#jolly coded

[reyadawn]

Workin' From Home - A Jolly Karlsson One Shot

*image not mine, credit goes to owner*

Summary: Jolly is hard at work in his office trying to record guitar segments but his first time pregnant wife won't stop sending distracting text messages. He finally snaps...

Pairings: Joakim "Jolly" Karlsson x pregnant reader

Warnings: 🔞+, language, kissing, choking, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, basically pure unadulterated filth sprinkled with humor 🤷‍♀️🤣😭

Word Count: ???

Enjoy! 🤣✌️

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Jolly had been holed up in his office for the better part of the day. He was in the process of trying to record some requested guitar segments for a demo he and Noah were working on. Whether it made it to the album or not didn't necessarily matter. It still needed to be done regardless.

The coffee table in the darkly shrouded office was littered with Monster energy drinks, a half opened bag of Doritos, solo red cups all half full and Jolly's laptop. The screen's light was the only thing that illuminated his handsome features. Decked entirely in all black - skinny jeans with a massive hole in the left knee exposing his umarred skin and black t-shirt that showcased the tattoo sleeve and fingers of his left arm. His signature dark hair was pulled back into a messy bun.

BZZZZ

Jolly rolled his eyes for what felt like the thousandth time in the past hour before pulling his cellphone from the tight confines of his jeans' pocket. The face iluminated instantly, his skin taking on an even more ethreal glow.

Gumman: ...I need those expert fingers knuckle deep inside my tight little cunt while your thumb rubs my clit until I cum all over you...🥵

Jolly had mistakenly reached for a solo cup to take a drink when he read the message, choking on a half swallow and almost doubling over into a coughing fit.

Jesus fucking Christ, this woman was going to kill him. Literally. Jolly's fingers quickly typed a response once he got his breathing under control.

I'm still working, karaste. Give me a few.

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

I frowned disappointingly at Jolly's response and sighed, rubbing my very swollen belly, my thighs pressing together to try and ease the ache I felt for him. All I could think about was getting railed. Day in, day out. Didn't matter where, I needed Jolly's thick cock like I needed fucking water after running a damn marathon. Pretty sure if I didn't stop having him bruise my cervix constantly, he was liable to get fucked into a coma but this last leg of pregnancy hormones was brutal. Didnt help our daughter was so active now, she was practically brusing my insides.

I bit my lip, firing back another text.

Please, handsome...I'm going to wither and die because you won't fucking feed me! Now, get your sexy Sweedish ass in here and fuck me until I can't walk! 😒

All of a sudden I heard a loud bout of laughter come from the opposite end of the house and I smirked, hope burning in my chest until his next message came through.

I will service you in a little bit, karaste, I promise but I really need to get this done for Noah ❤️

I sighed, tossing my phone angrily on the nightstand, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and stood to strip out of everything I had on. My leggings and oversized Bad Omens t-shirt I stole from Jolly's side of the closet landed in a soft heap on the floor. I snatched my phone off the table, taking a few unabashed nude shots as best as I was able before sending them all to him at once.

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

Jolly's phone buzzed again, causing him to let out a string of cuss words in Sweedish. Opening his wife's text message, he halted his movements, cock instantly growing hard at what he saw.

"Fucking little minx...alright, karaste. If you want to be a brat, I'll treat you like a damn brat", Jolly said to himself, running his tongue over his teeth before slamming the lid of the laptop, standing and throwing the office door open.

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

I retreated from the bathroom, now clad in just my t-shirt and was halfway to the bed when Jolly rounded the door frame and stopped. I halted, staring at him in shock as I took in his pissed off demeanor. Lean but muscular arms crossed over his wide chest, feet slightly parted and a look on his face that read I was about to get fucked until I blacked out or yelled at...afterall, I had been a brat most of the day.

"So, you felt like being a fucking brat all day, is that it? Just couldn't be a good girl and be patient even for a few minutes so I could finish my work? You just had to keep pushing me, sweet karaste", Jolly said darkly, eyes nrrowing. I swallowed nervously. These were all rhetorical questions, right?

"It's not my fault you think Noah is more important than this tight pussy you've been getting. Perhaps he would do the job more credibly", I snapped before realizing my mistake. My eyes widened and I tried retreating for the bathroom again but being this far along had me moving like molasses. Jolly reached me in three strides, hand shooting out to wrap around my throat and back me up against the wall.

I stared up at Jolly in shock and before I could say anything, his lips crashed to mine in a uncerimonious kiss that was teeth, tongues, and saliva. He pulled away, a sinnister smile gracing his gorgeous features. I was currently crying between my legs, my thick arousal dripping like a faucet that wasn't quite turned off all the way. My clit throbbed almost painfully and my cunt clenched around nothing, causing me to whimper.

"Please, Jolly", I whispered, begging him.

"For what, sweet girl? Use your words", Jolly replied, his voice laced with venom. I whimpered again, my bottom lip trembling. He tipped his head back and laughed as his free hand went right between my legs, despite my large belly and sank two thick fingers inside my soaked cunt to his knuckles. I closed my eyes, letting out a moan of want and pleasure and it had Jolly moaning right along with me.

"Goddamn, sweet girl...you really did need some care...here, let me help you some more", he whispered, bringing his lips to my ear. His tongue extended, the tip licking the shell delicately before he applied pressure to my swollen clit with his thumb and started fucking me with his fingers. Curling them against the spongy part inside me as he furiously rubbed my clit had me seeing stars as my walls clamped down around his fingers and my thighs caged around his hand. I couldnt hold back the scream, my orgasm hitting me like a MAC truck.

Jolly suddenly pulled out of me, bringing his fingers to his lips to suck the juices from them and I cried out at the loss. With his hand still around my throat, he moved me from the wall to bend over his dresser. The height was perfect and he placed me in such a way that my stomach didnt touch anything.

There were no warnings, no preliminaries, no nothing as Jolly grabbed my hips and thrust his cock inside me until he bottomed out. I cried out, arching my back. One of Jolly's hands left my hip to wrap, once again, around my throat as his cock shuttled in and out of my dripping cunt. My thighs were soaked, legs were shaking as Jolly pulled my back to his front, continuing to relentlessly fuck his cock inside me. Each thrust had him hitting my cervix, my eyes rolling back and my breathing becoming labored.

"You gonna' cum again for me, karaste? Huh? This what you want...to be a brat and have me take you like this? Come on, baby...give me all you got", Jolly said harshly, snapping his hips so hard insie me he stopped, cock pulsing, coming deep as he roared out his release and triggered my own. My fingers gripped the wood as I opened my mouth on a silent scream, the coil snapping.

Once we were able to catch our breath, Jolly slowly pulled his cock free of my body and carefully helped me to the bed so I could stretch out on my side. He then disappeared into the bathroom and returned momets later with a damp wash cloth and helped me clean up. He then crawled into bed behind me, wrapping his arm around my belly protectively before planting a soft kiss to my hair. We were both asleep in minutes...

❤️❤️❤️

@anangelinthepit @amourtoken @bloodylullaby @bluestdai @collidewiththesavannah @concreteangel92 @english-fucker @exitwoundsx @fadingintothegrey @flowery-mess @concreteemo @iamamatus @iluvmewwwww75 @kaliforniahigh @lilhobgobbler @lovexsleepyhead @millie-aubs @philomenie @sacredthefran @starsomens @somewhere-diamond @somebodyllelse @tikosblogg @thisbicc @xcllnt @xxrainstorm @xmads-omensx @yarasdead @jilliemiw86 ❤️❤️

[dailydccomics]

late 90s Ivy my beloved monster Catwoman vol 2 #57

[thecoyotescry]

Happy Saturday, gang! Here’s a quick thought for you all 🤭

Dad!Jolly letting his daughter braid is hair. They could be the world’s most loose, lopsided ones, but he’s wearing them with pride. “You did such a good job on my hair, I love it so much,” he’d say to her, without even looking in a mirror.

Dad!Jolly would also let her paint his fingernails, and again, he’s rocking whatever color they decide to do. He’s most definitely gone out on stage with bright pink or yellow or turquoise nails that pop against their all black attire. When he gets compliments on them from an interviewer or during a meet and greet, he immediately says “thank you, my daughter painted them. she’s really good, right?”

He’s just always complimenting them and supporting them at all times!

[yakool-foolio]

Got three new buddies for Christmas!

And of course I took advantage of the interchangeable teru teru bōzu >:)

I also have Shini and Halara on my shoulder bag!

It's a rainy day today, too! Good rain and happy holidays everyone!

[sobersonder]

I got bored... So, decided to draw these two!

[pink-white-n-blue]

Late Christmas hoe hoe hoe pics because I'm definitely not being blackmailed by the ghost of Christmas future into being jolly maxed and cheer coded all year round :3

[sweetjollylooks]

[birdcatt]

Started playing EotS cuz of you (knowing Darkrai played a role also had a hand in it) and OOOOUUUGHHH IM SCREAMING

Thank you for introducing this game to me via my browsing the Darkrai tag

THATS AWESOME!!!!!! it makes me really happy to hear that i was the source of getting someone else into a thing i like

admittedly i dont play a lot of eos romhacks, and eots is the 2nd one ive completed, but its great!!!!!!! the start was admittedly confusing and, at first, not that fun to me when i first started (hero get your aggression under control!!! damn!!!!!) but once i actually got past that, it was great! i rewatched the ending several times, and when i wanted to see my skitty hero instead of the yter's hero, just recorded it myself LOL and then watched the cutscene

(lettie and didi's actual in-game names are Leditor and Pudding! leditor as in level editor because i was streaming to a modding community when i restarted and we were bein goofy. this did not take away the emotional impact)

ANYWAYS glad theres another eots player around!!!!! its so <3 it consumed my brain for a few days

playing as your hero and partner pair ever will make eots emotionally hit you harder. thats my recommendation. i could Feel the missed potential impact bc i used an entirely new team (never had skitty or totodile before! mainly totodile!)

[daily-rs-redux-au-edition]

more doodles

[townpostin]

Sawan Mahotsav Brings Monsoon Cheer to Jamshedpur Women

Hundreds gather for festive celebration; Sandhya Chaudhary crowned ‘Sawan Queen’ The Jolly Group’s Sawan Mahotsav at Hotel Ganga Regency attracted hundreds of women for a day of monsoon festivities. JAMSHEDPUR – The Jolly Group hosted a vibrant Sawan Mahotsav at Hotel Ganga Regency, drawing hundreds of women for monsoon-themed celebrations. Participants donned green sarees with matching makeup,…

[reyadawn]

My Protector

*image not mine, credit goes to owner*

Summary: Joakim "Jolly" Karlsson. VP of Bad Omens notorious MC in Los Angeles, California. Loyal to a "T" and tough as nails...until she started working as one of the new bartenders and completely broke through his walls.

Pairings: Joakim "Jolly" Karlsson x Reader

Warnings: 🔞+, language, kissing, hair pulling, fingering, breeding!kink, praise!kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), creampie

Word Count: 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Dedicated to @philomenie 🤭🤭 Hope you're thoroughly fed after this!

Enjoy ✌️❤️

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Bad Omens. Known to L.A as one of the most notorious and reputable motorcycle chapters. However, they weren't your typical sterotype. They helped out in the community, always donating or helping to set up fundraisers for kids and other various events around the city. Funnily enough, it also happens to be the name of the heavy metal rock band they perform as.

I had just moved to California, having needed a fresh start from a nasty divorce. I probably could have stayed back east but the painful memories that were left had me shutting the door on that part of my life. I found a job as a bartender at a quaint hole-in-the-wall establishment called Third Base. Upon first seeing the signage I had burst into hysterics. It was definitely a man who came up with the name and I wanted nothing more than to clap the guy on his back and give him a medal for creativity.

BBZZZZ! BBZZZZ!

I groaned, rolling over in bed, sheets half tangled around my legs to turn off the alarm blaring annoyingly at me from my phone. I sighed, flopping back against the pillows and glancing out my window between sheer purple curtains. It was semi-light outside but it wouldn't be that way for long. The bar opened at 6:00pm and Misty, the manager, needed me there at 5:30pm to start training. Not that I needed any, I had quite a bit of experience.

I untangled myself from the sheets and meandered into the bathroom for a shower. My clothes were already laid out on the bathroom counter from earlier in the day. I hosed off and stepped out, wrapping the towel around my breasts and I cringed momentarily at the body staring back at me before towel drying my hair. I normally threw it up but descided to leave it down, letting it cascade down between my shoulder blades. I hurridly got dressed, donning a purple Bad Omens tank top, black yoga pants and biker boots. I quickly threw on lipgloss and body spray, grabbing my phone and heading down the hall to grab my purse and keys.

Reaching down, I gave my forrest cat Orion a good scratch behind his ears and I was out the door. Luckily, my apartment was on the ground floor and my silver Malibu was parked right out front. The bar was just a couple of blocks over so it wouldn't take long to get there.

L.A. definitely looked different at night. Lights from businesses and restaurants lit the sky like diamonds and more people seemed to come out of the woodwork. The bar's parking lot was already full as I approached, driving around back to where the staff parked. The side of the building had quite a few motorcycles parked side by side and one in particular caught my eye.

The bike, which happened to be a Harley-Davidson Dyna-Glide Super Glide Sport, was a sleek and glossy black without so much as a scratch on it. I smirked. How very Sons of Anarchy this entire lineup was as I turned the corner and went inside.

The bar was filled to capacity as waitresses walked the floor with trays to serve drinks, appetizers and dinner. Most of the patrons were bikers, some from the Bad Omens chapter, others from Dayseeker mixed with a few regular civilians.

I barely got behind the bar, wrapping an apron around my waist when Misty came barreling out of the side door with two trays, one in each hand, grey hair wild about her face and shoulders.

"Follow me, baby girl. Let's go! Table six, grab a tray", she said as I all but ran to catch up. By the time she and I reached the table, I had earned so many ass slaps that I regretted wearing yoga pants.

"Evenin', boys. How'd the show go last night?", Misty asked, setting bottles of beer down in front of a group of bikers. Glancing at each man in turn, I knew what the names meant on thier cuts: Folio and Ruffilo were Prospects, Sebastian was President but my gaze lingered on the VP whose name was Jolly.

Long dark hair pulled half up, sunglasses resting on the top of his head, clean shaven, white t-shirt under his cut showcasing his left arm completely covered in tattoos. All of them sported tattoos although I think the President housed more.

"It was a great turn out. Tons of energy like always", Folio said, taking a healthy drink from the bottle.

"Good to hear. Sorry I missed you boys. Got a bar to run and a newbie to train", Misty replied, elbowing my ribs to break the stare I had on Jolly. She rolled her hazel eyes and I could feel my face grow hot as she and I turned and headed back to the bar, weaving through tables and getting round two of ass slaps. Goddamn bikers.

"In Noah and Jolly's office is an inventory list on a clipboard. Need you to grab it. We need more Vodka, Gin and Amaretto. Shoo, now", Misty said, pushing me down a hallway on the other side of the bar.

"Are you sure I'm even allowed in there?", I asked nervously, turning back to her. Over her shoulder, I could see Jolly getting up from the table, his dark eyes staring right at me as he made his way over. Misty shot me a scowl and I turned again down the hallway past the restrooms, supply closet, kitchen doors and to the last door on the left right by the 'EXIT'.

I cautiously opened the door marked 'OFFICE' and poked my head inside. A large oak desk, framed vinyls on the walls, a brown leather futon and a few filing cabinets were all that decorated the room. Before I could do much more, the door suddenly flew open the rest of the way as a hand wrapped around my upper arm and all but shoved me inside. I whirled around in anger but stopped short when I saw it was Jolly.

"Jolly, what the fuck?", I spat. Jolly's gaze darkened and I took a step back.

"Watch who you speak to, karaste ...remember, you're in my territory", Jolly replied softly. His accent wasn't American, despite the fact he spoke English well. I swallowed thickly, pressing my thighs together. Jolly's gaze dropped to catch the movement and he smirked, approaching me. I suddenly backed up all the way to the desk before the edge had me forcibly sitting on the top.

Jolly stood directly in front of me, forcing my thighs apart to slot his narrow hips between them. I leaned back, palms flat on the desk but Jolly growled, actually fucking growled, and wrapped his hand around my neck to haul me closer to him. Liquid heat pooled in the thin cotton panties I wore, my clit throbbing to life and my walls clenching around nothing.

"What are we going to do about this little attitude of yours, karaste? Hm?", he taunted, fingers squeezing ever so slightly as his other hand grabbed a fistful of my hair to tilt my head back. I blinked and then his lips were on mine. The kiss was slow, deliberate, like he was savouring everything, putting it all to memory. My thighs involuntarily squeezed around his hips as he suddenly broke the kiss, my lips tingling. I whimpered at the loss and Jolly smirked evily before grabbing my yoga pants and hauling them down my legs. My boots stopped them from going further but Jolly simply stepped over them, hardened cock hidden behind denim now pressed firmly against my soaked cunt, the material rubbing against my clit and causing my eyes to roll back.

"Jolly...", I moaned, my own voice sounding wanton. Jesus Christ, I was a mess, practically falling apart for a man I just met. Jolly reached between us to swipe his fingers through the slick that coated my cunt, bringing them to his lips and sucking them clean. Dear God, this man was on the verge of making me entirely unhinged.

He then unbuttoned and unzipped the front of his jeans, pulling a cock into view that was more than impressive.

"Come on, karaste, and open up for me", Jolly said, pushing the head of his cock into my dripping cunt. I tipped my head back, mouth open on a silent moan, as his cock slowly, agonizingly stretched and filled me inch by inch...and there were quite a few inches to be had. Jolly's hands tightened on my hips as he momentarily held himself inside me. It was all I could do not to thrash beneath him, my arms reaching up to wrap around his shoulders.

"J-Jolly...p-please move...please", I whispered, begging him to give me the friction I needed. Jolly brought his lips to mine in response as he slowly pulled his cock out, almost to the head, before slamming it back inside me, nerve endings coming alight. He repeated the act, this time his thumb pressing to my swollen clit and I saw stars, coating his cock and no doubt the front of his jeans.

"Oh, poor baby, you come already? This cock make you feel that good? What a good fucking girl you are", Jolly replied, pulling his lips from mine, his thrusts becoming faster, hips slapping against my dripping cunt. Each drag and pull of his cock had my brain melting until my whole body was buzzing. "Give me more...come on, sweet girl...one more".

Jolly rubbed furious circles over my already overly stimulated clit, his cock now pistoning even faster and harder inside me. My arms gripped his shoulders tighter, my thighs squeezing him harder as my body spiraled into an orgasm so powerful I threw my head back and screamed, my voice echoing around the small office.

"Good girl...oh, such a good girl you are, coming all over my cock...gonna' fill you up, sweet girl...tell me you want me to...tell me to fill this tight cunt of mine...mine...mine", Jolly demanded, hips snapping harshly against me.

"Fill me up...p-please....p-please...I can't", I said, clawing at his cut, nails creating half moons in the leather. Jolly gave one final deep thrust and his cock pulsed as thick ropes of come splashed against my cervix, painting my walls. I tried to scream again as my orgasm hit, but he slapped a hand over my mouth. Jolly kept shuttling his cock inside me, the audible squelching sound of our mixed releases resounding in the room.

"Your cries of pleasure are mine and mine alone", Jolly said, chest heaving as he sucked in gulps of air, mimicking my own ragged breathing. "You're mine. No else gets to see you fall apart like this. No one. Understand? You're mine to protect". I stared at him in shock, only nodding.

Jolly finally stilled and slowly drew his cock free of the tight confines of my still dripping cunt, wincing at the loss of fullness. He carefully stepped over my boots to readjust himself before giving me a lingering kiss, turning and walking out of the office. The quiet click of the door was deafening.

My brain struggled to process the quickie I just had in the office of a bar as I tried to get my breathing under control.

What just happened?

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@concreteemo @concreteangel92 @burgandeerose @philomenie @artificialstardust @amourtoken @bloodylullaby @bluestdai @collidewiththesavannah @dsireland86 @english-fucker @exitwoundsx @flowery-mess @fadingintothegrey @iamamatus @iluvmewwwww75 @kaliforniahigh @lilhobgobbler @lovexsleepyhead @livingdeceasedgirl @sacredthefran @somewhere-diamond @somebodyllelse @yarasdead @lolitasangel

[death-rebirth-senshi]

The problem with doing a strength/faith build in Elden Ring is there are too many strength/faith somber weapons

[remxedmoon]

What are your thoughts on ISAT's magic system?

AUTISM BLAST

okay long rambly post incoming. for the record like 90% of this is pure unfiltered headcanon. and almost all of this is about colors. sorry if this is hard to follow!!! i need to get this all out of my system.

oh also! a lot of this is based on a really good post by @/chronologically-challenged that shows off the differences between each character’s craft style! go check that out it’s really good

okay!! so!!! colors. this is just my own thing, but i personally like to color code the different types of craft!

don’t worry about those middle tones yet just put a pin in those

there’s still a little bit of color variety within craft types (for flavor), but generally, rock is blue, paper is yellow, and scissors is red. i’m not going to lie to you i only did this because the splatoon testfire had these colors. it’s also why my triplets designs are colored like that!

i think these colors also just fit the descriptions of these crafts? red feels like a more aggressive and active color, which matches how piercing craft is generally more focused on dealing damage, blue tends to be calmer, which matches protective craft being more supportive , that kinda thing. something something children’s hospital. yellow is a bit of a wildcard here lol, it just looks nice with the other two.

putting aside the colors for a mo! don’t worry those’ll come back soon. i’ve also been thinking a lot about how dual craft types work, though this is a little more speculative. i’m entirely basing this on how mira works. basically, one craft type seems to be more ‘dominant’ over the other. while mira is both paper and scissors, she’s still weak to rock, her basic attack is scissors, and her scissors skill (jolly round rondo) does much more damage than her paper skill (artsy silent burst). she behaves more like a scissors type, with an extra affinity for paper. which i think is interesting!!!

in terms of colors, i think this would manifest as mira’s craft being tinted orange, as a mix of both her craft type’s colors! this is partially what those uncategorized colors are for. while her scissors attacks are only slightly tinted, her paper attacks would be a lot closer to orange! and this would apply to other dual crafts as well. a rock/paper type would have more greenish attacks, a rock/scissors type would have more purply ones, etc etc.

i think this color mixing would also apply to single craft types trying to use a craft type that isn’t their own, though it’d prolly become less pronounced the more a person ‘gets used’ to using that craft type, so to speak. in a while rockodile would be pretty solidly purple, while rock bottom is more of an indigo color, and odile’s craft skills probably only slightly tinted as well.

ok!!! that was a lot about colors. i’m really fucking normal about colors. onto craft styles!! this is still kinda about colors tho sorry. also, again, go check out @/chronologically-challenged’s post if you haven’t already, it’ll prolly explain this better than i will

for a tl;dr on that post, each country has a different way of using craft. the forgotten island has lightless craft that tends to manifest as stars and zigzags, vaugarde has big, rounded bursts of grey craft (with smaller circles around it), and ka bue’s craft is more diamond shaped/triangular and tends to be on the lighter side.

this is also the part i’m a little less sure about. i haven’t drawn these out in my normal style!! so a lot of this is subject to change. sorry about that!

anyways. i wanted to preserve the island’s lightless craft while still making it colorful, so i decided to give it a sort of. halo effect? i guess? i wanted it to vaguely resemble the ring of light around a black hole or a solar eclipse, but that is a lot harder to do with the zigzag shape of the craft + my color limitations. and as i’ve recently learned, glow effects look really weird with my pixelly art. so this is all just flat colors 😓

shhh don’t mind the art here i’ve totally posted it before 🩶

vaugarde is pretty simple comparatively!! the craft is a sort of midshade ingame, so i just made the main color the normal craft colors. not much to say here!

and ka bue is in a similar boat! i did kinda draw it in my odile sprite redraw, but i didn’t really look at references so it’s kinda boring looking there. not much to say here either!!

and!! as we can see from the king’s special attack art, craft styles can kinda mix together. king’s style follows the general shape of vaugardian craft, but keeps the shade and stars from the forgotten island! i think it’d be fun to play with that a little more teehee. i imagine these are a lot more variable depending on how engrossed someone is in a culture, hence why odile’s craft doesn’t borrow from vaugarde’s style. unless she does? it’s not like we see other ka buans using craft in game. who knows.

also because i forgot, some extra bonus doodles of that craft color mixing i mentioned earlier! yipee!

and that’s it!!! there’s probably some other stuff that i am. currently forgetting. but this post is absurdly long enough!!! thank you so much for the ask i’m so sorry for autism blasting you about isat and color theory. am i still cool. here’s all of my craft doodles as compensation for reading this giant infodump. i’m so so sorry.

[perplexedflower]

Connection

Fandom: Gravity Falls.

Category: F/M.

Relationship: Stanford Pines x Female Reader.

Type: One shot.

Words: 3,830.

Summary: Stanford Pines is anything but used to romance, but when the young woman he has fallen for confesses her feelings to him, it feels to him as though they were destined to be together…

Chronology: Late Season 2.

~~~~~~~~~~

I felt a little dizzy as my body began to tremble, but after one slow, deep breath, I regained my composure and walked out of the attic. After having spent so long, so much time, so many days debating with myself, I had finally made up my mind: that day was the day I would dare approach Stanford and confess to him everything that weighed on my mind. At last.

I made my way down the staircase and up to the vending machine, alone in the room; that afternoon was bright and sunny, thankfully for me, as all the others were spending their time outside the shack. The last thing I wanted was for one of them to walk in on me confessing my love to Stanford, and the sheer thought of such a thing happening was enough to bring knots to my stomach.

Still standing in front of the vending machine, I input the code to the basement on the pad, a code only the Stan twins knew better than I did, a code I typed in every day, a code that had become so important to me.

Come on, [Y/N]... You can do it. I motivated myself through thought as I watched the secret door open. You've prepared yourself for this day, for this exact moment... You can do it.

With the vending machine now retracted, I took a deep breath once more, sensing my nervousness rise as my stomach truly began to ache, my heart beating faster in my chest than it had ever before. For the second time, I found myself faced with a flight of stairs: I walked down each step, one by one, until I arrived at the elevator. With a slightly trembling index finger, I pressed the button that led to the last floor, which was home to the now-broken portal. While I waited inside the elevator, I continuously repeated to myself the speech I had prepared, the speech I intended to give to Stanford. And the second the elevator stopped moving and the doors slowly opened, I knew my time had come.

Seated on his chair, Stanford was pacing back and forth between all corners of the room, whether it was his desk, shelves, or even the ground, promptly standing up to grab some of his tools off the floor before he sat right back down. For but a moment, it was clear he had not yet noticed I was present in the room with him, until I took a few steps forward in his direction: then, he instantly recognized the sound of my footsteps and finally turned around to me.

From the other end of the room, he showed me a warm smile that made my heart flutter.

"Good afternoon, [Y/N]." He said cheerfully while he brushed the dust off his clothes with his hands. "How are you feeling today? Good, I hope."

"Good afternoon, Ford." I said back to him as I tried to sound as nonchalant as I could. "I'm fine, yes, thank you for asking. And what about you?"

"I'm doing great." He answered, still smiling. "In fact, I'm doing very well."

"Really, how so?"

"Well, I can't quite yet tell you much about it, but my current research is coming along nicely, to say it all." He told me with delight.

"Oh, that's fantastic news!" I exclaimed enthusiastically.

I stared at Stanford in the eyes, pretending to be jolly, when my heart rate was in fact racing.

"Oh, but enough about all that." He said as he took a step toward me while gesturing his hands. "Tell me, [Y/N], why are you not outside? I would have expected to see you out there, enjoying such a sunny day."

"You're one to talk, you know?" I teased him with a light chuckle. "But, as for me... Well..."

The old ceiling lamp above our heads emanated a low light that mixed in orange and red, which faintly reflected against the lenses of Stanford's glasses, making them sparkle just slightly.

"You see, Ford..." I started, the volume of my voice diminishing with each word. "God, it's just so hard to say it..."

As my hands began to tremble and awkwardly twist their fingers, he took yet another step in my direction, which brought him right in front of me.

"[Y/N], are you sure everything's all right?" He asked me with concern while he rested a delicate hand on one of my shoulders. "Is something the matter?"

To avoid his gaze, I lowered my head and stared at the ground, at my feet, just in front of his.

"Ford... There's something I have to tell you." I finally managed to say. "It's... really important... to me. That's why I'm here and not outside with the others."

While I spoke, I simply could not resist the urge to look down at Stanford's hand, holding my shoulder in place with a firm grip, yet without too much pressure; and the longer I stared at it, the longer I felt his touch on me, the more I could sense my heart pounding in my chest. I could tell my cheeks were progressively turning pink as I allowed my eyes to wander, leaving his hand to trace up his arm, detailing the outline of his muscles through the sleeve of his coat.

It's undeniable that the 30 years Ford spent stuck in-between dimensions have toughened him up... by a lot. I thought to myself. He's told me before that back when he and Stanley were little, he would get pushed around by other kids, even bullied. Then, growing up into adulthood, as a scientist and researcher, he never quite had a muscular physique, unlike his twin brother. But now, I look at him... and I can't help but feel a sense of pride seeing the man he has become.

I quickly pulled myself out of my thoughts and diverted my eyes from his arm, then cleared my throat before I looked back up at his face.

"I have to tell you that... I'm really glad that Stanley made the right choice to save you and bring you back here... and that Mabel decided not to press that button." I told him with genuine affection. "Stanford, I like you, and—"

"Oh, how sweet of you, [Y/N]." He exclaimed with a smile as he interrupted me. "I know it may not always seem like it, but I'm actually truly happy to be back, to be here, beside you all, even Stanley... And that includes you, of course. I like you too, [Y/N]."

With a grin still displayed on his face, he leaned forward and moved his hand from my shoulder to my head: his palm tousled my hair, after which he started to walk back to his desk, assuming our conversation was over and that he could go back to his work.

"T-Thank you, Ford, but you don't get it—" I said with a sad smile while I shook my head slowly, my eyebrows furrowed. "I like you, Stanford... I love you."

It felt as though my words echoed throughout the room, bouncing off the walls, surrounding us wholly, resonating within our heads. He immediately stopped walking, his foot frozen in mid-air, and remained still, his back turned to me; although I could not see his face, I could feel mine growing hot with blush, an expression of conflicted emotions on my face.

"... Hum— You know what? Forget I said anything." I mumbled as I stared at his back. "I... don't know what came over me, but just— Ignore it... please..."

The more I tried to express myself properly, the longer I spent choosing my words, the more teardrops escaped my eyes, rolling down across my cheeks and ending their course on the ground.

"This... must sound like complete nonsense to you... I'm sure you're thinking I've lost my mind."

While I still stared at his back, still turned to me, Stanford still motionless, I took a blind step backward, then another.

"... I'm very sorry to have disturbed you, Stanford... You may resume your work, now."

The second I finished speaking, I promptly turned around and nervously pressed the button on the elevator: and as I stepped inside, I anxiously waited to hear him say something, anything, but he remained quiet. I pressed a second button, this time to order the elevator to go back up to the surface. After a second of silence that felt excruciatingly long, the two doors closed, and the moment the elevator started to move, I broke into tears.

I was still sobbing when, shortly after, I walked out of the elevator, climbing the secret stairs back up to arrive back into the room. I was too emotionally compromised to truly scan my surroundings, but I was still able to tell all the others were still busy, as the room was still empty.

I need... to be alone... I told myself. I need to find a place... somewhere, anywhere...

I knew the attic was out of the question, considering Dipper and Mabel could have very well been there, and so was the kitchen, given how much time Stanley spent in it; the only place that was left, the only place I could think of was the secret room Soos had discovered the other day, by pure accident. Once standing in front of the door, I gave it a soft push with my hand, too feeble to put any amount of strength into my movements. But as physically weak as I felt, I stepped inside the room without even an ounce of hesitation.

Once I was in, I closed the door behind me then took a look around the dim room, plunged into darkness, and, soon enough, my eyes spotted a couch: without a second thought, I made my way to it and sat down, bringing both of my legs onto the sofa. The temperature in the room was quite cold, which forced me to bury my face into the sweater I was wearing, a sweater Mabel had knitted for me. And as I sat in the dark, I let my tears flow, pouring out of my eyes like a river.

For a while, although I had no notion of how long it had been, I did not move from my spot, nor did I stop weeping, surrounded by my overwhelming thoughts in the midst of obscurity. That was, until I heard the door of the room open behind me, in such a slow and gentle manner it was almost inaudible.

Without sticking my head out of my sweater, I shook my head at the sound.

"I don't know who you are, but frankly, I don't care." I let out in-between two tears, my voice muffled. "Please... go away... I just need some time on my own..."

Despite my pitiful request, the person decided to walk in anyway, and I felt my heart twist into knots when I recognized the sound of their footsteps on the creaking floor, the sound of old, muddy boots. They continued, growing closer and closer to me, until they stopped, right beside me, and after but only a second, I felt his body sit down on the couch, just next to mine.

"[Y/N]... Please, listen." Stanford started in a tone so gentle it was almost a whisper. "You may think you've lost your mind, but you're far from it, trust me."

His voice and his words reached my ears and instantly enveloped me in a sensation of safety, of warmth, of comfort, and a part of me was already soothed, just listening to them, no matter how much I craved to be alone at that moment.

Though hesitantly, I slowly raised my head from my sweater, revealing the upper part of my face, though the rest was still concealed: and in an instant, my eyes were met with his, his gaze soft and affectionate.

"Because of... what you've told me, you see yourself as a freak... as some kind of monster. And you know this is something I can relate to, [Y/N]. I've had similar thoughts in the past, when I was a child, after other people would make fun of me for my weirdness, especially my polydactyly. But no matter how many times I got pushed around, I always— Well, almost always had my brother by my side, to remind me I should not be ashamed of who I am... Just like you have us."

Ever so gently, Stanford extended one of his hands to me, reaching down into my sweater to grab my chin between his thumb and index finger. And that one single gesture tore my heart in half.

I already know how all of this is going to end... Ford is going to comfort me, to try and make me feel better, but he's not going to bring up again my love declaration, he's going to ignore my feelings for him... He'd rather avoid mentioning it, finding it easier to pretend as if it never happened... and this tension between us would remain.

With my face still held by his hand, he stared deeply into my eyes, though it appeared his confidence was progressively fading away.

"[Y/N], I... I don't... quite know how to say this..."

His face turned pink as he broke eye contact with me, his eyes restless.

"I've never really... done this type of thing... ever, you see, so..."

But eventually, after looking for the right words for some time, he looked back into my eyes, this time with strong determination.

"I love you too, [Y/N]." He blurted out bashfully.

Upon hearing his words, my eyes opened wide and my heart stopped beating. I was already convinced my imagination had played a trick on me, unable to believe what Stanford had just said to be the truth.

"... This... is not something I thought I would say today, but I assure you that I mean it, no matter how unbelievable it may sound to you." He further confessed, his words heavy. "I've had feelings for you ever since the day I first made your acquaintance. I saw you for the first time and... found you... beautiful. I talked to you for the first time and thought your personality was wonderful. Then I saw how well you got along with my family, with Stanley and the kids, and... I felt something I had never really felt before."

He marked a pause, his voice slightly shaky and his face shifting from pink to red.

"... A-And, at first, I couldn't believe it was love, I put the blame on... on the fact that you simply had been the first woman my eyes landed on after 30 years outside of this dimension, but—... But soon enough, I had to be rational and face the truth... I understood I truly had fallen for you."

Although I kept quiet, I could very distinctively tell what was going through Stanford's mind, especially given the facial expressions he was switching between as he spoke.

"But I... I didn't say anything." He continued, lowering his eyes to avoid mine. "I didn't know how to properly apprehend these feelings, how to confess them to you... For a man my age, all of this shouldn't be a problem, but... well, my experience is close to none. I understand your own hesitation regarding your feelings came from our age gap, and, quite frankly, so did mine. I just couldn't find a way to let you know about mine without coming across as a pervert... So I decided to bottle it all up."

After his last sentence, silence reigned for a moment, and I understood his speech had finally come to an end; the two of us were now staring straight at each other, our gazes locked on, neither of us saying a word. Only then did Stanford remember he was still holding my chin, and only then did he realize his speech had gone on for much longer than he himself had intended, judging by the look on his face. His eyes suddenly opened wide, his cheeks still buried under a thick layer of blush as he let go of my face, visibly embarrassed.

"I-I'm sorry, [Y/N]— I said too much, didn't I?" He asked me, seemingly shameful. "I must have spoken for too long— You said you wanted to be left alone, so... I'll be going, now—"

He hurriedly stood up from the sofa as he nervously pushed his glasses on his nose. He promptly made his way to the door of the room, but before I could let him get too far away from me, I extended an arm toward him and reached for the bottom of his coat: as he felt my hand tug at the fabric, he turned back around and looked at me, at the single tear rolling down my cheek.

"Stay." I said in a whisper. "... Please."

Stanford's eyes remained on me, on my face, which was now begging for his presence, and he could feel it; all while staring down at me, he walked back to the couch and sat back down, this time even closer to me, close enough to wrap his arms around my body and bring it down against his as he lay back slightly. His embrace felt warm and secure, yet so overwhelming as well. With my face nestled in the crook of his neck, I closed my eyes and took multiple deep breaths, his natural scent soothing me further with each passing second.

As I listened to the sound of his heart beating faster in his chest, I felt one of his hands rub my back gently, shortly followed by a kiss he left on the crown of my head. Both of us found peace and tranquility within that moment, that moment of serenity and quietness; but the silence did not last for long, as I let out a heavy sigh.

"... I'm sorry, Ford." I said, my voice slightly muffled against his skin.

"What for?" He kindly asked while looking down at me.

"For... all of this. For having waited all this time to let you know how I feel, and for having made you repress your own feelings. Because of me... we've wasted so much time we could have spent... this way."

Stanford chuckled, a genuine laugh that made my heart skip a beat and turned the tips of my ears red.

"You don't need to apologize for such things, [Y/N]." He stated as he brought his hands down on my shoulders.

With slow and gentle care, he pulled me out of his embrace, just slightly, just enough so that he could look down at me, so that our faces could meet, so that he could show me his bright smile.

"You're not responsible for any of this, and if we follow your way of thinking, logic would have it I need to apologize too. But neither of us is at fault, here. So, please, don't burden yourself with guilt."

With a shy smile, I closed my eyes and nodded. When I opened them again, I was still faced with his loving smile, with his affectionate gaze; and, after but a brief moment of uncertainty and indecision, I slowly brought my hand up to his face and gently rested my palm on his cheek, which led to the blush on his cheeks intensifying. As my fingers drifted down along his jaw and then his neck, I tilted my head a little.

I've... never really been this close to Ford before... It might take some getting used to... But I get the feeling that won't be an issue.

Our eyes gazed deeply into one another as my other hand found its way to his torso, my palm slowly rising and falling along his heaving chest, along the rhythm of his heartbeat. One of his hands left my shoulders to hold my waist, while the other held the nape of my neck, his fingers delicately running through my hair. Our faces grew closer to each other, the air around us filled with anticipation and excitement, until we both tilted our heads and closed our eyes: our lips met and our embrace grew tighter, finally sharing together this special moment we had waited so long to see happen.

My hand on his neck moved to the collar of his sweater, which I grabbed passionately while I felt Stanford furrow his eyebrows, his lips sighing against mine, cherishing the moment as he held me against his body. But the moment inevitably came to an end when we both pulled away, slightly out of breath, slightly panting, in an atmosphere that had all of a sudden become heavy. The two of us were still nervous, even now that we had kissed, and I could tell Stanford was feeling particularly awkward: with a soft smile, I tugged at his sweater and leaned forward to leave one more kiss on his lips, catching him off-guard. After I pulled away, I stared into his wide-open eyes with love as I caressed his blushing cheek.

"That was wonderful, Ford." I told him enthusiastically in a reassuring tone.

While still smiling, I readjusted his glasses on his nose a little better, seeing as they had slightly slipped down during our kiss.

"For a man in his 60s who's barely ever kissed a woman before, you're quite a good kisser." I added, teasing him playfully.

My compliment made him chuckle, somewhat awkwardly but mostly with genuine affection.

"Well... Thank you, [Y/N]." He said while blushing. "You're... really good yourself."

My body imitated his and I felt the redness on my face intensify as I giggled lightly. Both of his hands traveled back down around my waist, which he grabbed firmly, though without applying too much pressure.

"Well... The afternoon is far from over, so why don't you and I go back to the basement?" He suggested happily, visibly excited at the idea of keeping this conversation going elsewhere. "I'll show you a glimpse of what I've been working on these past few days."

"I like the sound of that." I replied just as happily.

With the help of my hips, his hands moved my body to the side, freeing his so that he could stand up from the couch: then, as he stared down into my eyes, he opened the palm of his hand to me.

"Then, let's get back to work... Shall we, sweetheart?"

I felt my pulse accelerate greatly upon hearing him call me by such a pet name, but I did my best to keep my composure as I nodded and put my palm in his.

Hand in hand, Stanford and I walked out of the room and headed to the basement, where we spent the rest of the day together, exchanging more than just words, until the sun went down and the moon went up.

[sl4sh3rsub]

art the clown hcs (nsfw: mdni)

art the clown x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warning: so so much. unhygienic behaviour, p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), creampies, fingering (receiving), overstimulation (receiving), dubious consent + cnc (with art), noncon (with [sometimes intoxicated] victims + art, not with reader), art is mute, reader is put on display and used as bait for art's activities, art makes his own snuff?? idk but there's sexual stuff with dead bodies + art in the same vicinity, masturbation, blood kink but lots of blood in general, gore, mentions of injury and giving injury (not on reader), public sex/exhibitionism, oral (giving + receiving), rimming (giving), period sex, cumrag, sexual photographs taken of/for reader, art goes commando, scarification, art is a switch - if only to commit to the bit, fear play (empty guns, dull knives), bondage (reader receiving), cum eating, somnophilia, shoe humping, cum tributes, feet stuff mentioned, musk kink, corruption kink mentioned?, mtf section mentions art performing an orchiectomy

a/n: kinda edited. he's so nine inch nails/orgy coded and the movies are so scary that i chickened out rewatching parts of terrifier 2 pls forgive me :3 the first dot point is to set the mood, sorry but it gets right into it

READ THE WARNINGS this one's very intense - please, if you think this might be too much for you or just uncomfortable, skip this one.

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

art will put on a home video of him torturing and toying with someone while you're held between his legs - he wants to have a fun little viewing party for his recent exploits! he toys with your hole, teasing you as his cock ruts into your lower back. the sinister clown ignores the thrashing of your legs as he pulls orgasm after orgasm out of your poor, tired body. the only time he lets up, giving a break from his constant stimulation on your sweet spots, is when he pauses to mimic a wave or jolly dance in the video he's showing you. the way your slick arousal thins and connects his fingers whenever he waves at the screen would be comical if your head wasn't so fuzzy from the constant edging. he loves tormenting people but the methods for you are a bit more... delicious

whenever he comes home injured, he patiently sits propped against a wall as you tend to his weeping wounds. judging by the ripped clown suit and gashes littering his skin, it was evidently a rough night. he doesn't bother to tell you that he will heal at abnormally fast speeds, he just loves the sight of his blood smeared on your skin. while you bandage art up, the gauze ends up giving him more coverage than his shredded suit - he meets your gaze with a sly grin as he thrusts up into your hand, showing what he has to offer. you'll have to ignore the drying blood all over the two of you, as he rushes to pull your face into of his lap to let out some pent-up energy :<

he's always so playful whenever you both get down and dirty, whether it's pulling surprised expressions whenever you cum, dragging his finger down from your lips to your throat to shush you or flick your nipples only to giggle at your surprised face

if art is not in the mood to trudge home alone after a rampage, he'll text you an address to meet him at. to no one's surprise, it's always a laundromat. he loves to fuck you in the empty establishments while his clothing is in a washing cycle - after all, it would be rude to get your clothing dirty while he's taking you from behind over a dryer. he pays extra attention to getting off and finishing inside you as a way to wind down from a wild time, his creamy release dripping onto the floor. guess you'll have to bust out the mop on shaky legs while art cheerily dresses himself and patiently waits for you on the bench next to the window - he can't help but admire his special person and be proud of how he made them come undone

his favourite way to wake up is to have his throbbing cock in your mouth, his gaze half-lidded as you work your hand along his length and envelop him with your soft lips. art is addicted to you sloppily gagging on him, spit and precum drooling down his balls. his huffs of pleasure gracing your ears are the sweetest part of any early morning

whenever you finish giving art head, kiss his tip softly after swallowing, making sure to slurp up his cum from dribbling down his shaft and he'll trace a heart on your forehead with your tears from gagging on him. if you meet his gaze as you catch your breath, he'll quietly shush and tut at you in reassurance while you rest your cheek against his bare thigh, petting your hair

the clown likes to play a game where he captures male victims he's focused on, strips them down, then ties them up in a row and gags them. he makes them watch as he pleasures you in front of them, spread on display as he mocks them and their tears, all while you come undone on his cock and fingers. he punishes the one that gets hard first (away from you, of course - he drags the guy to the next room to deal with later). art puts you on display in front of the remaining men, dons a shitty wig and red lipstick then slowly jerks off the softest person as they gradually get more aroused at the sight of you playing with yourself and moaning for art to fuck you. art is overall most turned on by other people watching you without touching what's his - he loves showing you off and feeling proud that they could never pleasure you like he could :3

art fucks you against the windows of buildings he's snuck into - he loves giving an eyeful for his potential victims and he's not above tempting them into the building he's camped out in with the false promise of joining in

he has certain hand signals for you to bend over, drop your pants or get on your knees. it's not in an intimidating dominant way, it's simply out of necessity as he cannot verbally order you to do anything in the bedroom

your pleasure is not the priority all the time - art's main goal is for him to feel good, however he may realise that certain things make you squeeze his cock perfectly and as a result, your orgasms are a coincidental byproduct of his lust

art is a sucker for being balls deep inside you when he cums but he also enjoys painting your sloppy hole - an excellent view, plus there's so much to scoop up and finger deep back inside you

whenever he cums, art's tummy tenses and his thighs spasm as his eyes roll backwards. his chest shudders as his breathing gets shaky, needing to grab onto something to steady himself. his cum itself is generally thick but whenever you remind him to drink water, it'll get very thin and watery. it's important to note, his cum colour fluctuates between a regular milk colour and pitch black goop

art the clown freeballs in his satin costume, just hangin out for the sake of convenience and simplicity - if he's needing to piss, rub one out or get undressed to sleep, why should underwear be in the way? he's an absolute pervert, so he loves you seeing his dick whenever you look at him

force him have a shower - not even a bath, the water would get dirty too quick. caked layers of metallic blood and dirt don't help anyone's general scent and if he's around you a lot, you don't want a smelly clown trailing you and in your general vicinity

he wanders around naked after he takes a hot shower, when his costume is drying and his painted neck is waiting to be properly touched up. expect to see his bare dick twitch while you stare in shock, mouth hanging open at his blatant lack of shame in his nudity. the same thing applies to whenever the clown suit has a hole in it - at this point it's any excuse to be in the nude and flaunting his body around, the tapered tip of his cock always pulsing under your bashful eye

art carves his name into you - or something like 'art was here', 'art's art' or 'art's toy' - but you get to choose where! in his mind, it's like a collaborative effort :<

he's addicted to your warmth and tightness, so be ready to have his pasty cock buried in you whenever there's nothing to do. he'll pull you onto his lap while bunched up and all tense, pull down your underwear and spit on his length, slowly sliding into you as his muscles release all tension. he's practically a limp puddle once he's deep inside - he's comfortable enough to nap like this and will cuddle you until you feel the same way. the bastard will occasionally toot his horn to scare you into clenching around his softly throbbing dick

his love language is physical touch - his hand is always hovering near your hip, ass or lower back and he pats your cheek or kisses your temple if you've been good, petting your hair as you doze off next to him. his version on an 'i love you' is a warm palm cupping your face as he intertwines his body with yours, your muscles relaxing as you lean into his heat

the clown always, always leaves deep bites and bruises all over your body. prepare to have painkillers at every single meal, because he makes sure you're aching and bleeding when he's done with you after a rough day

as he doesn't make you participate in his meals of flesh and rubbish, expect to have his victim's homecooked leftovers, as well as pizza and other take-out regularly - all with a little extra salty glaze ontop <3 he's a romantic after all and still wants a small part of him inside you no matter what, that way you're never really lonely - his warmth settling in your tummy and also leaking from between your legs

art marks up your neck with his tongue and nails, leaving crescent moons and maroon roses etched into your skin like a morbid necklace. although he's not happy that you don't heal abnormally fast like he does, your shudders as his cold nails trail over your tender flesh spark a warmth within his gut and a glint in his eye

art chokes you so often that his hand is practically your necklace. he likes the control he's able to exercise subtly with a squeeze of his fingers and you don't mind the comforting pressure of his thumb skimming over your pulse. be sure to wash his gloves often thought - whenever you drool or have given him head and his hand then takes its place around your throat, the remnants of the fluids often soak into the material clinging to his palms. eventually, it'll make his skin tacky with dried cum and spit, stuck to the threadbare gloves

his guilty pleasure is having you ride him and take control, with zero regard for accidentally overstimulating him - sure he could breed you of his own volition, in his own time, but he's your toy in that moment with no control. the coincidental creampie being fucked deeper and deeper in you makes a shiver run down his spine. he's willing to be a pliable doll for you to mould into a quiet fuck toy to play with. be sure to hold art close and comfort him after you take control and he'll do the same back after he's been rough

art gets his hands on incredibly dull knives and empty guns with no magazine, especially pistols, and brings them into your sexual life. he loves the fear in your eyes as he trails the blades down your chest, tracing your nipples and thighs but the clown is especially turned on by making you suck the barrel of a gun - pretty eyes glittering in panic and arousal. he makes a game of rigging a shotgun with tripwires - if you shift too much while he trails his tongue down your body or thrash as he makes you cum on his face, the threat of the trigger being pulled gives you a rush of adrenaline that makes your eyes roll back, vision fading white. his gun fixation is not limited to just that - some other ideas he's been cooking up include you being fucked by a dead cop's handgun while humping his clown shoe, as well as you christening each new weapon he creates during his tinkering sessions

if he's desperate to jerk off, he'll do it wherever - ready to get it over with even if he ends up rubbing one out next to a dead body or in the middle of a public park. if he returns to you with dirty gloves and semen drying on the wrist, don't ask what happened because his mimed description of events is never pleasant

art sits on your face and gets off with his fist while you fuck him with your tongue, lapping at his hole. he tosses his head back and pants very softly, thighs trembling as he grinds himself on your face - bonus points if you let him pull back and fuck your mouth with his cock for a bit before returning to suffocate you between his asscheeks

he loves licking your skin everywhere. absolutely everywhere. he loves the taste of your salty sweat and warmth, feeling powerful having your pulse race under his tongue. if you fuck him, stuff your fingers in his mouth and his eyes will roll back in his skull

art suspends you with chains and rope, teasing you until you're begging to be fucked. his deft fingers trace your curves and edges, flicking and pinching your nipples, inner thighs and ass as he manically grins with a clear cock print in the front of his suit. he only maneuvers you to take his cock once you're dripping spit, tears and arousal onto the cold floor and screaming for him

as art knows you belong to him, sharing you with another man gets him going like nothing else - he'll eiffel tower you with a restrained captive, urging you to choke on the stranger's hardening dick as he fucks you so deep you're gasping for air and seeing stars. what's gonna happen, the guy survives? fuck no, he's already practically giftwrapped at death's doorstep just from becoming art's captive. why not make the last few hours of his life enjoyable and more than fulfilling - if the poor sod is willing, you could even keep him for a night or two as a pet

if you have genital, nipple piercings or even a septum done, art will dangle a little bell from each hoop. it immediately brightens his day to hear the little jingles whenever you're bouncing on his dick and he can't resist flicking them to make you jolt or smacking your ass whenever you walk near him just to hear the sweet soft tinkle under your loose clothing

art cleans up each basement/house he temporarily stays in, with a designated bed to fit the two of you and ensures there's a bathroom and basic laundry attached for your comfort - he notices you tend to avoid his being in his proximity whenever he gets too smelly. he may also move in with you for bouts of time - provided you have the space - but also camps out at his usual haunts and drags you along to hang out with him! the poor clown hates being lonely :(

he might go on a walk with you and toy with you - he gets off on watching you panic as he whips his dick out in public and gestures for you to kiss it, rub your face over it and worship him, hard or not. the control he holds over you and the headrush of power, combined with your submissive gaze aimed up at him, makes his growing affection and attachment towards you grow stronger

he brings you human organs and shitty handwritten poems - 'here's a heart but i wanna be the one pumping inside of you <:o)' or 'i could call you this esophagus the way you swallowed me so well last night >:)'

he has a collection of picture frames in his hideout because he takes photos of you and sticks them in nice frames - who needs playboy magazines when he can make tributes to you? you can tell which one is his favourite, with the crusty sludge stuck to the glass and wood protecting the flimsy picture

art definitely wants a footjob every now and then, every once in a while. it means he can tie up your hands while you get him off AND he still has two hands to play with you - a win win situation all around. he's not really into it strictly because it's feet, he just gets off on the thought of corrupting you more with such a taboo action

he has a love-hate relationship with piss too - he loves to have you obediently under him as he showers you with piss and cum, corrupting you a little more each time he marks you with his smell, but he hates because it masks your natural scent which is one of the few things that makes his head spin

if you get anxious or restless, he always has a cold body nearby.. oh you want something warmer? feel free to suckle on his soft cock or his sac while you cuddle his leg and fidget with the cloth of his pantleg

although he's gotten a lot better at regulating his personal hygiene since you met him, he doesn't always clean himself up - the musky and tangy stench of blood, sweat and grime permeates his suit until he scrubs clean

art loves it when you do filthy things for his pleasure, like sniffing his armpits while humping him or rimming him with his sweaty balls resting on your nose, making your brain go dumb

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amab hcs

whenever art is thinking about being away for a few days to camp out at a certain location, he'll grab himself a clean rag and dedicate an entire night to getting you to cum on the cloth as many times as possible. it wouldn't be a pair of underwear from either of you - he hates wearing any type of clothing under the suit, even if it's your cum stained boxers - so it'd have to be a ripped piece of cloth from an old clown outfit. he'll jack you off and fuck you while holding it over your tip and even gag on your cock until the flimsy material is coated and probably permanently stained in your spend. he just wants a keepsake for the road and why not make it imbued with memories of the two of you enjoying yourselves? his own little cumrag to remember what he has back home, something special to return to!

art will ask you to be bait for him - either through stripping down sensually and pressing your bulge and ass against the windows of art’s current setup to entice horny, often intoxicated, onlookers late at night or indulging catcallers and inviting them to get it on with you back at the designated building, caressing their chest and crotch as you both giggle and meander inside. the clown always has your back and would not let you get hurt by the strangers at all, but the bait portion of his plan is extremely important to lull the victims into an optimistic headspace for them to ignore the shady setting

art craves the sensation of you throbbing under his tongue, the feeling of your pulse as you leak your pleasure all over his lips and the heavy musky taste slips down his throat

he'll get you a cute, sparkly plastic ring from a gachapon machine down at the arcade and fake proposes to you! later in the week, he'll break into a sex shop and bring home a matching cock ring (he's a romantic)

art has an obsession with your balls - nipping at them, having them slap against his chin or nose bridge as he messily takes as much as he can down his throat, you name it. expect greasepaint at the base of your cock and staining your pubes

he scrapes his nails down your back whenever you fuck his tight ass, pale cock bobbing and leaking everywhere. he adores marking up your back with the red ridges of broken skin as he cums all over your chests, shooting warmth up and splattering it on your flushed neck

if he's on top and riding, he'll put all his weight into choking you while he bounces up and down on your cock, eyes glinting with pride at your gasped thanks whenever he pulls you back from the brink of unconsciousness

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afab hcs

art is obsessed with you whenever it's 'that time of the month' - you can barely get away from his wandering hands and quiet presence. he drops everything the moment you reach for your favourite snacks and heat pack, drags over a dark towel he keeps on hand for you. ever since he learnt that orgasms help relieve cramps and pain, he has felt a lot less selfish for wanting to ravage you while you're tender and bleeding. he has numerous photos of his bloodied cock framed by your ass cheeks or your warm cunt and he often takes videos on your phone of his length throbbing and oozing copious amounts of pink cum <3

art has an addiction to taking upskirt pictures of your puffy pussy imprint against your thin, practically see-through panties, still slick despite your embarrassment. his guilty pleasure is taking the pics when his cum is leaking from your hole, soaking the fabric

art will ask you to be bait for him - either through stripping down sensually and pressing your chest, ass and pussy against the windows of art’s current setup to entice horny, often intoxicated, onlookers late at night or indulging catcallers and inviting them to get it on with you back at the designated building, caressing their chest and crotch as you both giggle and meander inside. the clown always has your back and would not let you get hurt by the strangers at all, but the bait portion of his plan is extremely important to lull the victims into an optimistic headspace for them to ignore the shady setting

art pretends to talk and communicate with your cunt - acting out gestures as if holding a conversation with your clit while slowly coaxing you to cum and even gesturing at you to shush if you try to interrupt the important moment

eats devours pussy like a demon, a man starved. no hesitance and no restraint, he’s the type to suckle open mouthed kisses to your clit and fucks your dripping hole with his abnormally long tongue. nipping at your folds as he coaxes you to the edge with just a finger, tongue swirling in your slick as you cum - he is sloppy in his work but enthusiastically diligent with the cleanup, not a drop gets past his mouth. greasepaint might stain your thighs afterwards but it's a small price to pay for a talented clown's best efforts

art will find pretty lingerie for you to wear for him, parading around his hideout, making sure you know how hard he gets at your nipples and pussy covered delicately in lace

he flicks and circles your clit while you sleep, cumming all over your pussy before putting your panties back in place. he loves leaving little presents like that for you when you wake - a fuzzy head and a sticky and throbbing mess down there, strings and globs of cum connecting your thighs and the flimsy, soaked material

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ftm hcs

art has never had a handsome toy with a self-lubricating hole before - his fascination with your t-dick leads to endless nights of him experimenting on you with his mouth, fingers and cock to see what makes you tick. his favourite pastime is suckling on your tender dick while he pulses his fingers against your cervix, your whole body jerking from sensitivity as his deft fingers circle your sweet spots

art will ask you to be bait for him - either through stripping down sensually and pressing your chest, ass and boypussy against the windows of art’s current setup to entice horny, often intoxicated, onlookers late at night or indulging catcallers and inviting them to get it on with you back at the designated building, caressing their chest and crotch as you both giggle and meander inside. the clown always has your back and would not let you get hurt by the strangers at all, but the bait portion of his plan is extremely important to lull the victims into an optimistic headspace for them to ignore the shady setting

he keeps a pair of your slick-stained boxers in his ol' bag of tricks, a little keepsake for his on-the-go orgasms - he's a sniffer for sure, securing it over his face so both his hands are free to use on his dick as he gets off to your scent

he scrapes his nails down your back whenever you fuck his tight ass, pale cock bobbing and leaking everywhere. he adores marking up your back with the red ridges of broken skin as he cums all over your chests, shooting warmth up and splattering it on your flushed neck

eats devours boypussy like a demon, a man starved. no hesitance and no restraint, he’s the type to suckle open mouthed kisses to your cock and fucks your dripping hole with his abnormally long tongue. nipping at your folds as he coaxes you to the edge with just a finger, tongue swirling in your slick as you cum - he is sloppy in his work but enthusiastically diligent with the cleanup, not a drop gets past his mouth. you both tiredly giggle after he's done - the face paint around his cheeks and lips is hopelessly smudged, especially after he licks his lips and grins at you. guess he'll have to redo it later, no harm done <3

he fucks you so hard and bruises your cervix to the point where you can only moan his name and whine when he properly pulls out and gives you water with a heatpack and blanket, genuinely scared he went too rough on your insides. if your legs fail after such a long night, he'll throw you over his shoulder or pick you up like royalty and use his inhuman strength to carry you around

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mtf hcs

art the clown is thrilled to have a pretty toy with parts he's familiar with! his fingers nudge your prostate as he suckles on your tip to draw out your sweet noises. he takes you down his throat with ease, tongue lapping at your base - the combination of art's deft fingers working your hole and his hot throat clenching your length brings you to the edge embarrassingly fast. he's always had a thing for seeing his black lip paint smeared on your balls

art has an addiction to taking upskirt pictures of your bulge imprint against your thin, practically see-through panties, slick from your precum drooling and sticking to the fabric despite your embarrassment. his guilty pleasure is taking the pics when his cum is leaking from your hole

he insists on battering your prostate until you're shooting blanks - he never lets up on your poor hole until you're fully spent and your head is empty with only his name on your pretty lips

art will ask you to be bait for him - either through dressing up prettily and then stripping down sensually and pressing your bulge, chest and ass against the windows of art’s current setup to entice horny, often intoxicated, onlookers late at night or indulging catcallers and inviting them to get it on with you back at the designated building, caressing their chest and crotch as you both giggle and meander inside. the clown always has your back and would not let you get hurt by the strangers at all, but the bait portion of his plan is extremely important to lull the victims into an optimistic headspace for them to ignore the shady setting

he scrapes his nails down your back whenever you fuck his tight ass, pale cock bobbing and leaking everywhere. he adores marking up your back with the red ridges of broken skin as he cums all over your chests, shooting warmth up and splattering it on your flushed neck

the clown loves to have you dolled up in lingerie and parading infront of him, bulge and hard nipple pressed against the soft and dainty fabric. his cock gets visibly hard at the sight of you and his head spins at the sensation as you shyly offer to help with his urge to take you then and there

if you're desperate for gender-affirming surgery, art will hone his skills in surgery and sterilization to safely give you an orchiectomy - pun intended. he'll practice and go through the motions for weeks if it means you are happy and he gets to care for you

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thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it, i'm writing this at 5am. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

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@stonerinthelonlycorner