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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨6/End

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) cucking, violence, blood, some untagged extreme events.

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

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: Here’s the grand finale, I hope you all enjoy it!

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You breathed shakily as you clipped the chain of diamonds around your neck. Clark stood and you watched him place his gun down. He rolled his head back and cracked his neck as he shrugged off his jacket. He slung it over the corner of the upholstered chair and your fingers fluttered down the front of your dress.

“Marcus,” he called tauntingly and clapped his hands, “I think you should see this with both eyes, don’t make me take one out.”

“Stop,” you hissed, “please.”

“What do you care about him, sweetheart? He’s a pimp,” he said brusquely.

You lowered your eyes and sniffed. He nudged you with a bent knuckle then hooked his finger under the strap of your dress.

“It’s getting late,” he warned, “let’s go.”

You stepped away from him and pushed down the zipper hidden underneath your arm. You kept your gaze to the floor as you slid the straps down your arms and shimmied out of the taut fabric. You flung the dress away and bent to undo your strappy heels. Clark tutted as he got close and slapped your ass.

“I like those, they go well with the necklace,” he purred and traced his finger up your back to snap the band of your bra.

You winced and stood. You reached back and unhooked the bra and tossed it at him with venom. You exhaled and pushed down your panties as he hummed. It took all your strength and pride not to cover yourself and cower. He came up behind you and traced your shaped with his fingertips.

“Come on,” he gripped your waist and walked you around, only feet from Marcus as he stopped you in front of the ladder, “up.”

“What?” you grabbed the rungs as he urged you closer.

“Go up,” he repeated brusquely.

You climbed carefully and when you got to the top, he tickled the back of your thigh.

“Turn around, sweetheart, and take a seat,” he demanded.

You heard Marcus sob against the gag and you turned as you tried not to slip. You sat on the top of the ladder as you faced Clark and he grasped your knees. He pushed until you let him part your legs and you felt the cool air along your cunt. He bit tip of his tongue out and kneaded your thighs.

“I’ve been patient, I can keep on,” he taunted as he leaned in and his hot breath grazed your folds, “I want to savour this, sweetheart.”

He flicked his tongue along your cunt and you hissed and clung to the sides of the ladder. He pushed your legs back so that your feet hooked around the rungs and held your hips in place. You gasped at the sensation that steamed from your loins and bit your lip.

You put your bent finger between your teeth and moaned. His tongue moved faster as if encouraged by your weak drawl and your heart fluttered wildly. You dropped your hand to your throat and the diamonds pressed to your palm. You gulped and leaned your head back as you tried to stifle a whine.

He kept more fervent with each lap, and you pushed your thighs against his face. You looked down without thinking and the height made you dizzy. You rasped and grabbed the back of his head as you feared you would fall. He growled and sucked on your clit. You groaned as your lungs burned and your eardrums pulsed.

You panted as the flames licked at your flesh. You turned your head away from Marcus in shame as you felt the sudden peak rising. Your hand slipped down to grasp the back of Clark’s neck and you squirmed as you came into his mouth. He kept the pressure on your clit and teased it lightly with his teeth until your legs hung limp and slowly dragged his lips down your thigh, a trail of your arousal left along your skin.

“Mmm,” he stood and shoved his hand between your legs. He pushed a finger into you suddenly and the ladder teetered beneath you. He steadied it with his other hand and added another finger, “listen to her, Marcus. How could you let this go? Priceless.”

He pulled his fingers from your cunt and held them up so that they glistened in the light. He presented them to Marcus and raised them to his mouth to suck them clean. You grimaced and looked away once more.

“Sweetheart,” he turned back and kicked the bottom rung, “you can turn around.”

You blinked at him and swallowed. You trembled as you stood on a rung and he caught you before you could fall. He helped turn you around and placed your hands at the top of the ladder and he guided you to the bottom rung. You gripped it tightly as he groped your ass and smacked it several times so the sound reverberated.

Your flesh stung as he pressed himself to your back and nuzzled your head. He gripped your hips and rubbed his thumbs along your hips. He pulled your waist back so you were bent slightly against the ladder. He pushed apart your ass as slid two fingers down to your cunt.

He ran his fingertips along your wet folds and unzipped his pants with his other hand. You quivered as he came flush against you and bent his knees as he prodded at you from below. His tip brushed along your entrance and he coated himself in your juices before he slid just inside.

You bent your head and gulped in air as he stretched you. You reached back as he pushed in another inch and you pressed your hand to his stomach blindly. He grabbed your hand and twisted your arm behind your back. He thrust into you completely and bent to whisper along the shell of your ear.

“Feel that,” he jerked his hips so that you cried out, “perfect fit.”

“Please…” you croaked.

“Please… more?” he mocked and drew his hips back, only to slam into you again.

“Nnngghhh,” you groaned and clung to the ladder as he rocked slowly.

“This is real art, Marcus,” Clark said as he ran his hands up your side and cupped your tits, “look at her… listen to her.”

“Pl--” you couldn’t speak as your walls tightened around him snugly, begging for more even as the strained around him.

“Mmmmm,” he kissed your neck and sent a shiver through you, “so sweet.”

He nibbled playfully then sank his teeth in as he sped up. He grunted and stood back as his hips clapped against your ass. His motion stuttered for just a moment and suddenly a loop of cloth fell over your head and around your neck. He pulled the tie until it was taut around your throat and wrapped the tails around his hand.

“Ah, look at her wearing her leash like a good kitten,” he purred, “my kitten.”

You shook your head and moaned through your clamped lips. Why did it have to feel so good?

He grabbed your chin with his other hand and turned your face towards Marcus. Your head lolled in his grip and your lashes fluttered as you saw the shadow of the man you loved. You couldn’t just let that go, not in a night. A tear trickled from your eye and leaked down the side of Clark’s hand.

He kept his hand firm around your jaw and his other arm swept around your waist. He lifted you from the ladder and you squeaked. He carried you to the chair, his cock buried as deep as it would go. He bent his legs as he placed you on the cushion and you latched onto the back as he began to fuck you again; harder, faster than before.

Your voice rang out as your groans grew almost to wails. All your anger and sadness bubbled over as the pleasure forced it from your lungs. You bared your teeth and blinked through the blur. Marcus shook his head as the stool wobbled beneath him. You hated him, you hated the man behind you. You hated that you were so stupid.

You came with a shrill cry and Clark dropped your head against the back of the chair. You hugged the upholstery and whimpered as he sped up. He lifted your legs off the seat as he rutted into you, his growls savage and carnal. Your nails dug into the fabric and you closed your eyes, surrendering to the swell of ecstasy.

He rammed into you so hard you were crushed against the seat. He supported himself against the arms of the chair as he pounded into you. He huffed and swore under his breath as you felt him quake and he spilled into you. You braced yourself, disgusted by him and how great it felt.

When he finished, he lingered inside you, his knee against the edge of the seat. He slid out of you slowly and his cum dripped out of you as you sat back to catch your breath, your arms shaky as you pushed away from the cushion. He went to the table where your paints were and he took a clean rag from the bunch to wipe himself. He whistled and caught his breath.

“Did you like the show?” he taunted Marcus and tossed the dirty cloth at him, “I sure did.”

Marcus grumbled through the gag and you backed off the chair. Your walls were tender and tingly, your legs trembling, and your soul racked with shock and spite. You could hardly see as the dim light made your head ache and you shook your head as you tried to escape the afterglow that drained the energy from you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her,” Clark continued, “I can give her anything she wants and what can you do, hmm?”

You fell against the small square table and your hand scrambled for the dark pistol. You stood straight and turned to limp over towards the men. Clark’s back was to you as your heels knocked clumsily against the wood. As you neared, Marcus lifted his head and his brow wrinkled.

You aimed at Clark but before you could pull the trigger, his arm was around yours. He pushed the gun down and you fired into the floor. He overpowered you easily as his hand wrapped around yours and you fought for control of the gun. He chuckled darkly and forced your arm forward.

He pointed the barrel at Marcus as you tried to push it away and another shot went off and left your ears ringing. You screamed as you watched the blood spread across your boyfriend’s chest. Clark released you and you fell to the floor as the gun spun across the floor.

You got to your knees and dragged yourself over to Marcus. You reached to touch his bleeding chest and more spread onto the gag shoved into his mouth. The red stained your hands and dripped down your arms as you rose to cradle his head and his breath rattled as you pulled the cloth from his mouth. His eyes rolled back and you felt the strength leave him entirely.

“No, no, no,” you grabbed his chin and smacked his cheek, “please, please, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Marcus…”

You were yanked back suddenly and nearly fell over on the strappy heels. Clark spun you to face him and you hit his chest. You looked up at him as he pushed your face against him and embraced you. He hushed you as he pet your head.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s alright,” he cooed, “you won’t be alone.”

Tears flowed down your cheeks and choked you. You sniffled and shook your head as you pushed weakly against Clark, “you’re a monster.”

“You pulled the gun, sweetheart. We could’ve been done…” he snarled as he dragged you over to the window and spun you against the glass, “but the adrenaline always get my blood pumping.”

He pressed you to the glass as your hands streaked scarlet along the window. You heard his zipper again and in an instant, he was inside you. You were on the toes of the heels as he shook the glass and thrust into you deliberately. You leaned your forehead to the cold pane and stared out into the night, the metallic smell of blood tugging at your nostrils.

🎨

You didn’t sleep, you didn’t even lay down as Clark moved your body how he wanted. The water couldn’t be hot enough to scald away your guilt and the memories of a night that never ended. The afterglow of the shower and your night did little to ease the horror of your existence. You felt as if the blood still stained your hands as you buttoned up the borrowed shirt.

You went to the window of the spacious bedroom and looked out as you heard the voices below. The black plastic bags loaded into the back of an equally dark car. You sobbed and smothered it with the loose cuff of the shirt. That was how you said goodbye, watching the remnants of your boyfriend thrown away like trash.

“Sweetheart?” Clark’s voice set your hair on edge and you turned to face him, a towel hung loosely around his waist, “I know it’s hard now--”

“How can you be okay?” you edge away from him as he neared, “he’s dead. You shot him.”

“Wasn’t my finger on the trigger,” he planted his hand against the wall and blocked you with his arm, “you shouldn’t play with guns.”

You sniffed and mopped up the last of your tears. He was so callous, so calculating. It chilled you completely.

“Who are those men?”

“A few soldiers,” he said as he dropped his arm and grabbed your hand, “you look tired. You should sleep.”

“I can’t,” you tried to tug away but he kept a hold of you.

“Well, if you’ve still got the energy,” he pulled you against him and snaked his hands down to your ass.

“You’re horrible,” you uttered as you grasped his thick biceps.

“To some,” he bent so that his nose touched yours, “but I can be real good to you, sweetheart.”

You stared at him, worn and weak. He kissed you and you let him. Marcus was dead because of you. You thought he was the selfish one for wanting everything this man had, but hadn’t you wanted the same? You came here to paint because you wanted to get paid. You were no different and now he was gone and you were stuck exactly where you belonged. It was what you deserved.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he parted and turned you to walk you backwards to the bed, “you’re gonna need your sleep.”

He nudged you down onto the bed. He went to the window and drew the long drapes and the room dimmed. He swept away his towel and let it pile on the floor as he climbed up next to you and reclined with a sigh. You laid back on the pillow and looked up at your reflection in the mirror set into the ceiling.

“Now that is art,” he winked at your reflection as he reached to caress your cheek, “you’ll see it soon enough.”

#clark kent #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #clark kent x reader #fic #series #portrait of a dangerous man #dark fic #dark!fic #superman #dc #dcu #mob au #mob!au #au

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theharellan · 6 years

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rules & stuff

General

Thank you for coming to my rules page! I'd appreciate it if you could read over these to prevent future misunderstandings.

This is a Solas roleplay blog. Solas is a character from the latest Dragon Age game, Dragon Age: Inquisition. He plays a large role in the story, and thus this blog will be spoiler heavy. If you have not finished DA:I (and all its DLC) then please take caution when you follow this blog. I don't tag spoilers for any DA:I content and I would hate to spoil anyone.

Here are some basics!

mostly canon, semi-canon divergent

independent, elective

will roleplay with mutuals only

21+, not open to smut

single ship

tags triggers

Rules last updated April 2021.

Interaction

i am semi-selective & (mostly) not exclusive

I will only be roleplaying with mutuals for the foreseeable future. Starter ask memes may be turned into threads, but please make a separate post!

I will roleplay with multiples and do not practise exclusivity for either Player Characters or Canons. I have mains whose interpretations/universes I default to so that I can write in a semi-consistent universe. All duplicates I roleplay with exist in different universes.

i am singleship

This is the "(mostly)" part of the "not exclusive thing." On this blog I only ship with Iander Lavellan and am closed off for romantic ships. I am, however, incredibly interested in developing non-romantic ships- both positive and negative. As Ian is a companion OC and not Inquisitor, he exists in my Solas's universe regardless.

i reserve the right to follow & unfollow as i choose

This blog is not follow-for-follow. I like to keep my dash relatively slow moving. As mentioned, I do try to keep the opportunity for non-mutuals to roleplay with me or chat.

As for unfollowing (or soft blocking) I won't usually explain why, usually it's one of these couple reasons:

Inactivity (the main one tbh - if I see you're back I'll refollow!)

Offensive material (homophobia, transphobia, racism, sexism, etc)

Untagged Negativity / Vagueblogging (it makes me anxious)

Untagged character hate (especially Solas or Merrill hate)

As one final note on following: I don't send in passwords. I promise I read your rules before initiating interaction.

sending & receiving memes

Don't use me as a meme resource. Not all IC memes will work for two characters, so if it doesn't fit feel free to reblog. But OOC memes, symbols or asks you can send out of character, which require no interaction to send. I don't care if we're not mutuals, and I promise if you send me something I'll check to see if you reblogged it and send you something in return. I'm not a big fan of the "reblog from source" solution for non-mutuals, I just... pls. Send me something.

on messaging

I will not roleplay using Tumblr's IM system and prefer not to roleplay on IM platforms (Discord, etc) period. Feel free to message me OOC, it's open regardless of whether or not I follow you.

My Discord is also available for mutuals. Just shoot me a Tumblr IM or ask and I'd be happy to provide it!

Threads

please be patient

I am currently attending grad school and am a graduate assistant on top of that. Roleplying is a hobby, please respect that.

Before you message me asking about replies please check here for a list of my Solas threads or here for a list of Solas replies I currently owe. If you are on this page, I know I owe you. If you're not, please mesage me and let me know! I'd appreciate it, I like to keep it updated.

i'm open to any format

Banter, para, multi-para, novella are all possible. I prefer to reserve longer threads for plotted or intense interactions, and shorter threads for more casual roleplays b/c otherwise there's way too much navel gazing. Shorter threads are also much more likely to get timely replies.

I don't format beyond small text, and will roleplay with you regardless of whether you do or don't format yourself. I do use 100x100 icons (except in specific AUs where I have no icons to speak of), but am open to iconless roleplay if you don't use them.

Tagging

common triggers on this blog

This blog regularly features themes of slavery, fantasy racism, and mental illness (specifically: depression, depersonalisation/derealisation, ptsd). All themes present in the Dragon Age series will also likely appear here at some point, even if it's OOC discussion. These will be tagged when referenced.

my tagging policies

I track the tag #theharellan

I tag general triggers and will tag others upon request. My format is: #(trigger)+tw. For example a blood trigger warning would be: #blood tw.

I will also tag content warnings for things that include, for example, character death (like so: #character death cw).

NSFW is a rarity on this blog. When I do write or reblog something even vaguely NSFW it will be tagged #( nsfw )

For a full list of the tags I use often on this blog, please refer to this page here.

my tagging requests

For my comfort, please tag...

#Animal Death TW (especially pet death)

#NSFW

#Gore Images

#Negativity

#Solas Hate

My Solas Interpretation

I've been roleplaying Solas 3+ years at the time of writing, and I've expanded upon his interpretation over this time. Here are probably some of the most important things to know about my interpretation.

some notes for elvhenan-era characters

Please at least skim this post especially if you roleplay a character with knowledge of Fen'Harel.

If you roleplay an evanuris, please do not assume Solas is your friend! This has become less of a problem since Trespasser, but I'm keeping this just in case. He has no love for the evanuris (save Mythal) and will just want to fight you.

I am open to discussion so our interpretations of Elvhenan better match, but there are some things I'm not interested in changing. If you diverge from canon in a way that rewrites the evanuris as wholly benign and erase slavery from the narrative entirely, then we're not compatible.

some notes for everyone else

Do not suspect Solas of being Fen'Harel without my permission! He is canonically very careful with his identity. The exception to this will be Elvhenan-era characters, but even in those cases don't just sweep in and out him.

My Solas was not Solas first. What I mean by this is, he had several names before choosing the name Solas. I headcanon that Elvhenan elves had a pretty fluid view of names, similar to how Abelas likely was not the name that character was born with. That being said Solas is his real name.

My Solas is queer. He is panromantic, asexual, and agender. My reasoning for roleplaying him as such can be read here, but tl;dr there is no such thing as a cishet in Elvhenan.

As stated previously, he is in a canon relationship with the companion OC Iander Lavellan. I don't expect you to know the ins and outs of their relationship by any means, but it is common knowledge within the Inquisiton. You can read a summary of their relationship story here.

I write the events of Inquisition as having played out over the course of about three years rather than the canon one. My default Inquisitor does both Jaws of Hakkon and The Descent prior to the end of the game.

I've tweaked Solas's behaviour during What Pride Had Wrought to flow better. You can find a more detailed description here.

In canon Solas says some very bigoted stuff about dwarves and qunari. This holds true for my Solas, but I tend to write him as developing/learning better throughout the course of DA:I (which is supported in part by canon, but due to banter it comes across inconsistently). This isn't to say he's cured of his racism b/c it is always an ongoing process, but that he's aware enough to try to check himself.

His ultimate goal is to tear down the Veil and use his powers as a Dreamer to reshape the world to create a future for the elves/spirits- and, more specifically, the rebels he fought with before the creation of the Veil.

As one final note please refrain from making egg jokes at him or me. I'm so tired.

OOC Stuff

about me

You can call me Tas! I use she/her pronouns. I’ve been in the Dragon Age fandom for like 8 years now and I’ve been rping for like 18 years total. Probably more. I made this Solas November 22nd, 2014.

I have a personal blog (queenaeducan) and my discord is available to mutuals, just shoot me an ask!

Name: Tas Age: 26 Pronouns: She/Her Interests: Elves & cats

For Non-RP Blogs

Hello! I'm happy you're here! Feel free to send me inbox messages addressed to either myself or Solas. I encourage you to reblog my writing, meta, drabbles, graphics, etc! I only ask that you respect the fact that my Solas has a Lavellan of his own, and I won't respond to asks that imply another love interest. Also if I've reblogged writing from another rp blog, please look at their rules before reblogging it yourself. Not everyone is comfortable with it being shared throughout the fandom.

So in list form the rules are:

Send me asks

Send Solas asks

Like my rp threads / Like p much anything

Reblog my headcanons

Reblog my metas

Reblog my drabbles

Reblog my graphics / promos

DON'T reblog promos of other rp blogs

DON'T reblog text posts from other rp blogs without reading their rules/checking with them first

Remember my Solas has a love interest, and it isn't your Lavellan. Please don't send him asks about him being in a relationship w/ someone who isn't theshirallen(Ian).

If you reblog something I made/wrote pls remember I check the tags in hopes of seeing something nice.

Thank you!

#( ooc )#( mod notes )#[ for me to add to my sidebar for mobile users ]

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