#he HELD THE THREAD ya'll
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Charlie Cox experience at Philly Fan Expo 2023
So LET”S TALK ABOUT ME MEETING CHARLIE. I’m actually going to make two posts - this one just about my experiences with Charlie, because they were incredibly meaningful and deserve their own post, and then another one about the rest of the con!
I’m going to talk about Charlie first, because of how amazing the experience was, one of the best I’ve had, especially at the autograph table. I’ve done photos, gotten autographs and such before from other celebs - from niche voice actors I loved to people like David Tennant - but this felt Really Really Big. Obviously, I was nervous as all hell because holy shit Charlie Cox, my favorite actor whose work altered the course of my life. I won’t lie - I’d been practicing what to say to him in case I freaked out, but I’m happy to say that everyone who reassured me it would go great, because he was so, so genuine and kind, were right.
The photo op happened first (and thank you to everyone on tumblr guiding me where to go, cause I was LOST about where that was happening), and that went fast. By that point in the con hall, I’d already ditched my Jessica Jones jacket and gloves cause holy shit it’s hot and I am a creature of snow and ice, and my hair was a mess, but honestly I didn’t care, cause there he is. You don’t get long, but he made the most of it and he was SO sweet. Ya’ll, he asked my name, said my name as he shook my hand, and called me ‘my dear’ in that beautiful voice.
I was literally on the moon, but it was time for the big question:
Will he hold the red thread from TRT?
So in a quiet, nervous, soft author voice, I asked, ‘would you be ok with holding this end of the thread?’
HE FUCKING DID.
HE HELD IT.
HE HELD. THE. RED. THREAD.
I’m fairly certain he doesn’t know about the fic at this point - he wasn’t sure where to hold it until I told him, but he loved that it lit up! AND THEN HE PUT HIS ARM AROUND ME AND I GOT TO PUT MY ARM AROUND HIM BACK.
I’m fairly certain I’m dead in the photo. My soul had left my body. I had ascended. I saw Jesus and he looked like Charlie. I had achieved fic author heights never imagined. My brain filled with enough serotonin and dopamine to sink a ship. I didn’t care that I was hot and sweaty or that my hair was messy or that my cosplay didn’t work out like I’d planned. I had been blessed.
also look at that forearm holy shit
I floated outta that gd room ya’ll. I’m pretty sure @wonderlandmind4 did the same. WE FROLICKED OUT OF THAT HALL LIKE
But things got even better at the autograph table, and I had one of the most touching experiences ever.
not me tearing up thinking about it.
That line was long, but I kept getting glimpses of him and I could already tell he was enjoying interacting with people, and he was making sure everyone got their bit of time with him instead of letting anyone rush people through. He was so happy looking, laughing and grinning, high fives and fist bumps for kids, chatting with fans. Which made me feel a little more confident.
I know some people wondered if I’d tell him about TRT, and I’d already decided I wasn’t going to. Instead, I really, really wanted just a second to tell him what his work as Daredevil had meant for me, as someone who became disabled around the same time Matt did as a kid, and who related to... a lot of what Matt went through in the show. I’d practiced it over and over again, and there was only a fifty percent chance I wouldn’t start crying while telling him, and I wasn’t even sure I’d have time to tell him depending on how much time we had.
He made time.
I got up to him with my art print holy shit he’s even more beautiful in person and his eyes are STUNNING. He said hi, and asked my name so he could personalize the autograph if I wanted (DUH, YES PLEASE), and he apologized about the line after we shook hands. I jokingly told him it was fine since I’d driven hours to get here. A little time in line wasn’t a bother. He even loved one of the buttons on my lanyard - the button of Matt wearing a heart crown specifically! And as he was writing, I knew this was my chance to tell him. He was still signing, so I just decided to go for it in case I ran out of time.
“I just wanted to tell you,” I said quietly, “as someone who became disabled as a kid around the same age as Matt did—”
And then he did something I didn’t expect, something I’d rarely seen anyone do, famous or not, and something I’d never had an actor or artist do for me.
He immediately set down the pen, leaned in close over the table, and made direct eye contact, while giving me the most genuine, gentle, encouraging smile I’d ever seen.
In that moment, I knew everything in him was listening, that he cared about what I was about to say and recognized that this was important to me, and that he’d closed the distance to make this conversation just... us. It felt personal in a way I’ve never experienced at a con or signing.
Just like that, I wasn’t afraid to tell him what I’d wanted to.
“And as someone who related to... a lot of what Matt went through, his struggles in the show, and especially the dark parts of season 3,” I said, more confidently now, “I wanted you to know that all the work you put in, the way you played it, the way you played Matt and treated it seriously, seeing that helped me process and heal from a lot of my own trauma and pain over what I’ve gone through with my illnesses. What you did was important and it really helped me. So I wanted you to know that, how much that meant to me, and to say thank you.”
The whole time I spoke to him, he kept direct eye contact, and didn’t look away once. He didn’t get antsy, or look like he wanted me to hurry up (which I’d have understood, cause damn, these are long days for him). He listened, fully engaged and leaning in, his eyes warm and soft and kind but incredibly serious. I’m not sure how often he’s been told something like this—a lot, I expect; his portrayal was just that good, and I know it was important to a lot of fans—but what I was trying to tell him clearly meant something to him. I felt heard, seen, and understood.
Charlie really does care about his fans. It isn’t an act. I’m sure of it now.
“Thank you, truly,” he said, just as quietly but with that honest smile, eye crinkles and all, and seeing it in person, that close up, I swear the room felt ten times brighter. “Thank you for coming to tell me that. It means a lot, the idea that something I did meant so much and that it could help you. I’m so grateful that you were able to come visit and tell me.”
We shook hands after that. He wished me a good day and I told him thank you again, and that was that. The interaction only lasted maybe a minute, but it meant the absolute world to me, as did what he’s done as Daredevil. And now he knows that.
#Philly Fan Expo#Charlie Cox#Daredevil#he HELD THE THREAD ya'll#my fanfic author life is now complete#and honestly as a fan i don't know if any other experience will ever top those moments I got with Charlie#he is so so kind and warm and wonderful#the way he immediately stopped and gave me his full attention when i started to tell him what it meant#i just had to stop for a second and collect myself because just...#he was *listening* and despite all the noise and chaos i suddenly had his full attention#the way he leaned in so the conversation felt like it was just us and the way he cocked his head and focused on me like#i can't think of a single celeb or interaction like that where i've felt that much like what i was saying to him mattered#(that's not dissing the other actors and celebs i've met. they've all been wonderful! but charlie definitely has a special kindness i think)#and i can now say having been that close to him and having spoken with him over something fairly serious#he is literally one of the kindest celebs i've met and the most genuine#you can literally see the warmth in his eyes when he looks at you. he's *legitimately* happy you're there to talk to him or see him#maybe one day he'll find out about TRT. i'm honestly not sure#but even if he doesn't at least I got a chance to tell him how much what he's done has helped me heal#from a lot of really... really hard things in my life#and according to a friend (who I didn't even know was there but spotted me talking to Charlie from another line!)#Charlie did indeed stay until WAY late signing everyone's stuff so that no one missed an autograph#he said his estimation of Charlie just shot way up because even hours later he was still taking his time with each fan that came up#Charlie has absolutely solidified as my favorite actor and one of the nicest people I've had the pleasure of meeting
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Need You
Marc Spector x f!reader
Word count: 2588
Summary: In the middle of the night, when Marc comes home, is when he needs you the most.
Warnings: S m u t. Nasty, filthy, smut. Specifically: oral (both male and female receiving), riding, and p in v (no protection), let's add praise kink to be safe. Which means this is NSFW. Which means minors DNI. Also language. That's a big one. Marc can't help it.
There's fluff too, probably very cheesy. So bad omg. Smut with no plot. Not beta read. Let me know if ya'll like <3
...
The bed dipped and you stirred, your mind foggy—caught between consciousness and the realm of sleep. Your bleary eyes cracked open, vision hazy in the darkness. You managed a quick glimpse at the digital clock on the nightstand.
3:55 AM.
Your eyes fell shut as you stretched your limbs like a cat under the sun, a tired little whine escaping you. You had work in a few hours.
Turning over, you collided with the warmth of bare skin. Strong arms immediately wrapped around you, calloused fingers burying under your too-large t-shirt to skim down the dip of your spine. A warm kiss to your temple had you sighing in contentment and you breathed in the fresh scent of body wash as your hands slowly glided over damp skin. Your fingers traced the familiar ridges of marred flesh, tiny scars from the past that led up to the thin golden chain nestled comfortably between you both.
"Marc?" His name felt thick on your tongue. You knew it was him by touch alone. He was the one that held you as if afraid of losing you. He’d dreamed about it enough times to fear it, and each time, you reassured him that he wouldn't.
"Yeah, baby, it's me," he muttered, drawing small circles over your skin, "didn't mean to wake you."
"S'okay. Missed you." You buried your face in the crook of his neck, your voice heavy with sleep. Marc hummed, a hand slowly trailing down your back to grab the globes of your ass under your thin panties, giving each of them a gentle squeeze.
"Missed you, too." He said into your hair, kissing your bed-slept strands. You tipped your head back to look him in the eyes. The moonlight peeking through the blinds did little to illuminate his features, but you could make out the contours of his face, the prominent line of his nose. His eyes, dark and hooded, were focused on nothing but you. It was a stare you were well acquainted with. To others, it was deadly. To you, it was nothing but pure affection.
"You okay?" You asked him as you always did after he came home from a mission, reaching up to cradle the side of his face. His stubble was rough under your fingertips, your thumb lovingly caressing his cheekbone. He didn’t shave, probably too tired, but you didn’t mind.
"Yeah," he sighed into your touch, lashes fluttering, "I'm okay. Better now." You could feel the hardness of his bulge through his boxers. He was needy, pushing his length against you in a silent plea for attention. You chuckled tiredly, shifting to press your lips over his eager ones. It started innocent enough, lips fusing like puzzle pieces in a dance you both knew well.
Marc peppered kisses over every inch of your face before gently sucking a bruise onto the delicate skin of your neck. You groaned, your fingers threading through his damp curls, easing him off just a bit.
"What's gotten into you?" You breathed, relishing the way his tongue lapped over the mark he'd left to soothe the ache.
"Need you, baby," he grunted, trailing his plush lips over your face, “need to feel you.”
"Yeah?" You shuddered, a throbbing need blooming between your legs, "then take what you need."
As soon as you uttered those words, one of his hands came to rest behind the nape of your neck, guiding you into another heated kiss. It was filthy this time—wet—tongues and teeth clashing sloppily. Not so innocent anymore.
Okay, so Marc wanted it messy. Who were you to deny him?
The night lamp was quickly switched on, and all thoughts on getting any sleep were left in the dust, not that you minded too much. You ended up between his legs with his boxers gone and your t-shirt flug somewhere, your knees cushioned by the pillow Marc had placed on the floor for you.
"Let me take care of you." You purred, breathing over his cock before spitting on it without hesitation. You watched it run down his length and over the curve of his balls, seeping into the sheets below. Your eyes followed the stream with fascination before you devoured him whole, working your lips back and forth, from base to swollen tip.
Marc was seated at the edge of the bed breathing heavily, one of his forearms propping him up while the other hand disappeared in your hair, guiding you.
"You take me so well, sweetheart," he whispered, eyes lidded as he watched you work, "love how you choke on my cock." And as if to prove his point he weaved his fingers into your hair, shoving your face into his pelvis. He made you sputter and wheeze, tears welling in the corners of your eyes. More spit dribbled past your lips and down his length, as you sucked and sucked and sucked.
"Fuck, baby, you know exactly what I need, don't you?" He groaned, his head lolling to the side lazily. You hummed, letting your glossy eyes flutter just a bit when you glanced up at him, making sure to hold his gaze for a moment before lowering them again. You knew that drove him crazy.
And it did, judging by the growl that rumbled in his chest. He tapped a finger over the tip of your nose, a signal for you to stop. You obediently pulled away with a loud pop, licking your swollen lips free of the salty precome that lingered.
"Fuck, c'mere," Marc snarled, surging forward and lifting you to straddle him. He fell back against the bed, letting your hands roam the expanse of his smooth chest, your fingers lightly grazing over his skin from collarbone to navel and back up again. You openly admired him—the sheen of sweat over his tanned skin, the swell of his muscles as he held you tight, his glazed eyes following your every move.
"You're beautiful," you murmured, carefully taking hold of the delicate chain around his neck before dipping forward to kiss him. His arms wrapped tighter around your form, holding you against him. He smirked into the kiss, the tiniest huff of laughter pouring over you.
"Never been called beautiful before," he said between kisses, giving your ass a nice slap. You moaned at the light sting, grinding your clothed cunt over his slippery cock, desperate to be filled. Marc hissed, his hand pressing down on your lower back to encourage your grinding, the tip of his cock wet and leaking over his stomach.
"Shit," he panted as you pressed your nose against his lovingly, "you wanna ride me, pretty girl?"
“Mhm.” You whimpered, feeling the pad of his thick finger press against your core, relishing in its moist heat before pulling the soaked fabric of your panties aside.
“Go ahead, baby.”
Firmly planting a hand on his chest, you lined up his cock with your entrance before taking a breath and sinking slowly, swallowing him inch by inch.
“Mmmm, God,” you moaned, pausing as soon as you took him to the hilt, “fuuuuck, Marc.”
“My cock too much for you, sweetheart?” You could hear the smugness in his tone despite his panting. His hands flew to your hips, slowly raising them to feel your walls flutter against his length before bringing you back down gently, “You can take it, I know you can—yeah, that’s it, baby.”
You choked out a sob as you rocked up and down his thick cock, whimpering at the delicious stretch. Despite having had him more times than you could count, it still made you breathless at how well he stuffed you, how deep he could reach inside and make you see stars.
"Baby, I think you got it all wrong," Marc grunted, his fingers digging into your skin as he guided you faster and faster.
"W-what?" You pushed Marc's damp hair away from his brow, watching how his hooded eyes were pinned to your face.
"I'm not the beautiful one here. Lookit you, you’re so fucking beautiful like this, so fucking pretty when you cream all over my cock, fuuuck." He looked at you with so much adoration, like he couldn't believe you were his. His chest rose and fell with each breath, and you continued to spear yourself on his length with your lip pressed between your teeth. His words went straight to your core, drowning him in your juices.
Within seconds Marc had you on your back, one of his hands pinning both your wrists above your head.
"So fucking beautiful." He said again, his heated gaze roaming over your body before he dipped down to give you a bruising kiss. His necklace swung in the duvet between your collarbones, the pendant barely skimming the surface of your skin.
You loved being under him, loved the way he moved over you and manipulated your body. He was the musician and you the instrument. He played you sweetly, expert fingers trailing over your skin and down the valley of your breasts to tweak a pert nipple before continuing his journey in search of the treasure held within you. He quickly dragged down your panties—now completely soaked—pulling them down your legs with your help and flinging the flimsy thing somewhere across the room to be forgotten.
"Goddamn." He breathed, dragging his middle and ring fingers over your cunt, spreading your juices over his digits. You were a sopping mess, coating his fingers with every sigh and mewl that escaped you. "You're so fucking wet, baby—you're soaking the sheets."
"Mhm," you moaned, feeling a bit vulnerable stretched out under him. Your thighs were spread so he could inspect you, and all you could see was his crown of curls between your legs, his breath fanning over your cunt until suddenly he spits on it. "Oh my God," you tossed your head back with a groan. Your toes flexed and your thighs shook as you fought to release your hands. You wanted to touch him, desperate to feel his skin under your fingertips.
"Marc," you begged through sobs, though you weren't too sure what you were begging for exactly, "p-please." He smiled, taking pity on you, releasing you from his grip.
"Be a good girl and let me take care of you now, can you do that for me?" He took his cock in hand and rubbed the underside over your messy cunt, tapping it until you were begging for him to put it in.
"I'll be good," you choked, "just put it in me, please, in me, in me, in me—" you chanted until he silenced you with his lips, and in one fell swoop he entered you to the hilt unforgivingly. You’d scream if you could but Marc swallowed all your moans and squeals, silencing you as he moved above you gracefully.
Your hands flew to grip his arms as he practically folded you in half, reaching the deepest parts of you with ease. You ripped your lips away to let out a series of whimpers.
"I know, baby, I know, I got you, doing so good for me," Marc heaved, "so fucking tight." He pressed his chest flush against yours, burying his face in your neck to silence his moans.
You were cockdrunk, mouth hanging open as he slammed into your sopping core with a precision that only he seemed to have. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, the head of his dick kissing you where you needed it most.
Suddenly your body seized up and your pussy tightened as you came.
You swore you were on a different plane, a different galaxy even, floating away as pleasure rippled through you like an electrical current. You could barely hear him cooing at you, whispering pretty things in your ear as you gushed all over his cock.
"I-I love you," the confession slipped past your lips quicker than you could think it through, too high off your blissful orgasm. You meant it—of course, you meant it—but this wasn't the way you had planned to tell him, blissed out your mind with tears blurring your vision and drool running down your chin.
It had lay heavy on your mind for a while now, ruminating, waiting for the right moment.
This hadn't been your intention.
You could barely react to your mistake, your mind now fuzzy with Marc's pretty whimpers.
"T-that's it pretty girl, that's it," he moaned, his breath warm against the shell of your ear, "you did so well for me, baby, so perfect. You're perfect." He babbled on as his thrusting became more sloppy and uncoordinated, chasing his own high.
"Come inside," you whined, barely finding your voice, "come inside me, Marc, please, I wanna feel you." One hand was buried in his hair while the other dragged down the expanse of his broad back, your nails marking his skin with angry red lines.
"Fuck," he moaned as he slammed into you one final time, releasing his thick spend inside.
He laid atop of you for a few moments, both of you struggling to catch your breath. Your limbs were a tangled, sweaty mess, useless for much else but laying there in a euphoric state.
Marc pressed a kiss over your collarbone before slowly holding himself up on shaky arms, gently removing his softening cock from inside you. His cum trickled out, a stream of white running down from your hole and straight into the sheets to join your juices.
"You're a mess," he tutted quietly, immediately diving down to clean you up with his skillful mouth. Within minutes he had you coming again, his tongue lapping in and around you in search of every drop you had to offer until you yanked him away by the hair from the overstimulation.
"You're gonna kill me." You panted, reaching for him with shaky hands. He chuckled, pulling you in his arms as he smiled into your neck.
"Hope not," he muttered tiredly, holding you in the same position he had you in when he first arrived home, "love you too much."
"Hmm?" Your eyes lose their haziness from earlier, instantly alert and searching Marc's features for any signs of falseness in the statement. But you couldn't. His brown eyes seemed to hold nothing but honesty. You hoped he didn't feel forced to return the sentiment. You knew he cared for you a great deal, but that didn't mean he was necessarily ready to express it.
"Marc," you could feel your brows pull together in concern, "you don't have to—I didn't mean for you—" He silenced you with a kiss, long and sleepy, pouring everything he had with that one action.
"I love you," he said, clear as day, surging forward to kiss your brow. "I love you." He said again, kissing the tip of your nose. "I love you." A kiss on each cheek. "I love you." A kiss to your chin. "I love you." A kiss to your swollen lips before resting his head over yours. And that was that.
You choked, tears springing to your eyes but you said nothing more, just curled yourself into him as he rubbed your back in soothing circles. After a while, you felt your eyes grow heavy and you gave the clock one final glance over Marc's shoulder.
5:21 AM
It's okay, you thought, nothing wrong with calling out from work later that morning.
You fell asleep moments later to the sounds of Marc's sleepy whispers-
I love you, I love you, I love you—
#marc spector smut#moon knight#moon knight fanfiction#marc spector#marc spector x reader#moon knight smut
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The Chain Game (2/3)
[If anyone knows who I can credit for the above Fanart; PLEASE let me know! This was something sent to me and I haven't been able to track down the artist myself yet...]
Part 2
RadioApple SMUT
Part 1: Here
Part 3: Here
Brainrot into one-shot fanfiction
Rating = 18+
Word Count = 1,726 Words
Ya'll can thank @lily-lilzy-lil for it. She fed me with her kind enthusiasm. Enough so, even that I might already have a part 3 in mind...
“Are we ready for another round?” Lucifer’s voice came from the surrounding darkness.
Alastor hung…kneeling. He was bound tightly by the chains winding across his chest; wrists secured within the links wrapping above his head. The large brimstone shackle was heavy on his neck; the chain to its ring hanging loose and dragging beside him.
“Heh…is that one of the questions?” Alastor smirked, his voice a crackling radio.
A chain slithered from the blackest of shadows; twisting and hissing as it found its way home; curling itself up Alastor’s naked torso and tightening painfully. He hissed as the links burned more brands across his bare, scarred skin.
“Yes.” Lucifer told him, stepping out from concealing shadows. “It was.” He was shirtless – bare-chested – just as Alastor was; his dress pants and shoes the only remnants to the clothing he had been wearing.
Alastor starred at the King’s exposed upper body. The radio demon’s green eyes flared wide – hungry and gleaming – drool seeping from sharpened teeth. The base to each of his antlers thickened; the smooth bone becoming heavy and long as points branched higher and higher above his head.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Lucifer asked him. “Still rutting I see…”
The demon growled; a low sound intermingling with the sharp sounds of a radio static.
“And, still losing.” Lucifer sighed, another chain slithering past him to lift and strike out just like a snake; catching and winding itself through the ring to the shackle just at the base of Alastor’s throat. The chain jerked and Alastor’s neck was pulled sharply forward.
“You look like you have sobered up, though.” Lucifer told him; approaching carefully. “Tell me, Alastor…now that my ichor has left your system; are you thirsty for more?”
Lucifer flicked clawed fingers; bringing sharp points against his own bare skin, just at the soft bunch of flesh that stretched across one shoulder. Slicing there, gold blood seeped and spilled from the cut; threading down his chest and abdomen.
Alastor snarled in answer; his eyes flaring brighter, antlers growing longer, his hair standing up – sharp and bristled; overwhelmed by his overpowering need.
“Yes…” The radio to his voice nearly screeching. “…your majesty…”
“Well, now.” Lucifer stepped closer. “Honesty and manners this time. A reward for you…I think.”
A chain dropped from Alastor, winding its way back into the dark as the other chains still supporting him shifted and moved. Alastor’s hands were released but the chains encircling his chest and neck were dragging him backward so that when they found their placements; the radio demon was stretched fully on his back; pinned to the ground. He tried to move; trying even to just to be able to prop himself up in order to see what the King was doing; but the chain tightly secured to his shackle held fast.
Alastor’s ears worked nervously. He was starring up into complete darkness; his body tense with the knowledge that Lucifer meant for him to not know what was coming.
When he felt Lucifer’s hands on his legs - moving them so that they were spread easily wide apart - and the King moved between them, Alastor growled. The sound was low and warning; promising a deadly reciprocation to whatever the fallen angel intended; given the chance…
He felt the King moving, climbing over him so that he leaned across and over Alastor’s chest; his hands supporting his weight from either side of Alastor’s head. Lucifer’s wide golden eyes matched Alastor’s flaring bright green ones; a wicked smile spread across the King’s face as he leaned himself closer to Alastor’s face. Baring his sharp teeth and flattening his ears, Alastor fought to lift his head; meaning to bite. The chain restraining his neck tightened and any give that Alastor had found in it before was now lost.
Laughing, Lucifer smiled down at the sinner demon lying just beneath him.
“I promised you your reward. I keep my promises, Alastor.” Lucifer told him, leaning closer so that they were face-to-face; Lucifer only just out of reach from Alastor’s sharp and pointed teeth. Lucifer tilted his head; fully exposing his still-bleeding wound he had opened across his shoulder.
Alastor’s growling choked in his throat; seeing the golden strands tracing down the King’s chest; sparce warm drops falling onto Alastor’s bare skin. The growling had turned into a brief but desperate whine for relief; Alastor’s clawed hands digging into the ground beside him; finding no purchase – claws cutting grooves into the dark floor.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to use that rather useful tongue of yours.” Lucifer was telling him; leaning back just enough to give Alastor the best angle for full access.
Without a moment for hesitation, Alastor’s tongue lashed from between his bared teeth – long and dripping - it lapped at the streams of golden blood. A groan emitted from Alastor; barbs from his tongue pressing roughly against the fallen angel’s skin as he hungrily scraped for every…last…drop.
Alastor’s eyes started glazing over and Lucifer chuckled.
“You’re not a very fast learner…are you.” Lucifer said darkly. It wasn’t a question. Alastor’s tension was gone. Drunk with the angel’s blood; he retreated his tongue – eyes closing as he let his head fall back.
Leaving him to his buzz; Lucifer crawled back down to kneel between Alastor’s long legs. He began working at the radio demon’s dress pants; reaching just behind the seam at the crotch, finding the bulge within and sliding Alastor’s seeping and engorged cock out.
Alastor shuddered; pleasurably. Gasping at the contact.
“You know,” Lucifer said, holding the large penis in his hand. “I, too, can do some pretty…interesting things with my tongue.” His eyes flared; sharply golden. “Shall I…demonstrate?” He asked in a purr.
“Yes.” Alastor was groaning again. “Your Majesty.”
“That’s my deer…” Lucifer told him.
Using his own tongue now, he let it slither from between his teeth. Just as a snake’s, it stretched and flicked itself so that it tortuously skimmed the underside of Alastor’s cock – touching all along the base and shaft underneath then going to flick at the soft skin along his balls.
Alastor was panting. A redness was spreading across his chest and face; a slick sheen of sweat coating his skin.
Lucifer continued to teasingly flick his tongue all along Alastor’s root; occasionally bringing it around to circle the shaft. The muscle there was tightening quickly.
Pausing briefly, Lucifer adjusted his hold on Alastor’s throbbing penis. “Careful, you don’t want to miss out on the best part.” Snaking his tongue out; Lucifer carefully elongated the shape so that the forks lengthened and thinned. Expertly, he directed the tips to the slit at the head of the slick cock; sliding them inside.
Alastor bucked and Lucifer pressed clawed hands into each hip; holding him steady and he worked his tongue so that it slid in further.
“Ah….” Alastor was lost. The stimulation was too incredible. Timing it perfectly, Lucifer snaked his forked-tongue deeper before slowly retreating it back out. Alastor’s body shook. Removing his tongue entirely; Lucifer took Alastor’s cock fully and quickly into his mouth; biting down sharply just as the organ tightened and sprayed cum.
Softly coiling his tongue all along the twitching cock; Lucifer sucked and swallowed before dropping it limp from his mouth.
Lucifer stood up from where he had been kneeling; there, between the radio demon’s legs.
Alastor laid, still panting and gasping. The deep red color his skin had turned was contrasting the brands of chain links in an interesting way. His clawed hands were shaking and he was drenched in sweat now. His body twitched; still feeling the waves of ecstasy crashing over it.
Lucifer laughed; stepping away to loosen his own dress pants now. He paused; then as if deciding something he slipped out of the remaining clothes entirely.
“You certainly know how to take your…licks.” Lucifer said. “If you actually are in the middle of a rut though…it’s you that could do with some mounting. I suppose you’re in enough of a manageable state that I could allow it.”
Lucifer stepped back to where he had left Alastor; still tightly restrained to the floor.
“What say you?” Lucifer asked him; the chains around Alastor coming loose now but never fully leaving him.
Alastor moved slowly. He was dazed; both from the remnants of ichor and the orgasm. Turning, he went to stand up; then thinking better of it he knelt back to the floor; eyes on the King.
“Your majesty…” Alastor knelt; looking up – compliant.
“Good boy.” Turning away from him – fully naked - Lucifer waved a hand and every chain holding Alastor dropped and went away into the dark; every chain save for the one holding to Alastor’s heavy brimstone collar.
Alastor smiled; standing and going to the King; dragging his chain with him.
Stopping to stand just behind Lucifer, Alastor paused; eyes flaring green, his antlers curling and twisting ever upwards.
“You may…regret this.” He said before he sunk the claws of his left hand into the flesh of Lucifer’s left hip; pulling the angel into him and spilling more blood. His right arm wrapped around the King, his clawed fingers finding his face and mouth; shoving them inside. Snarling; he bit deep into the wound at Lucifer’s shoulder; swallowing hard as golden liquid poured out.
“Ahhhhhh…” Lucifer sunk to his knees and Alastor followed him down. His teeth still buried in the fallen angel’s shoulder; he forced the King down on all fours. Lucifer choked on his fingers; golden blood pooling on the ground from his wounds.
Gasping, Alastor released Lucifer’s shoulder. His vision blurred and darkened; the influence of angelic blood mixing with the influence of his rut. He was already hard again; his erection pressing fully into Lucifer’s bare back.
“Now…my King.” Alastor was purring darkly; sliding his fingers from Lucifer’s mouth. “I will gift to you the most fitting of thrones…”
Lucifer gagged; blood and spit running down his chin.
“Do your worst…my deer.”
--‐‐--‐‐-‐--‐----‐---‐----------‐--‐----------------------------------------------------
Alastor jerked awake; déjà vu catching him even in his ‘half-asleep’ state.
“Oh, what the Hell-” Followed by a sleepy yawn. “What fucking time is it?”
The room was pitch black; then a bedside light came on.
“Uh...” Alastor said, shifting awkwardly in the bed.
“AGAIN!?” Lucifer exclaimed loudly.
“Well…” Alastor replied.
“If this keeps happening, you and you’re one-eyed monster are sleeping somewhere else!”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part 3
Brainrot credit:
@De Bergerac
The Masochism Tango
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fandom#hazbin alastor#alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel fanfiction#fanfiction#hazbin lucifer#lucifer morningstar#alastor x lucifer#alastor and lucifer#radioapple#appleradio#hazbin hotel smut#radioapple smut#my fanfic#the chain game#guess I can write gay smut#and it doesn't JUST do it for me#who knew?
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Nayshall's clothing (pt. 1)
I'm gonna be 100% honest with ya'll. I was writing a Bosch smut and for the life of me, I didn't know the names of the clothes he was wearing. But I didn't want to put "Robes" and move on, so I did a deep dive into Nayshall's clothes.
Nayshall is a blend of multiple cultures in one, but the general consensus of forums on Reddit and other forums was that Nayshall was inspired by Bhutan, Nepal, Indian, and Tibet cultures.
This is going to be split into multiple of parts because Nayshall has a lot of different types of clothes so I won't be able to cover it in one sitting. I barely even scratched the surface here.
If anyone is more knowledgeable than me and sees that I got something wrong please tell me in the comments. But I'm posting this because I want people to see the hard work the street-fighting devs put into this and the world of Nayshall.
Chuba
The chuba is a floor-length, left-crossing loose garment that is adjusted at the waist with a wide, usually red cloth belt, and pulled up to different degrees according to sex, rank or region. It is an extraordinarily adaptable garment worn by town dwellers, farmers, nomads, men and women alike, and is equally wearable on horse or motorcycle.
Chubas are pocket-less and held together with a waistband, with room in the front that serves as an “inside pocket” or inner pouch to store necessities such as food items, money belts, amulets, personal things, and even an infant in the bosom.
The chuba can be worn in different lengths, and the shorter the chuba, the more voluminous the pouch resulting from the overhanging material used to hold small items. Women wear their chuba ankle length, while men mostly pull them up the mid-calf or above the knee. Tibetan weather is fickle and temperatures can rise and fall within minutes.
Half-chupas: Just the skirt
Full chupas: Can be worn with a shirt
One-piece chupas: A one-piece dress
Town women: Wear their chubas floor length with pumps or high heel boots
Farmers and nomads: Double them over trousers
Ex: Rewancha, Yua, and Bosch all wore a form of chuba as their gown. The Chuba had 2 sleeves, but the locals usually only wear one sleeve and leave the other hanging loose. This is a way of adjusting the body temperature. When it gets hot, they take off one sleeve to cool down a bit. But if the temperature keeps rising they remove another sleeve too. We can actually see in Bosch's picture that the other sleeve is tucked in the back.
They often have soft fur, pulu, or colorful cloth on the collar, front, cuff, and lower hem of the gown.
5 types of robes could be made out of, Pulu woven fabrics, lambskin robes, sheepskin robes, woolen robes, and light robes.
Woolen robes are made with inner layers of sheep fur, so they are light and warm, making them popular in warmer, agricultural areas like Nayshall.
Pulu, the traditional Tibetan wool fabric, is made by fluffing and combing the wool into a thread by fingers, then weaving it with a wooden shuttle loom. Pulu robes are a favorite in pastoral areas as well as farmland.
Lambskin is ranked by degree, according to the length of lamb hair, curliness, and quality of the skin. 40+ lambskin is necessary to make a medium-class lambskin robe.
Shirts
pants
Modern and traditional
A growing trend among young Tibetans is blending traditional and modern casual clothing. Young Tibetans often try to find a balance between modern styles and their cultural heritage. It is not uncommon to see some Western-style clothing like jeans and t-shirts
The classic chuba robe is still everywhere, but Tibetan youth will make stylish adaptations. The cut of the fabric or the embroidered designs will be changed to something more contemporary. These changes show the desire to keep old traditions alive while making innovations to express personal style.
Ex. Same with the people in Nayshall they blend traditional and modern together. Shopkeeper Tsanpa wears jeans with his gho (Bhutan) tucked in. Yua wears modern shoes that resemble Tibetan boots, and Kina wears a beanie on top of her head.
note that Kina may also be wearing a Kora Yushu hat.
The Kora Yushu hat is made from a blend of yak and merino wool, and its fabric originates from Tibet and China. Kora sources the wool directly from Tibetan communities to ensure its quality and origin. The hat is lightweight, warm, and thin enough to fit beneath a hood or helmet, making it suitable for winter and mountain use.
Hairbeads
Tibetan hair jewelry, including braids and hair beads, is used to mark life milestones like birth, marriage, adulthood, and death. The jewelry often reflects the colors of nature.
Tibetan hair beads can be used by both men and women. In Tibet, long hair was recommended for both men and women, except for monks and nuns. Tibetan braids can signal a woman's marital status, social rank, and tribal affiliation. Tibetan men wear hair beads but there is no male equivalent.
Headdress
Tibetan headdresses vary by region, age, and marital status. For example, unmarried girls wear a single braid with a red hair string, called Xia Jiu in Tibetan.
Tibetan women wear headdresses on special occasions, such as festivals and their comings-of-age. Headdresses can be colorful and made of coral, turquoise, or other materials. For example, a "Bazhu" is a deluxe headdress made of coral or turquoise with gold or silver earrings. Tibetan women also wear silver bracelets on their left hand and white conch bracelets on their right.
Jewelry
Tibetans traditionally wear jewelry, which is often made from gold, silver, and precious stones. The most common gems used are turquoise, coral, and pearls, which are used in necklaces, earrings, hair ornaments, and to decorate ritual objects. Tibetan jewelry can also be made from cow bone, amber, shell, and agate.
Tibetans wear a variety of jewelry, including ornaments made of gold and silver, as well as jewelry made of amber, agate, jadeite, pearl, and ivory. Tibetan jewelry traditionally features materials from across South Asia, East Asia, and the Middle East, and the symbols on Tibetan jewelry are usually from Himalayan Buddhism. Tibetans like to wear many ornaments and jewelry, such as Buddha beads, hair bands, hair accessories, belts, prayer beads, and necklaces.
Jewelry is a symbol of status and wealth in Tibetan culture, and each design has a specific meaning. For example, ornaments with symbols of animals, flowers, and stones are often given to commemorate special occasions. Some also believe that wearing gold enhances spiritual power over evil spirits. Offering jewelry to holy statues is thought to generate positive virtue for the donor.
This article also goes into the types of ornaments they use in their jewelry
Jewelry can also serve as a talisman, with different amulets protecting against disease and harm. For example, coral and turquoise are said to ward off evil spirits and illness.
Many Tibetan jewelry pieces are passed down from generation to generation. For example, some Tibetan-style pendants are used in Buddhism as ritual instruments to subdue demons, which are believed to dispel sins and bring people power, intelligence, and courage. Many of these pendants also have Sanskrit inscriptions of a religious symbolic nature.
Braids
Braids are also a symbol of strength, wisdom, and identity for some indigenous men and boys. They can also represent a connection to the earth, ancestors, and the creator. For example, in Native American tradition, hair is a signifier of spiritual practice, and braiding demonstrates strength in unity
boots
sumba shoes
Tibetans typically wear boots, which are more cultural representations than practical clothing. However, due to the prevalence of mass-produced shoes, traditional Tibetan boots are no longer the daily footwear for ordinary Tibetans. Instead, they are now usually part of ceremonial attire.
Tibetan boots are a significant part of the Tibetan way of life. They are more cultural than practical, and are worn to represent different regions and environments. For example, boots with a pointed toe are suitable for different types of terrain, and can be worn with a garter in cold weather. Boots from different regions of Tibet have different styles and qualities. For example, boots from Chamdo and northern Tibet are simple, while boots from Shannan and Xigaze are more delicate.
Tibetan boots are commonly made from cowhide, pigskin, corduroy, and pulu, a traditional woolen fabric. Other materials used include cloth, canvas, velvet, leather, and felt. The original boots were made from yak hide, and the soles were embroidered with patterns like dragons and snakes, and the shoes were decorated with red and green woolen cloth.
Tibetan boots come in two general types: short leg and long leg. Most Tibetan boots are lined or padded, though some may be unlined. The heads of corduroy boots are made of cowhide, and many kinds of pulu boots have cowhide soles.
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Preview for The Queen Bee and the Vesperia-Chapter 2:
Hey ya'll @muggle-born-princess here about to post the preview to my Chloé and Zoé semi AU Fanfic: The Queen Bee and the Vesperia.
For those who don't know, this is one of my fanfics that I plan to post on my @pro-bee-sisters blog as well on my AO3 and DeviantART both. To summarize the plot: It’s basically inspired by the Mark Twain classic "The Prince and the Pauper" as well as the Barbie adaptation: "The Princess and the Pauper."
I did make Chapter 1 almost a year ago, where you can find on my AO3 and DeviantART both. (Click the links on the names)
But for now, here is the sneak preview to the next chapter; where compared to the last chapter, where we knew what Chloé is like or will be like in the story, this time we will focus more on Zoé and how her role will play it in the story.
So please, enjoy this sneak preview:
Chapter 2: Chloe the Queen Bee and Zoe the Vesperia
Down in the basement of Audrey’s fashion house, there lived and slept a young girl that looked almost about Audrey’s own daughter, Chloe’s age and even appearance. She had a similar body type, light blonde hair, and both also shared the same colored-blue eyes as the young girl woke up to the sound of the basement’s air conditioner awakening her; though this didn’t bother her at all due to the room’s hot and stuffy environment. The young girl yawned and stretched herself at of the rusty bed she slept in and looked down as she saw her one and only companion she had: A stuffed honeybee that she called Mr. Buzzy.
“Time to start another day in Hell, Mr. Buzzy.” The young girl let out a sigh.
“VESPERIA!” A similar voice shouted, which made the young girl gulp. The door to the basement then slammed open hard and the reveal of Audrey Bourgeois came out.
“You’re still in bed?! Lazy as ever!” The fashion designer screamed, and all the poor girl could do was take it.
“Well, come on!” Audrey ordered. “You got a job to do. You need to get the thread I’d ordered, restock the fabric, polish the mannequins, and I need you to go into town to mail off a new dress line by two o'clock!” Audrey completed her orders. “You understand me, Wasp?” Zoe glared at her with despair in her face.
“My name is not Wasp, or Vespa, or even Vesperia. It’s Zoe!” The young blonde fought back, but her “employer” didn’t seem to care about the correction at all.
“Just get it done.” Audrey growled through her teeth as she walked out of Zoe’s “room.” The young blonde glared at her “foster mother” and then took a deep breath while she held her dearest bee plushie to her chest. She then began to talk to it as if it were real.
“Don’t worry Mr. Buzzy, we’ll get out of here and reunite with daddy again.” The young girl flashed a smile now and finally decided to get ready for her day.
Making her way up to the Haunt Coutre fashion house upstairs in her day clothes and all cleaned up now, Zoe began to start on her duties for the fashion designer, and those that worked for her.
“Good morning, Anasis.” Zoe sweetly told one of Audrey’s employees.
“Hmph, about time you’re here, Wasp” The Anasis woman snapped with venom. “Didn’t you hear your mother, you have supplies to get for us!”
“She’s not my mother,” Zoe argued back. “She’s only here so I can help pay back my father!” Another snobby woman joined the conversation.
“Oh, you mean the actor from New York?” She teased critically as she pinned on a sash to a dress she was currently working on. Anasis laughed viciously. “Oh yeah, how poor is he again?” Both women laughed with malicious intention, that all Zoe could do was angrily glare at the two rude women.
“Vesperia, come now!” Audrey shouted from across the room. Zoe sighed and walked up towards the horrible baroness who was at the front door, aggressively glaring at her.
“Honestly, you are just as worthless as my own family!” The blonde girl walked out the door as the older woman handed her a list of tasks as well as a golden tote bag to help the girl carry whatever she needed to get for her boss.
“And don’t be late!” The bossy woman demanded as she closed her door. After that was finished, Zoe once again let out a sigh of sadness before heading off until town to start her orders.
Meanwhile, at a school called College Francoise Dupont, a bespectacled girl with red hair wearing a purple sweater vest and teal-blue skirt was waiting anxiously outside the school, holding two cups of coffee.
“Oh, I hope she’s not running late!” The girl started to panic, to the point where she almost dropped the coffees. Meanwhile, two other girls, a girl with blue-black pigtails and another redhead with glasses, were viewing the anxious girl from a distance. The redhead shook her head and smirked.
And that's all for now, everyone! Hope you all enjoy it!
P.S.
COMMENTS AND CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM AND FEEDBACK ARE ACCEPTABLE!
#miraculous ladybug#miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir#chloe bourgeois#zoe lee#queen bee#vesperia#ao3#fanfiction.net#miraculous AU#the queen bee and the vesperia#princessgemsart#muggle-born-princess#deviantart#pens-and-gems#archive of our own#pro-bee-sisters
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Oof the angst when the Bridgertons find out about Penelope is gonna Hurt especially for Colin who I know almost went bat shit crazy trying to find out what happened to Penelope. Add in the fact that this btch Lady Whistledown keeps taunting them about bits and pieces about his Pen and keeps changing what she says like one moments she's insinuating that she's been tortured and another time is that Pen is being held captive and also times where LW comments about Pen being dead and Colin is hair thread away from snapping because he knows LW knows exactly what happened to Pen and he, Eloise and the rest of the Bridgertons will stop at nothing to figure out the truth.
Ya'll gonna hate me for this but I can probably make it extra sad. (We really should find a happy post for this au)
After Lucy accidentally snatches Penelope's hood and Felicity's wig and they see red hair on Lady Whistledown and Black Cat the Bridgerton brain cell starts working overtime. The clues are there but if they were wrong it would be like losing them all over again.
Before the confrontation, one of the sisters had managed to find a video of the night Penelope died. Every single one of them were horrified. But that wasn't right, they have no memory of this! That night they were . . .they were . . . they were? Ugh! It's all fuzzy!
Colin, Gregory, and Lucy manages to track Lady Whistledown and Black Cat to a church. They were supposed to be meeting some of their clients but their siblings had gone off to take care of them. (aka the other spouses)
The masks comes off, it's official, Penelope and Felicity Featherington are alive.
The sisters are about to make their escape when Colin dropped to his knees in front of Penelope, begging her to look into his mind and see what he saw that night. He understands why she hates him now but he needs her to do this.
Gregory and Lucy ask the same thing of Felicity.
Free access into a heroe's mind? How could they refuse?
Going into their minds the sister's saw that night from a different perspective.
"You were mind controlled."
"You did try to save me."
Colin hugs Penelope, Gregory and Lucy hug Felicity. Eloise and Hyacinth rush in not long after and give their own hugs to their best friends. The other Bridgertons join in as well too.
"The others got away, but hey with you two it would be no problem tracking them down!" One of them say.
Penelope and Felicity look at each other. "No."
"No?"
"No," the sisters said more firmly. "We have a lucrative business. Why would I give up being Lady Whistledown just because we cleared up that night?"
"I actually enjoy being Black Cat as well," Felicity added. "Plus the ones that were here tonight were actually close friends. Why would we give them up?"
The masks went back on. Lady Whistledown and Black Cat left the church.
#bridgerton#polin#gregory x lucy x felicity#hero au#so who hates me?#honestly i wouldn't give up my nice business either#the featherington sisters are making money and are happy with their business#give that up for a bunch of heroes? please
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Feathers and Thread
wordcount: 0.9K
tags: shibari, bloodletting, knifeplay, consensual but not safe or sane, horn stimulation
synopsis: Schlatt and Phil try two things in bed: blood, and shibari, both of which are new to Schlatt, neither are new to Phil
note: god I fucking love schlattza, it's so aesthetically pleasing to me for some god awful reason. two dilfs getting it on? sign me the fuck up. hope ya'll enjoy and if you did consider dropping a like or checkin the Ao3 port
https://archiveofourown.org/works/48459538
"C'mon idiot," Schlatt urged as he watched Phil tug off his robe.
"Ever heard of patience?" Phil chided in response as he flared out jet black wings, back to his partner. He glanced over his shoulder, "It'd do you some good."
Schlatt rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, just get over here and fuck me."
Phil found himself inching closer to Schlatt a little slower, "So needy," He glided onto the cushions with ease, running a finger across the red rope that held Schlatts body. The twine ran between contours of muscle, framing every inch like one would with a piece of art, "Isn't there a rule about touching master pieces?"
Schlatt whined, "Break the rule, now."
Phil gave a hum of amusement, he trailed a finger across the knots, smirk on his face predatory. He lowered his mouth to Schlatts throat, running sharpened fangs and giving teasing nibbles along the way. From the crux of where neck and shoulder met to the cusp of his jawline small indentations of Phil's fangs lay. The ram shuddered when Phil brought a hand to grasp at a curved horn, digging fingers between grooved enamel.
Phil stretched out his wings again, muscles achingly stiff, in the same way cords held Schlatt on display. Pretty red strands holding wrists together, the same color as the blood that pulsed just under his skin. The blood that was one wound away from spilling out, the warmth that Phil craved to coat his form once more. The wet that often meant violence but could be shed under the light of loyalty and desire. He pushed his nail (sharp like talons), against the underside of Schlatts pectoral, sliding until a waterfall of red gushed forth. Schlatt keened at the unrelenting pressure morphing to a clean slice across his chest, the rope soaked up an uncanny amount.
"So calm," Phil purred, taking a blood slathered hand across the vermilion painted expanse of skin. He rested his hand on Schlatts cock, slowly dragging from the base to the tip, "So perfect."
Schlatt shuddered out a moan, he couldn't help the slight buck into the touch. Phil gladly teased the back of a nail along the underside and it made Schlatt tense entirely, pray for the twitch he couldn't help.
It garnered a hum of laughter from the demigod, "You know I wouldn't kill you Schlatt, don't you?"
Schlatt nodded, "Yeah."
Phil brought a wing prod between Schlatts shoulder blade, forcing him to puff out his chest a bit more. A lithe hand curled around a horn again, squeezing, a throaty groan spilled from Schlatt at the touch. The hand resting on his cock stroked once more, and then again, pre mixed with blood easily. Schlatt tensed as Phil circled a claw at the base of his horn, unfiltered moans bubbled up despite the fear. Phil leaned in once more, mouth dangerously close to Schlatts ear, the ram could hear each breath echoing his own.
"Then how come you're so scared?" The voice is cold compared to the warmth resting heavily between his fingers. The heat on his words and the ardor suddenly on his actions, giving a faint tug to the horn.
"Fuck! Fucking shit," The words tear through Schlatt like a seam ripper, he comes undone at frayed edges like denim, "Phil," There's a catch in his voice. He gives a sharp inhale, "Phil!"
Phil musters a heady laugh at the neediness his partner displays, the lust on his laugh is venomous, "C'mon, cumming so soon?"
Schlatt whines, he squirms in his constraints. The blood soaked rope caresses him just right, shimmering ever so faintly in the low light. His mouth cracks open in a silent moan as Phil brings a hand to caress his horns, arch of a wing forcing his back curved. A sense of lightheadedness floods him as the slits open a little more, more of that delicious crimson seeping out.
"So impatient and for this? I'm disappointed," Phil chided as he gave the final strokes, urging his partner to orgasm through each step of the way.
Schlatt gave a drawn out moan, a high pitched call of Phils name as he climaxed. And the demigod kept up the simple motions across the entire span, red mixed with white into a sickly pink. He brought his hand, slathered in blood and cum past his wrist, to his mouth and licked. Forked tongue sliding between digits and Schlatt watched, tried too at least, he was a bit too lightheaded to fully focus.
"Phil," Schlatt keened, leaning heavily against Phils wing, he retracted it letting Schlatt slump back into the cushions. He absently reached for his mate, "Phil…"
"Yes darling?" Phil asked softly, littering Schlatts form with kisses.
Schlatt groaned, arching into the gentlest touch, "Was I good?"
Phil nodded, "Amazing, I haven't had a chance to make someone bleed in bed for years," He smudged the blood along the wounds.
"Do we have any potions?" Schlatt asked, he gave a weak chuckle, "I think I might die if I just stay like this."
"I already have plenty," Phil said as he opened his inventory and pulled out a potion, he popped the cork and brought the rim to Schlatts lips.
He eagerly drank the liquid, it didn't mend his flesh instantly, but it cleared the fog in his head. He gave a couple bleary blinks, "Phil."
"Yeah darling?" Phil asked gently as he sat down beside Schlatt.
"I love you," Schlatt said, "I know you just cut me open and gave me a handjob but I love you."
Phil gave a soft smile, he leaned down and nuzzled into Schlatt, "I love you too."
Schlatt hummed appreciatively, he motioned vaguely and Phil laid down beside him. He buried his head into the crook of Phils neck, "Can we have pancakes tomorrow."
"Of course dear," Phil said, running a hand through tangled brunette locks.
#dsmp#schlattza#jschlatt x philza#philza x jschlatt#smutfic#smut fanfiction#lemon#writing#fanfic#fanfiction
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❛ you look like you've got something to say. ❜
@xenjoyedthat pressed play!
In a flood of red and blue, with occasional black and white thrown in, green became even more vivid when it appeared in the corner of his vision. All it had taken was a drift of his gaze, the habit of a lifetime to assess and respond to potential trouble, and every other object blurred out of focus, every other sound dimmed except one from that singular view screen.
He heard Gamora's laugh again. That irreplaceable sound that had soared through his atmosphere, filled it with all the light and warmth that it could ever hold, the sound that had become the most beautiful song he had ever heard. Every hall he walked through, every room he sat in, every view he took in--all felt hollow, void without the potential of him saying some ludicrous thing (easy enough to do) in the hope to see that lift of silver brows, that fond eye roll and to hear that laugh echo in the space, in his heart.
"...She survives in every other universe, doesn't she."
If anyone would know that, it would be the person beside him, the one who held the threads of Fate in their hands as she parsed through them--well, the code strings of Fate, perhaps.
"Not surprisin', really. She's the most capable, fierce, intelligent, an' powerful woman in the galaxy. It'd take a real idiot to fail her so much that she'd die in the way she feared most." In the hands of the monster that had already taken so much from her, alone...not dying among her friends.
He tore his gaze from the view screen, sensing what might be a concern of the other, a placating hand lifted. "Don't worry, Lyla--even if I could, I'm not goin' anywhere that'd cause ya'll any more work. Every reality of her has better odds the further away I am."
He didn't have to be an AI or from the future to calculate that, just a man who consistently got close to people only to lose them.
A smile he didn't feel graced his features, a forced lightness in his step and tone as he began to walk away.
"But seriously, how can you have this nice a place with this many recruits an' not have a decent sound system for music, huh? I'm tellin' ya, I can rig somethin' up in less than a week an' it'll sound like you've got live concerts goin' on here!"
#xenjoyedthat#v; intergalactic planetary#;read more for length#// I --absolutely wrote a book my apologies hence the read more#// I just am never ok about how much Quill misses her and this idea wouldn't leave my head#tw; death mention#// just in case
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Bittersweet Symphony:
Chapter 2
Pairing: Dean x Kaylee (OFC)
Warnings: ALLLLLLLL OF THE FLUFF, I apologize to you and your teeth in advance for this one, SMUT, mentions of morning sickness, Dean and Sam being sweeties. Singing and flashback are in italics. Beta’d by the always lovely and amazing @clo-heda if there are still mistakes, they’re mine. Pics are not.
A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this next chapter in Bittersweet Symphony!!!
Chapter 1 HERE
Kaylee laid in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep after throwing up again. It was late, Sam and Dean had long gone to bed and the bunker was quiet. She sighed and placed a hand over her still flat stomach. She felt a warmth in her chest, knowing there was someone there, someone she felt she could talk to without having to explain herself.
“What do you think?” she asked, speaking to the baby “You're here for a reason, so what do you say you and I figure that out together huh?” No one answered, but in her heart of hearts, she knew what her choice was. “Okay,” she said out loud “we'll do that then. You and me against the world.”
The next morning, Kaylee told the boys her decision.
“I'm keeping the baby.” she told them.
They both smiled and then Sam spoke up
“We talked about it,” he said “and we both agreed that if that's what you wanted to do, we'd love to have you stay.”
“Here?” she asked “With a baby?”
Dean nodded
“With all the other hunters gone, Cas and Jack only pop in every once in a while, it'd be nice to have the company.” he said. Dean was lying through his teeth, the fact that she could leave made him sick to his stomach.
“Guys, I don't know.” Kaylee said “Babies make noise at weird hours, they poop and ya know, grow up. Are you really sure you guys want that? Here?”
Dean looked at Sam and then nodded
“Hey, it's not like the kid would know anything different.” Dean said “And so what? Babies make noise, that's what they do.”
“But what about hunting?” Kaylee asked
“If anything,” Sam said “this is the safest place for you and the baby. This place is like Fort Knox against the supernatural.”
This was too much, Kaylee thought, too much generosity, too much change and way too much heartache for one person to handle.
“Let me think about it.” she told them “I don't want to cramp ya'lls style or whatever.”
Dean laughed at this
“Yeah, because this guy,” he pointed at Sam “has so much style.”
The next day, Kaylee woke up sick, and again, Dean found her in the bathroom retching up nothing. It went on like this for weeks, no matter what they tried, Kaylee would be sick all morning, the symptoms finally subsiding long enough for her to eat something, even then her appetite wasn’t what it used to be.
“I'm saying, I want to eat you guys out of house and home, but I just can't.” She said, exhausted and cranky from nearly no sleep. After two straight weeks of being sick and useless, she realized that maybe the guys had a point. Kaylee had decided to take them up on their offer to stay in the bunker.
“Have we tried peppermints yet?” Sam asked as he tapped on his laptop “this says it'll soothe your stomach.”
“I think that's the only thing we haven't tried.” Dean said as he thought.
“We need groceries anyway,” Sam said with a shrug “I'll run to the store, you,” he said and looked at Kaylee “get some rest.”
“You two damn near have me bed ridden.” Kaylee said impatiently
“You're growing another person in your body,” Dean said “you're doing all the heavy lifting.”
Once Sam had left, Dean walked with Kaylee back to her room as her phone rang, it was the doctor confirming her first appointment.
“Yep, gotta go to that too.” Kaylee said with a yawn as Dean tucked her into bed. “I swear, I've been on hunts where I was less exhausted.”
“Again, you're growing a human, you're gonna be tired.” Dean reminded her as he sat beside her. He chewed on his lip as Kaylee got comfortable. When she caught sight of his expression she asked
“What's eating you?”
“Has Devin?” He asked and Kaylee shook her head “At all?” Dean asked and she shook her head again.
“He didn't want to be a part of this anyway,” Kaylee reminded him “since he kicked me out, I haven't heard a peep from him and I'm not reaching out.” Tears welled in her eyes as she laid her head back against the pillows. “Sorry, I'm crying at the drop of a hat right now.” she sniffled as Dean handed her a box of tissues.
“You're fine, cry if you want to.” Dean said with a gentle smile.
“Can I have a hug?” she asked and he nodded. He pulled her into his arms and ran a hand up and down her back trying to soothe her. She cried bitterly into his chest and clutched him tightly. Once she had calmed down, she looked up at Dean and said “Thanks again, sorry for using your shirt as a tissue.”
“That's what washing machines are for.” Dean said with a shrug and she let out a laugh, which in turn, made him smile. “There we go, there's a smile. When is your appointment?” he asked
“Day after tomorrow.” she told him as she laid her head on his chest.
“You want some company?” he asked “Because I'll go with you if you want.”
Kaylee thought about it and shook her head
“No, I think I can handle it.” she told him
“I know you can handle it,” Dean told her “I'd be more for moral support.”
Kaylee thought for a few long moments and then looked at him, nodding.
“I could really use the moral support,” she said “but I don't know.”
“Well, talk to me,” he said “what's on your mind?”
“I just don't wanna over step my boundaries,” she told him “it's bad enough that you guys are just letting me stay here and I don't wanna put you out or make you feel obligated to me when you aren't.”
He chuckled a little and said
“I'm just asking to go to a doctor's appointment with you to hold you hand,” he said “I'm not asking you to marry me.” She laughed as she wiped away her tears and he went on “I'm not doing it because I feel an obligation to you, you're my friend and I know you're upset. I'm just trying to help.”
Kaylee wiped away her tears and nodded
“Okay, thank you.” she told him.
Without realizing it, Dean had taken change of caring for Kaylee. She’d come to rely on him after he had volunteered to go to her first doctor’s appointment. As her belly expanded, it became harder and harder on him to leave her behind while he and Sam hunted. He would be in knots the entire trip, anxious to wrap up and get back to her.
“Are you sure you’re not in love with her?” Sam asked.
“Shut up Sam.” Dean snapped one evening.
In his heart, he knew he was in love with Kaylee but he wasn’t sure if he’d ever say it out loud.
One night, Dean had gotten up, unable to sleep, when he heard shuffling around in the kitchen and what sounded like someone softly singing. As quiet as a mouse, he crept toward the kitchen and looked around the corner to see Kaylee at the stove with her arm across her belly and she was singing.
“And that was the day that I promised I’d never sing of love if it does not exist, but darlin you are the only exception.” She sang and smiled down at her belly.
Dean felt his heart swell and a fond smile cross his face, he didn’t know she could sing and she was really good. He waited until she was swaying, in her own world before he cleared his throat and walked in.
“Hey,” she greeted him “what’re you doing up in the middle of the night?”
“I should be asking you the same thing,” he said and nodded at the tea kettle that was currently whistling on the stove.
“She likes chamomile tea,” Kaylee said “it’s the only way I can get her to quit kicking the shit out of me so I can go to sleep.”
“Here, I’ll fix it, you sit down.” He told her as he made his way over to her. She inhaled sharply and said
“Jesus, that was a hard one.” Dean chuckled and she said “yeah, you laugh now, but you get kicked in the bladder and see how you like it.”
“I’ll pass.” He said as she eased herself on to the bar stool. Dean poured her tea and added a little honey just the way she liked and then sat down with her. “I didn’t know you could sing.” He said after a long stretch of silence.
“She likes it.” Kaylee said with a fond smile as she drank her tea “I’m guessing you heard me huh?”
“A little,” He said “I heard someone in the kitchen and investigated, I wasn’t expecting a concert.”
Kaylee laughed and the baby kicked harder.
“Boy, she’s active tonight,” Kaylee said “I swear she goes bananas if she hears you or Sam.”
Dean grinned, he was torn between amusement and wonder, the baby recognized his and his brother's voices, that had to be some kind of sign.
“She’s like our little buddy you know?” He asked “It’s gonna be weird when she’s actually here and not in your belly any more.”
Kaylee nodded
“Yeah, tell me about it.” She said, her free hand on her belly “It’s weird to think about ya know?” Dean nodded and watched as her tummy twitched and he grinned again.
“She’s going to town.” He said and nodded to her belly.
“Yep,” She said and grabbed his hand “feel that?”
He held his hand still and then felt a push on his palm. His heart seemed to squeeze and flutter all at the same time, she was saying hello and he loved it.
“Remember the first time you felt her kick?” Kaylee reminded him and he nodded. Of course he remembered, the memory was burned into his brain in the best way possible.
“Yeah, like butterfly wings.” He said, his smile deepening.
“Dean?” She asked and looked up at him. He looked back at her as her eyes bore into his. Without hesitation, they both leaned in, their lips finally meeting. Dean’s heart beat painfully in his chest as she opened her mouth and kissed him again, her fingers threading through his hair. It felt like his birthday, Christmas and the 4th of July all at once in his stomach, blood rushed in his ears as they kissed again, his hand moving from her belly to the back of her head. When they pulled back, their chests were heaving.
“I’m sorry, I just-“ she started and he shook his head.
“No don’t,” he said “I’ve been wanting that for a long time.”
“Since when?” She asked him
“Pretty much since the night we met,” he said with a small smile “I just thought you were too good for me and I didn’t want to lose my best friend.”
She kissed him again, her free hand on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her. The baby’s kicking had subsided as they kissed over and over, years of feelings finally bubbling over. They pulled back and he asked
“My room?” And she nodded.
She quickly finished her tea and he took her by the hand to his bedroom where he closed the door behind them. They climbed into bed and she snuggled close to him, propping pillows under her belly so that she could lay on her side.
“Sorry about all the extra padding.” She told him and he laughed as he rolled to his side.
“You’re fine,” He said and kissed her forehead “I just want you to be comfortable.”
“I am,” She told him as he tucked her hair behind her ear “I really am.”
They threaded their fingers together and kissed. He mouth moved gently over hers, he relished in the sensations; his mouth on hers, her body against his, her scent wrapped around him as he squeezed her fingers tightly. She melted into him, drawing herself as close to him as she could, her hand flat on his shoulder blade.
“Dean,” she breathed as his lips worked their way down her chin and jawline “mh Dean.”
He silently cheered as his cock began to swell, her moaning his name was his new addiction. He kissed behind her ear and down the column of her neck as she started to squirm. She reached down and pulled her t-shirt up and off, he followed suit, discard his shirt on the floor with hers. He pulled back and grinned down at her.
“You’re so beautiful.” He told her as he got on his hands and knees over her, careful not to squish her or the baby. She slid her hands around his waist and smiled as they kissed. Kissing him was intoxicating, he was by far the best kisser, they way he used his lips and his tongue to dissolve her into a writhing mess wasn’t something she’d experienced before.
“Dean, god I want you.” She told him, electricity pulsing through her skin and going straight to her core. He pulled back and nodded
“I want you too, but,” he paused looking for the right words then finally said “I’ve never fucked a pregnant chick before. That I’m aware of.”
They both laughed, taking a few minutes to regain their composure before she said
“Well, I’ve never been fucked while pregnant so this is gonna take a second.”
He nodded and asked
“You want to try riding me?”
“I’ll crush you if I try to ride you,” she pointed out “try getting behind me.”
“Okay,” He said “and for the record you would not crush me.”
“You wanna try?” She asked and he nodded.
“What’s the worst that happens?” He asked as he untied his pajama pants “We switch positions?”
“Or I squish you to death while fucking you.” She said as she shimmied out of her yoga pants and panties.
“If that’s how I go,” he said as he took off his pants and underwear “then that’s how I go.”
She rolled her eyes as the pile of clothes on the floor became larger. He climbed over top of her and unhooked her bra, throwing it to the floor as his lips gently caressed her skin. His hands traced over every curve as he pulled her up and into his lap. Once she was settled on her knees above him, she reached between them and flicked the head of his cock through her soaking folds.
“Holy shit,” he said “you’re wet from just me kissing you?”
“You’re the best kisser I’ve ever had.” She told him as she lowered herself on top of him. They both moaned as he pushed into her tight channel. Once she was fully seated on him, they both began to move, their hips meeting thrust for thrust. Dean’s hands rolled up and down her back as they kissed, her arms wrapping around his neck.
Kaylee wasn’t sure if it was because they had finally given into years of sexual tension, the fact that her senses were heightened or that everything on her body was more sensitive than it had been, but having sex with him felt different. Like she finally found a long lost object.
“Dean,” she moaned “oh god, Dean.” She moved her hips faster as he filled her.
“Fuck,” Dean cried “just like that, god that feels good.”
The pressure inside her seemed to flow through every cell in her body, the overwhelming pleasure of him being so close and being inside of her felt better than she ever imagined it could be. Dean placed a hand on the small of her back while the other snaked into her hair. With her silken locks in his fingers, he kissed her hard and then pulled back, their foreheads gently touching. Her eyes fluttered open, met his and she gave him a sweet smile.
“I love you.” She told him
“I love you too.” He answered and they tenderly kissed.
“Get behind me,” she told him “please.”
He pulled back and nodded as she pulled off of him and got on all fours, piling pillows under her belly so that she would be more comfortable. He took his time pushing inside her, she moaned deeply as he did this. She could seemingly feel everything all at once; her feelings for him, the intense pleasure coursing through her body, it was all so much but it all felt so right. Dean gripped her hips tightly, trying desperately to hold out.
“Oh my god, Dean!” She cried as she reached her peak “Wanna come, please!”
He slammed hard into her, the sharp snap of his skin hitting hers filling the room.
“Come,” He told her “oh fuck, come for me.”
She moaned and her release filled her with warm pleasure as she let go. He held tightly to her hips as he let go inside her, filling her to the brim with his hot seed.
The next night, Dean woke up to hear soft singing again.
“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey.” She softly sang. Dean lay still and just listened, a slow smile crossing his face.
“You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.” She finished the song and let out a heavy sigh.
“Can’t sleep?” He asked sleepily
“No,” she said “can’t get comfortable. Go back to sleep, I’m sorry I woke you.”
“You’re fine.” He said as he rolled to his side and wrapped his arms around her as she laid on her back and snuggled up next to him. He laid a hand across her belly and felt it twitch under his touch. Dean kissed her temple as the baby gave his hand a hearty kick.
“Now I see why you can’t sleep.” He said and rubbed his hand over her belly.
“Yeah, she’s active again tonight.” Kaylee said, sounding exhausted.
Dean pulled Kaylee closer and then said
“Here, I’ll try.” And cleared his throat “you are my sunshine, my only sunshine.” He sang softly “you make me happy when skies are grey.” He paused and then asked “how does the rest of it go?”
Kaylee laughed and finished the song for him, much to both of their amazement, the baby settled down enough to where Kaylee could go to sleep.
“You know what I was thinking this morning?” Kaylee asked as she stirred her coffee.
“How gorgeous you look?” Dean asked with a sappy smile on his face. Kaylee’s cheeks went red and she smiled. “I’m right aren’t I?” He asked and she shook her head.
“No!” She exclaimed “but thank you.”
“So what were you thinking then?” Dean asked.
“You know how sometimes the only way we can get her to settle down is to sing to her?” Kaylee asked and rubbed her belly.
“Yeah?” Dean asked
“What if we sing to her at night?” Kaylee suggested “Then maybe I can get some sleep.”
“We can try it,” Dean said “and see what happens.”
That night, Dean finished tuning an old guitar he’d found in the bunker while Kaylee settled on the couch in Dean’s man cave.
“I’m warning you,” Dean said “I can’t sing to save my life.”
Kaylee laughed and said
“You’re not playing at Madison Square Garden, you’re just participating in an experiment with your pregnant girlfriend and her illegitimate child.”
“Now there’s something I bet you never thought you’d say.” Dean said and then he looked down at the guitar. “What should I play?” He asked
“Something you know,” she told him “I was doing some reading and babies just like hearing the sounds of our voices, so whatever you play, she’ll probably like.”
“What's she doing now?” Dean asked.
Kaylee ran her hands over her belly and said
“I think she's waking up, she's moving around some.”
Dean cleared his throat and felt the blood rush to his cheeks as he began to play.
“Hey there Delilah, what's it like in New York City? I'm a thousand miles away but girl tonight you look so pretty, yes you do. Times Square can't shine as bright as you, I swear it's true.” Dean sang.
Kaylee looked at him wide eyed as he continued to play, his singing voice gave the it a blues and rock like twist to an otherwise pop song. Her mind going back to the conversation she'd been having with the boys after they'd found out the baby would be a girl.
“Say what you will, but she picked her name.” Kaylee said
“Which is?” Sam asked
“Delilah Anne.” Kaylee said
“Delilah?” Sam asked
“I played Hey There Delilah by the Plain White T’s and she went bonkers, so I just knew.” Kaylee said with a shrug.
“You remembered?” Kaylee asked and Dean nodded as he continued to sing
“Hey there Delilah, don't you worry about the distance, I'm right here if you get lonely. Give this song another listen, close your eyes. Listen to my voice it's my disguise, I'm by your side.”
Kaylee snapped her hand over her mouth and her eyes filled with tears as he played and finished the rest of the song. By the end, she was bawling and he set the guitar aside to hold her.
“You just,” I can't believe-wait, when did you learn to play that?” Kaylee asked as she mopped up her face.
“I looked up the chords and learned,” he said “I wanted to surprise you.”
“Oh, you surprised me all right.” she said and kissed him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Hope you guys liked that!! Your kind feedback is always appreciated and loved more than you know. All tag lists and boxes are open so if you wanna get on any list or just chat; feel free to send me a message or ask!!
The Squad:
@waywardbaby @waywardnerd67 @familybusinesswritingbro @ain-t-bovvered @mrswhozeewhatsis @unholyqu33n @dacleverfox @emoryhemsworth @bobasheebaby @myinconnelly1 @mogaruke @imma-winchester-addict @purpleskiesandcherrypies @dean-winchesters-bacon @animerose96 @roonyxx @snffbeebee @ezilyamuzed @mirandaaustin93 @srsllydunnodoncare @latetothewinchesterparty @emilyshurley @atc74 @midnightsilverafterdark @adoptdontshoppets @biawol @spaceystacey123 @bella-ca @clo-heda @closetspngirl @thekatherinewinchester @maddiepants @idreamofplaid @love-those-boys-in-flannel @flamencodiva @blueberrykushlovexoxo-blog @sandlee44 @tumbler-tidbits @rainbowsinthestorm
Dean/ Jensen:
@spnbaby-67 @akshi8278 @deanscarlett
Bittersweet Symphony:
@beautifulbowleggedangel
#lady winchester writes#dean winchester#supernatural#dean x ofc#dean x female#dean winchester smut#Supernatural smut
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