#clement mansell look

[boydholbrook-fan]

Boyd attends the Q&A event for 'A Complete Unknown' on November 23, 2024 in NYC

I also had to make gifs out of the video.

He looks sooo good! He's incredible! He's a handsome man! He's the best and I love him and admire him so much! And I’m so happy to see him doing well! ❤️🥰🌟

And I just can’t help myself but I can see a Clement Mansell/Donald Pierce look a little.

[boydholbrook-fan]

That Clement Mansell look. 🌟❤️🔥😍🥰

Beautiful gifs by Lili @ilovewhiteroses. As always. 🥰❤️

Boyd GIFs from his 'Vengeance' era - made by me

[fairweathermyth]

Since I'm out of ideas, question is, who's the mark? Well... I did have a thought on that.

JUSTIFIED: CITY PRIMEVAL 1.05 You Good?

[boydholbrookfanpage]

[spider-bren]

The Feminization of Clement Mansell Part 2 | Clement Mansell x OC Male

Inspired by this twitter post

Read: The Feminization of Clement Mansell Part 1:

Pairing: Clement Mansell x Male OC (Ryan) Tags: Clement Mansell is his own warning, Clement in lace underwear, Clement in a costume, Eddie Munson cosplay, reference to Stranger Things, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Clem gets called 'babygirl' Summary: Clement has lace underwear on underneath the cheerleading costume he wore to a Halloween party. His boyfriend, Ryan, goes insane...

"You got underwear on under this," Ryan ran his hands down Clement's body breathlessly. "How come I didn't see it?"

"Because I just pushed it to the side while I fucked you."

Ryan furrowed his brows as he ran his hands over Clement's long, long legs. "I didn't even notice it as I was touching your tits."

"You were overwhelmed by me," he laughed. "It's okay baby. You can take your time now and look at me."

The underwear was in a pastel blue colour. Lace. Trimmed. Cut just perfectly. He wasn't sure how Clement fit all that into the little underwear he was wearing. He was big, bulging, leaking onto the the thin fabric. Ryan's mouth watered at the sight. He wanted Clement in his mouth. Wanted to feel his cock over the material. Wanted to feel his cum run down his throat. He could still feel the cum that dripped out of him from when they fucked earlier. Ryan couldn't help himself from reaching for his boyfriend again and yanking off the croptop. He stripped Clement out of the cheerleader outfit so he was just in the underwear. God, he looked so pretty. Men shouldnt look as pretty as him. Ryan felt his cock twitch again with renewed interest. His wig was fucking messed up. Tendrils tangled in every which way. Clement nearly yanked if off his head. He supposed that would hurt since it was glued onto his scalp. He was still naked and he looked to where his costume got discarded. He stared at the denim cut off jacket for too long, thinking.

"Wear my jacket?" he asked, slightly nervous. He had seen Steve Harrington wear it in the show and people shipped Eddie and Steve. It was kinda hot if he got to see Clement wearing something of his. Feeling like Clement belonged to him.

"Your jacket?" Clement searched around for it. "This?" He picked up the leather one.

"No, no. The denim. The cut off. I wanna see you in it with the underwear."

Clement reached over and slipped it on. Ryan stared at how it was small on his large frame. The ends of it coming to his mid-section. Ryan was smaller and shorter than Clement. He loved seeing Clement squeeze into his clothes sometimes. He'd find Clement in his hoodies or a pair of his shorts around the house. It suited him. The demin somehow matching the lace cut of the bra he was wearing. Ryan surged upwards and pulled Clement by his neck into a kiss.

"Fuck, you got me so hard, Clem," he moaned into his mouth.

"You like me like this, pretty boy?"

"You're the pretty one," he laughed and ran his hands over his toned chest.

He nipped at Clement's ear and kissed down his neck. Making sure to mark him with love bites and teeth marks. Clement moaned as he licked into that spot at the bottom of his neck that was sensitive. Ryan's hands gripped onto Clement's hips and set Clement into the smaller boy's lap. His long legs wrapped around him. Clement rocked into his lap, cocks meeting together making them both sigh and moan. He played with Clement's hair in the way that he liked and the older man shuddered as Ryan bit his lip.

"Wanna fuck me again?" Clement drawled, sucking on his lips.

Ryan was already moving his hand down to draw the underwear aside so that he could finger Clement's already used hole. He loved the first press inside, how warm it was. How Clement welcomed him into his body. He was everything he could have imagined for himself. Clement was perfect. His perfect little boy. He sure was no one got to see him this way. No one ever would. It was reserved for Ryan's eyes only. For Ryan's hands and lips and body to feast on.

"Can I call you babygirl?" Ryan flushed as Clement forced himself down on Ryan's fingers.

"Baygirl?" Clement bit his lip. His eyes rolled back in his head. Ryan massaged his prostate and then eased off so Clement could answer. "You really takin' this role play far, huh? But okay. Whatever makes my boy happy."

"Really?" Ryan's eyes lit up. "Because I'm gonna fuck you so hard right now." He gripped his cock and entered Clement with a groan, insides clenching around him, the slip of him warm and intoxcating.

This hardly ever happened. When Clement allowed him into his body. And Ryan was grateful for it.

"Let's see how hard I can make you cum," said Ryan into Clement's sweaty neck. "Fuck yourself on my cock, babygirl. That's it. Good girl."

Clement moaned, his back arching, his hips working faster. "Careful, don't push it."

But he could see the way Clement's neck flushed, the tips of his ears tinting red and the way his breath came out faster.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Ryan kissed his neck sweetly.

[ahli-stuff]

I want to put clement mansell and ty shaw in a room and watch them fist fight to see who would win

[always-andromeda]

funny how shit works…🤔

funny how i can say that the white boy from narcos is so fine and you be like “EW NO🤢”

and then it only took one gifset on one summer day for that to change

shhhhh we don’t talk about my ignorant era…

[bobbole]

@windsweptinred dear, the time travel idea is absolutely stunning and I adore it!! 💓💓 I agree wholeheartedly, I am particularly tickled too by seeing Daniel interacting with the First Corinthian and in this regard I remember reading a writing prompt a while back that made me think of a funny scenario: Morpheus, having retired to live in the Waking World, has taken the First Corinthian with him as his guardian (both have feelings for each other without these ever being revealed). They have to meet and go on some mission together with Daniel and the Second (which act practically as a married couple without realizing it). Various screwups happen, with the First trying to flirt with Daniel to make Morpheus jealous; the Second being on the verge of cutting his predecessor's throat out of jealousy; Morpheus just wanting to enjoy his retirement in peace; and Daniel, as a good millennial, not understanding what the heck is going on!

Your idea for the fake/forced marriage is also amazing!! 👌👌👌 this is one of my favorite tropes, I was also thinking of a story in which Daniel is (for some strange reasons) forced to take a consort so he asks for help from his very own trusted Nightmare, who although dying at the mere thought of someone taking Daniel away from him, decides to help in the search. But all the candidates turn out to be inadequate and in the end Daniel realizes that the ideal consort he was looking for and had in mind is indeed the Corinthian 😭💐👰

I was thinking also of something darker, actually I have this idea set in a psychiatric penitentiary, where Corinthian is interned for obvious reasons, and where Daniel is interned too (by mistake? who knows). The boy immediately attracts the attention of our serial killer, initially for unvirtuous motives but then because the Corinthian realizes that this boy with angelic, delicate features can be as merciless and bloodthirsty as he is. Love and gore galore (and an escape, as befits the most romantic love stories 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨)

P. S. can't wait to read the new chapter of TOTW, the idea of using the Walker siblings memories is really great!!!! 🔝

corinthiel au: what scenarios/tropes do you think would be perfect for our beloved boys? ❤️

Oooohhh, so many. But one that's been rotating in my mind recently is Time travel shinnanigans. Essentially... A Dream switch.

Pick up Morpheus and put him after the fact, say even during the time of Nightmare Country when everything has settled down into a new normality. And put Daniel into Dolls House/Lost Hearts. Morpheus with the new Corinthian (2.0) and Daniel with the original... Trying to find their way back to where they should be. Imagine the exploration into characters and the compare and contrast of Corintheus and Corinthiel you could do! Not to mention the deep, slowly burn realisation the Corinthian's/ Dream's can come to. Being presented with an alternate version of the other, the same yet different. And coming to understand/ appreciate their own all the more for it. You could also really have fun playing with the world at large around them, how Dream siblings, residents of the Dreaming etc would react to the return of Morpheus and the arrival of Daniel.

(I'd actually been contemplating using a similar kind of conversation exchange in the Winter chapter of TOTW, using the Walker siblings memories....My mind is obbsessing over Daniel interacting with the the original version of the Corinthian.)

Another one for funsies 🤔... Fake/forced marriage all the way. The arrival of a new Dream has all the advantageous suitors banging at the castle doors. Daniel has enough on his plate to deal with, without this. And it's slowly sending the Corinthian into a maddening protective/possessive frenzy. The answer, well because of some ancient law (cough made up bollocks Daniel came up with in the fly cough) and their complicated history, The Corinthian actually laid claim to Daniel somewhere down the line, so technically he's already engaged... Definitely off the marriage market... Sorry, what can you do? Lol.

Cue the usual hijinks of each having the other but thinking their true feelings aren't returned. Despite it being obvious to everyone else and their second cousin once removed that they're crazy for each other. Extra points if the Corinthian has no clue it's a ruse, sending him into spiraling thoughts about how knowingly or not, he's 'trapped' Daniel. The selfish intent must have been there. Is he really any better then his previous incarnation?

How about you @bobbole . Any tropes you'd love to see? 😁

[toxicanonymity]

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.

[evenmyhivemindisempty]

if the boys were to propose to someone,how would they go about it?

Steve Murphy: Aw, Steve’s an old fashioned sort. He does the proposal the classic way - he calls the dad for permission, then takes his SO out on a nice picnic and gets on one knee. He does get a little teary eyed during his (brief) speech. I feel like overall Steve is not a romantic, but marriage is important to him, at least for what it represents!

Donald Pierce: Oh Pierce would go insane trying to make it perfect. He secretly measures their ring size in the dead of night. He snoops on their phone to gather data about what kind of rings they’ve been looking at. He spends weeks cataloguing their interests and preferences in order to engineer the Perfect Date. He looks kind of manic by the time he drops to his knee. THE THING IS, he didn’t even have to stress half as much, because I bet he wouldn’t propose unless his partner has already mentioned they’d like to get married/they’ve had a positive conversation about next steps!! This proposal is not a surprise and yet he is sweating bullets.

Cap Hatfield: Cap’s so sweet about it! He hands his partner a basket of flowers he’s gathered and maybe a piece of heirloom jewelry from his family, and kind of shyly asks if they’d like to marry him. He’ll make a capable and dutiful husband, he knows it!

Clement Mansell: Oh it’s big fucking production. It’s in public, for starters, and good money says he’s also hired a whole band and a fancy photographer. The bling is INSANE. It’s a huge rock, probably surrounded by other smaller stones (his birthstone and his partner’s birthstone because he thinks he’s being ROMANTIC). He’s *so* effusive about how in love he is, and how his partner will make an honest(ish) man out of him (he totally says this with a cheeky little smile).

The Corinthian: The Corinthian would do it on a whim. He’s in Vegas, and he tugs on his date’s/prey’s arm when they pass a glitzy casino chapel and suggests they tie the knot. Why not! If he didn’t have glasses on, he’d be winking.

Eli Klaber: Oh, no. No, no. Klaber does not propose. Klaber gets proposed to.

Ty Shaw: Ty brings his SO somewhere secluded for a quiet, intimate conversation. He tells them he’s been thinking about marriage in a very no-pressure sort of way, and if they agree he goes to a knee and and procures the ring he bought a month ago.

Quinn McKenna: Ideally, Quinn waits until they’ve both already clearly established they wanna get married, and then they go to some jewelry stores together to see what his partner likes (I don’t think this happened with Emily though). Quinn does get on his knee because that’s the Thing to Do; he’s not very emotional at all when he asks, but he does bust out a big grin when they say yes.

[breedaboyd]

Smells — What do the different Boyds smell like?

Billy: Wears a cologne with notes of coriander, Italian lemon and oranges but this tends to be drowned out by the constant smell of chlorine that clings to his skin, not that he minds particularly.

Cap Hatfield: Cologne isn't really a thing so you're just left with his natural scent. He tends to smell mainly of sweet tobacco, whiskey, sawdust (particularly from sugar maple and hickory) and gunpowder. Despite not being able to do much in terms of his scent, he smells incredible, especially when he's been working all day and he's all sweaty and musky.

Cary James: Cary loves his colognes and his perfumes so he can smell vastly different from day to day. That being said, his favourite is a more feminine scent with jasmine, rose and vanilla. You can tell when he's been in a room as he tends to leave a lingering scent behind.

Clement Mansell: Though he may look like a filthy rat man, Clem smells surprisingly good. Although it might be overwhelmed by cigarette smoke most of the time, up close and personal, he smells of honey, sweet bourbon and roses. And he tastes just as good.

Corinthian: Corin — and, by extension, the inside of his car — smells of amber, cashmere wood and grapefruit. Obviously, this is undercut by the scent of leather from the leather upholstery of his car and sometimes the acrid smell of blood.

Don Pierce: Don is not much for things like colognes or anything like that. He's the kind of guy that would walk into a drug store, pick up the first bottle he found and use that, doesn't matter if it smells good. Fortunately for him though, it does smell good, with elements of orange blossom, white cedar and musk. It pairs especially well with the scent of gunmetal.

Eli Klaber: Voller (or Stephan) once got Klaber a bottle of cologne for his birthday and he's never stopped using it. With notes of cypress, eucalyptus and fresh ginger, his scent is made entirely his with the added smells of steel, gunpowder and WD-40.

John McBride: Leather, oak moss, dirt, antiseptic and blood. John tries his best to smell good but, given his specialty in pathology (and part-time werewolf slaying), he regularly struggles to stay on top of it.

Mo Lundy: Doesn't really care about those kinds of things as they seem quite superficial to him. Generally, he tends to smell of fresh water, cheap soap and a kind of warm, homey musk. It's simple but it's all him and he still manages to smell really good.

Quinn McKenna: His wife did get him a bottle of cologne once but that got used less and less as they drifted apart. Now he tends to smell of cheap deodorant, sweat and gunmetal (unless he's going to an event that requires his full-dress uniform).

Steve Murphy: Steve takes pride in his appearance and part of that is how he smells. His favourite cologne has notes of bergamot, cardamom and lavender but, all that being said, in the Columbian sun and with how much he smokes, the cologne is usually overwhelmed by cigarette smoke and sweat, leaving the cologne as an afterthought on his skin.

[boydholbrook-fan]

Boyd at the San Diego Comic-Con in 2022 in an Collider interview for The Sandman

He's cute. He's adorable. He's lovely. He's wonderful. He's incredible. He's handsome. He's a phenomenal and an exceptional talent. He's just simply THE BEST! And I love him and admire him so much! ❤️

BOYD HOLBROOK IS A LEGEND!

And here's a little clip from the interview:

[boydholbrook-fan]

Yes! Indeed! ❤️❤️❤️ Can’t get enough of Boyd’s Clement Mansell look! Can’t resist the Clem look! 🥰🥰🥰 Thank you for the mention, Lili! @ilovewhiteroses 💕💕💕 Amazing gifs, as always!

Boyd talks about 'Vengeance' - GIFs by me

@boydholbrook-fan he has the Clem look😍

[oh-three]

Justified CP S1E8:

The look in Raylan's eyes as he sees who had the Albanians come after him and Mansell.

Well, at least they let him go. They totally should've killed Clement. Hey, they even gave him his things back, look at that.

Anyway, Clement's officially lost it.

Yesssssss, they're going after Maureen. And, of course, her family has no idea what she's done. Good on Bryl for telling her they're not dealing with it in front of them.

She was totally in the book. Holy shit, she got mean.

Raylan confronting the idea that oh yeah, he wanted to go home after he's fallen in love. P A I N.

Anddd, Clement got out. I wonder how.

Skender's gonna get himself killed.

Oh, Lmfao. Skender, you idiot, you let him out.

UNHINGED

Ayyy, at least he spared the old man. That's something.

dramatically shatters window

No way this plays out exactly like that one guy's story. Is Raylan just gonna shoot him while he drinks?

HOLY SHIT, HE DID.

He quit. He actually quit. I can't even believe it, I'm surprised.

Also, congrats, Judge Wilder. 🍺

Holy shit, they brought Winona back. Definitely didn't expect that.

Helen had a boat?

Father-daughter bonding ❤️

HOLY SHIT IT'S BOYD. HE'S BARELY AGED A DAY. AND HE LITERALLY HASN'T CHANGED, I LOVE IT.

LMFAO, he's getting broken out. They have to continue Justified, whether an extension of the original or as CP. I wanna know where this goes next.

We have been blessed with cameos we didn't think we'd get. OG Justified fans, we've won.

[boydholbrookfanpage]

Boyd Holbrook as Clement Mansell | First Look - Justified: City Primeval July 17, 2023

[spider-bren]

Dangerous Desires Part 2 | Clement Mansell x Female Reader

@ilovewhiteroses asked for this. Here you go, sweetness. Thank you to @penguiqueen-blog for beta'ing my work and who typed all this up for me because I hand wrote most of it!!

This is a continuation of ‘Dangerous Desires’.

Summary of Dangerous Desires Part 1: Reader works at the casino where Sandy works. Clement sees reader at the bar and they end up sleeping together in an elevator. He also stays the night at her apartment.

Pairing: Clement Mansell x Fem!Reader Tags: Sexual Content, PIV sex, Kitchen sex, Dirty Talk, Masturbation Summary: Reader and Clement sleep together in Clement's apartment. Clement finds himself distracted by thoughts of you...

"Hey Sweety, you have a 50 on you?" Clement asked, pushing his glasses back up his nose. He leaned on the open window of Sweety's car and grabbed the note from him.

He slipped it in his back pocket and entered the flower shop. It wasn't much of a flower guy, but he knew he had to make some of gesture, a taunt for the Mashal. Because he had him now. Him and Sweety's plan was setting sail this afternoon when they collected money from Burt. The whole town would fall prey to their scheme and Clement's pockets would be filled with cash. He picked out a few flowers here and there. It didn't have to mean anything. An ex once told him that flowers meant something. There was this whole other language told through flowers, with their colours and scents and origins. Clement was sure to bipass any roses in case dear Raylan got the wrong idea of the message he was trying to send.

He rounded the corner and spotted a familar face. Clement recognised the woman from the bar. The one who had had thoughly fucked against in the elavator. He remembered seeing you for the first time and not being able to stop himself from taking you right then and there. He couldn't even wait two more floors. Once inside your apartment he never let his hands off of you. Clement felt his cock stirring at the memory of being inside you. He walked over to you, dazzling smile on his face.

"Hey there, darlin'. what brings you here?"

"Oh. Hi, Clement. I'm just buying flowers for this woman who works with me. Her grandma passed so I thought I'd buy her something to make her smile."

"That's so thoughtful of you." He leaned in, body so close to touching yours. "Hey, you remember our time together, don't ya? How I stayed between your legs for hours. You were so good, baby."

"I do remember you. How could I not?" you told him. "I thought you were good as well."

"Hm." He cocked his head to the side, eyes glinting up with mischief and mirth. "So good you wanna do it again? You could swing by my apartment tonight? I have a meeting this afternoon, but nothing in the evening. Or the morning. I could be all yours."

You pressed your lips together, thinking of a night filled with passion and Clement's hands on you. You closed your eyes and tried to picture yourself in his apartment. Was this a good idea? No, it was a terrible idea. You hardly knew this man. You only knew his name and how his breath felt against your neck. But something pulled you to him, something in you craved to be in his presence as dangerous and thrilling as it was.

"Okay," you replied.

"I'll be looking forward to it."

You exchanged numbers and he said he would text you the address. You didn't see him the rest of the day.

***

A text popped up on your phone with the address. Entering Clement's apartment you could tell he wanted nothing more than to forgo the ridiculous introductions and greetings. He quickly dragged you by the hand through the living room and into the kitchen, showing you the space he lived in. He leaned against the counter, drawing you into his arms, hands on your waist.

"Nice place," you commented, not knowing what else to say.

He hummed and started kissing your neck. His lips pressed on your pulse point, your breath quickening as he licked the line of collarbone. It was all so familiar. The heat. The scent of him. The weight of his hands on your body trailing upwards to pull your shirt off.

"Missed you, doll," he drawled before he yanked off your shirt. Your skin was feverish as he glided his large palms across your stomach.

He chuckled deeply as he swept his hands towards your back. His lips met yours--mouth savouring each lip, first the top, then the bottom, dragging it into his mouth to suck and nibble. He kissed you as if he had been starved. His wet tongue pushed into your mouth and curled into every crevice making your knees buckle and your body sway towards him. He was tall, way taller than you. Your bare body reached the buckle of his belt. There's still so much of him. So much to touch and trace. You wanted your hands on all of him.

He leaned down, deepening the kiss, harder and more forced, ragged breaths every time your lips parted. You could feel it. Feel how affected he was just kissing you. His jeans were so tight the bulge was prominant. Your mouth watered at the sight, remembering the feel and weight of it in your mouth. You heard him sigh as your fingers played with his hair and caressed his scalp. He seemed to love your nails scratching the nape of his neck. There was a spot that got him shivering and pushing a moan into your mouth. With a quick flip of his fingers he unclasped your bra. He pulled it down your arms until it landed on the floor. He pulled away from your lips to mouth your neck again, his hands coming to cup your breasts in his hands, skillful fingers tweaking your nipples.

"I remember that sound you make when you're close," he murmered, mouth drawing to close around your left nipple. He hummed, the sound sending vibrations through you. You bucked into his touch.

"I wonder how easily I can make you cum. If I could get you off with just playing with you like this."

He teased you by grazing his teeth over your erect nipple, beard scraping over your soft, hot flesh. You moaned, dragging his head closer.

"I want to hear you, that gasp you make when you're on the edge… fuck, it gets me so hard."

You were already so turned on. Underwear dripping, soaking through the fabric. He couldn't. Could he? Not like this. No one had ever got you to finish so quickly. It was impossible. Clement was certainly trying. Hands working. Tongue lapping. Your body shook with all the pleasure. He grunted. Your moans made him frustrated. Impatient.

"I know I said I wanna make you cum but Daddy wants to be inside you so badly. I missed the way you feel on my cock. You were so perfect babygirl."

Without protest from you, he picked your small body with ease onto the counter behind him. He towered over you, your legs coming to bracket around him. You locked your legs around his middle. He tutted and peeled it away from his body, your legs dangling in the air, his hands firmly grasping your hips.

"I have to undress you first. Want you to show me your perfect little pussy. Bet she tastes just as amazing as last time."

He made quick work of pulling your pants and underwear off. Before long you were exposed to him, slick dripping onto the counter.

"Look at you," he purred. He gathered up your slick as he glided his hands through your folds. He inserted two of his large fingers inside you and hushed you as you made a noise from the stretch.

"Shush, darlin' I know you can take it. Gotta make sure you can handle my cock. It's been a while. Gonna get you nice and loose first." His mouth descended on your throbbing clit. You cried out as his fingers thrust and set a pace inside you.

You were trembling from the praise, from the other hand gripping your thighs, your legs thrown over his shoulders. It rushed through you unexpectedly, a deep chuckle vibrating against you as that sound you made flew out your mouth.

"There's my girl," he sai, coaxing you through your high.

You couldn't focus on anything but the pleasure. Your body lax and drained. He drew your body closer, cock already pressing against your sopping entrance.

"I got ya. Look at me, baby. Look at me."

You forced your eyes open to stare into his blue ones. He forced himself inside in one fluid motion. Your hands gripped his shoulders, his hips already drawing out to fuck back into you. He shuddered and moaned as talked you through it, telling you how good were, how you felt clenching around him, how he couldn't wait to see his cum run out of your hole. You had never experienced sex like this before and you never could again. Only Clement Mansell could make you feel like this.

He fucked you on every couch in the living room, every position on his bed, against the door of his closet, in the shower and on the floor even. Your nails had scratched his back open. You discovered he made a sound too when you clawed at the bottom of his back, your hands gripping his perfect ass as you felt him fuck into you. His hair was mused from your fingers. His neck littered with bruises, the same welts and marks from his mouth on your body. There were bruises on your hips and bites on your thighs. He had you from behind, your hair twisted in his hand. He had you in every way imaginable. You could still hear the sound he made when you were so filled with him, loads of cum leaking out of you. He loved to watch his cock go in and out of you. Every moment you were with him you felt you couldn't bear the thought of leaving him.

"I have to go to work this morning, Clem," you said, pulling yourself reluctantly out of his arms.

"But baby, I have a whole day planned for us." He pouted and tried to drag you back into bed.

"Like what?"

"Like you could do that thing with your tongue that I like so much." He grinned that smile that made your heart clench.

You sighed and kissed him quickly on the lips. "Later," you replied. "I'll see you again?"

"Tonight. After work."

"Deal," you said and went in search of your clothes.

You remembered how he snuggled into you, his head resting on your chest, your fingers carding through his hair. His breaths were even, peaceful as he slept. You found your discarded clothes in the kitchen. You dressed yourself, fixing your hair into something presentable before letting yourself out. Your body was tired, but your mind was wide awake. The rest of the day all you thought about was him.

***

Clement rolled over to your side of the bed. The pillow smelt of you. Your scent. Your sweat. Your cunt. He had made you taste yourself, made you swallow him down under your belly was full. He moaned thinking of your body, how it felt being buried inside you.

"Fuck, doll, I miss you." His cock was hard again and he stroked himself thinking of you. He fisted his hand over himself, already leaking, his moans echoing in the silence of the room.

"Ah," he moaned, voice kicking higher. "I need ya. Need to be with you again. You drive me crazy. Fuck!"

He messed all over himself picturing your face as he came. He cursed again. He mumbled into the pillow, still rutting against the sheets. It wasn't enough. If he fucked you into the next two weeks it wasn't enough. A month? No, he still wouldn't be satisfied.

How was he going to ask you stay?