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mokulule · 1 year

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The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached 3

Part 1|Part 2

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst/depression and canon typical violence

I'm not entirely happy with this, but I hope you enjoy it anyways. Some things will probably be changed for the Ao3 version, this is very much first draft and I want to do a proper rewrite before then.

Jason parked his bike next to the Batmobile. There was a strange air in the Batcave or maybe it was just him being different. He couldn’t tell for sure. He stepped off the bike so he had his back towards Bruce, who sat by the Batcomputer with his cowl off. Jason could still feel his gaze when he looked up. He didn’t know what to feel. Where was he supposed to start?

“Little Wing!” Dick announced happily, suddenly slinging an arm across his shoulder from behind. It was only all his training that stopped him from jumping three feet into the air from the fright and he managed to just tense - but that was normal. Dick would consider that normal. Pull yourself together, Jason, he scolded himself. Normal, act normal, for one long moment he was grasping for what was normal. It definitely wasn’t the urge to lean into his big brother.

“Jay?” Dick asked quietly, worried, thankfully too quiet for anyone to hear. Panic grasped him and he elbowed Dick to get him off. Dick bent over with an oomph. At least elbowing Dick was a normal response, even if it was for the wrong reason.

Ignoring the strange urge to check on Dick, he squared his shoulders, firmly didn’t look back and walked forward towards the Batcomputer, where now that he had arrived the rest of this night’s patrol team gathered. Damian already out of his suit with damp hair and a towel slung around his neck glanced surreptitiously at Jason out the corner of his eyes even as he pretended to look towards Bruce - brat was still worried. Tim was curled up in an office chair doing who knew what with his laptop in a way that did not seem conducive to the healing of the broken ribs he’d been benched for. Bruce himself, paused what he was doing and spun around in his chair. Even sitting he managed to draw everyone’s attention, Tim even closed his laptop.

Jason purposefully crossed his arms and widened his stance. That’s what they expected of him, probably? How did he usually stand? He usually always felt one wrong comment away from a fight when he was here, he should stand like he expected it, right? Defensive.

This was exhausting.

At last Dick walked up to them completing their loose circle. He was rubbing his side and Jason felt a stab of worry and guilt. Had he aggravated an existing wound? Shit. Fuck. What was wrong with him? Why was he so worried?

“Oracle,” Bruce spoke, “please start.”

“Thanks to Hood, we now have a better headshot of the thief,” Oracle announced from the computer speakers“The Ghost,” Dick interjected in a sing song voice, “after what happened tonight you can’t disagree.”“Nightwing,” Barbara replied flatly, she didn’t even need to say she thought it was a stupid name. “The thief,” she reiterated in a way that left no room for any other arguments and Dick wisely held his silence. At least Dick knew Barbara well enough when to stop. Finally she pulled two photos up on the large screen. The one on the right was an older/early photo with the green glassed goggles obstructing much of the upper half of the face, a grin was a sharp line of white on the lower half of the face in the blurry photo, the quality was terrible and caught in movement.

The newer photo on the left showed a young man, maybe even late teens, eyes were wide, bright green, not quite glowing and his face beet red in embarrassment, mouth slightly open - this was taken just after he’d pushed away from Jason. His goggles sat at the edge of his messy black hair, just high enough to see the way he was beginning to swell on his forehead where Jason had clocked him.

Jason looked from one picture to the other, something was off to him. The grin was an obvious difference, but these where snapped in very different moments, and he shouldn’t let different emotions cloud his judgment.

“He’s lost weight.” The realization hit him with the certainty of a sledgehammer.

There’s dubious mumbling around him, about the blurriness of the first picture. But Jason is unmoved, there’s a hollowness to the guy’s cheeks that wasn’t there before.

“We can’t really judge that sort of thing with the quality of the first image,” Barbara cut through the murmurs. Jason knows he right, but he doesn’t feel like arguing.

He doesn’t feel like arguing, it’s another realization that leaves him wrong footed and he’s not listening for a minute. Checking back into the conversation he only caught the tail end of the conversation that was apparently about the Meta’s skills.“-we can now add phase shifting powers-““Like a Ghost.”

Tim groaned and Barbara outright growled - Jason reevaluated his earlier thought that Dick knew Barbara’s limits. Damian had already accepted the logic and Bruce had long since become immune to this sort of Dick antic.

“Back on topic,” was all he said. “Tim.”

Tim opened his laptop back up.

“Yes, so the items the thief-” There was a small beat as everyone waited for Dick to interrupt, Tim was side-eyeing him but continued; “-is stealing are still painting a very alarming picture, and there is a multitude of very dangerous uses, not to mention what kind of world ending horror they could be built into. Luckily he didn’t get the prototype spectral calibrator tonight, and we’ll be keeping it here for the time being and set the project on an indefinite hold at Wayne Enterprise.”Tim looked up at Bruce. “We’ll be needing to monitor Star Labs as they have a similar project, but so far the Ghost has not operated outside of Gotham to our knowledge.”

Bruce nodded, “I’ll arrange something.”

It was a signal for Tim to continue, “we’re still no closer to a way to capture him and the phase shifting is a whole other added concern. We’ll need to figure out if there’s something he can’t phase through, some denser materials perhaps. I just finished looking through tonight’s footage and from what I’m seeing at least the new filter program is holding up; both the audio and visuals have very few glitches now. But we still don’t know how he’s sending out the electromagnetic interference.”

“Ghoooost,” Dick said quietly under his breath.Tim’s left eye twitched dangerously. Jason couldn’t help smiling, it was very good he was wearing the helmet. Bruce once more ignored Dick looking to Damian.The kid straightened imperceptibly at the attention, it really was adorable, but his voice was as haughty as ever. “Blood sample is already being analyzed of course, tt.” Blood sample? Oh, that’s what Bruce had been doing on the roof, when Jason was distracted. A sick feeling rose in his stomach thinking of the blood, was Ghost even alive? He could be bleeding inside the head for all they knew.

“Hood,” Bruce asked quietly, “do you know why the Ghost reacted to you like that?”Jason stiffened. Fear grabbing cold onto his heart. There was no way he could tell them he thought it had to do with the pits. They’d think Jason was being influenced by the Ghost and bench him. He couldn’t let that happen, he needed answers. He didn’t need to fight his family.

“No damn clue,” he scoffed, hoping he sounded nonchalant and none of his panic shone through, “some weird trauma response? He’d just hit his head real good.”

Bruce looked at him dubiously, but he was clearly unwilling to risk pushing. Their truce was a tentative one after all, one they’d come to after many false starts and stops. Jason had never before been so glad for their tattered relationship.

“So to conclude,” Dick drew everyone’s attention off Jason, “the Ghost is still a mystery, we don’t know if he’s just a thief or a supervillain biding his time.”

“He’s not a supervillain.” Jason could have cursed himself, he’d just gotten their attention off him. Now he was forced to elaborate. “He’s not wearing any sort of body armor, just that hoodie.”

And he’d definitely broken some of his ribs landing on him, Jason thought with a pang of guilt.

“Not all villains wear body armor though,” Tim pointed out carefully, and now Tim was worried too, Jason had no clue what had given him away.

“The ones who engage in close combat with us usually do though,” Dick returned, and Jason could have hugged him for bailing him out again (if that had been normal, which it was NOT).

“He could just not be a very good villain?”

“Or he’s just banking on the fact that he’s very good at dodging,” Barbara interjected with annoyance before the discussion got out of hand, “or did you all just forget you’ve been chasing this guy for weeks without landing a substantial hit on him?” She could always be counted on to be the voice of reason.

Dick scratched the back of his head sheepishly. Tim looked down at his computer. Damian scoffed, trying to look unaffected but that was definitely almost a pout.

Bruce’s eyes twinkled in amusement as he stood up and was that almost a smile? How was this happening? It felt… His fingers dug into his arms. It felt like all the things Jason had convinced himself had never really been there. And there was Bruce’s hand landing on Damian’s shoulder; a silent comfort-encouragement, because Bruce was terrible with words but his touches always spoke volumes. And as the small smile bloomed on Damian’s face and he quickly looked away to hide it, Jason remembered exactly how that felt. Shit.

“Oracle, that’s all for tonight, we’re not getting anywhere without more information.”

“You got it, B, Oracle out.”

Jason spun and stalked towards his bike, before he did something, he didn’t know what exactly.

“Jay?”

Bruce’s voice stopped him in place. He glanced over his shoulder to see them all watching him. Don’t give anything away, he scolded himself.

“What is it, old man?” Jason asked trying to interject as much annoyance into his voice as he could, but it was so hard dredging up any of that when they looked at him worried like that, and his chest ached and he just sounded tired.

“It’s late,” Bruce said with a small unconscious wave of his hand as if anyone could tell the time of day from within the cave, “you could stay the night?”

After a beat he added, “Alfred would love to see you.”

Jason’s jaw clenched. Alfred would, but that’s not what Bruce was really saying, he was saying he would love to have him stay, but didn’t think Jason would be receptive to that and so he brought out the Alfred card. It was plain as day and how had Jason never seen that? Seen the longing on his dad’s face? His chest ached, he knew why. He was always so busy reading everything Bruce did as him trying to control him, every interaction tinted in green. His chest ached. Every inch of his body wanted to stay, to take a step back, see where this could lead, but he couldn’t.

He had to act normal. Normal Jason would never. Normal Jason could be back tomorrow for all he knew. He couldn’t do that to any of them, to himself.

With great difficulty he tore his gaze away from his family and walked the last steps over to his bike.

“Tell Alfred I’ll be coming over for tea on Tuesday,” he said loudly over the noise of his bike, not looking, because he didn’t want to see any of their reactions, then he tore out of there.

This was better for everyone.

Poor Jay really is having the time of it, maybe next part he'll get to actually enjoy not being angry.

next Masterpost for subscription link

#dead on main #poor Jason has no idea how to act #when he's not perpetually angry #also he just really wants a hug from his dad #but that would be WEIRD #bruce is a good dad #Missed connections #Jason is catnip to Danny #thought sadly no Danny this snippet #probably next time though

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orcelito · 7 months

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I think smth that gets me about the way a lot of the fandom woobifies Vash is that like... so many of them erase his anger? They make him a soft and sweet doormat who never gets angry Ever, and that's just objectively not true, EVEN IF we're just talking about tristamp Vash. He's definitely softer spoken in tristamp than the other versions, but we still see him get angry!! We see him Yell!!! And these people ignore that!

Then when you consider 98 Vash and ESPECIALLY trimax Vash. Bro is genuinely furious like Any time he is dealing with #Situations. He gets angry. He yells. And he's genuinely tempted to kill people in anger (as we see with Monev).

It's just plain mischaracterization when people make him so soft and sweet and Never Angry. And we all know exactly why people characterize him like this.

#speculation nation #it's bc so many ppl r just not normal about trans people lol #like man i love the widespread trans vash headcanons but Man the weird characterizations it often brings...#it is. vexing. my perpetual curse. i will always be annoyed by it.#sometimes i think about when i started writing 3gun fic w stampede vash and i had him Angry in even the first chapter #and i was so anxious about it being mischaracterization bc so many people write him so soft #then i looked back at canon and i was like. '.... no this IS in character. he WOULD be angry. what are YOU guys doing?'#and now with my manga fic i am just continuously writing him angry bc he IS. he is SO angry.#and so tired and so sad etc etc like theres more to it and all but like #you cant take the anger out of vash. it's an important part of who he is.#that 100% justified anger at his life and circumstances and Everything #he is not a doormat. stop writing him like one. im begging you.

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theinfinitedivides · 7 months

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i think Jun Mo should have been allowed to dropkick both the f*ckass detective and the Japanese mob member who was patting him down. he wanted to so he should have. just as a treat

#tv: the worst of evil #the worst of evil #wi ha joon #wi ha jun #ji chang wook #kdrama #local gay watches TWOE (and ships everyone within sight).txt #local gay watches k-dramas.txt #and not them putting on Mozart to f*ck with whatever bugs still might have gotten past security (read: Jun Mo)#the way if i see any of them it's on sight...............#got my man perpetually angry as if he doesn't have enough sh*t to deal with when he snaps it's on y'all not him

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torilini · 5 months

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miserable little beast

#art #my art #oc art #original character art #original character #oc tag #oc; alfred #perpetually sad eyes is his whole brand #even when he is angry #even when he is happy

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mustangs-flames · 6 months

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When both Mark and Dave are finally able to heal from John Reed's toxic masculinity shittery

https://www.tumblr.com/sharkchunks/733804110761066496/fight-club-but-without-toxic-masculinity?source=share

Mark and Dave have so many hugs to catch up on, let me tell you

Takes them a little while to get to a place where Mark will accept those hugs but once he does? HUGS. EVERY DAY.

#hail true body au #mustang answers!#htb mark #htb dave #yeah when dave reunites with mark and once mark is no longer in a coma it's... very messy for a bit #mark is angry and takes it out on dave for a bit #because like #it's hard #to know you had an uncle this whole time that just abandoned you to 2 people he knew were shitty #mark just sees him as another person who thought he wasn't worthy of love #and it takes him a while to actually hear dave out and try to understand you know?#still. mark says some hurtful shit and dave just takes it #because dave believes fully that he deserves mark's hatred #because he failed his nephew/godson #and apparently his niece too #even though he didn't even know about sarah #yeah. it's messy #john reed's bullshit affects them both long after they escaped him #and they still continue to perpetuate the cruelty and anger they learned #someone needs to hug both of these guys fr

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buttercupbuck · 2 years

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like ha ha funny but the way buck scrambles to explain himself to bobby when bobby approaches as he’s cleaning out the truck and everything’s still a mess……yeah

#that was so felt lmao #like something something when you grow up with an angry man in your house there will always be an angry man in your house #something about him feeling like he’s a perpetual disappointment and always at least a little waiting for the other shoe to drop #how he can’t seem to fully trust that he’s completely safe with his family because *he* is such a screwup #anyway #mood 💖#etc etc

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elder-dragon-93 · 1 year

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Legit some of the best characterizations I've seen are when a character is basically a human (or half-human) shaped cat.

Cloud, Sephiroth, and Genesis

Ardyn and Noctis

The Sparda Boys

The Elric Brothers

Most of the cast of Katekyo Hitman Reborn

Sasuke... when he's not being a total cunt

I'm sure there are plenty of others floating around in my head but DMC and FFs VII and XV have eaten my brain recently so these are the examples that have managed to stay stuck in my head.

Honorable Mention goes to Toothless, who while not human, is definitely cat-coded.

#devil may cry #ffvii #ffxv #fullmetal alchemist #katekyo hitman reborn #naruto #how to train you dragon #cats #don't tell me you can't see gen ardyn and dante wouldn't all look you straight in the eye as the slowly pushed the mug off the table #or that noct hasn't used gladio as a springboard to get to a high place at least once #ed cloud and nero are the spicy rescue kittens who will fiss at you until you start showing them love #vergil v and seph are the regal cats that will just sit and vibe with you #but vergil will get *that look* if you try to pet him when he did not initiate #al is the sweetest baby that will ask for cuddles very sweetly and just wants to be around you all the time #sasuke is the disaster void #the perpetually angry brat cat

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dont-offend-the-bees · 2 years

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O o o f should not have showed the folks everything everywhere all at once

#One of those classic 'puts piece of media that basically represents my heart and soul and innermost feelings in someone's hands' things #I did think that they wouldn't be a fan of how Much it is but they loved swiss army man and I thought they'd appreciate the sentiment #But mum stopped paying attention immediately bc I'm pretty sure she's got sight issues she won't address and her eyes glanced off the subs #And dad enjoyed it a bit more but still had sort of a mildly disapproving face on for a lot of it #And idk ten years ago mum and I would've discussed a movie like that all night #Even if she didn't care for how it was done we would've chatted about the themes for hours #But she just.... Didn't really care #Or get it #Bc she doesn't have the memory/attention to absorb something with so much going on anymore #And always misinterprets if you try and bring up something that's on your mind #And just hums whatever music's in her head no matter what else is going on #And I'm fucking sad and angry that this fucking movie came out too late for the phase in my life when anyone might've given a shit #And at some point my bro is gonna watch it and I hope he'll find it comforting but lbr he's gonna be on the joy Wang nihilism train #And idk I feel a bit like lil waymond getting perpetually divorced and yelled at here bc I'm trying to connect and just not connecting #Looking on the brightside and finding moments of joy and connection is basically my only weapon too and it just #Feels like the people in my family are resisting at every turn #And it's not always their fault!!! Mental health and shit isn't anyone's fault #But even the most neurotyoical of us just isn't interested really in any attempt I make at reaching out #Guys I'm fucking here I'm here for the long haul bc I feel like if I turn my back you're gonna lose the rest of your marbles and disappear #Can we stop!!! Acting!!! Like strangers!!! Sharing a house!!!!!#*screams into pillow*#OK tag over share over #Delete later maybe idk #mr. bees speaks

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heart-of-the-party · 1 year

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REUNITED WITH THE LOVE OF MY LIFE ON VALENTINE'S DAY!!

He smiles so much around the wol.... 🥺❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

#The cutscene was so fucking funny though #But like #Estinien is soooo sweet and caring when it comes to wol and alphinaud #I'm a bit ???? at portrayals of him as a perpetually angry man #Ofc i haven't caught up with the msq yet #But i don't think he'd turn into his early hw self any time soon #I love estinien so much 😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️#He's so cute #I spent a while looking at his cute ears #And shiny new armour #even if he only looked at tiamat #Azune was looking at him u_u #Also please appreciate azune's new hat #She's not very edgy anymore now that shb is almost done

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unbloomingmoonflower · 1 year

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Boys, men and those identifying with masculine persuasions are allowed to feel emotions without being shamed or told to "man up".

That's my PSA.

#fyi: i'm an older sister #i have THREE brothers #and i tell them it's okay to have feelings #it's okay to cry #i tell that to anyone of male persuasions #(hell i even do regardless of gender identity)#i vented in tags bc perpetuating the toxcity just makes me so ANGRY #edit: tumblr stop fucking up my tags #reason for vent and tumblr fucking up my tags:#i was on FB during break and saw a post about comforting boys/men when they have *gasp* feelings #and some dudebro was like #nah shame them tbh #i respectfully told him why his comment was wrong and didn't address the post's point #bc he mentioned coddling #and he decides to come at me incorrect

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imowlysh · 2 years

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i have come to the conclusion that faery and you are like pink princess x intimidating person kind of friendship. you keep saying you are so scary, and you don't hesitate to cut off people but then faery comes in, and you both are like "you are the sweetest person i know!" and i live for your interactions

this ask made me think of that old meme that goes "someone will die—" "—of fun!!" or whatever and somehow i can totally see that happening

#i mean i don't consider myself a scary person i just like like horror themes and i'm perpetually tired 😭#but i guess it does fit our Preferred Aesthetics ???#blue disney prince + just someone in all black either about to fall asleep or about to slap somebody #owlysh answers #i still remember when a friend saw me 'face to face' for the first time and he said that i looked bored and angry af through it all #which made him super self-conscious... but i was having a great time actually 💀💀 i felt terrible

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tiddykittylikesskittles · 16 days

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Y'know when you put off doing the dishes bc spending any amount of time in the same room as your dad is intolerable and he camps out in the kitchen when he's home but then you hear him start angrily doing the dishes from the other room and the impending sense of doom reminds you why you don't want to share space with him in the first place? I agreed to do them this evening and it's not even nine.

#ouroborus ass family dynamics #he'll get sooo angry when he feels someone isn't contributing and he's perpetually annoyed by the state of the house #has he ever tried to help the rest of us with adhd stay organized or on top of things? no.#that would require communicating without shouting and being an involved parent which is apparently above his pay grade

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hedgehog-moss · 4 months

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In previous years I've tried uprooting small fir trees in my woods to use as Christmas trees, making sure to be gentle in the process and keep as much of their root system as I could, but when I replanted them in the woods later it just never worked. The trees didn't appreciate being treated like this, so last year I didn't even try replanting my Christmas tree and just fed it to the llamas (who did appreciate.)

I meant to do the same this year, and on my to-do list this week I had "cut a Christmas tree" and "get rid of 10m2 of broom plants" (this is on my to-do list in perpetuity. They grow so rampantly, if I didn't fight back there would be no pasture left.)

^ But then after I went and cut a bunch of horrible brooms I thought, well this is absurd, I'm going to kill a perfectly nice fir tree that I have no beef with, to have something green in my living-room for Christmas, when I could humiliate my plant nemesis by festooning its slain offspring with tinsel? I mean, shrubs are green. They fit the bill. I bet with a star on top they could pass for a Christmas tree.

At first I tried to cut a tall and large broom, then poke holes in its trunk with my drill to stick smaller broom branches in there like this: \o/ to give it a rough Christmas tree shape. It didn't work. Brooms as it turns out are extremely dense and fibrous and my drill didn't like drilling into them one bit.

So I lowered my expectations, and started gathering a big bouquet of younger brooms (the only positive aspect of broom invasiveness is that I have an infinite number of shrubs to experiment on. I cut a half dozen of them to try and drill holes into them and by the time I gave up, another two dozen had grown back in their place). I tied up my broom bouquet into something vaguely reminiscent of a fir and, I mean, with a star, it sort of looks the part?

I had to do the tying-up part several times, because the pretty and festive golden string I initially used was too weak. This bouquet of broom branches may look placid and easygoing in photographs, but when tied together tightly, it is determined to free itself.

But I managed to tame it using hay bale string. It didn't look happy with its fate, but I mean, it's a broom shrub. Its only ambition in life is to conquer as much pasture territory as possible and add it to its broom empire. It does not want to be a decorative plant in a living-room.

Take any historical figure who was mainly known as a ruthless conqueror and try to picture turning him into a Christmas tree. He won't look happy about it.

I ended up making two Christmas Brooms, one for the greenhouse and one for my living-room. The greenhouse one was originally meant for the living-room, but it was made up of particularly obstinate Pampe-like branches and I was worried one of my cats would poke it and the "tree" would suddenly break its chains in an explosion of vegetal triumph and traumatise the cat.

It may look like a peaceful Christmas Yew in the below pic, but don't underestimate its very strong desire to free itself from even the tough hay bale string, which forced me to use my garlands to tie it up some more, wrapping them around the "tree" less loosely and festively than usual. But I put my biggest star on top and that means it looks like a Christmas tree. A Christmas tree with a restraining order.

This tree is held together with tinsel, threats, and Christmas magic.

In the dark and from afar you really can't tell it's a bunch of unruly invasive shrubs tied together <3 And here's the much thinner and therefore less angry version in my living-room:

It was tilting to the left somewhat worryingly so I put a heavy stuffed hedgehog at the bottom to stabilise it, and a mountain goat at the top to dissuade it. All hands on deck. They both look somewhat petrified, like they are begging the faux-tree to remain a tree for the duration of the holidays...

Thus ends my Christmas Broom journey. It was a bit of a pain to set up but at least an innocent fir out there got to escape a grim fate (devoured by llamas), and a small gang of invasive shrubs get to be looked at with approval and joy for the first time in their life. It's a win-win.

#crawling along

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halfsixwakeup · 7 months

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Come to Hermitcraft Season 9! We have:

Sentient mossman obsessed with the sun

A man who's become so British that he's stealing whole buildings for his museum

Insanely powerful dictator cyborg who is scared of two (2) angry ladies

Your Grandparents' favourite minecraft Youtuber from when they were kids

A woman in a mountain mansion who may have a extra-dimensional doppelganger

An elf-deer-witch who keeps the skulls of her friends as decorations in her torture basements

Walt Disney but he's a genuinely lovely guy

A man with a rock collection who doesn't really know what this 'Geneva Convention' is but would love to go some day

A hypnotist who showed up slightly late but has a farm for just about everything

Living slime who maintains a cathedral while in a war with his neighbour

Stereotypical dwarf except he also owns an island-sized motherboard and the Empire State Building

A second cyborg with an irrational hatred of one (1) rock

JoeHills

Perpetually shocked man with a loveable face

The most self-depreciative engineering genius you've ever met

Crazy Australian lady who may or may not be God

A King who is both corrupted (by a curse) and corrupt (through capitalism)

Woman who drinks tea, lives in tea, gets given tea and believe it or not enjoys tea

A man possessed by a killer dungeon he spent an entire year renovating

A miner with a web of tunnels stretching the length of the world

A blood-stained card game maker

A man of honour, followed around by his evil clone, the man of dishonour

Either a normal man living in a very large train car, or a very small man living a normal train car

DoomGuy but he's very polite

Video game completionist who is so desperate for challenges he's making new ones for himself

An undead puppeteer who can bring statues to life with their magical book

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vivwritesfics · 4 months

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(Oh My God) They Were Roommates

Chapter Five - One Step Further

Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were teammates. Tension had been between from the minute they started driving together and, when it only got worse, McLaren CEO Zac Brown decides there's only one solution: Have them live together.

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Warnings: blowjob, masturbation, cum swallowing

Series Masterlist

Lando Norris was incredibly frustrated.

It wasn't fair, that he had to live with her, in this perpetual state of frustration because she was comfortable enough to walk around in pyjama shorts now.

It wasn't fair, the way she sat almost close enough to touch but he couldn't. He wasn't fair, the way her shirt rode up, revealing everything when she reached for something in the kitchen.

He had to do something about it, because he was suffering.

As he was racing on the sim, on his shitty set up, there was a knock on the door. Y/N pushed it open, holding the doorframe as she leaned forward, into the room. "Want something to eat?" She offered and Lando ended his race several laps early.

He followed her into the kitchen and she passed him a plate of whatever she had made. The two of them sat on the sofa, watching a mindless sitcom as they ate.

This was their normal.

Except, Lando couldn't stop himself from watching her. Shit, she was something else. But Lando didn't want to make any mistakes. As soon as he had eaten, he was back in his bedroom, crashing his McLaren on the sim.

Y/N looked towards his bedroom door, which was partially open, whether he knew it or not, she didn't know.

But she got on with her evening, having a shower, cleaning her teeth and getting into bed.

Oddly enough, the only time Y/N slept well was during a race weekend. When she should have been out of her mind with anxiety, she slept like a baby.

But, in her apartment, she couldn't sleep. She could hear everything from Lando's bedroom, his angry shouts as he gamed, even though he was loud, they were somewhat comforting and did help her to sleep.

This time, though, it wasn't the gaming she was hearing. She knew exactly what it was, but she didn't let it phase her.

There comes a time most nights where Y/N would notice how little she had to drink that day. She was an athlete, staying hydrated was important. But it was so easy to forget to drink, especially with how busy she was.

She pulled herself from beneath the warmth of her covers and walked towards the kitchen. She reached into her cupboard and pulled a large mug from the cupboard.

As she filled it with water, she couldn't hear anything from Lando's room.

But then, as she sipped, she turned on her heel as she sipped the water, and nearly spat it out.

There he was, head thrown back as he gripped his cock. His eyes were shut as he pumped his hand up and down his length and, if she was just a little closer, she was sure she would have heard him moaning.

She placed her water onto the kitchen table and moved closer to his bedroom door, trying to get a better look. She leant against the doorframe, keeping herself hidden from sight.

Not that Lando would have seen her. His eyes were squeezed shut, throat bobbing as he swallowed around his moans.

From her place by the door, she could hear what he was moaning, hear as her name left his lips in breathy moans. "Holy fuck, Y/N," she heard his whisper, gripping himself tighter.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she took a brave step forward into Landos room. He seemed to hear it as the door squeeked open and the floorboards creaked under her weight.

"Holy fuck, Y/N!" He cried, although his time it wasn't sexy.

With a panicked look in his eye, Lando rushed to turn away from her, to hide his erection. "What the hell are you doing?" He hissed, unable to hide his embarrassment.

But Y/N didn't seem to care. As if in a trance she walked over to him and grabbed a hold of his gaming chair, turning it to face her. She continued looking in his eyes as she got down onto her knees and placed her hands on his thighs.

"W-what're you doing?" He asked again, his voice shaking.

There was no resistance as she pulled his hands away from his erection, letting it spring free. "Are you okay with this?" She whispered, reaching towards him.

Lando nodded his head, letting out a breathy confirmation. His eyes followed her as she reached towards him, her fingers wrapping around him. She pumped her hand once, twice, and moved her face forward, licking him.

He let out a shuddering breath as she wrapped her lips around his tip, swirling her tongue around him. She sucked, just the tip, and Lando uncontrollably bucked his hips, trying to get her take more of him into her mouth.

She obliged, taking him further into her mouth. Her eyes shut for a moment as she choked on his length, but she pushed through it, determined to bring him pleasure. She pulled back, staring into his blue eyes and she licked him again, her tongue following the vein.

"Fuck me, don't stop," he said, his head thrown back as he reached for her head, holding her head as she sucked him again.

Her eyes were shut as she continued to suck, bringing him closer to the edge. Lando couldn't stop himself from lacing his fingers through her hair, moving her up and down as he bucked his hips forward, out of the chair.

Drool ran down her chin as she continued, her hand moving at his base, working in tandem with her mouth. "Fuck, I'm gonna..."

He held her hair, trying to pull her off of him, but Y/N stayed where she was. She continued to suck, bringing him to orgasm.

She held him in her mouth as he came, spilling onto her tongue. Releasing him, Y/N met his gaze, staring at him as she swallowed. "I..." Lando began, but no words came out.

Standing up, Y/N brushed off her now aching knees and left the bedroom. She closed the door behind her, grabbed the mug of water from the table, and walked into her own bedroom.

With her bag against the door, Y/N let out a breath. Holy fuck. Holy fuck, had that really just happened?

He was her roommate, her fucking teammate, and she had just sucked him off. She'd watched him, listened as he moaned her name, and she'd joined him. She'd swallowed his fucking cum.

It was a line that never should have been crossed, but they had crossed it. It should have been mortifying, but she had loved it, every minute of it. She wanted to do it again.

Before she walked over to her bed, Y/N opened her door slightly. She threw off her clothes as she sauntered over to her bed and crawled under the covers, her fingers travelling down to her cunt.

***

"You did what?!"

It was the early hours of the morning and Lando was out at the gym with his trainer. Y/N hadn't said hello to him that morning, but she'd watched through the crack in her bedroom door as he left the apartment.

As soon as he was done, Y/N sat against her bedroom door and called her best friend. She chewed on her nails as she waited for her best friend to pick up.

"What's up love?" Her friend asked.

Y/N gave her a rundown of everything that had happened the night before, leaving out some of the more intimate details. Even when she had said it, it didn't feel real, didn't feel like it had actually happened.

When she was finished, her friend let out a laugh. "No fucking way," she said, her hand clamped over her mouth. "You're not serious. You actually sucked off Lando?"

"It's not funny!" Y/N insisted. "What the hell am I going to do?"

"Well, what do you want to do?" Her friend asked slowly, carefully. "Like, do you want to forget it ever happened? Or, do you... want it to happened again?"

Y/N swallowed thickly. How was she ever meant to admit that she wanted it to happen again? He was her teammate, her rival, her roommate.

"Okay, well I got a plan," her friend said, knowing her answer. "Listen closely," she said and Y/N did just that.

Taglist (OPEN): @biancathecool @hollie911 @topguncultleader @annispamz @carlossainzwho @spideybv28 @wherethefuckisthething @fangirl125reader @minkyungseokie @marialovesf1 @kitixie @i-wish-this-was-me @bborra @formula1mount @charlotte1697 @formulaal @eviethetheatrefreak @lordpercivalcharles @venisvendetta @marie0v @tbsloneely @laur20a23 @formulas-bitch @cmleitora @marvelavengers000 @gills-lounge @andydrysdalerogers @demipatterns @holy-macncheese-balls @jule239 @aexitizen-ln4 @landosgirlxoxo @allinestarr @starmanv @st0rmzi3 @random-human02 @nocoolusernamesavailable-blog @happymeal777 @ashy-kit @juniper-july19 @im-an-overthinker @haylenxx @kapsylia @prettiest-at-the-party @urfavnoirette @norassimpingzone @thehufflepuffavenger1

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skzdarlings · 1 year

Text

02. sharing a bed series ; skz ; lee know

masterlist.

sharing a bed series part 2/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN.

pairing: lee know/reader content info: sexual content. friends2lovers, sharing a bed trope. reader&minho had an argument. reader gets pussy eaten. minho likes to tease.

inspired by the cinematic masterpiece known to the world as lee know log 9, aka that vlog where minho went camping and i never recovered.

There is a perpetual hum around the campsite, heaters and lamps and cookers buzzing through the night, plus the rain has started coming down harder. Its restless patter over the tarp of the luxury tent is more a nuisance than relaxing.

The noise is not why you are still awake. Your insomnia is the cause of good old-fashioned guilt.

You and Minho lost your reservation thanks to some traffic delays and the campsite only had single-bed tents available by the time you arrived. You have been sharing a bed all weekend, but right now you are alone. Minho stormed out an hour ago, claiming he needed a walk to clear his head after your argument.

The argument you started.

All weekend, you’ve been testing Minho’s seemingly infallible patience. Minho might joke around sharply, but he’s a secret softy and it’s hard to get him genuinely angry. You could feel yourself being a ridiculous ass but, like everything else of late, it felt out of control. You were like a third party watching your own stupid argument, unable to stop yourself and unable to help him. He was the mature one, leaving to find some space.

Even if it was after calling you ridiculous and uptight.

You didn’t cry. You didn’t let yourself cry. Maybe you can’t control anything else, but you can control that.

Now, you just lay in bed and listen to the rain. You can’t sleep anyway, so you leave the lights on for Minho. The rain is coming down pretty hard. You hope he gets back soon. Much as you don’t want to face him, you are worried about him.

As if summoned by your thoughts, the tent opens and Minho stomps inside. He is wearing a backwards hat and a hoodie, neither of which did much to protect him from the downpour. You look over your shoulder at him, watching him shake himself out. The wet hat comes off and hits the ground with a slap, the hoodie following. It leaves him shivering in a t-shirt and shorts, his jaw clenched.

He turns abruptly, looking right at you. There is so much intensity in his gaze as he stares at you, slicking his wet hair back. An unbidden spark of heat bursts inside you. I want him to look at me like that when he fucks me, you think. The thought makes you whip away to stare at the white tent wall. Your heart pounds. That pounding intensifies when Minho struts up to bed, crossing the space in a few quick strides. You don’t dare turn around, clutching the blankets and staring at the wall.

He turns off the lights. Then you hear him leave, disappearing into the small bathroom joined to your tent.

You exhale. It takes a while to come down from the burst of adrenaline, but it has mostly dwindled by the time Minho returns. You hear him moving about in the dark. You lay straight as a board, your back to him.

You stare through the dark at nothing. You know you should apologize for earlier but you can’t bring yourself to speak. You just breathe.

Minho climbs into the bed. It dips under his weight and you feel a flood of warmth from his company. He has toweled himself dry and changed into sweatpants and a dry t-shirt. He smells fresh and clean, and just a little woodsy. The bed is not very big so he bumps you as he lays down. It makes your heart race again, which just makes you cringe.

The rain has slowed. It still patters against the roof of the tent, but gently.

The quiet makes the silence between you even more tense. It feels heavier than the blankets, dense and suffocating. You swallow.

The argument was your fault. Everything that went wrong this weekend was your fault. You’ve been on edge and quick to overreaction, uncharacteristic to your usual composure. You could tell it was worrying Minho but he has never been the type to pry. No, he waits until he is asked, which would be great if you knew how to ask. Hug me, hold me, help me. You don’t know how to ask for the things you want. So you just continued to spiral, taking it out on him.

It should be you turning around, you facing him, you apologizing, but it’s Minho who rolls over. You freeze when he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight from behind. He doesn’t quite kiss your shoulder, but he presses his face there for a second. Wisps of his dyed blonde hair tickle your face. You can imagine his eyes closing when he sighs.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have said that shit. I don’t even know why we were fighting. Just call it my fault, okay? I shouldn’t have taken a city girl camping.”

He is trying to joke with you. His friendliness is what gets you. Even after everything, he is still so good to you.

You put a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle the sound when you start crying. It’s a useless effort because your shoulders shake and Minho can feel it. Resigned to your pitiful state, you let your gasps shudder out of you.

“Hey, hey,” he says, rolling you onto your back. He wipes his thumbs over your wet cheeks, staring down at you with his brow furrowed in confusion. “I was just kidding. I’m sorry. Take a free slap.” He grabs your hand and lightly taps his own cheek with it.

It does make you laugh, but it’s a watery sound, rippling through your tears.

“Minho,” you say miserably, “I lost my job.”

Understanding fills his expression. You can’t bear to look at him, so you roll towards him to hide your face in his chest. He lets you, wrapping an arm around you and rubbing your back as you make a blubbery mess on his shirt. You tell him the whole story, about the promotion you lost to someone else, about the sudden downsizing and subsequent firing. You are someone who functions with meticulous planning so your life being upended sent you hurtling into an unfamiliar state of panic.

“That’s why I went out alone the other night,” you say. Your tears have slowed to hiccups by now. “I know it was stupid and it made you mad. I just felt like I was gonna explode.”

Hopping bars and picking up random men is very out of wont for you. That’s why you did it. Minho was less than pleased when he found out you went wandering around downtown at night, inebriated and alone. His scolding was reasonable but you were beyond reason.

He goes stiff when you mention it now, though he doesn’t stop rubbing your back.

“I wasn’t mad,” he says after a minute. “I was just worried. And…”

You peek up at him. He sighs and groans and yells all at once, an amazing feat of sound, throwing his head back so it thumps hard against the headboard.

“I was jealous,” he says bitterly.

“Jealous,” you say. “Of me?”

“Yes.” He gives you a very sarcastic look. “I wished it was me in that little black dress going out and—no. Obviously not of you. Why do you always torture me like this? Go cry on the floor.” He jostles you but jokingly, still holding you against him.

You laugh a little, resting your head on his shoulder. Your head feels fuzzy and you don’t think it’s from crying. Minho just admitted he was jealous of you going out with some other guy. It feels like your heart is doing circus tricks.

“There was nothing to be jealous of anyway,” you say softly. “We didn’t do anything. He insisted he was, um, really good with, uh, his mouth, you know, but then, like, the more he insisted, um, you know me, I started thinking too hard and, um, he couldn’t make me, well…”

“Keep stammering. It makes me feel less embarrassed about myself.”

“Minho.” You slap his chest. His laugh is more of a maniacal cackle, his demeanour having shifted back to glee at your admission. You lift your head to look at him, biting your lip, noticing how his eyes go to your mouth. “He wound up leaving before it could go farther,” you say, your words startling him into meeting your gaze. You know it’s a petty blow, but you can’t help but admit, “He said I was too uptight and left.”

Minho’s whole face scrunches up like he just got punched in the gut.

“No,” he says. “No. You’re just saying that to bully me. I didn’t call you the same thing as that idiot.”

“It’s okay,” you say.

“No.” He groans again, closing his eyes and kicking his feet. “Ahhhhhhh. I should be shot!”

You are laughing properly now, clinging to him as he squirms in horror.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

“Oh really?” He cocks an eyebrow at you, his mouth a grim line.

“Well.” You burst into laughter all over again. “Maybe just a little!”

He laughs hard at that, shaking his head, but still retaliates by tickling you. Your laughter turns hysterical, peels of giggles as he pokes every ticklish inch of skin.

“Minhoooo,” you whine to no avail. He just grins and continues his attack.

Your wriggling pushes the blankets off the bed. You try and whack him with a pillow so that hits the floor too. Soon it is just you and Minho and some dishevelled bedsheets, you on your back with him leaning over you. You are both out of breath, both smiling. His hands are by your head, cradling you under him, while yours are on his chest as if preparing to push.

The room feels quiet, the silence again tense. But this tension is not rife with the same uncertainty as before. It is not guilt or shame, but a longing that comes from the whispered confession that he was jealous of the last man in your bed, the simple reality that he is sharing your bed right now.

You do not push him away. You hook your fingers in the collar of his shirt and pull. His elbows bend as he swoops down, meeting your raised head. He kisses you, deep and hot and slow, gently pressing your head back into the plush bed. Your squirming is very different now, legs opening to make room for him to settle between them. He feels so good on top of you, the feeling of his strong thighs between your legs, of his chest under your hands, wisps of hair brushing your face as he kisses and kisses and kisses you.

The kiss ends when you are simply too breathless to continue. He rests his forehead against yours, breathing hard.

“Wow,” you say softly. You look at him. His dark eyes are often severe in a playful way and right now they are intense, seductive, and it isn’t a joke. You touch his bottom lip, holding his gaze while he kisses the tips of your fingers. “Just so you know, that kiss was way better than everything that happened the other night.”

He grins at that.

“Oh,” he says. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You watch him kiss your fingers again, then your palm. He looks at you as he dips a little lower, kissing the inside of your wrist. You are hypnotized by the heat of his dark stare, so you speak without thinking much. “Everything you do turns me on, though,” you say. “Even earlier, when you were crushing that garlic with the knife—”

His seduction breaks with a little laugh and he raises both eyebrows.

“Garlic?” he asks. “The garlic got you hot?”

“Don’t make fun of me,” you say, pouting. “You already made me cry once tonight…”

“Oh, is that what happened?” he says. “Sure, okay, let’s play. I made you cry. I should make it up to you?”

“Mhm…”

“Well then.” He leans in close to kiss you but he lingers for a torturously long time, just hovering above your lips. Then he abruptly pulls away. He kneels upright and sits back on his heels.

Confused, you push yourself up on your elbows. He is looking around the room and tapping his chin thoughtfully.

“What is it?” you ask.

“Hmm?” He looks at you, tilting his head as if you are the confusing one. “What? I’m just looking for some garlic, since you’re into that for some reason. Give me a minute to remember where I put it.”

“Ahhh, I hate you!” You flop back down, covering your face with your hands.

Minho, diabolical creature that he is, throws back his head and laughs. He tries to pry your hands off your face but you stubbornly hold on. He sighs with theatrical exasperation and gives up.

You hear the rustle of fabric. Curious, you peek between your fingers. Minho is staring down at you with a single eyebrow cocked, a smug little smirk tugging at his lips. That smirk grows as he reaches back, flexing his arms before grabbing the back of his t-shirt and pulling. Your hands fall away from your face completely, your eyes drinking in the gradual reveal of skin as he pulls his shirt off. It lands somewhere on the floor, forgotten.

“Okay,” he says, nodding curtly. “Your turn.” He makes a come-hither motion with two fingers. “Come on. Hurry up.”

Your brain has short-circuited. It takes a second to make sense of his request and another minute to actually do it. You sit up long enough to peel your shirt off, then flop back down where you continue to stare at him. You are checking each other out, looking up and down. Your eyes goes over his bare chest and down, your mouth falling open.

You breath catches when he cups his hardening dick through his sweatpants, rubbing the heel of his hand there.

You meet his gaze, already breathing harder.

“What else then?” he says, still stroking himself through his clothes as he looks at you.

“Uh, ah, erm, hm—”

“You said everything I do turns you on.” He falls forward and catches himself on both hands, so suddenly you gasp. Once again his arms cage you in, his face close to yours. His hips come down heavy between your legs, his dick hard where it presses intimately against you. “So,” he says. “What else then?”

“Oh.” You are staring at his mouth, gaze heavy-lidded when he rocks against you. “Um. Well. Sometimes when you’re driving in reverse and you put your hand on my headrest, it kinda—”

Once again, his seduction attempt is thwarted when he can’t help but laugh. He drops his head, laughing harder when you lightly smack him.

“Stop asking if you’re just gonna laugh!” you say, even while laughing too.

“Okay,” he says. “Garlic and driving in reverse. I’m learning so much.”

“I’m gonna kill you.”

“That would be very rude,” he says. “Especially since I’m about to go down on you.”

“You—wha—ohhh—”

You grab his head instinctively, fingers sinking into the natural dark roots of his dyed hair, just as he dips down to press kisses on your chest. You arch under him as his mouth finds every sensitive spot, licking sweetly and biting meanly, as to be expected from Minho. By the time he reaches the waistband of your shorts, you are panting and wriggling and clawing at him desperately.

You don’t even have time to overthink. The world and all its troubles fall away for the time being.

You will figure things out. You always do. Right now, you let yourself lose control. You usually hate the feeling, but in this moment you don’t mind at all, because Minho has you. You trust him completely. Surrender is easy.

The rest of your clothes join the messy heap on the floor. He runs his hand smoothly along the inside of your thigh before guiding it over his shoulder. He kisses there, then kisses you excruciatingly chastely between your legs. When you try and move, he keeps you steady, the sturdy hands that captivated you now holding you firmly in place.

When he finally stops torturing you, he gives you everything at once: a long, hot lick right up your centre. Again, your fingers find his hair. He doesn’t complain or lose focus even though you are scratching at him a bit ferociously. Ever a skilled worker, he stays on task. It is so deft and swift and thorough; you get so wet and slippery that you can feel it running it down your skin.

When you get close, your hips lift but he brings you back. He looks up between your thighs as he brings you over the edge. Your legs shake and your eyes close and you bite your hand just a little, trying not to be too noisy in the middle of the night at a campsite.

He climbs back up when finished, looking like a very smug feline as he wipes his face on the back of his hand.

“On a scale of garlic to driving in reverse—” he starts.

You playfully cuff the side of his head.

“That good?” he continues to tease.

You roll your eyes but smile. You think it is a seductive smile, but you do feel a little wrecked. Still, you stay on task too, sliding your hand down his chest, down, down, down and—

“Oh,” you say. You look down at the same time as him. A noticeable wet stain is on the front of his sweatpants. “You already—”

He flops down beside you and sighs.

“Sorry,” he says. “You weren’t the only one amazed with my sexy performance.”

“That’s okay,” you say with a laugh. You roll over to rest your head on his chest. His arm comes down around you, hand running down your naked back. You giggle when he cups and squeezes your ass. You dance your fingers down his pants to the wet spot where he came. “I think it’s kinda hot, actually.”

Minho came from eating you out. Of course you think it’s hot.

And of course he has to be Minho about it.

“Okay,” he says. “Garlic. Driving in reverse. Premature ejaculation. Uptight was definitely the wrong word. I honestly don’t know if I can keep up with a freak like you—”

“Ugh!” You roll away and turn your back to him, mostly to hide the fact you are laughing at his stupid joke.

He follows you, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you from behind. This time he kisses your shoulder properly, once, twice, three times. All the way up your neck to your ear and just behind it.

“You’re lucky I like you so much,” you whisper.

“I like you too,” he whispers back, kissing your shoulder again.

You smile and close your eyes, listening to the rain and letting yourself snuggle safely in his arms.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee minho smut #skz x reader

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