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livelaughlovesubs · 4 months ago

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Sigma and Fyodor with the prompts: fitting them with a collar and dressing them up in degrading outfits plsss. I need my subby Sigma. :3

Your thirsts shall be satisfied! Two subby men right away :]

Dom!gn!reader x sub!Sigma/ Fyodor (separate)

Warning: collaring, teasing, feminisation, hierophilia, cross dressing, established relationship(s)

Anniversary event

Sigma

He doesn’t even know why he agreed, he must have been out of his mind. He knew it was bad news when you came up to him, smiling all giddily, unable to hide your intentions while asking him so sweetly, “you’d do it for me, right? Plea~ase?”

And his intuition wasn’t wrong. Poor boy could barely contain himself when he saw what you had in store for him, and it took ages to actually convince him. Deep down, he cursed himself for being a push over when it came to you, but what was he supposed to do?

That’s how you got him to wear a super cute and revealing bunny boy costume, a typical one, except that it had some purple elements. Some of the ribbons were in a cute lavender colour. With it came a pair of bunny ears and plug tail, as well as some basic stockings. He didn’t dare to wear the tail by himself, since he was too embarrassed, and frankly, he didn’t manage to do it himself.

When he walked out of the room, to showcase just how amazing these clothes complimented his body, his face was already a bright red hue. Arms crossed in front of his chest, gaze lowered to the ground and knees threatening to give up underneath him. You gulped, astonished by how beautiful and sexy he looked, then you clapped as you complimented him, “it looks great! Really, really good!”

“Shut up..” Sigma replied all feisty, clenching his eyes shut as he shuddered. He wasn’t cold, it was because his heart was pounding really fast, pumping blood to his cheeks and lower part. It was too much for him to handle. “Aww, how mean of you~ I thought you wanted to be a good bunny?” You cooed at him, standing up and walking towards him with your hands behind your back, probably holding something, hiding it from his field of vision.

The male leaned back when he felt you were too close, eyes staring holes at the thing you were hiding, putting his hands up in front of his face, “h-hey, don’t tell me you have something lewd in mind.” You faked a surprised expression, gasping all dramatic, “something lewd? I’d never, what do you think of me?” But the smirk you had on your face told him otherwise, you really had to work on your mimics.

“It’s nothing bad, don’t worry.” You explained, then quickly wrapped your arms around his neck, whispering a small, “promise ♡” He stared right into your eyes, sweating a little, body heating up at the closeness and intimate nature of the moment. That’s when he felt something being wrapped around his neck, and it tightened, choking him for a split second.

That fraction of a second was enough to make him jump and gag, yelping and whining, “argHH..! What- what are you doing?!” The suffocating feeling was soon gone, though now replaced with a slight itch of something wrapping around his neck. “Ahhh, sorry for not alarming you. It looks so pretty though!” You apologised halfhearted, pressing your hands together as you did.

He frowned, still blushing. To be honest he had an index what it was, though just to be sure, he reached for the item with his hand and brushed over it. As expected, it was a collar. “…why are you being so sneaky with putting it on me, you gave me a heart attack.” Sigma complained, looking away in shame. He was getting really flustered and aroused due to all the set up he wore, the blush even crept up to his ears now.

“I wanted to see your surprised expression.” You answered in a heart beat, now wrapping your arms around his waist. “It was so worth it.” The boy glared at you, pouting slightly. Then he felt you grope his butt, and he shrieked, squirming in your grasp, shoulders jerked upwards and he mumbled, “w-what now?!”

“Where’s your tail, little bun’?” You asked, not stopping yourself. He grasped your shoulder and pushed you away weakly, his voice was meek as he replied, “obviously not there..” Suddenly you chuckled, that caught him off guard. Which is why he stopped avoiding your gaze and glanced at you, immediately regretting that action because god he could feel his legs going weak because of that look on your face. It was as if you wanted to devour him.

With a low voice, you teased your little pet bunny, asking all provocative, “let me help you grow a tail then?” And gone was his last ounce of dignity or resistance. He didn’t even put up a fight as he fell into your arms, twitching all over while whispering his answer, “p-please do..”

Fyodor

“Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. 1, Peter 4:8.” His beautiful voice, as graceful as ever, whispered softly while he scanned over multiple pages from the bible. He wanted to read you some of his favourite verses, lifting the corners of his lips slightly, eyes focused and sparkling. This was one of his hobbies, he liked how calming it was.

Most of the time, you weren’t even listening properly, instead you liked seeing that eager glim in his pupils. Sometimes he’d catch you staring, well, he knows you are, but he doesn’t mind. Still, you’d occasionally ask some questions, to keep him entertained, “what does that mean?” Fyodor closed his eyes, still smiling at you, then replied, “there is no definite answer, though if you ask me… I’d say sins committed in the name of deep love can be justified.”

You stayed quiet, thinking about his statement. Somehow that clicked in your head, and you asked to make sure, “Is that why you don’t hesitate when doing stuff with me?” He didn’t responded, only continuing to grin like nothing happened before leaning closer to you and giving you a peck on the lips. A sense of warmth and comfort swallowed your pounding heart, and you chuckled, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

When you glanced at him again, you couldn’t help but think of how beautiful he was. That thought kept plaguing you, making you want to see him in a prettier outfit. “Hey, I think that’s enough for today,” you eventually declared, playing with his hair as you waiting for him to finish the page. “Hm? Alright then. I take it you have something else in mind?” Fyodor closed his bible, placing it onto the table next to him, looking at you expectantly.

“Yea, I actually do.” You told him while you grabbed his hand, guiding him to the closet and picking out some clothes for him to wear. “Ah…” he made a small sound of acknowledgment when he saw what you choose for him, then nodded and said, “i see what you want to do, well, I guess I don’t mind trying.” Despite how calm and collected he sounded, the small blush that crept up his cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by you. Hence, you teased, “by the looks of it you are pretty excited as well.”

There goes his carefully crafted facade, he let a sharp sneer slip pass, then rushed you to get out. You had no choice but to wait until he was done. On your way out of the bedroom, you quickly opened one of the drawers, taking something with you. You hummed to yourself the entire time, anticipation building inside you. After about 10 minutes of leaning against the wall outside of the room, you heard the much awaited click of the door. Without wasting a single best, you barged back in.

“And? Does it fit? Lemme see-” annnd the waiting was worth it. You felt a tingle in your stomach when you laid your eyes on him, on his almost completely nude body. He was only wearing a set of black nun lingerie, with an equally dark cloth thrown over his head. The way he stood there was awkward, as if he wasn’t completely comfortable wearing these clothes. His eyes soon found yours, and his gentle smile returned.

“What do you think?” Fyodor teased, bending over slightly to make himself smaller, looking up at you, doing his signature expression. The bra and panties fit him perfectly, it emphasised his figure very well. Though it also reminded you of how awfully skinny and sickly he actually was, and you couldn’t hold yourself back from pulling him into a tight embrace. Wrapping both arms around his waist, pushing your body against his while mumbling sweet nothings into his ear.

One praise after another fell from your lips, grazing and tickling his skin like a tender breeze. “You look like an angel.” You said, even though his outfit was probably way too suggestive to be anything close to an angel. Nevertheless it didn’t change the fact that you thought he was heavenly. “Really, so gorgeous.” His blush darkened by a few shades, then he pushed you away playfully, whispering, “that’s enough. Can I change back now?” In contrary to what he expected, you shook your head, telling him, “there’s still one more thing.”

Before he got the chance to guess what you meant, you pulled out a collar that matched his eye colour. “This, I want to see you wear it.” You told him, so very straightforward, already getting to work and wrapping it around his neck. “Can I?” After you were almost done, you finally decided to ask him. He reacted pretty slow, eyes widened while he let you do what you wanted. And when you asked for his opinion, he hesitated for a bit, though in the end, he nodded meekly.

With a swift move, you adorned his neck with a personal collar, adding the final touch to his outfit. “It’s perfect.” You gasped astonished, reaching out to the collar and sticking one finger in, pulling slightly, “does it hurt?” The boy shook his head even if he gaged a little. Because of the pull he was now dangerously close to you, basically as close as earlier.

Without missing the chance, you spun him around and pushed him onto the bed, smiling as you chirped, “now, let’s see how deep our love is.”

There he was, all hot and bothered, almost laid bare, on his back, waiting for you like a five course meal you couldn’t resist. He smirked widely, giving you a cheeky answer, “I’m sure it’s deep enough to excuse whatever you’re going to do to me.”

Bonus!

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the-s1lly-corner · 9 months ago

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Hey can I request a Jason voorhees x reader oneshot? Jason's jacket is obviously a mess so what if when he is gone the reader suprises him by sewing it up for him and even stitches on "Jason Voorhees ♡"on the breast pocket?

Reader fixing Jason's jacket

I don't currently take one shots currently but I adore this prompt so I'll still hit it with the headcanon treatment :3

Notes: Reader is GN

CWs: Mentions of canon typical violence

It's no secret that the mans wardrobe is a little.. hmm.. well not in the best condition, not to mention that finding clothing that fits him is hard when you guys live in the woods..

But out of all the articles of clothing he owns, his jacket is in the worst condition

Slashes, holes, and a few blood stains that couldnt quite get washed out- not that the man cares all that much.. hes rather desensitized to blood

Unless it's your blood but that's a whole other thing!

Getting back on track, his jacket is ruined beyond repair... or at least that was the notion Jason has subscribed to. He was about to head out and tend to his responsibilities around the camp to prepare for the inevitable rush of kids swarming the place for their summer vacation, when he realized he couldn't find it

Not that he *needed* it... so he heads out to do his thing, letting you know when you expect him to come home

This gives you some alone time to work on your little project that you've been working on for the past day or two, sneaking around your boyfriend so the surprise wouldn't be ruined

It was... a monumental task... you originally thought you'd just have to stitch the tears but you quickly realized that you'd have to get creative when fixing the large holes, so it could still.. fit as it should without stressing the thread..

But it ended up being worth it!

Jason looooves receiving gifts from you, but he has a habit of.. not using them- not because he doesnt appreciate them, but because he doesnt want to ruin or lose the gift in question

When he unfolds the jacket he remains still and quiet for a moment

Though is the quietness anything new?

He tries it on when you ask him to, and it fits like a glove!

He loves it, he makes sure to sign his appreciation to you.. except theres one problem

You know how I mentioned he tends to let gifts sit unused? He... doesnt want your hard work to go to waste...

You can offer to fix it if anything happens, and while he is grateful for the sentiment the guilt would still eat at him

The jacket becomes more of an around the house piece of clothing, something he wears casually when hes not expecting someone needing to be removed

Hes going to make something for you in return, or perhaps search for something. You take such good care of him and he wants you to be cared for as well

#jason vorhees x reader #jason vorhees imagine #jason voorhees x reader #jason x reader #jason voorhees imagine #slasher imagine #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #slashers x you #slashers x reader

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remedyturtles · 13 days ago

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38 with rise Leo if you're up for it! (Also hi hi I hope you're doing well!)

hey buddy!!!! thanks @fuckedupcleric so much for the prompt! i hope you know that i love you muwah.

wordcount 1.3k, huge tw for self harm, cutting, and hallucinations

38. "Please stop hurting me. Please. Please stop."

Sometimes Leo wondered why he was given a blade.

The rest of his brothers had rather blunt objects, not including the rather dangerous end to Mikey's kusari-fundo. But Leo carried with himself, every minute of the day, not one but two sharp katanas. He didn't think much of it when they were younger.

But he sure was thinking a lot about it now.

Not like. On purpose. His brain was just a god damn mess after… well. Everything. All his failures lined up in a neat little row. The invasion. All the things that seemed to quite cleanly show everyone he cared about exactly what Hamato Leonardo was made of.

It wasn't a pretty show. No encore.

The swords were always at his side. The glint of the blade in sunlight and the cold lick of metal at night. He'd begun to trace the sharp length with the pads of his fingers, feeling the crisp edge. Idly, without much thought, almost meditative. Not even with enough pressure to prick his fingers.

The promise was enough, just to feel, like stroking the teeth of a beast. There was a bite underneath, if provoked. There was potential. Locked jaw, latched into place, never letting go.

Leo wasn't going to do anything. That would be stupid. He was supposed to be trying to be better, not worse. His weapons were the manifestation of his love for his family. How fucked up would it be to hurt himself with that?

… how fitting ...

Not that Leo was going to do that. He was merely curious the amount of weight and pressure required to truly injure someone with his weapon. It was an important thing to know, since he was carrying the things around all the time.

When it was six AM in the morning and he hadn't slept a wink, laying awake and pressing his fingertips on the blade over and over and over and over, just to listen to the promise, just to feel the sing of metal through the small bones of his hand – somewhere in the lack of sleep and the late-turned-early haze, it seemed like a good idea. He pressed that sharp edge braced between both hands against the usually hidden top of his thigh, and pushed.

Not hard. It made a very thin line. A phantom sting, the appetizer of pain, not even enough to register beyond paper-cut levels. The perfect line looked… well. Like it had been there all along, and Leo was just revealing where it was supposed to be.

The second attempt was no longer curiosity. He couldn't pretend, when the angle and the pressure spoke of only one thing. Leo wanted to make it hurt.

And it hurt. It bled. He swore, a headrush of sudden understanding, that pain existed right under his skin, he just had to dig it out.

Leo dug it out. He dug it out. He dug it out.

Maybe there was penance, in the blood seeping from his skin, if he could bleed away sins and replenish into something new. Maybe there was a pledge, in each attempt, like this time it might fix something about him that everyone knew was broken. Maybe there was punishment, because it hurt.

There was a rush, each time, a chasing feeling. But it did not negate the pain, or the momentary fear replaced by hope, terrible hope. Maybe this time it was too much. How awful and wonderful that would be?

Leo hated the swords, almost rusting with how often he had to run alcohol wipes along the surface to clean them. How impractical they were, when he ran out of surface area to reach without being caught on his legs and had to switch to his arms underneath his wrist guards. Trying to balance the long edge of a sword one-handed and give enough pressure to hurt like it was really meant to was such an incredibly hassle. But it was all part of the lie Leo was telling himself, that this sword, the proof of his connection to his family, had always been a blade because it was meant to hurt himself. To carve him into something better. If only he pushed hard enough.

Which led to here. Hiding in the bathroom on the floor, trying to find a way to balance his sword for three minutes of release before he returned to the world where he was a fuck-up and a failure, where Raph's eye and Donnie's shell and Mikey's hands were far, far worse off than a few little cuts. Penance. Pledge. Punishment. He breathed shakily, anticipating and anxious for it. Hating that it had turned to carving, like he should be allowed to want. But unable to stop. Perfectly sharp blade humming, the manifestation of his family's love. How apt, how real, how true. Leo set his wrist against the braved edge and prepared to draw across the surface like the graceful bow of a violin.

"What are you doing?" A soft voice said.

Leo stopped. No, delayed. He flicked his eyes up, body taunt, and saw…

Little legs swinging back and forth. A curious young face leaning over to see better, eyes round underneath red stripes too big for his face. Cheeks still with baby fat, fingers gripping the counter he was sitting on. Hamato Leonardo, or at least, a memory of what he used to be. A child.

"Go away." Leo told the hallucination, and turned his back. He pulled the blade and the pain sung so loud.

The child gasped. "Ow!"

Blood. Leo flexed his fingers to activate the muscles in his arm. A dizzy feeling prickled hot waves from the top of his head downwards. Momentary perfection. Then reality soaked back in, and he readied the blade again.

"No! Hey!" The young Leo hopped down from the counter and inserted himself in front of his senior, visage hazy but upset. "Stop that!"

Leo grit his teeth. His hand shook. He said, more pointed, "Leave."

"No!" Little Leo stomped his foot, bottom lip wobbling. "I won't! You have to stop! Why are you doing this?"

Leo laughed, cold. The answer to that question would hurt more than what he was about to do. So he sliced again, slow and purposeful.

And Little Leo … wailed. Put tiny hands over his face and sobbed. "That hurts! It hurts!"

Blinking rapidly, Leo watched the new blood appear. Almost dripped on the bathmat before he dabbed with paper towel. There was a burning behind his eyes. Faraway emotions, looking in through a foggy window, pointing out strangers in a crowd.

His skin prickled. Lightheaded. Heart picking up the pace, tripping over itself, sta-sta-stammering. Almost dazed, desperate for another moment of clarity and release, to chase and chase and chase, dog after its own tail, the blade of love and torment against his skin, and –

"No!" Little Leo scrambled closer, face twisted with ugly tears, pleading, "Please stop hurting me. Please. Please stop."

Leo's hand shook. His breath caught.

"It hurts." The child told him, hiccuping on uncontrollable sobs. "Please, it hurts. Stop. I don't want to hurt anymore. Please."

His grip trembled. The blood welled and the crisp edge promised its pretty lies.

"Please stop hurting me." Little Leo whispered. Young and sweet and innocent and right here. Right here. Never went anywhere.

The katana was set down with care. Leo drew his bleeding arm to his chest and heaved for air. He grabbed his supplies but wrapped them with far more care than he ever had before. Shushing quietly between gasps for air, promising, "It's okay. It's okay. You're okay. You're okay."

The small space was quiet. The bathmat spotted with flecks of blood. Leo clutched his arm and rocked back and forth, soothing. Self-soothing. He hummed a lullaby, and shut his eyes, waiting for the after-image to fade.

#rem askbox #ask game #rem fic #hope you like it :D

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spacedace · 1 year ago

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Oh hey here’s the lil prolog thing I wrote for my DP x DC Leverage AU. I’m gonna actually write more of one day I swear but for now have this opening bit and feel free to use it as a prompt if you want :D

The station went utterly quiet as they brought her in.

Room after room going as silent as the grave when the young woman in handcuffs stepped through the door. Chatter stopped. Bodies stilled. Heads turned. Eyes widened. It almost felt like everyone was too afraid to even breath as she walked by. Cops and crooks alike watching with fear and awe in equal measures as Jim Gordon led her past them to the interrogation room.

She didn’t give the gaping crowd any mind. Head tilted up at an angle, shoulders back, steps sure. The solid heals of her boots clicked upon the scuffed linoleum, echoing loud in the stifling quiet. Like a royal herald announcing her presence. She held herself like a queen, which was fitting Jim supposed. Until tonight, the only name anyone had to call her by was Queen.

The blood, unnervingly, only made her seem more regal.

Batman was already in the interrogation room when they arrived. Jim didn’t even have it in him to sigh at the broody bat looming in the corner. He knew he’d be there. There was no way he would miss the interrogation of someone they’d been chasing for so long. Especially not now considering…well.

Considering.

Jim largely ignored the vigilante in the corner as he moved through the familiar process of getting the young woman handcuffed in place to the table, starting the recording and rattling off the relevant details: date, time, the - many - charges the young woman had been arrested for. If he faltered over the victim’s name of the young woman’s most recent crime no one commented on it. In the corner, Batman watched and lurked. Nearly lost in the shadowy corner of the room while still being impossible to ignore.

They’d done this before. Good cop, bad vigilante. It was usually effective in getting the truth out of stubborn criminals.

Jim rather doubted it would work in this case.

“Please state your name for the record.” He said, only to be met with the same cool silence Queen had given everyone since her arrest. She shifted in her seat, not a nervous fidget but an easy, languid movement. Even the uncomfortable metal chair seemed like a throne when she was involved. Jim bit back a sigh. “We have your information. I’m asking as a courtesy.”

Queen tilted her head faintly, looking at him with something almost like amusement, one brow twitching slightly upward. “You’ll have to forgive my disbelief, Commissioner Gordon.” She said, polite as ever. “But I’m rather sure that you won’t find me in any system you run my fingerprints or face through.”

She was right about that. They’d tried a hundred times over the past few years she and her team had been operating in Gotham. Her face never appeared in any pictures or recordings - not even in her mugshot during processing, all that was visible was her red hair and a mess of corrupted visual data where her face should be. The most her fingerprints had ever led to where the other crimes they already knew she’d taken part in. Batman had done everything to try and circumvent whatever meta ability kept her from being recorded on film, had done even more to try and find her and her people in every system he and the Justice League had access to. Nothing. Jim had grumbled a few times about how Queen and her crew might as well be ghosts for all the proof that they existed officially.

Turned out, ghosts was exactly right.

“The Ghost Investigation Ward reached out to us two hours ago.” He said, leaning back in his own seat, watching her carefully. “I’ll repeat, Ms. Fenton, my asking is a courtesy.”

For the first time in the years he’d known her, Queen - real name Jasmine “Jazz” Fenton - looked scared. Beyond scared, even. Completely, and utterly terrified.

Her body went rigid, eyes growing wide, breath picking up as she sat up sharply. Any semblance of that calm, collected presence she always held even when she was at her most cornered and vulnerable vanished in an instant. He’d seen her breath in a cloud of Scarecrow’s Fear Toxin and laugh. Watched as Bane wrapped large hands around her throat and tilt her chin up to stare down at her attacker imperiously. A mobster pressed the barrel of a gun to her head and she’d smiled, coy and confidant and untouchable. Queen always, always was calm. Aggravatingly so, even. Utterly unshakable as she waltzed into every wild and insane situation carrying the undeniable air of one who was complete control of everything happening.

She hadn’t even looked scared when the Joker had held her hostage.

And now? Now all it had taken was those three words. Ghost Investigation Ward. A nonsense name for a government agency with a ridiculous purpose. And yet there the unshakable Queen sat, looking terrified out of her mind at the mere mention of them.

Not for the first time since he received that call, Jim Gordon felt uneasy.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc writing prompt #jazz fenton #jim gordon #bruce wayne #leverage au #Jazz is the mastermind in this one #and has been having a great time up til this moment #everyone on the team has code names #Danny is Spaceman because of course it is lol #Sam is Nightshade #Tucker is Pharaoh #Ellie is Nomad #they're not actually shown here but I just wanted to share the codenames I came up for them lol

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chiyuuchu · 6 months ago

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A twisted heart <3 (30th July 2024)

Shoto Todoroki x Reader

Prompt! The mutuel pining between an aloof boy and a slightly psychotic girl.

The first week at U.A. was a whirlwind of introductions, training exercises, and getting to know new classmates. As Class 1-A settled into their new routine, one student in particular quickly captured everyone’s attention: Y/N. Her unsettling presence and uneasy vibe was not unknown to everyone.

Y/N, on the other hand, had a quirk that often made people wary of her: Crimson Bind. This quirk allowed her to create blood-red chains that could bind her target’s emotions and willpower, inducing feelings of love and devotion towards her. The chains could also cause pain if the target tried to resist. It was a power that could easily be abused, but Y/N had always been careful, using it only when absolutely necessary.

Due to the sort of quirk she had, Y/N had a strange, psycho-yandere personality. She was fiercely protective of those she cared about.

The morning sun filtered through the windows of Class 1-A as Y/N stood at the front of the room, preparing to introduce herself. Her smile was bright and welcoming, but the red chains that coiled around her fingers as she demonstrated her quirk left a few students feeling uneasy.

“Hi, everyone! I’m Y/N. My quirk is Crimson Bind,” she said cheerfully. “It lets me create these red chains to control emotions and even give commands.” And there plastered her signature creepy smile.

It wasn’t until after the first day of showcasing quirks in class, a few students exchanged glances. Kirishima leaned towards Bakugou, whispering loudly enough for others to hear, “Dude, did you see those chains? That’s some intense power.”

Bakugou scoffed, eyes narrowing. “Yeah, whatever. As long as she doesn’t use it on me.”

Mina, ever the enthusiast, clapped her hands together. “Wow, that’s so cool! So, you can literally control how people feel?”

Y/N nodded, still smiling. “Yep! But don’t worry, I only use it for training and practice. I promise I won’t go around binding anyone's emotions without permission.”

During lunch, Y/N oddly sat at an empty table, her cheerful demeanor in contrast with the slightly anxious looks from her classmates.

She was eating and sitting alone.. with a creepy smile on her face.

Across the lunch room, a few of her fellow classmates sat afar.

“So, did anyone else think that was kinda… creepy?” Jirou asked, taking a bite of her sandwich.

Uraraka shrugged, looking thoughtful. “I mean, it’s definitely powerful, but she seems like a nice person. Maybe she’s just trying to get used to being around us.”

Deku, who had been unusually quiet, looked up from his meal. “I think she’s really nice. I mean, she was so friendly and open about her quirk.”

Mina, still excited, said, “Yeah, and did you see how she was trying to explain everything? She’s got a really great attitude.”

Kirishima grinned. “True! I’m sure she’ll fit in just fine. And who knows, her quirk might actually come in handy during our training.”

As the day went on, Y/N’s quirk became a hot topic of discussion among her new classmates. They gathered around, trying to make sense of the unusual abilities and the energetic personality of their peer.

“So, did you see her using those chains to move the book? It was like she was playing a game with it,” Midoriya said, his eyes wide with curiosity.

“Yeah, I saw that!” Uraraka replied. “She’s really good at making it seem playful. I guess that’s her way of making everyone feel more comfortable.”

“I think it’s impressive how she can control such a powerful quirk with such ease. And her attitude makes her seem less intimidating.” Iida claimed.

Kaminari leaned back in his chair, chuckling. “Well, she seems pretty cool to me. I think she’ll add a lot of fun to our class. And hey, at least she doesn’t seem like she’ll use her quirk on us just for fun.”

Mina grinned. “Yeah, as long as she’s friendly and doesn’t start binding us all up, I think we’ll get along just fine.”

As Y/N wandered around the school grounds, she felt the weight of her new classmates’ eyes on her, but she maintained her playful attitude. She continued to interact with her peers, trying to bridge the gap between her unusual personality and her genuine desire to connect with them.

When Y/N finally stopped to chat with Todoroki, she noticed the calm way he looked at her, which was different from the more nervous reactions she had received earlier. Todoroki’s presence was soothing, and she found herself gravitating towards him despite his quiet demeanor.

It was during a group training exercise that Y/N’s feelings for Todoroki began to surface. They were paired together, and Y/N couldn’t help but be drawn to his composed and determined nature. She admired how he handled each challenge with such grace and precision.

Throughout the exercise, Y/N found herself trying to get closer to Todoroki, offering him encouragement and making efforts to interact with him. Her playful remarks and genuine compliments seemed to have a subtle effect on him, and though Todoroki remained largely unruffled, he appeared to appreciate her attention.

As the months passed, Y/N’s attempts to engage with Todoroki became more frequent. Her affection was expressed through her actions, like finding reasons to work alongside him or cheer him on. Her classmates began to notice the growing dynamic between them, and though Todoroki remained unaware of the full extent of her feelings, the subtle signs of affection were becoming increasingly evident.

Class 1-A was bustling with its usual energy. Todoroki Shoto sat quietly at his desk, his eyes occasionally flickering towards Y/N, who was engaged in an animated conversation with Mina and Ochaco. Todoroki had always been intrigued by Y/N. There was something captivating about her, something that drew him in despite his attempts to remain distant.

Their interactions grew more frequent and peculiar. Y/N's obsessive behavior was hard to miss, but Todoroki seemed to remain oblivious to the more unsettling aspects of it. Instead, he appeared to appreciate the attention, finding her quirks oddly endearing.

In the cafeteria, Y/N would often bring Todoroki his favorite snacks, always managing to know exactly what he craved.

"I swear, she has some sixth sense when it comes to Shoto's preferences," Kirishima remarked one day, watching Y/N place a perfectly crafted bento box in front of Todoroki.

Mina giggled. "It's kind of cute, though, isn't it? Like some weird, twisted romance."

"Yeah, if you ignore the whole psycho personality thing," Kaminari added with a shiver. "But Todoroki doesn't seem to mind."

"Maybe he likes it," Kirishima suggested. "Everyone has their preferences."

“Yeah! We don’t judge other people’s ideal types!” Mina cheered.

The following afternoon during training, Y/N's protectiveness became glaringly obvious. A sparring match between Todoroki and Bakugou was getting intense. Bakugou’s aggressive style was starting to wear Todoroki down, and Y/N, watching from the sidelines, grew visibly anxious.

"Oi, Icy-Hot! You better step up, or I'm gonna blow you to pieces!" Bakugou yelled.

Just as Bakugou launched a massive explosion towards Todoroki, Y/N’s voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding. “Stop.”

The red chains of Crimson Bind shot from her hand, wrapping around Bakugou and halting his movement instantly. He stood frozen, a mix of shock and fury in his eyes.

“Damn, crazy women! You could’ve just let us finish,” Bakugou growled, but he couldn't move.

Y/N's eyes softened as she looked at Todoroki. "You okay, Shoto?" she asked, her voice reverting to its usual softness.

Todoroki nodded. "I'm fine. Thank you, Y/N." He said calmly and out of breath as it was obvious he was about to give out.

As she released Bakugou, allowing him to move again, the rest of the class exchanged looks, clearly seeing the depth of her feelings for Todoroki.

Despite Y/N's intense behavior, Todoroki seemed to be growing fond of her in his own way. He started noticing small things, like how she always knew what he needed or how she was always there to support him during training. He found himself looking forward to their interactions, even if he didn’t fully understand her feelings.

One day in the common room, the class was gathered around, talking about their day. Y/N was sitting next to Todoroki, her usual place, when Mina brought up the subject.

“So, Y/N, you always seem to know what Todoroki likes. How do you do it?” Mina asked with a playful grin.

Y/N just smiled widely, with her usual unsettling expression. “I have my ways.” Everyone had already grew used to their eerie peer.

Kirishima laughed. “You guys are like an old married couple. It’s kinda sweet.”

Todoroki felt his cheeks heat up at the comment. “We’re not—” he started, but was cut off by Y/N’s hand on his arm.

“It’s okay, Shoto. They’re just teasing,” she said softly, her touch sending a strange thrill through him.

The peculiar dynamic between Y/N and Todoroki became a favorite topic of discussion among the class. They found it both fascinating and entertaining, especially when Y/N's more obsessive tendencies came to light.

During a strategy meeting for an upcoming mission, Midoriya couldn’t help but bring it up. “Has anyone else noticed how... protective Y/N is of Todoroki?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Mina chimed in. “It’s like she’s his personal bodyguard. But it’s kinda adorable in a weird way.”

“Yeah, but she’s also kinda scary,” Kaminari added. “I mean, did you see how she stopped Bakugou that one day? She didn’t even hesitate.”

“But Todoroki doesn’t seem to mind,” Uraraka pointed out. “Maybe he likes having someone who cares that much about him.”

“Maybe he’s just oblivious,” Jirou said with a shrug. “He’s not exactly the most emotionally aware person.”

Todoroki, who had been quietly listening to the conversation, felt a strange mix of emotions. He appreciated Y/N's attention and care, but he also felt a bit overwhelmed by her intensity. Yet, he couldn’t deny the warmth he felt whenever she was near.

The real test of Y/N's feelings came during a high-stakes mission. The class was sent to apprehend a group of villains causing havoc in a nearby city. As they split into teams, Todoroki found himself paired with Y/N.

“Stay close,” Y/N instructed, her eyes scanning the area for any threats.

Todoroki nodded, feeling a sense of security with her by his side. As the battle ensued, Y/N’s chains came into play, binding enemies and protecting her classmates. But it was her unwavering focus on Todoroki’s safety that stood out the most.

At one point, a villain managed to land a blow on Todoroki, sending him crashing into a wall. Y/N’s eyes blazed with fury as she unleashed her quirk, her chains wrapping around the villain and immobilizing them.

“Don’t you dare hurt him,” she hissed, her voice filled with venom.

After the battle, as they regrouped, the class couldn’t help but comment on Y/N's actions.

“You were amazing out there, Y/N,” Kirishima said. “You really had Shoto’s back.”

“Yeah, you were like a force of nature,” Midoriya added.

Y/N just smiled, her eyes softening as she looked at Todoroki. “I’d do anything to protect him.”

Todoroki felt a warmth spread through his chest at her words. He realized that, despite her intense and sometimes unsettling behavior, he appreciated her dedication and care

Todoroki Shoto found himself more introspective than usual. The warmth that Y/N's presence brought him was undeniable. Her intensity, while strange, was strangely comforting. He couldn't quite place it, but every interaction with her seemed to leave an imprint on his heart.

One quiet evening in the dorms, Todoroki sat by the window, watching the sun dip below the horizon. He couldn’t help but think about Y/N’s actions over the past few days—the way she always seemed to know what he needed before he even realized it himself. He recalled her protective stance during their mission, how fiercely she had defended him against the villains.

He smiled slightly, running a hand through his hair. Despite her quirks and the unsettling nature of her quirk, he found himself drawn to her. There was something endearing about her dedication and the way she seemed to see only the best in him. It was a stark contrast to the emotional distance he had kept for so long.

As he reflected, he realized that her obsessive nature, while intense, was something he had started to appreciate. It made him feel valued in a way he wasn’t used to, and he couldn't deny the sense of comfort it provided him.

Kirishima approached Todoroki in the common area, a curious expression on his face. “Hey, Todoroki,” he began casually, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

Todoroki looked up from his book, meeting Kirishima’s inquisitive gaze.

Kirishima leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “So, what do you think about Y/N’s... unique personality? I mean, she’s pretty intense about you. How does that make you feel?”

Todoroki paused, considering the question. It was a topic he had been mulling over for a while now. “It’s... different,” he admitted slowly. “I don’t think I’ve ever had someone show such a level of dedication and care before. It’s strange, but it’s also something I’ve come to appreciate.”

Kirishima raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile forming. “Strange how, exactly?”

Todoroki shrugged, his gaze softening as he thought about Y/N. “It’s a mix of intensity and protectiveness. She’s always looking out for me, even when I don’t need it. It’s not something I’m used to, but... it feels kind of nice.”

Kirishima chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Sounds like you’re starting to enjoy her attention. Even if it’s a bit intense, it’s clear she really cares about you.”

Todoroki nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I guess you could say that. It’s not what I expected, but it’s... comforting.”

As Kirishima left, Todoroki returned to his thoughts, a small smile playing on his lips. Despite the unconventional nature of Y/N's affection, he couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of warmth and acceptance from her. The bond they shared, though peculiar, was becoming an important part of his life.

Later that day, after a particularly grueling training session, Todoroki found himself alone in the locker room, lost in thought. He was thinking about Y/N again, about her bright smile and the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t notice Y/N right outside the locker room until she was standing right in front of him.

“Hey, Shoto,” she said, her voice soft but carrying a hint of that unsettling intensity she was known for.

Todoroki looked up, surprised. “Y/N, hi. What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” she replied, her eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made his heart skip a beat. “I’ve noticed you’ve been distracted lately. Is everything okay?”

Yep.. totally not weird and creepy..

Todoroki hesitated for a moment before deciding to be honest. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know why, but I can’t seem to get you out of my mind.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, her usual confidence wavered. “You... you’ve been thinking about me?”

“Yes,” Todoroki replied, taking a step closer to her. “I know it sounds strange, but there’s something about you that I can’t ignore. I feel drawn to you, and I don’t know why.”

Y/N’s heart raced as she listened to his words. She had always hoped that Todoroki might feel the same way about her, but she had never dared to believe it could be true. “Shoto, I need to tell you something,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “My quirk... it can make people feel things they wouldn’t normally feel. I’ve been so afraid of using it on you by accident.”

Todoroki reached out and gently took her hand in his. “Y/N, you don’t have to worry about that. Whatever I’m feeling, it’s real. It’s not because of your quirk.”

Todoroki smiled softly, his thumb gently brushing over her knuckles. “Y/N, you don’t have to worry about that. Whatever I’m feeling, it’s real. It’s not because of your quirk.”

#shoto fluff #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto x y/n #shoto x reader #todoroki fluff #todoroki x reader #todoroki x y/n #bnha fluff #bnha x reader #bnha #mha shoto #mha #todoroki mha #shoto headcanons #shoto todoroki #shoto x you

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seastarblue · 1 month ago

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Writemas Day Nine!

nine tiiiiiiime!

the prompts for today!

the ones I chose were:

“…Did you just hug me?”

“Say that again. Never stop saying it.”

the vicious bite of regret

church setting

The whispers of the damned, those who existed solely on the wind, screeched through the shattered windows.

yknow I change these prompts a lot I’m realizing :/ like they’re not exact… anyways.

———

The whispers of the damned, the dead, the forbidden, were always present. They screeched through broken windows, startling Kaiden from her sleep. A cool breeze was permanently blowing, making her shiver. She tried to get up, but found she could not with the rope binding her hands to another’s.

“Tried that already, Kaids.” the person whose hands they were said. He coughed.

She turned her head—‘gods, that hurt’—to him, the little light that emanated from his wings just barely illuminating his features. Despite that, she could see the furrow of his brow and the tension in his jaw. The bite of regret suddenly reminded her: They had been captured. On the most important mission of their lives, no less.

“Felix. Where…?” she started, still woozy.

“Some church, I think. Just past Liaba Ridge.”

“Okay… well, when did you wake up?”

“An hour ago? Not sure—also your head’s bleeding, those guys nailed it really bad.”

Right on cue, she felt a trickle of blood roll down the side of her face, mingling with the other blood pooling underneath them. “Ouch.”

“Ouch is right,” he replied, shifting his weight slightly, which elicited winces from the both of them. “We aren’t getting out of here anytime soon.”

“How are you feeling?” she asked, urgently, worry tinging her tone.

“I think I broke my pinkie toe. Pair that with my throat being—” a short coughing fit, then, “—sore, to say the least, the ol’ wing tears, and the possible cracked ribs? I’ve felt better. How are you?”

“…Not good.”

Felix chuckled, but it was without mirth. “Blunt as always, Kaids.”

Silence settled between them as they thought about where to go from here. They were knocked out, beaten—if the mysterious injuries they’d sustained were anything to go by—tied up, and possibly left for dead in an abandoned building. It wasn’t looking good.

Still, they’d faced worse odds before. All the pair needed was a plan.

“We’re trapped, yes, but we’re not completely incapacitated,” she observed, cocking her head to Felix’s legs. “Our legs are… relatively okay. All we need to do is—”

“—figure out where we are, then—”

“—find a way back to the rendezvous point. We lay low until the others come.” she finished with a smile.

“Alrighty Kaidy, sounds good. But,” Kaiden felt a prick of magic, and heard Felix sigh, “Magic’s blocked. I can’t sever the ropes. Maybe if I…” he started wiggling, seemingly trying to get a better angle to work from. His wings, however, were crushing themselves even more.

“Hey!” she hissed. “Careful, your wings!”

“Well I can’t untie it if I stay still, now can I?” he huffed, but his voice was tinged with pain.

“Let me do it.” Kaiden tried her hands at the binds, but to no avail. They were too numb to be of any use. Damned cold.

Kaiden groaned. “This is gonna take ages.”

“Well at least the ropes aren’t enchanted…?” Felix offered, but his tone soured fast. “Oh, fuck me.”

She was going to ask what made him upset, but then she felt it: the ropes tightening of their own accord. Her eyes darted to where she imagined the door was, and dread filled her as she realized it, too, was enchanted, glowing slightly at the edges.

They were trapped. Clearly, their captors knew what they were doing.

‘Well, time for a new plan, I suppose.’ she thought. Her mind whirled, like the winds outside, as the spirits—‘useless things’—looked on. Despite her best efforts, she came up dry.

Kaiden blinked back tears as her planning turned to panicking. They’d die here, of starvation, or the cold—or their injuries, even—at this rate. A pit opened in her stomach, threatening to swallow every last bit of composure she had.

Until she felt an unsteady hand on the small of her back. And a pair of familiar wings, stretched out on both sides, their faint glow slightly tainted from the tears in the membrane.

The surprise shortly stunned her. “…Did you just hug me? Or try to?”

“Maybe,” he said, so gently Kaiden almost missed it. “And before you say ‘I don’t need it, I’ll be fine,’ just know I can feel your anxiety from here.” She could hear the smile in his voice as he added, “One of the many perks of being Bound to you. We’ll be okay.”

She tried to object, but deep down she knew that this would be best: letting herself calm down and then think would assist her in the long run. Besides, when she really focused on their soul bind, she found that Felix was just as scared as her. So she leaned her head on his, and took a breath. “Say that again.”

“We’ll be okay?”

“Mm.”

“We’ll be okay,” he shifted his weight again, carefully this time. “We’ll be okay.”

Kaiden closed her eyes and tried to relax.

“… how many more times do I have to say this, by the way?”

“Don’t stop saying it. At least till you can see that I’ve calmed down. And do watch your wings, please.”

Felix chuckled. “As you wish. We’ll be okay.”

———

they were not, in fact, okay :>

General Writing List! Lemme know if you’d like on/off!

@bunnymermaidwrites @abiteofhoney @aalinaaaaaa @vesanal @cepheusgalaxy

@fifis-corner @urnumber1star @thebookishkiwi @sunflowerrosy @theink-stainedfolk

@threedaysgross @mundanemoongirl @satohqbanana @bamber344 @imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese

@viridis-icithus @cc-writes-stuff @anothersummerofsleep @sharkblizzardblogs

@verdant-mainframe @kittrrrr @ruvastuon @agirlandherquill (<- the host!)

thanks for reading !

#writeblr #sea’s story 1 #writemas #osea: felix #osea: kaiden #whump #kinda #well that’s what happens after at least #also nooooo I did not edit this bc I found a typo after posting #What gave you that impression ��

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katyawriteswhump · 11 months ago

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Livin’ the dream (steddielovemonth day 3)

After High School, Eddie and Steve’s lives don’t exactly go as planned… For @steddielovemonth day 3 prompt: Love is being terrified but not letting that stop you from taking a leap (@unclewaynemunson) Thank you <3

Rating: M. CW: Unhealthy/abusive relationship (NOT steddie!) Tags: No Upside Down AU, angst. WC: 2,225

…

“I’d never have dreamed,” said Eddie one morning, during his daily stop at Dave’s Diner, “that Steve Harrington pouring my coffee would become the highlight of my day.”

Steve smirked. “Wasn’t exactly how I saw my future either, Munson.”

While Steve poured, Eddie left his hand on his coffee cup. He always did—even if the cup got too hot. Even if it scalded him. He’d not miss a chance to have Steve that close. Nor to enjoy staring at those lickable arms, today exposed to the shoulders by a snug-fitting vest top.

“I guess you really dig lousy weak coffee, man,” said Steve.

“Sets me up for a busy day fulfilling my childhood ambition of hauling bricks, darlin’.” He’d gotten away with ‘darlin’’ last week. Steve didn’t chew his head off today, either, so… “Living the dream, huh?”

Steve sighed hard, started wiping the counter near Eddie, over and over, as he always did. “How’s your pay?” asked Steve quietly.

“It’s a day rate. Not stellar, not the pits. Why? You looking for other work?” Panic rocked through Eddie. “You’re not leaving this place?” Though it would be awesome if we worked together. Eddie was already fantasising about those hot summer days on the construction site, when Steve might strip his shirt off.

“Nah, not really,” said Steve, “I’m kinda tied to this job.” He ran his free hand distractedly across his eyes. Tied to this job—what the heck did that mean? Steve often seemed world-weary and withdrawn. Incongruously so, given the confident guy he used to be. But that was adult life, so it seemed. It sucked.

All the same, Eddie experienced an uneasy urge to probe deeper. Steve got in first: “Hey, how’s the band?”

Eddie beamed. Yeah, there was one other thing, other than coffee with Steve, that he lived for: “We got a gig Saturday night.”

“Let me guess—the super bowl came begging?”

“Haha, just you wait, big guy. It’s at that new bar in town. You wanna come?”

Steve paused his scrubbing. Something sparked in the depths of those big, beguiling eyes that made Eddie’s throat tighten, and his pulse beat faster. “I’m working,” said Steve. I’ll try and get away aft—”

“Hey, kid! You gone blind or you really this lazy?” That was Steve’s boss, Dave, who’d gotten the biggest arms Eddie had ever seen. “There’s more than one punter in this place. If you can count that high?”

“Jesus, he can be such an a-hole,” mumbled Steve. He shot off, even as Eddie bleated:

“See you tomorrow?”

…

Only seven people turn up for Corroded Coffin’s gig. It was a total dud, and Eddie didn’t give a shit.

Among the seven, was Steve.

The crappy too-bright venue lighting revealed Steve undressing Eddie with his eyes, as surely as Eddie undressed Steve. Eddie was so blown away, he almost messed up the finger work on his most bodacious solo.

After the final number, Eddie placed down his guitar and made a beeline for Steve: “Hey, you made it.”

“Figured I might as well. Jon Bon Jovi wasn’t returning my calls.” Steve snickered, and Eddie literally drooled. Metal thrummed through his every vein, and his blood rushed madly—most of it heading south. Steve Harrington CAME TO MY GIG AND STAYED FOR THE NON-EXISTENT AFTER-PARTY. Steve’s vest top was sadly missed, but his tight t-shirt still afforded Eddie a glimpse of that tasty chest hair, and the skin-tight jeans were… Gnnng! And as for the touch of eyeliner?

Slayed Eddie dead.

“You wanna come backstage?” Eddie’s voice came out embarrassingly high-pitched.

“I’d like a drink. Preferably something stronger than coffee, and that I don’t have to pour.”

After his sixth shot, Eddie went in for the kill: “You are literally the hottest fucking thing I have ever goddamn seen.”

“Not exactly slick.” Steve leaned close, and Eddie inhaled his fast, bourbon-spiced breaths. “But I guess it’s a step up on ‘do you come here often.’”

Eddie silenced him with a blockbuster kiss, which Steve returned instantly. Within moments, Eddie was up off his barstool, hands roving wildly over Steve’s delicious torso. Okay, also wandering around to pry under his tight t-shirt, and to grope that mega-hot denim-clad ass. Steve pawed Eddie with equal enthusiasm, setting his barstool rocking till it toppled back.

He jumped off, straight into Eddie’s arms. Wow! There was nothing better than kissing somebody roughly your own height. Back at school, he’d figured Steve was a lot taller than him—like most jocks, he’d had that early spurt of growth, Eddie guessed. Then Eddie had more of less caught up, and now..? Yeah, everything had changed, all his preconceptions thrown to the winds. Best of all, Steve had turned out to be a good dude.

Also, the best kisser ever.

They made out like their lives depended on it, tongues sliding together, slickly and keenly. Meanwhile, despite the hotness, all those sweet moments over coffee crammed together in Eddie’s head.

You are the highlight of my life… The light of my goddamn life! How come this took so long?

Then, as abruptly as it started, Steve broke the kiss. He staggered back into his stool, setting it rocking again. “Shit!”

“Oooookay.” Eddie felt like he’d been punched. “Used to that in gig write-ups, but—”

“Oh God, no… It’s not you. It’s so not about you. This was a terrible idea.” He knocked Eddie’s fingers from where they lingered on his hip, and sidestepped, placing the barstool between them.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s about me, Munson, so you can quit the goddamn kicked-puppy-dog eyes.” Erm, back at ya, Harrington. “I’m with another guy, okay?” He laughed, and somehow, it was one of the most miserable sounds Eddie had ever heard. “I didn’t think we’d… Look, I really shouldn’t have come.”

With that, he bolted.

…

Eddie got to the diner super-early on Monday morning. He’d barely thought of anything other than Steve, who was no longer simply his secret crush. Or even the light of his life.

Without exactly knowing why, Eddie was pretty much dying with worry for him.

Steve didn’t pour Eddie’s coffee. He dumped the pot on the counter, emoted unwelcomingly with hard-set features, and hurried off to take a table order. Which he then headed out back to prepare.

Eddie waited. He was gonna be late for work, and his boss would give him an earful, and he really couldn’t give a crap.

The diner emptied out, and eventually, Steve emerged from the back, mouthing:

“What the Hell?”

“I needed to see you, Steve.” Steve glared at him, and Eddie did a double take. Steve looked more exhausted than ever, shadows stark as bruises around his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Saturday was a big mistake. Huge. Had an argument with my boyfriend about it, that’s all. Scram, will you?”

Steve’s boss came out from the back. Steve emoted wildly again, shooed Eddie, and the truth dawned. And was slammed home when Dave slapped Steve’s butt—scowling at Eddie, as he did so—then grabbed Steve’s shoulders, spiralled him about, and shoved him off in the direction of another table awaiting service.

“Either you place another order, or get lost,” said Dave to Eddie.

Eddie ordered pancakes and waited.

“Dave? Seriously?” hissed Eddie, when he finally got Steve’s attention again. He begrudgingly admitted Dave was okay looking. All the same: “He’s a dick! And he’s gotta be old enough to be your dad.”

Steve edged close, talking so fast and hushed Eddie strained to follow. “My parents threw me out. I was on the streets! Dave was… good to me, took me in, and now… I’m kinda stuck. He takes my rent out of my wages, and there’s never anything left, and—”

“You need to get away from him, man.” Eddie felt sick. Somehow, he burbled it out: “Leave the son-of-a-bitch. Right now. You can crash with me.”

“You live in your uncle’s trailer! He’d be beyond thrilled, I’m sure, and Dave would…” Steve’s mouth hung open a moment. He’d what? Come after you? “Look, I’m okay. Dave’s all right, really. Gets grouchy sometimes, that’s all.”

Eddie spouts the next question before he can stop himself. “Do you love him?”

Steve tossed his arms up in despair: “What kinda dumbass question is that?” Yeah, Eddie wants to facepalm. In retrospect, it was truly dumb! “Look, he doesn’t know who I saw on Saturday, but he’s already bitching about you hanging around too much. Just fucking go already!”

Eddie didn’t drive on to the construction site. Instead, as his brain screamed, You’re batshit crazy, he pawned all his meagre possessions, even his beloved Warlock. His plan only faltered when Wayne caught wind of him going to a loan shark. His uncle literally dragged him from their office and insisted on lending Eddie all his scant savings.

Eddie refused. Wayne refused harder. They headed to the second-hand dealership and purchased the cheapest RV in the yard.

Next morning, Eddie trundled his rusty 1960s Volkswagen into the forecourt of Dave’s Diner. He gritted his teeth, squared his shoulders, and moseyed through the door like a gunslinger and about to unleash hell. One that was also trembling like jello, packing zero heat, and practically pissing himself.

“Got my own place now,” he said to Steve.

Steve looked mad, refused him even a coffee cup, though Dave didn’t seem to be around. Yet. “This isn’t happening, Eddie.”

“My place has got wheels, darlin’.” Eddie motioned to the RV outside, dropped his voice to an undertone. “It’s a big country. We can go anywhere. I’ll park up half-a-mile along the road. Wait all day. All night, if you need.”

Steve eked tight words from between gritted teeth: “Look, I don’t wanna sound ungrateful. It’s still a ‘no,’ man. You must have gone cuckoo. I mean, what about your band?”

Yeah, that brought a pang to Eddie’s chest: “Honestly? The rest of the guys are losing interest fast. I can fly solo. As long as you’ll fly with me?”

Dave strode out from the back. The flash of fear in Steve’s eyes cut Eddie to the quick, because it also hollered, You’re making things worse!

Oh God, what’ve I done?

“You’re barred,” yelled Dave at Eddie. “I see your long-haired loony mug one more time, you can kiss my fist.”

“Subtle you ain’t, asshat.” Eddie retreated, literally a mangy, kicked dog. He drove the RV that half-a-mile along the road and waited. And waited. By midnight, he felt like his heart had been wrung dry, and eventually, he fell asleep.

A loud thudding roused him. He sat up, blinked at his unfamiliar surroundings and then… Shiiiit! He dashed to the door.

Steve perched on the step, his wide eyes glowing with something… unfamiliar. Some sparkle that might just be hope. He’d gotten a very small bundle slung over his shoulder.

“I hope you were serious?” asked Steve.

“Deadly serious, darlin’.”

Steve took Eddie’s face in his hands, and kissed him, briefly, almost chastely. Totally mind blowing. “So good to do that without feeling guilty,” he murmured, smoothing kiss-wetted lips together.

Eddie grinned; he wasn’t even quite sure if this was real: “Let’s get the Hell out of Dodge,” he said.

They hit the road, and they never looked back.

…

Three months later

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” cooed Eddie, as the Hawkins pawn shop owner handed his Warlock back across the counter. “I missed you soooo much.”

“Ugh, seriously?” bitched Steve, as soon as they exited the store. He blocked Eddie’s path along the sidewalk, planted his hands on his hips: “Should I be jealous?”

“Nah. We’re a proper family now.” With his guitar safely stowed in its case, he slung an arm around Steve, and they walked on toward where they’d parked the RV. “Tho’ when we get to Wayne’s, I might have a moment with my long-lost beloved. While you two watch the game.”

“No funny business, Sweetcheeks, or I’m absconding with a second-hand Yamaha keyboard.”

Eddie beamed broadly. It felt so weird, being back in Hawkins, and with hope, at least, for a better future. Not even having to worry about… “You know, I kinda want to thank Chief Hopper in person for arresting your douchebag ex.”

“Yeah, well, he put a guy in the hospital.” Steve shuddered. “They’ve charged him with attempted homicide.”

God, I’m so relieved it wasn’t you, thinks Eddie.

Steve rattled out a joyless laugh that Eddie hadn’t heard for some time, and said, “Jesus, I’m so happy it wasn’t you.”

Suddenly, Eddie’s eyes brimmed with tears. It’s too much. He can’t bear to think of what might have been. “Love you so much,” he blurted, fumbling for the keys for the RV. He couldn’t get up the steps and inside with Steve fast enough

“Love you too,” whispered Steve, once the door was closed, and sounding slightly choked, also. Which isn’t like him.

They clasped each other tighter than ever, and did their darndest to kiss the bad memories away.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddielovemonth #steve x eddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington whump #eddie x steve #eddie munson #steddie fanfiction

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lookismfanfics · 2 years ago

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Hii! Hope you're doing okay. May I request some of the characters accidentally hitting their calm maleReader instead of the enemy and now he's getting a huge bruise on where they hit him? thx u

Idk how many characters I'm allowed to choose so I'm just gonna name a few and you can pick..? 😅

Jake / Vasco / Zack / Jace / Vin Jin / Warren / Megumi / Goo

“𝐌𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐝!”

Warnings: Mentions of violence, fluff, not really fluff though, cursing, mentions of balls.

Jake • Vasco • Zack • Jace • Vin • Warren • Megumi • Goo

Hey anon! I’m doing good, thanks for asking! ♡︎ I decided to do everyone you requested because yes 😩 I also changed it up a little with the “enemy” part. Some of them are petty interactions, and others are full-fledged brawls lol.

𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞

𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ✧ He was focusing a little too hard.

✧ The same mantra kept echoing in Jake’s mind, urging him on: “keep fighting.”

✧ He was just a little caught up in everything, that’s all—

✧ He was absorbed in hearing the definitive crack of his opponents nose, feeling the warm spew of blood that followed a hit to the ribs, seeing the trail of bodies that followed his path

✧ These suckers were really something. There were so many of them, and they had been harassing this area for long enough

✧ Jake had called out to Jerry to ask “Where is he?” But hadn’t gotten a response

✧ Then there’s a rustle behind him

✧ A sneak attack.

✧ Instincts go: 📈

✧ He whips around, just barely seeing the glint of purpose in his opponents eyes

✧ “Jake!”

✧ He feels the warm contact of hitting a cheek. But Jake isn’t stupid and realizes his fatal error

✧ I mean… who would’ve guessed that the opponent would duck?

✧ “Sorry (Y/N)! Where’ve you been-?” He pants

✧ Honestly Jake has never been more ashamed. He did hit him, didn’t he?

✧ (Y/N) doesn’t seem fazed, he just keeps up whatever he was doing. “It’s fine… I’ve just been around.”

✧ The man is hardly panting… damn you (Y/N). You’re attractive even when you aren’t trying…

✧ (That’s what Jake thinks anyways)

𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ✧ As soon as the fight is over, Jake runs.

✧ His dress shoes slam against what bare concrete is left, avoiding the piles of unconscious and semi-conscious bodies.

✧ He tries not to panic. He has to play it cool, and not throw a fit.

✧ Eventually, he finds you talking to Brad, nursing your busted fists with your back to him. Jake let’s out a sigh, “Pretty nasty hit you took there.”

✧ A playful smile toys at his lips as he observes you. You turn to him, seemingly unscathed, nodding with a small smile, “Uh, yeah. Nice punch Boss.”

✧ He tries not to let the use of formalities affect him too much. (Inwardly wounded)

✧ “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks, this time with a note of concern.

✧ “He thinks he has a concussion, boss,” Brad interrupts, just the hint of a smile intermingled with his serious tone.

✧ You ignore Jake’s slacked jaw and bewildered look, eyeing Brad tiredly, “So much for keeping a secret.”

✧ “You shouldn’t keep secrets from the boss- or your boyfr—”

✧ “(Y/N),” Jake drags his finger beneath your chin, prompting you to turn to him. “Is that tr…ue?”

✧ It’s not the thought of a concussion that made Jake stop.

✧ It’s…

✧ 😰

✧ “Your cheek… is this the one I hit?”

✧ You nod.

✧ “Well uh~ not to worry you but… it’s bruising just a little~” “It’s fine Jake-”

✧ Apparently he didn’t think it was “fine”.

✧ Jakes brows furrow together as he examines you. With the way his eyes darken and his smiles fades, He looks beyond apologetic; it’s as if guilt seeps into his every movement.

✧ “You don’t have to worry about it,” you smile. There’s not even the slightest hint of anxiety in your voice, but it does nothing to reassure Number One of Big Deal.

✧ “Yeah but you know I will,” he smirks half-heartedly, quickly reverting back to his worried face.

✧ He’s never letting it go. Every time he sees the splotch of that massive dark bruise, he feels the urge to apologize.

✧ It’s beyond an inside joke too.

✧ Anyone brings it up jokingly, and his head sags and a shadow runs across his face.

✧ “Sorry about that (Y/N).”

✧ “Jake, it healed months ago.”

𝐕𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐨

𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ✧ Fights like these were becoming more often.

✧ Vasco was adjusting to the oncoming rush of bad guys. He was confident in his abilities. Sure of himself; he was bound to crush them all.

✧ But…

✧ “(Y/N)? Are you alright?”

✧ His dark eyes scan the battlefield of boys swinging at each other, searching for one man in particular.

✧ He catches him in his sight. (Y/N).

✧ “Are you almost done—” “Euntae, focus.”

✧ The tone of his voice sends a chill down Vasco’s spine.

✧ The cogs in his brain stop working for a second as he continues fighting on autopilot. He wants to keep an eye on (Y/N). He doesn’t want to loose sight of him.

✧ Vasco feels a harsh smack to his ribs, knocking the wind out of him. What was that? His instincts heighten as his body reacts frantically.

✧ He turns to the guy fighting him, readying one of numerous forbidden moves just for him.

✧ Once he sends the guy flying it’s back to looking for (Y/N)-

✧ “Euntae-!”

✧ Smack.

𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕

✧ “(Y/N)?! (Y/N) are you okay!? Please wake up!”

✧ Vasco was reduced to a sobbing mess.

✧ You open your eyes, staring at his red face damp with tears. It’s an odd sight- especially since you only fell down a couple of seconds ago.

✧ “Yeah Vasco… I’m fine,” you offer a small smile. Even if it does hurt, you know making a big deal out of nothing would be problematic.

✧ You act calm. Chill. Even a little nonchalant.

✧ Vasco remains crouched on the ground while you dust off your pants, glancing around the parking lot littered with bloodied “bad guys.”

✧ “You’re positive that you’re alright?” He asks slowly, staring at you with concern.

✧ “Yeah. It’ll probably form a bruise at the most,” you reply. You touch your chest, seemingly unfazed.

✧ You feel awful for lying to him. Your chest feels like it’s on fire. It’s sore and laborious to breathe… but you won’t tell him that.

✧ “Sorry.” Vasco says simply.

✧ No one brings it up until you’re undressing at the Burn Knuckles base.

✧ Everyone is slipping out of their jumpsuits and into more comfortable, casual clothes. It smells sweaty and feels humid… but somehow Leon always manages to steal the bathroom before anyone else. (Thankfully)

✧ You listen quietly, offering smiles as Vasco retells a story about him and Jace, obviously awaiting your reaction.

✧ He doesn’t intentionally flaunt his muscles in front of you… but sometimes it seems that way. That’s partially why you like to keep most of your clothes on around him- so he doesn’t start comparing. 😳

✧ “That’s funny~” you reply to one of his stares that begged for your approval. You lift your shirt off over your shoulders, slinging it around your neck as you grab a fresh one.

✧ The room: … You: … You: 🫥

✧ “…What?”

✧ Vasco’s eyes start to gloss over as he frantically grabs your shoulders, examining your bare chest.

✧ “(Y/N)… who hit you?” “I’m sure lots of people did…”

✧ Vasco shakes his head, rubbing his hand across the massive dark splotch that stains your skin. The discolored purple and red resembles a fist… but it doesn’t seem to click to him.

✧ If he means right there… then…. “Probably you.”

✧ You smirk, shaking your head as Vasco stares at you in horror. The bruise doesn’t really bother you- you’re covered in them after today anyway.

✧ Of course you handle his outbursts calmly… reassuring him that you’re not angry.

✧ But he continues, eyes scanning over you for any more bruises that he might’ve given you. “I’m sorry (Y/N)… I didn’t mean for that to happen…”

✧ Vasco: 🥺😰

✧ He apologizes a million times, often quietly and at random. ✧ No- he will not forgive himself.

✧ Yes… he forgets about it for a few weeks before remembering and apologizing all over again.

✧ Jace and the rest of the Burn Knuckles make sure to not ever bring it up again. You also are forced to wear some form of padding under your shirt whenever you get into a fight.

𝐙𝐚𝐜𝐤

✧ Zack isn’t gonna deny it. That guy is getting on his nerves.

✧ This was supposed to be a hang out with him and (Y/N). They were gonna chill and head to the movies. Maybe do some karaoke later.

✧ Just the two of them. Not even Mira was tagging along today.

✧ But then this guy showed up.

✧ Zack feels himself growing more agitated by the minute. He grits his teeth and looks in the opposite direction, willing himself to calm down.

✧ (Y/N) and him are on a park bench… and this idiot decides to stand behind them and catcall.

✧ “You work out bro~?”

✧ Zack is literally seething. (Y/N) has to put his hand on Zack’s leg to keep him from springing up.

✧ “Do you mind reading between the lines?” (Y/N) asks, flashing his three middle fingers before turning to Zack.

✧ “Wanna go to the theatre early? We could walk around-” he whispers, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

✧ Zack is still irked. His brows are knitted together tightly, but he simply shrugs and nods: “Whatever. Let’s just get away from this dunce.”

✧ The dunce, however, seems to really like being annoying. “Can I tag along with you two-?”

✧ “F*ck off,” Zack glares. He starts walking ahead, curling his hands into fists but keeping them shoved firmly in the corners of his pockets.

✧ He keeps his gaze trailed on the ground, trying to cool off. He’d hate to ruin this hang out with (Y/N) even more. So he’ll play it cool and be the bigger man- like Mira tells him to be. It’s hotter that way. ((Y/N) will think so too, right?)

✧ The smirk that spread across his lips disappears in a matter of moments.

✧ “Nice ass-!” The creep calls.

✧ And that’s it. The final straw.

✧ Zack is going for a straight jab. He’d be caught dead before he let someone get away catcalling (Y/N) of all people-

✧ He turns and slams his fist, making direct contact. He can hear the definitive clack of teeth, he watches as he stumbles backwards.

✧ But Zack realizes what he’s done…

✧ “S-Sh*t (Y/N)! What were you doing there-?” (Y/N) nurses his jaw tenderly, glaring. He sighs and turns to the guy, telling him to ‘beat it.’

✧ Zack moves to cup (Y/N)’s cheek, looking frantic. He mumbles ‘idiot’ over and over… but more to himself than anyone.

✧ He knows he’s screwed up big time. He’s insistent on helping (Y/N) walk… even though he isn’t dizzy and he claims his cheek isn’t sore.

✧ He tries to forget about it as they watch the movie… but he can’t. As soon as the lights in the cinema flicker on he scans (Y/N) for any bruising.

✧ “I can’t believe it’s so big…” “I already told you it’s fine.” “But- argh I should beat that guy to a pulp- you sure you’re okay?” “Yeah I’m sure, Zack.”

✧ He’s apologetic- but still an angry boy at heart.

𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐞

✧ In his defense- Jace is usually pretty good about “self control” and everything.

✧ He’s also pretty good about it reading the atmosphere. He can tell when the mood has turned sour or hostile.

✧ He’s able to “let it go” when there’s a petty misunderstanding. Most of the time.

✧ But today this one guy (Duri…?) is killing him.

✧ He’s been a nuisance for a few weeks now… but The Burn Knuckles never had the heart to tell him off. Even (Y/N) was pretty chill about the guy- and he was usually more fiery than Jace.

✧ But as of right now, Jace stands idly with Woong and (Y/N), listening to whatever BS that guy, Duri Lee, is spewing out.

✧ Woong and (Y/N) are listening boredly as the one-sided conversation turns from childish comparisons to full-fledged insults.

✧ Duri wraps his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder, despite (Y/N) having shrugged him off twice already.

✧ Jace feels awful. He reminds himself of how jealous Johan was back during the One Night scandal. It’s embarrassing knowing that he’s feeling jealousy about… this.

✧ He’s not a jealous person… but Duri really gets on his nerves. If he keeps up his stupid act, his stupidity might spread to Jace… and then he’ll do something stupid.

✧ Even as Duri begins to degrade Jace himself, rambling a bunch of nonsense about how he “isn’t as smart as he looks”, Jace manages to keep it together. He feels a twinge of annoyance and glares, but he doesn’t say anything.

✧ The rest of the Burn Knuckles aren’t buying the bs anyway. So it’s fine.

✧ “Know you place, Duri.”

✧ Jace’s gaze snaps over to (Y/N). Did he hear him correctly? Did (Y/N) finally say something? He feels a small smile winding onto his face-

✧ “I know exactly where my place is!” Duri sputters indignantly. His look of shock is short lived and is soon replaced by a smirk. It’s highly probable that he’ll take a pathetic jab at redemption.

✧ Jace hates the way Duri’s eyes roam over (Y/N). He braces himself for what comes next.

✧ “It should be sweating over you, if you know what I mean.”

✧ Great. Gross.

✧ Jace turns to Duri now, scowling at him, “You wanna say that again? The Burn Knuckles don’t hit on each other, so don’t even think-” “Whatever Jace. Me and him were just gonna do some catching up~”

✧ Duri makes a crude gesture with his hands. He keeps his arm wrapped around (Y/N), who rolls his eyes and glares.

✧ (Y/N) sighs, “Or so you think. You do know that me and Jace are-”

✧ One kick- one harsh smack. Jace doesn’t know what he’s doing- but whatever it is lands Duri facedown on the floor.

✧ He’s startled by his own rashness. Stupidity really is contagious. He frowns down at Duri but doesn’t move anymore. “Like I said. Burn Knuckle members like you aren’t allowed to hit on their superiors.”

✧ He turns to embrace the startled and disappointed stares from Woong and (Y/N) (respectively)

✧ But naturally, Duri needs to have the last word. Like all PTJ small fries, he wants to sign his death certificate a little early.

✧ “That stupid hierarchy is never gonna get you laid,” he grumbles.

✧ Jace turns and throws all his weight into the kick-

✧ Blocked.

✧ (Y/N)…?

✧ (Y/N) has his arms outstretched in a block, giving Jace an unreadable stare. He sighs, releasing the second-in-command’s foot.

✧ “(Y/N)-” “That’s gonna leave a bruise.”

———

✧ Jace is sitting with (Y/N) a little latter. He still feels a pang of frustration when he remembers the little situation… as well as guilt for hitting (Y/N).

✧ (Y/N) rolls up his sleeves, looking over his arms quietly. Based on his eerie calmness, Jace can assume that there’s a pretty large bruise forming.

✧ Despite the knowing of guilt, Jace is a tad bit grateful for the intervention. He knows (Y/N) only stopped him for the sake of his dignity.

✧ “You’re not normally so passive-aggressive,” (Y/N) comments nonchalantly.

✧ “I know… I’m sorry.” Jace rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, feeling a touch of color flare in his cheeks.

✧ He promises to help ice it, and assures (Y/N) that he won’t do anything like that again. He just smiles dryly and waves it off.

✧ “You probably won’t have the need to,” he says.

✧ Jace looks up at him, his fingers still gingerly rubbing around the bruise. “Won’t have to… attack Duri?”

✧ (Y/N) nods, “He p*ssed himself, apparently.”

✧ Jace knows it’s wrong… honest to god he feels bad… but he couldn’t help but smirk at the thought.

(I swear I’m sorry this entire thing is a mess. I can’t decide which POV to stick to-)

𝐕𝐢𝐧 𝐉𝐢𝐧

✧ In his defense, Vin had recently gotten his glasses re-tinted… and so he was having some trouble adjusting.

✧ But it would’ve been nice if he didn’t walk by you in some grubby alleyway. What a nuisance. He just wanted to go home, listen to some rap, and eat his onion rings.

✧ But you… of course… found yourself in a predicament. 😔

✧ “You’re just gonna stand there?” You call, back pressed against the wall as you stare lazily past the punks you apparently offended.

✧ They seem ticked that your attention is suddenly elsewhere.

✧ Vin just stares at you, silent for a moment, before shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s not my problem.”

✧ “They called me a d*ck-” you call. Although the familiarity of the term has nulled any offended emotions, you’re certain Vin has reserved insulting-you-rights for himself.

✧ “Not my problem,” Vin insists, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

✧ The punks continue to close in on you, throwing insults at the two of you- despite Vin being across the alley. You both ignore them.

✧ “Ah- they also called Mary fat.”

✧ “Still not my problem.”

✧ “They said Duke’s music is better than yours-”

✧ “Did not!”

✧ “And they called your sunglasses ‘gaudy’.”

✧ Which is followed by silence as one of the punks lowers a cigarette bud towards your cheek. You don’t flinch, staring past his shoulder at Vin.

✧ You wait in anticipation for Vin to say something. Anything. You’re so intent on seeing his reaction you hardly notice the burning sensation of the cigarette nearing your skin.

✧ “No they didn’t…” Vin mumbles. He adjusts his stance- and now you’re sure he isn’t going to abandon you.

✧ “Would you freaks shut up?!” The punk rolls his eyes in exasperation, pulling the bud away from your face and turning to Vin.

✧ “Or do you have somethin’ you wanna say too?” The delinquent flicks the cigarette to the side, staring your knight-in-shining-armor up and down reproachfully.

✧ You inwardly moan. Vin has lots of things he wants to say. It’s best not to get him started.

✧ “You talk too much,” Vin answers, and begins strutting forward.

✧ You crack your knuckles, relieved you won’t have to take them all on your own.

✧ “Anyway this is a waste of my time- so let’s just go (Y/N).” He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, not at all prepared for the slap.

✧ Yes. A petty, weak, girlish, slap.

✧ A slap that knocks his sunglasses askew. You freeze.

✧ “Hey,” you call loudly, watching as their heads swivel towards you. “Don’t look at him. Say anything and I-”

✧ The loud noise of bones cracking interrupts you-

✧ Vin goes rampant, giggling and grinning like a school girl. Oh hell. You shrug and get into your own fighting stance. “Well I guess he’ll kick your asses anyways- so nevermind…” you mutter.

✧ Those stupid glasses. Distorting his vision all the time. Even…

✧ In fights.

✧ You feel numbness tingling through your arms as you avoid another swing of your opponents arm. Reaching up with a strike of your own, you manage to punch him in the ribs for a KO.

✧ You’re so focused. Vin is so distracted.

✧ You scan the two other guys already beaten to the ground, and look up to see Vin walking towards you victoriously—

✧ But instead he’s charging you with arms at the ready— “WAIT VIN-!”

✧ He stops mid-swing… but only after he’s felt his skin contact with yours.

✧ The force sends you backwards into the wall. Nausea and dizziness begin bubbling in your body.

✧ You feel your knees buckle and your eyes crossing, and the pounding of your heart is auditable in your ears as you nurse your numb jaw.

✧ Meanwhile Vin just stands there in shock, calling you names while asking insincerely if you’re okay.

✧ “You can’t blame me cuz you were in the way you little sh*t! Ugh… f*ck…” he mutters.

✧ You’re calm while he rambled, but your patience begins to thin as he continues insisting the blame was all on you.

✧ “Vin…” you say calmly. “Would you shut the hell up. If it weren’t for your stupid glasses…”

✧ -He gawks in surprise

✧ “Then I wouldn’t have a concussion. Or a nose bleed,” you snap.

✧ There’s silence. Your face is illuminated by the blue light of your phone as you search for the Urgent Care nearby.

✧ “…That does look pretty bad.” Finally. He has the decency to be a little sincere.

✧ Vin leans in closely, trying to catch your eye. While you avoid eye contact, you are perfectly in tune with his movements.

✧ “I’m taking you to my place,” Vin huffs with a smirk, seemingly trying to redeem himself as he shoves his hands into his pants.

✧ “I thought you didn’t care earlier,” you answer, still scrolling on your phone. Only half-listening.

✧ Then his bulky arm wraps around your torso, and he scoops you over his shoulder.

✧ ‼️

✧ Not good for the nausea or dizziness.

✧ But anyway…he did carry you to the Urgent Care…

✧ Where he blatantly denies bruising you up, and even laughs a little. (Okay- he does feel a little guilty…)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧

✧ “(Y/N)-” “I’m not closing my eyes.”

✧ There’s no way you’re letting Warren take them all by himself.

✧ It’s just not happening.

✧ He seems to know. He’s fine with you fighting, as long as he isn’t there to worry over you. He can’t get over the urge to intervene and protect you until the fight is over. That’s always been the case.

✧ “You let Eli fight,” you remind him, turning to face away from him and towards the crowd of delinquents. “You’re not (Eli. That’s) different.”

✧ You’re not different than Eli? Well then, you’ll take that as a yes… even if you do inwardly know what he was trying to say.

✧ Your shoes slap against the floor as you walk through puddles of water. The day is overcast, just like Warren’s mood.

✧ Soon enough the blood mixes with the water.

✧ The man spits out a tooth as you throw an elbow into his jaw. Your clenched fists shake like leaves as you deliver a kick into his back.

✧ It’s loud- but you can’t even hear the shouts of grunts of the fight…

✧ Just the ringing in your ears. The adrenaline pump doesn’t help… it just gives you endurance and an animalistic will to withstand the blows. It doesn’t help you make decisions, or strike properly.

✧ “Warren-!” You feel your heart beating in your ears.

✧ Warren is smart in his own way. But once his mind is shrouded with concern, he’ll do anything to plow a path straight to you.

✧ Oh? You were just trying to draw his attention to the guy making a lame attempt at a “sneak attack?”

✧ Nevermind then…

✧ But as it starts winding down and all that’s left are the decently-difficult fighters… Warren feels his heart lurching out of his chest.

✧ “Gotta help (Y/N)…” he thinks to himself. And the thought replays. Over and over. “The mighty Warren Chae won’t let him get hurt...”

✧ (Y/N)…. (Y/N)….

✧ You….

✧ “You-!?” Slam

✧ Warren didn’t mean to loose focus and body slam you into the wall— but he did—

✧ “You’re…(good?I didn’t see you) in the way! (Sorry!)” His words slur thickly and he skips a few while he’s at it.

✧ Your vision feels fuzzy. Your body feels hot as he presses his rough hands against your neck. But as your heartbeat slows back to normal, and the adrenaline boost wears off, you come to face reality.

✧ The fight isn’t over.

✧ “I’m fine Warren,” you assure him calmly. “But don’t get distracted-”

✧ “Then listen to me,” he says firmly. Ignoring the oncoming kick directed at him, he leans (down/up) towards you. “Close your eyes.”

✧ He forces your body into a sitting position on the ground. Your hands shake slightly as you hold your sore shoulder. Your eyes are squeezed shut.

✧ You keep quiet and try to block out the disturbing noises. Shouts of agony, the snapping of bones. It doesn’t bother you as much when you’re fighting together… but knowing Warren is going rampant makes you uneasy.

✧ “Okay… open your (eyes).”

✧ Warren is already kneeling beside you, brushing his calloused hands around your torso to (take off your jacket and) lift off your shirt.

✧ You feel the cold slap of breeze against your skin 💨 👋

✧ Warren’s droopy eyes look a mixture of sad-dog and irritated-cat. How could he mistake you for the enemy?

✧ Guilty… frustrated… concerned.

✧ He rubs his rough palm against your shoulder. His thumb pad traces circles around the large bruise that’s forming.

✧ The longer you sit there, the darker the bruise seems. And it’s making Warren a little paranoid.

✧ “It’s getting worse-” he mumbles.

✧ “I’ll be fine.”

✧ “I’ll treat it back home.”

✧ “Alright… take me to bed I guess.”

✧ “…”

✧ A pause.

✧ “Bed rest. I meant. Not really like that.”

✧ “…I was gonna say. I’m not sure if you’re up for that.”

✧ Yeah. It’s time to shut up.

✧ Is Warren sad? Yes. Guilty? Yup. Frustrated? Very. It’s never happening again. You’ll probably never be allowed throw a punch in his presence ever again.

𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐢

✧ Magami curls his toes into the sticky martial arts mats that line the floor. Even though it’s night outside, the training room is still illuminated by tube lights overhead.

✧ Practicing his karate, even when the room is empty and less stuffy, still feels constructing in the mask. It’s still not as bad as it is in the arena.

✧ He practices the fluid motion of his kick again.

✧ Then the movement of his strike.

✧ He hears the door creak open. Kenta swears that if Nomen tries to interrupt him with some annoying sh-

✧ A best of silence passes as he distances himself from the sandbag. Maybe it wasn’t Nomen after all.

✧ But then there’s a voice that sounds out-

✧ Magami feels the blood rushing to his face- and without thinking he swings his leg for an ushiro geri-

✧ Slam.

✧ He feels his foot connect with wood, snapping through the barriers and splitting the cypress in half. His pulse remains sickeningly fast as he straightens and turns to face the back.

✧ He was right. It wasn’t Nomen…

✧ Instead, Tanuki - you - stands rigidly behind him, cupping your face and the shattered splinters of wood.

✧ He broke your mask.

✧ “It’s just me, Daruma…” you say quietly, still standing stiff and in shock. You stare at him with half of your face naked and exposed while dragging your finger across your damp cheek. Blood. You’re bleeding…

✧ “Don’t get in my way again.” That’s his reply.

✧ His voice is deep and muffled. A better mask for his emotions that’s the actual mask that he wears. You can tell, out of perceptiveness, that he’s a bit flustered.

✧ His brows are drawn together tightly and his lips purse from behind his disguise. He feels his heart hammering in his chest. Why Tanuki…? Of all people.

✧ You tuck your free hand into your pocket, removing the remains of your mask with the other with calm precision, nodding understandingly.

✧ “I was coming to tell you how late it was,” you drawl.

✧ This is why Kenta thinks you can be an annoying prick. You stand there in such a relaxed pose, voice drawing reactions out of Kenta he has no control over.

✧ His eyes are wandering. Tanuki (you) was always more appealing to Kenta than the others, to an extent.

✧ “How late is it?” He asks.

✧Tanuki wasn’t as annoying as Nomen, and he carried a conversation better than Hyottoko. Hanyya was always accompanied by Nomen, so that was a no-go. And Tanuki was much less obnoxious than Shiba Inu.

✧ “The circus is starting in an hour. It’s that late.”

✧ His eyes wandered up from your dress shoes, your suit pants… and flickered over that iconic, unmistakable bulge that earned you the Tanuki alias; across his chest and up to your cheek.

✧ Kenta’s attention was fixated on your cheek. With the mask no longer covering your face, he could see your features for the - third time?

✧ And your cheek, he notices, is bleeding.

✧ “You’re gonna form a bad bruise if you don’t ice that,” he remarks all of a sudden.

✧ He moves to unbutton his suit and change into the convict clothes. Keeping his focus away from you.

✧ “Oh…” you murmur from behind him. Even without looking, Kenta knows you’ve begun touching your cheek gingerly again. “Well it doesn’t matter. It’s always covered up anyway.”

✧ Kenta doesn’t feel as guilty about it as he does embarrassed. And it’s not really- embarrassment… just- he just feels flustered. Actually, at this point he isn’t sure how he feels.

✧ “Ice it.” This time it’s not a warning, but a command.

✧ “I will… I will. Afterwards. You need help-?”

✧ At this point, Magami is convinced Tanuki could pull off any pose and turn him on. He feels riled up and agitated as you lean to help unfasten a particularly stubborn button.

✧ “…Don’t be a d*ck, Tanuki.”

✧ “‘No thanks’ would’ve sufficed.”

✧ You proceed to unfasten his shirt anyway. Kenta’s face remains impassive, but he won’t deny his gratitude for the mask policy right now 🫣.

✧ He stares at the bloody, darkening splotch on your cheek. Unmistakably the result of his kick. He also notes that you look good without the mask.

✧ Once he slides out of his shirt and into the bright orange one, he brings up his finger to tap harshly against your face.

✧ “Well, ice it soon.”

✧ He starts unfastening his pants. As he bends down, he can’t help but sneak glances at your limp bulge tucked away in your own slacks. He really disgusts himself sometimes. But you’re so damnably attractive, it’s almost annoying.

✧ Rephrase: it is annoying.

✧ You adjust your stance, shifting your weight from leg to leg and crossing your arms. Damn you. Kenta almost chokes.

✧ “Will do,” you chuckle.

✧ “Don’t make me kick you again.”

✧ “Daruma…”

Cough- cough… ☞︎ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

𝐆𝐨𝐨

✧ “Don’t wander off too far boo~”

✧ “Goo…”

✧ You feel a little exasperated. As Goo Kim’s secret friend, you’d think he’d treat you more like an equal. Or at least have confidence in your capabilities.

✧ And how did you end up being singled out as his ‘dearly beloved’ anyway?

✧ As you land another hit on some poor punk’s ribs, you feel your promise ring scrape his skin and draw blood.

✧ So… seeing as you’re wearing that ridiculous price of jewelry… you sort of already know how that story ended.

✧ But it doesn’t matter. You’re tying to stay level-headed as you fight, and your ‘future spouse’ being obnoxious isn’t soothing your nerves.

✧ In fact, you can’t recall a single time fighting with Goo was therapeutic. So I guess this isn’t anything different from the norm.

✧ “What’s for dinner?” You ask boredly. You sink into your toes and dodge a wild swing, kicking the kid in the gut.

✧ “Whatever you feel like babe!” Goo replies energetically as he finishes bashing in some heads.

✧ “I could go for some bird meat,” you muse quietly as a new onrush of guys heads your way. It’s a wonder than Goo hears you.

✧ “Ooh- okay! How about chicken?”

✧ “Pass. Turkey?”

✧ Goo swings a crowbar around expertly, a more focused expression on his features. He takes a moment to reply. “Nah… I hate the flavor.”

✧ “Okay, how about-”

✧ “Duck!”

✧ Whack.

✧ “…Or just… embrace it I guess. You look hot either way, babe.”

✧ “Kim… remember our conversation about clear communication?”

✧ “Uh huh? But I did warn ya!” “We were literally talking about birds.”

✧ You snap a guys wrist without even looking, glaring (up/down) at Goo.

✧ The rest of the fight you ignore him. Your expression remains neutral afterwards as he takes you to the urgent care.

✧ “At least it hit you in the shoulder!”

✧ “Yeah- I wonder where it would’ve hit me if I had ducked.”

✧ “Stop being all calm and angry at me boo! It’s creepy!”

✧ “…Alright. Whatever Goo.”

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thegnomelord · 1 year ago

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Ripping the sheets at the thought of prompt #25 with Draconic Price with Mage!reader who can't handle alcohol that well ❤️‍🩹

Sure thing anon, sorry it took so long getting to your prompt 😅 Play the game HERE

Prompt: Drunken confessions

CW: SFW, GN reader, Monster AU, Gn Reader, Dragon Price drinking, drunk confessions, fluff.

To say you're a lightweight is to say the sky's blue. It's an endless source of amusement to the lads; all they have to do is sit back after a stressful mission, give you booze, and watch the fireworks — literally, when your magic sparks across the bar, little sparks crackling along the ceiling, growing wilder with each shot you take down.

Price smirks behind the rim of his beer as he watches you and Soap knock back shots of liquor in a drinking game, not even trying to understand the slurred tangent you're on; mages are nerds at heart, and the booze has melted your tough guy act and leaving you rambling on about the intricacies of magic. It's one of the things he likes about you, how passionate you are; a good treasure to keep in his hoard.

But Price figures it's time for you to go when you nearly set a trashcan on fire in the corner, your vision long since doubling, the alcohol burning in your mind so strongly a bit of your original eye color peeks out beneath the unnatural glow of mana in your eyes.

"Come on you muppet," He signs, tugging you up by the back of your clothing like you're a wet kitten. You whine and attempt to struggle, but his draconic strength far surpasses yours. "It's far past your bed time." He adds, a little rumble in the back of his throat making liquid heat pool in your belly.

"But captain-" You grumble, the world spinning like a kaleidoscope as Price pulls you out of the bar, enough sense in your brain to throw a middle finger at the rest of your team when they wolf whistle and holler.

"Not a pipe out of you." Price sighs, wing stretching out like a shroud around your back, trying not to pay attention to the way his draconic blood sings when you lean in close; trying not to think how well you fit against him, like a treasure he can hoard. "C'mon, I'll drive you home."

You mumble a few curses under your breath as he helps you into the passenger seat of his car, your inhibitions so lowered so that when he leans over to buckle your seatbelt you tilt your head, burying your nose into his neck and taking in his scent, the smell of musk and cigar smoke filling your senses. Price does his best to reign in his draconic blood, a flash flood of desire burning in his head.

"Easy there mage," He huffs and shakes his head, pushes you back into a seat with an amused snort, settling into the car. The drive back to base is like a blur to you, spent rambling about something even you can't remember as Price just hums in acknowledgement, occasionally having to swat away your wandering hands trying to grope his thigh.

Price has to carry you to your room as you're so drunk you can't stand straight, head nodding as you slowly fall asleep in the car before you even reach the gates. Price tries not to think of how well you fit in his arms as he hoists you up, holding you close to his chest. You head ends up laying on his chest, face buried in his neck.

"Hey cap?" You mumble against his skin, squirming a bit as he carries you.

"Yes?" He asks, heart beating just a little faster as you clumsily wrap your arms around his neck. You mumble something into skin, so soft and low even his advanced hearing can't pick it up, making his ears strain to hear you as he enters your room. "You need to speak up there, mage."

"I love you cap." You slur, so honest and loving, and Price nearly topples over, feet catching on a random piece of junk you've got strewn around your room. But you choose that exact moment to squirm and he ends up tossing you onto your bed, your hangs clutching him tight and pulling him down too.

"Fuck-you bloody muppet!" Price grows, shifting to put the tension off his wing from how awkwardly he'd landed. He attempts to get up, but you're stronger than you look when you want to be, clinging to him like a little koala with your arms and legs wrapped around him.

"Nooo-" You whine, burying your head into his chest, squeezing your arms when you feel his skin is as warm as yours, your mana and dragon fire so similar it's like there's no barrier between your chests. "Mhm, love you John," You say again, making his head short circuit for a few moments, draconic instincts sparking up, wing and tail wrapping around you.

"You-" He sighs as he catches himself, embarrassment blooming in his chest at how he's acting like a young welp. By the time he's calmed down, you've already fallen asleep and using his pecs like a pillow, snoring lightly as you drool over his chest.

"You. . ." Price hums, a small smile tugging on his lips. He shuffles in an attempt to get comfortable, your bed isn't made to house two people but you're cuddled up to him so closely it's like you two are one person. "Bloody mage." He huffs under his breath, his clawed hands carding through your hair, sharp fingers scratching your scalp.

A happy little rumble leaves his chest when you nuzzle closer, your body so warm thanks to the mana in your system. It feels. . . nice, more than nice, his draconic ancestry purrs in his ears and he pulls you closer so your head rests buried in his neck, your and his scents mixing together.

Chances are you won't remember any of this. Chances are you'll deny your words, say it was just belligerent nonsense. But for now you love him, and he leans in to nuzzle his cheek against your hair, big burly arms wrapping around your middle, whispering lowly in your ear— a statement. "Love you too, you muppet."

#Gnome's Prompt Game #cod mw2 #x reader #gnome correspondence #trinkets from the hoard #captain john price #captain john price x reader #john price x gn!reader #gn reader #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod modern warfare

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keirawantstocry · 10 months ago

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Hi im Back, 💋anon ,once again to inhabit your inbox Forever. I would like to say Yes Thank You Your So so so so good at writing. AHHHHH. I fully believe tubbo needs to be covered in blood on at least a bi-weekly basis. Once again, All The Kisses, we can also throw in a lil stabbin as a treat since you seemed to enjoy the killing (im tired tho so not Too Much)

Soooooooo, as the prompt, tubbo just sleeps, Everywhere, since dying. Hes just tired All The Time. the choco/horse pit, the wither skelly farm, spawn, On Top of Fit (and or others) but just like, On His Shoulders. Fit is Unbothered and keeps going like nothings changed.

Hope you have a good day! (glad you enjoyed the "kill me" part :> , and also that you Do Not Care how long these get, thats gen comfortin, I have Issues <3)

Hehehe kisses and stabbing? You spoil me hehe. and thank you so much <3 (i get it darling dw i dont mind how long or short these are <3)

They weren’t quite sure what to expect at first after Tubbo’s revival. Fit wasn't surprised about the aggression. Not in the slightest. After his very first experience with the respawning mechanics he woke up quite angry as well. But after the anger came… exhaustion.

Fit found him multiple times at spawn, at farms, dead asleep. He shook him awake every time.

“You can't be here. Just dangerous for you to be sleeping everywhere.”

Tubbo squinted at him, eyes half opened. “I'm tireddd,” he whined, slumping back over.

Fit sighed, before wrapping his arms around the boy's body and lifting him up. Tubbo dropped his head against Fit's chest and relaxed into him. “Mmm,” he hummed. “This feels better than the floor.”

“No shit,” Fit snorted. “Sleep okay?” Without another word, Tubbo's eyes slipped shut. Within a few minutes, even with the shuffling of Fit's movements, Tubbo was snoring softly.

It became routine to see them together. Fit working away at whatever he had to do, while Tubbo lay slumped over on his shoulder sleeping peacefully. Pac loved it. He would smile so gently at the both of them while prattling on about ideas he had for the house.

“Fitch, it's smart! We can build him a room with us, yeah? That would solve the problem of him just sleeping wherever he pleases. You can still carry him around but if you're ever tired then you can just sleep in the bed with him.”

Fit paused. “That is pretty smart.”

Pac grinned. “I know, I know.” He sprung up. “Let's build it now! A surprise for him when he wakes up.”

They finished it long before he worked up. Man, could that dude sleep.

When he finally awoke it was tight arms in a bed he didn't recognize. Blinking a few times he looked around the room. There above the bed was Pac, who smiled at him. “Hey sleepy head.”

“Hey,” Tubbo said softly, voice hoarse. He shifted his head to look at who was holding him and wasn't surprised to see Fit, dead asleep. “Where am I?”

“Our house,” Pac explained, sitting down on the bed next to him. “We build you a room that we can take you to when you're close to falling asleep places.”

Tubbo blinked slowly at him as his exhaustion began to creep into his mind once again. “Okay,” he muttered before holding out his arms. “C'mere. Cold.”

Pac laughed before obliging and curling up next to him, letting Tubbo wrap around him like a monkey. Pac fell asleep soon after joining Fit in slumber while Tubbo just relaxed in between them. For once he felt safe and warm. Warm in a way that transcended the cloudy warmth of dreams. He didn't sleep but by the time they did he felt truly rested for the first time since his revival.

#qsmp #my writing #fanfiction #poly morning crew #q!tubbo #q!pac #q!fit #fitpacbo #my favorite little guys #💋 anon

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denaliwrites · 1 year ago

Text

The Future Ex Mrs. Malcolm

Ian Malcolm x Fem!Reader

Catch and Release Prompt: "Service"

Summary: (18+) You weren't quite sure how the chaotician became famous, but you were starting to see how he got his reputation.

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Excessive use of filler words. Oral (f receiving). Age gap (only mentioned).

You were pretty sure, from the moment you first saw him, that Ian Malcolm was famous. Did you know who he was or why he was famous? Of course not. He just had an air of superiority about him that only came from spending an extended period of time in the spotlight.

Well, a spotlight, at least.

You later found out that his claim to fame had something to do with math and chaos -- he'd been all too eager to explain it to you, but to be honest, anything to do with numbers slid right off your brain, and his pretty smile didn't really do your retention capabilities any favors.

You first met him when he brought his perfectly ordinary, if a bit "Hot Rod"-esque, car into your dad's shop to be serviced. While he waited for your dad to finish fixing up the car, the two of you talked.

Well, more accurately, you flirted shamelessly with no parent hovering menacingly over your shoulders.

You rather enjoyed the flirtatious attention of the older man, and you suspected he probably liked the equally flirtatious attention of a younger woman.

The next time you saw him, he had a different car. It was new, but only in the sense of whose hand it'd most recently fallen into. It was certainly older in every other way, maybe as old as Ian himself, though none of the previous owners had taken good care of it. The shell was rusted, parts were damaged or missing, and the seats almost certainly had blood in them.

Fixing it was going to be a multi-visit affair.

And that was how you found yourself being serviced by Ian behind your dad's car service shop.

It'd started like any of his other visits. This was his sixth, overall, and the two of you were emboldened by the idea that your father hadn't caught on yet --

Well, you were emboldened. You were pretty sure Ian didn't need a reason to be, he was just like that naturally.

He'd come to your counter, as he always did, to buy a Surge he never actually drank. He'd flirted, as he always did, and you flirted right back, as you always did.

You mentioned taking a break, and he mentioned needing some air.

His Surge was left forgotten on the counter as he made his way out the back door. You followed behind five minutes later and found him waiting for you in a shaded corner where no one would see the two of you.

His eyes feasted eagerly over your legs, bare but for your upper thighs, though they were shielded only by the loose skirt of your sundress.

"Those, uh, go on for days, don't they?" he asked as he stepped nearer. Before you could respond, he swept you into his arms, and you couldn't help but notice that you seemed to naturally fit together, like puzzle pieces.

"I, uh, always wondered... what your, uh. Legs. Looked like," he continued as you were pressed to the wall and his mouth landed hot and heavy on your bare shoulder. "Could never really, you know, see them. While you were, uh, behind the counter."

You whimpered as his lips trailed down your arm a few inches, his heated breath leaving goosebumps as it dissipated over your skin and left only a cool reminder that he'd been there. "I-Ian," you gasped, a hand reaching up to weave into his curls. You tugged down, and he easily let you pull him away from you.

The smirk he shot you had you all but melting, and the growl that accompanied it had you all but quaking.

"Hey, uh, you're the one in control here," he said, though the smirk he wore made you think maybe he was the one that was really in control, he just happened to not mind much what he ended up doing with you, so he could afford to let you have the illusion of control.

Not that you minded, much. Either way, you were getting yours.

"Do whatever you want," you told him.

His smirk grew just a touch wicked at that. "That's a, uh, dangerous invitation," he said carefully, though you could hear the arousal choking his voice even so, "be careful you don't let any, um... vampires... in."

"Are you a vampire?" you asked.

"Maybe," he answered simply, before his lips were back on you, trailing ever downward until he was on his knees before you. "Oh, this is much better."

His breath teased your inner thigh, eliciting another whimper from you. Hearing the effect he had on you only made him do it more, and soon all you could do was whine desperately.

"Pretty, uh, sensitive?" he asked. All you could do was nod in response and gasp as you felt, more than heard, the dark chuckle that emanated from his throat.

He moved on, his hands splaying over your thighs and fingers digging in as his mouth moved over the tender flesh, all but worshipping you as he delicately lifted your left leg up and over his shoulder to lay gracefully across his back.

He had nearly perfect access to you, now, though your panties obscured his view. He didn't seem bothered, though, as his face disappeared under your skirt.

A moment later, you felt a finger gently brushing the cloth aside. You whined as it inevitably made contact with your slit, hips rolling eagerly for more.

"Ah, ah," he tutted, breath dancing over your slit drawing forth a moan. His growling chuckle only made you moan again. "Good girl," he said in amusement, his hands returning to your thighs to rub them comfortingly.

He gave the thick meat of your thighs a squeeze, and then you felt his hot mouth on you -- you choked back a yelp as his tongue teased at your clit, circling it a few times and flicking against it once.

To keep yourself quiet, you bit down on a curled finger, and to keep yourself grounded, you buried your other hand in Ian's curls.

This only seemed to egg him on. His tongue swiped swiftly down your slit and plunged into your cunt. Your teeth sank into your finger and the squeal that would've otherwise sounded instead died in your throat.

A breezy chuckle rolled over your clit as Ian drew back to lave attention on it. Your hips rolled in response, which only made him chuckle more.

You could feel your insides starting to coil, could feel the desperation building. Ian seemed to sense it too, as his ministrations became quicker and more precise. Every breath, every flick of his tongue and touch of his lips, had shifted from teasing to drawing out your orgasm.

You wanted to scream as one last lap of his tongue from hole to clit finally brought you over the edge, but you bit it down, even as his tongue continued to circle your little nub to ease you through the high.

To compensate for your inability to scream your pleasure, you tightened your leg draped over Ian's back, drawing him in deeper to your core. He didn't seem to mind, even as he found his mouth fuller than he anticipated, if the grin you could feel was anything to go by.

Gradually, and with Ian's expert guidance,, you came down. You panted and sagged against the wall once the post-orgasm fog drifted in, and Ian carefully eased your leg down so that he could stand and offer you support.

You could see your slick shimmering on his lips and mindlessly pulled him into a kiss. He eagerly returned it, hands holding you tightly to keep you close.

"Would you, uh... marry me?" Ian asked in a low whisper, his eyes meeting yours.

"Bit quick, isn't it?" you replied, though you were grinning.

He returned the gesture. "I, uh. Never was one for... moderation."

You were about to answer, but then you heard your father calling for you. You shot Ian an amused glance. "Guess you'll have to come back to get my answer."

"I. I, uh. Look forward to it?"

"Maybe you should come back with a ring. Just in case."

#ian malcolm x reader #ian malcolm x you #jurassic park x reader #jurassic park fic #jurassic park fanfiction #catch and release prompt #i had to google popular 90s drinks for this #because i was too young during the 90s to actually remember them later #a 90s kid in name only #more accurate to call me a noughties kid tbh

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