#the sluttiest time of year <3

[lordacne]

pray for me 🙏

-> onlyfans

#feeling possessed by christ #happy halloween #the sluttiest time of year <3 #lordacne #me #nun costume #sexy nun #girls in lingerie

[ldrfanatic]

Oh Bella

Italian!Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

synopsis - 3 times the reader teases Theo’s Italian roots + 1 time she celebrates them

cute, lazy fluff, no angst just happy vibes for a happy christmas :)

slytherin boys masterlist navigation

warning - internet translated Italian

(got these ideas from Ben and Fabio on instagram they’re so funny)

It wasn’t easy to date Theodore Nott. It was always rewarding but it wasn’t always easy.

For starters, Theo grew up in Italy and has one of the thickest Italian accents you’ve ever heard. There were a few times over the course of your relationship that you had to ask him to repeat himself a few times. Like when he was trying to tell you that Draco had invited you out on a double date with himself and Hermione.

You had just woken up from a nap when Theo walked into the Slytherin common room after quidditch practice. He flashed you a breath taking smile and all but skipped up to you as you rubbed your tired eyes. You felt your heart melting in your chest at the sight of your adorable boyfriend.

“Buongiorno Bella.” (good morning beautiful) Theo swooped down and delivered a soft kiss to the side of your face before plopping down next to you on the couch. “Guess what?” You hummed in response as you snuggled deep into his side.

“What’s up Theo?”

“At quidditch practice today, Draco says that you and I, we can go out double with them.”

In your tired brain, Theo’s words made even less sense. You sat up from his side and stared at him with your brows furrowed. “Huh?” Theo stared blankly back at you. He brushed a piece of your hair away from your face.

“Still asleep, Bella?”

You shook your head lightly but it didn’t convince either of you entirely. A chuckle rumbled through Theo and his chest vibrated in laughter.

“Draco says we can go double out with Herminone.”

Now it was your turn to laugh at the way Theo pronounced Hermione’s name. You’d all been friends for about two years now since she and Draco had started dating, but he still couldn’t quite pronounce her name correctly.

Finally deciphering his thick accent and slightly broken, but still cute English, realization dawned upon you. You tried to smother a smile as you stared at your boyfriend in pure adoration. “You mean he invited us to double date with them?”

Theo looked at you for a few seconds before standing up and sighing a little dramatically.

“Mio dio Bella, that’s what I said”

“Mmm of course, Theo.”

So, dating Theodore Nott was not without its challenges. But it also wasn’t without its fun.

1.

It was Mattheo’s birthday so of course the Slytherin common room was filled to the brim with drugs, alcohol, and probably the sluttiest girls in all of Hogwarts. Theo was sitting at a table off in the corner with both of your guys’ drinks and was noticeably uncomfortable in such an environment.

You’d gone to get ice for your sex on the beach when you had a mischevious idea. You scooped a little more ice into the cup and started making your way back to Theo.

You caught sight of Mattheo what was sitting on one of the large couches dead center in the room. He had three girls all over him right now and Lorenzo was giggling uncontrollably as he passed him a joint. Mattheo caught your eye and winked playfully. He liked to flirt with you to rile Theo up a little bit every once in a while.

You finally made it back to your table where Theo was swirling a deep red wine in a glass. His lips quirked up in a small smile as you took your seat next to him. Without speaking, he reached out and pulled your chair impossibly closer to his before throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Ciao Bella.”

Your entire body bloomed at the sound of his thick accent over his husky voice. Warmth settled over you like a fluffy blanket on a snowy morning.

“Ciao Theo.”

The surprise on Theo’s face was more than enough to make you happy that you’d taken up Italian recently. You practiced with Lorenzo in some of your free time and he was a pretty good teacher. You made eye contact with Theo and winked before settling into his side.

Theo immediately became suspicious as you were known for your antics.

“What are you up to Il mio piccolo piantagrane, hm?” (my little troublemaker)

“Nothing Theo, relax.”

He stared at you suspiciously for a few seconds before his body finally loosened.

The opportunity was too great to miss.

You leaned over both of your drinks and dumped ice into your sex on the beach before then dropping a few ice cubes into Theo’s wine.

His reaction was nearly instantaneous.

“Oh! Bella, no! No, no, no!” His lips turned up in disgust and multiple muted expressions left his mouth in what you assumed were Italian swears.

“Che diavolo? Ghiaccio nel vino? No! Il vino è sacro.”

(what the hell? ice in wine? no! wine is sacred.)

A large hand came and ran through his messy curls and the laugh you’d been surprising burst suddenly from your chest. Theo’s eyes snapped to yours and you recognized the mischievous glint.

A squeal left your mouth as you leapt up from your seat and took off around the common room with him hot on your tail.

2.

The second time that you decided to make your poor sweet Italian boyfriend question all decisions to be with you was at dinner one night. You weren’t intentionally teasing him at first as you stared down at your empty plate trying to think of what you wanted.

You glanced over to Theo’s plate next to you and saw a mouthwatering pasta that he’d conjured. You tugged gently on the sleeve of his green sweater and his attention found yours immediately.

“What’s wrong, bellissima?”

“Can you get me some of that, please Theo?”

“Of course.”

He took your plate in his hands and after a few seconds his dish was sitting in front of you. You noted how he made sure there were no tomatoes in yours like there were in his. Theo knew you hated tomatoes. It was so sweet it almost made you feel bad for what you were about to do to his little Italian heart.

Almost.

Theo picked up his fork and started to dig into his food before he stopped abruptly. Lorenzo too stopped eating his own food and the pair stared at you incredulously as you shoveled the pasta into your mouth.

“Oh Bella.”

He seemed more horrified than anything else. You loaded more food into your mouth being careful to eat as much as a lady as you could.

“No.” You stared at him blankly with a sheepish look before resuming your meal. “Bella, no. Twirl. Like this,” Theo picked up his fork and expertly swirled the noodles around before bringing it up to his mouth.

You offered him a gentle grin before promptly resuming what you were doing before. From across the table Lorenzo started whisper screaming at Theo in Italian.

“Theo, Cosa c'è che non va nella tua ragazza? Lei mangia la pasta come una bambina!” (what’s wrong with your girlfriend? she eats pasta like a child!)

Theo stared at you astounded as redness crept up his face. Then it finally dawned on him that you were teasing.

“Bella per favoreee.” He dragged out his words with a small smile on his face at your teasing. You both knew that you knew the proper way to eat pasta.

“No more teasing love.” You nodded through your giggles and Theo wrapped a thick arm around your waist and pulled you into his side.

3.

So, you knew that you promised Theo no more teasing last week but when you overheard him and Lorenzo complaining earlier in the most adorable stuttered English you couldn’t help yourself. You were walking down towards the common room to get lunch with the boys.

Theo, Lorenzo, and Mattheo were sitting in the common room all having a discussion. Suddenly you heard your boyfriend’s sweet Italian symphony of a voice shift into one of astonishment. You peeked around the corner and saw both him and Lorenzo staring at Mattheo like he’d just said the most offensive thing ever.

“What do you mean you have the cappuccino in the afternoon, huh?” His fingers came to rub at his temples and you had to stifle your laugh behind your hand. “Puah! cappuccino è solo per la mattina.” (Cappuccino is only for the morning).

Mattheo stared blankly at the two. Finally you decided to step in before the vein in Theo’s forehead burst.

“Theo? I’m ready.”

By the time that you made it to the Great Hall, the boys seemed to have forgotten about their earlier conversation. Mattheo walked quietly in step next to you while Theo and Lorenzo conversed in Italian so quickly your head was spinning.

“Psst. Y/n I have an idea on how to make that little Italian boy of yours blow a fuse.”

(“Maledizione Lorenzo, non credi che se sapessi cosa regalarle non andrei fuori di testa?”)

You cursed yourself that you couldn’t understand what they were saying. After staring at the side of Theo’s handsome face for a few moments longer you let out a disgruntled noise and turned to Mattheo.

“Fine! What?”

And that was how you found yourself in this situation.

Trying your absolute hardest to keep a straight face without looking at Theo at all while you sipped on your cappuccino that you’d conjured in your cup.

“Oh Bella.”

Theo’s familiar distressed tone rang out from next to you. “You cannot be series, amore mio.”

“Do you mean serious, Theo?” Mattheo chimed in with an amused smirk.

Theo made a dismissive Italian noise and waved Mattheo off. He swore under his breath before grabbing the side of your face and turning it to him. “Bellissima, it is too late for a cappuccino!”

You smirked up at your distraught boyfriend and pressed a quick kiss to the softness of his cheek. “I know, amore.”

Theo stared at you before throwing his hands up in the air and turning back towards his lunch. Mattheo’s deep laugh burst out and you couldn’t help yourself but to laugh along with him.

You were so busy laughing you hadn’t noticed that Theo was staring at you with a smile. He was so very in love with you.

+ one time you celebrated Theo’s Italian roots

April 25th was meant to be celebratory. La Festa della Resistenza. And Theodore Nott was stuck at quidditch practice.

Meanwhile, you were scurrying around the common room with Lorenzo trying to set up the perfect surprise for Theo. With Italy’s Liberation Day approaching, you’d noticed Theo had been a little down lately. You knew that it was because he was missing his family.

Normally, his mother would prepare a big feast and the family would sing the song of the resistance, Bella Ciao. You’d taken a floo to his home in Italy and gotten some recipes from his mother directly, all his favorites. And now, you were trying desperately to teach a group of first year Slytherins how to sing the song that you’d been practicing for weeks.

You sighed deeply as you realized the little buggers you bribed with a few galleons each were not at all going to get the song down in time. You conjured your purse and shelled out a few galleons to each child before shooing them out of the common room.

By the time Theo got back from quidditch practice, everything was perfect. You were standing in the center of the room in a deep red dress that you knew was his favorite. When he saw the spread, Theo thought his heart might stop. You looked nothing short of stunning.

“Oh Bella.”

It didn’t hold any of the distress that it normally did. This time his tone was thick with adoration. Theo felt a lump moving up his throat that caught tears behind his eyes. His heart clenched in his chest. This was one of the most thoughtful things that anyone had ever done for him.

Just when he was certain you couldn’t get anymore perfect, your sweet voice rang out in an impossibly beautiful symphony that rivaled Pavarotti.

“Una mattina mi sono alzato

O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao, ciao

Una mattina mi sono alzato

E ho trovato l'invasor.”

Theo held you closer to his chest and pressed his forehead against yours as he joined for the next verse.

“O partigiano, portami via

O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao, ciao

O partigiano, portami via

Che mi sento di morir.”

The two of you swayed as Lorenzo joined and the three of you sang the rest of the song together. When you finished, you all made plates and sat down in the common room.

“When did you learn all of this, Bella?”

You smiled gently at Theo while he stared at you like you were the most perfect being in the world.

“I took a trip to Italy to see your mother a little bit ago. She told me about La Festa della Resistenza the Celebration of the Resistance. She talked about how important it was to Italy’s history and that it marked the Resistance victory in the Italian Civil War. Then when I saw how sad you were to be away from home at this time I knew I had to do something.”

In that moment, Theo knew that there wasn’t anybody he’d ever loved as much as he loved you. He took your face in both of his hands and pressed a deep kiss to your lips.

“This is perfect, bellissima, thank you so much.”

#slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #lorenzo berkshire #Italian Theodore Nott #slytherin boys x reader

[x-liv25-jamieswife]

can you pls do some jameson headcannons?

jameson head canons

of course, i'd love to. jamie is the best brother, and that is not up for discussion. might suck cause i'm currently dying (not fr). i also might make a part two cause i wrote these at like 2am and feel like i have some better ideas. hope you like them<3

his favorite kind of alcohol is whiskey (idk why is just feel it)

he's ambidextrous

loves chase atlantic and the weekend but is also a sucker for love songs, laufey, and taylor swift

actually has a really nice voice. he'll sometimes sing in the shower and avery thinks its adorable (she also has a great voice so sometimes they sing together)

he has nightmares about the day avery got bombed and almost died.

he literally only drinks black coffee with the tiniest amount of milk in it.

he's secretly a huge anime fan, especially more romantic animes.

he had an obsession with octopuses when he was younger (i have no idea why). he used to get tobias to take him out to places where the could see them

played roblox for the longest time possible (he loved bullying kids and playing really difficult obbies (he would not stop until he finished them))

he takes hours getting ready in the morning bc he has a 1094 step hair care routine.

when he gets anxious (very rare) he plays with the hem of his shirt.

he's a very good electric guitar player (i imagine him doing those videos you see on tiktok where the guy is playing and you can only see his hands (people are thirsting over it in the comments))

posts thirst traps on tiktok and tags avery in every single one of them so she can see (at this point this is canon)

when he becomes older, people see him as a dilf.

seems like the kind of guy who would like rough s*x and, although he does like it, he prefers it when its romantic

gets extremely scared that avery will someday realize she deserves better than him and will leave him (he thinks its true but its not). he'll wake up from nightmares where he loses her crying silently, and he'll start cuddling up with her.

loves being the little spoon in bed or resting his head on avery's chest.

he has pinterest boards with inspiration for his dates with avery.

has the sluttiest waist known to human kind (it has everyone in a chokehold)

he went behind tobias' back and got on anti-depressants (i'm projecting) (he got them prescribed to him obvi). he still takes them.

he's actually a really big fan of poetry and literature (one of the reasons why he loves taylor)

when he's really deep in thought/is confused, his eyebrows will scrunch together

he used to be a really big nail biter. he'd especially bite his nails when he knew tobias was disappointed in him and wanted to talk to him.

when he has to sleep without avery, he cuddles up with a pillow bc he hates not falling asleep holding someone/something

has a teddy bear he's had since he was baby that he still has today and cuddles up with when he's alone

he's perfected his fake smile and literally no one can see through it (except for avery)

he loves receiving kisses on his nose (from avery of course)

he used to have a friend group he liked a lot until he realized they only wanted him around bc of his money

his comfort series is percy jackson (in another post i said avery used to have an edit account dedicated to pjo, so they bond over their love for the series)

hates having dry lips. it irks him. he always has lip balm with him

he has impeccable taste in clothing but no one really knows cause he never makes an effort

he only cries at night in the comfort of his room in his pillow

really depressing, but he's tried to kill himself multiple times but tobias always stopped him (but did nothing to help him)

he absolutely loves stargazing. all of his worries melt away whenever he's stargazing.

for halloween one year, he dressed up as a condom...

i apologize for any spelling mistakes :)

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #avery grambs #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne

[shortpplfedup]

Only Friends Character Rankings Pre-Air

Jojo, Ninew, Ninepinta and Vivienne have now presented their stable of hoes to us, y'all have chosen your fighters, and I am gnawing on concrete in anticipation of August 12. Since I'm gonna be doing weekly character rankings, I wanted to set up a pre-air Clown Checkpoint so I can look back later and see how wrong I was. Until that YouTube premiere countdown hits zero, we know exactly nothing, but I'm ready to predict whose gay wrongs I will most support! Here we go!

1. Nick

I just want you to love only me!

Audience ranking: 6

Ever since Mark Pakin showed up in that pilot trailer scheming and sex-taping, Nick has been MY DUDE. I want him to be the most manclown character of all time. I want him to be DESPERATE AND PATHETIC for Boston's dick. ANSWER EVERY BOOTY CALL NICK, I BELIEVE IN YOU. HE WANTS YOU TO DO A THREESOME? NO PROBLEM, WHATEVER YOU WANT BABE. I want Nick to call his bestie (Sand?) crying because Boston came over at 3:02 a.m. and left at 4:37 a.m. and 15 minutes of that was him taking a post-coital shower. I want crying and begging and clinging and devious acts. Khun Pakin has the chops to make my dreams come alive, make it happen boo!

2. Mew

My type is pretty simple. I'm not a picky kind of guy.

Audience ranking: 4

Right up until time of posting I thought my #2 seed would be Boston, but something is telling me that when it comes to manipulation and making grown men cry, Mew will emerge the champion. Something in this butter-wouldn't-melt expression is telling me this man is the true demon from hell whereas Boston is merely a top-tier-yet-still-garden-variety slut. Him shit-kicking Boston into the pool and then jumping in himself to finish the job is the kinda deranged shit I respect immensely. Kill them all Mew. You deserve.

3. Boston

You should be glad to be my favourite.

Audience ranking: 5

I may have called this man a garden variety slut, but I love a good slut though! Especially one who will lend his toys to help out a friend. And then almost instantly regret it. And then cause chaos and problems for himself as a result. And then make it everybody else's chaos and problems. Basically, I expect Boston's job to be throwing hole around Bangkok and ruining lives, and I expect him to do it WELL, and I expect him to do it in the sluttiest rent boy outfits I've ever seen.

4. Ray

You think my life will be better with you? It's only fucking going down to hell.

Audience ranking: 3

Speaking of chaos and problems, OUR BI DISASTER IS HERE GUYS! Bisexual? Bipolar? Why not both? The trailer is letting us know from jump that Ray is A Mess With Money and happy to use that money to buy himself some company, but also not able to keep those lines from getting blurred. I’m expecting this character to make me fall in love with him but also want to strangle him, Teh Krittikorn Saetun-style, so expect this ranking to go up until he is somehow my fave.

5. Sand

Friends don't charge friends. Besides, you should save your money for a shrink.

Audience ranking: 2

First Kanaphan’s job at GMMTV is to rip our hearts out roughly twice a year, and he’s right on schedule. It seems like Sand never learned not to fall for poor little rich boys, so we will all have to suffer with him. Honestly his ranking is this low right now because I see these guitars and microphones and I want no part of them. There is a short list of GMMTV boys allowed to sing at me and as much as I love First he is not on it. Ditch the microphone and bring back the baseball bat bb, I’m ready to see you bust some heads, kneecaps, car windows, whatever in pursuit of your love.

6. Top

When I take aim, I never miss.

Audience ranking: 7

Ah yes, the hoe-turned-seeming-housewife who’s actually still hoeing. The village bike. The community top. Boston basically turns him out and he’s not only fine with it, he falls for the john. Delicious. I desire his ruin like I’ve desired nothing before in media.

7. Everybody we don’t know nothing about yet (Yo, Nam/Syrup, Nes, Lesbian!Nonnie, A Wild Papang, various and assorted surprise guests I’m pretty sure we’re getting)

Friends don't do this to each other.

Audience ranking: 1 (combined score)

We await the tea on all the side characters, but the casting is superb, and I’m ready to see how high in the rankings they can climb.

LET THE MESS COMMENCE!

#only friends the series #bless this mess #only friends weekly character rankings #i support gay wrongs #only friends series #only friends #bl meta series

[fanby-fckry]

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

4 hr. ago

🌈 hells-disney-princess Follow

18 min. ago

🥺

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

3 min. ago

alright, alright, princess puppydog eyes. i’ll keep healing.

#fr tho thanks charlie #i think i needed to hear that #irl source

( 104 notes )

🪡 niffty-lady Follow

24 min. ago

smut writing tips: sexualise guilt

#writeblr writing tips #irl source

( 3,510 notes )

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

1 hr. ago

You can't spell advertisements without putting semen between tits

🎀 charlies-angel Follow

1 hr. ago

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

1 hr. ago

I’m right tho

#cut me some slack vaggs #i’m trying to distract myself from fomo intimacy issues and crushing shame #irl source

( 6,966 notes )

📻 real-radio-demon Follow

2 hr. ago

I like the term "gallows humor" because it always makes me think of someone getting sentenced to death and thinking "I have GOT to be the funniest person at my public execution"

📻 real-radio-demon Follow

2 hr. ago

Your impending execution should be your second priority! Your first priority should ALWAYS be your commitment to the bit!

🐸 jest-fizzarolli Follow

2 hr. ago

remember, they can’t kill you if you never tell them the punch line 😎👉👉

#jester’s privilege #irl source

( 55,728 notes )

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

3 hr. ago

What’s the word for horny but not in a sexual way like I’m horny for Halloween but I don’t wanna fuck a pumpkin you feel

🎀 charlies-angel Follow

2 hr. ago

do u mean excited

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

2 hr. ago

That’s it the bitch, thanks Vaggs

#changed my mind tho #would fuck a pumpkin #irl source

( 649 notes )

🪡 niffty-lady Follow

3 hr. ago

i don’t have rizz i have one (1) big doll eye and many unsettling things to say

#irl source

( 1,622 notes )

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

4 hr. ago

The fact that makeup is considered to be “mature” and “sexulized” implies that being a clown or mime is the sluttiest job out there

🐸 jest-fizzarolli Follow

3 hr. ago

damn, angel, just @ me next time

#🤪 #jester’s privilege #irl source

( 17,379 notes )

🌈 hells-disney-princess Follow

5 hr. ago

how can people be so rude and not feel bad afterwards… When I don’t say thank you or don’t smile back I’ll think about it for 3 months straight and have flashbacks

#vent post #🌈 posts #irl source

( 18 notes )

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

Jul 1

if I make it outta this alive, I’m gonna tell my crush I’m in love with him.

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

Jul 1

fuck

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

Jul 3

ya know, I don’t think I’ve confessed to someone and meant it in over a decade?

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

Jul 3

haha would it be crazy if I said I forgot how?

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

Jul 5

today’s the day. i’m gonna do it.

🕸️ angie-fluffy-bootz Follow

5 hr. ago

guess what I did not do yesterday

#fuck why is this so hard? #i don’t know what’s wrong with me #fuck i need a drink

( 316 notes )

🍎 luci-goosey-666 Follow

Jul 4, 2013

Do you think Dad stays in Heaven because He too lives in fear of what He's created?

🍎 luci-goosey-666 Follow

6 hr. ago

I made this post 7 years ago after my wife left me and my life was falling apart.

These 7 years have been some of the darkest times in my life, and considering how fucking ancient I am, that’s really saying something.

I thought humanity was beyond cruel, that Sinners were nothing but awful, irredeemable monsters. My daughter and her hotel have taught me otherwise.

My life is finally looking up. I’m starting to regain a sense of clarity I haven’t had since fucking Eden. And I have her, her Fallen gf, and their rag-tag bunch of Sinners to thank for that.

So thank you, Charlie. I’ve said it in person, but I’ll say it again here. Thank you for showing me that the gift of free will was not wasted. That what I did wasn’t all bad. I love you, sweetie.

#wholesome

( 92,616 notes )

⬜️ voxblr-meta Follow

7 hr. ago

Fanby’s Fake Dash Masterpost

#meta #fake tumblr dash

( 29 notes )

#unreality cw #suggestive #fanby’s fuckery #fake tumblr dash #hazbin hotel #angel dust #charlie morningstar #niffty #vaggie #alastor #fizzarolli #lucifer hazbin hotel

[worflesbian]

Sorry for the long post i just wanted to have all my trek sketchbook pages collated in the one place anyway-

1. misc sketches: a dax that went wrong, ds9 promo pic worf, dodgy b'elanna, bowlcut tuvok, off duty kira, and glasses chain worf sandwiched between will and deanna 2. misc sketches: b'elanna in between two worfs, jadzia, grilka, gowron, martok and sirella 3. two garashir sketches i probably did for @section-69 some years ago 4. scenes from a dream oz had plus one from a dream i had (cillian murphy as t'pol) 5. lineup of the sluttiest characters from each trek (kirk, riker, dax, bashir, and tom paris - caveat that i'd only just started voyager at the time, in retrospect it probably shouldve been harry) 6. martok and worf 7. martok and sirella as tennant&tate beatrice and benedick 8. old man worf, two regular worfs and erased worf that went wrong 9. charcoal sketches: two worfs and a martok 10. page of six worfs

#jIlaStaH #ghitlhpu'wij

[the-lonelybarricade]

Take My Hand, Wreck My Plans - Chapter 1

Summary: Fresh after her third, and final, breakup with Tamlin, Feyre decides a one night stand is exactly what she needs to get him out of her system. Except, her one night stand with a violet-eyed stranger ends up being far more than she bargained for.

-

Or; the one where Feysand gets knocked up from a one night stand. A contribution to @officialfeysandweek2023 Day 3: Family.

🌶️🌶️🌶️ ahead!

Read on AO3 ・Masterlist

-

Maybe, in hindsight, the third tequila shot had been a mistake.

The first one, though, had been strategic. Feyre had come to Rita’s that night with a purpose, and that purpose had rattled her to the bone. Her hands were shaking when she sat at the bar, and she frowned at her phone screen, watching the words as she struggled to keep her grip steady.

If she was going to do this, she needed a drink. An ounce of liquid courage that burned down her throat, bloomed in her chest and spread to her fingertips, loosening her body. It didn’t ease the tremble in her hands, but that had more to do with the small green text bubble that she’d been staring at since she got here.

Got stuck in traffic. I should be there in five x

Feyre set the phone on the bar so that she could run her palms over the black bodycon she’d squeezed herself into, hoping to erase the evidence of the sweat gathering in her palms. She was nervous. Of course she was nervous. She hadn’t done anything like this in… years.

It was Alis’s fault, really. Several nights ago, she’d discovered Feyre hunched over on the bathroom floor, sobbing into her hand as she sorted through nearly a thousand couples photos on her phone—again. It was the third time Feyre and Tamlin had broken up, which marked it the third time Feyre was erasing any evidence of him off her phone. The final time, she swore, well aware that the photos still sat in a hidden folder on her phone since she hadn’t summoned the courage to delete them permanently.

“Maybe you should go out,” Alis had suggested. “Meet someone new. Do something fun and impermanent.”

“Impermanent?” She’d blinked past her tears to force Alis’s frown into focus. “Do you mean like… a one night stand?”

Alis had shrugged. “I think it’d be good for you.”

Feyre had sat on that suggestion for a week, torturing herself with all of the usual post break-up rituals. Unfollowing him on instagram, archiving all the couples photos on her profile, stalking everyone in Tamin’s likes. And when Tamlin had posted a series of pictures of a barbeque from the weekend prior and Feyre had swiped to see her ex-boyfriend with his arm slung proudly around Amarantha’s waist—the girl he’d sworn she didn’t have to worry about—Feyre decided that maybe Alis was right. Maybe she did need to do something to help her move on from Tamlin permanently. She needed to find someone who could help her have fun, purge him out of her system for good.

In a surge of courage that Feyre now partially regretted, she had sent a text to her old college roommate.

I want to get drunk and slutty this weekend. You down?

Drunk and slutty? Feyre, did someone steal your phone? Kidding! You know ‘drunk and slutty’ is my legal name, of course I’m down! For real though, is everything okay?

Tamlin and I broke up.

Well, fuck him! Let’s go to Rita’s and have the drunkest, sluttiest time at his expense.

It had been years since Feyre had been to Rita’s. Mor and Feyre used to go to the nightclub semi-regularly when they had been living together in college, but Tamlin wasn’t very interested in nightlife and Feyre had stopped going shortly after they’d started dating. She’d stopped doing a lot of things, actually.

But she wouldn’t think about that now. She was here to forget Tamlin. She was here to get drunk and throw herself into the crowd of writhing bodies, losing herself in the music that he would have undoubtedly complained about.

She had forgotten how loud it was in Rita’s. Music thumped through the overhead speakers, set to such a high volume that Feyre could feel the bassline vibrating in her chest, elevating her already racing pulse.

“Feyre!”

A bright-eyed woman came racing up to Feyre, her long blonde hair swishing behind, falling just above the scoop of her backless red dress.

“It has been too long,” Mor declared, not waiting for Feyre to stand from the bar stool before she barrelled into her side. It helped that Mor was tall, especially in heels.

“It’s good to see you,” Feyre said—surprised by how much she meant it. “You look incredible, by the way.”

Mor’s red lips stretched into a smile as she ran her eyes over Feyre. She gave a low whistle. “Look who’s talking. You weren’t kidding when you said you wanted to get drunk and slutty. What are we having?”

“Tequila,” Feyre answered, fingers pinched around her empty shot glass.

“Really?” Mor scanned the crowd, lips pursed. “I was thinking I’d like a brunette.” She turned back to Feyre with a roguish smile and winked. “Tequila will do for now, though.”

If they were going to be dancing, Feyre was definitely going to be needing another shot. Usually by the time they’d made it out to Rita’s in college, they had already spent the evening nursing their low-budget alcohol that had tasted more like motor oil than whatever label had been slapped over it. Dancing hadn’t been an issue then, but that was a time when Feyre had felt freer.

At least now, she could afford a drink at the bar.

Or two.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Mor said, leaning against the bar after ordering a round of shots from the bartender. “I invited my cousin to join us.”

Feyre had a vague memory of the stories Mor used to tell about her cousin—one of her closest and only family members. It was good that Mor had invited someone else. Feyre had every intention of going home with someone tonight, and it was a relief to think she wouldn’t be abandoning Mor in doing so.

“The more the merrier.”

Mor grinned. There was a mischievous glint in her eye as she accepted the shot glasses from the bartender and passed one to Feyre. “To slutty new beginnings,” she said, raising the shot glass in the air.

With a short laugh, Feyre clinked her small glass against Mor’s, and together they knocked back their heads to down the numbing liquid. It didn’t take long after the heat hit the back of Feyre’s throat for Mor to grab her by the wrist and drag them both into the center of the dance floor.

The transition was difficult for Feyre at first. Her body was too stiff and there were too many people. It was difficult to keep from brushing shoulders with the other dancers while she tried—and failed—to copy Mor’s graceful movements while also keeping time with the upbeat music. Eventually, Mor laughed and grabbed Feyre’s hand.

“You’re thinking too much!” she called over the loud ambiance. Raising Feyre’s hand over her head, Mor twirled her in place, then tugged Feyre’s back to the front of her body. Mor’s hands fell to Feyre’s hips, flush against Mor’s as they swayed back and forth.

“Don’t look at what I’m doing,” she whispered into Feyre’s ear. There was a sensual scrape to her voice that caused Feyre to suppress a shiver. “Close your eyes and listen to the music. Move your hips against mine—does that feel good?”

“Mor!” Feyre whispered with a sharp laugh. Heat was rising to her cheeks, but she obediently shut her eyes and focused on the music. “Are you trying to teach me how to dance, or seduce me?”

Mor hummed impishly. “Can I not do both? I thought we were embracing our sluttiness tonight.”

“I’m going to end up wanting to go home with you,” Feyre said, only half teasing. She leaned back into Mor and raised her hands into the air, allowing her friend to guide their rhythm. “Everyone else is going to pale in comparison.”

“I don’t know about that.”

Mor’s voice was pointed enough that Feyre’s eyes fluttered open. A pair of striking eyes met hers, shining violet against the red lighting of the dance floor.

“Oh my—”

“Good luck,” Mor purred into her ear, before giving Feyre a soft push towards the purple-eyed man cutting towards them.

His lips were twisted into a devious smile, one that was eerily reminiscent of the friend who was rapidly disappearing into the crowd, gone before Feyre could scramble after her. Dancing couples closed into the space she left, pushing Feyre closer to the dark haired stranger.

“Hi,” she whispered, hoping he would blame her breathlessness on the dancing. “I’m Feyre.”

“Hi Feyre,” he said, flashing her a cat-like grin. “Care to dance?”

Feyre hadn’t even realized she had stopped. “Of course,” she said, though the music had become a distant white noise.

Embrace your sluttiness, Feyre chided herself, thinking of the way she and Mor had just been grinding against each other. With a slow, steadying breath, Feyre stepped closer to him. He was so tall that she could just barely wind her arms around his neck, and she was suddenly grateful she’d opted to wear heels despite how her feet were already aching.

His hands fell to her hips, warm and broad and far too respectful, considering she’d just pressed the entire front of her body against his.

“What’s your name?” She tried to mimic the way Mor had spoken to her just a moment ago—low and husky, sensual like the fragrant smoke blowing over the hard-tiled floor.

“Rhysand,” he said. “But my friends call me Rhys.”

“Rhys,” Feyre echoed, letting her tongue linger on the word, the same way she wanted to let it linger over the brown, tattooed skin she saw peeking through his black collared shirt. Why did that name sound familiar? She dropped one hand to his elbow, pushing it forward so that his hand slid around the curve of her hip and landed firmly on her ass.

“And what do your lovers call you, Rhys?”

“That depends,” he murmured. Those decadent eyes darkened, dropping to her mouth. “What would you like to call me?”

Daddy? She thought, feeling her entire body heat at the suggestion. That was clearly the tequila talking. Ordinarily, she would never dream of saying something like that out loud and now the word hung dangerously on her tongue.

She nearly said it. But she wasn’t that drunk yet.

Instead, Feyre took a solid moment to compose herself. Rhysand was staring at her expectantly, hardly dancing despite how their hips were flush and his palm pressed into her ass. She liked that he was patient, waiting to follow her lead, taking only what he was being freely given. More green flags than she was expecting from a stranger she’d picked up at a club.

With a face and body like his, she thought surely he must possess some significant shortcoming. At the very least, she expected he had to be a massive prick. But that didn’t matter. Because she wasn’t looking to marry him, or even have a conversation with him. He could be a self-absorbed asshole for all she cared, because after tonight she was never going to see him again. Which meant she could be bolder, say whatever she whatever—be whoever she wanted.

Feyre leaned up, curling her finger around his biceps to steady herself so that she could press her lips to his ear. “Tonight, Rhysand, I want to call you mine.”

He had to shout over the music to be heard. “Yours?”

“Yes,” she crooned, starting to feel the alcohol loosen her body, urging her to be brave, to be reckless. “Tonight, you’re only allowed to dance with me.”

The scent of his cologne tangled in the air, dark and heady like a raging ocean storm. There was no greater freedom that Feyre could imagine than throwing her arms open to the embrace of whipping wind, feeling the sea-spray in her hair and letting the riptide carry her to the vast horizon. At least for tonight, she wanted to drown in him and emerge someone new. Someone carefree and wild who couldn’t remember Tamlin’s name or why her heart was fractured.

Tonight, Rhys was hers. And she was his.

“Are you the jealous type, Feyre?”

From the way he posed the question, Feyre had the sense he found that appealing.

“I don’t like seeing people touch my belongings,” she said, playing into her new role. A seductress—an entirely different woman from the dull, caged-in Feyre who had walked through the door under an hour ago. “Unless that doesn’t apply to you?”

“Oh, Feyre darling,” Rhysand pulled away so that she could see the full extent of his grin. “I was yours from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

-

They’d hardly stumbled through the front door when Feyre’s back hit the wall. Her dress was already hiked up her hips. The hem had first slipped up when she’d wrapped her legs around Rhysand’s waist as they were coming up the stairs, and the hand he’d edged along her inner thigh certainly hadn’t done anything to help.

The fabric had been ungodly short already. Or at least, that’s what Rhysand had complained to her throughout the last several hours she’d spent grinding her barely clothed ass against him.

He said it one more time for good measure, gasping it against her lips—”This dress is going to kill me.”

“Then take it off.”

“Believe me, I have every intention of seeing you undressed,” he said. His eyes dipped to the cleavage spilling out to tops of the v-shaped neckline. He groaned, ducking his head to leave a trail of nipping kisses along the edge of the seam. With his face practically buried in her chest, he growled, “But first, I’m going to fuck you with it on.”

“Rhys—”

“Right here,” he interrupted, rolling his hips forward for emphasis. “Against this wall.”

His erection was thick, pressing through his trousers so that she could feel its shape perfectly against the soaked lace of her underwear.

Her response was compulsive and utterly reluctant. “I have a roommate.”

His head snapped up, rising from her chest to search her face for a moment, before he flashed her a shameless smile. “Better hope you can keep quiet, then.”

Oh, holy forgotten gods. Feyre’s muscles clenched at the idea—of the ways that he could help her to ensure she stayed quiet, picturing those large hands wrapping over her mouth. Or better yet, her throat. But they were both drunk, and likely incapable of staying quiet, and she was going to say more to protest, but he cut her off by slipping a hand between her thighs.

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath, at the same time Feyre whimpered from the feeling of his thumb swiping against her clit. “Have you been this wet all night, Feyre?”

Yes. It was a show of extraordinary self control that she hadn’t asked Rhysand to take her in one of the alleyways behind Rita’s, like she’d contemplated doing several times when he’d been slowly grinding against her ass and whispering absolute filth into her ear.

Filth like describing what he was doing at this very moment, sliding her underwear down her legs.

He asked, almost casually, “Do you think you’ll need something to help you stay quiet?”

Surely he wasn’t suggesting…? Feyre bit her lip, feeling an anticipated thrill spike through her.

Trying her best to summon the seductress from Rita’s, she asked, “I think that depends on how confident you feel about your own… skill set.”

Rhysand clicked his tongue. “So bratty, Feyre.” He’d managed to slide her panties down her legs now, and she watched in disbelief as he balled them in his fist and raised the wet, crumbled fabric to her lips. “Open.”

She stared for a moment, unblinking, realizing that she’d never actually tasted herself before—except for the rare moments she’d been kissed after someone had gone down on her. It had never been unpleasant, but it had always been brief, accidental.

As if sensing her train of thought, or merely observing her hesitation, Rhysand licked her arousal off his fingers and smiled. “Don’t worry, darling. You taste exquisite.”

A bit dumbfounded, Feyre obediently parted her lips, allowing Rhysand to slip the balled up underwear into her mouth. The cotton stuck to her tongue, wet and tangy from her own arousal.

“Good girl, Feyre,” he said, stirring something dangerous and exhilarating inside of her. His thumb and forefinger squeezed against her cheeks, as if feeling the space the underwear took up in her mouth. “Do you taste how wet you are? So eager to be fucked.”

Her cheeks were heating up, embarrassed and aroused and trying to wade between those two conflicting feelings. No one had ever talked to her this way in the bedroom before. They weren’t even in the bedroom, and a strange part of her was getting off on the idea that Alis could walk out and find them like this, with her underwear in her mouth and a stranger praising her for being such an eager slut.

Rhysand’s fingers returned to her pussy, gliding through the wetness to tease at her entrance. She gasped, the sound smothered against her underwear, as he slowly slid a finger inside her, then another, sliding them both to the knuckle.

“Fuck,” he swore again. “I usually like to—I wanted to make you come first. On my fingers. But you’re so wet, Feyre. I think I could fuck you just like this. And I could put you on my tongue afterwards.”

Feyre’s head fell back against the wall. She bucked her hips forward, hoping her meaning was clear—just fuck me already, you asshole.

He laughed, hurriedly dropping a hand to his belt buckle to free himself from his trousers. She watched, saliva collecting in the recesses of her mouth as Rhys pushed his pants down just enough to free himself. He took his cock into his fist, pumping the thick length with two casual strokes before he adjusted himself at her entrance.

Feyre dug her fingers into his shoulder. She didn’t think any partner had ever been as big as he was, and it had been almost three months since she and Tamlin had last had sex.

“Is this what you want?” Rhys asked, pausing with his flushed head right against her cunt. She could feel it throbbing against her—or maybe that was her own ache building, so unbearable at times throughout the night that she’d barely resisted the urge to beg him to just bend her over one of the tables at Rita’s.

She thought of the last tequila shot they’d had before they left, how he’d poured the salt line against her throat, the way his tongue had scorched a path over her skin.

With a small, exasperated huff, Feyre ground against the head of his cock, trying to fuck herself on him if that’s what it would take.

That earned another cruel laugh. “I guess that answers my question,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers. “Pretty, needy thing.”

Then, with her head still spinning from his praise, Rhysand thrust his hips forward. Feyre’s hands turned to fists against his shirt.

“Oh, fuck,” Rhys choked out, all of his suave confidence suddenly forgotten.

Feyre was forgetting everything, too. Like how to breathe. There was no room for air in her body anymore. It was being squeezed out of her, escaping in a single, surprised gurgle as she became aware of every nerve, blazing white-hot while her body searched for a way to accommodate the space that Rhysand was demanding.

The wall at her back became a cool, solid extension of his body, caging her against him, leaving no space to squirm away as the head of his cock pushed into a group of nerves that had Feyre clenching around him, desperate to escape because otherwise she would scream and surely wake up Alis. Rhys felt it, because his eyes went wide, and a moment later one of his large hands was covering her mouth.

His eyes were dark, the color of the night sky when the moon was swallowed whole. “Right there?” he asked, stilling his hips, lingering against the spot that was causing splotches to dot her vision.

Feyre’s head lulled back, wondering if she found a version of euphoria that was so pure, it bordered on pain. She started babbling nonsense around the underwear, rendered into wet and smothered sounds against his hand while she began writhing desperately against him, grinding his dull head against that cluster of nerves over and over—until she was drunk on it, on him, on the way he swore softly beneath his breath and whispered, “That’s it Feyre. Use me. Fuck yourself on my cock.”

He allowed her a moment to chase her own pleasure, his full lips splitting open in awe, eyes half-lidded as he watched her grind her hips. Then, he started meeting her with slow, precise motions, keeping himself directly in that spot so that he was fucking her there, forcing her to come undone with every tortuous roll of his hips.

“Gods, Feyre,” he panted. “You should see yourself like this. You’re so beautiful. Letting me fuck you in your little dress. You’re so—” he halted, their hips flush together so that he could grind against that spot in one slow, deliberate movement that had Feyre heaving, spluttering against the underwear and his hand as she felt herself tighten around him. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.”

Her nails bit into his skin. She knew it must have hurt, but he only groaned, saying nothing in protest as she slid one hand into his hair and tugged. She wasn’t even certain what she was trying to tell him. Fuck me or harder or don’t stop. Or just please.

Please, please please.

It didn’t matter. Rhysand’s breathing was ragged, practically as undone as she was as his hips continued their onslaught. The momentum pushed her into the wall with every thrust, resulting in a dull thumping noise that nearly drowned out the sound of their slapping skin, or her gushing arousal, or the wanton moans he smothered with his palm.

His pace staggered a bit, and she thought he must have been close because he opted to drop his hand from her mouth in favor of rubbing her clit. She could feel her own drool against his fingers, wet as he circled them between her thighs. Some of it was still dribbling over her chin, but the mess that she’d become was the last thing on her mind while she bit down fiercely on her underwear in an effort not to scream.

Feyre didn’t know how to tell him that she was going to come. She tugged on his hair, a low whine building in her throat.

That must have been enough, because he whispered, “Oh, Feyre—baby, I know. Look at me, darling.” It was an effort, but she pulled her head upwards, meeting his burning violet eyes. “Such a good girl. You’re going to come for me, yeah?”

She nodded, knowing her eyes were as wide and wild as his own. Feyre didn’t know why, but in the midst of the surge of pleasure ratcheting up her spine, she felt suddenly tempted to reach up and brush aside some of the hair that was plastered to his forehead. She wanted to see his face, memorize the shape of his mouth as it slackened into an open ‘o’, moments before he leaned forward to kiss her—undeterred by the drool or the underwear or her desperate gasp for air as the mix of sensations threatened to drown her whole.

Rhysand groaned. The vibration lingered on her lips, then rippled, the final push to topple her over the edge. Feyre jerked her hips, uncertain if she was trying to escape or chase the ecstasy violently crashing over her body, causing every muscle to contract. Rhys kept her still, kept the rhythm of his fingers steady even as his own pace faltered. He gasped into her mouth, driving his cock deeper before his body stilled and she could feel the distant, pleasantly warm sensation of his release.

For a moment, the hallway went starkly quiet, disturbed only by their ragged breathing. Their chests rose and fell, brushing idly against each other like the sea over the shore. Eventually, Rhysand was the first to move—pulling his fingers from her clit so that he could push them into her mouth and pry the underwear free.

It made a horrifying squelching sound as the fabric hit the floor. Feyre met his eyes, mortified, but his lips were already stretching into a smile that immediately chased away her concern. He thought it was funny. That tugged a small smile to her lips too, and then they were laughing softly together as Rhysand errantly swiped his thumb over her chin, wiping away the excess saliva.

“Do you think we woke up your roommate?” he asked.

“If not, we can always try again. In my bedroom, this time.”

Rhys grinned. His hands slid down to support her weight so that he could pull them away from the wall. “Which door is yours?”

-

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit—Shit!”

There was a soft knock on the bathroom door.

“Feyre?” Alis called. “Everything okay?”

“Just a minute,” Feyre called, in a voice which betrayed that everything was most definitely not okay.

She raised the small, digital stick closer to her face out of some misguided hope that the double lines were just a trick of the light. There was no way she was actually pregnant. She was on the pill, and she’d been taking the doses mostly on time.

Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic—

“Shit.”

#Take My Hand Wreck My Plans #Feysandweek2023 #feysand #feysand fanfic #feysand fanfiction #feysand fic #Feyre x Rhys #Rhys x Feyre #Feyre x Rhysand #Rhysand x Feyre

[alienpossession]

Body a Day 30: Pecs

He was skinny and pretty much self-aware, shy nerd. The idea of going to the gym terrified him, especially with the fact that he was homeschooled all the way until what supposed to be his senior year now. But then, the alien that crash-landed on his backyard during the summer changed the course of his life, because not only the alien physically manipulated the nerd, it mentally conditioned him to ensure its expansion

Gone are the days when his days comprises with only hours of tutoring and video games. Even during winter, he still worked himself out in the gym for 3-4 hours per day.

He would hit the gym in the sluttiest possible outfit to maximize the seductive impact he now possessed, and he's not shy to make the advance if he spotted that the other party is interested or taking too long of a glance. Six months normally wouldn't generate such drastic changes in normal people, but the nerd has turned 180 degree different with the ballooning pecs, rippling abs and sensational quads that put people in awe or envy due to its perfect proportion. The tattoos added some nice rugged addition to his look, and the beard and thickening hair helped to make him look like at least a college senior rather than a barely-turned-18 years old high school senior.

He's not shy to show off his body nowadays, and a lot of the town folks wondered how on Earth a studly piece of meat like him never entered formal schooling. Because if there's one thing the town lacks off is a sport hero they can rally behind, and he seemed like he built for that. They all remembered that the reasons mentioned by his parents were mostly about their son social anxiety and also frail physique, but nothing's frail or socially inept exuded from the walking sex god. When confronted about the massive changes (and the frequent sex he has with plenty of the townsfolk), as if glazed or something, his parents just said that the nerd is still their sweet, loving son who cannot possibly do such things accused to them. The townsfolk simply left in the blind that the nerd's parents already mind-fucked by their own alien-infused-son and just see a parents loving their son unconditionally. Other than that, the townsfolk also left in the blind that the people around them that already fucked by the former nerd practically became an unwilling vessel for the budding aliens that grow inside them undetected. Be it men or women, the seed can grow to take control of the human they were laid into, and no one can even tell when the person's already not themselves any longer and the alien already over-ride the control of their body. The parents are one of them, and some of his early sexual conquest too, but sooner or later, everyone will take the seed and get splashed by the water-like substance coming out from his lactating huge pecs that will help the growing process of the seed on their body and getting mind-fucked by it when the time has come. By the time they realized that inside their body, there's another consciousness lurking in the dark, it's going to be too late already to reverse or halt the process as they will succumb to the control of the invading alien. With this rate, he will help everyone on his wrap before Easter next year and then off he goes to university where he can reach wider populace.

---

This marks the end of my Body a Day posting activity. Thanks @max-the-many for the prompt, I wouldn't get to 100 posts this fast without the self-push coming to scratch off the prompt list lol. I think I'll take a break (2 weeks or so) from posting unless something really come to my mind. Thanks for all the support!

#body a day #alien possession #alien takeover #male possession #alien expansion #male muscle growth

[ladylooch]

Loving & Leaving- Part 3

Visit the series page here.

A/N: Eep! I am so excited you all are loving this. It bring me so much joy. I am legit giddy posting this next chapter 😁 I hope you love it. This fic is consuming so much of my writing time. I'm very focused on getting these two right. I know I've nailed it when I'm editing and feel the way I want the reader to feel.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ Content!, Swearing, Angsty, jealousy, poor choices. ha!

Halloween was five days ago, but by the look of the streets of Hoboken, you wouldn’t know. Being from Switzerland, we don’t celebrate Halloween. But when I surprised Nico with a quick visit to America, he insisted I needed to join for the team’s get together, which had to be moved into November because of a Halloween away game. Usually, it’s done at someone’s house, but this year, no one really wanted to host, so we are heading to the bar the team frequents after home wins. Currently, I’m doing the female right of passage by freezing my ass off as we shuffle down the street. Tinker Bell was probably not the warmest choice for me, but it is definitely the sluttiest. Paired with a short, sequined green dress and a thin pair of wings, my emerald high heels reflect the yellowy hue of the New Jersey street lights.

Despite the cold, I look hot. We walk by several groups of people loitering around. I can feel eyes follow me as I move forward. My confidence grows as I smirk, weaving my arm through my brothers for balance as the sidewalk gets a little rocky. Nico wraps a secure hand around my waist before pointing to my right. There is a line to get in, unless you’re with a professional hockey player. The bass of Salt Shaker by Ying Yang Twins rattles my teeth in my head when we step into the dark space. It’s packed with any character you can imagine. I grin, looking at Nico, silently agreeing that this is going to be just as fun as he promised.

Which is exactly what I need.

Ever since Timo left me at the end of the driveway, life has taken on a shade of gray. Work has felt more like a chore than a passion. I passively agreed to a few dates with a friend’s friend, which has been fine, but nothing I want to pursue further. I’ve found myself dreaming of America, which is why I booked a quick ticket two weeks ago, then called Nico to share the news. He was surprised. I’ll be back here for Christmas and two, long international trips in a row is new behavior for me. 

“I’ll never say no to a visit from you.” He concluded. And it was set. 

In a red wine clouded night, I texted Timo last week to let him know I would be in town. I’m still waiting on a response. Despite his silence, I know he’s here tonight, and ignoring me when I look this good, won’t be easy for him. The group of Devils is sitting at the back of the bar in their usually spot. Nico leads the way, my hand on the back of his firefighter costume to not get lost in the sea of people. 

When we reach the group, my eyes immediately find Timo. He is to my right, chatting with Dawson Mercer. He looks up as he laughs, eyes catching mine. I see him visibly suck in a breath before his eyes rake over my whole costume. He tries to hide the flicker of desire, but I know him better than that.

“Boys, you remember my sister, Emma.” Nico introduces me to the table. All the boys give drink tilts or waves except for Timo, who is suddenly fixated on a busty cat at the other table. My eyebrows tug together. He’s not fooling me, but fine, he wants to be like that, I won’t make it easy. I make my way around the table, patting each of the boys on the back until I get to the empty seat next to Timo. I plop right down next to him, grabbing his beer from his hand and chugging the rest of it. 

“Uh. You’re welcome?” He questions with a snip.

“Just couldn’t wait. Go get me another.” He stares me down, blue eyes tumultuous. The cat is distracted by Ted Lasso and leaves to trail after him. Timo sighs in reservation of an opportunity blown. His chair scrapes the wood floor harshly as he knocks back from the table to go to the bar. 

“Here.” He slams the golden liquid down on the table. Some of it sloshes down the glass and puddles on the table. “Kinda bullshit considering you don’t like beer.”

“Oh, I like beer. It just doesn’t like me.” It turns me into a sloppy lightweight drunk, which he is well aware of. I chug a few more sips, licking the foam from my top lip without taking my eyes from his. A whole conversation silently passed between us.

“I said I’m done.” He reminds me. Not sure who he’s trying to convince here cause he devours my lips as they plump in disbelief.

“We’ll see. Too cool for a costume?” I gesture to his white tuxedo. It’s probably a little fancier than his usual attire, but not completely out of character.

“I’m James Bond.”

“Without a martini?”

“What are you?”

“Tinker Bell.” I point to the wings on my back. His eyes hover at the way my skirt hikes further up my thigh as I cross my leg. My bare ass is practically hanging out.

“I can’t believe your brother let you out like that. And where is your coat? It’s like 30 degrees out.” I have to suck my cheeks in to avoid a smile. Even when he’s hurt and mad at me, he cares.

“Hot girls get hypothermia on Halloween. It’s like a right of passage.” I shrug.

“What do you know about Halloween?” He squints, licking his lips after a taste of his beer.

“Not much. But I know how good I look tonight.” I flick my hair back off my shoulder, scrunching it up and tossing him a kiss. “Play your cards right, Bond, and you’ll be the one in my bed.” He laughs without humor, leaning forward until he crowds my space. His cologne assaults my nose, mixing with my flowery perfume. They’re complimentary scents. His gaze drags over my face; a hint of interest is quickly squashed with a cold stare.

“I think it’s time for me to be the clear one. All you are to me tonight is my teammates’ sister.” My eyebrows draw tight together in shock. “Have a good night, Emma.” He pushes back from his chair again, following a few of his teammates across the bar to the pool tables.

What the fuck just happened?

- - - 

My ears pound in steady pulses at both the loud music and my beer buzz. I sway as I attempt to return from the bathroom, bumping into Waldo. 

“Sorry.” I mutter, patting his arm in acknowledgement before moving on. I get back to the group of Devils, standing next to my brother so he knows I’m back from my bathroom break. Nico hands me back my beer without looking at me. 

I feel so invisible tonight. My brother doesn’t care- too busy chatting up a Powderpuff girl. Timo has been gone from the group since he referred to me as his teammate’s sister. I drunkenly snort at the memory. Sure, he must cum in all his teammate’s sisters then. I slump against Nico’s shoulder, slinging my arm around them and drawing his attention.

“Ah..” He coughs out, wiggling away from me. “My sister, Emma.” He tells the Pink Powderpuff.

“OMG! My Big is named Emma!” She shouts excitedly. I glance at Nico who shrugs. I stare back at him like, really? This one? He grins, shrugging again, silently indicating he is interested in her for only one thing… and one night. 

“So fun.” I respond, tossing a fake smile on my lips. The sounds of Party in the U.S.A. blast over the speakers, so Blossom drags my brother out onto the makeshift dance floor. I shake my head at him, rolling my eyes at his choices.

That’s when I see him, pressed tightly up with another blonde. What is with him and blue eyed blondes? I have dark, chestnut hair and eyes. What’s he trying to prove here? I grab my beer, chugging down a few hefty sips before slamming the glass back on the table. He’s doing this to torture me. They’re standing close together, talking and taking fast drinks of their High Noons. He told me he didn’t like those. His smile is genuine, crinkling the corners of his eyes. I can almost hear his soft laughter from here.

She snakes an arm around his hips, stepping closer. He does the same, putting his hands on her hips. I swear a piece of my soul dies when he leans even closer to hear her speak. After months of feeling numb, I want to feel something. Anything. And he’s right here in front of me, acting like I’m nothing to him now. I can’t stand it. I want to lash out, scream, pull his face to mine and shove my tongue into his mouth until he kisses me back with as much desperation as I feel in blood right now. Instead of going to tell him that, I grab the first Devils player I can, stepping into his embrace. It’s John Marino.

“Hey.” He grins. I smile back, then slide behind him to look at Timo. His eyes are still on the blonde. If it was quieter in here, John could hear my whimper. John's hands are firmly in respectable places on my waist, barely touching me. I give him an easy smile, stepping closer so our bodies touch all along our fronts.

“You look like a good time.” I murmur to him, running my hands through the long strands of his brown hair. He’s dressed as Buzz Lightyear, dome helmet flipped up. “Can you breathe like that?” I joke, fingering the plastic.

“Barely, but not cause of the helmet.” I laugh easily, crossing my wrists at the back of his neck as we sway together. His hand slides down my lower back. A heat runs through my body that has nothing to do with John. It’s Timo. He’s watching now. I encourage John to put his hands lower, going to my tip toes to whisper in his ear. 

“Must be my pixie dust.”

“It’s putting a spell on me.” His obvious interest guides his hands further down until he grips my ass in both hands. I’m guided by the ache in my chest for Timo and the undivided attention I’m getting. Maybe I could have someone else tonight, just to forget about him. He doesn’t care. He’s obsessed with anyone who isn’t me in this bar. I grin at John, tilting my lips up towards his. They never meet. A different hand comes around my waist, pulling me back into a solid, familiar chest and out of John's grip.

“That’s enough. She’s Nico’s sister for fucks sake.” Timo growls. John holds his hands up, backing away, clearly heading the warning from his left wing. It’s not John's fault. He doesn’t know who I used to belong to. Which is exactly the look Timo gives me when his blue eyes pierce mine.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Timo snarls, strong hands holding my hips in place when I try to wiggle away.

“Leave me alone.” I shoving off his chest. It’s a weak attempt and my fingers curl in, groping him more than anything else.

“You’re just doing this shit on purpose.” He spits out in disgust. Like he wasn’t just feeling up a cat? Pfffft.

“At least I’m not grinding with Jersey TRASH.” I snort. “That girl? What the fuck does she have that I don’t?” I gesture to my short green dress that doesn’t leave much to the imagination.

Woof, I’m drunk. And desperate.

He stares back at me. His hands are still fastened to my hips, squinting in the low lighting of the bar as the world moves around us. Then, he leans forward, resting his mouth close to my ear as he looks beyond me to where the rest of the team still sits.

“Emma, you know how perfect you are to me. But you are killing me. I’m trying to move on with my life.” Fear grips my stomach, icing my buzz and my anger. I don’t want him to move on. I want him to bring me home, falling each other and forget anything else but how good it feels when we are together.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” I stutter.

“Do you need to go to the bathroom?” He looks around for a sign as to where they are. He starts tugging me that way, but I stop him.

“I just want to go home.” Something about the look on my face softens him. His touch becomes gentle and safe again. It reminds me of when it’s been late, our third time around, and he’s trying to soothe the angry, red rashes he made along my hips and breasts. 

“I’ll take you.” He whispers into my ear, lips slicing across my cheek.

I wrap my arm around his waist, putting my face against his pec. One of his hands moves up to my head, caressing me to his chest. He drops a kiss there then calls across the bar to my brother. I feel him motion around and Nico must understand because he doesn’t follow us out. When I hit the nippy air, I chatter in my skimpy costume. Timo shrugs his winter jacket off, wrapping it around my body as we walk the two blocks back to their apartment building. It’s not enough, so he keeps his arm around my shoulder, his body heat transferring to me. He drops his arms when we enter the building together.

“You drive me crazy.” He mutters when we are in the elevator, rolling his eyes and stretching his tense neck out. I think back to the girl at the bar, wondering if he wishes she was here instead. They would ride up to his place together. Maybe she would get on her knees and take him deep into her mouth until he couldn’t take it anymore. My stomach twists again.

I stare down at my heels in silence after that visual. I feel gross. My heavy make up is clogging my pores with each passing second. My feet hurt. The elevator spins and Timo looks like he would rather be anywhere than here with me. Tears make the floor fade as the door opens on the 13th floor. No attempt to stop at the 10th this time. Timo waits for me to step out first.

“Let’s get you in bed.” He encourages with a friendly hand on the upper back.

I dig around in my purse until I find my keys, giving them to Timo to open Nico’s apartment. He pushes the door open, allowing me to walk through first. I sulk in, tossing my purse on the floor, punting my heels off. The door quietly clicks shut. I whip my head around.

“I’m still here.” He kicks his expensive sneakers off and moves towards me with his hands in his pockets. I watch his approach with frustrated eyes. I am riding a rollercoaster of emotions right now. I hate him. I want him. I can’t stand to be in the same room with him. I think I’ll die if he leaves here without touching me. He sees all of this on my face as he stops in front of me. 

“Why are you still here?” I ask. 

“I don’t know.” He whispers back.

He doesn’t remove his hands from his pockets. He doesn’t step forward to touch me. Nothing. He just stares back at me like I’m some ticking bomb he should run in the opposite direction from. I hate it. Agitation builds in my body and makes my skin crawl. The elastic of the wings begins to feel like it’s cutting off the circulation in my arms. I try to wiggle my way out of them, getting frustrated.

“Fucking, stupid, cheap, pieces of crap.” I mutter, tugging at the white elastic to try and get free.

“Let me help.” Timo says, gripping my hand to stop my movements. He easily loops his fingers through the two straps, tugging them off my arms as I let them dangle behind my back. 

“Thank you.” I whisper then bite my cheek. “Can you get my-” I already feel his touch on the zipper of my dress, working it slowly down, tooth by tooth, exposing my bare back and the top part of my butt. I hold my breath as he gets to the end. His strong hands spiral around my ribs to my stomach, pulling me back into his hard erection. I rest the back of my head on his shoulder and sigh.

“All night, I’ve been wondering if you were wearing anything under this. I wish I didn’t know.” He murmurs in my ear. My hair brushes along my cheek from his breath. I hear him swallow hard. “I should leave.” I don’t breathe, just continue to stare straight ahead at the hallway in front of me. I reach for his fingers, lacing mine between them and moving our hands to my hips, pushing the dress out so it falls down my body. Then, I bring them up my body, balancing the weight of my breasts in our hands. 

“Jesus, Em. You’re making this so hard on me.”

“I know. I can feel it.”

“We are supposed to be done with each other.” He swipes his fingers across my hard nipples like he’s already forgotten his words. A flicker of hurt hangs in the air from his tone, but then I release one of his hands to cup his hard erection and it disappears into the desire between us. He rolls his hips into my touch.

“There are some things a girl just can’t quit. You’re one of them, Timo Meier.” 

He spins me fast to face him. My lips tilt up to meet his and he kisses me back with frenzy. Our mouthes devour each other greedily. His hands run everywhere and nowhere on my body. I grope at his back, then run my hands over his taut ass, squeezing us tight together. He grinds his hips into me, pushing his erection against my stomach. His lips move from my mouth to my jaw, then down to my throat where he sucks my skin into his mouth.

“Missed how you feel in my hands, baby.” He murmurs, tongue lapping at the bruise that will go back with me to Switzerland on Sunday. I close my eyes, savoring the way he praises me. God, I missed his sweet words and strong, greedy hands.

We completely forget about being in the middle of the apartment. I shove at his white tuxedo jacket. He helps work it off his strong biceps. I pull back to stare at the suspenders running up and over his shoulders. I aggressively bite my bottom lip and snap them with my hands. He laughs, running his hands along my thighs to pick me up. I shove the straps from his shoulders then get to work on his white buttons. 

“Cheater.” I murmur, unsnapping his bowtie when I’m done.

“Bow ties are not my strong point.” He insists as he carefully lays me down on the dining room table. He pulls his wallet out of his pants, tossing it to the left of me for easy access.  I watch him, legs spread wide, as he gazes at my folds while undoing his pants. “You guys use this table?”

“No. We eat at the counter.” I laugh as he steps out of his pants. His boxer briefs slide down next and I groan at the sight of him jutting out, rigid and already seeping from the tip.

“That’s good. I’m going to ruin it for you.” I chuckle, reaching up for him. His lips come to mine again, a little less aggressive than before. He takes his time, savoring the feeling of me. His tongue glides along the seam then strokes against mine. I melt in his hands as they come around to protect my head from the wood. Timo sighs heavily into my mouth and I hook my ankles around his butt. He moves his bare cock through my wetness, teasing me, building the tension until my inner muscles pulse around an aching emptiness.

“Love me.” I moan out. He pulls back, searching my face. “Please. Like you said you do.”

“Not how I saw this night going.” He chuckles honestly, smoothing my wild hair back from where a piece of it had been stuck between our mouthes.

“Me either.” I answer honestly. But I ache in so many more places than just my core. My heart beats heavy in my chest, needing to feel a connection with him.

He reaches for a condom in his wallet he had tossed on the table. I grab it from his hands, throwing it to the floor.

“I want you like last time.” He hesitates, nostrils flaring, eyes trailing along my bare body, savoring every curve with his blue gaze. “I’m clean. No one else.”

“Me too.” Relief courses through me.

“Really?”

“Yeah, Em. Not interested in anyone else.” He says it to me like it’s a reminder. The familiar sound of his I love you in Switzerland causes my legs to spread wider for him.

“Show me what you thought about doing to me while we have been apart.” He moans, dropping his face to my lips again.

“I love you like this. So needy and desperate for me to fill you.” He says between teasing strokes again. He grips his cock, steadying his head against my entrance, then gliding his hips forward. My body releases in ecstasy at the feeling of him there.

“Ohmygod.” My eyebrows pull tight together in pleasure. I swallow, then gnaw on my lip as he puts his hands under my hips to pull me farther off the table. Then, he covers my body with his. His hands lace with both of mine and he makes love to me just like I begged. His thrusts are slow and sweet, focused only on my pleasure. He’s deep and generous with each thrust. I stare at him, knowing I’m falling in love with him. He brings his mouth down to mine and our tongues sloppily connect. The table begins to rattle from our movements as I match each of Timo’s deep thrusts with a moan.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He sighs into my mouth.

“Me too. Hate being home without you now.” I admit. I shouldn’t say that to him in the heat of the moment, but it’s true. I do. It’s why I’m here, as much as my brother thinks it is for him.

“I’m sorry I left you like that this summer.” He says, stroking a bit faster into me. “I hate myself for it.”

“It’s okay. I know you had to.” I bring his lips back to mine. “God damn it.” I shout as he fucks harder into me. My orgasm is pulsing within me, squeezing him with each pump.

“Say my name, sweetheart.” I moan it back to him. He puts his lips on mine afterwards, fucking me steadily as I shiver beneath him then collapse into the first wave of my orgasm. “Tell me I can come inside of you. Please.” He sounds tortured.

“Yes. God, yes. Please.” The way we both beg for each other causes a wildness between us. I moan as my second orgasm builds with his faster pumps. I shout his name as I come again, fast, harder this time. Tingles of pleasure rush down my legs so they become limp around his waist. His cum shoots out, filling me, coating my walls in the most intimate way. I grip his shoulders, shoving my face into his neck so I can feel every beat of his heart and gasping breath.

That was without a doubt the best sex we have ever had.

Timo turns his head to kiss my swollen lips. He moans into my mouth as he sputters more into me. His hands rock my hips back into him again as my feminine grunt encourages him more.

“Take me again. Just like that.” I whimper when he tries to pull away.

“Okay, but let’s go to my bed.” He kisses along my face before pulling out of me.

The second time, in Timo’s bed, surrounded by the pieces of his life, is even better.

“You fit perfectly here. Like you could just stay here forever.” He coos when we are done with a third round that started in the shower and ended on the floor of his bedroom, fingers brushing my hair back from my forehead. 

“Tell me more.” I sigh, flicking my gaze on his. Fueled by love and afterglow, I barely protest as he begins to say all the usual things about the life he can give to me and all the adventures we can share together. I say nothing, just listen to him speak, thinking about what awaits for me back home. In comparison to this feeling, that life doesn’t matter much to me anymore. I think about telling him that, but it’s late and we’re both high on orgasmic bliss and it doesn’t feel completely right yet.

“You act like Switzerland doesn’t have anything to offer me. You Swiss boys dream too much.” I rub my fingers along his corse stubble. He shakes his head at me.

“Just give in to me, Hischier.” 

“Maybe tomorrow.” A soft smile stretches my lips apart. He sighs out a laugh, pressing his mouth over mine. We lazily twirl our tongues together, savoring the feeling of being in each others arms again.

By midnight, we are asleep in a tangle of naked limbs, having no idea what we’ve just done.

#TM: Loving & Leaving #Timo Meier #Timo Meier Smut #hockey writing #New Jersey Devils #NHL fan fiction

[negrowhat]

Hello Lovely,

This message is here to request that you share, overshare, word-vomit, Ted Talk™, or pontificate about any subject you feel particular feelings or emotions about. It can be a current interest, something you are curious about, a show/book/music group you're really into, or just overall general knowledge you feel like sharing.

So please share with me something that you find interesting, and I hope you have an amazingly wonderful day.

💜🌻

Hello Lovely! Right now I'm just really vibing with the series I'm watching right now. I took a little break from BLs for like idk 2 or 3 months and idk as soon as November hit we were gifted some really good end of the year series. Series I genuinely feel excited to watch. We're getting back actors we haven't seen for awhile. Billy, Pavel, Nut, and Kaownah??? OFFGUN ARE BACK TOO! I haven't seen them in awhile and I'm super excited to see them on my TV again.

I've been waiting all year to get some decent action plots and now I have three series. Gangster Oppa has been such a treat. Meen is doing the gangster role well. Love to see Tew actually rough people up and have people cower in fear around him and then he turns into this big sweet softie for Guy. Sad he's quitting the life but whatever makes Guy happy. Also I love Guy, he's the cutest and sweetest boy and I want to protect him forever.

Pit Babe, I still don't quite know what's going on but gotdamn Pavel as Babe is epic. That character was made for Pavel, he lives that life anyway. 90% of his pics he's leather clad, smirking, and straddling a motorcycle. Also the bottom discourse has been wild to see, Pavel is really fucking with people's preconceived checklist of what a top should look like. Meanwhile I'm just enjoying Babe be the world's sluttiest Alpha speed racer. Also IDK if Way is going to be good or bad in the end, but I'm just loving seeing Nut Supanut's face on my screen.

The Sign just started and I'm already obsessed. Saint has produced another banger, but I wasn't worried he did give us SCOY and GAP. The Sign has a bigger budget and they went all out with the production. I've missed Billy terribly and that man is so foine and he is the king of sex appeal. Alot of people felt like there was too much combat in the beginning but I ate it up. I loved all the action. I'm excited for the fantasy aspect. We have some soulmates happenings going on. Babe is new and I'm loving him as Tharn. He's quite pretty with great brows and a lovely beauty mark. He and Billy have great chemistry and I just know they're gonna have us by the neck the whole time.

Cooking Crush started today and I'm just excited to see OffGun have a more comedic series this time around. Off is so good at comedy and I'm glad his character seems to be doing the chasing for once. It's going to be very light-hearted...until the script flips and they have us SOBBING! It's only a matter of time, they have the range and none of OffGun's series stay light for long.

#my dear gangster oppa #pit babe #pit babe the series #the sign #the sign the series #cooking crush

[oneforthemunny]

I'm begging on my knees for you to just grace me with whatever Modern!Eddie thoughts you have! Halloween is around the corner, and I just know he'll wear whatever costume we tell him to (in the upmost sluttiest version, of course).

And a haunted house? What better way to getting laid than scaring his mean girlfriend, having her chastise him for being annoying, and then just fucking right there, because it turns him on so much to have you yell at him.

UGH- we've all missed you! <3

i've missed you!!!! and yes you know he goes big for halloween lol, but actually it's the one time a year he can kinda coordinate and his lil mean girl will let him lol.

i had a work/blurb started on my funsonmunson-again account (rip lol) where they went as beast boy and raven from teen titans for halloween after we agreed that he would 1000% have watched that show as a kid lol. i might resurrect it for a halloweeny work/blurb??? it was kinda smutty lol but in the best way.

i also love the haunted house prompt!! ahhhh!!!

i'm going to write both of these for sure esp bc i've been wanting some spooky requests :)

#oneforthemunny #munnytalks #modern!eddie munson

[cricketnationrise]

Ficlet Fest 👏🏻 Ficlet Fest 👏🏻 Ficlet Fest

5:17pm, Sheep’s Meadow (Central Park), Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor

FICLET FEST (my favorite time of year) enjoy!

read the rest of the ficlet fest 3 fills here

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

central park, 5:17pm

With Alex down in DC for the weekend, Henry takes himself on a date around the city to distract himself. Yesterday had been filled with meandering his way through the MOMA and soliciting hole-in-the-wall falafel places from locals. (They’d actually answered him, too – sometimes being a prince has its perks.) 

Today he’d gotten lost in an indie bookstore for a few hours, trailing his fingers along spines of old favorites and plucking out new titles based solely upon, as Alex would say, the vibes. He thinks about going home and reading in the bay window of their bedroom, but the beautiful weather draws him toward Central Park instead. For once, David isn’t with him, so Henry has more options for where to fall into a new book. He’s been itching for a chance to visit in the Sheep Meadow or eat at the Tavern on the Green, so Henry lets his feet carry him to an unoccupied tree at the edge of the meadow, and settles in for a long reading bout.

He comes back to himself in stages. The delighted shriek of a nearby child pierces through the book fog. Then his arse starts to protest sitting on the ground for so long, not letting him dive back into the story. And then his stomach’s empty rumblings make themselves known, and Henry surrenders to his body’s needs. 

Regretfully, he picks up his things, says a silent, thankful goodbye to the tree and strolls away, taking the longest route possible to the restaurant. He’s hungry, yes, but he’s not in a rush to leave this section of the park. He can feel a small smile on his face when he remembers that the first anniversary of Stonewall was celebrated here.

The restaurant has just come into view when his phone buzzes in his pocket and Henry laughs when he sees the name on the screen; apparently Alex updated his own contact card (again) before he left for the White House.

Buttercup’s Strumpet I would never go against Zahra in any way shape or form but AT LEAST three of these meetings could have been an email Miss you

Miss you too Are you free enough for me to call you while I eat dinner? I’m getting a table outside.

Buttercup’s Strumpet Yes! Wait You’re outside??? I figured you were just going to drape yourself over the chaise like the world’s sluttiest blanket waiting for your man to return

Your mind is a wonder that should be studied.

Buttercup’s Strumpet :p Call whenever you’re ready sweetheart I wanna hear all about your day

❤️ Will do.

#cricket writes #ficlet fest 3 #rwrb #red white & royal blue #ficlet #inexplicablymine

[alltimefail-sims]

Wren Opara For @mangosimoothie's The Familiar

The Basics: -> Human; They/Them (Nonbinary) -> Traits: Perfectionist, Peaceful, Snob, Neat, Party Animal -> Blood Type: B Negative -> Gay AF -> Young Adult (irl probably like 23 y.o.)

Many details below the cut! ↓

Wren grew up in a painfully high profile family. Their mother is a beloved career politician in San Myshuno who dethroned her conservative competitor at the height of his career. She's been fighting for whatever it is Democrats want people to think they care about while shaking hands with elitist bureaucrats and not getting their own child's pronouns right for years now. Wren's father, on the other hand, is a retired engineer and respectable investor currently focused on funneling money into "forward thinking, clean energy advancements." He's an effortless public speaker who is known for wiring up crowds of eager college graduates, TED talk truthers, and other alpha male types all while speaking a maximum 10 words at home on a weekly basis - but it's fine, really!

Even if Wren's parents have never so much as held hands in their presence, they do seem to agree on a couple things like: (1) Wren could be doing more with their life, (2) Wren is "hellbent on hurting the family image," and (3) Wren should try to be more like their older brother and sister who are, in Wren's opinion, not-so-secretly competing to see who can be more fucking insufferable. So yeah, everything has always been fine. Wren is the black sheep, the youngest child with a fucking communications degree (the horror!), the queer child who is constantly held to a higher standard of what their relationships need to look like, who has a penchant for lavish, expensive parties and enough fair weather friends to fill a fucking yacht. They're fine, it's all very fine...

Except when it's not. Which is often, actually, now that they're really thinking about it. Ever heard of those child geniuses who get burnout before they're 40? Wren is going through their third (maybe fourth) midlife crisis before 25, so although that's not ideal, at least people can't call Wren an underachiever. After years of doing all the right things, keeping their head down, shaking all the right hands, and being under the heavy scrutiny of the public at large and still not being good enough, they've pretty much just hit a wall. Like, what's the point? So yeah, they party and they've been in a bit of a funk. The parties are fun, and Wren loves a good time (and a good distraction), but it's all so fucking fake and lonely. Wren's exhausted.

So here they are, trying something truly wild because why the fuck not. Anything is better than living in proximity to people who view you solely as a burden or a benefit, depending on the context. Does Wren live to serve and perform well under immense pressure? Wren would argue that everyone's ass has to spend their whole life serving someone or something anyway, so you might as well try and make it worthwhile. Wren is neat, organized, has refined tastes, an eye for luxury, and they are certainly not squeamish. They wouldn't describe themselves as responsible by any means, but they do get shit done when they set their mind to it, and they're loyal.

They've worked plenty of shitty jobs in the past. They've been a Starbucks barista in a fucking yuppie ass Target on Black Friday; they cleaned bathrooms and slung drinks while working at the sluttiest, dirtiest, raunchiest club in SanMy; they've worked on their own mother's godforsaken campaign with the most miserable Midwesterners known to man; they're pretty sure they can handle just about anything. After all, Wren knows enough about Atticus and Ryan to feel, with absolute certainty, that working for them would likely be worlds better than being a second class citizen in their own life. Some risks are just worth taking, and some lives are worth leaving behind.

Wren's read that one book - Twilight or some shit? It wasn't for them. They're doubtful it was like, super accurate anyway. So they might, admittedly, have a limited knowledge on what actual vampires are like, but they're extremely open minded after doing a quick web search: "What is a vampire familiar?" and reading some guy named Vlad's wiki page. Maybe the fire under their ass comes from a renewed sense of intrigue, maybe it's sparked by the potential to change their life into something truly and uniquely their own, maybe it's just their competitive nature, but Wren is eager to prove that they're a perfect fit even for the most picky, high-profile vampires.

Some fun facts: ❤ Wren's birthday is October 28th: they don't believe in astrology, but loves to jokingly call themselves a Scorpi-ho. ❤ Has 1.7 million followers on Social Bunny. ❤ Says they are 5'10 - is actually 5'8. Will look you in the eyes and deny this with their whole chest. All their shoes give a little lift for this reason lol. ❤ Not a crier or a super "expressive"/"vulnerable" person, but deals with emotional people really well and actually finds them refreshing. ❤ People have always underestimated Wren's intelligence, but they're dangerous as fuck to have in your corner. They will tank your public image or build it back up with the skill of someone twice their age. They are a numbers whiz and a spreadsheet master in disguise. They are booked and unbothered with quiet efficiency. They work in silence and make major moves in the shadows (unlike the rest of their family but I digress). ❤ Will literally vomit if anything "Pumpkin Spice" is brought within an inch of their mouth. Deadass. ❤ Changes their hair color on such a regular basis that it has become a trending topic on multiple occasions. Loves to play around with fashion in general. ❤ Their typical "type" would be someone big, beefy, and hairy. Thems the rules and Wren is not budging. (I'm not sure if Wren is applying for this position with romance on their mind, you can do with that what you will 👀) ❤ Loves the company of artist types and musicians the most, even though Wren wouldn't consider themselves to be the conventional "creative type." ❤ Will do the worst rendition of WAP you've ever heard at karaoke after a few rounds of shots. Also loves waxing poetic at art museums and pining for beautiful men from afar. ❤ All of their tattoos and piercings were impulse decisions. ❤ Lowkey a philanthropist?! Does not make a big deal about it, but gives copious amounts of their money to charity regularly and actually volunteers often. ❤ Denies watching trash reality tv but definitely does. Has two separate Spotify accounts - one for leisure and the other perfectly and meticulously curated to share when "Spotify Wrapped" season comes along. ❤ Once royally pissed off a certain celeb's stans by (jokingly) stating on a livestream that they've "Got as many clothes in their closet as [redacted] has exes." People demanded "Accountability." They posted a link to a SimsTube video response with the title "Let's Talk (Apology)." It was not an apology, but rather a clip of them going "Wooooow, you bitches really thought. Anyway, steam Traumazine."

#I'm so sorry... I wrote a damn book lmao. But I fell in love with Wren as I was making them! #I hope you love them ❤ #For the record..it was the Swifties (ofc) who Wren pissed off lmao but I didn't want to assume she exists in your lore lmfao #katowinfamiliar #mangosimoothie #my ocs #oc: wren #simblr #sim submission #ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 #ts4 cas #my sims #If there are any typos I'm sorry but I can't edit this any more than I already have. Brain hurts. Goodnight! ❤

[emotionalsupportbastardmen]

Round one of the Bastard Man (affectionate) championshionships is complete!

Let's take a moment to appreciate everyone who got knocked out in round one, and everything I like about them.

Mammon (Obey Me)

Mammon the love of my life Mammon. </3 Yes he's a demon, yes he's the avatar of greed, yes he's "the scummy brother", but with a heart of gold, deep down inside. Very deep down. Plus he's funny and secretly sensitive and he likes to cuddle. <3 I'm honestly shocked he got knocked out in round one, I always thought he was quite a tumblr darling.

Hercule Flambeau (Father Brown)

Everyone loves a gentleman thief, don't they? Especially one with a homoerotic relationship with his narrative foil? A master of disguise? A secret sadboy with a tragic backstory? A man who broke out of prison? World's sluttiest absent father? When will your man ever.

Inspector Mallory (Father Brown)

I LOVE HIM SO MUCH YOU HAVE NO IDEA. He's such a funny character. Little angry northern bastard man. He's awful, and should be easy to hate, but he just suffers so often and suffers so beautifully, you can't help but root for him to win, just once. And he loves his kids! A short king and a DILF.

James E. Negatus (Yonderland)

Listen. Listen. I could never love anyone like I love Negatus. He occupies a special and unique part of my heart just for him. He's babygirl. He's daddy. He's cringefail. He's badass. He's gender. He's really really kinky. I cannot understate this, this is the fetish fuel show and it's like 70% his fault. He's on a mission to kill the hero but he's also sort of in love with her. I'm never not going to go feral for that. He has a tragic backstory and a softness for small children and small animals. He's canonically committed multiple warcrimes, several murders, and also demon-genocide. He's done nothing wrong ever in his life <3

Louis Fairhead (Casualty)

My sweet prince when will he return from war? It's been so long since the show ever even so much as acknowledged him. He wasn't even at his own father's wedding to a woman Louis was practically part-raised by. I think he's fallen into a crack in space and time. Anyway I love Louis. I don't even think he's a bad guy. He's had the most traumatic life imaginable. His mother died in a car accident while he was in the car. He got kidnapped once. One time he nearly got blown up. This was all before he was ten. Then as a teenager he became a drug addict. And as a young adult he had a heroin overdose. I think he's within his rights to be an angry and emotionally distant man. I would defend him to the death. I just want him to be safe and happy and healthy. Feel like pure shit just want him back.

Aristide Valentin (the Father Brown books)

First of all Aristide Valentin did nothing wrong so jot that down. YES he committed murder. But he murdered a Catholic pro-guillotine billionaire so it barely counts. He also stole human remains but this is tumblr, we're used to that. He's a skilled swordsman with a vast sword collection which is just the sexiest thing imaginable. YES he's rude to everyone but you don't UNDERSTAND, he's a genius surrounded by idiots, he gets frustrated. Also he's Parisian, they're just like that I think, he can't help it. Honestly his only real crime is smoking while on the underground platform at Liverpool Street station. That's unforgivable.

Barclay Beg-Chetwynde (BBC Ghosts)

Honestly one of the funniest characters in the show, I don't even care. Every episode he's in is a delight. Every single line delivery is so deliciously bastardly. And he makes a brilliant foil to my two favourite characters, Julian and Alison. He's great.

B.Z. (Santa Claus The Movie)

I love this movie. I love this movie a lot. I've watched it at least twice a year every year since I was a toddler. Often more. I could quote the whole film by heart. And my guy B.Z. is by far the most quotable character. Highlight of the whole film. Every single line of his lives rent free in my head. He has beef with Santa Claus for literally no good reason. He chained up a child for even less good reason. He invented Christmas 2. He exited the movie by eating too many magic flying lollypops and floating away into the stratosphere. Utterly unhinged from first scene to last. Literally no-one could ever compare.

Kerr Avon (Blakes 7)

Ah, Avon. I was obsessed with him as an edgy teen. I think in many ways he is the edgy teen appeal character of his genre. He's like the Shadow the Hedgehog of dystopian sci-fi. I mean this as a sincere complement. And he's once again by far the most quotable character in the show. I feel like that's a very important factor for a good bastard man. Quotability.

I won't say I could fix him, because I don't think anyone could. But I wish someone could.

Cat (Red Dwarf)

My sweet underappreciated boy. In many shows he would be the beloved bastard man. It's not his fault he shares a show with Arnold Rimmer, and you simply can't outdo the do-er.

But everything he does, he does it in ~ style ~

Randal Graves (Clerks)

This character means such a lot to me. He's the worst, of course. He sucks. You wouldn't want to know someone like that in real life. But that's part of what's so tragic about him. He's already resigned himself to the fact he's an unlikeable asshole loser, and has long since given up even trying to make new friends, and now he's a deeply lonely weirdo trapped in a toxic co-dependant relationship with the only real friend he has, who he's simultaneously obsessed with and sort of in love with (no homo) (maybe homo) and would die for, but also treats terribly. He's just such a sad odd man. I think about him often.

Ray Carling (Life on Mars/Ashes to Ashes)

Ray my best friend Ray. Yes okay so he's wildly homophobic and misogynistic, but like. Underneath that he's a very sweet and compassionate man, I promise. He's just trapped under the crushing weight of insecurity and self-loathing and societal expectations of masculinity. His backstory is heartbreaking. Absolutely devastating. I won't go into details because spoilers but Jesus Christ. He's the world's number one most single man, being the only one left not paired up out of the seven main characters across both shows, which hardly seems fair. He deserves a nice love interest I think. Give him a nice girlfriend, or lean into the "Ray is suffering from internalised homophobia" implications that Ashes to Ashes leant into occasionally and give him a nice boyfriend if you want, I don't care which, just give him someone.

Mentally I am holding his hand and buying him a pint right now.

Julian Cantley (literally one single episode of Heartbeat)

Choo choo, all aboard the brainrot express. Get in loser we're forming deep emotional attachments to characters with like 20 minutes total screentime. Anyway I'm obsessed with him right now. It's disrupting my drive to create content for characters with actual fanbases because I just keep thinking about Brooding Spy Man Whomst Only I Care About instead. He's just so quiet and angry and brooding. I have so many headcanons for him. I've even headcanoned what his entire flat back in London looks like. Send help.

Ryan Reeves (The Dumping Ground)

Ah he's just a baby. Just a little guy. Who could stay mad at him. Yes the way he'd learn his lesson only to go back to being evil again 2 episodes later got frustrating, but like. He loves his sister and he rescued Harry and Finn. He's not all bad. Apart from when he's being a teenage supervillain lurking in the shadows for no reason. But it's all because he's SAD, you don't UNDERSTAND,

Michael Doyle (Grange Hill)

Look. He stopped being racist after he turned like 13, okay? He just became a petty criminal and politically corrupt instead. And his dad sucks, his dad says worse stuff than Mickey ever did, he was clearly just parroting his dad when he was wee. And there's something so sad and lonely about him. The way he always tries to join in with the group only get pushed out because everyone finds him unbelievably awful. The way he so wants to be Alan's friend. The way he only has the two friends he's got because he pays them to be his friend. Poor little guy. I have to believe he got it together eventually. I have to believe him and Justin were pals by the time they went to sixth form together. I have to.

Ralph Passmore (Tucker's Luck)

It's Mr Passmore! He means such a lot to me. I'm so happy they started portraying him sympathetically in series 2 because honestly? His rage is so justified. He's unemployed and he's already been cast aside as unemployable. His family have already given him up as a lost cause. His only friend and ally in his family is his younger sister, who ends up leaving home to get away from how verbally abusive their parents are. He drinks to cope and joins a gang for the companionship. He finally gets a job after years of unemployment but finds out it's exploiting vulnerable fellow working class people in his community so he angrily and aggressively quits, after befriending and supporting an old lady. What a king.

#if you actually read all of this I am kissing you on the lips mwaah #obey me swd #father brown #yonderland #bbc casualty #bbc ghosts #santa claus the movie #blake's 7 #red dwarf #clerks #view askewniverse #life on mars #ashes to ashes #heartbeat #the dumping ground #grange hill #tucker's luck

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

Sin in Snow White Taffeta and Latex

It's a Nice Day for a White Wedding (Part One)

Part of the Yes Daddy Verse

Prequel

Prequel Series: 1 x 2 x 3 x 4 x 5 x 6

Yes Daddy: 1 x 2 x 3 x 4 x 5 x 6 x 7 x 8

Adventures in Toyland: Introduction

1 x 2 x 3 x 4 x 5 x 6 x 7

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: Nothing really, sorry guys this chapter is all fluff! Swearing, feminization, drug use, a little grinding and kisses but this is just a happy fluff chapter 🖤 Rating: PG-13

Neither of them had ever been the type to plan things out. No, they were wild at heart and deficient of attention and a little mental at times. Perhaps that was why even though they'd been engaged for over a year and desperate to claim each other in every way possible they still weren't married on paper. They'd made plenty of jokes, the idea of running away to Vegas came up constantly or just going to the court house, but Dom thought Colson wanted something showier and Kells was positive his Dominic wanted to dress up. They were both so terrified of disappointing the other that they never even asked and it just got swept under the rug over and over again. That is until some of their friends took it upon themselves to get the boys absolutely shit faced.

It was interesting because though their friends were around each other frequently they hadn't exactly intermingled, which is why it took so long for any of them to realize the two gave about the same amount of fucks as to how they got hitched, they just wanted to be together. Mod had asked Tom to help him with a video shoot and while editing they'd begun to talk. It didn't take long before they were complaining about their respective boy problems, how their best friend was constantly whining about still just being engaged. For Dom it was sadness and worry over actresses trying to steal his man for arm candy and for Col it was self hatred for not doing right by his bitch but ultimately they found they faced the exact same problem. They needed better friends.

No, they realized neither cared how it happened, they just wanted the end result and it got the two from bitching to calculating to actually setting something up. Of course it would have to start with lots and lots of alcohol.

That's how Dom and Col found themselves three sheets to the wind and window shopping little white chapels under the painfully bright lights of the Strip. They were dressed to the nines though they barely remembered how they got that way and stumbling over themselves. Mod was attempting to be the designated decider and Tom was leading them, his back to the world as he snapped booze soaked memories for when they couldn't recall a thing later. They were all buzzing with excitement and worried at the pain they might cause other people but the wedded pair-to-be had been kidnapped and couldn't change a thing- yet another calculation. They both knew they'd thank their friends for it later. No matter what they said it was a personal experience and they didn't need anyone else watching.

"Daddy look!" The boy slurred, pointing one of his white latex covered fingers at the perfect chapel. It was hot pink and precious with a rock n roll vibe and there was an Elvis impersonator smoking a joint on the steps. It felt like a sign to his liquor addled mind and he jumped happily in his platform ivory creepers.

Col laughed and pulled his lover close, giving him yet another once over. The all white still made him smirk but it was the sluttiest wedding dress he'd ever seen. Honestly it's what he pictured strippers wearing at stag parties. Bone pale fishnet clung to his skin in a long sleeve top, barely covered by a ripped to shreds and safety pinned tee. The tutu was cute though, he had to admit and more than anything he just wanted to bend the punk over and see what panties he picked.

He was dressed much more relaxed but no less on point, a red suit to match his baby's hair and a white button up underneath, with his patent alabaster docs to finish it up. Dom had actually drooled when their friends took the blindfolds off, they'd meant to leave them on until they were in a church but they were both getting too frisky in the car and it was almost impossible to lead them around even with their vision working. "It's perfect doll." He sighed back, trying to pull his princess in for a kiss but his BFF stepped in and yanked the punk away.

"Shit guys, we're literally feet away. You can wait. Come on babe you can walk with me." The rocker tugged at Dom's shiny white palm and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He got them a few feet in front of the grumbling rapper and whispered- "You look beautiful. Thank you for taking care of him." The kid sniffled, holding back his emotions because he refused to mess up his makeup and while he didn't completely agree with the statement, he could admit they took care of each other. That's what it was all about though wasn't it?

The King impersonator choked on a toke when they stopped in front of him, his brows going high behind his glasses. "Holy sh- Mama!" The man caught himself halfway through cursing and tried to pull his facade back. Kells reached to shake his hand and steal his weed. "What can I do for y'all?"

Colson arched a brow as he took a deep drag, teasingly looking between the chapel and his bride. "Here to buy a car obviously. What do you think?" It wasn't his best sarcastic line, he was a little too drunk but the guy laughed nervously anyway which was good enough for him.

"Play nice luv, it's our wedding night." Dom pouted trying to curl himself around his daddy but Derek pulled him back, grumbling about needing child backpack leashes on them both.

"Oh, awesome!" The Elvis grinned, seemingly giving up on the act. "Come on, I'll give you guys the full package on the house!" He pulled his leather jacket up to reveal a sleeve of music themed tattoos. A few that made them realize he was probably acting so flustered because he was a fan and some that implied he was definitely batting for their team. "Seriously, I'll take care of you. You guys fucking rock! Can I just say..." He started nervously. "I totally called this from your first video!" Kells chuckled and his bride-to-be agreed.

"You're not giving my bitch the full package kid." Colson joked, giving the actor a wink when he blushed and Dom tried to swat him.

"Don't fuck 'is up. You give 'im a 'eart attack who's gonna marry us?"

"Then let's fucking go. Wanna fuck you already." Col whined back, the poor officiate was blushing so hot he was probably sweating. The neon above made him look cherry red.

"Charming. That's exactly wha' a bride wants to 'ear." Dominic rolled his eyes but honestly he was flattered, he always was. He loved how much his daddy needed him. After all, it was just as bad for him. Already he could feel his lace thong a mess of precum and he felt pussy wet as his very soon husband liked to say.

The impersonator led them inside and Mod kept them separate as best he could until they reached the main room and he dragged the rapper away. "Literally two seconds and you'll be back together. Fuck you guys, you're obsessed." He chuckled as the doors shut behind them and Dom was left with his best friend and the camera he hadn't put down.

"You look beautiful." The man smiled, lowering his hand and reaching to fix the singer's veil with the other. It was attached with a cute little tiara, marking him the princess Col called him all the time.

"Yeah?" He asked, his eyes misting and his heart racing in his chest. They didn't need to talk much, they knew each other better than that and Tom was one of the only people the punk could just be quiet with. "Fank you for 'is. Not sure we ever woulda figured it out." He huffed, fidgeting with his skirt.

"No shit." He thought he caught the man sigh but it was so quiet he let him grumble to himself and he laughed when his friend offered his arm. "Someone has to give you to the bastard. Might as well be me."

He could tell Tommy was more emotional than he was letting on, he always was. He was right though, it shouldn't be anyone else. "Course it would be you." Dom beamed. "You kept us together luv." It was true, he knew the photographer had been pulling their puppet strings almost since day one. Tom was the one who told him he had to do the collaboration, he told Colson to go to London when the singer wouldn't answer his phone, he texted the rapper to join them on tour when Dom was feeling too bad about everything, he helped them with their entire relationship really and without him they wouldn't even be in Vegas. "Ain't no one I'd rather 'ave wiv me."

They were so wrapped up in their moment they both startled when the music started up and the door opened. Right inside was a drag queen who looked like a pin-up model and she handed Dom a bouquet of black and red roses before disappearing again. Yeah, this was the perfect place for them. Jade eyes took in the room, four empty pews and a little stage at the front. It was small and kitschy, something akin to an old rock club mixed with a disco and he couldn't help but wonder if they'd let him shoot a video here someday but nothing else mattered when his gaze found his lover. Everything went quiet and he felt himself calmed. It felt like his whole life led to this.

Kells smiled when their eyes met, his fiancé was perfect and he just wanted to get this over with so he could get his boy back to bed where they belonged. Of course he wanted to be married but he didn't care about the showy part all that much, he just wanted to call his bitch his. Derek was next to him, playing an electric guitar he found somewhere and the Elvis was on his other side, still shaking like a leaf.

Dom knew he was supposed to step carefully and slow but he'd never been either of those things and he wasn't about to start. His arm linked with Tom's and his fist gripped the flowers tight and he stomped down the aisle the same way he entered Col's house all that time before. Tom huffed but was smiling so wide, for once his camera laid forgotten around his neck. He could take more pictures after, this he wanted to be present for, not live through a lense. The closer they got the better Dom felt and when he was finally at his partner's side he could only think of one thing to say. "'Ere's me Machine Gun."

Kells felt his eyes burn with unshed tears, fuck his baby knew exactly what would get him. The whole trip he'd been thinking over their relationship and remembering the story of how they'd met. It felt like it all started with that, 'Where's the Machine Gun?' and their night would end with Dom being his Mrs. But first Tom had to actually give the kid away. He held his hand out as the officiant stuttered through the script but he barely heard a word. Everything felt like a blur around him but that boy he loved so much.

"I do." Tom sniffled when asked who gave Dom away and with one last squeeze to his hand and a kiss to his cheek that Colson growled about he let his friend go and handed him over. "Always trusted you with him."

That made the rapper grin and he nodded his thanks but he couldn't take his eyes off his queen. He looked like sin in snow white taffeta and latex and he felt his cock jerk in his too tight crimson pants. Those raven painted lips mouthed 'I love you' but when he moved in for a kiss he was stopped by a flash from Tom's camera.

They were both calmer than they thought possible and unable to look anywhere else but somehow as drunk and needy as they felt they recited everything they were told. When the fan paused and asked if they had their own vows Dom blushed but nodded fast, of course tradition wasn't enough. They hadn't been conventional since the day they were born and they wouldn't start with something so important. For the first time that night the punk felt truly nervous. How could he sum up everything his lover meant to him?

His breath shook and he handed the impersonator his bouquet, curling both his palms in his fiancé's. "I didn't fink I'd ever learn 'ow to love. Wiv 'ow I grew up I fhought… I fhought I weren't worthy. I craved belonging so bad I started a bloody band." He laughed wetly, he couldn't stop the tears anymore. He just hoped his eyeliner held up. "I fink I were in love wiv yas from the moment we first met. You… you give me wha' no one else can. I feel complete wiv yas. You make me feel safe and loved and accepted and… fuck I barely know wha' to say tha' I don't tell ya all the time. You keep me sane. You… you 'elp me love me'self and when I can't do it you do. You the love of me life Colson. You every'fin."

Kells cleared his throat, fighting the lump that threatened to choke him. He didn't want to cry like a bitch but he didn't know if he could help it. His hands shook with pent up emotions and Dom squeezed him tighter, his pillow soft smile and heart eyed stare gave him strength. "I didn't have anything to live for before you stomped into my life and took up all the fucking space. No one shines as bright as you baby, nothing makes me feel as much. All this doesn't matter to me but I'd do anything to make you smile at me like you are right now. When shit gets tough you're what keeps me going. You inspire me every fucking day, and when I need it you kick my ass just right. You ground me when nothing else does and I just… you know I didn't have anything growing up and I thought I couldn't love right… that something was wrong inside me. You showed me my heart bitch. Without you I'm nothing and fuck I just… I just want to start our lives together and have a family with you. You're it babe, you're everything."

Dom didn't know how he made it through all of it without bawling but he stayed mostly composed until their friends produced two simple platinum bands. This whole night had obviously been carefully planned out down to his undergarments even and while maybe they both didn't think they understood love until each other, they knew they had been deeply loved for years. He took the larger one with trembling fingers, glad for the grip of the latex or it would be lost and he slid it carefully on his lover's hand, hearing the two most important words his man would ever say to him. "I do." When the question was turned on him and Colson was trying to work the glove off his hand he couldn't help but giggle.

Col almost growled when his boy slipped the latex between his teeth but he bit down on the fabric and held tight. His hand quivered as he took the ring and slipped it on his baby's finger, the first tear breaking free when his boyfriend repeated those words and he felt it like a brand on his soul. "I do."

They beamed at each other as Elvis finally exclaimed- "You may now kiss the bride." They even laughed at the cornily added "Huba huba, thank ya very much!" but Col was already scrambling to get the veil up and spit the glove out of his mouth. Dom went up on tiptoes as Colson bent down and when their lips met the universe went quiet and warm around them. They swore the world held its breath. They couldn't keep it chaste of course and Dom felt his daddy's touch ghost down his spine before his palms were groping hard at his bare ass and he was pulled flush against him. His lips parted on a gasp and their tongues explored, they knew every inch of each other but somehow it still felt new. Different but so much the same.

They broke apart panting and the four people present clapped, the poor Elvis seemed even more flustered than when they first met but he stuttered out- "May I present for the first time- Mr. And Mrs. Machine Gun?" His voice went up at the end like a question and Kells nodded. Dom giggled and swat playfully at his man's shoulder.

"I'll allow it for tonight but I don't know if I'm taking ya name luv." The boy rolled his eyes and yanked him down closer again. "Guess wha'?"

"What darling?" He hummed back, his voice a drawl as if just being around the actor made him take the accent on. He trailed kisses over the punk's cheek and held him close. He didn't think he'd let him go again all night. If ever.

"You me 'usband." His voice was almost a squeak he was so happy and with the revelation Col's heart skipped a beat. His palms tightened and he lifted as Dom hopped until strong thick thighs were wrapped around his waist.

"Shit you're right. Wife." He purred back, his gaze searching the chapel for somewhere they could hide away for a quickie.

"Mmm, 'usband say it again." Dom's breath hitched, his dick twitching in his too tight white lace thong.

He was so tempted to make a Borat joke but he could feel the bulge pressed against his belly and he was desperate not to ruin the mood. "Wife. Fuck need to find a place to hide for a few so I can make you a momma too." He teased with a wink.

"Guys! Hotel! We got you a fucking hotel not five minutes from here." Mod groaned, hooking his finger in the neck of Colson's jacket. "Tell the nice Elvis thank you and keep it in your pants for just a few more minutes please?"

They giggled together but did as they were told, both shaking hands with the impersonator and drag queen and they promised to tag them if they posted any pictures. It didn't take long but it still felt like eternity until the desert air was on them again and Tom was leading them down the Strip. "We'd ask if you wanted to party but…" Derek trailed off but they were barely paying attention to anything but each other. Colson truly didn't know how he was even walking straight with Dom almost grinding against him.

"Oh we'll party just not with you, no offense. Maybe breakfast?" He shrugged, his voice going thready when his husband started nibbling his ear. "Shit- brunch!" He corrected, his breath coming faster. He could make it though, he knew he could. They'd get to the hotel and spend their first night of wedded bliss buried deep in each other. He knew his words were probably a lie, they may not come out for days and they all knew it. No, it was the first night of the rest of their lives and they planned to spend it exactly as they always hoped to be, part of each other.

Author's Note/Tags: @triplexdoublex @manicpixiedreamb0y @jaxbreaker @hollywoodxwhore @cole-way-iero28 if anyone else wants tagged let me know and if there's anything you want to see between these boys just ask! My anons are always open but I never judge 🖤 This is my first pure story chapter and I meant to keep going but I thought it deserved it's own part. I hope it was still enjoyed and don't worry, the wedding night is still to come!

#yungblud #dominic harrison #dom harrison #machine gun kelly #mgk #colson baker #dom and colson #dom x colson #dom and colson fic #com #com fics #my fics #yes daddy verse #5 times col came in his pants and the 1 time he made dom do it #adventures in toyland #fluff fic #swearing #drug use #drag queen #elvis impersonator #vegas stuff #boys in love #its a nice day for a white wedding

[blissfulip]

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i'm sorry i don't speak american <3