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danielfuckingricciardo · 2 years

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That Sense of Passion and Anger (Part 2)

Pairing - Max Verstappen x Reader

Word Count - 5.3k

Content Warning - Swearing, oral sex, unprotected sex, blood mention, daddy kink, Ginger Spice’s husband mention

Synopsis - After a passionate night with Max, the reader finds herself wondering what the fuck happened, and what the fuck would happen next.

Author’s Note - Sorry for not posting in a while, I’ve been in a bit of a slump lately, life and stuff, the usual. I have been having a lot of thoughts relating to this specific fic universe lately, maybe it’s just me and my desire to hate fuck Max big time lmaooo. In my head this fic has four parts in it’s entirety, and Daniel does feature quite heavily in the third part, I did say he would be in this one but I was wrong whoopsie! Anyway, hope you enjoy, feel free to drop me a DM or an ask or whatever if you have any suggestions for future chapters! I was thinking four parts but I could probably keep going if thats a thing people want me to do! Enjoy!

You stop to remove your heels as you enter the hotel, forever thankful for the hotel staff for allowing you to use the service entrance. Members of the press had been crowding the lobby ever since your explosive outburst against your teammate. Horner had you sworn to silence, partly to save face and also as he seemed slightly nervous of what you might say next, possibly making the situation even worse than it already was. The media loved your temper, and loved it even more when they were able to get something out of you that they could write about, framing you once again as some psychopathic woman hell-bent on destroying the sanctity of F1. You rub your sore ankles, letting out an exasperated sigh as you realise the skin there had broken, leaving a sore, bleeding wound. Fucking wonderful.

“Are you okay, Ms. (L/N)” A young woman in hotel uniform asks you, and you stand up to look at her, giving her a reassuring nod. “Yeah, thanks, the decision to wear nice shoes today came back to bite me in the ass big time.” You laugh, slinging your heels back over your left shoulder. “I hope you don’t mind, but there’s someone in your room to see you, I wouldn’t normally let someone in without the room owner’s permission, but I figured with who it is, it wouldn’t be a problem.” She says, a slightly nervous smile on her face. “Oh, don’t worry about it, it’s fine, thanks for letting me know. I’m heading back up there anyway, need to rest my poor aching feet. Fucking louboutins.” You say, rolling your eyes dramatically and laughing slightly. You assumed it was Daniel, waiting to hear about the new asshole that Horner had verbally torn for you in today’s meeting. “I hate heels, they’re the worst. But they look good though, and you look amazing today.” The woman says, and you can’t help but smile at her. In preparation for your verbal beatdown by your boss, you’d made sure to dress nicely, solely for the purpose of making it look like you were okay - the picture of a strong woman who refuses to take any bullshit. Little did he know of what had happened that night, scenes which you were trying to push out of your mind and forget. “Thanks. I do try my best to dress up nicely, I spend most of my time in fireproofs and team shirts, they’re not the sexiest of garments.” You say, and the woman chuckles. “I’ll let you get on your way to meet your guest, good to meet you.” She says, and begins to hurry back down the service corridor, before stopping and turning back to meet you again. “Thought you could maybe do with these?” She says, grabbing two plasters from her pocket and passing them to you. “I carry a few of these things around for heel-related emergencies.” “Thank you so much!” You say, taking the plasters and stashing them in the jacket pocket of your suit. The woman scurries away, the sound of her own heels clicking away on the tiled floor. Why as a society we encourage women to wear shoes which make them bleed you could never understand, and then you remember the woman’s previous words. They do look good.

You get out of the lift on your floor, one that luckily had been reserved solely for drivers, so you wouldn’t have to worry about being accosted by some sleazy journalist. You swipe your key in the door and open it, “I assume you’re here to gossip about all the shit that went down with Horner today, right?” You shout around the corner, throwing your heels down by the wall and walking across the room to the bed. You stop at the foot of the bed as you look up, realising that the person sat against your pillows wasn’t Daniel at all - it was Max. “Oh” You utter, your mouth dropping open as if to say something, but your head is suddenly empty of things to say. “I am curious about what happened today, but that’s now why I’m here.” He says, a small smirk appearing on his lips. “Fuck, I thought you were Daniel. What are you doing here?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You assumed that him leaving early in the morning before you awoke meant he didn’t want to talk to you again. That you’d be keeping your distance and only engaging when necessary for work.

“I needed to talk to you.” He says, adjusting his position on the bed to one less casual, less open. “Well, whatever you needed to say you could have said to me this morning. Oh, wait, you couldn’t could you because you fucked off before I even woke up. How long did you even stay? Did you just wait for me to fall asleep and then fuck off, is that the way you treat women?” You say, your tone sharp and voice louder than it probably should have been. “I stayed as long as I could, and I apologised for leaving. And, for the record, you can’t fucking say anything. I left you my number, asked to meet for lunch and you ghosted me. Not even a ‘no, I’m busy’ or a ‘I don’t want to see you’, that would have been enough.” Max shouts back, leaning forwards from his reclined position, gesturing angrily. “What fucking drugs are you on? You didn’t apologise, and you didn’t leave me your number. Unless you somehow hacked into my phone while I was sleeping which is fucking creepy.” You say, shuddering dramatically at your las statement. “Didn’t you read my note?” He asks, a look of confusion on his face. “What fucking note?” You say, mirroring his confusion. “The one I left for you on the bed before I left? Did you really think I’d fuck you and then sneak off like that?” “I don’t know what the fuck to think, Max, we hate each other, remember?” You say, sitting down on the bed, turning your back to him. You cradle your tender ankles, wiping away a trickle of blood that had begin to dribble down your foot. He crawls forward on the bed, sitting next to you, just enough distance between the two of you so that your shoulders don’t touch. His eyes connect with the metal trash can, empty, except for one screwed up piece of paper. He reaches forward and grabs it, unfolding the crumpled material and holding it out to you. “You threw it away without even reading it?” He asks, turning to you. “I didn’t know it was here Max, I swear, the housekeepers must have found it and thrown it away or something. Fuck.” You say, resting your head in your hands. “You don’t have to lie to me.” He says “Why the fuck would I lie? What good would that do me?” You say back, your anger still present in your voice no matter how hard you tried to disguise it. The whole day you’d found yourself wondering why he left, what you did wrong. Despite your hatred for the man, the sex was amazing, and you had been hoping to fit in a second round before leaving in the morning for your date with Horner and the gang. “I thought you might be lying to protect my feelings.” He says, and you scoff. “Why on earth would I want to do that? The only one who needs protecting here is me, from your dangerous fucking driving.” You laugh. “And from those shoes of yours.” He mumbles, and you can’t help but smile in response. “They’re a fucking nightmare.” You say, grabbing the plasters the woman from the hotel had given you from your jacket pocket. You fumble with the wrapper, unable to find the opening to the paper packaging. “Fuck” you sigh, throwing your head back and taking a deep breath. ‘Just count to ten, keep calm’ you mentally repeat to yourself. You are snapped out of your trance by the feeling of Max’s hand in yours, as he removes the plaster from your hand and opens it. He gestures for you to place your leg in his lap and he does so, removing the paper and gently sticking it over your injury. In that moment you make eye contact with him, just for a second, and immediately relax into his touch as he smooths the sticky material down onto your foot, careful not to catch the wound and cause you any pain. “Thanks.” You say, offering him a small smile. “Anytime.” He responds, mirroring your expression.

The two of you sit in silence for a while, not sure what to say, until you realise that your leg is still positioned on top of Max’s lap, his hand resting on your ankle. You jump up and smooth down your pencil skirt, trying to avoid showing the awkwardness you felt inside. It wasn’t working. “Since you stood me up for lunch, I think it’s only fair you take me to dinner.” He says, and you scoff. “I don’t think you can say I stood you up when I had no idea you’d even asked me. However, I do feel slightly guilty at the thought of you, sat alone at a dinner table waiting for me, only to never show. It’s equal parts tragic and fucking hilarious.” You say, cracking a smile, “So yeah, it’s only fair. But we’re splitting the bill.” You say, walking over to the bathroom door and going inside. “For sure, unless you order something expensive like steak covered in gold, in which case we’re paying for what we eat.” He says, and you stick your head out of the door to roll your eyes at him. “Cheapskate.” You grin, “Daddy’s money’s not running out, is it?” You say, sticking out your bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “Daddy wouldn’t be very happy about me spending his money on you.” He responds, and you laugh. “Oh, because the big scary lady threatened to beat up his special little guy?” You mock, and he laughs at you. “Something like that.” He says, standing from the bed. “I need to shower the Horner off me after today, meet me at the service entrance at eight?” You say, before disappearing once again behind the door and locking it. “It’s a date.” He says, as you hear him walk past the bathroom and opening the door to your room. “Oh, Daddy really wouldn’t like you saying that.” You laugh, and you hear Max tut behind the door. He leaves, shutting the door to your room quietly behind him.

7:30 rolls around quickly, and you find yourself looking through the sparsely populated wardrobe to find something to wear. Frequently hopping from one country to the next means you don’t exactly have your best items with you, and it being the end of the weekend means almost everything you could wear had already been worn. It was either the two-day-old Red Bull polo and jeans, or the dress you had brought with you just in case you had ended up attending some fancy event. Figuring it would be impolite to show up in team gear to a dinner, even when it was just some meeting with Max to clear the air between the two of you, you grab the dress from its hanger. You caress the black silk between your fingers, the soft material like a warm and gentle kiss to your skin. Daniel had been the one to convince you to buy it in the first place, as part of his plan to ‘sex you up’ for the cameras as your usual wardrobe was hardly the picture of glamour - mainly Red Bull shirts, band shirts and the occasional sundress when the weather required it. It felt a little too sexy for just a dinner with a friend, or rival, but it was all you had. So you discarded your dressing gown and slipped on the garment, the cold fabric warming up at the touch of your skin. You eye your collection of shoes by the door, consisting of a pair of tatty old Vans and your Louboutins you had discarded earlier. Sitting on the bed to consider your options, you rub your sore heel, the plaster that Max had so carefully applied still adhered to your skin. Fuck it, your ankle is already sore, how much worse can it get, right? You grab the heels and put them on, standing in front of the mirror to take a good look at yourself. It was rare you ever saw yourself dressed like this. Dates were few and far between with you constantly travelling around the world, and you always felt out of place when out with the other drivers, scared that something would kick off between you and Max and ruin the night for everyone else. And yet, here you were, wearing your best little black dress to go and meet your sworn enemy. The same enemy you had fucked the night before.

You walked down the service corridor, your heels clicking against the tiles and announcing your presence to the man stood at the end of it. “You’re late.” Max says, and you sigh dramatically at him. “I believe the kids call it being fashionably late,” you say, “not that you’d know what fashionably means.” You add, looking him up and down. Clearly also strapped for outfit options, he had chosen to wear a white shirt with black suit pants. His top button was undone and his sleeves were rolled to the elbows, revealing his forearms that were crossed around his chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks, and you laugh. “Well, you’re no Daniel when it comes to fashion,” you pause for a second, “Or Lewis” you chuckle, and he playfully punches you in the arm. “I like to keep it simple.” He responds, and you laugh at his remark. “Whatever you say, Verstappen, now lets go, I’m looking forward to my steak covered in gold.” You say as you push the door open, the cold air nipping at your bare legs immediately. You cross your arms over your body to keep the heat in as you step outside, and Max follows you. “Maybe you should have finished getting dressed, it’s cold out.” He says, and you take the opportunity to slap him back. “Don’t you dare try and slut shame me, Max Verstappen.” You laugh, and he laughs back as you both walk over to the black car parked on the street before you.

The restaurant owners, clearly used to having high-profile cliantele, had seated the two of you in a secluded spot, away from the prying eyes of the public. God knows, all you had to do was meet up with another of the drivers one-on-one to hang out and the press were circulating rumours about you hooking up with them. It had taken a whole six months and several fake dates with random men for you and Daniel to finally shut the media up about the two of you dating. According to them, men and women were incapable of being friends without shagging each other. You hoped that if you had been spotted tonight with Max, they’d assume it was all a publicity stunt arranged by Horner to try and convince people you weren’t about to hospitalise your teammate and that you were actually good friends. It was far more believable than the truth, that you were actually there to work out what had happened the previous night.

“I like your dress, it suits you.” Max says, breaking the silence that had hung between the two of you since getting in the car. You hadn’t been exactly sure what to say, so found it easier to keep quiet while considering just how you wanted to bring up what had happened between the two of you. “What? This old thing? I wear it every time I go for dinner with a guy I threatened to knock out and then shagged.” You say, biting your lip to shut yourself up and avoid saying anything else ridiculous. “Happen often?” He asks, pouring himself a glass of water before filling yours. “Once or twice, yeah.” You chuckle, grabbing the glass and taking a sip. You both sit in silence for a moment, before the waiter shows up, handing each of you a menu. You open it up and immediately notice the lack of prices that should be accompanying each fancy sounding French dish. “There are no prices on here.” You say, your eyes lingering on a certain item as you try to decipher the description written in French. “It’s a ladies menu, or whatever non-sexist name they call it nowadays. It’s so the person who isn’t paying doesn’t try to order the least expensive thing on the menu to be courteous and actually orders what they want.” Max says, not looking up from his own menu. “I thought we were splitting the bill?” You ask, glancing up at him. “Don’t worry, Daddy’s paying.” He says, winking at you. “Ugh, the press would have a field day if they heard you say that.” You chuckle, looking down at the menu to avoid his gaze. “How so?” He asks, and you look up at him, an eyebrow raised. “Could be very easily taken out of context and sound somewhat…” you pause, looking for the right word, “kinky,” you settle for, immediately regretting vocalising your perverted thought process as Max looks back at you with a bewildered look on his face. “I suppose it does.” He says, pausing for a second, “Now, be a good girl for Daddy and pick what you want, hm?” He responds, and you shake your head at him, suppressing a laugh. “Fuck you.” Is all you manage to say as you look down at the menu once again, hyper-aware of the blush now forming on your cheeks.

Your food arrives, and the sommelier pours you a suitable wine to match your dish. You swirl the beverage around in the glass before taking a sip - it tastes exactly like every other wine you’d ever tasted, so you nod your head and he walks away, leaving you and Max alone once again. “I feel like we need to address the elephant in the room before I even think about enjoying what I assume is a very expensive and fancy meal.” You say, taking a larger sip from your glass. “What elephant would that be?” Max questions, and you roll your eyes. “Don’t play dumb with me Verstappen, you know exactly what I mean.” You hiss, leaning in slightly, your voice no louder than a whisper, careful to make sure no one can hear you. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He says, smirking. He knew exactly what you meant, the smug bastard. “So you don’t recall how I fucked you last night then, how fucking hot for me you were when I called you names, when I hurt you, when I left that mark on your neck?” You whisper across the table, pointing to the bruise peeking out above his collar. Max shifts in his seat, his hands immediately darting to his neck to cover the mark with the material of his shirt. “Oh, that” He says rather flippantly, tearing off a chunk of bread from his side plate and throwing it in his mouth. “It can’t happen again.” You say, leaning back in your seat and taking another sip of wine. He looks up at you, his eyes wide. “Why not?” He questions, reaching forward for his own glass and taking a sip. “Because it’s wrong.” You say, your grip on your glass tightening. “But did it feel wrong?” He asks, and you cross your legs tightly beneath the table. You knew that fucking him again would be a bad idea. It would only confuse the two of you and make things even more awkward in the paddock, and yet, part of you ached to feel him again. To feel his hands wrapped tightly around your neck, his hot body pressed against yours, his cock deep inside you. “It felt…good.” You say, biting your lip slightly to avoid smirking as the events of the previous night fill your mind. “So why stop?” He says, and you chew harder on your bottom lip, trying to think of a response. “There is such as thing as too much of a good thing.” You say, completely contradicting your own words as your leg reaches out beneath the table, brushing against Max’s. “Not in my experience” He utters, sipping his wine. “So what? We keep doing this, and then eventually we get caught, how do we explain it to the press, to our families, to Horner?” “Easy, we don’t get caught. Come on, (Y/N), you’re a smart girl, with the way we are around everyone else, no one will suspect a thing.” He says, a smirk appearing on his lips. “So what, are we gonna be enemies with benefits?” You say, your leg travelling higher so your shoe rests on Max’s knee. “I like the sound of that.” He responds, grabbing his fork to start eating the meal before him. You remove your leg from his and he seems almost upset at the loss of contact. “So, we should enjoy our meals, and then maybe you could join me in my room for some of those benefits afterwards?” You question, raising your eyebrow at him. “Sounds good.” He responds, and you nod, taking your fork and tucking in to the plate of food before you.

Upon arriving back at the hotel, you immediately remove your heels, opting to once again walk barefooted through the service corridor. You sling your heels over your shoulder, but are relieved of your carrying duties as Max takes them from you. “If you keep doing things like that, we might have to forget the enemies part of this whole arrangement.” You say, turning back to the man walking behind you. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back to pissing you off tomorrow morning.” He says, and you chuckle. “I hope so.” “Actually, I’m going to try even harder to make you mad. You’re sexy when you’re angry.” He smirks. “Oh, fuck off.” You respond, pushing him into the wall. “I’m not gonna let you get away with that.” He says, turning to face you. You look around, making sure the corridor is empty, before pushing your body against his, his back pressed firmly into the wall. “Why? What’re you going to do to me?” You ask, your lips parted and just millimetres away from Max’s. “The sooner we get upstairs, the sooner you’ll find out.” He speaks against your lips. It takes all your self control to pull away, the desire to connect your lips with his almost winning and your fear of getting caught almost forgotten. Had you consumed another glass or two of wine that night, you would have even entertained the thought of fucking him right there and then, but you stopped yourself, pulling away and continuing down the corridor.

As soon as your door was unlocked and opened, Max had you pushed against the wall, your lips connected with his as you had wanted just a few moments earlier. It was full of passion and lust, teeth and tongues, as his hands explored your body, making their way down to the hem of your dress that grazed the top of your knees. “Fuck (Y/N) when I saw you in that dress tonight, all I could think about was how much I wanted to tear it off of you” He says, pulling away from you but pressing his forehead to your own. “Stop talking about it and fucking do it.” You hiss, tangling your hands in his hair. He reaches around your body for the zip and effortlessly pulls it down, causing the luxurious material to fall off of your form and land on the floor by your feet. His eyes travel up and down your body, admiring every curve and shape adorned by your black underwear. “Did you pick these out for me?” He asks, his hand caressing your breast through your bra, working it’s way down to your panties, his fingers ghosting your core through the lace. “Would it make you mad if I said they were the only clean ones I had left?” You question, raising an eyebrow at him. “Fuck you” He mutters, before connecting his lips with your neck, sucking hard against your soft skin in a place you were sure you wouldn’t be able to cover tomorrow - but you didn’t care. ‘If you’re lucky, you might.” You say, echoing his words from the previous night that had driven yout crazy. He looks up at you, an animalistic look of desire in his eyes, as he grabs you by the ass and drags you over to the bed, throwing you down onto the soft duvet. “What did I say earlier about being a good girl, huh?” He questions as he unfastens his belt, discarding the garment onto the floor. “Don’t worry, Daddy, I’ll be good.” You say, sitting forward to relieve his hands of their duties, making short work of the fastenings of his suit pants, discarding them and his underwear into a pile on the floor. You grab his rock hard cock with your fingers, gently caressing it from base to tip. “You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?” He says, his hips bucking into your touch as he seeks for you to touch more of him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You say, before leaning forward, taking the tip of his cock into your mouth. He groans at the contact, your tongue licking the tip and your lips pressed tightly around the shaft. You push forwards, and he throws his head back in pleasure as his cock fills your mouth, a string of profanities leaving his lips from the sensation of you. His large erection fills your mouth, grazing the back of your throat, you sit like that for a moment, your tongue touching every part of him it can reach, before you begin to suck him off. Tears fill you eyes as you try and suppress gags, clenching your thighs together on the bed to relieve the growing desire for contact at your core. Max tangles his hands in your hair to push himself deeper into you, fucking your mouth hard for a few stokes before pulling you off of him. You lick the tip of his cock to remove the string of saliva that still connected the two of you and look up at him through your eyelashes, a hungry look in his eyes.

“It’s your turn, babygirl.” He says, pushing you back on the bed, grabbing your thighs tightly and pulling them apart. He kneels before you, pressing his face between your legs, his nose grazing your clit as he begins to eat you out, using his tongue to fuck you, tasting you with every movement. A combination of profanity and his name leak from your mouth as he pleasures you, sending a sensation through your body like you’d never felt before. “Fuck, Max, I need you inside me. I want to feel you.” You groan, your words breathy and strained as his tongue plays with your clit. “I want you to cum for me, babygirl.” He speaks into you, the vibrations of his voice against your wet pussy almost too much to bear. “Yes Daddy” You moan, your hands gripping the bedsheets, knuckles white. He sucks your clit, and the pressure of his tongue against you sends you over the edge, your hips bucking towards him pushing his face deeper into you. You let out a pornographic moan, and Max can’t help but laugh, the sensation of which makes your orgasm even more pleasurable as he does so. “You’re being so good for me, babygirl.” He says, as he sits back, allowing you to catch your breath as your moment of ecstasy ends.

Max stands and looks down at you on the bed, admiring the blissed out post-orgasm expression on your face. You can’t help but look up at him, his cheeks flushed and face glistening with a combination of sweat and your juices. A smug smile lingered on his lips, obviously proud of his work to make you cum so easily. While your experience in the bedroom wasn’t as extensive as people had speculated, your past experiences had left you looking for more in a sexual partner. Despite your hatred for him on the track, Max had proved to be exactly what you needed. Most men you’d been with before hadn’t even managed to make you cum once, leaving you to fake it to save the poor idiot’s ego, or just tell him to fuck off when you were feeling particularly frustrated. Before you, stood a man who had just given you one of the best orgasms of your life, and was preparing to give you another. The thing that pissed you off the most, was that of all people to make you feel this way, it had to be Max fucking Verstappen. In this moment, however, it didn’t matter. You wanted him. More of him. All of him.

“You’re good at that.” You say between breaths, and Max chuckles. “You want me to show you what else I’m good at?” He questions, a cocky smile on his face. “Oh, I already know.” You say, laughing slightly. You sit forward to grab Max’s shoulders, causing him to collapse on top of you. You wrap your arms around his muscular back, pulling him into you, his cock pressing against your entrance. “Where did my good girl go?” He questions and you pull his face closer to yours, your mouth pressed against his ear. “I got bored of her, now I want you to fuck me.” You whisper, your tongue caressing his ear lobe gently. Max places his hands either side of you on the bed, gaining his balance and lining himself up with your throbbing cunt. You could already feel the anticipation building within you, with every second that passes your ache for him to be inside you increasing exponentially. He carefully pushes himself into you, the sensation of him filling you up elicits a filthy moan to fall from your lips. Max begins to fuck into you, your nails digging deeper into his back with every thrust of his hips. He keeps his eyes fixed on yours with every motion, an expression of pleasure shared between the two of you as he leans forward to kiss your lips sloppily. Any voyeur looking in on this interaction could be fooled into thinking that the two of you were making love as any other couple would, but the truth of it all was you weren’t a couple. Enemies-with-benefits making hate with each other, expressing their extreme emotions in the most human way possible.

It wasn’t long until you found yourself close to your second orgasm of the night, as Max’s movements became sloppier as he thrust into you. “Fuck, (Y/N), I’m close” He says through heavy breaths. “Me too” You respond, your fingers clawing at the man’s back to hold him close. He is the first to fall over the edge, his hot seed filling you up inside. He continues to thrust into you through his orgasm, his movements erratic as his eyes roll back in pleasure. The sensation of his undoing begins your own, as your walls clench around him and your grip on his shoulders weakens in pleasure. The room is filled with the sound of heavy moans, the sound of both your names falling from the other’s lips, and the sound of sex. Max collapses onto you as he finishes, laying there, your arms still wrapped around him. He pulls himself off of you and lies next to you, freeing the sheets from below the two of you and covering your bare bodies. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you close to him. “Stay with me tonight?” You ask, gazing into his bright eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.” He responds, gently stroking your hip with his thumb.

Tag List (hope these all work lol): @vinvantae @ujisworld @heyitskay-21 @starjane312

#Max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen imagine

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quickdeaths · 2 years

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@healingbrews

“I’m losing my touch,” Jason mumbled to himself, holding his hand over his collarbone with a wince, blood leaking through his gloves to drip slowly to the ground. “What would Batman say?” Meaningless question. Bruce would start off stern but faux-understanding, pretending he had some moral high ground and only wanted to help, until something Jason said pushed him too far, and then he’d clench his fist, set his teeth on edge, and apologize, always apologizing, and ask him to leave. On the way out, he’d get a glimpse of Dick, or Babs, maybe Steph or the little gremlin if he was lucky, and they’d share some silent look without saying anything.

Something like that. Whatever.

Bruce wasn’t here anyway. It was just Jason, a handful of unconscious and badly-battered traffickers, and the bullet lodged just beneath his clavicle. Stupid mistake, to not see the black gun against his black jacket. Normally he’d have been better than that, but the scum was wearing a stupid trucker hat with a dorky slogan on it. So stupid that he’d even taken notice of it, even if it reminded him of Roy.

Even if it reminded him of how much he missed that guy.

“Dammit,” he muttered, pulling his hand away to see the small pool that rested in his palm. Probably, he’d be fine. Ever since his ill-conceived date with a Lazarus Pit, Jason Todd was pretty hard to kill. Normally, he could expect the bullet to get pushed out, the bone to firm up, the entry wound to knit itself back together after a day or two of pain.. Then again, this was... more blood than was probably healthy.

Shooting up a flare to let GCPD know where they could scrape the garbage off the pavement, he made himself scarce. Surgery wasn’t one of his many skills, and going to Alfred meant having to talk to Bruce and the others, and that didn’t seem like a good idea. So he did what any normal, well-adjusted murderous psychopath would do: break into a hospital.

He was sitting in the clinic room when the doctor came in, his leather jacket wrapped around his neck and upper chest to keep from dripping blood onto the floor. She looked professional, and kind enough. Maybe this wouldn’t be a total disaster. “Hey,” he offered with a smile and a weak wave, not that she could see it from beneath his helmet. “I’m Red Hood. Criminal, vigilante, anti-hero, #2 sexiest costumed man in Gotham according to Buzzfeed, and I have been shot. Please don’t scream.” Probably should have led with that part.

#healingbrews #c; the red hood

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lindsaywesker · 1 year

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Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day. Welcome to Too Much Information Tuesday!

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Beaver College, Pennsylvania, changed its name to Arcadia in 2001 because anti-porn filters blocked access to the school's website.

In 2018, 50 Cent purchased 200 tickets to a Ja Rule concert and left the seats empty, just so it would look like nobody was there.

A 10 year old mattress weighs double its original weight. Mould, skin cells, dandruff and sweat are the biggest reasons for this.

Robert Downey Jr was once arrested after he was caught driving naked in his Porsche with cocaine, heroin, and a .357 magnum.

The iPhone is the second highest selling product of all time, behind the Rubik's Cube.

Studies show that Wednesday is the best day of the week to go out on a first date.

In 1994, L.A. police arrested a man for dressing up as the Grim Reaper and standing outside the windows of old peoples' homes.

At a cost of $30 million, Facebook owner Mark Zuckerberg purchased all four homes surrounding his house in order to ensure his privacy.

When you walk into a room and you forget why you walked in there in the first place is the phenomenon known as "event boundary."

A lot of lovemaking can unblock a stuffy nose. Sex is a natural antihistamine. It can help combat asthma and hay fever.

Rapper Ice Cube rejected the role of Bubba in ‘Forrest Gump’. So did Dave Chappelle!

A Chinese millionaire began selling cans of fresh air for 80 cents a can in response to China's worsening air pollution and made over $6 million.

A study by the Journal Of Positive Psychology concluded that two thirds of humans have no idea what they're good at and what their strengths are.

The band Blink 182 incorporated under the name ‘Pennywise Poo Poo Butt Inc.’ so that their accountants, managers and attorneys would have to say that when doing business.

Research conducted at the University of Stanford concluded that a racially diverse group has the ability to solve problems more effectively than a group with only one race in it.

In 1916, there was a proposed Amendment to the U.S. Constitution that would put all acts of war to a national vote. Anyone voting "yes" would have to register as a volunteer for service in the army.

There is a town in Austria called Fucking. In 2004, when the mayor of Fucking was asked if he'd ever thought of changing the name of the town, he replied: "Everyone here knows what it means in English but, for us, Fucking is Fucking and it's going to stay Fucking."

In 2019, a man sued his employer for racial discrimination, they settled out of court. He took the settlement cheque to the bank, who called the police thinking it was fraudulent, leading to another racial discrimination lawsuit.

In 1936, the founder of Adidas, in an attempt to market his shoes, drove to the Olympics and persuaded U.S. sprinter Jesse Owens to wear them. Due to Owens' success, by WW2, they were selling 200,000 pairs a year.

In 1975, professor Jack Hetherington from Michigan State University added his cat as a co-author to a theoretical paper that he had been working on. He did this because he mistakenly used words like 'we' and 'our' in the paper and didn't feel like revising it.

In 1998, Marvel offered the movie rights to nearly all of its characters to Sony for just $25 million. Sony declined and only purchased the rights to Spiderman for $10 million. Sony believed he was the only character audiences would care about.

The Greek philosopher Diogenese was the world's first troll. He pestered and shouted obscenities at men using brothels so much that they gave him money to go away. Once he had enough money, he would use the brothel himself.

During World War 2, the U.S. air dropped ridiculously oversized condoms over Japan, in an attempt to demoralise the Japanese by making them believe that U.S. soldiers were so well-endowed the Japanese women wouldn't be able to resist them.

There is a company called Hoxton Street Monster Supplies that sells salt made from real human tears, and disturbingly there are four kinds, harvested from different moments: sneezing, chopping onions, laughter and anger. Their latest salt is from tears shed while home schooling.

An Australian man named Don Ritchie lives across the street from the most famous suicide spot in Australia; a cliff known as The Gap. He, alone, has prevented around 160 suicides in his 50 years of living there by striking up a conversation with people contemplating suicide.

In April of 2014 the Danish government built an exact replica of their country in Minecraft using four trillion Minecraft building blocks. It was intended for educational purposes but, within weeks, American players had invaded the game planting American flags and blowing things up.

Okay, that’s enough information for one day. Have a tremendous and tumultuous Tuesday! I love you all.

#mixcloud #mi soul #dj #music #new blog #lockdown #coronavirus #books #weekend #democracy #brexit #cronyism #election #tuesdaymotivation #radio

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allthingsdarkanddirty · 1 year

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I thought I could get away and relax. But that was scrapped the first day when Dash and FNG followed me on vacation. It was supposed to be a trip to reset my brain. To get away from all the women flooding work, desperate to be involved and blow stuff up, throw knives, and eat shawarma with the resident psychopath.

𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻’𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗽.

No, that would be the woman that shouldn’t have ever stepped foot in a desert. Whining and complaining were not supposed to happen on this trip. But it did. I should not have had to fight off a rabbit in a yurt. But I did. And that bighorn sheep…

But that was only the beginning of the worst vacation known to man. Then there were bullets, enemies coming from all directions, and the sexiest, most annoying woman directly in the center of it. And I had to protect her.

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✰ 𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗖𝗛 𝗨𝗣 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦 𝗧𝗢𝗗𝗔𝗬 ✰ #DownloadFree with #KindleUnlimited ➜ https://bit.ly/3IudBeh

#EmbraceTheSuckTeaserBlast #EmbraceTheSuckGiuliaLagomarsino #TeaserBlast #GiuliaLagomarsinoAuthor #OPSProtectorRomance #KU #Amazon #PreOrder #ComingSoon #AprilRelease #RomanticSuspense #ProtectorRomance #AlphaMale #EnticingJourney

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anthonysstupiddailyblog · 1 year

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Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (266): Wed 7th Dec 2022

Today was the anniversary of Pearl Harbour (the actual event not that fucking awful Ben Affleck movie. I’d actually like to see a movie that’s about the making of Pearl Harbour the movie but I suspect it would just be the screenwriter throwing a history book about Pearl Harbour in the bin and just writing a load of scenes involving explosions while also making the airplane and crashing noises). Buzz Aldrin wrote a tribute to those who died in the attack on Twitter and some idiot replied “Yeah but did you really land on the Moon”. I understand why idiots like this might write this kind of stupid comment under a Tweet by Aldrin commemorating the anniversary of the Moon landings but this was a completely different historical event so why bother trolling him on this day. I couldn’t let this moron’s stupidity slide so I wrote “Was it the guy behind the Denny’s?” and waited like a psychopath for him to reply. A few hours later he finally did reply “What?” and wrote “The person who sold you the crack you smoked before you wrote that comment. Was it the guy behind the Denny’s?”. I’m sure he’s replied by posting a link to a website where some crackpots have put up isolated pictures of the shadows of the Moon and the fact that the Lunar lander looks a bit like a pyramid or some conspiracy shit but I’ll never know because I’ve muted him like I always do after I hit someone with an absolute zinger.

I didn’t tune into Hollyoaks tonight but I did check Twitter later in the afternoon and was devastated to learn that they killed off Verity, possibly the fucking sexiest woman ever in the history of the show (or any show, except for Kilroy obviously). It turned out that it was Bobby who killed her by knocking a bookshelf onto her. I get that the reason they did this was to get the biggest amount of shock possible from the audience and people would be more shocked and sympathetic for a beautiful woman being killed off as opposed to if Bobby had killed off a right munter. However this seems to have backfired as the reaction from fans seems to be annoyance at this unnecessary decision. It could have been more impactful if they had built this storyline up a little bit but they just did it out of the blue. Plus Verity was such a useful character with plenty of potential storylines left for her to do so this decision feels like a big kick in the balls. In addition to the death of Verity another thing that seems to have depressed the fans is the fact that this Bobby shit is going to drag on for months. The idea of a killer kid is interesting but the kid they’ve gotten to play the kid is so annoying and under written which isn’t exactly scary. Before killing Verity he killed his grandfather by pushing him onto a giant electrified chessboard (not even joking) and although he’s responsible for his stepfathers death he didn’t really kill him, he just left him inside of a burning building and didn’t tell anyone he was in there. He’s also barely in the show. He just pops up every now and again and does naughty stuff with no explanation given. He’s hardly Michael Fucking Myers. Man I’m so disappointed Verity is gone. So many moments she could have had if they’d let her stay and become a long running character but sadly we’ll never know now.

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don-lichterman · 2 years

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Heavy Metal 2000

Price: (as of – Details) In the tradition of the groundbreaking cult classic, HEAVY METAL, comes HEAVY METAL 2000, the sexiest animated sci-fi adventure ever. When lowly space pirate Tyler gets his hands on the key to the chamber of immortality, he becomes a powerful psychopath prepared to destroy anything and anyone in his path. After ravaging the peaceful planet, Eden, buxom avenger F.A.K.K.2…

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more-cardigan-than-woman · 2 years

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Bad Friends.

Summary: Hanging out at your boyfriends club was always more fun with Harley, unfortunately he's not a big fan of hers.

Pairing: Reader x Roman Sionis

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: SMUT, exhibition, Daddy kink, swearing, restrains, death threats, knives.

AN: I'm officially off the rails about Roman Sionis. There's just something about a psychopath in the suit that does it for me. @littleredwing89 as promised, I did manage to finally finish it,

"Hey Harls!" you shout, spotting your friend from across the bar waving her down towards you. She always did have the greatest fashion sense, the puffy jacket covering the yellow and pink striped overalls was really working for her somehow. You knew you'd never be able to pull off.

"Hey sugar," Harley says as she hands you a pink cocktail, "how's things?"

"Good," you say smiling over at Roman who was currently charming the pants off Falcone.

"Geez, I gotta say. I never thought a smart girl like you'd end up with this guy," she throws her hand over her shoulder at Roman.

"Even smart girls make mistakes," you raise your glass, but your eyes focus on the pudding cups tattoo that was now on her leg.

"Guess ya right, cheers to smart girls with dumb pussy's," You sat with Harley drinking the night away while Roman schmoozed with the crowd. Well until Harley, well- she was a bit too much for Romans liking and with about 30 drinks in her she got up. Throwing the puffy jacket away and digging into her pocket to throw glitter on you, "I dub thee, the sexiest queen of crime Gotham has ever seen," she says leaning down to lay what you assumed is suppose to be an affirming kiss on your forehead.

"Are you trying to get killed?" You say, tugging her on the arm and pulling her off the table. You don't even have to look to know that Roman is headed straight toward you, "you need to go," your voice rushed and panicky

"He won't kill me, loves you too much," she says, twirling around and kissing you on the cheek.

"Harley," you state at her, "Go. Now."

"Ugh, spoil sport," she winks at Roman before turning and fleeing through the crowd and hopefully out the back door.

"Hey handsome, you just missed Harley," you smile sweetly up at him, "how's your night going?"

"Hows-" he growled yanking you up to your feet by your hair, his glove slicing into your skin, "how's my fucking night going?" His voice deep and dark in your ear.

"I was having a good time, but then Harley had to go," you lie, "need someone else to keep me entertained now," you purr, nuzzling your face into his chest.

"Where did she go?" He pulls you in front of him, holding your wrist to his mouth as he bites down on the back of your wrist, "tell me kitten,"

You bite down on your lip, your eyes looking back lustfully at him. "What's in it for me?" You ask, pressing the silk of your short dress into his front, your hand clinging to his lapel.

"How bout a dance?"

"Can we dance first?"

He points to the DJ, guiding you to the dancefloor, his hands possessively on your ass while he grinds you into him. They snake up your sides lifting your arms above your head, he spins you. Bring your arms down as your back rests against his front and your arms are wrapped around you. Fuck, he tricked you! His teeth bite harshly into your neck, his cock grinding into your ass while your arms remain useless in his hold.

"Where's Quinn?" He growled, licking up your neck and sticking his tongue in your ear.

"Who?" You said your mind swirling as he rocked behind you.

"Where is she?" His arm stays holding yours tight while the other grazes up your thigh. You can feel all the eyes of the club on you, everyone watching and waiting to see what's going to happen next.

"She- she-" you pant, he spins you again, his hand wraps on your throat making you look at him in the eyes, but all you can see is 50 pairs of eyes behind him, all of them staring at you.

"Answer me kitten, or I'll have to remind all these nice people who you belong to." Roman's hand slides under your necklace, a soft, black velvet choker, his fingers flicking at the little golden R hanging from the front.

"I don't know," you smirk up at him, "she could be halfway to Star City by now." he tugs on the back of your necklace, forcing your head into his chest. He tilts your head up with his thumb, your lustful eyes meet his, biting down on your lip as a growl escapes his lips.

"That the way you want it?" He raises an eyebrow at you and you give him a small nod that only he would be able to see, "you little whore," he slaps you, "thinking anyone can touch you." he shouts loud enough for the everyone to hear.

'No," you pretend to quiver, fear in your eyes for your audience. "Let go of me, I'm sorry "you cry, trying to squirm from his embrace.

"You will be sorry," he sneers at you throwing you into a nearby table, his hands pinning yours above your neck, his crotch grinding into yours, his body covering most of you on the table, "you fuckin whore, think anyone can touch you?" He spits on you, most of it going on your face. You resist the urge to swipe your tongue over it and collect it in your mouth. He see's it though, pursing your lips together between his soft gloved fingers, he spits right in between your lips, "Lick it up whore," he commands you, "Get that fuckin' bitches taste off you," you dart your tongue out eager to swipe his taste into your mouth.

"No, no Roman I'm sorry," you plead, arousal shooting up through your pussy.

"Think anyone can pet my kitten the way I do?"

"It was a mistake," your voice pleading with him, "She didn't mean anything by it,'

"No more excuses slut," he slaps you, dragging you so your ass is almost hanging off the table.

A sound echoed from around you and you could hear the collective arousal from your onlookers. Your eyes dart around the room, they're all looking. Waiting eagerly for Roman to take you. Nudging your nose into his, you blink 3 times at him. You didn't have a safe word exactly, because usually you were so fucked out you had no words.

Roman leaned forward, his face cupping yours in aggressively. His hair falling to a curtain between you and the crowd he kissed you sweetly on the nose. His sign that he understood, before pulling back and yanking you to your feet.

"On the table whore," he said, slapping you on the ass, your legs are shaky and your dress rides up as you climb atop, your hands gripping the pole for stability. He stood up onto the booth taking your wrists and securing them behind your back with your fancy cuff bracelets he had made for you. His hand coming around to wrap around your waist, the other grips your throat and dings your head into the pole, his firm hold on your neck forcing you to look at the crowd, "Your mine kitten," he sneered, pulling a knife from somewhere, the cold steel gliding along your arm, stopping just before it reached your strap when he moved from you.

Jumping down and glaring at the crowd, "this isn't a fucking peep show," he growled at them, "GET OUT!" he shouted, throwing the knife into the crowd, "OUT!" He commanded, glaring at them until every single person had left the club. You could feel your arousal drip down your legs, fuck you loved it when he used his power to clear a room. You began to rub your thighs together, desperate for some kind of friction. Your movements halting the moment he turns and his eyes stare straight at your mess of a pussy.

Your eyes drink him in as he strutted over to you, his blue eyes hungry as he watched you squirming on the pole. You pull at your restraints, your ass parting and rubbing along the pole, the cool steel sending chills through your body. Good the idea of everyone watching turned you on but the practice was another thing.

"Now kitten," he said, twirling a knife in his hand, "about Miss Quinn," the knife sliced through your dress splitting it down the middle. The cold steel caressing your torso and knicks into your collar bones, two tiny cuts left in their wake. You moan when he presses his mouth over the wounds, licking your blood from your body.

"Hey, that was expensive," you protest your voice breathless and your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

"I know, I bought it," he says, the knife traveling up to your throat pressing into you. Before gliding down to your bra band. The black and gold lace splitting as he tore through it, gliding it back until it met the cuffs at your wrists. His lips graze along your collarbone bone, while the knife slices through your panties. The metal makes a small cut into your thigh and you feel your pussy clench. Fuck, he was good at this,

"Tell me where she is," he says, his fingers grinding into your now drenched pussy, his lips sucking on your thigh, "oh kitten," he cooed venomously, "this for me?"

"Yes Daddy," you purr pushing back into him

"Not for Quinn?" He bit down on your leg, his tongue lathing over the teeth marks and tiny cuts.

"You, only you," you close your eyes relishing at how the leather of his gloves feels against your pussy.

"Kitten," he growls, delving his face into your pussy, his tongue parting your lips, his hand holding onto your ass to grind your face into him while he stands beneath you.

"Fuck, get down here," he pulls your feet from under you, your ass slamming into his hands. The leather gets caught between you and the table as he drags you to the edge, your arms go taut around the pole.

"Fuck kitten," he says undoing is pants in a rush and pulling his cock put. Fuck you loved it when he fucked you while he was dressed, you lifted your hips hoping to pull him into you, "Daddy's little whore aren't you," he said pressing your hips back into the table, his cock gliding through your folds. "Tell me where she is," he commanded, "or you wont get your treats,"

"Fuck, please fuck me Daddy," you cried your hips twitching as your tried to move, but he was so much stronger than you.

" Tell me," he nudged his thick head against your clit, sending shivers all over, "tell me or you won't come for a month,"

"Fuck, she's-" you dug through your head for a plausible lie, but with your mind swirling there was only one name that kept popping up, "Flag." You pant, your body desperately jerking beneath him, "she went to hide with Flag,"

"Good girl," he said, spearing his cock into you, filling you up and stretching you out, "that wasn't so hard was it. Not like this is going to be," With his firm grip on your hips and his mouth devouring yours he pounded into you. His punishing pace lifting you off the table as his course hair brushed against your clit, "fuck kitten your so tight, I can feel you pulsing around me."

His cock throbs inside you, grinding against your precious spot, he grabs your legs throwing them over his elbows, pressing deeper into you "fuck! Daddy-" you scream, his teasing had you so worked up that it sent you over the edge much sooner than expected. Your legs shaking and your mind going blank, until a sharp sting on your cheek brings you from your reverie.

"Did I tell you you could cum?" He sneers down at you holding your face tight in his fingers.

"I-" you pant "I couldn't help it, you're fuckin me so good, Daddy,"

"Going to have to do it again now kitten, Daddy wants you to come with him," your overstimulated pussy still pulsating around his thick cock. "You're going to be a good girl and cum when I say," he tells you, lifting you back as he climbs onto the table to engulf you in him. He surrounded you, your legs wrapping around his waist and his hand still holding your face, while the other held onto your ass.

"Ye-" you moan, feeling a second wave bubbling inside you.

"Such a good girl with my cock deep inside you aren't you kitten," he moaned, his pace faltering as he came close to his own release.

"Close," you whimper, your eyes locking with his beautiful feral blue ones. He snarled back at you biting down on your lip and drawing blood, licking at it. His tongue swirling the blood into your mouth.

"Cum on me then , be a good girl and cum with Daddy," his deep voice moaning into your mouth, his hand tightening around your throat as he ground into you. You felt his cock throb in your pussy and his cock sputtering in your pulsating walls loading you full of his hot Daddy juice. The warmth hurtling you over, you bit down on his lip hoping to stifle your cries.

Flicking your fingers over your cuffs, you release your hands bringing them around him to hold him close to you. Your hands travel along the smooth Egyptian cotton of his shirt. Your breath heavy and Romans face buried in your breasts as he caught his own.

"Fuckin hell kitten," he says looking up at you, "you're gunna kill me. You really need to be friends with her?"

"I like her, she's fun," you say, patting down gently on his hair "most people in this city are boring,"

"I'm not boring," he says pulling back in offence, his face contorting back to frustration.

"Not you baby," you coo cupping his face and bring him into a kiss.

"You know where she is?" He asks and you nodd, "her apartment?" He confirms, and you nod again. "Maybe she needs a lesson on who you belong to,"

"Hmm.. and how are you gunna do that?" You ask stroking his hair back from his sweaty forehead.

"Show her who makes you scream like that,"

"Oh I'm sure she'd be real threatened by a porno," you snip back.

"She will be and you're going to play along," he stands taking your hand to help you up

"Oh am I?" You ask leaning into him, your shaking legs causing you to fall into his chest. He grips you by the ass hoisting you around his waist.

"Yes," he nudges your nose with his lips "because otherwise I'll just kill her."

"You wouldn't," you protest, kissing along his jawline as he begins to walk you upstairs.

"Those fuckin lips of hers touch you again and I will," he slaps your ass, jolting your ass up and grinding you into his shirt, "maybe you need another reminder of you belong to kitten,"

"Maybe I do,"

#roman sionis x reader #fem reader x roman sionis #roman sionis smut #roman sionis x you #roman sionis imagine #black mask x reader #black mask x you #fem reader x black mask #roman sionis #black mask #black mask reader insert

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luvdsc · 4 years

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too hot! hot damn!

what do you get when you mix red and blue together?

pairing :: lee taeyong x reader genre :: fluff / boyfriend au word count :: 2,121 words warnings :: a tiny paragraph about making out playlist :: cherry kisses (chungha) ⋆ daft pretty boys (bad suns) ⋆ hands on me (taeyeon) ⋆ crash my car (coin) ⋆ shy (hunny) author’s note :: to the insanely talented goddess who wrote the first nct fic i ever read nearly 3 years ago and still love to this day!!! i didn’t think i’d ever get to be friends with one of my favoritest writers on here, but here we are :’) ily els @taeyongtime ♡

“It’s hot.”

You’re draped across the old, yet still very plush couch, the kitschy pattern spread across it now fondly regarded as one of the things that transforms this dingy little place from a shoebox apartment into home. The thin spaghetti strap of your faded tie-dyed tank top from your old sorority days hangs limply off of your shoulder, threatening to fall even more when you slump over to the left. The simple drawstring shorts you have on barely cover your legs, but you contemplate tossing them off still because it’s just. So. Damn. Hot.

“It’s hot!” you whine even louder, throwing your arms up in the air before letting them flop down onto the cushions dramatically. The nearby open window only blows in a measly little breeze that does nothing except dry the sweat on your skin for a few glorious seconds before it reappears like a stubborn stain. Your boyfriend only raises an eyebrow at you from his spot on the floor, sprawled out in front of said window and using one of his Nylon magazines as a makeshift fan.

Taeyong agrees, flapping the glossy pages in front of his face desperately. “It’s too hot.”

Two days consisting of barely surviving the power outage creeps into a third, the prospect of having AC again anytime soon becoming extremely bleak. The transformer had completely blown out, and the electric company finally sent out a crew to fix it earlier this morning. The estimated restoration was initially set to noon, but it was pushed back until 3 p.m., then 6 p.m., then 10 p.m., then 5 a.m., and now the big black bolded letters spelling out “undetermined” mocks you from the screen of your phone that's already set to the lowest brightness setting to conserve battery.

To make it worse, your city was suffering a heat wave, temperatures spiking to 105 degrees Fahrenheit every single day and simmering down to 80 during the night before climbing the thermostat again. The raging thunderstorm that plagued last night only resulted in unexpected humidity, making your clothes stick to you like a second skin.

“Make it less hot,” you moan, blowing air upwards towards your forehead in an attempt to cool down in the slightest way possible.

“I can’t control the weather, babe, but I can get you a popsicle?” Taeyong sluggishly pushes himself into a sitting position to face you. The shiny magazine in his hand still flounders around until he gives up on it and tosses it aside.

You turn your head, cheek pressing into the couch cushion, as you squint at him. “We don’t have any left. We took all our food from the fridge to Doyoung’s place. I can’t believe that bastard has a gigantic generator and is flourishing in his stupid air conditioned apartment and making frozen sangrias, while his best friends are about to die from heatstroke.”

You had sent back a rather crass Snapchat back to Doyoung after he sent one earlier of his perfect, Instagram story worthy, iced alcoholic beverage. It’s honestly a miracle that he didn’t toss your beloved brown sugar boba ice cream bars out onto his pristine balcony with picture perfect potted plants to perish. That man can still hold onto a grudge even after he’s on his deathbed and descending into the fiery pits.

Taeyong stands up and slowly ambles towards the refrigerator. “I saved two popsicles in the freezer. I figured it’d stay cold enough and not melt if we ate them soon.”

“Oh my god, that’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.” You struggle to push yourself up into a sitting position before finally being able to, watching your boyfriend open the freezer and pull out the last two saving graces.

“Do you want blue raspberry or cherry?”

He holds out the two icy sweets in front of you, one in each hand. You already know that he secretly wants the red one; it’s been his favorite ever since he was five and tried his very first one from the ice cream truck that still comes around his parents’ neighborhood. But you also know that he always lets you choose first and wouldn’t complain if you take that one.

You reach out and pluck the blue one from his grasp, and he smiles happily, eyes crinkling in the corners as he eagerly unwraps the cherry flavored one and shoves it in his mouth, tossing the wrapper into the nearby wicker trash basket.

He drops down onto the empty space next to you, reclining back and slouching in his seat. The two of you sit there peacefully, side by side and enjoying the cold snacks, until he wordlessly slides over, pressing the side of his arm and leg against yours.

“Move back,” you complain, shoving him over to his original position. “It’s hot, and you’re making it worse.”

“So are you calling me hot?” Taeyong wriggles his eyebrows at you before taking a bite of his popsicle, much to your horror. He moves closer to you again for the sole sake of annoying you.

“First off, I’m calling you sweaty. Secondly, did you just bite your ice cream?” You throw him a dirty look before moving over and turning to sit with your back against the arm rest, throwing your legs over his lap.

Taeyong slightly pouts at you, munching on yet another chunk of his popsicle and ignoring the way you wrinkle your nose in disdain. “What’s wrong with that? It’s melting, and I don’t want it to drip and get my hand all sticky.”

You can’t believe that you just discovered your boyfriend is a psychopath. He’s going to the same circle of hell as people who pour milk in before cereal and those who hate mint chocolate chip ice cream once he leaves this earth (He can even say hi to Doyoung as he descends to eternal damnation).

“Why didn’t you say anything about this before we started dating?” You are absolutely appalled. Horrified. Disgusted. This is the biggest relationship deal breaker you have ever come across.

“Next, you’re gonna say you hate me because I don’t like pineapple on pizza,” he says as his free hand settles on the top of your thigh, gently tapping rhythmically against it absentmindedly.

“Oh my god, you absolute heathen.” You really thought Taeyong was the perfect man of your dreams, but you unfortunately realize belatedly that even he has flaws. Some inexcusable ones, in fact.

In the midst of your lamenting, you fail to notice melting sugar slowly trickling down until it leaves a sticky mess all over your hand. Desperately, you toss the empty popsicle stick into the nearby waste basket before licking off the remnants of your icy blue treat from your fingers.

“See? It melted all over you. I told you so,” Taeyong childishly sticks out his tongue as he waves his clean hand and empty popsicle stick around as if to emphasize his point.

“Your tongue’s red,” you say, chuckling slightly, and his eyes widen at this newfound revelation.

“Wait, stick out your tongue,” he demands as he throws away the wooden stick, and you comply with his request. He grins, delighted. “Yours is blue!”

He sticks out his tongue again, almost going cross eyed as he tries to catch a glimpse of his own. At that, your eyes zero in on his cherry stained lips, and an ingenious idea pops up in your mind as the sudden urge to kiss your boyfriend silly makes itself very known.

“Hey, wanna play a game, Yongie?” you ask slyly, and his attention immediately turns to you at the word “game,” interest piqued and eyes fixated on you.

“What kind of game?” he inquires cautiously, taking note of the mischievous glimmer in your eyes. You look like you’re up to no good, and your boyfriend wouldn’t be surprised if you have something up your metaphorical sleeve (Because nobody sane enough would be wearing something with sleeves in this weather from hell. In fact, you’re 66.6% percent certain that those fiery pits are probably cooler compared to here).

“Too hot.”

“Yes, it is,” he acknowledges, shaking his head in agreement, and you laugh, fanning yourself with your hands. “No, silly, I meant the game.”

“It’s called ‘too hot’?” He raises an eyebrow at you, and you confirm, nodding your head. The expression of skepticism on his face says it all, so you throw in your bargaining chip.

“I hid a chocolate bar in the freezer’s ice chest. The winner can have it.”

His doe eyes immediately light up at the mention of his favorite sweet, and he grabs your hand, squeezing it tightly. “Okay, how do I play?”

“We kiss,” you start, and he’s already pulling you towards him enthusiastically, causing soft laughter to bubble up from your throat, before you swat his hands away. “Hey, hey, hey, I wasn’t done explaining it yet! There’s no touching allowed.”

“That’s no fun,” Taeyong whines, lips jutting out into a tiny pout that you want to kiss away already. “You said this is a game. Games are supposed to be fun.”

“But you’re getting kisses, and it’s already hot so it’s better this way,” you coax, and he relents with a drawn out sigh, and you quietly cheer. “Okay, ready?”

Taeyong gives you a tiny nod, and you grin before leaning in, eyes fluttering close. You gently place your lips against his, and he holds still. But then, a few seconds later, you feel his fingers barely grazing your cheek, and you immediately pull away with a frown.

“Baby, I told you that you can’t touch!”

“That rule is dumb,” he complains, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child. You frown at him, pouting until he gives in again because it’s you and he’d cross oceans and climb mountains for you.

“Okay, let’s try again,” he grumbles, glowering as he absentmindedly cards his hand through his hair, and you positively beam at him, and the sulking expression on his face softens almost instantly.

“What if we do baby steps first?” You pull your legs up onto the couch, sitting up on your knees and facing him. He fully turns to look at you, head cocked to one side.

“What do you mean?”

You lean forward and peck his cheek before moving back to your original position. “Like that. Now your turn.”

A lightbulb goes off in his head, and Taeyong leans forward and gingerly places a kiss on your forehead with an endearing smile. You inch forward and kiss his other cheek. He plants a tiny kiss to the tip of your nose, and you lean in to delicately leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth. He presses a kiss to the corner of your lips, and you do the same to the opposite side, much to his utter frustration.

This time, Taeyong chases after you when you pull away. You let out a noise of surprise as he gently tugs you forward, crashing his lips against yours and muffling your laughter, and you find yourself straddling your boyfriend. Your hands wind up tangled in his hair, while his arms lock around your waist and hold you close, game be damned.

You can taste a faint trace of cherry, causing the corners of your mouth to curl into the minutest hint of a smile before you press your mouth against his more firmly as he kisses you back eagerly until you both run out of air, pulling away breathlessly with identical smiles.

“You lost,” you tease, poking his cheek with your finger as your other hand curls around his shirt. He makes a face at you, his hands still resting on your waist, and you find that you don’t mind the warmth of them against your skin even in this ruthlessly blazing weather.

“But you’ll share the chocolate, right?” he mumbles, face still flushed and lips redder than before. He traces soft patterns against your hip as you tilt your head to the side, faking your hesitation.

“Hmm, I don’t know, should I? I won fair and square.”

He sticks his tongue out at you. “Meanie.”

You laugh, sliding off his lap and onto the empty seat next to him (albeit a little unwillingly, but it’s still hot as hell unfortunately, and conserving body heat together isn’t helping at all). Your boyfriend frowns, mostly because you’re no longer sitting in his lap, but partly because he doesn’t understand why you’re laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

Your grin widens, eyes sparkling like you know something he doesn’t (because you do). “Baby, your tongue’s purple.”

Taeyong turns a shade brighter than his favorite popsicle flavor.

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thistle-and-thorn · 2 years

Note

What are your thoughts on Outlander??

My thoughts on Outlander. Buckle up, babe.

First of all, everyone I know except for me loves these books and this show. My closest friends LOVE this show. I know I am so very alone.

TW: mentions of sexual assault

Okay but here’s my numbered list:

1. Claire is Boring. She just is. She’s one of those heroines who is “headstrong” which translates to “dumb.” She has no reaction really to the things that surround her and I felt the show hugely skated past her grief at losing her husband. I just feel like I’ve met a character like her a dozen times before and I’m over it.

2. Jaime is Also Boring. Insert all of the above. He’s young and charismatic and angry and so is every male protagonist of every novel ever written. Thank you next.

3. Dougal is clearly the sexiest character on this show and no one agrees with me even though I am CLEARLY correct.

3a. If you’re going to fall in love with a problematic Scottish man, make it be DOUGAL. I will never understand why she turned him down lol. That could have been so interesting 😭😭😭 enemies to lovers ftw.

4. All the side characters are 7000x more interesting and compelling than the main couple. Geilish/Dougal is a GREAT pairing btw—he’s the frustrated rebellious brother of the laird and she’s a time traveling pagan witch lady like. I want to know their love story. The laird lives with a visible disability and commands the respect of his men—what’s his story? He clearly loves his wife—what about their marriage? The English doctor dude? He’s cool. The guy who wanders the heath. What’s going on with him? I basically care much more about everyone else EXCEPT jaime and Claire but those characters are shoved aside again and again to make room for what? Jaime does something stupid or Claire does something stupid or he has to whisper Sassenach in her ear or something.

5. The amount of sexual assault on this show is just—so. much. Like gratuitous. I have a pretty high squick threshold but my LORD IN HEAVEN. They invested an entire episode into an extremely graphic assault and then the next season—all Jaime needed was some good Heterosexual Monogamous Love and he’s fine, I guess. They made some effort to show trauma but not enough to justify spending like 45 minutes exclusively focused on extended scenes of sexual violence. Claire gets assaulted like 5 times. I guess (spoiler) something happens at the end of season 5 and she’s dealing with the fall out of that in the newest season but it’s like—how is this different than any other thing that’s happened to you for like 10 years.

6. Frank is great actually? They have a heathy, mutually satisfactory sex life. He’s supportive of her. He’s intelligent. And most importantly, he comes from a time with indoor plumbing, vaccines, and cars. Like I am sorry but there is no love—I don’t CARE if this Scottish man is my soulmate—I am LEAPING at the chance to get back to the 20th century lol.

7. The entire Bugle Boy subplot made me want to curl up and DIE

8. The reunion scene between Frank and Claire had so much potential to be interesting and it’s so frustrating because it’s NOT. Like this is a situation where she is seeing a man who she LOVED who had a startling resemblance to a man who horribly abused her family, she’s split between two places. Like there’s so much meat there and it’s—they erased all the nuance of the situation and I am so sad.

9. Queer coded people are only good to be villains who are creepy on the Good Straight Men and die in horribly violent ways. Like I don’t think all queer people should be good in media. But when every single gay character is…a psychopath? Ummmm. Also, distinct lack of lesbians. (This could be different in later seasons but that’s the trend in the earlier parts)

10. The whole we’re going to save highland culture thing by making Culloden happen is dumb. Claire, you know how you save highland culture—maybe learn to speak the language lol? For someone concerned with cultural heritage management, this woman isn’t that concerned with learning much about them. Maybe, concentrate on preserving Highland traditions when you get back to the 20th century? The best way to save the highland culture is to actually engage with it, Claire.

11. Am I the only one who remembers when Jaime non consensually beats his wife? Just me? Okay, just me.

#asks

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ahsxual · 3 years

Text

Purple and Green Desire

Pairing: Ledger!Joker x Female!Reader

Summary: You wanted to make J a surprise by painting your hair half purple, half green, and provoke him to see what his reaction would be. Little did you know what would come for you...

Warnings: Rough and mad J, possessive and jealous J, J scaring the reader, reader with psychotic thoughts, sir kink, dom/sub, vaginal sex, hard spanking, oral sex (male and female), fingering, nipple play, some blood involved, swearing, degradation, a little bit of edging, mentions of anal sex

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 4,2 k

A/N: Sooo this was supposed to be posted on Halloween, but as always I'm late. I had this idea a while ago, and thought: "why not write a smut out of it?". I thought it would be a good idea to join your request and my ideas together, my lovely @mountainjiwish. Thank you so much for your incredible idea!! I wanted to write something like this for so long, but I thought I wouldn't be able to write such a rough J fic... but how do we know we're not good at something if we don’t try it? Anyway, I still hope you all enjoy it <33

In the last few months, your life has changed drastically. You never thought you would be where you were right now, however you couldn't complain about it, not at all. How could you? You received what you had always wanted and desired for the longest time, something you had always idealized, waiting for your darkest kinks turn into reality with someone you trusted... and he, well, he could have his little toy only for himself, something he didn't know how tremendously he craved until he landed his hungry eyes on you.

If it was possible, your relationship would be seen as extremely toxic by others: you didn't have, or at least you never admitted out loud, the true feelings you had for each other. You just made your darkest wishes come true every time you were together, feeding the hunger that was growing inside your hearts and cores, and that only you could make that happen.

He could be compared to the biggest and most dangerous lion in the jungle, and you to a little masochist deer who would always be eager for the lion to come after you, and eat you in the most cruel way possible. But what was "funny" to you, was the fact that the lion would never let his deer escape from him without causing it some deep wounds... however, he would never kill the deer, wanting for it to come back to him so he could catch it and have some fun. That was the game you both enjoyed playing since day one.

Today was october 31st, your favorite day of the year. Why? It's simple: on this day, you felt like you could be yourself, without being judged or being too obvious that you also had psychopathic instincts. Of course you had your own dark thoughts. Of course you also had the cruel desire to rip someone's throat every time they messed with you or with someone you loved. But you didn't have enough courage to cause such bloody chaos, so instead you decided to be with someone who represented your inner self. Unlike you, J does not fear the consequences of his acts, or even feels guilty. But you do, so that's why it's so much funnier to watch the world burn by someone you love. That way you don't have to feel guilty about anything, because you didn't do anything by your own hands, right? You're not guilty for liking to see the blood coming out of people's mouth and eyes, while they scream in agony. You're not guilty for craving so much to watch the world be destroyed by the scalding fire before your sadic eyes, to love someone who would realize your wishes for you. But that didn't matter right now. What mattered is that you wanted to surprise J, to show him once agaim how a good and dedicated submissive you are for him.

You painted your hair half purple, half green, and put it in two ponytails, each one with a different color, while your makeup also had those gorgeous colors. You wanted to look sexy, yet cute and innocent for him, even if you were the bratiest woman he had ever met in his entire life. And believe me... he had met a lot of girls. Yet none of them were as good as you, and none of them would be loyal and stay with him for so long, even when he had been considered a monster before everyone's eyes... but not yours. He always saw you as his little bunny, his little doll, his little loyal masochist... and he surely planned to keep you for himself for a very long, long time. Your outfit was a little different and scandalous too: you dressed yourself in a fit leather dress you had recently bought, with the highest leather boots you had in your wardrobe, while wearing your sexiest black lace thong briefs and the choker with a diamond "J" on it that he gave you in the beginning of your "relationship". This item was utterly sacred. He always made you to wear it: everyday, at any second of the day, so you wouldn't forget to who you belong to. You then thought carefully if you should wear a bra or not, and decided it would be better if you didn't wear any at all, before putting a comfortable leather jacket on.

You checked yourself in the mirror and for what felt like an eternity, you felt stunning. Halloween never failed to make you feel more confident about yourself, neither the expensive clothes J "bought" you or the compliments he gaves after seeing you wearing them. You stared in the mirror a little while, until you realized that you had something that was excessive on your body: the "J" choker. You knew too well that he would be furious if he didn't see you wearing it... but after all, that's what you wanted, to see the ravenous lion being released from its cage. However, you didn't feel satisfied. Not yet. You were also planning something else to make him even more mad: what about, pretending you went to a party without his gift and permission, while using your favorite perfume in your most exuberant outfit, and then not giving him the attention he always craved from you? Deep down, you even feared he would kill you out of anger, because of your malicious and provocative plan... oh, you really didn't know who you were messing with. But thinking about it, what better way to die than to have sex with the person you were so immensely addicted to?

When you finished fixing your hair by making each ponytail look messy, you heard the door of your house being closed so hard that you genuinely believed he had broken it, which meant he was already mad. Perfect. You ran to your room and started to act normal, pretending to be packing your sex toys. But now that he was there, you felt yourself slightly shaking from pure fear and anticipation. You had a slight idea of what was coming, you just didn't know the gravity of it.

Suddenly your room's door was carefully opened, which wasn't a good sign. The calm before the storm. Maybe he felt your perfume from afar, and knowing that you would only use it for very special occasions, and that he wasn't there with you before, it only meant you did use it for something else. He could even be compared to a quiet dangerous dog, because of his keen sense of smell... and because of his unpredictable behavior. You could sense his stare burning into your back, but you acted like you had a durable shield against his fervent fire. You purposely positioned yourself in a way so that he had a good view of what you were doing: packing your sex toys that were forbidden to be used, unless J used them on you. Now, you could feel and smell the hot and suffocating flames of his fire getting way too intense. You then finished packing them under your bed, and stood up to take your jacket off, making sure he noticed you weren't wearing the choker he gave you.

"You don't look very joyful. Rough day?" you answered contemptuously, calmly taking your boots off in the process. From his point of view, you went somewhere else to do who knows what without his permission, and since you were too desesperate and lazy to undress yourself first, you masturbated with your clothes on. According to his perspective, you didn’t give a shit about his rules, like the obedient slut you should be to him.

Saying that his glare towards you was terrifying and caused shivers down your spine, was an absolute understatement. You instantly regreted making all of this up, but it was too late. Now, you would have to deal with the real consequences of your brat decisions. J slowly walked towards you, making you unconsciously step back until you met the rigid wall of your suddenly cold room. He was so close to you, making you feel his hot, yet deep and rhythmic breathing on your face, and without your leather boots, you felt once again intimidated by his much taller figure. He took this opportunity to analyze you better: your messy colored ponytails and makeup, that for a moment almost made him crack a smile because of your choices, your sexy outfit... to the absence of your necklace.

"Something is ah... missing on ya, dont'cha think, doll? Huh?" completely ignoring your question, he calmly, yet dangerously asked, making known the fact that he instantly noticed you weren't wearing his precious and meaningful accessory. His gloved hands slid to your naked neck and grabbed it forcefully, making you unable to respond him, because of the lacking of air in your throat and lungs. Once he realized you would literally pass out if he continued to choke you, he slightly let it go, just enough to make you receive some oxygen to your now extremely frightened brain.

"I don't k-know what you're talking about..." you really weren't one to give up easily. You wanted to see how your little game would end, even though you had just been almost choked to death. His pupils became so much darker once he realized what game you were playing.

"Ya don't... know?" he suddenly started laughing maniacally, the loudest and scariest sound you had ever heard in your entire life. You knew he had already discovered what your intentions were, however he still didn't know if the fact that you went out with someone else and played with yourself, was true. Yet you would keep him thinking about that... What a strong and determined woman you were.

His laugh started to slow down and his not so happy expression returned to his scarred face. "Do I really need to ah... remind ya of the rules dollface, huh?" his voice was deeper and hoarse, and you could tell he was trying to contain his humiliating words towards you to himself... at least for now. He walked away from you to grabbed the box under your bed, keeping an intense eye contact with you, and put it above the bed. You were watching very attentively with each step he made, not having the courage to look away from him. He then grabbed each vibrator you had, and started to break them with his own hands. Since when did he have so much strength??

"J, what the hell?!" you screamed at him and the moment you took a step forward, he nimbly took a knife from his pocket and pointed it in your direction.

"Ata-tada!" he warned you with his fatal object in his left hand while giving you a sharp stare, making you return immediately to your initial position. "Dont'cha wanna make things harder for yourself. This is all your fault." he grabbed a broken piece of your favorite vibrator and threw it caressly to a random corner of your room. Much to your control, your eyes started to water instantly: you wanted to provoke him, not ending up having your dear toys broken. But that's what you get when you get on J's nerves... and this was nothing compared to what he wanted to do to you...

A single tear came out of your eye and you instantly looked way, ashamed for feeling so unnecessarily sad for having your sexual toys destroyed. You closed your eyes, and all you could only hear, was your own sobs and his heavy steps.

"Shh-Shh why are ya crying bunny? Ya knew this was ah... gonna happen the moment you messed with your owner, didn't ya?" you didn't answer to him. You were way too pissed to give him what he wanted, but once again... you made the wrong choice. "ANSWER ME!" you never felt so intimidated by anyone the way you did at that moment. You were now trembling with fear, and even if you didn't want to admit it, you were also trembling by lust, excitement and hunger for him. He suddenly harshly grabbed your cheeks and made you look up at him: your makeup was already ruined because of the mix of emotions that filled your slippery salty tears, and by his rough movements on your face.

"YES!!" you responded the loudest you could, but he didn't seem satisfied.

"Yes, what?!" he asked calmer while tightening his grip on your aching jaw, yet he was calm by far.

"Yes sir!!!" for the first time for what felt like hours, you saw a proud grin form on his scarred cheeks. You unconsciously smiled too, but that didn't last for too long since he caressly shoved you against the bed. If your bed wasn't so soft, you were sure you would have bruises or even broken your face. He then roughly pinned your hands together, and tied them tightly with some handcuffs he found in the box beside you both. He turned you on your back, and instantly placed a knife on your jaw. You didn't dare to move, because if you did... that scene would definitely turn into a bloody mess. He was so concentrated on your body, memorizing every detail of your soft skin into his psychotic mind, and without a warning, he cut your dress in half with his pointy knife, and this time, you didn't dare to complain.

"Hmm, no bra..?" he pretended to look surprised and looked like he didn't care about your decision, but his body language betrayed his mind since his excitement was way more noticeable. "Now tell me... how ah... naughty and filthy can ya be, huh?" he then grabbed your hips with such force that you knew for sure he would leave dark bruises there. You didn't know anymore if it was the fact that you were so distracted in leading your own emotions, or if it was due to you being completely consumed by pure desire, that you didn't prepare yourself from what was coming: you suddenly felt his sharpened knife being softly, yet firmly craved into your chest. You couldn't see it, but you did feel the fatal object drawing a "J" letter on your once soft chest. He wanted to mark you forever, so if a goddamn choker couldn't make that happen... a deep scar definitely will. Your screams were mistaken for loud moans, so he continued to do his work, blood running out of your body into the sheets, that were once white, into a dark, permanent red.

When he turned you around, you felt another hot and painful sensation, but this time on your butt cheek, so painful and hard it was, that you almost fell out of the bed, only to be abruptly grabbed by your ponytails to make you still.

"Where do ya think you're going, huh?" he pushed you to himself by each ponytail. A muffled sound of pleasure and pain came out involuntarily of your mouth, yet you couldn't care less.

"Please..." you pleaded, blinded by the absurd amount of pleasure that was running into your veins for him.

"Please what, huh? Tell me... Tell your sir want you ah... desire from him. And if ya behave like ah... good little slut for him, maybe he will reward ya." you opened your eyes that were previously tightly closed and looked deep into eyes, noticing that his eyes were now completely black, like he was possessed by the devil himself. You could feel his huge and solid bulge leaning against your now reddish ass since he pulled you so close to him, and you knew that everything was finally leading to where you wanted.

"I want more... please sir, I want you to destroy me..." the moment those words came out of your mouth, he totally lost it. Neither him or you could hold yourselves anymore. With your leather dress thrown into a corner, your ass was now exposed. He caressed your butt not so softly with his strong hands, admiring the gorgeous view for a few seconds. Oh, how he loved to see his doll with lace.

Your room was then filled with loud moans, deep groans from him, and even louder sounds of skin being roughly spanked. He knows your limits very well, so he stopped once he noticed you couldn't take it anymore: after all, the pain is beauty for him, but so is pleasure and trust from both sides. Your ass was now covered in shades of dark purple and red, a view that J never got tired of... in fact, it was his favorite.

"The purple really ah... suits ya, doll. So does the green and the red..." he whispered more to himself, getting lost in the beauty of the job you both did: the spanking session he just gave you, and the look you chose for yourself that had everything to do with him, as it proved your submission for him as well. While he was saying that, you were trying to catch your breath and collect yourself from what just happened. Your ass was hurting so bad, and you were sure you wouldn't be able to sit properly for weeks, but the pleasure that came from it... it made it all worth it. You were almost getting your breath back, almost, when you felt your ponytails getting pulled once again. He really liked the idea of the colored ponytails, you proudly thought for yourself.

"Ata-tada, ya weren't going ta sleep on me, now would ya? Oh sweet cheeks, we are just-getting-started..." you shaked your head, and before he could punish you again, you immediately remembered what you must do.

"No sir!! I won't upset you again... I-I promise I will be a good slut for you!" you obediently answered, fearing to be punished again. Your makeup must be already ruined because of your uncontrollable crying. Your cheeks were covered in a black mascara, and purple and green makeup that was very blurred because your previous position, so it was practically inevitable to rub your face against the bed. This was something that always made J's pants twist with randiness: the messier, the better.

After your response, you heard a satisfied groan from his throat: he had already forgotten the fact that he was extremely mad, only for that feeling be replaced and completely consumed by lust. He then approached your neck and sucked it roughly, leaving marks that would last for a very long time because of the force it was made, while grabbing your throat to make you still. It came to your mind the idea of him being a vampire who was immensely thirsty by your blood.

You gently rubbed your ass on his throbbing, hard cock: it hurted really bad, but it was the only movement you could do to caught his attention, since he was restraining almost all of your body movements.

"Someone is feeling really eager, huh? Ha! All it takes is ta teach ya some ah... manners, to get those panties all soaked for me..." after that, he ripped your lace briefs with his own hands, making you flinch, and then put two long gloved fingers in you. He was never a very patient man and he wasn’t going to be now, so he started to finger you as fast as he could, curling his skilled fingers into your g-spot from time to time. It felt like pure bless, and it was impossible for you to contain all of your sweet sounds. But even if you did, you knew you would be in real trouble for containing them: J loved to hear your moans and screams of pleasure and pain for him, so he had forbidden you to hide them from him. When you were about to cum, he turned you around and replaced his experienced fingers by his hot and wet tongue on your clit, sucking it hard.

" Oh God, J!!" you moaned as loud as you could, and if it weren't the cuffs holding you still, you would ride your orgasm while fucking his face. This was the first time he let you cum without edging you first. Looks like he's feeling generous. Yet neither of you would be satisfied with only one orgasm, especially you, and J knew it.

"God has nothing to do with your ah... pleasure, doll. I am the only one who makes ya cum like a fucking squirter whore, do ya hear me?" he grabbed your face hard enough to make it hurt, and then forced you to look at him while he slowly sucked his gloved fingers with your juices on it, right in front of your face, wanting to make a show for you. "Hmm, always so... tasty." he admitted with the sexiest tone you have ever heard from anyone. "But now... I've gotta prepare ya for da real deal." once he said that, he pushed three fingers into your mouth.

You could taste your own cum and his saliva mixed on his fingers, and you would be lying if you said it wasn't your favorite taste. You knew you had little time to adjust to his fingers, trying so hard to control yourself from gagging... and that was what was worrying you, since if you couldn't take his fingers... it would be ten times worse once you sucked his dick. He decided to take his fingers off of your wet mouth, since his cock was starting to get so tight in his pants, to the point of being painful. While he was unbuttoning his pants, you took the chance to breathe properly, yet that didn't last too long.

"Come here." he ordered while he grabbed your legs, and then pushed them out of the bed to make you kneel on the ground, before grabbing your freshly painted purple and green ponytails.

"Now open wide that pretty mouth of yours. Sir is gonna ah... feed his slut until she's full." with a smirk printed on his scarred white and red cheeks, he wasted no time in shoving his erected cock inside your already wet mouth. "Fuck! That mouth of yours never fails to get me all riled up, dollface!" he started laughing maniacally right after while thrusting faster and harder into your mouth. You could barely breathe, especially when he shoved all of his dick down on your throat, only to get it out for a few seconds before shoving it back inside, where it belongs. Your boobs (that were also covered in blood because his previous signature he made especifically for you), upper legs and even the floor were covered in saliva and some of his cum, and you couldn't wait for him to release all of his cum inside your mouth... you couldn't wait to make him proud of you.

You started to feel his movements getting sloppier, his groans and breath getting uncontrollably deeper, and his dick twitching in your throat. You could tell he was close, and the moment you felt your ponytails getting pulled closer to his pubic hair, you knew that was it.

"Fuck!" he loudly cursed before releasing all of his cum inside your mouth and down through your sore throat. His taste felt more salty than before, but you still managed to swallow it. It was too much cum for you to keep in your mouth, so some of it escaped from it into the ground. After looking at you silently, he caught your attention by his demanding tone towards you.

"What are ya waiting for, huh? Clean your mess. Now." his glare was fatal, and his hold on your hair started to become unbearable, so you didn't challenge him any further. You crouched down on the ground and started to lick the rest of his cum that fell out of your tiny mouth, yearning a satisfied groan from him after you were done.

"Good girl..." he praised, before helping you getting up from the rigid floor to kiss you passionately. You melted completely into the kiss, his tongue fighting for dominance and obviously winning, until you felt his sharp, yellow teeth bitting your lower lip, making it bleed. He sucked all of your blood like his life depended on it, and you couldn't help but feel wetter with each second. Seems like J wants to be a vampire for halloween this year.

When he got bored of it, he pushed you onto the bed, and lifted you legs around his neck once he was positioned on top of you. You could tell he was really hard again, until you felt him rubbing only the tip of his cock on your clit. He remained in that position for some time, creating the perfect amount of friction on your clit to make you squirm under him. It seemed strange, however it was something you learned from him that felt so incredibly good. He decided to suck your hard nipples meanwhile, which made you gasp because of the unexpected, yet very welcome act, and moan harder. When you were about to cum, he shoved himself inside your dripping cunt, this time having no mercy on you. His thrusts were fast, hard and pounded you so deeply, that you could swear you were seeing shiny stars all over your room.

"Oh fuck, right there sir, please let me cum!!!" you closed your eyes, only to be slapped in the face as a warning to keep them wide open.

"Ya wanna cum, huh? Do ya think you deserve it?" he asked, staring into your soul to see if you would dare lie to him. "Dirty sluts don't get to cum, and believe me when I say that I'm gonna fucking destroy ya." after that, he put both of his gloved hands around your neck, grabbing it with such force with the porpuse to punish you from your supposed desobedience. You could see the madness itself returning to his eyes, and before you weren't able to talk anymore by lack of air, you decided to expose the truth to him, before it was too late for you.

"I-I didn't go anywhere! I didn't f-fuck anyone and... a-and I didn't go to any p-party!" it was so difficult to talk, but at the same time, in the situation and position you were currently on, it made you cum so hard without even getting time to ask him for permission, yet he didn't care about it since he was now focused on what you said.

"What?" he looked so confused, and his eyes started to return to their original color, getting also softer in the process. He suddenly stopped fucking you, and in that moment you thanked to whoever was up there for letting you cum before he stopped.

"I-I just wanted to make you mad... I wanted this..." you admitted, ashamed for making yourself look silly and desperate in front of him. You couldn't tell if he was still mad and irritated, or relieved. Maybe all of them, because now he had the guarantee that you obeyed him and didn't fuck anyone else.

"Oh, doll... If ya want me to fuck ya this hard, all ya need to do his to ask nicely. But ya like to play games instead, dont'cha? I always knew how kinky you were. Then congratulations, ya got what ya wanted! Ya really pissed me off, but dont'cha think you're gonna get out of this that ah... easily..." he warned you. For some reason, he decided to look at your bedside table, only to discover where your very badly hidden J’s choker had landed. He grabbed the innocent object, that was also the responsible for the best sex of your life, while still being inside of you, and then put it back where it belongs: on your neck. After making sure his gift was well tightened around your neck, he took his dick out of your vagina and lined it up right with your tight ass hole.

Now this was going to be a long night...

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teafiend · 2 years

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I really needed a space to simp and fangirl over Kim Jae Uck’s performance as Mo Tae Gu. His memorable and beyond magnificent portrayal was the sexiest ever. ❤️‍🔥🥵🤤 He truly did put the sex in the sexy. (“Sexy trash” was the South Korean nickname for MTG 😆 and the acronym for both words in Korean ended up being sex).

No matter how often I cringed, totally creeped out by and recoiled from Mo Tae Gu as a character, I truly don’t get tired of the way KJU slithered across the screen in all his stylish and elegant glory. He was a complete visual feast, and backed up with stunning, brilliant performances, unforgettable.

The suits, the strut. The creepiness. Each flick of the eyes, the slow deliberate smirks, detailed gestures of him adjusting his tie, buttoning his jacket etc all added up to the effect. And the lighting were all executed so beautifully.

I don’t even feel guilty admitting that his unhinged desperation by the end looked so stunningly gorgeous (amazing performance there 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽❤️‍🔥🥵) it gave me more than terrified shivers. (From the complete safety of being on the other side of a screen).

The director and camera crew really knew how to capture all that deliciousness for the imagination on screen.

And all those hints of an obsession with Kang Kwon Joo. They truly don’t get more suggestive than that. (My shipper heart just could not help sliding this part in, sorry).

Though the toll the character took on KJU was also quite apparent. To have to inhabit the mindset of a literally unhinged serial murderer must be draining and harrowing.

Undoubtedly, while actor-KJU could portray any kind of role as evidenced by his filmography, it could also not be denied that he brought a certain quality to his darker roles which elevated the characters, i.e., Mo Tae Gu and Choi Yoon.

I also get why he often distanced himself from MTG as a character in interviews. No matter how sexy and iconic MTG as a character might be, anyone sane and halfway decent would not want to be associated with someone of that caliber. (That role was so impactful it was still brought up at times years later).

It was clear MTG was written based on a composite of real life serial killers, and in that regard, competent writing. As a character, however, I thought MTG was memorable mainly due to KJU’s portrayal and performance, and only to a much lesser extent, the writing. KJU brought MTG to life with his acting and charisma, and not really the other way around.

As it was, MTG as a character seemed too much a caricature of a serial killer-cum-mafia, what with the vainglorious style and strut. KJU made MTG elegant and drool-worthy, but when I peeled back the murderous elements, MTG was just a poor, traumatized boy who turned into a stupid, violent and foolish man, enabled by another psychopath (if more “well-adjusted”), his father. (Okay, my own prejudices speaking… but well…)

Truly, I was unimpressed by MTG as a character. If he was not performed to perfection by KJU, he would simply be a tedious, pathetic, little man. A true “loser”. I normally have issues with the degrading label “loser”, but I thought it fit MTG because by all intents and purposes - on the surface - he was a man who had it all. And used it only to gratify his own twisted and deranged impulses. So, fiction or otherwise, yucks 🤢🤮 (it would be nice if people like MTG are completely fictional, alas, they are not, although this particular iteration portrayed by KJU was).

Well, unless one thinks real life serial killers are cool, there was nothing truly remarkable about MTG as a character; simply a narcissistic, murderously violent sociopath/psychopath (with wealth and privilege for protection). A man literally a lunatic. They needed to be helped with their mental illness/issues and treated with compassion, sure, as even the show generously alluded to in MTG’s case. (But they should still be isolated away from the rest of society, for the protection of others, until and unless they can really be well enough).

Serial killers like MTG exists (mostly minus the ultra-wealth and style, but that is another story) in real life, and it is a disservice to the devastation and traumas they incurred to unnecessarily glamourise them. (In which certain sub-niches of society already do 😔😱🥶).

P.S. It is a weird situation I found myself in with MTG because much as I disliked his character, his portrayal by KJU was beyond haunting and indelible. Hence, I spent precious time writing this rant 🙄😂🤣 (It would be interesting to look back on this period and note the level of my fixation on a character I don’t even like all that much, except for the fact of my own personal obsession with KJU as his performer).

And my heart cannot help but want to ship him with KKJ. (Sorry, my awesome KKJ. You deserved everything good and wonderful, and I…🤭🤫😬)

#voice season 1 #ocn voice #mo tae gu #mo tae goo #kim jae uck #amazing performance #manifesting fanfictions #manifesting aus with hea #can’t help but drool though MTG was tedious as f***#Kang Kwon Joo X Mo Tae Gu crack ship #personal rant #when not thinking he was beyond hot I wish MTG would grow up #kdrama #can’t believe I finally developed a love-hate relationship with a fictional character 🙄🥶🤣 at my age #character ramblings #character rambles #character rant

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shelobussy · 3 years

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I'm new to the sherlock fandom, so Idk shit bout Moffat.

Could you please enlighten me?

Oh you just opened a huge can of worms.

My brain isn't really working right now, so this is going to be mostly incoherent ramblings. I think if you click on the #anti-moffat tag you'll get a better worded response, but I'll do my best to explain my own personal feelings on this.

The main problem with him lies in the fact that he's a misogynist. I haven't touched the Doctor Who or Sherlock fandoms in a while, so I don't really know what people are saying about him now, but there used to be so much controversy around his work.

Take Doctor Who for example. His series--although there are things I enjoy about it--falls victim of the male gaze constantly.

There's a character who literally exists to be in love with the Doctor, all of his female companions are in love with the Doctor, and basically everyone they meet falls in love with the Doctor. It's super condescending tbh.

The worst offender is his token lesbian couple. He writes them like he's never interacted with a woman in his life and doesn't know how to write f/f attraction.

Which leads me to the next part.

I don't know if you've finished Sherlock or not, but the deal breaker for me was his adaption of A Scandal in Bohemia. It was so so sexiest and lesbianphobic that I could barely finish it. Someone pls drop into my inbox and ask me to write a more detailed meta on this episode, bc I could Go Off for hours. Here I'll simply remind y'all that Moffat writes Irene Adler as a lesbian who falls in love with a man.

It's really fucking disgusting. I have literally no respect for this man.

Oh yea we also have to talk about the ableism.

Moffat likes to throw words like psychopath and sociopath around a lot without actually knowing what it means. I think Sherlock says in like every episode that he's a "high functioning sociopath" or whatever, but really he's just on the autism spectrum. But, of course, it's not badass to say that you're on the spectrum, so instead Moffat uses an already stigmatized term.

He also calls River Song a psycho/sociopath which is also wildly inaccurate bc she's an incredibly empathetic person! It's just cool and sexy for him to say that the Doctor fell in love with a psychopath or whatever.

Don't feel like, btw, that this means you can't enjoy Sherlock or the fandom. There are many things I still enjoy and love about Doctor Who, even series 5-10, because of certain writers, the actors, etc. I even like certain things about Sherlock (Martin Freeman's Watson is like my favorite Watson ever except for Elementary's adaption). It's just unfortunate that certain aspects of these shows suck bc their showrunner is kind of a dick.

#anti moffat #sherlock #doctor who #ash does meta #ash does fandom #my meta #anon asks #tw sexism #tw ableism

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darkacademicfrom2021 · 3 years

Text

Headcanon/fic: "Tom with superpowers"

Reader x Tom Hiddleston/Loki

Gender neutral reader

Context: in the same world that happens the whole Avengers situation, Marvel releases the movies. You get a job as health assistant in the franchise, helping the injured actors while they train. There, you met Tom Hiddleston, and... maybe someone else too.

Loki won his reputation in Midgard the wrong way, since the whole New York incident. You knew him well as the selfish psychopath you thought he was.

But ever since you started working in Marvel, you got a bit into the story and past of him and understood his character better. You thought he was quite charming.

Actually, you thought Tom Hiddleston, his actor, was more than charming.

You met him on a rainy day. Your scrubs were soaking wet, since you've come to work by walking (a terrible idea) and the rain caught you in the middle.

Someone in the entrance told you to get something dry from the lost & found box, and so you did.

A nice and warm hoodie replaced the top of your scrubs and you started drying your hair with a towel as you walked on set.

"Excuse me", said a deep and harmonious voice, touching your shoulder. "I think that belongs to me".

You lifted your gaze at the stranger and as soon as you met his eyes, both were speechless.

Tom Hiddleston in person. God, the man was even more beautiful than through a screen. You smiled nervously as he smirked. He didn't take his eyes off you for a second.

"What?", you finally said.

"You have my hoodie".

"Oh, I'm... I'm really sorry. I was... anyways, I'm giving it back now" you tried to articulate, still choking on your words. He noticed you were nervous and didn't comment on it. What a gentleman, you thought.

"Give it back in dinner, would you?" he said suddenly, yet smoothly. You had to blink twice to realize what he just said. "Meet you at eight in the doorway? I'll take you somewhere nice and quiet".

Your mind was off for the rest of the day, until dinner came along. Your coworkers noticed your brain was somewhere else than in the present, but they didn't say anything; they kind of figured Tom would've asked you out. They saw how he smiled at you on set the whole day.

Dinner was perfect, and so were the other five, six, seven...

You started dating very frequently. Always kept it down, avoiding the press rumors, avoiding paparazzis, keeping private life... well, private.

If there was something you definetly loved about him, was his passion. He was passionate about everything he spoke about. And he was even more passionate about listening to you talking.

And when you spoke your mind off about how Loki was misunderstood, and such a good character, such an interesting person (well, God); he listened.

Sometimes you could catch a glimpse of him being still on character. He'd say or do something and you'd answer "your Loki is showing", and he'd get all nervous and blushed.

You always wondered why. It's normal for actors to slip away something of their characters sometimes. Why did he get so embarrassed about it?

It was even more in interviews. He'd hide pretty well those assets that you'd connect so much to Loki's personality, afraid he might not "look Tom enough".

Already years into the relationship, you have already made it public. You still worked for Marvel and spent a lot of time on set, and sometimes you walked in some interviews.

There was this specific interview where you walked accidentally in the room, and he greeted you, with the camera running, with the most Loki tone of voice possible.

"Hello, baby".

Tom never called you baby. Not even when you called him daddy. He'd call you darling, dear, beloved, my love, my sweet, sweetheart, lover... but baby? Never that.

As soon as he realized those foreign words slipping out of his tongue, his face straightened and went into what you'd call his 'dark mode', a very serious face he made when his inner Loki spilled out of his words.

The 'dark mode' only could be described as the face someone does when making a big, irreparable mistake. Like saying the words he should've never said.

And it only faded away when he realized you didn't notice it. Like he was hiding a big secret from you, and those words would give him away.

But they never did, and he always relaxed his face to see that you were unaware of what he was hiding.

"Baby..." you recalled that same night, wrapped around in the warmth of the blankets. "You went all Loki today. But I like it. It fits you so well".

He stared at you from the doorstep, holding a book he promised to read you before sleeping. He smiled slightly and turned that smirk into a sad look very quickly.

"What's wrong, honey?".

"Nothing, my love. I'm just tired from work, that's all".

"For playing the God of lies, you're a terrible liar" you mocked him. He sat by your side and caressed your cheek with the soft touch of his hand.

"You're the only one who's always been able to read right through my bullshit. That's one of the reasons I love you so much". He said quietly.

"I'd love to know what goes through your mind when the character slips through your words. You play him marvelously, you shouldn't be ashamed to have gotten used to some of his mannerisms", you told him while running your fingers through his hair.

"I'd say I have too many of them".

"Yeah", you chuckled "it's almost like Loki is playing you, instead of you playing Loki".

"Oh, darling. Only if you knew", he said with the deepest and sexiest voice he has ever spoken.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you whispered.

He laughed slightly, and cut the conversation off with a "nothing, I'm just messing with you".

But you knew he wasn't.

Something in his eyes... he couldn't lie to you any longer. Not with you allowing it.

"What is it? I really, really want to know".

You insisted and insisted. He rolled his eyes and said nothing all night.

Next morning he didn't awake by your side. You were waiting for him in the kitchen, with a fresh cup of tea and a teasing smile on your face.

"Good morning, love" he said, hands in your waist while kissing both of your cheeks. "What are you doing up so early?".

"I want to do something crazy".

"Oh no".

"Oh yes".

"What do you want to do?".

"Let's go to Asgard. Let's go to catch a glimpse of the cell Loki is supposedly locked up in. I know it sounds crazy, but I really think it would help you with the character building. You know, since you give such importance to the role and..."

But he didn't let you finish, and closed the conversation with a "no way. Absolutely not".

And there was nothing else to discuss.

"I'm going".

"He's a crazy murderer that wants to slave everybody. There is no way I'm letting you see him".

"I'm going you like it or not", you said, grabbing your keys and going towards the door.

He stood infront of you with the most serious look you've ever seen in his face. "You're not going".

"Just one reason, give me one".

"He's not in his cell, you wouldn't find him there".

"And how do you know that?".

His eyes, that once showed anger and concern, were now fearful and disappointed.

"I can't say".

"This has to do with your 'dark mode', doesn't it? What are you hiding from me, Thomas?".

He sighed. Hugged you tightly as if you were never holding him again after what you'd hear next.

He whispered in your ear "I'm sorry for lying. It's just what I do best".

Tom and the expressions that differentiated him from Loki got bathed in a golden light. His hair became long and dark, his facial hair disappeared, his eyebrows got fixed (exactly how they made his make up for the movies), and his midgardian shirt and trousers transformed into the leather and metal armor that represented Loki so well.

"Oh my FUCKING GOD" you yelled as you hold your body against the wall, trying not to fall. Your legs were shaking.

"Yes".

"YOU'RE--".

"The... fucking God".

"H-how??".

"Long story short, I needed to start over. And I'm a shapeshifter, it's not too hard for me to disguise".

You sat on a chair and he did the same. You looked at him up and down as you steadied yourself. Once you were already taking all the madness in, you were able to speak.

"So, you could've pretended to be ANY midgardian out here".

"I could've".

"And you chose to become an actor that would play you?".

He laughed, with the same laughter Tom had. He's the same man I fell in love with, after all, you thought.

He started saying that he understood if you felt unsafe and lied to with him. That if you wanted to end the relationship his soul would ache eternally, but he would let you go. That he did something unforgivable; he played with your trust.

You got up and cupped your hands around his neck, leaving a small kiss on his lips.

"Shut up".

"Beg you pardon?".

"I love you, I don't care about anything else. To me, now you're Tom with superpowers".

"That's the most stupid yet most lovable thing you've ever told me".

"I'm sure I said stupider things". And you glanced down. "I wonder how much of your God skills you were hiding all this time".

He smiled before lifting you in the air and taking you bride style to the bedroom.

"Oh, baby, you'll see".

#loki #loki headcanon #tom hiddleston #hiddleston #loki x reader #tom Hiddleston x reader #headcanon #mcu #marvel

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