#scrawny band
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Lovejoy normal people things / 505 Arctic monkeys / dirty night clowns Chris garneau / misery meat sodikken / Saint Bernard 2 Lincoln / rose coloured lenses unlike Pluto / six legs tippy Tappy toes scrawny / bug collector Haley heynderickx / oleander mother mother / soft boy Wilbur soot / Millie warm the kettle rabbitology / curses crane wives / Millie warm the kettle rabbitology / curses crane wives / candle burn rabbitology / candle burn rabbitology / thus always to tyrants the oh hellos / candle burn rabbitology / thus always to tyrants the oh hellos / curses the crane wives / Millie warm the kettle rabbitology 
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pfctipper · 11 months ago
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Off duty [in Aldbourne] the men spent time relaxing in camp or hoping for passes to London. One man who was especially adept at finagling passes was Joe Liebgott, a clever and highly talented soldier who doubled as the company’s barber. ‘You know, sir,’ Liebgott said as he trimmed Winters’ hair, ‘between all the drills and the men wanting haircuts, it really wears me down.’ ‘Joe, why is it this subject only comes up when you are halfway through my haircuts?’ Winters asked. ‘Ahh, Captain,’ Liebgott whined. ‘You make it sound like I’m deliberately maneuvering you. It’s just that when I have you in the chair is when I think of it.’ ‘Uh-huh,’ Winters said. ‘And if I want you to finish the job on me and make it look good, you need to be assured of a three-day pass.’ ‘It sure would help my mental well-being,’ Liebgott said. ‘Okay, Joe. If you don’t cut my ear off, you got your pass.’ Liebgott smiled. It worked every time.
Larry Alexander, Biggest Brother: The Life Of Major Dick Winters, The Man Who Led The Band of Brothers (2006)
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mystxcfire · 1 year ago
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Evil Thoughts ^^
So, I am having very evil thoughts about some John Dory Ideas.
Like what if, Time-Travel John Dory. This idea came to me about the worm holes in the Trolls: The Beat goes on. Like what if 20s or mid 30s John Dory went forward/Backwards in time, like they switch places. If 20s John Dory, he would be in his mid life crisis mindset and maybe a bit feral but would be in shock at seeing his family being older than him making him the youngest with a guilt conscious on his mind. I like the idea that JD was gray for a bit when he was exploring and adventuring so, he is gray when he travelled into the future. If 30s John Dory, he would’ve try and save their grandma but ultimately fail in doing so but he tries to make it up by taking care of Branch and becoming a right hand man for King Peppy. He would also went out to get his brothers back as well and apologize to them.
Looks: 20s JD, would look like a twink. To me, JD wouldn’t have that much to eat and would be considered very underweight and look very skinny and scrawny. He looks the same as when he had left Branch but gray and seems to be glaring at others often than not, keeping a very noticeable distance between others including his brothers.
For 30s JD, looks like his canon self but as time goes on, he dawns a more exhausted look to himself. He would be constantly staring off to the distance. He wears the same clothing as his canon else but would have to change it up a bit.
Extra Info: TT!20s JD is a menace. He loves to cause trouble as he is very used to it as he has lived in the forest for awhile but he does double down when he was taken into his now ‘older’ brothers and was learning how to be civil with the trolls of pop village.
TT!30s JD on the other hand, is old. He is considered to be his brothers father which he didn’t mind and neither does his brothers, now sons. He wanted to mend the relationship that he himself felt responsible for breaking the bond, as brothers and as their father.
Or What if a Time-Loop Au of where John Dory entered a worm hole in which he was struck by a weird light and he was suddenly back in his old body and decided to try an change the past but in doing so, he created time-loops in which certain events happened instead of what would’ve happened. Like each Aus that are created are time-loops that Time-Loop JD created but everytime a new loop is created the previous loop is still implanted into his mind making him even more depressed, anxious, wary, confused and distrustful towards others. The Time-Loop either resets when JD dies or if one of his brothers dies.
Looks: John Dory would look the same as his young canon self but as the time-loop progresses, he starts to change himself. He is more tired looking, dawns different article of clothing from each time-loop that went by, has an exhausted look in his eyes as he stares off to the distance. He even stops eating at one point and gotten skinny and underweight. Scars are littered around his body, from times that he died during the time-loops.
Extra Info: TL!JD is very forgetful. He sometimes forgets about time-loops where he dies instead of grandma or Branches Dies instead. It’s an endless loop of time. Sometimes they are short but sometimes they are long. The longs ones, are the ones that hit him the hardest as he would always remember them. Always.
The fact that I thought up of this is uncanny as, I had just remembered in Trolls: The beat goes on, in one of the episodes, they were sucked into a wormhole in which anything is possible so, I decided to make something from that knowledge. Also, I would think that John Dory, would’ve had encounters of wormholes from time to time but wouldn’t be able to go through into exploring one since he mostly didn’t have the time or Rhonda would’ve stopped him from going through.
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ramblingsfromthytruly · 3 months ago
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i've been sleeping with the light on
i tend to freak myself out
will you come a little closer
now and tell me i'm a
SCRAWNY MOTHERFUCKER WITH A COOL HAIRSTYLE
SCRAWNY MOTHERFUCKER WITH A COOL HAIRSTYLE
SCRAWNY MOTHERFUCKER WITH A COOL HAIRSTYLE
I'M A SCRAWNY MOTHERFUCKER WITH A COOL HAIRSTYLE
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creaturefeaster · 1 year ago
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We're you a dirty dirty band kid wire
Not just a band kid but a marching band kid. I'd leave for extra curricular jazz band at 5:30 in the morning. I was the filthiest genre of band kid.
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gristlebloom-orchid · 1 year ago
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I am so normal about Creature Feature folks (no)
I went fucking nuts when I saw this in my book lmfao
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bugbuoyx · 2 years ago
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Transition Timeline! I wish I had pics prior to 2018 but they don't look much different tbh. In order from left to right the pics are from 2018, 2020. and 2023. I started t in 2019. It's wild how much happier and more confident I feel now, especially post-top.
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waddlezstar · 2 months ago
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A bit wild for anyone to think of Gary as a young guy that's an old man to me
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bahrlee · 2 years ago
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Ever since not doing marching band I've been realizing just how fucked up it kinda was especially when hearing the horror stories from the hgihschoolers I'm still friends with. I think they need to unionize
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djevelbl · 20 days ago
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The Nightmares should sing a cover of READ YOUR DIARY by Måneskin for their spring event submission. that or I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE. or any fucking Måneskin song tbh I think it'd fit them
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Viendo el remake que alguien le hizo al fnafhs pq esa fue mi preadolescencia.... QUÉ COÑO ES ESE FONDO 😭😭😭😭😭
#do i want nightmare freddy or however he was called in the series singing Måneskin songs bc i think hes hot? yes#but seriously though#it does fit them better than a fUCKING SNK SONG COVER 😭😭😭#i love the original nightmares song dont get me wrong. but#a buncha punkrockers singing a SHINGEKI NO KYOJIN SPANISH COVER does not fit together bestie#what was edochan even fucking thinking 😭😭😭#fucking. wolf in sheeps clothing couldve EASILY worked for the nightmares instead of giving it to freddy and fred#also (and very random) WHY were no nightmare guys (like. the whole band except nightmare mangle) in the B.O.Y.S???#BROTHER NIGHTMARE FREDDY FITS IN NICELY WITH YOUR SECOND HAND ONE DIRECTION#instead we got felix fox fred springtrap and NO ONE who would actually dare to throw a punch at a cop. depressing#FRED ISNT EVEN A PERSON. THAT WAS FREDDYS UNDIAGNOSED MENTAL ILLNESS 😭😭😭😭#so we got the token gay guy (felix). the bad boy with a good heart (springtrap. fucking ironic). the tsundere bad boy (fox).#and freddys undiagnosed mental illness (fred). great#and NONE OF THEM would have the courage to throw a punch at a cop. or a brick at a cop car. depressing#this is why the nightmares were always the best band group in the whole series. if theyd been the protagonists the story wouldve ended quick#like. nightmare freddy would've EASILY made owynn eat concrete if he tried his bs with nightmare freddys band#NIGHTMARE CHICA AND NIGHTMARE BONNIE WOULDVE KNOCKED THE TEETH OUT OF OWYNNS HEAD#nightmare mangle wouldve MASSACRED that scrawny villain twink and probably torn the braid out of his head i think#so in short: the nightmares should sing a Måneskin song + theyre the best band in that series. i wont be debated om this issue 👍
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inknopewetrust · 4 months ago
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𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐀𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐝—𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮�� 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 [𝐀𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫] [𝐰𝐜: 3.5k]
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝟏𝟖+, 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯, 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤.
𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬: 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒
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The band had long ceased playing.
As the strings of confetti laid scattered on the floor and the lingering drips of spilled champagne stained the linens, the new year had rung in with a start. London was electric; buzzing in the underground of the darkest shadows—there was nothing more thrilling.
For a deal had been struck as smiles beamed.
And Alfie Solomons had never felt so alive when the guests dispersed and he sat at a vacant table in the golden light. A cigar burning in his hand, the man leaned back on his chair in victory.
The tendrils of smoke swirled in the air; dancing around his face and into the room. It carved him as a Prometheus of men—Camden’s king that gave and protected those who needed it most.
He intrigued you, Alfie Solomons.
A ruggedly handsome man with the mouth of a foul sailor. He had eyed every person in the room before they could clock him but he was never difficult to miss, not after how much Tommy had talked him up.
It would be easy, he said, charming the socks of Alfie to warm a deal between the two sleuths.
Easy was an understated word when the night had worn thin and all you had done from your table of rich ladies and their scrawny men was stare at him. He’d caught your eye one too many times as you tried to gain his attention throughout the night—but he never made his way to you.
You knew there was no doubting he knew you worked with Tommy, that you were being used in a way to sweeten prospects with batting eyelashes and a dress that dipped a little too low in the front. Alfie had seen that before. The desperate nature of a con too important to lose.
It was why when the guests had left the building and the music had stopped he remained. You’d left to powder your nose, he’d heard your excuse to a woman at your table who happened to be the wife of an employee. He sent his snakes far too. Tommy wasn’t the only one who played for keeps.
When you re-entered the space, Alfie sat at the table with the smoke billowing around him in puffs. His cane slanted against the table while his legs spread wide, thick thighs resting themselves on the chair in welcome.
He teased absentmindedly. He was erotic when he tried not to be, more so as you looked upon him from your perch in the hall.
You thanked Tommy endlessly for sending you. This line of business wasn’t hard work when the goal was a specimen like Alfie was. You stood in the doorway with confidence faltering under the surface and leaned against the wall as seductively as you could imagine.
Yet Alfie said nothing.
He continued to smoke at his cigar with the knowledge of you standing there. You felt your heartbeat pick up.
You shifted on your feet, crossing them together and pulling your hands behind your back. It popped your hip out to the side and for a brief moment, you swore Alfie’s chest lifted in a scoff but he sat too far from you. You truly couldn’t tell.
He smoked for another eternity, a minute perhaps before inhaling dramatically and blowing it out again.
“And to what,” his messy drawl was thick, “do I owe the pleasure of your company, Miss—“
“I think you know why I’m here,” you answered in kind. He shrugged his shoulder casually.
“Perhaps. But Tommy ain’t exactly a friend,” his eyes narrowed a bit. “If you know what I mean?”
“He’s not asking to be your friend, Mr. Solomons. He wanted to ensure the deal was final.”
Alfie stuck the cigar between his lips. “I see he won’t be doin’ that ‘emself now?”
“No,” you smiled abashedly. It was cute, he thought, how you played so innocently at this larger game. “He knew your interests lie elsewhere.”
The smoke blew once more. He put out the cigar on a glass tray on the table before beckoning you with two fingers.
You might as well have floated against the wooden floors of the room as you approached. Hips swaying, shoes echoing in the room. You traversed the tinsel and confetti and spilled champagne to meet his table and rest in front of him. Alfie was shameless in the way he let his eyes wander. Slow and unforgiving, he could see everything if he wanted to and this was a kind of gift from Tommy—you.
You were close to the operations of the Shelby’s. He had heard about this woman, as beautiful as you, being as ruthless in Birmingham as the brothers. He knew your name, your family, your history even if he played it off as not. A childhood friend, Alfie supposed, brought on to pull strings in ways only women knew how.
He imagined you like Polly—cunning with a tongue and if you let the slit in your dress draw apart, maybe with other bits of you as well.
“The word from Thomas?” Alfie asked gruffly. You set your small bag down on the table beside you and rested a hand on your waist.
“Three boats from Camden Yard every morning for a month,” you reminded him. The details of the deal were boring, listed off like a grocery list of things to do or get and the most relief you felt that entire evening is when you finally stopped talking.
“How does he plan to have the payment delivered?”
“Through me.”
Alfie hummed. He looked around the room, mind already aware of the deal being sealed and delivered to Tommy by one of his own men in that very moment. He’d sent one of his finest to Birmingham on the off chance the one Tommy had sent was less than capable.
Alfie could admit he was wrong in such an assumption.
“You know,” Alfie shifted in his seat to widen his legs. The expanse of his stance, the seat directed towards you had your eyes trailing his torso, falling square to his crotch and back up to him. His arms rested at his thighs. Hands flat and rough. “This is our new beginning, here in Camden.”
“Shana Tovah, Mr. Solomons.”
“Did he ask you to study? He knew it was a holiday. The Shelby’s aren’t Jews.”
“I think you underestimate our worldly knowledge, Mr.—“
“Alfie,” he corrected.
“—Alfie,” you repeated. “Birmingham isn’t a shithole all the time. We are cultured people.”
Alfie smiled slightly, turning his head away to gaze at the entry way. “Eh,” he grunted. “It’s all shit if you really think ‘bout it.”
You looked down at him as he sat and he peered back at you. His eyes shadowed by his hat in the shimmer of the light.
“Why you still ‘ere?” He tested. “I can’t imagine you sneakin’ around for some challah when the cooks have gone on home.”
You adjusted your stance on your leg causing your dress to ripple. His eyes flickered in the dark.
“Tommy send you to seduce me, treacle?”
Treacle. You’d never heard someone use that word before. You ran your tongue over your lip as it jutted out to clear the dryness that manifested.
You weren’t nervous, per se. But Alfie was a strong, loud man who was more than capable of sending a message to his friends, or enemies, without remorse.
It enticed you—He enticed you greatly. The danger, the selfless anger that rested under his thick skin.
“No,” you answered honestly. “I fear I may be doing that myself.”
“There ain’t anyone here any more.” Alfie only looked at you. His eyes underneath the shadows swallowed you whole. They drew you in and spit you back out.
“Oh?” You feigned obliviousness. You knew everyone had left as well.
Alfie rubbed his hands over his thighs in warmth. His fingers danced along the tops of them.
“Step closer,” he ordered.
Without hesitation, you stepped closer and closer until you stood between his open legs and you could feel the heat radiating off of him. You could smell the cigar, his scent strong and burly.
“I’m sure you’ve heard what kind of man I am.”
“No more horrible than the rest.”
“What would Thomas say, eh?” He leaned his head backwards to look up at you. His fingertips twitched against his pants in want. “That his little friend is so willing.”
“I didn’t say I was willing.”
Alfie’s smile barely ghosted his face. Amused, he flicked down to your breasts and back up to your face.
“Your body says otherwise, love.”
He could see your nipples pert against he fabric of your dress. Your chest rose and fell erratically.
“Tommy sent me to ensure the deal was final, that is all, Alfie. I do not need to entertain you to see it through.”
“But you chose this beautiful dress,” he lifted a hand dramatically. It grazed the side of your body to feel the silken fabric that laid over the parts he wished to see further. “And these women,” he motioned to the empty room, “don’t dress like you.”
“Well they follow a different code than I.”
“And what else does that code allow?”
Alfie had yet to drop his hand. It played at the fabric that hung at your hip. He pinched it between his fingers and tugged gently.
“It depends on what the caller is asking of her,” you proposed and took his other hand into your own.
His hands were bigger than yours by a mile. Rough and calloused from his life, Alfie allowed you to overturn it and caress it in your touch. He watched your eyes, not your motions as you dragged his hand up toward your body, resting his hand not tightly gripping your dress on the space on your chest not covered by clothing.
Your skin was hot to the touch. It burned him as he felt the softness so different from his own.
“I do feel a bit cold, yeah?” He questioned and in an instant brought you down onto his lap and in a scramble of legs to straddle him.
Legs now on either side of his thick thighs, you sunk to rest your core where the zipper of his trousers began to bulge.
Alfie breathed you in deeply. His gripped turned bruising as you wrapped one arm around him and the other hand reseted on his chest.
“Why Mr. Solomons,” you snickered, “this is a bit forward.”
“Says you.” His hand slipped from you uncovered chest to one of your breasts and squeezed then soothed over the pebbling bud. “Don’t know the game your playin’, love. It’d be a dangerous one for a girl like you.”
You smiled at him. Tilting your head into his, you shuttered a breath as he slipped the dress from your shoulder and let the fabric fall to reveal you to him. You shifted your hips on top of his to feel his growing sensation.
“I know my game, Alfie,” your lips barely grazed his. He chased it, nipping your bottom lip and for a moment you thought yourself crazy for acting such a way with a man like him. “Do you know yours?”
Alfie responded by meeting his lips with yours abruptly. The hand on his chest cupped his face while his simply wandered along you. His beard was long and tickling your skin as he begged to dominate your mouth with his own. You tipped his hat off and laid it on the table before pulling away with a pop.
“My God, woman,” Alfie mumbled. You rolled your hips against his softly. He moved both of his hands to grasp the sides of you and encouraged you to grind against him. Your dress fell further down your chest and bore your luscious tits to him.
You entranced him with your movements. The roll of your body, the jiggle of your breasts as you moved. He grew hard under you and his palms wandered further to gather your dress at your waist.
“You were prepared, eh?” He commented lowly at the absence of your underwear.
“I took my chances.”
One of his thumbs met your core and found your clit quickly to rub circles at the pace of your thrusts. Your body jolted at the feeling. You were out of your mind, letting him pleasure you. Yet you didn’t say no. You couldn’t say no when you were so enraptured by his entire presence.
He was thick and heavy in his trousers which only stirred you further.
Alfie circled your clit ferociously. Meticulous and rapid, he wound up the coil within you to the point of no return. His thumb gathered the wetness greedily. You cupped his head, nearly swaying him as you lost yourself and inclined your head backward as your eyelids drooped.
“Alfie…” your voice was barely above a whisper as it hitched. He had found a good spot. One so tender and reactive. He grinned slyly.
You moved to undo the belt of his pants and slid it out from the loops the best you could. He hadn’t worn suspenders or an absurd amount of vests to add to the layers. Fingers deftly popping him open and carving the lines of his cock with your hand, you worked him out of the trousers and into your palm.
“You feel plenty warm to me,” you suggested with a purr.
Alfie sat up straighter. The advantage catching the back of your neck and drawing your lips to his again. You groaned into his mouth; savoring the feeling of your lips on his as his breath mingled with yours.
You stroked him lazily in your hand while he was more deliberate in pleasuring you.
Alfie’s mouth trailed along the sides of your neck. He left foul, bruising kissed on the column as he made his way down to your tits again and took a nipple inbetween his mouth. He pulled back, gently biting it between his teeth and letting go with a tug.
“You were right, Alfie,” you breathed in heavily. Rolling your hips against his hand, you had the sudden urge to have him inside of you. “I have heard the stories about the kind of man you are.”
“And? I don’t suppose you give a fuck about them now, love.”
“No,” you smiled shyly. “But I would be lying if I wasn’t interested in the things I’d heard.”
Your ran you thumb over the head of his cock to wipe at the cum that had leaked out of hum. Smoothing it over and down his shaft, he might as well have shivered at the sensation.
“I am more interested in the man I haven’t heard about. The one like this.”
Alfie quirked a brow and stopped his movements. He helped lift you slightly, taking control of his dick as his hand replaced yours and ran it along your slit.
“You wanna be my lover? A gy—“
You shushed him with a kiss. “I didn’t say that, Mr. Solomons. It’s not something anyone needs to know of.”
“Too dangerous, treacle.” He swiped his cock’s head along you clit and you could feel the blood rushing, the heartbeat that pulsed as hard as the one in your chest. “I’m not in the business of leading women as beautiful as you to an early grave.”
You shook your head gently. “I don’t believe you.”
Alfie hummed and with it, pushed the head of himself into your aching pussy that had been warmed by his previous ministrations and he was taken by the way your mouth fell agape. Shoulders relaxing and falling as you took him in as much as you could before pushing further; further and further until there was nothing more left to take of him and you took him fully.
“No,” Alfie said deeply. His chest rumbled with the word and echoed as far into the room as it could reach. He didn’t allow you to adjust yourself on his cock. Alfie held your hips down and made you sit there, still.
“I don’t believe myself either.”
He relished the way your cunt swallowed him. Alfie’s mind wondered if all of your holes could take him the same and in the times you’d come to Camden to collect the payments on behalf of Tommy, he’d be able to explore all the scenarios that plagued his mind as you clenched down on him and gripped him tightly. So warm and inviting, he could stay like that forever and if this was the feeling of your first meeting, he wasn’t romantic enough to consider how he’d feel after your tenth, twentieth, or more.
Alfie’s mind traveled to you kneeling under his desk and taking his cock in your mouth; feeling you spread out before him on a table in the distillery room and watching you gush around him. He could see himself under covers in the dark pleasuring you with his mouth and the taste of you on his tongue. In the tub with your back against his and the water splashing over the sides and if he was lucky, as the sun broke the horizon in Margate in his house by the sea.
As he let you sit on him and rake your fingers through his short hair, he caressed your sides and backs of your thighs as the muscles trembled.
“When you collect the money,” he whispered as much as a man like he could, “come straight to the bakery. Go to the office and if I am not there, do not let anyone in who knocks.”
“Afraid of what your men will do to me?” You questioned and his grip tightened.
“They’d be fuckin’ idiots to try.”
You learned quickly that Alfie Solomons loved to kiss you. He enjoyed the feeling of your lips on his and the selfless way you let him take control of you. He pushed the boundaries of comfort and with his cock still inside of you hard and pulsing with want, it was hard to imagine letting another man touch you in the same way.
“You come straight to me. You take the money and I’ll leave you walkin’ funny till you return to those fuckin’ Shelby’s so they know who you belong to.”
You pulled Alfie in close around his shoulders. He loosened his grasp on your hips as you lifted yourself up. His cock coated in your slick slid along your walls and before you lost him completely, you sunk down on him again and he guided you with ease every bounce you made.
You barely squeaked as his dick filled you. Thick and long, he was exactly as you’d imagined him to be based on the man you’d heard so much about. His large thighs supported your weight and he complained not about any part of you that you’d deem less than perfect.
Letting Alfie maneuver you, you leaned back onto his thighs and your hands placed themselves on his knee caps and allowed the space between you to be viewed completely by the man. He watched you sink onto him. Watching as you took him with languid rolls and calculated moves that barely drew a sweat on your brow. He held onto you tightly and helped speed up the movements as he pulled you into him once twice and then repeatedly.
The sounds of your pleasure were lewd. For anyone could waltz in and see you both openly fucking in the dining hall of the beautiful building but they wouldn’t. The sun had long set, the doors long had been locked and all that was left was you and Alfie left to settle a score.
And it was building rapidly.
Too much. It was overstimulating—the force of his actions and the long drawl of his cock against your plush walls. You were soaked. Soaking him and his trousers that were barely pushed down enough to set him free. Your body trembled as the quick revelation of your orgasm approached. Gripping his knees so tightly your nails dug into the caps, you couldn’t help the yelps turned into weak, whimpering moans that spilled from your lips.
Alfie muttered words of mere nothing at the quake of your thighs. Your stomach’s muscles tightened and with a jolt, you lurched forward and clung onto his shoulders as your release reached its peak. Your pussy clenched down on his cock with all the strength it could in the moments between your tremors. Alfie sore disorienting profanities as your orgasm threatened his own.
He wanted to pull out. He didn’t need more on his plate than what he already had and certainly not any child that bound him to the Shelby LLC for eternity. Alfie huffed, breathing through his teeth as he lifted you up slightly and barely managed to empty himself onto your stomach and bits of your dress.
You watched as his release waded down your body and his hold loosened greatly at his finish.
“So,” Alfie spoke lowly. “Do I have your word?”
“Of what?” You responded breathlessly. He grinned at your fucked out face. The way you could barely hold yourself upright even if it wasn’t the most intense fuck either of you had ever had.
“You come straight to me, got it?”
And well, Mr. Alfie Solomons didn’t have to ask twice.
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Happy almost end of Kinktober! I’m trying my best to get all the fics out that I’ve promised. I’ve never written for Alfie before but I love the character so much that I’d thought I’d give it a try. As always, it is so much appreciated that you leave a like, a comment OR a reblog (I like the last two the best!) thank you for reading and free to check out any of my other works.
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ramblingsfromthytruly · 3 months ago
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YOU DON'T LIKE MY CLOTHES BUT STILL LIKE MY SMILE
SCRAWNY MOTHERFUCKER WITH A COOL HAIRSTYLE
TAKE ME HOME TO MOM BUT IT'LL TAKE A WHILE
SCRAWNY MOTHERFUCKER WITH A COOL HAIRSTYLE
THEY MIGHT THINK THEY'RE COOLER THAN ME BY A MILE
SCRAWNY MOTHERFUCKER WITH A COOL HAIRSTYLE
I CAN STILL HAVE WISDOM AND LOOK LIKE A CHILD
SCRAWNY MOTHERFUCKER WITH A COOL HAIRSTYLE
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oceantornadoo · 8 months ago
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you: an absolute teeth-aching bone deep want to be loved and to give love. that hollow feeling behind your chest is too familiar and you want it gone. you just want to be in love, to treat someone with gentleness and to be wanted.
your 141 bae who has been in love with you since the moment he met you: ...i'm right here
gn!reader headcanons below the cut:
childhood best friend simon: let's say you knew him before he lost his family. a scrawny-limbed blond, always willing to extend a trip to the park or a cigarette behind school - anything to not go home. you'd visit him when he started part-time as a butcher in high school, wrinkling your nose at the smell of bloody meat but staying anyways, doing your homework at the singular table in the shop. he was there when you moved away from town, for college or a new job or any life-altering decision that he was secondary to, something simon could only hope to grasp. once he leaves for the military, you mourn your relationship and move on. simon is a blur in your mind, a reminder of snow days and sweet tea summers and leaf piles and dandelion picking, on a nostalgic shelf in the untouched corners of your brain. ten years later, you've finally made a name for yourself and truly gotten out; grown roots. but you still have this soul-deep yearning, some unfamiliar-shaped hole in your chest that miraculously fills when you open your door to simon, a grown man who's tired of wanting you from afar. tired of stalking your social media and writing fantasies in his head. tired of picking people to fuck just because they look like you, then going soft halfway through because their voice isn't the right pitch. he's here, and he's ready to do whatever it takes.
best friend gaz: now this is different from a childhood best friend, so keep that in mind. gaz is always this guy-next-door type with a panty-dropping smile and impeccable manners. this notion does him some good, helps him avoid some deep-rooted british military prejudices, but it also turns you away. you check him off as nice and place him in the best friend box. you don't understand how he tracks your every move on a mission, almost always getting caught by johnny or price. you miss how he grips his pint ten times harder when he sees you on the pub floor, dancing with some stranger whose hands are a bit too low. he tells you he gets rejected for being "too nice", but really, he ignores his 27 unread DMs and flirty cafe eye contact in favor of movie nights, prank wars, your shitty reality shows. he's grasping onto straws, can't you see sweetheart? when you're drunk and turn into a cuddler, he can pretend just for a second that you truly mean it. gaz lets your hands wander under his shirt, lets you murmur your darkest fear of never being loved into the quietness of your room, leaving you to sleep on top of your covers with a kiss to the forehead. he doesn't know what's pushed him over: you almost dying on that last mission, you making out with a stranger in a bar, you you you in those pants and that shirt and that's it. he has to say something. has to put it all on the line because gaz can't live like this anymore.
best friend's brother price: it was some one-sided crush, your best friend's brother with his suave teenage ways as compared to your brutal tween phase, acne and braces on the way. it had dissipated quickly, john never the wiser, his presence substituted with trendy band obsessions and first kisses. instead, it happened at your best friend's wedding. you were both in the wedding party, some object of fate throwing you together as your best friend forced you two to dance. you were tipsy on champagne, on the happiness of marriage, that you giddily admitted your fleeting childhood crush and how much john had grown since then. and that was it. john was always going to settle down, always going to have a pretty thing waiting for him back home, he just didn't figure out until right now that it would be you. he tries to hide his affections under friendliness, not wanting to ruin your friendship with his sibling, but john has never been discrete. he's suddenly invading your life with offers of fixing your kitchen sink, painting that one spot you can't reach, moving your couch to fit your latest pinterest board. you're practically family, love - which kills all your hopes for something more, feeling like a familyzone. but john means it differently, means you're predestined to be his, already accepted and loved by his loved ones and how could he not see it before? you refuse to accept his kindness and it absolutely kills him, so he scares off potential dates and any chance of meet-cutes with an arm around your waist and why can't you see him the way he sees you?
friends with benefits johnny: it was just sex, right? you'd been the one to say it, the one to set that boundary with your fellow sergeant. you didn't think johnny was capable of more, mistaking his cheeky smirks and booming laugh for being unserious, when in reality, johnny is as serious as it gets. he tells himself he can fuck you because he'll marry you one day, that cross sitting heavy under his shirts. he doesn't wash his sheets for weeks after that first fuck, too busy inhaling the scent of you cumming around his mouth, his cock. that is, until, you tell him his sheets stink and refuse to fuck him and he pretends you're having an argument as a married couple, all intimate and bored. johnny sees a recruit getting too flirty and pulls you into a supply closet using his best distraction methods. he sways you from joining a month's long solo mission, some stupid excuse about missing your lips too much when really he knows it's a suicide mission. johnny forces you to stay over after a midnight fuck, some bullshit about simon being up at that time and seeing you in the hallway on base. in reality, he treasures cuddling you with his brawny arms, pretending you're his willingly. pretending he's made peace with you, this wild creature, never tamed but understood. he can't force himself to ask for more, too scared to lose the crumbs he's holding onto. johnny tries to hide it with a fiery personality and a thick accent, but inside? he's a complete goner.
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corruptedcaps · 23 days ago
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Better the Devil You Know
This is inspired by @rylem33 multi-ending story that can be read here.
Victor had always been the kind of guy who blended into the background. He was scrawny, awkward, and perpetually nervous, with glasses that always seemed to slide down his nose at the worst possible moments.
His best friend, Lily, was the only person who truly understood him. She was just as dorky as he was, obsessed with comic books, bad puns, and obscure indie bands. Victor had been in love with her for years, but he could never muster the courage to tell her. Every time he tried, his voice would crack, or he’d trip over his words, and he’d end up laughing it off like it was some big joke.
But one night, after yet another failed attempt to confess his feelings, Victor sat alone in his dimly lit apartment, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He hated what he saw. Weak. Pathetic. Unworthy. He clenched his fists and muttered to himself, “I’d give anything to be strong. To be confident. To be the kind of guy Lily could actually want.”
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That’s when the room grew cold, and the air seemed to hum with an otherworldly energy. A voice, deep and smooth, echoed from the shadows. “Anything, you say?”
Victor spun around, his heart racing. Standing before him was a man, or at least, something that looked like a man. He was impossibly tall, with sharp features, piercing red eyes, and a smirk that could only be described as devilish. His suit was tailored to perfection, and he exuded an sense of power and confidence that made Victor feel even smaller than usual.
“W-who are you?” Victor stammered, taking a step back.
The man chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent shivers down Victor’s spine. “Let’s just say I’m your neighbour downstairs. Way downstairs and I’m here to give you exactly what you want. Strength. Confidence. The kind of looks that turn heads. All you have to do is agree to my terms.”
Victor’s mouth went dry. “What terms?”
The devil grinned, revealing teeth that were just a little too sharp. “Your soul, of course. A small price to pay for the life you’ve always dreamed of, don’t you think?”
Victor hesitated. His soul? That sounded… bad. But then he thought of Lily, of how she deserved someone who wasn’t a walking disaster. Someone who could sweep her off her feet. Someone who wasn’t him.
“Deal.” Victor said, his voice trembling but resolute.
The devil’s grin widened. “Excellent.”
The transformation was immediate. Victor felt a surge of power course through his veins, his scrawny frame filling out with muscle, his posture straightening, his jawline sharpening. His glasses disappeared, replaced by perfect vision, and his once-mousy hair became thick and lustrous. He looked in the mirror and barely recognized himself. He was… handsome. Confident. Strong.
But something felt off. There was a coldness in his chest, a void where his heart used to be. He shook it off. This was what he wanted, right? This was what he needed.
Victor decided to find Lily. He knew she’d be at their favorite coffee shop, the one with the mismatched chairs and the barista who always messed up their orders. He stood outside, peering through the window from a nearby alley, and spotted her sitting at their usual table. She was wearing her favorite oversized sweater, her nose buried in a book, her glasses slipping down her face just like his used to.
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As he watched her, a strange feeling washed over him. The warmth he usually felt when he saw her was gone. Instead, he felt… disgust. Her dorky clothes, her awkward mannerisms, her frizzy hair, it all seemed so… unappealing. What had he ever seen in her?
“Quite the sight, isn’t she?” a familiar voice purred beside him.
Victor turned to see the devil standing there, his red eyes gleaming with amusement. “I don’t understand.” Victor said, his voice tight. “Why do I feel this way? Lily’s… she’s everything I ever wanted.”
The devil chuckled, a sound that sent a chill down Victor’s spine. “Oh, Victor. You wanted strength, confidence, and beauty. And I gave it to you. But in exchange, I took your soul. And without your soul, you’ve lost any interest in nice girls like Lily.”
Victor’s stomach churned. “But… I did this for her. To be good enough for her.”
The devil smirked. “And now you’re too good for her. Isn’t that ironic? You only want supermodels and beauty queens now. Vapid mean bitches who would bully girls like Lily, isn’t that right?”
Victor stared through the window at Lily, feeling nothing but disgust for her. His eyes drifted to the leggy blonde who was berating the barista for now getting her order right. The devil was right, his desires were different. They were better. And yet he was angered that he had been tricked so easily.
Victor clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. “This isn’t what I wanted.”
The devil laughed, a sound that echoed in the empty alley. “Oh, but it is. You just didn’t know it. But tell you what, I’m feeling generous. I’ll grant you one more wish. You can use it to reverse what you’ve become, to go back to being that weak, dorky man who loved Lily. Or… you can use it to change her. Mold her into the kind of woman you desire now. The choice is yours.”
Victor’s mind raced. Reverse what he’d become? Go back to being the guy who couldn’t even look Lily in the eye? Or change her, twist her into someone who fit his new, soulless desires? Surely there would be a catch to whatever he had chosen. He needed to outsmart the devil. Maybe there was a third option.
“I can make any wish?” Victor asked, his voice low and steady.
The devil’s grin faltered for the first time. “Of course. Anything you desire.”
“And this wish is permanent, no reversals, no changes?” Victor asked in a way that made the devil suddenly wary.
“Yes of course, ironclad.” The devil replied, somehow unsure of what Victor was about to ask.
Victor’s eyes gleamed with a dark, dangerous light. “Then I wish to be you. I wish to have the power, the station and knowledge that you have. I wish I was the devil!”
The devil blinked, his smirk vanishing. “What? No, that’s… you can’t wish for that. That’s not how this works.”
But it was too late. Victor felt a surge of power unlike anything he’d ever experienced. The air around him crackled with energy, and the devil staggered back, his form flickering like a dying flame.
“What… no this isn’t possible! I won’t allow it!” The devil stammered, his voice tinged with panic.
Victor laughed, a deep, menacing sound that echoed through the street. “You said any wish. You said it would be ironclad. Not even you can stop it!”
The devil’s body began to disintegrate, his power flowing into Victor like a river of darkness. “No! This is impossible! You can’t—!”
But his protests were cut short as his form crumbled to dust, his essence absorbed entirely by Victor. The alley fell silent, the only sound the faint hum of power radiating from Victor’s body. He looked down at his hands, now glowing with an otherworldly energy, and let out a cackle that sent shivers through the very fabric of reality.
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“Oh, this is going to be fun.” Victor said, his voice dripping with malice. He turned back to the coffee shop, where Lily still sat, oblivious to the chaos that had just unfolded.
The sight of her still disgusted him and she was the last thing he desired but as he looked at the bitchy blonde still arguing with the barista he also felt a cold disdain. He knew what he wanted instead, and he was going to get it.
Victor strode into the coffee shop with a confidence that turned heads. His presence was magnetic, his aura dark and commanding. He spotted Lily sitting in their usual corner, her nose buried in a book, her oversized sweater swallowing her frame. She looked up as he approached, her eyes widening in surprise.
"Victor? Is that you?" She asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.
He smirked, sliding into the seat across from her. "In the flesh. Or something like it."
Lily blinked, adjusting her glasses. "You look… wow. Have you been working out?"
Victor chuckled, a low, menacing sound. "You could say that. But enough about me. Let's talk about you."
Lily frowned, sensing something off in his tone. "What about me?"
Victor leaned back, his eyes scanning the room. He gestured to a group of women at a nearby table, their legs long and toned, their hair perfectly styled, their makeup flawless. "Don't you wish you had legs like those? Or hair like that? Or maybe… lips like hers?" He pointed to another woman, her pouty lips glistening with gloss.
Lily's cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger. "Victor, what the hell are you talking about?"
He turned his gaze back to her, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. "I'm just saying, Lily. You could be so much more. Don't you wish to be the kind of woman who turns heads? The kind of woman who gets whatever she wants?"
Lily crossed her arms, her voice firm. "I like who I am, Victor. I don't need to change for anyone."
Victor's smirk widened. "Oh, but you do. You just don't realize it yet."
Lily stood up, her chair scraping against the floor. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but I don't like it. I'm leaving."
As she turned to go, she stopped in her tracks, her eyes welling up. Turning around she looked Victor in his eyes. "All I ever wished was to be the woman you wanted!"
The words hung in the air, and Lily stood steadfast as if waiting for a response from him, something to show a glimmer of humanity. Instead his eyes glowed a deep, fiery red, and the world around them seemed to freeze. The chatter of the coffee shop faded into silence, the other patrons frozen in place. Lily's breath caught in her throat as she realized something was terribly wrong.
"As you wish." Victor said, his voice echoing with power as he snapped his fingers.
Lily's body began to convulse, her limbs twisting and contorting as an unseen force took hold of her. She gasped, her hands flying to her head as her hair began to change. The frizzy, unkempt locks smoothed and straightened, turning into a cascade of silky, jet-black strands that shimmered with an unnatural sheen.
"Oh God, what's happening to me?" Lily moaned, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and pleasure.
Her lips plumped and darkened, becoming full and pouty, as if kissed by the devil himself. Her skin smoothed and tightened, her cheeks hollowing out to create a more angular, striking appearance. Her breasts swelled, filling out her sweater until it strained against her new curves.
"Victor, please… stop…" She begged, but her voice was weak, her protests half-hearted as a strange warmth spread through her body. “Mmm fuck please DONT stop!”
Her nails elongated, turning into sharp, perfectly manicured claws painted a darker than dark black. Her makeup appeared as if by magic, her eyes lined with dark, smoky shadow, her lashes long and thick.
But the changes weren't just physical. Lily's mind was being twisted, her thoughts clouded by a dark, seductive force. Her once-kind heart began to blacken, her desires shifting from the simple joys of life to a hunger for power, attention, and control.
"Oh… oh my God…" Lily moaned, her body arching as the transformation reached its peak. "This feels… incredible…"
Victor watched with a satisfied smirk, his eyes glowing brighter as Lily's soul was slowly corrupted. "That's it, Lily. Embrace it. Become the bad bitch buried inside."
Lily's moans turned into a low, sultry laugh as the transformation completed. She straightened, her new body radiating cruel confidence. She looked down at herself, running her hands over her curves, a wicked smile spreading across her face.
"Holy shit!" She breathed, her voice now a sultry purr. "I look fucking amazing."
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Victor leaned back, his grin widening. "You do. And now, the world is yours for the taking."
Lily's eyes met his, and for a moment, there was a flicker of her old self, a hint of the dorky, kind-hearted woman she used to be. But it was quickly extinguished, replaced by a cold, calculating gaze.
"Fuck yeah, it is," she said, her voice dripping with malice. "Let's see what this new me can do."
Victor laughed, a deep, menacing sound that echoed through the frozen coffee shop. "That's my girl."
Victor's hand snapped out, grabbing Lily by the waist and yanking her against him. Their lips crashed together in a searing, possessive kiss-all teeth and hunger, a collision of two corrupted souls. Lily pulled back after a moment, her new black lips curling into a smirk as she stared into his glowing red eyes.
"About fucking time!" She purred, her voice dripping with venomous desire. Before Victor could react, she shoved him backward onto the coffee shop table, sending frozen cups and saucers shattering to the floor. His shirt tore open under her clawed nails, revealing his chiseled, inhumanly perfect torso.
"Fuck, Lily-" Victor growled, but she cut him off with a sharp laugh, her gaze raking over him.
"Lily is dead baby. Call me Lilith. But enough about me, look at you." She breathed, her fingers trailing down his abs to the waistband of his pants. "All that power... but does that power extend lower?" She undid his belt with a flick of her sharp nails, freeing his thick, veiny, and impossibly large cock. Her breath hitched, a flicker of her old self surfacing in her widened eyes. "Jesus Anti-Christ, Victor. You're fucking monstrous."
But the shock melted into hunger. Lilith dropped to her knees, her new jet-black hair spilling over his thighs as she took him into her mouth with a low, greedy moan. Victor threw his head back, a ragged groan tearing from his throat as her tongue swirled and her lips tightened.
"That's it!" He snarled, tangling his hands in her hair. "Suck your devil's cock like you were made for it."
Lilith hummed in response, the vibration drawing a loud growl from him. Her nails dug into his hips as she took him deeper, her moans muffled but relentless. When he tensed, nearing the edge, she pulled back with a wet pop, her lips glistening.
"Not yet." She whispered, climbing onto the table and straddling him. Her new body-all curves and lethal grace-hovered over his, her skirt riding up. "I want to feel you ruin me."
Victor gripped her hips, his claws pricking her skin. "Then ruin yourself on me!" He commanded.
Lilith sank down onto him with a scream of pleasure, her back arching as he filled her. "Fuck-Victor!"
"That's Lord Victor to you now." He growled, thrusting up into her. The table beneath them splintered, but neither noticed. The air around them began to smolder, flames licking up from the floorboards as their rhythm turned frantic, their moans mingling with the crackle of fire.
"You feel that?" Victor hissed, his hands roaming her skin. "That's hellfire, baby."
Lilith rode him harder, her nails raking his chest as the flames coiled around them. "Burn with me, baby! Burn!"
The fire erupted, engulfing them in a vortex of heat and ash. Their clothes disintegrated, leaving them naked. It didn’t pause their sinful act one moment. If anything it just ignited their passion even more.
“Mmmm fuck my lord! Cum inside me! Make me feel the fires of hell inside me!” Lilith groaned that was more demanding than requesting.
“Yessss! I’ll make you my queen! The queen of darkness! Together we’ll rule hell and then, the world!” Victor cried, thrusting harder.
“I’ll be such a wicked bitch! I’ll be your wicked bitch! Do it baby! Do it now! I can’t wait anymore!” Lilith said moving her hips in a way that made their orgasms inevitable.
They climaxed together, a roar of infernal power shaking the coffee shop to its foundations. The flames siphoned into their bodies, filling each with immense power that exploded out and wrapped each in new clothing.
Lilith's new outfit clung to her like a second skin. A shorter than short black latex dress with crossed straps. Fishnets flowed up her legs and 8 inch studded shoes wrapped around her feet. Her black hair took on the colour of the fire itself, giving her a dangerously red look.
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Victor's own attire was a mirror of dark power. A tailored coat, a collar of flames, and a smirk that could damn nations. His suit gave off an otherworldly sheen that was as mesmerizing as it was handsome.
Lilith collapsed against him, her eyes now a burning red like his own. Her lips brushing his ear. "Well that was... hot."
Victor smiled at her weak joke. "You're the Mistress of Evil and yet your jokes haven't improved."
Lilith dug her now longer nails into his chest, drawing blood while smiling manically. "I'm everything you desired me to be, bad puns and all."
Victor looked at her. Her fiery red hair, her dark gorgeous lips, her evil eyes. He was more in love with her now that he had ever been before. "I sold my soul to have you, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat."
"Well you literally own my soul now so I'm not going anywhere my lord." Lilith said with a wicked smile that Victor knew would make him scorch the earth if she asked.
Standing up off the table, Victor stretched out his hand for his new queen to take which she did without hesitation.
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"What now, my love?" She asked, ambition in her eyes.
Victor gripped her by her waist, not gently, and kissed her until her toes curled. "Now," he said, "we rule."
Fire erupted from the floorboards beneath them, wrapping around them, consuming them and then suddenly with a poof, they were gone. Moments later, the frozen coffee shop sprang to life again with it's patrons left to wonder why there was suddenly a mess of coffee cups and napkins on the floor and the smell of sulphur and sex in the air.
THE END
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luvfy0dor · 8 months ago
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“His Hands are in my Hair, His Clothes are in my Room ♡⁠˖” BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚
╰┈➤ Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol
Warnings; Nikolais and Chuuyas are hardly proofread, Nikolais was rushed, Nikolais nearly got scrapped, I don't like Nikolais, maybe a little ooc
Description; sharing clothing w the BSD boys
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A/n; GUYS OH MY GOD I GOT A 5 ON MY FIRST AP EXAM IM SO PROUD OF MYSELF AHHHHHH IM GONNA CRY also I'm sorry posts are so few and far between. It's so hot and hard to function. I know I said the exact same thing to excuse minimal posts in winter but like. its literally hot as balls and all I got is a puny ass 8yro fan and the occasional sip of iced water.
Osamu Dazai ★
• Dazai likes to take your old T-shirts to sleep in when you lend them to him for the night. After a few nights of having Dazai at your house, you wonder why your sleep-shirt collection has nearly cut in half.
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You unlocked the door of your apartment and pushed it open with your unoccupied hand. The other arm held a large brown paper bag filled with gas station food and snacks for you and your boyfriend, who followed you inside. Once you set the bag down on the coffee table, you retrieved your keys from the door and closed it. When you came back to the kitchen, Dazai had already dumped everything out and was sifting through all the options. "The walk back from the gas station was hardly five minutes and I've already forgotten everything we got." He says with a grin, opening a bag of chips and eating a couple. He offered you some, holding the bag out to you. "Want some?' He mumbled.
"Yeah, let me just change into pajamas first, I don't wanna do anything until I'm comfortable." You said, shrugging off your jacket and starting to undo your belt before you even make it back to your room. Dazai followed suit, bag of chips still in hand. "Can I borrow some?" You nodded before taking off your shirt and tossing it in the laundry hamper, going through your closet to find a shirt for your boyfriend and yourself. "Thank youuu~" He plops down onto your bed, keeping the chip bag upwards so he doesn't get any crumbs or dust on your nice blankets. He watches you pull one of your band shirts over your head, admiring your body from his position on your mattress. He's snapped out of his daze when black fabric comes flying at him, but he catches it before it can smack him in the face. "Thanks, babe, you're so kind."
He switches his work clothes for your old ones, the big shirt nearly swallowing his scrawny torso comfortably. "Alright, I want snacks, come on." You gesture for him to follow you back out to the kitchen where the array of snacks was waiting for the two of you on the counter. There were numerous kinds of chocolate, and Dazai had grabbed a couple bags of gummies for himself. There were a few more bags of chips for variety, and you scooped everything up in your arms to bring to the living room. You dropped them all on the coffee table and grabbed the remote. "Alright, what movie are we feeling?" You ask, turning to the brunette man. "Uhhhhh, how about an action movie. Somethin' that looks exciting." He says, slinging his arm over your shoulder while he munches on sour gummy worms. Eventually, the two of you decide on a Godzilla movie, slumped against the couch with chocolate residue on the tips of your fingers from your candies. Dazai let out a long sigh as the movie came to a close, leaning into you and resting his head on your shoulder.
You ran your fingers through Dazais messy and slightly greasy hair, scratching his scalp and listening to his pleased, quiet hum. "Are you falling asleep or are you up for another movie?" You ask him, watching the credits roll on the TV. "I'm up for another movie, I just think I might be having a sugar crash." He says, groaning as he sits back up. You nod and grab the remote again, browsing through all the film options. Every now and again, your eyes involuntarily flickered over to your boyfriend, and you couldnt help but smile. He looked really cute in your shirt, and it almost made you wanna treat the movie like chopped liver and cuddle up to him.
"You look really cute." You say, playing whatever movie you absent-mindedly started in your daze. "Oh, I know, right?" He grins running his hand over his body. "As a matter of fact, I've never felt sexier." He teases, moving his eyebrows up and down with a smirk. You can't help but laugh at him. "Let's get you on a playboy cover." Before you know it, he's standing up in front of the TV. "Scrap the movie, you have me for entertainment instead." He puts his hands on his hips and strikes a pose, making you laugh some more. "You want some attention? I mean, I guess since you asked so politely." You stand up with an eye roll and pull him in, kissing him and running a hand down his side. He keeps one hand on your chin, tilting your head to meet his lips, sighing quietly each time your lips part for a quick moment. Soon, you both need more air then small gasps and have to pull away. He smiles and messes with the fabric of your own shirt. "How about we ditch this mess for now and go to bed, yeah? We can continue comfortably there?" He offers, You glance back over at the piles of snacks, opened or not, scattered acrossed the floor. Normally you'd make him help you clean up before doing anything else, but tonight you really couldn't be bothered and just wanted to follow Dazai wherever he'd take you. "Alright, let's go."
Chuuya Nakahara ★
• Everyone knows that Chuuya adores his hat, but not everyone knows he's got a decently sized collection of fancy hats on top of his closet. One day while rummaging around and trying to find one of Chuuyas button downs for him, you notice them all on the top rack.
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"Chuuya, you didn't tell me you had so many hats!" You called out to him, standing back and staring at them all. Chuuya was currently in the bathroom, shaving his peach fuzz to keep his smooth face. "Huh? Oh, yeah, I've got a ton." He calls back, washing the shaving cream off of his skin. "They're pretty..can I try some of 'em on?" You ask, reaching to grab the one on the top of the stack. "Go ahead." He walks out of the bathroom with his towel around his waist, leaning against the doorframe to watch the little fashion show you were about to put on. The first one you grabbed was adorned with flowers of various colors. You placed it on your head and turned around, posing with your hands on your hips.
"What do you think? Vogue worthy?" You ask him. He smiles at you and nods, his arms crossed over his chest. "One hundred percent, that's peak fashion." He says genuinely, standing up straight and walking over to the closet. He reaches up and grabs another hat for you to try, switching it out for the flowers one. This one is a dark, reddish brown color. "This one's cute too." You giggle and head over to the bathroom to see for yourself. "Ooo, I'm not sure this kinda hat is necessarily for me." You giggle. "What do you mean? It looks great on you!" He says, following you in and hugging you from behind. "You only say that because they're your hats." You say, grinning.
"I mean, I guess not everyone is destined to look good in them like me." He says, squeezing your hip. "I gotta actually get ready for work now, I'm probably runnin' late." He says, turning around and dropping his towel. He tossed it into the hamper before getting dressed in his usual attire, spotting the button down that you had forgotten about in favor of his hat collection. "Okayyyy." You yawn, stretching your arms over your head and treading through the bedroom to start your own morning routine. You didn't have to leave for another hour, but Chuuya had to get to work within the next 30 minutes. After brushing your teeth, you notice Chuuya searching the bedroom for his usual hat.
"The nightstand." You point out to him. He sees it and lets out a sigh of relief, grabbing it and plopping it on his head. "Thanks, doll. I gotta get going' now, but I'll see ya tonight, okay?" He says, pulling you in by your waist for his daily goodbye kiss. "Yeah, got it." You smile before kissing him sweetly for a quick moment before he backs away. "Alright, I love you, see ya later." He playfully smacks your ass before letting go of you and heading out to the door. "Bye Chuuya, I love you, I'll see you later!" Once you heard him leave, you smiled to yourself and headed right back to the closet. You didn't necessarily have to get dressed just yet, so that gave you some time to try on a couple more hats on your own.
Fyodor Dostoevsky ★
• Fyodor doesn't mind letting you borrow his cape if you seem cold, or he'll simply wrap it around you and pull you into his side. He prefers the latter, considering it doesn't take much for him to get chilly.
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Fyodor held your gloved hand in his as you both walked down the snowy streets of Yokohama. It was the winter solstice and you both decided to take a walk down one of the most popular roads and do some window shopping. By the end of the evening, the hand that wasn't occupied with holding Fyodors held a warm cup of hot chocolate that you sipped on periodically. "Have you enjoyed yourself tonight, Myshka?" He asks you, adjusting his ushanka and gazing up at the sky, noticing some snow start to fall. "I did. Thanks for coming with me, I know you have a lot of stuff to do." You respond, bringing the cup to your lips for another sip. He waves his hand dismissively. "That doesn't mean I can't accompany you." His thumb rubs over your knuckles as snow starts landing on his hat and your head, the street lamps illuminating the darkness with a tangerine-colored glow. You nod at his words, leaning into his shoulder and shivering.
"It's so cold, Fedya." You say, your head on his shoulder and your hand squeezing his tightly. He lets go in order to put his arm around your waist, pulling his long cape over your shoulder. "I know, the walk home isn't much further, don't worry." You smile and hold onto the old, worn material to keep it in place. "You're right, thanks." You say, feeling butterflies in your stomach. It never mattered how long you and Fyodor had been together, every affectionate action made you feel like you had just got together. He held you close with his cape still shielding you from the cold and adding a layer of warmth to your jacket. He would peer over at you every now and again, laughing under his breath at all the snow that was getting into your hair. "What's so funny?" You ask him, a smile spread acrossed your face. "You've got a whole bunch of snow on your head." He tells you. "It looks like dandruff."
You roll your eyes and yank the ushanka off of his head, placing it on yours instead. "There, now you won't have to look at it." You hold the fluffy hat on top of your head and try to prevent him from taking it back when he tugs on it. "No, you can get your own, my ears are cold." He says with a smile, eventually pulling it back into his own possession and patting it off. "I will say though, you look better in my hat than Dazai did." You give a proud smirk and rest your head on his shoulder. "I'd hope you'd think so." Your street comes into view and you pull him along as you speed up, wanting to get into the warm, cozy house as soon as possible. "I know running isn't exactly your thing but pick up the pace a little, I wanna get under the covers and cuddle." You tell him, getting closer to home with each passing second.
He picks up speed for you and listens to the sound of your feet hitting the pavement. It's not long before you've pulled him all the way home and you're unlocking the door, nearly spilling inside to get into the warm living room. Fyodor follows suit, unlacing his shoes and hanging up his cape and ushanka. You wait for him in the open doorway that connects the living room and the hallway, ready to curl up in bed away from the harsh cold. "Alright, I'm coming." He says, treading through the hall with you and opening the bedroom door. His hand rested on your lower back as you both walked to the comfortable mattress, crawling under the covers and pulling each other close. "Your cape is really warm and comfortable. You should wrap me in it more often." You say, scooching closer to him and letting his arm drape over your waist.
"Hmm, I guess that wouldn't hurt. You really like it?" He peers down at you, his head propped up on his fist. "Yeah, I might have to steal it, actually." You say seriously, making him click his tongue. "You're welcome to steal it if I'm not wearing it." He says, chewing on the inside of his cheek habitually. "Then expect it to be off the hanger more often then not." He smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead, laying his head down on the pillow. "Okay, that's fine, but right now you have me and the blanket to keep you warm." He murmurs, closing his eyes. "Well you're not contributing to that as much as the blanket, but whatever you say." You kiss his cheek and brush his bangs out of his face. "G'night Fedya, I love you." You say, resting your head on his chest, ready for sleep. "I love you too, y/n, sleep well."
Nikolai Gogol ★
• You always loved Nikolais outfit and couldn't help but wanna put it in one day. You were sure he wouldn't mind, after all, sharing attire was nothing foreign to your relationship.
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It started with you trying on his blouse for fun, but then you decided the blouse wasn't complete without the vest, pants, gloves, collar, shoes, or hat. Everything fit you a little differently than it fit Nikolai, but it didn't matter, because when you walked over to the nearest reflective surface, you found yourself cute, and you almost couldn't wait for Nikolai to get out of the shower to show him. You just needed one more thing, his cape. You ran out to the coat rack by the door and swung it behind you and then over your shoulders excitedly, grabbing it by the edges and moving it around. You felt really fancy with his cape, swaying your body just to feel the fabric move with you. As a matter of fact, you were so caught up in how good the cape made you feel that you didn't even realize the bathroom door open.
"Oh, wow, dove! My outfit looks so good on you! I've never noticed how much the red gloves pop until now." You turned around so fast, as if you were sitting in silence and all of a sudden a full file cabinet tipped over and crashed onto a linoleum floor. "Wah-! When'd you get out? I mean, thank you, but you scared me!" You say with a nervous laugh. "I thought it looked cute." You murmur, starting to pull off the gloves, but he stops you. "Hey, wait, you should stay in it for a moment, I'm not done admiring you yet!" He tells you, walking over and grabbing your hands gently. He leans in to kiss you, his smile palpable on his lips. You hand falls on his shoulder, rubbing it up and down affectionately before pulling away. "You really like it that much, huh?"
He nods. "Ofcourse! Oh, I'd love to show everyone how wonderful you look. Would you let me?" He asks, squeezing your hands tightly. "Sure, Kolya, go ahead." He quickly skitters off to fetch his cellphone, returning with the camera app already open. "Pose." He says, watching you place your hands on your waist and cock your hip a little bit. "Ah, gorgeous." He says, spamming the capture button. "Okay, I think that's enough." He says, his cheeks a bit pinker than before. He tossed his phone onto one of the side tables and embraced you once again, resting his head on top of yours. "Come on, y/n, I'd like to see you in my whole wardrobe now!" He says excitedly, pulling you along back to the bedroom. You don't necessarily know what you ignited in him, but it was certainly something, and now you were preparing yourself for a god-knows-how-long fashion show for your boyfriend. Not that you really minded, ofcourse.
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A/n; another post that was supposed to have sigma and then didn't have sigma because I wanted to watch Jersey shore instead of write. ALSO I WENT TO THE DENTIST YESTERDAY terrible experience I cried but don't tell anyone I said that
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hippiegoth97 · 9 months ago
Text
Random Eddie Thought #2
This one really got away from me, but it's nice to write something new again :)
18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie, smut, sex dreams/fantasies, mentions of genital piercings/oral sex/masturbation/choking/unprotected sex, invasion of privacy, erections, crying, heavy kissing, idiots in love, best friends to lovers
A Few Tags: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @mediocredreams
@micheledawn1975 @slowandsteddie @bimbobaggins69 @etherealxwitch @taintedcigs
You're in the kitchen of your apartment, getting a snack to share with Eddie, your best friend, who's come to have a perfectly platonic sleepover with you. You've known each other since high school, becoming fast friends. You never fit in the with 'in crowd' and Eddie naturally picked up on your awkward and shy nature. Over the years he's managed to get you to open up more and be yourself, though it's mostly only around him, even after all these years. You tell each other everything, and have been there for one another through thick and thin.
One thing he hasn't seemed to notice, however, is your growing feelings for him. As you both matured into your mid-twenties, you've been unable to deny just how gorgeous Eddie is. With his long curls, big brown eyes, and lithe body covered in tats and piercings. Not to mention he's perpetually dressed in band tees and jeans that don't leave much to the imagination. Ugh, he's absolutely perfect. Inside and out.
That's not to say he hasn't always been hot stuff, because of course he has. But he's not the scrawny little boy who picked you out of a long line of geeks and freaks anymore. No, now he's a strong, handsome, sexy man. A man who treats you like no one ever has before. He brings you something every time he comes to see you, ranging anywhere between a new book or a pretty rock he found on a walk once. He opens doors for you, and holds you in his arms when you're sad. He makes you soup when you're sick, nursing you back to health even if it means missing work.
The only thing missing, is something you've craved since the day you met him. Something you've never spoken aloud. Something you've only verbalized in late night cries of ecstasy when you get off to the thought of your best friend. Something you've only admitted in the pages of your diary. The diary that Eddie has just found in your bedside drawer, along with a pretty pink rabbit that makes him chuckle when he first sees it.
And what do we have here?... Eddie thinks to himself, pulling the book out of its hiding place. It's thick, bound in leather, detailed with little leaves and flowers. He thinks maybe it's a poetry journal, or a sketchbook. You share his affinity for the creative. It isn't until he actually opens that he realizes what's inside. Your deepest, darkest secrets. He flips through the pages, noting the dates as he reads about strange dreams you've had, or bad one-night stands. His eyes widen when he reaches an entry from a week ago, with the opening line: I dreamt about Eddie again last night...
He debates putting the diary back, not wanting to invade your privacy. He's not one to snoop, especially when you tell him everything anyway. Well, at least he thought you did. He bites his lip, tapping his foot on the floor as he decides what to do. He really should just put it back, and pretend he never saw it (or your special toy). But something inside him begs to know what your dreams of him are like. If they're anything resembling the dirty fantasies he's had of you while alone in his bed, he can't let it go until he knows for sure. He decides to read the next few lines, after flicking his eyes to the doorway to listen for your footsteps coming back from the kitchen.
...it was the same as all the others. Eddie was in my bed, and we were naked. His soft, warm lips were on mine, his tongue was in my mouth, and his hands were everywhere. It felt so good, having him kiss me like that while he explored every inch of me. His fingers were carefully thrusting inside my pussy, making me so fucking wet. I could feel his dick pressing into my thigh, and I took him in my hand. The noise he made when I touched him was so beautiful, he sounded so breathless and needy for me...
Eddie knows he should stop. This is wrong. So, so wrong. These are your private thoughts, and he shouldn't be reading them. Even if they're making a tent form in his pants. His heart races in his chest, and he feels rather hot under the collar. His stomach twists with an uneasy mix of guilt and arousal. He lets out a shaky breath, once again weighing his options. Keep reading, or put the damn thing away and never, ever bring it up. He looks down the hall, wondering how much time he has left before you come back. Against his better judgment, he gives in to his desire for you. With eyes glued to your neat handwriting, he reads on.
...I could feel him grow in my hand, fuck, he was huge. I've seen it in real life before, and not entirely on accident. Since we're so close, we change in front of each other sometimes. And even though I've never seen it hard, I can tell his dick is big. It's even got a goddamn piercing on it, shining in the light like a lure. I swear to God, it takes everything in me not to fall to my knees and take him in my mouth whenever I see it...
Eddie scoffs loudly, unable to believe you've actually been checking him out. A part of him wonders if this is a sick joke, that you'd somehow known to leave this here for him to see. Any second now, you'll come busting in here and laugh in his face. Maybe even snap a picture of his embarrassingly large erection amd make copies to give all your friends.
But that's not you. You're too kind and sweet to him to ever pull such a cruel (and improbably elaborate) prank. Sure, he's wanted you for years. To call you his girl, to love you the way you should be loved. To kiss you, and hold you, and touch you in all the ways he thinks you'd like. To love you, and spoil you like the queen you are in his eyes. He's just never allowed himself to think you'd ever feel the same about him. Until now.
"What are you doing with that?" You ask softly, frozen in place in the doorway of your bedroom with a tray of snacks in your hands. Your eyes are blown wide, as you've come back to find Eddie on your bed, reading your diary, with a huge hard-on in his pants.
"I-I, I was, uh, just...um..." Eddie babbles helplessly, slamming the book shut and tossing it across the room. As if it being anywhere else will magically absolve him of invading your privacy. You just stare at him as he goes red in the face, and gestures with his hands as he fails to come up with an explanation. "...sorry." He says after letting out a long string of unintelligible sounds. He cringes at the word, realizing it's not nearly enough. But his mind and mouth can't come up with anything that doesn't sound like a feral goblin choking on a chicken bone.
"What part did you read?" You ask, your own cheeks turning a deep crimson. You really hope he didn't find your latest sex dream entry, but the glaring evidence in his jeans tells you that's exactly what he saw.
"Read? No, I was, um...j-just skimming..." He chuckles nervously, hoping you'll buy it. But the darkening blush on your skin and tears welling in your eyes lets him know he's truly caught. "Sweetheart, I—" Eddie starts, standing up as you're about to fall apart.
"Eddie, I swear, I-I didn't mean it! It was just a dream, and pfft! I was high when I wrote that!" You laugh uncontrollably as a way to hide your tears of embarrassment, frantically shaking your head. You've never been so mortified in your life, caught red handed in the worst way possible. You could've gone forever without ever letting him know how you feel. The potential rejection seemed too painful to endure. "I didn't mean it, Eddie. I didn't." Your laughter devolves into soft sobs, your grip loosening on the tray. Eddie catches it before everything tumbles to the floor, setting it on your dresser.
"Sweetheart, c'mere." Eddie takes your hands in his, and leads you over to your bed to sit beside him. You follow him, unable to do much else as tears stream down your face. "I'm sorry for snooping, angel. That wasn't right for me to do." He says sadly, stroking your soft skin with his thumbs. You nod in response. "And we can pretend this never happened, okay? Like you said, it was just a dream." He offers, his own words stabbing into his heart at the idea of never fully being with you the way he wants. But he doesn't feel like he's earned it. Not after making you so upset, and betraying your trust.
"Why did you read it?" You ask abruptly, more curious than angry. As humiliating as it is that he found you out before you could tell him yourself, you want to know how those secret words made him feel.
"I got bored, and curious. I found it in your drawer, thinking it was poetry or something. But then I found the entry of you dreaming about me..." Eddie trails off, pondering what to say next. "...and I got more curious."
"About what?" You continue, your tears drying up.
"About whether or not you want me the same way I want you." He boldly admits. He may as well, since your diary entries admitted your own wonderful, awful, heart-breaking, nerve-wracking secret to him. You don't say anything else, eyes blown wide in shock. "I want to be with you, princess. I've always wanted that." He says emphatically, making your heart swell as well as race.
"Really?" You ask, as if his erection earlier wasn't enough indication of his desire for you. You've dreamt about this moment so many times, spent numerous moments throughout the days and nights hoping one day he'd see you. You now stupidly realize, that there was never a time where he didn't.
"Yes, really. If you can forgive me for being a creep, that is." He says with a chuckle, making you giggle as well.
"Yeah, I think I can manage that." You smile, squeezing his hands with your own. "How far did you get anyway?" You ask curiously.
"Uh, right about where you talked about wanting to suck my massive, pierced cock." Eddie replies, moaning in an exaggerated way on his final words to tease you.
"Ugh, that's so embarrassing!" You groan, covering your face in shame.
"It's really not, babydoll. I'm just flattered that you noticed." He insists, pulling your hands down so he can see your pretty face again.
"I'll count myself lucky you didn't read any more." You giggle sheepishly, recalling how the rest of that dream went. You riding Eddie's cock while his large hand wraps tightly around your throat, filthy praises leaving his lips to spur you on. Him fucking you from behind, tugging your head back by your hair as he grunts and groans with every thrust. Among other equally explicit things.
"Shit, now I have to read the rest!" Eddie says impishly, diving off the bed to get the diary that still lays on the floor.
"Eddie, no! Please, it's too embarrassing!" You shriek, clamoring after him. But he's quicker than you, snatching up the book and holding it above your head. You try to jump up and tear it from his reach, but it's no use. He chuckles at your foolish attempts, slowly moving closer to you while still holding the diary above your heads. His free arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close. Your hands meet his chest, a small gasp leaving your lips at the sudden movement. He gazes deep into your eyes with burning lust, a smirk plastered on his lips.
"Think of it this way, sweetheart. If I read the rest, I'll know exactly what we're doing tonight." He speaks seductively, in a way you've only heard in your dreams.
"This can't be happening." You scoff, convinced you somehow fell asleep before Eddie came over tonight.
"Is it really so hard to believe that I'm in love with you?" He asks, dropping the Casanova act for a second and tossing the diary on the bed. He cups your cheek, and leans in to kiss you. His plush lips meet yours, giving you a taste of sweet, beautiful reality.
"Mm." You grab hold of the sides of his face, deepening the kiss. His tongue finds its way into your mouth, drawing a quiet moan from you. Time seems to stop as your mouths move together as one, and joyful tears spring from your eyes. This is all you've ever wanted. To love Eddie, and to have him love you back.
He carefully leads you backwards to the bed, laying you down on top of it as he kneels above you. He pulls away, wiping the salty tracks from your face. He smiles warmly, admiring every last bit of you and saving it away to remember this forever. "Can I make you feel good, sweetheart?" Eddie asks, as if it's his dying wish.
"Please." You reply softly, giving him a nod.
"Perfect." He reaches over for the diary, finding his place as he lays down beside you. "Now...where were we?" He muses, eyes bugging out when he reads what comes next. "Christ, I picked a good night to be nosy." He turns his head to look at you, wearing a devilish grin unlike you've ever seen on him before. "I swear to god, I'm gonna make all your dreams come true, babydoll. Even if it takes all night." He purrs, before chucking the damned book away one last time and pouncing on you.
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