#boys formalwear

[gioberti-clothing]

Boys' Long Sleeve Solid Dress Shirt

Gioberti Boys' Long Sleeve Solid Dress Shirt. Classic dress shirt that pairs perfectly with any ensemble for formal or informal events.

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[monstergraffiti]

Greed's the worst miner of the G-Crew, but his appraisal skills are second-to-none. While he's the one who ensures the crew has plenty of money by handling the sales of gems both cut and raw, the most beautiful of their finds usually end up in his personal collection.

[dirtdotmp3]

new shirt and tie !! aka lazy revenge era gerard cosplay:3

[thrilling-oneway]

On the topic of skirts can they stop shying away from giving the boys dresses... I know it's unlikely but I really wish they would do it

from my drafts

[arcxnumvitae]

Amara’s outfit for the revel as his songbird’s plus one! Amara isn’t a fancy guy and wearing a plain old suit is pretty high fashion to him. However, he’d want to represent the real reason he’s there, Noita, in some small way. So, he has a sun and moon design ring, and he’ll have on a bracelet the same wisteria shade as one of his sweet partner’s eyes. 

[mxxnmxxn9875]

I have two friends who will not dress in anything but formalwear. If it’s even slightly undignified, they will make it look dignified enough for a monarch

[trentberetta]

i still love trent. i still carry his figurine everywhere. don callis family beretta is for me actually.

[genderfluid-faerie-bf]

[drgnflyteabox]

mdni - the 141 find a cozy place to stay during an op (that's definitely all that happens). implied fat!reader

(dubcon, poly, gangbang, anal, price is in charge of everyone<3)

So blizzards can happen in the blink of an eye on high, isolated mountains, right?

And the 141 have done missions in rural places, snowy places, mountainous places, right?

And there are tons of tiny little isolated towns, all over the world, built around these mountains for one reason or another - coal mining, logging, etc.

Now imagine the 141 on a mission, somewhere cold, somewhere isolated, a place that feels like the edge of the world. Desolate.

Now imagine the 141 seeing, in the near distance, a winking pale orange light. It's a good enough place as any to approach - it isn't safe to be caught in this blizzard, anyhow. Even with their gear, the safehouse is still an hour away and the snowfall seems historic...

Now imagine you're sitting in your family home, all alone, going a little crazy with cabin fever. Your woodstove is burning hot, but you're still cuddled up in knits and a thermal underneath. You're making stew for dinner with root vegetables from the basement cellar, it's bubbling and softening for you while you crochet, trying to keep your mind off the monumental shoveling task you'll have to deal with tomorrow

Until there's a knock on the door.

"Hello ma'am, I'm just wondering if me and my friends here could rest until it's safe to continue our hike?" (I love the way gaz says ma'am)

Hike? Nobody hikes up here - you've only ever seen a couple tourists in your life, thrill seeking ice climbers who came and went.

And they certainly weren't dressed in snow camo, hiding guns behind their backs.

But you were raised right, and the man at the door has kind eyes - he's handsome, too, but you'd never say it out loud. Gaz pushes the door further in when you tentatively open it, and in comes barreling three more massive men, their boots stomping and leaving a mess.

Soap smells the stew on the stove and beelines for it, lifting his helmet to inhale deeply.

Ghost sweeps the room like it might be hiding an enemy somewhere- even though it's one room total, the stove in the middle, separating the kitchen and your bed.

Price approaches you all apologetic, apologizing for "these ruffians", holding his camo helmet to his gut like it's formalwear. "Apologies, sweetheart, we weren't expecting the weather to turn on us."

You aren't quite sure how you end up sitting on prices lap, naked except for your socks, while he squeezes your stomach and grunts in your ear not to be shy when putting your weight on him. His other hand is cupped over your pussy, murming thank yous for feeding his men.

They're eating your stew, stripped out of gear, cocks tented in their white cargos.

"We're a gaggle of lucky boys, eh?" Soap says. "Nice, cozy, soft girl. Warm cabin. A man could get used to this."

You wind up pressed down on your mattress, hands held behind you by one man while another fucks you hard, spurred on by price behind them. At first, it's johnny, whining high in his throat while price guides his hips and gaz holds your arms by your head. "Need to thank her proper, boy." The obvious authority in prices voice makes your pussy clench around him, and he shakes over you, trying hard not to come too early.

Gaz reaches down from where he's holding your arms, pinching your clit until you buck against Johnny and squirt around him.

Then it's gaz, who lifts your legs and squeezes your big thighs, locking eyes with ghost. He's steady, only breaking composure when Simon praises him. "Thats a lad. Good, just like that, Kyle." He's the first to ever make you come from penetration alone, hips moving in a way that makes your abdomen tighten and tighten and tighten until you reach the longest orgasm of your life, nearly crying with how intense it feels.

Price ends up flipping you over - nudging you up on your hands and knees, the bed creaking with the combined weight of he and his lieutenant taking their places in front and behind you.

Simon slips his cock in your mouth, staring down at you through the balaclava. You can barely make out a thick scar, one that looks like it might go through his whole face. You lose focus when price pushes his fingers in your ass, though, and you squeal.

There's no where to run except further down simons cock, though, where you gag, spit running all down your chest onto the bed.

"Shh, sh," Price rubs your flank like you're a spooked animal. He squeezes the ample flesh of your asscheek appreciatively. "Jus wanna give your poor pussy a break, aye? I reckon she's tired,"

He pushes into you impatiently and it burns a little, but he soothes it with a palm over your soft, sore cunt. Rubs a thumb over your clit slowly, jostling you back and forth over simons cock.

You come once more before the night is over, tears finally running down your cheeks, mixing with your saliva, with simons come. It's a painful orgasm, wrenched from you - but that makes it all the sweeter.

They wipe you down and spoon feed you more stew, after, to recover your energy :') price has the boys tidy their boot tracks and put away leftovers while he and Simon hold you from both sides. They can barely fit with you on your bed, but tucked in like this - on top of your furs, naked as the day you were born, praised for your soft body and "What a good girl you are, babydoll."

Sigh

I'm sure this idea has probably been written but I was listening to this and couldn't stop imagining it lmfao

[saturn-sugar-saturn-spices]

my favorite romance prompts/scenarios 🫶

like. ohhh my gosh when i read these i just go FERAAAAAAAAAAL 👹 and to think i’ve never even been in a relationship?? (i’m aroace loll) anyway, here you go!

cw: suggestive, sexual tension

A waking up and B’s face is so close to them, and their hand is on their forehead, and they’re just smiling in a slightly teasing way that makes A wonder if they know what they’re doing and oh gosh they feel hot all over nooow—

hand kisses with a smirk and direct eye contact and wet lips

one person grabbing the other’s chin

they don’t know the other person wears glasses and when they see them wearing them they’re just. SHOCKED. because they’re SOO PRETTY.

one person getting a new hairstyle or haircut and the other person is just thinking. woah

^^ similarly, a person who usually has it tied lets their hair down for the first time in front of another person (or vice versa) and they feel embarrassingly flustered (bonus points if they’re alone so it feels weirdly intimate)

(last appearance related one i swear) FORMAL WEAAAR, suits (pulling someone by their tie oh gosh), gowns, dresses, formalwear but with unbuttoned buttons and messy hair…

one person finds the other person begins influencing their interests and work, like they begin absentmindedly painting them, writing about characters similar to them, singing a song while suddenly thinking of them, etc. (i love it when this happens platonically, too 🥹)

sensitive spots on a person’s neck that the other discovers and won’t stop kissing and nipping at and biting—

one person making soft noises during a kiss and then blushing like crazy, and the other one notices and kisses them so much more intensely that by the end they’re pretty much the same color as a tomato

an oldie but certainly a goodie: “shut up” “make me”

^^ similarly: “ooooh you wanna kiss me so bad” , and the other person either starts angrily blushing or actually kisses them (or they angrily blush and then kiss them…)

cliché but still effective, one person trips and the other stops them from falling by holding onto their waist

“[name] kissed like they needed it to survive”

when they’re laughing together but as their laughter slowly dies down, they make direct eye contact, glance at the other’s lips, it feels like time slows down for just a minute…and then they meet in the middle

arguing and one person just shuts up the other by kissing them ; it’s just a soft, chaste one, but then the person who got kissed rushes back in

one person who’s awfully cocky keeps trying to get the other flustered by constantly firing pickup lines and saying flirty things to them, but one day they actually respond and suddenly they’re not so cocky anymore because fuck they’re hot

“pretty boy” / “pretty girl” BUT with a smirk and narrowed eyes

lingering touches like a hug or a comforting arm pat — it lasts for only a few moments but when it stops the other person immediately feels the loss of warmth and just wants to lean back in

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: live from the meadowlands! i’m freezing my tits off in new jersey and getting ready to head into the stadium to scream my head off for the boys! so i figured it would be a perfect time to provide some best man mat smut - this is so unedited it’s not even funny, but i hope you guys enjoy and i’ll catch up with you all on monday once i’ve thawed out! 🧡💙🤍

word count: 3.3k

tw: dirty dancing, dirty talk, unprotected sex, fingering (f receiving), nipple play, creampie, let me know if there’s anything i missed

summary: it’s ethan and lenasia’s wedding day and mat’s the best man. it’s not your fault that he looks so damn good in a suit

“And if there’s anything you take away from this speech tonight, it’s yes, I can actually read! Let’s raise a toast to the bride and groom,” Mat smiles, laughs a little, and lifts his drink in the air to toast Ethan and Lenasia. You swallow a giggle and then a sip of champagne, setting the flute down on the table so you can call and cheer wildly as Ethan cups Lenasia’s face and kisses her deeply.

By the time the clapping tapers off, Mat is back in his seat next to you, his hand finding yours and lacing your fingers together. He lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it, causing a blush to heat your cheeks. “How was it?” He asks, sounding slightly nervous, lips tilted in a self-conscious smile.

“Perfect,” you grin, leaning slightly into his personal space. “Who knew you were so good with words?” Your silk-covered knee knocks against his tuxedoed one.

Mat scoffs and takes a drink of water, his hand dwarfing the glass. “You know I’m very good with words, babe,” he winks at you. He sits back in his seat, watching as Lenasia’s maid of honor steps up to the front of the room to give her speech. The pad of his thumb rubs against the underside of your ring finger, catching on the pavé band of your engagement ring. You let your knee knock against Mat’s again and the corner of his mouth curves up in a smile, his attention focused on the speech.

A few short minutes later, you’re lifting your glasses in another toast to Ethan and Lenasia. Mat’s hand never leaves yours and he squeezes your fingers gently as he sips at his champagne. You can’t help but stare at him, taking in his mussed hair and unbuttoned shirt. The hint of skin and collarbone has you feeling overly warm. He’s always looked sinfully good in formalwear.

“Like what you see, babe?” He laughs, leaning into you when you’re sitting down again, starting to poke at the salads in front of you. His lips brush against your cheek and you shiver.

“Always,” you murmur back, bumping his shoulder with yours. “Just thinking about how good you look. How I didn’t get to see you at all today.”

Mat shifts in his seat and you grin wickedly, glancing down to see the effect your words are having on him. Since he’s the best man, he’d been up and out of the hotel room early to get ready, so all you’d gotten this morning was a rushed make-out session and an ass squeeze, leaving you unsatisfied.

“Later,” Mat whispers in your ear, a promise and a threat.

“I’m holding you to that,” you grin, turning your head slightly to capture his lips with yours. You bite down gently on his lower lip and Mat groans quietly into your mouth.

He presses a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth when you pull back and mutters, “gonna hold you to something, for sure.”

You snort a laugh and shake your head at him a little, pushing at his thigh where it’s pressed against yours. “You’re so cheesy,” you tease, digging into your salad.

“It’s weddings,” he replies around a mouthful of food. “They bring out my inner Hallmark movie hero.”

The subtle tease at your preferred guilty pleasure entertainment makes you roll your eyes. He joins in on watching the Christmas movies more than he’d ever admit. You smirk at him, “keep this energy up for Christmastime.”

After that, you both fall into conversation with your friends at the table, eating dinner as it’s served and drinking too much. Mat continuously delivers you bay breezes, the vodka flooding your veins and making you pleasantly tipsy by the time you’re on the dance floor.

Mat’s hands are all over your body, holding you close as you sway and scream along to the music, hips bumping together. Your hair is slowly starting to fall out of the updo you’d spent most of the morning working on, little pieces frizzing around your face and sticking to your forehead. Mat’s hands are hot on your skin through the silk of your dress, leaving a phantom impression whenever he moves them.

The music changes, slows down, and Mat pulls you close, hands landing on the curve of your ass. You grin at him, buzzing from the alcohol and skin tingling from his touch. His eyes are a little unfocused from his own drinking but he lands a kiss on your lips with precision accuracy. He tastes like whiskey and beer and Mat. You smile into the kiss, giggling when he grows sloppy, kissing the corners of your mouth. “You look gorgeous,” he says, mouth close to yours. “Like a…a…a gorgeous woman.”

You laugh out loud, clearly Mat’s drunker than you thought he was, and press yourself closer to him as you sway. “I thought you had a way with words?” You tease him, stroking your fingers through his hair and over the nape of his neck. He shudders in your arms at your touch, sensitive against your gentle ministrations.

“I said words, didn’t I?” He laughs, turning his head to kiss the inside of your arm. “You are gorgeous, what else m’I s’posed to say?”

“Hmm,” you hum, head pleasantly fuzzy from the drinks, “I dunno, anything else you think is appropriate.”

Mat’s silent, for once in his life, and Elvis croons about falling in love.

“How about,” he grins, holding you close and lowering his voice so you’re the only one who can hear him, “I wanna fuck you until you forget your own name.”

His breath ghosts against your cheek and your knees wobble, the surge of lust in your blood overwhelming. Your fingers tighten around Mat’s hair, tugging sharply, and you lean even closer to him, soaking up the warmth of his body. “I like that plan,” you giggle, the sound tapering off into a little gasp when the music changes and Mat grinds his hips into yours. The bulge of his cock presses against you, a promise for later.

The reception lasts into the wee hours of the morning, music bumping and drinks flowing. You’ve taken a spin around the dance floor with Ethan, scream-sung along to the Spice Girls with Lenasia and some of the bridesmaids, and given baby Gracie some cuddles before she was ushered off to bed by Lenasia’s mom.

Now it’s just the straggler, party-animals left and you’re once again in Mat’s arms, his chest pressed against your back. His hand is warm against your stomach, fingers splayed out to cover as much of you as he can. You lean your head back against his shoulder, swaying along to the music completely off-tempo. Mat’s lips are against your skin, kissing your temple, your hair, every inch of you he can reach.

“Fuck,” he mutters, “you’re so pretty.” His words are a little slurred, running into each other. “Someone should marry you.”

A drunken laugh startles out of your mouth and you lift your left hand, engagement ring glinting in the low lighting, back to curl in his hair, nails scratching at his scalp. “Someone is,” you tease, kissing the point of his chin.

“Who?” He turns his head and plants a sloppy, wet kiss on your cheek. “Cause I’ll fight him. I wanna marry you.”

“You dork,” you laugh, “you’re marrying me.”

Mat’s hand stops its movement over your stomach and chest, fingers frozen where they’re curled around your breast. “Oh fuck yes,” he crows. “How’d I forget that?”

“I don’t know, exactly how drunk are you, my love?” Your hand tangles further into Mat’s hair, hips never stopping their lazy grind against Mat’s groin. Your other hand cover’s Mat’s tracing over his knuckles and the veins underneath his skin. You’re not even remotely close to sober yourself, alcohol blurring the edges of all your thoughts, making your movements slow and loose.

“Not drunk enough that I won’t be able to fuck you in the hotel room,” he promises, biting down on your earlobe and making you shiver.

“Good,” you grind your ass back against his cock, grinning impishly when you feel him twitch against you, “I’ve been looking forward to it all night.”

His hand squeezes your breast tightly and you yelp a little, nipples pebbling under the silky fabric of your dress. Mat’s mouth marks a hot trail over your jaw and down your neck, kissing at the join of your neck and shoulder, burying his nose against your skin. “You smell good,” he mumbles, holding you close. ”Love you so much.”

“Love you,” you reply, squealing when Mat grabs your hand and twirls you out to the side and then back in, your back slamming against his chest when you lose your balance. He wraps his arms around your stomach, hands clasped over your belly button, chin resting on your shoulder, and sways along with the music.

Mat’s lips are hot on your skin, magnetized apparently since he can’t stop kissing your exposed neck and collarbone. You melt against him, leaning heavily into his embrace, butterflies kicking around in your stomach. Every shift of his hips presses his erection against your ass, hard heat searing through the thin silk of your dress. Arousal grows slick between your legs, your panties damp and your thighs gliding against each other.

He tugs gently at the fabric under his hands, bunching it a little so the hem of your dress starts to inch higher. His heart beats against your back, his bare chest hot against your skin. The fabric of Mat’s unbuttoned shirt tickles your sweaty skin and you wonder, deep in the back corner of your mind, where his tie went and if he’ll ever get it back. Then his palm is sliding up your thigh and you have no more thoughts, just the feeling of Mat’s skin on yours.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Mat whispers in your ear, his breath warm on your cheek. “Wanna be inside you.”

You nod and Mat drags you off, hand tight around yours, your heels clipping along the floor as you hurry to keep up with him.

——

“You taste like pineapples,” Mat comments, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth and laving over the pebbled bud with the flat of his tongue.

Your back arches, Mat’s hands at your lower back bracing you. “Oh my - god,” you gasp, “I sp-spilled a drink earlier.”

Mat licks up over the swell of your breast, sucking a mark at the top. He nuzzles his nose against the skin of your sternum and your breath hitches in your chest. Your hips roll over the bulge in his pants, soaking the fabric of his slacks.

Your panties have been tossed to the side and the skirt of your dress is bunched up around your waist, making it easier for you to straddle Mat’s lap. He’d made quick work of pulling the straps of your dress down over your arms, baring your breasts to him and wasting no time marking them up with his mouth.

“Love these tits,” he groans, licking a hot stripe through the valley between your breasts and up to the hollow of your throat. “Bouncing so perfectly while you ride me.”

You whine and dig your nails into his shoulders, “M’not riding you,” you complain, rolling your hips over his clothed lap. “Take your pants off and fuck me.”

His shirt is on the floor, hair mussed from your hands, but his slacks are still on and you’re getting frustrated, whiny and desperate for the burn of his cock in your cunt. Mat’s hands roam your back, one cupping the nape of your neck and the other sliding under the curve of your ass. His fingers tease at your entrance and you clench, a fresh rush of arousal staining his slacks.

“Mat,” you whine his name, pressing closer to his fingers and burying your face in the crook of his neck, “please, please, wanna fuck you. Wanna have you fill me up.”

“Needy,” Mat teases, kissing you solidly as he lifts you off his lap and deposits you on the mattress. “Touch yourself while you wait,” he demands, hand on his belt buckle. You blink up at him and he cocks his head, raising an eyebrow. “Go ahead, babe, give that pretty pussy the attention she deserves.”

With Mat’s gaze focused on your bare cunt, you bring your hand to the swollen, sensitive flesh. Your fingers tremble a little as you circle them around your clit, head falling back against the mattress and a breath stuttering out of your lungs. “Oh god,” you moan, applying more pressure and picking up your speed.

Distracted, you don’t realize Mat’s undoing his belt and pants, shucking them down his muscular legs and kicking them to the side. “There you go, baby,” he rasps, sitting back down on the mattress, watching arousal drip out of your cunt. “Gonna slide right in, you’re so fucking soaked.”

He fists his cock lazily, running the flat of his palm over the reddened tip. Your fingers stutter as you watch him, ready for him to fill you up. “Can I - Mat,” you exhale harshly, rubbing your fingers hard over your clit. He hasn’t told you to stop, so you won’t, but you’re losing patience. “Please,” your voice cracks a little and Mat takes pity on you, reaching his free hand for your thigh.

“Aw, come here, baby,” Mat murmurs, hauling you over his lap again, hand falling away from his cock. Your hands brace on his shoulders and you settle your knees on either side of Mat’s hips. “Gonna sit you right where you belong, stretched out on my cock, okay?”

You nod desperately, chanting his name and then gasping when Mat lines the head of his cock right at your entrance, dragging you down by the hips until your ass is flush against his thighs and his cock is fully sheathed in your cunt.

“Ohhhh god,” you moan, head falling back and hips moving of their own accord, bouncing on Mat’s cock. The drag of his cock against your walls is delicious, the bare heat of him blistering from the inside. “Feels so good, god, fuck, Mat.”

His fingers are tight on your hips and Mat’s eyes are locked on your bouncing tits. “Baby, god, so tight. Been wanting to fuck you all night, fill this pussy with my cum, lick it out of you, make you scream my name.” Filth drops from his lips until he can’t help himself and he leans in to tug one of your nipples with his teeth, grinning around you when you shriek.

His pace never stops, his hips bucking upwards into yours, his cock head hitting your g-spot and making you see stars. Your nails dig into Mat’s shoulders and your thighs burn with the bouncing, but your stomach is tightening with pleasure and you beg Mat not to stop, chanting his name.

“Go ahead,” he mumbles against your chest, slicking your tits with his spit, “come on my cock, baby. Soak my dick.” His hand snakes forward and he pinches at your clit, drawing a scream from your lips. Sweat drips down both of your bodies, mixing with your arousal on Mat’s thighs, the glide of his cock in your cunt so smooth.

With his cock pounding into you, his fingers on your clit, and his mouth on your nipples, Mat drags you over the cliff and your orgasm hits like a freight train. You come with a scream, gushing around his cock and soaking his lap. Mat’s not too far behind you, bucking his hips up into yours while you shake through the aftershocks of your orgasm. His cock thickens inside of you and you babble in his ear, talking to him and coaxing him into coming inside of you.

“Fuck, fuck, baby,” he grunts, biting hard on your shoulder when he comes, filling you with hot, thick ropes of cum. Tears well in your eyes at the sensation, toes curling. He flops backwards onto the mattress, taking you with him with a little yelp.

You’re crushed against Mat’s chest, the bunched up fabric of your dress sliding against your slick skin, his cock softening inside of you. You bury your face against Mat’s neck and giggle lightly, wiggling happily when Mat’s hands caress your asscheeks. He groans into your hair, “Squeaks, I think wedding sex is our thing.”

Your laughter is louder now, vibrating through your body. It’s not like there’s always that many opportunities - besides tonight, you’d been to three of your friends’ weddings this summer and honestly, yeah, you’d had some pretty mindblowing sex after all of those weddings too.

Your fingers card through Mat’s sweaty hair, pushing it off his face and tracing his browbone gently. “Hmm, just imagine how good it’s going to be after our own wedding,” you tease, biting at your lower lip.

Mat lifts his head to capture your lips with his, teasing at your lower lip with his tongue until you release it from your teeth. His fingers trail all over your lower body, dipping between your legs and dragging the mix of your fluids over your skin. “Wedding night sex?” He says when he pulls back, eyes twinkling with mischief, “that’s the night I’m supposed to pretend we’re both virgins who’ve never seen each others’ ankles, right?”

You laugh and shift, the movement dragging your messy cunt over his cock. Mat winces at the graze, soft against your thigh. “Hmm, I don’t think either of us can pretend to be virgins,” you kiss his cheek and reach down between your bodies to stroke your fingers over his lower stomach and then lower, over the hair at the base of his cock and cup his balls, enjoying the groan Mat can’t hold back when you squeeze gently. “Not with our raw animal magnetism.”

Mat snorts a laugh, “raw animal magnetism? Why am I marrying you again, you weirdo?”

“My world class roast chicken and gold medal blow jobs, obviously,” you flip your hair off your shoulder, immediately wincing when your fingers catch in a knot. “Oh fuck that. My hair is a rat’s nest.”

You roll off of Mat’s chest, legs still tangled with his. He rolls to his side and drapes a hand over your hip. You study his face, swollen lips and hazy expression in his eyes. Stubble is sprouting on his jaw and you reach up to scrape your fingers against it, making him smile and press his face into your touch like a cat. “You do make a really good roast chicken,” Mat mumbles, eyelids shutting. His blinks grow lazy and it takes a few seconds longer than usual for his eyelids to open again. You hum happily, still stroking his face.

Mat’s completely asleep a few minutes later, mouth wide open, drunken snores echoing throughout the room. You roll your eyes affectionately - how is this the man you’re going to marry?

Carefully, you wiggle off the bed so you can take off your dress and shower, the hot water soothing your muscles and washing away the sticky feeling between your legs. Your mind wanders as you shower, thinking about how amazing the wedding was and how much planning you’ll be doing in the upcoming year for your own wedding.

Mat’s still asleep when you get back into the room, but now he’s wrapped himself up in the sheets, sprawled out on his stomach. “Blanket thief,” you mutter, crawling up next to him and wiggling under the duvet. A bobby pin digs into your scalp and you run a hand through your hair, trying to dislodge it but too lazy to actually take your hair down. It shifts a bit, not actively lobotomizing you, so you close your eyes and press your face into the pillow, yawning wide enough to crack your jaw.

As sleep takes over, you feel Mat’s hand move around the mattress, finding yours and lacing his fingers with yours.

You fall asleep with a smile on your face.

[gioberti-clothing]

6-Piece Suit Set

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Shop online for the best deal.

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[potatoplace]

Kinktober '24 Masterlist

Welcome! The majority of these fics will have smut in them, and those that don't will have sexual themes. This event is, of course, 18+ only, please respect that. That said, I am so excited for this month and all of these fics! If you'd like you can ask to be tagged in certain fics, or the whole event, just comment on this post so I can get you on the list before posting. Happy Kinktober! ❤️‍🔥🎃👻

1 - The Lighthouse - Siren!Feyre x Reader - dub con, oviposition ~4.4k 🩵🤍

2 - We Can Do This - Feysand x Reader - one night stand, pregnancy ~5.1k 🩵🤍💜

3 - Three's Company - Cassian x Reader x Azriel - threesome, spitroasting ~2.2k ❤️🤍💙

4 - Bloom - Elain x Reader - sex pollen, outdoor sex ~1.9k 🩷🤍

5 - Good Kitten - Owner!Nesta x Kitten!Reader - collar + leash, pet play ~2.5k 🩶🤍

6 - Guilty As Sin? - Feysand - mind sex, cheating ~1.7k 🩵💜

7 - Moon Cycle - Werewolf!Cassian x Reader - monsterfucking, knotting ~1k ❤️🤍

8 - Truthteller - Azriel x Reader - knifeplay ~1.8k 💙🤍

9 - Gorgeous - Azriel x Reader, Reader x OC - cheating, unprotected sex ~2k 💙🤍

10 - Fresh Canvas - Feyre x Reader - body writing ~1.8k 🩵🤍

11 - Pretty In Pink - Mor x Reader - public play, mirrors, lingerie ~2.2k ❣️🤍

12 - Your Hands, My Hands - Feyre x Camgirl!Reader - camming, mutual masturbation ~2.2k 🩵🤍

13 - Honey - Omega!Elain x Alpha!Reader - omegaverse, knotting, toys ~1.5k 🩷🤍

14 - Sweetness - Feysand x Reader - aftercare, mommy/daddy kink ~1.7k 🩵🤍💜

15 - Our Hands - Feysand x Camgirl!Reader (Part 2 to day 12) 🩵🤍💜

16 - Bloom Together - Elucien X Reader - voyeurism, threesome (part 2 to day 4) 🩷🤍🧡

17 - Midnight Love - Cassian x Reader - somnophilia ❤️🤍

18 - Control Part 3 - Daddy!Azriel x Little!Reader | part 1 | part 2 💙🤍

19 - Candlelit Nights - Rhys x Reader - wax play 💜🤍

20 - Shine - Feysand - public 🩵💜

21 - Night Out - Mor x Reader - restraints, public ❣️🤍

22 - Dominance - Azriel x Reader, Reader x OC - cucking 💙🤍

23 - Territory - Feyre x Reader - marks 🩵🤍

24 - Tonight - Elriel x Reader - fwb 🩷🤍💙

25 - The Future of the Night Court - Bat Boys x Illyrian!Reader - breeding 💜🤍❤️💙

26 - Our Baby - Sugar!Feysand x SugarBaby!Reader (Part 3 to day 12, 15) 🩵🤍💜

27 - Alleyways - Vampire!Azriel x Reader 💙🤍

28 - Formalwear - Feyre x Reader - collars 🩵🤍

29 - Trick or Treat - Demon!Rhys x Reader 💜🤍

30 - Mastermind Part 3 - Dark!Feysand x Reader - drunk sex, dub con | part 1 | part 2 🩵🤍💜

31 - Drink Up - Vampire!Feysand x Reader 🩵🤍💜

[narrators-journal]

I always feel like somebody's watching me

This is a bit of a mess, but I hope it’s still a fun lil read. I don’t have much else to say, tbh. Just, enjoy some yandere-energy stano/stan content lol.

CW: Implied stalking and implied yandere behavior, that’s about it so far unless I missed something.

Energy drinks for the week, vitamins, tv dinners. I should be good to go for a while, at least. You mused as you looked over the stacks of Banquet brand microwavable meals and packs of energy drinks that you’d horde for your work week. Though, was it a healthy diet? Not really, and you were aware of that.

However, when someone spent nearly twelve hours a day six days a week hunched over a desk or with your eyes glued to a whiteboard, the last thing they would want to do when finally at home was cook and fuss over nutrition. Which was exactly what you felt about the idea, and that was why you stood in the frozen meal section of the grocery store that Friday. Now all I should need is some sandwich stuff, then I can go home and nap. You thought to yourself with a triumphant smile on your face.

Though, you stopped and turned around when you heard a familiar gentle drawl mixed in with the grocery store’s christmas music. “Hey! Aren’t you Xee’s old classmate?” Stanley Snyder was the source, of course. It was hard for you to not instantly recognize the tall man.

Back in your college days, you’d roomed with Xeno Wingfield to save on tuition costs and, as a result, met the silver-haired pretty boy he’d been friends with since childhood. And, while it had only been a handful of times when he got a day or two off from bootcamp, it was fairly rare for you to come across a 5’9 man with snow-colored hair, black-painted lips, and immaculate eyeliner in the frozen food aisle. “Xeno wingfield? Pompous ass who keeps dismembered frog parts in the fridge? If so, then yeah, and I take it you’re Stanley, right?” You asked with a small smile as the man approached. Which, let you drink in the changes he’d gone through in the years between meetings, like how his muscles now stretched the sleeves of his plain t-shirt, the silver dog tags that he now sported, and the twinkle of something new in his icy eyes. “Yeah, that’s him, and yep, that’s me. How’ve you been, darlin’?” He asked casually, only for your old roommate to appear from one of the aisles behind him.

Unlike Stanley Snyder, Xeno Houston Wingfield had almost not changed at all between college and now. His own pale hair was still kept back in a pompadour, and his eyes were still bottomless pits of cold that could only be matched by the depths of space itself. He still wore a long black coat over constant formalwear, and when he looked over to where you chatted with Stanley, he still oozed an aura of evil genius. “Hello again,” He offered with a simple nod to you, but left you no room to respond to either him or Stan, “Why are you talking to them? I turn my back for five seconds, and you bolted off.” He accused his old friend. “Oh, um, sorry-” Stan cut you off nonchalantly, unbothered by the scientist’s hostility-laced tone. “Relax, Xee, I’m just making conversation. We’d barely said hello, it’s not like we’re swapping humiliatin’ stories.” Before the duo swapped expressions and huffs in some telepathic conversation. What the fuck are these two on… “Oh, shit, um...y’know, I should actually go.” You said, which earned you the center of attention once more. “I-I have frozen food in my cart, I need to get home before it melts and go bad, y’know? So sorry if that’s abrupt, I almost forgot.” And you two still give me the creeps. “Ah, right, my bad. I forgot you just got off of work, I shouldn’t keep you.” Stanley hummed, and you just did your best to nod and hurry off to the cash register before your face visibly paled in fear.

The last thing you heard was Xeno’s bitter hiss of, “Why would you say that?! They didn’t need to know you know that.” As unconcerned with what you heard as he was back in college. Though, this time, you weren’t simply cursed with whatever the barely ethical experiment of the week was.

[thejockout]

New File | "Dressed-Up Himbo"

"Deep down… all along… you’ve wanted to be a better himbo. You’ve wanted to embody everything that word means; to be big, and strong, and fun, and goofy, and so driven by libido it’s only fair others say you think with your dick… You want others to look at you and see pretty much everything you’ve got to offer. All surface… all flash, all beauty, all aesthetic. There’s a bit of shallowness to that perfect himbo. Even a bit of missing depth, but… who really cares, when you look that good? When you can feel so good in your bulging, flexing skin, and your pretty face, and all those beautiful clothes… that’s more than enough."

Dressed-Up Himbo is my third dedicated "himbo" file. It builds on the programming of Himbo Unchained/Himbo Muscle Freak (though you don't need either to enjoy this one), so it plays off similar tropes. Muscular, beautiful, vapid. Peep the quote above!

However, this file does contain explicit dumbing and some dominant language over the listener. It additionally contains my first dabble into clothing/style changes via hypnosis... it makes you, specifically, want to wear formalwear, dress smart and fashionably, with some brief allusions to being so big you bulge out of a dress shirt in your office. And for some people, that'd be embarrassing - but for a good himbo like you? Being everyone's sex object will just turn you on.

Listen and enjoy, good boy. And if you really enjoy, send me a tip on Throne.

CONTENT WARNINGS:

Dumbing down - not incredibly specific, so if you're worried, try my "P.S: Dumb Definition" file to reflect on what being a dumb himbo might mean to you.

Shallowness/some narcissism - emphasis on valuing your appearance most in terms of what you offer others. Style, muscle, your natural beauty... it all combines to make you the best himbo you can be.

General masculinization - male pronouns, references to a male body, and suggestions to want to look and feel more masculine as you become bigger, dumber, and more beautiful.

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https://linktr.ee/jockout

When I'm not dropping myself or others, I'm off being a mystical forest bro in the wilderness of Ireland. But I am always available for commissions if you reach out via DM. My flat rate is currently $65-100, but you can check my pinned Tumblr post for more up-to-date info. You can also support me with a one-time tip either via Paypal or Ko-Fi! Keep listening, bros.

[blushedfemmes]

my fucking browser crashed the first time i tried to send this ask so let’s try again

i know we are into roachification round here but what about gentleman forcemasc. starting with telling them they should get a suit bc plenty of women wear suits after all. giving them one with no curves, no tailoring to make it look more feminine or shaped to their body. getting way too close to “help” them button it up, making sure you’re caressing their skin and taking far longer than necessary. dabbing some musky cologne on their neck yourself and calling it a new perfume, still insisting it’s the modern trendy thing to do if they doubt you. going out to dinner and casually dropping “such a gentleman” when they hold the door open for you and watching their brain short circuit. of course fucking them when you get home with the suit still on, just unbuttoned and pushed out of the way, cooing about what a good boy they are while they moan. is this anything. are we vibing.

🐈‍⬛

oh hell yes…. would love to have someone come to me for help getting ready for a fancy event because they like my style, thinking i’ll dress them in something similar, only for me to drag them to the men’s formalwear section… they go along with it, thinking of famous women in their tailored suits on the red carpet. they realize that’s not what i’m going for when i pick out a pocket square, nice men’s dress shoes. they start to protest when i select a tie. but it pulls the look together, i tell them with a sweet smile. brings out the color of their eyes. and is there anyone who can resist the full-force flattery beam of a determined femme? i know they’d fold, and when i make them do a spin to show off the completed look, they’d start to realize they might like being called handsome, especially coming from a femme with that gleam in his eyes. the gleam that says he’s gonna yank on that tie while riding them later.