#had this idea in my head and couldn't not write it

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hello 👋 if requests are open do you think we can get another of The Summoned Demon? I've never seen a take on Danny being misunderstood and speaking a different language after a summoning and I'm really excited to see where you wanna take this. If not don't worry about it I have a vivid imagination hahaha

Take care of yourself man, this is also your mandatory water and food break ❤️

Danny runs for what feels like hours but is probably only a few minutes, attempting to find the exit of the caves. This would be easier if he could go ghost, but for some reason, his powers were disrupted when he tried to change into Phantom back in the cell.

He didn't know how, but the weird lights had messed with his core. It was almost like an invisible hook had attached itself to his navel. The thing yanked his power into the floor and walls, causing them to explode.

Thankfully, when the strange writing had vanished, a bit of his strength had returned, allowing him to tear through the stone bars. He couldn't go ghost, but at least some of his powers were accessible.

He had super strength, night vision (which would have been really helpful the day he was kidnapped!), and a few energy beams. It could be a better skill set, but if needs must. If only his Phantom stamina could transfer over.

Right now, he was using Fenton Stamina. There was a reason he was failing P.E. It showed how he was gasping for air, kneeling by one of the stone walls.

"Must...huff...find...exit....huff huff....escape!" Danny pants, attempting to crawl forward. "Must....check with a doctor about possible asthma...leg cramp! leg cramp!"

It wasn't going well.

Danny grips the meat of his calf, curling into a tight ball and silently screaming at it. The pain is annoyingly rippling across his whole body, causing his muscles to tense to the point he can only sit there and wait for it to go away.

All the while, he was mentally swearing up a storm.

After a few minutes, the muscles relax enough for him to feel some relief. Slowly unclenching his hands- afraid that if he got too quickly, the pain would return- Danny stretches out his leg. The ache is a distant echo as he slumps against the stone.

"I'm going to die in here," He whimpers. "I'm going to die from a kidnapping cult that thought it was a great idea to wait after my math test to take me."

While Danny wallows in misery, two glowing figures flout out of a nearby wall. A woman who looks to be wearing an outfit straight from the pilgrim's age and a man who may have once been a gentleman in the early ninety-thousands.

Danny's eyes widen at the blood staining the woman's head and dress. It's evident from the crack that runs along the right side of her skull. The man, meanwhile, looks more normal if it is not for the way one of his legs is twisted sickeningly.

"This one is young, " says the woman, shaking her head in pity. "It looks like he hurt his leg."

"I know how that feels," the man sighs, flouting until he is mere inches from Danny's face. "It doesn't seem he's been down here for long. Maybe there is hope someone will find him before the starvation hits."

"What do you mean starvation!?" Danny yelps. The two glowing people flinch.

The man gapes at Danny. "You can see us!?"

"Yeah? You're ghosts, right? I'm part ghost on my mother's side." Danny jokes, only seeing the woman cross herself before doing a slight hop and pointing at him with clear disgust.

"Witch!" She stretches, dragging out the syllables. He a bit impressed by how she puts her whole chest into that yell. Hell, he's even a little envious with how low she got her voice too.

"Not now, Mary," The man hisses at her. He reaches to touch Danny, but the boy avoids the contact, afraid of being overshadowed. That earns him a smile that seems oddly approving. "It's nice to meet you, lad. My name is Harold McConnell; I was an explorer attempting to map out Gotham's caves when I was separated from my crew. I broke my leg in the dark and starved to death. This is Mary, no last name. She and her family were moving from different American colonies when they passed over Gotham, and their carriage fell when the ground gave way. She died upon impact."

Dang, okay. Harold is oddly forward. Danny knows most ghosts are well aware of the specter's unwritten rules: Never bring up another death or share yours until a deep bond has been made.

A bit flustered Danny placed a hand on his chest, ensuring his fingers were spread so that they know he was a friendly ghost. He was not after their haunt or territory. "I'm Danny Fenton. Yesterday I was kidnapped by a cult from my classroom. They had me in warehouse then in a stone cell in a near by cave I escaped them but ended up gettng lost."

Marry lowered her hand, eyes wide. "A cult brought you down here?"

"Yeah, and I'm afraid they will find me," Danny mutters, looking over his shoulder. He can't see or hear anyone, but that does little to reassure him.

Harold's face tightens. "There are many monsters in this city."

"We can show you the way out," Mary offers, flying closer. Danny does his best not to stare at her gruesome features. It would be vulgar. "Does being half ghost- or a witch- make it possible for us to carry you?"

Danny blinks. "I think so, but I can walk-"

"Nonsense," Harold grunts, reaching out and lifting Danny from the floor. He throws him over his shoulder like he was picking up a flour sack. Danny squeaks. "Goodness, I forgot how it felt to hold something. I miss this."

Danny starts to protest, but Harold merely bounces him with a laugh, twisting around where Mary is flouting. "Onward!"

Mary smiles, floating alongside them. "We can go through the west caves to where my skeleton is. There is an opening that should lead to the center of Gotham's suburbs."

"Good idea, Mary," Harold compliments, flying right behind her at a much faster speed than Danny's running. "Listen, lad, we can't leave the blasted caves, but we can stare through openings. The suburbs are the safest place for you to pop out of."

Considering that his only other option is a mad group of cultists, a kiddy pool of blood, or a full ghost status from being lost in the caves, Danny doesn't mind.

He is saddened that they are anchor ghosts, though he suspected as much from the way neither had noticed his Infinite Realms mannerism. It means they are doomed to only wander the areas of their death, forever trapped in their sudden and abrupt demise.

"Thank you for helping me," He says, staring down at his hands. He can see the ground past him back, aware of the way Harold's muscular arms wrap around him without any warmth but not lacking in kindness. "I wish I could take you with me."

"That's a sweet thought, little one witch, but it's alright." Mary says, "We've come to terms with our fate. We even found love."

Danny peaks at her, noticing how adoring she is regarding the ghost, and she can't help but smile. "You two are together?"

"Aye. Mary comforted me in my final hours." Harold responds in a voice as fond and adoring as Mary's: "She was my reward for how I perished."

How romantic.

"I hope I find love like yours," Danny tells them just as they round a few corners and come to a deep drop. The remains of a carriage and five skeletons rest at the very bottom, making him heartache for the fact she had likely been alone with their bodies for centuries.

Mentally, he makes a pack to come back for the bodies and give them a proper burial—once he has his powers, of course.

"I pray that you do," Mary says, keeping her gaze away from the pit. She points upwards to a whole in the cave's ceiling, a few streaks of light peaking through. "Up there, my love."

Harold obediently flies upwards, twisting Danny so the boy's back is to his chest and his hands are supporting him on his bum. Danny's face turns red. "Sorry, lad, but something is covering the exit. I can not touch it, but you should be able to. Kick it until it breaks. It should only be a few layers of grass."

Danny coughs. "I'll try my best."

He kicks upwards, pressing himself into Harold so he has more leverage for throwing his legs upwards. They make contact with a heavy thump, his super strength giving him an edge.

"Donkey kicks, lad!" Harold shouts, "Both legs, nice and even."

He pulls his legs back again, putting more strength into his second kick. It shakes the ground above him as bits of dirt fall through, and the light streaks grow. Danny's legs go through once, twice, and on the third kick.

Danny cheers as the ground above him collapses, falling into the pit below. It's a reasonable-sized hole, just big enough that he will be able to squeeze through, but thankfully, the rest of the ceiling seems sturdy enough that he won't accidentally cause a sinkhole.

"Good job!" Mary cheers, clapping her hands. Harold lets out a deep and joyish laugh, helping Danny straight up by holding his waist and lifting him up through the hole.

He struggles to keep Danny upright when Mary swoops in, lacing her fingers and supporting Danny's feet. Her added assistance allows the ghosts to push him upwards, away from the darkness and into the light.

Danny rises from the ground with a laugh so cheerful he doesn't think he's ever been this happy to see sunlight, even when it blinds him.

It takes a couple moments to adjust his eyesight, stepping out of the ghosts' hold onto solid ground, but he can smell the sweet grass below his feet. He hears the tender psss of a meat on a girl. The alluring aroma of hotdogs-

Wait a minute.

Danny's eyes finally come into focus, and he stares into the faces of a surprise family just about to sit down for a BBQ. His eyes find the face of a very familiar teenage boy looking increasingly horrified by the second.

"Hey, you're the cult pants guy!" Danny shouts at him, twisting around to look down at Harold and Mary. "One of the cult sacrifices is here! I think he escaped, too!"

"Solitary!" Harold yells back, "You have more strength in numbers!"

"I don't know how he can help me since last time I couldn't understand his language- oh! Er, hello?" Danny looks down to where the teenager is once again, clinging to his feet, babbling in his fast-paced language. He presses his face against Danny's leg, rubbing himself there, and the Halfa is quick to try to push him away. "Dude! Dude! Personal space!"

"My word!" Mary calls up, scandalized. "Danny, will you force this young one into being your bride?"

"What!? No! Wait—" Danny looks back at the scene where Mary is once again making that same disgusted face while Harold is offering him a thumbs up and an eyebrow wiggle. "You can understand him!?"

"Yes, can you not?" Harold responds.

"Not even a single word. Would you mind translating for me?"

"I can let you know what he is saying, but I'm afraid the living won't be able to hear us." Marry cautions, sounding strangely apologetic and relieved in the same tone. "He's attempting to bargain for his family's lives in exchange for being your bride."

"Why would he assume I even want their lives or him!?" Danny yelps, finally untangling himself from the teenager and putting in some much-needed details. He makes a x with his arms, hissing when the other guy makes a move to follow him.

"Hard to say. He's not making a lot of sense- it's just pleas for a bargain.," Harold shouts, speaking louder now that Danny has moved away from the hole's edge. "It is best to put some distance between you and him."

"But what about you?"

"Don't worry about us; we've been here long enough. Escape while you can and be safe!" Mary yells over the cries of the rest of the family, who seem to have finally snapped out of their daze.

Danny looked at the two adults, the one pre-teen and a crying five-year-old, and decided he did not want to stick around for more screaming in a language he could not understand. "Thank you for everything you've done for me, Harold, Mary!"

"You're welcome!"

"It was a pleasure lad!"

Quick as a whip, Danny twists on his heel, racing for the fence and leaping over it. He's suddenly grateful for all the times he would sneak into Tucker's house as he clears over the wood in one smooth tug up and over, hitting the ground running.

He ignores the cries of the other humans behind him as he sprints down the surprisingly lovely suburban street.

___________________________________________________________

Jack Roux's hands shake as the demon disappears from view. He thought Batman had a handle on the cult and was free. But obviously, that wasn't the case.

When the ground first started to thump, he thought their garden had a mole or something, only to have his blood turn to ice when the ground gave way. Rising from the ground was the very demon that he had seen only two days ago.

His mother quickly ran to his side, wrapping Jack in her arms, sobbing uncontrollably. His dad stood in front of him, likely wanting to be a shield between Jack and the demon. His little siblings crowed around crying in fright.

It had come back for him, even though he had assumed it was kind and likely was going to go after the others.

If I had been alone, Jack thinks, thankfully his father's quick thinking and fast-paced prayers had scared the thing away in time, I would have been taken again.

It's a bone-chilling thought.

[the-lying-heavens]

"Pick One Moment"

[Spencer Reid x fem!reader]

Masterlist

Summary: A rough case in Dayton, Ohio brings unexpected emotions to the surface for you, forcing you to confront feelings you'd been hiding for years—feelings for Spencer Reid.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, moment of awkwardness

Word Count: 2.0k words

A/N: just based on the lyric 'And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like I love you...I love you' from the song Something Stupid by Frank Sinatra because it's been stuck in my head. I've been planning to write Spence for a while but I've been intimidated.

Staying professional in Dayton, Ohio proved to be a challenge.

It had been a rough case, but what case wasn't, right? Just have to wrap this one up and you can go back to your house and dog.

Okay, fine, this wasn't like most cases at all, not to you anyway. This one had hit particularly close to home. And you didn't like that one bit.

This made you more short-tempered than usual, even snapping at a witness. After a lengthy lecture from Hotch, I mean from the look on his face you would think you had insulted him, he had 'benched' you by having you go through old files that might be related to the UnSub.

Hey, at least you got to do it with Spencer.

After working with him for so many years, you grew quite fond of him. Too fond maybe.

You stared at him going through files with a speed that should not have been human. 20,000 words at a minute, and you thought you were a fast reader.

"Got anything yet, Boy Genius?" you asked, flipping the page of your own file.

He looked up at you. God those eyes...

"No. This one isn't even related to it." he dropped the file on the table.

"Didn't you read the entire thing?"

"Yes," he replied, "It was interesting."

"You find everything interesting."

"Not true," he protested.

You rubbed your eyes, sighing. "Sure, Spence."

He tilted his head at you, a look of concern on his face. Adorable.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

You considered lying, you had been doing that the entire time you had arrived in Dayton after all, but decided against it. "Not really."

"Is it about your family? I thought this case might bring up some bad memories."

You couldn't help but smile at how quickly he had gotten it. "Yeah, something like that."

"Can I help?"

"Can you make memories go poof?"

He actually seemed to ponder it. "No. I'm not sure why you would want to."

"You never wish that you could just forget the bad stuff?" You knew what he had been through, you had seen quite a bit of it.

His brows furrowed. "I don't like the idea of forgetting anything. I mean, Mom forgets enough so I remember for her too."

You realized your mistake and winced. "Spence... God, sorry."

"It's okay," he reassured you. "You're remembering a dark time in your life, it can be overwhelming. Also explains you snapping at the witness, with your nerves on edge."

"Yeah?" You grinned. "It was going to be Morgan but the asshole left before I could. So collateral damage."

He laughed. "He's outside if you want to insult him now. I don't want to be collateral damage too."

"You? Never."

"Never?"

"Never," you repeated.

Oh, how you loved his lopsided grins. "Thank you."

"Always." If you could pick one moment to live in forever, it probably would've been that one.

Minus JJ coming through the door right then. "We got something."

You wanted to throw a file at her. Instead, you get up with a heavy sigh. The sooner you get this done the better, you had to remember that.

~~~

The BAU was heading back to Washington tomorrow, so you could leave this far far behind. Finally. This case taking up two weeks of your life was enough.

You sat at a cafe next to the hotel where you were staying. It was a cozy little place with a mostly brown interior and warm lighting. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries filled the air.

You sipped your drink, feeling the cup's warmth in your hands. You had been coming here for the past few days and you had to admit, you would miss this place.

Just then, the door opened, and in walked someone you recognized, glancing around the room before spotting you. With a smile, Spencer made his way over, pulling out a chair across from you.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked.

You smiled back, gesturing to the seat. "Not at all."

He sat down and looked around. "So this is where you disappear to?"

You hummed in confirmation. "it's a nice place to think."

He stared at you for a while before nodding thoughtfully.

"What?" you sipped your coffee.

"Just... Are you feeling better?"

You shrugged. "Yeah, UnSubs behind bars. What more could I want?"

"Closure," he replied quietly.

You pressed your lips together tightly. "It's fine Spence. I'm alright with it."

"I don't think you are."

"Spencer," you said, a hint of warning in your voice, "You want to help, I get it. But not with this. Okay?"

It was an unspoken thing, the way Spencer always seemed to know when you needed space and when you needed someone to push just a little. He respected your boundaries, but there were moments—like this one—when his concern slipped through the cracks.

He sat across from you in that quiet cafe, watching you. You couldn’t tell if he was waiting for you to speak or if he was just giving you the time to process, as he always did.

It had been a rough case, yes, but that wasn’t why you were still here, staring into your coffee like it held all the answers.

Your eyes flickered up to meet his. He was still staring at you, quietly, as if he could see past your walls.

"Spence," you said, your voice quieter than you intended, "I’m fine. Really."

He didn’t respond immediately. His hand rested on the edge of the table, and you could see him fiddling with his fingers. That subtle nervousness he only ever seemed to show when he wasn’t sure what to say, but he knew he needed to say something.

"I don't believe you," he murmured, his voice soft but insistent. “I’ve seen you too many times to believe that everything’s okay, especially when it’s not. You’ve been holding it in, and I know that—"

"Spencer—" you started, but you were too late. He was already talking over you, his voice getting faster.

"Please. I just want to make sure you're alright, okay?" He sighed, his eyes briefly darting away before looking back at you. “I just... I care about you."

Everything felt very... loud. Too loud.

He looked at you expectantly, almost uncertain. Maybe, just maybe, he was waiting for you to make the first move.

You cleared your throat. God, you really hated moments like this, when everything inside you seemed to tremble at the prospect of just being honest.

His hand shifted on the table, and before you could stop it, you had reached out to touch his fingers. It was the smallest of gestures—barely noticeable—but it was enough.

For a long moment, you simply looked at each other, the conversation hanging in the air. There was so much unspoken between you, so much left unsaid. Maybe that was the problem.

Before you could stop yourself, the words spilled out of you, quicker than you could catch them. "I love you."

Spencer's face went completely still, his eyes wide as he processed your confession.

You had not meant to say that. You didn’t. It was an accident. You weren’t ready. You weren’t ready to put that kind of pressure on this, on him, on whatever this was.

But the words had slipped out anyway. You stared at him, feeling the heat rise in your face, hoping the ground would swallow you up.

"Sorry-God, I'm sorry," you quickly got up and rushed out of the cafe.

He just sits there. Frozen.

If you could pick one moment to rewind, it would be this one.

Oh, you fucked up big time.

~~~

You had never been more ready to get home, but unfortunately, there was an hour and thirty minutes on the private plane. With him.

Usually, you would spend an entire flight, after a case well done, talking to Spence. But after yesterday? But not this time. Maybe not ever.

You could feel Spencer’s presence beside you, but he was quiet. So quiet. Not the usual playful banter, no sudden bursts of random trivia or observations. It was almost like he was giving you space... or maybe he was just too uncomfortable to say anything.

Your eyes flickered to him once, twice, each time hoping for some indication of what he was thinking. He was staring out the window, a far-off look in his eyes, his fingers curled loosely around a book in his lap. For a moment, you almost felt the pull to apologize again, but the last thing you wanted to do was make him feel obligated to comfort you. You had put your foot in it already. Now, it was time to ride this out and pray it didn't become permanently awkward.

But Spencer, as always, was unpredictable.

"You don’t have to apologize," he said, his voice quiet, but it still carried across the cabin, cutting through the engine's hum.

You stiffened, eyes fixed on your lap. Had you been that obvious?

"I wasn’t going to," you said, a little too defensively.

He didn’t respond right away. You could feel him looking at you, the weight of his gaze making you want to curl into yourself.

“You know I care about you, right?” He said it so gently, like he wasn’t sure how you were going to take it.

You felt your chest tighten. Care about you. Those words. He was still speaking, still looking at you, but it was hard to focus on his words because everything was spinning around that one sentence.

"I do," you replied. You had to stop yourself from saying more—there was more you wanted to say, needed to say—but you couldn’t. Not yet. Not until you figured out where your head was at, where you both were at.

Spencer shifted in his seat. He didn’t look hurt, but there was something in the way he held himself. Maybe he was just holding back, afraid to push too hard, afraid of what that push might break.

You finally took a breath and turned to face him. He was still watching you, his expression a mix of concern and... something else. It was the something else that had you questioning everything.

"You don’t have to say anything," you added quickly, "I just...said something stupid. I didn’t mean to make things weird."

Spencer didn’t break his gaze, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Not his usual goofy grin, but something softer. More real. Something... intimate.

"It’s not weird," he said, his voice still quiet, "You’re not the only one who gets nervous around here, you know."

You blinked at him, genuinely confused. "What do you mean?"

His smile flickered, a small laugh escaping him before he adjusted his posture and leaned back in his seat. He seemed less tense, more at ease, "I’m just saying... I’ve had my own share of... feelings. I just didn’t know how to... deal with them."

Your breath caught in your throat. Spencer had feelings? For you?

The question hovered between you like an unspoken truth, but it seemed too risky to ask outright. Instead, you glanced down at your hands, the heat rising in your face.

And then, finally, you said something else, the words coming out quieter than you intended: "Do you think... we can just... forget it happened?"

You almost expected him to shrug it off, to offer a playful remark about how awkward it was or how maybe you'd both laugh about it someday. But he didn’t do that.

"No," he said softly. "I think maybe... we should talk about it. When we’re ready."

Your heart fluttered. Was this... was this him telling you he was ready? That maybe he wanted to figure it out too? Or was this Spencer, as usual, just giving you a window to process everything at your own pace?

You weren’t sure. You weren’t sure of anything. But you couldn’t deny the weight of his words, the connection that had always been there and that seemed to grow stronger the more time you spent together.

"I’m not great at talking about feelings," you admitted, looking over at him sheepishly.

Spencer chuckled softly, a breath of amusement. "Yeah, I’ve noticed."

You gave him a sidelong glance, your lips twitching into a reluctant grin. “Smartass.”

"Hey, you started it," he teased, finally breaking the tension just a little. "And I’ll finish it. But not right now. I think... we both need time to think."

You nodded slowly. He was right. You both needed time. The last thing either of you needed was to make rash decisions while emotions were still running high.

"You’re not mad?" You asked it before you could stop yourself, the doubt creeping in.

"Mad? Why would I be mad?" Spencer’s face was open and sincere.

"I don’t know. I just..." You didn’t finish your sentence. What was there to say? How could you explain the mess of emotions you were still trying to sort out?

He reached out across the seat, almost as if he was testing the waters, and placed a hand gently on yours. The touch was brief, but it sent a spark of warmth through you.

"I’m not mad," he said again, more firmly this time. "Not for that."

You were both quiet for the rest of the flight, but the silence between you felt different—more like an understanding, like a promise that when the time was right, you’d figure it out together.

It wasn't the one moment you would pick to stay in forever, but it was a moment you didn't mind being in for the rest of the flight.

[zoomiesgroupie]

live fast die hot; frat!kyle x fem!reader

warnings- pure smut with no plot, switch kyle, switch reader, unprotected p in v, probably terrible writing, not proofread

a/n- this is my first time writing smut, so please be nice ☹️🙏 also thank you @slut4evanpeters for the idea :3

Kyle and you are two drastically different people. Kyle's almost the epitome of a party guy; he's a social butterfly who absolutely thrives on the energy of the people around him, while you, on the other hand, are certainly not any of those things. you ended up together nonetheless, gravitating towards each other like god damn magnets. like so, he convinced you to go to one of his frat parties. it was a halloween party, costumes and all.

deciding to throw yourself knuckles deep out of your comfort zone, you decided to dress up as a bunny.. but oh no, not just any bunny. much to kyle's dismay, and pleasure, you were wearing the sexiest costume he'd ever fucking seen.

seeing you clad in the tightest white laced corset, the skimpiest skirt connected to the mouth watering sight half ripped garter ... how could you expect him to keep his eyes off of you? not to mention the cute bunny ears to match.

sex with kyle isn't a constant. he's never really one to initiate, a mixture of his abnormally low sex drive and his fear of coming off as a creep stopping him.

he couldn't help himself tonight thought, not when you'd been teasing him all night. you're such a little minx. sitting on his lap at any given opportunity, brushing against him just right.. giving him those eyes. fuckin hell.

bunching up your skirt, his leaking tip delves into the plush of your walls. his free hand instantly finds yours, the prettiest moan slipping past his lips as his fingers intertwine with your own.

shoving his head against your shoulder as he bottoms out, lips parted, he takes in the downright pornographic mewls that bubbled from your throat.

you could help it, the stretch of his cock leaving you breathless and wanting. you couldn't even remember when he'd taken you up to his room, too engulfed in him to even care.

"m' sorry- gotta move.. fuck- m' sorry-" he blabbered out, eyebrows furrowing as his hips found a brutal rhythm.

the squelch of your cunt was enough to silence any thoughts he'd managed to have, mindlessly pulling out to drag his tip along your swollen clit before stuffing himself back into your pillowy confines just to hear your little mewls.

"fuckfuck- oh 'm god-" you all but whimpered out, the sound of your soft pleading voice shooting straight to his already aching cock. "yeah? 's that good, m' I doing good?" he babbled, wrapping his free hand around your waist just to stuff himself deeper into your weeping pussy.

you clung to his body, jolting with every one of his merciless thrusts as your nails bit at the muscle of his shoulder, thighs clenching at his waist to keep snug against yourself.

his sweat-slick skin stuck to yours, the desperation of his hips racking your body. he couldn't focus on anything other than your gummy walls clenching him like you wanted to swallow him whole, groaning out your name as he partially made out your desperate please.

"kyle- please.. fuck- please, m' so close!" youd squeal out, just for kyle to unlink his hand from around your waist, pushing between the plush skin of your thighs to find your sensitive bud.

all was fine until his hips stuttered, a desperate whimper leaving his lips.

"oh.. HAH! fuck.. m-" he whimpered out, followed by desperate cries of your name as you flipped him over.

"yeah? you like that? fuck.. look at you." you teased, gripping at his shoulders to steady yourself. your hips met his with renewed vigor, the stretch of your walls leaving you breathless.

the mixture of praise and degradation had kyle throwing his head back, his blunt fingers digging into the soft skin of your back. "yeah, yeah- fuck, please let me cum.. m' gonna cum" he all but whispered out, each breathy word punctuated with a desperate cry as the pad of his thumb found its way back to your clit.

eyes a flutter, brows furrowed, your abdomen twists into a knot, bubbling with a familiar heat. seeing kyle like this, so desperate and needy, begging to cum was a sight for sore eyes. "you wanna cum? so bad huh? wanna cum inside this pussy huh?" you attempted to tease, but the swell of his cock and the pressure on your clit choked out your words.

suddenly being met with desperate bunny humps, the whiny sounds of your name, and the sight of kyle fucked out and wanting.. you couldn't yourself together any longer. ecstasy rushed through your body, gushing out in liquid form onto kyle's twitching cock.

"yeah- so bad. wanna cum so bad.. m' sorry! fuck i'm sorry baby- m' gonna cum! i'm so sor-" kyle cried out, the feeling of your cunt flutter blissfully around him, gripping him in the wettest of hugs milking him of all he was worth.

his cock twinged painfully, seeking the deepest parts of you as release washed over him. spilling into you, he cried out hurried apologies. he clung to you, his blunt nails scratching at the skin of your back. punctuating every whimper and whine with a shaky thrust, he rode out his high.

plan b tomorrow, check.

[jazeswhbhaven]

Successful Hunt in Heaven | React | Spoilers | Full Summary

Alright ya'll here I am.

And it's bad news from me.

I...did not particularly enjoy the story whatsoever.

TLDR if you don't wanna read my entire react: Don't waste your seals, just wait the three months

Now, some of ya'll may like it cause you're that big of a Satan stan, but he has a ship with my OC and a fankid and I'm STILL shaking my head at this. Like why ya'll do him like this, PB?

What I will do different for this react is, basically bullet summary as most of this card is what it is and then give ya'll some highlight screenshots that I found mildly amusing.

What goes down from the prologue(part 1):

MC is feeling cocky about being in Gabriel's body and almost fucks it up but saves themselves. Because of that cockiness though, they are literally just brain mush the entire story.

Things to note, that Satan was in restraints, those restraints were tight but not tight enough to where he could still speak and move enough. He was cussin' MC out ya'll like how he should cause he hates Gabriel.

I would want to say that this is a good revenge potential but it wasn't. Essentially MC didn't disclose that it was them who was disguised. The entire time Satan believed it was Gabriel who was touching him, jacking him off, and allowing lower angels to touch his dick. Even if it's just the tip.

MC even went as far as to punch him in the stomach? Punched him good until he was close to coming.

MC wanted to take off the chastity belt, which to me? Nah. You wouldn't even know how to use Gabriel's dick, let's not. Couldn't even properly cum or jack off.

Turns out though that Gabriel is not conscious this entire time. He has no idea what's happening.

Long story short, Satan is getting molested, punched, and traumatized in front of an audience thinking he had feelings for Gabriel and that's why he was aroused and reacting. I don't even feel like the specifics here because it was just that rushed and bland of writing for this. What happens in the end, mind you this is very last part of the story. Satan finally realizes it's MC. The spell breaks, they go home on his motorcycle, and he only went there because there was an angel with MC's hair color.

Ya'll. Satan is not that fucking dumb. Sorry not sorry, but like he can be a goof ball, but he'd never mistake an angel for MC in his entire life time. That wasn't Satan, that was his lost twin Sam or something.

What I expected:

I honestly thought this was going to be similar to Levi's story. Satan got captured due to being weakened by something, perhaps a new trap the angels set up, the restraints being so good he couldn't escape, and he and MC roleplaying in front of the angels and they get so lost in it that's what breaks the spell.

I wanted Satan to be like "MC looks like Gabriel, which pisses me the fuck off but I know it's them so I'm fucking horny as hell and I just want to feel good. This is how it would feel being teased and licked by an angel..."

But nope. Got MC being badly written, pretty much going in on Satan and playing into their own weird kink of pretending to be a high rank angel while punching, and jacking off Satan. There wasn't really any point to it half the time, if Satan hadn't of clocked them in the end, he would have never known it was them at all even though MC was being very sloppy on acting like how Gabriel would torture someone.

Good Parts:

Satan's expressions, and Satan cussing MC out thinking that they are Gabriel.

Satan questioning his attraction, he just can't place why "Gabriel's" touch is arousing him and he can't understand why this angel he hates so much looks so turned on by this moment.

Satan pretty much saying at the end that he's going to go in on MC's ass when they get home. Like I'm pretty sure all holes will be s o r e because MC insulted him, punched him, slapped him, choked him, made him cum forcefully like three times from both dick and horns.

Satan's dick looked pretty in the position he was in and I liked his little red underwear. Click here for the goodies~

The okay?? why?? parts:

MC allowing the angels to touch him. Gabriel for one if he was in character would never allow them to touch his "prey". Like? What and who was this for?

Satan not being able to tell who it was for the majority of the story. He's a King tbh, so he should have seen through the spell.

Satan being a dummy dum and getting himself kidnapped because he thought MC was captured by mistaking an ANGEL that looks nothing like them....

Being robbed of the Satan's potential in the roleplay scenario. Imagine if you will-

Satan knowing that it's MC, and he's trying so hard to make it believable that he doesn't like any of what's going on. At the same time, MC is doing an impersonation of Gabriel so well he can't help but get upset. Why is MC so good at this? Do they actually like Gabriel enough to mimic him? Fuck that. And fuck being kidnapped and in these restraints. He wants MC so badly. To pull off that charade and to get fucked so deep there's nothing but rage flowing from the both of them. And did he really find some attraction to the angel? FUCK THAT. What a stupid thought, so stupid it pisses him off too. Only MC can make him feel a series of rage and jealously swirled so deliciously he wants nothing but that in his veins.

MC's personality being even more unsavory than usual. If ya'll compared to how they act in Levi's torture card you'd swear they were just suddenly taking on some odd sadistic personality that has nothing to do with them nor Gabriel. Er'body was confused.

The audience, the angels, Satan, just...lol

Overall Rating:

4.5/10

Like...idk ya'll the fourth Satan card was just a let down. The other three he has were so much better. Even the adore mode was ass. I wanted to see him moving, cussin' and spitting. The VA put his entire foot in this and it doesn't match Satan's energy in secret club at all. Might as well just play it on SFW mode if you wanna hear his VA moan some fierce in your ear.

Nice homage to Hellraiser, could have used a cooler name imo but OH WELL. Pinhead would be shaking his head rn.

NOW don't get me wrong, some of ya'll may like this. And if you do, please don't @ me or come for me as it's not that serious. I was frankly bored ya'll. IMO It's not worth wasting your seals just wait for it to be available in the regular banner. My expectations for how Satan would react in this moment was downplayed. Even if I felt like shipping the angels with the kings, this just didn't hit.

Live photo of one of Ronove's cats disapproving.

OKAY Screenshot time~

He is legitimately so pissed off ya'll I was like OH

Yeah because you were just goin' off the rails....it's a good thing you at least had the angels hang in the back otherwise they would have clocked you MC.

I just like his face here. Mhm mhm.

Apparently ya'll that is the face of a sinner. Satan is a filthy filthy sweat covered sinner (laugh with me because lmao)

I'm crying. So it's just shrinking, growing, shrinking, growing, just being confused as fuck the poor wang noodle.

Oh Satan....he's so angry the poor bby. This would be hotter if he was irritated by something I truly did. Lol

At the same time, I feel these lines would be good for that roleplay...

I'm crying because Gabriel doesn't talk like this and yet Satan still hasn't caught on yet.

Now Satan, don't discredit virgins...some of them be knowin' a lot more than you think. (right now tho "MC/Gabe" is kissing him through the gag)

again. gimmie dis face. he does the eye roll orgasm so well.

here we go again with that fishy smell thing

Gabriel in his sub conscious rn

He can get away with calling us a bitch. I'm a bad bitch. A baddie. I'll insult you any day Satan just because. He'd call it foreplay.

LMAOOOOOOO

So that ends with the screenshots ya'll. You see how there wasn't really much to show because it's basically just what I said in the summary? But anyways, I did get a peek at a couple things that bumps the rating up for me to a 4.5....(note the changes)

Date Story/Chat Summary:

This time around Satan sustained more damage and the marks left behind are staying longer than usual. Sitri thinks this is a problem, Satan don't give a shit because MC gave them to him.

Satan getting jealous of MC requesting him to get healed because he thinks they learned it from another healing devil is cute.

He's very cuddly, we knew this but it's just nice to see this again.

MC and Satan have a talk about what happened up in Heaven and well it's also nice to see him be serious about his feelings and how MC should feel, etc. Mature Satan is mature.

He can smell when MC is horny btw. Idk this is so hot of him. But I also always had a HC that all devils could smell just about anything. When your cycle is coming, ovulation, other bodily things.

He likes the fact that MC was confident enough to insult him so boldly even though he pointed out they were in Gabriel's body.

He can't stand it that Paimon sews his decapitated teddy bear heads, the cotton is supposed to leak. At the same time he likes that Paimon adds sparkly beads for the eyes so it looks like they "glow"

His hand are so pretty with those sharp nails.

He has so many photos of his motorcycle he has two phones. He loves his bike that much to where he refers to it as his lover.

He doodles when he's bored at meetings.

That does it folks!!!! As per usual, if you've made it to the end thank you thank you to my dear moot/friends who help fuel my delusions and ramblings. Without ya'll my blog would just be...whelp a bunch of Astra in your face lmao (honestly tho she should be she's great)

Stay lovely, love up on your bois, -your lovely admin💖💕

[squibsformers]

Miscommunication

Rodimus x Human Reader, Drift x Ratchet x Human Reader

Summary: After Rodimus tried looping you into something you really weren't into, you sought out your other partners to complain about his reveal of character.

Word Count: 1,128

AN: NSFW suggestive talk, no outright smut. Also hi this is my first tf writing soooo lmk what your thoughts are, i love comments. I'm already working on a reader insert series and wanted to start with a few one off bits. Enjoy! tagging valveplug just in case.

Drift looked up when you entered the medbay, his greeting dying on his glossa as his field just PINGED with the waves of displeasure coming off you.

“Jeez… what's got you all wound up, huh?” He straightened his backstuts as he stood up more from the desk he leaned over, messing with Ratchet temporarily set aside.

You hissed a rush of words under your breath as you strutted in, something that he couldn't TELL what was said but he understood it wasn't very polite. Even the older medic bot lifted his head to address you.

“I only managed to make out Rodimus in all that. What did our oh so brilliant captain do to piss you off?”

 “I thought this whole time we were leading up to something… fun. But it turns out I misread every step. He thinks he's BETTER than me.”

“He's the captain, he is better than you.”

You whipped your head around to glare at Ratchet. “Better enough that I deserve to clean the dirt off his kibble with my tongue?? Because I feel that's pretty fucking degrading.”

Both bots stilled, and the medic's “Wait, what-” was interrupted by Drift stalling briefly and talking over him. “That doesn't sound at ALL like something Roddy would say.”

“I thought so, too.” You huffed before your attitude melted into something a bit sadder. “I mean… I've been flirting with him for so long, and he's been receptive towards it. You even told me he said he likes me. So I don't know where this came from…” 

Groaning, you put your face in your hands, and idly Ratchet patted your back while working (and half listening). 

“I didn't even think that would be a thing with you guys, making someone tongue-polish your like, plating and stuff.”

“That sounds like something Megatron would have had Starscream do back in the day,” Ratchet groused, making Drift mock gagging.

“I'm going to purge my tank, don't make me think about those two like that.” A shudder wracked the ex ‘con's frame. “Eugh. No it's not really a thing with us. Is…is it a human thing?”

“Ah…” The question made you pause to think. “Not… really? I mean, kind of. It's usually an extremely exaggerated form of punishment from someone who wants to uh… show superiority while demeaning the other. Though it's shoes or boots for us, not armor spikes. The idea is to polish the dirtiest article of clothing with their tongue - or glossa - so they feel... sub-human. Though there's always exceptions, and some people are into that kinda thing as like, a kink? But it's really not…what I'm looking for.” You wince.

….Ratchet paused his comforting as he listened, before turning to look you over. “Hold on, back up. Armor spikes… kid, what did Rodimus say to you?”

Drift leaned over the autobot's shoulder, studying you closely. The samurai looked both confused…and disbelieving.

Alright, fine then.

“He said ‘Y’know… Maybe you can put that glossa of yours to use and… clean my spikes with it.’” They let out a grumble. “I didn't peg him for the degrading type…”

The two mechs went oddly quiet and still.

“Spikes… plural?” Drift pressed.

You thought back more, mulling the memory over, of the captain of the Lost Light leering down at you with that heated smirk and his thumb on your cheek…and shook your head.

“No, sorry. Just spike.”

“PFFT-”

You looked up to see Drift looking away, one of his servos clamped over his intake as he cackled. His limbs shook and he held onto Ratchet to steady himself. The medic was looking away, face buried in his hands. His shoulders shook.

He was also laughing at you.

“What. WHAT! HEY?? HELLO!!”

“Kid…Kid, Sp..spike is another term we have for plug.” Ratchet mumbled out. Still laughing. Very much laughing at you. His words caused Drift to wheeze and bend over, his vents stuttering as he cackled.

“He was asking you to interface finally and you totally missed it..!! Oh Primus help me, what did you say? What did you say, tell me. Please, it has to be good.”

Your face got warm as you thought of the fact that you had finally gotten Rodimus interested enough he would make a bold pass. Your face was hot when you realized you had totally missed his signals. Your face was practically on fire when it clicked just how badly you fumbled the whole interaction.

“I… I said Ew, no thanks. And came here-”

“THAAAAHAHAATS THE WORST THING YOU C-COOOHOULD HAVE SAID!!! AAAHAHAGHA OH PRIMUS-”

“Frag me, kid you did not-”

There was no saving you. Both mechs were now openly laughing at your misery. Your face buried in your hands you mumbled out a weak “How was I supposed to know!” that only made Drift start losing it all over again.

After some time (Ten. Minutes.) the two much larger beings had settled, Ratchet returning to his work and chuckling on occasion while Drift…pestered you over your absolute dropping of the ball.

“I can't believe this. I'm almost scared to flirt with you now because you may not get it!”

“Driiiiift…!” You whined, the cheeky samurai squeezing your hips. “Let me go, I want to jettison myself out of the airlock.”

“Not a chance!! I mean I want to make sure if I tell you I wanna have you eat my valve from the back that you aren't going to mistake it for me, say, threatening to mug you or something.”

Your face was bright red. “Drift!!”

“Or, oh man, if I tell you I want to slot my plug between your thighs, maybe you'll think I'm wanting you to-”

“RATCHET! DRIFT IS BULLYING ME AGAIN!” Complaining loudly, you squirmed in Drift's hold while eyeing his Conjux, displeased and humiliated and hoping the medic would scold him or something.

Ratchet barely spared you a glance with his optics as he continued his inventory count. He was literally busy and not paying attention to you two.

“Between words from attractive mechs, manhandling, and something almost too big to go in, you enjoy being bullied, and all of us here are very aware of it,” drawled the grouch's response.

You stared at him, mouth dropped open in shock and WORSE embarrassment at how he called your bullshit out. All while Drift began cackling all over again.

—

You stared up at the habisuite door, staring at the imposing metal barrier of captain Rodimus Prime's personal chambers. Your stomach twisted in knots nervously, your palms somewhat sweaty as you raised a fist and knocked hard, twice. Mentally, you prepared your apology as you heard shuffling and the soft clank of pedes across a metal floor.

God, you hoped the mech thought stupid was hot.

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

LIKE A LOVE SONG- JOSH WASHINGTON

pairing: best friend!josh x fem!reader

word count- noo idea yet... writing this rn

summary: you and josh have been best friends for years, and the crush youve had on him hasnt subsided. things are all fine and dandy, until one night, the cat is pulled out of the bag...

warnings: implied SMUT, hella dirty talk, voygerism, dry humping, josh being a huge tease, pet names, some mocking, reader and josh are intoxicated, biting, etc etc

notes: hey so i need this man sexually! thats it thats all, im gonna open my account up to write for more fandoms and hop around:) just testing out the waters with this one

"josh we are sooo gonna get caught.." you slurred, hiccuping with a giggle as he tugged your arm, pulling you down the empty hallway, leaving your scattered friendgroup behind in the abyss.

a glint was in his eye as he looked back at you, full of mischief and hunger, and you couldn't help but bat your eyelashes at him. he was so dreamy it was making you swoon.

you had always thought he was beautiful- like a dream come alive. ever since he had accidently bumped into you during freshman year of college, you had be under his trance.

"shit, shit i'm so sorry, i shouldve watched where i was going. are you okay?" he had asked as he quickly bent down to help you gather your spilled papers. it was straight out of a chick flick, and you had finally felt like the main character instead of the extra.

he made you feel so special, always making flirty comments (though he did that with everyone), and giving you looks that had your head spinning.

tonight was no different.

the booze in your system made you extra giddy, and you felt his grip tighten as the two of you neared an empty bedroom down the hall.

not a doubt had passed through your mind when josh asked if you wanted to escape from the group for a while- clearly a bit intoxicated, but still stable enough to make a coherent decision. not in a million years would you pass up a chance to be alone with him.

"isn't that what makes it so much more fun?" he cooed, tugging you into the empty room, slamming the door behind you with a whoosh. without a second to gather your breath he had pinned you back against the door, hand darting out to turn the lock.

"do you actually-" you hiccuped nervously. "-wanna do something with me? do you wanna have sex?" you giggled, your bluntness making him laugh.

"yes, i wanna have sex with you. i have for years. is that okay?"

your eyes widened. did this man just say for years?

"oh."

he bit his lip, eyes roaming down your body, stopping to admire every trance from under your fitted clothes. "you gonna let me fuck you? or are you too scared chris is gonna wanna join in?"

"oh shut up."

he smirked, breath hot and heavy on your skin as he placed a soft kiss on your collarbone, nipping it with his teeth enough to make you hiss in shock.

"he does, cause you're so sexy. like a porn star. you have such a tight bod. wonder if your pussy is just as tight."

his dirty talk had your face heating, brain turning to mush as you moaned, leaning into his touch.

"you know how much i've wrapped my hands around my cock wishinng it was you? too many times." you squealed as he bit down on your neck, hard, hard enough to make a mark for anyone with a set of eyes to see, but you didnt care.

"j-josh fuck i-"

"whats up baby? need some cock to make you think straight? you've been giving me those pretty googly eyes all night, thinking i haven't noticed. so naive." he cooed as you ran your fingers through his hair, back arching into his touch as his large hands traveled down to your thighs before swooping you up so you clung wrapped around his torso.

"you're so fuckin hot. makes me so hard just thinking of you."

you rutted against him, sighing at the friction it caused, sending shocks down your spine stright to your core. his lips found yours, teeth and tounge clashing, nothing nice about the kiss. it was rough and hard and full of need.

"fuckin pathetic, humping me like some bitch in heat." he growled, his mocking turning you on even more. you reached down, struggling to tug at his belt, needing it off.

the less layers between you two- the better.

you gasped as your wooden support was removed, as he took you over and tossed you down on the bed with ease- as if you were a doll. you barely had a second to look at him before he was on top of you, smirk coy as he rutted his denim clothed cock on your cunt, already soaked through your shorts and tights.

he was toying with you.

"im gonna fuck you so hard you're not gonna be able to walk for days." he murmred, lifting your hips up as he tugged at your bottoms, nearly ripping them in half.

"then how are you gonna explain to the group why you're limping around like some fawn hm? cause joshey fucked you so good and so deep and your tight little cunt couldnt take it."

[disasterbuck]

interlude - 2

married buddie | 300 words

I didn't plan to write a ch2 but I woke up with this idea stuck in my head and just HAD to write it. Hope you like it! 🥰 Can be read separate to ch1 but if you want more fluff I highly recommend it!

Waking up to the sun streaming in through the window, Eddie stretched and turned his head to look for Buck, but his husband wasn't in bed. He frowned, wondering where he could be, and then heard the tell-tale sounds of Buck in the kitchen.

Smiling to himself, he relaxed back against the pillows.

Then he suddenly remembered the night before and his eyes snapped open.

Making his way to the kitchen with his shoulders hunched, Eddie chewed on his bottom lip nervously. Buck was cooking omelettes for breakfast which looked and smelled delicious, but Eddie didn't feel worthy of them.

"Morning!" Buck said brightly, turning to smile at him. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Eddie sidled up to Buck, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in his shoulder to hide. "I'm sorry I fell asleep," he mumbled.

"What?"

"Last night," Eddie went on without raising his head. "We were gonna have sex and then I fell asleep on you right after saying I couldn't."

"Eddie," Buck said, turning and sliding a hand into his hair so he could gently lift his head and look into his eyes. "Please don't apologise for falling asleep."

"Weren't you disappointed?" Eddie asked quietly.

"No!" Buck cupped his face in his hands and kissed his nose. "Of course I wasn't disappointed. I got to watch you sleep!"

"Creep," Eddie teased, a smile making its way onto his face. "You mean it, though? You weren't upset?"

"Upset that my beautiful husband who sometimes struggles with insomnia managed to get a solid five hours of sleep last night?" Buck asked, raising his eyebrows. "No, Eddie, I wasn't upset. Seeing you blissfully passed out on the pillow was even more satisfying than an orgasm."

"Dork."

"You love me."

"Yeah," Eddie said, kissing him softly. "I really do."

[kaliforniahigh]

Can you please write something about Noahs girlfriend trying the ‘dafuq’ trend that I’ve seen all over TikTok on Noah 😭 If you haven’t seen the trend you can probably check anywhere for it! xx

I went down a rabbit hole watching these videos. Couples trend are so funny when they're harmless!

You know what other trend would be funny as hell? Recording with a filter and seeing how long it takes for Noah to notice his eyes are too far apart LOL

From time to time, Noah agreed to do a video with you. You weren't super active on social media, but sometimes you posted food-related videos. This time, you invited him to taste the Crumbl flavors of the week.

You both left the store, and Noah was holding the large pink box full of cookies in his hands, and you reached in his pocket for the key to unlock the car. You both got in and he set the box on the center console, in between you two.

"Why do we have to eat in the car?", he asked you, a bit puzzled by the idea.

"Because it's the aesthetic, Noah", you explained, grabbing your phone and setting it on the holder stuck to the dashboard.

"Eating in the car is an aesthetic now?", he mumbled to himself and you just chuckled in response.

Noah thought you were just tasting the cookies in the video, but you had something else planned. You've seen this trend going around on TikTok, where girlfriends praked their boyfriends saying "dafuq" at the end of every sentence.

You decided that it would be a fun prank to pull on him, since it was harmless and there was finally a couples trend that didn't dimish the woman.

Since you didn't use many slangs while speaking, you had a feeling he would catch on pretty soon. But it was worth a try anyways.

"Ok, I'm gonna start recording", you told him and you saw him adjusting his hair out of the corner of your eye. You hit the record button and started speaking.

"Hey everyone, so we just left the Crumbl store, and we're sitting here with a big box full of cookies for us to try, dafuq", you said the last word a little lower, so it wasn't as obvious.

Noah rubbed his hands together, actually excited to try the sweet treats.

"So I was thinking we could split them in half, dafuq", you said, while opening the box and looking over the different flavors.

"What, did you find something strange in there?", he asked you, pering into the box, and you realized he was acknowledging the "dafuq" you added. Playing it cool, you replied.

"No, everything's fine", he only nodded in response. "Do you want to try the Confetti Milshake or the Snickerdoodle first, dafuq?"

You looked at him, trying to keep your composure. He was looking at you weird now, but didn't comment on it yet.

"We can try the Snickerdoodle first", he said and you went to grab the cookie and split it in half, handing one piece to Noah. You both clicnked your cookies together in a toast before eating, and you really hoped he wouldn't say cheers, because you couldn't imagine you saying "cheers dafuq".

You both took a bite out of the cookie, feeling the sweet flavor enter your mouth.

"This one is really nice. Simple and nice flavor", he gave his review.

"It is really nice. Not to sweet either, dafuq", you said, grabbing a napkin to clean your mouth.

"Ok, what is going on?", he finally asked you, now turning his body to fully face you.

"What do you mean, dafuq?", you said, looking at the box as if trying to decide the nest flavor.

"Nope, you're dodging the question. Why are you dafuq to the end of every sentence?", he grabbed your hand and you turned your head to look at him.

You couldn't help but break into laughter. His expression was actually serious, because he was actually concerned about you.

"Why are you laughing?", he asked, with a little indigination in your voice.

"Oh, this is so funny", you grabbed your stomach and tried to take some deep breaths. "It's just a prank I've seen on TikTok", you finally explained to him.

"Oh my God", he breathed a sigh of relief. "I thought your brain was malfunctioning for a moment", he put a hand on his chest.

"I'm fine, I promise", you put a comforting hand on his arm, and after finally calming down, he said.

"Can we try the Confetti Milkshake now?"

You stopped recording and grabbed the cookie from the box, splitting it in half and giving a piece to Noah.

[tremordusk]

Hi, so can you do like a cute Nicky and Agathario the fanfic or incorrect quote or skit whatever you want to do where it's modern day and yes they're all still witches but Wanda and Agatha were actually best friends which intern makes Nicholas and Billy best friends or here's another one that's been floating around in my head what if Rio never took Nicholas and never had to they ended up having a happy family until Agatha's mother communicated with a witch that was ignorant enough to believe her and convinced said which to curse Agatha to believe that Nicholas was dead and Rio took him and over the years Agatha kept running from Rio before she could break the curse until she eventually found the darkhold and then Rio really couldn't find her wife but by some miracle Nicholas ended up befriending Billy and Tommy and Rio hands up making a deal with Wanda if she can give her back her wife not just for her but for her son then she can give her vision and make sure that the twins stay in the bodies they're in

I would love to explore this idea, unfortunately I am currently backed up with multiple fics I am currently writing.

However, I am going to drop some more Agathario + Nicky incorrect quotes later in the day^^

[savs-sims98]

One Sunny Afternoon

Premise: Astarion and Sylvannah find a nice spot alone in the woods; where he discovers his love is in heat.

I have been under the weather the past two weeks and this is my placebo pill week. I just needed to write some smut(˶°ᴗ° ) !!

Astarion X OC

| 18+,fluff, woman in heat, smut, mentions of pregnancy, angst, breeding kink |

Astarion watched Sylvannah as they lay together. They had snuck away for the afternoon to have some time alone. She looked gorgeous in the sun; her body lay out on a pale green quilt. Sylvannah had her eyes closed. He watched how her eyes moved slowly under her eyelids. Astarion moved a cool hand to touch her warm face.

As Sylvannah let out a small sigh he snaked his body down next to her. He wrapped his arms around her body laying his head on her chest. He squeezed her tight to his body.

"Darling, you are so warm.." Astarion hummed as he nuzzled closer to her emerald frame.

Sylvannah finally opened her eyes and turned to face Astarion placing a soft kiss on his head. "It's such a lovely day, the sun is quite warm."

There was something else. Astarion couldn't help but get even closer to her. He lifted his head and buried his face in the crook of his love's neck. As he did he worked a cold hand between her thighs. Sylvannah began to moan in her throat and he could feel it against his face. There was something that caught him off guard. Not that it didn't drive him wild to feel how wet he could make Sylvannah, but she was practically dripping. Her eyes met his and she could see the look on his face.

"Astarion, you kept bringing up my scent all morning. You can't tell I'm in heat?" she practically whimpered.

Astarion paused for a moment. Then Sylvannah could see his eyes sparkle with excitement and a sly grin appear. He acted quicker than she could react. Moving on top Astarion slinked down her body keeping her stare. His hands danced up her thighs pushing her dress up. His fingers dug into the skin of her soft ass as his head dipped down between her legs. His hot stare gone in an instant. Sylvannah was now left staring at the sky and the trees.

It felt incredible, his cold tongue drawing circling around her damp folds. Sylvannah moved a hand to run through his white locks. She could feel him moan against her heat. She yelped out starting to feel herself let go. Astarion gripped tighter, catching every drop of her essence on his tongue.

Then, Astarion got up and removed his items of clothing. All the while returning that hot gaze back onto his lover. "My love, why didn't you tell me sooner. You know I love the taste of you when you're body is like this."

She looked nice; her braids falling out and her face flushed with passion. Once he lay back down he got on his side bringing Sylvannah against his body.

"Oh, Astarion that feels so nice, I'm so.." Sylvannah moaned throwing her head back against him.

Gently Astarion took his hand and returned it back to her slick heat. She was becoming quite the sight in his arms. Her eyes were hooded and her mouth hung open as she worked to breathe through the rush of pleasure. He could feel her body begin to tense against his. Astarion was beginning to sweat now. He watched her face closely as she came catching her in his hand.

He nuzzled his face against hers softly and whispered in her ear. "I love you. Hells, Sylvannah you're such an extraordinary woman.

Sylvannah gasped at the feeling of Astarion's hard cock flexing against her folds. He wanted her so bad doing it over and over. He knew she loved it. Sometimes she'd ask him to do it while she sat on his lap at camp; in front of everyone.

She positioned her hips and as she did his dick slid right in her heat. Astarion moaned grabbing onto her arm and biting her shoulder. His mind raced at the idea of his goddess in heat.

"Sylvannah, oh..I'm gonna knock you up.." he whimpered as he unlatched from her shoulder. He could feel her come at that statement.

His pace began to slow. Astarion held her close pumping in and out of her intently. Not in a teasing manner. He was trying to see just how deep inside her he could get.

Sylvannah turned to look at him and his eyes were filled with desire. She could tell it was beyond lust or basic romance. It was a desire to see her ripe with child. Ever since they had agreed to do so; he'd been feral on these days of the month. She reached a hand to hold his face.

"Astarion, I love you too. I love getting to love you so fiercely and completely." Sylvannah stated as she felt him lose control.

Astarion's hips bucked against hers and she moaned deeply at the sensation. He was so deep she could feel the hot ropes shooting inside. Sylvannah couldn't help, but come herself. They held onto each other in the dappled light of the trees and summer air.

As the two came down from their highs Astarion pulled her close to him wrapping the quilt around them. He gently rubbed her back and she kissed his chest. He laughed at the feeling of her nose tickling his chilled yet damp skin.

"Well, this is a bit of a love burrito!" Sylvannah chuckled as she looked up at him. She could feel his other arm move and his hand caressed her stomach lightly.

"Sylvannah, darling, I just.. I love you so dearly and to think that someday you'd carry my children. Thank you. I can't find the exact words, but I do know I'll never look at you the way Gortash did. Bearing my child would be a gift and being the mother to my children would mean everything to me." Astarion said softly looking his love deep in her eyes.

"Astarion, you are such a good man. I think you would make a great father. I didn't want children with Gortash because of his nature. You are not like him. We may both be cunning and resourceful, but we are nothing like him. Our babes would be great people I think." Sylvannah said grabbing Astarion and kissing him tenderly.

For the rest of the afternoon, they laid out in that quilt. Talking about their future life in the Underdark and how they would decorate a home together; and eventually a nursery.

[geothewriter]

Any Other Way - A post-war Zutara One Shot

Happy Birthday (slightly early) to my good friend @achillmango

I wrote ya a lil something because you're an awesome person and a great editor! I legitimately couldn't have made all of this progress on Vermillion Seas Cardinal Skies without you. So... here! I ran with an idea we talked about a while back.

Special shoutout to @demaparbat-hp for helping me edit this fun piece. You helped me add the polish to make this special. <3

And so with this, my first public action as your regent Fire Lord, I declare all aggression over. Our troops will withdraw home, now, to the Fire Archipelago, or to the colonies. On that topic, as I'm sure you're well aware, the colonies are a difficult subject to consider. The newly appointed peacetime council and I have already begun correspondence with King Kuei of the Earth Kingdom to begin ratifying a joint act we like to call the Harmony Restoration Movement. It is a long road, but together, we will travel it well. I'm sure many of you are wondering why an old war general is attempting to herald peace. Why would the Dragon of the West hope for less conflict? I am an old man, and I have seen the atrocity of war. Many across the seas will know me as something else, but I assure you, I am no longer that young man. If I must answer for my past crimes and ambition, so be it. Make that call, and I shall answer. If you call prior to the passage of the next seven years, a council of responsible individuals will head this fine nation. After those seven years have elapsed, my nephew, Prince Zuko, will take the throne as Fire Lord. Until such a moment arrives, he is to contribute to communities around the across all lands, gaining post-war-time political and worldly experience prior to– Zuko gently placed the article that formerly acted as packing paper on the table. His uncle sure could write a speech when he put his mind to it. Three years. He had three years left before his freedom came to an end. A long time, to be sure, but could he really prepare himself fully for the throne in only three years? A terse sigh escaped Zuko’s lips before he turned and pulled another mug from the box on the table. Unwrapping it with care, he placed the porcelain cup in its belonging place, up in the cupboard. Another delve into the box, and he withdrew a rather large plate.  The protective paper fell to the side as he placed the tableware in another cupboard. He wondered, could it really be so simple? Would he really be able to settle down in a new location every few months for the next few years? It wasn’t like four years helped him fit in with the rest of the world. If he wasn't normal by now, then there was no way on earth three more years would do the trick. Zuko sighed. At least the nightmares had stopped midway through last summer.  It was when she joined him. It was the promise, really. “If things don’t work out, and we’re both lost and aimless in the world, promise you’ll find me?”  “Only if you promise the same.” They sealed the oath with a hug and parted ways after his Uncle’s coronation. A year passed with little contact. Zuko was too busy to think beyond the next day, and she was too busy rebuilding the south to write.  She found him in Jang Hui, while he was supervising the removal of the vast quantity of rubble from the destroyed metal foundry located there. He was overburdened, having taken on both that and the difficult job of establishing a more robust local government, as well as setting up a makeshift hospital to get them back on their feet. He was more stressed than he could ever remember. He hadn't slept properly in days. Hadn't eaten, either.  Then she happened. 

Continue Reading on AO3.

[chronicowboy]

His breakup with Marisol is about as unremarkable as the rest of their relationship. There's no catastrophic muffin mess in his kitchen or divorce papers. Just a quiet I don't think this is working out, I'm sorry. Marisol hadn't even cried. She'd just nodded like she'd been waiting for it and left, didn't even need to grab anything from the house before she went and really that just reassured Eddie that this was the right choice.

So, his breakup with Marisol is unremarkable, except that it's not. It's pretty fucking remarkable when he thinks about it because it's not just that they weren't working out, not just that he really didn't care about spending time with her, not just the clench in his gut every time she touched him. No. It's pretty fucking remarkable because he realises he's in love with his best friend.

That's what pushes him over the edge, gives him the last kick he needs to actually break things off with her. Because Eddie may have sworn himself to secrecy about it the moment he realised, but he could never string someone along just because he couldn't have the real someone he wanted.

It's a fucking revelation once he has it. Not a ton of bricks, but the sun peeking out from behind the clouds on the greyest of days, bright and blinding. And the way Eddie has always thought of Buck in terms of sunshine maybe should have tipped him off sooner, but with the way Buck has been beaming over the past few weeks. Well. Eddie doesn't really think he can be blamed for only just taking his sunglasses off and daring to look directly at the light.

And, okay, so Eddie maybe makes it a full week before he decides his self-sworn secrecy absolutely is not a viable option when Buck walks through life now like a drop of sunshine in human form. It's after Buck leaves the Diaz house, walking out from a day of giggles and joy at the go-kart track they'd finally managed to convince Chris to be seen with them at, leaving behind a cosy heat like sun-warmed skin, that Eddie realises he cannot go another day without telling Buck that he's desperately, deeply in love with him.

And so, that's how Eddie finds himself at Buck's door on a random Sunday morning, knocking for the first time since Natalia waltzed out of the picture. Buck opens it a few moments later looking perfectly sleep-rumpled and soft and downright golden where he's backlit by the early morning sunlight pooling in the loft.

"Eddie," Buck breathes out, eyes darting up the stairs before refocusing on Eddie and what must be the most hopelessly lovesick expression painted across his face. "H-hey, what are you doing here?"

"I, um." Eddie takes a deep breath, suddenly nervous, and wipes his clammy palms on his jeans. "I wanted to talk to you about something. Now a good time?" And Buck must hear the slightly shaky steel in his voice because the surprise on his face morphs into a concern so quintessentially Buck that Eddie just wants to kiss it away.

"Y-yeah, of course, come on in." Buck holds the door open for him, and Eddie migrates to the fridge as Buck closes the door with the gentlest touch. "So, um, what's up?"

"I..." Eddie swallows against the heart in his throat, loses himself in the shining blue of Buck's eyes like an ocean he'd be more than happy to drown in. "I broke up with Marisol last week."

"Oh, Eddie." Buck slumps, and Eddie tries not to think that it looks a little like relief. "I'm so sorry, man. That sucks."

"No, no." Eddie waves him off with a laugh. "It's good. Was a long time coming actually." He shakes his head at himself. "I think I was dating her just to tick a box, you know? Realised you probably shouldn't be more excited about a phone call from your new buddy than one from your kinda long-term girlfriend. You definitely shouldn't be relieved when you see your best friend in the restaurant you're taking her to and disappointed when you realise he's just leaving."

And then, Buck blushes, ducks his head, does that little smile that could light up every house on South Bedford Street just like Eddie had been hoping for.

"Yeah." Buck looks up at him from under his lashes. "Probably not."

It bolsters Eddie. Buck's sunshine giving him that one last push he needs.

"There was something else I wanted to say," Eddie starts. And there isn't really any fear in him, knows they'll make it through this no matter what, just an overwhelming sense of peace to come. "I..." A deep breath, gathering all his love and devotion in his lungs so it's ready to pour out on his next inhale and—

A groan from upstairs has the words dying in his throat. A masculine groan. And then:

"Evan?"

"D-down here," Buck calls back.

Eddie can't take his eyes off the loft, stuck there like a car crash he can't look away from as a very shirtless Tommy Kinard appears at the top of the stairs and quickly blanches.

"Shit. Um..." He looks down at Buck in a panic.

Eddie finally manages to drag his eyes away from the very chiselled curveball that just hit him at a hundred miles per hour and finds Buck's face. Small, scared, shaken. He knows the feeling. And because he loves Buck, because of just how deeply he loves Buck, it's the easiest thing in the world to lock that love away and let his face crack into the most genuine of grins. Because if Tommy's been the thing making Buck shine like every fucking star in the sky, well Eddie will absolutely not be getting between them.

"You've been so happy," Eddie chokes out, still smiling.

"I have," Buck whispers.

"And I'm so happy for you." Eddie covers the distance between them in three long strides and pulls Buck into a hug so tight and clinging he's sure it's a confession in and of itself, but Buck only buries in deeper, taking shaky little breaths in the crook of Eddie's neck.

"Thank you," Buck murmurs into his skin. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut against the sudden rush of tears.

"Sorry you didn't get to tell me on your own terms," he murmurs back, letting Buck pull away, but lingering with a hand on his hip, on his shoulder. He should maybe be worried about what this could look like to Tommy who had basically never heard anything apart from rambles about Buck, except when he glances up the stairs, Tommy is nowhere to be seen.

"I was going to tell you," Buck rushes out. "I-I just wasn't sure how."

"That's okay," Eddie says. It's okay. It's okay. "Well, I'll stop gate-crashing for the... Second time?" He raises an eyebrow, and Buck flushes a pink Eddie will never ever get to taste. "Yeah, okay. That makes sense." He remembers the pure fear on Buck's face, the indecision on Tommy's and the sudden tightening of his own chest despite his smile. "I'll leave you guys to it." He clears his throat. "Kinard, if you hurt him, they'll never find your body," he shouts up the stairs.

"Copy that, Diaz," Tommy shouts back.

"I'm really proud of you, Buck." Eddie wraps him in another hug then, a quick thing, just one last touch before Eddie seals every desire away for good.

"Thanks, Eddie." Buck walks him to the door, eyes glistening with unshed tears, and Eddie wants to hug him again. Wants so badly it hurts. But if he hugs Buck again, he doesn't think he'll ever let go. "See you at work tomorrow."

"See you at work." Eddie prays Buck is too distracted to hear the wobble in his voice.

"Wait, sorry, what did you want to talk about?"

Eddie freezes on the threshold, the stutter of his heart painful like he's back in a suit store, and he catches himself on the doorframe with a shaking hand.

"It can wait."

[lost-in-fandoms]

Maxiel soulmates AU in which people get numbers (numbers, dates, timestamps, coordinates...) on their wrist for important events in their soulmate's life.

For a long time Daniel's parents think he's broken.

They don't use quite those words obviously, but they're worried enough to make him think that there's something wrong with him. It's not unusual to not get soulmarks when you're very young, not many important things happen to toddlers, but when he turns eight and there's still no sign of any, they take him to a doctor. The doctor tells them not to worry, that maybe his soulmate is a late bloomer, or maybe a couple of years younger. They'll come.

When he turns ten, they take him to a specialist, who does all sort of things to him, from drawing blood to reaction tests to even a brain scan, but turns up empty handed. They'll come, is all she can say.

Daniel doesn't really care. He's eleven now, and he thinks all this soulmates stuff is a bit dumb. If you were meant to be with someone, why wouldn't the universe make it easier to find your way to them? Why would it put any sort of numbers on your skin instead of just a pair of coordinates and a date and a big old "MEET HERE" above it? Plus, plenty of people are happy without their soulmate. Some people can't afford to run after the numbers that appear on their skin, and they still find love. Daniel doesn't even want a soulmate anyway.

The day after he turns twelve he gets his first soulmark. It's just a small 2 on the inside of his wrist, but his mom cries over it. Daniel bites at it when he's alone in his room, before it disappears, wishing his soulmate could feel it.

They come more often after that, mostly random numbers and dates, but one day, when he's sixteen, a pair of coordinates. He tells himself he doesn't care, he's just curious, but he still looks them up. Turns out it's some place in northern France and, without his consent, his brain starts conjuring an image of his soulmate: a pretty french girl, with a long brown braid.

He's in Italy when he gets the second pair of coordinates, after a few years of just incomprehensible numbers, and for a moment he doesn't know how to react. She's in Italy too. Not that far away from him actually. He could probably take a train there, or a bus, if he wanted to.

But he doesn't want to. He has things to do, and he doesn't care about his soulmate anyway.

The coordinates keep coming from time to time, among the numbers. They're almost always scattered around Europe (France, Spain, Italy, Belgium....) and even when he knows he could probably get there in a reasonable amount of time he never goes.

He has gotten into the habit of recording all the soulmarks he gets in a small notebook his mom had given him years and years ago, just out of curiosity. Sometimes, when he's feeling particularly lonely, he goes through the pages, rubbing his finger over the recorded dates and numbers.

Sometimes he wonders what she gets from him. Did she get the date of when he got into a kart for the first time? Maybe the coordinates of the first race he won? The number of his first Formula Renault car?

Some other times he tries to make sense of all the numbers he got (2, 18, 3, 24, 30, 110, 1...), wonders if she maybe moves around a lot and those are the numbers of her hotel rooms, or her address, of her seat on a flight. Usually he remembers he doesn't care before he can find any pattern to it.

One thing that he was not ready for when he finally reaches Formula 1 is how many questions about soulmates he was going to get. Reporters are of course always asking if he has "found her yet", but even the drivers are nosy, asking if he plans on getting to her next coordinates, or if he has figured anything out about her. Sebastian tells him about the time he had found his soulmate, when they were both still in high school. She had gotten a timestamp, something Daniel has never gotten, and when the time had come she had found herself sitting next to Sebastian on a bus. There had been no date, but it hadn't been necessary. They had both just known.

Daniel tries his best to never talk about soulmates with Sebastian again.

He still writes all the dates and numbers (he recently added a 33 to his collection) in his notebook, but, as he tells anyone who asks, he's here to race, not to go on a wild goose chase. If it happens it happens, if not, he'll still be happy.

Max is both quieter and louder than Sebastian. He's awkward and a bit shy, but when Daniel manages to make him laugh for the first time he's so loud Daniel almost startles. Max has a bracelet over his wrist, covering the spot where his soulmarks must appear. Daniel doesn't ask about it.

In Spain, after the race, Daniel finds the day's date on his wrist. It looks a little bigger than usual, maybe, but he doesn't know what that could mean. He doesn't really care. It's funny though how many people seem to be having an important day that day.

Max asks about his soulmate only once. They're in Malaysia and they're both drunk and Daniel is starting to consider if it's morally and physically wrong to get both him and Max another shot when Max brings it up.

"Your soulmate..." he says, finger almost touching the 2 on Daniel's wrist. Daniel tenses, doesn't know if he wants Max to draw back or draw closer, but Max does neither thing, just hovering there. It feels like standing a little too close to an old cable TV, and Daniel drags his arm away.

"What about her?" he asks, harsher than he meant to be. He sees Max stiffen a little, but doesn't really care. He doesn't want to have this conversation, especially not here and not now.

"Do you think you will want to find them one day?" There's something in Max's voice, something too complicated for Daniel to decipher. If Max is still able to have a coherent conversation about soulmates, it means Daniel is going to have to get him that shot.

"I don't care," he says, hoping Max gets from his tone that the conversation is over. When he sees him frown and open his mouth again though, he knows he's going to have to deviate further.

He pushes his shoulder against Max's, jostling him before slinging his arm around his neck, subtly pointing at the people around the club.

"Besides," he murmurs directly in Max's ears. He feels him shiver and press closer, so he raises his voice slightly. "Why would I need some French girl, when there's plenty of available ones here, yeah?"

He feels Max freeze against him, but he's already pushing off, laughing. As far as he's concerned, this conversation is over. He has drinks to drink and girls to kiss. He's a winner today, who cares about all this bullshit anyway?

Max never asks again.

From time to time, Daniel feels him looking, but Max is always looking at him anyway. It's easy to ignore when his wrist is the object of his focus.

Things start seriously going downhill during 2018. The car is unreliable, the team's focus has clearly shifted to Max, Daniel feels rejected and disrespected. Things with Max are still mostly good outside the track, but in the garage the tension is rising and rising. Daniel knows it's going to snap, everyone knows it, he just isn't expecting it to snap because of him crashing in the back of his own fucking teammate.

He's never felt like this, livid with rage and so much disappointment he doesn't even know how to deal with it. He's mean in the interviews, angry in the debrief, snappy with Michael. When he sees Max walking towards him while he's trying to leave the paddock, a hole in the shape of his fist left behind, he glares hard enough to make anyone run. But not Max, of course. He tries to talk to him, tries to explain, again, why it wasn't his fault. Daniel just tells him to get lost, barely stops himself from raising his fist again.

He's had enough. Of the car, of the team, of Max. He wants to be left alone. Obviously though the universe has decided that he's not suffered enough for a day, because when he finally gets to his hotel room there are numbers on the inside of his wrist. Coordinates.

Without really meaning to, he finds himself looking them up. Closing the tab, opening it again, carefully putting them in, once, twice, three more times.

Baku. The coordinates are in the paddock.

He feels nauseous. His hands are shaking when he goes to grab his notebook. Everything suddenly makes terrible sense. Not getting soulmarks for so long, the coordinates all around Europe, the karting numbers. Spain 2016. The 33.

He turns the pages, hoping the numbers will change, hoping he is making it all up. Irritatingly though, Sebastian had been right once again. He just knows. His soulmate isn't some pretty girl waiting for him in France.

His soulmate is Max Verstappen.

[nomidreams]

god i finally watched new episodes my honest reaction is jgiwoaoKzmxmkwkakkak

[politemagic]

eepy bois & their tamagotchis

i was having fun perusing this site & decided that they needed a tamagotchi to care for on tour.

[hirazuki]

Choose Your Own Adventure: Middle Earth Edition

Tolkien's universe is vast and varied, and has so much potential for adventuring outside of the main story events. Let's go on one together!