hugging her legs so tight that you were sure the seam would rip.

her hair was pulled into a nice bun and she wore no makeup, not that she ever needed to. she had freckles, beautiful eyes. rings. she had rings, that she could put inside of you any day.

"I'll be on time tomorrow, miss." your gaze dropped again as you turned to leave her office. this was surely going to be nothing but torture for the following months.

two weeks later was the first time she asked you to stay late. you originally had plans, but the way your name dripped off of her tongue like honey made you immediately cancel them. she had asked you politely to pick up her son, and you even acquired her number from the ordeal.

dealing with kids was not your specialty, but abby's son was a delight. he talked all about his mom, some about his dad and it made you wonder if abby was single or not. she never wore a ring to your knowledge, not even on a necklace, and from your speculation she almost looked like a lesbian. maybe you were just dreaming about the end.

if you had taken your apartment and multiplied it by ten, it still wouldn't be half the size of abby's house. she truly did have money, if the armani suits and porsche didn't say that already.

an hour into your babysitting, which almost just felt like hanging out with a kid in a mansion, abby got home. she walked in, greeting you with the first real smile you had ever seen on her face. your brain malfunctioned when you gently placed her hand on your arm and pressed an innocent kiss onto your cheek.

you were blushing profusely, pupils blown, almost dizzy, all she did was kiss your cheek, a very normal way of greeting someone and you were fucked. abby didn't fail to see you run your fingers over the spot and look at them before quickly turning back towards the two of them.

abby lived for it. lived for the you drooled over everything she did, lived for the way that she was sure her fingers would look so, so good in your mouth... and she tried not to think about it. how could she, when her son was standing right next to her, trying to tell her about his day, and you. you just looked so innocent.

you were engulfed in her smell, the perfect balance of pine and amber and erotica. she smelled like five hundred dollar cologne right off the shelf of valentino. you wanted to smell like that, wanted to smell like that, wanted to wear her clothes and have everyone think that you were together.

"thanks for coming, sweetheart. I'll see you on monday." you looked at her with your brows knit, knowing you had work the following day, friday. "take the day off. you did something for me, and I'm repaying you. use my card and get something."

the amount of money she had to just throw around was so attractive to you. she was an independent woman who brought in millions every year and was letting some secretary she had known for three weeks let buy anything on a day off.

monday had arrived, and you had purchased nothing with abby's card, naturally. you weren't one to spend someone's money just because they had a lot of it, or because they told you to. she would've had to buy it for you to accept it, at that.

it was nearing eleven when abby called you into her office by your first name, instead of one of the many nicknames she always seems to use. "sit." she demanded as you stepped in, and you did so.

"is something wrong, ms. anderson?" she wasn't mad, but she was irritated. she told you to do something, told you to put yourself first and you didn't.

"I told you to treat yourself on friday," her gaze left her laptop and met your eyes. "why didn't you?" you blanked for a moment.

"I just.. I didn't feel right spending money that wasn't mine." she gave you a disapproving look, before getting up and coming around her desk to stand in front of you. in a matter of moments, one of her large hands was grabbing your jaw and forcing your head up to look at her.

she bent down slightly, lips grazing over yours, and you were sure she could feel how much your face heated up. "next time I tell you to do something, you're going to do it. understand, sweet girl?"

"I don't-" your pupils were blown and you were so desperate for her to press her lips just a bit closer, fill the gap and just let you have it.

"say 'yes abby'."

"y-yes abby." she let go of your face and went back to her desk, pretending to pay you little attention, but she was acutely aware of the way you pushed your thighs together and squirmed.

"you're dismissed. I expect to see a charge by the morning." you got up and hurried out, going straight to the bathroom. your face was burning up, and you could vaguely see an imprint from her hand.

you were meaninglessly circling the mall, trying to decide what to spend this newfound money on. obviously you wouldn't get something big and glamorous, no matter how much she seemingly wanted you to.

every time you walked, you seemed to pass victoria's secret. It seemed like it was calling you to buy something, and after that interaction with abby earlier, you decided that maybe you should treat yourself and went in.

you looked around for a while before finding a cute blue set, with embroidered, lacy flowers. it was nothing special, just transparent and high waisted, but it was speaking to you. suddenly you knew what you were wearing to work the next day.

- - -

you felt completely scandalous wearing a short little skirt over the lingerie in the morning, with a button down, where the first few buttons were unbuttoned. it was different from your usual dress pants and blouse, but it definitely did what you needed it to do.

work was as usual for the majority of the morning, and you were suddenly doubting why you wore what you did. there was no point, you were seriously delusional and seriously needed help. what kind of freak where's lingerie and completely inappropriate work clothes to work after one minor interaction with their boss?

that was until you got a simple email from ms. anderson herself, reading nothing but;

my office. now, please.

you cleared your throat, brushed out your hair slightly and adjusted your shirt before nonchalantly entering her office. you sat, observing the way she remained quiet for a moment before clearing her desk and turning her attention towards you.

“did you think I wouldn't realize?” she asked, cooly, with her eyebrows raised slightly. “I mean, props to you, you did as you were told. but I checked the card. I'm not the only one who can see the transactions on that card either, sweetheart.”

you were immediately red. who else could see them? “I didn't r-really think-”

“no, you didn't. I bet the men in my finances would love to see you dancing around in whatever you bought, wouldn't they, baby?” she was standing before you could think, hands resting on the handles of your chair. “why don't you show me, huh? I know you're wearing it.”

“I'm not- we can't do that here.” you looked around, though you knew no one would ever bother her and her office had no cameras. “we're at work, abigail.” there was a fast switch in her eyes, the way they went from cocky to wide, almost needy.

“fuck,” her head dropped into the crook of your neck before she ran her nose along your jaw. “say it again. please, baby.” her tone, the gentle pleading made any rational thoughts disappear from your mind. your hand wrapped around the collar of her button down and pulled her in gently.

“abigail,” you whispered, “I want this,” with that, her hands were everywhere, all at once. she was pulling you up, wrapping her large hands around your hips as she pulled you in for a harsh kiss. she was forcing you onto her desk, keeping her lips to yours as your bodies molded to each other.

she left your lips, finding a perfect spot on your neck and sucking. you gasped when you felt her hand undoing the buttons of your shirt and pulling it out of your skirt. you were grabbing her by her waist trying to pull her closer as she continued to mark up your neck and grab your tits.

when she finally pulled away from your neck, her eyes became wide looking at your lingerie clad tits. you slid your shirt the rest of the way off and tossed it, looking up at her as you began to unbutton hers. she didn't let you get very far before she was gently pushing you back until your back was against the cool wood of the desk.

she unclipped your bra and pulled it off, tongue immediately meeting your nipple. she bit it and you yelped, grabbing her shoulders. her large hand was messing with your other, tugging gently and kneading. "I love your tits so fucking much, baby.” she mumbled into your skin while she kissed down your stomach.

she left more hickies on your ribs, but you desperately needed her in one place. she was pulling your skirt down in seconds, pressing her tongue against you like it was nothing and watching you arch and moan. she was eating you out through your underwear for a minute, before you grabbed her hair and pulled her head up.

"take them off." she smirked, and her head tilted slightly to the side.

"who said you're in charge, sweet angel?" the nickname was new, but you fucking loved that she always called you sweet. you were something sweet to her, and that made your brain lag every time.

"abby please," you bucked into her, chasing friction. that's when you felt it; the large bulge in her slacks that you hadn't noticed earlier.

"feel that, baby? that's all for you." she pulled down your underwear slowly, tossing it in the pile of clothes. she spread your lips, watching slick connect and drip down your thighs. your face burned and you covered it, embarrassed. "uncover your face or I'll stop." you did as told.

she pulled a ponytail off her wrist and pulled her hair into a bun before pressing her tongue into your clit and licking a fat stripe. your head hit the desk with a thud, reveling at the feeling. she worked your clit, sucking it into her mouth and painting patterns with her tongue while she pressed a finger into entrance.

she used her free hand to hold you down by your stomach, since your squirming was messing her up. you whined when she added a second finger, not used to her thick fingers. "if you can't take my fingers, how am I supposed to fuck you with my strap?" you moaned at her words, loving the dirtiness of it.

she returned to your clit and you got loud when she curled her fingers up into the best spot, whimpering and groaning. she remembered the time when you pressed your fingers to your cheek in her house, and brought her unused hand to your mouth, tapping your chin lightly. "open your mouth and suck," she instructed, noticing your confused look.

you took two of her fingers in your mouth and sucked them, which shut you up. your stomach coiled, a warm feeling rushing between your legs before you could even mumble a word. it felt like you just kept coming, until she finally pulled away from your cunt.

"are you gonna give me another one, angel?" she was unclipped her belt while you caught your breath. "wanna fuck you all day." she pulled her pants and boxers down just barely enough to get her strap out. "flip over, ass up." you turned over, fucked out muscles aching.

she ran the tip of her strap between your folds, letting your wetness lube it up, then lined up with your hole. she pushed just the tip in, groaning at the way you took it so well and swallowed her in. "what if I just fucked you like this, huh?" you whined.

"please.. need more," you pushed your hips back slightly, trying to push her in further. she pulled out, simply pushing the tip back in.

"desperate fucking whore," she thrust in on the last word, bottoming out immediately. you whimpered, the strap stretching you far more than her fingers. "aw, baby, does that hurt?" she pulled out far and fucked into you again.

she started fucking you, deep and hard, until you were moaning and grabbing onto the desk, trying to stabilize yourself. one of her hands left your hips and grabbed your hair, wrapping it around her fist and tugging. "fuck.. abby- abs.. mommy,”

your eyes widened at the name, which came out unintentionally. she stopped momentarily before groaning and picking her pace back up rapidly. "call me that again." the tip of her strap kissed your cervix and bumped against your g-spot every time. her arm wrapped around your waist, flicking your clit.

"mommy.. m'gonna cum." you slurred, cock drunk and fucked out. she kept her pace, hardly changing anything except for the fact that she was louder now, finding the perfect angle to get the harness to hit her clit.

"just wait a second, my love,” you held it for as long as you could, but it became too much, and she was hitting just right. your mind went absolutely blank as your vision went white, a wave crashing over you as you came.

you could hear abby moaning, but you were still going, and unable to think of anything. “fuck baby, you make such a mess.” you relaxed your tense body and look over your shoulder at abby's soaked harness, pants, and desk.

“m’sorry.” she slowly pulled her strap out and unclipped it front her hips, letting you lay for another minute before she grabbed your hips and helped you flip over and sit up. “wanna make you cum, mommy.” you looked at her with doe eyes, watching her eyes darken.

“I already came, sweetheart. don't worry about me.” you brought your hand down to cup her cunt and she took in a sharp breath. you ground your palm against her clit and she groaned, shifting her stance from foot to foot.

you slid off the desk with wobbly legs and kneeled in front of her, pupils blown. “please mommy,” you ran your nails over her abs and under her boxer strap lightly, making her muscles tense.

“such a slut, aren't you? want mommy to fuck your face?” you nodded, pulling her boxers down to her ankles. her blonde bush matched her hair, and you noticed her happy trail that you hadn't earlier. “stick out your tongue, baby, be a good girl.”

you stuck your tongue out flat, not even getting a chance to lick before she was pressing her cunt to your mouth. she fucked herself on your face, gripping your hair tight and grinding fast. you gently pushed her against the desk, lifting one of her legs to your shoulder and leaving the other one down.

she must have loved the new angle, because she was moaning and grunting more than you had ever heard her. her clit was twitching and puffy, wet from your spit and her slick. she let out an involuntary whimper, and it was like music to your ears. “gonna c-cum on your f-fucking face, angel.”

her legs shook as she came, ans you spent the following moments licking all of it up. you pulled away and stood up, still shaky. she pulled her boxers and slacks up, moving towards the pile of clothes and handing you what was yours. “do you wanna get dinner tonight?” she stopped what she was doing to button up your shirt and zip your skirt.

“yeah, that's great.” she smiled, kissing you softly.

“you can go home if you want to clean up. I can take my own calls for a few minutes.” it was your turn to smile, grateful to get out of your uncomfortable, wet clothes.

“I'll see you tonight?” you asked, looking over your shoulder once you got to the door.

“pick you up at seven.”

a/n: part two? 🤭

tag list: @shewantstoknow @baumbii @zombholic

[kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings]

Hi! If youre still doing requests, i have kind of an odd ask , but maybe some of the upper moons' reactions to meeting Muzan's wife (reader). I also really like whipped!Muzan so maybe the other demons' reactions to seeing the demon king doting on his wife. Thank you very much :)

Hi Anon! (^○^.) I actually love this request, so thank you for sliding it into my askbox ♥

Honestly I love a powerful man - especially a powerful villain - who's just absolutely in love with their wife (♥ω♥.) and would do anything for them, it just brings me joy.

Anyway! I'm rambling abit, but here is your request! I hope I've done it justice (^ω^.) Please enjoy!

Come again to request whenever you want cause I'm always open.

Muzan Kibutsuji being whipped for his wife + Upper Moons Reactions - Headcannons:

You know those types of men that are just unmovable pillars of stone - who look like they were carved from the finest marble by the hands of angels - who are always impeccably dressed with a voice of icy poison and just command your attention?

Who turn to the softest love-struck mush when with their wife

yeah, that's Muzan Kibutsuji with his wife (aka. you)

The finest meals, clothes and jewelry are yours with a click of his fingers - all done to make you happy, to see you smile

Anything that you mention briefly - doesn't matter if it''s a book or a holiday - its yours by the end of the day

Just one smile and a fluttering of your eyelashes has muzan on his knees - a singular pout of your lips has his mind running wild

You just have to breathe and Muzan's heart squeezes, breath stuttering in his chest as he looks at you in adoration

You could ask for the world and he'd give it too you on a platter

Muzan worships you

Each touch from you is a blessing to his skin

Each kiss sealed into him

Each word of love that falls from your lips make him drunk to hear, each sentence thick with a love that leaves hearts in his eyes and his heart thumping wildly

He wants to wear you like a brand - each mark you leave on him (bite marks and all) are worn with pride - and you (and only you) get to touch and mark his skin in such sensual ways

Under his wedding ring, his finger holds your bite mark, something that he begs you to do each day - with love-struck tears pricking his eyes - and it always makes him feel like he's properly yours

"My Love," He purrs with a voice a think velvet "My wonderful wife, my moon and stars, I love you for ever and always" and he kisses you so softly

Sometimes you have to stop this man from wearing matching clothes with you - "But Beloved,"he whimpers with a face liked a kicked puppy "I want us to match" - because he will absolutely wear a matching couples outfit

Other days he just likes sharing the same colour palette

When you worship him by placing soft kisses to his skin - his wrists, knuckles and faces - Muzan feels like he's on cloud nine

Upper Moons Reactions:

When the upper moons first met you, it was by accident - pure accident -they'd been summoned and it just so happened that it was when muzan was just in the midst of kissing you and bathing you with compliments

Kokushibou doesn't even blink and just stands in position like a trained guard, this sight has been something he's accidentally stumbled upon a couple of times before and honestly it makes him miss his wife

Because this isn't the first time he's met you but rather the fifth, the first actually time he met you, you were incredibly respectful of him and actually treat him nicely - you became tea drinking buddies - so he quickly came to like you

Douma/Doma genuinely shrieks - like an honest to god scream - before quickly going to make fun (not a good idea) about how loving Muzan is and, "Why don't you treat us this way Muzan-sama~ You're breaking my heart~"

Akaza looks away from such an intimate scene with respect since it felt wrong to look upon his lord loving his wife - although his heart does ache for some reason when looking at such a perfect loving scene

Hantengu starts sobbing while apologizing anxiously - actually very jealous at how loving the scene is, he wants a wife and to dote on someone

Gyokko simply proclaims it as artful and simply leaves it as such

Daki Blushes a deep crimson - it makes her want a husband to dote on her so much

While Gyutaro simply sighs before looking away - much like kokushibou and akaza in respect - with jealous crawling up his ribs at such love, he wants somebody to dote on and love him so romantically

[thethingswedotomorrow]

I love the Good Omens 'Night at Crowley's Flat' trope where after stopping the apocalypse in season 1, they go to Crowley's Flat and talk and kiss and fall in love and have a peaceful night, I do.

BUT

What if the night became 'The Night an Angel and a Demon Get Insanely Drunk and Teach Each Other How to Act'

Because honestly

They go to the flat, and ALL they know is they are going to have to swap themselves if they want to survive and finally be free from Heaven and Hell

But they have absolutely NO clue how to pull it off successfully

Sure, they know each other in and out.

Aziraphale has Crowley's eye color committed to memory (and also to paper, since Aziraphale spent 4-5 years in the late 80s trying to find a craft store in London that could help him do the color justice)

Crowley could find his angel in a crowd of millions (and not even just because only one single person in that crowd would be dressed in that ridiculous shade of tartan)

BUT they know they have to truly get this right, down to the exact detail.

So, naturally, they start by promptly opening the closest bottle of scotch that Crowley had available

Crowley was convinced this would be the easiest thing they've ever done

"Only you, Angel, would find a way to worry yourself to death AFTER stopping an apocalypse"

They begin with the easy part, switching corporations and clothing.

It was easy. Until Aziraphale realized he had to actually physically move in the very, very tight pants Crowley prefers.

The first three times he tries walking, he falls face down. And each time, realizes how it's equally hard to get back up again.

Not to mention that Crowley's corporation had learned that after 6000 years, it didn't really need all those vertebrae and bones since he never used them anyways

So now Aziraphale is just laying on the floor in terribly tight pants, very confused on how Crowley has managed all this time

(Crowley is also on the floor, having dropped there laughing after the 2nd attempt)

After they both get up (one much faster than the other) Crowley tries coaching the angel on how to walk like him

Until Crowley realizes he doesn't actually know how he walks, he just sort of wills himself forward and hopes his limbs keep up with him along the way

Eventually, after enough drinks, they settle on a technique called "Just pretend all your limbs are snakes. And you're a snake. Honestly, just as snake-y as you can manage, Angel."

Aziraphale, as difficult as this was for him, figures out that he may have gotten the easy side of this situation here. Crowley very much disagrees.

"Once an Angel, well, definitely not always an Angel, but close enough right?"

He very quickly realizes he may be wrong when Aziraphale asks Crowley to copy his walk

"Dear Lord Crowley, it cannot be that hard. You simply have to walk in a straight line"

It was indeed that hard.

Crowley has all his vertebrae now, but no knowledge of how they should be used

He tries to hold his hands behind his back and march forward, walking in what he thinks is probably, on some plane of reality, maybe a straight line

He's convinced that he's the perfect image of a stereotypical angel, head held high, an air of 'holier than thou' surrounding him

When Crowley asks Aziraphale, he only says, "Well, I suppose it will have to do for now."

Internally, Aziraphale thinks of the fact that Crowley looked identical to a bumbling penguin walking on ice.

When Crowly sits down, very pleased with himself for an impeccable performance ("As always, Angel. I've still got it." Aziraphale uncaps the vodka and drinks straight from the bottle, just staring into the distance.

He has just realized that their existence hinges on whether Crowley can figure out how to sit on a chair like a proper being with appendages and a spine.

And the odds are not in their favor, if they way the demon is sprawled out on the couch (reminding Aziraphale suddenly of a very well-done noodle, and suddenly he's starting to wonder if humans had the right idea with stress eating) is any indication

Crowley announces that he refuses to utter the words tickety boo, even if faced with destruction

"Honestly I think I'd rather have the holy water at that point" "Crowley." "I swear you just make sounds up sometimes, those aren't even real words"

4 bottles (and a very large order of takeout) later, they've got the act down well enough that it's starting to weird Crowley out

"Angel, seriously, enough with the nose. When have I ever done that with my nose? Exactly zero amount of times. I'm not a rabbit"

2 bottles later and Aziraphale has miracled Harry the Rabbit into the flat for a reason they can't quite remember

But they've got music playing from somewhere in the corner, and plenty of drinks, and the night goes on into the morning, and then they're sobering up and marching out for the most dramatic acting of their lives

And the world hasn't ended yet, so they'll probably be fine. Probably.

[mikachacha]

𝙷𝚎𝚛 𝙱𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 (𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚔𝚊 𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚗)

Synopsis: your new song is a huge hit and your two girlfriends wanted to celebrate and spoil you for a job well done

Warnings: nothing. just three idiots in love

(A/N: this is by far the most challenging piece i've ever written but also very fun. I hope im giving this one justice 🥹🥹)

🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️

"So what's the real score between you and Bada Lee?"

"So are you and Monika Shin a thing?"

If you'd have $100 every time someone asked you that, you definitely don't need to work again. People and their fascination about your relationship with those two aforementioned dancers is just crazy. Though you really couldn't blame them. Those two are just gorgeous and everyone wants them. Men and women alike and you're just lucky that you're in a relationship with both of them. Yup, the one and only Y/N is in a relationship with Bada Lee and Monika Shin. And no, you're not cheating because it was their idea to share with each other since you hated choosing and they didn't want to put you in such predicament.

"Hey angel, what are you doing?" Monika asked and placed a kiss on your cheek as you sat on the couch of your apartment, just browsing on your Instagram feed.

"Oh you know, watching pro Y/N x Monika and Y/N x Bada fans fight each other. Then there's some thirsty straight guys saying we're all just besties. Even the media is just playing us off as best friends when it's clear as the sky that the three of us are gay." you chuckled and Monika just shakes her head in amusement. It's been a year since the three of you got together and the people are still fighting whether the three of you are straight or gay for each other.

"They're still at it? Damn.. Anyways, Bada just called. Said she'd meet us at this restaurant downtown so we can celebrate the success of your new single. Our baby is becoming this huge superstar so we gotta celebrate." Monika says and you smiled, hugging her close before she pulled you in for a soft, sweet kiss.

"You know I wouldn't be able to do this without yours and Bada's help.. So thank you." you told her and she just cupped your cheeks, planting soft kisses all over your face before pulling you to your feet and helping you get dressed.

You soon arrived at the restaurant where Bada waited for you. She had a bouquet of your favorite flowers and when she saw you and Monika walk in, she got up and pulled you in for a hug and kissed the top of your head. The paparazzi and cameras didn't faze any of you. You've been open about your relationships though people just can't wrap their heads around the fact that you're dating two amazing women at the same time.

"Flowers for our beautiful superstar?" Bada offers you the bouquet and you take it, a small blush on your cheeks. You've been with them for a year though you still blush and feel butterflies whenever they do something for you or put an effort to make you smile.

"You two.. You're really going all out with this, aren't you?" you playfully glared at them and the two women just laughed, kissing your cheeks and leading you to your seat.

"What? We love spoiling our pretty baby because she's very talented and because we love her. Don't we, Monika?" Bada grins and the older of the two nodded, winking at you.

"Absolutely. And if you think this little lunch is all we're doing to celebrate, well you're very much mistaken baby. After this, we'll go see a movie then go get some iced americano and pastries. Spoil our baby some more then we go home, give you lots of kisses and cuddles because you deserve all of it." Monika added and you could feel tears welling up. If you were gonna be honest, you had doubts about this relationship if it's gonna work or not. I mean, you're much younger than them and it's not too common to have a relationship with the same sex in your country. To top that, there's three of you involved. But a year has gone by but your relationship with each other remained stronger, the bond you had with your two lovers is unbreakable and you couldn't imagine your life without Bada or Monika anymore.

"Ya! You're gonna make me cry.. You guys are way too sweet.." you told them and the two just laughed, making comments about how cute you are or how precious you are which made your cheeks heat up.

The three of you spent the whole afternoon just celebrating the success of your song. Even taking lots of pictures together, none are shy to flaunt your relationship with each other on social media. Comments began flooding your social media accounts but you just placed your phone on do not disturb mode so you can enjoy the moment with Bada and Monika.

"Let's take a picture there!" you told Monika and Bada before literally dragging the two inside the photo booth. It was cramped considering they're taller than you but you made it work. You took lots of pictures with your girlfriends, some pictures were of you kissing Bada or kissing Monika or them kissing each other. It was pure chaos spending time with them but you loved every second of it. You wouldn't change a thing between your relationship with the two as it's already perfect.

[judasofsuburbia]

Jonathan Byers might be the stupidest person on the planet. Because why...WHY did he ask Steve Harrington to model for his photography final? Why did he think he would ever be able to focus enough to capture what he needs to? Why did he wait until the last week of the semester and now, there's no time to ask anyone else and he doesn't want to hurt Steve's feelings—

“Hey,” Steve says, interrupting Jonathan's thought spiral. “Is this where you want me?” 

Jonathan looks up from his clipboard and camera to see Steve standing on top of the stool. Jonathan had sent him away with a costume he borrowed from the drama department and hadn't heard him come back in.

Steve is dressed in a toga. The crossbody strap is smaller than it would be on anyone else across his broad, hairy chest. The end of the toga rests delicately on his upper thighs, an inch away from being too short. Steve has quaffed his beautiful hair up and a plastic, golden crown of leaves sits amongst the brunette locks.

All of the moisture in Jonathan's mouth evaporates as he takes in Steve in this, what should have been, almost ridiculous outfit. Instead, Steve is absolutely striking in it and Jonathan is going to lose his mind before he even gets the lights set up.

“Uh, yeah, just hold there,” Jonathan croaks so he clears his throat. “I still have some things to set up.”

“Cool,” Steve replies simply. He shifts from foot to foot, tied up in lacy sandals. He looks around the studio that Jonathan has set up and smiles.

“Excited to see you do your thing,” Steve says. Jonathan trips over a cable.

“What?”

Steve glances over his shoulder and his face is so genuine when he says, “I wanna see you in the zone, you know?”

Jonathan blinks and ducks his head. “In the zone,” he repeats lamely.

“Yeah,” Steve smiles. “I mean, I've seen you take pictures before but never all done up like this. And this concept is really cool, I hope I can do it justice.“

Jonathan's assignment was to take from an existing piece of art, something not photography related, and recreate it. He's always been fascinated by the coliseums and marble statues of Greece, all the Gods and warriors of that time. As he was researching, the only thing that came to his mind was “Steve, Steve, Steve” and before he could even think twice, he shot him a text asking for his help. 

“You will, man,” Jonathan barely speaks above a mumble. 

Steve hums a song Jonathan doesn't know in the silence that follows. Jonathan finishes setting up all the lights and drawing the curtains of the room. He tries to pull up the screen behind Steve but can't get it to sit on the designated pole.

Steve reaches over him, his stomach resting on Jonathan's shoulder, and hooks the screen into place. Jonathan glances up at Steve's towering figure and swallows dryly. His muscular arm is bulging, his head is cast in the light from behind them like an angel. 

Steve winks and says, “You can put me to work, Byers. I don't mind.”

Jonathan's not sure that the thing that tumbles out of his lips is a laugh, per se, more like a weak, nasally huff of air. But he can't focus on that right now because he needs to stop breathing in Steve's cologne. He escapes to the other side of the room.

“You're going to be doing plenty today, I promise,” Jonathan responds while he sets up a little table next to his camera for his notes. “Why don't we start with you sitting?”

Steve sits on the stool with his legs spread, not even realizing that he's near exposing himself through the skirt. Jonathan squeaks and Steve glances down. 

“Oh shit,” Steve says, crossing his ankles. “Not used to that happening.”

“It's fine, I didn't see anything,” Jonathan mumbles, writing down nothing on his clipboard of notes. 

“I didn't go full commando under here,” Steve clarifies with a small laugh. “I'm just glad I wore white boxers today--”

And yeah, Jonathan didn't need that image either. He starts adjusting his camera on the tripod and says, “Sorry, I should have been more clear about your costume.”

“Nah man, it's alright. I kinda dig it. If we shoot outside, I'm sure the breeze will feel so good.”

Outside? No, Jonathan can't see Steve basking in the sun like this. He wouldn't survive that.

“Gonna have to settle for the AC, I'm afraid,” Jonathan says with a fumbling laugh. “Okay, first shot. I'm thinking you tilt your legs to the side, almost like you're lounging on the stool. Then pop the shoulder closer to the wall up while keeping the other down. Look up at the ceiling.”

Steve follows his instructions but he tilts his whole head up instead of just his eyes. 

“Chin down a bit, look with the eyes.”

“Like this?” Steve asks, voice innocent though it runs hot through Jonathan's ears.

Jonathan looks through his viewfinder to see Steve absolutely glowing. His brown eyes holding so much casual emotion that it tugs at Jonathan's heart. 

“Mhm. Perfect,” Jonathan captures a few shots like that before directing him to the next shot. And the one after.

Steve nails it over and over again, looking exactly like the ethereal Gods and tragic heroes Jonathan read about. Jonathan keeps telling him he's doing amazing, that he looks amazing. He can see Steve try to fight off his smile for the sake of not ruining the shot. Jonathan wonders if he could shoot that smile someday just for the sake of letting him be happy.

“You're going to give me a big head,” Steve says when they take a break. 

“Please,” Jonathan scoffs. “You already have one.”

Steve pouts playfully when he's done sipping his water. “I'm better than I was.”

Jonathan shakes his head with a fond smile. He looks at Steve directly and says, “Yeah, you are.”

Steve's lips part in surprise but then he quickly tilts his head away, sipping more water. Steve tsks. “Compliment after compliment, Byers. I should be your model more often.”

Jonathan's cheeks burn hot. “Yeah, yeah, tell your friends. C'mon, let's get back to it.”

The new few shots require Steve to show off his muscles which had to have been an idea of a deliriously horny Jonathan Byers. He could kill that guy.

“Okay, hold your hands up and behind your head. Then, uh,” Jonathan stammers, “Flex your arms for me.”

Steve raises his eyebrows but he does flex. It's not that Steve Harrington is absolutely shredded; rather, he has the toned muscles of a casual jock. He just cares about his body and his strength. It doesn't make it any less debilitating to witness. 

“G-good, that's good,” Jonathan mumbles.

“You good, Byers?” Steve asks. His smirk grows less subtle every fleeting second it takes for Jonathan to respond. “Wishing for someone more buff?”

“No,” Jonathan defends immediately. “No, uh, no, you're good. Great, even.” 

“What should I do with my face?” Steve asks.

“Keep it smug like that,” Jonathan says, a little bite to his words that comes from the roaring zoo currently in his stomach.

“Smug,” Steve scoffs, voice still teasing. “Just trying to figure you out.”

Jonathan ignores that, he does not need to be figured out today and especially not by Steve Harrington.

He takes the shot and instructs Steve to hold one arm up to the side while the other pretends to hold something. Steve stands awkwardly, clenching and unclenching the fist that's supposed to be acting right now. 

“Can you show me?” Steve asks. 

“Sure,” Jonathan says. He rounds the camera and is about to demonstrate making an “O” with his fist but Steve holds out his hand and Jonathan doesn't think before he takes it. He shapes Steve's fingers gently and places his arm outstretched to his side. Steve just watches him. 

“Should I actually hold something?” Steve asks.

“No, I'm gonna edit something in later,” Jonathan explains, awkwardly dropping Steve's hand because he realizes he's still holding it. 

“Like what?”

“I can't decide if it's going to be a sword or a lightning bolt. Armor, maybe,” Jonathan shrugs then looks up at Steve who is beaming at him.

“You can do that?” 

“Y-yeah. Photoshop and all.” 

“That's so fucking sick,” Steve exclaims. “You're gonna send these to me, right?”

“Yeah, if you want,” Jonathan says.

“Of course, I want,” Steve assures. ”Not only because you're making me into some Greek god but also because it's your art and it's fucking cool.“

“Thanks,” Jonathan breathes.

Steve reaches the posed hand up and pinches Jonathan's chin. Jonathan can feel every nerve vibrate as Steve's fingers fall away too soon. Steve gives him a curious look but returns his hand to the pose. Jonathan shuffles back behind the camera and continues shooting the pictures.

Steve showcases different smolders that make Jonathan's stomach tighten but he keeps pressing the button, keeps seeing how far Steve will go without his instruction. 

“What if I shot my arm back like I'm about to throw it?” Steve asks, demonstrating his point. 

Jonathan's eyes trail up his torso to the arm in question and he swallows. “Mhm. That looks really good.”

Steve's lips turn upward and he whispers, “So do you, Byers.”

Jonathan's whole body freezes. His finger trembles over the button but his mind is so blank that he can't tell it to push. Steve keeps glancing at him but Jonathan's not registering it. 

Steve coughs awkwardly and mumbles, “Just tell me to fuck off, man.”

That gets Jonathan's brain back online. “What?”

Steve jumps, not realizing that Jonathan was actually listening. He drops his stance and rolls his shoulders back, bones popping as he does. He sighs and says meekly, “If you don't like me flirting with you, just tell me to stop and I will.”

Flirting? Flirting. 

“You're flirting with me?” Jonathan asks, exasperated. 

“I was trying to,” Steve explains, a sheepish look on his face. “But it's obvious you're not into it so--”

“Wait…no, hold on, I honestly thought you were messing with me,” Jonathan admits, walking around the camera again. Steve steps down from the stool to be at eye level with him and Jonathan swoons a little in their new proximity. 

“I do love messing with you,” Steve confirms. “But no, Byers, I’ve been flustered all day having you stare at me and do your hot artist thing. That’s not a joke.”

“Really?” Jonathan whispers, his skin flushed. 

“Really,” Steve whispers back.

"I am into it," Jonathan responds quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Put you into a toga because I'm so into it--" Jonathan doesn't finish this sentence because Steve is kissing him and he would much rather be kissing Steve than talking.

With the curtains drawn and the studio booked for the rest of the afternoon, Jonathan finds himself in Steve's lap with Steve's tongue in his mouth. He decides about two seconds in that he's got enough pictures for the day.

[lucisprettyboy]

Hai I saw your requests are open I think can you do a hazbin hotel and helluva boss with a female reader that acts like Rouge the bat from sonic, can I request for Fizzarolli,Blitzø,Verosika,beezlebubLucifer,vaggie and Charlie together also if you can't do that all it's okay,hope you have a good day/night/afternoon <3

Thank you for asking me to write this, this is the first request I've ever done. I didn't know if you wanted romantic or platonic headcanons, so I did the first four romantic and the other three platonic.

I did a little character study because I haven't watched Sonic or played the games since I was a kid, I hope I did your vision justice. 💕

(Likes and reblogs appreciated! 💖)

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: language, sexual reference (Blitzø's, of course), and reference to drinking

Gifs from the Tumblr gallery

Hazbin Headcanons:

Lucifer

-When Lucifer first met you, he immediately knew you were special because bat demons were rare. He hasn't really met that many sinners. But you? You were something

-He had been visiting the hotel for the second or third time when he met you. You had somehow managed to hover above his head long enough to take the apple off of his hat and take a bite, and back flip into a perfect landing right in front of him.

-I don't think Lucifer had ever been that stunned. He had even stuttered introducing himself to you after that. But you weren't very fazed by him. You said your name, and told him the apple was very tart as you walked away.

-Safe to say that after that you had left a mark on his brain. (Maybe even his heart but he hadn't figured that out yet.) As he started coming around more often, he would find more and more reasons to speak with you or be near you. But you were so cold! You would just brush him off, or flirt with him until he was redder than the apple on his hat. But you never really spoke frankly with him.

-You had no idea, but the thought had entered his brain to make a duck modeled after you. When he presented it to you, you could tell he had spent hours working on it. But you just picked up it, looked at it and said thanks as you took it and walked away. Maybe it was because he had never been treated this way before but he couldn't stop thinking about how cold you were.

-Sure, you were a thief (a great one at that), but you wouldn't have anticipated you'd stolen his heart! It had gotten so much that one day he pulled you to the side and asked you if you hated him or if you were just playing hard to get.

-However, you didn't answer. You just looked him in the eyes, kissed him, and flew away. The king of hell never thought he'd fall for a thieving spy, but here we are.

-The two of you are basically inseparable by the time he's through. You might as well be his second marriage.

Charlie

-Charlie was the sweetest target you had ever met. So sweet, in fact, that you had canceled the hit on her hotel's vault personally. How could you steal from someone with such a pure heart? Besides, those were her family's jewels, mainly left to her from her mother.

-Because of your “change of heart” she offered you a job at the hotel! Initially, you were going to refuse, but the subliminal puppy dog eyes she held captivated you. You just couldn't say no to that face!

-Your sticky fingers were almost completely forgotten once you had come to work for the hotel. You never got to do much at reception, however. So sometimes…you'd have a little fun. Usually at Vaggie or Angel's expense.

-If you flew up to the ceiling and found the perfect perch, you could use your echolocation to mess with the hearing for long enough that you could snatch any jewelry they had on. It wasn't always much, however, because eventually they caught on to your little trick and stopped wearing jewelry when you were around.

-Charlie wasn't fond of this either. She would often ask you (albeit politely) to stop pranking your friends! Because if you prank your friends they won't trust you! You didn't really care though, you only stopped because she would pull it the puppy dog eyes. The only reason you actually agreed to stop was she said you could see her most prized piece of jewelry.

-It was beautiful. The most thoughtfully crafted piece you had ever seen; in hell and on earth. It was a necklace left to her by her mother made of diluted angelic steel and 24 karat gold with the most carefully carved ruby heart you had ever seen. She had explained that it had been a birthday gift that essentially doubled as a promise ring.

-She carefully unclasped the chain as she stood behind you in a silent question. You nodded, and she secured the necklace around your neck as she pulled you into a tight hug. It was obvious that you hadn't realized what the necklace had meant and that she'd had to explain it.

-Charlie took your hands into her own as she explained that if you were to have her, this necklace would mean the two of you were promised to wed, and that the necklace functioned as a ring of sorts. Her mother had gifted it to her as a promise to the person she fell in love with, and that she would feel it when they were the one.

-Obviously with your affinity for gems you accepted. She knew you so well.

Vaggie

-To be honest, Vaggie originally didn't like you very much. Mainly due to your sticky fingers. And also because you encouraged Angel Dust's bad habits by swiping jewels from people and pawning them off, and then giving him the money. Which he would obviously use to get drugs.

-It was pretty obvious that you hated rules. To her at least. You basically followed your own moral code and the only thing you ever seemed to care about was gems. Or just doing something to antagonize someone else.

-The one thing she couldn't fault you for, however, was that you hated people who messed with your crew. You might've had a colder exterior like she did, but you definitely didn't just let things slide. You were the silent and sexy but deadly type.

-She kind of warmed up to you, but it took a lot longer than you had expected. You were a huge flirt, and Vaggie was never the type that was good at receiving attention. But once you had seen how cute she was when flustered, you'd tease her every chance you could get. It took a while for her to get used to being complimented, or even just appreciated in general.

-It took some convincing to get you to use your sticky fingers for good. But she admired the fact that you decided to change. For her. Your main deal with her was that you'd only steal from irredeemable monsters (like Valentino) or take from the rich to give to those in need. You really weren't one for charity work, but because of how much you loved and appreciated Vaggie, you convinced yourself it was fine.

-Although you had some hidden talents. Like how flexible you were, and the fact that you could fly. She knew you most likely could because you were a bat, but no one had ever seen you use your wings. And she eventually figured out by the way you carried yourself that you used to be a spy. I mean, your strategies were off the charts, and you were able to get Intel way too easily.

-But these were never bad things. She appreciated that out of all the things you could've spent your after-life doing, you chose to stay with her and the crew at some rinky dink hotel to try and help sinners.

-She could tell you had a good heart inside of you. Somewhere. And she liked that about you.

Helluva Headcanons:

Blitzø

-To him, it was weird to have a bat demon in Imp City, but at the time he wasn't even thinking about that. He was thinking about the piece of jewelry he was missing from around his neck. Somehow, you had managed to walk up to him, snatch his mother's necklace, and walk away without him seeing you. He knew you'd be an asset immediately.

-Originally, the only reason Blitzø had kept you around after the two of you had met was because you had been the best pickpocket he had ever seen. He figured he'd have some use for you at some point, so he had basically set you to the side.

-But after he had hired you and he had to step out for some personal reason, you got assigned to lead. He had seen you at your best, and leadership really was your thing. So you were basically running every mission he wasn't on. And as much as you hated it, you knew he sent you because you were the best strategist out of the entire team.

-However, there was one mission that made him fall for you. It was a heist of some rich piece of shit topside. Which usually wasn't the kind of thing that I.M.P did, but that sinner was paying big bucks, so who was he to say no? However, initially he wished he had; everything was going wrong. He had stepped back into the leadership role for this one, but if he was being honest he was trying to put on a tough guy front to get your attention. Due to his poor planning, the four of you had gotten to the vault, and his dumbass tripped, and set off the alarm.

-You knew how to handle this though; in fact, you'd done it hundreds of times, topside and in hell. Thanks to your hyper-trained agility, you gracefully back flipped and cartwheeled your way through the beams and quickly landed yourself perfectly placed in front of the vault's door. Disabling the alarms just as quick as you had gotten there, the team stared at you dumb founded as you got the door open AND nabbed all the jewels by yourself before they could even walk over.

-Safe to say that at that point, Blitzø knew you were MUCH more than a regular pickpocket. Watching someone have that much grace with acrobatic moves? Yeah he was basically cumming in his pants from how hot you were.

-After that heist he was trying to spend more and more time with you, and less time stalking M&M. He even asked you out to Ozzie's. Twice. But thankfully the second time was because he wanted to go with you instead of being there to stalk your other favorite coworkers.

-Blitzø is pretty much infatuated with you. He might even work up the courage to propose to you. One day.

Beelzebub

-Beel noticed a lot of people at her parties. The only ones that ever got in trouble for anything, however, were the ones that tried to steal. She didn't like thieves. Although if she thought about it she did have an appreciation for gems herself.

-You were about to be kicked from one of her hellhound ragers, but she decided to give you a second chance. You seemed like a decent sinner, besides your sticky fingers. She actually kind of liked your vibe, you had this silent but deadly and sexy vibe going for you.

-You weren't super chatty, but you definitely could out drink most of the hounds at the party. Talking to you even more, you told her about your life on earth, and how you occasionally worked as a government spy. She was pretty impressed, in fact, she had the great idea of hiring you as security for her parties.

-You ended up being a great addition to her crew. Because you worked for her and she liked you, you got to live in the same estate you worked as security for, which kind of made sense if you think about it. The two of you hung out pretty often, and she'd get you presents for your birthday and just all around everyday gifts.

-One of the best gifts she'd ever given you was a hand carved Emerald with your names engraved in the gold. It was 24 karat gold with a rose gold finish, it looked straight out of a jewelry store in heaven. When you told her how much you had loved it, she just laughed and told you it was nothing, and that she didn't mind treating you.

-When the two of you had first met you weren't much of a party animal, but Bee's energy is so contagious in the best way possible. You're still a stone cold spy, but every now and then she'll notice you flirting with someone, and she smiles to herself, happy that her friend is getting to know people, even if you're keeping the cold demeanor up at all times.

-Even Tex likes you as much as she does, which is good, because if he didn't, she'd probably fuck him up. You've become the wine mom when she's sober, and when you're sober she's like your wild daughter. There'll be the occasion where your cold demeanor drops and you show that truly deep down you do care, and she admires you for being that vulnerable with her.

-All in all, y'all love each other so much it hurts, and it'll last forever.

Verosika

-The only reason you had even met Verosika is because of her tour dates being double booked. Had she not been in a rinky dink motel in Imp City, she wouldn't have gotten her stuff stolen.

-Most of it was the usual stuff people stole from A-list celebs; their underwear, their toothbrushes, hell even her flask was gone. But she honestly couldn't even bring herself to give a shit. Because the only important thing was missing. Her Asmodian Crystal was gone. Without it, she wouldn't be able to do any concerts topside for the next few months until she bought a new one.

-It took her a while to figure out where it had went or even how it was missing. She always kept it in her pocket! So who the fuck could've…

-Only one person. There was a bat demon that bumped into her on the way back from the coffee shop. When they had walked away she checked her pockets but didn't find anything wrong. Checking her pocket she found the crystal had been replaced with a fake. Oh she was going to get you.

-It took a lot of swallowing her pride but she was able to suck it up, and go to Blitzø to get him to hunt them down. But, her end of the deal was that she'd pay more to bring them alive.

-You didn't want to admit that it was a shoddy pickpocket job but when you wound up getting tossed through a portal at the feet of demon popstar Verosika, you figured it was over. But, turns out all she wanted was the crystal back. And you could keep your life if you worked for her.

-You basically became her personal pickpocket and her informant. Anything she needed stolen or any info she needed was easy pickings with you around. The two of you actually became friends because of how similar you were. The two of you even robbed jewelry stores for fun sometimes. She knew how much you liked jewels, and you knew how much she enjoyed causing trouble.

-Safe to say the two of you are trouble. You two of you often tag team other demons; the two of you are thieving flirts, not much more to it besides two besties at their best.

Fizzarolli

-Fizz was and always will be a circus guy at heart. So seeing someone with all the qualities needed in a good acrobat sends him reeling. But he quickly realized why you were center stage, stealing the audience's breath away; he was the star. So you had to resort to being the cold-hearted thieving acrobat.

-There were many jokes to be made about the fact that you were a bat acrobat, but now wasn't the time. You would've been a crowd favorite, you were hot, you were amazing at what you do, and you have an affinity for swiping jewels when the audience wasn't looking. That might've been Buckzo's favorite part about your act.

-The only reason he kept you around was that the amount of gems you stole from the audience while he and Blitzø performed made just enough for him to care about whether you were performing or not every night.

-If he was being honest, he kind of liked you. You were cool; you had a good stage presence, you looked cool, and he thought you always managed to steal the prettiest jewels.

-When he left the circus he never thought he'd see you again. But here you are, stealing from Prince Stolas’ personal treasury. Had he not caught you scaling the wall with a giant bag full of gems he never would've known you had even done anything…

-Obviously he didn't rat you out, but he did ask you to catch up with him at a later date. He figured he might as well make the best out of seeing you again for the first time in 10 years. Whatever you had going on had to be better than working for Mammon.

-Turns out, you had some kind of serial jewel robber thing going on. You'd get tipped off by your informant, steal whatever the score was, and sell it off to the highest bidder. His first question was why you decided on thievery, but you just shrugged and told him it was all you really knew. It was how you died, and so it'll be how you live your afterlife.

-You and Fizzy have a pretty good relationship. Childhood besties reuniting is always the best.

[castle-of-ruin]

A/N: Hi! So, this story has been in the works forever. I've always wanted to write for Deacon. I've always wanted to write Bodyguard!Deacon specifically. It's something I've thought about from the very beginning of my journey with Swat. I find it important to clarify that this is an au. The events that take place in this story are completely and utterly my own. They are made up and not true. I hope that, as readers, you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Bodyguard!Deacon x f!Reader

Reminder: This is a bodyguard au. It in no way relates to the actual plot of Swat.

Warnings: mentions of injuries, violence, death threats. There are no explicit descriptions of the readers' body type or other features. Brief use of the word 'her', reader is not named, and there is no use of y/n. Mutual pining, use of the word sweetheart.

Other characters: Jim Street, Dominique Luca, Daniel "Hondo" Harrelson

Word Count - 3.2k

Author's Note 2: If I forgot any content warnings please let me know. Once again I hope anyone who reads this story enjoys you. Feedback, reblogs, comments, likes are all welcome and much appreciated. I'm really putting myself out there by posting this story. It's personal and something I'm so passionate about. Happy Reading!!

Disclaimer: I do not condone people taking my work and reposting it as their own. Do not steal my work.

Adding some visual inspiration for the people who care💕

In the Beginning 

When you first began working with criminals, you never expected your life to be threatened. Sure, there were risks of taking a job like this, but all you were asked to do was to determine whether or not a person was classified as fit to go to trial. That meant oftentimes you had to postpone hearings and trials due to a person's mental capacity. 

You understood how upsetting it could be and you understood why people would blame you for justice not being brought forward. It was easy to empathize with those people, but it didn't mean your life needed to be in danger. 

The first night your life was threatened you were just getting home from a grueling day in the office. Your feet ached and your stomach grumbled. Upon your arrival home you found a note taped to your front door. You tilted your head inspecting the letter before you ripped it off the door. Bile rose in your throat as you read the letter. 

I will kill you for what you've done 

The note was scribbled haphazardly and hardly legible, but you were well aware of what it said. Never in your four years of working had you needed to go to the cops. People you'd worked with time and time again. 

The Los Angeles Police Department was unhelpful when it came to answering your pleas. It wasn't until you went to your childhood friend Jim Street that you were finally heard. 

You hadn't seen Jim in over 3 years. After he left for swat the two of you hadn't had much time to get together anymore. You spoke occasionally, but had no time to really see each other anymore. 

When you showed up at his door he was surprised to see you. The greeting was cut short, you were rushed and scared. As you explained everything to Jim, Luca, Jim's roommate and coworker listened carefully. He was actively trying to think of a way to get you helped out. 

"What about Deac's security business?" He piped in. 

The two of them looked at one another.

They spoke briefly to one another about their old coworker. Explaining to you how Deacon departed from SWAT and took up doing security details full time. You nodded as you listened to them. It wasn't a bad idea, but you didn't know how long it would be before something would take place. 

As if they heard you in your head they had already made the phone call. Luca spoke briefly with someone on the phone, you assumed it was Deacon. Jim smiled softly at you, trying his best to give you some kind of comfort. 

You stayed with Jim and Luca while you waited for Deacon to arrive. You felt safe with them and you took advantage of the opportunity to rest. With eyes closed you lulled to sleep for the first time in days. 

Your slumber was rudely interrupted by a warm hand on your shoulder. The action made you jump, and your eyes searched for the culprit. Jim smiled at you sheepishly, apologizing with his eyes more so than with words. 

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." He told you. 

"It's okay, just, jumpy is all." He nodded his head in understanding. 

"He's here." Jim stated. 

You got up and followed Jim out of the den and back into the living room. Luca talked to another man, you assumed it was Deacon. 

Luca turned when he saw you come into the room. His face lit up, he had already accepted you as one of his people. 

"Hey Deac, this is her." He patted the man on the shoulder and he turned to face you and Jim. 

You hadn't paid him much attention before he turned, but you were shocked to say the least. He was a surprisingly handsome man, and it made your heart pound in your chest. 

In the few seconds before Luca introduced the two of you, you allowed your eyes to trace over him. The hair on his head was mostly gray aside from the occasional dark strand here and there, his beard joined in the majority of gray. The black t-shirt he wore hid no ounce of his muscled form. You wondered if he wore a shirt two sizes too small on purpose.

A clearing of a throat disturbed your thoughts. You blinked rapidly and pulled your eyes away from Deacon. Luca introduced the two of you and you shook Deacon's hand. Heat creeped up your neck as he stared down at you, with a soft smile. 

The smile slowly faded and he crossed his arms over his chest becoming serious. 

"Luca tells me you need some protection? Care to explain the story to me a little bit?" He asked. 

You nodded, and took a seat on Luca and Jim's couch. You explained the story to him as thoroughly as you could. Jim grabbed your shoulder in comfort a couple of times when the emotions overwhelmed you. 

"This isn't the usual detail my team and I take on, but you're a friend of a friend. I'll make sure you're safe. I'll work on this personally." He nodded to you and to Jim. 

Tears welled in your eyes. 

"Thank you Deacon." He smiled and nodded again. 

"Of course. Now, first things first. You need a safe house of some sort while I work with my team to track down the people after you. Is there somewhere you can think of that won't be public knowledge?" He asked you. 

You thought about it for a moment before you nodded. 

"I do.”

Present 

The cabin air was frigid as you made your way back inside. Placing the firewood in its rightful place you take a piece and set it on the fire. Rubbing your hands together you enjoy the warmth seeping into your skin. A car pulling into the driveway draws your attention away from the fire. 

Getting up you make your way to the window on high alert. Your guard falls when you spot Deacon getting out of his car. You watch as he scans the area before coming to the front door. He knocks twice on the door and you go over to it to open it. 

When he enters he hands you the bag in his hand. 

"What's this?" You ask. 

Deacon smiles softly, "Dessert." He states and you peer inside. 

Your smile widens upon seeing apple pie and vanilla ice cream in the bag. 

"Damn, Deacon, I'm surprised you got something so unhealthy." You laugh. 

He shakes his head, "I eat ice cream." 

"Doesn't look like it." You mutter to yourself. 

"What did you say?" He asks. 

"Nothing. Ignore me." You shake your head. 

Taking the bag into the kitchen you unload everything into the freezer.  You notice dishes still left over from this morning in the sink and go over to wash them. Under the running water your thoughts drift over the past 2 months. 

It felt like nothing was happening. You felt stuck, and frozen. Like a prisoner with nowhere else to go. This was meant to be for your own protection, but being stuck in your family's old cabin in the woods was driving you to madness. Plus, being stuck here with Deacon, alone for all hours of the day was testing every amount of strength and willpower you have. Which was just about none when it came to the older man. 

Since the beginning of month 2 things have felt different between the two of you. In month one Deacon wouldn't even sit on the same couch as you. He always sat in the chair furthest from you at the small table in the dining room, and he never looked at you for a moment more than necessary. 

Now, something was different.

He sits next to you on the couch and actually joins you when you watch tv. Now, he doesn't hide his lingering gaze, nor does he sit in the chair furthest from you when you eat. The subtle changes in his behavior drove you mad. 

From the very beginning you were heavily attracted to him. Now, even more so. 

"Hey," Deacon's voice draws you from your thoughts. 

"You okay?" He asks. Coming forward and leaning against the counter. 

Your eyes are drawn to the way his arms bulge as he crosses his arms over his chest. You gulp and look away. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

He chuckles and leans forward, your breath catches in your throat as you look up at him. He switches the water off and leans back against the counter. You let out a breath and close your eyes. 

"You were washing the same dish for 10 minutes. Obviously something is wrong." He states. 

"10 minutes?" You ask and he nods. 

You let out a deep sigh and grip the edge of the sink. Tears well in your eyes and you decide not to hold them back any longer. You let yourself cry and put your head in your hands as you lean on the sink. Deacon touches your back and you allow yourself to lean into it. He rubs soothing circles on your back and allows you to cry. 

After a while you sniffle and wipe your face. 

"I'm sorry." You wipe at your eyes and look over at him. 

His smile is sad as he looks at you. Deacon swipes a stray tear from your cheeks and cups your face in his hand. He leans in as if he's going to kiss you but, then the moment is broken when something clicks in his head and he pulls away clearing his throat. 

"Don't be sorry. I'm gonna go contact my team. See if there's any updates." With that he exits the kitchen. 

Fuck. You think to yourself.

For the rest of the day Deacon avoided you like the plague. It made you feel even worse than you already did. Loneliness pangs in your chest as you sit on the couch and aimlessly scroll through the channels. 

Deacon busts into the room and you jump. 

"We have to go now." He states, throwing your jacket at you. 

Jumping to your feet you throw the jacket on and follow Deacon to the back of the cabin. You grip his jacket tightly in your hand trying to stay close to him. He turns and looks at you, pressing one of his fingers to his lips. 

He opens the door quietly and inches out slowly. Deacon grasps your hand in his and drags you out into the woods. The two of you run for a while before he stops. 

"You see that ridge up there?" He asks pointing. 

"Yes," You pause looking at him. 

"Go. Get up there and hide. Don't come out until I come get you." He instructs. 

You grip his arm. "Deacon, what if you don't come back?" 

He grips his phone in his back pocket and places it in your hands. 

"Call, Street. Tell him where we are. Tell him to send the team." He states. 

You nod, with tear filled eyes, and trembling lips. Releasing his hand you take off up the hill and hide. Pulling Deacons phone out of your pocket you dial Jim. 

"Hey Deac," 

"Jim, it's me. Deacon told me to tell you to send the team. Hurry Jim. I'm scared." You sob. 

"Where are you?" He rushes out. 

"Near the Oregon border." You stutter out. 

"Keep the line open, we're tracking Deac's phone." You nod, but he can't see you. 

Gunshots could be heard in the distance. Tears fall freely now, rolling down your cheeks. 

"Got it, we're on the way. Stay hidden." He urges and the line goes dead. 

You pull your knees as close to your body as you can trying to hide away in the dark nook. The gunshots fade in the distance and your heart races faster. Every part of you wants to run and see if Deacon was okay, but you listened and stayed put.

After what felt like forever a helicopter could be heard overhead. Staying in your hiding spot you close your eyes and hope they make it to you soon. You were freezing. 

After a few more minutes you could hear voices and footsteps. Some shouting out how many people were dead, others asking where Deacon was. You heard Jim's voice in the distance calling for you. Now you got up from your hiding spot and went tumbling down the hill. You ran as fast as you could back in the direction of the cabin. 

"Jim!" You yell his name when you finally see him. 

He comes running towards you and you slam into him. Hugging him tightly, tears once again falling freely. His hand goes to the back of your head as he holds you close. 

When you pull away you search his eyes seeing if they hold anything. 

"Where's Deacon?" You ask. 

There it was. Jim averts his eyes from you for a brief moment. Something the normal eye would never pick up. You grip his arm tightly. 

"Jim please, tell me." You beg.

"He's alive, but he's been shot. Plus some other injuries. He wasn't conscious when we wheeled him out of here." He tells you truthfully. 

Your shoulders sag. "Is he going to be okay?" You ask. 

"We don't know yet. Come on, let's get you out of here." Jim wraps his arm around you. 

"But, it's not safe." You stop. 

"It is now. Has he not told you?" Jim asks. 

You tilt your head. "What do you mean?" 

"Deacon, and his team were able to locate the men who threatened your life. He had me, Hondo and the rest of the team go in and take them down." He pauses for a moment. 

"Some got away. They had found your location and we couldn't get to them before they left. We were just barely able to warn Deacon before they showed up." He finishes. 

You haven't cried this much since your childhood pet died when you were 16. A part of you died that day with him. Now, here you were crying over a man you may never get to see again because he too might be dead.

Jim leads you to the helicopter and helps you get in the seat before doing so himself. You watch the land below get smaller and darker the higher into the air you go. Jim grabs your hand and squeezes it for a moment. You know it was him trying to comfort you. Jim had never been good at that. 

Being able to go back to your home felt wrong. It was crazy to think that two months living in the unknown would change your entire view on your life. You desperately want to go to the hospital to see Deacon. Make sure he's okay for yourself, or see for yourself he's not okay. 

Jim agrees to take you to the hospital. Upon arrival you notice how many people were there for Deacon. He was held in high regard amongst his former teammates. It was a sight to see. 

Someone calls your name and you look in the direction of the voice. The man you knew as Hondo approaches you. 

"We've heard a lot about you. It's nice to finally meet you." He tells you with a genuine smile. 

You nod, unable to form words of any kind. Your throat was sore and scratchy. Making it feel impossible to speak at the moment. You need water. Once again reading your mind, Jim appears with a bottle of water in hand. You smile thankfully at him. 

"Thanks." You croak out.

You find a seat and wait with the rest of the people in the waiting room. The hours tick by as all of you wait for an update on Deacon. 

Three hours after you get to the hospital a doctor comes out of the OR doors. Everyone stands, and the doctor's eyes widen. 

"Are all of you here for Mr. Kay?" He asks. 

Everyone nods. The doctor takes his glasses off and wipes them before adjusting them to his face once more. 

"He's going to be fine. Recovery will suck, but he will recover. Gunshot wound, cracked ribs, fractured arm, the list goes on. It's a good thing he has all of you." He nods. 

"Can we see him?" Your quiet voice pokes through the crowd. 

"It's after visiting hours, but I can allow one of you back." He states.

You expect someone to go back and see him, but when no one does you step forward. Jim nods at you. You found it odd the people who have known Deacon the longest would allow someone who's only known him for two months be with him while in this position. 

The doctor nods and gestures for you to follow him. He leads you down the hall of hospital rooms and stops when he reaches Deacon's door. 

"I'll have them bring in some blankets and pillows. If you don't plan to stay, let me know." He states. 

"No, I'm staying." He nods and leaves. 

You examine the small hospital room. The monitor beeps to the rhythm of Deacon's heart. This is the first time you've seen him in over 5 hours. You weren't sure if you ever would. 

Taking him in you frown at the sight of him. A bandage on his left cheekbone, busted lip, a splint on his right arm. He was a mess, all because he was protecting you. 

You pull the chair over to him and sit down beside him. 

"Damn you, Deacon." You whisper. 

You grab his open hand into your own, looping your thumb around his. He didn't close his hand around yours, but that didn't matter. Feeling his pulse thump in his wrist was enough. You lean your head down and place it on the bed, closing your eyes. Allowing yourself to take in his warmth. Meaning he was very much alive. 

A nurse enters the room and gives you a soft smile before setting up the small bed in the corner of the room. You silently thank her. Your eyes snap to Deacon when you feel his fingers wrap about your hand. 

His eyes are just barely open as he looks at you. 

"I'm sorry." He croaks out. 

"Sorry? Why are you sorry." You raise your eyebrows at him. 

"Scaring you." 

"Deac, you saved my life. You have nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who needs to apologize. I'm the reason you almost died." You grip his hand tighter. 

He laughs, then groans in pain. 

"It was my job sweetheart. You don't have to apologize either." He reassures you.

"I guess we both need to stop apologizing." You laugh out. 

"I guess so." He gives a small smile. 

You rub his arm softly and he watches you do so. 

"You should get some rest." You tell him as you stand up. 

He watches as you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek. Your breath catches in your throat as you linger a moment longer contemplating things in your head. His beard scratches your cheek as you loop your arm around his neck in an awkward hug. 

"I'll be right here if you need me." You tell him. 

He nods. Flicking the light in the hospital room off you make your way to the small bed in the corner and try to sleep. 

"Goodnight Deac." 

"Goodnight Sweetheart.”

Tagging a few who may want to read it : @obiknights @chelseasdagger @streakyglasses

A big big thank you to @spnshortcake for encouraging me to post this. I'm grateful for you. Thank you love ❤️.

[nebulousbrainsoup]

Can I please request DomMommy!Seonghwa X sun!fem reader!

Smut please!

1) I've never done this before

2) I'll take care of you

Thank you!!

this is the third time i've had to restart this reply i'm gonna scream

you sure can! this fic got away from me a little bit, honestly. i tried to keep myself from just using these two lovely prompts as a call and response to each other, and i managed it, but it did drive the word count up.

i hope i did mommy!hwa justice for you! enjoy!

nsfw tags under the cut ; masterlist | join my taglist

Relax.

fulfilled as part of my 150(ish) followers event, open through June 16th.

PAIRING: bf!seonghwa x f!reader GENRE: smut, filth, pwp TAGS/WARNINGS: established relationship, language, ash's mediocre editing, no use of y/n; lmk if there's anything else! most of the warnings are nsfw oops WORD COUNT: 1.6k (i blacked out idk what happened) A/N: baby's first (published, out in the world, oh god) smut fic!

NSFW TAGS/WARNINGS: dom!hwa, sub!reader, slight bdsm with an established dynamic, excessive use of pet names (baby, baby/sweet/good girl, sweetheart, angel), mommy!hwa, mommy kink, use of mommy as a title, bondage, sensory deprivation via blindfold, use of the color system as safe words, seonghwa's tongue, oral (fem receiving), light impact play for about two seconds overstimulation, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, begging, male masturbation for about two seconds, sex, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids); lmk if i missed anything!

You could tell it had been a long day for your boyfriend from the moment he walked through the door. Seonghwa’s shoulders were tensed nearly to his ears, and you could see the muscle in his jaw twitching. Gingerly, you pushed yourself off of the couch and made your way to him as he kicked his shoes off, reaching a hand out hesitantly.

“Welcome home,” you murmured gently, and immediately, his eyes locked onto yours. You froze, the intensity behind his gaze locking you in place. “L-Long day at work?” you offered with a nervous laugh and a tight smile.

He hummed something that sounded affirmative as his fingers wrapped around your wrist, and with one quick step and a tug that drew a surprised yelp from you, he had you pulled flush against him. The hand at your wrist slid down to wrap around your waist as his free one cupped your jaw, drawing you in closer until your lips met his. The heat behind his eyes was mirrored in the kiss, leaving you breathless as you melted against him.

“Very,” he muttered in reply when he’d finally sated his hunger for your lips, shifting to rest his forehead against yours. “I need to relax,” he sighed, an undercurrent of suggestiveness lacing his words as a smirk formed on his lips. “Think you can help me with that, baby?”

Your knees went a little weak at his words, your hands coming up from your sides to brace yourself against his shoulders as you nodded eagerly. He had always affected you in a way no one else did, lust clouding your mind with even the quickest of comments or slightest looks. 

Like the one he was giving you now, for instance, one eyebrow cocked and eyes narrowed. “Use your words.” 

“Yes, Mommy,” you answered immediately, once again nodding as your hands began to slide down his body toward his belt. “I can definitely help you relax.”

The warmth in his smile contrasted with the quick, tight grab he made to your wrists, stopping your movement and holding them against his chest. “You’ll be a good girl for me, then, right? You’ll listen to mommy and let me have my way with you?”

Again, you nodded, eyes wide as you kept your gaze locked with his. “I will.” 

“Good,” he practically purred, settling your hands on his shoulders and returning his to your waist. “Because I want to try something new.” 

You squirmed against the mattress, tugging fruitlessly against the silk ties binding you to the bedpost as you watched him pull a scarf  from the top shelf of your closet. Your clothes had been discarded the moment the bedroom door closed behind you, and you couldn’t help but feel more exposed than usual watching Seonghwa, still fully clothed, pick through the toys you had collected together. He cast a glance over his shoulder as you whined softly, amusement sparkling in his eyes and a soft smirk tugging at his lips. “Be still, baby girl.” 

“But Mommy—”

“No buts, sweetheart, be good for Mommy.”

Huffing a sigh, you flopped back against the bed, pouting as you stared at the ceiling and kicked your feet for good measure. The small tantrum pulled a quiet chuckle from your boyfriend, and you glared up at him as he came back into view above you, leaning into your eyeline from the side of the bed. “What’s with all that, hm? Why’s my angel throwing a tantrum?” 

“Want you to touch me,” you murmured, barely loud enough for him to hear.

“Behave, then. I want to make this enjoyable for you, too. You know I can’t do that if you’re being a brat.”

Breathing another defeated sigh, you nodded gently. “I know.”

“Then why are you acting like that, baby?” He asked, eyes wide and earnest. “Do you want me to punish you? You know I don’t like to.”

“Nervous,” you murmured, and when he didn’t respond, you sighed and spoke again, this time louder. “‘M nervous. I’ve never done this before, with the… I’ve always been able to see you.”

For a moment, Seonghwa frowned at your admission, and you felt a warm hand settle on your thigh as he perched on the mattress beside you. “Can I have a color, my love?”

“Green,” you replied quickly, and the crease between his brows disappeared. 

“You’ll be okay, I promise. I know it’s a little scary, but Mommy’s right here. You trust me, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

God, the way you looked up at him could have sent Seonghwa to his knees. Wide eyed, spread open, entirely trusting in him and whatever he had planned for you. “Good, “ he grinned, bringing the silk scarf in his hands up and over your eyes. “Then lay back and let me use my sweet girl to relax, okay?”

You couldn’t help but squirm a little, heat coiling low in your belly as he secured the blindfold behind your head. “Yes, Mommy.” 

It had to have been hours at this point, you were sure. Your legs were shaking violently around Seonghwa’s head as his mouth continued to work magic over your core, tongue flattening against your core and dragging a pitched whine out of you. 

“Mommy, m–mommy!” you cried, hips twitching underneath his firm grip. Whether you were vying for more or less of the onslaught of pleasure, not even you knew. “Need more, n-need to cum, please.”

He growled against you and delivered a sharp smack to your thigh, lighting a shudder up your spine and forcing another sob from your lips. Sealing his own around your swollen clit, he sucked on it harshly, pulling off with a quiet pop and a sigh as he sat back on his knees. You were a sight to behold like this, flushed, bound and whining, the blindfold over your eyes soaked through with your tears. He could look at you like this for days if you’d let him. With a silent sigh, he wrapped one hand around his flushed cock, pumping it slowly as the other ran down your inner thigh. Your muscles twitched under his touch, and he smirked to himself.

“Mommy.”

“You know the rules, sweetheart. You cum on my cock or not at all.”

“Then give it to me, Mommy, please!” you whined, tugging at your restraints and squirming under him. “Need it, need to cum, need you to fuck me, please, Mommy,” you babbled on mindlessly, and pride swelled in Seonghwa’s chest. He made you this way.

“Is my precious angel needy?” He cooed, the hand at your thigh moving to cup your cheek, his thumb swiping away a stray tear that had fallen past your blindfold.

“Uh-huh,” you sniffled, nodding urgently. “Needy for Mommy’s cock. Need t’be fucked. Need… need to cum, please. Been a good girl, I—”

He shushed you as his fingers slipped under the fabric blocking your sight, pushing it up and off of your face. You squinted up at him, readjusting to the dim light of your bedroom, and he nearly crumbled at the sight of your bloodshot, tear-filled eyes. It was a feat of stunning willpower to hold himself back, but he was determined to hear you beg for him one more time.

“Ask nicely, baby.”

Your legs dropped open wider as you stared up at him, all watery, wide-eyed innocence that contrasted your wrecked state beautifully. “Please, Mommy, will you give me your cock? I need it so badly, I need to cum, please,” you whimpered, tugging at your restraints again.

Groaning lowly, he quickly shifted up to kneel between your thighs, settling them on his hips as he lined himself up with your entrance. Another quiet whine left you as you squirmed against him. “Hush, baby girl. Mommy’s right here. I’ll take care of you.”

He paused for only a moment before pressing into you in one fluid motion, forcing a heady keen from you and a quiet groan from him. Within seconds, you were squirming against him again, seeking some form of friction to chase the release he’d been denying you all night. Chuckling lowly, he ground against you, delighting in the frustrated noises of pleasure he dragged out of you. “Wanna… need… fuck me, Mommy, wanna help you relax.”

“You already have, angel,” he cooed, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “Now it’s your turn. Mommy’s gonna fuck you to sleep.” 

His gaze hardened as he pushed himself back on his knees again, gripping your hips roughly and dragging them flush against his own. You were given no time to adjust to the new, deeper angle, as he began to make good on his promise, fucking you roughly down into the mattress. You choked on your moans and sobs as your mind went blank, save for the feeling of your boyfriend pounding into you mercilessly.

“M–Mommy,” you gasped, eyes rolling back in your head. “Feel s’good.”

“So do you, angel,” he muttered, gaze locked on the cock-drunk grin on your face. “And you look so good, too, taking—fuck, taking me so well.”

“L–Love Mommy’s dick, wanna c–cum on it, please…”

“Then do it, baby, you’ve earned it.” 

His permission was all you needed to go careening over the edge of your pleasure, your walls clamping down around his length as you wailed, back arching off of the bed. Seonghwa let out a deep moan of his own as he fucked you through it, rhythm faltering as he nearly tipped over his own climax. He couldn’t help but laugh quietly as you blinked back up at him, dazed, a sleepy and satisfied smile on your face. 

“Thank you, Mommy,” you murmured, melting back into the sheets with a contented sigh.

“You’re welcome, angel,” he replied, grinding against you and earning a confused whimper, “but you’re not asleep yet, so I hope you don’t think I’m through with you.”

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© June 2023 nebulousbrainsoup | all rights reserved. reposting and translating of author’s work is prohibited.

[robins-egg-bindery]

ever in your favor by @iron--spider

Peter startles awake when someone shakes him. 

“Sorry, honey,” May says. Peter blinks a couple times and she comes into focus, her hair pulled back from her face. She’s trying not to look a certain way, but he can see it in her eyes anyway. She clears her throat, keeps talking. “But it’s…” She glances away, wets her lips. “You gotta get ready.”

He remembers what day it is, and his heart beats like a drum at someone’s execution. But he tries to put on a mask, make it all seem normal. It’s everything but, despite the fact that he’s been dealing with reaping day since he was born, between himself, Ben and May. That fear that one of them could be taken away. Sent to surefire slaughter. But now Ben is gone, taken despite never having his name drawn from a bowl, and May’s finally safe. Now Peter’s name is in there alone. The last Parker sitting on the chopping block. He doesn’t know how to be. He doesn’t know what normal is, when the Hunger Games are looming on the horizon.

fic by @iron--spider

art by @angel-gidget

624 pages / 153,984 words

Title Font: PP Hatton, Rustic Printed

Body Fonts: Californian FB, Moonglade, Bebas Neue, War Is Over, Architects Daughter

More on the process below the cut!

I have...SO much to say about this project! This fic was one that I've wanted to do ever since I started fanbinding, and it was one I saved until my technical skills caught up with my vision for the book. @iron--spider is my favorite author and a wonderful friend, and I wanted to be able to do this masterwork justice!

Given that it's a Hunger Games AU, I wanted to touch on the Hunger Games aesthetic while still being unique. I started with the cover; I knew I wanted red and yellow, something bold and evocative of the Iron Man, Spiderman vibe. It also doubles as an implication of the blood spilt during the games, especially in volume II - when Peter actually enters the games. I chose the spider for the cover, and painted it on the cover paper with inky black paint; I cut a stencil, and while the images did have some drippy areas, I don't mind it so much. It's meant to look like graffiti, Peter's symbol that the people of the Districts scrawl everywhere they can get away with it.

In turn, I also experimented with a paint pen on this one of the titling, done on the spine piece, which is black Better Than Goat leather! Again, I went in with a stencil, and opted for blockier letters, like something you might see spray painted onto a wall.

The endpapers are custom; I messed around with a weird cityscape I found and came out with the image you see above. The setting for the games is a futuristic city, much like MCU NYC would be, complete with an Avengers Stane tower.

And then of course, there's the typeset itself! The Hunger Games books don't have particularly striking typesets, but I did go for the dystopian vibe with the Rustic Printed font on the chapter numbers, and Moonglade for the chapter titles, giving it a very industrial feel.

It was also a pleasure to include the art that @angel-gidget did for the fic as well! Her book covers are so gorgeous and I love her manip style so much <3 I also included the short drabble @iron--spider did on her Tumblr, a post-story snack-sized fic, as well as a meta question she answered via her asks that I thought was particularly interesting. The District guide at the back, including what Districts each character belongs to and whether or not they are deceased was interesting to put together, and I hope I didn't make any mistakes!

Last, but certainly not least, this book was the first one I was able to do really nice headbands on. Shoutout to @morningstarbindery who helped me learn how! They look phenomenal and I never would have figured it out on my own <3

I'm excited for everyone to see these books! One day I'll have all your works on my shelf ;)

[angelshimaa]

warm simple mornings w kuroo please !! 💟 (u can add others too ahihi) either gn or fem is oki love u angel

━━ 𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐘 ;; 𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐎

✧ cw :: gn!reader, fluff, maybe an ooc!kuroo (first time writing for him), reader is called 'baby' and 'darling', kuroo is called 'tetsu'

✧ a/n :: hi rae!! thank you so much for sending this in, i hope i've done him justice <3 feel free to ask for a redo in case you don't quite like it <3

the morning sun shining through the curtains is what greets you first when your eyes open slowly, trying to ease gently out of sleep. your senses awaken one after the other, and once you're awake enough to understand your existence, you hear deep, even breathing.

a smile drags itself across your face as you shift, turning to be met with your boyfriend's face. his dark hair looks like a mess of a mop, unruly in how it covers some of his face. kuroo looks so peaceful— and for a moment you think about flicking his forehead, just to see the surprise he'd wake up in.

you chuckle to yourself, choosing peace and favouring laziness as you stay in bed a little longer, watching him.

“quite creepy to watch me in my sleep, darling. am i that irresistible?” kuroo muses.

his voice still thick with sleep as he blinks awake, his narrow eyes on you. they're such a pretty brown, warm like this morning and almost golden.

“no— you snore, quite hard to look away from such noise.”

his lips pull upwards slightly as he smiles slowly— your lie seems to amuse him. “do i, now?”

“mhm,” you nod. “like a grandpa. sounds like an old motor that just won't start. or a chainsaw. or a pig. or—”

you earn yourself a small laugh from him. “such violence so early in the morning— and i didn't get so much as a 'good morning' first.”

your grin is fully formed by now, forever charmed by your combined silliness. “good morning, tetsu.”

his long arm reaches out and drags you closer to him as best as he can.

“good morning, baby. what, no good morning kiss for the love of your life?” tetsuro teases and your grimace makes him grin wider.

your hand reaches out to try and take through the mess of his hair. “not with that morning breath, mister. brush your teeth, then we can talk.” you let your hand slide down to cup his cheek, and he turns to place a kiss against your palm.

“after a while, baby— let's just cuddle for a minute, yeah?”

there's no urgency in this specific morning, nowhere you both need to be. you hum your agreement, and as lazily as the morning that lay before you, you both shifted until you were comfortable, with your head against his chest and his arm around you.

as far as you and tetsuro are concerned, the day has yet to start. as his fingers trace up and down your arm, you begin to wonder if it ever really will.

✧ — thank you for reading !! rbs and feedback are greatly appreciated <3

[ohcaptains]

You should be so so proud of yourself, oh my goodness!! I started following your works a little before you hit 2k, and to get the privilege to see how much you've grown, how much you've done, and the absolute art you capture in your writing has been astronomical. You deserve this and more, I hope you take some time to treat yourself and truly acknowledge how talented you are! Thank you for sharing your gifts with us 💚

If you're still taking requests by the time I send this (hopefully you're not too overwhelmed with submissions) could I ask for something involving Carmy? I absolutely adored the pieces you wrote about him and how you were able to grasp how complex he is. 💕 I've had a bunch of thoughts involving him and face-riding, overestimation, or squirting because a friend of mine and I were talking about how his need for perfection and drive to push the limits in the kitchen might carry over to the bedroom and I would love to see your take on it! If this isn't something that interests you, I would love to see any thoughts you have to share on his character!

Whether you choose write it or not, I hope you took the time to read this just to know how appreciated you are.💚

Congratulations again! You deserve the world *mwah* 😊

okay noah fence but this message was so lovely. thank you, angel. I'm so incredibly grateful that you're still here. I hope I've done your request justice<3

Carmen. Carmen was an enigma that you wanted to figure out. Now and then, he’d give you some clues. An inch of the truth, and you’d cling to it, desperately hugging it, until it would reveal something else. One of those things was the admission that he was a perfectionist, and that perfectionist quality bled into all things.

“Carmy,” you whisper, the tone of it high pitch and cracking. Pushed from the back of your throat, finally managing to get the word out. You pair the word with your fingers tightening in his curls, the blonde/brown mop of his between your thighs. That, plus the push of your hips, arching into his mouth, feet shoved into the mattress, trying to get him closer, trying to get him to stop – not sure which one you want.

He's been at this for hours. Well, minutes. Feels like hours. But 3 times was a good endpoint. Four? Now that was being greedy. You guess that’s another thing you can put to him – Carmen was greedy. Well, greedy when it came to you. The thought makes your skin heat and makes you all gooey inside. Then, his big, bumpy nose is nudging at your clit, and you’re gasping, the sound a strangled, shocked sob.

“Carmy!” you repeat, louder, this time. He doesn’t answer, though. Too busy taking his time – too busy pushing his tongue into your hole, and dragging it upwards, between your wet, puffy slit, then circling it around your clit. You jolt, clutching his hair tighter. Clutching the duvet, too, to keep you to this plane of existence.

“Fuck – okay, okay, okay, okay,” you breathe, trying to self-soothe. The grumble of what sounds like Carmen laughing echoes through you. “Asshole,” you spit, and he laughs louder, now. Fumbles about and gets onto his knees.

“Jesus.” You watch the whole thing, thankful that you’ve got some reprieve, but this is worse, somehow. Better, even, as he braces his arms around your hips and lifts you, ass coming off of the bed, your fingers scrambling for something to hold onto before he’s back where he started – blue, bright blue eyes alight as he works you over with his tongue and sweet, pink lips.

“Think you’re—fuck, m’god –” your eyes roll back, and you forget what you were about to say. Something about being too good at something, but the thought goes to purgatory as heat pushes at the back of your clit, again. This time, though, it’s hotter and heavier. Tight, your body tense as it readies itself for something else.

“I’m – Carmen.”

You’ve lost your thought again.

He speaks, words muffled by the wet of your cunt. “Don’t be silly, I’m carmen.” “Shut up.” “Mm, mean,” he mumbles, glancing at you for a brief second. A second too long, really, when you see his lips and cheeks glistening with you. “Don’t know why I like you so much.” “’ cause I let you eat me out for hours.” He hums a laugh, “it hasn’t been hours. We’d be on number 10 now if it had been hours.”

You note how he says we. Note that he’s counting. “Can’t take ten, can barely take four.” “Guess we’re about to find out, huh.” “Please be—” you take a deep breath, cunt clenching together and mouth falling open. A loud, unkept moan comes out, and Jesus, If you were watching Carmen, you’d come right there. His face goes red. Beams with accomplishment.

“Please let me do this forever.” “Okay,” you gasp, not hearing him, but your fourth orgasm is gunning for you, threatening to take you under and never release. You fumble for his hair. “Okay,” you repeat, brain blanking, going to goo as he pushes his pointer finger at your swollen hole. Pushes inside, and you’re clenching around him, tight and unyielding.

“Please lemme come,” you sob, looking down at him with pleading eyes. Mouth open, tongue coming out, burning all over. You bump your pussy against his mouth, the scene so hot and desperate that you swear it’s not happening to you. But it feels all so real. Real, as Carmen sucks your clit into his mouth, and pushes his finger deep inside of you, in, and out, rolling and you don’t have time to warn him.

Hits you, and it’s wet and hot, spreading over his mouth and cheeks and god, soaks his chin, too. Carmen licks you clean. Groans and mumbles through the whole thing, and you swear, somewhere in there, you hear a thank you.

[moash]

hello don't mind me i was just mass liking your posts! i hope you're having a great day i hope you don't mind this ramble but i feel you'd understand :)

so basically i've had a super long .... beef with the series so far about how it's handling racism/classism and their roles in the story so i was like hey, let me do a little fix it project! because after reading OB i was just disappointed with how it handled kaladin's arc (he's my favorite so i want to see him done justice) but also moash's arc.

anyway, i was rereading parts of WOR to get the details right, and re-reading Moash talk about what happened to his family and how he just returned and they were all gone BROKE MY HEARTTTT. i also noticed how he was so ready to put in the work during training to get good at using swords and shardblades. like he had CONVICTION to succeed and i loved that about him.

so moash literally went from a character i didn't mind on my first read to becoming one of my favorites and now i just get so upset thinking about like how the series is painting him so far. i bring this up because i was like dang, if i'm this pressed about it, i can't imagine tumblr-user-moash's feelings about it. anyway here's to hoping that SA5 does him justice. also moash for bondsmith is brilliant. also thank you for defending him 😌 sorry if this is repetitive but do you feel optimistic that a redemption arc could happen for him in SA5?

mass likers are like being visited by angels, i love youuu 💕 and i would love to read your fix-it if you ever post it 👀

as for sa5. haha. i try to keep really optimistic about it. i am a writer myself and everything that i believe about writing good stories tells me that he basically has to be redeemed, even if it’s right before his death (cliche, but it would at least still fulfill the assignment). right? because the themes of redemption for the entire story would be just completely thrown out in a major way if he wasn’t, not to mention that every moash pov chapter that revealed his complex feelings about his choices and his current situation would have been made essentially pointless and time-wasting. like i don’t see from an objective writing standpoint how the story could be good if he wasn’t redeemed, and that keeps me going more than anything else, because while i have a lot of issues with sanderson’s writing, i don’t think he’s just plain stupid, right? so yea, that’s what keeps me going.

however!!! he has really dropped the ball with regards to racism/classism/etc in stormlight, so while this would i think be his biggest fumble yet, it’s not entirely impossible to see some truly bad stuff happen in moash’s arc in sa5. but i try to keep optimistic and keep my expectations relatively low (like death bed redemption would suck but i guess i would ultimately be ok with it, sigh)

sorry that i forgot to answer this for so long, and thank you for stopping by!! 🥰💕

[statelysapphic]

Thank You For The Music

Larissa Weems x Fem!Reader

Summary: Larissa finds you in the music room late one night. Song Fic.

Warnings: None, but let me know <3

A/N: Hi friends! I finally wrote a Larissa Weems fic, and I hope I've done her justice. This is lightly edited. As always, feedback is appreciated. Thanks for reading! <3

Ao3 Link

“I’m nothin’ special, in fact, I’m a bit of a bore.”

Larissa stopped in her tracks. Her eyes narrowed as she shifted her gaze to the door beside her, slightly ajar. Yes, this was the music room. But the voice she heard producing the melody was not that of the music teacher. And at the late hour, she hoped it wasn’t a student.

“When I tell a joke, you’ve probably heard it before.” 

The voice. Angelic, unfamiliar. Captivating. Raising an eyebrow, the Principal tiptoed toward the door.

“But I have a talent, a wonderful thing,” 

You do, Larissa thought to herself, feeling entranced by the music flowing from the room in front of her. 

“‘Cause everyone listens when I start to sing, I’m so grateful and proud. All I want is to sing it out loud,”

Without realizing it, the Principal moved closer and closer to the source until the mysterious musician was in view. Her jaw dropped. Although she wasn’t sure whom to expect, she definitely didn’t expect it to be you, the new History Teacher at Nevermore Academy.

“So I say thank you for the music, the songs I’m singing,”

As you belted out the chorus, still unaware of your boss’s presence, Larissa began to feel somewhat guilty. She had been so busy with her duties as Principal that she really hadn’t gotten to know you, though you had been here for a few months now. Outside of the hiring process, the only interaction she had with you was when you asked to include a few Normie History lessons in the curriculum, to which she was more than willing to oblige. She knew what you looked like on paper, but not you. And whether or not she was ready to admit it, Larissa wanted that. 

“Thanks for all the joy they are bringing. Who can live withou-“

Larissa had shifted slightly, causing the floor beneath her to creak loudly and you to stop singing. The blonde held her breath, feeling her face warm as she watched your body tense and turn to face her. She had been caught, and well, so had you. 

“Goo- Good evening, Principal Weems,” you manage to choke out as you feel your anxiety begin to rise, immediately thinking she’s here to reprimand you. “I hope I haven’t disturbed you; I realize it’s quite late.” 

“Please, darling, call me Larissa,” she said, “And no, you haven’t disturbed me. I’m just thankful you aren’t a student,” she chuckles, “because you saved me a lot of paperwork.” Larissa smiles softly, hoping to ease the younger teacher's mind. “I am curious, however, as to why you are teaching History instead of music. You have a lovely voice.” 

Larissa moved further into the music room, quietly shutting the door behind her before she sat on a folding chair adjacent to the grand piano. “Well, I supposed music has always been more of a hobby,” you offer, “that, and most Normie schools don’t cut funding to the history department.” Larissa burst into laughter at your nonchalant response. You decided then and there that it was the most wonderful sound to ever grace your eardrums, and you’d stop at nothing to hear it again and again and again.

“I suppose you’re correct,” she replied, still chuckling to herself. A comfortable silence fell and hung only for a moment before she asked, “Care to finish your tune? Abba, was it?” Gesturing to the piano. “For me, of course.”

“Su- Sure.” You nodded, body stiffening. A wave of panic crashes into you at the prospect of performing for your boss. You closed your eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, reminding yourself that she had already caught you singing, and if she hadn’t enjoyed it, she wouldn’t be asking you to continue. Larissa watches intently, taking note of how quickly you squandered your fear. The way your shoulders dropped, your back straightened, and your fingers flowed across the ivory keys.  

As you began to play, Larissa found herself mesmerized by the soft but confident timbre of your voice. No, she didn’t know you well. But she did know that it took a specific type of Normie to apply for a position at Nevermore, especially after the incident that occured the previous school year. Your resume stood out to Larissa, and your experience and education put you miles ahead of other candidates. But it was your acceptance of and respect for Outcasts that made her choose to hire you. However, it was the intensive background search Sheriff Galpin conducted that truly solidified your position on the Nevermore staff.

As the song came to an end, Larissa lightly clapped her hands together, offering you a toothy smile. “You’re quite talented, Professor,” she affirmed, “And might I say, I’m quite impressed at how well you’ve acclimated to life here. Though the students were apprehensive about welcoming another Normie teacher, they speak highly of you.” 

“You’re too kind, Larissa.”

“I mean it,” she asserted, raising her brows, “You’re a fantastic addition to our staff.” Her words wrapped you in a warmth you hadn’t felt in years. A small grin tugged at the corners of your mouth. 

“Thank you, Larissa, that means a lot coming from you.” For a moment, you found yourself lost in the womans eyes. And though you weren’t certain, she seemed to have done the same. A comfortable silence fell between the two of you. Something about it felt familiar, which caused you to begin playing once again. Nothing in particular, just a relaxing melody to fill the empty space. 

You glanced up at the older woman. Her head leaned slightly to one side, eyes closed, and the softest grin painted her face. You couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking about, given her body language. Not an ounce of stress in sight. She looked beautiful. You have a lot of respect for Larissa and what she does for the school and for her students. A few minutes pass and you decided to wrap up your tune when you noticed your boss begin to yawn. A feeling of pride settles within you knowing you were able to relax the woman. After all, she was alo awake at this unholy hour. 

“Would you like to accompany me to the Weathervane for a hot chocolate on Saturday morning?” Larissa asked. “I realize I haven’t taken much time to get to know you, and I would like to change that.” She paused, gaining the confidence to add, “There’s also a lovely little book shop around the corner that I think you would adore.”

“I’d like that very much.”

“Wonderful.” Larissa stood from her chair and gracefully made her way to the door. Silently, you admired the woman before you. Her gentleness, benevolence, beauty, and hospitality all at the forefront of your mind. Although you had yet to learn the intricate details of her life, you knew the type of person Larissa Weems was. And you were falling in love already. “And get some rest, will you?” She asked, smirking and raising a brow. “Goodnight, Professor.”

“Goodnight, Larissa.”

[omg-whathaveidone]

*I'm re-sharing this in the wake of another horrific tragedy. We must learn from past pain...we must never forget.

"The jury’s verdict will never blind the world to what we saw on the videotape" April 29, 1992

I recently had a bit of a reality check when I was asked who Rodney King was by a grown adult, who was literally a year old when Los Angeles rose up. I don't want to describe what happened in 1992 as "rioting" because to me it was an awakening. I wasn't much older than an infant at the time...I was a tween. And I grew up in Ohio...so far removed from life in a huge California city. But the impact of being a child and witness to the chaos and racism will live with me forever.

As a tween, I was still sensitive enough to understand the pain I saw on television and the fear mixed with absolute righteous anger. The violent assault of Rodney King by police footage is so ingrained in my mind that I can still almost hear the ABC news reporters dissecting each awful baton swing caught on a grainy video. It still gives me chills and that's probably why I am still having difficulty understanding the experience of someone who would never have an emotional connection to that horrible day or the days following the verdict in Los Angeles.

During our discussion, my acquaintance asked a seemingly innocent question after I reviewed what happened in April 1992.

"And what was the jury's reason for acquittal?"

His question rang in my head because I had to explain that we had no internet. No one could question the jurors or the media to push for more information. The decision was just....done.

I've been thinking about that moment when he asked this question for days. Our society had absolutely no way to push for accountability in 1992. Voices were ignored by entire systems. People were dehumanized as props. Rodney King's despair and heartbreaking plea for us all to just "get along" was mocked for years. There was no "calling out", there was no organizing of young voices nationwide for mass protest, there was only an infinite void of injustice. And that is why Los Angeles was at a breaking point.

The context of this crucial learning point has been so misconstrued since the nineties. It makes me wonder if folks, specifically well meaning activists, who are the same age and younger than my acquaintance really see the political connections. Those who have mostly lived outside of systemic racism or who have benefitted from it may not see the similarities. The racist mantras of "inner-city violence" that are used against the current movements to protect black and brown lives were the same ones back in the nineties. Unfortunately, the rising of LA was used as "proof" in support of more racist stereotypes and are currently used in rhetoric by the right wing. There is no legitimacy to any such mantras yet I see social justice movements still being thwarted by these old tropes.

So...I guess the reason this whole conversation sticks with me is because of how quickly the real lessons of history are lost. And this is by design. Critical race theory isn't taught in a book. It is learned by sharing experiences and remembering the lessons of our pain and triumph. And I say this as a woman of color with a Master's degree in Humanities. I could never teach someone straight facts of something like April 1992. It had to be felt. And I hope that we all remember to share those feelings so we never really forget.

[panandinpain0]

can I request some fluff for Edward with a gn reader? I just really had a bad day and it's so draining having to deal with constant mood swings of other people 🧍 so just some comfort if that's alright?

"Long Day?"

I've had a pretty bad day too, Anon, it'll be okay <3

Fluff/Comfort Edward Cullen x GN!Reader

Warnings: Swearing

--

Twisting their head back and forth, pops coming from their tense neck, (Y/N) opened the door to their apartment. It was a shabby old thing in Forks, Washington, but they'd had a long day in Port Angeles.

Letting out a long sigh, (Y/N) kicked their door shut, dropping their keys in the bowl next to the door and kicking off their shoes. They slowly started taking off their jacket, eyes drooping, before catching onto the figure in the kitchen doorway.

"Oh, dear God!" (Y/N) exclaimed, gasping and holding a hand to their chest, rolling their eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." Edward didn't sound the least bit apologetic, an amused smile playing on his lips as he walked towards (Y/N) and helped them take off their coat.

"It's fine, I just didn't hear you," (Y/N) mumbled in response, rubbing their eyes and yawning.

"Long day?" Edward asked, ready to hear all about it.

"Don't even get me started. What is it with customers treating employees like they're below them?" (Y/N) started walking to the kitchen, getting themself cereal in the dimmed room as Edward followed.

"All day I've gotten complaints on everything I've done- even though I know I've been doing them right! Ugh, and my coworkers seem to think my sole purpose in life is to listen and help them with their problems. Katy today kept trying to get me to talk to her boyfriend for her, can you believe that? There's no sense of professionalism, you have no idea how much I want to tell her I don't want to be her friend..."

(Y/N) continued to rant, sending Edward the most hilarious facial expressions that had him holding back a laugh, opting to nod sympathetically instead. It wasn't that he didn't think their problems were legitimate- that's not it at all. He honestly didn't like seeing them all worked up, but the sense of domestic-ness in the situation brought him peace. He would listen to them everyday for the rest of his life if they'd let him.

Finally, huffing as they set down the milk on the counter, (Y/N) regarded Edward closely.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be complaining-"

"Don't even start that," Edward interrupted. He stood up from his place in front of the counter and walked around it to (Y/N), taking their face in his hands. "I did ask, and you know I never mind listening."

(Y/N) sighed, unsure, but shook their head. "How was your day?"

"Boring without you there," Edward suavely responded, winking.

Snorting, (Y/N) put the milk away and picked up their cereal.

"Wanna watch a movie while I eat?"

Edward merely hummed in response, wrapping an arm around their shoulders and walking with them to the living room.

Turning on the show they'd been watching together, Edward sat down rigidly on the couch. (Y/N) sat down inches away from him, leaning into his body and pulling a blanket over them both (though they knew it'd do little for Edward).

Slowly Edward relaxed, and the two stayed in the warm cushions long after (Y/N)'s cereal bowl sat discarded on the coffee table in front of them.

Speaking of (Y/N), they were snoring on Edward's shoulder, fast asleep as Edward rubbed their arm soothingly. He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on their forehead, closing his eyes. If he'd ever wished he could sleep before, it had never been as strong as it was now.

End

--

Hope I did your request justice, Anon!

I channeled a lot of my shit into this and honestly I feel comforted- so at least it helped me 💀

-Author Max <3

[grailknightmonty]

it starts and ends in a garden.

i keep coming back to the good omens mianite AU so have a funky little illustration :] I just. I just love them a lot

Ref + what story I've thought about below the cut!

(Spoilers for Good Omens S1 and S2 ahead, be wary if you haven't watched and wanna get into it without prior knowledge)

At its core, this AU is basically good omens but with the cast of Mianite, with a few revisions to tie it a little into the mcytverse (while also not like compromising the integrity of the show version of the story) I got inspired by AdamMonter's AU and decided I wanted to give it a go myself after i watched S2 and reawakened my fixation :D

Jordan is this universes Aziraphale- the angel stationed to guard Eden and look out for humans (intended to instill in them the ways of goodness through righteous balance and justice in the name of the High Goddess) - and Tom is Crowley, or the snake in within the Garden, sent up to cause chaos and tempt humans towards evil shenanigans in the name of Dianite, or the devil in this case. They stand on two opposing sides of whats meant to be an all out war between Heaven (under Ianite) and Hell (by Dianite) on whether Ianites form of order (borrowing this from Aitheaca) or chaos will reign supreme- or basically the big ol apocalypse. I made Mianite the Metatron because idk what else to do with him mianite im sorry i didnt wanna make ianite the metatron if i swapped it even though it would make more sense for mia and dia to be fighting SOBS

Tom n Jordan grow close over their centuries on Earth together that when everythings meant to go down and destroy the world they've made their own, they fight to stop the apocalypse from happening, and by the end of it, are subsequently punished by their respective sides- only to not be affected and left alone when they seem to have absorbed the powers of the other (no one seems to realize they can swap bodies). Series 2 follows what they uncover by the end of it a plot to restart armageddon, in which they want Jordan to take over as the head of it after the former champion/supreme archangel is ousted for disagreeing- and had shown up with a non-existent memory nonexistent at Jordan's.

(im switching to list im done with prose xD)

Jordan runs an antique shop instead of a bookshop, he seems like he'd be more into little trinkets and old school machines, stuff he could tinker with. its still got that certain charm to it though

Capsize is Nina from the coffee shop (give me coffee or give me death seems like a thing Capsize would name something) and Sonja is Maggie who runs a record shop. aka the lesbians from across the street you know what I am

For something hilarious Tubbo is the Antichrist, aka the child meant to start and lead the War (leaving it as is bc its funny but not the literal antichrist) He's meant to join a government family to put him in a place of power, but due to a mix up ends up with an In the meantime, Tom and Jordan act as godfathers to the other child (who they assume is the antichrist, it would be funny to make this Crumb or something) in hopes that influencing them to good/evil respectively would neutralize them out- only to eventually realize its the wrong kid

Wag is Anathema, the descendent of a prophetic wizard who was scrutinized for their foresight and becomes the carrier of those prophecies (for my sanity ive chosen to get rid of the Newt-Anathema romance thing idk it. it just aaaa and turn into wag and his bros aka FyreUK tryin to use what they know to stop the apocalypse from their end)

Angels are Ianitees (save for Capsize), and Demons are Dianitees. Ive gone back n forth with who would be who and I still have no answer so. all I'll say is that Andor is Muriel thats all thats important /j C:

The other option was to make Satan the Darkness/World Historian and Dianite is the Lord of Hell (Beelzebub) with Mot as Gabriel but do i look like I know? idk do we need ineffable bureaucracy i could always alter that a little too... idk

tubbo as the child of the world historian who wouldve thought… edit what if like carrier of the darkness

anyway thats all enjoy this nonsense ;)

and screenshot I referenced for the drawing! I know its low qual dont worry about it i just needed to see where the trees were so i knew how many to paint LMAO