#and jack is relentless about it too once he learns that

[ftm-megamind]

can you imagine the glares that david sent in sarah's direction when she and jack were having that silly flirtatious conversation during dinner at jacobses

[24hlevi]

— monster!hyunsoo nsfw alphabet

monster!cha hyunsoo (sweet home) x fem!reader

summary: a nsfw alphabet with monster!hyunsoo

warnings: language, nsfw

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

monster!hyunsoo doesn't give a damn about aftercare, much like normal hyunsoo, he falls asleep extremely fast and doesn't even wait for you

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

monster!hyunsoo’s favorite body part of yours is your eyes, he loves the fear and tears in them when he's pounding into you. favorite body part of his is probably still his hands

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

monster!hyunsoo takes a bit longer to fully cum, you are probably on orgasm three and he hasn't even finished once yet, but he won't stop until he does

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

monster!hyunsoo has always wanted to bend you over the nearest surface no matter where you are or who you're with, when he needs you, he needs you

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

monster!hyunsoo is not very experienced, but he learns incredibly fast and soon knows exactly what he's doing

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

doggy 100%, he loves tugging on your hair and pulling you up closer to him or just shoving your face into the pillows to shut you up

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

monster!hyunsoo is serious when having sex, try to make a joke and he will either stop completely or it will be awkward

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

monster!hyunsoo would obviously be the same as normal hyunsoo, nothing is really groomed but it's not irritating

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

monster!hyunsoo is not romantic at all, he won't even mumble that he loves you, he’ll degrade you more than anything else, there's no romance

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

monster!hyunsoo doesn't jack off a whole lot, cause he knows he has you and can call you whenever and you'll come to him, however when he does, he can never get himself to finish unless you’re there with him

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

degradation, bondage, overstimulation, choking

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

usually in your place or his apartment, though a quickie in the bathroom somewhere he would be down for

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

whenever you wear revealing clothing of any type, when you're cooking for him, when you're sleeping, lots

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

honestly, monster!hyunsoo would probably do most things, one thing he wouldn't do though is roleplaying, he thinks it's weird

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

monster!hyunsoo loves receiving head more than anything, his hand will be in your hair tugging you back down onto him to hear you gag on him, he loves it. he's very good at eating you out too, he could sit there for hours

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

monster!hyunsoo is rough and relentless, he doesn't give up no matter what and will continue to pound into you until he's done

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

monster!hyunsoo loves quickies, for when he's stressed, when you need to go somewhere, he loves them anytime anywhere

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

monster!hyunsoo is big into experimenting, he likes trying new things with you and taking risks no one else would

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

monster!hyunsoo lasts a while before he finishes, you’ll likely be done before he is, and he’ll continue to until he's done

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

monster!hyunsoo doesn't have or like the use of toys, he is confident that he is enough and you don't need a little toy to help with it

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

monster!hyunsoo loves to tease, he does it constantly just to piss you off

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

monster!hyunsoo is pretty quiet, only a few groans coming from him but nothing more

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the

character)

monster!hyunsoo loves to have you when you're sleeping, it's all consensual but he loves when he wakes up with morning wood and you're beside him so he can just have you

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

monster!hyunsoo’s drive is through the roof, he is always horny and in need of you, so good luck with that

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

monster!hyunsoo falls asleep super fast afterwards, he won't wait for you, when he's done he is done

[harmonyhealinghub]

Athlete Transitions to Wellness Shaina Tranquilino August 26, 2024

Jack Reynolds stood in the centre of the large, sunlit room, inhaling deeply as the scent of eucalyptus and lavender filled the air. It was a far cry from the sweaty locker rooms and the thunderous roars of the crowds that once defined his life. But as he looked around the space that would soon be the heart of his new venture, he felt something even more profound—a sense of purpose. Jack had been a star in the world of professional football. For over a decade, he’d been a household name, known for his explosive speed and relentless drive on the field. But the years had taken their toll. His body, once a finely tuned machine, had begun to break down, and with it, his career. A string of injuries had forced him to retire earlier than he’d planned, leaving him adrift and searching for what came next.

The transition from the spotlight to a quieter life had been anything but smooth. For a while, Jack had tried to stay connected to the sport—coaching, commentary, even a stint as a team consultant. But none of it filled the void. He missed the camaraderie, the challenge, the way football had given him a reason to push himself every day.

It wasn’t until he stumbled upon a small wellness retreat in the mountains, far from the hustle of the city, that things began to change. The retreat had been a revelation. There, Jack discovered a world beyond the physicality that had dominated his life for so long. Yoga, meditation, acupuncture—these practices were entirely new to him, and yet, they spoke to him in a way nothing else had since his playing days ended.

He began to study, not just the techniques but the philosophies behind them. He learned about the mind-body connection, the power of breath, and the importance of mental well-being. It was a different kind of training, one that required not just strength but mindfulness, not just endurance but balance.

That’s when the idea hit him. What if he could combine his deep knowledge of fitness with these holistic practices? What if he could help others find not just physical strength, but true, lasting wellness?

And so, the idea for Renew Wellness Centre was born.

The centre was designed to be a sanctuary, a place where people could come to heal, to grow, and to transform. There were the traditional fitness programs, of course—personal training sessions, group workouts, and sports rehabilitation services, all based on the same principles that had guided Jack throughout his career. But alongside these were the holistic offerings that had so profoundly impacted him: yoga, meditation, nutritional counselling, and alternative therapies like Reiki and acupuncture.

The day the centre opened, Jack felt a familiar mix of nerves and excitement, just like before a big game. But this time, the stakes felt even higher. This wasn’t just about him—it was about creating something that could truly change lives.

Clients came, drawn by his name at first, but they stayed for the unique blend of programs. They found in Jack a guide who understood the demands of pushing the body to its limits, but who also knew the importance of nurturing the mind and spirit. He worked with professional athletes seeking to prolong their careers, as well as everyday people struggling with stress, chronic pain, or the challenges of modern life.

As the centre grew, Jack watched with pride as people transformed before his eyes. They became stronger, not just in their muscles but in their resolve. They found peace, not just in their minds but in their lives. And in helping them, Jack found something, too—a sense of fulfillment that rivaled even the greatest victories of his football career.

One evening, after the last client had left and the centre was quiet, Jack sat on a mat in the middle of the studio, the setting sun casting a warm glow across the room. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the peace that had eluded him for so long.

In that moment, he knew he was exactly where he was meant to be.

[halfamask]

Akiza who blushes when Sherry flirts with her once and then goes on a date with Yusei to learn to skate and ride a motorcycle and then her red turbo dueling catsuit???

Bisexual Akiza is my new fav ahhhhh

Yusei x Akiza bc you know his thing, whatever it is, with Jack and Crow is very open. And it’s not like Jack “I don’t have time for your stupid feeling talks” Atlas and Crow “I have too much love to give out” Hogan particularly mind bc 1) they for sure have other partners and 2) They love Akiza (platonically but anyways) and 3) their bond with Yusei is different than his with Akiza and they get how different types of bonds can be powerful in their own ways

Akiza x Sherry bc they bond over being woman turbo duelists in a very testosterone heavy world and then eventually hang out and meet for lunch and hang out for so long they do dinner and then drinks after and Sherry is just so flirty and every time she sees Akiza’s blush she wants to see how far down it goes.

Akiza x Yusei that’s playful and focused on each other, going on fun dates and turbo dueling and just getting each other so innately. Akiza x Yusei that’s full of him calling her beautiful because he legitimately can’t comprehend how such beauty is allowed to exist in one person. Friends to lovers Akiza x Yusei that can be serious and deep with each other and understand each other through duels and sit on bridges at late hours and talk about everything or talk about nothing and relish each other’s presence.

Akiza x Sherry that is bold and brash and playful, who challenge each other constantly. Whose banter is never ending and who will tease each other to get them to do things the other one wants. Akiza x Sherry who take the dueling world by storm and hold their ground for each other and for all future female duelists, who are relentless and passionate about everything in their lives including each other

[dsrtrose]

“ You… helped them? “ the man’s voice is scarily level, the kind of wavering tone bordering on a volcanic eruption. It is taking everything in him not to sound off the absolute fury and betrayal he feels at learning that not only Arthur, Sadie… but ELIZA had gone behind his back. He had thought… he…. He can’t believe this; any of this. After all he’d DONE for her, for THEM—and they’re proving every bit of a pack of snakes as Micah says! He pauses, then furrows his brow, as if giving her chance to explain. A chance to excuse herself, if there is any. “ … Eliza…?” / violence !!

it's  a  tone  of  his  that  -  for  all  intents  &  purposes  -  she  is  rarely  on  the  receiving  end  of.  it's  a  side  of  dutch  that  she  has  all  but  turned  a  blind  eye  to  for  too  damn  long,  only  presently  faced  head-on  with  the  consequences  of  time  sealed  into  the  pressure-proven  chamber  that  is  their  lot  in  life.

"dutch  -"  she  makes  no  excuses,  claims  no  ill-will  or  anything  except  the  truth  of  her  actions;  eliza's  hands  raise,  palms  open  toward  him  as  she  pleads  for  understanding,  speaking  slowly  &  softly  in  a  means  to  implore  him  to  see  what  her  intentions  were,  "-  please."

she,  who  has  followed  him  till  the  very  pit  of  her  soul  said  otherwise.  she,  who  put  respect  on  the  name  of  the  man  who'd  brought  them  all  together.  she,  who  stands  in  front  of  him,  honest  incredulity  on  her  features  thanks  to  a  situation  that  she  cannot  explain  in  a  manner  that  makes  any  more  sense  than  sheer  survival  ...  yet  is  painted  as  the  villain  in  his  eyes.

"he  could've  died  in  there,  dutch.  you  -  ...  we  abandoned  him,  an'  you  wanted  us  to  jus'  leave  him  there?"  her  own  temper  begins  to  rise,  standing  &  pushing  back,  relentless  in  heartstrings  held  behind  her  tongue,  "you  would've  robbed  jack  of  a  father,  abigail  of  a  husband?  why?"  they're  questions  that  have  no  answers  -  questions  poised  at  a  mind  poisoned  by  doubt,  by  delusion.

eliza's  volume  quiets  once  more,  emotion  hidden  heavily  behind  her  eyes;  "we  love  you,  dutch,  i  love  you,  i  care  about  you  -  but  you're  scarin'  me  to  all  hell  an'  back.  i  didn't  do  anythin'  wrong  by  goin'  to  get  someone  in  my  family."

*          /    @gravityfought    🤍

[mystical-lemonade]

Imagine a smol s/o with smol baby hands with the first years 🥰 (yes this is a request thank you)

Warnings: N/A

Wordcount: 570

Pairings: Ace Trappola x gn!reader, Deuce Spade x gn!reader, Jack Howl x gn!reader, Epel Felmier x gn!reader, Sebek Zigvolt x gn!reader

Ace absolutely adores that his significant other’s hands are smaller than his

It gives him such an ego boost.

As the younger brother Ace is used to being pushed around by his older and more physically capable brother

So he loves that with his significant other being so much smaller Ace finally has the strength advantage

It also means that Ace would be relentless in teasing his significant other about their stature

It makes him feel like he has to protect his significant other all the time

Honestly it’s a little obnoxious at times

Smack him a little to get him to stop once it inevitably becomes too much

It’s how he learns to keep in his lane

Hand holding is a constant with Deuce and a smaller significant other

Nothing makes Deuce happier than getting to intertwine his fingers with his so’s

Especially since his fingers wrap so far around their hand

Overall Deuce doesn’t really notice or care about his significant other’s stature

He just isn’t the type to focus on a person’s physical appearance

Deuce has personal experience that how people look doesn’t necessarily reflect what kind of person they are

He’d be happy to help if his significant other needed help reaching something

But other than that Deuce is far more focused on your heart than your hands or height

Jack is well aware of his size and strength compared to his significant other’s

He is a large young man even among his fellow beast men

So having a small significant other means that he would instinctually treat them like glass

Completely and irrationally afraid of accidentally squishing them if he isn’t constantly looking down.

Is his fear irrational? Absolutely it is

But that’s not going to stop Jack from holding your hand everywhere you go

Would stand guard, protectively growling at anyone who approaches when they’re hanging out in Savannaclaw

If you manage to convince Jack to cuddle with you, his tail would be wagging so fast it creates a breeze

As a considerably petite young man Epel would love and absolutely loathe his partner also being small

He loves it because he wants nothing more than to be the big strong manly man type that protects people from danger

On the other hand he hates that people comment on how small his significant other’s hands are

Because Epel’s hands are just about the same size has his significant other’s

So that tends to make him a bit upset when people comment on it

Epel would very much enjoy giving hugs, but he would avoid doing so in crowded areas

Less chance for Vil or Rook to see him and make infuriating comments

Sebek is a bit of a bastard when it comes to having a significant other

He is notorious for being a little snobby when it comes to the people around him

So having a significant other that is significantly smaller than him would just amplify that

He has good intentions when he tells them that they shouldn’t try and pick up large or heavy objects

But in Sebek’s eyes, small means super fragile and weak

He would publicly and loudly chastise his significant other when they try to participate in sports during PE

Sebek really wants his significant other to remain happy and healthy so he tends to fuss

But like everything Sebek does, he goes a little overboard with it

I hope you all enjoy the post! The first years are simultaneously fun and stressful to write. They are truly pure chaos

If you’d like to see more from me check out the previous wishes or make a wish yourself

Sincerely, Jupiter

[anabsolutetrainwreck]

through the warning signs || h. styles

warnings: a couple of swears, mentions of covid

word count: 3.1k

summary: you first met harry on the set of dunkirk, but now you’re reunited on the set of his new film...

Films had always fascinated you. The endless possibilities of art you could create, from the cinematography to the mise en scène, even to the sound, had always blown your mind. So, even from an early age, you always knew you wanted to get into filmmaking somehow. You were perhaps the worst actor to ever grace the planet, so acting was never an option for you. But alas, you studied film studies in school and went to university for the very same thing. At first, you’d considered becoming a cinematographer, but you realised you could entwine your love of film production and fashion. So, you found yourself as a costume designer.

In 2014, your dearest friend, Louisa, had dragged you to see Christopher Nolan’s Interstellar. She had an unhealthy obsession with Timothée Chalamet at the time, and had made you watch every single film he’d been in - big role or small. So, while Louisa was busy being in love with Timothée Chalamet, you were busy nursing an adoration for Christopher Nolan films. And then, in 2016, you found yourself in Dunkerque, France, working alongside Mr Nolan himself.

As well as being incredibly interested in films, you were also somewhat of a history buff in school. So, working on a film like Dunkirk alongside names like Kenneth Branagh and Cillian Murphy, was one of the most surreal first days on the job. Or, more notably, Harry Styles. Though Louisa was then going through her Tom Hardy phase, she was once a massive One Direction fan. And, though you never bothered to learn every last fact that was public knowledge about them, you could certainly appreciate their music.

As the weeks went on, you began to slip into place more. The more time that passed, the more you knew this was the career for you. And, you knew it wasn’t very professional, but you developed somewhat of a liking towards the singer. He was nice to you. But, then again, he was nice to everybody. It was just in his nature. You weren’t even sure he knew your name...

And then filming wrapped and you never saw him again. The pair of you had never exchanged numbers or followed each other on social media. And that was the end of that. And, after a month or so, your little crush on Harry died away. And, even when you went to the premiere, you only got a couple of glances at him.

In the three years since you last saw him, you’d never forgotten about him. It wasn’t exactly an easy feat forgetting about Harry Styles. But he had definitely been pushed to the back of your mind. Plenty of things had managed to take the front seat since then. You’d won an Oscar for Best Costume Design for your work on Greta Gerwig’s adaptation of Little Women at the beginning of 2020, which was completely insane (Louisa was still more amazed by the fact that you got to work with Timothée Chalamet). The award sat on your mantelpiece in your London flat beside a picture of Louisa and yourself.

However, more recently, you’d taken a place on the crew of Olivia Wilde’s new film: Don’t Worry, Darling. You’d worked on Booksmart with her and she simply adored you. Before production had even begun, you could already tell you were going to love working on this film. It was a psychological thriller set in the 50s - you were in love already. Not only that, but it was starring one of your good friends you’d made in the industry: Florence Pugh.

This all seemed great, until you were notified that Harry Styles would be taking the place of Shia LaBeouf to play ‘Jack’. You promised yourself that you wouldn’t let yourself be caught up by his unintentional charm once again. So, on the first day of filming, you turned up in your puffer jacket (despite it being filmed in California).

You had already worked with Olivia before filming on the costumes, or at least a large bulk of them. It was an odd sort of dynamic; she wanted you to take control simply due to your brilliant eye for fashion, especially vintage fashion, and you wanted her to take control as it was her film. In the end, you managed to create a cooperative working environment.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t stalling as you were fixing up Florence’s costume. Harry’s needed doing next and you didn’t exactly want to face him. You’d tried desperately to stay out of Harry’s sight. And, so far, you’d been successful. When it came to measuring, you’d kindly asked one of your assistants to measure him (and she was more than happy to do so). But all your clever sneaking around was about to go down the drain. “You all right, Y/N?” Flo asked, noticing your shaky hands and your incessant fiddling.

You nodded quickly, “Yeah. Yeah, sorry. I think you’re good to go.”

She smiled, “Thanks. Love you.”

“Love you too!” you grinned as you watched her jog away. She disappeared behind a couple of trailers. As you approached Harry, who was busy talking to a couple of other crew members, you tried to convince yourself that, if you kept your head down, there was no way Harry would attempt to make small talk as you fixed his costume. You’d have your mask on, so there was absolutely no way he’d recognise you. Besides, it had been four years since you filmed Dunkirk, he wouldn’t even remember you. As you neared Harry and one of the gaffers, you cleared your throat, “Do you mind if I steal Harry for a second?”

“Sure,” the gaffer nodded, turning to work on some of the lighting. Keeping your head down and your hands quick, you got to work on adjusting his tuxedo. Awkward was definitely an understatement. Or, it was for you, at least. In an odd sort of way, you were begging for him to make some sort of conversation to ease the sheer awkwardness, but you prayed he stayed silent at the same time. Alas, your prayers weren’t enough. “It’s Y/N, right?” his voice came, though slightly muffled by his mask, you made it out clearly.

“Uh, yeah,” you nodded, adjusting his cuffs and trying your very hardest not to make eye contact with him.

“Congratulations on your Oscar,” was what he said next. “It was for Little Women, right?”

That got you to look up at him. Had he actually remembered your name all of four years or had he just recognised you when you made your acceptance speech at the Oscars? Maybe Florence had just mentioned your Oscar win earlier in the year, and that was how he knew. “Yeah, it was,” you replied. “Congratulations on your album.”

“Cheers,” he said. It was a good album - both of his were. Louisa had forced you to listen to his entire discography whenever you drove her around. Not that you were exactly complaining, you enjoyed Harry’s music. And, just as the awkwardness was beginning to pour back into the atmosphere, he added, “It’s no Oscar, though.”

“It was a bloody good album, though. It was nominated for a Brit too, wasn’t it?” you asked, vaguely remembering Louisa scream in your ear that Fine Line had been nominated for Best Album, or something along those lines.

He nodded, “Well, yeah.”

And, just like that, the conversation fizzled out into uneasy silence. You wanted to kick yourself for being such a shit conversationalist; there’s people who would kill to have a chat with Harry Styles. Yet, here you were, complimenting an album you weren’t even sure you could name all the songs on. Thankfully, the sound of Olivia’s voice caught your attention, “Y/N!”

The two of you turned to see her approaching quickly. She was waving two samples of fabric in front of you, “Oh, hi, Harry. Good thing you’re here, actually. Which of these were you thinking of for his other suit?”

You took both from her, inspecting them closely. One was a brown and the other was a blue, slightly lighter than a navy. “Well, I thought both would work. I mean, it’s up to you, but I think the brown contrasts with Florence’s costume better,” you replied. “But then I’ve got this lovely tie set aside for the blue. So, really it’s your decision.”

She hummed, agreeing with what you said, “I see what you mean. We could always use the blue for a different scene?”

You shrugged, nodding, “Yeah, I mean, the brown will definitely work better with Florence’s costume for those couple of scenes we’re shooting in Palm Springs. But, like I said, the blue is very fifties.”

She smiled, “Brilliant. I’ll sort out the brown, then.”

Quickly, you said, “No, it’s okay. I’ll sort it out when I’m finished with Harry.”

She thanked you as she left. Harry couldn’t take his eyes off you as you worked away, your eyebrows furrowed slightly as you sorted the hem of his trousers. And, thank God for the mandatory masks, as he couldn’t help the smile that danced across his lips. Then, in no time at all, Harry was snapped out of his small trance at the sound of your voice, “Right, you’re good to go.”

“Cheers, Y/N,” he smiled slightly, watching as you walked off towards one of your assistants. Sighing softly to himself, he left to find Florence.

The two weeks the entire cast and crew had off due to somebody testing positive for covid was a lovely break for you. As well as constant fear that they’d just call Don’t Worry, Darling off completely and you’d be out of work again. And the relentless guilt you felt for having to stay at Florence’s for the two weeks with her boyfriend because you didn’t have your own house in America, and you couldn’t fly back and forth between England and America. And the nights where you cried into Florence’s arms as you missed your family from back home. And the nights where you couldn’t sleep because you began to overthink things like if you’d locked your front door or turned the oven off. But, other than that, it’d been a smooth run.

But now you were back and in Palm Springs. And the sun was out and you were longing for a cold shower. You found yourself stood in front of Harry once more, trying to decide which tie would work best with his brown suit. He’d followed you on Instagram since your first interaction since Dunkirk, which received an onslaught of ecstatic texts from Louisa. But that was as far as it had ever gone. None of your conversations progressed past his costumes or anything work-related. And, when you first turned up on set on the very first day of production, that was what you’d wanted. But now you had to surround yourself with him everyday, you longed for him to ask about something other than the job. You wanted to discuss favourite novels and guilty pleasures and pet peeves and bad habits and embarrassing childhood stories with him. All these little things you wanted him to know about you.

Your mind was wandering and it took you a moment to realise that you weren’t even thinking about which tie worked best anymore. Your head was full of swirling fantasies that you knew would never come to be.

Harry, however, didn’t notice your zoned out expression either. He was too busy trying to figure out whether you were single due to the shirt you were wearing, which hung much too large on your frame. And the feeling of knowing there was a possibility that you were living a happy life with somebody else was beginning to rip him up inside. He was trying to remember if you’d thanked a boyfriend in your acceptance speech at the Oscars, but that all seemed so long ago now - he couldn’t possibly remember. So, in spite of himself, he asked, “Missing your boyfriend, then?”

You looked up at him, your hands dropping down to your sides. “What?”

“Your boyfriend - are you missing him?” Harry repeated, a small smile on his face to make his tone sound slightly less bitter.

“Oh, I don’t have a boyfriend,” you replied, finally settling on a tie.

“You don’t? I just figured, you know, with the shirt...” he trailed off, prompting you to elaborate.

You chuckled awkwardly, “Right, of course. I only do it to make myself appear less single.”

He laughed, but it was mainly out of relief. It wasn’t like he’d forgotten about you from the set of his first movie, you just hadn’t been on his mind for the four years following. But then he’d turned up on the first day of filming, seen you laughing with Florence and Olivia, and everything just came rushing back to him. All of the pent up feelings and the nights pondering all of the what ifs and the maybes. “Well, you fooled me,” he smiled.

“Just my ingenious plans working, as usual,” you joked, earning a small laugh from Harry.

As you finished wrapping the tie around Harry’s shirt collar, you informed him you were finished. He thanked you and left to get his hair and makeup done. You practically jumped out of your skin at the sound of Florence’s voice behind you, “I’m pretty sure if he asks you about your love life, it means he likes you.”

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you exclaimed, hitting Flo’s shoulder with the tie you opted not to use.

She laughed loudly, “You know I’m right!”

“He’s just making small talk.”

“No, Y/N, small talk is how nice the weather is, not ‘oh, are you single?’”

“Okay, firstly, he didn’t say that. Secondly, it’s California - it’s always nice weather,” you retorted. As much as you fought back, you quite liked the idea that Florence thought Harry liked you.

“You know what I mean!” she replied, grinning her infamous broad, cheeky smile. “Don’t even try and act like you wouldn’t mind if he liked you!”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said sheepishly, a small smile gracing your features. As aforementioned - you were perhaps the worst actor to grace the planet.

“I knew it!” she grinned excitedly.

“Don’t you have hair to be done?” you chuckled, pushing her towards where she needed to go to get her hair styled for the shoot.

“This isn’t over, Y/N!” she called back as she slowly disappeared.

The following day, as you were patching up one of Chris Pine’s suits, Florence came and sat down opposite you. She had one of those devious smirks on her face and you knew that couldn’t mean anything good. You placed your needle down, staring expectantly at her. “How can I be of assistance?” you asked skeptically.

“Well, as your dear friend, I thought it was my duty to report back to you. So, I’d like to tell you that our good pal Harry was asking about you,” she grinned.

You sighed, “Was he? And what was he asking?”

“Something about if you have any allergies,” she replied.

“Wow,” you laughed, “must be hopelessly in love with me then.”

“No, listen. He asked about your allergies and then he asked what kind of food you liked. So, my guess is he’s going to ask you to dinner.”

“We’ll see,” you said, offering her a smile in the hopes that she’d just drop it.

“Indeed we will. I’ll see you in a bit, Y/N,” she grinned, pinching your cheeks as she got up. “Love you!”

You chuckled, “Love you too!”

And, just like that, you were left to your own devices. Though your flow had been disrupted, you got back to stitching up Chris’ suit, which had a minor tear in the lapel. Working on a film set, you were used to being interrupted; people would come and go, asking you all sorts of questions. You always found it pretty easy to get back into your rhythm. However, when Harry came and took the place of Florence, you were sure you wouldn’t be able to get back into your desired flow easily. “Oh, hey, Harry,” you greeted. “Are you okay?”

He nodded quickly. He wasn’t hiding his nervous shifting very well - despite how good of an actor he may be. He fiddled with his fingers, which lay in his lap. They were lacking the many, expensive-looking rings they usually adorned. He was out of costume, instead dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. His hair wasn’t slicked back and full of gel like it usually was on set. “Yeah, yeah. I’m okay,” he said, rather unconvincingly.

His eyes followed your fingers as they gripped the little needle, weaving it in and out of one of suit’s lapels. Another wave of awkwardness washed over the pair. But, for once, you didn’t feel uncomfortable. You weren’t the one who came over to start the conversation. “Are you busy tonight?” he suddenly asked, his voice almost shaky.

“Uh, no. Not if I can get this lapel finished,” you replied, your tone joking. Your eyes were still trained on your needle, but your mind was most definitely concentrating on every last syllable that fell from Harry’s lips.

He let out an awkward, breathy chuckle, “Right. Um, well, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to grab something to eat?”

You couldn’t help the tiny grin that pulled at the corner of your lips, “I’d love to.”

This was what you felt you’d been waiting for for a good four years. And, thank God, Florence had warned you that she suspected Harry was thinking of asking you out, otherwise you weren’t sure you’d be able to get out any comprehensible words. “Great,” he grinned, whatever nervousness that had been racing through his veins seemed to slowly drown away. “I’ll see you tonight, then. At 6?”

You nodded, overwhelmed with serotonin, trying to suppress the urge to let out a loud squeal. You knew you’d get back to Florence’s, share a glass of predate wine with her and dance about happily in her kitchen. All of these marvellous emotions swept through your body, which was abuzz with electric euphoria. And yet, all you replied was, with a small smile, “At 6.”

part two.

[timetravelinghydra]

TW: self-harm, blood loss

“Don’t ever say that name in front of me again, do you understand?” Aaron's face was red - the result of his anger.

Robert could only watch, searching Aaron’s eyes for an explanation to his outburst, too shocked to do anything else. He had learned to anticipate a lot of things with Aaron, but this reaction at hearing Gordon's name was not one of them.

As Robert looked on, Aaron’s expression changed to one of surprise. He then looked down at the floor and mumbled, “Forget about it,” before rushing upstairs to his room.

Robert was left stunned at the bottom of the staircase, as he listened to the slam of Aaron’s bedroom door. He considered chasing after him but nothing good ever came of it, so he resolved to enter the kitchen and have a cup of coffee while he mulled over the conversation.

Meanwhile, in his room, Aaron had locked the door to his bedroom and was frantically pacing and glancing about for something to calm him down. His eyes lit up as he remembered the razor blade he kept in his dresser. Pulling open the top drawer, he shoved the shirts that were in there aside and slowly picked up the blade. This’ll work just fine, he thought to himself.

After flipping the blade over a couple of times, briefly lost in his thoughts, Aaron sat down on the edge of his bed and pulled his left pant leg up. He looked at his leg and then the blade, considering if he really wanted to go through with cutting into his flesh once more. Deciding he did, he pressed the cold blade into his thigh.

Aaron hissed at the pain it brought, but it was a welcome pain; physical pain to distract from the mental pain of his memories. Warm blood ran down his leg but he was no longer looking, his attention instead directed at the ceiling. His mind was empty, no thoughts ran through it anymore. The energy he previously had was dissipating through the blood that was coming out of his growing wound. Aaron felt nothing.

Holding his leg down, he was slashing away at his it as if he was trying to destroy it - destroy the part of him related to Gordon.

By the time Aaron had stopped, he was lying back on his bed, too tired to hold himself up any longer. A while later, there was a knock on his door.

It was Robert’s voice. “Aaron, let's talk about this! Explain to me what I said wrong!” he yelled through the door. After thinking it over for an hour, Robert still couldn’t figure out why the name made Aaron so upset; the only way to find out was by asking Aaron himself.

Upon hearing the knock, Aaron sprung up like a jack-in-the-box toy. Too out of it to notice the pools of blood at his feet and on the bed, he pulled his pant leg down and began standing up, readying himself to open his bedroom door. No shortly had Aaron stood up, however, that he then collapsed to the floor with a grunt of pain. Adrenaline wasn’t going to be enough to get him to the door, not with the amount of blood he had lost.

"Aaron! Aaron!! What was that thump?! Are you alright?!" Robert tried opening the door as he shouted, then pounded on the door and jiggled the doorknob as he realized it was locked. Distress was beginning to mix with the concern in his voice. "Aaron!!"

Lying on the floor, Aaron could feel the onset of blood loss symptoms setting in, closing his eyes in response. After a few seconds, he opened them again.

“Aaron!!! Open the door!” Robert was still banging on the door, but Aaron was barely aware of it. The room was starting to spin and his breathing had increased. He tried to stand back up using his bed, but collapsed again. “Agh!” he exclaimed, flinching with the pain caused by both standing and falling.

“Aaron, what’s going on in there?! I can help if you let me in!” Robert was relentless. Aaron sounded like he was in pain and Robert wasn’t going to just leave him there like that.

Settling for crawling, Aaron weakly got on his hands and knees and slowly began moving towards the door again, his limbs shaking. Two steps later, his arms and legs gave out as he fainted.

Soon after, there was a loud slam as Robert managed to force the door open by throwing his weight against it enough times. He rushed in, looking around for Aaron. A glance towards the bed told him his initial intuition was right. Another glance in front of the bed told him where Aaron was.

“No, no, no, no!” he said, as he raced to Aaron’s side. He felt for a pulse in his wrist, only to discover it was weak. Robert then gently rolled Aaron onto his back and began looking for injuries. It didn’t take long before he spotted his left pant leg, covered in blood.

“Aaron, what did you do?” Robert whispered.

He rolled the pant leg up and saw the jagged, crisscrossing wounds in Aaron’s leg, still pushing out blood. In a state of panic, Robert took off his shirt and used one hand to apply pressure and another to call for an ambulance.

“I’m here Aaron, I’m here! Everything will be okay!” he said to Aaron, although he was more trying to reassure himself. He wasn’t completely sure what had happened here, but his suspicions told him this wouldn’t stop until Gordon was gone.

[i-know-what-yall-want]

Hai, I saw you have your requests open. And I wanted to ask for the naughty naughty. Smut yea😌, dominant reader X Lucifer👉👈

Oh my gods yes. Here we go: NSFW, Dom!MC, Sub!Lucifer, Bondage, Pegging, After care, BDSM, Degradation I really just want to break down his pride so I didn’t add praise.

You and Lucifer started dating a while back. He, slowly but surely, had begun showing you his more submissive side. You never pointed it out, worried he'd be discouraged, but did enjoy it. Eventually, one day, he had worked up the courage to show you his... play room. “This is what I wanted to show you…”

“And this is what you were so nervous about?” You walked over to him, and pulled him closely by his waist.

Lucifer widened his eyes, shocked by you taking the lead, though he didn’t mind it. “Yes, I...wanted you to use these toys on me.”

You were quite shocked, he finally admitted it. Regaining your composure, you smirked. “Lucifer, you’ve got to say just exactly what you want me to do.” He blushed, looking away, now silent from embarrassment. He always did this, giving you the silent treatment when you dared tease him. You chuckle and let go of him, “Well if you don’t answer, I might leave you with that problem between your legs.” You smirk at him, your eyes wandering down to his crotch, looking at his hardened member.

He hesitates a moment more, before finally relenting. “P-please tie me up and fuck me on that bed until I beg for you to stop…”

You chuckle and smile at him, “I didn’t need you to go that far. Get yourself ready, slut.” You left to get ready, enjoying how red he became from you telling him about how he was too lewd.

You return, seeing Lucifer nude on the bed. You eye him, looking at the crop he left for you on the bed and the handcuffs that were fastened to the metal headboard, waiting for you to fasten his wrists into them. The blindfold on him was messily tied on, already falling off a bit. You then allow your eyes to drift down to his crotch, growing more turned on than you already were. There he was, jacking off with one hand and doing a messy job fingering his puckered little hole with the other, no wonder he didn’t try to fix the blindfold, he grew impatient. Well that’s no good, looks like you’ll have to teach him to be patient.

You walk over, noticing he doesn’t stop jacking off and fingering himself. You reach over and kneel over him, beginning to fix the blindfold. Lucifer groaned once the blindfold was on properly, one sense being taken away heightening his others. “Lucifer, you need to learn that you’re only allowed to do things with my permission.”

He began to whine, the brat, “But you were taking so loooong.”

“I don’t care, unless you’re nothing more than a meaningless whore who can’t have the decency to wait for his owner.”

He whimpered, but never stopped, he couldn’t, he was soooo close, and you both knew it. You smirk and grab a wrist, bringing it up to the cuff that he prepared and cuff him to the bed before doing the other hand. Lucifer whined more and more, “No!”

“You need to be taught a lesson sweetie.” You grabbed the crop, teasing a nipple with it before hitting both of them, alternating between the two, relishing in Lucifer’s sweet moans and the way he arched his back while gripping onto the cuffs.

“Please, please, please just hurry up and fuck me!”

You chuckle and place the crop under his chin, loving the way he shuddered. “Do you think you deserve me to fuck you? Really?”

The demon hesitated, too prideful to say the right answer but also knowing that he’d be denied even longer. “I...I do deserve to be fucked by you!”

You chuckle lowly and touch his throbbing cock with the crop, running it on the underside of it. “Wrong answer, and you won’t get what you want until you admit you don’t deserve it.” So there you go, continuing to break him and deny him what he truly craves.

It took you teasing him all over with a vibrator except his cock. “Fine! Please! Just fuck me! I don’t deserve it but please, I need it!”

You smile and turn off the vibrator. You first pour some lube on him and then your fingers, beginning to prepare him. He groans, wishing you’d just start pounding into him already.

After you’ve fingered him enough, you position yourself in line with his hole and give him what he wants. You growl and rib the blindfold, looking at his eyes, seeing them lust filled and teary, he was broken into pieces and he loved it. You begin stroking him, continuing to pound into him, going at a relentless pace. Lucifer let’s out a yell and cums in unison with you, both of you going over the edge.

You both pant, only now realizing that you gripped onto his hip with the hand that wasn’t busy stroking him. You let go and pull out of him before uncuffing him and picking him up. You walk over to the bathroom, running a bath and wiping him down. You carry him back to the bed and cuddle him, both of you eventually falling asleep.

[in-my-otter-world]

MC Intro: Chan

Enjoy a half-finished sketch of Chan I did while figuring out how Krita worked again ( ´ ▽ ` )

Info below the read more (Template by fandom-scatteredthoughtsonpaper)

Personal - Basics

[Name]

Chan

[Race/Species]

Demon []

Angel []

Human [X]

Other: []

[Age]

24

[Birthday]

March 31

[Height]

5'8

[Fingernail Polish Color(s)]

Navy blue (or whatever color Asmo wants them to try)

[Hair color/description]

Naturally brown hair, but once they learn glamour magic, they change hair style and color on a whim (sticks with the length shown in the drawing most often)

Personal - In-depth

[Gender or no | Pronoun(s)]

They/them

[Sexual/Romantic Orientation or lack thereof]

It's up in the air (they never thought too deep into it)

[Occupation Before Devildom Life]

Book store manager and barista

[Favorite Color(s)]

Dark colors and Pastels

[Personality]

MBTI:

INFP

Ennagram:

9

Zodiac:

Western- Aries, Eastern- Tiger

Personal - Other

[Likes]

Cooking

Spending quality time with friends

Learning new skills/facts

[Dislikes]

Being confined/controlled

Horror games/movies

Repetition

[Positive Traits]

Jack-of-all-trades

Positive

Relentless

[Negative Traits]

Self-proclaimed coward

Stubborn

Neglectful of self

Relationships

• Fears | Dislikes | Acquaintances | Friends | Close Friends | Crush | Loves | Indifferent | Tolerates | Respects | Suspicious

[With Demons]

Lucifer - Tolerates (lowkey respects/friends)

Very much disliked each other in the beginning, now the tired parents of the rest of them

Mammon - Close Friends

Same ADHD braincell, they have a lot of similar hobbies and habits

Leviathan - Close Friends

Gamers, though they're not nearly as into anime as he is, they like listening to him get excited over things he enjoys

Satan - Close Friends

Frequently grill each other on their home worlds/books/pretty much anything, both passionate about learning things

Asmodeus - Close Friends/Crush

Initially wary of him, but once they set their boundaries with each other, they became crazy close. Chan doesn't know if they have a crush or are just really happy they have a best friend (it's both)

Beelzebub - Close Friends

Beel helped them learn Devildom foods, and in exchange, he got to try their attempts at Devildom dishes, they've been inseparable since

Belphegor - Suspicious -> Fears -> Close Friends

After lesson 16, they had a hard time opening up to him, but as the months went on they slowly let their guard down. After making a pact with him, they began to trust him again

Diavolo - Respects -> Friends

Initially intimidated by his stature and status, they quickly realized he was just as eager to learn about them and the human realm as they were to the Devildom

Barbatos - Respects

They are very much two people that get their separate tasks done in the same room and call it a good time, occasionally they chat about tea and coffee (they get into lighthearted debates on which is better)

Mephistopheles - Dislikes (lowkey tolerates)

They've never felt such disdain for another living being before, but their interactions went from antagonistic to playful teasing before either realized (still act like they hate each other though)

[With Angels]

Simeon - Good Friends

Writing buddies, often proofread each other's works and bounce ideas off each other, they both find solace in how relaxing time spent together is

Luke - Friends

Initially very awkward around each other (Chan's just awkward around kids), but being the youngest pair of the main group has a funny way of bringing them closer, stick up for each other and use their "I'm baby" perks frequently

Raphael - Acquaintances

They don't know too much about each other just yet, but they do enjoy some rare moments of peace together

Michael - Suspicious

They've heard many mixed reviews on him, so they're taking any interaction with him with the whole salt shaker

[With Humans]

Solomon - Close Friends/Crush

Immediate bond over finding another human, they both very much enjoy confusing and concerning the others with their very human interactions, mutual crushes but neither feel like they're ready to take the next step (Asmo is screaming)

[With Reapers]

Thirteen - Acquaintances

They are very curious about her (and reapers in general), and she's curious about them (what the hell is this human?), spend a lot of time observing each other

Favorite Things About the Devildom

[Favorite Job(s)]

Royal Library (familiar with the work involved)

Hocus Pocus (curious about magic and magic items)

[Favorite Place(s) to Hang at]

Hell's Kitchen

The Royal Library

RAD

[Favorite Food(s)]

Curry (all kinds)

[Favorite Class Subject(s)] {You can check out this awesome list by @hyper-super-clover for ideas or be creative}

Devildom Botany (loves plants)

Demon Language (loves learning languages)

Music and Theater (wants to compare Human and Devildom)

[Favorite Devildom Version of Something from the Human World - Be Creative!]

Just about everything (always looking for something new to learn and Boy did they find it)

Least Favorite Things About the Devildom

[Least Favorite Job(s)]

The Fall (too many bright lights and too much noise for a whole shift)

The Mausoleum (scared of ghosts)

[Least Favorite Places to Go]

The Mausoleum (see above)

Ristorante Six (too fancy)

[Least Favorite Foods]

Raw tomatoes (texture)

Quetzalcoatl Brains (just hearing it makes their skin crawl)

[Disliked Class Subject(s)] {You can check out this awesome list by @hyper-super-clover for ideas or be creative}

Devildom Law

Devildom History

[Stuff that Can be Considered a Negative About the Devildom]

Random acts of violence among lesser demons (and sometimes the brothers as well

Personality Chart

[out-of-jams]

Across the Board || i || kth

(banner done by the great @kimtaehyunq )

↠ Across the Board ↞ You’d hit a low point in life. With bills piling up and your bank account empty, you were starting to get desperate. So when you got the invite to your oldest friend’s birthday party being hosted at the most popular underground casino in town, what did you possibly have to lose? You took what little you had left in your savings, put your card skills to use, and entered a private blackjack game.

And you’d won. And went back for more, and more, and more.

Until you lost.

And now you’re indebted to the city’s most dangerous mob boss, forced to pay your dues in blood one way or another. With a gun pushed into your hands and your life at stake; once you’re in, you’re in. You’ll never get out.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings/Genre: Set in the Roaring 20s! Gambling. Mature themes. Mafia!au. Mafia Don!Taehyung. Violence. Law breaking. Alcohol use. Death of minor characters. Explicit language. Enemies to lovers. Short series. 18+

                              || Next | Masterlist | |

Danger.

It was a word right up there alongside the definition for the term “stupidity.” While not next to each other in the dictionary, they were close enough that your brain was unable to pick out the subtle differences. Perhaps you’d just always had a habit for screwing your life up, or maybe it was just genetics. Who knew?

You should have listened to the warnings, should have stopped yourself before you got in too deep. Hell, you should have done a lot of things. But you had no one to blame for your current situation except for yourself. However, if you’d learned anything throughout your twenty-two short years of life, it was that life lessons didn’t mean jack if you didn’t get yourself into messes into the first place.

Though staring down the barrel of a revolver sure was a funny way of going about it.

The air in the dimly lit back corner room was tense enough to hear the sound of a casino chip fall to the ground somewhere beyond the shut door. None of the six men sitting around the round, green felted table spoke a word. Their attention — and yours, consequently — was fixed on the single man in the room who barely even batted an eye at the clear panic evident on your face.

He sat on the opposite side of you; the scowl pulling down his bow shaped lips and the narrowing of his fierce gaze had fear chilling your veins. That man was much like an exotic animal; beautiful beyond belief, but dangerous right beneath the surface. A carnivore staring down his prey. The single light above the table threw his shadow against the wall as he casually aimed his pistol right between your eyes.

“You were saying, dollface?”

His neatly parted, straight black hair fell across his face when he leaned forward as if the next words out of your mouth would seal your fate. Not that the thought of having to have your blood cleaned from the expensive carpet beneath his expensive shoes seemed to bother him in the slightest. In fact, he’d look almost bored if it weren’t for the dangerous gleam behind his espresso irises.

“I—” You cut yourself off, swallowing roughly and glancing back down at the table. A depleted deck of cards sat in the center, two hands laid out on the surface. One was yours — a ten of diamonds and a ten of clubs — and the other his. A red ace of spades and a black jack of hearts.

You were out of money.

Having bet more than you possessed, you were also out of chances.

“It’s simple. You owe me money as promised,” his deep, baritone voice spoke up casually over the noise of your heart beating through your chest. “Either hand it over, or you won’t be leaving this room alive. Your choice.”

You closed your eyes for a moment too long to be called a blink, and cursed yourself for ever getting into this situation.

                           One Month Ago

Final Notice of Payment

Ms. L/n,

This is a reminder that you have a balance of $20.54 that is past due. Please make a one time payment no later than—

“Oh, please.” The bill enclosed envelope hit the top of the small, circular dining room table. Or was it the kitchen table? It was hard to tell, seeing as how they were one and the same.

A sigh escaped your lips as you leaned back against the creaky wooden chair, fingers massaging your temples. That was the third bill you’d come across that morning and every single one of them was the final notice of payment. The last warning they’d give before sending someone to collect what was owed.

It hadn’t always been like that. You hadn’t always been in such an insurmountable amount of debt, not until recently. Two months ago your mother, the last bit of family you had left, died. Passed away clinging to the sheets of the hospital bed she’d been laid up in for the past half a year. Cancer, the doctors had said. From all of the cigarettes she’d burned through in the past decade or so.

Irrecoverable, they’d said.

No amount of “sorry’s” or meaningless condolences could fix the massive amount of money that the hospital billed you. Or the debt that your mother left behind, along with her slim-boned corpse that you’d had to bury in the corner of the city cemetery. Perhaps if you’d known who your father was, you could’ve laid her to rest in the space next to his own, but you didn’t. Weren’t fortunate enough to.

Bills had piled up. Rent for the tiny studio apartment the two of you had shared was demanded by the pigeon-toed old woman who owned the rundown, overpriced building. Her husband had passed away two years ago and ever since then, she’d been relentless. She pounded on your door at approximately eight in the morning everyday, shouting through the thin wood that you had until the week was up to pay what was owed. Otherwise you’d be tossed out onto the street with only the clothes on your back.

Combined with the utility bill and the fact that you still had to come up with the dough to feed yourself, you were trapped. The meagre pennies you got from your waitressing job at the diner three blocks away weren’t nearly enough. Nothing would be enough. Not unless you wanted to sell your body on the street corners in the late of night.

Which you didn’t. And you wouldn’t. You’d be more likely to end up dead in a ditch somewhere with your throat cut than out of debt. The city wasn’t safe for women, less so by those men who saw prostitutes as no more than an object to relieve stress onto. And you refused to become another headline in the paper.

Tossing the opened envelope across the table, you paused when familiar handwriting caught your eye on top of the rest of the mail pile. Addressed to you in a curling script that only ever came from someone who could afford a private tutor. You sighed, carefully sliding a knife along the top to slice it open. A waft of sweet, cherry scented perfume filled your tiny kitchen and you almost rolled your eyes at the unnecessary addition.

Jennie, your oldest friend since high school, always had an inclination for the unnecessary. Born with a silver spoon in her mouth and a gold digger for a mother, she’d had nothing else to waste her time on. How you’d even gotten on as friends with such a gap between tax brackets was still a mystery to you. Maybe it was because she’d always used her wealth and status to get the two of you out of trouble. Whether it was from breaking into the school late at night to get wasted in the halls with the rest of her friends, or to get away with slipping things from the corner store into your dress pockets.

She’d always been a rule breaker.

Which was exactly why when you read the contents of the letter, a laugh tumbled from your mouth. It was an invitation to celebrate her upcoming twenty-third birthday in three day’s time. That wouldn’t have been anything out of the ordinary, however, if it weren’t for the location. There wasn’t an exact address, there never was. Just a thin piece of cardboard the size of your hand that fell from the envelope. A playing card — a red ace. One that looked normal except for the center that had the name of a restaurant in the heart of the most rich part of downtown printed on it.

It was a ticket to the most popular underground casino in the whole city. No one knew how to get one, how to get your name onto the list that only catered to the rich and powerful. Located beneath a restaurant, it had grown to be infamous almost overnight since gambling and alcohol was outlawed. Even the coppers knew well enough to leave the establishment alone.

The only way to gain entrance was by flashing a ticket to one of the restaurant staff. That was what you’d heard, at least. You had no idea how May had managed to secure one, let alone enough to cover what you knew would be a large party of her closest friends.

Flicking the corner of the card, you couldn’t believe your luck.

Your mother hadn’t taught you very many things, had been too busy gossiping with her friends over a carton of cigarettes to bother. What she had passed down, however, was her ability to draw cards. To play blackjack with the best of them. That’d been the only thing she’d ever bothered to teach you; when she’d had too many sips of wine and her eyes had glazed over with memories of the life she used to live. 

She’d sit you down and make you memorize the names and faces of the cards until you could count them forward and backwards. Could predict what card would be drawn and when. Where she’d learned it, she’d never told you. But that didn’t matter now. Couldn’t, seeing as she was dead and all.

Grinning, you flopped back into your chair.

Maybe you’d be able to pay off your debts after all.

And you had. Paid off your debt, that is.

After clearing out your savings account of the last fifteen dollars you had left to your name, you’d dolled yourself up and gone with Jennie and her friends. Had left the group of flappers tittering and groaning drunk at the line of slot machines at the back of the casino. Calls of bets being placed, dough exchanging for chips, and illegal cocktails pouring into glasses played as a soundtrack.

None of the card tables scattered across the underground establishment held what you’d been looking for. Neither roulette, nor craps, nor slots. The bartender had been the one to tell you where the real games were, where the cash was. A door down a tiny back hallway led to a room where private games were held. If you managed to win at one, he’d told you, then you’d win not only the pot, but an invitation to come back and play again.

Which had been an opportunity that you just couldn’t pass up. No matter the risk.

You’d won.

And now you were addicted.

To the money, the lifestyle, the adrenaline that shot through your veins like a particularly harsh sip of gin. Which was exactly why you’d gone back. Again, and again, and again, every single week for the past month. It wasn’t your fault that it was so easy. So simple to swindle your way into getting your name permanently written down on the entry list.

Oh, and the men.

It was a different group every week, but they weren’t all that dissimilar from one another. They’d sit there and smoke their cigars and drink their whiskey, all while silently mocking you with their eyes. Like they thought they were better than you just because they had a dick between their legs.

You were addicted to that too.

To watching the way their faces would fall in disbelief every single time you cleared the pot and took their money. And how their voices would raise in pitch with their countless complaints about how some lowly broad conned them out of their pocket change. Because that’s all that money was to people like them.

Change.

They were rich. You could tell by the custom suits they wore, the cologne they bathed in, the way they carried themselves. The money they gambled with always had a cap, a max amount that they were willing to bet. And the games never got too crazy, didn’t escalate once they lost to you. Which was a shame really, because you wanted more. Craved more. More of what, you weren’t too sure, but the high that playing brought only lasted so long until you came crashing back down.

Which was exactly when fate decided to change the routine.

“Here to play again, miss?” Felix, the same teenage boy who always manned the door to the gambling room, asked with a slight tilt of his head. His light brunette hair was tucked beneath a bowler hat, different from the usual fedora. Back to the door, he was standing up straight instead of his normal slouch. And the way his mouth was taught around the edges was out of the ordinary as well.

The boy didn’t have a cigarette clenched between his teeth, which should have been enough to set off the bells in your head. But it didn’t. Because you were too bullheaded, had gotten too cocky in the terms of things.

“You know me too well, Felix.” You reached out a hand to pat the lanky boy on his suit clad arm lightly, a smile pulling up at your red painted lips. “Is the usual table ready?”

The volume in the casino wasn’t as loud either, nor were there quite as many patrons. But you’d just chalked that up to the heavy rain pounding a path into the concrete outside. Though the lack of customers did nothing to eliminate the permanent smell of cigarette smoke that lingered, hidden in the walls beneath the fancy looking wallpaper.

“I don’t know if you want to play today, miss.” Felix glanced away from you with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. You blamed the flickering light in the corner of the hall for the way his freckles stood out amongst his slowly paling cheeks.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

He didn’t answer. Not at first. Silence lingered in the hall, drowning in the soft jazz music coming from the band on the stage near the back of the joint. It took the raising of your other brow for the underaged boy to finally answer.

“It’s just not a good day for gambling.”

Now that had you leaning forward until you could finally catch his flighty gaze, voice hushed in a playful whisper. “Oh really, how so? Is there a stool-pigeon running about somewhere? Should we be expecting the coppers to come kicking down the door any minute?”

“No. I—”

“Then why can’t I play, Felix?” You were starting to get irritated. The week had been long and you were ready to forget about it all for the next few hours. Buried beneath the weight of a handful of cards and glass full of gin.

Either Felix could see your growing impatience, or there really was something he was hiding, because he stepped even further in front of the door. “You don’t want to play with this group, miss. They aren’t as welcoming as the others are. It’d be best if you just went home.”

“You ca—”

“And what’s going on back here?” That wasn’t Felix’s voice and neither was it yours. You whipped around, surprised at the new addition.

The man behind you had honey brown hair parted and styled carefully until it was brushed back away from his heart-shaped face. Though some of it still hung in front of a single, dark eye. His other was uncovered, a scar running through his eyebrow and cutting it in half. Everything about him was angular, sharp. From his jawline to the slope of his nose and the corners of his full lips.

One look and you already pegged him for a cake-eater, a ladies man, if you’d ever seen one. Hell, he even dressed like he came right off the front cover of one of those Time magazines that littered the newspaper stands on every street corner. With a navy blue suit and perfect, unscuffed shoes.

“No, sir,” Felix attempted to pull the man’s attention from you unsuccessfully. “The missus here was just leaving.”

The Stranger hummed, tilting his head to study you with those sharp eyes of his. “Were you, bunny? Just leaving?”

You couldn’t help the twitch of your nose at the unfavorable nickname, squaring your shoulders and crossing your arms with a scoff. “No, I wasn’t. I want to play a few rounds, you see, but he won’t let me.”

Perhaps you should have felt bad for ratting out the kid, but you didn’t. Especially not when the Stranger huffed a laugh, a distinct ha-ha-ha! in amusement. Though there was something else in his eyes that you couldn’t name. Didn’t want to acknowledge. “You want to play a hand of blackjack, is that right?”

“Ab-so-lute-ly.” You raised an eyebrow at the man and waved a hand through the air. “I can play.”

“Oh,” He asked, taking a step closer until you had to crane your neck back to meet his imploring gaze. “Playing isn’t cheap.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I can pay too.”

He must have been waiting for that answer if the smirk that pulled at his lips was any indication. And he finally, finally broke eye contact to wave aside the boy behind you. “Well, did the dame make herself clear or not? She wants to play.”

You happened to turn just in time to catch the alarm that flickered across Felix’s face as he stepped to the side to reveal the door behind him. Felix reached out with a ringed hand to twist the brass knob of the door. It swung open without a sound and he gave you a quick, wide-eyed stare filled with a warning you couldn’t interpret, before looking away.

“Well?” The Stranger questioned from over your shoulder. You could smell his cologne now; husky with a hint of sweet orange.

His words were an invitation if you’d ever heard one. And you didn’t want to look like a bluenose, a prude, so you stepped inside without hesitation. Though perhaps you should have taken Felix’s unspoken warning, for you had no idea just what it was that you were walking into.

Inside the cramped room was filled with a haze of cigar smoke, which wasn’t unusual at all. What was, however, was the group of six men sitting at the circular table as you rounded the corner with the Stranger at your back. They were beautiful, all of them. A huge contrast to the usual rabble that came to play. Hell, even underneath the dim light you couldn't spot a single flaw on them.

No one noticed your entrance at first.  

Well, at least not until the Stranger cleared his throat. “Gentleman.”

His greeting sounded like it toed somewhere on the line between amusement and respect.

All movement in the room came to a halt as six men looked up from where they’d been bent over the blackjack table. If you’d been a little less prideful and a lot more careful, then perhaps the overbearing confidence that bled from their pores would have given you pause. But as it was, you stood standing, back straight and head held high. Even while their eyes roamed your figure like tigers behind a cage at the zoo right before feeding time.

A pause hovered in the air, lingering with a tension that crawled onto your skin. What seemed like hours passed merely in seconds before it was broken.

“And who’s this?” The question came from the fella who sat in the chair closest to where you stood. He was turned around with his arm propped up on the back of it, head tilted to the side in curiosity. His hair was styled similar to the Stranger’s, though his was darker and the gel pushed through the strands made it gleam silver beneath the dim lamp that hung above the table.

High cheekbones and skin the same color as molten honey, his jaw worked around a piece of gum stuck between his teeth. A smirk pulled up at the corner of his mouth, dark eyes glittering with a touch of interest. With a black and white suit that complimented the shade of his hair, the man was nothing if not a billboard: flashy. Handsome.

“I found bunny here outside arguing with Felix. Something about wanting to play a few rounds of blackjack. Isn’t that right?” The Stranger placed a heavy palm between your shoulder blades. What might have been intended to come off as comforting, only succeeded in making you feel the opposite. Like you were being put on display.

You didn’t let it show on your face. “That’s right.”

“Oh?” Gum Chewer’s smirk grew broader at that, but he said nothing else. Just leaned back in his chair.

“What do you say, should we let her play?” Blond hair, pink kissable lips and dangerous, dangerous eyes. The slim man sitting next to Gum Chewer was attractive in a pretty way that made you envious of his easy-on-the-eyes looks.

While the question may have been asked to the whole room, none of them answered it. Instead they looked towards one of the men sitting in the middle who had yet to speak. If you’d thought the rest of them were a sight for sore eyes, well, they had nothing on him. How your attention hadn’t been drawn to him the moment you walked through the door, you didn’t know.

He wasn’t even looking at you and you already felt tongue-tied. Busying himself with shuffling the cards in his hands against the green felt table, the expensive looking rings adorning his slender fingers caught your eye. He was what your mother would’ve called a timeless beauty. The type of handsome that meant he could walk the streets of the city in nothing but a sack and he’d have women throwing themselves at his feet.

Hair the same shade as a moonless sky made him look intimidating, like he belonged to the shadows themselves. A straight nose, cupid bow lips and long eyelashes that would make any broad jealous; he gave off the type of power that could make even the bravest of men cower at his feet. The longer he took to respond, the more the room grew still. As if your fate was in the hands of a man who’s name you didn’t even know.

Though perhaps it was.

A muffled thud echoed throughout the room as he tapped the deck of cards against the table once, twice, before sliding them over to the fella to his left. Plucking up the glass of scotch in front of him, he finally looked up. And graced you with the prettiest chocolate brown eyes you’d ever seen.

“What’s your name, dollface?”

tagged: @bewitch-me​  @jxngkooksthxghs​   @kaitswrld​  @clarissalance​  @namurkive​ @ifntelyinspirit​  @kotaevln​  @red--aren  @ggukkieland​  @moonlitmyg​  @i-like-puppy-mg​  @aianloveseven​  @drumsofheaven​  @figurativehoe00​ @wonhoandonly​ @wacdon​ @hear-me-growl​ @milaridez7 @1088x1088​ @alana-ba​ @vlntaeg​

[echo-of-sounds]

smut alphabet - hound dog

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

You’ll have to be patient with Ryo. Aftercare has never been his strong suit. Take some time and explain what you need after sex, especially since he goes so rough. Bite marks and scratches are going to need attention. Aches and pains require ibuprofen and heat. Soon he’ll be leaving a bottle of water and pain medication on the bedside table for easy access. He’ll get a rice heating pad and a cozy blanket for you to relax and snuggle under, watching TV till you conk out after the exercise you just went through.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his arms and abs. The muscles are well defined and move beautifully under your fingers. Not to mention how thick his biceps are. They’re there for you to cling tight to: during sex, going for a walk, or when you’re just watching a scary movie.

He’s an ass man, through and through. And that includes the entire area surrounding it: hips, thighs, and sides. If you’re chubby, he just loves it so much more. He licks and claws and grips and bites till you’re raw. When he’s thrusting hard and fast, seeing your tummy and thighs bounce is such a turn on.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It’s thick and bitter. He knows it’s not a tasty treat but fuck does he love seeing it in your mouth, dripping onto your tongue, down your chin. He wants the smell to sink in and mark you for hours.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

One time he howled during an orgasm. It was as humiliating as it could possibly get. At least it was a one night stand so he never had to look them in the eyes again. Since then, he checks himself, making sure it will never happen again.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Relationships haven’t been on his radar. One night stands have been. He knows what he’s doing to thoroughly pleasure you. It’s the softer stuff he lacks experience with. Pain, spanking, choking, whathaveyou, isn’t always everyone's forte. Talk about intimate positions, slow fingering, and gentle caressing. He’s a good learner so he’ll pick it up quickly. Just give him instructions and time.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any doggy style position. He likes to hold your arms, preventing you from touching yourself. It’s rough and near feral as he’s rutting you, cumming deep with bestial growls and a carnal grip. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

If you have the energy to crack a joke between his thrusts, go ahead. But don’t expect him to laugh or make one back. He has a different focus that requires his complete attention.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Not groomed… at all. It’s dark brown, nearly black, and thick. He’s never had a reason to trim up. If all the hair bothers you or you just want to see what he looks like with a nice trim, he’ll do it for you. Don’t expect him to keep doing it though. His hair grows fast and he can’t be bothered to keep up with it.

His happy trail is very prominent as well. It’s a nice sight when he walks around shirtless. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Romance is another thing he needs to learn. A candlelit dinner or a warm bubble bath hasn’t ever appealed to him. Though, once in a relationship, he will spend some time reading about what he could do better. He wants to please his partner, make sure they feel important and loved, and he’s always willing to learn new tricks.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Ryo humps pillows and uses fleshlights. He loves the movement in his hips and thighs and the gathering, dripping stickiness. He closes his eyes, rutting into a pillow, picturing he’s fucking your throat, hearing your strangled gasps as his balls slap your face, 

He doesn’t need porn most of the time. Going to a website, searching for a video he actually likes, then finally starting is such a waste of time. He just wants to jack off, quick and unbothered.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Sir, Daddy, Master- it doesn’t matter what you want to call him, but he will be the dominant one. Hearing you ask for help, whining Daddy while rubbing your legs together turns him on unlike nothing else can. He also likes feeling your body, trusting in him as your Daddy to protect and take care of you.

Sit on his lap and warm his cock for hours. It doesn’t lead to sex all the time. He just enjoys feeling your warmth and having you so close and connected to him. You can totally fall asleep with him inside, comforted by his presence, or watch TV while nursing on his cock.

Is foreskin play a kink? Because he loves it. Whenever you’re cock warming with your mouth, slip your tongue into his foreskin while he’s soft, circle his head, suck it, whatever. He doesn’t know what it is but he loves it.

He wouldn’t even consider it until you’re wearing one but seeing a cute pink collar around your neck stirs something in him. He doesn’t care much about lingerie. It’s just the collar that excites him- whether it’s a high choker, a collar with a bell or bow, or a simple lace one. If it’s pink, it’s better. If there’s a leash he can tug and control you with, it’s the best.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Really anywhere he can bend you over is fine in his eyes. He isn’t picky.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Ryo’s kind of an angry guy. When he starts a sexual relationship, those emotions get funneled into you. 

Ask to sit on his lap. It either means you want him in you or you want to slowly work him up. Whisper ‘I want you, Daddy’ or ‘Daddy, I need your help’ and his hand slides into your pants, willing to do whatever to help his baby out. Make sure you always say thank you though. Or else he’ll punish you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

While he enjoys biting and scratching, he doesn’t want to see, smell, or taste blood. He’d never want to permanently mark or scar you in any way. And blood reminds him of fighting villains, dirty, disgusting people. If he bit you and tasted metal, flashes of battles and bruises would rush through his head. He might need a minute or so to cool down or would want to stop entirely before the flashback becomes too much.

This doesn’t have a lot to do with sex but he doesn’t want to be called a ‘good boy.’ He may have a canine-like appearance and some behavior. But he is not a dog. Don’t treat him like one.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s constantly after your taste and smell. He wants to bury his nose in you and his tongue can reach nice and deep. But, like Gang Orca, he doesn’t have human lips and his teeth can be dangerous. They hinder the level of pleasure he can give. If one of those canines catch your skin just right, it’ll seriously hurt. To prevent any pain, he focuses on lapping your clit while fingering you. That’s something he’s more proficient at and it’s kind of required with his size.

His favorite way to lick you is to bend you over the table or to push your chest to the bed, perfectly presenting your ass for him. His fingers spread you open and his tongue will go everywhere.

Like everyone, he enjoys a good blowjob or handjob. He’d never deny one. He likes feeling your teeth graze along him. And like mentioned in the kink section, bite, suck, and play with his foreskin as you blow him. But he does prefer penetrative sex over receiving oral. He just wants to get into you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Carnal, vulgar, like wildfire, relentless, the adjectives could go on. Most of the time, you’ll be a little sore, at least. 

Like with aftercare and intimacy, sensuality never really occurs to him. Few people want hardcore, pounding-till-you’re-raw-and-sore sex every single time. It’s nice to slow down, relax, feel each other’s naked, warm bodies, and lazily move together as one. 

The more you have slower sex, the more he will want it. He realizes how enjoyable and affectionate it can be. Plus, intimacy isn’t something he’s experienced a lot of so getting to experience it with you is lovely.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

All the time. It probably happens more than ‘regular’ sex. You’ll get bent over, pulled into his lap, or dragged to the bed for a quickie. Creating an atmosphere is time-consuming. He’s just horny and wants to get right into you it as soon as possible.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Risks haven’t been a big part of his life. Getting caught doing anything sexual could ruin his career as a counselor and a Pro Hero. Though the idea of you snaking your hand into his lap, silently unzipping his pants, and lazily pumping him under a table at a restaurant is kind of arousing- the adrenal, the completely unaware people around you, your attempts to remain quiet. It’s the thought of doing something you shouldn’t that really gets him going. But he won’t actually do it. He can’t risk his career like that.

Experiments are a way to fuel the adrenal. He’ll buy toys, tie you up, or blindfold you. Whatever you want to try, he’ll try it, especially if it gives him more control over you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He’ll go and go and go until you tap out. He has good control over himself and how long he can last. It can be forty-five minutes of him rutting you until he’s close to finishing. Sometimes, one round can last for upwards of an hour. And he’s usually able to go for two but that depends on how you feel. He knows it’s hard, maybe even painful, to keep going when you’re spent.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Ryo’s had to buy so many damn fleshlights. They get taped down and repeatedly fucked. He tries not to be so hard and take care of them but they somehow always end up broken.

On behalf of his partner, he will begin to buy some toys. It depends on your tastes and what he wants to see you in. He’ll spend days scouring websites, looking for the perfect panties, vibrator, and collar for you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’ll slick himself along your entrance, thrust until you’re right there, command you to stay put until he says you can move. It's so much you’re nearly crying, sensitive, overstimulated, sweaty, stuck under him for an hour before he finally grants you permission to come.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He isn’t loud and doesn’t really groan. They sound more like grunts and deep, gruff growls that rumble his lower abdomen.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Smells affect him, like a lot. It’s great when he’s a fan of the scent; vanilla, salty, beach air, you. But when he isn’t, he may sneeze, get agitated, or not even be able to be around whatever the source is. He might come across as blunt or too demanding when telling you you need new perfume. He doesn’t mean to be. It’s just hard for him to be around any intense, artificial, or chemical smells.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

No, it isn’t a red rocket. Sorry if you’re a monster fucker or into werewolves. Ryo’s anatomy is more humanoid than canine so it stands to reason his penis follows that. But even though it is humanoid, his head is more pointy than your average human’s. And the base thickens and swells a bit when he comes. He likes staying inside you after, feeling himself empty out and throb inside.

He’s a quarter-inch short of 8 inches.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s pretty high. He often channels his frustration into training or sex. Once in a relationship, you’ll be one of his go-tos when he needs a release. Some weeks he wants you five or six times. It’s definitely enough to make you sore and ask for a few days off.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

From his years of working as a Hero, his stamina is relatively high. He’s able to exert a fair bit of energy and still feel fine. So after sex, he isn’t that tired, even if you went at it for two hours. He’ll let you take a nap or go to bed but he usually gets up and does something before lying down for sleep.

[joonie-beanie]

Bean (MC) + sexual relationships with the Demon Brothers

This is an HC no one asked for, but here I am, being thirsty as hell for literally every brother, and funneling that thirst through Bean. Don’t judge me

(This time, in reverse order!...because I can! Also these are kind of messily written but I don’t know how to fix it at this point so forgive plz)

Belphegor:

General Vibe: Lowkey and Playful

Notable Kinks: Choking, edging, overstim, marking

Sex between Bean and Belphie is typically lowkey, and a little playful--depending on the mood.

They may be low-energy buddies, but they’re also both brats, which makes for a dangerous combination.

Most soft (aka lazy) sessions start one of two ways--with Belphie’s mouth on Bean’s neck, or Bean’s hand down Belphie’s pants. 

Belphie is the first of the brothers to discover how sensitive Bean’s neck is. It happens when they’re cuddling, one day, and he leans in to press a kiss to her shoulder. When she shivers, immediately jerking away from the feeling with a high-pitched gasp? Oh, Belphie is relentless.

He holds her against him sternly, not letting her run away, as he assaults her neck and shoulders with his lips, tongue and teeth. (Over time, he absolutely develops a kink for seeing her covered hickies he has given her, and always wears such a little, shit-eating grin if she appears in a hoodie, or anything else that will hide away her upper torso from prying eyes).

He manages to get hard just from hearing her embarrassing sounds (which she is so desperately trying to stifle), and also the fact that every time she wriggles in his arms, her ass grinds against his cock. 

When he’s finally too hard for comfort, he’ll likely take her in either of his two favorite positions. One, with her on her back, and his hand around her throat (she likes being choked, and he likes seeing her lose herself from the lack of blood flow), or two, on her knees, with her chest pressed against the sheets.

Usually, if he’s already pent up, he doesn’t bother edging, or overstimulating her. He’ll just fill Bean with his seed, and flop down onto the sheets, and go back to cuddling her--all blissed out, and tired from the orgasm.

If he feels he can last a while, he’ll likely edge her a few times, just to make her whine, and see if she’ll beg. OR, he’ll make her cum, and then keep going despite how her body is shaking from overstim.

If Bean is the one feeling a little bratty, then she’ll slip her hands beneath the waistband of his pants, and tease him with her fingers. (They both share the role of big spoon, so it’s not strange for her to be able to reach around him, and toy with him like he does her).

Since he never lets her leave without some array of marks littering her neck and shoulders, she makes sure to pay him back--kissing and nipping at his skin until he’s got a few love bites to remember her by.

Bean getting Belphie off with her hand is not very rare. If she’s spooning him, and he’s tired, he has no issue letting her jack him off. However, if he’s not groggy from sleep, he’ll likely turn the tables on her--taking her how he wants, or grabbing her hair and coaxing her head into his lap.

Beel:

General Vibe: Very sweet, or entirely overwhelming (in a good way).

Notable Kinks: Oral, marking, breeding

Bean is honestly a little freaked out by the idea of receiving oral before she meets Beel. She’s embarrassed by the idea of someone camping out between her legs, and it takes a little bit of convincing on Beel’s part before she finally allows him to taste her.

Once he does, he can’t stop, and Bean learns just how pleasurable (and damning) oral sex can be. Because with Beel, once is never good enough. The first time he goes down on her, she has to beg him to stop--her body shaking from overstim, and covered in sweat. She has no idea how long he’s spent with his mouth on her pussy, but it’s at least been an hour, and he still looks so hungry.

Beel is someone very close to her heart, and has helped her learn to love many of her insecurities, so he loves to have soft, caring sex with her. Sex where Bean whispers praises into his skin, and he mirrors her sentiments via soft touches with his hands, and mouth. 

He takes her in a position where he’s guaranteed to face her--where she can cradle his face, and kiss him over and over again as they both fall apart. When she finally cums, she does so while gasping his name, with her fingers digging into his shoulder blades. And when Beel cums, he buries his face in the crook of her neck and bites down on her skin--hard enough to leave marks, but not draw blood. 

She spends her post orgasm bliss tucked into his arms, with her back against his chest, and his lips pressed into her hair. He likes to stay inside of her as long as possible--until he eventually goes soft, and his cum starts leaking out of her.

Of course...sometimes Beel can’t help but be a bit rougher--to crave a little more. He is a demon, after all.

So, when Beel isn’t feeling so soft, he tends to manhandle her. His strength is already known by her--after all, he can carry her with little effort, whereas most humans would struggle to even lift her into a hug--but it never fails to surprise her when he throws her onto the bed, or hikes her up against the wall without batting an eye. (It’s such a turn on).

When Beel’s in a more carnal mood, Bean resigns herself to just being along for the ride. She lets him take her however he wants, as long as he wants. While he has never admitted it, she’s positive he has a bit of a breeding kink, because he loves to go multiple rounds, and makes sure she’s taking as much of his seed as she can. 

When he’s in this state, he tends to leave more marks, as well. Most notably on her thighs, tummy, and chest. 

Once things finally calm down, he’ll make sure she’s alright, and clean her up before holding her for as long as he can.

Oh, also, Bean does reciprocate oral for him. However, Beel is big and her jaw hurts if it’s open too wide, so if she ever starts to ache, Beel is more than happy to use her in other ways instead (Bean honestly feels so lucky that he’s so understanding).

Asmo:

General Vibe: Fun, and uplifting.

Notable Kinks: Edging, overstim, toys, praise kink

Bean is actually more comfortable being dominant with Asmo, than she is subbing.

Asmodeus has a huge praise kink--both giving and receiving, and Bean is more than happy to feed into that--telling him about all his good points while she jacks/sucks him off, or even pegs him.

And, of course, Asmo is more than happy to be submissive to her. She’s not a hard dom by any means, but she can be a bit sadistic (he honestly thinks it stems from her bratty submissive side), and does enjoy edging him, and watching him beg.

It’s actually exciting to Bean to be able to dominate someone and not feel completely self conscious about it. Asmo is really great at reassuring her-- since he’s not afraid to be vocal, or ask for more. It lets Bean know he’s enjoying himself, and helps build her confidence. 

Once Asmo finally gets off, he refuses to let Bean leave without having her own orgasm (even if she assures him she’s okay. He’s the Avatar of Lust--there’s no way in hell he’s not going to return the pleasure she has just given him).

So, when Asmo is trying to repay her actions, he tends to get her off with a vibrating wand (the two absolutely include toys in their play regularly), or with his mouth. Bean gets turned on from fucking him, so she gets off fairly quickly once its her turn.

However, just because Bean dom’s Asmo, doesn’t mean he’s always submissive. Oh no, sometimes, he loves flustering her and taking the reins. (And it really does fluster her. Too much).

While Asmo has a huge praise kink, and soaks up all of her kind words, Bean has no idea how to handle his praise towards her, and usually just turns into a whining mess, begging him to shut up. (Of course, Asmo is pretty relentless, and doesn’t stop until she’s a complete mess from his words).

Sessions with Asmo are usually a fair amount of time, since he really likes to indulge himself in the act, but they don’t unnecessarily drag on. He knows that he and Bean both have other things to get to, and doesn’t feel the need to keep her around him after their love making. No, he makes sure she’s okay, gives her whatever amount of aftercare she needs, and then the two go on their merry way.

Although…there are the rare times where Asmo keeps her there the entire day. While his powers don’t work on her, that doesn’t mean he can’t find a good substitute (aka sometimes, with her consent, they’ll mess around with giving her an aphrodisiac). Whenever Bean takes the aphrodisiac, it’s typically a very intense experience, so they don’t do it often. But when they do? Oh man, Asmo is in love.

Satan:

General Vibe: Unhurried, light-hearted (and sometimes ruining)

Notable Kinks: Pet play, Training

Because Satan is aware of Bean’s writing habits, and has taken to proofing her work for her, the two of them casually speak of sex often, which turns into...well, actual sex between them.

Satan finds it quite cute that despite the smut she writes, Bean doesn’t have a ton of experience to back it up. So, he devotes himself to kindly helping her gain some experience (at least at first).

It starts with oral training--Satan giving Bean pointers on giving head (ya know...so she can write it with a clearer picture/experience in mind). Bean...doesn’t have the best gag reflex, hence the “training”. Satan pretty much takes it upon himself to help her tame her reflex (for the most part--after all, making her gag sometimes is still fun).

Of course...he enjoys this arrangement more than he cares to admit, and he soon breaks down, wanting more. The first time he throws Bean onto his bed and cages her down, all red in the face as he asks if he can have her--oof. She’ll never forget it. And, well, Bean has been a little...pent up, even if she won’t admit it (since blowing Satan actually turns her on a lot), so she’s more than happy to let things progress farther.

Following the broadening of their sexual relationship, Satan takes to, well, training her in other ways. Particularly...through light forms of pet play. So maybe he has a collar and leash, and a cat tailed butt plug. And maybe every time he puts them on/in Bean, it makes her blush so red, and in turn makes him grin so proudly. (He is, after all, the Avatar of Wrath. It’s in his nature to be a little mean).

Their overall play doesn’t get extremely rough. Most of the time, it’s middle ground--rough enough to satisfy them both, without being too intense.

However, sometimes Satan does get a little...feral for lack of a better term. Especially if she’s being a little too bratty, and he’s not in the mood for it. When that happens, Satan gets rough--taking 100% control of the situation. He’ll tease her about how her bratty remarks are nowhere to be found, now that he’s absolutely ruining her.

Once Satan has finally had his fill, though, he’ll be sure to clean her up, and check on her--asking if she’s alright, and bringing her water, and whatever else she may need.

Overall, though, usually sex between the two is very casual, and unhurried. Bean feels comfortable with Satan, especially because they can still talk/banter like normal, even if her mouth is on him, or if he’s inside of her.

Also, Satan won’t admit it, but he’s pretty invested in seeing how else he can train her. His next goal is getting her to cum on command. 

Levi:

General Vibe: needy, intense, competitive

Notable Kinks: DP, oral, thigh fucking

The first time the two have sex, it’s because Levi get’s frustrated over the fact that she’s kicking his ass at Mario Kart. He goes demon form, and Bean attempts to calm him down by pressing her hands to his chest, and kissing him.

It actually makes his brain blue screen for a few seconds, before he’s dragging her over to his tub. He’s hesitant, at first, but with Bean’s reassurance that she’s fine, and that she wants him, he eventually gives into his desires and stops worrying so much. 

And the minute Levi subconsciously begins using his tail to hold her down, or aid in the sex, and realizes that she loves it. Damn. 90% of the time he’s in his demon form when they have sex, because his tail is sensitive and he absolutely will use it on her so long as she permits it.

Sometimes, he only uses it to hold her wrists, or spread her legs, but other times he basically uses it as a second dick and wow, he’s super weak watching Bean fall apart as he fucks two of her holes open.

And Bean, despite her embarrassment, allows herself to be a little vocal for Levi, because it gives him the reassurance that he so desperately needs, and she loves seeing him confident, and using her to seek what he wants.

Levi tends to lose himself, when he’s really having fun. At first, he may be cautious about what he’s doing, but once he really starts feeling good, and realizes that he’s making Bean feel good, he lets his worries go.

And when that happens, he can go for a while. Like, Bean about to pass out but he’s still hard despite having cum in her twice while. However, Levi doesn’t get like that too often. Usually he’s happy with one, good, satisfying round of sex (and so is Bean). But...they both definitely enjoy it when things do get a little more intense.

Also, Bean blowing/jacking off Levi while he’s playing video games is 100% a thing. Most of the time he manages to keep playing, but eventually ends up pausing the game when he’s close to cumming and can’t focus anymore. 

In turn, if the two are playing a game together, and Bean is winning...maybe Levi lets his demon form come forth, and lets his tail wind up her leg. And when the appendage starts groping her, it’s very hard to stay focused.

ALSO, Bean is not big into cosplay, or roleplay, but...she’ll wear a mini skirt and thigh highs for Levi. Asmo buys Bean a maid costume from Akuzon and when Levi sees her in it...and the SQUISHY ANIME GIRL THIGH LINE HE SO DEARLY LOVES...he awakens something within himself.

So yes, upon occasion, when Levi can’t stop staring at her thighs, or if she’s wearing something that draws attention to them, he’ll absolutely just thigh fuck her. It makes him weak.

Mammon:

General Vibe: Teasing, bratty

Notable Kinks: Oral, Anal, Edging 

Mammon is a tsundere but Bean is a brat...and sometimes they don’t mix well.

But, Mammon is the avatar of Greed, and he’s greedy with Bean, and wants the same thing she’s willing to offer his brothers (with her consent, obviously, he’s not an asshole). Luckily, despite their inherent natures, it still works.

And by work, 90% of the time that means “Mammon whines about wanting intimacy, and Bean gives him exactly what he wants, only for him to get flustered by it”. But...she kind of likes seeing him all blushy, and honestly, as long as Mammon is getting his rocks off in the end, he can get over being embarrassed.

Typically, their sessions start one of two ways. 1. Mammon is just craving her affection, and at some point shared hugs and kisses progress into hands under clothes, and breathy moans. Or 2. Mammon sees traces of his brothers “love” on her, and he sits in the corner and pouts about it until a. Bean goes over and coaxes him out of his mood, or b. Mammon takes things into his own hands.

If Mammon is just craving affection, then he’ll likely saddle up next to her, and grumble while wrapping his arms around her. But...his hugs will turn into groping, and his lips will find hers, or sensitive areas of skin to tease. And then he’s grumbling about how she’s his, as their bodies press together--making Bean aware of the fact that he’s definitely hard.

And once he’s hard, and Bean is making little sounds that has him knowing she’s feeling good too, well...Mammon grins and gets to it.

He prefers to take her from behind, because that way he can grab her ass ( and he loves her ass. Like...he’s weak for anal with her. They don’t have it all the time, but sometimes. As a special treat).

The first few times they fuck, Mammon cums before her, and while she reassures him that she’s fine not cumming, Mammon doesn’t want to be one of, if not the only, brother who hasn’t made her cum, so. He steps up his game. Now, he always has them cum together, if not her first.

At least...that’s how it goes when he’s the one being more dominant. Because Bean loves to tease him, especially when he’s already blushy, and flustered. 

During the times where she takes charge, she’ll slip into her bratty nature as she teases him with dirty remarks while taking his cock into her hand, or mouth. And Mammon does his best not to fall apart as she brings him to the edge one, twice, and again, until he’s cursing and begging for her to let him cum already. And she always does--but hey, a girl has to have her fun first right?

Lucifer:

Overall Vibe: Intimate, Sadistic (surprise surprise)

Notable Kinks: Bondage, Spanking, Denial

Once Bean finally gets over emotional constipation, and the two realize they do, indeed, reciprocate each other's feelings, well...sex is kind of enivitable (not that either of them mind).

At first, their sex is very intimate, and needy. Bean is a mixture of embarrassed and excited, whereas Lucifer feels he needs to catch up for lost time--to stake his equal claim to her as his brothers have. He works quickly while reassuring her of his feelings--drowns them both in their pleasure until the cravings they’ve held onto for so long are thoroughly spent.

Then...once things have calmed down, things get a little more...spicy.

Whereas before, Lucifer may have just scolded Bean for making a bratty comment. Well...now he can reprimand her in other ways.

While Lucifer isn’t big on leaving hickies, or bite marks like some of his brothers, he has no issue bending her over the desk in his study, and reddening her ass and thighs (he prefers to use his hand, but if he’s feeling particularly mean, he may pull out the whip he so dearly loves). And for what it’s worth, Bean enjoys it--she wouldn’t be bratty to him otherwise (and, of course, Lucifer wouldn’t spank her to begin with if she wasn’t getting something out of it as well).

Aside from this, Lucifer has taken to using his rope skills on her--but in ways far more enjoyable than he uses on Mammon. Likeeeee...tying her hands behind her back and having her service him while he works. Orrrrr...putting her in a pretty body harness, because he enjoys seeing the way it accentuates her (and he likes seeing rope marks as well). Oh, and you can’t forget tying her down on his bed so he’s truly in 100% control.

One of Lucifer’s favorite things to do is tie her up, and then deny her. Time and time again, until she’s quite literally begging--letting go of her mental restraints in order to plead for her orgasm. Watching her fall apart for him is his delight, and only once he’s satisfied with how helpless she has become, does he allow her to cum.

Of course, sex with Lucifer isn’t always so intense, or sadistic. No, the man is busy, and sometimes Bean just wants to help him unwind. So, she’ll take it upon herself to settle between his legs and get him off with her mouth and hands. Or, she’ll snuggle up to him in bed, and if she feels him getting hard, she’ll just kiss him and ask if he wants her to take the reins for the night (which usually means riding him, while he holds her hips--only helping her out when she gets close and can barely move anymore).

And they both love the soft, intimate sessions as much as they do the ones where Lucifer gets Bean so desperate that tears prick her eyes.

Lucifer is very good about aftercare, though, especially when he’s been quite mean. He’ll clean her up and kiss her hair and bring her water. Oh, and of course she’ll be staying with him for the night--with his arm draped over her waist, or his wings curled around her. (Like she’d even try to leave…)

[googledocsdyke]

the way that cas basically remade himself in dean’s image after he fell in so many ways, like i will love you and i will die for you but i can never touch you and i can never tell you, and then suddenly he has this kid who looks up to him the way he used to look up to dean, and he has to learn how to be a parent to this god child and for the first time he is making his own choice to not raise jack the way dean raised sam, that instead of losing himself in parenthood he found himself?? mm delicious glass

no it's extremely insane because like. cas learned to be a human through dean like we know this. dean is a textual role model for him (cas is INSANE for this btw i say this with love for them both). and he cared about the whole world because of him and it's the best love story of all time. BUT. when it comes time to raise his child he does not take the image of fatherhood that dean reveres as a role model. like he very easily could've just been like "oh this was the kind of father who raised dean and i would lay down my life for dean so this kind of fatherhood must be Right." but NO! like from the moment he first became a father he knew that that was no way to ease a small thing into this too-heavy world. once again castiel supernatural gets a good grade in escaping the narrative and its relentless insistence on cyclical patriarchal violence. do you ever quietly defy the order of heaven and earth by being gay and raising your gay son with unconditional love??????????

[jetaime-jespere]

Prompt #36/129

#36: I don’t know who I am without you / #129. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you.

It isn’t the first time Aaron comes to see her with flowers in hand, and it doesn’t make visiting her grave any easier, or any less painful.

Flowers became a thing early on, starting with their first date several months before. Aaron had been anxious in the hours leading up to it - distracted all day, letting his eyes linger on her a few seconds too long here and there. It’s clear something was up. He assumed Dave must have overheard him confirming with Jessica about picking Jack up from his playdate, and that he’ll pick him up from her place around nine. All day he’d dodged the carefully timed stares, a few subtle winks whenever Emily’s back was turned.

“Got a date?” Dave asked casually on their way out, much later that afternoon, keeping his eyes forward as the elevator doors closed. But he’d smiled, which suggests he definitely overheard, and has all but figured out why Aaron is leaving so uncharacteristically early.

Aaron plays dumb, scrambling for an excuse for his early departure, and manages something out about a friend being in town. Dave had simply laughed. “Emily likes flowers,” he’d said as Aaron held his briefcase with a slightly sweaty hand. “I hope you picked some out.”

The quirk of an eyebrow, and the amusement hidden in the subtle contours of Aaron’s face all but give him away, the exact reason now known. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dave.” It’s an attempt in vain.

“But you do, and before you even ask how, just know I have my ways.”

Aaron had never been happier to see elevator doors open. What he doesn’t tell Dave is that he’s had flowers figured out already, for a few days now.

He remembers that night - their first date - like it was yesterday; it’s never fully dissipated from his mind. She’d been wearing blue - cerulean, to be specific - and she blushed ever so slightly when he handed her the bouquet of Dahlias and told her she looked beautiful.

Their reservation (at a Tapas bar close to the National Mall) had mysteriously gotten deleted, leaving them without a table only after they arrived at the restaurant. Emily had laughed despite Aaron’s visible frustration, taking the whole thing in stride as she tucked her hand in his arm. Instead, they ended up walking around the Monuments and eating street tacos from a food truck wrapped in heavy coats. Despite the cold, it was light, fun, and as he dropped her off in front of her building, he’d kissed her - brief, but full, his lips on hers a promise of a second date sooner rather than later.

There was indeed a second date; this one to an antique bookstore in Alexandria followed by coffee on a chilly Sunday morning. The threat of snow later that afternoon hadn’t deterred them. Aaron brings her flowers again - lilies - and she’d held them to her nose for the briefest of seconds as the blush rose to her cheeks once more. The second date was three weeks after the first, thanks to a barrage of cases that seemed to multiply, one right after the other, at a relentless rate with little time for anything else, let alone any semblance of a personal life.  And yet, they picked up right where they left off, the same easy banter and familiarity that comes with years of knowing someone as well as they do. He kisses her again, this time bringing a hand to her hair and another around her back, pulling her in close. It’s not even a question if there will be a third date when they pull away, breathless.

Their third date was Valentine’s Day, and she’d come to his place for the first time in over a year, since the days after Foyet threatened to rip his family apart. Aaron bought roses - two dozen red ones - as cliché as it was, handing them to her when she’d arrived. She’d beamed as she shook the light dusting of snowflakes off her shoulders, apologizing for her lateness, murmuring that the flowers were beautiful. He’d planned on making her dinner but instead he’d taken her to bed, leaving their clothes scattered across the living room floor. Emily was beautiful beneath him; her long legs wrapped around his waist as he’d learned her, taking his time finding all the places that made her moan. Her fingers tangled in his hair when he’d kissed his way down the flat planes of her stomach and between her legs, her hands gripped his shoulders as he thrusted into her, she’d lowered herself down to press her chest against his, his arms wrapped around her as she rode him to completion with his own finish coming in the seconds after her own.

Aaron also ruined their dinner during their preoccupation - overcooked the steak and burnt the potatoes to a blackened crisp, rendering it all inedible. With a sheet wrapped around her chest, Emily had reached for her phone and ordered pizza, which they ate in bed straight out of the box. “The best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had,” she’d whispered in his ear much later, her lips smoothing down his jaw as she pushed him onto his back, a devious grin on her face. Hours later, he repeated her words right back to her, pressing kisses to her lips.

It all fell apart shortly after that.

Date number four was cruelly ripped right out of their hands as Emily slipped away, literally and figuratively, the threat of Ian Doyle becoming a reality. She’d withdrawn, becoming distant and even secretive, slipping into briefings late and sneaking clandestine glances at her phone throughout the day. Aaron had been oblivious to the truth (she hid that from all of them), but he knew something was direly wrong.

Two weeks after she cancelled their fourth date with a heaviness in her voice that culminated over the last few weeks, he heard the name Lauren Reynolds for the first time. And about ten days after that, he signed the paperwork that essentially rendered Emily Prentiss dead.

So now, Aaron always brings her flowers. It feels wrong not to, because he always has. This time he brings Irises; Emily likes those. She told him that once, back when he hung on every word she said, his brain absorbing every last detail of her to commit to memory. Now those memories come back and haunt him like a curse. The car door slams but he doesn’t hear it, and he adjusts the hood of his jacket and tucks his keys into his pocket. He keeps his head down, grateful for the soft rain that falls in the summer wind like a whisper as he maneuvers through the gate, stepping over the neat landscaping. Every step he takes brings him closer to her yet she’s never been further away from him, and he finally releases the breath he’s been holding when he sits down next to her headstone.

“Hi,” Aaron says softly, fumbling with the stems in his hands as he sets them down beside the ones he’d brought the other day, brushing his fingers over the cold marble headstone. “I miss you, you know. I’m sorry it’s been a few days. It was a hell of a week.” Being here is a familiar ritual, one that brings him an unexplainable bit of comfort and yet a profound sense of grief. It’s been four months since they buried an empty casket into the ground as she convalesced in the hospital. Four months since he explained to Jack with as much patience as he could muster that Emily had to go away for awhile, possibly forever, and calmly answered his son’s questions even as his own heart was shattering into pieces.

Aaron supposes it feels mildly silly, talking to someone who isn’t even there, spiritually or whatever, because what most don’t know is she’s not even dead.

She may as well be. Those were her words, not his. It’s what she said in the days after Boston, still too weak to travel but awake and fully cognizant, the impending reality looming in the distance. Aaron had sat at her side, as close as he could get without physically climbing into the bed with her, his hand a fixture in hers for the better part of the two weeks she’d spent there.

“These nurses are like drill sergeants,” Emily had groaned one afternoon after she’d taken a few laps around the floor, pushing a walker with Aaron hovering at her side, a protective hand on her back. It took nearly all of her energy; her eyelids had fluttered within minutes of returning to her bed.

“They’re supposed to help you get better, you know.” And while he can’t help but feel proud of her for how far she’s come, her returning strength is a reminder that soon enough she’ll vanish from their lives, unceremoniously, as if she never existed at all.

Her grave is the only place he feels close to her, as if she, wherever she is, might be there in some way too. It’s where Aaron talks to her, tells her the mundane things about life - the life that has seemingly paused since she left- anecdotes about Jack’s soccer team, Dave’s new car, every now and then he’ll mention a case. Sometimes it’s a haze of confusion, asking the questions he most likely will never get answers to, his voice breaking at the most simple, yet complicated of them all. Why? How?

Other days, it’s grief that courses through his veins and clouds his heart, like a vice grip around his windpipe that makes every intake of breath more painful than the last. They all feel her absence; a numbness has enveloped them all in the last couple of weeks especially. But he bears the pain of knowing the truth and being responsible for the secret they’ve held to keep her safe. Today is one of those days.

“I wish I could be angry with you,” he says, never taking his eyes off the headstone. “For what you put us through.” He’s tried that. Anger never lasts long, because Aaron sees her face in his mind, full of poorly concealed fear as he and JJ had passed over the dossier of new identities into her hands, signifying the beginning of the end.

“Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you,” Aaron chokes through the mounting thickness in his throat. “It’s not the same without you. Nothing is.” His face is wet, and it’s not because of the rain. Most of his visits end this way, and he takes the long way back home to pull himself together. “We miss you. I miss you.”

It’s getting harder to breathe, harder to conceal the sobs that are coming like the stormcloud in the distance, and he buries his face in his hands to cry because there’s nothing left he can do. “I don’t know who I am without you, Emily.”

There’s a rustling in the trees behind him sometime later. If he closes his eyes he can almost hear her footsteps behind him, sure and steady. Aaron can’t bring himself to turn around because she won’t be there - she’s already gone.

“I love you,” he whispers, knowing he should have said it a long time ago.

[sopxhiea]

Wicked

Alfie Solomons X Reader

Enemies to Lovers!

Warnings: Large age gap.

Summary: Alfie stumbles upon a very familiar face around Birmingham and he finds his feelings to alter as he watches her.

“Don’t fall in love with me.”

The weather is gentle against the lilies growing around. There are a couple kids running around under the chirpy April weather as the city moves on. The sounds of cars and footsteps fill the humid air while the smell of freshly baked bread escapes the bakery around the corner, inviting any hungry souls with a penny to spare.

The heels of your leather boots create loud thuds against the pavement’s surface while you check your pocket for the watch, eyes scanning the accessory in an attempt to stop time.

It’s a busy day.

There is a small job to be taken care of, a stubborn lad has to be threatened in exchange of some cash. It’s time to take the main road after that, visit the Shelby company to see the familiar man and get as much as you can out of him.

You look like a woman in love.

An outsider could mistake you for a foreigner to this town, your beige coat and airy summer dress compliment your skin as the heavy boots contradict the soft image created by the upper half of the outfit. You look like a kind person from the outside, someone who probably owns a cottage with her husband and lives quietly.

You’re far from that.

Your family business has shaped you into a sharper person than what you would’ve been. It’s made you a person capable of persuading just about anyone whether it’s for a murder case or some expensive jewels. 

There’s no point on dwelling on it. You hadn’t chosen the live you were born into, being the only heiress of a gang was not your first choice anyway but you got on with it. You grew up learning how to conceal how you felt, learned to choke a man to death and even came close to doing it once. 

An hour passes, you run your pretty mouth by a couple people in search of a name and a sweet little lady gives it to you not too long after. You don’t like to think about how all this thrills you, the reason why you’re so good at it is because you enjoy chasing men down.

Not too long after you visit to the given location, you return to the heart of the area with the information you needed and blood on your sleeve. You hide it by pulling the sleeve of the already oversized coat. You flash smiles, the way to the Shelby company is close.

Sometimes, you think of the past.

It’s a bad habit, you know. It makes you feel stuck, like there is war again and you’re the only hope the family has. There’s the horror of being young and helpless when you dwell on the past, it mostly brings doom and desperation from the painful years that cast a glassy look in your eyes.

But there are parts you don’t wish to forget.

You recall his name, Alfie. He had been a rival of your dad’s for a long time even after he’d passed away. He was relentless, stubborn and much bigger than you were. You were a teenager when you’d first seen him, he was a young man then. You had sworn to him that you’d get taller than he was, both in height and the status he upheld.

He was gentle, had been there all along while your family went through some rough patches that only left you and your little brother on the upper part of the soil that coated this earth. There was an understanding you had with the man, almost like your souls were made of the same parts.

He was the enemy.

You often told yourself that when his name came up in conversations. You didn’t have any contact left with him, the jewish community was on the far end of the city from where your business operated so there was no reason to mess with his area. It had been over four years since you’d seen him, the enemy.

You were grown now, respected and very well known. You knew the business, how the thick headed men operated and you were an expert in getting what you wanted, not the shaky small girl he knew you as.

Walking in the bet shop, you heard Tommy’s assistant call your name. You had been long lost family friends and the business benefited from an associate like the Shelbys. You were older than Finn by a couple months, making most of the people in the shop treat you like a small girl but his assistant knew better.

You were escorted to his room by a brunette woman, she seemed nice enough to let you know that he had another meeting. Her remark made you check your watch, you didn’t have that much time if you wanted to get everything done for the day. Your brother would be waiting for you in front of the factory soon.

Shaking your head, you knocked the door once and entered without the approving sound of ‘come in.

It was hard to comprehend the scene before you.

Tommy was sitting behind his desk, leaning back on the chair in a calm state. There was Finn, a smile spread on his lips when he saw you, he’d been a friend since you were kids. You didn’t return the gesture, your gaze fell on to the new blinder next. He had a similar look to John, just broader and he looked more like he was from Tommy’s mother’s side.

Then you saw him.

It took you a minute, his face was covered in the usual scruff but it was kept in a nicer shape. He hid behind his hat, you recognised the velvet fabric first and the owner of it not too long after. The sight of him with wide eyes, looking directly at you made you swallow while Tommy stood up.

“Y/N.” the Shelby spoke and you returned his gaze with a soft smile. It was half-assed.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Tommy spoke once more and Alfie got up, shaking his hand and muttering something into Tommy’s ear. You ignored the rush of excitement that washed over you when he passed by, the smell of vanilla and rum evident when he stopped by to greet you with his hat.

You smiled and spoke with a low hum. “Mr. Solomons.” you murmured as he inspected you.

You were not the little girl he saw in pony tails around the mansion anymore. You had grown up to be a woman, a very beautiful one at that. You didn’t look like your family, they were all average looking people with dangerous stares whereas you were much softer to the eye, it was like inspecting a well-done painting to look at you.

His eyes pierced through yours for a few moments, hand tugging at his beard while he spoke. His voice was all the same. “Lass.” he said, making you frown in the slightest because it made you think that he didn’t remember your name.

You were his rival more than anything. Your company ruled one end of the city and he did the same to the other. There was always hunger for more, wars and murders to make sure everyone stayed in their territory but also deals made behind closed doors to make sure one business controlled all over. 

But you’d play nice.

You shook his hand, didn’t reach for your gun and waited a little for him to leave before you got down to business. Your deceased father would tell you to knife his throat if it weren’t for the multiple gang wars that would arise, so you stayed put and let him leave.

Sitting down on the chair in front of Tommy’s table after greeting Finn and learning that the new blinder was indeed Pol’s son, you got to business. There was whiskey drank and deals made as you tried to ease Tommy’s tension behind Alfie’s leave. You didn’t care that the man was stressed but to get what you wanted, you’d have to be patient.

Two hours later, you bid a farewell to the familiar faces and left the building. Walking towards the factory your little brother would pick you up from, you hurried your steps, making the dress swish around your ankles while a car followed you. 

You knew who it was.

When the machine stopped right next to you on the side walk, you watched Alfie get out of the soft seats. He had a cane in his hand but he looked the same he did after the war. You looked right at him when he towered above you, no words spoken because you had to be careful with him.

He was the enemy, and had been for longest time. 

“Why are you following me?” you spat, feeling warmth radiate off of his body at the close proximity. 

He recalled the time you’d said you’d grow taller than him, it brought a smile to his lips as he spoke.

“I remember, yeah..” he said, fingers waving through the air as he spoke. “You were just a small fuckin’ girl then..” he chuckled and you waited for him to finish, arms crossed. “Tellin’ me, yeah, that you’d be taller than me when ya’ grew up.” he said, his smile was infectious but you concealed his affect on you.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” you spat back, ready to have a go at him as a look of pleasant surprise flashed across his face.

You’d always been the one with wits. He recalled the times when your teenager self would bicker with him, the playful banters would grow heated but he’d do nothing much after lewd images of you filled his mind. You were eighteen then, old enough to know what you wanted but young enough to mistake an enemy for a lover.

He knew better.

“You’re still fuckin’ fiesty, eh.” he spoke, nodding as he took the image of you as a grown woman.

“How’s business?” you ask, ready to mock him the minute he answered but he spat back another question.

“How’s Jack? he asked, seeing the slight rise of emotion in your eyes and that was enough for him. He knew your little brother well and knew what you went through to protect him.

“Jack’s fine.” you said, voice stern while amusement filled his blue orbs.

“So is business.” he spoke, answering your question and making the fire in your eyes light up once again.

You nodded, a soft smile on your lips while you uncrossed your arms. He’d seen you grow up even though he was the enemy since your parents had always been a fan of the mantra of keeping enemies closer than friends. He’d been there, casting in the shadows when they’d died, too and he was still there when the business had risen from the ashes you’d picked up.

“’s been some time, yeah?” he said, nodding at his own words while you forgot about your brother and the place you had to be

“It has.” you said, feeling yourself grow comfortable at the familiar conversations. They had been missed, he was the only man who knew how to speak to a woman around here after all, had always been that way.

“You’ve grown.

“You’ve aged.” you spoke, earning a chuckle from his lips. The sound of him was still the same.

He had aged, but like fine wine. It wasn’t the same way you’d seen man around here age, he’d just gotten better looking. He was young when you got to know him, barely had half of his might he possessed now. There were less wrinkles on his face than you’d seen a man his age have, he just looked rugged and you hated that your heart did a little flip every time he licked his lips.

“Got somewhere to be?” he spoke, realising that you had been going somewhere before he held you up.

“I do, actually.” you spoke, your voice was breathy and soft and he wondered how you would sound with his head between your legs. He nodded at your words, you looked at the road before you while he got to talking again. 

“Why don’t we go for a cup of tea, yeah?” he asked, much out of the blue as you stared at him with wide eyes.

He was the enemy.

Sure he was attractive and much more pleasant to be around than your brother but your family had spent too much to be where you were. There were too many factors involved and no matter just how badly you wanted to say yes, you knew how to play this game well and that meant brushing arms with the jewish man before you.

He spoke once again before you could start speaking. “For ol’ times’ sake, right, no funny business.” he spoke, refraining from cursing every two words because frankly he wanted to impress you.

He sensed the hesitancy you had, it was only natural that you had doubts regarding the familiar face before you. You smiled first, there were too many ways this could go. He watched as you took in a deep breath, your chest rising as he tried his best to look at your eyes and only, it was amusing.

For old times sake.

“If it’s just for some old company..” you said, liking the way his eyes sparkled when he looked at you. “...you won’t mind Jack being there..” you spoke, knowing very well that he would in fact mind your brother being there.

It took him a minute. Of course he minded. He couldn’t show you that though, things were still pretty fresh in his mind. He remembered the way you’d catch him looking during a business meeting and frown, it made him smile to this day. He recalled the days where you’d spend the hours around his office, trying to find a stable deal for what your father wanted. You’d been young then, smart regardless.

“That’d be fuckin’ lovely, yeah..” he said, pulling at his beard as he watched you inspect him. “Missed the lad myself.” he said, clearly lying.

Jack and Alfie didn’t get along as friends but they were compatible enough to be business partners. They’d always bicker around but the words thrown around were much different compared to when you’d mess around with Alfie. It was more aggressive, not as light-hearted.

You nodded, telling him to come meet you in this coffee shop around the corner from his place. He smiled at your words, you still knew the address. You gave him a couple quick glances, one to look at his face one last time as he blushed under the afternoon sun and one to finally say goodbye.

He watched as you walked towards the car.

-----------

In the span of two hours, you’d managed to scold your brother, score a large deal and make it to the shop. Jack, who was a couple years older than you, was being a pain as usual. He wasn’t so unpleasant to the people you were making business with but he was to you, it was the bond you’d developed after everyone in your family had passed away.

You found yourself sitting in a wooden circle table with Alfie and Jack not too long after. They were chatting about the business, the incomings and the outgoings and all that. You listened intently, realising just now that you’d missed the way Alfie said things, not only because of his accent but his charisma and charm that had been mere illusions when you were small.

Alfie’s eyes landed on you as Jack talked about some deal you’d made just an hour ago. He started speaking about the buyers and the receivers of the deal but Alfie’s focus was solely on you as you poured some milk into the coffee cup. He watched as you stirred, not looking up at anyone and purely living in your own world.

You knew when Alfie had something to ask, he would.

You’d liked that about him. He was honest and blunt, didn’t beat around the bush and said whatever was going on in his mind. You only knew a handful of people who were capable of doing that and most were women.

Your eyes met his at last after a few fidgeting moments from your part. You looked at him, thinking that he’d probably asked something but you were living too much in your head to realise that there had been a real conversation going on in the first place. Your eyes were wide open as you spoke, making him want to giggle.

“Huh?” you said, Jack stopped talking and looked at you. “You said something, Mr. Solomons?” you spoke once again, the addressing him with his surname sting him but he’d be gentle.

“’s Alfie, luv.” he spoke and watched you nod, searching for an answer to your previous question. 

“I said, right, do ya’ still got the dog?” he spoke, the question was openly directed at you.

You had a large dog when you were a teenager. It was a great dane, a black creature that would follow you around all the time. Alfie had last seen him in your dad’s office, the thing used to reach above your knee level. 

You smiled at the question, he patted himself in the back for seeing your beautiful smile once more after all these years before he listened.

“No. He was getting too old so we put him to rest a couple years back.” you said, a glint of sadness evident in your eyes but Alfie swore that he almost missed it.

You faced him this time, a little more confident and asked him about his dog, Cyril. He told you about how he got bigger, even though he was already impossibly large the last time you’d seen him. The dull conversation then turned into a lively one, you chatted the day up, asking about anything and everything you were curious about until you looked to your right and Jack wasn’t there.

He had excused himself to go take care of some business, even though there was none to take care of currently. You guessed it was because of how intense the talk was between you and Alfie. It ran smoothly but the speed was much harder for an outsider to pick up, so was the sarcasm and the wit.

He also didn’t quite like the way Alfie’s gaze ran along your body from head to toe every now and then.

You weren’t a little girl anymore so Jack couldn’t boss you around, that was why he’d mumbled a small excuse and left you and Alfie alone. You dismissed the thought and kept on asking him about his new home, the one he’d bought in the years of your absence.

“I got them, right, to do the walls in fuckin’ oak.” he said, smiling at the end of the sentence while you chuckled to yourself.

You had missed this.

There had been a voice at the back of your mind this whole time, it was your father’s, warning about not sleeping with the enemy. You had low intentions of maybe kissing the handsome lad who was currently speaking about his new office, you didn’t know if you wanted to take it so far as to sleep with him.

He was the enemy.

There was flour on the his shoe sloes, he smelled of vanilla and rum. His skin was rough, the experience of life gave him a tougher look than the one in his eyes that were directed at you. He made you laugh, it was silly just how giddy this bear of a man was.

You shook your head, nodding along the words he was saying but you’d missed the question and so you were met with curious eyes of the jewish gangster. This was the second time you were daydreaming about him in front of him and a low colour of pink blush rose on your cheeks.

“You’re not the listenin’ type these days, eh?” he spoke, chuckling lowly when you shook your head.

“Sorry, I just..” you breathed out, your voice was much breathier now and he casted a hungry look in your direction. One you decided to ignore.

You didn’t say anything more, the shake of your head was enough to let him know what had been on your mind. He had always been able to see right through you, more so than the people you were related to by blood. You murmured a small excuse, telling him that you needed to leave and he nodded.

You offered him a smile as he continued to talk, both of you standing up now that the night was near. It had been hours of talking and you’d lost track of time. You needed to take care of some things at home and also listen to your brother bitch about how he’d been left out of the coffee talk you had with Alfie.

“I’ll see ya?” he asked while you waited outside the shop, he’d always been the one to address things a little to quickly than the average person.

“Do you want to?” you asked, the game of push and pull was natural in between the two of you.

He chuckled wholeheartedly and you ignored the small smile on your lips formed by the action. “Do I wanna fucking see ya?” he nodded, repeating the question as if it were something he’d never heard of but you nodded like it was common. It made him shake his head and lean closer to you so that you felt his hot breath against your face.

“I would love to fuckin’ see ya, lass, right, and I know, yeah, that you know that fuckin’ well at this point.” he spoke, eyes moving up and down along your body, just enough to make you forget that he was supposed to be the enemy.

You smiled wickedly at his words, you knew that he wanted to, why else would he be looking at you the way he was?

“Well, then..I suppose you know the rule.” you whispered against his face, making him weak in the knees. He was comforted by the wicked ways your mind worked and enjoyed this game all too well.

“What fucking rule?” he spoke, almost rolling his eyes when your lips ghosted over his.

You’d been waiting for this for so long.

“Mr. Solomons, you’re the enemy..” you spoke, seductive enough to earn a grunt of extreme approval from him and he felt your small hands on his chest. “We’re supposed to be hating each other, not flirting in a public setting.” you smirked as he listened you, eyes never leaving your lips.

“Tell me the fuckin’ rule then, yeah, lass, or else I’ll end up takin’ ya’ right here.” he spoke against your lips, you hadn’t kissed him yet but he was already drowning the moment your lips ghosted over his. You pushed him down by the slightest, making sure he wouldn’t do anything funny before speaking.

“As much I like the idea..” you breathed against his face, watching his eyes glisten with want. “..here it goes.” you spoke before listing the rules almost too quietly. You felt his eyes close when he felt you speak against his lips.

“Don’t fall in love with me.” you said, earning a low chuckle from him, he wasn’t gonna have something half his size order him around, no matter how aroused the idea made him feel.

He shook his head at the idea, he couldn’t deny that you were made to love. He’d been intrigued with the idea all those years back as well but you were entirely too young, no matter just how much you toyed with him at times. The age difference was significant still but you were much older now. Certainly not the rosy cheeked eighteen year old he once found amusing.

“Luv, ya-” he stared speaking but you cut him off, taking a step towards the man twice your size as he towered above you.

“Alfie, I don’t mind all the fuss right..” you spoke, very well aware of the fact that you were on dangerous waters but that made it even more appealing. “I don’t mind the sleeping around either. We just need to keep it casual.” you spoke against his face and he swore he would kill anyone to kiss right there and then. But he didn’t.

“Casual aye?” he spoke, mumbling something under his breath that you failed to catch.

You knew it would be hard and that it was a challenge, you knew he loved to love domestically, to show his girl off and worship her. You’d heard things and while all that sounded blissful, you’d have to do it under closed doors. That was the way go when you were sleeping with the enemy.

“I’m not saying it’ll be easy but if you so badly wanna do this..” you swallowed while catching a glimpse of something in his eyes. “We have to be secretive.”

You watched him as he took a good look at you, almost like he was trying to see if doing things behind everyone’s backs would be worth it. Oh, it was so worth it. He tugged at his beard, trying to make some words out without being too blunt, scared of hurting your feelings when things hadn’t even started.

So he didn’t say anything. Neither did you. For a couple minutes, you just stood there, letting the light breeze touch the soft skin of your cheeks and play with the ends of your dress. He watched you while your eyes traveled across his ginger beard, looking like beams of sunlight when the gentle rays hit his face. 

A smile formed on your lips while you walked towards him, close enough so that if you whispered anything, he’d be the first one to hear. You looked around, trying to savour the last moments before the soft sounds of your voice filled his ears. You would walk to your car after speaking and he would watch.

“Let me know if you decide to do this.”

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Tagging: @clairecrive​  @parkbearum​ @sourirez​ @bicevans​ @mollybegger-blog

a/n: First piece since being back and I apologise for how long it is. Lemme know if you want another chapter!