1. Xander

CHAPTER 1

XANDER

Gay for Lizard Dick: Hey, Xanny? Are you putting me in a skirt for the wedding?

Gay for Lizard Dick: Because Zion says you are…

How does he make that corset look so fucking good?

It was a rhetorical question, of course, since the man I was shamelessly ogling was Butch, and my baby looked good in everything.

Even better in nothing.

All natural resemblances to a snack aside, the current reason my soon-to-be husband looked so tasty was because his enormous pecs were spilling over from the tight confines of his virginal white and gold corset.

I wonder if I could squeeze my dick in there along with all that man meat…

Coitus inter… chesticle ? —

"Xan!" the object of my filthy fantasies gasped, his cheeks blazing a delicious shade to match the blood-red accents on my corset vest. "Stop… thinking so loudly over there. Sugar…"

Inventus-bond problems.

"Focus, Captain!" Simon briskly clapped his hands like the pint-sized dictator he was. "Fran?ois needs to finish the adjustments to ensure you won't resemble a can of freshly popped Pillsbury biscuits on your wedding day."

"Cheez-its, Simon." Butch blushed even harder—which was the only reason I didn't put our Mafia Queen in his place for the dig.

Well, that, and The Hand of Death lurking in the shadows.

"You look good enough to eat, sweetheart," I soothed, deciding on an indirect hit. "Simon's just jealous because he's not the literal embodiment of physical perfection."

"Simon is perfect," Wolfy hissed in my ear—way closer than I remembered him being—making my hair stand on end.

Don't show any fear, Xander.

"Calm down, No Touchy," I scoffed, blindly waving my hand and praying Wolfy's deeply ingrained instinct to not drain his siblings would get him to back off.

It would be bad manners to murder one of the grooms, right?

At least not until after the wedding.

Simon sighed heavily and glanced down at his 18K yellow gold La Panthère de Cartier watch. "Baby Hulk and his big lizard will be arriving shortly for their fitting, and I would prefer to remain on schedule. So chop-chop, everyone!"

Off with their heads .

"Who put you in charge here anyway?" I drawled, just to hear Wolfy growl again like the leashed dog he was.

The man who was actually in charge of our villainous clan turned to give me the full force of his wilting glare. "I did, Xander, since I rightfully assumed that out of all the degenerates in this family, I'm the one with the best fashion sense. Besides Wolfy, of course." He paused to tilt his head back and accept a kiss from my eldest brother before returning his judgmental attention to me. "And surely, you won't argue with that assessment, Doctor Antihero—not dressed as you are, hmm?"

I slid a hand down the front of my black and red corset vest, internally admiring the craftsmanship while outwardly appearing undecided.

"It'll do," I sniffed, throwing our family's tailor— Fran?ois —an exaggerated wink so the poor man knew I was kidding. "But this isn't my first corset, is it, baby?"

Butch dropped his head forward with a groan. "Xan… you really need to stop. I-I'm trying to concentrate…"

On looking like a snack?

"Sweetheart," I crooned, loving the idea of his big cock straining against the ‘engagement ring' I'd made him wear today. "All you need to do is look pretty—from now until when you're finally my husband."

All fucking mine.

Butch blushed again, only this time, it was with pleasure. "I can't wait," he whispered before eyeing Simon warily. "But… I could do more to help than just look pretty?—"

"Oh, there's no need," Simon brusquely cut him off while glancing at his watch again. "Trust me—the more I handle, the better." He raised his gaze and gave each of us a hard look in turn. "For everyone involved."

Clan Daddy placed a gloved hand on Simon's shoulder and squeezed with a leathery creak, chasing his inventus' glare with one of his own.

Let the dick measuring begin.

Luckily, the sound of all our phones chiming or vibrating at once interrupted the standoff.

The One With the Biggest Dick: Fuck corsets [middle finger emoji]

As if on cue.

The One With the Biggest Dick: This is what I'll be wearing to the wedding…

My phone chimed again with what I presumed was Vi sending a photo to The Rabble group chat, but I chose to watch Simon's reaction instead of looking at my phone.

Might as well enjoy the show.

"Merde…" the tiny tyrant growled, and I licked my lips in anticipation of the incoming explosion.

I wish I had some popcorn.

Knowing my sister, she'd sent anything from a photo of a hotdog costume to full dominatrix leather.

She does give off those Mommy vibes…

Gross.

"Why…" Simon began before becoming momentarily lost for words. "Why did I not think of that, mon chou? "

Huh?

Wolfy leaned down to look at the phone his scarier half held up, but the only clue I got to the big reveal was my brother humming in mild approval.

"Fran?ois!" Simon barked as he furiously texted his reply. "I require you to conduct one more appointment today, s'il te plait —for a suit fitting."

A suit?!

"Bien s?r, Monsieur Alarie," Fran?ois immediately replied in his thick accent. "I am at your disposal."

Be careful what you wish for, minion.

"It's Alarie-Suarez now," Simon absently mused as he read Vi's reply. "And my apologies for not employing your skill with that affair. It was more of a shotgun wedding than this one. A kidnapping, rather."

Wolfy purred like a jungle cat. "Yes. It was."

I wasn't the only one who'd found it weird that Simon and Wolfy's wedding in Villefranche hadn't been more ostentatious. It felt more like a bonus scene than anything, which was weird for someone with such main character energy.

That drama queen better not think he's gonna steal our spotlight…

"I hope you're not thinking of wearing white, Simon," I cooed, dangerously low—no longer interested in playing nice.

Mafia Queen or not, this is my baby's big day.

"Actually, I am," he curtly replied. When my inventus sharply inhaled, Simon sighed and elaborated. "As are Baltasar, Gabriel, and Zion, since we'll be standing on your side during the ceremony, Butch. "

I narrowed my eyes. "You seem like the odd man out in that line-up, Simon, I'm not gonna lie."

His lip curled in a self-satisfied smirk. "Oui, but the aesthetics of me in white while Wolfy is in black will be haute couture."

There it is.

"It's fine with me if you want to be in charge of dressing us up like little Barbies and Kens," I drawled, determined to remind the little—if not terrifying—shit that this wasn't The Simon Show. "But don't start getting ideas about the food. Felix from Sun-Mart shared his famous fried chicken recipe for the rehearsal dinner, and that's final."

Because Daddy wants the best fried chicken on the planet for our big day.

Simon rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, Xander, you are still welcome to sully your extremely expensive destination wedding with common street food. Be my guest."

Well, that was easy ? —

"What's next? Inviting another normie who knows where you live to a top-secret soirée full of unmasked superheroes and villains?" Simon continued, refusing to let my defiance go without a signature tongue lashing. "Let's also invite the mass hysteria a single leaked photo of our four, tendril-wielding aliens and hybrid-aliens could cause?—"

"Five."

We all snapped our attention to the man on the tailoring platform, who had not only swapped out his ill-fitting corset vest for a tee shirt but had transformed into one of my favorite things on Earth.

Blade Runner Butch .

"Pardon?" Simon sputtered, his usual haughty indignance flavored with a satisfying hint of uncertainty.

Get him, baby.

Butch maintained his hot-as-fuck Blue Steel stare, his voice calm. "I invited Micah Salah to the wedding, and that includes a plus one."

OooOOOooo…

I didn't even need popcorn to accompany this piping hot tea. Micah was one of Zion's younger brothers and had disappeared a couple months ago to—and I quote—"get space married."

To a certain Stellarian in superhero clothing.

Not just any Stellarian, either. A grumpy, deadly Stellarian named Ziggy Andromeda, who'd apparently been working undercover on Earth to capture an even grumpier, more psychotic alien who we'd recently discovered was his deadbeat dad.

Simon's dad too.

And the bonded inventus of our twin baby bros.

This family's drama is better than a telenovela, I swear.

Not one to miss an opportunity to roast one of my siblings, I gleefully joined the fray. "Good idea, sweetheart! Having Ziggy there will be fun, assuming no one pisses him off again…" I smirked as my brother huffed. "I'm serious, Wolfy. Two black eyes was not the flex you thought it was, and I would hate to leave you out of the wedding photos…"

Even if I would do unspeakable things for that image to be my iPhone wallpaper .

"Fine," our Mafia Queen snipped as he began furiously texting someone. "I suppose now I have to prepare for the inevitable train wreck that will be Ziggy and Theo on the same tropical island."

Well that was… not what I was expecting.

Simon willingly submitting to someone else's plan was the surprise of the century. Even more shocking was that he did so with The Hand of Death at his back. Not surprising in the least, however, was that Wolfy simply went along with whatever his inventus wanted.

He's such a dick-whipped little bitch.

Not that I'm one to talk…

As it often did, my gaze drifted to my better, beefier half, and while it was slightly disappointing to find Blade Runner Butch had left the building, the sweet smile I received in return made my sad, rusty heart rattle to life.

Hey, future husband.

"Ready to go, baby?" I was unable to stop my grin from growing when he nodded eagerly. "Let's swing by the Tick Tock Diner on our way home for some fried chicken and extra hot sauce."

For… reasons.

To my immense pleasure, Butch's gaze turned glassy as he almost stumbled off the platform to join me. "Yes, Daddy."

Good boy.

Wolfy snorted but otherwise kept his opinions to himself. Simon barely glanced up from his phone as I steered my subby superhero past Mom and Dad and out the door .

Smell ya later, losers.

"Well, well, well—there are the happy bachelors now!"

Sigh.

"Hi, Zion," Butch cheerfully replied—too cheerfully.

Probably because he still feels bad for power-probing Zion's kid.

I wouldn't.

Daisy is clearly the next Mafia Queen .

Luckily for Butch, Zion Salah wasn't one to hold a grudge, as evidenced by the inexplicable survival of both his shitty parents.

That's certainly not how we do things in my family.

"Hey, guys." Balty was awkwardly shifting on his feet while nervously eyeing the door leading to the room we'd just emerged from. "How'd the fitting… thing go?"

How ‘bout I throw one more chaos grenade on our way out?

"Fairly painless." I briefly caught Zion's eye before looking at my younger brother with complete innocence. "Fran?ois is just putting the finishing touches on your skirt now."

"W-what?" Baby Hulk stammered, turning redder than Butch did when I teased him.

And nowhere near as cute.

I shrugged. "Yeah, I dunno. Whatever he's got going for you looks pretty floofy… like a ballerina's skirt or something."

Balty made a strangled sound before Zion herded him toward the fitting room, giving me a discreet fist bump along the way .

I had no idea what that was about and had less than zero interest in finding out. After all, I had more important things to think about—even more urgent than my impending matrimony.

A bucket of hot sauce.

An even hotter fiancé.

And how long it will be until I've guzzled my fill of both.