#Spike and Angel are just SO much fun together

[hayatoseyepatch]

Description: Poppin' bottles, here are some headcanons of some of the Wind Breaker boys taking care of their significant other when they've had one too many. Characters: Jo Togame, Hajime Umemiya, Ren Kaji, Haruka Sakura, Hayato Suo,& Toma Hiragi. Word Count: 2.1k Contains: Fem!Reader x Multiple Charcters (separate). Fluff. Mentions of alcohol/being drunk. Slightly suggestive in some (Sakura's is borderline smutty, oops). Not proof read. cw: mentions of attempted drink spiking in Kaji's. (Drink responsibly y'all). ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

Author's Note: This was a request for wbk headcannons for them taking care of a drunk partner. I hope you enjoy it, Kisa!! This was actually so much fun to write, honestly, it was just the silly/fluffy thing I needed to get me back into the swing of things post-writer's block/sickness. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it!! (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

Togame scanned the crowd, leisurely drinking from the glass bottle in his hand, his eyes never straying from your form. He snickered to himself, watching you and Choji throw your bodies around dancing awfully with one another as you both laughed loudly. It warmed his heart to see you both together, the fact that the two most important people in his life got along and were even friends never eased to bring a smile to his face. He watched the both of you have a significant stumble to your movements as he eased off the bar, heading over to where the both of you were. His hand settled on your waist to keep you upright, grinning as he leaned down to your ear. “Woah there beautiful, careful, don’t want you taking a tumble now, hm?”

He chuckled as he felt your body stiffen beneath his fingertips, only for you to relax as the sound registered to your ears and you turned in his embrace. If there was ever a moment he wanted to commit to memory, it would be the very moment your features lit up upon seeing him. Throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him down to your level to place a wet kiss on his lips. He could taste the liquor coating your lips, leaning down to scoop you into his arms, large hands holding you steady by the backs of your thighs. “Come on, dove. Let’s get you home before you regret this tomorrow.” You begin to protest, only to trail off your words as the scent of his cologne meets your nose. Relaxing in his embrace, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck, humming in contentment. “mmm.. fine but you’re carrying me home.” He chuckles once more, pressing his lips to your forehead in a sweet gesture. “I wouldn’t have it any other way darlin.”

Umemiya kicked the door closed with his foot, his arms occupied with your form as he carried you inside your shared apartment. Despite being perceived as immature, he was an older sibling and the former leader of Bofurin for years, making him a very nurturing partner. He smiles down at you, still wrapped around him like the cutest koala bear, he was glad you had a good time. Watching you dance with Tsubaki and giggling with Kotoha at the bar had filled him with happiness. Gently he sat you on the couch, kneeling in front of you, delicately removing each of your shoes, pressing a sweet kiss to each of your knees as he completed his task. Handing you a bottle of water and some painkillers to combat the hangover you were sure to have in the morning. “Did you have a good time sunflower?”

A smile breaks out on his face as you give a wobbly nod, your head bobbing in the cutest way. He picks you up once more, walking you both to the bedroom, placing you delicately on the bed as he gingerly removes your clothes. Pressing sweet kisses to your skin with each inch of it that was revealed to his eyes. “You're so beautiful honeybee.” He murmurs against your skin, forcing himself to pull away from you. You were intoxicated and Umemiya would never cross that line. He walked to the dresser, pulling your favorite sweater of his from the drawer before making his way back over to you. “Arms up, angel.” He laughs lightly when you do so, slipping the article of clothing over your form. He always loved seeing you in his clothes the way the soft fabric drowned your frame always came with a sense of pride knowing you were all his. After stripping down himself, he climbs in the bed, pulling you to rest against his chest, running his blunt nails along your scalp in a soothing gesture until he hears your breathing even out, letting sleep claim him with a smile on his lips.

Grey eyes scanned the crowd, searching for your form amongst the sea bodies in the crowded bar. He was waiting right where you left him before running off to the bathroom. There had been two men at the other end of the bar that had been eyeing you all night, and Kaji hadn’t liked that he lost track of them from his field of vision as well. He had a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. As he continued to look for you amongst the crowd he caught something moving in the corner of his vision. With lightning-fast reflexes his hand shoots out to grab the wrist of one of the men who had snuck up, by the looks of it they had intended to slip something in your drink that was left sitting with his own on the bar top. He tightens his grip, fingers digging into their skin, his threat clear as he spoke through gritted teeth as he hard cany shattered between his molars. “You so much as think about it and I break your damn wrist, got it?” He growled, leveling the man with a glare hat caused the color to drain from his face.

The other male nodded, a look of fear overtaking his expression. Kaji shoved him harshly, releasing his iron-clad grip, watching as he and his companion scrambled off disappearing into the crowd. His blood was boiling, breathing deeply to calm his raging emotions as he replaced the candy in his mouth with a fresh one. Your voice breaks through his racing thoughts, turning back to you, “Rennie, I’m back! Hopefully, you weren’t waiting too long there was such a long line.” You huff, causing his shoulders to go lax in relief. It was miraculous how your mere presence was enough to bask him in a state of calm. A small smile, one he reserved only for you, slipped onto his expression. Pulling the lollipop from his lips, he leans down to press a longing kiss to your lips. “No not at all, but why don’t we head home, sugar? It's too crowded here.” He takes your hand in his own, dragging you out of the bar. Maybe if he decorated your skin in his marks, idiots like them would think twice before trying to touch what was his.

Sakura’s cheeks were hot, blush traveling down his neck as his hands gripped your hips. Your hips moved back against his own in time with the music that blasted from the speakers. No matter how many times he had found himself in this situation with you it never ceased to get him riled up. His eyes were drawn to your hips, noting how similar you had looked the night prior, him behind you in your shared bed. How his hips met your own as he had taken you, the sounds that had spilled from your lips better than any song they could play here. Your voice pulls him out of his daydreaming, your arms now wrapped around his neck as you face him. “What's on your mind handsome?” You purred, your lips pressing themselves to his ear as you pulled him down to your level. His heart picked up in his chest at the clear public display of affection. The liquid coursing through him giving him a surge of confidence to lean down and capture your lips in his own.

Sakura wasn’t one for such public affection but the effect that you and the alcohol he consumed had on him led to him throwing his inhibitions aside. His grip on your waist was tight, trailing his lips from your own to your jaw. His mouth left open-mouthed kisses in his ascent to your ear. His voice came out husky against the sensitive skin. “Can't help thinking how gorgeous you looked last night, moving your hips back on me, that’s all baby girl” He relishes in the shiver he feels go down your spine, meeting your hooded gaze as he pulls away from you. Grinning as he rendered you speechless, taking your moment of stunned rigidness to his advantage as he lifted you easily into his arms, effectively throwing you over his shoulder. His hand comes down on your ass in a playful smack, walking to the exit of the club. “Let's get you home kitten, lets see if we can't have a repeat of last night, yeah?” In that moment you swore you needed to get him tipsy more often.

“I know I know aren’t I just the worst?” Suo teases as your nose scrunches up, attempting to get you to drink the herbal tea he had prepared for you, knowing it would combat the hangover you were bound to have the next morning. He laughed at you, amusement present in his tone. “I know sweet baby, I know it isn’t coffee. But if you drink it you won’t wake up with a nasty headache tomorrow, now go on. Drink up my love.” He coos, you were absolutely adorable like this, refusing the tea he had brewed for you after getting you to eat something. He was patient, caring for you delicately as he had taken you home. Ignoring the way you had pressed your lips to his neck, the way your hands roamed his form in the back of the uber you both had taken home. He had a might high tolerance for alcohol than you did, so much so it didn’t sit right with him to take advantage of you when you were like this. He rested his chin in his hand as you begrudgingly began to drink the tea, eyes soft with adoration as his eyes drank in your features. “Now that wasn’t so hard was it babygirl?”

He ushered you off to the bathroom next, grabbing a cloth to moisten in micellar water as he began to remove your makeup. “Can’t have you breaking out because you slept in your makeup baby.” He hums as he washes your face, patting it dry before applying your nighttime moisturizer. “There isn’t that all better? There’s my beautiful girl.” He smiles pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. Taking your hands in his own he leads you to your shared bed, climbing in with you. He was sure to maneuver you so you weren’t lying on your back in case you got sick. “Come now starlight, let's get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning, my beloved.” He begins to hum a soft tune, knowing it would lull you to sleep. He sighed in contentment as he felt you relax against him, removing his eye covering as he curled around you protectively. Pressing one last kiss to your temple with a declaration of love before letting his eyes close. 

Hiragi heaved a deep sigh, fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. This had been the third time he had lost you tonight, you had kept slipping from his grasp, testing his patience with how slippery you had become. He was happy you were enjoying yourself, overjoyed even, your happiness was all he wanted after all, But every time he turned his back to get you water or something to eat to combat the alcohol you had consumed you managed to wiggle away from him. His ears perked hearing the sound of your laugh, following its melody. It led him to the end of the bar, both you and Umemiya throwing back another round of shots, the two of you perking up when he came into your line of sight. His eye twitched, why couldn’t you be best friends with anyone else? Why not Sako or Kaji? Those two were far more responsible and far less reckless than the man standing before him. Popping a ablet of his stomach medication from its sleeve into his mouth to combat the indigestion you both were sure to bring him.

“Hey, Hiragi!” Umemiya threw a heavy arm over the blonde’s shoulder his boisterous laughter meeting his ears. “Come drink with us!” His words were slurred and his movements unsteady as he dragged him over to where you both were previously standing. He sighed taking a seat in the booth, opening his mouth to protest, only to shut it as you laid your legs across his lap, arms wrapping around his neck as you nuzzled close to him. “Hi my Toma.” You cooed, nose rubbing against his cheek in a pseudo-kiss, before resting your head on his shoulder, humming contentedly. “You’re so handsome. Have I ever told you that?” You spoke so softly adoration filling your tone. His cheeks darkened, supporting your body against his own, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he rested a large hand on your back to steady you against him. He supposed your slippery nature when intoxicated wasn’t all bad, especially when it meant he got to see this side of you.

Dividers by saradika-graphics. Writing & character banners by me. If you enjoyed it, consider taking a look at my masterlist: here.

[1d1195]

Made to Be - Extra IV

Read Made to Be here | ~1.8k words

From me: I was just thinking about them (probs because I'm always thinking about school. This take place sometime between January and the second extra (pre-baby stuff). This is just a really quick little thing until I can write something of merit. I believe I'm almost caught up at work. I think I might be able to write something more substantial this week 💕 Thank you for being patient and kind.

Warnings: none, fluffy cute stuff.

Summary: Harry's not the only one who thinks she was made to be a teacher.

May

“I think we should outlaw field trips,” she mumbled sitting beside Harry in the front seat of the bus.

He chuckled. “It will be fun, kitten,” he assured her.

“Fun for you maybe. You got the good group of kids to chaperone.”

“I’ll give y’group a lecture before we split up, angel,” he promised. Harry snagged her hand from her lap and gave it a gentle squeeze. They tried not to be overly affectionate in front of the students because they didn’t want it to be weird...not that it was weird. But it was definitely something in their eyes. “Y’know they only gave y’a tough group because y’can handle it and they love you.”

She sighed. “I know, I know.”

They were dressed comfortably for the history museum trip. Business casual that made Harry think she was modeling for teachers in textbooks. She was so pretty it made his heart skip a beat.

She had been telling Harry how excited she was to go on the trip up until she got the names of the group she was chaperoning. She was especially excited because schools always got great discounts for museums that she generally hated to pay for. But not even the group rate was enough to make her enthusiasm spike. She fiddled nervously with her engagement ring dangling on her necklace. Harry truly outdid himself and wearing the ring on her finger in the city made her nervous so she opted for the necklace so she could tuck it away safely. (But she assured Harry the thought of taking it off made her feel naked.) Until it was tucked away, Harry smiled, self-satisfied as she twisted it on the silver chain. That pretty diamond glittering in the sun coming through the window of the bus made him so happy. The little symbol that they’d be together forever. She was made for him. He was certain.

He almost forgot he was supposed to be comforting her. It was loud behind them. Not excessive, but when forty something students chattered in an enclosed area, it always got a bit loud and also didn’t help his train of thought. “They’ll pull it together for you,” he draped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. The kids would have to deal.

“Aw!” Someone droned. Her cheeks heated briefly but Harry turned in his seat and glared so that the sound was cut off quickly.

“Jus’ show them all y’favorite things,” he shrugged.

“My nightmare is losing a student on a trip,” she sighed. “This is so stressful.”

“They’re not little ones, m’love,” he reminded her. “They can wander a bit and they’ll be okay. S’not like they don’t all go to the mall on their own and whatnot. Plus, I’d never let y’take the fall for losing one of them. We’d find them. M’sure a lot of parents wouldn’t either. But s’not going t’happen.”

She nodded. Then she sighed heavily and squeezed his hand back. “You’re right.”

“Mm, music t’my ears,” he grinned.

“Don’t push it.”

*

But Harry was right. Her group of students who were usually a rough and tumble kind of bunch really got into the trip. At first they were quiet, almost shy. But she acted as if she didn’t notice and told them all about the exhibits they encountered and explained as much as she could. She did her best to connect the displays to their own lives so they would care more.

As such, they walked right along with her and forgot their shyness. They asked intelligent follow up questions after she explained what they were looking at. They followed all her directions and even asked her for more information about the information she told them as they walked through the rooms. She was going to boost their grades when they got back to school with bonus points for being so good and learning at the same time.

The relief was exhilarating.

About part way through the morning, her group of eight needed a bathroom break. She waited outside the bathrooms and checked her phone for any kind of emergency. Harry texted to check in on her, so she answered to let him know how good her group was and how happy she was to be on the trip again.

“School trip?”

She looked up instinctively, the lanyard around her neck was the only thing that marked her as an adult in comparison to her students. Her slightly shorter frame didn’t compare to the boys she taught who often towered over her. She thought she usually looked the part of being a teacher. She felt it was written on her face (or maybe it was the headband with the Treaty of Versailles printed on the fabric and her pencil earrings that gave it away). The man before wasn’t one of her coworkers but he had a lanyard around his neck from a school she hadn’t heard of before.

She nodded. “Oh yeah, drove an hour in,” she cleared her throat awkwardly.

“Same here. About an hour and a half. You’re a history teacher as well?” He asked.

Her students were still in the restroom, so she cleared her throat again and nodded. “Yes, World History.”

“Same here, where are you in the curriculum right now?”

“We just finished up the Industrial Revolution. About to start Imperialism.”

“Fun stuff! You know, one of my students heard you talking about the Enigma exhibit. Said I left out a ton of information that you seemed to know a lot more about.”

She chuckled. “I see, sorry about that,” she smiled politely. “I get a little too into Bletchley Park.”

“Don’t we all.”

“Miss,” one of her students said suddenly appearing from the bathroom with two others. She glanced toward the men’s bathroom but didn’t see any of them just yet. “Can we pop into the giftshop?”

She glanced at her watch. “I think we have time for that, scope it out before everyone else at the end of the day. We have lunch in about an hour.”

“Are you all eating here, in the food court?”

“I think we’re eating outside,” she said. “Nice day and all... I think the boys are coming out now,” she smiled at her student. “Nice meeting you. Enjoy the museum,” she ushered her students toward the men’s room and sighed.

“Was he hitting on you, Miss?” She whispered.

“Shh.”

“Okay, queen,” she giggled. “Are you going to tell Mr. Styles?”

“He wasn’t hitting on me.”

“Miss,” she laughed. “He was so hitting on you.”

“I didn’t—”

“Who was hitting on her?” One of the boys asked.

“No one—”

“That guy.”

“Oooh, he’s cute. Wait until Mr. Styles finds out he has competition.”

“Miss, I think we have to intimidate him,” another one of the boys explained knowingly. “It’s what Mr. Styles would want.”

“Oh, my word,” she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Can we go to the giftshop?”

*

“Everyone please look in the seat next to you and check if the person you travelled with on the way here is still here! We’re doing a final headcount as soon as we’re all seated.”

“Mr. Styles!” One of her group members sang. She glared at him briefly with her best teacher stare before she sat facing forward in her seat. Harry squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

“Yes? Didn’t y’torture m’fiancée enough today?”

“I would never torture her! But your fiancée got hit on by a guy by the bathroom!” He shouted.

The resounding oohs from the entire bus made her blush. She looked straight forward at the seatback in front of her. “Really?” He smiled and glanced down at the pretty girl beside him.

She shook her head. “He was not flirting.”

“Course he was, Miss! You’re a total catch!” The girl in her group called back.

“She’s right, y’know,” he winked at her knowingly, his voice was low. Maybe only one or two students heard Harry say it and they were kind enough to giggle and not make a scene of it or embarrass her further. “Alright, alright, head count!”

She stayed put while Harry walked up and down the aisle. When he returned to the front, he told the bus driver that everyone was accounted for and they could go on their way.

“Hiding your affair from me?” He winked.

“Shut up.”

He chuckled and grabbed her hand from her lap and brought her fingers to his lips briefly. “S’no surprise, really.”

“It’s probably because my ring was inside my shirt.”

“Lucky ring,” he hummed.

“Harry,” she hissed.

“The man has good taste, kitten,” he shrugged. “M’not surprised at all.”

She sighed. “I wasn’t hiding it from you. I just didn’t want to make you jealous. I don’t want you to think you have anything to be jealous of, you know?”

“I know, I know,” his voice was so kind and soft. The way he sounded when they were falling asleep. It was quiet and warm. If they weren’t in front of forty something students, he probably would have held her cheek and kissed her the way he did every night. Would have traced her features and told her how much he loved her. “You’re jus’ so pretty, so nice, so lovely that anyone with half a brain cell can see it from across the room,” he assured her. Her relief was massive. The idea of hurting Harry’s feelings or betraying his trust was one of her worst fears. She pulled the necklace from its spot and twisted it again and Harry’s smile grew. “God,” he shook his head. Then he squeezed her hand three quick times. She squeezed it back four times in succession. Both knew what it meant. A not quite secret that they loved each other.

She was always grateful for Harry coming into her life. The day she left her old school and got her new job was so scary and sad. In hindsight, she would have told herself in her first year of teaching that a new school was in her future, and she was going to meet a man that was everything she wanted and more.

Someone who was made for her.

“What?” He smirked. The sun was setting and bathing the bus in a soft golden light that only highlighted how handsome Harry was.

“Just thinking about how jealous I would be if a girl flirted with you on a field trip. You have way more kindness than I do.”

“Oh, don’t worry, kitten,” he mumbled and brought his mouth to her ear. “M’going t’show you how crazy the thought of another guy chatting y’up makes me later. Remind you that y’don’t need anyone else. Ever,” he promised and pressed a chaste kiss that did not match the intensity of his words.

Her cheeks warmed once more but she smiled. Shaking her head she squeezed his hand three more times.

--

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[starchants]

hi! i don’t know if you write for spike (btvs) but could you maybe write dating spike hcs? sfw & nsfw?

william ‘spike’ pratt x neutral!reader ; dating headcanons.

word count — 884.

themes + warnings ; some lovely fluff, some hints of angst thrown in because of our beloved troublesome tortured poet and some nsfw content as well!

author’s note — hi my lil starling <3! i do most certainly write for our favorite lil bad boy spike, i hope you enjoy <3! depressingly, i believe, this is shorter than my one with angel but that doesn’t mean that i don’t love him any less! i just literally ran out of headcanons at the moment cause my brain stopped working whoops! i could always expand upon him on a later date like i can with angel.

support mention ; if you feel like supporting, a nice ‘like’ will suffice on my blog, i know some writers love to ask nicely if you could reblog or comment etc. yet on my blog (no hate towards them as everyone likes appreciation in different ways), but if you’d like to reblog or comment feel free after all this is a safe space for any fan-individual to have fun :’)

masterlist

alright let’s state the obvious about our favorite troublesome poet : he will write tons of poems about you. his favorite topic to write about would be about love, at least i headcanon from his former human life, and so when he finds himself enthralled with you, you become his center focus in his beloved artship.

even if you do not like poetry, still please be supportive of him especially when you learn why he doesn't write his poetry as often as he used to when he was human. you see, in my personal headcanon, william (his human self of course) had been seen as too soft for a man as he liked the more feminine oddities such as : poetry, flowers, jewelry, fashion, and baking. mind you, this is all my personal headcanons as to why he was seen as soft.

so this vamp would adore you so so much more if you were to let him be himself and perhaps show interest in the oddities that he likes. obviously he would be the most supportive of you but if he was super supportive of you and didn't receive any back, i feel like he’d be put off of you despite how he feels towards you.

if you are an artistic soul like he is, spike would proudly marvel over your art — no matter how melancholy it might appear to be. he would goat about how his partner is the best at (insert your craft(s) here) and it would get to the point that the whole scooby gang would in-synchronicity claim "we know!" which would turn him into a blushing stuttering mess as he tries to play it off that he doesn't talk about your craft(s) that much. he contradicts himself sometimes as we all know.

he is the definition of a badass with a good soft heart. y'all get stuck out in the rain? he`s sacrificing his good leather and placing it over your head as he moves the pair of you underneath something where you would be dry and then y'all can watch the rain fall down upon sunnydale in a pretty lil art form. anyone happens to look at you in a wrong or potentially harmful way? spike is throwing hands with his vamp face out to scare them halfway to death before he even touches them. he`s a little protective over you, that`s all.

he’s obsessed with your touch. he’s severely touch deprived even if he doesn’t show it — please show him that he is capable of love, one that doesn’t surround around the madness of the woman who he believed to have been his soulmate before you came into his life. the man would be so touchy with you in private, especially if you did any hobbies of his that he loves — meaning baking of course! he would wrap his arms around your middle and use his hands to help you with anything you need for baking. definitely the type of man to put you on his feet and the pair of you penguin waddle together to put the trays in the oven for whatever you’re baking.

speaking of him being obsessed with your touch … time for a lil bit of nsfw 😈

spike is definitely a switch with a bratty sub lean, i mean literally just look at this vampire. he tries to act like a badass who is known for causing trouble over the years and yet if you play your cards just right you can turn him from a brat into your precious boy, but that takes a while. i tend to headcanon that even though drusilla loved him in the way she did, she never got to have him this way, and spike only trusts you to show this side of him. despite the trust, he will indeed make you work for it like i said previously. but you know how to handle your troublesome boy and how to practically turn him into a puddle with your mere touch overtime.

he’s definitely a mean service dom though when he is in a the dominant state of mind. man loves to torture you and deny your orgasms left and right only for a few turns though and then sends you over the edge quite a few times after that. he turns you into a total mess for his own pleasure but the aftercare is spectacular fr!

his version of aftercare is ; cleaning you up with a towel while smothering you with kisses all over as soon as he wipes down each and every spot upon your body, then he goes and gives you a drink (whether water or your favorite soda or alcoholic drink or maybe a blood bag if you’re a vampire like him — y’alls choice!) before he goes off to fill up a bath with the rainbow colored child bubbles that he found at the store the other day, and then he carries you in there once the bath is all filled. then he goes on to wash your body and hair for you while making sure that you’re genuinely alright with whatever occurred during your time together, then he asks you for whatever you want or need — his beloved flower’s wish is his command that he wishes never ends.

[ashwhowrites]

Ahhhh I've been so excited since you mentioned Buffy universe, so obviously I NEED to make a request (i have too much ideas, but I'll try to calm down 😅)

I was thinking about human reader x Spike (my love ❤️). Spike is so madly in love with her that scooby gang has fun watching it, but it is kind of adorable even for them.

One day Spike heard about Angel's visit in town and since then he tries to keep reader far from scooby gang and Angel.

He's telling himself he's not scared of losing reader to Angel because their relationship is strong and mature (not like his previous one) but he's insecure that reader could choose broody handsome brunette because of this all good things he's done

And with happy end pretty please

(I'm so happy, somebody wants to write about buffyverse 🎉🎉🎉)

Thank you for your time 💜💜💜

I'm so in love with Spike so I get it!

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. It feels very weird to write about a different character so I hope it feels like Spike. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Ugh, not Angel

"So does this mean Spike gets to help?" Y/N asked with glee. She knew many of her friends didn't enjoy it when her boyfriend was around but at times she didn't care.

"I say we can do it without the blood-sucking vampire," Xander said as he rolled his eyes. Y/N shot him a glare.

"Be nice, Xander," Willow reminded him.

"Even though I hate to say it, we need Spike's help," Buffy said with disappointment.

~

"The man of the hour has arrived!" Spike said as he walked into Buffy's house. Y/N walked in behind him and closed the door. Together they walked to Buffy's couch and took a seat.

Giles and Buffy explained the plan but Spike was far from listening. His girl was tucked under his arm; all he could focus on was her face. He watched as she listened intently, nodding to what she agreed.

"Spike!" Buffy snapped, clapping her hands. The vampire was quick to look over at her with a snarl. "Pay attention!"

"Oh Buffy, don't be jealous," Spike teased giving her a small amount of attention before he went back to Y/N.

"Listen," Y/N warned, nodding her head toward Buffy. He listened to her, as he always did.

"Weren't you like a terrifying vampire before you got pussy whipped?" Xander joked. Buffy smirked at the comment but made sure not to laugh.

"I can still tear your throat out," Spike growled, biting the air. "I'm not pussy whipped. I just happen to worship the ground my darling walks on."

Y/N tried not to blush at Spike's words. His accent always made her heart race.

"Yeah, Xander! Would it kill you to worship me like that?" Anya complained. Xander groaned as he knew a new fight would happen by the time he went home.

"Quiet!" Giles said, gaining everyone's attention.

~~~

Spike was watching TV in his crypt when he heard someone enter. He turned his head and groaned to himself as Buffy walked in.

"Oh great the slayer," he said, clicking off the TV.

"It looks different here," Buffy realized, looking around. There were candles near the bed, which were covered in fuzzy pillows. There were twinkle lights hung up, for once giving the dark crypt some light.

"What do you need?" Spike asked, ignoring her comments.

"Y/N has a nice touch," Buffy smirked. Spike shifted uncomfortably in his chair, but a sense of pride in his cold chest knowing she was displayed in his home.

"Get to the damn point, slayer."

"Angel's back," Buffy sighed.

Spike quickly flew out of his chair, an unsettling feeling in his stomach.

"Why?" Spike growled. Spike and Angel didn't get along too well. Both vampires but Angel was the better one in people's opinion. Spike didn't tend to care about the comparison but Y/N had never met Angel before and he wanted to keep it that way. "Actually I don't even care." He sassed. Buffy watched confused as he ran out.

~

Y/N was painting her toes when Spike let himself into her bedroom. She looked up with a smile as she smelled him.

"Hello, handsome,"

Spike smiled as she went back to focusing on her toes, moving to sit on the hard floor. He didn't say anything as he grabbed the polish from her hands and began to paint her toes.

She smiled as she let him take over. She adored moments like this with him. When he was doing human things with her. She reached down and ran her fingers through his blonde hair, messing up the perfection it always was. He'd bite off anyone's hand if they touched him like that but it was her so he didn't mind.

"I'm glad you stopped by. The gang is having a movie night, would you like to come?"

Spike took his time painting her toes. The truth was, he didn't want her to go. He was worried Angel would show up with his stupid dark hair, charming personality, and a face that apparently many girls liked.

"Spike?" She said as he sat in silence.

"Could we maybe have the night alone together?" He looked up at her and she was taken back from the insecurity in his eyes.

"Sure, baby. Let me give them a call," she said as she ruffled his hair.

~~~

Spike did his best to keep her away from Angel and tried to keep it secretive. Spike wasn't sure how long Angel would be around but it had been a week too long. Y/N loved Spike so spending all the time with him wasn't a bad thing, but she was worried.

Spike was always confident and loved being seen by others. Even though Y/N hated it, he enjoyed the looks he got from women. He didn't get along with many of her friends but he never was this distant with them. Y/N worried something was going on and she was left in the dark about it.

The couple sat in silence as they watched Passions, even after a year of being with Spike she didn't see the appeal in the show. It had been a week since she left Spike's side. Anytime she made a comment to leave he went into a panic and begged her to stay. Adding to the worry she was feeling.

"Spike," Y/N said, nudging her boyfriend in the arm. His eyes dashed over to her. "Is there something going on between you and my friends? And I know you love me, but there's a reason why you don't want me to leave your side and I want to know."

"Darling, I have to confess something," Spike sighed.

"If you cheated on me I will have Buffy here to kill your ass in a second," Y/N warned. Her eyes squinting into a glare that sent a shiver down Spike's spine.

"Never!" he exclaimed. "Do you remember the stories of Buffy's ex Angel?"

"A little," Y/N said shrugging.

"He's a vampire and pretty much everyone fell in love with him when he was around. Buffy, Willow, and well Xander hated him like he does me, but they saw something good in him. It didn't matter how well-behaved I was, they always picked him for help. Whenever he is around, I'm not needed. I was worried his charm would work on you."

Y/N was in awe of Spike feeling a variety of emotions. She didn't think he felt much other than love and lust.

"You were worried I'd fall for him?" Y/N asked, reaching out to cup Spike's face.

Spike tried to show no emotion, "Not quite what I said. I mean look at me, I am way more of a catch." Y/N laughed at his words, allowing him to feel what he needed.

"Well, if you were saying that I'd make sure to say that I love you. I don't think there is anyone dead or alive that would make me feel the way you do. No one will take me from you." She leaned in and pressed her forehead against his.

He closed his eyes and nudged his nose against hers. Her words sank in and took the weight off his body. He opened his eyes and smiled as she stared at him. He leaned in and pressed a kiss against his lips.

~

With a lot of convincing sex, Y/N got Spike out of his cave. Her hand was in his as they walked into Buffy's house. The gang all said hello and Y/N noticed the new face.

She turned her head as she checked him out, Spike standing taller as he squeezed her hand. She shook her head and turned to Spike, moving to whisper in his ear. "Not even close."

Spike smirked at her words, his confidence taking over. "Well, Angel. I wish I would say nice to see you but it's not."

Angel scoffed but walked over, his eyes landing on the girl next to him. "She's new," Angel smiled. "Prettier than the last one."

Spike stiffened at Angel's words and the mention of Drusilla. The images of her and Angel together in his head were the exact reason he feared for Y/N to see him.

"I'm Y/N, Spike's girlfriend."

Spike smiled at her. Maybe he didn't need to worry about this one.

[yanderes-galore]

Oooh can i get some yan hcs on cherri bomb and angel dust sharing darling? :>

I feel like these two are best as platonic yanderes together? So that's what I did since the pairing wasn't specified.

Yandere! Platonic!Cherri Bomb + Angel Dust Sharing a Darling

Pairing: Platonic - Sharing

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Drugs/Alcohol, Overprotective behavior, Violence, Blood, Coercion, Peer pressure, Dubious companionship.

Based on what I've seen, these two are such a chaos pair.

They've even been described as partners in crime.

The two are often supportive of one another through their problems.

They even attend parties together... which is what brought about my idea for this.

How I think this would go is you're a friend they go partying with.

Maybe the two first met you at a party.

You had come to a bar to party and have a good time, although you aren't used to it.

Which is where you meet Cherri and Angel.

The two naturally come off as intense at first.

After all, you may not be used to parties.

Meanwhile they're two intense sinners who do alcohol and substances.

However... Cherri's social behavior may rub off on you.

She's extroverted and can tell you you'll have a good time.

Which leads to a night with the two of them, filled with intense parties and socializing.

A party goer obsession makes the most sense for them.

Mostly because... well, parties can be dangerous at times, right?

So imagine if you have two overprotective friends who often meet with you to party.

Then during said party, the two watch over you like a hawk and keep your attention on them.

After all, they seem like they'd know about the dangers of partying the most.

Angel has, unfortunately, been drugged enough to know what it looks like.

While Cherri makes sure no one takes advantage of your inebriated state.

I personally think this is how they'd be as platonic yanderes.

Just two suffocating protective best friends who are looking out for you.

The two want you to have a good time.

They want you to trust them and stick beside them while you party.

They seem like they'd throw hands if someone tried anything with you.

For example, if your drink was spiked, they'd hunt whoever did it down.

Cherri would comfort you if you happen to have any problems, similar to what she does with Angel.

While Angel would, probably, be picking fights with whoever tried to use you.

Honestly, this alone doesn't sound bad.

Although, to make it dark, maybe the two often drag you to parties.

Maybe you're not that big into partying, but the two pressure you into it.

You three have so much fun at parties!

You're not scared, are you?

Don't you know they'll look after you as your friends?

Imagine if one of them pressures you a bit more to drink.

Perhaps they both just... enjoy taking care of you and having you rely on them.

Sure, they're the ones now coercing you into partying...

But you'd be bored otherwise, right?

It isn't surprising to wake up at the hotel or Cherri's place with the two of them standing over you.

You can faintly see a dark red or black on their clothes... but they brush it off.

They just say when you were passed out, a bar fight happened.

They got into a bit of a fight... but it's all good and you're safe now!

Need anything for that hangover?

The two act caring and attentive.

Yet I can see them pressuring you into parties and substances/vices just to spend more time with you.

It's manipulative and disturbing alone.

But I can also see them killing someone over you.

Those bar fights? Well, they aren't a total lie.

There was a fight.

Yet he two no doubt killed someone for getting too close to you.

Usually during parties you're sat in a corner booth, away from every other demon.

Either Cherri or Angel stays by you, offering you a drink.

Angel playfully teases you, all friendly of course.

Although the moment another demon comments on you, Angel becomes hostile with them.

As though complimenting you is only for him and Cherri to do.

During parties, regardless of if you like being there or not, the two act as bodyguards.

They hang around you after parties too.

Mostly to chat and help you out with the... side-effects of said partying.

While the way they hang out with you is twisted... They care about you.

Even if it isn't healthy.

I can see the two finding ways to keep you beside them.

Be that by taking you home inebriated... or making you stay with them at parties...

You're their hardcore party friend.

At least... You should be.

Why would you refuse them?

They're your friends and... you enjoy their company...

They're just looking out for you.

Maybe you should just try one more party for them... Just to have them happy...

Except the more you give in... The more trapped you become... Then soon they won't let you go... Ever.

[dramioneasks]

Christmas Fics (2024) (Part 9):

A Very Merry Proximity by watchyoubreathingout - M, 2 chapters - “I’m going to propose to Theo.” “Oh, Harry! That’s so wonderful. When?” “On the trip. I want to do it with our family there.” In which Hermione and Draco fake date on a couples ski trip

The Road Back Home by Elinie - G, 3 chapters - Malfoy stopped and checked his watch once more. Midnight was just minutes away. "I’ll make it," he thought, closing his eyes and picturing only one thing: her face, glowing with warmth, as he knocked on the door.

Happy Rave-mas, Draco! by AsIfYouCouldOutReadMe - E, 3 chapters - Straight-laced Auror Draco Malfoy only wants three things: his book, his bed, and a cuppa. He saw enough trouble in his early life to last the rest of his days, thank-you-very-much. Approaching thirty, he's resigned to fulfilling his marriage contract with Astoria Greengrass and getting on with the years. Unfortunately, Theodore Nott is much less receptive to Draco's chosen path. Following the Ministry's Christmas party he drags him to Pansy Parkinson's Second Annual Rave-mas, bringing Draco in direct contact with a one Hermione Granger and changing his life forever. -Or- In an effort to “have fun” and “live a little” good boy Draco Malfoy attends his first rave, a rather on-the-nose affair hosted by Pansy Parkinson. The theme is Rave-mas, the booze and drugs are flowing, and the main act of the night is Lioness, Hermione Granger’s nom de guerre. Featuring an awkward, smitten Draco; DJ Hermione; Supportive NottPott; party planner Pansy; drug dealer Neville; scene boy Goyle; Cormac bashing; rave culture; and tiniest bit of Christmas cheer. Inspired by that one night around the holidays in which everyone is in town, so you go out and get a little reckless.

Hark! A Herald Angel's Wings by makingTime - M, one-shot - The first time Draco Malfoy picks his son up from the school’s nativity rehearsal, Hermione expects she’s in trouble. She hasn’t seen him in 10 years and clearly, much has changed. Now, they’re both divorced, their five-year-olds are best friends and, though she prides herself on being unflappable, her good sense seems about to fly South for the winter… Back at Malfoy Manor, the Master has brought half the grounds in with him, but with the Christmas party coming, that’s the last of Gammy’s worries. He does wish Master Draco would stop behaving so oddly, but then again, if there was anything Gammy was accustomed to, from his many long years as Personal Elf to the Master of the Malfoy Household–it was oddities…

A quite Christmas at Grimmauld Place by darkgreenforest03 - G, one-shot - Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy find themselves stranded together at Grimmauld Place over Christmas Eve due to a tactical mishap during an Order mission. Malfoy, who has been reluctantly assisting the Order after defecting from Voldemort, is under constant suspicion. Hermione, exhausted from the war and herding the chaos of her friends, is less than thrilled to be stuck with him.

The Christmas Where Draco Ruined Nothing by Helledore - T, one-shot - Veritaserum spiked mulled wine can lead to one thing only...

Santa Always Comes by Dizzle00, Sophiesstreet - E, one-shot - “Look at her, Draco. Our witch is looking a bit peckish.” “Do you need us, love?” their blond husband purrs to Hermione, kissing up her neck. “Hungry for more?” “I need both of you,” she whimpers, her petulance from the day before all gone; now she is only sweetness, back on Santa’s nice list--beautiful, golden, and ready to beg. They’ll give her anything she wants. Or In which Draco’s daddy will hear about this, but not the daddy you’d expect. [Draco x Hermione x Blaise]

The Delivery Clause by ThornedHuntress - E, one-shot - Draco Malfoy needed many things from her. His coffee. The financial reports from Shanghai. A swift kick up the arse—though he hadn’t asked for that one, specifically. But there was one more thing he'd need for Christmas and, god help her, Hermione was going to deliver. ~~~ “Draco.” “What?” he muttered, an intense, distant look of focus on his expression, his hips never ceasing. “If you want to get me pregnant, you are going to have to at least attempt to enjoy this at some point.”

Feels Like Home by charingfae - E, one-shot - When Hermione has nowhere to go for the holidays, her very hot, competent, single employer graciously takes her in. As a nanny, she's used to taking care of people. But when Draco offers to take care of her for a change, she doesn't resist. --- Draco stretched languidly in his chair. “I was a terror of a child, if you can believe it.” She drew her hand to her mouth in a faux gasp. “No!” “You’re not allowed to be cruel to me, it’s Christmas.” “You’d rather I be nice to you? But that’s so boring.” He ran his tongue along his lip, his eyes darkening. “Believe me, it’s not.”

[dellalyra]

i NEED another part of Family Formation where megumi tells the reader that he has a crush on itadori but he’s scared to tell satoru because he don’t want him to make fun of it 😭 PLEASE

A/N: OMG A REQUEST I’M SO HAPPY THANK YOU NONNIE 🤍 I hope this is okay I kinda got carried away and added some more stuff if it’s not pls tell me and I’ll write MORE

Summary: Megumi comes home for the weekend, and he needs some Mom advice.

CW: Feelings, sweetness, the jjk elders 😡, mentions of being insecure about stuff and sexuality, teasing, a loving family, Satoru and Y/N’s baby is in the human world, swearing it’s me it’s gonna be there.

Recommended Listening:

Shrike - Hozier (the first half)

Angel - Finneas (the second half)

Tear in My Heart - Twenty One Pilots (playing at the start)

Family Formation Drabble

You lifted your son out of his playpen as you heard the doorbell ring, and holding him on your hip you almost run to the front of the house.

Opening the door, your eldest son stands with a sheepish smile on his face.

“Hi Mom, hey buddy,” Megumi says, laying his backpack on the tiled floor of the hallway of your and Satoru’s cottage.

“Here Akio, say hi to your brother.” Megumi lifts the 14-month-old from your arms and pats his snowy white head.

“Hi sweetheart, where’s that husband of mine?” You ask, now having to stand on your tiptoes to reach his cheek to kiss him.

“He’s going to the grocery store and said he’d be home in about 40 minutes. Something about meringue, I wasn’t listening.”

“Understandable. Yuuji and Nobara staying at school?” You lead your boys back into the kitchen where you put on a pot of coffee.

“Uh, yeah, they wanted to explore Tokyo for the weekend. Some festival or something.” He plops his brother back in the playpen and comes to sit at the kitchen island with you.

“And you didn’t want to go? I know you’re not a fan of crowds but you guys usually are joined at the hip. You didn’t have to come home for the weekend, sweetie.” Pouring his black coffee into his favourite mug (black, with an M on one side and a fluffy dog on the other).

“Uh no, I kinda needed a breather from Yuu- everyone.” He had flushed red at the name, and your instincts spiked, you’d had an inkling of what might have caused your emotionally constipated son to need a breather but you’d let him tell you if you wanted.

You had seen the shy looks through his eyelashes, the bright red tips of his ears from just a high five. The fact he gravitates toward him during missions. The spike in anger at seeing him hurt. The avoided hearing any form of praise from his pink-haired friend. You knew your son had grown a crush on Yuuji Itadori. To you, it was obvious. Well, to you and Satoru - but you had warned him to not bring it up, or make a deal of it, or try any elaborate schemes. Luckily, the matter of love was something Satoru knew not to meddle in. You both needed to come together naturally, and you wanted the same for your kids.

“I get that, I used to need breaks from your dad’s energy sometimes too. For people like us, sometimes the energy gets overwhelming, same with all the feelings. Maybe you’re spending too much time around me!” You giggle, nudging him in the side.

You hear mumbling (babbling, really) from the other side of the room and then a “Momma, up! Up!” So you pick up Akio on your hip and come back to sit with Megumi. He was staring into his coffee as if he was waiting for it to grow into a corporeal being.

“Mom, can I - can I, um, ask you about something?” He doesn’t look up when he asks.

“Always, sweetheart.”

“I think, I think I - I dunno. Maybe it’s dumb. It’s - I needed to get away this weekend to think for a while. To think about - about Itadori.” He swirls the spoon in his coffee. You know how much effort it’s taking your shy boy to talk about this so you don’t push, gently letting him continue.

“I think I… might like him. Like, as more than a friend.” The sound of his voice is so quiet you are glad the house is quiet.

“That’s great sweetheart, I’m happy to hear that. Have you talked to him about it?” You pet the raven and lock his head in a soothing gesture, keeping your voice steady and even as if coaxing a wolf into playtime.

He shakes his head.

“I’ve not told anyone, only you, and Akio I guess.” He smirks, and the baby on your thigh perks up hearing his name.

“Gumi!” The baby waves to his big brother, showing off his new skill of waving.

“Well, you know whatever you say can stay between us.”

“I don’t know what to do mom, I haven’t done this whole ‘like someone’ thing, and I- Yuuji, he’s a boy and my friend and I don’t want to be fucked with for it.”

“Sweet boy, who do you think wouldn’t be okay with that? I’m bi, your dad’s bi, Nobara well - that girl is completely in love with Maki. Inumaki wouldn’t care, Yuuta would be so happy to see you happy, Principal Yaga has had me, Shoko, Satoru, you kids - and your Uncle Suguru to deal with. You liking a boy is of no consequence to any of us, as long as the boy is good to you and you’re happy.”

“The elders? They’re not exactly accepting. I know you and Dad and all my friends won't care, I just don't want them to punish Yuuji any more.”

“Ha! Honey, have they met our family?! I and your dad have date nights of shouting at the elders. You're our son, Yuuji may as well be too. You guys are under our protection. Plus, if things get really bad - we can pull out the trump card. We can send Uncle Kento in to roll his eyes and call them shits and judge them in the silent scary way you've learned.”

He smirks at this, recalling stories of your temper scaring the senile men, and how Nanami and you team up often to call out bullshit.

“Did I tell you about when your dad and I began dating? The elders blew a fuse. Your dad being who he is, the ‘pinnacle of Sorcery society’ dating me? A girl whose family has been a matriarch fighting the male elders for 350 years? It was a bloodbath, and we were summoned to a meeting and let’s say by the end of it, nobody questioned our relationship again. They even sent us a wedding gift.” You say, pointing at the teapot on the counter.

“We love you, whether you’re straight, gay, sideways, bi - hell honey you could say you want to marry a tree I’d say great when’s the wedding? Him being a boy, is of no matter - what matters is whether or not he makes you happy. Now, have you confessed?” You peck his forehead.

“No. I don’t know how. Plus, I don’t even know if he’s into guys, let alone me.”

“First of all, he is. He told me a while back he had a crush on Timothee Chalamet - so I’d also argue you’re probably his type. Next point - what do you mean ‘let alone me!’, you, kid, are a devilishly handsome guy. You’ve got the whole, tall dark and handsome thing going on! Strong, kind, loyal, sensible - okay I’ll shut up.”

You giggled, knowing your cue to stop was him banging his head on the island, groaning ‘Mom please stop.’

“Yes please shut up now.”

“Megs, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He’s crazy about you too, I’d bet my technique on it.”

He hums a nonsensical sound, but you can see a small smile on his face.

“Gumi!” Tiny grabby hands pull Megumi’s attention as he picks him up and he summons his divine dog for your son to pet.

“Can you not tell Dad? He’ll just tease me.”

“Hate to break it to you kid but your dad already knew. He’s around you kids 24/7.”

“But he never said anything? Surely if he knew he’d be insufferable.”

“Satoru is kinda good with matters of the heart, believe it or not. He knows this is something you need to do yourself, we both do. He managed to land me didn’t he?” You wink at him, and he smirks.

A voice sounds from the doorway,

“Who managed to land you? Do I have competition for your heart, princess?” Satoru asks, whisking you into his arms and kissing your forehead.

“Oh yes, a beautiful young man which dashing white hair and sparking blue eyes has not let go of me for 10 months.” You gesture to Akio, who is on Megumi’s lap.

“How dare he, I’ll just have to swallow him whole!” Satoru lifts your son into his arms and Megumi rolls his eyes and blows raspberries into his chubby baby belly, much to the infant's delight.

“Gumi, Got you chicken nanban, breast meat don’t worry!” He passes the box to the eldest boy, then turns to you. You smile at how thoughtful your beautiful husband can be.

“Donburi, for you, love of my life, princess, my queen.” He passes you another box.

“And for us, Akio, the ones with gourmet taste, mochi!” He takes a pink container out and all you can do is roll your eyes, thankful you had already given the baby his ACTUAL dinner.

“I’m just gonna go shower, I’ll be back in a few.” He pecks you and Akio on the head and tries to kiss Megumi too only to be swatted away.

As Satoru leaves, you turn to Megumi.

“We both know, and we love you. If you want to talk to me about it, I love hearing it from you, I’ve also been told I’m pretty great at advice - and I swept your dad off his feet. Got the strongest at my feet. It’s okay to take your time, but if you’re worried, I can’t tell you for sure he likes you too, like, a lot, Megumi. I promise.” You wink at him, knowing some humour would make this less uncomfortable for him.

You wouldn’t tell him so you weren’t interfering in something you knew would happen naturally, but you knew for sure because Yuuji had asked you what Megumi’s favourite restaurant was so he could ask him on a date on his birthday in two weeks. But that was a secret you keep to yourself, well, and Satoru and Akio. Megumi may be smarter than Yuuji, but Yuuji was far more aware of feelings. He had been worried he’d be turned down, but you assured the pink-headed boy he wouldn’t be - to which he thanked you, Satoru and Akio for his very informative babbles and bounced out of the room to get help planning from Nobara.

“Thanks, Mom.” Megumi gives you a small smile, sheepish as ever.

“No need, it’s my pleasure, darling boy.” You kissed his forehead (smiling at not being swatted away).

“Ahhh baba! Puppy gumi! Jababuoa.” Akio says from his high chair.

“Very true Akio, you’re not wrong. Megumi, opinion?”

“No, he’s definitely onto something, good job buddy.”

[vargamornight]

angel and spike's relationship and their eligibility for the shanshu prophecy have got my brain on puree and i'm tossing episodes in one at a time

when spike was first turned, immortality was a gift. he could live forever! the first goddamn thing he did was go to his mother and turn her. he told dru the three of them can travel the world together! it didn’t go well, but that was okay, because he still had dru, and she was his everything. she was his whole world, his sire, the woman who gave him life. she was his destiny. spike-as-william was perfectly content to just live with drusilla, and angel and darla, because he loved dru, and she loved them. they were family, they were his home, and that was all he ever wanted. just somewhere to belong.

and that pissed angelus right the fuck off. angelus, whose first act as a vampire was to kill his father, whose love for darla was more like rage, who took every opportunity to slaughter and bathe in the blood of innocents, could not fucking stand that this guy was just like "hahaha that was so funny when you killed that guy. anyway, i think i'm just gonna go hang out with dru." angelus didn’t want love, or peace, or contentment. he wanted to rip heads off of shoulders, eat babies, and rape teenaged girls. seeing spike so well adjusted made him genuinely angry, so he did something that he knew would ruffle spike's calm: he slept with dru.

ever since then, they've hated each other. angel literally started it, but neither of them was ever particularly kind about their retaliation. angel tortured spike emotionally and psychologically for like a hundred years, and spike had angel physically tortured for like, three whole hours for information, plus spike definitely went after buffy (in more ways than one) just to piss off angel. but even without a soul, spike was never anywhere near as bad as angel. not even close.

so angel gets a soul. it's an enormous burden, because of how much of a shitstain he's been for the past 150 years or whatever, and he suddenly is capable of guilt again. it's a curse.

(but then he sees a 14 year old girl, the one girl in the world who might put him out of his misery, and he, a 27-slash-200 year old man, literally immediately decides he's in love with that 14 year old girl. okay dude. sure.)

angel becomes a good guy and joins the fight against evil, instead of just eating rats and not dying, because he wants the girl to like him. she does, they bang, he loses his soul again, tortures her psychologically, kills some people, gets sent to a hell dimension, gets out, and leaves. honestly, can't blame him for that one.

angel leaves buffy voluntarily so that he won't/can't hurt her by being a shitstain without a soul again.

and then there's spike. spike basically just noodles around, delivering threatening monologues from rooftops while watching one protagonist or another, and it's very cool and scary until it's time for the dastardly plan to kick in, at which point everything immediately falls apart like a cartoon car with no bolts, leaving spike blinking comically, holding a steering wheel and sitting on air. spike refers to angel as a drama queen several times, and he's not wrong, but he is very hypocritical.

spike gets to sunnydale and goes after buffy for fun, fails terribly, then succeeds at kidnapping angel, who he needs because dru, the light of his life, his moon and stars, his effulgent beauty, his destiny, is not feeling well and he needs the blood of her sire to heal her. that's it. no real ulterior motive, no "i'm gonna getcha" threats, just. business. his wife is sick and he's getting her magical chicken noodle soup. it just so happens that the chicken in said soup is angel, and spike has no problem with that.

then he continues noodling around, tortures angel about a ring, fails terribly, goes back to sunnydale, and immediately gets caught and collared by the literally underground military group operating out of a california college campus. and then he can't hurt humans anymore without getting a migraine, and he's the world's biggest baby, so he is effectively neutered from here on out.

gradually, he learns to be less of a shithead, and falls for buffy the real way, the long way, the hard way—he sees her, and he knows her, and he learns to respect and love her. he is dogged in his pursuit of her. relentless. because even when she tells him to back off, she kisses him right after. she's putting on a show for the benefit of her own pride, and he knows that, and he understands, because he believes it when she says he's beneath her. he knows it. he's not good enough for her, and he never could be.

but he could be better.

so he leaves. he goes and gets his soul back. he fights tooth and nail to get it, almost dying several times in the process. because he's not being cursed with a soul—he's earning his. he's proving, once and for all, to himself, to angel, to buffy, to everyone, that he is better than what everyone thought he could ever be.

and, just in case anyone had any doubt, he goes back to sunnydale and he does the one thing angel could never do: he gives his life to save the goddamn world. burns up, knowing he's leaving buffy behind, knowing there's no coming back from this. knowing, ultimately, this is the only thing worth doing. he dies, not for buffy, but because it's the right thing to do.

and that pisses angel off, too.

he's like, why the fuck should it be so easy for him? all he has to do is die and now suddenly he's a hero? a champion? angel's spent a thousand years suffering! that has to be worth more! that has to mean he's the better man! because if he's not, if spike can be weighed against angel and find a balanced scale, then he suffered for nothing! and spike barely suffered at all! (factually untrue, but angel doesn't exactly see clearly when it comes to his protege) so, no. he does not keep his cool when it turns out spike is eligible for the shanshu prophecy just as much as angel

and the reason for all of angel's dumbfuck behavior is made all too clear when he tries to convince spike not to claim the shanshu prophecy for himself: "it's a burden. a cross. you have to live."

diagnosis: terminal catholicism

angel is catholic and spike is not and that's why all of this happened the way it did.

p.s. also: SPIKE WITH A SOUL WAS NOT A DIFFERENT MAN THAN THE SPIKE WITHOUT A SOUL WHO LEARNED TO BE GOOD. he put the fucking work in, he just needed it to be official. like a high school diploma. "went through hell and here's the proof."

p.p.s. also: the initial angelus getting mad was because angelus totally wanted to fuck spike, took him on a date, and spike bailed to hang out with dru, so angelus had revenge sex with dru. canon.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Crimson Tango: A Dance of Diamonds and Revenge Chapter 2 - It Always Ends Badly✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: Me and @mountainsandmayhem are having so much fun writing this Moulin Rouge au! We hope you enjoy chapter two ☺️ Comments and reblogs are always appreciated ❤️

Word Count: 5.7k

Pairings: Joel x fem! reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Chapter Summary: Joel and reader finally meet. Things get a little heated till reader’s uncle interrupts. Plans take a turn for the worst when your uncle introduces you to Terrance, the man you absolutely loathe.

Chapter Tags: Flirting, feelings, fluff and thoughts of smut, angst, longing, grief

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

In the bright lights of your room, you notice things about the handsome stranger that you couldn’t quite see while you were up on stage. Like his eyes… They aren’t just dark brown. No. They’re lighter than you expected, almost the color of honey and copper mixed together. Light flecks of warmth reflecting off them. It almost reminds you of sunlight. Beautiful, warm. And just for a second you swear you can see home in those bright brown eyes that call to you. And his face is so beautiful. So smooth, tan, angelic.

“I - I’m sorry,” Joel stutters, using every ounce of self preservation he has to tear his eyes away from you.

You turn your back to him to put the dressing gown on properly, tying the satin pink sash in a bow to make sure the gown doesn’t slip off. The spike of adrenaline from performing always seems to cloud your mind and you must have forgotten to lock your door again. You glance over your shoulder to see Joel's wide brown eyes looking at your guitar and pottery wheel. “It’s okay, I should have locked the door,” you reply shyly.

You spin back around to face him, and in the sensual lighting of your bachelor style living quarters he might be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. You wonder how old he is and if he’s married. You find yourself hoping he’s not. A married woman wouldn’t let her husband work in a place like this.

“Perhaps I should come back another time,” Joel says hesitantly.

“No, no please. Stay.” Your heart thunders in your chest, you’re sure he sees you as others around town do, a whore. That title has never bothered you before, let them think what they want to think, you know what you are. You are the Sparkling Diamond. The one that all men want, but can never have. You’re their fantasy, and unbeknownst to them you’re an untouchable fantasy. But Joel’s opinion feels like it should matter, you can’t explain why, but you want him to know that you aren’t like the other girls that work here.

“Alright,” he murmurs out, tugging at the collar around his shirt that is starting to feel too tight. “I just need to fix that dripping faucet for you and replace that light and umm, then I’ll be out of your way, ma’am.”

You say your name and his right cheek lifts slightly as he repeats it back to you. It’s never sounded sweeter coming out of someone’s lips. He glances quickly at your guitar and pottery wheel again before walking further into your room to inspect the sink.

“You’re Mr. Miller, right?” You had heard some of the women talking about the handsome new handyman your uncle had hired earlier.

“Yes, just Joel will do, ma’am.” His heart is hammering in his chest, he wouldn’t be surprised if you could hear it across the room. He opens the cabinets under your sink and sees a pipe with a steady drip running down to the floor.

You repeat your name again with a laugh.

“Sorry, that’s not how I was raised, darlin’.”

Darlin’. The nickname gives you butterflies low in your stomach and warmth floods your body. You feel your cheeks flush as Joel glances over you slowly.

His breath gets caught in his throat with how beautiful you look with a slight pink blush lighting your cheeks. His mind flashes to you on top of him, that blush spreading down your neck and chest slowly. Soft breasts in his palms as you bob up and down on his cock.

“Darling,” you repeat back dreamily, “you could just call me that if you like. I like it,” you blush crimson as you flutter your long eyelashes at him.

Joel is thankful his face is now hidden under the sink, the big grin across his face would definitely give him away. You watch his strong arms flexing as he tugs and pulls on the hardware under your sink. Watch the way his bulging biceps cling to the flannel every time he reaches and flexes his muscles. The sight alone makes you gulp with desire.

“Okay, if that’s the case then,” he raises his head to lock eyes with you, “can you please turn the water on, darlin’? Let’s see if I’ve fixed this.”

You pad over to the sink in your barefeet, toes painted the same red as your fingernails. You lean over Joel's outstretched body to turn the water on. Everything happens all at once; first, the water sputters and then shoots out of the faucet with much more pressure than usual, then the pipe underneath pours down on Joel. Before you can even comprehend what’s happened, Joel has you scooped up in his arm, while the other reaches to turn off the tap. He’s completely soaked now and when the two of you lock eyes you both start laughing. Neither of you can really remember when you’ve laughed like this. Warm, genuine laughter as he walks you away from the wet floor of your kitchen area.

“Shit,” you laugh, ‘I’m sorry! You’re soaked.”

Joel places your feet gently on the ground at the foot of your bed. “I think we need to replace that.”

You stumble slightly when he puts you down, like a few minutes of his touch has already made you weak and boneless. He grabs the hem of his shirt and lifts it up to wipe his face. You should look away, but instead you let your eyes wander down to the exposed skin of his abdomen, your bottom lip sliding in between your teeth. His flat abdomen has a little trail of hair that leads to the one spot you haven’t been able to stop thinking about since you saw him. Between that and the v shaped divots of his hip bones, you’re mesmerized. You want him, need him. Badly.

His brown eyes lock with yours as he lowers his shirt slowly, keeping his eyes intently focused on you. Your breaths come out shallow, causing your breasts to rise and fall rapidly. His eyes dart to your parted lips as you step closer to him. His warmth and mahogany smell wraps around you, enveloping you in a thick fog. He’s taller than you, much taller. You have to crane your neck up to look at him. One of his hands grazes against yours and you suck in a nervous breath as you feel electricity run through your connected skin. His fingers are soft and warm, but also rough and scalding all at the same time. The hands of a hardworking man.

“Darlin’?” He says in a cracked whisper.

“Y-yeah?” you coo, fingers reaching for his, your pointer finger linking gently with his pinky.

Joel hears Edward’s voice, don’t touch my girls. But his hands seem to have developed a mind of their own as he finishes intertwining your fingers with one hand, the other tracing a gentle line up your arm towards your shoulder.

“You have to stop looking at me like that…” he says, pushing your soft curls off your shoulder, brushing your exposed collarbone, his delicate touch causing your clit to throb. He’s so handsome, so… gentle. Soft.

You hold in a moan, his strong, thick fingers feeling like heaven on your skin. “Like what?” you ask quietly, locking your fingers with his as calloused fingers drag along yours smoothly. It’s like fire burning your skin. Warm, tempting, smoldering, life ending.

He steps closer, so close that if you could take a full breath your barely covered breasts would graze against his body. Your nipples are hard and sensitive against the silkiness of your dressing gown, begging to be released from the material.

“Like you want me to kiss you, baby girl.”

Baby girl, fuck.

His gentle touch continues up your neck and you can’t hold it in anymore, a moan slips from your lips as you lean into his touch. His eyes haven’t left yours, and they darken as he watches your body responding to his fingers. He traces your jaw line, stopping below your chin and lowering his face to yours. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

A breathy ‘yes’ starts to come past your lips when a loud knock on your door has you both jumping apart like you had touched a live wire. Joel rushes into your kitchen, grabbing a towel to clean the puddle of water on the floor quickly. You tighten your dressing gown and head to the door, opening it just a crack.

“Hi, petal,” your uncle says, “just checking on the sink situation. Did Joel stop by?”

You open the door the rest of the way and gesture for him to come in.

“Sorry, sir,” Joel says from his crouched position on the floor. “I think we’re gonna need to replace it. The one pipe is stripped and you can’t get a good seal without the threads.”

You smile at Joel from behind your uncle. He appears to be rambling. Nervous rambling.

“Do what you need to do, Joel. This is the room of our most prized possession. If she wants it, she gets it.”

If she wants it, she gets it. The words run through Joel’s head over and over again like a broken record on repeat. Like how you were practically begging him to kiss you seconds ago. Those smooth, glossy lips tempting him to dark places he shouldn’t go. He shouldn’t, he knows better. But he’s beginning to realise he has no sense of self preservation when it comes to you.

Joel notices the way your eyes glaze over with sadness when Edward calls you a possession and that’s when he feels it again. The connection, the tight string that pulls him to you. He can tell that you hate that, that you want to be seen for you and not just the fantasy you put out there for those sick men.

He can’t say no to you, he’ll never say no to you. To hell with the rules, he’d already broken them the moment he saw you. He wants to know you, he wants to play guitar with you and maybe you can teach him how to use that pottery wheel. He’s truly, royally fucked. Ruined. But so be it. As long as he could have you, he didn’t care about the consequences because all he wanted was you. His Sparkling Diamond.

“Petal, come to my office when he’s done here, please?”

You nod and smile sweetly, “Of course.”

After he leaves, Joel sighs and leans against your porcelain counter, crossing his strong arms across his chest, his soft chocolate eyes staring back at you. His eyebrows knit together and you can see him grinding his teeth together while his jaw clenches into a tight fist.

“Sorry.” It comes out of your mouth instinctively. You don’t know what you’re sorry for but it’s certainly not for almost kissing him.

“No, I want to, darlin’. I really want to. It’s just…” he walks towards you slowly, almost hesitating before he reaches for you. He’s known you all of twenty minutes and he already can’t stand being in the same room with you and not touching you. As his hands come up to lightly cup the back of your head he continues, “It’s just that doing that will get me fired.”

“Didn’t you hear him? If I want it, I can have it.”

You let your hand roam over his chest, and he can’t help but melt at your touch. “Fuck, baby girl. You’re so…I’m just…”

“Are you feeling flustered, Mr. Miller?”

“Very,” he says before crashing his lips into yours.

His lips are soft and fit perfectly against yours as they nip at your bottom lip and devour you nice and slow. You run a hand through his soft tousled curls and hear him groan against your mouth. He likes that, likes your fingers wrapped around his hair.

He slides his arms around your waist and pulls you tight against his broad chest, making your head spin with want and need. You can smell every inch of him, feel the mahogany and woodsy scent seep into every crevice of your skin. It’s intoxicating, electrifying. You want him, you need him, crave him like you’ve never craved anything else in your entire life. It’s him, it’s only him.

It takes everything inside you to break the kiss, and both of you whine out when you part. Joel fights the urge to readjust himself, he doesn’t want you thinking he’s like every other guy in here. He’s not looking for a quick fuck, he never wants to do anything quick with you.

“Fuck,” you say breathily, “I have to go. I don’t want to go, but he’ll come back.”

“It’s okay, I’ll be back tomorrow.” His thumbs graze the sides of your waist affectionately as he pulls back.

“Can I see you again?” Joel didn’t realise the elation that could come from those five little words. You step into him, resting your cheek against his chest, hands roaming his broad back. “Please?” you almost beg.

Joel groans at your touch, “Nothing would make me happier, darlin’.”

Before he steps out of your reach, you look to your acoustic guitar and back up into his warm brown eyes. “I saw you looking at my guitar earlier. Do you play?” you ask with your eyes focused on him intently.

“Mhm. Been playin’ a long time,” he replies and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, making you want to melt into his touch forever. “And you? I’m guessin’ you also play?” he asks with the cock of his thick eyebrow.

“Yeah, a little. I kinda taught myself as a child,” you say shyly.

A low whistle escapes his lips. “Taught yourself, yeah? Smart girl.” A smirk curls against his lips and it nearly knocks the breath from your body. “I could give you lessons, you know. If you’d want, that is.”

You don’t hesitate at all before you squeak out. “Please! I’d love nothing more,” you almost shout with a huge grin on your matted red lips.

“Perfect. It’s a date then…” he says as he slides his hand through his tousled curls nervously, making his brown flecks of color pop with his shy smile. You nearly explode at the thought of his strong arms around yours, his calloused hands guiding you along the strings as his smooth lips trace your neck line, whispering praises to you each time you learn something new.

Good girl. Doin’ so good for me, baby girl. Learnin’ so fast. Such a good girl… The thoughts nearly take you down to the floor.

“Well, guess I should let you get to Edward,” he sighs, already starting to move his arms from your waist. The feeling of him leaving makes you feel empty, hollow. A lost void in the darkness. You don’t want him to go…

After managing to pull yourselves out of each other's arms, Joel slips out of your room slowly, sending you a flirtatious wink and a small smile before closing the door gently. When you peel your eyes off the now closed door, you throw on a pair of pink lacy panties and a wrap around dress before heading out to your uncle's office.

When you open your door, you enter back into the chaos and madness of it all. You forgot that all of this was happening all around you when you were alone with Joel, almost like being locked in his eyes turned off the whole word. The burlesque is still hustling and bustling with men, dancers swarming them on the dance floor as they grab and take what they want from the women. You decide right then and there that you are done with this place and then roll your eyes bitterly as you make your way down the grand staircase, then down to the wooden floor, clicking your heels across the wood as you saunter your way to your uncle’s office.

You can feel the eyes roaming over your body, hear the cat calls the men make as they whistle and call your name. You tune them out, pretend you don’t hear the barbaric things they yell at you.

What could your uncle possibly want to talk about that couldn’t wait till tomorrow? Was he letting you come up with a new routine, maybe let you coach some more of the children on how to do kicks and twirls and little dance numbers? You liked the children, loved seeing their faces light up when you showed them a dance move or two. Maybe that’s what this was about. You hoped it was.

When you cross the dim lit hallway with red wallpaper and dark wooden floors, you turn the golden doorknob into your uncle’s spacious office. “Hi, uncle! You wanted to see me?” you ask brightly. As you turn you stop in your tracks, the door shutting quietly behind you. There’s a strange man standing almost menacingly near your uncle.

“Oh, uhh. Who’s this?” you ask cautiously, taking in the tall stranger that stands at the corner of your uncle’s long, wooden desk.

“Oh, petal. So happy you made it. This is Terrance. Terrance, this is our Sparkling Diamond.” Your uncle says your name to Terrance and he smirks at the mention of it.

Something about him makes your skin crawl. You can’t place what it is, but your gut and intuition are telling you to be afraid of this man and to run. Bile rises in your throat from questions that swirl violently in your brain.

Why was Terrance in here alone with your uncle? And why were you being introduced to him? Something wasn’t right. Something was off, very off.

Maybe when you’re 18, you can join them. No, that wouldn’t be it, he promised you that you would just be a dancer.

You blink away your thoughts and take in his appearance. He stands maybe six feet high, he’s built but somehow frail at the same time. When he takes his black top hat off and nods his head at you, you see the thinning hair that sits atop his head. It’s ash blonde with grey streaks running through every other strand. And his mustache is almost slimy looking, wet and slicked over with a grease like gel to hold it in place. You find yourself comparing it to Joel’s soft, trimmed beard and mustache. It’s nothing like this man’s. This man is… unkempt.

You take in his wrinkles, see the way his leathery skin pulls at the evil smirk that encases his chapped lips. This man is much older than you. Much, much older. Maybe the same age as your uncle or even older. You can’t tell, but he was way too old to be after a girl like you.

“So good to finally get to meet you, m’lady.” He takes your hand and brings his lips over your knuckles, planting a wet, sloppy kiss on your skin that makes you cringe. When you drop your hand back down, you run it over the back of your dress as you wipe the drool off your hand.

My lady? Just who did this guy think he was?

“Are you here to meet some of the dancers?” you ask him cautiously as you watch his grey eyes turn cold, calculating, and vindictive, but most importantly lust filled.

You watch his eyes scrape over you like sharp glass tearing through your skin, see the way he looks at you like a fresh piece of meat. He hones you like a hawk, piercing eyes scanning every inch of your body. You feel as if he sees right through the thin dress as he undresses you with his glazed over eyes. You cross your arms over your body and wrap the dress tighter around you, pretending as if that’ll make you feel slightly less exposed. It doesn’t help, not one bit.

“Not exactly,” he says, the vowels getting caught in between his teeth as he draws it out, words hooking on his annoyingly proper accent.

“Ummm, about that,” your uncle says nervously. He wipes at a bead of sweat on his forehead as his green eyes become big and wide before he says his next words. “He’s here for you.”

Your blood runs cold, veins constricting as you feel ice run down your bloodstream. You repeat the words in your head, almost positive you misheard him. He’s here for you. Here for you. But you hadn’t misheard. You heard him just right.

Maybe when you’re eighteen, you can join them.

“For me?” you whisper out, wide eyes looking over at Terrance as he runs his rough tongue along his bottom lip seductively, grey eyes hounding your body as he nearly combusts from his desire for you.

You see the way he looks at you, like a dog would a fresh bone. You see the way his fingers dig into his top hat as he stares at your breasts as they sit halfway exposed from the dress. There’s nothing but lust and desire in his eyes. Nothing but the mere inkling to rip your dress off and expose every inch of your body for him to indulge in. He doesn’t look at your eyes, or face, doesn’t even seem to care that tears are burning in the back of your eyes as he manages to violate you without even touching you.

Your uncle is selling you to him…

You hold your head high and bite your cheek before you say something hasty. You tear your watering eyes off Terrance, not able to look into the lust filled pits of his eyes anymore. Joel… Joel would never look at you like that, would never make you feel as small and feeble as Terrance just did. Joel looked at you with passion, need, like you were the only girl in the entire world. And that’s all you could think of now was him. Joel… the one you wanted.

“That’s right. For you,” Terrance smirks out the words as you stare distraughtly at him.

Your uncle looks between the two of you, the lines of his forehead wrinkling into worry lines. He looks nervous, sad even. And you know then this had to be a sick joke. He couldn’t be serious. He wouldn’t.

“Terrance, can you wait outside for us at the bar? Maybe go grab yourself a scotch? Need to speak to my little petal here,” your uncle says. Terrance nods and moves toward the door, sliding up behind you as you feel his hand brush up against the back of your dress, dangerously close to your ass. You suck in a breath and let him pass through the door, waiting a few seconds till you can’t hear his light footsteps down the hall anymore. Then you attack.

“What do you mean he’s here for me?” Your voice is raised, anger biting back as you snarl down at your uncle sitting calmly in his leather office chair.

“He’s…. uhhh he’s….” he stutters, nervous drips of sweat falling from his forehead as he takes a hand towel and dabs at his drenched skin.

“Just tell me!” you demand, almost screaming at him as your red polished fingers slam on top of his desk with a jolt, making a stack of thick papers fly down to the floor.

He sighs and nods before telling you. “He paid me money to have you…” he whispers out defeatedly.

“You sold me? To him?!” you yell loudly as your face floods with hot heat, anger and broken trust filling your insides like hot lava.

“Petal, I can explain,” he pleads as he holds his hands out, begging you to let him speak.

“Don’t!” you cry out, pointing your index finger in his direction as you see the shiny red polish shimmer back your way. “Don’t you dare call me that!”

Silence fills the air and you have to swallow the sob that creeps up your throat. Your hand falls to your side, “You lied to me,” you say quietly, hurt seeping through you as you feel your heart shattering. He was the one person you always counted on to be honest with you.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t lie,” he says defensively.

His defensive tone comes out cockily and you feel the anger bubble back to the surface, “You lied to me the day you started making me entertain those men! The day you made me sit on their laps as they looked at me like I was just a wet hole for them to fill.”

Your uncle cringes but you aren’t done, “You lied to me the moment you promised I’d never have to be fucked by any of those men! And now look. You fucking sold me to an older man, who spent the whole time looking at me like I wasn’t even a fucking person! Like he just wants to use me till I’m no more, until I’m nothing!” The words get caught on a choked cry as you feel a wet tear slide down your cheek. You swear with how quietly still the room is that you hear it splash on the floor.

Your uncle just looks at you with sad, distant eyes. Eyes that say they’re sorry all on their own. It makes you burn hotter, the betrayal cutting a clear knife down your back. You trusted him. You fucking trusted him. And look what he did. Sold you out to get fucking paid. Pathetic.

You turn toward the dark door and reach for the gold handle, but he stops you before you can twist it open. “Please, wait. Let me explain,” he begs as he stands from his chair, nearly knocking over the large picture of the Eiffel Tower off the back of the red walls.

You drop your hand from the door and walk back over to his desk, crossing your arms tightly over you as you wait to see what good excuse he gives you. “So, tell me. Go on. Tell me why you did this to me. I’m waiting,” you say coldly, eyes burning into his as he gulps and runs a hand through his sandy overgrown hair.

“I got a visit from some government people today. They don’t like what we’re doing here, petal. They threatened to shut us down. They found out it was more than a bar. Found out exactly what goes on here every night, and they don’t like it. Not one bit.”

He takes a large gulp of his brandy drink and shakes his head as he continues. “They’re making us pay double the property tax now. Says they’ll let us stay open if we keep that agreement. But do you realize how much money that is every year? And then Terrance walked in. I offered him any other girl, multiple girls if he wanted. I tried introducing him to other dancers, but the only one he wanted was you. I saw no other way, sweet pea. I was desperate.”

You take a step back and peel your eyes to the floor, your eyebrows knitting together as you take in his words. Your eyes grow wide at the information he just told you, but you can’t say anything. You’re too shocked from everything he just said, the words hitting every single nerve ending in your body like a freight train crashing right into you.

“They wanted to shut down the Moulin Rouge…” you barely whisper, your voice coming out as quiet as a helpless mouse.

“That’s right, petal. I had to strike a deal or they would’ve shut us completely down tonight. We would’ve ended up on the streets. All the women and children of this place; unsheltered and without work or food. Can you imagine?”

“No… I can’t imagine that…'' you say starstruck, your mind in a thick cloud of haze as you slowly face him again. His face is so sad, so drenched with apologies as he looks right at you with eyes that scream to you to forgive him. And you can’t say no, you can’t deny him that. Not even if what he did was cruel and selfish. But it wasn’t really that selfish because he was saving the Moulin Rouge. He was saving everyone that lived here, even you…

He comes around the desk and steps in front of you, taking one of your hands in his as he looks at you with sincere eyes. “You know I’d never do anything to hurt you on purpose, right?”

You stare at the floor and purse your lips, deep in thought as you gulp down tears and meet his eyes again cautiously. You nod your head slowly as you continue to listen to him.

“I love you like my own daughter. And I promise you, if this incident didn’t happen today then I never would’ve taken him up on his offer. I never would’ve sold you like that, but I was desperate. I saw it as the only way out of this deep hole I got myself into. And I’m so sorry, so very sorry…”

You drag your tongue over your pristine teeth and look at him with hurt eyes, but you understand why he did it. He was desperate, only trying to save the ones he cared about. But that dark, nagging thought at the back of your head continues to scream at you, trying to tell you that he would do it anyway. If it was a large sum of money, would he still have sold you out? Without the government getting involved? You’d never know…

“How much?” you ask thickly.

“How much what?” he asks with furrowed eyebrows.

“How much did he offer you for me?” you ask coldly, choking back tears as you stare up at him with hurt written all over your face.

“$300,000…”

Oh.

Your eyes go wide at the large sum of money. $300,000? Holy shit…

“That’s a… wow. That’s a lot,” you gasp in shock.

“It is. It’s enough to save us, petal. Enough to keep it all going,” he smiles, eyes turning a bit brighter as he says it.

“How long am I supposed to entertain him or be with him or… whatever this is,” you ask in disgust, not wanting to think about his sloppy hands and greasy moustache on your clean skin.

“It’s not forever, petal. He’s much older than you. Maybe a few years with him, if that.”

“A few years?!” you shriek in surprise. “But he… but I don’t…” The words leave your mouth in choppy stutters. Your throat feels dry and constricted, and you can’t find the strength to finish your sentence.

“I know, petal. I know. Again, I’m so sorry. I know he isn’t your first choice. But he’s got a lot of money. He can take care of you. Maybe in ways I never could…” he says sadly, eyes dropping to the ground. He means he couldn’t save you from your impending doom. He couldn’t save you from the grimy hands of Terrance, the man that came and wrecked your life like a ship caught in a raging storm. But he’s the one that sold you… your uncle. The man you used to see as your hero.

“I don’t want him to take care of me. I get along just well on my own,” you say proudly with your chin raised high, trying your best to sound brave when your entire world is getting flipped upside down like a coiled up ball of yarn, no way of untangling your way out.

He sighs and shakes his head sadly. “I’m sorry, petal. I did what I could. Why don’t you just go back to your room and take a nice long bath. Don’t worry about Terrance tonight. You can see him tomorrow night.”

Tomorrow night. That meant he’d expect to sleep with you, show you off like his prized possession amongst all his rich friends. You feel a wave of nausea roll over your stomach, feel the backs of your eyes sting with fresh tears waiting to fall like raindrops down your face, feel the pure need to run to Joel, have him wrap you in his strong arms where it’s warm and safe. Where you belong. Where your heart burns.

You don’t turn back around to say goodnight to your uncle, you just place your hand on the cold metal knob and twist, stepping back into the loud hallway as men chant and girls twirl and dance for the men vulgarly. You walk past them lifelessly, holding in your tears till you reach the staircase, making yourself walk faster as the anxiety starts to crush you.

You grip the cold railing of the staircase and climb up each step with the weight of the world on your chest. It’s hard to breathe, hard to filter in fresh air when you feel as if you’re stuck underground with no escape in sight, suffocating on dirt and the stench of Terrance, weighing yourself down as you remember him carving his cold eyes over your body like a hyena ready to make you his dinner.

As soon as you enter the dark hallway, you turn the opposite way of your room. Your body almost having a mind of its own as you head to the dance studio. This room where you teach the children, a place of innocence and laughter. You close the door behind you, slide down the back of the door and end up on the floor as you curl your head into your knees, feeling the wet tears hit the pink material of your dress. You choke out tears knowing what you’ll have to do tomorrow, grab your silky hair between your polished fingers as you think of his dirty paws all over you.

It’s not forever. You can fake it. You can do this.

But you aren’t sure you can because every time you even think of Terrance your mind goes to Joel. Joel, Joel, Joel. He’s the one you want, the one you need. And you want him so badly that even thinking about him hurts.

Joel. He can’t find out. Not yet. What would you tell him? What would he do? You’d have to keep it to yourself. At least for a few days. Yes, just a few days. You could do that… right?

[casdeans-pie]

Part 2 of Flustered Castiel Accidentally Explodes Lightbulbs And Causes Power Outages Especially When Dean's Fingers Are In His Hair

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4. Thanks again to @dreampencil for the inspiration to get this done!

Thanks to everyone for all the great feedback on part 1!

---------

The second time it happened, Dean was trying to make a joke out of it. (Even if the reason he did it wasn’t funny at all).

The thing about hunting The Winchester Way was that it sometimes involved dressing up in silly outfits.

Gym teacher, fitness instructor, insurance salesman, television crew, that one time they were zookeepers… The Winchesters never skipped an opportunity to infiltrate a case by wearing a ridiculous disguise. Nearly every hunter out there had pretended to be FBI, or doctors, or part of the CDC, but where was the fun in that? Something about putting on the outfits of these different people like he was stepping into their skin appealed to Dean’s inner child who had never had the time or opportunity to play pretend games.

Ironically, Dean had been calling it The Winchester Way since he and Sam had started hunting together, but at no point could either of them imagine John Winchester ever dressing up and pretending to be in any of the professions that they had used for a hunt like that. So, in fact, maybe it was just The Dean Winchester Way.

Which was fine with Dean.

And being an Angel didn’t excuse Cas from this.

If anything, it created an extra dimension of fun, because then Dean got to see Castiel Angel Of The Lord’s pouty bitchy frown whenever he had to wear whatever silly outfit they were using for their disguises.

But it had never backfired before…

The plan for the hunt had been simple: their research had led them to the deeply religious Mark Lomax, who’d unknowingly purchased a cursed pocket watch. He would be kept busy talking at his door with Dean and Cas, while Sam broke in through the back and removed the curse. To keep him talking for long enough Dean and Cas would be disguised as members of a new local church appealing for new followers to combat the evils of all the recent deaths and murders in town.

Simple.

Dean had no love for the cardigan-wearing-sensible-hair look, but he’d thought that it would be worth it to see Cas dressed up all dorky like that.

But the laughter that Dean had been ready to let loose turned to acid in his throat when Cas emerged from his room – with his frown firmly in place – and a name resounded like a thunderclap through Dean’s skull.

Emmanuel.

Dean froze where he stood, feeling his blood run cold.

And then, to his increasing horror, he distantly heard Sam complaining about the state of Cas’s hair through the ringing in his ears. Sam reached over and flattened the soft black spikes with his hands, completing the look even further.

Cas pouted the whole time.

Sam eventually stepped back to survey his work and nodded. “Much neater,” he said.

But Dean could almost feel his heart breaking all over again, remembering how it felt to look at Cas and see no recognition in his expression. Meeting his wife-

“Dean?” Cas said, the line between his eyebrows deep and furrowed at his long silence. His blue eyes locked onto Dean’s and held there.

You know me, Dean remembered thinking desperately, even as Cas- Emmanuel had looked at him like a total stranger.

The affection almost glowing in those same eyes now finally seemed to ground Dean back into reality.

Castiel. Cas. He wasn’t Emmanuel. He’d got his memories back.

You know me, Dean thought with relief, as he felt his heartrate slow.

“Dean?” Cas asked again, his voice low and laced with concern.

Sam cleared his throat.

Dean swallowed, shook off the last of the nightmarish flashback, and finally broke eye contact with Cas. He gestured at his hair. “C’mon, Sammy,” Dean whined with a shake of his head, “look what you’ve done to him. Lomax isn’t gonna believe this guy even leaves his house. Definitely won’t think he goes door-to-door.”

Without waiting for a reaction Dean took the two strides to stand in front of Cas and plunged his hands deep into his hair, intending to ruffle it back out and fully dispel the image of Emmanuel.

A few things happened at once.

The lights above them fizzed loudly as they flashed almost blindingly, while the whole bunker buzzed and groaned as every electronic console and device flared to life – dials whizzed, switches blinked, and car alarms all simultaneously blared from the garage. The lights flickered and dimmed and flashed brightly again. The electronic buzzing increased in pitch until it hit a reedy whine, and just when it felt like the whole bunker was going to overload or his eardrums were going to burst, Dean removed his hands from where he’d left them in Cas’s hair to slap them over his ears instead- and everything stopped.

The lights returned to normal, the ringing and the alarms stopped, and all the devices powered down again with a gentle hum…

Dean and Sam slowly removed their hands from their ears.  

The three of them looked at each other in the eerie silence.

Dean could see that Sam was fine, just a little shaken, but Cas’s chest was heaving as if he were short on breath. His hair stuck up at crazy angles where Dean’s hands had pushed in, and his wide eyes were once again locked onto him.

Sam looked up at the lights. “What was that? Should I check on the power?”

“Cas?” Dean asked hesitantly, remembering a similar phenomenon that had happened on a hunt once before.

Cas finally blinked. “Uh. Excuse me-” His voice came out at an even lower rumble than usual, and he practically ran back to his room. The door slammed behind him.

“What’s going on?” Sam said as he looked between Dean and where Cas had gone. “What happened?”

Dean let out a low breathy laugh. “I think… I think I know. But I uh, I might need to do one more test. Y’know, just to make sure.” He clapped Sam on the shoulder. “Nothing to worry about, Sammy. Just grownup stuff.”

Sam shrugged and snorted as he went to check on the consoles of dials and lights. “I shouldn’t even be surprised with you two anymore,” he mumbled as he went. “D’you think he’s coming back?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll give him five minutes to compose himself and then we’ll get the show back on the road.”

If Dean needed any more confirmation that Cas was really himself, here with them- here with Dean, well, that was certainly it.

His heart felt too big for his chest suddenly.

With his good mood restored Dean grinned as he looked out at where Cas had fled to. He flexed his hands by his side, remembering the brief moment that he’d had them in the feathery softness of Cas’s hair.

First, they had the hunt, but then Dean had an experiment to plan.

------

Part 3: [link]

[someonexsomeone]

Bus Boy

Title: Bus Boy

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: NonSorcerer!Megumi Fushiguro x np!Reader

Summary: There's a really cute guy on your bus ride.

Authors Note: completely inspired by Laufey's "Beautiful Stranger"! okay listen listen listen I know Laufeyfest is over but I love this song sm and I'm sad I didn't put it on the official list so like just think about this as a spin-off type deal okay?

There's a really cute guy on your bus ride. Like, not just a fleeting, ‘eyes skimmed and appreciated and moved on’, but more of a ‘eyes skimmed, couldn’t comprehend what it saw, near whiplash to make sure I’m seeing what I’m seeing’ cute. He wasn’t looking at anyone near him, but the way he fluidly moved with the bus and the people around him made it clear he was more observant than his relaxed stance appeared. He was looking out the window, the sun shining just right on his face so every sharp angle was highlighted, his eyes sparkling as they watched the passing scenery. Eyelashes long enough to question if they were real or not barely fluttered as things whipped by, and didn’t move in any way to indicate he knew you were staring (which was impressive because you had been staring at him for just a tad bit too long at this point, and oh god, why won’t you look away? This has to be getting weird right?). His hair was dorky in an endearing way, spiked up in all directions, though it didn’t look like he had to use any product to get it that way. Effortless, just like the rest of him. 

You were rather reluctant to come all the way out to the countryside for your summer vacation. To be completely honest, you nearly burst into tears when your parents decided you would go help out your grandparents for the summer, needing to ship you away while they went to whatever new conference they needed to attend. Plans that had been in the works for months suddenly went down the drain, and there was nothing you could do about it. You loved your grandparents, you really did, and their adorable farm on the outskirts was often a great place to get away and relive old memories. But, to be honest, there hasn’t been anything fun to do down there in years. You were older now, nearly the age where you would set out on your own adventure with all the freedoms and restrictions adulthood provided, which meant that you were much too old to be digging around in muddy creeks to look for frogs, or dressing up in ridiculous outfits to entertain your grandparents’ many friends. Both of those memories forced a shiver up your spine. If they made you reenact The Princess and the Frog again…

That was what most of the bus ride had consisted of, reliving old memories and having to physically stop your face from contorting by squeezing your hands together, until just as you were pulling into the town center, the cutest guy you had ever seen sat right across from you without warning. Your long stare was interrupted by his very being, and the way the sun haloed his head almost made you question if you were witnessing a real encounter with an angel on Earth. To be fair, you were sleep-deprived, barely managing to hop on this bus before it left the train station, bag being hastily shoved back together when it popped open from the force of your desperate attempt to get aboard. A complete mess, for lack of a better description. And here was some guy at… 5:30 am (?!?) looking like he was one wardrobe change away from walking down the runway. He definitely caught your eye, to which you hastily looked away, trying as hard as you could to will the universe into help you this one time in making the cutest guy you’ve ever seen not remember the person who made a fool of themselves by ogling at him with drool dried to the side of their face. 

Now you think the universe listened a little too hard. Of all the things to really pay attention to, it had to be your wish to be forgotten by Bus Boy (Vehicle Man? Beautiful Stranger? Hot Farmer? Angel Guy? You had yet to come up with a good enough name to describe him), and not any of the other countless wishes you made before getting onto that fateful bus. You’re a little embarrassed to admit, but ever since that original meeting, you’ve been trying to get a second chance at a first impression. Any errand your grandparents needed to do, you were the first to volunteer. Grocery shopping, delivering or picking up from friends, even going as far as going back to the train station to pick up an emergency order, all to get a glimpse at your cute Bus Boy. It was even expected at this point, no one asking before dumping something in your hands with the shared bus pass placed on top. It was mortifying the teasing that came with it now, most of your family, and their friends, figuring someone was the reason why you were too excited to head into town, despite the many, many excuses you came up with to justify your actions (you were pretty proud of yourself for some of them, but, alas, your family is too romantic to want to believe anything else). 

In the least creepy way possible, and with a lot of trial and error (which is also definitely not creepy), you were starting to notice a pattern in his daily routine. He rode the bus at an ungodly hour in the morning, seeming to head from the larger town to the farmland on the outskirts, getting on long before you would and a handful of stops before you, which made it difficult to see him then. In the afternoons, it seemed like he was the same type of errand boy you were, whether by choice or not you weren’t sure, but he rarely carried anything with him and it was a completely random chance that you would see him. At night, or, really, around sunset, he would be on the bus headed back towards the town, seemingly going home. 

This seemingly random schedule, and the complete opposite nature of your bus routes, made it nearly as hard to avoid him as it was to see him. It seemed almost karma in nature the way he would always show up on days you weren’t feeling your best, just trying to get in and out or not bothering to put any effort into your appearance, and those instances where you were feeling great, on top of the world in confidence, he was nowhere to be seen. 

Which is, of course, how you ended up here, staring (gawking) at him on the hottest day of the year. This had to be the ultimate punishment, all that complaining from the beginning of summer and the secret wish you had that something, anything, would prevent you from being forced to the outskirts of civilization topped with the fact that you’re kinda sorta stalking this guy who, let’s be real, has no clue you exist. 

It was the most brutal day of your stay so far, being sent to your grandfather's close friend to help them move some things around. Easy enough, right? Wrong. It was only after you got there that they dared to tell you that they needed the entirety of their old shack emptied so they could tear it down to build a new one. Very exciting for them, a very mud-covered day for you. There wasn’t much you could do to salvage your clothes from the brunt of it, completely stiff from the dirt and grass and just years of grime that thrived in that neglected shed. One tumble involving a rusted bucket of mystery liquid destroyed your pants and shoes, and an accidental bump into a support beam sent a rain of rotten wood to really add to the whole experience. The couple was nice enough to send you back in some spare clothes so you wouldn’t dirty the bus with the worst of it, but you must have been a sight anyway because not a single person on the entire ride back had the decency to look subtly. The pants fit, thankfully, but they were bright pink and fuzzy, and the shirt was an old button-up that was nearly as ratty as the ruined clothes in the plastic bag by your foam sandal-covered feet.

To be honest, you were near tears, feeling pathetic.

And to make matters worse, Bus Boy, naturally, had to make an appearance and kill any happiness you hoped to find at the end of a grueling day. Sitting prettily, taking a break from the newspaper spread across his lap to watch the passing landscape, like some artist's wet dream. What were the odds that he was going to be on this stupid bus, far later than he ever did, passing all his usual stops, prolonging this horrible moment? You wanted to curl up into a ball, but there was also something healing about staring at this beautiful man that made breathing simultaneously easier and harder. 

Now that you were looking closer, you could tell something was a little…off. What it was, you weren’t completely sure, but his usual relaxed stance was a little stiff, kind of like he was getting ready to bolt the moment the door opened. Honestly, you were surprised every time the doors opened and he remained where he was, just as tense, if not more, as the minutes passed. 

Not that you were looking that closely, of course.

The one mission you had currently was to make it off the bus before he could get a good look at you. Not that you had any idea if he noticed you, before today or even right now, but the idea that maybe this could be your second first impression made you nearly jumpy as he looked. After that initial gawking session, you would only let your eyes pass briefly over his, just to make sure he wasn’t looking at you, before returning to look towards the front of the bus, willing it to go just a little faster. Of all the days to have Bus Boy ride past his usual stop, it had to be today. Your hands couldn’t sit still in your lap, one too many passes over your face has made it impossible to figure out if you just added more dirt or you were just that gross, and you had to force your leg to top bouncing because it kept nudging the bag at your feet, the crinkle of plastic booming in the nearly empty bus.

Then finally, finally, it pulled up to your stop. You were on your feet before the bus came to a complete halt, a rookie mistake as the doors always took a second longer to fully open, and, of course, Bus Boy had to be sitting right next to the exit. You bounced on the balls of your feet, the longest 4 seconds of your life. You couldn’t help it, casting one last look at the boy you had tried so hard to ignore all ride. And, to your horror, he was looking right back at you, stunning you into near rigor mortis. 

Cute? What was I thinking? This guy is gorgeous!

“I-” his soft voice started (of course he had to have a nice voice too, are you freaking kidding me-), but you didn’t look up, forcing your way through the door the second they were wide enough, calling out a thank you to the driver over your shoulder, practically sprinting down the hill to your temporary residence. You were absolutely mortified.

Megumi watched you bolt with wide eyes, a blush creeping up his cheeks. He slapped a hand over his mouth, hiding his expression from anyone who dared to look over at him. It was the only thing he could do to stop them from shaking.

It was how Yuuji and Nobara found him three stops later, his legs nearly jelly as they pushed himself off the bus and into the darkening evening. His tight grip on the wad of newspapers he brought was nearly humorous.

“Woah! What’s up with you?” Yuuji called, jogging up to meet him. He was carrying a bag bursting with snacks under his arm, bounding up to him in anticipation of the star gazing the three were going to do tonight. Nobara leisurely strolled up beside him, arms gently carrying a blanket Megumi recognized as Yuuji’s. Megumi shook his head once, twice, trying to snap himself out of the spell you had cast on him, instead taking a second look at the now obvious women’s bag his friend was carrying.

“What’s with the bag?”

“Oh! Nobara was complaining about her shoulder acting up again, so I offered to carry it for her.” Megumi side-eyed his other friend, who was skillfully dodging his gaze in favor of examining her nails. It’s more than three months now since Nobara injured her shoulder helping our Yuuji and his older brother Sukuna reinforce a collapsing wall in their house (she was excellent with a toolbox, though it was rare for her to do any of the actual dirty work), a minor injury that didn’t even have her hospitalized, but every once in a while her shoulder will mysteriously ‘act up’ and Yuuji, who was horrified that his friend was injured in any capacity helping him, immediately is at her beck and call. “Gojo and the rest say hi, by the way. We passed each other on my way out, and he wanted me to bring you this.” Megumi rolled his eyes at the condom deposited in his hand.

“What an idiot.”

“He really is. Did he seriously think you’d have the courage to ask even though you’ve been creeping on them all summer without a word?” Megumi swung out his elbow, but Nobara simply sidestepped, putting Yuuji between the two of them.

“Shut up.”

“What, was your beautiful angel even more breathtaking today that you couldn’t ask them to come?” Nobara teased. Yuuji laughed, jostling Megumi to match the goofy atmosphere. After all, it wasn’t every day that their cool and collected friend looked as vulnerable as he felt. 

Megumi hesitated, recalling immediately the adorable shyness you displayed today, something he hadn’t seen since that first night he saw you. Your face was covered in dirt, obviously exhausted, and in clothes that were definitely not yours. He easily remembered your flushed face as you made eye contact, the longest he’d had the pleasure to hold. He felt a pleasant shiver run up his spine.

“Yeah. Something like that,” he mumbled, his cheeks flaming bright pink. His companions didn’t give him a moment of peace, hounding him immediately for his more than obvious crush. Megumi rolled his eyes at them, chucking the unneeded (but not unwanted) condom in the trash as he ushered them to start their climb up the hill.

Next time, he thought, falling into step with his laughing friends. Next time, he’ll pluck up the courage to finally ask you to hang out outside your near-daily bus rides. And, while he’s at it, tell you just how beautiful you are.

______________________________________________________________

masterlist  l  Laufeyfest masterlist

[n3onwraith]

I forgot to post that I drew Needles! You can't tell, I haven't made the HC doodles comprehensive yet, but hisbneedles hide under his skin and eject when needed, like those spike traps but millions of needles!

I'm gonna put all my HCs below the cut just to spare yall

He's def a natural redhead to me, but bleached it a lot before becoming an avatar

Technically, this would only be his human disguise thing. Full eldritch is reserved for attacking ppl and defense, which is rarer than attacking people, and in that form he's all lanky with all his needles out all the time like a fucked up longhorse and pincushion had a baby and it got possessed

He just has no sense of pain most of the time, at least related to intrinsic issues. Getting stabbed or shot hurts, but when his bones constantly break as Eldritch Needles or when his limbs fall off (like Sally from Nightmare Before Christmas) he doesn't feel all the pain, just a tinge or a pinch

Can remove his needles from his skin, but their 'slot' stays open until he puts them back or replaces them (like shark teeth, he grows them but can also swap them out for found ones) and he uses that to sew himself back together as needed

Lots of piercings, most home-done. Really only his lobe and one of three cartilage rings is professional, he did the rest as an angsty teen for fun

Was turned as a late teen/in his early twenties, and therefore his disguise stays looking that age because that's the only way he really remembers who he is and what he looked like. Eldritch Needles is just a fucked up skinsuit really, a puppet for what he needs to do, and Needles himself can't remember or guess what he would look like by now (bones, probably, with his luck, but he was taken as an avatar/eldritch in the 90s/early 2000s so realistically only around 40-50 or so)

Got in a ton of accidents as a kid, always was and always is banged up somehow

Flashes his needles and puffs up on instinct when things piss him off, has to stop himself from doing it around people

A gifted kid for the institute who ended up being neglected outside of schoolwork and what he could do (projection?)

Glitters in the sunlight even with the needles put away. Its just bcs he's got so much metal in him and the sunlight catches the slots weird enough to glint briefly

The jacket reacts the same way his hair and needles do, like an external organ, but it's only due to it being part of his avatar influence shit and its not actually a part of him. It goes dormant when removed or unwanted

Like a hedgehog hair-wise, it's harmless and like regular hair until it's Needle Time (TM)

Easily offended/angered, as seen in the 911 call, and likes to fuck with people. I'd guess older sibling if he had any, but the kind where you matured too fast and then slowed your roll so late you were the immature one (projecting)

Likes to be colorful but in a dull way. Washed out colors just suit him better in his opinion and let him express himself without drawing attention to himself and the fact he's not quite human anymore

Gap teeth <3 Wanted to get braces as a teen but didn't, still pissed about it because now he can't and it doesn't matter since hes not human anymore anyways. slowly learning to like the gap when his angel fangs don't get stuck in em

Didn't draw it but he has snake bites too, just rarely wears them. It's either angel fangs or snake bites but never both because they tend to snag for him

A parallel of both Nikola and Michael, kind of. He's got little bits that Norris, Chester and Augustus would recognize if they ever met him, like his speech pattern and penchant for never giving straight answers, but he's got his own thing going on more than the parallels ever could be.

Rip off Cheshire Cat. Alice in Wonderland, the animated one, was his favorite movie growing up for the colors, and when he got older for the story

[oceanlipgloss]

HAPPY MEAL

BEELZEBUB.

+ warnings: dark themes, erotic hues, strong language (added are 2 cups of low-carb fluff + 1 tbsp. of light, ‘diet’ angst)

+ female mc, feminine pronouns.

At the time, it sort of didn’t feel lonely anymore, that atrociously endless thing. Existence.

Damn, though, the girl didn’t know how to handle a knife or spoon properly; she wouldn’t manage to prepare something edible even if to save her own ass. Then again, neither could he, probably.

Who cares if the stuff he makes tastes great? The ‘aftertaste’ of its repercussions is nothing short of unpleasant. Fucking blasphemous, actually—for each and every bite brings about a bountiful harvest of unwelcome side effects. Like a new medication manufactured to treat not even one ailment would do.

Did he perhaps spike everything? Just how many of them did he put in there exactly, the drugs?

Yet, absurd as her dealings with recipes were, he thought she was cute as fuck. She was so adorable and so corrupt. The perfect, most harmonious mixture.

Of course, as gluttony in the flesh and an insatiable patron of cuisine—with the foods, creatures and all—he ought to have found that inability of hers offensive, but it’s never too late to learn something new until it’s too late, isn’t it?

With her, that ‘what in “Hell” is a kitchen?’ mode had its charms. She was still young, too, and she satisfied him in other ways. Dreamy, dirty ways.

For once, however, the time they spent together was, well, normal.

Normal enough, that is.

He never did deny that he couldn’t keep his hands off of her even in the kitchen, did he? And he never did say that his hands didn’t go where they weren’t supposed to ‘just yet’ over and over and over and over again, right?

Whatever.

Old habits die hard.

They do, but he also soon remembered something: a little big wish he had put away in his hungry heart, then felt boiling over in his wandering brain every now and then.

He had always wished for a few hours of time. Being buried in a blanket of peace, painted with sunshine...that felt like it would be so nice.

Would she understand that when she had more fun, base things in mind?

Maybe he should once again put that wish away, postpone it to yet another other day. If old habits die hard, then how could birth traits themselves possibly melt off, or so much as sway?

Wasn’t he, after all, the king of gluttony?

He was voracious.

And before him was a pretty woman.

Together they were making a meal so unsatisfactory.

What’s the point of resisting these thoughts, fighting who he is, denying himself what he wants?

Fuck that.

Better just indulge, indulge, indulge, get so drunk on sin until it sloshes under his heated skin.

Everyone has their strong points; supposedly, it’s something known worldwide—like how between the sheets she drove him crazy, but in the kitchen she was merely a confused lady. Tragically clueless. Heartbreakingly unknowledgeable. Lost like a cat with no whiskers.

That is why she watched him do almost everything.

He liked how her glittering eyes were glued to him, like ants pressing needy kisses to a sugar cube.

He loved that she was thinking about sinful things—because of him, no less—so shamelessly.

Oily colours and powdery spices smeared his apron, but did she truly see them at all? No, she didn’t. And even if she did, would she have given a shit? No, she wouldn’t.

Because her eyes were on him.

He could have been stirring the soup and she would have been sucking in the hard contours of his bronze arm and the way his glistening muscles distorted those black tattoos.

In her freaky mind, musings about her tongue pressing against any part of his body were wildly spinning. How pretty the sparkle of her saliva on his body would be!

To her, the taste of his silky skin would bring her pleasure greater than that of an angel at thoughts of God and slaughter.

He was mouth-watering; all at once salt, acid and sugar.

Such was the truth—so much so that as he rummaged through the pantry, he almost heard her thinking, ‘kiss, lick, fuck.’

She was so dizzy with that vicious hunger chewing on her intestines and nibbling on her heart. She was so dizzy with it that thoughts of him nearly distracted her from a particular slice of mischief.

You see, he had in mind quite the...exotic ingredients. Said he wanted to see how they’d mix together and with food itself. Told her desire would ‘milk’ most of them out of her.

She thought it was awfully strange and disgustingly sexy, but why not do it another time? Wasn’t a lot of fun awaiting their tingling bodies after all this mess, anyway?

They both of them didn’t sit at the table for dinner. Why do that when they could eat straight from the scalding pot, their legs dangling down the cool counter?

His feet nearly touched the floor. She, on the other hand, was a much shorter, much smaller, much more breakable precious thing.

He was...happy.

It was sweet, having someone to eat with. Even if that wasn’t a big, proper meal.

She was an eccentric human who could only take so much, but he was rubbing off on her.

How else could one explain why the food merely filled a tiny hole in her stomach?

How else could one make sense of the way guts were aching for something else?

She was still starving.

He could taste it pouring out of her pores, the gluttony. It was hot, raging and uncontrollable. It was an irresistible, delicious kind of heat.

He was still happy.

Seasons change, and so do reasons.

He was so happy his stomach wouldn’t have been able to digest anything else for a while.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is a lie.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is what some cliché, half-assed romance novel would have said.

This is the dark world.

The truth is otherwise.

He is the devil king of gluttony.

He liked her company.

But how could a small pot licked clean with a certain special someone have ever made his appetite shut the fuck up for a minute or two?

Think again, will you?

+notes: sort of on the weirder, unappetising or slightly disgusting side, I suppose.

+ MASTERLIST

+ AO3 POST

©𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨

[skyeslittlecorner]

Tails for All! - Abaddon edition

Other parts: Kings | Gehenna | Tartaros | Hades | Avisos | Nilfheim | Paradise Lost

Dantalian

A small fluffy ball, slightly elongated towards the top. It looks like a deer, but with black fur instead of brown.

He's glad he has small horns because it makes him look less dangerous. He is even happier with his little tail. It's cute and matches Sailor Moon's uniform more than any nasty weapon. He only wishes you could write on it.

Asmodeus doesn't like his tail because, unlike the other two, he can't hold Dantalian by the tail like on a leash. Dantalian offered to attach barbed wire to his tail. You don't know how this conversation went further.

His tail smells lovely, like almonds. Why? Nobody knows.

The best anti-stress squeeze in all of Hell.

Sensitiveness 10/10. Stand on it. Crush it. Tear out the fur. Set it on fire. The more you abuse it, the better.

He will be honestly surprised when you start stroking and kissing him, but... hey, it's actually nice too!

Phenix

A long, feathery tail. The feathers are blurry because they are made of pure flames, you can't see where the feathers end and the fire begins. The whole thing is long up to the feet.

The color of his tail depends on his emotions, in arousal the shades change between red, orange and white when he cums (so usually).

Asmodeus asked Beelzebub to give Phenix a piercing at the base of his tail. Beel could not agree, because he was not his citizen, but under his watchful eye, Asmo did it himself and put a padlock on Phenix, thanks to which his tail does not burn inanimated objects.

Phenix can actually regulate whether his tail will burn someone or not, but he's too excited to consider such things.

Perfect for fighting. Angel feathers smell beautiful when they burn. In addition, severed limbs can be burned to prevent the enemy from bleeding out too quickly.

When not excited, his tail curls up and is much smaller and about the size of Stolas. At least that's what Morax said. No one else can confirm or deny.

Sensitiveness ?/10. How do you want to touch the fire? 

In fact, you saw that a one person can touch Phenix's tail whenever he wants. But Asmo is a mean bastard and all you will hear from him is "try it yourself".

In bed it can only be used as a night lamp. At least until you teach that little bird to keep his emotions in check (good luck).

Ronove

Calf-length, very hard, covered with stone-hard skin, with a ball the size of a fist at the end. Morningstar, actually. Dark, gray skin, rough. He actually has patches like a dinosaur. 

The spines are long, sharp and hooked at the tip. They will tear out a piece of meat if they get stuck. 

Can retract spikes. He controls them much better than Phenix controls his flame. When you're dealing with just the ball, it's very nicely slick and in the right shape... wait, that should have been at the end.

When he was younger and Asmodeus told him to shut up, he put his tail in his mouth. Now it's a bit too big. You can lick it too... wait, yes, at the end. Again. Oops. 

Perfect massager. Heavy enough that you can feel it running along your back and shoulders, but not overwhelming.

Sensitiveness 7/10. He loves playing with his tail when you are together. The tip and base are the most sensitive. Play with them, but not too gently, spankings and whips are most desirable.

Rough skin is perfect for grinding. Besides, he'd love to see it.

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…well, we know about one more figure from this country. And I have an unhealthy obsession with him. He's so hot he burned a hole in my brain, and he isn't even out yet. We only know his appearance from Love Unholyc, but just let's have some fun, I'll try to fit him something. We'll see how this post ages lol.

Asmodeus

Scorpion tail. As thick as his arms, black as his hair, hard and shiny, with a sting at the end.

At first, his tail is confused with Beel and vice versa. In fact, they are two completely different things. Beel is much more flexible and thinner, while Asmo is larger and harder.

He likes to sit on a chaise-longue-like throne in a brothel-looking hall, hold you in his lap, wrap his deadly tail around you, and watch Dantesque scenes at his feet with his queen by his side. The only thing missing is popcorn.

Like his hair, the tail is wrapped in barbed wire. Normal devils would prefer it had some sort of cover on it. The other kings wondered whether they should really do one to him.

Of course it's poisonous. The only antidote is to drink milk from his horn. If you don't please him, he will sting you to try harder. He likes watching you fight for your life…

...but he will never lose himself enough to do real harm to you. I mean, kill you. He will detoxify you long before you pass out.

By the way, do I need to mention that this poison is the strongest aphrodisiac in hell?

Sensitiveness 4/10. As opposed to being the embodiment of lust, his tail is used for fighting rather than caressing.

Yes, he will try to put his stinger in you. No, this is not a good idea. Of course he knows it, but he loves the horror and outrage on your face.

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

From the start.

Pairing: Austin Butler x reader

Summary: Austin was excited to go to the Oscars and possibly win a reward still a part of him felt saddened by Lisa Marie's absence, sure Kaia there helped but when he saw you, it was like an angel sent by Lisa found him and he promises himself he wouldn't let you slip away, and he doesn't care who he has to hurt to get you.

Warnings: mention of Lisa Marie's death, Kidnapping, Friends to lovers? Housewife kink, Toy Dildo, Vaginal Plug, Creampies, Fingering, Oral (Fem & Male), Dirty talk, Double penetration, Stockholm syndrome, Infidelity, Starvation, Knife kink, Yandere/Dark Austin, Forced Marriage, Pillow talk, Mention of murder, Filming, Spiked drink.

A/n: this was requested by @presleybbg and her beautiful ideas.

All that Austin could remember was how much pain he was in, he felt like it was too soon to pretend everything was fine like he wasn't mourning. Lisa was like a second mother to him and like his real mother, she was gone too soon. He was getting ready for the Oscars, fixing his bow tie in the mirror and running his fingers through his hair "You sure you don't want me to come?" Kaia spoke up after watching him for a second, her voice filled with a little worried "I have to do this alone." he replied, "I got to go, see you soon." He kisses his girlfriend before leaving, he wanted to just get this over with.

After running the red carpet, he began the search for his seat. He sighed, walking around the small area where his seat would be but he was starting to think the person who told him where it was supposed to be was simply right, 'great' he groaned about to make his way back when a voice stopped.

He looked over his shoulder and his heart skipped a beat or two.

A woman waved eagerly to him with a smile "Over here!" she called and Austin follow her voice like a lost puppy "T-Thank you" he stuttered as he now stood in front of her "Your welcome." you smiled and walked past him just a little before he stopped you "let me thank you more? How bout some coffee or something?" he asked, pulling his hands in his pockets, trying to seem put together though everything wasn't, you looked him up and down, it wouldn't be bad right? And to be honest, it would be cool to have a rising new star as a friend "Okay, I'd like that Mr. Butler." you answered reaching your hand out for his phone "Here let me put my number in." Almost without absolute hesitation, he gave you his phone and you typed your number into his contacts "I'll see you around" you smiled "Good luck!" you called before disappearing into the crowd. All feelings of warmth are gone with you and the coldness that was there before returning, Austin still had a smile on, one that looked so real, he wasn't an amazing actor for nothing after all, the night proved to be long and fruitless. Sure Austin was happy for his fellow actor, but the only good thing that happened was he met his true soulmate, he eat with his girlfriend and her family that night, texting you under the table if you wanted to meet up tomorrow, smile growing bigger once you said yes.

Shortly after that coffee 'date' you and Austin became friends fast, dodging paparazzi like the Matrix, tonight you were gonna visit one of your favorite nightclubs, you weren't much of a party girl but it was fun to let loose, and besides Austin has been quite busy, he deserved a break. You decided on a thigh-length dress, the top of the dress was off-shoulder and a sequin silver, the skirt was a plain black, almost leather-looking material and you paired it off with sliver-colored heels with red bottoms, you did some light makeup and went in your way. The club bosted music, flashing lights, and grinding, sweaty bodies took up the space, your eyes searched for Austin, once your glaze glanced at the bar, there he was, shooting down what seems to be whisky, he leaned against said bar, he a green almost see through blouse that was unbuttoned down to the third button showing off his firm chest and a little of his torso, the shirt tucked in black jeans addressed his slim waist, rings and a sliver chain jeweled his body, to finish his look was dark green leather boots that looked more black in the light of the darkroom. As you checked out the handsome man, your tongue licked your lips without realizing it, and thoughts of how he would sound moaning, telling how good your lips felt around his cock stopped as his eyes looked up and met yours with a smile. He waved you over and turned to the bartender, holding two fingers to him before he looked back at you.

"Precious." he greeted, when you finally reached him, his raspy, deep voice granted your ears, and heat built up in your core from his little nickname for you. "Hey Aus, how are you this night?" you asked and sat on the stool beside him, grabbing the shot the bartender put in front of you, Austin looked away from your question before looking back at you with a sad haze, a frown on his enticing lips "Kaia and i..broke up." your eyes widen, you thought things were going good between the two "I'm sorry to hear that.." your heart ached for him "It's fine." he downed the shot of whisky, watching the people dancing showing off his capturing side profile. You didn't know if the alcohol in your system give you so much courage but you gently moved his head and kissed his plump lips, he didn't hesitate to lick your lips for access to your mouth, you did, and his tongue explored your mouth, battling your tongue with fervor. You pulled away and gripped his hand, rushing to the lady's restroom where you resumed the heated make out, your hands fumbled to unbuckle his belt, and once you slid it out of the hoops of his jeans, you hooked your fingers into his pants and underwear before dropping to your knees bring them down with you. His cock bounced against his stomach, it stood proud, long, and thick, the slit wept pre-cum so much it dripped on the tiles of the clean-smelling restroom, your lips engulfed his head, tongue swirling around the slit, tasting the not-so-bitter salt of his pre-come causing a delicious inhale from the man above, your month took inch upon inch until his member rested in your throat, your eyelashes flatter as you look into his blue orbs through them "Fucking damn!" he growled, his hands took hold of your head, he begins to thrust in and out of your throat, using it as his cocksleeve, fucking it like he would your slopping wet cunt, drool poured out your mouth, covering the base of his dick and his balls "Dirty girl, making such a mess on my cock." he grunted, your already wet underwear dripped your slick.

"Gonna cum, and you're gonna swallow isn't that right?" his voice deepened and looked down at you with a smirk. You nodded, moaning around his dick, body squirming in want and excitement, he cursed, head thrown back, his thrust quickened and with a deep groan, pushing his whole member back down your throat, pumping load after load, forcing you to swallow everything, You pulled back, breath heavy, and your saliva smeared across your chin "Let's get you cleaned up." Austin spoke softly as he helped you up, your knees shook for a bit before regaining their previous strength, he cleaned you up and bought you back to the party. Austin held onto your stumbling self to the door of your apartment, your keys already in his hand inserting them into the door knob but to his bewildered, the door shot open, and a man with 2000 hair, a band T-shirt, jeans, and a grey beanie. "Hey, you're Austin Bulter! I didn't believe my baby guess I was wrong, here let me help." the man's voice sounded like a teenager's voice but he was obviously 20 years old but was simply stuck in the 2000 style, "I'm Nathan by the way" 'Nathen' smiled and took you from Austin's arms, and lead you to the couch, Austin's nose wrinkled from the strong smell of weed on Nathen's breath and the room. Who was this man? Was he your boyfriend? This lame ass- bitch- ugly looking piece of shit was your boyfriend? No. No. He couldn't be. Austin held back a snarl as Nathen leaned down and kissed you this would do. Austin said a quick goodbye and derived home with white knuckles, he broke up with Kaia for you, and he didn't regret it of course, he spend the rest of the night thinking of what to do, getting no sleep. It was a few days when came up with a plan, it was wrong but he needed you, and you belonged to him you just don't know it yet, Austin slides into the open window, clad in black from head to toe, a backpack over his left shoulder, he looked back to the windows, oh precious girl didn't you know how dangerous that is? But don't worry it will change, he take good care of you and keep you safe.

Austin kneed down on your side of the bed you and your dick of a boyfriend slept in, he took a needle out of a safe plastic small bag, a fast-sleeping drug filled the glass medical needle, he gently pricked the side of your neck and pushed the drug into your veins.

"What the fuck!" Nathan screeched Austin simply looked at him with a smirk that spoke of danger.

Austin grunted as he carried you to his car, lay in his back seat, and then sat in the driver's seat he sighed, glancing at your sleeping form, he didn't want to get rid of your poor excuse ex-boyfriend, oh well it no use to get upset about spill blood. It took two-three months and a lot of patience, for you to fall for him, and five weeks to get you to trust him, he kept you well-fed, of course eating the food and drinking the water to show that it was okay, untampered with, after that was smooth sailing. Austin walked through the door of the house he shared with his love, the smell of clean products flowing around the enclosed air, leaving his shoes on the shoe rack, he followed the scent into the kitchen, and his cock stirred to life as he leaned against the kitchen's open door frame, you were simply wiping the stove down with an apron on, still lustful desires flow within him, just by you doing wife like duties, he had already made you his wife, with a friend's help you were married on a certificate, yet to have a wedding, he'll make that happen when the time was right. You had yelled and screamed at him once he revealed that certain knowledge to you, now though you were happy to be his wife. His fetching blue orbs stayed on your form like a man stoned by one of Medusa's glances, quietly he set the bag he brought on the island and walked behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, his white Tank top from his recent photo shoot against your back "Why, Hello there precious." Austin smiled untieing your apron," I missed you." you spoke softly, turning around in his arms and allowing him to completely take off your favorite apron "I missed you too." he gently pecked your lips "I bought something we can have fun with, wouldn't you like that?" he said backing away and showcase the black plastic bag that read Spencer's on the front, you looked from the bag to your husband, if your core wasn't burning a scorching desire it was now, Austin's eyes were like a raging storm out in the open ocean with want, a mischievous smirk tugged at his lip, a hard bulge strained against its jeaned cage, you felt your cheeks grow heated as you nodded eye trained on the black baggie. Austin turned around and laid the items on the wooden island, "Come here baby." he called you over, stepping aside.

Your breath stopped, there sat a dildo that was roughly the size of your husband's length in the colors of glittery pastel blue, pink, and green with a pattern of tie-dye, beside it was a vaginal Plug the base color was black and was covered in royal purple paint splashes, the end was jeweled with amethyst and lastly, lube. Your pussy clenched around nothing thoughts of just what Austin could have in mind made your underwear soaked. "Undress precious. Slowly" Austin ordered, voice deeper with wanton dominance, resting his forearm on the wooden surface, your heart beat faster and you shredded each piece of clothing, pants, panties, shirt, and then bra all while trailing your hands on your body, the last article of your clothes dropped to the floor, and your lips locked together, his fingers squeezed your throat, enough to make you breathless and his rings cooled your feverish skin, your tongues swirled and licked crudely, the burning sensation lack of air pulled you both away, you look at each other, lidded eyes and panting. Austin took this time to truly appreciate your body "So goddamn beautiful." he breathed, helping you onto the kitchen countertop behind you, his lips latched on your neck as two of his fingers enters and pumps into your cunt roughly, his thumb rubbing at your clit with vulgar, a loud moan punched out of you as he began to scissor your pussy, stretching you open.

The edge of absolute paradise was ripped away, and you whimpered looking to Austin with betrayal "Patience." he chuckled, grabbing the lube and the over the top of the dildo "Open." he rested the rubber cockhead on your lips, slowly you part your lips and the toy, slides into your wet, hot maw, the rubber tasted like artificial strawberry, your eyes flattered close, the weight of the dildo was alike to your husband. You bobbed and sucked on it like it was, muffed moans and sounds of Austin's fingers fucking your weeping cunny "You like this baby? Sucking on a fake dick while I bring you to heaven and back?" Austin spoke in a trance as he watched you blow the toy like his first blowjob from you, you nodded sucking harder, your hips buck and your legs shook as your climax busted out. Austin gently pulled the colorful toy out then poured a generous amount of lube on it and his own "Ready?" he asked as he moved you to the cold tiled floor "I'm ready." you assured breathlessly, he rushed to push his jean, underwear completely and ripped his tank top off throwing somewhere to be picked up, you tried to relax as the toy dick was slowly pushed in, and Austin thrusted a back arching thrust, every inch of him was inside, his balls rest on the curve of your ass. The stretch was a sting burn, once your tense body relaxed, pangs of blissed-out pleasure shot throughout your body, and you felt so full! "Go." you smile as you saw the conflict on his face, "Yess." he hissed as he plowed into your cunt, each thrust forced the toy to box against your cervix, his balls wet from the lube and your juices, a wet smacking noise mixed with your loud moans, whines and Austins grunts, moans, and growls.

Your body jerked up, causing Austin's cock and the fake dick to come out little by little, Austin growled in frustration and slide you back to him, throwing your legs over his shoulders and holding down your thighs, resting them on his torso. He resumed pounding, your eyes rolled back, it was all too much the fast strokes of your husband's member up against the roof of your pussy while the dildo mini-strokes the bottom, his cum heavy balls spanking your ass no doubt leaving bruises from his hard treatment. Your legs began to shake, your back arching off the floor and your pussy gushing out your release Austin followed a little later, both of you gasped and panted for air, bodies covered in sweat, exhaustion heavy in the bones, you were on the edge of passing out when both lengths was pulled out, your eyes shot open and a whimper left your pouting lips "Sensitive." you muttered "I know precious, I just got to put this in you and I'll run us a bath." Austin chuckled as he gently put the plug in "Gonna need a wheelchair." you replied, his laugh was all you heard before you submitted to unconsciousness.

A week has passed since Austin had gone to another state to film, this was the first time he's been away for so long. The life before you had met him stuck in your mind like a core memory, being able to just go out to shop for simple things like grocery shopping and necessities, go to the park, and eat out, to feel the wind around you and the sun on your skin without asking for permission and being denied. You loved him, truly but the want, the desire become too much, and he would be gone for another week, so you packed a bag and some money and wrote a last goodbye note before escaping into the night. You couldn't go back home, despite the kidnapped you it would break your heart if he was arrested so you moved to another state away from California, far away. You got back on your feet, tried and failed to date no matter who you were with they weren't Austin, there was one time a man, a nice man fucked into you, he felt good but not like him, it didn't help that in the middle you moaned Austin's name, loudly. You decided that you were gonna go to a club, and you sat watching the crowd have the time of their life while the bartender made your order drink, your heart sped up for a second a split second you thought you saw Austin but when you glanced back he was gone, you shake your head and took a gulp of your drink before rushing to the restroom. You were listing your mind, he couldn't have found you this quick! It's only been three weeks, your classed the marble sink and looked up in the mirror, suddenly everything looked blurry and your head felt light, the last thing you heard was ladies' restroom door opening and footsteps then it went black.

You groaned as you came too, your head still felt fuzzy but not too much "Wakey, wakey precious." A familiar voice taunted venom laced, your eyes quickly opened "Austin." you muttered softly, Austin looked as good as he always had, though the closer you looked at him, he slightly had bags under his eyes, likely from searching for you "You know I thought everything was okay, I was happy, you were happy—well seemed to be." he hissed, his cold blues glared at you "I loved you. Did you even love me?" he asked, he started strong but at the end, his voice weakened "Of course I do!!" you reassured frantically, what have you done? "IF YOU DID YOU WOULDN'T HAVE RUN AWAY!!!" he screamed angrily, causing you to flinch, Austin sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, he got up and looked at you one last time before going. For two days you have been in the basement, without food or water, and yet you come to hate him, you missed more not that he was so close, you want to be in his arms, why did you leave? You had everything you could want, you perked out as you heard footsteps not before long Austin stood in front of you "Get up." he ordered, and you quickly obeyed "Fellow me." you followed him with your head down, was he gonna throw you? Was he done with you? Your heart ached at these thoughts, once you stepped out of the basement, the mouth-watering smell of food entered your nose "Go eat, I get you new clothes and run you a bath." he spoke, and in no time, you sat in down in the dining room and scarfed all the dish, drink all the water, you smiled, stomach full "it's ready" Austin said after finishing what he said he would do.

The warm water relaxed your tense muscles and the feeling of being completely clean, made you sigh with blissfulness, the clothes smell like roses and were soft against your skin, you were happy, and things almost seemed back to normal, almost.

Austin sat up against the backboard of the queen-sized mattress, his eyes boring into you, his phone and a knife on his bedside table "Strip and come here precious." he commanded, grabbing his phone, looking for something on it, you striped and hesitantly crawled on the bed stopping in front of him, slick already producing between your folds from the sheer dominance that radiant off your husband. He got off the bed and laid the phone beside the kitchen blade, he unbuckled his black belt, pushing his black jeans past his knees "Here's what's gonna happen, you are going to take what I give you and you're gonna like it, understand?" he pushed you to lay on the spot he was previously occupied, spread your legs and got in between them, his heavy member rest against your lips and clit "Answer." "Yes. I understand." Austin let out a pleased hum before grabbing his phone again and sliding right home inside of you, the stretch burned in the right way "Say hi to the camera." your eyes widen as his phone camera record your face and then shooting where you were one, he began to pound into you without remorse, his pubic bone smacked into your poor clit, the camera zoomed in recording, your cunt clenching hard on his cock almost slowing him down, growls and sexy huffs leave Austin no doubt enjoy your pussy, he fucked you as he missed it, the phone was suddenly was throw it to the side before grabbing the knife and held it to your neck, each jolt from his thrusting threatened to cut you, the feeling of the fear and danger of having such a dangerous woman that could hurt possibly end you filled you with excitement like a drug "Dose this turn my little wife on?" Austin chuckled darkly, moving the knife to your cheek, cutting a small line, a sharp hiss left you "Y-yes, so much!" you admitted, bucking your hips against his hips, Austin muttered a soft fuck and plowed you into the bed, pushing you both to the edge of pure paradise and bliss. You screamed as Austin stabbed the knife in the pillow beside your head, forcing an intense climax, Austin groaned as he pumped his cum into your weeping pussy.

"You. Are. Mine. Next, you try to leave I won't so nice." Austin pulled out of you and slammed the door on his way out, leaving you to your thoughts, his cum leaking out and the knife standing straight in the pillow. You sighed and closed your eyes, it would take some time for him to forgive you but you loved him, you need to show him that.

You sat up and walked through the door, planning on what would be done.

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