#Ian Malcolm imagine | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

toomanybandstocare · 2 years

Text

{When You Have a Migraine}

Program: Headaches. Migraines. Searing pain. It just shuts you down for the day and forces you to bedrest. Tucked away from the world and wrapped in a bundle of cool pads with blankets. This is the only time that Ian Malcolm is quiet and tender with how he carries himself.

Pairing: Professor! Ian Malcolm x GN! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Headaches/Migraines, Reader has hair, Swears, Pet names (Sweetheart, Doll, Baby, and Honey)

Counselor Notes: I have a migraine rn, so i want to be held softly :( kind of goes along with this thought i had as well as this one. Not proofed bc i have a migraine rn and my eyes feel like they're gonna explode.

Camp Isla Nublar Masterlist

Ian is already up when the sun begins to rise to get ready for his day of lectures and meeting at the school. Already a cup of coffee in and has a second one in hand with lesson materials in his other as he climbs back into bed. His morning ritual is nothing without you curled against his chest and sleepy morning kisses.

But when 8am rolls around, and he knows he needs to head out soon, worry stings at the back of his neck when you haven't woken up yet.

Gently carding his fingers through your hair, Ian's eyebrows scrunch together when you wince. Bleary eyes shy away from the soft sunlight pouring in through the sheer curtains.

"What's up with you, huh? Look like you haven't see the sun before," he lightly teases. But there's a small waver in his voice, and the normally confident man is so afraid to raise his voice louder than a light mumble. "Migraine," you hum against his chest.

Mans is frozen with panic, but he's not going to let you know that. You're the one in pain, so for once his fucking life, it's not about him. He knows that whenever you say that word, you're down for the count and there's nothing you can do but wait it out.

And he hates it.

Ian Malcolm is a problem solver.

He fixes things using theory, practice, and applied critical thinking.

For fuck's sake he's a doctor in mathematics specializing in chaos theory teaching at a prestigious university.

For fuck's sake, the man survived a dinosaur island that tried to kill him.

But your migraines?

He'd rather be back on that island, because he hates how helpless he feels seeing you reel in pain.

Because there is very little he can do to make it go away.

So Ian Malcolm goes above and beyond during your days of bedrest.

The only time Ian leaves you alone is when it's to get supplies, make you food, and cancel his classes. That's it.

"I'll be back in an hour okay, sweetheart?" he calmly closes the curtains and then lightly pads your forehead wrinkles. Your weak whine, either of disagreement or acknowledgement, breaks his heart.

His first stop is his university to quickly tell the department's admin to cancel his classes for the day. "No, no. You don't understand- Fucking, I don't care alright. One cancelled class is not going to put them behind for the semester".

Then it's to the corner grocery store, and let me tell you.

This man is intelligent, educated, well knowledgeable on many topics.

But he's so out of his element in the store and what would help. The first time, he nearly bought out the med isle because he didn't want to miss anything that would help.

You're still working through all the bottles of medicine and pain relief from that first trip.

But now? He knows exactly what to get and what isle it's in. God help him if the store changes up their layout So he's in and out within 30 mins with two bags of extra care filled with:

Your favorite tea- both caffeinated and non-caffeinated

A bag of chocolates and some bananas- magnesium helps headaches (it actually does, so a good tip for any of my head pain duderinos, the nurse told me when i had a concussion)

Cooling pads

Bath supplies- bath bomb, salts, a bouquet of flowers to decorate the water with

A light scented candle

Electolyte drinks

A new pair of fuzzy socks

A new bottle of nail polish

Mass paperback copy of a light hearted adventure novel

After becoming familiar with your likes and needs for headache days, Ian knows exactly what will make your day just a little more bearable.

And for the rest of the day, Ian Malcolm strips himself of his usual bravado and lowers his voice.

Lays in bed with you while reading the adventure novel. His heartbeat and soft, gravelly voice lull you to semi-consciousness.

Makes your tea to your order and also has a travel cup with a straw filled with the electrolyte drink. The small shakes that rattle your arm from bone pain makes holding anything a challenge. So he holds the travel cup straw to your lips or helps you sit up for a tea break. Snack bags between your legs as the two of you quietly discuss the book.

If your bones are really achy, he'll ask you to take off your clothes as you see comfortable to massage your body. Rubbing his finger tips carefully and tenderly against any sore spots. Pressing his palms into the planes of your back and shoulder blades. Squeezing your neck and helping you roll out your muscles. Just to get you to move a little throughout the day.

If you're feeling sleepy and want to doze for a while, Ian quickly dusts off a classical vinyl record and puts it on to listen to. You cuddle up on his side and press your head against the crook of his neck while he grades papers or reads a new article.

Ian is incredibly caring and soft during these days. Normal teasing phrases like "I get that I'm irresistible, doll, but I didn't realize just how needy you are for me" are exchanged for doting sentiments such as "How's my baby feeling? I'm sorry you're going through this, honey. What can I do to help you?"

Meals are simple and homey. Whatever will soothe your stomach and mind is on the menu. Ian rarely cooks, so the sight of him cooking shirtless in your apartment always sends a warm flutter of bliss through you. If you're up to it and make your way over to him, you find yourself wrap in his arms and pressed against his chest. His chest vibrates as he hums along to the record.

Puts on a bath and pours in salts or a bath bomb. His hands grip your hip so securely to make sure you don't fall getting in from not moving around much today. Ian sits on the ledge of the tub to pour little cups of water over the back of your head to at least wash your hair with water. Runs a wash cloth over your body with his body wash to clean you up a bit and care to any tender spots with additional mini-massages.

Ian places you on the couch before bedtime, so he can strip the bed and put on new sheets. Fluffs the pillows and remakes the bed, so it's fresh and free of sick day energy.

"Thank you," you sleepily mumble, tucked under his chin as you lay half on him/half on the bed. Legs a tangled mess. His hands trail over your body trying to ease you into the land of dreams. "Anything for you," Ian presses a kiss to the crown of your head, "I love you so goddamn much. There's nothing I wouldn't do to make you happy and safe".

314 notes · View notes

ssadumba55 · 1 year

Text

Masterlist: Jurassic Franchise

All my Jurassic writing will be linked here!

Imagines full one shots of all your favourite Jurassic characters

JURASSIC PARK

Ian Malcolm Burden (Gender Neutral Reader) Love Finds A Way (Gender Neutral Reader)

THE LOST WORLD

Ian Malcolm First Choice (Gender Neutral Reader) Weak (Gender Neutral Reader)

JURASSIC PARK 3

Nothing Yet

JURASSIC WORLD

Nothing Yet

FALLEN KINGDOM

Nothing Yet

DOMINION

Nothing Yet

Headcanons Headcanons related to Jurassic Franchise and characters

Owen Grady and Dinosaur! Reader (Gender Neutral)

#milo's masterlists #jurassic park imagine #jurassic park headcanons #ian malcolm imagine #ian malcolm x reader #owen grady imagine #owen grady x reader #alan grant imagine #ellie sattler imagine #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader

97 notes · View notes

raz-writes-the-thing · 4 months

Text

Unpredictable // Chapter Two

Ian Malcolm x Original Female Character / masterlist / read it on ao3

Chapter Summary: Alan, Ellie and Lyanna meet key investor John Hammond who has an interesting proposition for the three of them...

Unpredictable tag list: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

When the helicopter didn't land a safe distance away from the uncovered dig, Alan, Ellie and Lyanna began to panic. Lyanna and Ellie shot off towards the dig and Alan took off to, well, take the head off the pilot, if Lyanna had to guess.

While Alan ran towards the landing chopper to get them to shut down the machine that was blowing sand all over the place and damaging the finds, Ellie and Lyanna ran to cover the historical site as fast as they could.

"Cover the site!" Lyanna all but screamed, reaching the area. She skidded to a stop, crashing painfully down onto the ground and reaching for the plastic tarp designed to weather winds and storms. The fossils may be stone, but they were easily damaged. Pain shot up her legs and she knew she’d have some very impressive bruises later on. With a quick readjustment of her positioning, she got to work.

She pulled the tarp over the fossilised bone as fast as she could with the help of some of the other volunteers. They tied it safely down to make sure it wouldn't fly off when Lyanna removed her hands. Ellie winced as sand whipped sharp as glass against her bare arms.

After the dig was secure, Lyanna stood up and strode over towards Alan and Ellie's RV, angry as she’d ever been. Landing so close to a valuable dig like this one- she could understand if it were an emergency, but as far as she knew, no one had called for emergency services.

By the same token, however, Lyanna knew that they didn't get all that many visitors this far out of town, particularly in the dead of Summer as it was right now, so whoever it was and whatever they wanted, it had to be either incredibly good or incredibly bad.

She practically jumped up the few sand-worn steps and all but yanked the door off its hinges in her haste to get inside and get to the bottom of what was actually going on here. Frustration coloured her cheeks, and there was sand in her eye that she couldn't rub out because the rest of her was also, surprise surprise, covered in sand, too.

"Alright. Who's the stupid fuck who-" Lyanna was cut off by her uncle who raised his hand in alarm, silently telling her to shut up. Lyanna clenched her jaw but did as she was told, glaring daggers. She'd definitely grown up with her mothers' temper.

"Ah, this is Lyanna Grant, my niece and one of our best," Alan said hastily, clapping a hand on her shoulder to knock her out of her stupor. Lyanna forced herself to wipe her angered expression from her face and pressed her lips into a tight smile.

"Lyanna, this is John Hammond," he said with an edge to his voice that stressed that Lyanna needed to be nice to the man before him. Lyanna had to think for a minute to figure out why that name sounded so familiar to her.

"Oh,” she said, realising who the elderly man was. "Oh my god, I am so sorry about how I behaved just now," she apologised profusely, doing her best to dust off her hand on her jean shorts before shaking his own. An embarrassed flush appeared over her cheeks, forced smile turning awfully sheepish but no one was able to tell through the dust and grime coating her skin.

John Hammond was one of the main funders of their digs. He paid fifty thousand dollars a year to keep Alan’s projects from becoming bankrupt and essentially abandoned. No one said archaeology was an abounding field, unfortunately. Digs needed investors, and investors needed money.

Lyanna noticed that the old man had opened the bottle of champagne that the three of them had been saving and she frowned, though quickly covered it back up with a bashful expression. Given that he was currently funding their careers, she supposed he was entitled enough to their celebratory bottles if he wanted them.

"Would you like a drink?" He asked her, raising the bottle and smiling. Without waiting for an answer, John fussed around the kitchen, getting Lyanna a glass of the sparkling liquid. She took in his appearance. He was wearing mostly white which she thought wasn’t such a good idea in the dusty Badlands. It would only take about five minutes before his pristine clothes were a sandy yellow. But that wasn’t her business, and she doubted a man like him would want to stay long enough to get his hands dirty anyway. Not that Lyanna would complain. Who liked having their bosses boss around?

"I'm sorry about the dramatic entrance," John apologised, interrupting Lyanna’s thoughts and handing her the glass, "but we were in a rush." Lyanna set her jaw. In such a rush they couldn’t land on the designated landing strip, it would seem. Then again, he paid for the circus so she supposed it was his prerogative to damage the lions if he wanted to.

"I've read your book, Lyanna. It was very thorough and informative," Hammond continued without waiting for a reply, lifting a finger from his glass to point at her.

"I aim to please," she smiled, unsure of where he was going with this, but still honoured to know he’d put the effort in to read her work. Always good to meet a fan, as they say.

"Yes, well, let's get right down to business," he paused, taking another sip from his glass. Behind her, Lyanna saw a flash of Ellie's blonde hair. She hadn't realised that she had joined them inside. Perhaps she'd only just got there.

"I like you. All of you," he paused to look at the three of them individually.

"I own an island off the coast of Costa Rica. I've leased it from the government and during the last five years, I've been setting up a biological preserve of sorts. Really spectacular. Spared no expense," he smiled wide, showing them his yellowing teeth. Lyanna fought the urge to squint suspiciously at the man. This was great and all, but if he wanted them to know about his new island, he could have sent an email.

"It makes the one I've got down in Kenya look like a petting zoo. And there's no doubt that our attractions will drive kids out of their minds," he exclaimed excitedly, not taking pause to note their hesitantly curious expressions.

"What are those?" Alan asked, resting his hand on his knee.

"Small versions of adults, honey." Ellie sarcastically whispered to him in answer. Alan gave her a look before turning back to John.

"We're planning to open next year but that's if the lawyers don't kill me first," John chuckled, rambling on. "I've got a particular one at the moment who's being a thorn in my side. He represents my investors. He says we need outside opinions," John shook his head irritably.

"What kind of opinions?" Lyanna asked, crossing her arms and taking a sip of her drink, becoming more interested in the old man's rambling by the second. What could any of this possibly have to do with their dig?

"Well, your kind, not to put too fine a point on it," he shifted his weight and took another sip, swallowing before he continued. "Let's face it, in your particular fields, you are the top minds- and if I could just persuade you to sign off on the park, give it your endorsement..." he trailed off for suspense.

"I could get back on schedule," he finished, eyes flashing between the three dusty scientists before him.

"Why would they care what we think?" Ellie spoke up. At that, Lyanna raised her eyebrow. It was a fair question. Was it some sort of reptile zoo? Or a fancy museum? But then why would either of those need to be on their own secluded island?

"Yeah, what kind of park is this?" Alan added. They were both good questions. Ones that Lyanna had been wondering herself.

"It's right up your alley," John said conspiratorially, a knowing smile growing across his cheeks. That piqued Lyanna’s interest. Up their alley? They were palaeontologists... up their alley were dusty bones and fossilised remains... Maybe it was a museum then.

"Tell you what. Why don't the three of you come down for the weekend? I'd love to have the opinion of an extra palaeontologist as well," he said, gesturing to the three of us.

"I've got a jet standing by at Chateau," he explained, jumping onto the bench behind him and pouring himself another glass once he was seated.

"I don't know. I mean, we just dug up a new skeleton..." Alan trailed off, understandably hesitant. On top of that, they had only just met the man in person as well.

"I'd fully compensate you by fully funding your dig..."

"This is a very unusual time too..." Ellie added, looking justifiably unsure.

"For a further three years," John finished.

Lyanna turned to Ellie and Alan and seeing the hesitant but excited looks on their faces, she knew that Hammond had won them over. Money was an extremely powerful persuasion tool. And archaeology digs were expensive. Soon enough they were bound to run out of fresh-faced volunteers looking for a fun time.

They began to jump and laugh excitedly. Ellie turned and gestured for Lyanna to join them.

"Oh no. I'm not the hugging type," Lyanna tried to reason, the infectious joy eating away at her resolve. Ellie didn't listen though and brought the both of them to Lyanna who chuckled and joined the group hug.

After the excitement dissipated, Lyanna escaped the tight hold that the two of them had on her and turned back to Hammond, who was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"When's the plane leave?" she grinned right back.

#unpredictable #Ian malcolm #ian malcolm fanfic #Ian Malcolm fanfiction #Ian Malcolm imagine #jeff goldblum #jurassic park #jurassic park fic #jurassic park fanfic #jurassic park fanfiction #ian malcolm x ofc #ian malcolm x original female character

13 notes · View notes

thingscanalwaysgetworse · 8 months

Text

Thinking about the Ian/Ellie/Ian reunion through a romantic lens. Spending decades trying to convince themselves that they didn’t miss each other and then they meet up and it’s like?? Alan and Ellie are already gazing at each other like long-lost lovers. When they walk into Ian’s lecture, he pauses and looks like his world has just shifted on its axis. Ellie and Ian always had something going on between them but now Alan’s realizing that his own feelings for Ian are maybe less platonic than he thought. And then later they’re all bickering lovingly like they’ve been married for years. I’m unwell

#dinot3 #palaeocule #Alan x Ellie x Ian #alan grant #ellie sattler #ian malcolm #jurassic world dominion #Jurassic park #rambles from the ether #I know I’m fudging a bit with the bickering lovingly part but hey maybe it happened offscreen. I can dream #none of this is canon anyway but yeah just #look look look #I know that canonically there’s nothing going on #but it’s fun to imagine an alternate universe where they’re just trying to act super casual about seeing each other again #but internally they’re like ‘oh I missed you so much’#something about the first movie being right person wrong time #but then finally thirty years later it’s the right time #(but they’re too scared to do anything about it until Ellie kisses Alan and gets the ball rolling lol)#anyway.#I love a ship that’s funny and tragic and sweet all at once #(tragic bc of all that lost time)#i'm so sleep deprived sorry lol #this has been sitting in the drafts for a little bit #releasing it into the void now

80 notes · View notes

run-clever-boy · 21 days

Text

Stolen Glances Pt. 1 - Ian Malcolm

@toomanybandstocare - thank you for the wonderful prompt!! Totally taking you up on it [Prompt Here]

Professor!Ian Malcolm x Student of Professor!Fem!Reader

Warnings: None! (Wine?)

Summary: Your father invites his colleague over for dinner and he turns out very different than you expected.

“Dr. Y/L/N!” The man said, walking into the room confidently with a bottle of wine in his hand.

“Professor Malcolm! A grand entrance as always!” You hear your father say from across the hall. You put down your book and walk into the kitchen of your home where your father and- who you were assuming was- Dr. Malcolm pouring wine.

Dr. Malcolm was an interesting man for sure, however his appearance was not what you first noticed. He had a commanding presence, but not threatening. His confidence and charisma radiated off of him. He seemed to know your father well enough to throw out some simple work anecdotes, but nothing of any more substance.

Your father finally noticed your presence in the kitchen and gestured you into the room further.

“My goodness, excuse my manners Ian! This is my daughter, Y/n” Your father says cheerfully. “Y/n, this is Dr. Ian Malcolm, a colleague of mine!”

You reach out and shake his hand firmly and he gives you a small nod. “She happens to be in your particular field of study I believe, Ian!” Your father chimes in.

You turn toward him. “What field of study do you teach, Doctor?”

“I am a man of theoretical mathematics, more specifically… uh.. the amazing possibility of.. um.. chaos theory!” He smiles brightly “Do you happen to be a student of.. uh.. theoretical math Y/n?”

“I’m actually not very familiar with theoretical math, however I am interested in the theories surrounding it. Currently, I’m pursuing the study of general, or to you more practical, mathematics at the university” You reply. “So you study the work of Edward Lorenz?”

He looked stunned for a moment. He had barely known anyone interested in chaos theory in his lifetime, and an undergraduate student was talking about Edward Lorenz, the inventor of the theory he bases his life’s work on. He practically grinned from ear to ear as he looked you up and down to evaluate you.

“See Ian, I told you she was something special” Your father said, beaming with pride. You put on a faux innocent expression and simply said “What?”. Then you made eye contact with the professor.

Just then is when the weight of his appearance hit you. His eyes bored holes in yours, sparkling with curiosity. He was dressed all in black attire, a button down and slacks from work you were assuming, except the top few buttons on his shirt were undone and his sleeves were rolled up. You could see the chain he was wearing around his neck under his shirt and the many rings he had. His dark framed glasses slid down on his nose so you were looking right at him, his dark curly hair hiding none of his face.

Your faux innocence faltered severely, causing a shy smile and a large blush to creep up on your cheeks as you broke eye contact and looked down at your shoes. You heard him chuckle slightly from in front of you and then finally raised your head back up to look at your father.

“So,” you said “what’s for dinner?”

“Steak dinner tonight Y/n, only the best when we have guests over!” He laughed heartily.

“Please, don’t go through trouble for me-“ Malcolm started

“Nonsense!” Your father interrupted. “We have to celebrate anyway, dear Y/n is starting her last year of classes before she is off to graduate school this week as well, it’s no trouble at all!”

“Congratulations!” Professor Malcolm said looking over at you again. “That’s a big achievement to make it this far.”

“Well thank you, Dr. Malcolm. I got my schedule today and I think you will be pleased to hear there may be a theoretical mathematics course on my roster. My father said he wanted to go over it with me anyways tonight.”

He looked you straight in the eyes again and your heart sped up. It was difficult to keep eye contact with him for a long time. He was a man that practically screamed intelligence and power, and for the first time in your life you couldn’t get enough of it. The magnetism alone took you completely by surprise.

“Well don’t just stand there! Dinner’s about ready, why don’t you go get your roster from your room and bring it down here for afterwards.” Your father suggested.

“Happy to, be right back.” You said and you swiftly exited the room.

You went to your room and grabbed the Manila envelope off of your bed. Y/N Y/L/N was printed in big bold letters on the front. You turned and exited your room to walk swiftly through the hallways back to the kitchen. You suddenly saw a shadow round the corner just before you bumped into it and jumped back, startled.

“I’m so sorry, truly, I.. uh.. apologize” You hear, realizing it’s only the professor you nearly walked into.

“No worries at all sir, I just got startled” You say with a breath of relief.

“No need to call me sir, Y/n. Dr. Malcolm is fine, but please just call me Ian, if you’re more uh comfortable with that.” He said with a smirk playing on his lips as he pushed his glasses up.

“Well Dr. Mal- sorry, Ian, thank you for coming.”

“Please is mine. Your father sent me to get wine glasses, do you uh know where those might be?” He asked, leaning against the wall he was next to.

“First cabinet down this hallway, there should be 3 perfectly clean glasses on the left.” You replied.

“Thank you, uh, very much”

You make your way to the kitchen and meet your father’s giddy smile.

“What do you think of him?” Your father says.

“He seems intelligent, good humor I suppose.” You put forward attempt a nonchalant tone. “He’s quite the personality”

“He may be your professor someday Y/n! Wouldn’t that be lovely!” You hear him giggle. Your father was always happy-go-lucky, but he always seemed especially happy when company came over.

“All good things I hope?” You hear from behind you.

You turn to face the voice that rattled you. You discover Ian leaning against the door frame with three glasses in his hands. His glasses slide down his nose and you look into his eyes through them, having to look up to be able to see his tall frame. He flashes you a wink when you linger on him a little too long and your face heats up wildly.

“Always” You hear your father say.

You take the glasses from him and set them on the counter next to the bottle of wine he brought over. You feel heat rise up from behind you as Ian reaches over you to grab the bottle of wine and uncork it. You have seriously never not been able to control your impulses and thoughts, but something about him breaks down every barrier.

~~~▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄~~~

You get through the delicious dinner with nothing more than slight glances over the table and his occasional smirk. You got to discuss some theory with him, which was a great experience. Discussions of the major influences of current mathematics, difference in theoretical vs. practical statistics, other things you had been learning and studying for your many years of university.

You finally got to discuss the schedule for your next year of classes with your father, but he insisted that Dr. Malcolm stay to give you advice for your last semester. It wasn’t a horrible idea in concept, actually you would’ve normally appreciated the opportunity, but the man in question was driving you crazy and you couldn’t understand why. While him leaving meant you would probably never see him again so you could focus, you really wanted him to stay. No one had ever made you blush like he did and you wanted to get to the bottom of why, Even if it involved getting a drink or two with him.

“Euclidean Geometry with a Dr. Hack, Probability in Statistics III with a Dr. Brown, and-“ Your father paused “Application of Chaos Theory with our very own Dr. Ian Malcolm! What a coincidence!” You father beamed out with joy, lightly tapping you on the arm.

“Well you will be one of my most interesting, uh, students, Y/n.” He said, looking you in the eye. “I’ll be seeing more of you then?” He added, leaning in.

“Let’s see where it goes, Dr. Malcolm” You say, bolder than you meant which immediately causes you to shrink back. He gives you an all knowing smile, looking right through you.

For once, you were excited for school to start again.

Tags from the comments of the prompt post: @melonpire @datrie @druigswh0ree

#ian malcolm x reader #ian malcolm #jeff goldblum #jurassic park #ian malcolm imagines #jurassic park fanfiction #love this movie #fanfic #fanfiction

16 notes · View notes

wild-lavender-rose · 2 years

Text

Ian Malcolm drabble #1

Prompt- “How could you let it get this bad?”

“Okay, honey, easy,” Ian laid you down on a counter in the lab, the flickering lights above revealing the obvious attempts you had made to bandage the gashes in your legs.

“Ian,” you sat up and gripped his arm as the raptor growled outside the door.

“It’s okay, the door is fingerprint protected. Last I checked raptors cannot grow hands.” Ian paused for a moment. “At least I don’t think they can.”

You whimpered as the pain grew worse, fingers digging into his arm.

Ian snapped out of it. “I’m gonna take off these bandages now,” he muttered, fingers fumbling as he pulled off the first of the crude bandages.

Ian’s breath stuttered at the sight. “How could you let it get this bad?”

“I didn’t have a choice! It was either this or be eaten!”

“Understood,” Ian scrambled around to find a med kit, setting it down by your legs. “Gee, if you sounded any more upset I’d call you an ex Mrs. Malcom.”

“If we get out of here alive you can call me anything you want.” You bit back a cry of pain as he pressed a bandage to one of the more severe wounds.

“I like the sound of that,” he muttered. “Only one thing.”

“Yeah?”

“I’d never call you ex, because I’d do everything in my power not to lose you.”

Fanfic Masterlist

#Jurassic park #jurassic world #ian malcolm #ian malcolm x reader #ian malcolm x you #ian malcolm x y/n #jurassic park imagines #jurassic park ian malcolm #jurassic park ian #jurassic world ian malcolm #jurassic world ian #jurassic park fanfiction

323 notes · View notes

bonkwosher · 1 year

Text

OHMYGOD I HAVE POLLS

I'm gauging interest for which I should write this weekend & requests I should prioritize in general! Requests are still open too if you want to request more!

30 notes · View notes

multimuseficreblogs · 2 years

Text

❅ misc. movies ↳ including the maze runner, knives out, jurassic park/world, pirates of the caribbean, triple frontier, five nights at freddy's, jennifer's body and more to come ❅ misc. tv shows a-n ↳ including american horror story, criminal minds, euphoria, the mandalorian, and more to come ❅ misc. tv shows o-z ↳ including outer banks, stranger things, the last of us, the vampire diaries, the originals, wednesday, the witcher and you (netflix) and more to come

68 notes · View notes

revrads · 1 year

Text

6 characters played by Dominic Keating!

I think they'd all be assholes to each other, especially Ian

Bonus doodles:

#star trek enterprise #malcolm reed #desmond's #the immortal #buffy the vampire slayer #jungle 2 jungle #chromiumblue.com #dominic keating #fanart #digital art #artwork #art #artist #doodles #artsy ari #((The Dominic Keating cinematic universe is real))#((They'd bully each other. They're actually assholes to each other))#((Ian looks like an actual paintbrush))#((Blair has Big Skill Issue. Imagine being turned by a vampire who's locked up. Biggest skill issue))#((They're all very gay btw. Especially Tony and Owen. fruitiest mfers. Malcolm is closeted))#((Malcolm is the only functioning adult. the others are actual babies with less than half a braincell))#((Mallos is an asshole but he gets bullied the most. 800 years he spent trying kill a single dude and he still fails. cope + skill issue))#((Tony is the only sweetheart in this scenario and even then I think he'd still be an asshole))#((I love when Dominic Keating plays non-human characters who are also mean. It suits him very well with the charm and snark))#((I'll probably do more since there's so many lmao))

15 notes · View notes

zafirosreverie · 2 years

Text

Jurassic Park/World characters

Ian Malcolm

You're just messing with me

Ellie Sattler

Not today

Someday

Today

Zara Young

You have done it before

Fascinating

68 notes · View notes

toomanybandstocare · 2 years

Text

{Getting Through the Day}

Program: The first day of the new school year and semester sits heavy in you. Scorching heat from the summer heat wave and Ian's fleeting touches drive you insane through the day. All you can do it throw it back at him and hope to last until you can escape to his apartment for the weekend.

Pairing: Professor! Ian Malcolm x College Junior, GN! Reader

Genre: Slowburn NSFW, Requested -> Minors Do Not Interact

Length: 6394w

Warnings: Pet Names (Honey, Sweetheart, Baby, Brat), Light impact play (happens once), No genitalia mentioned with reader, Grinding, No protection, Ian mocks reader to tease them, Fingering, Making out, Swears I think that's it but lmk if I missed anything

Counselor Notes: Thank you for my first request!! I'm pretty happy with how this turned out :) This sort of goes along with this thought I had and happens later in the time line. I'll explain better when I actually start writing my Professor! Ian Malcolm stuff.

Camp Isla Nublar Masterlist

Your chest heaves with every step you take as you rush from one building to the next to make it to your next meeting in time. Clutching on your bag’s strap, you hurl yourself across campus as flowers bloom across the small gardens and classmates lounge on the grass. Why did they insist on meeting in the campus center when you shared class not an hour earlier in the same building you were just in? You huff and shake your head in frustration as you near the center, tunnel vision locked on the doors where students, faculty, and staff flow through. Of course your second class would run long the one day you’re back to back with meetings and classes.

Determination fuels your speed as you round the corner to navigate closer to the entrance. Nearly there, just steps away, when a strong chest blocks your path and sends you fumbling backwards. Anxiety flares as you try to catch your balance, books and papers flying out of your hands. The warm smell of smoke and leather engulfs you when the person wraps their arm around your waist.

“You alright there, kid?” Ian’s voice hums lowly as one hand supports your lower back. His palm presses into you to hold you up and sends warm waves across your body.

“Yeah, thanks Dr. Malcolm,” you mutter. Trying to catch your breath, Ian’s growing smirk leaves you even more lightheaded than the collision. Tiny tingles nip at your skin where his fingers dig into you. You wet your lip before darting your nervous gaze to meet his amused look, “I’m sorry for knocking into you- I’m running late for a capstone meeting”.

You shift your weight from one leg to the other when Ian drops down to the ground and peers up at you behind his sunglasses. Gathering your spilt papers, Ian’s shoulder momentarily grazes against your leg when he rises. His hot breath fans across your jaw when he leans down to your ear, “Now, I’ve seen you go dumb, honey. Need you to be on your best behavior if you want to come over tonight”.

Lightly dropping your papers into your outreached hand, Ian’s dark eyes peer over his glasses as he addresses you: “It’s not like you to be so distracted. Be careful where your head’s at, alright?”

Motioning for the other professors to move forward, Ian sneaks a small squeeze to your shoulder. His touch ignites bristles of sparks to span across you and only intensifies when he shoots a cheeky wink at you when he follows his colleagues.

You have to bite back your smile as you fall slightly behind the group. Finding your footing once more, you make your way to the center’s entrance and hurry to catch up as Ian holds the door open for the faculty. Just as he’s about to enter himself, you press past him in the doorway. Your free hand lingers against his lower stomach, and you can feel his breath hitch under your light touch.

Craning your neck to look at him over your shoulder, you shoot him a teasing smile. “Thanks, professor. It’s so kind of you to always lend a,” you pause slightly and watch his jaw clench, “helping hand to students”. You laugh as Ian shakes his head in disbelief and follows you into the building, just one step behind you.

Before you both part ways, Ian brushes past you and mutters low enough for you only to hear, “Behave”.

Watching Ian’s back walk away, you press your thighs together trying to relieve the growing burn stirring inside you. This was going to be a long day, and it’s barely approaching mid-morning. You will yourself to walk up the side staircase as your thoughts race causing a flush to burn across your skin. A night with Ian Malcolm leaves little and everything to the imagination all at once.

Maybe, you wouldn’t even make it to the bedroom this time as the two of you put on a show for anyone who looks out their window and catches a glimpse into his apartment living room. Curtains wide open without a care for anyone who could easily watch as Ian leaves his mark on your neck and pulls a devastated moan from your lips when he moves away. Splayed out on the couch as he throws off his jacket and settles between your legs, pressing searing kisses from your hip bone down your thigh and ghost over your pubic bone.

Or would it be a rendez-vous of fleeting touches? A soft night of featherlike touches tracing the planes and dips of your body while worn record plays in the background. Both of you pull each other as close as possible to feel how you fit together perfectly. Quiet begs for more mix with groans of admiration as you take him so well. His treasure, kept hidden away all for himself to enjoy.

Your body light burns in excitement as the possibilities float through your mind, unable to pull yourself away to join your group’s discussion as you sit down with them. It’s not until the faint snapping sound jolts you from your daydreams, that you recognize everyone’s concerned gazes face you. “Sorry, stuck in my head,” you weakly deflect and clear your throat, “What’s up?”

“We were just asking if you had any suggestions for the project? Now I’m worried that you're getting sick though, you look like you’re on fire,” Laura explains, lowering her hand from your ear.

Your cheeks burn as embarrassment and lingering anticipation mix in your stomach, “‘S fucking hot out there, and I hauled ass to try to get here on time. Didn’t do me any good as I nearly took someone out when I ran into them. I promise, I’m good,” you vaguely deflect, “Frat flu has not got the best of me yet”.

Everyone groans and chats about hangover cures as well as home remedies they swear fixes frat flu like nothing else. Taking a deep breath, you slide further into your seat and chuckle under your breath. No way in hell Ian Malcolm was going to be the death of you. You can’t feed his ego that much.

The morning slowly creeps forwards towards lunch time and every tick of the clock makes you squirm in your seat. Your leg bounces as your feeble attempts to end the ongoing debate about what archaeological dig your group will focus on for the semester. Ian only has so much free time when you’re both on campus, and you weren’t going to let a dragging battle of intellect get in the way of seeing him.

“Okay,” you rest your hands on the table and stand up to direct everyone’s attention towards you, “Clearly, this isn’t going anywhere, or at least not if we keep going at it like this. I propose a vote. We’ve already done the pros and cons of each site, so everyone is well aware of what each would entail in regards to research topics”.

You look around the table, leaving no room to disagree, “I’m getting fucking hungry, and trust me. You do not want to see me hangry. So, votes for Chichén Itzá?” You raise your hand alongside three bashful hands raise, and you nod your head in acknowledgement. “And votes for Domus Aurea,” you follow. Laura shares a small waze as the sole supporter of this site. “Alright, if we don’t get our first pick, are the rest of you okay with choosing Domus Aurea as a back up?”

“We can rank Caral as our third interest as well,” Marcus suggests as Katherine and Neo agree.

“Perfect,” you exclaim and hurriedly grab your belongings, “Now, if you’ll excuse me”. You rush out of the common space and fly down the staircase to make it to Ian’s office in time before his next lecture.

Breaking through the campus center doors, you run past the herd of oncoming traffic as the class hour ends. Shuffling feet trip you as backpacks bump against your shoulders. You push through the crowd and run past the humanities building with its tranquil fountain. The science building stands proud amongst the club tables calling over students to find new recruits. Rounding the corner, you see the mathematics building come into sight and pick up your pace. You launch yourself past all the idle students blocking the entrance and rush down the stairs to the faculty offices. The closer you get to seeing Ian, the more your stomach twists and tingles. Giddiness puts a leap in your step as you finally reach the warm, oak door adorned with a golden nameplate: Dr. Ian Malcolm, Mathematics and Chaos Theory.

You knock on the door and relief floods you when Ian’s muffled voice calls you in. Stepping inside, you’re greeted by the familiar bookshelf walls and teetering piles of paper on the floor. Ian has his head in his hands leaning on the desk directly in front of you with rays of afternoon summer streaming through the window wall behind him. Although you’re buzzing from his presence once again, concern crashes down onto you.

“Ian,” you call out as you carefully walk towards the arm chairs just before his desk. You place your bag onto one of them before you hesitantly move around the desk to get closer to him. Slowly reaching your hand out to see if he’s okay, your stomach drops as Ian pulls you into his lap suddenly. The room fills with your shrieks and his laughter as you try to escape his hold.

His arms securely wrap around you and hold you tight against his chest as he looks up at you with a cocky smile. “Well, if this isn’t a lovely surprise,” he drawls. His arms relax as his hands slide to rest on your hips and greedily squeeze your body. His fingertips dig into your skin and reignite the spark teasing your body.

“Ian, you asshole.” you push against his shoulders and arch your back away from him. A small whimper breaks past your lips when you push against his lap. “Fuck, I was worried,” you swallow as his lips trail acros your collarbone. Shutting your eyes, you let his touch take over you completely. The coarse calluses that tease your skin underneath your top. How his jeans send shockwaves through you as he manhandles you. You can feel the faint outline of his prideful smirk when he presses his face against the crook of your neck.

“How mean of me,” Ian mocks you, “Been good so far, honey?”

His hands guide your hips to slowly rock against his lap while he sucks a mark on the sensitive spot on your neck. Ian scatters scorching kisses up the column of your neck and lightly bites down where your jaw meets your ear. Dragging a small moan from you, Ian darkly chuckles and nudges your cheek with his nose.

“Asked you a question, sweetheart,” Ian pulls you harshly against the growing outline of his bulge.

“Yes, fuck,” you gasp. Your eyes fly open and meet his curious gaze. Fucking asshole thinks he has the upper hand- think again.

“My project group is annoying as shit,” you hiss as you grind down on him. Ian’s hands grip you harder as he groans. “They spent two goddamn hours arguing over what site to research for the semester,” you gasp when he bucks into you, “Only to meet a majority vote on the first site I brought up”. You move your hands to tangle them in his hair and tug on it. His moan courses through you and grows as you speed up your movements. “I swear to fucking god, Ian, I’m going to lose it if I have to make every fucking decision for this class,” you pant against his lips.

“Good thing I’m here to help relieve some stress,” he breathes out chasing after your mouth. Desperate for a taste.

Your legs start to shake as you near your ogasm, and you can’t help but give into Ian just a little. Selfish to feel his lips on your own after so many days apart. His teeth clash with your own as the two of you fight for control. Your mind feels hazy from the overwhelming heat stinging you.

Ian paws at your hips trying to hold himself back and reign you in. Normally cool and collected, desire makes him a mess underneath you. He growls into your mouth as he ruts up into you. His hard on presses against you and hits you with pangs of pleasure. Your content noises spur him further to push each of you over the edge. The small touches from this morning did nothing but linger in the back of his mind. Teasing him as he imagined how nice you would look on your knees for him underneath the conference room table during his meeting.

Ian hastily pulls at your waist band, “How about it, honey? Gonna let me take care of you?”

Just as he’s about to pull the button free, you push yourself off his lap. Breathing heavily, you look down at him in fake care, “You have a one o’clock meeting, Dr, Malcolm. I would have to make you late”. You laugh at his wide eyed shock as you straighten your clothes. Ignoring the pleading voice begging you to go back, you walk over and grab your back to make your leave. “I know how embarrassing it is to walk into a meeting late and all pent up,” you tease and look at him over your shoulder.

Ian leans forward his chair completely captivated by your fighting words. “Sweetheart,” he warns, wetting his lips as he takes you in. Hickies paint your neck so nicely as your shirt wrinkles at the hem. He watches as your chest hastily rises and falls, but the movement of your hand catches his attention. Darting his eyes to meet your fluttering lashes, Ian slightly raises out of his chair ready to chase after you if he has to. His stomach burns as need takes over his sense of control. No longer concerned about how he looks, Ian just needs you bent over his desk if he’s to get through the rest of the day.

“Be good for me, alright?” you tease and quickly exit the office, slamming the door as fast you can. Barely hearing the rush of footsteps behind the door, you take off to make it to the campus cafe. Hypersensitive to everything around you, your mouth slightly waters at the thought of what tonight will bring.

When you exit the math building, the heat sits heavy on your skin as the afternoon sun beats down on you. You quickly walk over to the library and hum at the sweet relief from the AC as it greets you. Only one more lecture to get through for the day, and then you can head to your apartment to get ready for tonight.

Yet, your mind wanders further away from campus and into Ian’s cozy, hidden apartment as the minutes slowly dwindle in the dusty lecture hall. Doodling in your notebook, thoughts of take away choices preoccupy your attention rather than the enticing voice of Dr. Jones.

“But it seems as though my stories of lost civilization can’t capture the attention of everyone,” his pointed joke breaks your daydream.

Your wide eyes peer down the lecture risers to meet your professor’s stern look. Shrinking into your chair, you send him a sheepish smile. Dr. Jones smiles and shakes his head ready to continue his story when the bell trills against the chalkboard walls. You quickly shove your notebook and supplies into your bag as anticipation spurs you into action, but you at least attempt to listen to the last minute homework announcement.

“Alright, I know it’s Friday, and everyone has somewhere to be,” Dr. Jones’ voice shouts over the room’s hustle, “But remember that your capstone proposals are due next Wednesday. It’ll be a cold call to determine order- be thankful I told you that much”.

Your skin feels hot and tacky as you try to make your way through the hoard of students trying to escape campus for the weekend. Ian’s last remark echoes in your mind as classmates chatter about their plans. You huff at how slow everyone seems to be moving even though excitement pulses through the air. The electric energy only seems to stoke the pent up desire that stings your core and clouds your mind.

“And I know it will be difficult to pay attention in a Friday afternoon course, but please try to do your best,” Dr. Jones reminds the class, “This is your second capstone requirement. A requirement to graduate next year”. His gaze locks onto your bashful figure trying to hide in the small waves of students.

The throngs of students pushing and bumping into each other in the hallway as everyone hurries to get ready for evening plans. A date night with their partner at the college diner. Football game under the stadium lights with adoring fans and a pep band performance. Perhaps, a risque hook up that sets the tone for a weekend hidden away. Just as you're about to enter autopilot to weave your way through the changing empty spots in the crowd, a light tap to your shoulder draws your attention behind you.

A wide eyed boy nervously shifts in front of you and looks to be struggling with something. “Everything okay?” you ask and try to keep your tone even. Even though eagerness clips your words, you know it’s no reason to be rude. “Dr. Malcolm said to come find you and tell you that he said he had to move your meeting to the lower courtyard. Said it was a waste of a good day to stay inside,” the underclassman mutters before scuttling into the crowd.

Turning on your heel, you backtrack past your lecture hall and launch yourself against the flow of traffic. Your feet slap and trip over the stairs as you fly down to the lower level that exits to the courtyard. Bursting through the door, the late afternoon sun tickles your cheeks and the floral aroma of the gardens gives you a slight lightheaded high. You look from side to side as you walk closer to the courtyard parking lot. It seems as if the humanities department clears out almost strictly up top.

“Over here, sweetheart,” his voice lightly calls out.

Whipping your head where the voice came from, your smile blooms when you see Ian leaning against his red Pontiac. His arms open to invite you to your weekend getaway and send you running. Throwing yourself into his chest, you press yourself as close as you possibly again.

The warm, black button down scratches your cheek when you nuzzle against it. His belt buckle bumps into you as Ian shifts to hold you more comfortably. One of his legs pushes between your own to support and tease you. His skin slightly damp from the ruthless sun shining down onto the two of you. Ian trails his nose across the crown of your head before pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. Tingles and heat send dizzying ripples through your head.

“Got you for the whole weekend, yeah?” he trails more kisses down the side of your head and murmurs against your ear.

“All yours, baby,” you hum, “Today, this weekend, and everyday yet to come”.

“Then I get to take my time with you tonight,” he nips at your lobe. Pulling away, Ian smirks down at you. The sight of your flushed expression unapologetically taking him in sends Ian into a flurry of emotions. Pride swells in his chest as devotion twinkles in his eye. Wetting his lips, Ian forces himself to breathe when you trail your fingertips down his shirt’s button and rest on his leather belt. “Time to head home, honey,” Ian pats your bum and opens the passenger door for you. Once you settle in your seat, Ian shuts the door and walks over to the driver’s side to join you inside. Turning on the car and pulling it into gear, Ian rests one hand at the top of your thigh and rubs light circles into your leg as he steers the car off campus.

“So what happened with your capstone?” Ian grunts and turns out of the lot. He shoots you a knowing smile and squeezes your upper thigh, “You’ll have to forgive me, sweetheart. I was a bit distracted last time we talked”. His words make the air hot thick.

“I, um,” you swallow hard when Ian’s fingers dance close to your crotch. You can feel his fingernails drag up your leg slowly as his hand bumps into your lower stomach when the car goes over the speed bump. “I basically had to force my group to use their brains when they seemed concerned about proving they had any,” you breath out.

Ian laughs, not out of commiseration, but in pleasure. Seeing you squirm in your seat just from a small tough, he’s desperate to get you home. “Good thing they have such a smart groupmate then, huh?” he mocks and presses his hand between your thighs. He knows that he is giving you enough relief when you bite down on your lip. “Keep going, honey. I know you had Indy’s class today for capstone as well,” Ian applies more pressure where he cups you, “I know you’re so tired from using your little brain today, but you know better. Rock your hips, baby”.

“Ian, please,” you whine as you shamelessly rub yourself against his hand. At this rate, you don’t care if any of your classmates see you on their walks home. Everything, but Ian’s touch slips from your mind as the outside world blurs past you. His touch causes warm washes to crash through you and tingle all over your body. Feeling his hand sharply come down on you, you let free a broken moan.

“Almost there, sweetheart. Keep going,” Ian encourages, but an edge in his voice makes you shake.

“Couldn’t pay attention,” you shyly mumble. Your legs squeeze around his hand as you hang your head. The additional friction causes you to throb against his hand and pathetically grind down. Your climax stings as it builds when Ian lightly traces his fingers across you. Then he digs into you and presses the heel of hand hard against your bucking hips, nearly stopping you. “Fuck, I know,” you plead with tears threatening your lashline, “He called me out for it twice, and ‘m not even that embarrassed about it. ‘S just syllabus week, and I’ve been-”. You bite down hard on your lip from slipping too much. Ian’s already proving his point that he’s the one in control. That he has you wrapped around his finger. But you weren’t going to so easily admit that you were left helpless after a fleeting touch and a few buzz words.

Ian looks over at you through the corner of his eyes and sees just how much of a mess you are. Your chest heavy as you try to catch your breath. Wrinkles crease your forehead from chasing your high. Thighs twitching against his warm hand when he moves in the slightest. His mouth runs dry at the beautiful sight. “Just that you were a fucking brat all day and couldn’t deal with it?” Ian hums. Focusing on the road, he counts down the apartment numbers in his head. Just one more block. “That you couldn’t pull your mind out of the gutter long enough to listen to your advisor. It’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long with how dumb you get, sweetheart,” he muses. A smirk pulls his lips into a mean expression feeding off the weak sounds coming from you. His hand aches as you use him for your own pleasure, but that won’t last very long once you get home.

“How close?” he demands.

“So close. N-nearly there,” you stutter against his hand. Arousal burns everything you touch and makes the building pressure unbearable. “Ian, please. I know I was a brat-” you plead.

“You really are dumb, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Ian laughs. “I was going to play a little nice if you were just playing dumb,” he emphasizes, “You shouldn’t have confessed, sweetheart. Innocent until proven guilty, right?”

Shaking under touch, you can barely understand what he’s saying. Barely recognizing the dark tone in his voice. All your attention focuses on tipping yourself over the edge as your body shutters. Your legs burn from sensitivity and desperation. Shoulders tingle in anticipation. Any thoughts in your head leave, as your mind becomes hazy.

“I-I’m not dumb,” you pant. A few stray tears bite your hot cheeks.

“Then use your pretty little head and walk”, Ian pulls his hand free and puts the car in park.

“No,” you shout and whip your teary gaze to meet Ian’s challenging look.

“Last chance to pull yourself together, brat” Ian quirks his eyebrow before exiting the car.

The fire licking at your skin starts to sizzle as you try to catch your breath and sniffle. Your mind can’t even process what just happened, you’re too far gone. A muted click vaguely registers in your mind as you gather your bag and slip out the car door. Knees wobbly, you have to lean into Ian to stand up properly.

“Got ya, honey. Come on,” Ian wraps an arm around your waist and carries his bag on the other shoulder. He guides the two of you through the triple decker’s entrance and up the stairs carefully. Even though your little whimpers and thighs pressing together drive him wild at the moment, he deosn’t want either of you to actually do something dumb and miss a step or get caught. Ian’s heart hammers against his chest when presses into your back to unlock his apartment. Your warm body molds against his and shifts under foot. He’s too drawn into how intoxicating you smell. Feeling you hesitantly grind against him makes Ian fumble with the key.

“Brat,” he mutters and shoves the key into the hole. Quickly pushing the door open, Ian forces you to move with his hasty steps and finally enter his home. He nearly breaks the key as he pulls it free and slams the door shut behind him, locking it.

You watch Ian drop his bag onto the side table and throw his keys in the dish. Everything is still as Ian rubs his jaw with a weak smile.

“Bed, baby,” he directs you with his chin. He takes off his sunglasses, and his dark eyes are nearly black when he stares back at you. You turn to run to the bedroom and throw your bag to the living room couch. With every step closer you take off a piece of clothing. Echoing footsteps grow louder behind you, and your heart spikes. You finally got through the day, and you can let go for the weekend.

Passing through the kitchen, you beeline to the bedroom. Still messy as usual with cds stacked haphazardly next to the record player and journals scatter the top of the dresser. The bed invites you with fresh, white and gray linens. Even in the dizzying excitement, your heart swells that Ian wants you to feel comfortable in his home with your favorite morning drink on hand and clean sheets to welcome you.

You throw yourself onto the soft duvet, and Ian falls on top of you. Unable to help the carefree laughter bubbling inside you, you chuckle and pull his head down to press a warm kiss to his lips. His hands run down your sides and squeeze at your soft skin. The dull pain of his teeth nipping at your bottom lip pulls a needy moan from your mouth. Quick to seize the opportunity, Ian slips his tongue past your swollen lips and teases your own. You press your hand against his hard cock and start to slowly rub the little drizzle of precum up his length. An achy need shoots through your stomach when he groans into your mouth.

“Promise that I’ll take my time later. Alright, baby?” Ian trails his nose across your jaw and pants against your neck. “You’ve been driving me insane today,” he punctuated his words with a sudden roll of his hips against your own, “Just need to be inside you, baby. That okay? Gonna let me do what I want to you?”

“I thought you were here to help me,” you tease and meet his hips. Both of you breath heavily at the spiraling sensation your movement caused. Your tummy tickles as Ian grazes your hip bone with the rough pads of his fingers. Slowly, he dips his hand following the slope of your thigh to between your legs.

Ian’s eyes lock onto you as he pauses, his hand hovers just far enough from where you need him most. “I am a selfish man. I have never claimed otherwise,” he growls, “I can still take care of you even if I’m greedy for your body. Even if I’m addicted to you and only want just another taste. I may not be a lover, but I will make sure that the thought of another partner never crosses your mind”. He lightly starts to trace your hole, just enough to catch your undivided attention. “You’re mine, got it? You went after me. You want me. No one else will ever come close to what I do to you,” he says, lips moving against your own as he speaks. His words sit heavy on your chest and make your core burn. Ian’s other leaves the side of your head to reach over and grab the small bottle of lube on his nightstand. The faint click of its cap breaks your gaze to watch him lube his fingers before they return to your body.

Ian slowly sinks a finger into you, not breaking eye contact with you, and pulls a whine from your swollen lips. “I’m going to make sure that I’ve ruined you for anyone else who even thinks they have a shot with you,” he promises and presses a searing kiss to your mouth. Your breath catches as he adds another finger, stretching you out. Carefully scissoring you open, Ian grips your hip with his other hand. Fingers dig into your figure as he starts to make you unwind and lose yourself to him.

“Ian, I don’t want anyone else,” you quietly mumble against his mouth. You anchor your hands in his hair and scrap your fingers against his scalp as you pull him closer to you. His guttural moan vibrates against you making you dizzy at the growing arousal building in you. His fingers press upward into you and hit your sweet spot sending a sting of pleasure up your body.

“Then I'm gonna keep it that way. Remind you who you belong to after the stunts you pulled today,” Ian nips your lip before moving his mouth against your neck.

When Ian removes his fingers from you, a sudden emptiness makes you buck your hips in frustration. Not even able to voice your complaint, you feel the tip of Ian’s dick at your entrance.

He rubs his leaking tip against you, smearing pre cum to help lube you. Ian drags his lips up your neck and rests them at the shell of your ear: “Beg”.

Everything hurts. Everything’s too much and not enough at the same time. At the drop of a single word, you let go completely. All the walls come tumbling down at the growing flames building in you.

“Ian, please. I need you in me,” you practically sob, “I want you closer. I want to feel your thick cock inside me as you use me however you want. Just- fuck, I need more”.

With your broken pleads, Ian sinks the tip of his dick inside you. You sob at the slight relief, and your eyes flutter close.

“Keep going. I know you have so many big words in your little brain, baby,” his hot breath stings you.

“Ian,” you shout as your eyes flash open only. “I haven’t been able to think about anything, but you, Ian. Every thought that I’ve managed to have today has been counting down to coming home tonight. You left me wanting more after this morning, and I’m desperate. Please,” you weep. Your eyes sting as you easily admit what he’s done to you.

A searing cloud of pleasure sweeps across your neck when Ian bites down on your sensitive spot. Dizzy from his sudden movement, you barely feel your legs shake as he fully inserts himself into you. The close proximity overwhelms you as Ian snaps his hips against your own, setting a swift pace.

Your eyes droop as you let yourself completely relax underneath him. The dull stab of pleasure hits every time the tip of his of cock continuously rubs against your sweet spot. Moans echo through the room as both of you lose yourself in each other’s touch. Your thighs sting from the constant denial through the day as you wrap your legs around Ian’s waist.

Now pushing deeper inside you, Ian watches through hooded eyes as you arch your back and a shattering moan passes your lips. “That’s it, baby. Let go, I know you’re close, so just let go. I got ya,” Ian rasps and snaps his hips harder against your own.

“‘S too much,” you whine. The burning crescendo builds in your stomach making you thrash. Either an attempt to chase after your climax or to escape Ian’s brutal ruts- you don’t know or care. All you can feel is Ian’s overwhelming presence. One arm presses your body into the mattress to hold you still, and you feel his veins tickle your skin. His face presses into the crook of your neck and every pepperd kiss flames across your skin. Everytime Ian pushes into you, you feel as if he sinks deeper than the last time. Arousal pools in your stomach when he changes his tempo to a more unforgiving pace and slams into you.

“Thought you said I could do whatever I want with you, baby,” Ian chides and bites down on your neck again. Purple welts blossom across your skin and spur him to keep pushing you further over the edge.”Thought you said you needed me closer,” Ian moans as he moves his hand from your waist and rests his hand against your lower stomach. Both of you feel how far Ian’s dick ruts into you with each thrust. The added pressure makes your toes curl.

“P-please, Ian,” your voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. With each movement of his hips, Ian knocks the wind out of you.

“‘Can’t make up your mind, huh, baby?” Ian mocks you with a teasing smile, “You don’t need to think anymore- just focus on me”.

The combination of desire stirring in you and Ian’s words of encouragement, send you over. Your back arches making your chest press up into his own. Hastily running your hands down his neck, you grip his shoulders. Fingertips dig into his broad muscles and irritate his skin with scratches when you drag your nails. It feels like something snaps inside you, and you let out a devastated moan as everything goes white.

Pride stokes Ian’s arousal at the sight of you so far gone on his cock. Moving his hand off your stomach, he catches your back and eases you back onto the bed to press into you with quick ruts. Your incoherent babbles fall mute to his ears as blood rushes through him, and he chases his high. His cock stutters deep inside you with one sharp thrust, and Ian fills you with cum. His hips rock against yours as he rides out his orgasm to your weak whines and whimpers.

Ian holds himself above you as the two of you come down from your orgasms and looks down at your fucked out expression. Tears stains run down your flushed cheeks. Your neck is painted with his signature mark. Chest rising and falling as you desperately breathe in any oxygen you can. A work of art created by Ian Malcolm.

“Need you breathe in, baby,” Ian rubs his thumb against your cheekbone, “And when I pull out, you’re gonna exhale, okay?” His arm holds himself up as he lightly rests his other hand on your chest.

Barely holding onto consciousness, you mumble in response and poorly nod your head. Fatigue envelopes you in a thick blanket, and Ian’s voice does nothing but lull you to sleep. His hand tickles your chest causing you to mutter in protest and try to swat his hand away.

“Deep breath in,” Ian coes at how your face scrunches into a pout, but he feels you listen to his words. “And then out,” Ian pulls out of you as you exhale. His heart pangs when you wince at the movement. “Sorry, sweetheart. Must not be fun,” he rubs his hand up your side to sooth you.

Ian drops to your side and lays down, always keeping at least his leg pressed against your own or a hand on you while he settles. Once the pillows are right and the alarm clocks set for an hour later in the evening, Ian carefully pulls you to his chest and trails his finger softly in random shapes across your skin.

“You alright?” Ians quietly asks. But he’s met only with faint snores and deep breaths as a response. He presses a lingering kiss to the crown of your head before closing his eyes. “You’re gonna be the death of me, I swear,” he mumbles. A small laugh bubbles against his body as you shift to get more comfortable, quickly returning to deep slumber. Shaking his head, Ian yawns, “So, you’ll hear that, but not when I tell you to behave. Jesus christ, you’re a piece of work”. Draping his other arm around your shoulders, Ian smiles when you rest one leg on top of his thighs.

Finally through the day, the two of you can just enjoy each other’s tender touches and company for the weekend.

169 notes · View notes

finnofamerica · 1 month

Text

The Next Future Mrs. Malcolm- Ian Malcolm X reader | Smut

Summary: Reader enjoys a very romantic night out with Dr. Ian Malcolm.

Word Count: 2,234

Date Posted: 03.25.24

Prompt: Could it be a smutty romantic fic of Ian with a GF with a praise kink?

TW: AFAB LANGUAGE USED, Toy use in public, dirty talk, praise, oral (giving)

Note: The toy Used is the Lovense Lush 3. Linked so you can get a visual.

🔞MINORS DO NOT INTERACT🔞

|| Masterlist || Request Here || Fandoms/ Characters || Req by @melonpire

The package left on your doorstep was a large brown box unceremoniously taped closed. There was no return address, but you suspected you knew who it was from. See, your boyfriend Ian just got back from his book tour, and he loves to surprise you with a romantic night out.

You opened the box, the true surprise inside. There were several beautifully wrapped boxes of different sizes, each completed with a neatly tied bow. Sitting on the very top of the pile was a note.

Y/n,

Pamper yourself today. I’ll pick you up at 7:30 for dinner, and your outfit is included in the box. I can’t wait to see you, Beautiful.

Ian

You did exactly that. You spent the morning in the shower exfoliating, shaving, and doing anything else that you could think of in preparation for your surprise date. Ian had bought you an entirely new outfit—new lingerie that contrasted your skin beautifully and gave you the perfect amount of cleavage. A small box contained a pair of thin, silvery dangling earrings that looked like stars falling from the sky when the light hit them just right, as well as a matching bracelet. A large champagne-colored box contained the dress that hugged your body like a second skin. But there was another box, baby pink, wrapped in a champagne bow.

Your brows furrowed, and a complete outfit was sitting on your bed in front of you; you couldn’t imagine what was in this box. Gently, you untied the bow and opened the lid, a note falling from it as you did. Inside sat an oddly shaped hot pink silicone device. It was kind of egg-shaped, with a long, thin “tail” extending from one end to a small circle that had a button.

You inspected the smooth surface of the device before picking up the note. Ian gave you directions to the app to download and instructions on how to share control of the device. Taking it to the bathroom, you gave the device a quick wash with mild soap before setting it on a clean towel to dry and setting an alarm for six-thirty.

Your heart raced as you stood in front of the mirror, dressed in the gorgeous black body con dress that accentuated your features. The vibrator was surprisingly easy to insert with a little bit of lube, and the shape allowed it to sit inside your vaginal canal without slipping out; it was quite a snug, comfortable fit. The tail sat outside of your body, curling up toward your stomach, held against your skin by the crotchless panties Ian had bought you.

You inspected your appearance. You looked hot. Ian really knew how to dress you, and telling you what to wear was one of his favorite things. He wasn’t the type of guy who told you what to wear because he didn’t want other men to think you looked sexy. In fact, his intentions were almost the exact opposite. Ian loved buying you clothes and dressing you because he wanted other men to be jealous. He wanted to show you off to the world and show them the gorgeous woman he bagged.

Seven-thirty on the dot, there was a knock at your door. Ian stood on the other side, towering above your short stature, with a single rose, dethorned, and a mischievous grin on his lips.

“Hi, Sweetheart,” He scanned your outfit and caressed your cheek, “Don’t you look beautiful.”

You couldn’t fight the smile on your face as heat rushed to your cheeks. He’d just arrived, and he was already turning you into a melty puddle of girl goo. “Thank you.”

“Spin so I can get the full view.”

You obeyed his request, turning slowly as he inspected you. The second your back was fully turned, he landed a swift smack to your ass, making you yelp.

“Just as I thought,” he mused, “You’re perfect.”

His praise filled you with warmth and an inexplicable desire to please. You were frozen in place as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “And after dinner, I’m ruining that beautiful makeup of yours.”

And there it was. A rush of arousal shot through you, making you shiver in anticipation.

“Are you ready to go?” You asked, swallowing down your nerves and taking his hand.

“Just waiting on you, Beautiful,” He grinned, leading you downstairs to his car.

The restaurant wasn’t the fanciest in town, not that that mattered to you. You didn’t care if you went to an Olive Garden as long as you were with Ian. It was a lovely white tablecloth restaurant located on the bay with outdoor seating that overlooked the sea. Once parked, Ian reached underneath your dress and turned on the vibrator, connecting his Bluetooth to it so he could control the vibration.

The lowest setting was a soft steady rumble that pressed against your G-spot with every step as Ian led you to the host stand.

“I have a reservation for Dr. Malcolm.” He said suavely.

“Oh!” The host beamed, “Right this way, we have your private table ready.”

She led you both outside to the patio seating, half of it blocked off with beautiful flowered hedges on rolling planter boxes. You passed through the deliberate gap in the hedges, your table sitting center in the decorated space.

“Ian,” You squeezed his hand, nerves crawling up your spine, “This is so fancy.”

Of course, by fancy, you meant expensive. Expensiveness made you nervous - guilty. You didn’t want to be a financial burden.

“Hey,” He gave you a comforting smile, “Only the best for my gorgeous girl.”

You let out a shallow breath, letting him guide you to your chair. He pulls it out for you like a gentleman before scooting you in.

“Here are your menus,” the host said, placing the hard-covered menu books on the table. “Your server will be by shortly.”

Every aspect of the dinner was lovely, only heightened by the vibrator buzzing inside you. Throughout dinner, Ian had adjusted the settings, making it difficult for you to sit still, but somehow, you managed. You were more worried about wether or not there would be a wet mark on the butt of your dress from how much you felt like you were soaking.

The vibrator suddenly stopped, making your brows furrow in confusion. You honestly missed the sensation now.

“Y/n, I often used to make jokes about how I’m always looking for the next future ex-Mrs. Malcolm. But I’ve realized I don’t want another Ex-Mrs. Malcolm.” He paused, and your heart sank. Was he breaking up with you?

“I just want the next Mrs. Malcolm.” Ian got down on his knee. Your breath caught in your chest. “I want you to be the next Mrs. Malcolm, and I am determined to make it last this time. Will you marry me?”

Tears welled in your eyes as you nodded. You hopped out of your chair and pulled him into a hug.

“Yes, I will.” You kissed him, refusing to let your tears spill over and ruin your makeup. Ian slipped the beautiful moss agate ring on your finger and kissed your hand. You chuckled, “For a second there, I thought you might be breaking up with me.”

Ian laughed as he helped you back to your seat, “I don’t want to break up with you ever.”

Finally, the bill was settled, and the server brought out dessert and two glasses of sparkling wine.

“Congratulations, you both,” The server, Richard, bid his farewell as you enjoyed the final moments of your meal.

You were completely filled with warmth as Ian drove you both back to your shared apartment. The second the door clicked shut behind you, Ian’s lips were on yours, and his arms wrapped around you.

“Ian!” You protested with a giggle, “Can we at least make it to the bedroom first?”

“I don’t know, Sweetheart,” He growled slightly, “You just look so damn good as my fianceé. I can’t wait to make that makeup run.”

Arousal rushed through you again, practically making you salivate. You managed to separate yourself from him just long enough to get to your knees, hastily undoing the belt to his sleek dress pants, freeing his thick member.

Ian let out a groan as you licked him root to tip before taking the head of his cock in your mouth, smudging your recently reapplied lipstick.

“Fuck you’re good at that,” His hand fell to your hair, pulling the strands away from your face. “I remember we we first got together, you could barely get it in your mouth without gagging.”

You relaxed your throat, inching your way down his cock until your nose pressed to his groin.

“Look at you now.” He praised, “Deepthroating like a champ. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Ian slowly rocked his hips, gently fucking your mouth as you forced yourself to sit on your hands and relinquish control to him. You loved pleasing him, listening to the string of praise falling from his lips as he fucked your throat until tears spilled from your eyes, and arousal was practically pooling on the floor underneath you.

“I need to feel you,” He pulled his cock out with a satisfying pop, helping you up from the floor. Ian stripped off his shoes and pants before ushering you to your bedroom, swiping the boxes off the bed. “Be a good girl, and let me strip you.”

You gave him a grin, turning so he could unzip your dress, letting fall to the floor around your heels.

“You’re so beautiful,” Ian praised, running his hands over the lacy lingerie that he’d picked out for you. Large, warm palms cupped your breast as he kissed your shoulder, taking his time with you. You let out a satisfied sigh at the feeling, relaxing into his touch. He undid the clasp to your bra, letting that, too, fall to the floor, leaving you in nothing but crotchless panties and heels.

He laid you down on the bed, pulling out the vibrator with a wet pop and tossing it to the side. Your hands fumbled with his shirt buttons as he caressed your pussy.

“So wet already, Sweetheart?” He teased, making you huff.

“You’re the one who teased me the entire dinner,” You spat back, pushing his shirt off his shoulders, light glinting off your new ring.

Ian stroked his cock twice before lining the head with your entrance; you let out a breathy sigh as he slid in with ease. As always, his cock filled you to the brim, making you feel pleasurably stretched out. He kissed down your neck to your shoulder as he slowly pumped in and out, taking his time, allowing the pleasure to build in you.

“God, you feel so good.” He praised, reaching over to grab the Hitachi wand sitting on the bedside table, slotting it perfectly between the two of you. Even the lowest setting built a wave of pleasure in you, “I missed this pussy on my tour. Next time, I’m bringing you with me so I can have it every night.”

You rolled your hips up into his, moaning softly. “I’d like that. I love pleasing you.”

His lips met yours again, moving in unison as each thrust pressed the vibrator harder against your clit.

“Ian -“ you whined slightly, wanting more from the vibrator between you.

He turned it up to the next setting, stating his condition, “You’re not allowed to cum until I tell you to.”

You nodded helplessly, grinding into the vibrator. Ian picked up his pace, clinging to you like you were the last life preserver on a rocky ocean. Each wave builds that pleasurable pressure within you. A hot coil of arousal burning in the pit of your stomach.

“Ian -“ You moaned, this one like a warning. “Ian, please, I can’t last much longer.”

He gripped your hips as he leaned up straighter, one hand holding the vibrator in place. “Come for me, Y/n, be a good girl and come for your Finacé.”

It was like he pulled the ripcord as your building orgasm released and your entire body spasmed around his cock.

“Good girl.” Ian praised. His name fell from your lips, fragmented by moans as he turned up the vibrator again, fucking you stupid. “Good girls get rewarded.”

It was like you were floating into space as he held the vibrator to your oversensitive clit. Every thought left your mind as you drooled into the pillow, riding out the aftershocks being sent through you. Another orgasm built in your core as he continued to rock into you, washing over you the second it hit its peak, no longer able to maintain control. It was wave after wave of orgasms rolling through your body. It wasn’t until you hit your fourth that Ian’s hips finally stuttered as he spilled his seed deep in your cunt.

He collapsed on the two of you, turning off the vibrator and removing it. His heart pounded in his chest against yours as you regained your breath and your soul returned to your body.

Ian peppered kisses to your cheek as he held you close, both of you exhausted from your romp.

“Good night, future Mrs. Malcolm.” He whispered in your ear as you both drifted off into a very restful night of sleep.

Tags: @melonpire

#finn writes #ian malcolm x reader #jurassic park x reader #jurassic world x reader #ian malcolm #dr. ian malcolm #03.25.24 #jurassic park #jurassic world

34 notes · View notes

raz-writes-the-thing · 4 months

Text

Unpredictable // Chapter One

Ian Malcolm x Original Female Character / masterlist

Chapter Summary: Lyanna Grant, niece to Alan Grant finds herself working on her uncle's latest dig site.

Unpredictable Tag List: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

Palaeontology. It was not an occupation that was extremely popular these days. However, it's always been what Lyanna wanted to do. Ever since she was young and visited the local museum for the first time. She must have been around eight. Her uncle had waited until she was old enough to remember the shock and awe of the things on display. Lyanna could remember gazing up at the razor-sharp teeth jutting out of the jaw of the tyrannosaurus skeleton and she knew. She just knew. This was it for her. Nothing could ever even come close.

Since that oh-so-fateful day, Lyanna became obsessed with the flora and fauna of the past. She read every book she could find, read every article, and found every fact. She collected figures and fossils and studied the subject furiously. It paid off well considering where she was at now, she supposed.

Lyanna was now one of the most well-known palaeontologists in the modern world... although she suspected that part of her reputation may have some due credit to her being the niece of Alan Grant, a professor and world-famous palaeontologist himself. They’d both written a book. His about the evolution of the dinosaurs and hers about the different types of creatures from different eras throughout the prehistoric periods and how ecological changes then impacted the way the animals evolved in turn.

Only a few years ago, Lyanna had finally gotten her Ph.D. certifications in palaeontology and had right off the bat found herself out in the field helping her uncle dig up dinosaurs. Sure, it could be considered mild nepotism but it was great working with family because she didn't feel so alone when she started working in Montana with him. It was a huge leap for her career not having to start at the very bottom of the palaeontological food chain. Alan made sure that the transition was as comfortable as possible. Lyanna really couldn't have asked for a better uncle slash boss...

"You alright there?" Dylan asked, breaking her from her thoughts and redirecting her attention to the task at hand.

"Yeah," she replied wistfully. "Sorry, I was just thinking." Dylan was another graduate from Lyanna’s class. Alan had picked him up too when she’d graduated, claiming that new blood would be good for the digs. And it had been, given that they had a pretty constant trickle and turnover of volunteers as they grew bored with the heat and the sand.

"About what?" He asked curiously, fingering the dust out of a fossilised eye socket.

"Just about how lucky I am," Lyanna replied with a small smile. She really was, and because she was self-aware about it, it made it easier to appreciate just how far she’d come in such a short time.

Dylan snorted and returned to the work at hand. They were currently excavating the skeleton of a Velociraptor. Lyanna was brushing away the few stray sands that were still on the pelvic bone of the creature.

"You know, I'd hate to meet a raptor on a dark Friday night. Look at those teeth- they’d shred through you like a mandolin,” he winced, glancing up at Lyanna quickly.

"Yeah, I completely agree. It would be terrifying. Thankfully, a giant meteor crashed into the earth and prevented that, hey?" She laughed, pleased with her joke. Dylan chuckled and shook his head in mock irritation. “Though it wouldn’t necessarily shred you. See-” Lyanna ran a finger over the teeth worn through with time.

“They’re built to grip and tear the flesh from the bones, so it would be more like…” Lyanna searched for some kind of analogy that would make more sense. “Getting stuck in a bear trap. You’re not going to be able to get out of it without ripping half of your leg off unless you unlatch the jaws.”

"Doctor Grant? We're ready to try again." Lyanna heard the voice say from across the site. She clutched at her hat as a gust of dry wind tried to blow it away.

"I'm going to go check this out, okay?" She said to Dylan while standing up and brushing herself off. He nodded distractedly and kept working. It wouldn’t be long now until they’d be able to get the bones out and shipped off for analysis and study.

Glancing one more time at the partially exhumed skeleton, Lyanna stepped out from under the cover and immediately felt the beating hot Montana sun on her back. If she wasn’t sweating before, she certainly was now.

During her short time working with her uncle, Lyanna had acquired a golden tan that covered most of her body except the parts of herself that were shielded by her clothes. It was almost like she wore tan gloves and thigh-highs. It was a good thing she didn’t get about much without a longer-sleeved shirt or shorts on. Lyanna made a mental note to try and get the rest of herself tanned up the next time she hit town.

Before she came to the desert wasteland that she now called home, Lyanna was quite pale. Many of her friends constantly joked about how she was probably a vampire because of the paleness of her skin and because of how she spent most of her nights studying deep into the early hours of the morning. That was, of course, before she made it out to Montana and was dead asleep by ten in the evening most nights from all the hot sun and hard labour during the day.

Lyanna started jogging when she felt and heard the soft lead pellet enter the ground over by the scanner tent. She wanted to see how the new technology worked, given that this was likely the future of archaeology and she’d need to know if she hoped to run her own digs someday.

She reached the area just in time for an image of a Velociraptor to pop up on the computer screen. Damn. She missed it. There was always next time, she supposed.

"This new program is incredible. A few more years of development, and we won't even have to dig anymore," Danny, working at the computer said. Lyanna did not miss the tone of barely contained glee in his voice.

"I hope not," Lyanna spoke, making her presence known to the group gathered around the computer. “I only just joined this circus.”

“Absolutely,” Alan turned around and grinned at her knowingly. “Where’s the fun in that?”

"It looks in good shape," Lyanna said, gesturing to the image on the screen and leaning in for a better look.

"Chip off the old block you are,” Alan smiled slyly, quiet pride shining through his features. “Yes, it looks about five maybe six feet high. I'm guessing about nine feet long," he reached up and accidentally touched the screen, making the image distort and flicker.

"What'd you do?" He asked Danny, pursing his lips disdainfully.

"You touched it. Dr Grant isn't machine-compatible," Ellie said with a laugh. Lyanna nudged at her shoulder and tried to contain her laughter. If there was one thing Alan hated above all else- it was technology.

While Ellie wasn’t a blood relative, Lyanna still considered Ellie her aunt. She basically was her second mother, considering how she’d been around since Lyanna was quite young. She’d taken her on and supported Lyanna when she needed it, and was a huge source of motivation for her to finish her studies when she’d struggled and hit hiccups along the way.

"Hell, they've got it in for me," Alan added in agreement, touching the top of the makeshift dust shield over the monitor screen.

The image corrected itself and Alan continued assessing the skeleton.

"Look at this," he said, turning to the group of volunteers behind him. "It's no wonder these guys learned how to fly." The group chuckled, not seeing the similarities between the two types of skeletons. It wasn’t a popular opinion shared amongst the scientific community, but knowing Alan as she did, Lyanna knew he wasn’t likely to soon give up on proving it.

"No seriously,” Lyanna piped up, “he's right. Do you see the pubic bone, turned backwards like a bird?" She asked, backing him up.

"It's true. Dinosaurs have more in common with modern-day birds than they do with reptiles," Alan bounced off her comment, turning to face the group. Ah, here is where they got the scientific benefits from their volunteering.

"Look at the vertebrae, full of air sacs and hollows, just like a bird's and even the word "raptor" means ‘bird of prey’."

Lyanna could see that Alan was going to get into one of his infamous rants, and she noticed a couple of volunteers back up a step as if to wander off and do something else.

"That doesn't look very scary. More like a six-foot turkey," they heard a kid's voice from the back of the group call out. Lyanna sighed before rubbing the sand and sweat from her forehead. This was the downside to having volunteers. She would be lying, however, if Lyanna said she didn’t laugh after seeing Alan's reaction.

"Here we go,” Ellie chuckled, knowing what was about to happen.

"Okay then, imagine yourself in the Cretaceous period," Alan began, walking forward and fishing out his raptor claw that he had acquired back on his first-ever dig right out of university. Lyanna could remember many days in his study when he was home between digs fiddling with it and imagining the beast that used to be connected to it. She considered it an heirloom and secretly hoped that Alan did, too.

"You get your first look at this ‘six-foot turkey’. He moves like a bird, lightly bobbing his head.” Alan moved slowly towards the kid, Johnny, Lyanna thought his name was. “You keep still because you think that maybe his visual acuity is based on movement like a T-Rex and he'll lose you if you don't move.” He shook his hand, imitating movement.

"But no," he paused, "not Velociraptor. You stare at him and he just stares right back." By this point, all of the volunteers and workers were captivated by Alan's words, hasty escapes forgotten. Lyanna was too, to be honest. But then again, she’d been enraptured by Alan’s words since she’d been a tot, so it wasn’t all that different to usual.

"And that's when the attack comes," he raised his hands, bringing his two pointer fingers up side by side to show that raptors didn't hunt by themselves. "Not from the front, but from the sides. From the other two raptors you didn't even know were there," he and Lyanna both smirked. Alan stood up straight.

"Because Velociraptors are pack hunters... they use coordinated attack patterns and he attacks you with this," he raised the claw to show Johnny, whose eyes widened comically.

"A six-inch retractable claw, like a razor, on the middle toe," Alan placed the claw between his index and middle finger, showing him where the claw would have been situated. "He doesn't bite your jugular like a lion, no. He slashes at you here or here," he said, raking the claw along different places of the kid's torso.

"Or maybe your belly. Spilling your intestines," he then smiled, crouching down again so that his eyes were level with Johnny’s. "The point is... you are alive when they start to eat you," he grins, satisfied with the reaction he had elicited.

Even Lyanna thought he might have gone a little far.

Johnny nods and hurries off. Alan turned and chuckled after seeing the look on Ellie's face. She didn’t look particularly impressed, but she also looked amused, so Alan must have known he wasn’t in too much trouble.

"Johnny is probably going to have nightmares now, Alan," Lyanna snorted, crossing her arms playfully.

"There's nothing to be afraid of. They've been dead for 65 million years," he said factually.

"It's the power of the imagination," she responded, tapping the side of his head. He smiled down at her and patted her shoulder affectionately.

The three of them started walking up the hill that separated them from the rest of the camp.

"You know, if you wanted to scare the kid you could have pulled a gun on him," Ellie laughed, pulling the brim of her bucket hat down to shield her face from the beating sun.

"Yeah, I know. I can't believe you want to have one of those," Alan replied, gesturing back towards the scanner area where the volunteers were wheeling the new equipment out of the sun.

"I don't think she wants that particular kid," Lyanna laughed, wiping another layer of sweat from her forehead.

"Exactly. I mean, a breed of child would be intriguing. What's so wrong with kids?" Ellie asked, squinting at Alan.

"Oh Ellie... they're noisy, they're messy, they're expensive," Alan listed, trekking up the sand dune.

Ellie and Lyanna both laughed but she could see where he was coming from. Life was becoming more expensive by the day. One or two probably wouldn’t break the average person’s bank, though.

"They smell," Alan added after a second of consideration.

"They do not smell!" Ellie laughed, shaking her head at the audacity.

"Babies smell," he reasoned, pointing an accusatory finger at her. He had her there, Lyanna supposed.

Before Ellie could answer, there was a loud rumbling coming from the sky.

"Is that a chopper?" Lyanna asked, shielding her eyes from the bright midday sun.

"We aren’t due for another inspection,” Alan replied just as the black machine came into view. Then he thought about it for another moment. “Are we?”

"I don't know but let's find out,” Lyanna thought out loud as the chopper started to come down towards the ground. And not on the dedicated landing strip either, she noticed.

“Oh shit,” she exclaimed suddenly, bolting into motion. “The dig!”

16 notes · View notes