#dapper dresser

[hausofhaha]

I have noticed that Jim Parsons is always wearing a plaid shirt or striped shirt of some kind in his candids. He must love those. Whose complaining though? They look great on him!

#jim parsons #dapper dresser

[beardedmrbean]

So the perfect subreddit does exist then

#bees #save the bees #polinators #and dapper dressers too

[saucedlx]

it’s so hard enjoying any sorta old media when it’s full of people being weird about how “everything used to be GREAT and now it SUCKS and we should GO BACK!” like cmon just appreciate old stuff without that pungent rose-tinting that makes you think there used to never be problems and nothing has improved

#wow i miss the GOOD OLD DAYS when cities #were clean and people WORE SUITS ALL THE TIME (kids these days wouldnt be sharp dressers) #i like watching old footage of cities and if you scroll down it's like full of people going and my response changes from like 'these were #often recorded by tourists so why would they film something they didnt think was pretty' and 'ig thats true but why is it a bad thing' #hot take alert: i think it's good that people can go outside dressed however theyre most comfortable with and not have to be dapper 24/7 #a saucedlx original

[pizzaapeteer]

A little sappy - Enzo Berkshire

Week 4 of @thatdammchickennugget hogmarch challenge! Used the prompt "May I have this dance?" and slipped in the fireworks too tehe. A wee little blurb of Enzo making your dreams come true. Pretty divider from here

Warnings: female reader, fluffy mostly, implied smut, few mentions of divorce.

“There you are. Hope you’re not hiding from me now, dove.” Enzo’s large frame pops round the bend of the door, his brown eyes taking in your pretty appearance. Hunched over the dresser, knees pulled up to your chest, bunching your elegant dress. Not exactly appropriate for the type of party you were at, which was why he loved it. 

You roll your eyes once spotting Enzo, placing the book down on the dresser, meeting his eyes. “Of course not, just needed a little space.” 

Enzo steps into the room, allowing you to see the full reveal of his dapper outfit, dressed in a full three-piece suit, looking quite the gentleman. Such an optimal disguise at hiding his usual scoundrel appearance, making everyone in sight gush over him.

You had disappeared upstairs to your old room, hoping the memories of your childhood would calm yourself from spiraling. An overwhelming sensation had filled your head the moment you stepped back into the house, the tension stirring below becoming palpable to all of your parents' recent divorce. 

His eyes glaze over your mopey dismay, before spotting the brightly covered novel enticing a groan. “What is that, a muggle romcom? Don’t tell me I'm just finding out now, you're into sappy shit.” His voice held a slight mocking disappointment as he reached, inspecting the cheesy title. Cocking a brow, he uttered, “You ditched me for this?”

Heat rises to your cheeks as you roll your eyes again, stifling a laugh. “I am. It’s not sappy, it's romantic.” Sighing, your eyes shift, moving to the mirror, you fix a strand of your hair falling from your unwanted perfect hairdo. “I’m giving you my full attention now, berk.” 

“Romantic huh.” the sounds of the music float through the open space, the clear sign your father has turned on the gramophone downstairs. His head quips towards it, chuckling, “looks like your family is starting the annual dance.” 

However, you make no effort to move, having no interest in showing face any longer. The idea of contorting your face into a flawless appearance of perfection for your family’s reputation revolts you. It bothered you that it had led to this as you enjoyed the free feeling of dancing. The thrill of intimacy with a person for that mere moment of dance, no words spoken, bodies pressed close. It was the closest thing to a romantic gesture you could get.  

“I’m not going back down.” You state your tone laced with melancholy. 

An amused snicker falls from his lips, sensing your unpleasantness at his suggestion. “Want me to ask you to dance and all that proper shit, cuz I'll do it”. He extended his hand, bowing slightly, his head raised, meeting your eyes. “May I have this dance?” His lips curving into a dampened smile, truly wanting to see you mirror his affection. 

A laugh escapes you, brows shooting up at Enzo’s sudden chivalrous manner, an unusual demeanor for him. But notherthanless, you appreciate his seemingly genuine offer and beam at him, standing to give him a playful curtsy matching his formalities. 

Fingers meet as he holds your hand, his other sliding down to grip your waist. Faces inches apart, your gaze acclamatory, appreciating his way of cheering you up. You rest your other hand on his tall shoulder, feeling his defined muscles tightening under his blazer. 

The two of you start to move, swaying in harmony, shuffles of feet on the wooden floorboards. A burst of warmth engulfs you as the two of you spin, circling in synchronisation, slow and embracing each other’s rhythm. It differed from how you usually felt when dancing, an extra sense of amour dipping into the action. 

Enzo twirls you, his arm extending as you duck underneath it, pulling you back against his chest abruptly. A small oof is exhaled from you, Enzo’s brown orbs twinkling with amusement before seizing your chin and smashing his lips onto yours.

The warmth within you only spreads, heat rising like a flame inhaling gasoline as your lips press back against his. It was everything you dreamed of. While it had Enzo’s flare added into it, the moment was completely romantic to you. Your stomach whirled, the butterflies flapping rapidly within the pit. A scene straight out of one of your muggle books.

As he pulls back noticing your awestruck expression, he sniggers lowly his hand still resting on the nape of your neck. "Don’t tell me you felt like a donkey kick or whatever it is.”  

You’re too happy to feel any offence by his reaction, a giggle rippling out of you. “You mean fireworks?” Hints of a red hue adorn your cheeks. “Will you still kiss me if I did?” 

He cocks a brow, an arrogant smirk spread on his lips as he crows, “makes sense when you’re kissing someone as handsome as me.” Tousling his hair unsettling the gel out of place, his smirk stretches into a tantalizing grin, “only if you let me set off fireworks elsewhere.”  His lips are back on yours once again, spurring another burst of passion exploding within you. As Enzo feels the growing burst of light within himself too, he can’t help but admit that maybe this sappy shit isn't too bad.

Masterlist

#Enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire fluff #enzo berkshire blurb #enzo berkshire x female reader #slytherin boys #hogmarch challenge

[junggunz]

red flag ft. cheon taejin | 🔞

summary: taejin might be a red flag, but who cares when red is your favorite color. wc: 1.6k cw: fem!reader | PWP | smut | size kink | choking | squirting | one instance of degradation | creampie | all characters featured are 18+ an: oOps my fingers slipped. shoutout to @carapparuru11 for planting this idea in my head LOL

“Red flags? Who cares? You’re gonna have fun.”

Taejin’s words echoed in your mind as you laid in bed, contemplating whether or not to text him again after you had casually brought up how when you first saw him you thought of him as a set of walking red flags. The shroud of mystery surrounding his past and what he actually does for work made you wary of him, yet you found yourself intrigued. Charming, well spoken, incredibly attractive, a dapper dresser—and on top of that, reeking of wealth— he checked a lot of boxes for you. 

The fact that he even alluded to the fact that he was toxic should have been enough for you to back off from him but you were at a point in life where you craved excitement. 

Without putting much thought into it, you text him and ask what he’s doing. Once you send the text, you realize how late into the night it is and assume he probably wasn’t gonna reply because he was sleeping. And if he was still awake, he’d probably assume you just wanted to hook up. Though it would be dishonest to say that you weren’t curious about what he was packing in those expensive dress pants, the last thing you wanted was for him to see you as easy. 

But of course, it was in your cards for Taejin to text back within ten minutes and ask if you want him to come over. By the time he’s at your apartment, things play out like every other casual fling you’ve had. Playful banter turns into lingering touches. Which leads to kissing and then making out with heavy petting. And not too long after, he’s asking where your bedroom is so the two of you can progress to foreplay.

Taejin gets you naked in a record amount of time, his lips and hands leaving no spot on your body untouched. He makes you cum on his fingers and tongue at least three times and he’s still not even undressed yet. 

“I can’t take anymore— just put your dick inside me.” You whine breathlessly, thighs trembling as you try to squirm out of his hold. Your heart is hammering against your chest, echoing in your ears so you barely hear the amused chuckle he lets out as he pulls away from you; licking the clear gloss of your arousal off of his lips.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to break you.” He teases, a gentle hand going to stroke your inner thighs. “I just wanted to make sure I prepped you enough.”

“I’m not an amateur, I’m ready.” You insist with a small scoff, already starting to get the feeling that he was trying to overcompensate for something by distracting you with how talented his mouth and fingers were. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at Taejin as he finally takes off his clothes. But even in your dimly lit bedroom, you can see the clear outline of his not so little friend not even trying to hide in his designer boxer briefs. As the last garment comes off, you hold your breath and try not to gasp when you finally see his cock spring out of the fabric. Any notions of Taejin not being well endowed were squashed and you feel your confidence plummet as he settles back between your legs, hand wrapped around the base of his length while he drags the bulbous head along your folds.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet now.” Taejin laughs upon seeing the awestruck expression etched on to your pretty features. 

The nervous feeling bubbling in the pit of your stomach isn’t enough to curb your desire to feel him inside you but now that the polite facade that you were initially drawn in by was broken and you were experiencing a more arrogant side of him, you were frustrated more than just sexually.

“You’re taking so long. You’re starting to make me think that you have performance anxiety.” You quip back, your eyes darting between his face and the tip of his cock catching all of the nectar leaking out of you.

 “Oh, you’re in it for now. I hope you’re on the pill.”

Before you can make another sassy remark, the words die on your tongue and instead a garbled moan pours erupts from your throat as you feel Taejin abruptly slam into you, feeding you every inch of his thick cock at once. Your hands fist the sheets beneath you, holding on to them for dear life as you endure the feeling of being stretched out by him. In the back of your mind, you know that if you want the pain to subside, you need to relax; but it seems like your body doesn’t wanna cooperate. Despite the initial sting of being filled to the hilt by this Herculean man, your walls hug his cock so tightly—you knew he wasn’t able to start moving too quickly even if he wanted to. Settling for slow bucks of his hips for the time being, his large hands settle on your waist.  

“How cute.” Taejin says quietly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he looks down at you. Your line of sight follows his and you see the way your lower tummy bulges every time he sheathes himself completely in your warmth. When he draws back, you don’t miss the shiny, translucent streaks of your juices decorating his cock that only seem to increase every time he pushes into you. “You really do take dick like a pro.” He chuckles when he feels your pussy easing up around him and finally allowing him to seriously indulge in the slick heat between your legs.

You find yourself with your legs tossed over Taejin’s broad shoulders while your hands grasp on to his forearms, your body arching into his as he pounds away at your dripping cunt. From how obscenely you were moaning, to the way your bed frame knocked into the wall with every one of his rough thrusts and the sound of wet skin slapping against each other—you knew you would get a noise complaint in the morning. But it was totally worth it. 

On top of proving to you that he was seriously packing, you were learning first hand that he definitely knew how to fuck. Taejin and his big dick fucked you too good for him to not be toxic. He was right though, you were having the time of your life getting railed by him

It only gets better when the angle of his thrusts shift ever so slightly until the tip of his cock is bullying a sensitive spot deep within you that you didn’t even know existed until now. You don’t even need to tell him to keep hitting it because he can feel the way your gummy walls flutter around his cock in delight every time he pushes into that particular spot.

A few tears manage to slip out and stain your cheeks as you cry out in pure bliss from the sensation of having Taejin’s length ramming into your sweet spot; causing a creamy mess to gather around the base of his dick. 

“Oh—my god.” You mewl out deliriously, your eyes lolling around behind your eyelids as you feel a familiar coil of heat tightening in the pit of your stomach.

A rough scarred hand slides up the expanse of your torso before the long fingers curl around your neck and squeeze the sides ever so slightly.

“You’re gonna cum? Already?” Taejin asks mockingly, noticing the way your walls were starting to try and hold his cock in place while he rammed into you; the steady thwack of his balls against your ass not faltering one bit. 

“So close—” You utter the words in a voice breathier and whinier than usual, his pubic bone catching your clit with every deep thrust he gives you and pushing you closer to your climax. His hand on your throat tightens its hold, a guttural groan rumbling in his chest when he feels your pussy clamp down on him again. 

“Fine. Cum on my dick, you fucking slut.” Taejin grunts, his thrusts losing their precision and selfishly chasing after his own climax since he knew you were close to cumming either way. You moan and squirm beneath him, sobbing as the head of his cock repeatedly hits your cervix. Something about the pain laced pleasure has your juicy pussy greedily swallowing his length until you’re a babbling mess with shaking legs that’s soaking his dick. 

The action seems to please Taejin as a wolfish smile spreads across his face before his head falls back with a deep moan, giving you a couple more toe curling thrusts that stir up your insides and you feel his warmth dispersing within you. He fucks you through your orgasm, leaving you well spent and gifting you his cum in the deepest part of your pussy. When he pulls out, a small whimper escapes you as you’re now empty but you’re too fucked out to find the words to ask him to fill you again. Albeit being slightly sweaty and out of breath, Taejin is quick to get back on his feet and rummage through his clothes on the floor to fish a box of smokes and a lighter out of his pocket. As much as you want to chide him for smoking in your bedroom, you admit that it was a well deserved post coital cigarette.

“Text me again. I’ll save your number so I can remember who has the wettest pussy I’ve been in.”

#lookism smut #lookism x reader #cheon taejin x reader #cheon taejin smut #taejin cheon scenarios #lookism #lookism fanfic #lookism imagines #lookism manhwa #lookism webtoon #junggunz.txt

[rugtopper]

I Hate Butterscotch

By Rugtopper

I was beyond excited.  After making every excuse imaginable to see my dentist whenever I could over the years, Dr. Goldstein finally asked me out to dinner.  Yes, I guess I could have been bold and asked him myself, but he is at least 25 years older than me.  I have had a crush on him since I was a teenager.  He is so handsome and dapper.  He also has something else that most anyone, male or female, would find off-putting.  He wears a toupee.  It's not high quality in any way.  It doesn't even match the color of his real hair. You see, I have this bizarre problem:  I have a fetish for toupees.  Every time I'm in that dentist's chair, I get so turned on just staring at Dr. Goldstein's hard, fake hairline.  His toupee is a deep chestnut brown, very thick and full, with a traditional left-sided part.  The thing that makes it stand out is the upsweep off the forehead.  There are far better hairpieces on the market that he could have purchased, but for whatever reasons he went with a less-than-perfect facsimile of human hair.  I have never said anything to him about it, although I have wanted to.  

The night finally arrived.  I had changed my mind nine times over what to wear.  I knew he was taking me to a very upscale restaurant, so I knew I needed to wear a suit.  I had debated which of the three I owned to wear, and decided to wear the dark navy; then, there was the decision about the tie.  I had many in my collection that had belonged to older male relatives who had passed on.  Twenty minutes before he arrived, I finally decided on a bright floral.  My shirt was crisp and white.  My undershirt was taut across my pecs and clearly apparent underneath.  I had decided to wear these silly silk pink boxer shorts with red and white hearts on them - just in case.  I had gone all-in with garters for my socks.  I had worn them since college.  A fraternity brother had gotten me into them.

Dr. Goldstein arrived on time looking handsome as ever in a dark charcoal suit.  Like me, his shirt was crisp and white, but thicker than mine.  Still, I could see the faint outline of the scoop of his a-shirt.  I knew he had more traditional leanings in apparel.  When I opened my front door, my voice caught in my throat.  The way the porch light seemed to magnify the artificiality of his hairpiece took my breath away.  I didn't want to go to the restaurant.  I just wanted him in my bed with his hair on my dresser.  Still, I managed to find my voice and greet him.

"Good evening, Dr. Goldstein."

"None of that 'doctor' stuff tonight, Chris.  Please call me Jake.  Now, are you ready?  That restaurant won't hold our reservation."

"Sure, of course."

I'll skip over the dinner conversation.  It was pleasant, but pedestrian.  The food was excellent.  I thought that I had been fairly successful in avoiding staring at his hair, but I guess I failed because as we got to dessert and coffee Jake put his fork down and looked directly into my eyes.

"Uh, Chris, is there something wrong with my hair?  You keep staring at it."

I immediately crossed my legs and said, "I am so sorry, Jake.  I didn't mean to stare, or embarrass you.  I never would want to do that."

"Then why do you keep staring at it?  You seem to do it all the time, especially when you're in the chair for your checkups."

"I apologize, Jake.  It's just that . . . Never mind.  I can't say."

"Of course you can, Chris.  I've known you since you were 12.  You can tell me anything."

"Okay.  Uhm . . .  I don't want to embarrass you or hurt your feelings."

"You won't, Chris.  Now, just say it."

I took a sip of my coffee.  It tasted very bitter, so I added another spoonful of sugar and took another sip.  "Okay.  Jake, I really love your hair.  I think it is so beautiful.  There, I finally said it out loud".  After I said that, I tightened my crossed legs even more to keep what little I had from popping up.

At first, Jake got this slightly shocked look on his face, then he seemed to blush.

"You didn't hurt my feelings at all Chris.  In fact, I'm quite flattered.  But, I'm also somewhat embarrassed."

"I'm so sorry, Jake.  Now I'm embarrassed for upsetting you." I took another sip of coffee.

"Chris, I'm not upset, but I am a little embarrassed.  You see, this is very difficult for a man to admit, but I actually wear a toupee."

I crossed my legs even tighter, forcing my nuts to roll up inside myself!  I tried to keep a pleasant look on my face, but I was so excited.  I was also suddenly flushed and slightly dizzy.

"It looks great," I lied to him.  Actually, it looked great for someone with my issues, but it looked bad for someone who is trying to convince the world that his hair is real.

"I had to start wearing one when I was in college.  A lot of men are embarrassed about losing their hair, especially at a young age.  Are you okay, Chris?  You don't look well." What I tried to say was, 'I feel fine if a bit warm'.  What came out was some sort of incoherent gibberish.  After that, I think I passed out, but I really don't remember.

The next thing I do recall was the acrid smell of burning hair, and a coolness on my knees.  I slowly opened my eyes.  I was sitting in a huge barber's chair with a clear cape covering me, yet I could see my undergarments!  What was going on?  I looked up and saw my reflection in a huge mirror.  There was a husky man standing behind me.  He had the most exquisite black pompadour, clearly a full wig.  He was holding a tiny pen with a cord attached.  He kept touching the top of my head with it.  Each time he did, I felt a slight tinge and smelled burning hair - my hair.  There was only stubble on the top, but the rest of my hair on the back and sides had been trimmed very short.  I tried to talk, but was unable to utter a word.  In front of the mirror was a shallow ledge.  There were two styrofoam wig heads with a very dark ginger toupee on each.  At first I tried to think who I'd like to see wearing them.  As my mind cleared more and more, I realized that those toupees were for me.  As this reality became clear, I saw Jake via the mirror walking toward me.  

"Oh, good.  I'm glad you are finally waking up, Chris.  You know, I love the cute boxer shorts you wore just for me.  Still, it's a waste of all that silk to cover that little dicklet of yours.  I bet you sit down to pee.  Still, it's good to know you have some traditional leanings in your choice of apparel."

"What's going on, Jake?" It sounded somewhat slurred.  I must have still been hung over from whatever was in that bitter coffee.

The husky barber continued to denude my scalp while Jake spoke.

"Chris, you are very intelligent.  I think you have figured it out.  I am flattered by your schoolboy crush.  I even found the story you wrote about me.  Now, don't look so startled.  I recognized myself in the story immediately, even if you did change my name.  You see, Chris, you were very chatty a few months ago during that extraction surgery.  Afterwards, with Antonio's professional skills, I decided to help you become the mature man you have longed to be.  I think you need to know what it's like to have everyone stare at your hair all the time."

As Jake finished talking, he took a step back.  Antonio took one of the toupees off the styrofoam head and applied four pieces of tape to the underside.  Two of the pieces of tape were curved.  They were placed at the front and back of the hairpiece.  On the sides were placed two straight strips.  Antonio quickly placed the toupee on my head.  The perimeter was rather stiff.  The tape immediately stuck to my scalp.  When Antonio had my new hair on my head, I felt the curved tape in back adhere just above my occipital bone. I knew then that I was forever going to be a Norwood Six male patterned bald man in a rug. I could feel the light mesh foundation of the center of the toupee against my smooth, sensitive bald head.  The toupee was thick and full with a fixed left-sided part.  The texture was smoother than my own hair.  The contrast between my flat brown hair and what had been taped to my head was stark to say the least.  Antonio began trimming my new, fake hair with scissors. He used a small handheld steamer in the front. Suddenly I could tell he was giving me the same up-sweep that Jake's toupee had. I realized that apart from the color, I had the same model toupee as Jake did. The laser wand Antonio had earlier used had killed the hair on the top of my head. It has also destroyed the hair at my temples. Without that, it was even more glaringly obvious what I had on my head. My little dicklet decided to do a happy dance. I was enjoying my new look without a thought about the day-to-day life experiences I would certainly encounter.

I was mesmerized, humiliated, vulnerable, and thrilled all the same time.  I was also a little upset.

"It's butterscotch," I blurted out.  "I hate butterscotch."

"I know Chris.  You told me after that surgery as the nitrogen oxide was wearing off.  You told many, many things.  You told me about your crush you have had for me, and you told me one other thing."

As Antonio finished styling my new hair, Jake walked up behind me, leaned down beside my ear, and whispered, "you have a great toupee, Chris, but it's still just a cheap toupee."

The End

#cheap toupee #hair replacement for men #toupee for men #voluntary bald fringe #male transformation #men's sock garters #men's tank tops #wifebeater #men in boxers #vintagemen #men's wigs #a-shirt #boxer shorts #sock garters #traditional men #becoming traditional #wifebeaters #tanktop

[tavoit]

Singer and actor John Boles was the whole package

Dapper dresser

Learned his lines

Matinee idols looks

And he could do Crow Pose--in the sand.

#john boles

[notbrookesbooks]

The Dapper Dresser server will be closing down today but come join our new server that’s based around Hazbin/Helluva! The server is 20+, so verification is necessary - come meet some new friends!

#discord chat #alastor #hazbin hotel #helluva boss

[wonderlandoffanfics]

Manifest Fantasies – dat dress tho

Okay so I couldn't stop and there are two smutty follow ups to my first fic! I had to write about the outfits reader got....

part 1

Part 2

swimsuit addition

WC: 2451

CW: fem reader,  MDNI, alcohol usage, drunk comfort, vaginal penetration, no protection mentioned, use of barrier power during sex, accidentally got a bit cute with this one (that was not the plan but here we are)

Reminder of the dress: A red dress; the top of it secured around your neck like a collar and has an open diamond shape down the front to show your cleavage. No sleeves, backless, and a high slit on the left leg as it drapes down to the floor but hugs your curves.

“I think we should stop there…” you hear Barto say, “We’ll chart course right away!” a crewmate chimes back and you hear his footsteps wander away. Unable to help yourself, you walk into the room and sidle yourself up to Barto, “Where to now, Captain?” You give him your best doe-eyed look as you feel him stiffen at your sudden appearance.

Knowing he’s been caught, he looks at the ceiling, “Y/n!” you can see him trying to think of how to evade your question, clearly it’s a secret for you to some degree. “We’re going to an island with a special event on it.” He says without looking at you in your eyes. “What do you mean? What kind of event, Barto?”

You can see the wheels turning, when he finally sighs and gives in to your questioning, “We’re going ta join a kind of fancy party, I suppose ya should know now anyway so ya can get ready – we’ll be docking in a few hours.” He says and kisses you on the cheek with a quick smirk. You immediately hug him and rush away to get dressed. You’ve been dying for a reason to wear that red dress he bought for you months ago and it seems he has been working towards giving you a place to use it. It brings you such joy to know how he spoils you.

Your hair is done, make-up done, dress on, and looking fire. You walk from the bathroom and into your bedroom to get your shoes and jewelry on when you hear a knock at the door. “Come in!” you shout, continuing your activities at your dresser. Barto comes in, dressed to the nines in a three piece suit, you’ve never seen him look so dapper; your mouth opens and you can’t stop staring at how handsome he looks before you.

“Barto…. You look so good,” you practically float over to him with hearts in your eyes and grab into his tie, pulling him down into a kiss, “I didn’t know you had this suit.” He’s red as you pull away to look at him more, and you realize he has something hidden behind his back, “what do you have?”

“One final surprise, close your eyes.” He says and you follow instructions. You feel him place something on your face, “okay, open.” He says and you look at him. He is wearing a mask that covers the top half of his face; it’s black with silver details and spiral horns coming up off the top edge. You turn to the small mirror on top of your dresser and look at your own face, adorned with a small red mask, also with silver details and jewels in the center, the sides flare out giving a featherlike feel.

“We’re going to a Masquerade in town that celebrates this islands history!” he exclaims. “Ah! This will be so fun!” you link arms with him as he leads you out towards the deck. The ship is already docked and the men whistle at you both as you are escorted away into a lively town, decorated with dynamic and colorful ornaments, garlands, balloons, etc.

Within the town itself, Barto had led you to the epicenter of the festivities, a large building filled to the brim with people; all dancing and drinking. You both join the fun, enjoying every bit of the entertainment and free flowing liquids. For hours it seems the party will never end and you feel yourself getting tired, and a bit too drunk.

Never having left your side, Barto notices you faltering and fading, “Want ta go somewhere more quiet for a while?” he asks and you nod, clearly very intoxicated. Without saying anything else, he picks you up, like he did when you agreed to join the crew and sits you on one of his arms, wrapping yours around his neck and burying your masked face against his shoulder. He takes you through the large building and locates an empty room upstairs. It’s small and filled with books, a desk, and a cozy sitting area with a chaise lounge.

He sets you gently down on the couch and goes back to lock the door, ensuring no one will bother you as you rest from the raucous events downstairs. “Ya okay, y/n?” you nod again at him, unable to form words. You were certainly drunk enough that you weren’t able to think properly, but not enough that you were sick… yet. You’ve had this feeling before, and just needed to lie back for a while as your body took over and processed everything you had slammed back. If you pushed too hard that would be the end of not feeling ill.

Barto took off your mask and stayed by you, holding your hand and checking in with you. After about 20 minutes or so, you think, you were able to sit up. Barto immediately held you and rubbed your bare back; you leaned on him, closed your eyes, and took deep breaths with the pace of his stroking, enjoying the calm and his hand on your skin. “You’re too good to me,” you mumble out to him, still sounding very tipsy, “taking me with you, showing me the best places, and putting up with me right now….I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve such a good man….I love you so much, Barto….”

It doesn’t register with you what you’ve said but Barto is beyond aware of the confession that just drunkenly spilled from you. He feels his face heat up and cannot contain his smile, “I love you too, Y/n” he whispers back to you but recognizes you are now asleep in his arms.

---

It’s dark when you next open your eyes. There’s light coming from under a door and you start to recall where you are as you hear the masquerade still raging down below the floor. As your eyes adjust more to the dimly lit room you try to sit up but Barto’s arm is wrapped around you, holding you to his chest; you’re laying almost completely on top of him on the chaise lounge that he barely fits on.

You smile at him through the darkness and lie your head back down on him, listening to his heart beat and breathing. His hand begins to move up your back as he stirs beneath you, “Y/n?” he says softly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get that drunk. I hope I wasn’t too much of a pain.” He pets your hair, “Not at all, love.” His last word hits your ear and shocks you upright. He still has his mask on but you can see his fanged smile and confident eyes looking at you.

It hits you, before you passed out you confessed to him. You hadn’t meant for that to slip out but you don’t regret the truth that the booze had pulled from you. He makes you feel so cared for, safe, and comfortable to be yourself. Every time you look at him your heart goes wild and since you became a couple you have wanted nothing more than to be at his side each day; exploring the world and experiencing life together. You do love him; every aspect of his silliness and strength, his crude humor and admiration of his heroes, any time he takes charge of the crew and when he relaxes in your arms at night. He was multitudes of depth you didn’t realize a person could be; you were attracted to his personality, his body, his mind, like a log pose to an island.

All the love in your person was overflowing; you wanted him closer, you always want him closer. You shift yourself up his body and glide your lips along his neck, leaving kisses every few centimeters until you reach his chin. You hover over his mouth for a split second before he takes you with passion. His embrace is gentle but strong, every bit of himself pouring into you, making your adoration for each other that much more apparent.

Your hands begin working to unbutton his vest and shirt, untucking the front from his pants and sliding your hand over his torso, tracing his abs and grabbing his pecs. His hands reach down to your thighs, squeezing and pulling you closer; one hand able to grip your bare skin thanks to the slit of the dress moves up to your ass and he lets out a hum when he realizes you choose not to wear underwear. You’re now more than aware of how hard he is beneath you, his pants struggling to keep him contained.

Within seconds you are lifted up, both off the couch as he carries you to the desk on the other side of the small room and sits you down on the edge of it. He moves the sides of your dress in between your boobs and gropes them, now free of what little material covered them to begin with. Moving down your body he bites and licks every bit of bare skin, your nipples, to your hips, he glides down onto his knees in front of you and looks into your eyes as he spreads your legs and opens the bottom of your dress, exposing you to the cool air in the room.

One hand on each knee, he moves them sensually up your inner thighs. He drags his lips along the same trail as his hands wrap underneath you, fingers reach around the top of your legs, controlling your position in front of him. He commences licking at your folds, with bold firm strokes of his tongue. You grab his mask and toss it to the side, reveling in being able to see his satisfied smirk against your pussy.

His tongue sinks into you and he rubs his nose and piercing to your clit, the contrast in warm skin and cold metal cause you to tremble, heat pooling in your core. He pulls noises from you that you didn’t know you could create. He brings his right hand back to your inner thigh and teases entry to you, dragging his tongue firmly out of you and up onto your clit, flicking the tip of it over you and swirling in circles before he sucks on it and gently nudges his teeth to it.

You’re breathing hard, whimpering his name, pulling his hair and losing yourself against his skilled mouth. He adds two fingers to the mix and you feel him go deep inside you, hitting your favorite spots like never before, your face telling him how close you are as he drives more moans and whines from you. With his fingers spreading inside you, he slips his tongue between them and laps at the essences spilling from you as you reach your peak, his thumb taking over on your bud to keep your stimulation riding in waves.

Your back hits the desk, unable to sit up anymore from his ruinous fervor.  As you lie on the cool lacquered finish you hear his belt clicking and pants being unzipped, your eyes move to look at him, now standing between your legs, and leaning over you. He’s leaking precum that you can feel smear on your skin when his length drags along your lower stomach.

He gives you a taste of yourself with his mouth and forces his hands under you, lifting you back up towards him. You are at his mercy as he flips you around and presses your breasts against the smooth wood, lifting your dress and tucking the length under your hips giving you cushion from the harsh edges of the desk. The forceful nature he’s wielding is another new side to him, you can’t help but drip with arousal knowing he’s about to take you how he wants to.

His feet force yours to spread further apart and his hands rub the back of your thighs. With a covetous grumble he grips your hips firmly, thumbs on your ass pulling you open to be fully viewed from behind. He lines himself up with your needy hole, giving you just the tip of his large dick and leans back over you, pressing his chest to your back, slack tie tickling your spine. “You’re mine. Made just for me. Now and forever.” He purrs against your ear and your writhe under him, desperate for him to be fully inside you. “I’m yours.” You echo with a smoldering tone, “I love you.”

The outpouring of your confession hits him again; now much more aware it wasn’t just a slip of your drunken self. He ends the torment of being so close but so far from you and plunges himself deep within your heat. His unyielding lust for you brings tantalizing bliss to your face, your hands want to feel him but as you try to move he uses his barrier power to pin your wrists to the desk. He’s never used his power like this on you before and you find yourself throbbing and tightening at the feeling that he is in full control.

You scream his name as he ravenously pounds into you, completely and utterly at his disposal. “Fu…ck” you stammer, his hand using his power now keeping your lower back pressed down while the other twists around your hips to press his fingers to your clit. As he thrusts, his balls slap against you and his fingers, he uses the additional motion to work you into delirium.

“Close” he murmurs, barely audible to you. He adds a bit of pressure with his fingers, sending your body into an electric tension. You cum hard around him, sending him to his own paradise inside you, he twitches wildly as he releases everything he has into you.

His power no longer holds you down but his body does. He catches his breath on top of you, kissing your shoulders and upper back, entangling his fingers with yours over the back of your hands, “I love you too.” You smile at his words and let out a giggle of pure joy.

He pulls out of you and tugs his pants back up, getting dressed again while you try to stand up straight, leaning against the desk for support and tucking your breasts back into your dress. You turn and help him button his vest back up, loosely moving his tie back into place so he doesn’t look as disheveled as you both feel. “Let’s go home, Barto.” You say patting his chest once you’re satisfied with his suit. He grabs the masks and puts them on you both, leaning down and kissing you gently, “To home, my love.”

#x reader #mdni #bartolomeo #bartolomeo x reader #bartolomeo one piece #bartolomeo the cannibal #bartolomeo smut #wonderlandoffanfics

[fr-likes-chocolate]

Pt 3 of Code Imposter Phil au

Also! Shoutout to @totallynotbat they helped me develop this AU into more than just a random oneshot. Thanks!

------

Bad...

Bad..!

Bad!

Bad!!

BAD!!

Bad’s eyes snapped open and he jolted up, only to groan and put his hand on his now bandaged chest. He felt four pairs of hands gently hold him down. He looked up at the eggs holding him, Cheyanne, Tallulah, Ramon, and Dapper. A smile touched Bad’s lips, “you guys are ok...” he breathed a sigh of relief and looked over to the person who had been calling his name, Fit.

“I'm glad you are awake Bad, the injury you received wasn't like Phil’s thank goodness... But we need to talk.” Bad thought for a moment, did Fit really need to know everything Phil had shown Bad right now? Bad himself needed time to process it. Maybe he could wait to tell the others...

“What is there to talk about Fit?” Bad asked quietly.

“Where is Phil? After I saved you, I checked Phil’s room and he wasn't there at all...” Well, crap... Bad wasn't ready for that at all.

“I... Dont know...” that was probably the safest explanation, it didn't involve telling Fit that Phil was nothing but scraps of code. “He was still there when I left to help you.” Bad continued, “Did he leave a note? Or a trail?”

Fit sighed, “No... He won't reply to me at all. I told everybody else to be on high alert for him or his imposter.” he sighed and glanced at where the eggs were playing, “I'll escort you and Dapper home, if you need anything, ask me or anybody else. I'm sure they are happy to help.” Bad smiled and nodded.

----

After Fit helped Bad get home and settled, he left, saying he needed to talk with the others about the care of Cheyanne and Tallulah. Bad tucked Dapper into bed and sat on a chair, thinking about what knowledge he had attained today. It messed with his mind and made him feel slightly sick to his stomach. It did make a little sense, with Admins playing eggs, and different admins subbing for eggs, another thing that made sense was the Chatters that everyone had. Bad sat down and stared absently at a wall. This was so much to take in.

“Hello.”

Bad looked up, was that one of his ghosts? No wait… it was a crow on the windowsill. “Uh… hi-” Bad said quietly, looking at the crow.

“Am Brian. Have you seen Philza?” the crow asked, Bad realized this was part of Phil’s chat.

Bad sighed, “No... He's-” Bad’s throat tightened with guilt. Phil was nothing but scraps of code floating around the island. How on earth does he tell that to a crow that Phil considered family?

As Bad opened his mouth to talk, he heard a thud from his room. Bad spun around and looked at the doorway to his room, his injury sending a wave of pain over him in the process. He groaned as he made his way over to his room, Brian flying beside him.

“Hello? Is there another crow in here?” Bad called out. The room stayed silent for a moment before another thunk was heard from behind Bad’s dresser. Brian flew over and peeked behind. Bad soon followed and managed to pull the dresser out a small bit, he gasped as his brain registered what he saw.

“Phil????”

A small squeaky voice answered him.

“Hi, mate!”

#philza #qsmp #qsmp philza #qsmp code monster #qsmp fitmc #code imposter philza #qsmp badboyhalo

[freddiemercurydaily]

5th of November 1985 - Freddie Mercury in another show-stealing moment with the lovely Jane Seymour during Fashion Aid

Freddie looked very dapper. I had the most amazing hair and makeup, of course in those days, the whole idea of very frizzy, full hair was in.

The headdress I was wearing weighed a ton, it was all real flowers. I remember it sticking in my head and I couldn’t wait to get it off, it was so heavy. The flowers I was carrying were very heavy too. It was a magical moment!

Freddie is not only incredibly talented but a very lovely man.

My favorite song by Queen is Bohemian Rhapsody.”

Fashion Aid - 5th November 1985, bringing top artistic talent from the fashion world and the world of music to raise funds for Ethiopia. The event featured 35 hairdressers, 60 makeup artists, 120 dressers, 125 models and celebrities from the entertainment world. The spectacular staged wedding took place at the Albert Royal Hall in London. Jane Seymour sauntered out in a white lace wedding gown tied up with bows designed by the Emanuels. Accessorised with a flower crown made of daisies and lilies, She made her way down the runway and planted a theatrical kiss on the lips of Freddie Mercury in front of 5,500 guests. Their vows were sealed and Mercury then took off down the catwalk with the massive bridal bouquet, throwing blossoms to the delighted crowd. It was all fun and for a good cause as well (organized by Bob Geldof to fight famine in Ethiopia).

Freddie, a fashion icon of unparalleled status, was dressed in the same Emanuel-designed Latin American-cum Russian Imperialist military dictator’s jacket that he’d unveiled at his 39th birthday party, a black and white drag ball in Munich exactly two months earlier. He looked incredible. Freddie was no stranger to fashion and this was one of his biggest scene-stealing fashion moments in history.

At the end of the evening, Freddie and Jane Seymour made their way to the hotel where the reception was being held, still dressed as the bride and groom.

Another Show-Stealing moment by Freddie Mercury himself!

So many gorgeous photos

#freddiemercury #gallery #publicappearence #event

[wheatleylaboratories]

the pipeline from elias bouchard apologist to andrew larson enjoyer...secret identities, dapper dressers, little mustaches...we love a character who is polite and also deeply evil 🤌

#andrew larson #elias bouchard #wallace larson #jonah magnus #the magnus archives #tma #malevolent #malevolent podcast #op is me

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

"A DANDY DRESSER WITH MASK AND RESPIRATOR, THIS WIZARD..."

PIC(S) INFO: Part 1 of 2 -- Spotlight on the horned, masked and dapper Wizard of Oz 6" action figure, from McFarlane's Monsters Series 2: "The Twisted Land of Oz," released by McFarlane Toys in September 2003.

BRAND: McFarlane's Monsters

GENRE: Horror & Fantasy

PRODUCT TYPE: Action Figure

SERIES: McFarlane's Monsters Series 2

"A dandy dresser with mask and respirator, this Wizard includes a miniature scientist sidekick."

-- MCFARLANE TOYS, c. fall 2003

Sources: https://mcfarlane.com/toys/wizard-with-scientist, GeekTyrant, various, etc...

#Twisted Land of Oz #McFarlane Toys #Action figures #Sci-fi Fri #Land of Oz #Toys #Horror Toys #The Wizard of Oz #McFarlane's Monsters Series 2 #Halloween Mood #Halloween Vibes #Horror #Action figure photography #Sci-fi #Sci-fi/horror #Emerald City #McFarlane'sMonsters: Twisted Land of Oz #The Wizard #Wonderful Wizard of Oz #Toy photography #L. Frank Baum #2003 #The Wonderful Wizard of Oz #Oz books #Sci-fi horror #The Twisted Land of Oz #McFarlane's Monsters #Wizard of Oz

[kiraman]

I AM ON MY KNEES SCREAMING ALL OVER THIS VID goodness me!! it takes a lot of NERVE to stare into someone BURSTING like a mf firework with rage and beg “COOL IT COOL IT COOL IT”

he is so SLEEK. so focused, ruthless, relentless, an agent of his own will, he can already see the finish line and nothing’s waiting for him there but death but he’s already dead anyway, he’s got nothing to lose. LIKE.

i can’t explaing how much I LOVE writing modern mizu as yakuza-born vengeful, furious, tormented orphan unleashed like a raging inferno upon the world, hungered for revenge!!!!! this is my fav AU and i am OBSESSED

he is the boogeyman? mizu is the onryo. he kills for what’s been violently taken from him? so does SHE and she’s unstoppable, uncompromising, ferocious, unhinged I AM RAMBLING but some parts of my story just have me so floored because I frantically, fiendishly adore this modern version of Mizu SO BAD

“One of the russians asks him incredulously if he’s got a woman stashed away somewhere. ’‘probably in a freezer” Vladmir, the driver, comments later. Mizu does not answer. She does not smile. Apathetically she slowly dons her leather jacket, readjusts her shades on her nose. In the morning, a man washes up on the banks of the river. Vladmir does not show up at work.

LIKE SHE. SHE!!!

and when she cries out in desperation, says “Mizu please. Fuck, please—” Mizu stills the hand between her legs to complete motionlessness, growls. “No— ride my hand.” And she does, god, she does, she’s a wild thing on her lap, feral with desire; she clutches at her shoulders and rolls her hips violently back and forth, lets her fingers sink inside her again and again, snapping her hips forward, hungered for more. Mizu keeps her hand achingly still, tightly pressed against her pussy, but she, too, is completely gone, hanging on by a thread; she watches her ride her hand, feels her walls spasm around her fingers, feels them quiver, god she’s burning from the inside out, taking her in again and again, she’s barely lifting her hips off of her now, keeps her fingers buried so deep inside her, Mizu thinks nothing will ever be able to fill her like her fingers have,

LIKE BITCH. why are you so FERAL.

She looks like an electrical storm waiting to happen. There is thunder in the way she cracks her bones, slow, precise, everything about her is so, dark and hungered, even the way she looks at you has teeth. She wonders who Smoke really is at 4 a.m. when the rest of the world is sleeping. She’s never seen her fall asleep, just once, back in that room, overtaken by fever…

listen writing this chapter is absolutely DEMOLISHING me. I am trying so so hard to find the right words and ways to make you all understand how INSANE she is, trying so hard to somehow cross all the wires. all of them. every wire in her very human damaged beyond repair (huh) brain—rage and fury, love, desire, sex, hatred, hunger, repulsion, shame, pragmatism and choice; affection and how she LOATHES it because she is so unworthy she doesn't know what to do with it , her anger that eats her up right down to her bones, pride, betrayal, her selfishness. her lies. all of them, every single one—make it snarl up like a bunch of her lover’s necklaces left on top of her dresser before she leaves her.

She rips right through the night like a bullet, fills her hands with blood. when she comes back she sits soaked in blood that is not her own on the floor and slowly, perfectly, unerringly unpicks those necklaces left on her dresser, so that Geraldine can wear them again. She does not react when she thanks her but eats her out like she is starving for it and when she tries to return the favour Mizu shrugs her off and takes the COLDEST iciest shower possible. when she leaves, she does not look back. BYE this girl is insane I love her. Mizu in her dapper suit, shades on, neon light glinting off its pristine skeleton, that sleek curling strand of her hair falling into her eye, sprawled out, legs open, the two top buttons of her shirt undone and a perpetual cold snarl on her mouth which is very sweet and sometimes slick with lipstick.... PEACE OUT

#this is me just being EXCITED over my own fictional character of a fictional character based on ANOTHER fictional character BYE #sex cw// #violence cw // #for the snippets lmao #writing misadventures galore. #john wick tag. #killing strangers. #inspo tag #UGHHHH #john wick mizu i know u would DETEST me but pls give me one (1) chance

[ikkaku-of-heart]

@chatcambrioleur asked: Smash or Pass + Sabo. Send Smash or Pass + a name and my muse will say if they would smash or pass on that person. (Still Accepting!)

"Sabo's handsome, a dapper dresser, is both a gentleman and a badass, and takes down governments for a living. All of that makes him, forgive the pun, hot as hell. Smash. I wouldn't mind him warming my bed on a cold night in the slightest."

#chatcambrioleur #Ask the Heart Engineer #Revolutionary Blonde (Sabo) #Goggle Squad (Revolutionary Army) #(Ikkaku vc: the goggles make him extra sexy. 10/10 would bang)

[aiiaiiiyo]

This man’s portrait was taken by Gainesville, GA photographer Nathan C. White, circa 1901-1910. Quite the dapper dresser. From my glass negative collection. (640x800) Check this blog!

#memorylanepr #historyporn #history