#how are there so few of you yet still so chaotic (affectionate) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

3rachasdomesticbanana · 4 months ago

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Side Effects | Han Jisung

•Synopsis: Your science loving nerd of a roommate Jisung has been acting strange but that's not what has fear coursing through your body. It's the feeling that someone's watching you when you're supposedly all alone, the objects moving seemingly on their own and the phantom intimate touches that has you on edge.

Are you going crazy or is there something or someone in the apartment targeting you?

•Pairings: science geek Jisung x Female Reader

•Content Includes: smut, mentions of hauntings & hallucinations, lies and secrets, slight non-con?, somnophilia, unprotected & protected p n v, pervy Jisung, masturbation (m + f not mutual), cliffhanger, Chan makes an appearance a few times

an: if I missed something and you feel it should be included in the content warning please kindly let me know in the comments ♡

Part two will include more scenes with Bang Chan but Jisung is still included. Part three, which will be the last part, will be Jisung.

Part II

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⚠️tiny warning before continuing: there are moments where reader is unaware of what's happening due to being sleep. these moments may appear as non consensual which is the reasoning for the slight non-con warning. I tried make it known that any sexual activity that happens is welcomed. I hope I was able to convey that. Just a heads up lol. Enjoy♡

Your roommate, Jisung, is a nerd. You mean that in the most affectionate way, of course, but it’s true. When he's not helping the chemistry professor at the local college in his free time, he's experimenting in the apartment or researching different chemicals and compounds. His room is a chaotic mess of beakers, test tubes, and textbooks, everything he needs to create something from science. In the two years of living here, It’s never bothered you. Just as long as he and his equally nerdy friend, Chan, don’t blow the place up or set anything on fire. In fact, you’ve grown quite used to the faint, yet sharp scent of various chemicals wafting through the apartment over the years.

Today, the scent of acetone and metal permeates the small apartment. Jisung and Chan have been working on something for months, the two of them locked away in Jisung's cluttered bedroom. When you ask about it, they just shake their heads with a smirk and say, “Top secret, y/n.” You roll your eyes but smile, understanding their need for secrecy. You respect their space and their experiments, no matter how strange it makes them act, always offering to clean their beakers and test tubes whenever you're washing dishes. The dynamic between you and Jisung is what makes the roommate setup work.

Jisung couldn't believe his luck. Not only was his roommate hot and open minded but a gamer who's always down for a Naruto or Bleach marathon. He was so grateful that you weren't like the stuck up pretty girls he dealt with in highschool. Jisung really felt comfortable with you, he could be himself without fear of feeling like his IQ was lower than what it actually was. So whenever he and Chan were close to a scientific breakthrough and you never asked too many questions it only caused his “little infatuation” as he calls it, to grow.

One evening, you find yourself in the kitchen, hands submerged in soapy water as you scrub away at the dishes. The random playlist you chose earlier plays softly in the background and the faint scent of lemon from the dish soap mixes with the clean, crisp scent of freshly laundered towels, filling the kitchen air. You’re lost in thought, your mind drifting as you methodically clean the plates, forks, and glasses, when you feel a sudden, inexplicable chill. It’s as if a cold breeze has brushed against the nape of your neck but the windows are closed and the AC isn't on. You shiver involuntarily and glance around, half expecting to see Jisung standing there. But the kitchen is empty.

You shake your head, chalking it up to just a random chill and turn back to the sink. The sensation lingers, though—a prickling awareness like you're not alone. For ten minutes it felt like someone was there in the kitchen with you but each time you looked around, no one would be there. You could hear faint tinkering and music from Jisung's room and you knew he was working with Chan. The cold is back as you finish up the last of the dishes and when you turn around again, you nearly drop the plate in your hands. Jisung stands there, silent and unexpected. Brown eyes behind round framed glasses shine at you and he gives you an awkward smile.

"Where did you come from?" you ask, your voice higher than usual.

"Sorry," he says with a shrug. "Didn’t mean to scare you, just needed a drink."

You laugh nervously, feeling your rapidly beating heart slow down. "Jeez Ji, you should wear a bell or something." You let out a breathy chuckle.

He shrugs again and laughs quietly before grabbing a drink from the fridge and disappearing back into his room without another word. The interaction leaves you confused and slightly unsettled. Well, that was strange… stranger than usual. There’s something off but you can’t quite put your finger on it. You shouldn't really be surprised by strange behavior when it comes to Jisung but he's never acted that strange before.

Over the next few days, strange happenings become more frequent. Objects begin to move on their own; a cup slides across the kitchen counter that you barely just noticed and a book falls from a shelf behind you while you watched tv. You find yourself jumping at shadows and sounds and now you're convinced that the apartment is haunted. Of course you haven't said anything about it, Jisung would more than likely think you're crazy.

One evening, you’re gaming in the living room. Headphones on, fully engrossed in the game, when your can of soda just sort of levitates a few inches off the coffee table before gently coming back down. The controller slips from your hands as a cold sensation moves across your cheek. You jump back and scream, calling out for Jisung, but it’s Chan who saunters into the room. Curly hair wild, lab coat askew, and glasses perched on his nose.

"Jisung’s in the bathroom," he says, noticing your wide eyes and pale face. "What’s up y/n?"

"The can... it moved on its own." You stammer.

Chan chuckles, shaking his head. "Must be a temperature change or something. Science can explain a lot of weird stuff, y/n."

“Channie, it fucking levitated! Can science explain that?!” you say in a half shout, half whisper looking up at him.

“Mate, chill out.” He gives you a sympathetic smile and walks over to you to pat your head. “Science can most definitely explain that. I can show you how if you want? I'll just need a few supplies for the demonstration.” His eyes light up and he smiles wide at you, showing off his dimples.

“That’s… okay, Chan. You don't need to do that.” The lack of enthusiasm in your voice isn't missed and he chuckles, patting you again before leaving the room.

You’re not convinced, but you nod to yourself and try to focus on the game, occasionally glancing back at the can. The feeling of being watched never truly leaves, though. Every day you start to notice more—subtle things, like the way Jisung’s eyes linger on you a fraction too long, or the odd satisfaction in his smile when you mention the hauntings after you caved and told him. Jisung's watchful eyes make you feel like you're part of one of his experiments, like some sort of test subject. He's always been a bit weird at times, but this is a whole different level of weird for him. You shrug it off as stress or lack of sleep since he and Chan have the tendency to overwork.

The night is warm tonight, the air heavy with the lingering heat of the summer day. You sit in the black metal wicker chair on the balcony, a book loosely cradled in your hands, listening to the sounds of traffic and crickets below. The warm summer breeze drifts across your skin and you adjust your tank top and shorts that have already begun sticking to your skin from the heat. With a sigh, you look down at the worn paperback book in your hands and try to focus on the words.

You’re half-aware of your surroundings: the breeze, the faint smell of an impending rainstorm, the sounds of the city. It’s peaceful, lulling you to sleep. Your body relaxes, and the book slips from your fingers, resting across your lap. You're in a state somewhere between consciousness and slumber when you feel it.

It's subtle at first, like a feather brushing against your skin, but it soon shifts to the feeling of hands. The touch is hot and insistent, groping your breast under the thin fabric of your tank top. Panic surges in your chest and you force your eyes open, heart pounding in fear. You sit up, the book slipping from your lap and landing with a soft thud on the concrete floor.

You glance around, trying to make sense of what you just felt, but the balcony is empty. You glance down and your breath catches in your throat. Your left breast is exposed, the strap pulled aside in a way that couldn't have happened by accident. A cool breeze brushes against your bare skin, a stark contrast to the phantom heat of the touch you just felt. You pull your tank top back in place with trembling hands, looking everywhere but seeing nothing. Scrambling to your feet, you slide open the glass door and step inside, locking it behind you.

With your heart still thundering in your chest, you make your way to Jisung's room. When you knock on his door, you hear shuffling, the sound barely audible over the whir of some machine inside. He opens it a little and you’re momentarily stunned by the sight of him—disheveled hair, sweaty brow, black-framed glasses askew and wearing an oversized black hoodie.

"Can I help you?" he asks, his voice tinged with exhaustion.

"I think…” you sigh and brace yourself. "The apartment is definitely haunted." you blurt out.

Jisung looks shifty, eyes darting to the side but he quickly recovers and a skeptical smirk plays on his lips. "Haunted? Really, y/n?"

"I’m serious," you insist. "I think something just touched me. Out on the balcony." You point a finger in the direction of the glass door.

Jisung’s brows knit together and he steps out of his room, closing the door behind him, giving you his full attention. "Like... someone was out there?" He messes up his hair even more, running his fingers through the dark strands.

You shake your head, wrapping your arms around yourself. "No, there was no one there when I opened my eyes but it felt hands on me Ji. I don’t know how to explain it."

His eyes darken with a mixture of skepticism and concern. "So you think the place is haunted and that a ghost touched you?" You nod, your heart still pounding in your chest.

He places a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding you, if only slightly. "Sounds like you were in REM sleep. Dreams tend to feel real and vivid in that cycle." He gives you a sympathetic smile and adds, "Maybe it’s just your imagination."

You narrow your eyes at him. "I’m not imagining this, Ji." You say starting to feel frustrated.

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Okay, y/n. I’ll look into it, alright?"

Reluctantly, you nod and walk to your room with more questions than answers. As days pass, the strange activity continues. You catch glimpses of movement from the corner of your eye, feel phantom touches on your skin, and hear whispers that have no source. You're starting to feel like you're going crazy.

Jisung’s behavior becomes stranger. He spends even more time locked away, emerging only to grab food or ask you cryptic questions about your day. You start to suspect he knows more than he’s letting on but every time you ask, he deflects with a nervous laugh and spouts some scientific theory. Even Chan is acting odd, though he's usually the more grounded one among them. Not by much—Chan's a weird one too, but it’s part of his charm. He’s an adorkable dork.

The two men are lounging on the couch tonight, eyes glued to the anime playing on the screen, while you're in the kitchen preparing popcorn for the three of you. The scent of melted butter fills the air as you pour it over the freshly popped kernels.

Suddenly, Chan's voice cuts through the ambient tv noise. “You did what?!”

Jisung quickly shushes him, their heads whipping around to you as you turn to look at them, each wearing an identical, innocent grin. Weirdos, you think, shaking your head, tossing the popcorn.

You missed Jisung's whispered confession to Chan about his antics on the balcony. Chan already knew about the mysteriously moving objects and the true cause behind them. It's because he was partially involved. He and Jisung had created a liquid that granted invisibility to the drinker. Their top secret experiment they were working on for damn bear a year was almost near perfect. After successful trials on mushrooms and lab rats “borrowed” from Jisung's chem professor, they decided to take it a step further. Jisung volunteered as their human test subject, and you became the unwitting participant in their trails.

Chan never imagined Jisung would push the boundaries so far though, especially by groping you. But Jisung couldn't resist. Initially, his plan was to give you a harmless scare, maybe brush against your arm. But when he saw you asleep, your tank top revealing the side of your breast, his self-control vanished. He was overwhelmed by a primal urge and it was like his hands were moving of their own accord. He gently pulled your left breast free and gave it a firm squeeze. His mouth hovered inches from your skin, ready to kiss the mound of flesh when you woke with a start.

“Bro, I don't know if you should be taking so many doses. We're not sure if there's any side effects.” Chan cautions, his voice barely audible as you rejoin them in the living room.

Jisung stays silent, unable to respond to his partner as you settle on the floor in front of them, handing over the bowl of hot popcorn. Chan’s concerns echo in Jisung’s mind. He knows Chan is right, but the thrill of invisibility is intoxicating. He revels in the mischief, in watching you unaware of his presence. The moments when you think you're alone, wearing nothing but that oversized Tokyo Ghoul T-shirt and panties, are his favorite.

Every time you reach for a cup or a plate, the hem of your T-shirt lifts just enough to expose a tantalizing glimpse of your ass. When you bend over, the thin material of your thong outlines your pussy, making him feel certifiably insane. Sometimes he would intentionally knock something over just to watch you pick it up. The sight of you bending would make him painfully hard and he'd have to slip away to his room, unable to resist the urge to jerk off to the image that was now burned into his mind.

Jisung’s addiction to the elixir grows with each use. He tells himself it's all in the name of science, to see how much is needed for long-lasting effects but deep down, he knows it's because he can’t get enough of watching you unseen. He needs to be closer to you.

One night, Jisung decides to take things further. Pretending to go out to help the professor at the college, he sneaks back into the apartment quietly, slipping into your room while you’re in the shower. The steam fills the air of your bathroom, the hot water cascading down your body. As you stand under the spray with your back to him and eyes closed rinsing your hair, you remain oblivious to his presence. The glass door to the shower is slightly ajar, giving him a perfect view of your wet body. His breath hitches as he frees his hard cock from his sweats. It’s as if he has no control over his impulses; the need to cum clouds his thinking or maybe it's the elixir that's got him feeling this way? He rubs the palm of his hand over the head of his cock, coating it with precum. When you bend over to shave your legs, he almost cums at the sight of your bare pussy.

Jisung’s eyes are glued to the space between your thighs and the way the water bounces off your skin as the steam rising around you. He bites his lip to keep quiet, thinking, “So beautiful.” His hand moves faster, and he's bucking up into his closed fist until he can’t hold back any longer. With a muffled groan, he cums hard, splattering onto your ass and mixing with the water, washing away unnoticed by you. If only the elixir made his semen invisible too, he'd probably always cover you in the warm, wet fluid like this. He knows he would.

Watching you becomes a nightly ritual for Jisung. He drinks the pale teal liquid that is the invisibility elixir and sneaks into your room. He watches you during intimate moments, like when you fuck yourself with your fingers before bed. He hears you moan his name occasionally when you bring yourself to multiple orgasms and it only adds fuel to the fire. He never thought you found him attractive.

To him, you’re way out of his league. But watching you climax to the thought of him is a dream come true. His obsession grows, and he becomes bolder, unable to resist the urge to touch you while you sleep. Each night when you fall asleep, he lightly runs his middle finger up and down your cunt over your pajamas while he fucks his hand. The soft moans you let out in your sleep never fails to make him cum.

One particularly hot night, you decide to sleep naked on top of your covers. It's impossible to be comfortable when your pajamas stick to your overheated body. You’ve just had an orgasm and you lay there, sated and relaxed waiting for sleep to take over (though you really should get up to pee). Jisung watches you from the corner of your room, his cock painfully hard in his hand. He's lost track of how long he's actually been in here watching you. He waits until you're deep asleep, your chest rising and falling steadily, before he moves closer to your bed.

He can’t resist the sight of you, legs spread apart, pussy glistening. He begins to stroke his cock standing at the foot of your bed but it’s not enough. Before he knows it, he’s slipping out of his sweats. The bed dips as he crawls onto it but you don’t stir. He pushes your legs apart more, his breath catching as he sees just how wet you still are. Slowly he rubs the head of his cock against your folds, shuddering and the sensation. He tells himself “Just the tip,” but when he pushes into your opening, your pussy clenches around him and he can’t stop. He pushes deeper and deeper, burying himself inside you, freezing when you make a soft moan.

He waits, barely breathing before he starts to move slowly. You feel so warm and tight around him. He knows he should stop, "This is so wrong!" his inner thoughts yell at him but it feels too good.

“Fuck, Y/N, you're so wet.” he whispers in the dark, feeling bolder.

Slowly he moves but soon each thrust becomes more desperate than the last. He has to stop himself from slamming into you so that he doesn't wake you.

“Slowly… slowly… ah! Oh shit.” he mumbles quietly. “Is this what you were imagining when you came moaning my name, y/n? Hm? Were you imagining my cock pumping in and out of this tight cunt? Oh fuuuck, mm.”

His legs soon begin to shake as he watches the way his cock disappears inside your dripping cunt and slips out again, leaving his length covered in your creaminess. It's too much—the sight, the soft sighs you're making in your sleep. He pulls out just in time, pumping once into his hand before he's cumming onto his palm, careful not to leave any evidence behind.

He takes one last look at you, still sleeping, before he tiptoes out of your room and back into his. Had you woken up, you would've caught sight of Jisung cumming into his hand above you. The elixir wore off just as his orgasm hit him. He lays in his bed still feeling the lingering sensation of you squeezing his cock with your pussy and it takes a lot to not down more of the pastel teal liquid that sits on his desk and go back into your room to fuck you again.

“How can I make it last longer? There's got to be a way to lengthen the invisibility time frame without taking too many doses,” he mumbles to himself, looking up at the ceiling and lazily stroking his cock. He cums hard minutes later, moaning loudly into his pillow, replaying the sound of you moaning his name in his head and falls asleep peacefully with a smile on his face.

The next morning, you’re up early, sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in your hands. A blank sleepy expression on your face as you stare off into space. Jisung joins you, wearing his best poker face.

"Hey, y/n," he says, trying to sound casual. "Sleep well?"

You nod, your eyes, however, tell a different story. "I had a weird dream. It was so vivid... so real. It felt a lot more real than the one I had on the balcony."

Jisung’s stomach churns with guilt but he forces a smile after pouring his own cup of coffee. "Dreams can be like that sometimes. Maybe it’s stress or something."

"Maybe," you murmur, stirring your coffee absentmindedly. "It’s just... I woke up sore." Your face heats with a blush thinking about your activities before you fell asleep last night. Maybe you were too rough? But then why do you feel like you were stretched out way beyond your two fingers?

He swallows hard, trying to keep his expression neutral and ignore the growing sensation of his cock as he sits down across from you. "Sometimes dreams can manifest physically. Your mind is very powerful, you know."

You nod slowly, still feeling doubtful. You know that something strange is going on around the apartment but it's just your testimonies with no hard evidence.. Soon the conversation shifts to more mundane topics and Jisung couldn't be more relieved but the tension remains between you. Throughout the day, you barely see him. Even when Chan came by, Jisung didn't come out of his room. You got the weirdest feeling that he was avoiding you.

“Maybe he's just tired of hearing me complain about my delusions,” you wondered to yourself stirring a cup of chamomile tea.

You spent the time you weren't working convincing yourself that you were indeed experiencing some stress-induced hallucinations. Who were you to doubt someone as smart as Jisung and Chan? A week off of work would do you some good—maybe you'll give yourself a spa day, binge on junk food, and catch up on some anime.

Meanwhile, Jisung and Chan worked hours and hours trying to study their creation further. Jisung's secret of what he did last night stays that way. A secret... No way could he tell Chan—he'd probably stop the experiment, maybe destroy all their hard work and Jisung couldn't, wouldn't let that happen. He needed it now, needed you now. He wasn't just obsessed with the science and having created something that scientists have tried to create for centuries; now he was obsessed with the feeling of invisibility, obsessed with the power it gave him and obsessed with the feeling of you. He craved it all. He knew that feeling could be a side effect, as well as feeling out of control while invisible and all the reckless wrong things he did but he chose to ignore every red flag and blaring warning signs. The more he drank the elixir, the more it controlled him, possessing him with insatiable lust and desire.

That night, driven by compulsions he can't deny, Jisung slips into your room again. Once more, you're naked, lying on top of the covers and the cool air from a fan blowing over your body, makes your nipples hard. The sight takes his breath away, every inch of your body exposed to his hungry gaze again makes his mouth water. He positions himself between your legs, slipping on a condom before pushing into you. The sensation is overwhelming, and he bites down on his lip to keep from making a sound. You moan in your sleep, your hips lifting towards him, and he nearly loses it. He begins to move, each thrust slow and deliberate, watching your face for any sign of consciousness. You murmur something unintelligible but stay asleep. In and out he moves, the slow tempo is so frustrating to him but he knows he needs to be smart. You moan his name in your sleep and he flinches, startled by your voice.

"Shit..." He whispers looking down at you.

Jisung’s heart pounds in his chest, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through him. Your breathing changes, a soft whimper escaping your lips. He can't help but cum quickly and it's intense. He's trembling and panting, spilling into the condom that he hastily slipped on earlier with a grunt. He's still thrusting into you slowly, riding out his orgasm when you start to wake up.

The room is dark when your eyes slowly flutter open. A faint glow from the streetlights seeps through the blinds of your window and casts eerie shadows across your walls. There's a random sensation between your legs pulling you from the depths of sleep. At first, it feels like another dream, but it's all too real. Your eyes scan the darkness, heart pounding, but there's nothing—just the dark room and the soft rustle of the sheets.

The feeling of being filled, stretched in the most intimate way and the rhythmic movements should scare you, but the pleasure is too incredible. Your breath hitches and you find yourself moaning softly as your fingers instinctively trail down your body, finding your clit. You begin to rub, matching the invisible thrusts, your mind in a haze of pleasure and confusion.

Jisung is mesmerized by the sight and his own pleasure builds again as he watches you pleasure yourself. The combination of your fingers and his cock pushes you closer to the edge and he can feel your orgasm approaching, your muscles tightening around him.

"Fuck me harder." you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them. Your eyes squeeze shut and you arch your back lost in the intensity of it all.

Jisung bites down hard on his lip but obliges silently, thrusting harder, deeper and the bed creaks with the force of his movements. He's getting closer to a second orgasm and he can't hold back. His speed picks up and his fingers dig into your hips as he rails your eager warmth. Your body tenses, your back arching further off the bed as you cry out, the sound of your orgasm filling the room. He watches you, unseen but not unnoticed, every moan, every tremble fueling his own arousal. The sight of you coming apart because of him, the feel of you around him—it's too much. With a hard final thrust, he cums hard, filling the condom more that it's dangerously close to overflowing.

You collapse back onto the bed, chest heaving, eyes fluttering close. The room is silent, the only sound is your labored breathing. You sit up slowly, heart racing, looking around the room, but there's nothing like always—just shadows and silence. Even the full feeling is gone.

"Was… Was that real?" you whisper, voice trembling. "I'm losing my mind."

You slide out of bed, legs unsteady and make your way to the bathroom. The light is harsh, almost jarring after the darkness. You look at yourself in the mirror, skin flushed, eyes wide. The lingering effects of your climax make you shiver.

"If that was a dream, it was the most realistic dream of my entire life." you whisper to your reflection. "But if it wasn't... does that mean that whatever is haunting this place just fucked me?" You shake your head and turn the faucet on, splashing your face with cold water.

Jisung slips away, heart pounding, mind spinning. He knows he has to stop, that what he's doing is wrong in so many ways. But the memory of being inside you, the way your body responded to him awake—it’s past addictive. He can still feel the heat of you, the way you clenched around him and he’s not sure he can give that up. He retreats to his room, the guilt eating at him even as your climax plays over and over in his mind.

He lies awake, staring at the ceiling, knowing he’s crossing a line but unsure if he can ever come back from what he's doing. The need, the desire—it’s too powerful. He’s gone too far, and he knows it. The thought of stopping, of never feeling you again—it’s a torment he’s not sure he can endure. All he can think about is the moment he's able to be inside you again.

As the days pass, the tension between you grows. Jisung’s obsession deepens. He becomes reckless, pushing the boundaries of what he can get away with. When he asks how you're doing, you gloss over your experiences of the previous nights, only telling him that you had another strange dream. You don't tell him how you're starting to enjoy them or how feeling sore and wet the next morning is almost addicting.

You think you've gone insane but you embrace the lunacy. Each night, you feel the presence, the pressure, and you give in to it. Giving the ghostly dream specter a face, you've started imagining Jisung, which only makes the experience that much more real and pleasurable. You picture his face, his body, the way he would touch you if he knew your secret desires. It’s become a habit for you now, a way to cope with the confusing feelings. It's better than things getting messy between you two. You'd have nowhere to live if something went wrong between you and Jisung. No need jeopardizing your living arrangements and friendship.

The night is still early, and you can hear the two men in the other room tinkering with their experiments as you rest in your own room. Does the feeling only happen when you're asleep? Could you trigger it somehow? Should you try talking to it?

As you lie naked in your bed, you close your eyes and imagine Jisung. You see him in your mind, wearing nothing but his little lab coat and glasses, kneeling between your legs, looking down at you. You slip a finger past your folds and then another. Your fingers work furiously, slipping in and out. “Jisung,” you moan softly.

His heart skips a beat, for a moment he thought you were aware of him in your room.

“Jisung,” you whisper again into the darkness. “Please… please touch me.”

Unbeknownst to you, Jisung stands at the foot of your bed, invisible and now trembling with need. He hears your whispered plea and it’s like a spark to a stick of dynamite. He climbs onto the bed, his eyes devouring the sight of your naked body, so inviting, so ready. You feel the bed shift and gasp, afraid to open your eyes in fear of the feeling disappearing.

He moves between your legs, his hands tracing the curve of your thighs and you shiver at the familiar, unseen touch. You moan softly, your body responding instinctively, your hips lifting in anticipation. Jisung takes his time, savoring every moment, his cock already hard and aching.

He lets the bead of precum drip onto your pussy before he slides into you slowly, watching your face contort with pleasure as he stretches you. You gasp, your hands clutching the sheets, your back arching off the bed. So real, so intense, you moan Jisung's name again, the sound driving him wild.

“Jisung… yes, please…” you plead, your voice thick with desire.

He moves within you, his thrusts deep and steady, the bed creaking with each motion. You meet him with equal fervor, your hips rocking against his, your body desperate for more. The room is filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, the slick, rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh.

Jisung’s heart races, the thrill of fucking you while you moan his name, steadily pushes him to the brink. He watches your face, the way your eyes squeeze tight, the way your lips part in ecstasy and he knows he can’t stop. Not until you're cumming around him.

“Fuck, Jisung,” you cry out, your fingers digging into the mattress as your orgasm builds. “Fuck me harder.”

He does. Jisung leans into you supporting himself on one hand fucking you harder, pushing into you deeper and gripping your hip so tight it'll leave bruises but you don't notice. You meet his movements eagerly, your body arching, welcoming him in. The sound of your moans fills the room, mixing with the creak of the bed and the slap of skin against skin.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him on. “Yes, Jisung, just like that.” you pant, your voice breathy and desperate.

He's driving into you with a force that makes the bed rock and hit the wall. Your tight, wet heat and your voice spurring him on. He can feel your body tensing, can tell you’re about to cum.

“Cum for me, y/n.” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “Cum on my cock.”

You cry out, shocked at hearing a voice and your body is convulsing as you reach your orgasm. He pulls out just in time, spilling his seed onto your stomach, watching as it glistens in the dim light. He didn't mean for this to happen; he was only in your room as a test. Chan, back in Jisung's room, sits with a stopwatch timing just how long the test run will last. He was only meant to watch you. Jisung didn't have a condom this time but he can't seem to care about the consequences of leaving his cum behind.

You lie there, panting, a satisfied smile on your lips. “Jisung…” you murmur one last time before rolling over, drifting off to sleep.

Jisung watches you for a moment longer, a mix of pride and guilt churning inside him before he goes and rejoins Chan, who heard everything. He's questioned by his best friend as soon as he walks into the room. Jisung has no choice but to confess and with a deep breath he tells him everything. The watching, the touching… the sex. By the time he's done, Chan is staring at him in disbelief.

"Dude, that's... I don't even know what to say," Chan finally says. "You know that's messed up, right?"

"I know," Jisung says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know… but I can't stop. You don't understand. There's this compulsion, this undeniable need when I drink it. It's… it's like my deepest desires control me and I can't do anything to fight back. Please, help me."

Chan sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Of course, I'll help you. We're in this together. I'll be the one drinking it now, and I'll stay here to make sure you don't do anything you shouldn't. We need to be more careful from now on.”

Jisung nods and sighs with relief and for the next few weeks, they work tirelessly, refining the elixir. They study Chan's reactions, starting from the lowest dosage, slowly upping it little by little. Jisung tries to keep his distance from you, but it's hard. Every time he sees you, his desire flares up and he has to fight the urge to use the elixir again. He misses being inside you.

It's been weeks since you felt the ghostly presence and you miss it but you figured since it went away, then it really must've been due to stress and the days off from work truly helped. You didn't think you'd ever feel the strange sensation of being fucked by something you couldn't see again.

How incredibly wrong you are....

★𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔏𝔦𝔰𝔱★ wanna be tagged? Let me know here

@resi4skz @3rachasninja @moonlightndaydreams @rylea08 @hanjiphile @krayzieestay @oddracha @ldysmfrst @jeonginsbaee

#skz smut #han jisung smut #stray kids smut #han jisung x you #han jisung drabbles #han jisung imagines #han x reader #han smut #han jisung fanfiction #han jisung fanfic #han jisung hard hours #han jisung hard thoughts #han jisung oneshot #han jisung x reader

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hannieehaee · 1 year ago

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idol!mingyu and idol!you who've been secretly dating for a little over a year now, attempting to keep it a under wraps despite being currently scheduled to mc inkigayo together.

a/n: im not even gonna lie i never watch anything other than the actual performances so idrk how mc'ing works very well but i hope i did it justice somehow T-T

part 1, part 2

wc: 379

masterlist

you and mingyu had now been dating for a while, being successful at mostly keeping it a secret from both fans and the media alike.

despite a few questionable moments between the two of you (mingyu literally cannot keep his eyes off of you in public spaces ..), you've always been able to chalk it up to being close friends.

if fans were clueless, the industry was twice as unknowing, still somehow deciding it was a good idea to book the both of you to mc during the following season of inkigayo shows.

what had surprised you even more was your shared company agreeing to such a public appearance between the two of you, despite knowing rumours had began to spread about your relationship.

but being the charismatic visuals of your respective groups, the request for your appearance together was just a given to anyone who asked.

the flow between you was natural. with your matching outfits and matching personalities, you'd created a dynamic that people loved watching, sometimes even more than the main show itself.

you'd do tiktok challenges with any groups/performers coming in for comeback shows, always making sure to give a little extra fan service between one another to keep things interesting.

that tiny subsection of fans who just knew there was something going on between the two of you would go crazy over every weekly appearance, analyzing every look and tone of voice whenever you interacted.

it'd be hard for mingyu to remain cordial on screen, wanting to go into his natural state of boyfriend™️ and act in the touchy and affectionate way he would behind the scenes, but holding back for the sake of your careers.

your weekly selfies would get more and more friendly as people got used to seeing you two in a public setting.

little inside jokes between the two of you that you'd work into the script, only ever laughing at them once you were off camera.

you jokingly wacking mingyu on his arm any time he'd get a little too flirty with you on camera, making you flustered while recording, knowing you can't fluster him back because you're being recorded live.

fans begging inkigayo to bring you guys back as hosts, loving the friendly yet chaotic dynamic you two had, not knowing it was even worse off camera.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen #svt fanfic #svt #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen fluff #seventeen oneshot #seventeen scenarios #svt fluff #svt scenarios #mingyu imagine #mingyu imagines #mingyu fluff #mingyu x reader #mingyu fic #mingyu fanfic #mingyu scenario

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milk-tea-sakura · 3 months ago

Text

✧˚˖𓍢ִ໋🎧🤎☕˚˖𓍢ִ໋✧☁️˚ʚ🧸ɞ˚☁️✧˚˖𓍢ִ໋☕🤎🎧˚˖𓍢ִ໋✧

𝒞𝓌: 𝓕𝑒𝓂! 𝓡𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇, 𝒻𝓁𝓊𝒻𝒻 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝓂𝓊𝓉, 𝒞𝒽𝑒𝑒𝓈𝓎 𝒻𝓁𝓊𝒻𝒻 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝓂𝓊𝓉, 𝒶𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇𝒸𝒶𝓇𝑒, 𝒫𝑜𝓇𝓃 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓅𝓁𝑜𝓉

𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: ��𝟩𝟦𝟢

𝓔𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓂𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒: 𝟨 𝓂𝒾𝓃 𝟦𝟫 𝓈𝑒𝒸

✧˚˖𓍢ִ໋🎧🤎☕˚˖𓍢ִ໋✧☁️˚ʚ🧸ɞ˚☁️✧˚˖𓍢ִ໋☕🤎🎧˚˖𓍢ִ໋✧

Seonghwa entered the coffee shop, scanning the room for Y/n's familiar face. When he spotted her, a warm smile spread across his face as he made his way over to her.

She looked up and smiled, her face lighting up the room. "Hey," she said, patting the seat next to her.

Seonghwa slid into the seat and leaned in to give her a quick kiss. "Miss me?" he teased.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "You know I always do," she replied.

They sat together, talking and laughing, enjoying each other's company. Seonghwa couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment and peace when he was with her. They ordered their drinks and continued to chat about their day, Seonghwa sharing stories about ATEEZ's latest adventures.

"How's the comeback coming along?" Y/n asked, genuinely interested.

"It's going great," Seonghwa said with a smile. "We've been working hard in the studio, putting everything into making this comeback our best one yet."

He went on to tell her about the songs they'd been working on, the choreography they'd been practicing, and the excitement and anticipation he was feeling for the release. Y/n listened intently, asking questions and offering her support and encouragement.

As they sipped their coffee, Seonghwa couldn't help but notice a strand of hair that had fallen into Y/n's face. He reached out and tucked it behind her ear, letting his hand linger on her cheek for a moment.

Y/n blushed, her heart fluttering at his gentle touch. "You're so sweet," she murmured, smiling up at him.

Seonghwa chuckled and pulled his hand away, not wanting to embarrass her any further. "It's not fair," he said with a mock pout. "You always make me lose my train of thought when you smile at me like that."

Y/n laughed and poked him in the arm. "You're just a big softie," she teased.

Seonghwa feigned a hurt look. "Hey, I can be tough too," he protested.

Y/n rolled her eyes. "Uh huh, I've seen you when you see a puppy. You turn into a pile of mush instantly."

Seonghwa couldn't deny it. "Fine, you got me there," he admitted, grinning. "But I can't help it if puppies are just too damn cute."

Y/n shook her head, still smiling. "You're hopeless," she said affectionately. "But I love you for it."

Seonghwa felt his heart skip a beat at her words. He loved how comfortable they were with each other, how they could be silly one moment and heartfelt the next. "I love you too," he said quietly, taking her hand in his.

Y/n squeezed his hand, her heart swelling with happiness. They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, just enjoying each other's presence.

Finally, Seonghwa glanced at his watch. "I wish I could stay here with you all day," he said wistfully. "But I have to head back to the studio soon."

Y/n nodded, disappointment flitting across her face. "I know," she said. "But I'll see you tonight, right?"

"You bet," Seonghwa said firmly. "I wouldn't miss our time together for the world."

He stood up and leaned down to kiss her forehead. "I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay," Y/n said, reluctantly letting go of his hand. "Have a good practice."

Seonghwa gave her one last smile before walking out of the coffee shop, already missing her presence.

As he made his way back to the studio, Seonghwa couldn't help but look forward to the end of the day, when he could see Y/n again. He knew that their lives were busy and chaotic, but as long as he had her, everything else faded into the background.

That night, Seonghwa arrived at Y/n's house, exhausted from a long day of rehearsals but still in a good mood. Y/n greeted him with a warm smile and a hug, and he felt all his stress melt away in her arms.

They spent the evening curled up on the couch, watching a movie and sharing a bottle of wine. As the night progressed, they found themselves growing more and more comfortable in each other's presence, their hands wandering and their touches becoming more intimate.

"I've missed you," Seonghwa murmured, his lips brushing against Y/n's neck.

She sighed, arching her neck to give him better access. "I've missed you too," she breathed, her hands roaming up his back under his shirt.

Seonghwa let out a low groan, the feel of her hands on his skin driving him wild. He shifted, pulling her onto his lap so she was straddling him. His hands moved down to her hips, holding her firmly in place as he pressed kisses along her collarbone.

Y/n gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair. She could feel the heat pooling between her legs, an aching desire building with every touch of his lips. She shifted against him, seeking friction, and Seonghwa let out another low growl.

"Gahddamn, you're driving me crazy," he muttered, pulling her closer. His hands moved to the hem of her shirt, slowly pulling it up. "I need to feel you skin-to-skin."

Y/n helped him pull off her shirt, shivering as he immediately began to press kisses along her bare skin. His hands explored the curves of her body, familiar territory that he never tired of exploring. She arched into his touch, her breath coming in ragged gasps as his mouth moved down her stomach.

Seonghwa pushed her backward until she was lying on the sofa, his body covering hers. He captured her lips in a deep, hungry kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth as his hands continued to roam. "I want you so badly," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear.

"I want you too," Y/n gasped, her body arching against his. She ran her hands down his back, feeling his muscles tense and relax under her touch. "Please, Seonghwa…"

Seonghwa didn't need any further encouragement. He quickly pushed her pants down her hips, his own clothes following soon after. He positioned himself between her legs, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of her naked body. "You're so beautiful," he breathed, his voice ragged with desire.

Y/n felt a thrill of anticipation run through her at the raw need in his voice. She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him closer. "Don't make me wait any longer," she pleaded, her nails digging into his shoulders.

Seonghwa didn't need to be begged. He captured her lips again in another passionate kiss, his tongue tangling with hers as he slowly began to press into her. He groaned at the tight, wet heat enveloping him, his hips starting to move in a steady rhythm.

Y/n gasped, her back arching as pleasure coursed through her body. She met his movements, her hips rising to meet his with each thrust. She clung to him, her nails digging into his back as she felt herself getting closer and closer to the edge. "Seonghwa," she panted, her voice ragged. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

Seonghwa could feel himself losing control, the sensations coursing through his body overwhelming him. He gritted his teeth, his movements growing more frantic as he drove them both towards release. "I won't," he grunted, his voice hoarse. "You feel too good."

Y/n's moans grew louder, her body clenching around his as her pleasure coiled tighter and tighter. Seonghwa's hands gripped her hips, his nails digging into her skin as he pistoned in and out of her. He could feel her on the edge, her breath coming in ragged gasps and she clutched at his shoulders. "I'm close," she gasped. "God, I'm so close, Seonghwa."

Seonghwa was too far gone to form coherent words. He buried his face in her neck, his hips moving desperately as he sought his own release. "Come for me," he panted, his voice ragged. "Come for me, baby, please."

Y/n's body convulsed as her climax hit her like a tidal wave. She cried out, her nails digging into his skin, and Seonghwa felt her clench around him. The sensation was too much, and he followed her over the edge, his body shuddering as he spilled himself inside her.

They collapsed against each other, breaths coming in ragged gasps as they rode out the aftershocks. Seonghwa buried his face in her hair, his heart pounding against her chest. "God, you're incredible," he murmured, his voice still hoarse.

After a few minutes of catching their breath, Seonghwa gently extricated himself from Y/n's embrace, wincing slightly at the separation. He kissed her forehead tenderly. "Wait here, baby," he murmured. "I'll be right back."

He stood up and disappeared into the bathroom, returning moments later with a warm, damp cloth. He returned to the sofa where Y/n was still lying, her eyes half-lidded and her body still trembling faintly.

He sat down beside her and gently spread her legs, using the cloth to clean her tenderly. His touch was gentle and soothing, his eyes fixed on her face as he worked. "You okay?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern.

Y/n mustered a small smile, her body still feeling boneless and relaxed from their earlier activities. "I'm great," she murmured. "Just… feeling a little boneless."

Seonghwa chuckled, setting the cloth aside once he was finished cleaning her up. He climbed back onto the sofa, pulling her into his arms and settling her against his chest. "That's a good thing," he teased, his fingers stroking her hair. "Means I did my job right."

Y/n snuggled closer, burrowing her head against his chest and inhaling deeply. She loved the feeling of being held in his arms, safe and cared for. "You always do your job well," she mumbled, her words slightly slurred with exhaustion.

Seonghwa smiled at the praise, his heart swelling with affection. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his fingers still running through her hair soothingly. "Get some sleep, love," he murmured. "You need to rest."

Y/n nodded, her eyelids already drooping with fatigue. "Mmm, okay," she mumbled, already drifting off to sleep. "Love you, Hwa."

Seonghwa's smile widened at her sleepy confession. He held her close, his heart full of love and contentment. "Love you too, Y/n," he whispered, pressing another kiss to her forehead. "Sweet dreams."

#ateez x reader #ateez #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #seonghwa moodboard #seonghwa icons #seonghwa #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez smut #atiny #atz #park seonghwa #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa moodboard #park seonghwa ateez #park seonghwa icons #Lost in you

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justaticklishdeer · 5 months ago

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A Rather Eventful Night

This is a tickle fic!! Ler!Vox, Lee!Alastor (Radiostatic theme !!)

TW/CW: intense in places, a little sadomasochism stuff, lots and lots of teasing, bit fluffy

Word Count: 3,300

A certain deer sat down on the couch. He began to read a book– murder and cannibalism was prone in it. He flicks through the pages quietly, humming softly to himself. Alastor was in comfortable night clothing– much different than his professional radio host clothes. As he flicked through the book, he felt a weight on the couch. His ears flicked as he glanced over at the TV Overlord sitting there.

‘Whatcha reading there, sweetie?’

‘Nothing much. Just my usual style,’ Alastor hums, flipping the page. Vox hums softly, placing a hand on Alastor’s stomach innocently. He then pulls Alastor into his lap without warning, earning a soft squeak of surprise from the deer.

‘Shh, little buck. I’m just cuddling ya.’

Alastor settles back down, and could hear Vox chuckle in amusement at the book he was reading. ‘What? You know my style.’ Alastor flips the page again, humming some soft jazz melody to himself as he reads the book. Vox quietly reads along with him, occasionally making noises of amusement or curiosity at certain parts.

‘Hannibal Lecter, hm?’ Vox asks, knowing how Alastor was. The cannibalistic, psychotic, chaotic, beautiful deer demon he was. Insanely ripping victims apart on a live broadcast (Vox had to admit, he’d tuned in a few times). Seeing Alastor eat victims, that feral look behind those eyes of his. How insane he looked. Never truly a ‘tame’ thought in that head of his. Vox snapped himself out of his thoughts as Alastor hummed again.

‘Vox, what in heaven’s sake are you zoned out about? Unless you mean this wonderful scene here,’ Alastor chirps in an almost sassy tone, purposely teasing about the book, ‘You love how insane I am. You’re obsessed. Both of us know it, you just refuse to admit it! Haha, I’m everything to you! Years of you practically stalking me, and well, look where that got us!’ He broke into a fit of maniacal laughter. All on his own. Vox watched with a concerned, yet strangely fond and affectionate look.

‘Alright, alright, hush..calm down,’ Vox whispers, rubbing those adorable deer ears to bring Alastor out of the laughing fit. Alastor lets out a happy sigh. After a moment, he settled back into his book, getting very focused. He was very quiet throughout his reading, apart from a few hums of amusement or surprise. Vox wasn’t at all concerned about the whole thing– he knew how insane Alastor is and could get. He heard Alastor giggle maniacally. Vox noticed how Alastor was positioned– in an oddly vulnerable way. He wasn't sure if this was on purpose, so he didn't bring it up.

Alastor continued to read, his ears flicking gently in a rather pleased state. His book had completely engrossed him in the cannibal descriptions and the style in which it was written. Vox just gazed fondly as Alastor read his book. ‘Vox, you’re staring.’ ‘I am aware.’ The TV grinned, hands going to Alastor’s sides. It got little to no reaction except for a light flinch. He slowly traces shapes on his sides. Gentle. Teasing. Barely grazing over spots.

“V-Vox.” Alastor shifts, blinking, eyes wide. He tries to focus on his book, he really tries. But the sensations… Alastor whined softly, squirming in Vox’s lap. He felt the blue-tipped claws grip firmer and scribble on his sides a bit more.

“Hush, pretty boy.”

“V-Vox. S-Stahap–oho god..” He leans against Vox, his hands trembling. Alastor still had his book open, but couldn’t focus.

“Words.”

“Can you tickle me?” he asks, shameless. The deer’s body arched back slightly, and Vox turned him around to face him. “Good boy,” Vox hums softly, hands still on Alastor’s sides. The look returned from the deer was a mix of a lot of different emotions. Anticipation, giddiness, defiance..?

“So, one thing,” Vox hums, pausing the tickles, getting a desperate whine from the demon, “Eye contact. Tickles keep going as long as you can keep those pretty eyes on me. Got it?”

A helpless nod was his answer. ‘Good little tickle fawn,’ Vox growls, almost possessive. Alastor flicked his eyes up to Vox’s, almost immediately flustering himself doing so. Vox’s claws slowly trailed up his sides, earning a flustered, choked giggle from the deer beneath him. Alastor’s body jerked away from the sensations. ‘Do I need to tie those hands above your head?’ Vox asks, grinning as he gets close to Alastor’s ribs.

‘You mihihight!’ Alastor giggles, a challenging look behind those eyes of his. Vox hums and grabs a restraint, tying his hands together by the wrists before tying his hands above his head, effectively keeping him in place. Alastor squirms. Slight. Helpless. He managed to keep eye contact, though.

Vox’s fingers drag over his sides, featherlight touches that had Alastor jumping with every spot grazed over. ‘Mmm! Mhmhmhm!’ Alastor giggles out, back arching as he holds eye contact. Vox’s claws found a spot right below his ribcage and that’s where Alastor took a sharp breath in. “Tickle tickle tickle,~” Vox purred close to Alastor’s ear, and the Radio Demon’s body shivered. Hard.

‘Oh, does my tickle baby like that?’ Vox asked teasingly, one hand going to the necklace collar he had put on Alastor before this whole thing started. Alastor gasps with surprise as he nods shyly. His back arches as Vox scratches along his ribs. Slow. Teasing. Gently, and not so gently, digging in between the ribs. Alastor’s back arched as he let out a choked whine.

‘Good boy. Such a good boy.”

“Vahahox..oho god,” he let out multiple whimpers as Vox’s claws trail down to his stomach. He felt the claw circle around his navel, teasingly scritching right above it. Alastor’s body shuddered hard as he let out a bleat of ticklish pleasure. ‘Mmm! Mhmhmhm! Juhust like tha–ahat!~’ his back arched again, his smile genuine. Happy. Blissed out. Tail wagging, ears flicking.

He breaks eye contact and Vox’s hands come off of him. Alastor let out a whine. “Pl-plehease..”

“You know the rule..Eye contact.”

“V–Vox. Vox. Th-thihis shouldn’t–” Alastor starts. Vox cuts him off, chuckling, ‘But it does. And you love it. Otherwise I believe you would have safeworded to me by now?’ A whiny giggle and nod was the response. Alastor’s eyes slowly flick back up to his, and Alastor was rewarded with the claws returning to his tummy. He gasps and giggles happily, deer tail wagging. All delighted that he was getting the attention he wanted.

Vox’s claws scribble up his sides, lingering below his ribcage for a few seconds just to see and hear the reactions. Alastor started to squirm, trying to arch away from the persistent scribbling at that spot. He whines out, ‘Vhahaohox, anywhehere else wohould be great!’

‘Hmm, no..I believe I can linger here a little while longer, don't you think?’

Alastor whimpers and tugs at the restraints Vox had him held in. ‘Plehease–plehease! Plehehease–Vohox it’s bad–it’s bahad!’ Alastor started to tug harder as Vox’s claws persisted, one side going slow and easy, the other doing quick scribbles. Alastor arches away from the touches, unsuccessfully. He whines out, ‘Plhehease! Pleasepleaseplease–’

‘Please what? Please…tickle tickle tickle you? Right here? Up on these ribs?’ Vox coos, scribbling up to his ribs, massaging lightly to feel for his ribs. Alastor arched away, maintaining eye contact by sheer willpower. He was attempting to show he was the one in control here, although Vox was proving otherwise. The Radio Demon tries to thrash away from it, but the restraints and Vox’s hands held him in place. The TV Overlord began to teasingly crawl up to his underarms, making Alastor’s breaths get frantic. ‘Vox–Voxvoxvox I-I knohohow whahahat you’re thihihinking! I knhohow! Dohohn’t–hahaha-! Dohohon’t dohoho it!’

Vox ignores the pleas–he knew if Alastor really didn’t want it, the safeword would’ve been thrown out by now. He slowly crawls his claws up to scribble at Alastor’s underarms at a relentless pace. Alastor screams and arches up as far as he could go. His breathing was all frantic and messy, and his laughs were like no other. Begging, whining, whimpering, silent laughs, desperate pleas. Vox just chuckled and watched his victim break eye contact after a second more of this treatment.

His hands came off and Alastor gave him an almost offended look. ‘Why…why’d ya stop? I was handlin’ it just fine…’

‘You broke eye contact,’ Vox hums teasingly. His fingers swirl slowly over Alastor’s underarms as Alastor glares at him. ‘Mmhm, there you go. Good boy, such a good tickle toy for me, aren’t you? You’re such a pretty little tickle fawn..pretty boy…adorable ticklish baby…” He watched Alastor squirm at the teases. The eye contact became more profound. Vox’s claws scribble quicker, making Alastor jolt and giggle happily. His tail wagged gleefully behind him.

His giggles soon melted into blissed out whines. Pleas to move to a different spot. Vox grins, continuing to gently–and roughly–scratch and swirl on his underarms. He loved the effect he had on the usually composed Radio Demon. The way his body reacted and jolted every time he hit a sensitive spot. All the deer could focus on was the feeling of those damned claws on his underarms. He weakly pulls at the restraints again, but not as much vigor in his movements.

‘Plehease–please! Anywhehere…ohohho…else–heheh!’

Vox’s claws scribble back down his sides, settling on the area between Alastor’s ribs and the side of his stomach. The spot wasn’t as bad, but yet still had a bit of sensitivity to it. Alastor squirmed, giggling as he kept eye contact with the TV. He could practically feel how much enjoyment Vox was getting from this–he knew how the idiot–affectionate–was wired. How his stupid little brain worked. How obsessed he was with the deer. Alastor seemed to zone out to his own thoughts, before a quick scribble to his lower stomach jolted him back into reality.

He gasps and whines out, ‘Nohohot the tuhummy, nohot yehet!’

‘Aww, does the ticklish little fawn want me to go for his hooves instead? Or maybe his ears?’ Vox teased. Alastor’s body shudders at the mere suggestion. ‘Hm. That’s what I thought…such a good tickle toy..all mine to play with and make him laugh and bleat his little heart out…’ Vox went to try to teasingly boop Alastor’s nose, only to get a playfully aggressive snap of the teeth towards him. ‘Oh, so you’re gonna be a biter, then? Well, we can fix that..’

With a playful scrunch of his fingers, he begins to relentlessly scribble and spider over Alastor’s tummy, making sure to get under his deer fur which ultimately heightened the sensations by a lot. Alastor’s thrashing became more desperate, and his eye contact broke almost instantly as soon as the claws got to his deer fur.

Vox’s fingers come off of him yet again, giving him a sensation equivalent to a numbed person. He felt these odd tingles still running through his nerves. Alastor squirmed, trying to understand the sensations. His ears flicked around, as if looking for a radio signal. Vox chuckles, watching his little buck squirm and try to wriggle so his fingers would be back on the precious little belly.

‘V-Vox–’

‘Ah, ah, ah. You know the rule we both agreed on. Don’t you, sweetheart?’ he croons near Alastor’s ear, making the affected ear flick and flatten, trying to escape the verbal ‘assault.’ Vox chuckles, sitting back on Alastor’s thighs while he waits all too patiently for Alastor’s eyes to meet his once more. He casually checks his claws, making small sparks come from his claws as he chuckles.

‘You know, sweetie..I have an idea.’

‘Wh-what is it?’ Alastor asks, almost scared, a flicker of fear crossing his features.

‘Do you have honey?” Vox asks, the question almost..innocent. He had this smug look on his face, with a glint of near malice in his eyes. Alastor’s eyes widen before he blinks, confused. ‘Honey?’ Vox nods, a finger slowly swirling into Alastor’s navel, drawing out a loud fawn-like bleat which he quickly covered up with an embarrassed cough.

‘I-I–mmmMMm!~ y-yehes–? I do–its-its, heh, in-in…oho..thehe…’ he trails off, radio filter dropping as he blisses out from the navel teases. He bucks his hips a little, high pitched giggle whines flowing out.

“The kitchen?” Vox finishes his sentence. A shaky, breathy nod from Alastor. ‘Okay, I’ll be right back. You just–’ Vox pauses, remembering he had Alastor tied there, ‘--uh, just..chill there. For a minute, okay?’ Alastor whines and nods, wriggling slightly as the tickles stop.

Vox stands up, scritching at his deer ear a little before standing up. He makes his way to the kitchen, which is the next room over. He looks through cupboards, not all too phased by the meat cleavers and skinning tools–it was Alastor, for Lucifer’s sake. He rummages through spices and sauces, skimming over labels, jars, containers, and other similar things. He found the jar of honey with a satisfied hum, grabbing it and closing the cupboard door. He grabs a spoon with a soft chuckle. He walks back to where Alastor was restrained on the couch, sitting down with a quiet murmur of greeting.

Alastor glances at the honey with a puzzled look. ‘What in God’s name do you plan to use that for?’

Vox snickers, ‘Glad you asked. I was going to use it on that pretty tummy. That is, if you’re okay with it.’ He may have been a little sadistic, but always wanted to make sure the person being tickled was perfectly okay with what he planned to do. ‘Oh, and one more thing. The eye contact thing doesn’t need to be in place since I’ll have my eyes down on your pretty little tummy,’ Vox teases. Alastor rolls his eyes in playful defiance.

‘How bad can it be? All you’re doing is essentially messing my fur a bit up, which then requires me to bathe myself later. So yes, go ahead.’

Vox grins in amusement. He opens the jar of honey, using one hand to push Alastor’s shirt up further from where it had ridden up slightly. Vox takes the spoon and puts it into the honey, gently putting some on Alastor’s stomach. The deer jolts slightly at the sensation–almost cold. He shifts in the restraints, squirming a little. He wasn’t exactly sure where Vox had gotten this idea, but he wasn't going to complain. Yet.

Vox leans down and starts to fucking lick the honey off of Alastor’s stomach. Alastor jolts and bucks, digging his hooves into the couch cushions as he tries to understand the sensations. “Wahahait! Wait! Vahahaohox-! Thahat’s bad! That’s bad!’ Vox doesn’t let up, at all. In fact, he makes his actions more teasing. Slow. His tongue licks up the sweet honey from Alastor’s fuzzy tummy, and he could feel the Overlord trembling from it all. He could barely hear Alastor’s giggles–he was pretty sure they were silent by now. He looked up and saw Alastor was just laying there taking it.

‘Good boy, such a good boy,’ Vox says between licks, then moves to Alastor’s navel. Which instantly got a reaction. Alastor bucks and bleats loudly like a fawn as Vox’s tongue slides into his navel. Vox chuckles against Alastor's stomach, continuing to tease his navel. Alastor was trying to thrash, but Vox had his claws resting on the deer’s hips to keep him in place. ‘Fuhuhuhck! FUHUCK!’ Alastor screams with laughter, bleating loud again.

Vox uses his claws as well, scritching around Alastor’s navel. After a minute, he started to melt into the sensations, blissing out again. ‘It huhurts–ohoho it huhurts–buhuhut good!~’ he giggles in some deranged, blissed out way. Vox continues doing it, and actually could hear Alastor crying through laughter. His masochistic side was coming out, and strong. He kept complaining how bad it hurt, but didn’t safeword. Vox decided to be less sadistic, letting up on the navel teases for now. He goes back to licking and nibbling across the stomach of the trembling radio host, loving how he tried to twist away from him out of reflex.

‘Voxvoxvoxvox–!’ Alastor started to beg through giggles as the nibbles got gentle, and hands tickled up and down the side of his tummy. He snorts and bleats when the claws reach up to scratch gently at the spot right below his ribcage. Why was that area so sensitive? Alastor didn’t really know why. ‘Such adorable noises from an adorable little ticklish fawn,’ Vox said with a fond smile.

‘Ihi’m not a fahawn!’ he said, little giggles slipping out. He felt the television overlord nibble up his tummy, then stop a few inches below his sternum. He had completely forgotten about his complaint about honey and sticky fur, only able to focus on the tickles. Vox sat up, humming, ‘Should we try our little eye contact game again?’ He could hear a little whiny giggle from Alastor, who had his face buried in the crook of his elbow. He could tell it was a yes, otherwise Alastor would’ve spoken up about it already. ‘Eyes on me, sweetie,’ Vox coos, scritching at the side of Alastor’s neck, making him jerk and look back up at Vox.

‘Good boy.’

He reaches down to fiddle with Alastor’s tail, earning a squeal and Alastor trying to lurch himself away from Vox. Vox held a gentle but firm grip on his tail. He scratches gently to get underneath the fur, making Alastor wheeze and struggle to keep eye contact. He doesn’t let up until Alastor absolutely begs him to move to a different spot.

He slid down to his hooves, and he could see Alastor’s eyes widen.

Oh, deer.

He felt Vox’s claws dig into the fluffy spot and he kicked his hooves, unable to escape from the grip of the other overlord. Vox managed to hold his hooves with one hand and torment them with the other. Alastor giggles and thrashes, trying to wriggle away. The restraints on his wrist were really the only thing keeping him bound to the couch. Vox decided to go for the kill and began to emit small shocks from his claws, horribly ticklish to the poor deer.

Alastor’s laughs go silent and he arches his back, desperately trying to get control.

Then, the safeword slipped.

‘Rehehehed! Rehed!’

Vox stopped instantly, his claws coming off of him. He stands up, untying Alastor. ‘Do you need water?’ Vox asked gently, and the radio demon nodded. Vox stands up, petting his ears gently before going to grab a glass of water.

Alastor was curled up, panting and giggling still. But, he loved the events that had just played out. He sits there, exhausted and waiting for him to come back. Vox comes back a moment later with a glass of water, handing it to the trembling little buck.

‘You did amazing for me, little buck,’ Vox said, stroking through Alastor’s hair as he drank the water. He admired the way Alastor looked, all exhausted and giggly from their session. Alastor leans onto him, content.

‘You’re lucky I saved my page,’ he grumbled playfully.

‘Oh, please. You would’ve found it at some point,’ the other laughs, ruffling Alastor’s hair. He smiles–genuine–and lets the television overlord pet his ears after he finished his water.

‘Thank you for respecting..safeword,’ Alastor sighs softly, all happy.

Vox nods, his electrical inner workings humming softly. Alastor half asleep on him, the soft hum of radio static, the moonlight flowing through the windows. It made it feel perfect. And perhaps, Alastor would feel the same way, even if not admitted aloud.

Vox continues to pet his ears, a fond, half asleep gaze on him as he watches the exhausted deer doze off.

‘My perfect little fawn,’ he hums softly, before starting to fall asleep himself.

Perhaps Hell wasn’t so bad with Alastor around.

#sfw tickling community #tword community #tickle content #tickle #lee!alastor #ler!vox #radiostatic #hazbin hotel tickles

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hard-core-super-star · 1 year ago

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During an interview with Hailee, someone asks reader to marry them, and Hailee isn't too happy about it.

it it cool that i said all that? [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: hailee steinfeld x actress!reader

summary: doing interviews with your girlfriend is all fun and games until someone gets too comfortable with their questions.

warnings: none, just fluff; a speck of possessive hailee; two dashes of (not-so) secret relationship vibes; awkward interview moments that gave me second-hand embarrassment while writing

wordcount: 1.1k

a/n: does anyone else remember when comic-con was a big deal? yeah, me neither. so, instead of a convention-type vibe, i went the talk show route. [specifically stephen colbert because he's the only host i can honestly say i like] slowly but surely getting through all of my requests but the urge to write alpha!kate pt. 2 is starting to take over my life so...don't be surprised if i disappear for a few days and then post it out of the blue.

* * * * * * *

There are only a few things more nerve-wracking than having to sit in front of a room full of people and answer questions you’re definitely not prepared for despite all the time you’ve spent overthinking. The only thing that could possibly make that situation more anxiety-inducing is having to do it next to someone you’re dating…in secret.

It’s not a well-kept secret by any means but the lack of confirmation from both parties is more than enough to have fans from both sides analyzing every single comment that gets exchanged. You don’t really mind it, even though sometimes you feel like there’s a target on your face.

A target in the form of looks you can’t hide and smiles you don’t share with anyone but Hailee.

Okay, so maybe you’re incredibly obvious about your feelings for her but it still took her until after you finished filming Hawkeye to realize the truth hiding beneath all your stupid jokes. It would be easy to make fun of her for being so oblivious if you weren’t exactly the same way.

It took more than a few tries but the two of you eventually gathered enough courage to be honest with each other leading to the start of quite possibly the most chaotic but most rewarding relationship you’ve ever had. Just because most people in your life haven’t caught up yet doesn’t make it any less amazing.

The thing no one prepared you for, though, is having to do talk show interviews while avoiding the topic of said relationship. It’s not like either of you is genuinely trying to hide the truth, it’s just easier to explore your developing feelings when there aren’t a ridiculous amount of eyes trained on the pair of you.

Eyes that sometimes don’t quite know how to read the room.

Which brings you back to your current situation. You and Hailee are sitting slightly too close together while doing another interview where you have to dance around spoilers while trying to get people excited for Hawkeye.

It turns out, you don’t actually have to do much since seeing the two of you together seems to be more than enough to get people talking about the show.

“So, y/n, I know this is your first time doing an interview like this and I don’t want to scare you away so how about we get some questions from the audience?”

The crowd erupts into cheers and you can’t help but let out a nervous laugh even though you already knew this was going to happen. Being notified ahead of time still isn’t enough to stop you from worrying about what this segment will bring.

“What’s the worst that could happen right?” You joke, sharing a look with Hailee who merely shakes her head at you.

Of course, the list of “worst things that could happen” is quite long when it comes to people asking you whatever they want.

And right now, the way the brunette hasn’t let go of your hand since you sat down is definitely at the top of everyone’s list of questions. You’re sure no one is surprised by how affectionate she can be sometimes but it’s unusual to see her happily holding onto someone in a room like this one.

You swallow down your nervousness in order to focus on the questions that get thrown your way. Most of them are, in all honesty, softballs. Things like,”What was your favorite part about shooting Hawkeye?” and “Who’s the strongest Avenger?”

You’re thankful for the easy questions until the humor your responses carry inspires some…bolder comments. Stephen lets everyone know the next question will be the last and the lucky fan who’s chosen takes her chance.

“Marry me?”

The easy atmosphere of the room leaves you completely unprepared for the question and the only real response you can offer at first is a laugh. A laugh that earns you a grin from the bold fan and a glare from your unamused girlfriend.

“Yeah, sure,” you reply with a shrug. “My manager will email you my schedule.”

Your response is just as unexpected as the question which just makes the audience laugh harder.

There’s a slightly smug look on your face that disappears the second you turn to look at Hailee.

She’s an actress, and a fantastic one at that, so she hides her emotions well. Unfortunately, you’re an expert at reading her and the lack of a smile on her face tells you all you need to know.

“Too bad you have a very busy schedule,” she says through a chuckle that sounds more forced than anything you’ve ever heard out of her.

“True, true. I’m a very responsible dogsitter and I don’t think Martini would be fine with me leaving her for so long.”

“Does she get jealous easily?” Stephen clearly picks up on you trying to change the topic but Hailee’s not done voicing her displeasure.

“Her owner does.” The words are a mere mumble but the microphone picks her up loud and clear.

Your eyes widen and her comment renders you utterly speechless. It’s not that the words are a complete surprise, you just can’t believe she actually said that in the middle of an interview.

She realizes what she said a few seconds later and her soft eyes meet yours. There’s a layer of nervousness in them that she can’t quite hide and the sight makes your heart clench. You can’t do much to reassure her though so you merely squeeze her hand three times and let the interview continue.

The minutes feel like hours but you eventually wrap up and are allowed to go back into your shared dressing room. Hailee all but drags you inside and you close the door behind you once you're in the safety and privacy of those four walls.

“I shouldn't have said that,” she blurts out, her hands emphasizing her words and the anxiety they carry. “I just, I don't know what came over me. It was stupid and I’m-”

“Lee.” You quickly cross the small space between you and grab onto her slightly shaky hands. “You don't have to apologize, everything’s fine.”

She blinks a few times but the action doesn't get rid of the genuine surprise that's etched onto her features. “You…You're serious?”

“Incredibly. I thought it was cute that you got jealous like that.”

Her usual playful energy comes back the instant she realizes you're not upset. And it very quickly becomes clear she's not actually upset either.

“Excuse me, I wasn't jealous. I just thought it was a lame question.”

“Mhmm, right.” You let go of her hands in order to wrap your arms around her waist and pull her close. “I'll make sure to remind you of that if I ever propose.”

She leans in to kiss you until her brain catches up to your joke. There's a hint of a pout on her lips that makes you chuckle.

“What do you mean if?”

You don't bother with replying and instead kiss her again, knowing your actions will be more than enough to soothe her worries.

#hailee steinfeld x reader #hailee steinfeld x female reader #hailee steinfeld x you #hailee steinfeld x y/n #hailee steinfeld fic #hailee steinfeld imagine #hailee steinfeld fanfiction #hailee steinfeld fluff #hailee steinfeld #hawkeye #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #wlw #wlw fic #writing

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ddarker-dreams · 1 year ago

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Yan Risotto Nero with a F Reader who has low iron HCs. Commissioned piece.

Risotto Nero utilizes every method at his disposal to run frequent surveillance on you. He could entrust this task with his La Squadra subordinates, and maybe he would if it was for business, but this is a more personal undertaking. The skills he's sharpened from engaging in assassination throughout the years come in handy. He learns your routine, when you're most likely to be alone, what routes you take, his justification being that he can't properly protect you if he doesn't have this knowledge.

He is extremely methodical — for a time. He isn't the type to enter your home and leave behind evidence of his presence. No window or drawer is left askew. Risotto considers this a form of profiling. Engaging with you one-on-one is too risky, a fact that leaves a void in his being. He exercised better self-restraint than most yanderes would bother to employ. Eventually, though, the gnawing desire to know you won out against any shreds of respect for what little privacy you have left. What does your wardrobe look like? What television channel did you leave off on? How is your cooking? These questions and more oppress him to the point that satisfying his curiosity overwhelms any flimsy moral justification that he's simply 'looking out for you from afar.'

The life he leads is chaotic and wrought with bloodshed. You bring a semblance of normalcy, this sweet consistency that he finds endearing, though he'd never admit it. Once you're finally in his possession, you'll have a difficult time gauging his motivations. He isn't physically or verbally affectionate, the few words he utters are more like commands, and his demeanor as a whole is intimidating. What you will pick up on eventually is his micromanaging of your diet. He's unnervingly silent should you lash out, allowing you to get your frustration out of your system until exhaustion settles in, yet when it comes to your physical health, his boundaries are firm.

How he came to learn of the low iron levels in your body is somewhat bizarre. His Stand, Metallica, boasts the ability to manipulate iron. The writhing bunch made their displeasure known upon you entering his vicinity. Since Stands are manifestations of the user's soul, Risotto's hypervigilant care for your well-being bleeds into his Stand's behavior. They clued Risotto into the issue so that he could see you're taken care of.

Mortally harming the human body is more in his skillset than healing it. He is curious to see if his Stand could potentially boost the iron in your body to the levels necessary. Unfortunately, this falls outside his purview, he decreases iron in his opponent's bloodstream by focusing it and turning it into a weapon. He can't influence the levels themselves. Regardless, his Stand still enjoys lingering near you. They have no shame expressing how smitten they are, unlike their stoic user.

Risotto isn't a captor who demands much from you. About the most he'll ever ask is for you to fill the air with conversation, should uncomfortable silence ever linger. There's a warmth to your voice that sets him at ease. The topic doesn't matter and he probably won't chime in aside from an occasional word or phrase. Everyone has their own way of relaxing after a stressful day at work, this just happens to be his.

While he is sweet on you, he doesn't shy away from letting you feel the weight of various consequences. For instance, since you're more likely to feel fatigued, he expects you to sleep and wake up at a certain time. Should you try staying up later than he permits out of spite, he won't stop you. He intends to never reveal his Stand's full capabilities — such as how he can manipulate iron to reflect light around his person, effectively rendering him invisible. Unbeknownst to you, he'll be in the corner of the bedroom, unimpressed with your disobedience. Some lessons are best learned firsthand. The following day, when exhaustion weighs you down, he'll reproach any attempt from you to seek caffeine or a nap. He takes a "you've made your bed, now lay down on it" sort of approach.

This serves a dual purpose. While it's also a nonviolent method of 'encouraging' your adherence to his wishes, it also paints him in this omnipotent light. How did he know you were awake? You specifically wait until he left the room before indulging your mischievous streak. Does he have night vision cameras installed? How does he know your iron levels without taking blood for bloodwork? Over time, these strange instances build up inside your psyche. You get the sense he isn't exactly like most people yet the full extent of it is lost on you.

As a result, paranoia sets in, heady and thick. You overestimate his capabilities. Should you try this escape attempt, seeing as you're home alone? ... Are you home alone? Your hand will hover over the doorknob, covered in perspiration, internally weighing if the risk is worth it. Meanwhile, this could be an instance where Risotto actually isn't present, yet the threat looms in the air all the same.

Ultimately, he wants a healthy dosage of fear, not a debilitating amount. His rules are rather straightforward and most pertain to your health. He never loses his penchant for observing you while you're unaware, but figures what you don't know can't hurt you. When you are cognizant of his presence, he tries somewhat to come across as less intimidating. He doesn't want you cowering at the sight of him. This leads to mixed results, more often than not. He can reassure you that he isn't going to hurt you all he wants, but his towering height and muscular appearance do little to dissipate your concern.

He might not fall for blatant attempts at manipulation, but should you be sweet on him, you can earn a few privileges. It just takes a lot of mental preparation to go up to this man and try for a hug. The stress almost isn't worth the potential benefits.

#risotto nero x reader #yandere risotto nero x reader #jjba x reader #yandere jjba x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader #commissions #my stuff

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tickle-her-senseless · 4 months ago

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🃏: How important is joking around as part of a session?

Hiya lovely! Thanks for the ask ☺️ I don’t normally receive any of these, so it helps me to feel like an actual community member instead of a gif dispenser 😂

It depends on the type of session, I think. Bear with me as I’m going to waffle a bit before answering your question 😅

When it comes to tickling, none of us just woke up one day and said “I’m choosing this kink for logistical reasons X, Y and Z” - we just felt a unique and powerful thrill when we saw, experienced or thought about it, and eventually explored that thrill and its implications for us. However, there are definitely some big perks of loving tickling and one is the versatility of it. Depending on the occasion, it can be…

🕊️affectionate, gentle, soft

🐬playful, chaotic, raucous

🌿cathartic, soothing, therapeutic

❤️‍🔥erotic, sensual, intoxicating

🐺sadistic, torturous, unbearable

Any/all of these session dynamics, along with the various combinations of them, can be exactly what someone needs on any given day. I feel as though joking around is a massive part of the chaotic playful one, especially if it’s a switchy session. I have to be able to relax around the people I play with, so banter and teasing is a big part of it.

It can also be a big part of sadistic tickling. Misdirection, exploiting loopholes in someone’s attempts to bargain and beg, offering them a choice and picking the one they don’t choose … different type of joking of course, but still so much fun for both people as long as everyone’s actual limits are respected. For example, when I get a rare opportunity to lee, “sarcastic fake sympathy” and comments on how ticklish my >insert death spot here< is will massively enhance my experience. The ler referencing the role reversal and how I probably wish that I could do this to them instead will drive me crazy! But if they ever strayed into insults eg. “you pathetic worm” or whatever, I’d stop the session immediately.

From a ler’s POV, I can shut up if preferred but my natural dynamic is to be pretty vocal and most of that will involve joking around in some form. For instance…

Feigned sympathy: “Wow, that looks like it tickles horribly … ohhh honey … I know … I know …”

Praise/compliments: “Stop? I could … I probably should … I would, but you see, I haven’t gotten to tickle that cute little belly of yours yet. Sorry - just too tempting to pass up …”

Pretending to be worried about the noise: “Honestly, what a fuss! Maybe if I tickle you properly, only dogs will be able to hear you squealing and nobody will come to save you …”

Forcing them to count down from ten, and ambushing them with surprise tickles before they finish: “Sorry, in my defence you were slow and I was bored …”

Showing them a thirsty Tumblr post they made that week and suggesting the exact scenario, announcing a “snack break” only to nibble and suck their toes, appearing to get sidetracked and make earnest conversation for a few seconds before breaking off mid-sentence to razz their bare tummy over and over, pretending to get your index finger stuck inside their belly button and trying to wiggle it loose this way and that … there are so many opportunities for pure silliness.

So yeah, while joking around won’t be everyone’s cup of tea all of the time, eg. when doing an interrogation scene with IRL roleplay or getting extra hot and heavy etc, it usually features in my play pretty prominently. How about you, what d’you think? Thanks again for the ask, hope you’re having a great week so far 😊

#tickle community #tickling #tickle asks #sensitivemarie #tickling community

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kairiscorner · 1 year ago

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OK HMO

If most spider people would swing with their civilian S/Os… this time Jess takes you on a motorbike ride for a late night date 👀

OH SHE WOULDDDD she's so kickass what...... also this'll be pre-pregnancy jess !!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

late night drive — jessica drew x civilian!reader

"what're you staring for?" she asked you with a grin as you gawked at her motorbike and back at her with a wide smile. you chuckled nervously as she tossed a helmet at you. "jess, i, uh..." "if you're gonna tell me you're too scared, then guess we can call it a night." she teased as you took a step forward. "oh, no! no, no, i... i just wasn't expecting for you to--" "well, honey, expect the unexpected when dating me." she quipped as you smiled even broader at her and hastily put the helmet on.

you climbed up onto the motorbike and adjusted your bottom on it, still feeling like this was a dream. jess had always warned everyone else who came close to touching her motorbike to never lay a finger on it, and you assumed the same went for you, too. but tonight, you had the luxury of riding on her motorbike--being this close to her when nobody but her has the authority to ride her motorbike; though luckily, you're the only one she has a soft spot for.

"hope you're ready for this, hon." she said as you tried to hold on to her, awkwardly shifting from holding on to her shoulders, to her hips, to her waist. before you could get another word out, jess revved up the engine and sped through the empty highway. this was the best time at night, or really early morning; hardly any traffic to keep you two from driving off into the distance, with jess asking you if you were okay, and when she heard your answer, she'd rev up her engine even more and take you on an even faster ride!

it felt so terrifying, yet exhilarating, all at once. you found yourself clinging on to jess, and though she'd tease you for this in a regular setting, she was starting grow even fonder at how much you clung to her. she'd do a few stunts to impress you, nothing too dangerous, but just enough to get you screaming and holding on to her for dear life. "babe!" she exclaimed as you held her tightly, barely able to hear her as the wind passed you by harshly. "yeah?" you responded to her as you peered up at her, with her turning her head a little to look at your eyes. "i love you!" she said with a grand grin on her face as you got flustered by her affectionate words. "i... i love you, too!" you exclaimed as you wrapped your arms around her even tighter as she got flustered, too, in the face and smiled wider.

jess was always reminded by you why she became spider woman, why she agreed to take on the responsibility of the powers she was bestowed; it's to make the world safer for not only citizens who can't defend themselves, but to hear, see, and feel you close to her and let you live a life of peace and quiet, like what she promised you. though, a little bit of chaotic fun every now and then is good, isn't it? and man... did she do a lot of living in this moment right now with you, it's all she's wanted and will ever want, as long as she's standing.

#jessica drew #jessica drew x reader #jessica drew x you #jessica drew x y/n #jessica drew fluff #jessica drew fanfiction #atsv #atsv fluff #atsv imagines #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff

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vatyrie-avaris · 7 months ago

Text

OC background

tagged by @thetavolution and finally getting around to it lol

art by @darpart

B A S I C S

Full name: Vatyrie Viceroy Avaris

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Pansexual

Pronouns: He/Him

O T H E R

Family: -> Father: Orias Avaris -> Mother: Ishtar Glasyus Avaris -> Older Brother: Darius -> Older Sister: Bedelia

Birthplace: Demi-devil citystate of Azaroth just south of the Firesteap Mountains in the Shaaran Desert

Job: currently - Ranger/Sellsword; past - courtesan; noble

Phobias: Thalassophobia

Guilty pleasures: Indulging in an occasional smoke, preferably of an Infernal variety. Tobacco/drugs of that variety are difficult to come by outside of hell-influenced areas, so he saves what he finds for rare occasions. Also he loves good strong coffee.

Hobbies: Alchemy and herbalism, climbing and acrobatics, petty theft, music (listening mostly, playing/singing on rare occasions), archery

M O R A L S

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral, usually good leaning

Sins: Greed, so lots of theft and stinginess. Growing up a noble made him very haughty and manipulative, but that has toned down now. He is still cocky and sarcastic. Disingenuous and distrusting due to past trauma. Oh, also murder.

Virtues: He is protective and encouraging of those few he does get close to. He is witty, charming, and playful at his best, and his skills make him insightful, meticulous (when he can focus), and discreet.

T H I S O R T H A T

Introvert / Extrovert

Organized / Disorganized

Close-minded / Open-minded

Calm / Anxious / Restless

Disagreeable / Agreeable / In between

Cautious / Reckless / In between

Patient / Impatient / In between

Outspoken / Reserved / In between

Leader / Follower / Flexible

Empathetic / Unempathetic / In between

Optimist / Pessimist / Realist

Traditional / Modern / In between

Hard-working / Lazy

R E L A T I O N S H I P S

OTP: Vatyrie/Astarion. Playing through bg3, I was shocked at how well their stories foil each other. Both have a core desire for freedom and want to be loved/cared for but fear suffering for it. I could go on all day with the two of them

Acceptable Ships: I think he could bond well with Wyll as well, if Wyll was willing (or wylling) to put in the work to build his trust and show him the benefits of selfless heroicness. Other people's OCs are also cool with me, if you think he's a good match!

Brotp: -> Karlach reminds him of his sister and once they get close, they get along like a house on fire (a bit too apt of a metaphor lol). -> He also loves gossiping with Shadowheart, and appreciates her private yet sometimes goofy nature. -> And of course, Astarion is a best friend who he finds fun, relatable, and talented.

Notp: He might not work in a relationship with everyone (very few actually) but he could comfortably have a sexual relationship with just about anyone. At heart, he is a very tactile and affectionate person, and sex is more of a hobby/fun pass-time to him (love making/emotional intimacy is more sacred to him). Only thing I can think would be The Emperor, because there is so much suspicion and distrust and anger at the manipulation and of being someone's tool again.

Tagging: @soundofcomets, @mellybaggins, @foxtrickster13 If yall would like to do so (no pressure of course)

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taatianaad · 1 month ago

Text

The Price of Love

The lights of sunset softly illuminated the streets of New York. It was a pleasant autumn day, one of those when the fresh air brings with it a refreshing energy. Y/N walked between Alex Cabot, her elegant and always stylish mother, and Casey Novak, her other mom, with that mix of seriousness and warmth that Y/N always admired. After a long time filled with busy schedules, they had finally taken a day off to enjoy together—a simple escape that was as comforting as it was needed.

The tranquil steps down the street seemed to be part of a harmonious routine. Y/N smiled as they shared lighthearted stories, laughing at some past anecdote. Alex was talking about a recent case that had just wrapped up, and Casey responded with some sarcastic but affectionate comment. For Y/N, these family moments were her refuge. In a city so fast-paced and in a life that often felt just as chaotic, being with her mothers made her feel protected.

Suddenly, something changed. A fleeting shadow appeared among the crowd, a figure moving with unsettling determination. The girl walking a few meters ahead of them seemed almost normal, but Y/N was too absorbed in the conversation to notice the impending danger. Alex, always alert and with an intuition sharpened by years of experience, picked up on something strange about the behavior of the girl approaching Y/N.

Everything happened in an instant. Alex stopped abruptly, and her expression filled with worry when she noticed something glinting in the girl’s hand. It was a knife.

Without thinking twice, Alex instinctively moved, stepping in between the attacker and her daughter. “Y/N!” she shouted desperately, her voice cutting through the air just before the knife reached its target. The cold metal pierced Alex’s shoulder, causing her to stagger from the pain.

Y/N’s bloodcurdling scream mixed with the sound of the knife cutting through flesh. “Mom!” She ran towards Alex, her hands shaking as she tried to process what had just happened. Casey also reacted instantly, lunging at the attacker with a speed and strength Y/N had never seen in her before. Casey’s rage erupted as she managed to subdue the assailant, using her legal expertise to ensure the woman wouldn’t escape. Bystanders began calling the police as Y/N, tears streaming down her face, held Alex, who struggled to remain upright.

“I’m fine…” Alex murmured, though her face was pale from the pain. She tried to smile at Y/N, but the gesture was weak. Blood soaked through her shirt, and Y/N couldn’t stop trembling at the sight of her mother injured like this. Everything in her mind was chaos: fear, anger, and above all, helplessness.

“You’re not fine, Mom, you’re not,” Y/N whispered, trying to keep calm while pressing against Alex’s wound, attempting to staunch the bleeding.

Minutes that felt like hours followed as the chaos of sirens filled the air. The police arrived, taking control of the situation. The attacker was arrested, and Casey, still furious and distressed, shouted for answers. Yet, her attention never strayed far from Alex and Y/N. She was torn between the anger of nearly losing her daughter and the horror of seeing her wife injured.

“You could have died,” Casey said, her voice soft but firm. She sat next to Y/N, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“And I won’t,” Alex replied, looking at her with a reassuring smile. “I’m not going anywhere. But I don’t regret protecting our daughter.”

Y/N watched her mothers, the love and devotion they had for each other was unbreakable. She felt a lump in her throat at how deep that bond was, not just between them but also with herself.

It took several days before Alex could return home, and during that time, Y/N didn’t leave her side. She took turns with Casey caring for her mother, ensuring she didn’t exert herself unnecessarily. In those days, Y/N reflected a lot on what had happened. The danger had been real, and her life had nearly changed forever.

“You look thoughtful,” Alex commented one afternoon as Y/N helped her get comfortable on the couch.

“It’s just that… everything that happened made me think about how much you risked for me. I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. You’re my daughter. I would do anything for you.” Alex looked at her with tenderness, although her face reflected the exhaustion of recovery. “What you have to do is live your life to the fullest. That will be enough gratitude.”

Casey, who had been listening from the kitchen, approached and hugged both of them. “We’re a family, and that’s what we do. We protect and care for each other. What matters is that we’re together.”

Y/N nodded, but the tears continued to fall down her face. “But she stepped in…”

“I know,” Casey whispered softly, trying to calm her daughter. “But she will survive because she is strong. Stronger than you think.”

They waited in silence, sharing the pain and anxiety that hung in the air. Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about how different everything could have been if Alex hadn’t been there. The idea of losing her mother tore at her inside.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a doctor emerged and informed them that the surgery had been a success. Alex was stable, though she would need time to recover completely.

When Y/N entered her mother’s hospital room, she saw Alex lying in the bed with bandages wrapped around her shoulder. Despite the exhaustion in her eyes, Alex smiled as soon as they walked in.

“I knew you’d follow me here,” Alex joked weakly, trying to lighten the mood, although pain was still evident on her face.

“Mom…” Y/N couldn’t hold it back anymore. She threw herself into Alex’s arms gently, being careful not to hurt her shoulder. “You shouldn’t have done that. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

Alex sighed, and with softness, she stroked her daughter’s hair. “Y/N, I would never let you get hurt. No matter what I have to do to protect you.”

Casey, who was listening from a distance, came closer and placed her hand on Alex’s leg, sitting beside them. “You could have died,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“And you won’t,” Alex replied, looking at her with a reassuring smile. “I’m not going anywhere. But I don’t regret protecting our daughter.”

Y/N watched her mothers, the love and devotion they had for each other was unbreakable. She felt a lump in her throat at how deep that bond was, not just between them but also with herself.

As time passed, Alex fully recovered, and life returned to normal. Yet the Cabot-Novak family knew that nothing would ever be quite the same. What had happened that day on the street was a reminder of how fragile life can be, but also of how powerful the love that bound them together was.

Every time Y/N saw the scar on her mother’s shoulder, she remembered not only the pain but also the bravery and sacrifice.

#alex cabot #casey novak #y/n #reader #novak #cabot #casey #law & order

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charmwasjess · 9 months ago

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25 for Sifo, please 😁

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

Oh Ingata, you've unknowingly asked me to present my thesis on my favorite topic and I love you for it. (Okay, this could have been a two sentence answer, but it's me.) So I wrote you an essay on Sifo-Dyas, but I'm putting it below a cut to save everyone from my rambles on Sifo in the old EU and the greater meaning of his doom-ass storyline.

Apparently, I once casually mused to readalong back in the day (exactly how long ago? No need to worry about that!) that Sifo-Dyas must have been a pretty nice guy, what with him putting up with Dooku all those years. Oh sweet summer child. If only I knew then how long I would spend thinking about this idiot and their dynamic.

Back then, he was on my mind simply because of Dooku. In Luceno’s Labyrinth of Evil, Yoda takes some time to describe in length Dooku and Sifo-Dyas’s close friendship, “bound by the unifying Force,” and speculates what Sifo-Dyas knew about the lead-up to Dooku’s fall. That he was desperately worried about Dooku, that he thought Qui-Gon’s death was a breaking point for him, that Dooku might have been actively hunting down his killer's Master to fuck shit up, and this was about to be A Big Problem for Everyone.

All of this was very interesting, especially back then, when Dooku was not a popular character and depictions of him having meaningful, positive connections in the Jedi Order were few and far between. I want to be careful here, because I’m not calling the EU/Legends bad - Dark Rendezvous has some of the most beautiful Dooku character work I’ve ever read. But compare, say, Jude Watson’s Qui-Gon in Legends Legacy of the Jedi outright calling Dooku “too cold to love,” as a Master, versus examples from new canon, where Dooku repeatedly and effusively praises his Padawans, casts their relationship as mutually loving, and even offers to get drunk and cry it out over Rael’s dead Padawan. Those present really different pictures. So Sifo-Dyas stood out to me right off the bat as unusual for being close with Dooku: a meaningful connection for a character who, at that point, didn't have meaningful connections.

As for my impressions now, I think I have a soft spot in general for characters who seem to exist simply to die in a tragic, unescapable way, sacrificed to the narrative or for other character’s growth. In a way, Sifo-Dyas’s story is still certainly both of those.

But he’s so much more. He walks into Dooku: Jedi Lost as this vivid, funny, weird, fearless, chaotic good goofball of a character. Sith Dooku is breathlessly, affectionately describing him to Asajj Ventress (of all people) within the first few seconds of his own life story. That's crazy?! "I was born, I went to the Temple, oh, I MET THIS INCREDIBLE PERSON." Sifo-Dyas's first scene in the damn book is to make a silly little song about Dooku’s name and then telling him to "tell it to your face"?! And we’re not supposed to love him?!

I could go on. But here’s the heart of it for me with the character. The penultimate scene in Dooku: Jedi Lost, comes when he and Dooku are estranged, having been for years over what seems implied as a breakdown over an escalating series of visions that cast Dooku at the center of a world-shattering conflict. Yet, when Dooku comes to Sifo-Dyas for help, one last desperate get-the-gang-back-together, he won’t deny him. When Dooku suggests what Sifo-Dyas literally describes as “insane, the worst plan I’ve ever heard” (I’m quoting directly here), his answer is, again, directly quoting: “I’m in.” He never stopped saying that to Dooku. For all their ultimate ruin, it's sort of beautiful.

That’s the impression that stands out the most strongly - not tragic doom or narrative foil - but the aspects of bravery and loyalty to the character. Someone who would have spent his whole life having visions about someone ending the world, and still show up for that person, and later, still come to them with their own problems. It seems very, very likely - he outright says it during a vision in the cursed book – that he knows Dooku is the person who will make all the futures converge into the one terrible timeline. But EVEN THEN, Sifo-Dyas would rather bring hundreds of thousands of lives into existence than take out Dooku. And whether you read that as friendship or something more, at the end of the day, it’s love.

#Of course this is all based on my reading of the supplemental canon and others might have different readings #And I’m not arguing that the clones were a great idea either #But it’s like Sifo-Dyas got told you have to go back in time and kill Hilter but guess what Hilter is your best friend #and he’s like no I’ll do some batshit crazy third thing because I’m the embodiment of living chaos #sifo dyas #star wars meta #dooku jedi lost

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moreaugriffins · 7 months ago

Text

Imagine Peter getting a call in the middle of the night

him thinking it's probably Ray getting excited about a definitely haunted hairbrush, and letting it ring

eventually picking it up as it continues to ring for a few minutes, only to find out it's Egon's wife

She's stressed, and worried, and Peter isn't sure why she's ringing him

But Winston isn't picking up the phone, and she knows that Egon and Ray have been arguing a lot recently so...

But she's worried

Because Egon's not doing well. He hasn't been sleeping much, or taking care of himself much (which Peter had noticed every time they went on call together), he's been muttering weird stuff, and obsessed with his notes and books, and usually she can help stop him spiralling but he's been pulling away recently, and spending less time and home and-

"He hasn't come home yet"

Egon always comes home, they made an agreement years ago. He's never broken the agreement before

So she's worried

And Peter is too

He knew Egon wasn't doing well, but they were men in their 40s, Egon wasn't a child, he could look after himself, and it was not Peter's job to monitor him. If Egon was struggling, he could speak up. He knew he could come to his friends for help

Then his mind casts back to the time in uni when Egon tried to drill a hole in his own head, how it all started just like this: the sleepless nights and obsessive studies, and pulling away from everyone, even skipping his lectures.. Peter and Ray just about got there on time.. Though Peter joked about the incident now, he's still rattled by it

He's still pretty rattled by many of Egon's vaguely suicidal experiments

He says he'll go look for Egon (after all, she's got a toddler to keep an eye on)

Reassures her that he's fine, that it'll all be fine, he probably just hyperfocused on the proton packs or something, you know how he is

It doesn't reassure her much - he doesn't even believe his own words either, but what else can he say

After the call, he heads to the Firehouse, knowing that if Egon was anywhere, it would likely be in the lab. It was practically the scientist's second home

He storms up to the lab (the place felt eerily quiet. Janine doesn't work at night anymore, Winston has his own home, and Ray has his flat above his shop)

the light is on

that's something

He opens the door, expecting to see Egon in a chaotic state (or god forbid...), and to be fair, the room is an utter mess, with books open, numbers and scripture written on the whiteboard, a pile of empty Twinkies packets around the bin stuffed full of crumpled papers

and in the middle of this mess, is Egon, head in hands, book open in front of him. It's subtle, but he can see the rise and fall of his shoulders

at least he isn't dead (he ignores how worrying that thought is)

He goes over to Egon and whacks him over the top of his head - usually an affectionate gesture from Peter (the affection is slightly lost)

"Come on Spengs, you really leaving your wife at home?"

Egon looks up at him, brows furrowed, and a practised guarded expression, though his eyes gave away the deep exhaustion and paranoia the scientist must be feeling

If it were Winston, he'd know the exact thing to say to Egon, a talk on how his actions are making his (Egon's) wife feel, and to get his act together, with the reminder that everyone was here for him

If it were Ray, despite all the arguments the two had recently, Ray would comfort him, know the exact words to calm the man and ground him back in some sense of reality - those two understood each other on a level like no other

But it was Peter here, right now

And he's not good at emotional conversations or situations. A serious conversation makes him feel like he's going to break out in hives. It's easier to joke than deal with emotions. (that's why he and Egon got on well. Neither liked talking about how they feel)

So when Egon replies with ramblings about Gozer, clearly lost and not in his right mind, Peter makes a couple jokes, he deflects from Egon's worries and brings the man down to the kitchen to make a hot chocolate to calm Egon's mind (that's what they used to do, right?)

There's more talk, mostly from Peter, about some studies he's working on (that are mostly accurate), and how Dana and Oscar are doing, and the show because oh boy does he have a story about that one man who believed he could communicate with fish-

Egon is barely engaging, Peter could see, his mind is elsewhere, running at a million miles an hour, doing complex calculations and making connections. Peter didn't envy the man really - it must be difficult having a mind so clever and loud.

So when he can tell the talking isn't working, he asks "We defeated Gozer, remember? when my girlfriend was turned into a dog, and Stay Puft got the biggest commercial for free, and we crossed the streams. He's gone forever, right?"

Egon seems to come back to reality for a moment, and they stare at each other, before Egon nods slightly and finally takes a sip of his hot chocolate.

Peter eventually drives Egon home, selfishly because he wants to keep an eye on his friend for a little longer, but Egon doesn't utter a word. That's fine. The silence makes Peter's skin itch but it seems to be doing Egon some good.

They arrive at the house (the living room lights are still on), and Egon goes to leave the car, but Peter reaches over last minute, his mouth moving faster than his brain, "All you gotta do is ask, if you need help. We're still your mates, yeah? I don't know what goes on in that brain of yours but you aren't alone."

Egon seems to be mulling something over in his head, then pulls away from Peter's grip - "Goodnight Peter." - and heads inside.

Over the next few weeks, Peter keeps an eye on Egon

He seems to slowly get better

There are no more phone calls from Egon's wife (except one to talk about what happened that night), his eyebags seem to fade away, he talks less about Gozer, the notes disappear and the books are put neatly away or are packed up, and most importantly he seems to be arguing less with the group and making an effort to spend time with them

Then he's gone

and all the equipment and Echo 1 are gone too.

#rambles #silly goofy thoughts #ghostbusters #the ghostbusters #peter venkman #egon spengler #suicide mention #tw sui attempt #(to be safe? it's the drilling a hole in his head incident and the general idea of mad scientists experimenting on themselves)#this got away from me lmao #shitty writing and somehow longer than several fanfics ive written???#i vaguely remember hearing Ray's call with Pheobe in Afterlife #and Peter's mention of 'that one time you tried to drill a hole in your head' to Egon #and thought that even if the others didn't believe Egon about Gozer - would none be slightly concerned about his mental health?#(it was a stressful time - theyre in their 40s or 50s - theyre men.. emotional intelligence is not their forte... but shhh)#and it felt like Peter out of everyone could detach himself slightly from his frustrations towards Egon and notice the signs #idk if that makes sense

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latibvles · 8 months ago

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Gonna throw you a bit of an AU. 'Brown iodine stains on skin' for Daisy (yes, Daisy) and whatever flyboy you feel appropriate or interesting.

DAISY AND THE FLYBOYS? DAISY AND THE FLYBOYS. that would be an excellent band name but I digress. I was kind of giggling to myself writing this. wherever she goes she's going to have gray hairs over these soldier boys (affectionate)

—

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this.

It’s not a thought that he’ll express anywhere besides in his own mind, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s having that thought at all. Thirty men one day, twenty on another, did you see any chutes? How many? What bearing? What time? He knew what he signed up for, it’s not that he’s complaining about it. He just doesn’t know how to make sense of it. How people can be there and gone in a minute.

And he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it.

“You ought to get that looked at,” Dr. Stover cautions, eyeing a few of the cuts on Gale’s face. “After interrogation.”

“Major, here,” chimes the voice next to him, softer but a little more urgent — fingers wrap around his wrist and there’s a hand pressing a small rag unceremoniously into his hand. He winces at the sting of it against his palm. His eyes settle on her as she loosens her own grip, staring up at him with big dark eyes and equally dark furrowed brows. “Wouldn’t want to bleed on the maps.”

For a moment Gale can only stare at her, because if he’s being completely transparent — he still feels like part of him is up there and hasn’t come down quite yet. Hadn’t realized he’d even cut his hand until she’d drawn attention to it, so he just stares at her lips pressed into a line, her warm brown hair tucked neatly into her nightingale cap, her face fresh as a—

“Daisy, why don’t you head over to the hospital. That landing strip looked pretty busy.” Her gaze snaps back to Stover, and she nods with a quick ‘yes, sir’, scurrying off before Gale can so much as choke out a thanks for the rag he was now holding to his own palm.

The interrogation is as chaotic as ever as they try to go over everything they’d just witnessed. It should’ve been easy, considering it’d just happened moments ago. But sitting in the chair, pressing a rag to his wrist, weighing in when needed — Gale can feel the weight settling in his bones, his shoulders. He’s slow to stand when they’re dismissed, letting the other guys filter out before him, partly because he knows how eager they are to leave and partly because it’s all he can really muster as he blinks back into some semblance of consciousness that isn’t so tethered to basic instincts.

He assumes that’s why, when he’s finally made his way over, the hospital isn’t as chaotic. Those who needed beds are in beds, with a nurse or a crewmate by their side, and Gale stands in the doorway watching for a long, silent second. A nurse with honey-blonde hair smiles at him, something bright and welcoming.

“Major Cleven! Take a seat right over there. We’ll get’cha situated in a minute,” she gestures to one of the chairs posed between empty beds, and Gale makes a point to return the smile as he moves to sit where she’d instructed. It’s in this buzzing quiet, only accented by the occasional murmurings of the few men in the room, that he lets out a long, heavy breath. No way in hell he’ll ever get used to this.

He sees the brown iodine stains on her hands before noticing the metal tray of instruments in her hands: bandages, cotton, scissors, thread, antiseptic. And then the crisp whiteness of her uniform, in spite of that.

“I didn’t think you’d show,” Gale lifts his gaze again. The nurse from before, Daisy, is smiling this time, and he notes the dimple in her cheek. He waves the now stained rag in his free hand.

“Figured you’d want this back.” He offers as she sits down on the edge of the bed, taking it from him with a click of her tongue.

“Ah, yes, my lucky hanky,” she hums, fingers brushing against his cheek as she turns his head. She wets the rag with the antiseptic and starts on his face. Gale doesn’t flinch on the sting.

“What makes it lucky?”

“Usually if I give it away there tends to be a pilot attached to it when it comes back,” She looks at him then, but only for a moment before shifting her attention back to his cuts. “And they’re usually the ones who would otherwise need to be dragged here kicking and screaming. So I’m, uh, fairly lucky to avoid that fuss.” Daisy’s quick with his face, leaning away and looking over him before nodding to herself. “Just let me…” she takes his arm again, bringing his palm to her.

“Lucky I don’t kick or scream then, huh?”

“Oh definitely, there must be extra magic in it today,” She doesn’t even look up as she says it, doesn’t miss a beat as her fingers smooth over the skin of his palm. They’re rough, which he wasn’t expecting and hadn’t noticed before, but they’re steady, too. “Lucky for you this won’t need stitches. How’d it happen?”

Gale leans back in the chair, eyes the gash and furrows his brows. He can’t for the life of him remember how that happened. There’d been a lot happening, all things considered. Their whole fort was practically a jagged mess of sharp edges. She’s looking at him now and while she isn’t smiling her face is just… soft, he wants to go as far as to say it’s probably a little knowing — if the roughness of her hands and her good-luck-hanky are any clues.

“Okay, how about this — got your shots?” That, he can answer, so he does.

“Yes ma’am.” She snorts at that, shaking her head a little.

“Don’t call me ma’am,” Back in with the cotton, cleaning the cut, which stings a little more. “Lucky you, then. You’ve avoided the big needle.”

“What, is it that bad?” He asks, and he can’t help the smile making its way onto his face.

“If you’re scared of needles then, yes. Are you scared of needles Major…”

“Cleven,” He finishes as she reaches for the roll of bandages. “No, can’t say that I am, Nurse…”

“Clarke,” Her turn to finish, as she wraps his hand round-and-round. Daisy Clarke, then. “Then maybe you would’ve been fine either way,” she assents as she reaches for scissors to cut the bandages.

Gale curls his hand into a fist, then unfurls it, letting his hand breathe once she finishes, and Daisy watches him for a moment before rising to her feet.

“Try to hold off on any fist-fights and if you bleed through those feel free to stop by to have them changed out, okay?” she dusts off her hands, even though the brown stain still clings to them. Gale nods.

“Yes ma’am,” he parrots. The look she gives him is narrow-eyed, but there’s a smile on her face as she stares, taking the tray with her as she walks off again.

Gale thinks, for the briefest moment, that he might be feeling a little lighter.

#poet’s mail box #ch: daisy clarke #gale buck cleven #masters of the air fic #mota fic

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