#prompt asks
Note
Hello, I absolutely adore your writing!
Can I please request Mattheo Riddle with prompts 1 and/or 20? Preferably a fluffy ending.
I would love to read this (but absolutely no pressure) so thanks in advance and I´m already looking forward to reading more from you!
(1) thank you so much 🥺 you are far too kind
(2)I couldn't think of a way for these two to be together so I decided to just make two different blurbs for ya
[20] “How long has it been since someone’s hugged you?”
You let out one continuous groan from the moment you walked through the portrait hole until you got to the sofas in front of the fireplaces. The only person in your friend group that was present in the common room was Mattheo. You dropped your school bag on the ground at his feet as you stood in front of him. He leaned back looking up at you from the couch, small smirk on his lips, “Long day?” You nodded, “Worst day so far ever.” He cracked his knuckles in a playful manner, “How can I help, darling? Need me to kick someone’s arse?” You shook your head, instead holding both arms out in front of you, making grabby hands toward him like a toddler. He quirked an eyebrow in return, “What are you doing?” You huffed out loud, “Hug me, Teo.” He waved his hand at you, “No, I don’t do that.” You slouched down on the couch next to him, a pout on your lips, “Theo would hug me.” “Then go find Theo; I don’t do hugs,” Mattheo rolled his eyes, picking back up the book he was reading before you walked in. You were slightly irritated now, Mattheo’s attitude adding to your bad day. You nabbed the book from his hands, him turning his head slowly to face you, face blank, “What do you think you’re doing?” You closed his book, sitting it on the opposite side of you, “How long has it been since someone’s hugged you, Mattheo?” He furrowed his brow, “I just told you I don’t do that.” You weren’t understanding him, “Are you saying you’ve never hugged anyone?” He sighed, lying his head on the back of the couch before facing you again, “I’m sure I have before, I just don’t remember the last time I did it, don’t really see the point. You’re just grabbing onto someone for like thirty seconds then letting go. How does that even make you feel better?” You shook your head in disbelief, getting up from the couch, “Stand up.” You pulled on his arm to follow you, “Stand up Mattheo, now.” He stood, rolling his eyes with arms down at his sides, “What are we doing?” “I’m going to give you a proper hug, and you’re going to understand why hugging is so important.”
He stood still, letting you maneuver his arms open as gave him instructions, “Okay, seeing as you’re like six inches taller than me, I’m going to wrap my arms around your middle. Then, you’re going to wrap your arms around my shoulders. Feel free to nuzzle your face into my hair, I used new conditioner this morning and my hair smells amazing.” He laughed softly at your instructions, reluctantly agreeing. You gave him a smile before taking a step closer to him, wrapping your arms around his middle like you said you would. You nuzzled your face into his chest, breathing in his scent of fresh earth and spice. It took Mattheo a moment to react before following your directions, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He buried his face into the top of your head like you suggested, taking a deep breath. You weren’t wrong about your conditioner, it smelled so good to him; like honey and mandarin oranges. You squeezed him a little tighter, and after a moment you felt him take a deep breath and pull you even closer. “Someone wake Salazar from the dead is Mattheo hugging somebody?” The two of you pulled apart quickly sitting back down on the couch. Mattheo’s cheeks dusted pink and Pansy and Theo walked up to you both. Theo looked almost offended as he sat down across from you. You shrugged your shoulders, “I had a bad day, you weren’t here.” Theo brushed it off, lightly teasing you. Pansy and Theo dragged on about how good their days were as Mattheo leaned in to whisper to you, “You know you have to hug me every day now.”
[1] “I like how good your hand looks in mine”
You and Mattheo laid on the couch in front of the fire. You were nestled in between his legs, your back to his front. You were playing with the rings on his fingers and you guys listened to Theo drag on about his latest crush. Mattheo was responding to him when necessary, but you were drowning him out. You were obsessed with Mattheo’s hands. The scars that ran along his knuckles from the many fights he had, the perfection of his tanned skin, and don’t get you started on his rings. The one on his middle finger was your favorite. It was a thick silver ring, with a signet of a snake on it. A dark emerald stone as the background to the serpent. You laced your fingers with his, your black manicure on display against the back of his hand. You felt him smile as he kissed your cheek, whispering in your ear, “You know I like how good your hand looks in mine.”
#prompt asks#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheo riddle x y/n#nonny bo bonny
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Nsfwhump prompts
Another darker prompt list, but tailored for nsfw applications. TW for guro, noncon, etc. Feel free to use!
Hurt them with:
☆ An object meant to pleasure
☆ Hot wax
☆ A knife
☆ Gravel or rock salt to kneel on
☆ Barbed wire
☆ A belt
☆ A gag or bit
☆ Clothespins or clamps
☆ A hand dragging them by the hair
☆ Steel wool or sandpaper
☆ A public display of humiliation or dominance
☆ Lack of preparation or lubrication
☆ Fingers digging into a wound
☆ A stress position
☆ Visible hickeys or bites
☆ A plug or vibrator to wear covertly
☆ Broken bones
☆ Dislocation
☆ Nipple or genital piercings
☆ A red hot brand or iron
☆ A cigarette ashed onto their skin or into their mouth
☆ Exhaustion
☆ Bathing or washing
☆ Overstimulation
☆ A boot or shoe stomping between their legs
☆ Thumbtacks, needles, or pins
☆ A fresh sunburn
☆ A cane or switch
☆ Penetration with an unconventional object
☆ Ruined orgasm
#my prompts#nsfwhump#prompt lists#whump prompts#nsfwhump prompts#prompt asks#not osha approved#today all i did was make lists#this is the nastier version for all my fellow sickos out there#breadcrumbs
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While I'm working on some projects in the meantime. Could y'all give me some prompts to eventually draw for Cotl 👉👈?
I'd love to hear what you have in mind!
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Yo I’m the girlie that wrote the two fics for The Blind Prince (webtoon) on ao3 - i want to write more but I’m also a victim of burnout SO if you have fanfic ideas just submit your ideas in the asks for me to write out
I do reserve the right to pick and choose and deny some prompts. 💀 I will NOT do nsfw.
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11 + 22 with steddie? please emily god of smut that rips my heart to shreds and carefully puts it back together again <3
hehehe hi lou!! thank u for ur request<3 hope u enjoy these silly lil men
11. Louder. Let me hear you.
22. Show me how much you need me.
cw: phone sex. word count: 1096. pairing: steve and eddie.
“Hello?” Steve answers the phone groggily.
“Fuck, did I wake you?” Eddie winces.
Steve hums, rubbing his eyes and sitting up more in bed. “S’okay, baby. Went to bed early tonight.”
“Now I feel like even more of an asshole,” Eddie laughs pitifully.
“Don’t. Wanna talk to you,” Steve answers.
“You sure?”
“Mhm. What’s on your mind?”
Eddie exhales. “Uh, quite a lot.”
“Tell me.”
“I don’t think you’re awake enough for this conversation.”
Steve’s eyes truly open at those words. “W-what? What’s going on?”
Eddie chokes and scrambles over his next sentence. “God, no, nothing bad, darling, I’m sorry, I just‒it’s funny really, it’s so unimportant and now you’re even more awake because I scared you when I’m literally just calling because I’m so hard I can barely think straight.”
Steve’s gut tightens at his words. They’ve never done this before. Eddie is on tour with his band, a small contract to a few neighboring states. If it goes well, they could add on more dates. Steve’s really proud of him and wished he could go but there’s no way he could ask for that much time off of work.
Steve did miss him though. Badly.
“Oh?” Steve teases, clearing his throat. “Can’t even think straight?”
Eddie makes a desperate noise that shoots down Steve’s spine. “No. I’m going crazy over here.”
“Needed my voice to get off?”
“Please.”
“Okay,” Steve adjusts himself on the bed, spreading his legs because now Eddie’s got him interested as well. “Were you thinking about me?”
Eddie sighs, petulant. “Yes, of course, I was.”
“Didn’t want to assume,” Steve retorts.
“Darling.”
“Right,” Steve says. “Thinking about anything in particular? Any memories stashed away?”
He can hear Eddie swallow.
“I kept thinking about…this is embarrassing, Jesus Christ, um. The summer you lifeguarded at the pool? You…saved Gareth from drowning one day. Do you even remember that?”
Steve racks his brain. His eyebrows shoot up and he lets out a small laugh. “You got hard over me and Gareth?”
Eddie groans. “No, not that. Never, ever repeat this to him. I was thinking about the red trunks you were wearing. How the sun made your muscles all…shiny as you carried him out. Please feel free to stop me at any time.”
“I didn’t realize I had fans,” Steve teases.
“Please, you had everyone’s tongues hanging out of their mouth that summer.”
“Did you wish it was you?” Steve asks.
“What?”
Steve's voice is husky as he says, “Did you wish it was you being saved? How I would’ve dived into the water, pulled you to my chest, and scooped you right up? Lay you out on the emergency board and hover over you? Put my hands on your chest and blow into your mouth?”
He hears Eddie’s breath hitch and a zipper being undone.
“Touching yourself?” Steve asks.
Eddie huffs. “Y-yeah. Fuck, yeah. Wish it was me.”
“Would you have kissed me back then?”
“I sure would have tried,” Eddie laughs weakly.
Steve smiles and slips his hand into his boxers. He’s slow with getting himself off, wanting to make this last until Eddie was done. He didn’t realize how hot it would be to hear his boyfriend panting over the phone, crackly but just as desperate.
“Those shorts were tight, huh?” Steve ponders.
Eddie whines. “You have no idea how good you looked in them. I have never been to the pool more times in my life than that god-forsaken summer.”
“Wish I’d known you back then,” Steve sighs dreamily. “I could have taken you to the infirmary room and locked the door.”
“S-Steve,” Eddie pants.
“Stroked your hair until you felt better. Checked your body for injuries. Maybe ask you to lower your trunks. You would’ve loved that, wouldn’t you, baby?”
Eddie moans quietly and huffs out a “Yes.”
“You would’ve been hard for me already from my hands all over you. I’d look up at you from the floor and lean my head forward. Taken your tip into my mouth, run my tongue all around‒” Steve cuts himself off with a moan as his hand squeezes his cock.
“Would you have told me to be quiet?” Eddie whimpers.
“Oh, absolutely. Can’t have us getting interrupted now, can we? For right now though…louder. Let me hear you.”
Eddie groans loud and deeply. Steve’s hips buck up into his fist at the sound.
“You’d just be squirming under me, yeah? Clutching the bed and biting your cute pink lips until they bled. I’d taken you deeper and deeper, making sure you feel cared for. Serving mankind or whatever the lifeguard’s oath says.”
Eddie laughs at Steve’s stupid joke but it slowly turns into a moan. “Miss your mouth.”
“I’m sure you do,” Steve grunts. “I miss your cock, baby.”
Eddie lets out a strangled noise that vibrates Steve’s skin. He can almost hear the slick sounds of Eddie’s hand stroking his cock. How he wishes he could watch it happen.
“Getting close?”
“Mhm. Keep talking.”
“Being the first cock I’ve ever sucked, I definitely would’ve taken you too deep. Choked on you. Gagged around you. You’d be so scared for me but I would just keep going. Sucking you down, down, down.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Eddie moans.
“Put your hands in my hair, make you grab onto me, guide me to whatever pace you needed.”
“Steve,” Eddie pleas.
“You need me bad, huh?” Steve smirks.
“So bad. Always need you.”
“Show me how much you need me. Come for me.”
Eddie does, speeding up his motions until he releases, groaning Steve’s name all the while. Steve bucks his head back into the pillows and comes with a long moan himself. There are no words over the line for a long while. Just the boyfriends' labored breathing as they came down from their highs.
“Feel free to wake me up for that any time,” Steve jokes breathlessly.
Eddie chuckles with a long sigh. “That was so hot. Why haven’t we been doing this the whole time?”
“We can certainly start,” Steve grins. “Especially if you got some treasure chest of Steve memories you want to cycle through.”
“I’m not gonna live this one down, am I?”
“Wonder if I have those trunks somewhere.”
“I’ll kill you.”
“You love me.”
“Crime of passion.”
“Me in my little shorts. Saving lives with the sun‒what did you say‒shining off my muscles.” Steve can practically hear the eye roll from the other side.
“I miss you,” Eddie whispers after a few moments.
“I miss you so much,” Steve whispers back. “Only a couple more weeks.”
“Stay on the phone with me while I sleep?”
Steve’s heart aches. “Of course, baby.”
come request a smutty prompt to silence the horrors for a minute<3
#asks#prompt asks#steddie#steddie smut#steddie oneshot#steddie fics#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#emily writes
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Pyrrha's feeling rather lonely. Man, woman, futa, or beast, meme or long. Give her some company?
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OTP Prompt Challenge request:
9. Morning Routine: InuKag
(I’d love to read some fluffy, domestic married Inukag morning routine bliss, but please write if/ as you feel so inspired ❤️)
Hello @xanthippe-writes ! Thanks for the prompt from this list.
This felt like it fit into my Bushel and a Peck universe so have some domestic morning routine. While not blissful, per se, it's fluffy and happy. And hopefully a bit real...
Fancy Cheese and Size Threes
“Don’t forget to grab diapers,” Kagome called from Sara’s room, the sounds of an angry baby not wanting their diaper changed following her words.
Inuyasha rolled his eyes in the mirror as his toothbrush hung out of the side of his mouth. He was trying to simultaneously wrangle curls into pigtails – Izzy’s current style of choice – and brush his own teeth while not dribbling on his shirt. “There,” he declared with a sigh, tugging on each one to pull them tight. “Go get your bag and your sweater.” Grasping the handle of his toothbrush, he got back to brushing.
“But I’m not cooooold,” Izayoi whined. Inuyasha paused in his brushing and gave his daughter a sharp look in the reflection of the mirror. She pouted, then turned on her heel to do as asked. He heard his wife cooing to Sara in order to distract her while trying to dress her. She’d hit the stage where she hated being changed in any capacity and tried to escape the changing table while you fought leggings onto her chunky little legs. “Daddy! I can’t find my sweater!”
“Nice try, pup. It’s on the chair,” he called back, spitting out the last of his toothpaste.
“Oh.”
“Uh huh.” He stepped out of the bathroom just in time to be handed an armful of squirming baby. “Well good morning to you too,” he muttered, dropping a kiss on top of her head. She squealed angrily at being restrained, little arms flailing.
“Here,” Kagome murmured. Her fingers swiped something from his face, then grabbed a towel just inside the door. “Toothpaste,” she clarified with a grin when he gave her a confused look. He sighed dramatically, then chuckled when she went up on her toes to place a kiss on his cheek. “Diapers.”
“I heard you the first time.” Inuyasha adjusted Sara in his hold to keep her from climbing over his shoulder. “She still in a size three?” Kagome nodded as she pulled socks from the top drawer and tried to balance on one foot to put each of them on before giving up and plopping onto the floor. “Anything else we need? The C word?” he whispered the last, glancing toward the doorway. Izayoi was in her room, presumably struggling her way into her sweater based on the sounds she was making.
Kagome grinned wryly. “Probably not a bad idea. Just don’t get the soft kind. She doesn’t like those anymore.” He nodded. No string cheese, only the sticks. Got it. “Can you grab a bottle of wine too?” He knew if he asked her what kind she would say anything was fine, but he would end up grabbing two and hope one of them was serviceable.
“I’ll even get us some of the fancy stuff and the you-know-whats you like.”
Kagome’s eyes glowed. “Can we watch that movie I’ve had saved for later?” Inuyasha pretended to hate the idea, but nodded anyway, a sly smile lifting his lips. Fancy cheese and cracker night was a long-standing tradition. Especially now with both girls, they rarely got the chance to get out for an actual date night, so an old romance adventure movie on the couch with “fancy” grocery store cheese and crackers was about as much of a date night as they could reasonably expect.
“Am I gonna be late, Daddy?” Izayoi called from her room. She had only minimal understanding of the clock, but knew that time was a factor in their day. Inuyasha glanced at his watch and swore under his breath. “That’s a bad word!” Izayoi scolded, sounding scandalized.
“Yea, yea. Just don’t repeat it. Bye. I love you,” he murmured, kissing Sara’s squishy cheek and handing her to Kagome. “You too.”
Kagome grinned as he pressed a kiss to her lips, snatching his collar for a moment to keep him there. “Love you. Fancy date night.”
“And diapers. I know.” He grinned, kissing her one last time, then went to scoop up the four year old. Despite her protests, she’d put on her sweater and had her little backpack strapped on her back, the clip done in front. “You’re gonna have to take that off in the car, you know.”
“I know. I don’t wanna lose it!”
“Kid, that would be some kinda skill to lose your bag between here and the car,” he said with a chuckle. Despite his teasing, he wouldn’t put it past her to set it down somewhere and get distracted. He asked her about what she planned to do at preschool today and she told him elaborately the picture she planned to color and the tower she wanted to build in the block corner because Joey – another hanyou child she seemed to have a love-rivalry relationship with – had knocked over her last one before it was finished.
As he was backing down the driveway, he looked up and spotted Kagome holding Sara, chubby baby hands banging on the window glass and a face that told him she was squealing with laughter.
“Wave bye to your sister.”
“Bye Baby! Bye Mama,” Izayoi called as she waved back. Inuyasha grinned and gave a little wave too, making Sara screech and smack the glass again. Kagome was barely holding in laughter and she wiggled her fingers to say goodbye as well. “Daddy?”
“Yea, pup.”
“When I’m bigger, can I eat fancy cheese too?”
Inuyasha nearly choked, then smothered a laugh so he could look at her seriously in the rearview. “Sure, pup. You can eat fancy cheese when you get older.”
“Good. I wanna know what’s so great about it. You and Mama never share.”
“Trust me, Iz. When you get older, you’ll understand.”
“You alllllways say that.”
“Yup. And it’s pretty much always true.” He shook his head and smiled, seeing the slight pout on her face. “Guess what.” Her ears perked up, her pigtails quivering behind them. “We have to stop at the store on the way home from school later. You want to pick out a treat for you and Sara?”
Her eyes got huge and her mouth dropped open. “Really?!” He nodded. She squealed in excitement, then stopped almost immediately as both their ears flattened at the noise. “Sorry, Daddy.” Inuyasha only reached back behind his seat and patted her leg. She still had a lot to learn about being hanyou, but she was learning, and he couldn’t be more proud.
#prompt asks#vignettes#dawnrider fanfiction#inuyasha fanfiction#inukag#inuyasha#kagome#bushel and a peck
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Rosekiller 51 for the drabbles please 🫶🏻
hi mar!
51. “What the hell are you wearing?”
“Huh?” Evan turned around slowly, acting as if he didn't hear Barty properly. It was bullshit.
“What the hell are you wearing?” Barty asked again, feeling less impatient this time. He never liked to repeat the words for a second time. What a waste of time.
Evan just shrugged, fully turning around this time. As soon as he did, Barty took a step towards him, squinting his eyes while staring at the shirt he was wearing.
“James Potter sucks,” Barty started reading, “but I suck better? What the fuck you were thinking?”
Evan smirked and waved a hand towards him, it was basically a white crop top painted with Gryffindor's insufferable colours and it was already giving Barty a migraine.
“Just stating the facts.”
Barty face palmed his face and grunted.
“You fuckwit—”
I didn't like this at all but here you go lol thanks for asking!
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Anything with TimDami & DickDami?? Maybe Dick (who's been slowly realizing his feelings for Damian) begins stalking him and stumbles upon Tim doing the same and they both are just awful about it lol
(Or Damian wakes up one night to him being touched by two sets of warm large hands all over his body and doesn't even think to fight and just relaxes)
dick has been trying hard to be subtle about his feelings. it helps that damian never suspects the hugs and little kisses to his cheeks and forehead could mean something more than just platonic. however, like with everything else about damian when it comes to dick, it's always encompassing and always at the forefront of his mind, until he couldn't resist following his baby bat around and admiring him from afar. he knew it was basically stalking - not his best moments for sure - but he could only use so many excuses to see damian without drawing suspicion to himself.
however, dick wasn't expecting to be met with competition.
in hindsight, he probably should have noticed how tim and damian rarely ever fought anymore like they used to. they regularly exchanged sarcastic barbs and banter now rather than brawling it out. see, dick was always proud of being the person closest to damian and knowing everything about him - yet somehow, he didn't know that he wasn't the only one who had fallen for the boy's compassion and beauty.
because right there, just across the block from where dick was watching damian inside a coffee shop, was tim.
like the idiot hypocrite that he was, dick immediately confronted his brother about what he saw later that day. however, he didn't even walk two steps into tim's room and froze at the big corkboard filled with damian's pictures and sticky notes. dick got a bad feeling and it turned into jealousy the more he reads every info tim has written about damian. turns out the other vigilante had been meticulously planning to snatch damian up for a while now.
not on dick's fucking watch.
he made sure to sabotage tim's notes and corkboard and leave behind a single piece of paper saying 'you're not gonna win his heart with this.' it was hypocritical of him, kinda, but now that he knew he somebody else was sniffing after his baby bat, no way was he going to stay idle.
this sparked a silent, vicious war between dick and tim afterwards, and indeed they were just awful about it until damian got fed up after he discovered their actions and went off the grid for an entire month.
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Hello!’, can I request Theodore nott, fluff and prompt 8 and 16! Please and thank you <3
8.Why do you always look at me like that?” “Like what?” “Like you… Want me.”
16.He doesn’t even deserve to be breathing the same air you are.
“Do you wanna tell your guard dog to stand down?” You didn’t even lift your head up from your notes, “What are you talking about, Adrian.” He tapped his fingers on the desk, beckoning you to pay attention to him, “I’m talking about Nott over there, he’s been glaring at us all class.” You looked up from your parchment, glancing across the room. For once in his life, Adrian Pucey was correct. Theo was glaring in your general direction, but he wasn’t looking at both of you, he was only looking at Adrian. “Seems like it’s only you he’s glaring at,” you turned back to your notes. Pucey groaned in annoyance, “Can’t you tell him to stop, write him a note or something, I can’t focus when I feel like he’s plotting my death.” “Nope,” you popped your lips.
After class you grabbed hold of Theo’s elbow, dragging him to an empty corridor ignoring his protests along the way. “What the hell is your problem? You know I’m partnered with Pucey in potions by force. You don’t have to death stare us.” Theo crossed his arms in annoyance, “He doesn’t even deserve to be breathing the same air you are.” While you couldn’t argue with him, the arrangement wasn’t really your choice. You mirrored Theo, crossing your arms as well and staring at him. His expression softened, eyes meeting yours with a glint of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
He looked at you like that a lot now that you thought of it. In the common room, after a quidditch game, at parties when he’s had one to many. “Why do you always look at me like that?” Theo blinked a few times, trying to change his expression, “Like what?” You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, “LIke you…want me or something. You do it a lot. You got a crush on me, Nott?” You were only teasing, but the pink tint to his cheeks and his awkward silence gave you your answer. “Oh, Theo, really? H-how…for how long?” He shrugged his shoulders, "Dunno...like, year three." You slapped his arm, "Theodore! We're in year six!" He rubbed the back of his neck bashfully, "Better late than never, yeh?"
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sebmark the mummy au 💖
helloo thank u for the prompt! i haven't watched this movie since i was a wee child and i've been on the revenge of the mummy ride too many times to count so it was fun to see actual clips again and reacquaint myself w canon... here we go!
-- CAIRO, EGYPT : 1926 - A GALLOWS COURTYARD
"You fucking liar," Mark seethes under his breath, though to little effect; his intended audience is remorseless, and anyone else who'd care is on the other side of the world. Ahead of him, the prison warden takes his sweet time to lead them onward towards their target. "Dig down in Thebes, my ass."
To his side, Jenson shrugs. "So I made a mistake, big deal."
"You lied to me." It bears repeating. "Christ."
"Just Jenson."
Mark shoots his supposed best friend a glare drier than the air scratching their lungs. "Don't get cute—you stole an artifact from some stranger."
"And if it worries you," says Jenson, slow-like, "I actually picked his pocket."
"That's the same damn thing—!"
"We're here," the warden cuts in, stopping to open the large, imposing door before them. "Visitors."
With another hasty glare sent Jenson's way, Mark nods sharply at the warden, and steps into the visitor's pen. If he needs to take charge here, so be it. "What is he in prison for?"
The warden snorts. "What isn't he in prison for?"
... which doesn't help in the slightest. But before Mark can press, the interior cell door flings open, banging noisily against the wall as their target is dragged into the room, heavily chained.
"Ah," he remarks flatly. Everything makes sense with stunning clarity, now: their target is a dishevelled kid, some street nobody and common criminal. Jenson probably did him a favour, taking a priceless artifact off his shoulders.
Then, the kid looks up—and Mark reassess. Still a street nobody, still a common criminal, and young, but definitely not a child. There's a haunted arrogance to the harsh set of his brows, the sneer curling his bitten lips. He'd be handsome, if not for the filth and the bruises: electric blue eyes, a mop of curly blonde hair, and though the rest of him looks hungry, he's soft at his cheeks.
"Ah," he imitates. His tone is disgustingly saccharine. Mark decides that he does not like this stranger. "What's a pretty man like you doing in a place like this?"
Mark promptly corrects himself: he really doesn't like this stranger.
"Pretty man?"
Jenson lets out a guffaw, the unhelpful bastard.
"Smile more," the target drawls. "You're less pretty when you talk."
Behind them, the warden clears his throat. "I'll be back soon."
"Please," calls the target. "Oh, I long for your retu—!"
It's over before Mark can process it, the swift way one of the guards slams the stranger headlong into the bars. There's only a flash of pain across his face; then the sneer returns, more pronounced than before.
Beside him, Jenson looks completely stupefied. Mark forces his feet forwards, and crouches by the bars until he's eye-level with the stranger.
"We found your puzzle box," he explains. "Can we ask you some questions about it?"
The target blinks slowly, a picture perfect look of innocence. "Who's asking?"
Mark glances up at the guards, who have stepped back a pace, but their expressions are inscrutable. "I'm Mark. My research is on Ancient Egypt, and I'm on loan at the Egyptian Museum. My partner there," he jerks his head up in Jenson's general direction, "is Jenson."
"Well," sniffs the target. "If we're doing pleasantries."
Jenson chooses this moment to finally speak. "We know who you are, Doctor Vettel."
Whipping around, Mark fixes the other man with the millionth glare of the day. He didn't know that. What's some street scum doing with a doctorate degree?
"Please," Vettel scoffs. "Don't Doctor Vettel me. You're the man who stole my map, aren't you?"
At the very least, Jenson has the decency to look away. "I might have let my hand slip."
Vettel turns his gaze on Mark. Up close, his eyes are really quite unnerving—calculating, like he's constantly sizing them up. "You don't know where it leads," he starts. "I do. It's not a place for tourists."
"We do too," Mark snaps quietly, eyes flitting towards the guards again. "We need to go; we just don't know how to get there."
"Need," repeats Vettel. "That's a funny word, for something as desolate as sand and death."
The creak of the visitor pen door opening has Mark leaning against the bars, his voice hushed and hurried.
"Will you tell us how to get there? The exact location?"
Vettel leans closer too, pulling on his chains. "You want to know."
"Yes," Mark snips, all too aware of the warden entering the room.
"You really want to know?" There's metallic clinks as Vettel tenses against his restraints.
His face is so close to Mark's. His breath is vile.
"I think we're out of time," Jenson pipes up nervously.
"Yes," Mark repeats emphatically, hissing as he leans impossibly closer so that he can hear even the quietest of whispers—
and Vettel kisses him.
Square on the mouth.
It's not a nice kiss by any means. There's no finesse, nothing except the lick of Vettel's tongue against his bottom lip and the dry press of their lips. It's complete and utter shock that drives Mark to kiss him back automatically, to let his mouth slip open—
"Gorgeous," Vettel rasps, pulling away as the guards behind forcefully reel him backwards, and Mark isn't sure if it's a nickname or a sarcastic observation of the state of things. "Then get me the fuck out of here."
"Wait." Dumbfounded, Mark licks his lips, before scrambling up into action, turning towards the warden. "Wait. Where is he being taken?"
The warden simply smiles. "To be hanged."
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How about cal n Boba for number 14 on ur prompt list, crunchy snow walking?
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Prompt: looking down to a countryside road going towards a tuscan rustic house on top of a hill. poster illustration in the style of Hayao Miyazaki, Al Parker, Jon Whitcomb, Austin Briggs, Coby Whitmore, Joe De Mers, Bernard d’Andrea.64K --ar 9:16 --stylize 1000
#midjorneyart#midjourney#concept art#commercial illustration#ai art#scenery#prompt ai#prompt midjorney#prompt idea#prompt art#prompt asks#countryside#nature aesthetic#illustration#artwork#poster art#poster
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9. “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” for steddie muhaha
YOU'RE FUCKING EVIL AND I HOPE THIS BROUGHT YOU AS MUCH PAIN AS IT DID ME!!!
pairing: steve and eddie. word count: 1064. cw: hospitals, drowning, head trauma. hurt/comfort bc alex is evil.
“You’re really fucking stupid, you know that?” Eddie says.
Steve doesn’t respond.
“You could have been killed,” Eddie says.
Steve doesn’t respond.
“I mean…I know why you did it but damn it, baby, this is why they have lifeguards,” Eddie says.
Steve doesn’t respond.
Eddie sighs and scoots his chair closer to the bed. He takes one of Steve’s hands in his own and tries to be mindful of the IVs punctured into his elbow. It’s cold, lifeless. Nothing about Steve is ever cold. He’s always the one running too warm. Touching an icy Steve Harrington palm feels wrong.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie whispers. “I shouldn’t be…mad at you. But I need something to be mad at and you’re asleep so…” Eddie gives a weak, wet chuckle.
“Well, I hope you’re asleep. I guess that’s kind of what comas are. An intense, knock your fucking lights out sleep. Maybe I should be angry at those assholes on the boat.” Eddie rubs his fingers over the bones of Steve’s hand. “You’re safe now, though. There are so many doctors and machines here to help you. They’ll…they’ll help you and I’ll be here when you wake up. I will tell you so many bad jokes and get you hospital Jell-O and maybe I can get Robin to bring some tapes from Family Video.”
Steve doesn’t respond.
Logically, Eddie knows he won’t. It upsets him nonetheless. He intertwines their fingers and softly pushes Steve’s down so they’ll curve against Eddie’s knuckles. He lifts the conjoined hands to his mouth and kisses them softly. Then he groans and pathetically chuckles again.
“Oh gross, I got snot on your hand,” Eddie whispers. He finds some tissues on the bedside table and wipes it off. “Here I was trying to have a moment and I ruined it by being a blubbering little baby.”
Steve doesn’t respond.
Eddie doesn’t know what he’s waiting for. Maybe that secret little smile Steve has when he’s trying not to laugh at Eddie’s antics. Maybe a roll of his eyes. For this day to start over and none of this to be happening.
But he doesn’t get any of that.
His body is trembling now, subtly shaking Steve’s hand as well. Eddie’s staring at his face, half of it covered in various bandaids, ointments, and a big, thick gauze wrapped around his forehead. His hair trapped underneath. His lips are chapped and the bottom one is split in the corner. There’s no color to his cheeks. His summer golden tan looks dulled here.
Eddie can hear the machines beep. He knows that means Steve is still alive. That this is the absolute best it’s gonna be for a while. It doesn’t add any comfort.
“God damn it,” Eddie croaks.
He has to restrain himself from physically shaking Steve awake like he would if they were in his bed right now. Or Steve’s bed. And the alarm clock is droning on and on but it sits on Steve’s nightstand so Eddie can’t snooze it without crawling over him. Steve would groan and try to encase Eddie in his arms while Eddie laughed and fished his arm out to shut the horrid machine off. Eddie would end up laying on Steve’s chest, his head burrowed in Steve’s neck, and laying practically his entire weight on him. Steve says he likes this. Eddie knows he has to be crushing him. But if it means he gets forehead kisses and sleepy boyfriend mumbles then he’s not going to fight it.
“Baby, you need to wake up because I can’t do this without you,” Eddie cries. “I don’t want a world without you in it. The kids don’t want a world without you in it. Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, Joyce, Hopper, god damn it, baby, please.”
Steve doesn’t respond.
Today was supposed to be a fun day at the beach. The summer of ‘87 has been all sorts of draining because everyone (minus Erica) was working their asses off at their minimum wage jobs and begging for a day off with their friends. So, the older squad rounded up the teenagers in various cars and headed to the beach. Max was finally walking again and practically buzzing to swim in the ocean again. Steve went out with her, swimming beside her as she sat on a surfboard they rented from the shop down the way. They kept wading further and further out but Steve was on the swim team. That man can swim better than anyone. No cause for concern.
Until Max went to stand on the board. The whole gang was cheering her on and Steve was holding up his arms for her to use as leverage if she needed it. Max’s smile was bright and shining as she got herself up and held her balance.
Then a fucking speedboat was showing off, doing circles and circles and creating harsh waves that weren’t there before. Steve yelled at Max to sit back down but she assured him over and over that she was fine. She could handle it. Seconds later, she was knocked off the board. Max could walk, sure, but she wasn’t back to swimming. Steve dove for her immediately, wrapped her in his arms and tried to surface. The waves were relentless and the two of them just kept getting swept under.
The gang was swimming out to them, screaming and flaying even as the lifeguards waved a red flag to signal that everyone get out of the water. Steve managed in a brief second to hoist Max up onto the board to which she clung for dear life. The waves caught Steve again and he didn’t resurface for several seconds. By the time the lifeguard on the jetski got to him, he was unconscious and bleeding out the back of his head. Apparently, he hit it on the board in the tumble. Max was conscious, coughing, and throwing up water but Steve was out cold.
Eddie holds their conjoined hands to his forehead as he bends over in an overwhelming sob. He’s mumbling “Please, please, please, please, please” to a God he’s not sure he believes in. Behind his eyelids, he’s trying to picture happy memories with Steve. Trying to project them onto the universe and plead for them to become reality again.
In all his hysterics, he doesn’t register the slight pressure on his hand.
Not yet opened his eyes, not yet conscious, not yet a person, Steve manages to squeeze back.
Steve responds.
request a prompt here <3
#asks#steddie#steddie ficlet#steddie fics#prompt asks#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#emily writes
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A special #Thirsty Thursday! Inspired by @flannelfangirl last year, I'm going to ask for you to send me a number 1-100 and a pairing and I'll scribble out something small (a vignette if you will) that matches the vibe of the song from my Spotify Wrapped for the pairing suggested.
Think of it as an extended #Music Monday. 😂
You are also more than welcome to send in the usual #Thirsty Thursday requests/questions.
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54
54. “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. That’s the problem.”
“You have changed,” Regulus muttered, “It's like you started hating me at some point.”
James closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He put the glass on the shelf after drying it, trying to control his actions. He wasn't willing to start a fight but he also wasn't going to end one if Regulus wanted to do it instead of him, either.
“I don't hate you, Reg,” He said, “I could never hate you. That's the problem.”
Regulus shut his eyes and stayed like that for a few seconds. James wanted to reach and stroke his hair, pulling them aside by the tip of his finger. He wanted to palm his face and kiss his eyelashes. He wanted everything and nothing at the same time.
“Why does it have to be a problem?” Regulus spoke finally.
James closed his eyes and opened them slowly, “Because,” he said, “The more I love you, the less I love myself.”
not sorry for the angst lol
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