#daddy's mad

[andy-clutterbuck]

8x16 | Wrath

[toporecall]

Chapter 3. Held Captive By The Ribbon 'Round My Neck

ok so like...don't kill me but there is a bit of mildly unhinged tamlin smut in this so sorry but its important to character development!!

AO3 or read under the cut

Prev chapters: [1] [2]

Chapter Summary: Feyre fantasizes about a certain High Lord, has an enlightening encounter with Tamlin, and tries to gain some power

Don’t let them change you, Feyre. In this world, you need to be your own weapon. Don’t ever forget that and don’t ever let them take your power.

Rhys’s words echoed in her head all the rest of the evening and through dinner. 

There was a silent agreement that no further negotiations would take place until the following day. Dinner was tense but cordial enough and eventually everyone began to retire to their rooms. Most people were staying at Spring Court overnight so negotiations could continue in the morning. It was an odd feeling, knowing how much power rested under one roof—at once comforting and frightening. It left Feyre feeling ill eat ease as she readied herself for bed. 

It was a warm night and she had her windows open. The room was only lit by the nearly full moon and a light breeze billowed the curtains every few minutes. Feyre washed herself and put on a sleeveless white nightdress that came to just above her knees. The top was made of lace, just opaque enough to hide what was beneath. It was one of the few pieces of clothing she’d been given here that she really enjoyed wearing—the tease of scandal hidden by the soft swirls of lace was enticing to her.

She laid on top of the sheets and let the warm breeze from the window wash over her skin as she stared out at the night sky lost in her own thoughts. The night sky was, of course, reminiscent of a certain male she was trying intently to keep out of her thoughts. She was no fool—she had recognized that feeling of anticipation building within her earlier. She knew she couldn’t even begin to entertain the idea of a dalliance with anyone, let alone another High Lord.

But it was impossible not to think about the way he looked at her, the way it seemed like he was one of the only people who really saw her. The way that every time she looked in his direction at the dinner table that evening, he seemed to already be looking her way as well.

Feyre’s hands began to drift—one sliding over the satiny fabric of her nightdress gathered between her legs, the other over her breasts, creating delicious friction with the lace over her sensitive nipples. She could indulge in just a little fantasy, right? It’s not as if anyone would ever know. And if she rubbed in just the right way she wouldn’t even need to go under her clothes…

Feyre heard the unmistakeable sound of a footstep outside of her room just in time to pull her hands back to her sides before the door opened. Tamlin walked in, shutting and locking the door behind him and Feyre hoped desperately that the moonlight was dim enough he wouldn’t be able to see her flushed skin.

“Tamlin,” she spoke softly, trying to steady her voice, “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Can’t a male pay his soon-to-be wife a visit?”

He pulled his shirt off and his muscled chest reflected the soft light of the moon. He began unbuckling his belt.

“Of course. I just thought with the guests here—”

“I’m not shy.” He climbed on the bed and over her, already hardening against her core as he buried his face against her neck. And suddenly, Feyre understood that his coming in here had very little to do with sex. Or, rather, had very little to do with desire. This was a reclaiming of power. A reminder of her position, of what was expected of her. She had toed the line today—at the meeting, in Tamiln’s office, in the archery game—and this was a reminder of what she was really here to do: to be a High Lord’s wife. 

Tamlin kissed a line down her throat, his hand running up her thigh to graze across her center.

“Wet for me already?” he murmured against the skin of her chest. 

“Mhmm,” she hummed. Maybe it was lucky she’d been touching herself just before he came in here.

 He pulled her panties off and pushed her nightdress up her waist. “Always ready for me. I love that about you.” 

He let his hard cock slide against her center, looking down at her with his green eyes. Feyre whimpered each time he slid himself up and brushed her clit. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy sex with Tamiln. She had, after all, fallen for him enough to agree to marry him. It was just that once they were engaged and the rush of a new relationship had worn off, he seemed to settle into something perfunctory. There was a distinct lack of presence that left her always wanting something more.

Tamlin leaned down and kissed her, capturing her lower lip between his teeth.

“You want this?” he asked, still teasing her entrance. Feyre nodded. He pushed into her and she whined at the sudden stretch. “That’s right.”

His teeth were at her collarbone then and he didn’t give her any time to adjust before setting a bruising rhythm. Feyre was breathless. The feeling of being filled did satisfy something primal within her but she kept feeling her thoughts drift and was becoming increasingly unable to keep herself from the awareness that somewhere in that building Rhys was in his bed, maybe thinking about her, maybe touching himself thinking about the things he wanted to—

Stop. Nope. Not going there.

Feyre slipped a hand between them, putting pressure on her clit as Tamlin fucked her. He seemed to like that, groaning against her skin. He pulled back slightly and slid a hand over her lower abdomen, pressing down in a way that made Feyre able to feel him deep inside of her. She whined and he laughed low under his breath.

“Soon we’ll be married,” he said, continuing to press down as he fucked her, “and I’ll fill you up the way I really want to. Put a baby in here so everyone who sees you knows you’re mine.”

Feyre moaned despite herself. She was very much not ready for that part of her life but something about the primal possessiveness of his speech soothed her in a strange way.

Tamlin’s thrusts became more erratic. He pulled out and moved his hand before finishing where he’d just been pressing on her. 

There was little ceremony after. He got her a towel to clean herself up, gave her a quick kiss goodnight, and went off to his own room, leaving Feyre alone once again. She hadn’t finished but the idea of touching herself now seemed less appealing. 

Power. She was learning that’s what it all came down to in this world—power.

Feyre didn’t want to be powerless. She didn’t want to be just a pretty bride filled with children. She wanted to do something, to protect her people. 

Suddenly, Beron’s voice floated through her mind: Surely a girl like you is smart enough to understand where her power lies.

And Feyre knew what she needed to do.

She did nothing more to prepare than to wash up again and tidy her hair before slipping out of her room and tiptoeing through the halls, going as far as holding her breath as she passed Tamlin and Lucien’s doors.

Maybe power didn’t look like what she thought when she’d arrived here but she wouldn’t be powerless. She’d spent her whole life in Spring Court and she’d be damned if she didn’t do all she could to help them. 

It was the middle of the night and the house was deserted, even of servants. She walked as softly and silently as possible to the other wing of the house where the guests slept. She’d caught a glimpse of Ianthe’s notes earlier that day and knew where each High Lord was sleeping.

Knew exactly where she could find Beron.

She climbed the stairs and turned down the hall where both the Winter Court and Autumn Court’s rooms were. Last door on the left. That’s where she would find Beron.

Her heart was hammering so loudly in her chest she was almost surprised it wasn’t echoing off the marble floors. She passed the first door, the second, the third, and finally stopped with her hand on the knob of the fourth and final door. The marble was cool under her bare feet but she felt uncomfortably hot, even in just her nightdress.

She took a deep breath in and let it out slowly through pursed lips to try to steady her nerves.

She’d open the door in three…two…

“Feyre,” a voice whispered from her left. 

It took all her willpower not to screech as she let go of the knob and jumped back from the door. She instinctively threw a hand over her mouth to silence her surprise. 

Rhysand stood in front of her, still fully dressed in his usual dark, well tailored clothing. Even in the dark hallway, his violet eyes seemed to shine. Feyre had no idea how he’d snuck up on her in the silence of the sleeping house. She hadn’t heard a single thing. Maybe the beating of her own heart had drowned out his steps.

She was struggling to catch her breath after that shock.

“I know what you’re doing,” he whispered.

“Then you also know why I’m doing it,” she whispered back. She didn’t bother questioning how he knew what she was doing. He seemed to know a lot of things he shouldn’t.

He eyed her carefully and she wasn’t sure if she imagined the heat in his gaze as he clocked her state of undress. Feyre felt goosebumps crawl across her skin and hoped it was too dark for him to notice. 

“There are other ways to help the people of Spring.”

“You said it yourself—I need to be my own weapon.”

He looked like he wanted to argue her point but was also wary of waking someone. “This was not what I meant,” he hissed.

Feyre took a bold step toward him, leaving only inches between their toes. Somewhere in the back of her mind she marveled at how much her life had changed. She’d gone from hearing rumors and stories of the Lord of Nightmares to standing toe to toe with him in her nightclothes.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn’t do the same for your people,” she said.

He did look her in the eyes. For a few long moments they stared each other down. His jaw clenched and unclenched until he finally sighed exasperatedly and looked at the ceiling instead.

“Just…be careful, Feyre. You’re playing a dangerous game.” He lifted a hand like he might reach out and touch her but then thought better of it, letting it drop back by his side. He looked at her for another long moment before turning and walking off silently toward his own room in another hall.

“I know,” Feyre whispered, so quietly she was almost sure he wouldn’t be able to hear her. 

She took a few moments to breathe and to steady her nerves before turning back to the door. Her hand rested on the cool metal of the knob. She could feel her pulse in her fingers, making the knob feel like a living thing beneath her hand.

She tried to get up the nerve to start her countdown again. Three, two, one and she’d go in and get it done. The people of Spring would have a place to go in the likely event they needed one. One night and she could potentially save thousands of people. 

Three, two, one. So simple.

“Fuck,” she cursed under her breath, letting go of the knob. “Fuck.”

She turned and went back to her own room. She couldn’t do it. Something about her interaction with Rhys had gotten under her skin. She threw herself onto her bed and pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes. 

So close. She’d been so close to getting up the nerve to go through with it.

She turned on her side, shunning the moon and stars behind her. She tried her hardest to let her thoughts drift and to fall asleep but to no avail. She spent the rest of the night tossing and turning in her bed until the sun started to rise and the morning light broke over the horizon.

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taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!): @the-lonelybarricade @popjunkie42 @magic-and-ships @starfall-spirit @soopsiedaisies

[duchessripper]

“why do you still use tumblr?”

listen— i have to keep track of my hyper fixations somehow

[dcxdpdabbles]

Bruce: It's come to my attention that a paranormal being has made Wayne Manor its residence. I've hired Constantine and his team to remove-

Tim: BUT BRUCE I LOVE HIM!

Bruce: What-

Tim: Stop trying to tear us apart!

Bruce: Tim wait what are you-

Tim: You'll never made me break up with Danny! NEVER!

John watching Tim race up to his room where he senses the ghost boy: I may be taking a shot in the dark here, but I think that lad is dating a ghost.

Bruce: Timothy Jack Drake Wayne, did you sneak a boyfriend into this house?! Young man, you turn right back around! *running up the stairs yelling*

John: So Bruce has no problem with the lad being dead?

Alfred: Please, as if Master Tim is the only one who dated a ghost. I used to have a gentleman caller on the other side as well.

John: Blimey, and here I thought you were just boring and snotty. Who was the ex?

Alfred: Clockwork

John: .....I have never respected another man as much as I do you Alfred.

Alfred: Yes, well, make sure it stays at respect, young man. I don't find children attractive

John blushing and in a squeaky voice: Yes, sir.

Madame Xanadu by a circle of salt: Soooo does this mean we're still getting the ghost out?

Zatanna: We better. I don't want to watch John make a fool over himself over Alfred anymore, then I have to. That man is way out of his league.

Madame Xanadu: What does that have to do with the Ghost Boy?

Danny popping in the middle of the circle: I think it's cause she has feelings for him. Personally I can't see it. Sad trench coat man is famous in the Zone for being terrible in romantic communication-

Zatanna: Bind the circle! We got him!

Madame Xanadu pale: What have we done.....your royal majesty, please excuse this disrespect. We had no idea you were the ghost, I swear on my soul-

Danny: That's okay. I don't mind at all. This is cute actually *swipes salt* like when a little kid pretends to shoot you.

Zatanna: ......that was our strongest binding spell.

Danny: Like I said, cute. It's not nearly as cute as my boyfriend, though. Tim's cuteness broke the bar! By the way, Alfred, I have a message for you from Clockwork. He wants to know if you are willing to have dinner sometime?

Alfred: Been there, done that. And frankly, I feel it's rather pathetic of a high being sending his grandson to ask for a date.

Zatanna blushing: Okay, John, I get it.

[wraithdance]

Simon/Price who are so accustomed to being the authority in a crisis that when they witness a major fire they immediately offer assistance to get others out. They tell the pretty, scowling fire fighter calling the shots that they’re military and can help but she tells them none to politely to get back with the other civilians and let her do her job.

Simon/Price who are startled pissed at the thought of being referred to as civilians. Outraged even! they’re going to get her number and under them by the end of the week.

[wintersangelic]

men lost their way when their cultural definition of masculinity made them aspire to become andrew tate huffing his own farts instead of whatever the dad from the sound of music had going on

[savvage-arts]

Catboy Taylor cannon

[stuckinapril]

I literally thought this track list was satire when I first saw it because who the fuck greenlit these

[charlotteking23]

How To Make Your Girl Happy - MV1/33

Max Verstappen x reader

Summary: Once in awhile, the two of you like to go out at night without a special plan in mind and just do whatever you please. Just like tonight. It's going to be so much fun! Right?...

word count: 1.6K

You hold the broken gold chain in your hand, crying your eyes out while Max kisses your other hand, trying to calm you down and drive straight at the same time:

"I'm gonna get you another one, Princess, OK?"

"But you gave this to me for our two-year anniversaarrryyyy," you bawl, upset like never before, looking for a tissue in your purse. "Oh, look, baby, a grenade, you suddenly stop your mourning, taking it out and showing it to him.

"I didn't even know I had it in here, you think it's expired?" you wipe your tears, smiling like nothing happened.

"I don't think they expire, liefje," he winks, working his charm on you.

Thank God she got distracted, Max thinks, pleased he avoided the catastrophe. Must be that...time of the month because you always get really emotional; he really doesn't want to deal with it but he has no choice.

"Oh, no!" you suddenly gasp, digging into your purse, and your bottom lip quivers on the verge of crying again. "Maxiiiieeeee, I'm out of my gum," you whimper, staring at him. "I want my gum!"

"Say no more, I will take care of it!" he quickly agrees, really struggling to keep his cool. If he can't keep his girl happy, then who will?! He yanks at the steering wheel, going over the curve, hitting two trash cans in the process, almost killing a cat and a pigeon.

He sees the gas station and since it's so late at night there are no customers. Perfect for what you need. The two of you rush inside and see the clerk freeze in shock when he recognizes the famous F1 driver.

"Look I need gum now!" Max scowled, while you went by the counter and started looking for your gum, and...

"Maxiiiieeee, they don't have strawberry flavor in the brand I like," you whine, feeling another wave of imminent tears strolling down your cheeks.

"What?! Why don't you have strawberry?!" Max raises his voice, alarmed.

"W-we run out s-sir," the clerk stutters, closing his eyes, thinking he was in front of the Max Verstappen. "We have strawberry in o-other brands..."

"I only like this brand!" you interrupt, snorting, wiping your nose with your sleeve while scratching your thigh.

Good gracious, she's such a classy woman, your boyfriend thinks, suddenly aroused, really wanting to bite you all over.

"She only likes this brand!!!!" Max repeats, getting out of his trance, and screaming at the poor guy that trembles like a leaf. "Why are you upsetting my girl, hm? Don't you know you should have that stuff on hand all the time?"

"S-s-sorry s-sir..."

"That's it were leaving this fuckin place", taking your hand and fastly walking back to the car. "Stop crying, Princess, we'll get your gum!" he promises, starting to drive again.

He feels so aggravated, but if he can't keep his girl happy, then who will?!

After a few miles, he notices a small, lonely convenience store and slams the brakes, sharply turning so he can park.

You both run inside, while you look through their stash and let out a scream when you see what you need.

You grab a paper bag and cram in all the strawberry-flavored gum you see in the brand you like and take one last package, wanting to open it when the date gets your attention.

"Maxiiiieeeee, this is expired," you complain, your quivering bottom lip making him lose it.

"Are you trying to kill my girl?!" he snaps at the man, outraged, mostly because he has to deal with you in this state after you leave the store.

"N-no, n-not at all, I-I don't know how it happened," the guy gulps, feeling he's going to faint soon seeing Mad Max.

"They're all expired, baaabyyy," you frantically go through your bag, tossing each little package one after the other.

"Are you trying to kill your customers?! What kind of place is this? You should be reported to the authorities! No princess, don't!" Max slaps your hand when you try to open the last package because you want your gum badly and it makes you more upset when you drop it.

"Let's go, Liefje, this damn city is trying to kill us tonight," he pants, backing out and you hold on to his shirt, following him outside like a lost puppy.

"Hold on, baby," you sniffle and taking a marker out of your purse, heading back to the store and Writing 'loser, and 'don't come here unless you want to be food poison' on the door, shouting at the clerk:

"This is for trying to kill people!", You start laughing, suddenly happy, heading back to your car.

"I don't want gum anymore, can we drive to our spot?" you sweetly ask, kissing his shoulder as he starts driving again.

shit, Max thinks. Why? Because you usually go to your secret spot on top of the hill to have sex. Since you are...not able to for now, it only means one thing: you will want to cuddle and talk.

Your boyfriend takes a deep breath, pretending he's not panicking. But if he can't keep his girl happy, then who will?!

Once you get there, you crawl on the hood with him, placing yourself in between his legs so he can hold your waist from behind.

"Ahhh, this is so nice, isn't it Maxie?" you giggle, putting your hands on top of his. Max is tense but doesn't want to show it. "Wow, a falling star! Make a wish!" you get all excited, clapping and he sighs, bored. "Did you make a wish? What did you wish for?" you turn your head so you can see him

"For Goddamm Monaco to have your stupid gum!" he grumbles, rolling his eyes.

"No way! Me too!" you get on your knees, turning so you can face him. "What were the odds, baby?" You smile so brightly that his sassiness goes down a notch. "You really love me, don't you?" you bite your lip.

"Yeap," his short answer comes and you don't give up.

"How much?"

"Ummm, a lot," he quietly mumbles, uncomfortable, wishing you would change the subject.

"Really?!" you kiss him, astounded. "AWWW that's so sweet," you get all teary and sentimental.

The things he has to go through to please you. But if he can't keep his girl happy, then who will?!

"Dadddyyyy," you trace his biceps, batting your lashes at him.

Oh, hell no, Max thinks. You only call him Daddy in bed (which is not the case here) or when you want something he wouldn't agree with, which is probably the case.

"Yes, liefje?" he tilts his head, waiting to hear what else it's going to come out of your mouth next.

"I think we should have a baby, or two or three, but at least two, yes?" you blur out, enthusiastic to the maximum and he starts getting flustered, not expecting such a twist.

"I don't think so, liefje," Max utters with such determination you start bawling instantly.

"Why nooootttt?" you wail, sobbing with your face on his neck like he's been dead for three months or so. "You think I'm ugly?!"

His hands start caressing your back, trying to soothe you.

"I don't think you're ugly, I think you are a pretty princess," he says, being sincere. "You look beautiful, don't worry," he pets your hair and you wipe your tears, grinning at him. if he can't keep his girl happy, then who will?!

"So let's have kids then," you switch to your original plan, hoping for a positive outcome.

"No...I really don't want to..." he makes a comeback, stubborn and determined not to give in.

You gasp so loud it startles him: "Are you...are you having an affair?"

"What' ?! No, I'm not having an affair," he immediately defends himself, irked you would think something like that.

"Oh my God, you're cheating on me, aren't you?" The crying starts again and you weep on his chest, soiling his favorite redbull shirt with tears and makeup.

"Is she prettier, more beautiful looking than me? You wanna have kids with her and not with me?" you clench your fists on the fabric, heartbroken.

Dammit, why do you have to get like this every month? Max thinks, irritated.

"I'm not having an affair, OK?" he lifts your chin up so he can look you in the eyes. "Stop crying, Now", He requests pissed and you gulp, suddenly holding your breath so you won't make a sound you feel you need air and he watches quite amused at how you struggle to hold your breath, afraid to move. After a few good seconds, you give up and start breathing again.

"I'm not crying anymore, all right?" you kiss him, and since you don't have any tissue, you wipe your nose with your sleeve again and he gropes you,

"I love classy girls; you're so classy princess, " he charges at your cleavage, not being able to control himself anymore.

You snicker, straddling his lap, and just have to say it:

"Maxiiieeee, come on, let's have a baby, or two or three, pleaseeee," you pull his hair and scream when he bites your skin. "Unless you really think I'm ugly," your bottom lip quivers once more, your happiness going downhill as fast as his enthusiasm for the subject.

When he sees the tears rolling down your face he has to get it together with all he's got to muster the words:

"Fine, we'll have a baby," he bitterly mumbles, distressed.

If he can't keep his girl happy, then who will?!

[tampire]

Hannibal and The Corinthian get dressed and admire their vanity

[creaman]

Take initiative. Ruin your own day.

[nolassolace]

We're so back

[ragnarokhound]

I think the best titans tower scenario is one where tim gets a good look at jason in his new and improved robin outfit and gets so hard so fast he’s lightheaded, immediately derailing jason’s plans for the beat down because Jason’s going “what kind of FREAK”

anon, i love this for you, and i like the way you think lmao

like, i'll be real, the OG robin costume is goofy as hell on Jason in the TT sequence, but at the same time? Can we not simply appreciate a well-built man in booty shorts and pixie boots. Let he who is free of sin be the first to condemn Dat Ass. Especially when it's flexing that hard to beat up a guy i, personally, like to headcanon as having a giant mcfreaking crush that unfortunately did Not die with Jason lololol RIP to Tim Drake

(btw i am imagining Jason tearing off his infinitely more sensible Red Hood fit and then upon getting this reaction from Tim, has to pause because 'i'm wearing this to make a statement here. this isn't about that. why is this doing it for you, kid' and Tim just has to sit there stewing in his own humiliation like 'can you just kill me now? let's go back to the part where you were beating me up to teach me a lesson oh god wait no don't do that, fuck--' and Jason's like '🧍i'm gonna go actually, you made this weird. beatdown cancelled' and Tim, with his gloves over his face just muffles out a 'thanks, see you never' and throws himself out the window)

[sickfreaksirkay]

gave lancelot a cigarette because i think he deserves one

[w3brot]

Opinion on men?

[wildflowerbrat]

in case yall forgot how cute and soft i am :3