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redcoralpot · 10 months

Note

Stu!! I love seeing ppl love him. Would I be able to request some roleswap ish au, where reader is a slasher, and stu is the "final girl". He gets caught ofc, and reader unmasks, smut ensues (maybe stu had a crush or smth, maybe dubcon if u accept it).

Unrelated: Loved seeing Matthew lillard as william Afton, he did so good.

Ruined Man - Stu Macher X M!Reader

Summary: Stu Macher was a classic rich boy; arrogant, eccentric, and an asshole. He was known for playing cruel pranks on others, and earlier in the weak, he pranked Sidney by scaring her as the infamous Ghostface Killer. Maybe, just maybe, he deserved a taste of his own medicine. Trick or treat, right?

Warnings: NSFW, non-fatal violence, weapons.

Word Count: 2K

A/N: I don't write anything with SA, CNC, or dub-con; Stu plainly consents to the activities described. He has implied feelings for the Reader, and other implied activities as well... but I'll let you discover that part.

Crickets chirped in the grass, the crescent moon high in the sky. Finally, the noise from the Macher’s Halloween party had died down, and most people had left already, causing a blanket of peace to float down on the street. Any stragglers were drunkenly slumped against the curb, blacked out or calling for a sober ride. Your mask stuck out from the shadows, exaggerated and white, as you watched the property slowly become empty. Well, empty except for the host, of course. Stu Macher.

You could see him through one of the many windows, lounging on the first floor’s living room couch, still moving. Your fingers fumbled against the phone’s dial– god, how do killers run in this shit– pulling the black fabric further up your arm to position the voice changer closer to your mouth. Now, you patiently waited for the other man to pick up, seeing him jolt out of his position. Stu rubbed his eyes, and stumbled to the kitchen.

“Yo?”

Your lips curled into a nasty sneer, “Do you like scary movies, Stu?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“What’s your favorite?”

“Don’t make me choose, you know I’ve watched too many good ones!”

…

Huh? There was no way he knew your identity already. You’ll give him credit, he’s smart, but most definitely not that smart. Stu always visits the rental store Randy works at, and he always rented horror movies with Sidney’s boyfriend, Billy Loomis; that much you knew. He could not have seen you through the window before he ran into the kitchen, and even if he managed to, your mask was still securely strapped on.

“You still there? I haven’t dropped off Hellraiser yet, you could've just asked if you wanna watch it again.”

You hung up, breath quickening. Stu wasn’t scared, even though you were using the same voice changer as the loose, prank-calling murderer running around the streets of Woodsboro. You dumped the phone on the ground, hidden behind a bush. If he wasn’t scared by a little sound-a-like, that was fine, you came prepared. Stu’s garage door had been left open, and you jogged over. Frankly, it didn’t matter how much the rich boy had it coming, you were never doing this again. The costume’s long fringes caught on your feet, almost causing you to trip as you avoided the windows; less silent than you had hoped. Your shoes shuffled against the concrete, and you jiggled the handle of the only door, praying it would open. It creaked as you slipped inside, your shoes surely creasing when you tiptoed into the living room. From behind the couch, you could see that Stu was still in his kitchen, but he was looking around.

He grinned, cupping his hands around his mouth, “Nobody else’s here, Billy. You don’t gotta sneak into my house, you know that!”

Sighing, you watch him leave the room to wander about the hallways, stopping by the door you had snuck through– and forgot to close. He squinted, looking at the mistake, and back at the living room. Your cheeks burned, adrenaline starting to pump in your veins as he took a few steps closer.

“C’mon, you wanna have a movie marathon? It’s kinda late for that, but whatever. I have plenty of snacks left from the party, and a whole lot more puke!”

Stu turned away at the last second, choosing instead to sprint down into the bathroom. You could hear a muffled, “Gotcha… nope,” over rustling cloth as you crawled on your hands and knees into the kitchen. The freezing tile shocked any distraction from your system, and you stood up, settling into the darkest part of the kitchen. One of your hands held a dull knife, while the other held the little voice changer machine. However, your position left you without visuals on your victim. You were tempted to pull down your hood, but that would be too reckless, especially since he seemed to think you were his dearest friend. Oh, man, he didn’t know what was coming.

“Y’know I love pranks, man, but time’s up,” He probed, leaning on the marbled island, just out of reach.

Stu visibly flinched as he turned around and found you staring at him, the mask’s empty eyes giving nothing away. It took him but a second to recover, yet, and a smile accompanied his wild eyes, “Billy!”

You tilted your head, slowly raising your left hand, “Incorrect.”

He didn’t have time to respond; you lunged. You gripped his collar in a fist and slammed him into the countertop– he winced. Stu tried pushing you back, but it was in vain, your knife already threatening to pierce his throat.

Your full weight was on the man, and he raised his hands in defeat. Stu’s chest rose and fell in hefty patterns; you snickered at his obedience. His head slumped back as you released his shirt, in favor of wrenching your mask off to face him.

“Surprise, Macher.”

Stu chuckled, chewing on his bottom lip, “Didn’t know you were in on it too.”

“In on what– aren’t you scared?” You growled, pressing the knife into the flesh of his neck, but not enough to draw blood.

“Dunno,” his back arched, causing a drop of blood to drip down his shirt, “I think you could’ve done better!”

You flipped him over, slicing a fringe off of your costume to tie his hands with. Your hips were in between his thighs, leaving him trapped, and the robe itself fell on the floor beside its mask. Stu giggled, hoisting up his torso with his elbows.

“It’s payback; you could use some.”

He winced as you pulled his hair, “Hngh, it was Billy’s idea.”

“Don’t act innocent.”

“And what’re you gonna do about it, tough guy?”

You rasped, moving to step back, “Nothing you don’t want; I think the prank’s done enough.”

Stu seemed to freeze, albeit briefly, but he wrapped his ankles around your hips– preventing you from running. Your hands brushed against them, tense, as his shoulders shook.

“I wanna.” A smile laced his tone.

“You sure?”

“I’m pose-itive,” he joked, “get it?”

You wrenched his mouth open, pressing down on his tongue with your thumb, “Shut it.”

He nodded, trying his best to close his lips around your finger. Your other hand trailed down his side, taking its sweet time, before landing on his waist. Saliva still connected your fingers to his mouth as you removed them, all in favor of lifting his hips. Underneath, you unzipped his jeans, taking extra care to avoid giving any friction. When you stepped back to slide them off of Stu, he whined, his hips still chasing your touch. His jeans were thrown aside, and you slid back in your place. You knew he could feel your breath on his neck.

Your crotch ground against his ass, a shiver spreading across his spine. Stu was audibly panting; his head was hanging low and he pushed his hips to meet your thrusts. You hummed, choosing to drag the knife in soft strokes down his back, the cool metal only just piercing his skin. Red oozed in thick droplets out of the wounds, some getting big enough to trickle down his back. The pain seemed to follow it down, as Stu made quite the pathetic noise.

“We’ve barely even gotten started, Macher, and you’re this desperate already?” You teased.

“Mm, show me what ‘cha got!”

You chuckle and suck a bruise onto the back of his neck. From that position, you could hear a groan rumble in his throat, but it wasn’t strong enough to escape. Hm, you could change that. You sunk the edge of your teeth into a different spot, holding on for a second before soothing the bite with your tongue. If the bruise didn’t make what happened obvious, well, this would. Stu would just have to deal with it. Though, you doubt he’d mind.

The knife clattered onto the marble counter after you dropped it, Stu’s thighs twitching, “Where’s the lube?”

Stu didn’t answer, but only whined.

“Use your words, pretty boy.”

His voice shook, trying to form words past used lips, “Bathroom.”

“Louder, I didn’t hear you the first time.”

Stu wiggled against your weight, “C’mon, man– f-fuck, it’s in the bathroom, please!”

You tutted, a cruel grin on your face, “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You didn’t need directions, and as soon as you were out of his view, you practically ran there. Hell, you weren’t gonna miss out on this chance, were you? Stu, the eccentric boy that played downright evil pranks on anybody that breathed around him, reduced to a perverted degenerate. Perhaps he was already like that, and you wouldn’t be surprised.

The lube was in a small, portable bottle that was half empty when you found it. Back in the kitchen, you poured the majority of what was left in your palm and fingers. Using just two, for the moment, you spread it over his hole; a finger may have dipped in every once and a while, in the process.

“I wanna, I wanna do it already,” Stu shuddered, his fidgeting acting up again.

A finger eased its way inside, a little too easily, much to your surprise, “Not yet.”

“I really wanna.” Another, just as simply.

“That’s too bad;” you mused, “have you been fingering yourself?”

He bit down on his bottom lip, the taste of iron filling his mouth, “Uhuh, uhuh.”

“To what?”

“Y-you, and me.”

You spread the final bit over your dick, before pressing your hand into the sides of his neck, “You little pervert. Bet you loved getting a glimpse of me in the locker room, yeah?”

“Yeah, yes, yes– oh, shit.” Stu’s little tangent was interrupted by you slamming inside; the sting melted in with pleasure as you brushed his prostate.

Only for a moment did you stop to let him adjust, before pulling out and thrusting again. You found a rhythm, and the counter rubbed against his cock as you continued, smearing precum over the wood. His hands, still bound, scrabbled for anything to hold onto, but in vain. His nails just slid off of the smooth stone, his drool making it even slippier. Stu squeezed his eyes shut, feeling a knot grow in his gut.

He clenched around you, causing you to grunt, “‘M gonna cum, please let me cum, please, please… ah!”

“We’re not done yet,” you hissed, firmly slapping his thigh.

“I can’t hold it, man, I really can’t,” he sobbed out, eyelashes wet from unreleased tears.

A sharp pain on his shoulder burned through any restraint the guy had, the knot unraveling as quickly as it had formed. Stu thrashed, the fringe snapping, and his vision whited out. His brain was all fuzzy; the only thing he could focus on was gripping the edge of the counter. Stu’s face was smushed against the counter, crimson mixing with the white surface. He shivered, eyes heavy, feeling a little floaty when a thick liquid dripped down his thighs. You pulled out of him, rubbing his waist as you did so.

“Good job, Macher. That was one hell of a show you put on, ” you sighed.

“Hhn.”

His body was limp as you turned him over, using the oven towel to start to clean him up, “How’re you feeling?”

Stu finally opened his eyes, using all of his strength to grin up at you, “Dude… that was like, awesome.”

“Pfft, you sound out of it.”

“Eh, what makes you say that? I want a big glass of water!”

You cackled, leaving his side to shuffle through a cabinet full of fancy cups, finally choosing a sturdy looking mug. He grabbed it as soon as it was in arms reach, taking huge gulps from it, like he had been starved. Or, more so dying of thirst.

When he finished, you softly said, “Do you need help getting into bed?”

Stu shrugged, so you took that as a yes. You heaved him over your shoulder, supporting him up the stairs as he giggled the whole way. As you tucked him in, you swore you could hear something from down in the kitchen.

A phone’s ring.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 22 days

Text

The Dollhouse 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as fear, coercion, violence, noncon/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Five girls move into a shared residence for the upcoming school year but not all is as it seems.

Characters: Jonathan Pine, Captain Syverson, Steve Abnesti, Lloyd Hansen, and Peter Parker

This fic features five named readers; Ann, Lulu, Polly, Barbie, and Molly. This chapter features Ann and Lulu. Please note that characters may switch but will maintain second-person POV.

Note: It's thirstday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all until you can’t stand it. Take care. 💖

You’ve been waiting all summer to come back. Campus is like paradise to you. Sure, it’s fun to party but there’s also all the clubs and the general sense of community. You always manage to find your way right into the heart of it all.

You’re a bit disappointed to not be living on campus itself but you found an alternative not too far away, and in a nice neighbourhood too. Not to mention, your best friend ever, Polly, will be living with you!

The uber pulls up to the front of the idyllic building and your cheeks bloom with excitement. You spent the extra money to haul all your bags from the station, and it was worth it. You couldn’t have dragged it all that way, even on the bus.

The driver helps you get everything onto the curb. You thank him and tip him on the app. He looks at you with that fogginess that a lot of guys get. He asks if you need anything else and you assure him you’re just fine. He seems almost reluctant to go. His spindly fingers twiddle at his side as he slinks around the hood.

You stand with your bags and take out your phone. Polly said she was on her way. You don’t want to go in without her. You send her a message asking how close she is.

“Hey, what’re ya standing in the middle of the sidewalk for, bitch?”

You wince as you spin to face the grizzly snarl. You harrumph and scowl at Polly as she cackles. It’s funny to think she could do such a scary voice considering she always looks so dainty and perfect. Even then, she wears a blouse and skirt, with a scarf that reminds you of an Audrey classic. Never a stitch out of place with her.

“You sure are dressed for moving day,” you remark dryly.

“Mm, don’t talk to me Barbie Doll,” she tosses the derisive nickname at you, “I see you have on the classic Mattel shade today.”

You pout your pinkened lips at her and roll your eyes, “whatever! Pol! We’re gonna be roommates!”

You squeal together and she lifts her bag over the lip of the pavement, “hell yeah.”

You giggle and look up at the house. You went there once before for the walkthrough and it’s even more perfect than you remember. You bend to take your smallest bag and Polly shakes her head.

“Really? You brought all that? I hope you don’t think I’m gonna be your personal camel and carry it.”

“Don’t be such a downer,” you stick your tongue out.

“Excuse me,” a deep timbre rolls over as the front gate squeaks. You and Polly share a startled look then turn to the large blond man as he steps through. That isn’t Jonathan... “Are you girls here for moving day?”

“Uhhhhh,” you drone out and once more glance at your BFF, “we are.”

“Oh, let me explain, Jonathan can’t make it. He has an emergency at another property. He left your keys with me to deliver,” he stirs around in the pocket of his blazers as he stands across the pavement.

He's taller than the building manager you met in July, broader too. He’s bigger in every way and just as blond. He wears a pair of square glasses and only a plain tee under his suit jacket. He fishes out two key rings and shakes them.

“Here we are,” he grins. He steps forward and offers you one of the fobs. “Front door is a censor. All new system.” He gives Polly the other dongle. “By the way, I’m Steve. I help Jonathan with security. I’ll be popping in for routine measures but I shouldn’t bother you too much.”

“Oh thanks. I’m Barbie, this is Polly,” you squeeze the fob and smile at the grand facade of the building. “Awesome.”

Polly toys with her keyring and stays quiet. She’s usually a riot but around men, you’ve noticed she gets a bit shy. You don’t blame her. Steve is a big guy and his gaze doesn’t falter for a single second.

“Well, that’s great,” you continue, “good to be safe.”

“Yeah, especially with a house full of girls. You never know,” he says.

You blink at the subtlety of his suggestion. Obviously, there’s always those who will have the worst intentions but you try not to think of that. Besides, you’ve been around the block and it all looks very ordinary to you.

“Anyway, let me show you inside. You’ve already got a roommate waiting on your girls,” he announces and claps his hands. “Can I help you with some of this?”

He nods to your bags and you shimmy as you laugh at yourself, “oh, yeah, aha. I wanted to make sure I had everything.”

“No problem, think I can handle it,” he bends and picks up your two largest bags. He doesn’t struggle at all. You gather up the three smaller ones and Polly rolls her suitcase with her.

He stands inside the gate as he waits for you to enter. You lead the way up the walk as Polly clicks behind you. You climb the steps and strut across the porch.

“Go on in,” Steve calls from behind.

You do as he says and set your bags to the side of the entryway. You pause to take off your shoes as you see another pair on the mat. A pair of round-toed flats with bows.

“You two are upstairs,” Steve says, “at the top, rooms at the end of the hall. Do you want me to bring your bags up?”

“Oh, no, you can leave them at the door,” you face him again. “This is so lovely. Will you let Jonathan know we got here or should I call him?”

“I can take care of it,” he says. “I’ll be headed to him once the rest of you show up. My partner’s out of town so we’re short right now.”

“Your partner?”

“Like I said, security.”

“Ah, right, ha,” you rock your shoulders and he puts your bags down lightly.

“Sure you don’t want some help,” he peers upstairs.

“Really, we’re all good, right Polly?”

“Mhmm,” she nods and looks past him.

“Right, I’ll be outside. There's three more coming.” He nods and turns to go.

You wait until he’s out the door to proceed upstairs. As you do, Polly sighs.

“He was nice,” you say.

“I guess,” she agrees dully.

“He’s just doing his job.”

“I know, it’s just, boys, guys, or whatever, standing next to you with them is like being invisible sometimes,” she mutters. “Not your fault but... yeah.”

“Whatever. He’s a bit old for me,” you scoff as you get to the second-floor hall. You forgot how wide it was. Probably a good thing knowing it will be a full house.

As you come to the end of the hall, a door opens and you see a single eye peer out. You stop short and Polly hits your back. The girl shifts the door and sticks her head out.

“Uh, hi,” she squeaks, “I’m Lulu.”

“Hey, uh, we’re... Barbie,” you point to yourself, “and Polly.”

Polly leans around to wave with her free hands, “hi, Lulu.”

Lulu lets the door go and steps out, “it’s been so quiet around here. I got here last week. It’s so nice to have people around.”

“Oh, really?” You wonder.

“I’m on exchange so... yeah, had to fly in,” she smiles sheepishly. “Anyway, sorry to bug you. Just wanted to say hi.”

“You’re not bugging us at all! We were just chatting with Steve--”

“Steve?” She frowns, “oh, the big bald guy? That’s Sy.”

You frown and look at Polly, “no, Steve. Blond hair. Big.” You make yourself wide as you say the last word.

“Ohhhh, sorry, I haven’t been out of my room. I’ve been so nervous,” she giggles and it sounds like a tinkling bell.

“He’s the security guy or something,” Polly says.

“Right,” Lulu’s lips tremble, “cool. Um, anyway, if you need me to show you around...”

“Um, sure. We’ll drop out things off then I want to have a look at the kitchen. I was thinking of having some drinks once the rest got here. Maybe we can do a housewarming,” you chirp.

“Oh, that sounds fun,” Lulu laughs again and it seems to clog her throat. She clears it and blinks, “sorry. Nervous.”

You smile. You like meeting new people and the most exciting part for you, is all the different personalities coming together. And there’s still three more girls on the way.

New things are always scary. For you, even the familiar is frightening. Sometimes what you know is the most dangerous. Like the bullies you went to school with for years.

Transferring to a new college is enough stress on its own but moving to a whole new city, that’s another beast on its own. Just like a dragon on its hoard. You clutch your worn novel to your chest as you walk down the street, your bag bouncing on the cracks in the sidewalk.

You should’ve written this down. You think you’re going in the right direction. After the greyhound, you counter the city transit into the core and from there, you’ve been walking in circles. Finally, you recognise a street name and stop to turn on your data and spend a few MBs on confirming your destination. Just at the end. Phew.

That gate was in the photos, those hedges too. Wow, it looks so much better IRL. You slow down in disbelief as you stare up at the siding. This can’t be. For the price you’re paying, you have to have taken a wrong turn.

“Moving in?” A chipper voice asks as a shadow skews over the pavement next to yours.

You blanch and look over at a boy about your age with reddish brown hair and warm amber eyes. He grins as you lower your chin then turn back to the house, “uh, yeah?”

“Me too,” he says. “Peter. It’s a pretty cool building, huh? My aunt knows the owner.”

“Mr. Pine,” you murmur.

“I call him Jonathan but, yeah,” he chuckles. “You’re a Thrones fan?”

You furrow your brow and glance over again. Then you check the book in your hand.

“I’ve only read the books,” you say.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Molly,” you answer and sniff. You stare up at the house as it sinks in. You’ll be sharing a space with him. Not only him, but four others.

“Should we go in together?” He offers.

“Sure, why not,” you clutch your phone against the book and drag your bag forward. “Um, Mr. Pine said we should call--”

“Yeah, that’s whatever. Like I said, I know him,” he insists as he goes ahead of you and unlatches the gate. “Come on.”

You come forward as he hitches up his duffle bag. Your suitcase rattles over the threshold as another figure appears from the porch, “Pete, didn’t say you were bringing your girlfriend.”

A large blond man, built like a warrior in a fantasy novel, descends the steps, “don’t think the roommates will be very happy about that.” “Whatever, Steve. She’s one of them. We just met.”

“Ah, another one,” the man says, “great, just one more then.” The man digs in his pocket, “Jonathan left the keys.” He takes out two fobs and doles them out between you and Peter, “I’m Steve. Security.” He explains.

“Oh, uh, nice to meet you,” you eke out.

“This is Molly,” Peter intones and you give a bashful look. Oops, you forgot that.

“Right, you two are on the first floor,” Steve says, “you wanna show her around, Pete?”

Peter clucks, “Peter,” he corrects, “Steven.”

The large man chortles and nods at you, “let me know if he gives you any trouble. It is my job to deal with the rabble.”

You smile tightly and Peter waves off the other man, “come on. I’m sure you don’t wanna stand out in the sun with this lump head.”

You show your teeth apologetically before you follow Peter. He strides down the walk and up the steps. You’re a few feet behind him.

As you enter the house, you hear voices. They hush and you listen for them as they seem to do the same. Peter stands on the mat as you unlace your sneakers.

“Hello?” He calls out, “anybody here?”

There’s some noise before footsteps come from somewhere deep in the house. You look up to the top of the stairs as a figure appears above. The girl bounds down as two others loom behind her.

“Helloooooo!” She trills, “I’m Barbie!”

“Barbie,” Peter says, “hey. I love your lipstick.”

“It’s gloss, actually, honey,” she winks, “you two are moving in? You’re friends too?”

“Oh, uh no,” you shake your head, “we just...”

“Good timing,” Peter says, “Peter, Molly.” He points in tandem with his introductions.

“So cute, Molly, well up there is Polly. That rhymes! Polly and Molly, and that’s Lulu,” she gestures up behind her as the girls wave, “think there’s only one room left.”

“What are we thinking?” Peter asks. “Party tonight? Ice breakers?”

“Something like that. Drinks?” Barbie suggests.

“You’re my kinda girl, Barbs.”

“Barbie, hon,” she chides with a wag of her finger, “anywho, I’ll let you two get cozy while we wait on the last one.”

“I hope it’s a dude,” Peter mutters as he turns away.

You smile at Barbie then follow him. You’re not sure where your room is but he seems to know exactly where he’s going. You wouldn’t mind a door to hide behind.

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mindblownie2 · 8 months

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I think there's definitely something to Dankovsky not being entirely what you'd expect from a character like him, or not what he maybe would like to appear as - that is, him not really being that cold, calculating, purely "logic"-driven archetype at all; that he is actually so emotional and impulsive. I think it's also interesting how he can actually believe in the supernatural - there's the dialogue option in marble nest letting you say you believe in God, but especially in classic I think that's canonical, he talks about the soul, invokes concepts like providence or fate in ways that don't seem entirely just as figure of speech, he can very quickly turn on a dime and believe in Clara's healing powers or Artemy's traditional medicine or the Polyhedron's magical properties once he sees what he deems sufficient evidence, and he also has that line about "knowing there are things beyond our mundane perception". and you know what, I don't even think that's so contradictory. first of all, there are nowadays and there especially have been in the past, with less secular societies, plenty of scientists who also held some kind of religious beliefs. I think it's to a certain degree reconcilable when it's applied to different spheres of life - some things are relegated to spirituality, but where there are cold hard facts, you follow these; it doesn't inherently make you a hypocrite. also in the game, the thing he takes most umbrage with is not spirituality, but superstition - the kind of unreasonable and dogmatically held beliefs that lead people to, oh I dunno, say, burning innocent women for witchcraft instead of listening to experts? which you know I think is kinda fair actually? like I keep harping on about that but fellas I'd be mad too. anyway my point is, depicting him as a reddit atheist is in my opinion definitely a mischaracterisation.

however I was actually gonna talk about the whole "defeating death" thing because it's so interesting to me, people often point out how fantastical, almost mystical it sounds, and he sometimes strikes that tone - "could death be only a whim of the will that has shaped this world" is a fascinating line to me because it essentially implies that the way to attain immortality is to tell god to fuck off, but then at the same time. he is initially skeptical about Simon's immortality, though interested in the claims of his longevity and extraordinary immunity to disease; he says he wants to study tissue samples from Simon's body, which seems to me like looking for a material, physiological mechanism that could be potentially found in or applied to other people (and eventually, out of desperation or fascination or both, he can get into the Kains' whole soul transference/preservation thing, but it doesn't strike me as what he was really looking for before the game. as my friend always says, if immortality of the soul was all he wanted, he'd become a priest instead of a medical researcher). he says in haruspex route that his lab works on medicine against aging; he also notes iirc that death will never not be a thing completely because people will still be killing each other. there is that thing with the reanimated lady, which always struck me as a little off in some ways, but mainly - at the start of the game, he hasn't succeeded in his goal yet, so whatever happened there, he either was unable to reproduce it, or it wasn't what he was looking for either - I mean, the fact that you can resuscitate a person under certain conditions is a great achievement, but doesn't remove the fact that people die, same as, as he says, "doctors defeat death on singular occasions" - you can manage to rescue a person from injury or disease, but it's only postponing the inevitable, so what if it wasn't inevitable anymore? the goal, I think, is so that people don't just die of old age. and the thing about that is - is that really so irrational? I mean especially if you think about the setting, if you think about the incredible, sheer rapid change of the time period from the industrial revolution to mid-20th century, that pathologic sits somewhere in the middle of, is that not something that would appear to people as both fantastical but also within grasp, as taking the witnessed progress to its furthest conclusion? same as people imagined - and correctly so - that the next step from inventing the airplane was inventing a flying machine that will go to the moon, would they not also imagine, seeing the progresses of medicine and the extending average lifespan, that we will exponentially live longer and longer? like we know it's not that simple, and Daniil's goal is meant to be unrealistic, but I don't think it's "unscientific" in the sense that it's based on magical thinking. people don't really shoot for immortality anymore but longevity research is very much a thing and I think that's just essentially what he was doing.

on the other hand, it's funny to me to imagine that him sometimes framing his work in those less-than scientific terms might've been partly what made him unpopular; I think there's more to it, especially regarding his conflict with the authorities I think it's more about him representing "revolutionary" ideals, but with his peers? even what Isidor mentions in his letter, that Daniil's detractors claimed his theories were not scientifically viable - the accusation not being that he's a heretic or a necromancer or playing god, but that he's being unreasonable; and well, if the "groundbreaking theory of human mortality" that he claims to have formulated is in fact "people die because they just let it happen, don't let god or laws of nature dictate what happens to you", well. I can see that.

#i'm kinda rambling idk just saw some posts that made me think of this #also i love how like. artemy and clara have more explicitly 'dual' natures but daniil's character is just made of contradictions.#which makes him so interesting to rotate in my head endlessly.#the goblin talks #pathologic #daniil dankovsky

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toxicanonymity · 8 months

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steady as she goes.

3.5k, Clement Mansell x f!reader | spotify playlist CHARACTER BACKGROUND: He does a lot of crimes but car theft is the only thing referenced. He loves Jack White 🎶. He's sexy and has swagger. Hot clips with audio 🥵 🥵 SUMMARY: He takes you out on his idea of a date. WARNINGS: I8+, unsafe p in v (car), creampie. Praise. Mild hybristophilia (craving that criminal cock). Canon-typical destruction of property. Reader can straddle him. Jack (White) gets cucked (by Clem's vocals). ONE SHOT. A/N: Dedicated to @milla-frenchy: happy 500 followers! 🎉 well-deserved (masterlist). I'm so glad we share an interest in this man. And THANK YOU, gifmakers!! Always inspired by gifs from @boydholbrook-fan, @ilovewhiteroses, and more. Co-written with my partner, "Jordi" 🖤.

A car cruises down your street blasting music, but you don't think it's Clement. It's too early. The sun is just starting to set, and you're fresh out of the shower. It's still an hour before he’s supposed to pick you up. But sure enough, the loud rock music gets close enough to make out the White Stripes. You look out the window, and his classic car is rolling into your driveway with the top down. Shoot. You're not ready. But goddamn, he looks good. Too good to worry much about the time.

You grab the closest item of clothing - a black slip dress – and throw a silk robe on over it. As you rush down the stairs, the car door opens outside. You wait a minute for him to ring the doorbell, but he doesn't. You stick your head outside and he's reclining with his butt against the passenger door and his arms crossed. You slip on a pair of shoes and go out to the driveway.

********************************

This man is wild. You can tell already, and you met him just last night.

He came into your bar. You took his order and he said, “Whatever you’re drinkin’.” You were only drinking coke with grenadine, but to your surprise, he nodded without hesitation. You made the drink and watched him take his first sip. “Man, this shit ain't bad,” he said. He had big energy, and his presence really commanded the room despite how casual and carefree he acted. He put the Raconteurs on the jukebox.

Throughout the night, you felt his eyes on you and had a few tense moments. His hand grazed your hip as you passed each other. When you came to give him a refill, he introduced himself before going to play pool. At one point, when he was leaning forward to line up his shot, you noticed a gun sticking out of the back of his pants. You discreetly warned him that the manager would kick him out if she saw it.

“Keepin’ me outta trouble. That sure is nice of ya, sugar.”

You smile shyly. “Just hide it,” you tell him

“Why don’tcha come on out and watch me put it away?.”

His charm was irresistible.

You quickly found yourself out in the parking lot, pressed up against his car with his nose dragging up your neck. “Mmm,” he hummed into your skin. “Not every day a lady sees my gun.” You felt something against your hip, looked down, and were startled to see him holding the gun. “It's okay baby,” he reassured you, then opened the passenger door to the car. “Wanna touch it?”

“That's okay,” you shook your head, still flustered. “It looks nice though.”

“Yeah? How ‘bout I let ya shoot it tomorrow?” he asked as he leaned over to open the glovebox.

“Really?” You asked, heart fluttering.

He acted like he was mentally debating it, then laid his weight into you against the car again. He rested his hands loosely on your sides. “Really,” he murmured, then leaned in for a slow kiss -- no tongue, but it felt pornographic nonetheless. “Pick you up at eight.”

Instead of going back inside, he got in his car and peeled off, blasting the White Stripes.

********************************

You take in the view of Clement leaning against his car in your driveway. He's wearing a dark, button-up shirt and a chain. His shapely arms stretch the material.

“You're really early,” you smile, almost breaking into a laugh. “Wanna come in while I finish getting ready?”

“I dunno about that,” he drops his hands to his sides, then stands upright and slowly steps forward. He looks you up and down and his voice becomes sultry as he gets closer. “Look ready to me.”

You assure him it'll only take fifteen minutes.

“I dunno if I can wait that long,” he murmurs as he comes within arm’s reach. He runs his hands down your sides, his expansive palms gliding over the silky robe.

You suppress a giggle. “You can wait fifteen minutes.”

“Course I can,” he murmurs, getting right up against you. He brings his mouth to your ear and lowers his pitch. “But I ain't gonna.” He grabs your ass. “Mmm.”

Your cheeks heat up. Has he noticed you're not wearing panties? “Look perfect,” he insists. He goes to open the passenger door. All the thoughts are gone from your brain.

You get in the car, no bra, no panties, no jacket. And somehow you feel completely comfortable.

Clement rests a broad, veiny hand on your thigh as he drives. His touch is light, and he occasionally takes his hand away to make a turn. When he passes the shooting range and keeps going, you ask, “I thought we were gonna shoot.”

“Oh we are, darlin'. You're gonna be my gorgeous gunslinger.” He smiles and turns up the music.

He drives to the outskirts of the city, pulls into an industrial area, and parks behind a big abandoned building. There's one flood light and it’s buzzing, casting a flickering white light on the gravel.

Clement parks and turns off the car, then gets out. He pulls a six pack out of the back seat. You get out and join him at the back fender.

He opens a bottle of PBR beer and takes a swig, then offers you your own bottle from the six pack.

“I'm good,” you decline.

“You sure?” He asks, holding the new bottle up. It's a Mexican Coke.

“Oh, wow,” your face lights up.

He opens the bottle with a wink and mentions, “didn't have cherry.”

Your heart flutters and your ears get hot as you accept the drink.

You sit on the back of his car talking and enjoying your drinks for a while. You shiver and he asks, “you alright?”

“Well, I'm not really dressed,” you laugh.

“Lucky for you, this car came with a jacket.” He hops off the trunk of the car and reaches behind the driver’s seat. When he returns a few moments later, he’s wearing a vintage brown leather jacket and holding a jacket for you.

“Looks about right, whatcha think?”

“Yeah.” You carefully step down off the car.

"Hold on,” he says and drapes the jacket over one arm. Then he steps in closer and nudges his fingers under your robe, hitting your bare shoulders and giving you goosebumps. He nudges the robe off, and it falls down to your elbows. You take it off. His eyes glue to your chest. You rub your arms. He holds out the jacket for you and you let him put it on.

He looks you up and down and gives a low whistle. “Perfect,” he nods. Then he steps closer and slips his hands inside your jacket, sliding them along your silk dress, then resting warmly on your lower back. He pulls you into him for a hug. Your erect nipples are poking him through the fabric. He lets out a low growl and pulls you in tighter. A warm, mostly soft bulge presses into you and makes you throb. He noses your hair and inhales as he grabs a handful of ass.

“Ready?” He asks in a low growl, and you've forgotten what he's referring to.

“Hm?” You respond.

“Ready to shoot?”

“Uh, yeah.” It doesn't seem like the safest environment, but there's something sexy about it, too. Your gut tells you he's dangerous, but you like it because he makes you feel safe at the same time. Like you’re not the one in danger.

“One second.” He grabs something from under the driver’s seat and puts it in his pocket. It looks vaguely flask shaped but taller. It barely fits. Lastly, he gets his gun out of the glovebox and puts it in the back of his pants.

—

Clement lights a cigarette, then you walk with him toward the floodlight. He puts his arm around you and offers you the cigarette, but you decline.

“Mmm good girl,” he murmurs with the cigarette still in his mouth. “I can tell ya ain't *too* good though.”

“Hey. I turned down beer and cigarettes. How do you know I'm not good?”

“Just got that vibe, baby.” He squeezes your arm. “And I sure am glad.”

There are multiple wide garage doors along the side of the building. You arrive at a door that's lifted up two or three feet. He holds it at the bottom and slides it up another foot or so. You still have to crouch down, and you hold your dress and the jacket against your bare thighs as you do it. It's spooky inside. Way too dark, and the space is derelict.

Once Clement's inside the building with you, he pulls a string hanging from the above. Then he drops his cigarette and the sparks bounce over a dirty concrete floor before he stops it out. Several bulbs buzz awake along the high ceiling, evenly spaced but far apart. The furthest one is against a half painted brick wall. There are crates stacked up along some of the walls and a few in the middle of the space. As you get closer, the light clearly illuminates a host of bullet holes in the back wall. There are also casings on the floor. On the wall to your right, some of the windows are busted out.

He takes his jacket off and lays it on a crate against the wall. He removes his gun from his pants and puts his leg arm around you as he shows it to you. It’s a silver gun with two swallows engraved on the handle. The birds have their wings spread and are facing each other.

“It was my daddy’s,” he says. “Only thing Mama saved for me.”

His face hardens and he turns and aims toward the back wall, triceps bulging under his shirt. He pulls the trigger. The gunshot is loud, but not as terrible as it could be. Debris bounces off the wall.

He hands you the gun, and. you accept it apprehensively.

“Are you sure this is okay? Here?” You have to wonder about people hearing the gunshots, and plus how you're destroying the wall.

“Don't you worry, darlin’. Place won't be around much longer anyway.”

“Okay.”

“Ever shot a gun?”

“Yeah but I'm rusty.”

“You'll be fine, darlin’. Go ahead.” You aim it hesitantly, half expecting the entire wall to crumble. Clement gets behind you and braces his hands on your arms. “Steady now,” he murmurs. His body is so close to yours, you get butterflies. Then he puts his arms around you. He doesn’t help you aim right away. He noses your temple and inhales your scent. “Mmm,” he hums. You relax your arms, holding the gun with your elbows bent. Then he plans a wet kiss on your neck. “Can’t help myself, sugar.” He kisses and sucks at your neck and you moan. He lightly bites you and you take your right hand off the gun to reach back for his head. You're gushing, and wonder if it's going to run down your legs at this rate.

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head. “Wanna see ya shoot first.”

You let out a disappointed sigh, and he rests his hands on your hips. He presses his pelvis forward, and a hard shape in his pants gives you a rush of need. He murmurs, “You feel that? Oooh.” His hands on your hips pull you back on his bulge. “You can have it when you're done.”

You compose yourself and aim the gun again. He slightly adjusts your arms and directs you toward an unblemished patch of paint straight ahead, just above the exposed brick. “Hit that, and we’re done.”

It only takes you one shot.

“Well hot damn!” He celebrates. “Look at you.” You hand the gun back to him. He slinks around you, hugs you from behind again, and murmurs “don't even need my help, do ya,” then kisses your neck again. “Let's go,” he says into your skin, then retrieves his jacket from the crate. As you're walking back toward the garage door, he turns around and starts walking backwards and whistling. You glance back and he's pulled a bottle of lighter fluid out of his pocket. He's trailing the liquid as he walks.

Your heart jumps to your throat. “What are you doing?”

“Ohh, don't worry, darlin’. It'll burn slow at first. Plenty’a time to get outta here.” He holds the garage door up for you to duck under. He flips the lid of the lighter fluid closed and crams it back in his pocket.

You back away as he takes out a matchbook. He lights a match and drops it into the lighter fluid. The fire races under the garage door and Clement’s eyes are beaming darkly in the glow of it. After a moment, he says, “Woo! Lets go, baby.” You're speechless, and very turned on. He takes your hand in his and charges toward the car. His stride is so long, you're nearly jogging to keep up.

“Hahaaa,” he laughs to himself as he gets in the car. He revs the engine and turns on the music. He pops a breath mint. He sings along with Blue Orchid, and his voice really isn't half bad.

“Where are we going?” You ask.

He looks at you fondly for a moment. “Love a woman who's up for adventure.” He puts his hand behind you to reverse.

As he drives by the building, you crane your neck to see. The fire is only a flickering glow through the busted out windows so far.

He turns down the music only slightly. “Stars are out tonight,” he observes. “Know a spot with a great view,” he offers as you exit the property.

“Ok,” you try to suppress a smile.

“Yeah!” He yells and peels off on the main road. You look up at the stars with the wind in your hair. Soon, he turns onto another dark road, somewhat winding, uphill.

He parks in a dark corner of an abandoned office park. It's littered with empty bottles and faded cans. The chainlink fence has half fallen down, and there are a couple of steel drums. Clement gets out of the car. With most of this part of town abandoned, the light pollution isn't very close. You're up on a hill now, too.

He takes the lighter fluid out of his pocket, squirts it in the barrel, and drops the plastic container in with it. Then he lights the matchbook on fire, drops it. And a blaze quickly grows in the barrel.

Then he gets back in the car and moves the seat back. He leans over and pulls you in for a heated kiss. Then he pulls back and murmurs, “Now get over here” as he takes off his jacket.

—-

Thankfully, the car is roomy and so are the seats. You take off your jacket and put the robe back on. The air is cool and crisp and feels fine. As you climb over to straddle Clement, he greets you with his hands on your thighs. He slides his palms all the way up the backs of your thighs and reaches your bare ass. Then he lifts your little slip dress and says “God *damn*,” at the sight of your bare cunt. “If I knew this. . .”

“You didn't let me get ready,” you lightly punch his chest with a hint of laughter, cheeks burning. He chuckles.

“Well good. Guess I'm *never* gonna let ya get ready.” Your heart flutters at the implied future. He sticks his left hand between your legs and cups your bare cunt. “Oh, baby.” You hover above his thighs while he leans back and unbuttons his pants, then unzips and pulls them down to expose a massive bulge in his white briefs. Your breath hitches at the sight.

He grabs your ass and pulls you forward so your crotch meets his cotton-clad bulge, and a shock of desire spreads through your body like fire. He thrusts upward and you moan at the contact of his warm, hard, package. He kisses you and uses his hands on your hips to rub you against him with your mouths connected. He breaks the kiss with a sigh and says, “Fuck, let's go.” He shoves his hand down his briefs and you allow him the space to take out his commanding cock and balls. Your mouth falls open.

“Not as huge as it looks,” he reassures you. “Gonna love every inch of it.” You nod. It's the girth that has you wide-eyed.

“Oh you're drippin’ on me, sugar.” He lets his thick manhood rest against his lower belly and pulls you in so your clit presses against his warm, smooth shaft and you’re aching to have him inside you. “Let’s feed this hungry pussy already.”

He holds his cock as you hover over it then begin to slowly lower yourself, getting closer to entry. You pause, and he runs his tip through your dripping folds and helps spread the slick down his shaft. Then he nestles his tip at your entrance and you twitch.

You begin to sink down on him, with his tip spreading you wide open. “Mmm,” you whine.

“Yeah, good girl. . . you can take it, baby.” It's every bit as big as it looks. You sink down, feeling taken apart in the best way, and he pulls you down flush.

Speared on his engorged cock, pleasure races through your chest and thighs, out to every inch of your body.

“You good?” He asks, chest heaving.

You rise up then sink back down.

“Attagirl,” he murmurs. “want ya to hear somethin’.” He reaches for the tape deck and changes the cassette. He presses play and it's Ball and Biscuit by the White Stripes.

“I know this one,” you smile. It's a sexy, languid alt blues song.

“Just wait for the next one,” he murmurs, looking at you with a raging lust in his eyes. His cock twitches inside you. He pulls your face into his again and lifts his hips, pushing farther into you. You've never felt so full. “Oh baby,” he breaks the kiss. “You feel so good.” His face is so handsome in the flickering fire light. His blue eyes look almost black. The slice of bare flesh in his eyebrow is too sexy. You run your hands through his hair and he groans at the light rake of your fingers against his scalp.

He lifts into you to the beat of the song. You begin to roll your hips in sync with him.

“Ohhh, yeah,” he breathes. Part of you wants him to lose control and ravish you, but this slow fuck is perfect for the intense stretch of your cunt around his cock.

You kiss and moan as your bodies move together, and the pleasure swells deep inside you, all around his cock. He nudges the silk robe off your shoulders and pulls down the straps of your dress. He groans at the sight of your breasts. He covers one with a hand and one with his mouth and his whole body is moving in time with the music. Your chest feels light. For the rest of the song, your body is wrapped around his, and his hips are slightly lifting you with each thrust.

The same song starts over, but it's not the same singer. The voice is smoother, deeper than Jack White’s. You pull your head back to listen. Clement studies your face, and it takes you a few seconds to recognize the vocals. It’s him, Clement.

“Holy shit,” you mutter, and his face comes to life. “Your voice is–God.” It's hard piecing sentences together impaled on him.

“You really like it,” he marvels.

“Of course I do, it's . . . perfect.”

His eyes soften with affection and he kisses you deeper, smoothly thrusting. He seems to take up all the space in your body.

The passion between you intensifies until it might burst. You need all of his body. You break away from a messy kiss to undo one of his shirt buttons, then another, and he unbuttons the rest in a hurry, and leans back against the chair as you spread his shirt. His chain sparkles in the firelight. It's hanging slightly above a chest tattoo that has the same birds as the gun. His tan skin glistens in the flickering glow.

You plant your hands on his hard pecs to ride him. The movement of his hips becomes more pronounced, and soon he's taken over. He thrusts upward sharply but smoothly and starts fucking you from the bottom, grunting and sighing. He pulls you down on him each time he thrusts. You moan, feeling like you're on the brink.

He pulls you close again and kisses you sloppily while your bodies move as one. “Clem, I'm gonna–”

“Mmm,” he cuts you off. He grunts and moans against your mouth. He's close too.

“I'm gonna fill ya up, baby. . .You want that?” he pants.

You nod.

“You want big Clement dribbling’ down your thighs?”

You nod urgently.

“That's my girl.” His massive hands move you on his cock, and you whimper as you begin to unravel. You clench around him, and he fucks you through it. Then he grunts as he thrusts upward “nngg—ohhhh, uugggh.” He pulses into you, warmth spreading in your core as you finish choking his cock.

You collapse into his arms and twitch with aftershocks as he cradles your head. After a minute, you're still impaled on him and he says your name. You pull your head back.

He looks back and forth between your eyes. A firetruck siren interrupts you. There are more sirens in the distance. Clement shifts his head to look past you, through the windshield, through the broken chain-link fence. His eyes illuminate warmly and he breaks into a small smile. You look behind yourself to see a building on fire in the distance. It's now half engulfed in flames.

What a view. This man is wild, and you can't get enough of him.

-------- -------- Thank you so much for reading!! If you want, you can subscribe to notifications on @toxicfics for all my fics. If you want to be on a Boyd Holbrook character tag list lmk but fyi I sometimes write dark. I have a dark fic rn called The Raid with Steve and Javi. Javi captures reader to make her get clean (off drugs) and she's very horny for them. Steve shows up in part 2, then he has his own PWP one shot, Javi isn't home. Series ongoing.

#clement mansell #clement mansell x reader #justified:city primeval #boyd holbrook #justified fanfiction #clement mansel #boyd holbrook smut #clement mansell smut #boyd holbrook fic #toxicanonymity ☠️#boyd bungalow ☠️#👱‍♂️

175 notes · View notes

babyyhoneyyyyy · 5 months

Text

「✦ 🚨 𝙋𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘿𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨 🍷 ✦」 - One Shot [h.s]

Storyline: "Everybody knows that I'm a good girl, officer". Where Lizzie, a devoted homemaker, meets Harry, a police officer in charge of interrogating her after a mysterious fire at her mansion that resulted in the death of her husband. Word count: 4k+ Smut: 🔞 *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

A call to 911 is usually more than enough in emergency situations.

Within minutes, the sound of sirens envelops you, with bright lights in red and blue hues cutting through the space as if they belong to it, receiving professional help from specialized teams while they try to talk to you and understand the situation. But after that, a sense of shock takes over, making you question whether what you're experiencing is part of a third-dimensional movie, distorting your own reality and transporting you to an alternate dimension for the most part.

That's exactly how Lizzie felt after flames consumed a large part of her property. She had sensed the smoke penetrating her nostrils, but what truly disturbed her was the buzz of screams. Cries from a man calling her name that quickly faded into whispers.

Lizzie found herself unable to react in any way other than trying to escape, seeking to reach him and see what was happening. However, the house seemed to be crumbling around her, and eventually, she fainted before reaching the door. That was the only clear memory she retained from that day; everything else started with a distant voice calling her, waking her up to find herself under a white ceiling and the scent of disinfectant.

Her stay in the hospital lasted just a day, more as a precautionary measure than for any injuries, of which, fortunately, she was free. She was in almost perfect condition, something that surprised even the doctors themselves.

But for that reason, when they confirmed her health, they chose to deliver the news to her without any euphemisms.

Contrary to her, her husband wasn't as fortunate. Apparently, the fire originated in his own studio, giving him no chance to escape and consuming him with the flames.

She had become a widow.

Her lawyer presented himself as her main support, assisting her in the necessary procedures to change her documents, update them, and allowing her to handle the move, the funeral, and subsequently, the burial.

Finally, when all that concluded, Lizzie was met with a sigh from her lawyer, who handed her a small envelope. She accepted it, while he observed her for a few more minutes before leaving his office.

A lump tightened Lizzie's throat; anxiety ran through her veins saturating all her senses as her hands trembled slightly when opening the envelope. And suddenly, everything around her seemed to freeze when she saw her name written alongside her original last name, followed by the phrase 'widow of Montecarlo,' and the text culminated with 'an entirety in inheritance'.

Lizzie closed her eyes for a moment. She knew the implications of that, beyond any property, money, jewelry, or cars, beyond any tangible thing she could conceive in her mind. This represented a new beginning, one she hadn't even imagined when she got married at the young age of eighteen.

She swallowed hard as she placed the envelope in the safe and let out a final sigh as she left the office, returning to her room. She walked through various rooms overflowing with classical décor.

Her heels echoed on the wooden floors, allowing their sound to reverberate through the rooms. The house was deserted; her lawyer had already left, and there was no trace of any household staff, as per her own request. She had decided to give them all a break, especially those who had also managed to escape unscathed from the fire in her previous property, which was already under renovation. She had determined that once it was ready, she would put it up for sale immediately. She couldn't bear the idea of walking through that house again.

The last door at the end of the hallway on the second floor housed her bedroom. It was a master bedroom that, at that moment, only contained her belongings still packed in suitcases, lacking any visible decoration.

However, as she approached, the sound of the doorbell echoed throughout the house.

Lizzie halted her steps and instinctively checked the delicate diamond watch on her wrist. It was six in the evening, and she hadn't scheduled any visits.

She hesitated for a moment, considering whether to go back to the first floor just to attend to an unexpected visitor, but the doorbell rang again, possibly indicating the urgency of the person. With a sigh, she turned her body and descended the wide stairs leading to the entrance and, finally, to her door.

The doorbell rang once more just as her hand reached for the handle, and she couldn't help but display a slightly annoyed expression when she opened the door, finding a tall man standing in front of her, causing her to pause for a moment.

The individual in question had a distinctive presence, with a young face and well-defined features, and although his hair seemed short, it revealed some curls. However, what unquestionably caught Lizzie's attention the most was his uniform.

It was an official attire consisting of a white shirt, a bulletproof vest with letters marked on the chest, and to add even more, a prominent badge was situated above it.

Lizzie felt her heart start to beat faster and chose not to say anything until the man interpreted it as a signal to introduce himself.

Unlike her furrowed brow, the young man immediately responded with a small smile, revealing dimples on his face. He glanced down for a moment, and Lizzie noticed he held a small notebook in his hands. Then, a husky voice spoke, "Miss Elizabeth?" Lizzie simply nodded. "I'm Harry Styles, the police officer in charge of your case".

The moment these words were spoken, Lizzie felt time speed up. She quickly blinked as she nodded and stepped aside at the door, allowing the man, whom she now identified as Harry, to step onto her property.

When they entered the main room together, she led the way and settled into one of the armchairs, gesturing for the young man to do the same before the door closed behind them. Lizzie avoided looking down to ensure her ring remained on her ring finger. Instead, she kept her gaze forward, watching Harry's subtle movements closely as he settled into the luxurious sofa and casually glanced around.

"Would you like some water?" she suddenly asked, catching him completely off guard. Although she didn't even know where that question came from, realizing that there wouldn't be another offer due to the absence of staff in the house, she thought it would be a kind gesture before they began.

"No, thank you". He finally responded after a moment's thought, grateful but with a half-smile, declining the offer. He had received strict instructions from his boss not to get distracted from his task. This was his first field mission, so he preferred not to mess it up.

"Cookies?"

Once again, his answer was negative, feeling increasingly embarrassed as he saw the woman's expression, who nodded gently and pouted slightly as she resigned herself back to the sofa.

Harry couldn't help but smile, clearing his throat before returning his gaze to the small notebook in his hands.

"Okay, I think we can start now".

The inquiries about that night varied in their formulation, from questions like "What were you doing when you heard the noise?" to "Were you nearby when you noticed the house was on fire?". Each one required an answer that related to and understood the situation.

Lizzie sensed that this was an interrogation aimed at connecting the loose ends, in case they found any evidence against her, so she made an effort to recall the events of that night accurately, inevitably reliving them.

At least an additional hour passed, she noted once again the clock on her wrist, confirming that more time had elapsed and that now only the dim artificial light of the living room illuminated the space. This incident was due to a malfunction, as she hadn't visited this house in many years and it was evident that there were still pending repairs. Despite this, she decided not to mention it to the policeman, preferring him to bring it up or simply ignore it. However, as the conversation became more casual, he didn't mention it.

The questions about the incident of that night gradually faded away, giving way to lighter questions, and it was only then that Lizzie decided to join him.

"Do you have a girl?" The question hung in the air as Harry observed her intently. Lizzie noticed how he ran his tongue over his lips, trying to alleviate the dryness of the conversation, ending with a soft bite on his lower lip before responding.

"No- Uh-" he paused, clearing his throat before continuing. "I've always been very focused on my work, thanks to my parents, so no, I really wouldn't have the time", he expressed, although a slight gesture of frustration crossed his lips before he continued speaking. "I mean, if I were truly interested in someone, I would find the time, but for now, there's no one". He concluded his explanation with a light sigh.

Harry awaited with some tension, anticipating a sarcastic response from Lizzie, considering the twists and turns he had taken to reach his explanation, however, instead of that, he saw her nod with a understanding expression on her face. A comforting relief washed over Harry in that moment, as if Lizzie's silent confirmation somehow validated his words and nerves.

Why did he suddenly feel so nervous?

"May I know the reason for the question?" he inquired after a few moments, waiting for a brief explanation of the young woman's interest, although in reality he showed more curiosity about her response. Harry watched as Lizzie's dark eyes settled on his face once again, subtly descending to his hands, still intertwined in his lap as he leaned slightly towards her. His heart began to beat quickly again as he followed her gaze.

"I don't see a ring on your finger". Lizzie responded with a slight shrug, initially downplaying the question, something that Harry found indecipherable whether he liked it or not.

"Aren't you too young to have been married?" he suddenly asked, on impulse as he tried to delve into the topic, although he almost immediately regretted the inopportune nature of his question.

Although the intention was good, the question came off as bold, especially given the situation he knew the woman was in. Harry lowered his gaze, feeling a lump in his throat as silence lingered, trying to find a quick way to change the subject.

Lizzy, on the contrary, continued to watch him, aware that the real question was implicit: «Aren't you too young to be a widow?» Still, she decided to answer: "Yes, I am".

"Excuse my boldness". Were the words she received barely after her response. Lizzie hesitated for a moment whether those apologies were genuine, for if they were, he wouldn't have waited for her response. However, this didn't bother her; rather, she found it entertaining..

"Don't worry", she replied with a nod of her head, maintaining a hidden smile as she looked down for a moment. "It's not the first time I've heard that".

Harry fell silent as he watched the woman rise from her seat, feeling his heart beat hard, fearing being expelled from the house for his audacity. However, he began to relax as he saw the young woman head towards a corner of the room, a little away from him, where a wide collection of bottles rested on a shelf. Her hand rested on one of them, dissipating the tension in the air.

"Would you like some?" Lizzie asked Harry, gently lifting a glass of whiskey. Harry was forced to swallow before answering: "I can't". He admitted sincerely.

Lizzie simply nodded and returned to her glass, taking another sip before sitting in front of him on the sofa. All while Harry watched her attentively.

"I understand", she replied after another sip. "I just wanted you to know that you're passing up the best whiskey in the country". Harry's smile was the response Lizzie was hoping for to continue. "But if that's not an option for you and that's why you're not having it, the offer of cookies still stands".

Harry's eyes repeatedly slid over Lizzie's face. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was that drove him to keep looking at her. Perhaps it was her apparent youth, her glow despite her recent husband's death, or the feeling of prohibition by remaining in her house after the interrogation had concluded.

However, the time that had passed was enough for him to regret his decision.

"In fact, I'll accept the offer this time". He announced.

And for the first time that night, he noticed a similarity between her and himself: a dimple that appeared on her cheek when she smiled.

"Perfect".

For at least a quarter of an hour, time passed. Harry found distraction in admiring the architecture and luxury while Lizzie busied herself in the kitchen. In the distance, Harry caught the sweet aroma of the cookies, awakening his appetite as he waited eagerly. Finally, he saw Lizzie approach with a tray, possibly silver, and place it on the central table of the living room. It was then that he realized there was not only food, but also liquids.

In his eagerness to discover, Harry neglected the cookies as his hand quickly reached for the glass of white liquid next to the main plate. He contemplated the liquid for a moment, feeling its warmth on his fingers before perceiving a soft voice rising beside him, at the same time that the sofa slightly gave way under his weight.

"I refrained from adding alcohol. There's only milk", he heard her laugh as he held the glass between his hands, not daring to look to the side. "You can try it to confirm".

Harry closed his eyes briefly, letting the voice fill his senses.

From the moment she entered the house, he had ignored the sweet scent of her perfume. He avoided looking at her bare legs when she crossed them during the conversation. He even refrained from looking at her for too long while she spoke.

However, he ended up doing exactly the opposite. At this point, he had engraved in his memory the smell of her perfume and constantly wondered how significant it would be. He had memorized her posture, and instead of using his notebook, he kept himself busy by observing her intently.

"Everyone knows that I'm a good girl, officer".

His eyes suddenly opened.

His attention was inevitably drawn to her once more, finding her finally by his side, watching him intently. Time seemed to stand still around them. Harry couldn't discern with certainty what was driving him to act, whether it was simply Lizzie's close presence or the use of the expression "good girl", yet something inside him was beginning to flood him with a comforting sensation, making him feel warm and filled with a desperate longing to get closer to her.

Harry quickly turned, averting his gaze from Lizzie, and refocused his attention on the glass of milk and the cookies still on the tray. Suddenly his craving for food vanished, and he preferred to take a sip of the milk, savoring its sweetness, although it didn't quench his thirst. It wasn't until he had almost finished his drink that he mustered up the courage to face the somber gaze of the woman beside him again.

Harry had faced the feeling of intimidation on various occasions, especially in front of authority figures older than him, with serious countenances. However, this time was different. Sitting next to her, with her large eyes fixed on him, he experienced a strange sense of intimidation, although he couldn't understand why, but instead of rejecting it, he felt a growing curiosity that propelled his body forward.

Unconsciously, he found himself moving closer to her with a subtle motion, with his lips parted and close enough to brush against her face, and at the moment he thought he was about to break the tension, he found himself enveloped in a void.

His confusion was reflected in the widening of his eyes, which blinked a couple of times before returning to the front, where he found Lizzie standing in front of him. His gaze immediately fell, and he moistened his lips, preparing to speak, perhaps to apologize for feeling her distance as discomfort, but before he could say anything, he felt nails digging into his cheeks, lifting his face.

Harry tried to move forward, stretching his arms for more, although he was immediately stopped. His cheeks were released, while his hands were held back.

Quickly, Lizzie had taken the handcuffs that were still on his belt while he became aware of his now more extended position in space, with his legs spread apart, leaving room for her to position herself. Before Harry could understand what was happening, his wrists were trapped in the handcuffs, leaving him restrained in the armchair.

He tried to glance back, but the hands grabbed his cheeks once again, although with more force, ensuring visible marks were left. Forced to keep his focus on her, he could clearly distinguish her: her brown eyes, once bright from the room's light, now seemed darker, fixed on him as she sat on his lap, generating a warmth that consumed him.

He needed to be released. And not just from the handcuffs.

Then time began to pass quickly, just like the palpitations of his heart. His lips parted, seeking to catch his breath, but found only agitation, while small moans escaped from his throat at the wet kisses that left marks on his neck.

He wanted more.

He felt his shirt slipping off his body, feeling a slight coolness on his chest, soon replaced by the warmth of the kisses he received. A hand joined the game, caressing him as he tried to lower the fabric as much as possible, frustrated by the handcuffs that prevented his complete release.

He wanted more.

The hand descended, quickly unbuttoning his pants as he rose on the armchair, holding his weight and that of the woman on him. Both rose enough to pull down his pants to his calves, until he could push himself to remove his shoes and pants with the help of his feet.

But still, he wanted more.

He was beginning to experience a growing desperation as time passed. The palpitations in his chest kept him on edge, rising and falling just enough to provoke sighs, but just when they seemed to be heading where he needed them most, they rose again.

The moans filled the room as Harry began to move more forcefully, trying to seek something more than just a simple rubbing between his underwear and Lizzie's skirt. At first, he thought maybe she would feel sorry for seeing him like that, but seeing her eyes turn back to him without compassion, he realized he was wrong.

His breath caught when he saw Lizzie slowly unbuttoning her blouse, with agonizing slowness. Even when he prepared for his work as a policeman, he had not experienced such painful exercises as seeing her with her naked tits brushing his face, and not being able to feel them.

"I saw you very thirsty", she whispered, her voice resonating in a softer tone than usual, awakening in Harry a sensitivity he could barely recognize at that moment. "Do you still want milk?"

His eyes brightened at the question, his head nodding before he could articulate a response; that was all Lizzie needed to pick up the half-finished glass of milk and pour it unhesitatingly over her breasts.

Harry paused for a moment, watching the white liquid carelessly spilling over the woman's nipples, seeing how the drops gradually disappeared over the edge of her skirt. He let out a barely audible sigh, unable to contain it, and then shifted his gaze to Lizzie, who looked at him with a mischievous smile, as if she had made a small oversight, although Harry received it with gratitude. He felt so grateful that, if necessary, he would have fallen to his knees to express his gratitude right at that moment.

"Oh, shit".

Lizzie let out a sigh of relief as she held Harry's hair, who finally decided to approach and take one of her breasts in his mouth. She could feel his tongue gently swirling around her nipple, alternating between delicate movements and firmer suctions.

Instinctively, her hands slid over his body, caressing his skin until they reached the edge of her skirt, which was already starting to feel too warm. She sensed Harry's lips slightly parting from her, which prompted her to immediately open her eyes to look at him.

She was met with his angelic face, with green eyes expanding towards her from below, his curly and disheveled hair, his moist face, and his lips with traces of white liquid at the corners. It was an image that was etched in her memory and urged her to act with greater urgency.

She took a deep breath before separating slightly from him, hearing a complaint starting to form on his lips before he fell silent upon realizing that Lizzie's skirt, along with her underwear, was disappearing. Despite feeling close, she had to take a few steps forward to return to Harry's lap, all while he watched her with his dark eyes, showing submission but pretending to hide something more. Lizzie wondered what it could be, but she didn't give it much importance as she returned to her position, feeling his cock more comfortably beneath her, although still covered by his underwear, brushing against her now naked cunt.

No more than a second passed before she refocused on her own pleasure, starting to move in circles around him again, while moans filled the room once more, both hers and Harry's, who, through his sounds, begged for mercy.

The rhythm intensified, leading Lizzie to abandon the circular movements and start with pelvic movements back and forth. Her excitement fluids facilitated the sliding over the cotton fabric of his underwear, allowing her to perceive more than she had imagined.

Contrary to his own satisfaction, Harry couldn't bear it anymore. A mix of excitement, desperation, discomfort, and anger invaded him as he couldn't feel completely satisfied. Although he had obeyed Lizzie's words, seeing her rubbing herself on him without really feeling her touch deeply frustrated him. He found no other way out than to start pushing forcefully, making the woman's body move sharply on top of him, causing her to open her eyes once more.

"Please", he managed to articulate, while his hips moved slightly.

Lizzie watched him for a few additional seconds before a mocking smile appeared on her face.

"Are you that needy for my pussy?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, he felt three fingers invading his mouth, silencing him immediately as he sucked and moistened them. Then, as if his prayers had been heard, he felt Lizzie moving slightly away from his lap. He saw her kneel in front of him, taking off his underwear and exposing his erect member.

A sigh escaped his lips as the fingers, soaked with his own saliva and pre-cum, caressed his glans and began to masturbate him with the palm of her hand.

"Fuck me".

His voice emerged without hesitation, rough from the dryness in his tongue and throat, yet irresistibly enticing for Lizzie; eager for Harry.

"Is that an order?" she asked, teasingly. "What do you plan to do if I don't? After all, those handcuffs are in your hands, not mine". The massage on his cock became more vigorous, causing jolts from the fires he felt under her hand.

"Let's try again, officer", she suddenly mentioned, making his eyes close for a moment. His profession hadn't even crossed his mind until that moment, but the prohibition of the moment wasn't what affected him the most, but a fire that resurged within him, rising from his lower part to his chest, filling him with excitement as he heard her.

"Shit- Please, please fuck me".

A fleeting smile appeared on Lizzie's face and quickly disappeared as she sat in the place she had desired so much but from which she had refrained, not suppressing the moan that escaped once she achieved it.

She was about to start more energetic circular movements, finding something to hold on to this time, but her actions were overshadowed by those of the man beneath her, who had taken the lead, pounding forcefully and swiftly, making her sigh softly as she allowed herself to be enveloped by the pleasurable sensation.

Then she realized that Harry's urgency was expressing itself in that way, and she let herself go, allowing him to take the lead even when his hands remained restrained.

Lizzie was forced to hold onto the couch when she found that simply leaning on Harry's shoulders was not enough to withstand the onslaught she felt inside her. Her eyes involuntarily closed, unable to keep her gaze on him for long, while her lips parted in search of air. She only found relief when Harry's tongue joined hers on her neck, leaving the same careless kisses she had given him at the beginning, but this time he decided to intensify the sensations with suctions. Lizzie had no doubt that the marks would remain there for at least a week due to the force with which he made them.

"God- You fuck me so good", she exclaimed, accompanying her groan with a whisper that made Harry open his eyes, becoming hypnotized by the sight of Lizzie's tits bouncing to the rhythm of his thrusts. He bit his lower lip to contain his own impending moan.

"I'm so close- Oh fuck! Fuck-". Lizzie's own moans intertwined, becoming more intense, filling the room with their sound, resonating even throughout the house.

Harry sharply inhaled air between his teeth, tilting his head back as he closed his eyes tightly, feeling the electric current running through his body, although he had been avoiding that moment, wanting first to observe Lizzie's reaction, wanting to absorb it completely.

"Look at me", Lizzie's voice pulled him out of his reverie, as she took his chin and forced their gazes to meet once more. "Come on, be good and let me feel you pulsating as you fill me with cum".

Harry struggled to keep his eyes open as he did his best to maintain his gaze on hers, intensifying his rhythm as much as he could, seeing her mouth open as she brought her face closer to his, brushing their lips.

"Harry!- Fuck".

Then climax came for both simultaneously, with their foreheads united and sweat sliding down them. Harry felt Lizzie's cunt walls squeezing his cock, which throbbed inside her, while she experienced a sensation of fullness and warmth, an excitement that ran through her whole body and left her trembling as she moaned softly.

As the minutes passed, their breaths calmed down. Although the atmosphere was still imbued with heat and disorder, Harry finally felt liberated, despite still having his hands handcuffed.

The large clock struck three in the morning when they woke up without realizing how long they had remained in that position. Lizzie noticed the weight on her eyelids, indicating the need for rest, but she was forced to separate from Harry when she felt the burning sensation in her thighs, and the first thing she saw when she got up was the slight smile on Harry's face.

"I don't know if you've had experience as a criminal before, but you look very comfortable with those handcuffs".

The comment only made Harry's smile widen before he opened his eyes and replied: "I can't feel my wrists".

Immediately after, Harry watched as the dimple on Lizzie's face reappeared, but this time accompanied by a genuine laugh.

After he revealed the location of the key that would unlock the handcuffs and she finally managed to free him, she walked to one of the utility rooms in search of a blanket, still naked and feeling the cold air brushing against her skin.

Lizzie focused on her destination, avoiding looking elsewhere, entered the room, took the blanket, and walked out without looking back, ignoring the shadow she had perceived slipping down the hallway.

Once they settled on the sofa in the living room, she watched as Harry's hand reached for the silver tray that had remained on the central table, and he took one of the cookies she had prepared. At that moment, Lizzie suspected that perhaps that action had caused her perplexity upon learning of Richard's death.

Because it hadn't fit with her plans.

The chocolate cookies had awaited on her bedside table in the previous room, expecting her husband's first bite upon returning from the office after a long day of work.

That would have been the culmination, the beginning of something new.

So she understood that this episode marked the real beginning, perhaps the prelude to a dangerous game she was willing to embark on once again. From scratch.

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles fanfic recs #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smutty fanfic #policerry #policeman #!police harry #harry styles oneshot #one shot harry styles #hs au #hs #mystery #suspense

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sarahsmi13s · 1 year

Text

Baking Playlists

for @roosterforme 's rocktober event!!

pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x pilot!reader (callsign: cookie)

characters: jake seresin, reader, jake's parents and sister

warnings: language, slightly suggestive, domestic hangman, hangman acting like a man child

word count: ~1.9k

a/n: the song that inspired this is def leppard's pour some sugar on me, i took it in the very literal sense 😅

summary: it's jake's parents anniversary and you want to do something sweet for them, however jake is awful in the kitchen and is a huge distraction

Jake didn’t know what to expect when he invited you to come with him to his parents place while on his leave after the uranium mission. Maybe just you and his sisters hitting it off right away, and going shopping with his mom. Or rolling around in the grass with the herding dogs and the barn cats. Hell, maybe you would have made a friend with the deers that randomly showed up on the property.

But he didn’t expect this.

You and Jake had managed to take over his mother’s kitchen one afternoon while she was gone for a few hours with multiple errands and then come home really quick to change and to go out for her and his dad’s anniversary.

“Okay, what are your parent’s favorite cookies?” You asked Jake, looking around his mother’s kitchen.

He blinked at you, “Oh um… I think Ma likes blueberry lemon cookies and Dad likes sugar cookies.” You nodded at him with a grin before moving around the kitchen and grabbing ingredients and finding the recipe for both cookies.

“Why-why do you ask?” Jake asked, leaning against the island as he watched you move. “We’re making cookies for your parents for their anniversary, Honey,” you said as you moved to go to the fridge.

Jake snatched your arm, “Sugar, you just met them. You don’t-” “I’m doing it and so are you,” you said,with an authority in your voice that made Jake want to stand at attention.

“Sugar, you know I’m terrible at baking. I’m a wiz on the grill but you ask me to bake a cake and I’m lost.”

You arched a brow at him, “The directions are on the box Jake…” He fixed you with a look, “And you know how I feel about directions, Sugar.”

Scoffing with a laugh, you shook your head, “Either way, doesn’t matter. My callsign is Cookie for a reason. I just need your help, you don’t have to touch the oven. Please baby?”

Jake clenched his jaw and looked away from your puppy dog eyes, knowing he’d give in the moment he looked in them. “Pleeeaaaseee Jakey?” You tried again, gripping his shirt and pouting. But Jake wasn’t gonna give in, not without something in return.

“Okay, I’ll help-” “Yes!” “But-” Your face dropped, “No, no not the ‘but’.” He chuckled before pulling out his phone, “I get to pick the music.”

You huffed but nodded, “Fine.” He grinned triumphantly and pressed his lips to yours, “But you can’t get distracted, got it?” He chuckled, “Yes ma’am.”

For the two batches of blueberry lemon cookies, Jake had behaved and was actually helpful. He only pulled you into a few serenades and air guitar concerts when the song was a mutual favorite.

But as you started mixing the sugar cookies, one of Jake’s favorite songs came on.

As Shenendoah’s Two Dozen Roses faded out, Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar On Me’s classic intro filled the kitchen.

Jake practically gasped and his eyes cut to you.

“No, Jake, I’m trying to make your dad's cookies. Don’t even think about it,” you scolded, not even having to turn to him to know he had a devious grin on his face.

Jake just rolled his eyes and leaned on the island, dramatically lip syncing to Joe Elliott. He was doing his best to get your attention and get you to abandon the dry ingredients in front of you.

You managed to ignore him as you scooped out the first two cups of flour.

But as it turns out, Jake is hellbent on getting your attention.

So as you scooped out the last half cup of flour, he grabbed your hips to spin you around. “You gotta squeeze a little, squeeze a little / Tease a little more / Easy operator come a knockin' on my door~,” Jake sang as he spun you.

“Jake!”

He stopped and looked at you, “What? What happened?” You huffed and dropped the now empty cup onto the granite countertop. With your arms bowed at your sides you looked down to survey the damage.

Your once black shirt was now covered in stark white flour. Your socks were no better and your legs were covered in flour as well.

“Oh, shit,” Jake said, a huff of a laugh behind his words. But he swallowed it and covered it up with a cough as he looked at the mess he knew he made. “Sugar-” You held up a finger, “Not now Jacob Dallas. You had one job.”

“I honestly didn’t think that would happen Darlin’, I swear.”

You shook your head and took a breath, “Get the broom and the dust pan, clean it up. Please.” Jake sighed, “Yes ma’am.”

He sulked over to the pantry to retrieve the items and you turned back to the bowl.

Def Leppard was still singing as you looked in the bowl and Jake started sweeping.

“Pour some sugar on me! In the name of love!”

You smirked a little and looked from your bowl to your boyfriend, who was still mumbling along as he cleaned up the mess.

With a perfect idea, you dipped your fingers into the bowl and grabbed a good amount of flour in them.

Jake stood up straight after having bent over to pick up the dust pan, “Okay I got it.” You hummed and shook your head, “Missed a spot.” Jake’s brow furrowed and he looked down, “What, where?” You lazily pointed to the floor, “Right there.” “Where?” He looked up at you, confused, “Sugar I don’t-” “Right there,” you giggled as you looked at Jake’s face, which was now covered in flour.

“Cookie, did you just?” You laughed harder as you nodded, “Sure did! That’s what you get, JD.”

Jake growled a little and wiped his face, “Was that necessary?” You shrugged innocently, turning back to your ingredients, “Maybe, maybe not.”

He shook his head but laughed, “Okay truce?” You giggled lightly and nodded, “Yeah, truce.”

“Kiss on it?”

“Not until you get the flour of your lips. Raw flour tastes disgusting.”

Jake groaned but complied, tossing the contents of the dust pan away before going to the sink.

He grabbed the sprayer hose and turned the faucet on, spraying any remaining flour off of his face. With a tea towel, he patted his face dry before looking at you. He looked back at the nozzle out of the corner of his eye, a devilish smirk on his face.

“Hey Sugar, look at me, I think you have something on your face.” You hummed and did as he said, “Oh do I? Whe- Jacob Dallas Seresin!”

You let out a high pitched groan and glared at Jake, only to get more upset to find him gripping his sides as he laughed.

Oh, if he wants to play that game you will gladly play that game.

Grabbing an egg you walked over and broke it on his chest.

Jake grunted a little at the impact before looking down and watching the shell fall to the floor.

With his head still down, he looked up at you through his brow. Your stomach dropped and you knew you had unleashed the beast that is the ‘Hangman’. This was a competition now, and he was gonna do whatever it took to win.

“Jake, Honey, Baby, Sweetheart, let’s talk about this. There’s no need to do anything rash,” you attempted feebly. But it was no use.

Jake was quick to grab the bowl of mixed wet ingredients and pour the contents on your head before you had the chance to run.

“At least it’s good for your hair,” he quipped off as he sat the bowl on your head.

The cold mixture of egg mixed with vanilla extract dripped down your face as you took the bowl off your head. Sniffing a little, you sat it down before wiping away the liquid from your face and wiping your hand on Jake’s shirt.

“I will beat you like an egg, Hangman.”

Not too long after the food fight broke out, Deana and Levi, Jake’s mom and dad, came home.

Needless to say, Deana wasn’t prepared to see the disarray her kitchen was in.

Flour, eggs, and sugar coated the counters and the floor; it also happened to be covering her son and his girlfriend as they continued to throw handfuls of the powdery substance everywhere.

She wasn’t angry… okay maybe she was a little upset. But she could see the look on both of your faces as you laughed and made strong memories together in her kitchen and it filled her with joy… even if the kitchen looked like a warzone.

“Um, Jake, my darling son, what.. um.. what happened to my kitchen?” She asked, trying not to laugh at the mortified looks on your faces seeing her and Levi standing in the doorway.

“Oh, um.. Well you see… Y/N and I were-” Jake stopped seeing that both of his parents were nearly ready to explode with laughter and he relaxed. “We– Y/N was trying to make you cookies for your anniversary and I was helping. A song came on and I made her spill some flour and then one thing led to another and we ended up here.”

“Awe, Y/N honey, that's so thoughtful. Thank you.”

You nodded, smiling, “Of course. But um we unfortunately only got the blueberry lemon ones done… Sorry Mr Seresin, we can definitely still make you some in the morning, after we restock your ingredients.”

“Wait seriously? You’d do that?”

“Levi Micheal,” Deana scolded, slapping him on the arm. “You can eat the blueberry lemon ones, do not make her wake up early to make you cookies.”

“It’s really no problem, I don’t mind doing that.”

Before Levi can speak, Deana covers his mouth, “Only if you want to do that. But don’t feel obligated.”

“We’re definitely restocking your ingredients though Ma, most of your flour is on the floor…”

She smiled and carefully walked over to kiss his cheek, “Thank you, baby.” She kissed your cheek too, “Thank you too. Now at least I know why Jake calls you ‘Sugar’, cause you’re sweet.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s why he calls her that Mama,” Jake’s youngest sister, Lyla, commented as she walked through the cleaner side of the kitchen to grab a snack before going back to her room.

“Lyla Blake-” Jake muttered in a threatening tone. “Oh don’t get your flight suit in a knot, I’m only half-joking,” she smarted off, dodging Jake’s egg cover hand making a grab at her as she left.

Deana opened her mouth and looked between them, pointing back and forth. “You know what, I’m not gonna ask.”

“Probably for the best DJ,” Levi chuckled, kissing her cheek before retreating upstairs.

She shook her head with a playful eye roll, “Okay, I know it’s late, but I need you both to clean this up and when you’re done, go hose off in the backyard. Got it?”

You and Jake nodded dutifully, “Yes ma’am.” “Alright goodnight.” “Goodnight Ma.” “Goodnight Mrs Seresin.”

She went upstairs and you and Jake looked at each other before surveying the catastrophe around you.

“You do know the song is about s-”

“Jacob Dallas-”

“Shutting up.”

hi, hello, thank you all for reading and making it to the end! i hope you enjoyed! and for this particular event i've got one more to do so be on the look out for that 😉

top gun taglist <33: @milesdickpic @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @sebsxphia @nobody7102 @djs8891 @desert-fern @startrekfangirl2233 @horseshoegirl @cassiemitchell @mayhemmanaged @roosterforme

#top gun rocktober #jake seresin x reader #pour some sugar on me #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #hangman imagine #controlled chaos squad #hangman x reader #hangman fic #hangman top gun #jake seresin #tgm fic #sarahsmi13s

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coven-of-genesis · 8 months

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Aromatherapy for beauty

Smell is the most primitive of all our senses. Our smell receptors send messages directly to the limbic system - the deep part of the brain that controls emotions.

Essential oils distilled from natural botanicals can exert a powerful influence on our mood and spiritual balance.

They can even improve sleep and manage pain. And they can be a potent ingredient of your beauty routine that visibly lifts both your internal and external well-being.

Diffuse aromatherapy oils using a diffuser or spray bottle to evoke a particular mood and move you closer to your desired intention. Oils can be applied directly to your skin diluted in a neutral carrier oil - argan oil and rosehip oil are both excellent carrier oils.

Why not try mixing your own essential oil blend to create a bespoke beauty treatment that works its magic just for you.

Aromatherapy oils are a beauty essential. Research what works for your mood as well as your skin, or get started with these classic beauty boosters.

Lavender -

The queen of beauty oils, lavender is calming, gentle and nourishing and can reduce the appearance of blemishes.

It promotes good sleep and helps with relaxation and de-stressing - and when you're peaceful and well rested, beautiful is easy.

Lemon -

This oil's high concentration of D-limonene, a compound that helps promote circulation, gives it magical skin-repairing and toning properties.

Frankincense -

Prized since ancient Egyptian times for its ability to keep skin youthful, this heady oil can reduce the appearance of fine lines and give your skin a radiant glow.

#aromatherapy #Aromatherapy for beauty #witchblr #witchcore #witchcraft #witchlife #white witch #beginner witch #witch tips #grimoire #spirituality

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mephistopheleswasrobbed · 14 days

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Ghost Pepe Silvia is back with episode 2 of Peaceful Property/On Sale and it's still gay and here's why (this time a little less chronological):

Pangpang approves. She and Peach are obviously very close and Peach values her opinion a lot. Pangpnag, even though she's technically his younger sister, has taken on some stereotypical older sibling roles in relation to Peach. She takes care of him, protects him and now she's even kind of become his manager. She clearely takes this very seriously so her disapproval would be a hindrance to any potential relationship with Peach. But unlike with Best, she does approve of Home.

(Btw finger guns? That's kinda bi of you, Pangpang and Home!)

And while this approval might initially be rooted in Home's wealth, it can't be the only factor (Best has money. Not Home levels but definitely a lot more than the siblings. And it didn't help him.) and it ceartainly isn't by the end of the episode.

(Actually there might be a parallel here between Pangpang going from valuing Home for his money to valuing him for his character and Home who starts out trying to solve every problem with money but is strating to learn that there are more valuable things he can bring to tha table.)

Not only does Pangpang approve, she ships it. We already know that she plans to marry off her brother to attain financial security for them. Now that she's found a rich guy whom she also approves of, she's doing her best to make it happen.

From trying to mediate and damage control their fights,

to (not so) subtly planting ideas in Peach's head.

As I predicted last time, Home does flirt with Kan again this eppisode. But it happens only once, when he introduces her to the siblings, and it seems even less serious than last episode. If anything it feels more like posturing, trying to play himself up, infront of Peach.

(come on he even looks at Peach while he says this)

They keep fighting like little children because they actually care about each others opinion.

So Peach pouts when Home insults his sandwiches.

Home pretends that he doesn't need Peach only to complain about his absence two minutes later.

They go at it in a 'No-you!' manner of arguing at the slightest provocation.

Home keeps reaching out to touch Peach. He doesn't do that with anyone else (aside from one quickly stopped attempt with Kan)

We see Home abandoning every other character except for Peach. Not only does he not abandon Peach, he carries him on his shoulder after Peach faints in his arms, and when he gets attacked by posessed Pangpang, instead of running away he puts himself into danger trying to pull her off Peach.

Then there's the whole sequence they basically pulled out of the dislike-to-lovers trope box. First Home pretends that he totally doesn't care about Peach only to talk his uncle's ear off about him, showing that he obviously does care.

Then the wise friend (In this case uncle Kit) talks some sense into him, making him see that he's also at fault, leading to:

Home pacing in front of his crush's door, debating with himself on whether or not to knock, finally making up some external reason why he should actually knock. Only to chicken out at the last minute, hide, and then witness something he wasn't supposed to.

Classic!

Home calls Peach hot in his own ad.

(and gives him a phallic object as a prop)

And at the end of this episode we get the moment Peach starts to fall.

Namely after Home tells him he arranged for Rak's mother to receive her benefits. Thus proving to Peach that he is capable of looking past his prejudices and show kindness to a stranger without having to be forced into it.

Peach, who has been described as and shown to be a person who is very kind and empathetic towars strangers (including those that he's afraid of, read: ghosts, which is why he's able to get them to pass on), obviously values kindness and empathy in others. Previously he had found Home lacking in that department, but now that he's shown the capacity for it, we can clearly see Peach immediately softening towars Home. (At this point I have to give some praise to Tay for managing to convey this with barely any movement, in general all four of them have done really well so far)

Peach's blossoming feelings for Home are further shown when he definitely doesn't even care whether Home approves of him when Pangpang asks about Home's verdict after the trial exorcism,

and when he enters the 'I-totally-don't-even-like-him' stage that we've already seen from Home, as examplified by his "Nonsense" response when Pangpang calls him out for being posessive.

There's no use pretending Peach, your sister has you figured out.

Home continues to grow through his association with Peach (and Pangpang and Kan), being more polite when he visits the siblings, trying to get Rak's mother her money, paying the siblings even though he initially told them to do it for free. And he continues to simp for #hotnerdexorcist.

Just look at his fond little smile as he watches Peach and Pangpang freak out about the money.

And last but not least we're returning to my ass-pull segment of punching symbolism I'm titeling Peach punching his way to love:

This week we had one punch and one prevented punch, both coming from Peach. I would like to argue that both symbolise the character growth that Home needs to undergo so Peach can fully fall in love with him.

-> The manager stands for the part of Home that Peach sees most of this episode. The part that thinks money solves all problems, that looks down on poor people and has no desire to give a chance to anything he deems "lesser" (like Peach's sandwiches). This part gets punched by Peach because this is the behaviour that Peach can't stand, that Home has to grow from.

-> The mother stands for Home's less visible but still present side that does care about others and is willing to set things right when he realises he made a mistake/was unfair in his judgement over others. Peach tries to punch this part, too, because he can't/isn't willing to see the potential for kindness in Home but Pangpang holds him back, allowing him to see that this isn't someone to be punched. Just like she repeatedly tries to make her brother give Home a chance, to give Home the opportunity to show that he does have some redeeming qualities.

And that's it for episode 2. Now that Peach has also started to fall, let's see if I have more to say on his part in the next episode!

#peaceful property #peaceful property the series #homepeach #so many screenshots so little working memory. my poor laptop was struggeling there for a second

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merakiui · 11 months

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could you tell us some of these ideas you have for malleus?

There are far too many thoughts... orz here are just a few that I have recently had.

✧ sleep paralysis demon malleus.

✧ a story in which you live at the edge of a forest that's slowly creeping closer and beginning to invade your property. and standing at the edge of the forest, unable to cross over, is a horned stranger dressed in a cloak of brambles. you try to voice your concerns to friends, but they won't believe you. you've been having trouble sleeping lately and you're starting to neglect your mental health, but you know you're not crazy. by the end of the month, you're certain the forest will swallow your quaint home whole. your only option to prevent that? investigate what it is the horned stranger could possibly want.

✧ phantom of the opera au with malleus as the phantom.

✧ idol group with malleus, idia, and azul and you're their manager. or maybe you're the fourth member being added to their ensemble. or maybe you're just a fan hehe. <3 either way, malleus is so whipped for you.

✧ this isn't exactly a malleus-centered thought, but you and sebek bond over your mutual admiration for malleus. you wish to get closer to malleus (because you love him) and sebek completely understands your desire to do so. who wouldn't want to associate themselves with someone as great as waka-sama!!!!!! but in helping you with this, sebek starts to grow romantically attached. he thinks he's dying because no ailment has ever made his heart beat this fast before. T_T malleus is distantly connected to this; essentially, cute love story between you and sebek. :D

✧ your kingdom and malleus's are at war and, in the midst of defeat, you're taken as a prisoner of war and forced to bear malleus's heir. <3 or you're simply forced into an arranged marriage. malleus wants to marry his enemy much to the utter shock of the kingdom, but no one will go against what their king wishes and so you are a captive spouse.

✧ befriending the kind dragon fae boy when you were young and offhandedly mentioning that you'd marry him when you were older. many years pass, the both of you grow and mature, and you've moved to another city to pursue work. one day, you receive a knock at your apartment door. standing there is the dragon fae with a ring and an entire royal entourage behind him. did you not remember the promise you made all that time ago? D: you're going to be wed now!

✧ king rollo and king malleus are at war and you're the poor royal stuck between them, as your kingdom is between both of theirs on the maps. orz and both of them want you to side with them, for they're both hopelessly infatuated with you. for extra drama: the three of you were inseparable childhood friends. >:)

✧ classic somnophilia thoughts. knocking you up while you're in deep sleep. malleus trapping you in a dream that feels like reality, in which you live a happy, domestic life with him. or being stuck in a strange dreamy time loop that you're desperate to break and get out of, but malleus is intent on keeping you here forever.

✧ classic fairytale scenario where you're sent to slay the dragon, but he slays you instead (by spearing you on his cocks!!!! <3).

✧ isekai manhwa sort of plot in which you wake as malleus's maid/advisor/spouse/guard, but according to the plot of the story you're fated to die at his hands because your character ultimately betrays him/does something that warrants death (or maybe you simply die because he threw a fit and you got caught in the raging crossfire). to change this destiny, you make it your mission to get on friendly, happy terms with him. unfortunately, you only give him more reasons to love you even more than he had before and so now you may have avoided death, but you can't escape the stifling obsession.

#twisted chit chat #i was listening to 'make a wish' again and malleus... woooo his voice is so 😵‍💫 malleus fans i completely understand your love for him #but also azul did not have to go so hard with the emphasis on 'ai' in 'ai no sukui o'#like... 🤨 azul why do you sound so yearning when you draw out the syllable???#he's rizzing me up through song orz #all of them are T^T

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ts4challengehub · 9 months

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💼 gameplay challenges (A – H)

⤷ browse all by tag

120 Years of U.S. History Legacy

2 Choices Legacy

7 Deadly Sins

80's Classics Legacy Challenge

Adopt-a-Sim Challenge

Aesthetic™ Legacy Challenge

Aesthetics Challenge

Alternate Universe Storyteller Challenge

And So It Begins Challenge

Animal Crossing Legacy

Anonymously Autonomous Challenge

Another Beeping Legacy

Assassin Challenge

Astrology Legacy

Autumn Time Legacy

Avatar Legacy Challenge

Awesomesauce Legacy

Barbie Legacy

Baldur's Gate 3 Legacy

Beginner's Drama Challenge

Berry Pastel Rainbowcy

Beautiful Flowers Legacy

Birds of a Feather Legacy

Boba Tea Legacy Challenge

Book Genre Legacy Challenge

Bored of Everything Legacy

Bustin' Out Challenge

But Daddy I Love Him Legacy

Celebacy

Charmed Legacy

Checklist Challenge

Chromatic Legacy Challenge

Coin Flip Legacy

Collection Legacy

Collector's Challenge

Colors of Nature Legacy

Colour Legacy

Crybaby Whims

Crystal Legacy Challenge

Dark Victorian Legacy

Days of the Week Challenge

Differences in the Family Tree

Disney Movie Legacy

Disney Princess Challenge

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Disney Villain Challenge

Divine Feminine Challenge

Emotional Rollercoaster Legacy

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Eras: The Legacy Challenge

Ever After Legacy Challenge

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Expand Your Expansions Challenge

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F.R.I.EN.D.S. Legacy Challenge

Family Dynamics Challenge

Family is Everything Challenge

Family Jewels Legacy Challenge

Family Values Legacy

Fandom Legacy Challenge

Fantastical Whims Legacy

Fantasy Challenge

Fatal Flaws Legacy

Feline Legacy Challenge

Flower Garden Legacy

Follow the Yellow Brick Road

For Rent: Property Management Challenge

Forgotten Realms Legacy

Fruity Legacy Challenge

Gaming Legacy

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Get a Life Challenge

Globetrotter Challenge

Great Simlish Cook-Off

Greek Gods Legacy Challenge(s)

Groovy Legacy Challenge

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Halloween Legacy

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Heart Signal Challenge

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Holiday Legacy

Home Sweet Home Legacy

How a Legacy Blooms Challenge

Human Enough Challenge

#navigation #gameplay challenges #sims 4 #sims 4 challenge

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annaraebananawriter · 10 months

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Techno didn't like being sick. He hated staying in place for too long, forcing other people to look after him. He hated it, so whenever he was sick, he usually powered through it, continuing as normal. Can't burden anyone if you make yourself functional, can you? Of course, he couldn't really deny anything when he was passing out, especially with a witness. (Luckily for him, though, Phil was an excellent caregiver. He liked doing it, liked making sure his friends, his family, knew they were loved. He was going to make sure Techno knew he wasn't a burden to anyone by the time he was healthy. In the meantime, he can make a mean soup, which might actually be just what Techno needed after all.)

For @anarchy-and-piglins

Hello Shae! I am back at it again with a gift fic for you because of @technoblade-gift-exchange. I would've given it to you earlier this week had writer's block not kidnapped me and held me hostage. I only just managed to escape it's greedy clutches. I hope you find this fic satisfying.

I'm realizing now that it might be the first time I'm writing, like, an actual sick fic. So it might not be great. Definitely not my best work, but when you get halfway, it starts being tender in a way that makes me smile, so I suppose that has to count for something. In any case, it's a sick fic, and no matter what those are generally some good food, a classic little snack whenever you want. So, I hope this counts--even if it's over 8k long...

Anyway, I'll stop taking now and leave you, and everyone else, to it! Hope you enjoy! Happy reading!!

#my writing #my fanfiction #origins smp #technoblade #philza #tommyinnit #emerald duo #sick fic #osmp #osmp technoblade #osmp philza #human technoblade #and i think that's all the tags I need #gift fic

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tailschannel · 9 months

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Sonic to get "several new mobile titles" in the future, according to SEGA management meeting document

The Sonic the Hedgehog series is expected to receive "several new titles" for mobile platforms, SEGA's parent company confirmed in a management meeting early Wednesday.

Apple and Google were both named as "key players" in the mobile sector for SEGA, as the publisher detailed an encompassing transmedia scheme for the blue blur, which will include licencing and collaborations with other third-party properties.

"Several new" mobile games under development

With an established presence thanks to the likes of free apps like Sonic Dash and Sonic Forces Speed Battle, the franchise looks set to dive in the world of mobile gaming, as part of SEGA's future plans.

The publisher did not rule out exclusivity clauses with subscription-based mobile gaming services. In recent days, the publisher signed a contract with Apple to produce Sonic Dream Team, and Netflix announced a mobile port of Sonic Mania Plus for their game subscription service.

No word of a specific timeframe for the aforementioned mobile games, currently in development.

Future Sonic mobile games to adopt Rovio's Beacon toolkit

As part of the mobile expansion, the upcoming slate is expected to adopt "Beacon", an internal development and marketing toolkit powered by machine learning, frequently utilized by Rovio, the Finnish studio behind Angry Birds that SEGA acquired over the summer.

The studio described Beacon as a platform to "build games and get games to market, models to profitably grow and monetize the game and live operations tools to maximize our players’ fun."

The toolkit has been criticized in a number of fan-run Angry Birds forums for incentivizing revenue at the expense of gameplay quality.

SEGA did not disclose if the Beacon platform will extend beyond the present suite of HARDlight mobile games.

More details on SEGA's resurrection of classic hits

SEGA also unveiled these new images and descriptions for the five new games announced at The Game Awards, described as a "power surge" to re-electrify their classic hits, like Crazy Taxi and Jet Set Radio.

Crazy Taxi: Innovative & Fresh Style Driving Action! Cheerful feeling of freedom and fusion of nature and city. Peel out the new stage of Crazy City!

Jet Set Radio: "Counter-Culture" - Tokyo Street Open World! Experience the "rebellion" movement that feels free in a suffocating society. Make friends, increase your fans, and create a movement!

Shinobi: Slay the enemies in the silence of the moment. Run through the world of Shinobi, full of monsters and ninja actions. Grab Oberozuki, the legendary sword and slay evil once more. Your clan and the world are counting on you.

Golden Axe: Warriors arise to subdue the demons! Defeat your enemies with a variety of attacks with swords and magic! The legendary story about the battle axe, Golden Axe is about to begin!

Streets of Rage Revolution: Beloved side-scrolling beat 'em up action series! Take control of one of the ex-officers and make the city a place where people no longer have to walk the "Streets of Rage."

The announcement coincided with SEGA's plans to strengthen their flagship video game brands like Persona and Like a Dragon, and to expand with legacy properties.

(Edit 2:00 pm ET - post updated with new details)

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic #the next sonic #sega #gaming #mobile gaming #mobile games #rovio #rovio entertainment #angry birds #crazy taxi #jet set radio #shinobi #golden axe #streets of rage #streets of rage revolution #sega japan #sonic news

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superego-imagines · 3 months

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OMG it was so nice to read about your blog! I'm on my knees praying to you like a god for some Polka-dot man x reader headcanons. preferably romantic or smut (whatever you feel comfortable writing) I just wanna give him the love he deserves <3

((He's my fucking MAAAAAAAN! I'm so glad other people like him!

Polka-Dot Man Relationship Headcanons SFW + NSFW

SFW Headcanons

So I’m not going to get too into the weeds of how you guys got together because I already covered that in OT3 fic. But suffice is to say that it’s gotta be slow-burn friends to lovers 30k words 40 chapters. So when you finally do start dating you’re already pretty comfortable with each other. In a lot of ways that makes things easy. But knowing when to take it slow and how exactly to transition your relationship from a platonic one to a non-platonic one takes time. You spend the first week or so dancing around each other trying to bait the other into making first moves, like him nudging his hand against yours during a movie, or you leaning in so you can “get rid of an eyelash”. Eventually he breaks and asks to hold your hand and you both hopefully learn that you have to use your words to get what you want!

Living with the virus outside Belle Reeves is difficult. He can’t go more than six hours before the initial symptoms start to show. There's very few safe places for him to expel his dots without major property damage. The safest option, albeit not the most environmentally friendly, is a backyard or a private place in a local park. Anywhere where large amounts of matter can be displaced with little damage to infrastructure. Maybe you can cut a deal with the city's waste management department lol. There's also the physical side effect. As much as he desperately wants to fit in, it can be hard when there's a big glowing hazard sign threatening to burst out of his face. It can make going out in public anxiety-producing, which doesn’t help anything. He was given a more subtle power dampening collar as part of his parole. This helps him sleep through the night but comes with its own unpleasant side effects like headaches and nausea. Not to mention that any sort of medical equipment or restraints are mildly triggering. Like a lot of chronic/long term medical problems, there's no easy fix, you just have to establish care plans, stick to what works and try to be patient when things don't work out.

For related and unrelated reasons, dates can be kind of hard. So many years of only seeing the same four walls until eventually seeing a different same four walls have left him desperate for any and every experience he can. But that can easily swing back the other direction, leaving him overstimulated from all of the noise and bright lights and people all bearing the face that haunts him. He wants to do all the things he could only read about in books or watch on TV when he was younger. He wants to try new foods and go to new places and just have fun for once. But sometimes it’s just too much, especially in particularly loud, crowded, or otherwise overwhelming places. And then that leads to a new wave of frustration and anxiety because he wants so badly to do normal couple things with you but it feels like he always ruins it. He doesn’t of course but it’s hard to not feel frustrated. Though that isn’t to say there aren't plenty of fun things to do together, you just have to work your way up to the big stuff. His favorite date you’ve been on was probably the trip to the aquarium. It was so beautiful and peaceful! Although he did insist that you just move on past the Echinoderm exhibit. Also fun pseudo/at-home dates include Mystery Meal Nights in which you try to find a new take-out place or at least a new food from one of the classics. And, while he won’t instigate it, he does really like dancing with you. He likes it in general, but unless he’s mildly to majorly drunk he won’t dance in public. So you can have little living room dance parties with just the two of you~ He doesn’t dance particularly well, but that just makes it more fun. Dance comes from the heart and that, he has plenty of.

So sort of paralleling the sensory issues I’ve already mentioned. He is simultaneously extremely touch-starved and desperate for affection, but will also sort of out of nowhere get touched-out and just kind of need space. For the first half of his life he was pretty much exclusively around family, and then was put into solitary for most of the rest of it. And now he has you! Someone he loves so so much and wants to hug and kiss and cuddle and all the other things boyfriends are supposed to do. Sometimes it’s just still too foreign and overwhelming, although the longer you two date, the easier it gets and the less often these moments occur. But on the flipside, when he does feel touchy, he might as well be made of Velcro. Every time you cross a new line of acceptable relationship behavior (hand-holding, kissing, etc.), he just adds that to the list of things he’s constantly trying to do. Sometimes he’s just so happy it doesn’t feel real, like he’s going to wake up and it will all be some crazy dream. Nothing in his real life could actually be this nice. He doesn’t articulate it when he feels like that, but you’ll know it by the way his breath shudders when he holds you close, or he holds you extra tight, murmuring an apology in your ear but not letting go. Not yet. Just in case.

NSFW Headcanons

(Under the Cut)

So related to the above, that touch starvation definitely translates sexually. While he eventually mellows out, especially early on in the relationship there's a sort of barely restrained desperation in everything he does. He doesn't ever instigate or suggest something new but the second you suggest or okay something he jumps on it. He just doesn't want to scare you off or push you, even if you want him just as badly. Whenever you're making out, he tries to press as close to you as humanly possible. His kisses are uncoordinated and a little sloppy but his eagerness is sexy in its own right. He's just been so pent up with no outlet or even privacy until now. And he was pining after you for so long. Can you blame him for trying to make up for lost time?

This man is sooooo desperate to please. He's just head over heels in love with you. You've brought so much joy and love to his life, he wants to show you how much he loves and appreciates you. (At a less sexy time, it'd probably be good to talk with him about that feeling of debt and how you love him for who he is, not what he can do for you. But that’s a whole other demon.) So that being said, he’s pretty flexible. While he’s not exactly adventurous, he is open to suggestions. If you want him to take charge, he’ll do his best! Or he’s happy to follow instructions and let you take the lead. Service-Vers. Though, while he’d never ask for it because pleasing you is at the forefront, he’d really enjoy getting to be a pillow prince every once in a while. Just smothered in affection while you take care of everything and spoil him. He’d probably die of happiness.

To be perfectly honest, he’s pretty vanilla. But that’s not a bad thing! He likes gentle, romantic love-making in a bed with the lights dimmed. While he’s not opposed, per say, to trying something new every once in a while, he doesn’t really need anything other than you to make him happy. No matter how many times you two have sex it never gets old or feels less special. If anything it just gets better the more familiar and comfortable he becomes with your body and his own. He likes missionary best but is also a fan of really any position where he can hold you close and see/kiss your face. The one sort of kink he has is praise, though I’d argue everyone likes praise a little. Please tell him how he’s doing and how good you’re feeling. That he’s handsome and good and most of all: that you love him~ He never gets tired of hearing you say it~

#dc imagine #polka dot man #gender neutral reader #abner krill #abner krill x reader #polka dot man x reader #dc headcanons

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