#there are a few doodles I didn't even include here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stevenssacrab · 9 months

Text

In Secret

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

Summary: For six months, you and Steve have hidden your relationship from everyone, but what happens when you come face to face with death?

Rating: 17+

Warnings: Sneaking around, hostage situation, kissing, reader has a near death experience

Word Count: 1.6k

a/n: love a good ol’ Steve fic, never misses, I hope everyone enjoys this one, have a happy new year!!

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

Being Captain America’s significant other comes with an absurd amount of pressure; you have to be flawless, never make a single mistake, be a good role model for kids, and be just as if not more heroic, which is precisely why you’ve chosen to hide your relationship from everyone, fellow Avengers included. It wasn’t an easy decision, but you and Steve both decided that it would be for the best; you were new to the Avenger team and didn't want the added pressure of being with Steve; you and Steve somehow managed to have kept it hidden for six months, it didn’t come without its hardships though, Steve needed to keep up the appearance of a fearless leader, so he couldn’t be sweet on you when it came to training and performance evaluations; and you couldn't defend Steve when others complained about his methods, less they suspect anything between you two, much to your dismay Steve seemed to always have women after him, leading to a few disagreements about how Steve should handle the situation, you wanted Steve to be harsher when he turned them down, but Steve has a reputation to uphold, and being rude and dismissive was not a part of it.

"Okay, you leave first, and I'll join 5 minutes later," Steve said reassuringly, rubbing your arm gently and giving your hand a light squeeze.

"Okay, see you out there, Cap," you say playfully with a wink; you walk out of your room and down the hall into the conference room filled with fellow Avengers; your eyes scan for an empty seat.

"Y/N! Over here!" Wanda calls, waving her hand and patting the open spot between her and Natasha; you smile and briskly walk over.

"Did we start yet?" you asked, knowing the meeting can't start without Steve.

"No, just waiting for Steve," Natasha says matter of factly, doodling absentmindedly on a piece of paper.

"So, Natasha and I want to see that new movie that just came out. Do you wanna come?" Wanda asked, but you've already seen that movie with Steve earlier this week.

"I've already seen it," you said disheartened.

"HOW!? It's been out for two days?!" Wanda astonished. "It's honestly impressive how fast you watch these movies as they come out; who are you even seeing them with?" Wanda asked, peering at you suspiciously.

"Uh, my mom?" you voice with a rising inflection.

"Okay, this week's mission!" Steve calls out loudly, walking into the room before Wanda can question you further, "Our sources tell us Hydra is working on a new super soldier serum for a division of soldiers. Our mission is to stop them in their tracks." Steve says firmly, eyes landing on yours fleetingly.

"We'll go in groups of 3: Wanda, Clint, and Y/N in group one, group two is Me, Peter, and Scott, and the third and final group is Bucky, Sam, and Natasha.”

"We gotta hightail it; this is of great significance, so we move tonight, meet at the quin in an hour, we’ll discuss our plans of attack on the way," he says with a nod, marching out the room.

“Everyone’s here?” Steve asks, scanning the quin, ensuring everyone is accounted for, “Okay, as we fly over, group one will land on the south side of the building, my group will land east, group three lands west, and the quin will land in the north, the goal is to push toward the center where intel tells us the serums are located and try to catch anyone who may be running off with the serum, once secured everyone evacuate immediately and meet at the jet. Everyone clear?” He asks strictly, looking toward the teams, and they nod affirmatively.

“Okay, move out!” he shouts, rushing for his shield and jumping out of the plane; you land quietly outside the building, shed the parachute off, and get into position.

“Okay, on my mark, go!” Clint whispers harshly; the three of you move as a unit, sweeping every corner, taking quiet steps, instincts on high alert; as you move through the building, you can’t help this nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach; something doesn’t feel right, you’re halfway through the building, and not a single enemy has been spotted.

“Guys, I don’t like this,” you say lowly over comms, hairs on the back of your neck standing straight.

“Let’s just keep moving so we can get out of here,” Clint says, readjusting his grip on his pistol while Wanda grows increasingly worried, palms becoming sweaty, the tension hanging in the air.

“Cap, you guys got anything on your end?” Clint asked over comms, his eyes scanning the suspiciously empty room.

“Nothing over here; keep your eyes peeled; everything about this feels wrong,” Captain uttered, uneasy hanging off every word; you signal you are going to have a look around at the team and break right; you creep into a dark room littered with papers, it looks like everyone just got up at left, you spot a computer playing footage on a loop, you walk up and watch, it’s your team landing outside.

“It's a trap! They know we're here!” You screamed over comms; you reached for your gun but felt something hard press against your back.

“Don't even think about it,” a deep voice said coldly as they pulled you against them roughly; you kept your hands in the air, your heart beating out of your chest; they ran their hands over your body, removing any possible weapon.

“What’s the plan now?” You ask coyly, looking over your shoulder slightly.

“Turn around!” He boomed, patience wearing thin; he pushed the gun against your head, “Walk,” he said, shoving you with the weapon, and you walked carefully toward the exit.

“Y/N, where are you?” Steve asks, trying not to sound as concerned as he is; you trudge toward the exit and swing it open

“Hiya, Captain,” you call, looking at him with pleading eyes. Steve’s face breaks your heart; it’s as if you told him the worst news of his life. The assailant grips you by your neck and pulls you close, holding the gun to your temple.

“What’s wrong, Captain? Cat got your tongue?” He said smugly. Steve said nothing, his eyes remaining planted on you as panic started to work its way across your chest, your hands clawing at the arm tightening around your neck, the assailant laughing at the way you struggle to breathe.

“I'll keep it brief and tell you what I want: a trade, the soldier for your newest recruit," he said arrogantly, walking you both closer to Steve

"Don't do it!" you say anxiously, looking at the team with all their weapons drawn and pointed in your direction; you shift your weight uncomfortably, trying to think of any possibility that doesn't end with you injured or dead, Steve looks back at the rest of the team and then back at you, time moves slow, your skin stings with the bite of the cold winter air, and you hear your blood rushing through your ears like crashing waves, when the assailant jerks suddenly, he fires a shot in the air.

"It's now or never, Captain!" He yells, shoving the gun aggressively into your temple; you close your eyes, accepting your demise, and you open your mouth to say something, but the sound of a gunshot cuts you off; your body tenses, and you wait for the pain, but it never comes, you finally open your eyes when you feel Steve's arms wrap around you, Steve's face is filled with concern, you see his mouth moving, but you don't hear anything, Steve grabs your arms and shakes you lightly, your hearing fades in.

"Y/N! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Oh my god," he blubbers, tears welling in his eyes; he pulls you in for a fiery kiss, holding you as you'd slip through his fingers; he pulls back slowly and looks deeply into your eyes.

"Are you alright?" He asks, panic having left his body; he glides his hands down your arms and holds your hands, interlacing your fingers.

"Yeah, I'm okay, just shaken up," you say reassuringly, pulling him into a hug. You close your eyes, inhaling his scent, losing yourself in the comforting aura that is Steve, and then you hear someone clear their throat; your eyes shoot open, landing on the whole team just staring at you and Steve; you jump back and hit Steve playfully on the chest.

"Steve, they saw us!" You whisper harshly and turn him around, hiding behind his big frame; he clears his throat and speaks

"Uh..." he mutters; he suddenly reaches behind himself and grabs your hand, pulling you next to him and wrapping his arm around your waist.

"We are dating." He said confidently, chin high; there was a long pause as the team looked around at each other, and then you heard a squeal; it was Wanda squealing with happiness, running towards you with a broad smile and open arms, she practically tackled you to the ground, squeezing the life out of you.

"Oh, Wanda, I can't breathe," you choke out, gently smacking her arms.

"Since when?" Sam asks, walking up to Steve and patting him proudly on the back.

"6 months ago," Steve says brightly with a smile, pulling you against him.

"I've known for four months," Natasha says cooly

"How?!" You and Steve say in unison, looking at each other. Natasha smirked and walked closer to you both, placing one hand on each of your shoulders.

"You guys should probably not fall asleep in each other's arms if you don't want anyone to find out." She says matter-of-factly, walking away and leaving you both stunned. "Congrats," she shouted back as she walked into the quinjet.

"Let's move out, team!" He shouts, grabbing your hand gently and walking you both onto the quinjet.

216 notes · View notes

wizard-on-whales · 1 month

Text

Snowed in

I'm not sure if I qualify for the contest, and it's completely fine if I don't, but I wanted to include a fic anyway :)

I've actually had an idea like this in my head for a while now so I finally have an excuse to write it

Warnings: Mentions of hunting, injury, cursing, mentions of blood and needles, smut, slight angst, slow burn?, older reader (I know.. again.. sorry)

This one's a long one so buckle up... 8.1k words

✭-----------------------------✭

Every year James would take a trip up to a small hunting cabin he owned in the middle of nowhere in the mountains of Washington state. This year his plans were no different, besides with his recent struggles after getting out of rehab he didn't want to go alone. So that's how you ended up tagging along with him. You and James had been close friends all of your life, your band and his band getting along and touring for years. So it was no surprise to you when he asked if you wanted to take the trip with him. So now here you were on the back of a snowmobile, arms wrapped around James’ waist and he navigated through the thick snow and overgrowth to the old cabin.

Despite its rough for wear shape on the outside, with its dirty, old glass windows, and the roof sagging slightly, the inside was spotless. And much to your surprise, knowing how James can be, everything seemed to have a place and was well organized. You had never been up here with him before as it had always been some kind of safe haven for him to get away from everyone for a few weeks. You kicked the snow off of your boots, placing them on the mat by the front door as you stepped inside. The cabin had running water but no electricity which meant the only heat source you could get from the bitter cold was from the old iron wood stove in the corner. James wasted no time as he threw several logs into it, lighting them up. The small room was quickly engulfed in the warmth it put off.

You continued to study the cabin, looking over the old drawings James had done and pinned to the walls. You smiled as you studied them, always loving the strange doodles he would sketch.

“You're the first person I've brought here,” He spoke, sniffing slightly as his nose ran from the cold. You turn to look back at him huddled in his oversized winter coat, his red nose pressed against the scarf he had on.

“Really? I'm honored to be the first,” You give him a genuine smile that he returns before continuing to look around. He has a few photos of his family hung up, a few with his kids, some with his band mates, and even a few with you. You laugh softly as you pull one off the wall. It was a photo from yours and James’ senior prom. Neither of you wanted to go but his older brother and your mom insisted on it and made you go anyway.

“That dress was hideous,” You exclaim, staring at the very 70s looking prom dress your mom had picked out for you. The bottom was ruffled and billowed out, the sleeves three times too big. And your hair was teased to the max. James laughs as he looks over your shoulder to get a glimpse of the photo.

“At least you looked decent,” You giggle, looking at a young James wearing his little tux and bowtie. His hair wasn't much different from how he wore it for several years after, fluffed out, bangs in his face, and as blonde as ever.

“You don't look that bad,” James says, trying not to laugh. You turn and hit him in the chest, letting out a snort as he teases you. James takes the photo from your hand, admiring it for a few seconds longer before putting it back with the others. His smile quickly turns into a frown as he takes in a few of the other photos. Several being him and his now ex wife. You knew the divorce had hit him hard and you had tried your best to offer him comfort the past few years after he had told you about it. James takes the photos down, stacking them into a pile and covering them. You give him a soft smile, resting your hand on his back and rubbing it through the thick fabric of his coat.

“It'll get better,” You say quietly, trying to offer some condolence. James nods his head, letting out a sigh.

“Yeah, I know,” He says sadly, stepping away from the photos and turning his attention back to the fire. He doesn't speak any longer as he opens the small door on the stove and pokes at the hot coals with a metal rod.

“If you're hungry I can probably fix us something,” You speak, breaking the sullen silence that had fallen over the cabin. You glance out the small window next to the door as you wait for his answer. The snowmobile sat just outside, a small sled attached to the back holding all of the gear you would need for the next few weeks.

“Yeah I could use a bite of something,” He speaks as he closes the door and sets the rod down. You answer by nodding your head before slipping your boots back on and stepping back into the cold. The wind nips at your face, instantly turning your cheeks red. You couldn't lie to yourself that you felt alone as you looked around. Despite James' company, the rural area and the jagged mountains around you made you feel a little uneasy. The trees that surrounded the cabin were tall, bushy pine trees that seemed to blend perfectly into the sky. The heavy white snow clung to their branches causing them to creak and groan with every gust of wind. You shivered, not being able to comprehend how James could spend days up here by himself.

You tread through the thick snow, following the same footsteps you made as you came in. James follows you out to help you unload the gear and drag it all into the cabin. He helped you carry the canvas and leather bags, grabbing the ones he knew would be too heavy for you to lift. He threw them over his shoulders with no problem as he walked back inside. You grabbed your own bag and one of the coolers full of food before following him. The snow that had clung to your shoes and the bags melted into the floor, creating small pools of water that sat on the old, polished wood floors. You stare at the puddles, looking around to see if there was anything you could clean them up with so that neither of you slip or get wet. James tosses you a towel, giving you no time to react as it hits you in the face and falls to the floor. He lets out a hearty laugh, watching as you give him an annoyed pout.

“I thought you'd catch it,” He tries to defend himself, his voice still holding back a laugh. You roll your eyes, bending over to grab the towel off of the floor.

“You didn't warn me,” You huff, kneeling down to clean up some of the water and swipe the excess snow back out the door. James closes the door for good once you've finished.

“It's too late in the afternoon to really do anything so we'll just stay in here for the rest of the night,” He explains, kneeling down to organize some of the bags. He finds one of the coolers, pushing it over towards the stove before grabbing one of his own bags. As you finish wiping the floor, you toss the towel on the rubber mat next to the door, knowing you'll need it again. You slip your boots off and place them on the mat as well before sliding your thick coat off and hanging it in the coat rack. You were still bundled in plenty of layers, your sweatshirt warming you enough. You pad over to the cooler James had slid across the floor, the zipper making a loud sound as you pulled on it to open the lid.

“What do you want me to fix? There's plenty in here,” You ask him, watching as he pulls some candles out of his bag to add to the collection of the old, half melted ones he had placed everywhere.

“Uhmm…let's save the more filling things for when we've actually done some stuff. Something light is fine,” He doesn't give you a direct answer as he lights the candles. You take this as your sign to just choose whatever you were in the mood for. You pulled out a box of hamburger helper, deciding that would be plenty for the night.

“Where are the pans?” You ask him, standing up from your spot and looking around the room. James pointed to the small kitchen before speaking up.

“Under the sink.” He replied, going back to lighting the candles. You nod, walking over to the sink and pulling back the small curtain that was fastened underneath. A small stack of pans sat under it. You grab a heavy cast iron skillet, wiping some of the dust off with your hand before walking back to the stove and setting it down on top. You had never cooked on a wood stove before so you didn't know how well it could end but you proceeded on anyway.

As you prepared dinner, James pulled out the sleeping bags and mats, rolling them out on the floor in the corner. The cabin was only the single room, plus the dingy bathroom that had been added who knows how long ago. There wasn't any room for a couch or bed so sleeping on the floor was the only option. You wanted to laugh at him as he unrolled your own sleeping bag right next to his but you knew it would be warmer that way so you bit your tongue. Plus, after years of touring with him and being forced to share a hotel room, privacy didn't exist between the two of you anymore.

“Is that almost done?” He questions, his voice sounding desperate. You roll your eyes at his impatience, glancing back at him.

“Almost…does that clock work?” You reply before asking him a question. You look at the clock above him, seeing the second hand tick as every minute passes. It read 4:30 PM but you glanced outside the window, seeing nothing but darkness. Your heart sped up as you looked out, wondering what could possibly be staring back at you.

“Yeah, it's the same time on my watch,” He answers, looking from the clock, to his watch, back to you. You scoop dinner into a few camp cups, sliding a spoon into each before you join him on the floor.

“Huh, I guess I didn't realize it was getting dark so early already,” You say, knowing it usually gets dark early this time of year, but not realizing just how dark it gets since you're typically near the city lights. James takes his cup from your hand as you hold it out for him, the hot food inside warming up your hands. You both sit on your sleeping bag, backs against the wall as you eat, talking about nothing in particular. It had been so long since you had been able to sit down and have a proper conversation like this with James, you didn't realize just how much you had missed his company. With covid locking you in your house the past year and the general chaos that surrounds touring schedules it was hard to have genuine one on one time. He always had a way of making you laugh until you couldn't breath, even if it was something simple.

As the two of you finished your dinner, scraping the last bits out of the cups the conversation died down to a comfortable silence. The wind howled loudly outside as a small storm moved in from the surrounding mountains. You listen as a lone wolf starts to yelp in the distance, quickly being followed by a whole pack. You can't help but feel anxiety pool in your stomach at the thought of a group of wolves being somewhere close by. The only thing keeping them from you was the thin walls of the cabin. James seemed calm enough as he listened quietly to their howling.

“How do you stand being all the way out here by yourself?” You ask quietly, glancing over at him. He smiled, fiddling with the empty cup in his hands as he thought of an answer.

“It's scary sometimes, but being in the city scares me too. I'd rather be out here like God intended, nothing but trees and animals,” You nod your head at his response, his words being no surprise to you. You reach over and grab his cup from his hand, standing up to take them over to the sink. There was a second window that sat above it, this one slightly bigger. As you rinsed the cups out, you watched the snow fall heavily outside. You had always loved the snow, winter being your favorite since a child. It was magical to watch it fall from the sky, the white powder seeming to stop time and making the world feel quiet and empty.

“Do you remember back in, what, ‘85 I think, when we were driving to your dad's house for Christmas and our car got stuck in the snow and we walked the rest of the way?” James’ voice is quiet as he speaks but you were able to hear it clearly from across the room. You walk back towards him, taking your place next to him as you smile fondly at the memory.

“I thought I was gonna freeze to death, we were idiots for not waiting for someone to pull us out,” James laughs as he remembers the almost 2 hour trek through the thick snow and your complaints the entire way. By the time the two of you had gotten to the house you swore your fingers were going to fall off.

“I remember the way your dad yelled at us for not doing that. I swear I thought he was gonna kill us,” James smiles, shaking his head at the thought. You had always been close with your family and since James had a strained relationship with his, they welcomed him with open arms. Your parents had been second parents to him, inviting him to every holiday and on every vacation. And because of that, your dad didn't hesitate to scold him like his own child.

The two of you continue to talk about old memories, reminding each other of things the other one had long forgotten about. After a while your eyes start to droop as exhaustion starts to set in. You glance up at the clock seeing that it's nearing midnight. You let out a small yawn, stretching your arms.

“It's getting late, we should probably go to bed,” James agrees, looking at the clock himself before shuffling around the cabin to get ready for bed. You both change out of your thick winter gear and into some warm pajamas, not caring about privacy as you had seen it all before. You crawl into your sleeping bag before James, watching as he blows out the candles. Your sleeping bag was in the corner, where James assumed you would have wanted it. His was next to yours so you were trapped between the wall and him as he crawled into his. Despite blowing out all of the candles the cabin was still illuminated by the fire in the stove. He had thrown a few extra logs in before laying down so that it would continue to bring through the night and well into the morning, keeping you as warm as it could. Despite that, you still shivered. The mats underneath the sleeping bags did little to keep your body off of the cold floor and even though you had a few blankets wrapped around you, there was still a lack of warmth. James lay still, his eyes closed as he seemed content, he was always hot so you assumed he wasn't as cold as you were. You curled up further, bringing your legs to your chest as you tossed and turned, trying to fight the cold and fall asleep.

“Are you cold?” James whispered, his voice already laced with sleep.

“Freezing,” you huff, rubbing your hands up and down your legs in an attempt to get rid of some of the goose bumps. James pulled his hand out, unzipping his sleeping bag and holding it open.

“Come here then,” He says casually. It wasn't the first time the two of you had cuddled, it was a frequent thing when the two of you were younger. Several lonely nights were spent in eachothers arms as you looked for comfort in one another. Although sharing a sleeping bag seemed like a new level of close proximity. You hesitate for a second but the idea of his warmth pressed against you made you give in. You crawled out of your sleeping bag, dragging one of the blankets with you before scooting into his. He zips it back up as you press your back to his chest and rest your head on his pillow. He puts his arm back into the sleeping bag, wrapping it around your waist before dropping his head back onto the pillow, his face in your hair.

With him pressed against you, your goosebumps quickly faded and sleep began to overtake you. The comfort of his arms and the warmth of his body seemed to rock you to sleep instantly. But maybe it was just an instinct from the many times he had practically rocked you to sleep when you've cried over something and confided in him. He knew how to calm you down quickly, as did you with him. For years, you were the only person he would cry in front of, the only person he felt he could be vulnerable with, to be his true self with. And because of that, you in his arms felt right, it always had.

The sound of James snoring loudly in your ear is what woke you up the next morning. You shifted in his arms, looking at him. His silver hair was tousled all over the place and his mouth hung open slightly as he snores, drool pooling onto the pillow and onto your hair. You scrunch your face in disgust, pulling your hair away and wiping some of his saliva off of it. You quietly and slowly unzipped the sleeping bag, crawling out of James grasp without waking him. He stirred slightly, closing his mouth but continued to snore.

You slip on a hoodie over your long sleeve shirt, hoping to stay warmer as you start to prepare breakfast. The logs that James had thrown into the stove the night before had burned down to small coals so you threw a few more on, poking at them to get a fire started. You open up the cold foods cooler and pull a pack of sausage out along with a bag of frozen potatoes to make for breakfast. The cast iron skillet from last night was still on the stove top so you quickly take it to the sink to rinse it out before setting it back down, dumping the food into it. James stirs again, turning on to his back and rubbing his eyes.

“Good morning,” you speak quietly, your voice still groggily. He opens his eyes and looks at you, giving you a small smile before returning your words.

“You sure you don't wanna go with me today?” James asks as he sits up. When he invited you on the trip you gladly accepted but you told him you didn't want to be involved in the actual hunting process. Your soft spot for animals would make it difficult to watch if he found something to shoot. So, instead of going out into the woods with him and tracking a deer or elk, you told him you would stay back at the cabin.

“I'm sure, I'll probably just get in your way anyway,” You tell him, stirring the food in the pan so that it doesn't burn or stick. He nods his head, slipping out of his sleeping bag and getting dressed for the day. The kitchen had a small island with two wooden chairs pushed under it so he pulled one out and sat down as you finished up breakfast. You scoop the potato and sausage mixture onto two separate plates, handing one to him and sitting down next to him.

“So when you're out there do you walk around the whole time or do you find a place to stop and stay there for the day?” You question his hunting tactics, taking a bite of your food. He explains them to you as the two of you eat.

“I usually find some tracks to follow for a little while and once I feel like I've gotten close I'll hunker down and stay quiet,” James quickly scarfed down his food before he started to rummage through his gear, getting his things ready. He throws a backpack on, slinging his gun over his shoulder before looking back at you as you finish the last bites of breakfast.

“You gonna be okay here by yourself?” He asks, his face trying to hide its concern. He knew you could handle yourself but that didn't stop him from worrying.

“I'll be okay, I brought a few books so I'll probably just read. Please be safe,” You tell him, worrying about him as well. James nods his head and tells you his goodbyes before he steps outside and disappears for the day. You hear the snowmobile start up and drive off, the noise from it fading as he leaves. The cabin was even quieter without him, the only noise coming from the crackling of the fire and the ticking of the clock. You glance over at it, seeing the time reads 8 am. You let out a small sigh, wondering how to pass the time before you decide to organize some of your things better. All of the gear was still thrown into a pile in the middle of the cabin from when you arrived yesterday afternoon. It doesn't take you long to organize the bags, placing the food coolers onto the kitchen counters, your clothing bags next to your sleeping bags, and everything else piled near the door. You grab a book from your bag, sitting back down on your sleeping bag deciding that's how you would pass time until James came back.

As the hours went by a storm started to pick up outside. You set your book down, getting up to look out the window. The wind blows harshly, snow flying every which way which makes it hard for you to see anything. The dark storm clouds overhead cast a shadow over the forest, darkening it more than you liked. Your heart speeds up, thinking about James being trapped somewhere in this. You stay planted by the window, watching the storm get worse minute by minute, praying James is safe. The wind howls loudly, causing the cabin to creak with each harsh gust it blows. The trees outside twist and turn, throwing heavy piles of snow off of them. Any one of them could fall at any minute, crashing through the cabin or trapping James under one while he's out there. Finally after what seems like forever, you hear the snowmobiles engine off in the distance. You rip the door open, keeping a heavy hold on It so that it doesn't get blown off of its hinges. You scream his name over the wind, hoping he can hear you. The cold chill pierces through your clothes like a thousand needles, the snow blows against your face, causing you to bring your arm up to cover it. James pulls up, quickly turning the snowmobile off before stumbling inside, grabbing your arm to pull you in. You slam the door behind you, locking it so that the wind can't enter.

“Are you okay?” You sat frantically, keeping a hold on him. You couldn't see his face since he had his hood pulled tightly over him, his snow blinds were fastened over his eyes and a scarf pulled up over his nose. He drops his bag and gun by the door, pulling his gear off of his face.

“Yeah…yeah kind of,” he says out of breath. He has a small cut on his cheek, which catches your attention, you grab his arm to pull him closer but he winces harshly as you do, ripping his arm away. You give him a look before gently grabbing his arm, pulling up his jacket sleeve. Underneath he wore a long sleeve shirt which was soaked in a sticky red liquid.

“James,” You scold him, seeing that he is in fact not okay. He shrugs his coat off before pulling his sleeve up to reveal a heavy gash on his arm, blood still dripping out of it. Your eyes widen at the sight as you grab his shoulders, making him take a seat at the island in the kitchen.

“I panicked when the storm started to hit. Slipped and fell right against my knife,” James winces as he tries to laugh and lighten the situation. You were in no mood though as you tried to think about how to stop the bleeding.

“This is deep James…it's gonna need stitches,” you gently took his arm in your hands, inspecting the wound.

“We can't go out there in that storm…we'll get lost on our way back…there's a first aid kit in the bathroom, some fishing line and a sewing kit in my pack,” James tells you casually. Your eyes went wide as you realized what he's suggesting.

“No..there's no way in hell I'm doing that,” You panic, thinking about trying to stitch James up yourself. He takes a deep breath, trying to control the pain as he looks at you with desperation. You look back at him, thinking for a few moments before looking towards his bleeding arm and letting out a heavy sigh. You march towards the bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit that sat on the sink before coming back out and setting it down. You open it up, taking some gauze out and pressing it to his arm, applying a firm amount of pressure. He winces again, sucking in a breath, his hand flexing a bit as you did.

“The fishing line and sewing kit should be in the front pocket of the bag I left with,” James moves your hand, applying pressure himself as you get up to grab the other items. Your hands shake as you walk back towards him, sitting down in the other chair. You flinch as another loud gust of wind blows against the cabin.

“I trust you,” James says quietly, looking at your face. You look up at him with concern before you pull a needle out, bending it so that it's curved.

“This is gonna hurt like a bitch ya know,” You speak, trying to make yourself feel better about the situation. James removed the blood soaked gauze, grabbing some more to press against his arm. As he tries to get the bleeding to die down you prepare everything you think you'd need. You sterilize the needle over a candle flame before dipping it in rubbing alcohol. You cut a section of fishing line off, letting it soak in the rubbing alcohol for a few minutes with the needle. You gently remove James' hand from his arm, taking a small rag and cleaning the wound the best you could. James sucks in another harsh breath, a strand of curses coming out of his mouth as the alcohol burns the open flesh.

“Sorry,” you say quietly, continuing to clean the wound. The bleeding has almost stopped which means you can attempt to sew him up. You grab the needle, threading the alcohol soaked fishing line through it before grabbing James arm. You hesitate, looking towards him, he gives you a nod and clenches his eyes shut. Slowly, you bring the needle to his skin, hands shaking as you piece the flesh. He flinches, swallowing thickly as he tries to hold back a scream. You stand up from the chair to try and get a better angle as you focus all of your attention on his arm, trying your hardest to stitch him up. With each agonizing minute, James continues to let out curses and the storm rages on outside. His other arm comes up to your waist, gripping it as he drops his head against your side.

“I'm almost done,” You try to reassure him, finishing the last stitch. You set the needle down, wiping the small drops of blood that escaped away. You grab some more of the gauze, securing it tightly around his forearm as you finish up. You run your hand through his hair, causing him to look up at you and towards his arm.

“I don't think I would have been able to do that myself, it's good you were here,” He says quietly, his voice tired and strained.

“Please don't ever make me do that again,” You try to smile, scolding him. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for James to injure himself in one way or another and for you to have to care for his minor injuries. This however was the worst thing he's made you do. He laughs slightly at your words, flexing his hand again as he stares at his covered arm. He keeps his other hand firmly on your waist, his thumb subconsciously rubbing your skin through your sweatshirt.

“My left arm has been through some shit,” James jokes, thinking about the few times he's broken it, the countless stitches he's gotten, and the pyro accident from ‘92. You take his hand in yours, playing with his fingers lightly, the scars from the burn still visible.

“I had to baby you for months after your burn,” You giggle, remembering all the times James was whining about his arm. You were in charge of applying the burn cream and helping him change his clothes for a while. James laughs as he remembers the memories, knowing he was probably over dramatic about it at times, especially if it meant he got attention from you.

He squeezes your side, bringing your attention from his arm back to his face. He had a soft smile, looking over you before bringing his hand up and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Thank you,” He speaks quietly, his hand lingers near your face for a second before he pulls it away, setting it in his lap.

“Of course, I wasn't gonna let you bleed out on the floor,” You smile, taking a seat next to him. The blood that had dripped from his arm onto the table and floor had now soaked into the wood, the vibrant red darkening as it dried. You turn your attention to the window above the sink, seeing that the storm was still raging on. You had almost forgotten about it, too focused on trying to help James.

“I wasn't talking about my arm...just…thank you, for everything you've done for me…being by my side all these years,” He spoke softly, his gaze still lingering on you, watching as you looked out the window. He takes his good hand and grabs one of yours you had resting in your lap, giving it a squeeze. You loop your fingers with his, returning the motion.

“You don't have to thank me for that James, I'll always be here for you.” A silence falls over the cabin as James continues to look at you. You could have sworn you felt your cheeks heat up as he smiled softly at you, his warm hand still looped in yours. You look away, shyly, trying to find something you can turn your attention towards.

“Are you hungry,” You ask him, standing up from your spot and taking your hand away from him. You heard him let out a small sigh, a frown covering his face for a second before he answers and stands up.

“Yeah, I probably need to eat something,” James stumbles slightly as he stands, grabbing the counter for support before he regains his balance. You wondered for a second just how much blood he lost, concern filling you again. You walk over to him, helping him over to the sleeping bags. He slides down against the wall, closing his eyes as he leans his head back against it.

“Are you sure you won't throw up if you eat?” You question, knowing he's probably dizzy and not wanting to make him sick. He doesn't open his eyes but he nods his head.

“I won't throw up,” he gives you a reassuring smile. You turn back towards the kitchen, rummaging through the coolers and bags as you look for something to fix. You pull out a few things, deciding on steak knowing it's his favorite. You wash the cast iron skillet yet again before setting the steaks in the pan with some butter. You took out a knife, being careful as you pry open a can of corn and green beans to pour into a pot to go along with the steak. You set everything on the stove top, throwing another log in, the steak sizzling immediately. James opens his eyes as the smell of it quickly fills the cabin. You had your back turned to him as you stood at the stove, watching the food cook. He watched you as you cooked, loving the way you are always so focused on whatever task you're doing. You occasionally stir the pot with the corn and green beans in it and flip the steak when needed. It only took a few minutes to cook, the high heat from the stove cooking it quickly. Plus James liked his steaks bloody anyway. You plate dinner, and turn around to see him watching you. You step towards him, handing him his plate before sitting down next to him.

James mumbles a small thank you as he takes the plate from your hand and sets it on his lap. James grabs his knife with his left hand, attempting to grasp it so he could cut his steak, but the pain from his arm was still too strong for him to fully grip the knife. You notice his struggles, setting your own plate on your lap before reaching over and taking the knife from him, cutting his steak up into bites for him.

“You're gonna have to be careful to not break any of those stitches until we can leave. I don't want you to start bleeding again,” You tell him as you finish cutting his steak. You turn your attention to your own, cutting it into bite sized bits as well.

“I'll try not to but you know me, I'll end up breaking one by tonight,” He jokes, letting out a small snort as he stabs a piece of steak with his fork and pops it in his mouth.

“You aren't planning on still hunting are you? I'm not letting you go back out there with your arm like that. We'll have to leave in the morning if the storm passes,” James nods his head as he listens to your words but you could tell his mind was in a different place. You assumed he was trying to think of something different to take his mind off of the pain.

“We might get snowed in. I left the snowmobile out in the open so it'll probably get buried tonight,” You think about the snowmobile that sat just outside the cabin. There was a small lean-to over to the side that held chopped wood and had just enough space to park something underneath it. But with the wind blowing so wildly, even if he had parked it under there it would have still been covered. Your heart speeds up as you think about potentially being trapped out here, especially with James’ arm. It was at high risk of infection even if you cleaned everything as thoroughly as you could.

You don't respond to his words, deciding to just quietly eat your food as you think about how you're supposed to get back to where James had parked his truck hundreds of miles away. But the sound of forks scraping against the metal camp plates and James’ somewhat annoying open mouth chewing was enough to keep you from fully focusing on your thoughts.

“Hey, I'll be okay,” James spoke as he sensed your fears. He swallowed another bite, his face already less pale than it was just an hour before. You gave him a weak smile, setting down your fork and grabbing his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze so as to not hurt him further.

“You better be,” You say quietly, you couldn't help the voice crack that came when you spoke, a small tear rolling down your face. You go to quickly wipe it away, looking away from James but he gets to it before you. His trembling hand wipes the tear before he rests his palm fully against your cheek. You couldn't lie to yourself that you were incredibly scared of the situation the two of you were in. James, like always though, was handling it well, being a support for you although it should have been the other way around.

James' thumb strokes your cheek, wiping away another tear as it falls. He removes his hand for a second, grabbing the empty plate from your lap, setting it on top of his and then placing them on the floor, sliding them away.

“Come here,” The words ring familiar to your ears as he had spoken them the night before. He lays down on top of the sleeping bags, opening his arms up for you to lay against him. You don't hesitate to crawl against him, making sure you're on his right side before you lean your head on his chest. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, his hand rubbing up and down them slightly. You reach over to his left hand, grazing your fingers over his bandage before you tangle your fingers with his.

The world seems quiet as you lay in his arms, his breathing and heartbeat the only thing you hear. You glance up at him, he had his eyes closed as he relaxed. The warm glow from the fire cast a shadow over his face making his features seem younger, reminding you of when you were kids. He opens his eyes, and they meet yours, the blue from them piercing through you like ice. Without thinking you lean forward and place a kiss against his lips. They were warmer and softer than you had imagined, the taste of him something you'd never want to forget. You pull away, looking at him. Both of you seemed surprised at what just happened but that doesn't stop him from pulling you back into another one. His hand reaches over and grabs your thigh, trying to pull you on top of him. You don't hesitate to swing your leg over his, your body pressed fully against him as you deepen the kiss.

James wraps both of his arms tightly around you, his hand fully splayed against your back as he tries to pull you impossibly close. The thick layers of fabric covering both of you does nothing to hide his growing boner that is pressed between your legs. You move your hips slightly, grinding down against his causing him to let out a groan against your lips. He forces his tongue into your mouth, fighting for some kind of dominance. James holds you close as he changes positions, flipping you onto your back instead. His hands push under your shirt, causing you to jerk slightly as his cold skin touches yours. You both get lost in the kisses, slowly growing desperate as each second passes. James pulls away just long enough to pull your shirt over your head. He pulls his own off, tossing it to the side before leaning back down to connect your lips again. Your pleasure drunk brain seems to snap out of it as you push his shoulder back.

“James we shouldn't,” You mumble against his lips before pushing him away. His face drops, disappointment covering his features as he sits up. You sit up with him, grabbing his injured arm.

“I want to, but I don't want to hurt you,” You tell him quietly, your own disappointment visible. He watches intently as you run your finger over the gauze again, bringing it up his arm as you trace his tattoos.

“You won't hurt me, you can't hurt me,” he says quietly, goosebumps rising over his skin from your touch and the cold air of the cabin that nips at him. Despite that, he felt hot, his eyes trailing over your exposed torso, your hard nipples poking through the thin bra you wore. You look at him, before looking back at his arm, the gears turning in your head. You push him back so that he's leaning against the wall. He lets you puppet him, watching as your fingers make their way to his belt. His heart rate picks up as you unbuckle it, pulling it out of the loops and tossing it to the side. His boner pressed prominently against the fabric of his jeans, desperate to escape. You graze your hand over it through the fabric, causing his hips to raise. You unbuttoned his pants, slowly dragging them down his legs to expose him fully. You swallow thickly at the sight of him, anxiety and excitement pooling in your stomach as you had never been with someone as large as him. James sticks his fingers through the loops on your jeans pulling you into his lap, desperate to taste you again. You smile at the action, feeling his fingers trail up your back and unclip your bra. You slide it off and before you've even had time to drop it to the floor, James’ mouth is on your breasts. His tongue swipes over your nipples causing you to let out a soft moan. You dig your fingers into his hair, cradling his head as he gives your breast attention. You grind your hips down onto his again making him groan against your chest. He leaves small love bites before looking back at you.

“Take these off,” He says, his eyes never leaving yours as he unbuttons your jeans. You get off of his lap for a second, sliding them off before he immediately pulls you close again. You let out a surprised gasp when you feel his erection rub against your swollen lips. You grip his shoulders, hovering over him slightly before slowly pushing yourself down onto him. He throws his head back against the wall, his eyes squeezing shut from the pleasure. You bite your lip, the stretch was painful but you don't stop.

“Fuck you feel good,” He strains, opening his eyes to look down and watch himself disappear as you sit fully on top of him. You rest your forehead against his, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. One hand plays with the small gray curls that rest at the nape of his neck. His hands grip your hips as he holds himself back from pounding into you. Slowly, you start to rock your hips back and forth, letting yourself get used to his size. James continues to groan with each motion, being more vocal than you imagined.

Admittedly, you were being louder than normal yourself. His cock was thick and long, filling you up more than you had ever been before. The veins from it dragging against your walls, pulsing with each moan he let out. The pressure from the angle was more than you could bear as you cried out, bouncing on his lap. James still had a firm grasp on your hips, helping lift you up before roughly pushing you back down. The smell of sex and the squelching between your legs filled the cabin, making you forget everything else. It hasn't even registered in your brain yet that you were desperately riding your best friend. Years of both of you denying rumors that you were dating being thrown down the drain this very second.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum, Birdie,” James groans, the nickname he gave you years ago rolled out of his mouth with ease but the sound of it on his tongue caused you to clench around him. He quickly wrapped his arms around you, trapping you on top of him as he let out another loud moan, burying his face into your chest. You felt him fill you up, his dick twitching eagerly inside. You brought your hand between your bodies, desperately chasing your own release as your fingers quickly worked themselves against your clit. The feeling of his seed overflowing from your filled walls quickly brought you to your release. You clenched desperately around him again, making him groan from the sensitivity. You drop your head to his shoulder, moaning in his ear as you cum on top of him. You both stay unmoving, gripping each other tightly as you try to catch your breath.

James leans his head back against the wall, causing you to look at him. He gives you a fucked out smile, laughing softly at what just happened. You return the smile, leaning forward to place a kiss on his lips.

“Is this a bad time to tell you I'm bleeding again,” He jokes, looking down at his arm which was smearing blood onto your exposed side. You follow his gaze, watching as the white gauze slowly becomes a vibrant red. Panic sets through you like a deer in headlights, not knowing what to do. You still sat on top of him, his soft dick still being warmed inside your walls. You glance from his arm back to him, seeing the shit eating grin he had on his face.

“I told you I'd break one before the night was over,” He laughs, recalling his earlier words. You give him a stern look, hitting his chest slightly before finally peeling yourself away from him. You both let out one last sigh. You sit down next to him, leaning your side against his as you set his arm in your lap, peeling the bandage away. Only one stitch had broken but it was enough for the bleeding to start again. As you watched it drip down his arm, you felt his cum dripping out of you, causing your face to turn red as the reality of what just happened sets in.

“You're insane,” You tell him quietly, grabbing a blanket to cover your exposed body before you grab the first aid kit again. You didn't think you'd have to put another stitch in since only one had broken. James watched you closely, his eyes lingering over what skin was exposed under the blanket. You sit back down next to him, grabbing more gauze to clean the blood up with before taking a small tube of glue and rubbing it into the exposed part of the wound. You rewrap his arm, setting the first aid kit back by your side.

“I love you,” James speaks softly, his words causing your cheeks to flush. He rests his hand on your thigh, rubbing the skin gently. It wasn't the first time he had spoken those words, but this time they had a different meaning.

“I love you too,” Your voice was hush like his as you rested your head against his bare shoulder and grabbed his hand with yours. He gives your leg a squeeze, kissing your forehead.

“This is going to make Lars happy,” James snorts as he thinks about the situation. Lars had been trying to hook you two up, very unsuccessfully, for years. You laugh as you think about the look the small Danish man will have on his face when he hears about what happened.

You look up at James, a smile still plastered on your face as he meets your gaze, he leans down and connects his lips with yours yet again. The storm outside has died down by now but the wind still blows harshly. The group of wolves from the night before started their duets again, causing you to shiver, but the warmth of James' skin against yours was all you needed to forget your worries.

✭-----------------------------✭

whewh...that was...a lot. I didn't double check spelling or grammar so sorry for any mistakes

#metallica x reader #metallica smut #metallica fanfiction #metallica #james hetfield smut #james hetfield fanfiction #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield #mustainegfcontest1

88 notes · View notes

evereinefaust · 6 months

Text

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬 ࿐ྂ

Pairing: Senku Ishigami X afab!Reader

Synopsis: So, how did MC, an average student, get personally tutored by the genius scientist in school? In math lessons, nonetheless.

Word Count: 4,220

Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock...

You block out the white noise that encompasses the entirety of the classroom; the white noise being⁠—in your vocabulary⁠—your Math teacher, Mr. Ishikawa. You couldn't be bothered to listen to his discussion anymore, seeing that you've been so lost in thought for at most the initial 15 minutes of his class that you practically cannot catch up with the rest of the students. So why not spend the remaining hour doodling and watching as the clock hand goes by? And that, you did.

The middle-aged teacher had noticed your aloofness from the corner of his eyes. He knew that you weren't paying any attention to the lesson at hand, not to mention that you were in contrast to the sea of students who had their heads buried deep in their textbooks. Your [e/c] irises were blankly staring at the wall clock located at the front of the class, just above the board. If others were to observe, they would be convinced that you were paying attention to the mathematical equations scribbled on the chalkboard. In a nutshell, you stuck out like a sore thumb.

The man sighed, easing his headache by gently massaging his temple. The midterms were coming right up, and he feared that his students wouldn't have enough time to prepare and study for the test. To say that he's slightly concerned is an understatement; he's anxious for them. The majority of students had problems with the Math lessons this semester, and he couldn't blame them. Imagine having to memorize more than 10 formulas and being expected for to stay with you until you use it on exam day. And that's not all, you also have to familiarize yourself with the terms used and avoid confusing it with another.

He knew that his students would pay attention to the lesson and try to catch up as much as possible, but what he didn't expect was you be absentminded and have your head up in the clouds in his subject: Mathematics. Mr. Ishikawa never doubted your intelligence as a student; you are averaging and have no problems with Math, though a bit confused at times, but nothing that you couldn't get your head around. However, at a critical time like this, he can't help but reprimand your behavior later.

Ding... Ding... Ding... Dong...

Finally, the awaited hour at last. The school bel⁠l's chimes resonated around the whole campus, enveloping the students and faculty members alike with its gentle, relaxing tune. A sigh escaped your pink lips as you glanced at the time for the last time. 3:15 in the afternoon, meaning, the dreaded period has ended and you can finally go on to your merry way. Mr. Ishikawa stood up from his seat and faced the students, addressing his concerns about the upcoming exams. After, he had dismissed your class.

You immediately fixed your belongings inside your black shoulder bag⁠—not that you have a lot to return inside since you zoned out from the last period⁠—and stood up from your seat. Bringing the strap over your shoulder, you watched as your classmates headed out from the back door, leaving only a few, you included, inside. You were about to take a step towards the exit when a stern voice called you.

"Miss [L/n]."

You visibly flinched at the tone of his voice—serious and firm. It was the usual setting between student and teacher, although the way that it was delivered to you made you unsettled. It's like you've been caught red-handed by your parents, only this time, you didn't even know what you did wrong.

You whipped your head back to the older male at his table, dark blue eyes boring holes into your soul. You were tense but still decided to wear a convincing confused front, masking your anxiety effectively.

"Yes, sensei?"

"Please come here for a second. I need to address you about something."

The way that he motioned you over or the fact that he had his finger on his temple didn't look like it was going to be good news of some sort. You swallow a small lump in your throat as you saunter to where the teacher is. You surely didn't get into trouble, right?

"What it is you wanted to talk about, sensei?" You cautiously queried, becoming more anxious than you already were.

"Miss [L/n], I know that you're a hardworking student and your grades in Math aren't that bad. However⁠," Mr. Ishikawa spared a glance at his student, observing your bodily cues. "⁠—it seems that you weren't paying attention in class today. Is something the matter? I know that lessons this semester are quite difficult, but please be aware that midterms are approaching. I don't want your grades to be in danger, especially in my subject."

You pursed your lips at his words. You didn't hate him or his subject in any way. Although Math has given you quite the difficulty⁠—no, wait, scratch that⁠. It is literal hell⁠—you still manage to bring your grades up even just a bit. You consider yourself as just average in the subject, not that smart to constantly have an achievement, nor dumb to fail. It's just so-so, enough to let you pass. However, it seems that your grades are suffering and on the verge of failing.

You weren't so sure what the cause might be, or if you were to blame in this situation. Nevertheless, the news is certainly not good for your ears to hear. You glanced at the oakwood floor for a while, before returning your attention to the teacher.

"I'm sorry, sensei. There's nothing wrong. I just feel overwhelmed with the subject that I tend to space out," giving a sincere bow, you explained your reasoning.

Mr. Ishikawa's calculating gaze didn't leave you for a bit, making you shuffle slightly in your spot. He then let out an exasperated sigh, his hand waving dismissively. "No matter, it doesn't change the fact about your grades and midterms. If things were to continue like this, you'd surely fail my subject. I'd recommend that you have someone to tutor you in the meantime, in that way, you won't fail."

The male before you gave you a knowing look. You weren't quite fond of having a tutor, to say the least, especially when if it's someone you don't know. But, what other options do you have? It's not like you want to fail in your second year of high school. So with a squeamish heart, you spoke, "...Alright."

"Great. I'm sure that Mister Ishigami won't mind tutoring you," with that said, Mr. Ishikawa flashed you a smile as he fixed his books.

Pink flushed across your cheeks at the mention of the student. Sure, you and the leek-haired genius were friends for like, years. But just pondering about the thought of him tutoring you sent you into overdrive. You secretly had a crush on the male since but didn't have enough courage to confess the feelings. Just acting normal was tough when every time, you're being assaulted by your hormones to do something intimate to him. So spending time with him tutoring you was something you haven't imagined, even in your wildest dreams.

The sudden screech of metal against the wooden floor broke you out of your trance. Facing the teacher once again, he patted you on the shoulder and stepped out of his seat, pushing the chair further into the work desk.

"I'll be leaving now. Be careful on your way home, Miss [L/n]. And please don't forget our discussion, alright?"

You bowed your head. "Yes, sensei."

"Good," a smile etched on his aged face.

Your gaze trailed upon Mr. Ishikawa's back as he walked out the front door, probably heading back to the faculty room. You let your eyes linger on the closed sliding door, before releasing a huff of annoyance. Gripping your bag strap, you trudged over the aperture and exited the classroom.

The hallway was seemingly empty, considering that your earlier discussion took more than five minutes. Your [e/c] eyes observed the surroundings as you walked⁠—cream-colored walls, wooden oak floorboards, metal plaque located above each room to indicate the room name, and sliding doors with windows. You muttered in each room as you passed by them, boredom lacing in your tone.

"Class 2-2, class 2-3, literature club, library..." An exasperated sigh escaped your lips after, noticing that there was no more classroom by the end of the hall.

Your feet immediately turned a swift left into another hallway, only this time, you were met with a familiar person. You recognized the skinny young man with his iconic anti-gravity leek hair with two locks that drape over his face. He had his hands in his pockets while staring at the floorboard, seemingly lost in thought⁠—you noted. Yet, despite him not noticing you, just the sight of the teenager made your face flush.

Eventually, the student turned his gaze to the front, landing on nothing else but you. The surprise was written over his expression, but he nevertheless smirked at the sight of his best friend. "Well, isn't this a surprise? I was 10 billion percent sure that you're on your way home right now."

You playfully rolled your eyes at him, stopping just a meter from your best friend. "Well, apparently, your calculations were off since I'm here right now."

"Let me guess, waiting for me?" the male said, placing his hand on his chin as if thinking. Though the smirk on his face never left, making your blush redden.

"Sorry, but I wasn't boy genius," you let out a scoff, crossing your arms as you tried to cool down your cheeks. "I would be delighted if that's the case since you're nowhere to be seen during the last period. Speaking of which, where were you during Math?"

"Since the school's Science competition is nearing, every teacher gave us, the Science club, permission to spend the last period preparing for the competition," Senku explained, placing his hands on his hips as he did so. "So being the club president, I was at our club room for the hour."

You nodded in understanding. But soon, your lips contorted into a pout, eyebrows creasing to accentuate your hidden indignation. "How nice. I wish I could escape the Math period as well."

"Silly," without warning, Senku flicked your forehead which earned him a surprised yelp. "You know that you can't just skip the subject. So tell me, what makes you upset this time?"

Despite Senku's remarks and occasional forehead flicking, you knew that he was genuinely concerned about you, especially your studies. Sure, he would appear arrogant and overbearing, often annoying you about your oh-so-average grades, but there isn't just a moment when he didn't help you improve. Not to mention that he's so observant about you that he can point out your cues and even know what you're feeling at the moment. That's why you admire the boy so much.

A frown replaced your pouting lips at his words, slumping your shoulder a bit. "I was held back to discuss something with Ishikawa-sensei."

"And that is?" he quirked a brow, prodding you to explain further.

"Ishikawa-sensei told me about my grades, and apparently, it's suffering. So for me to pass the upcoming tests, he advised that I should get someone to tutor me in the meantime," an annoyed sigh escaped your lips after that statement.

"If that's your concern then you don't have to worry about it too much. Overthinking might lead to losing more brain cells."

"Hey!" you shouted at him, offended by his sarcastic remarks.

"No need to shout at me, [Name]. Geez! I was only joking," he pulled up his hands in surrender. "Besides, you already have me. Who else helps you study, silly?"

Your [e/c] hues stared at the male's face, still not quite convinced. A pout graced your lips while your cheeks were red in embarrassment. Eyebrows still creased up, indicating your agitation. Senku didn't bother to move an inch under your heated stare. The boy knew all too well about your tendencies and antics, and this one of them.

The moment lasted for another minute when Senku broke your trance with his iconic smirk. This made you blink in surprise as realization fell on you; you'd been staring at your best friend's devilishly attractive features for too long. You instantly flared at this, moving your head back while averting your gaze somewhere but him.

God, couldn't you be a little more cautious around him? You're ogling him in front of his face! Isn't that super embarrassing? Whatever excuse your head came up with, you couldn't justify your earlier action by any means. So instead of speaking, you decided to remain silent until he spoke first. Damn, your teenage hormones.

"What? Too embarrassed to have me as your tutor?" Senku mused. Despite you being unable to see his face, just hearing the teasing tone of his voice is enough to know that a smirk was still on his face.

You were close to snapping back at him, but you held your tongue back at the realization. It dawned on you a moment after his claim that he was volunteering to tutor you in Math. You were beyond baffled. Sure, the two of you occasionally spend time reviewing and studying, but that was way too long ago. Considering that he's always busy in his club and studies, you concluded that you should just leave him be⁠—not bothering to ask him to help you study.

"Wai⁠—w-what?" you whipped your head back at him, face covered in a red hue.

Senku just sighed. "You told me about your grade problem, right? So to help you study, I'll be tutoring you starting today."

Your eyes widened at his claim. Surely, your mind isn't just making up the scenario, right? Admittedly, due to your annoying hormones, you once imagined being tutored by this leek genius at school in private⁠. And not only that, but your dirty mind also added another scenario following that. But we'll never speak of it any further.

"Can't it be tomorrow?" you whined, pleading him with your puppy eyes to at least let him save you from further embarrassment. Who might know? Your hormones might initiate something you wouldn't want to happen.

"No, the earlier, the better," he retorted, grabbing your hand and dragged you inside an empty, unused classroom. "You will improve quickly this way, I'm 10 billion percent certain."

You just swallowed a lump in your throat as he led the way, nervous sweat rolling down from your forehead as your heart sped up. Your head was swirling with dirty thoughts and different scenarios. Once the two of you entered the room, you shook your head, ridding yourself of those thoughts, and tried to focus on the situation at hand.

Your eyes observed the classroom⁠—even though it was unused, it wasn't overall bad. The room had a total of 20 desks with five chairs in each row, a rather small chalkboard on the front, a shelf that stores personal belongings at the back, and a storage cabinet at the farthest corner. You sat on an empty chair in the front row as you were instructed to. Taking out a notebook, the Math textbook, and a pen, you then set down your belongings on the table while placing the bag on the ground.

A frown made unto your face at the idea. Sure, you wanted help with your current problem, but you aren't that obliged to start the tutoring session right away. You thought that maybe you could have a day or two without worrying about your brain exploding from information overload. Though it seems that Lady Luck has long abandoned you.

A comfortable silence settled between you two. Senku scanned the vicinity to find⁠—what you guessed as⁠—chalks while you were watching him. You hadn't noticed it earlier, but now you knew that the male wasn't wearing the usual uniform, nor his iconic lab coat.

"Why aren't you in your uniform, Senku?" you asked, trying to spark up a casual conversation before getting down to studying.

"We made a miscalculation with the project, and then one thing leads to another, then kaboom⁠—" the leek-haired replied, rummaging through the storage cabinet and found the item he's looking for. "⁠—We're all covered in dust that's why I decided to change."

"Oh."

"Anyways, let's start," Senku announced as he made his way to the front. "I'm guessing that the lesson is still about 'Estimation of Parameters', right?"

You nodded in reply, opening the textbook to what you assumed was the last lesson discussed. "Ishikawa-sensei discussed 'Calculating the Confidence Interval', I think. I wasn't listening."

Your best friend let out a disapproving sigh. "No wonder you need a tutor."

"Eh, not my fault that Math's scummy and difficult to understand," you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him.

"No, it isn't. You're just not paying attention during lessons," he deadpanned.

"No. And yes, I'm paying attention. Why do I even pass the exams if I wasn't?" you quipped back.

"Who knows? Maybe it's just your abundant amount of sheer luck," the male shrugged before facing the board. "Anyway, I don't have even a millimeter of interest arguing with you. So please listen to me as I review the basics of this unit. We don't want you to fail now, do we?"

The deliberate side glance Senku gave you made you huff in annoyance. You were about to resort to another snappy remark earlier if it wasn't for his immediate interruption. You two knew all too well that once either of you started something, it wouldn't be the end of it. So instead of a peaceful study session, it might've ended up in a full-blown squabble between you two. Slumping deep in your seat, you watched as Senku scribbled formulas and definitions on the board with a blank look on your face.

Senku started to re-discuss the lesson shortly after, with you trying to catch up with his explanation and take some notes as he continued. The male would often pause or slow down his speech as he waited for you to comprehend the lecture. He would also approach you and inspect your progress, checking out any errors that you've made and aid you with some tips for the solution. At first, it didn't seem so bad, until you came to a certain point where your brain could not grasp the new information anymore.

It didn't take you an hour to zone out from the seemingly long lecture. The fact that the young scientist was busy writing down the next sample problem gave you the spare time to take a trip to fantasy land. The scraping of the white chalk against the wooden board was the only sound that you could hear.

"First, identify the variables before substituting the formula. It's crucial to know which is the mean, standard deviation, and the sample size," the teenage male instructed, writing down the solutions with his left hand resting on his hip.

You began to tune out his voice by this point, boredom was visible on your blank [e/c] irises that were staring downward. You propped up against your right elbow on the table, resting your cheek on the base of your palm. Holding up the pen in your left hand, you let your thumb graze the tip before pushing it down.

Click! Click! Click!

Senku turned around at the soft sound that distracted him, his crimson hues landing upon the female he was tutoring. He noticed that you've let out a disinterested sigh, continuing your small ministration. Senku's eyebrow twitched a bit, silently face-palming—you will surely be the end of him.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Footsteps echoed inside the room as a certain male trudged over to where his best friend sat. Once he's in front of your desk, he gently—but still making sure to produce enough sound to alert the girl—slammed his right hand on the wooden table while the other made its way under your chin. Placing his thumb below your parted lips and folded index finger below your chin, he slowly lifts your head, forcing you to make eye contact with his mesmerizing ruby jewels.

Your cheeks heated up at the unexpected intimate gestures; your eyes were wide as saucers as you willingly stared at Senku, your soft lips were parted out of shock, your heart racing inside of your chest, while your brain could not comprehend the situation at hand. Senku's face was just a few inches from yours, making it accessible for you to observe his flawless features; the stray locks of greenish-white hair that gently draped over his face as his eyebrows were scrunched up in a frown, crimson orbs contained disappointment and concern. You could've sworn that you weren't even breathing at this point due to the unexpected turn of events.

"[Name]..." he started, voice gentle as he chided you. "How can you pass the upcoming exam if you don't pay attention to me?"

You could've sworn that your brain interpreted that differently. Surely, he only meant about him explaining the lesson, right? But then why did the red hue across your cheeks darken? And most importantly, when did he start to sound so concerned about you? If you could remember correctly, never did he ever do this kind of thing to you. Like ever. So why the change? Honestly, your mind was brewing a lot of questions that you're pretty sure wouldn't get answered at all.

The two of you stared at each other's eyes for another minute before you broke the interaction by shyly averting your gaze away. You pursed your quivering lips, the sound of your heartbeat ringing in your ears. Senku disregarded your initial reaction and decided to pull back. He isn't an idiot; he knew that you were a bit uncomfortable and flustered at his action.

"[Name], you need to pay attention when I'm teaching. Or else you won't pass the midterms," the male sighed, pulling a nearby chair and setting it beside the girl, sitting on it after. "Maybe it's better if I teach you this way."

However, you didn't respond to his remark, feeling your face flush red at this proximity. Senku resumed tutoring you—his whole attention on you and your notes which you found embarrassing. You didn't hate this setup, however, it made it difficult for you to focus on the lecture when your [e/c] hues kept stealing glances at your crush.

An hour later, the young genius eventually ended the session. Both of you prepared to go home—you fixed your things while Senku erased the writings on the board. After that, the two of you exited the room and walked in a comfortable silence through the halls. Your [e/c] hues glanced outside the window, witnessing the sun descending behind the horizon. The palette of orange, yellow, pink, and violet decorated the evening sky, providing you a sense of warmth and serenity. Your mind wandered back to earlier events, a slight scarlet hue spread across your warm cheeks.

Letting out a contented sigh, you gaze back on the front. By this time, you've noticed that you and your best friend were out of the campus and heading home. Once more, you stole a glance at the male beside you. Senku was facing forward, his ruby orbs intently locked on the path both of you were heading. The way that the yellowish-orange rays adorned his features gave off a gentle glow. You didn't notice a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips at this sight.

"Well, this is home," you chirped once the two of you arrived at your street.

Senku halted at your announcement, his eyes landing on your petite back. You stayed standing for a moment before turning around to the male and stepping closer into his personal space. Senku closely watched you as you leaned in, pressing your soft lips against his pale cheeks. It happened so quickly that when the male finally registered the occurrence, you were already on your heel and ran away from him. His cheeks bloomed to a shade of scarlet at your bold gesture. Surely, he wasn't expecting this interaction to happen.

A smile adorned his handsome features, soft crimson hues staring at your faraway silhouette. "Well, this is exhilarating."

#fanfiction #fanfic #alternate universe #oneshot #one shot #reader insert #x reader #fluff #drabble #female reader #senku ishigami #senku #ishigami senku #dr stone

76 notes · View notes

average-riot · 1 year

Text

I actually wasn't expecting some silly sketchbook doodles on an au which I didn't even explain properly to get that many notes!! 😭 but here we are, so with a drumroll please...!

Hi ! This is an actual-actual post on my au :)

My bicgest focus on this AU is definitely Noah and Alejandro which I'm not even ashamed in admitting to, but to get this started...

A Separate Peace is a book written in 1958, set during WWII, in all-boys boarding school, which follows Gene (in our case, Noah) and Finny (in our case, Alejandro!). I've heard from a friend it's actually school required reading in some places in the USA, but I'm not fully sure! However, I hope at least some people have read it before, considering it's such a good book...

For an easier time reading this, I'll be use Noah and Alejandro's names, instead of Gene or Finny, when explaining the plot! ✨️

It's all even more striking when he keeps dragging this sullen little thing after him

Both 16, Noah, and Alejandro strike an unlikely friendship during their summer session of 42'. Despite veing roommates, anyone would be lying if they claimed there was no difference between the two: While Noah carries a studious life full of cynicism, there's nothing Alejandro won't do. Full of charisma and athleticism, there is not one person on campus who would not recognize Alejandro's endeavours and who doesn't absolutely adore them.

There's not one single scheme which Alejandro proposes which Noah can refuse to participate in, albeit his existence. That included the creation of the Super Suicide Society of the Summer Session. Not as foreboding as it sounds, really- All in all. Just a club full of boys doing things considered mildly dangerous. Fighting rough, jumping from high places, playing the most obscure games.

So, then, where's the issue again?

You could suppose it's jealousy. Although Noah would hardly admit to that claim. He'd rather call it doubtfulness, as there is much to doubt. What causes someone like Alejandro to stick by him? Surely he has a plan. Surely he's just showing off.

It starts with two boys standing on the branches of a tree, Alejandro almost ready to jump off into the stream of the river below. The climax is a little more weight put forward, subtle, destabilization of the sacred place they both stood on, from Noah. And the scene closes with a fall, a broken leg, and denial.

But that doesn't mean an ending, no.

Autumn's coming, after all !

There's more characters, of course, and some people who I've already assigned! Alongside a few other pieces of art. I could technically put the entire plot of the book in here, but I think I'd rather do that over multiple posts, with a bunch of little art pieces— or maybe even start a fanfic on AO3 to sort of document everything!

But I'm definitely doing more about this. <3 ty for reading and paying even some attention to this silly little project

#art #digital art #writing #total drama #total drama island #total drama world tour #td #tdi #tdwt #td noah #td alejandro #alejandro burromuerto #td alenoah #alenoah #this probably needs its own tag so it doesn't get lost within my other stuff #a separate drama #probably #?#thats the only thing I can come up with I'm not creative ok.

218 notes · View notes

leonenjoyer69 · 5 months

Text

M...More Whole/Mind Jekyll.. Doodles...

That side profile fuckin ATE 🗣️ twink lookin ahh. ANYWAYS, I changed some things from the initial drawing of him (yk, this one), for example! His hair is a bit longer and puffier now, including his side burns, to more resemble Hyde. Also, his hair has become a lot lighter than Henry's, somewhere between normal Jekyll and Hyde's color (or it may be a gradient from the brown to blond, haven't decided yet). Only his right eye ever really shows, which is the green one with the red tint, while his other hidden eye is red with a green tint. Still got the unbuttoned shirt and waistcoat (which outside of the mind scape would be a dull red probably), along with the bandages.

(Also, Mind Lanyon, despite being far more annoying than real Lanyon, and sometimes acting weird af, is probably one of the few things in the mind scape that calms Whole Jekyll (Mind Lanyon sometimes calls him Harry, for clarity) down from his seemingly perpetual scared, desperate, and paranoid state.)

Anyways, ig he's one of my new babygirls 💀💀 my little stringy boy. I didn't even really intend on turning him into any type of OC, but here we are.

#tgs #oc: “whole” jekyll #jekyll and hyde #the glass scientists #dr jekyll and mr hyde #henry jekyll #my art

55 notes · View notes

stop-talking · 6 months

Text

Mike & Abby Easter Headcannons

---------------------------------------

• Mike always hides eggs for her. Without fail. Every year. He probably enjoys hiding them more than she enjoys finding them, honestly.

• He's super annoying about not just TELLING her where one is when she can't find it, he'll just go "warmer..." or "colder...!" until she gets fed up and throws empty plastic eggshells at him.

• Abby knows the Easter bunny isn't real. She's not dumb. But it's a fun tradition, and she's willing to play pretend for as long as Mike is.

• Mike never busy himself any Easter candy. He "doesn't need the extra calories". Yet every year without fail, he ends up bumming Abby for candy, stealing a chocolate here and there. (She acts annoyed, but secretly doesn't mind sharing.)

• The first time Mike showed Abby the "draw with white crayon on an egg before dyeing it and the dye won't stick there" trick, she thought he was magic. Now, she draws a doodle on every single egg before dunking it in the colored water. Mike always makes comments on how they look "too good to eat," then eats one before they're even done dying them anyways.

• Once he forgot where he hid one of the hard boiled eggs... until it stank up the front porch. He nearly gagged when he found it two weeks later, tucked into an old flowerpot.

• Easter is like, the one time a year Mike drags Abby to church... If only for the giant egg hunt they host. He definitely has some kind of religious guilt from not going more often, but he's just too busy and tired. (He used to use Abby as an excuse, since she refused to sit still when she was younger. Now that she's older, he could go, but just doesn't care to. Neither does Abby.)

• (Post-movie) He and Abby happened to run into someone dressed as the Easter bunny outside of, like Walmart. And it just so happened to be a YELLOW bunny. Mike jumped two feet in the air and nearly pissed himself, and Abby just laughed at him. The guy in the costume thought it was hilarious to see a grown man so scared of a bunny, and the high-five he gave Abby made Mike just want to punch him. He didn't, thankfully.

How Mike would treat his 💙partner💙 on Easter:

(slight NSFW warning)

• He'd definitely make you an Easter basket. Nothing super fancy or expensive, he spends most of his budget on Abby. But he'd make sure you feel included and appreciated.

• Your basket would include: Your favorite candy, a pack of gum, something related to one of your hobbies, (ex: guitar pick, yarn, nail polish, colored pencils, etc), a cheesy hand-written note, a few plastic eggs with candy, a small stuffed animal, and a savory snack, like chips or pretzels. He's attentive, and knows what you prefer.

• Depending on how long you've been dating, he might even throw in something a little raunchy... like a pack of flavored condoms, lube, or a "toy". More as a gift to himself than you.

• He'd absolutely let you spend Easter with him and Abby, but wouldn't pressure you if you wanted to be with your family. If YOU invited HIM to spend the day with YOUR family, though? He'd fucking melt. ESPECIALLY if they were warm and welcoming to him. It'd make him cry like a baby to see Abby getting along with the other kids.

---------------------------------------------

Happy Easter to those who celebrate!! I thought about writing a whole fic on this but just don't have time. If anyone wants to steal these ideas, be my guest. Love y'all!! 💖

#mike schmidt #micheal schmidt #mike fnaf #fnaf mike #abby fnaf #fnaf abby #abby schmidt #abby fnaf movie #fnaf movie abby #fnaf movie mike #mike fnaf movie #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt headcanons #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x reader

122 notes · View notes

searivermountain · 6 days

Text

changed the header. I do a lot of short doodles because they're a way to relax right now. I feel like I'm putting too much pressure on the Jooster tag, so I'm wondering if I should just post them without adding anything.

I've been an introverted fan (including other works) for a long time, so I might not know the proper etiquette for posting doodles in public.

At the same time, there are few Japanese here, so I feel very open-minded. Maybe I should create a sub-blog and lock it down? For now, I'll leave it like this.

By taking this opportunity to increase my exposure to English, I was able to understand most of the simple English interviews I saw on TV without the aid of subtitles. I was impressed because, although there were words I didn't understand, I was able to understand the flow of the sentences. Perseverance is power. I think this is a very good effect, so I hope I can improve even more.

21 notes · View notes

dross-the-fish · 8 months

Text

I found myself thinking of Jekyll today and wondering if it causes him physical pain to have to fake a smile. To what extent is Henry Jekyll, pleasant doctor and sophisticated upperclass gentleman a painful mask he has to wear and does the discomfort ever feel physical?

I was at the local aquarium today (this is the perfect time of year to go because it's open but there are no tourists so it's never crowded and admission is cheap) hanging out and doodling on one of the benches while I watched the fish. I had on headphones to listen to an audio book and to provide a buffer between myself and anyone who might try to talk to me and I had been looking forward to relaxing for a couple of hours when a family walked up and the father waved his hand in front of my face to get my attention. The minute they started asking me questions about what I was drawing I was filled with what I can only describe as intense dismay.

Obviously the family being present isn't in of itself an issue, it's a public aquarium, it's aimed at families and parts of the aquarium are geared specifically at children, but the family noticed me drawing and stopped to talk to me.

I reiterate that this was not something they did wrong, they were just being friendly, but I was really not prepared to have a conversation and I found the whole ordeal to be...well an ordeal. They were interested in what I was drawing (a sketch of Henry Jekyll because he's been on my mind off and on) and just the thought of having to explain who this character was, hoping they got it, and having to potentially explain why I was drawing him felt overwhelming.

And it was, they did not know who Henry Jekyll was, they were vaguely aware of Jekyll and Hyde but weren't the type of people to read classic literature and had never heard of the musical or actually seen for themselves any movies featuring the character. The mom commented that he looks like "a Disney villain from back in the 90s" which...fair assessment, I can't pretend I don't see why she would have thought that. The older kid was probably the most interested and wanted to see more of my drawings which made me really uncomfortable but I let him look through my sketchbook anyway because his parents kept saying he was interested in drawing and he loves art and I felt too anxious to say no.

I made small talk with the parents for a while, all the usual, "what's your name, where you from, what's your job?" (I hate those questions, they are usually the least interesting things about any people, myself included) and I wondered if this is what Henry does on a regular day. Has ordinary conversations with reasonably nice people and feel completely like a fish out of water the whole time. I felt pretty terrible about it too, I didn't have any hard feelings or resentment but the whole time I was thinking "Stop touching my things, go away, please fucking leave so I can get back to my audio book and my drawing. I just wanted to sit with the fish for a few hours because it's supposed to be quiet here this time of year."

No one ever seems to catch on that physically talking to people is an effort for me. I've gone my whole life and no one has ever noticed that I'm anxious or uncomfortable in situations where I have to speak out loud because I've gotten good at faking small talk and I know how to make my voice sound pleasant.

It's strange because I express myself easily enough in writing and I like messaging with people over text but the minute I have to be verbal with people I don't know I feel like I'm putting on an immense effort. I have to consciously choose a tone, figure out what words I want to say, be ready with an explanation in case I'm asked questions and I have to do all of it in real time on the spot. It feels like improve, like I'm constantly doing an improve routine and I know most people would say "Just be yourself!" But myself doesn't want to be doing this at all. Myself wants to be drawing and looking at fish. Even as a child I was never very social, I liked to doodle or daydream or build with my lego sets. I got reprimanded a lot for being too quiet. So I made myself more talkative and learned how to hold conversations. I learned to blend in but it's so tiring at times and I can swear when it's at its worst it feels almost physical. The discomfort becomes a suffocating "texture" on my skin and in my brain and I have to keep pretending like I don't notice it because every time I try to articulate how I feel people don't understand it. It's just not a thing they experience.

So I just keep "acting normal," and wonder if there's something wrong with me, like I'm operating on a different frequency from the people around me and I'm the only one on that frequency so other people don't even know it exists. It's...incredibly isolating at times. Even my partner doesn't seem to hear the world as loud as I do or experience the "texture" it's just a strange THING that I'm stuck with by myself. I wonder if it was the same for Henry Jekyll? Except instead being of too quiet he was too loud, too boisterous, threw tantrums, didn't know when to stop rambling about anatomy and weird gross medical facts. So he learned how to cover it and move through life pretending to be interested in everyone else but keenly aware they could never share his interests because his favorite subjects were too grisly and if he started talking about diseases he'd put everyone off. I head-canon Jekyll loves what he does, but he doesn't love it for reasons a doctor should, he doesn't care that much about healing the sick, he cares about conquering illnesses, he likes to learn about symptoms, he enjoys the disgusting viscera of his work. But he can't let on that this is what he enjoys about his work because that's not noble or heroic, it's something most people would find creepy of him. So he buries it and pretends he cares about curing the sick. He pretends he enjoys talking to people who don't know anything about who he is or what he does but they think they do because they are aware of doctors and understand that medicine exists. All the time he loathes it, it exhausts him and he can't even indulge in activities he enjoys to blow of steam because he enjoys things like brawling, doing drugs, and fucking. All things a man of his status shouldn't be seen doing. There's an image people associate with Henry Jekyll and it's an image he can't afford to tarnish...

but it's not really HIS image, it's just a buffer he keeps up to make himself more palatable. I wonder if that ever hurts him physically, if the mask ever feels like a "texture" muffling him.

there are times when I feel like it's no wonder he wasn't repulsed by Hyde when he first saw his reflection. Because I can only imagine by the time Hyde showed up he was already completely burnt out on being Jekyll.

#kind of a vent #kind of headcanon talk #jekyll and Hyde ponderings

64 notes · View notes

crystal-rebellion · 1 month

Text

So - as some of you may be painfully aware, I am very, very slow about posting chapters to my stories, sometimes even years on them. But they ARE still active, and I do still have ideas and drafts and... stuff.

And I got to thinking - I do quite a few prompts and little one-off scenes, things that don't have a place in a story, or might be used in one later, etc. That's... sort of the equivalent of a warm-up sketch or a doodle, right? And people share doodles and sketches all the time.

So I think I'll do the same. Start sharing more of my 'warm up sketches' and 'doodles' - or drabbles if you will.

I do have a list of prompts I've already done here, and will probably be adding these to it.

Found this in my google docs from about four years ago, including a screenshot of the Lotura Discord server discussion that started it. (Permission granted from the lovely folks featured here to share on Tumblr)

So I did. Drabble below the cut. 👇👇👇

"My queen!"

Allura glanced up from the book in her lap as the Drulish guardsman saluted in utter reverence.

"Yes?"

As he rose from his deep bow, Allura closed the heavy tome in her lap worriedly and rose to her feet. Setting the information aside, she began to approach the intimidating, armored soldier.

"I am pleased to inform you, your husband and children have returned."

Allura felt the wind leave her lungs as relief crashed into her body. She nearly crumpled on the spot; barely catching the back of the chair with her palm to support her weight.

"Thank the heavens," she murmured, quickly brushing away the tears that budded in the corners of her eyes.

"They will be landing on platform Beta in approximately twenty minutes. ...We thought we saw them on the radar much earlier but... we didn't want to give you false information until we had their landing clearance in hand. It is, in fact, them."

"Thank you," she murmured, holding her composure together long enough for the guard to salute and leave her in peace.

She collapsed back into the chair, sobs racking her form as sheer joy radiated from her in a manner she could not properly articulate. Lotor and their children - elder daughter and younger son - had been on their first Campaign for nearly a month. She and Lotor had gone in circles on the tradition of conquering planets, and the war couple had finally settled on a medium; the children would indulge in the cultural tradition, but only a modest amount of spoils would be taken - and absolutely no enslavement. The "conquered" planets would easily be able to recover, but the children could practice their skill in the process and honor half their heritage.

The decision not to join them had been twofold - she wasn't the right person to help teach them the ways, and she feared she might interfere more than help. Moreover, if both governing royals of the Empire were to disappear, chaos would be left in their wake. She had reluctantly, dutifully, stayed behind to attend to the ministrations of government.

It had been a lonely endeavor; the first day had left her excited, wondering what he and the children might be up to. The second day was equally full of curiosity and wonder. As the days bled to weeks, and the weeks to a month... her ambition and eagerness turned to melancholy and sorrow. As chaotic as the young ones running about the castle could be, the reprieve from them unpredictable was short-lived. She missed the confusion, the Drulish activity, the discord and the eventfulness. While her first night alone had resulted in an uninterrupted spa day, complete with an elegant soak in the bath - it had rapidly deteriorated. Nights felt cold without her husband, and days felt bleak without her children.

Finally, they were home. Safe. Sound. And home.

Allura brushed away the tears once more and stood upright, smoothing out her gown and adjusting her hair before departing the room.

Swift, intense strides made quick work of the distance between her and Platform Beta. She entered the deck as the familiar warcraft touched down. Her hands clasped tightly over her chest when her heart fluttered, the steel door closing behind the vessel. Wind whipped around her, flaring her gown and hair as everything settled into place. The familiar hiss of the vessel depressurizing to match the planet's pressure sounded, and the bridge unfurled from the entry.

At the top appeared three familiar figures; Lotor in his finest armor, Alenna in a similarly matching dress, and Mero; the 'softest' of the two. He wore no armor, preferring the vestments of the diplomats.

"Now. Which one of you can go hug your mother first?"

Shrieks of laughter caught the queen by surprise, and despite her understanding of the culture she had married into, she found herself flat on her back with her two children clutching her torso desperately, each declaring victory over the other. A laugh broke from her throat and she enveloped them both in her arms, sitting up right and drawing them close.

"I'm so happy you have returned, my dears," she murmured against them, breathing deeply to block the flood of emotion that threatened to overthrow her. "How was your first Conquest?"

She blinked as shrieks of chatter bloomed up from both the kids, Alenna the most animated of the two. Allura only laughed, kissing them both on the temple, much to their disapproval. At the sound of Lotor's bootsteps, the children peeled off their mother just in time for him to extend his palm down to her. Gracefully, she took it, eagerly allowing him to pull her into his arms, his lips catching hers with no warning - not that she expected any.

"I missed you so much," he murmured between gasps for air.

Allura was barely aware of the noise of disgust the children had made at the sight of their parents snogging before they ran off as she laced her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer.

"You have no idea," she replied.

Bonus:

--One Month Earlier--

"Absolutely not."

"Allura. My sweet, Surely you must realize how important this is for the children, especially Alenna! It's a rite of passage for her! Mero has a few years, but he could benefit from seeing Alenna's Hunt."

Allura shuddered, brushing off Lotor's hands.

"That's so vile, the way you word it. Hunt. Spree. Conquering. You sound so gleeful about it, as if you enjoy it as a sport."

"...Allura. We do."

She flashed him a dangerous look, her temper riling.

"Yes, you'll have to forgive me, my sweet," she quite sneered the words back to him, her temper elevated to a level he had not seen since their courtship. "I was on the other end of that spree as you call it. I forbid it. No child of mine will be plundering another world. No chance."

Lotor exhaled in frustration, pacing away from his furious wife.

"What about - "

"Never."

"Hear me out," he added gently, his lips curling into a bemused smirk at her fire. When she said nothing, her gaze blazing dangerously on him, he continued. "What if they practiced the tradition - and!" He held up his hands as she began to interject. "Left everything behind."

Allura blinked, the swell of fury deflating as she considered his words.

"You mean commit to the sport, but take no trophies?"

"Well, perhaps a bit of gold here or a pretty jewel there... but no, nothing like it used to be."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously on him.

"Absolutely zero living spoils."

"Of course, I didn't think you'd like your children bringing back slaves to serve you."

"Lotor-"

Once more, his palms rose in the air defensively, his chin ducking as a smirk quirked at his lips. He knew he was only seconds away from having something heavy chucked at him.

"No, my love. No living spoils, and only a token amount of physical ones. Will that suffice? It's an important custom to honor for us, even if the purpose for it no longer exists."

She exhaled, plopping down into an armchair.

"I suppose so. How long?"

"Weeks. Maybe a month. The First Campaign is not a long endeavor. Not usually. "

"You'll go with them? Look after them, keep them safe?"

He stared at her for a moment, his victorious look ebbing at her forlorn expression.

"....You're not coming," he murmured in realization.

Allura looked away, rubbing her arm uneasily.

"I'm not sure I could stomach such destruction, even in play. I don't think that I could properly... endorse this in a manner that befits your customs," she explained. "Besides. Who will run things if we're both gone? I mean there's Cossack, but I..."

"Oh gods below us, no. He is a worthy and admirable soldier, but we'd come back to a bloodbath of a civil war because he couldn't figure out how to translate a document properly."

Allura giggled, casting her husband a sad smile as she rose from her chair and approached him.

"I'll miss you. It will be a long time before you're back."

He palmed her ribcage as she came into his heartspace, her own fingertips touching his chest, her nose inches from his.

"We should make the most of tonight then," he murmured darkly.

"I would very much like that."

#lotura #lotor #allura #dotu #voltron #defender of the universe #crystal writes

20 notes · View notes

zombeebunnie · 3 months

Text

Trembling Essence:💙Choice exploration + finished scenes💙

Hello and welcome new followers, here's an update on how things are going with the game! Firstly a big thank you to the sudden influx of support I got this week, I'm happy knowing people liked the little meme video I did! :,]

This post might be a little long since I had to rewrite a few things, I was trying to upload a picture of one of the new areas you can go in but I got an error and couldn't save what I wrote. :,S

Anywho, I mainly focused on quality of life changes and continued working with the one of the endings you can get at the start of the game.

I don't really know where to start but this ending took a lot longer than expected to really hit what I've been trying to go for. At first, it was going to have two different endings. I took out one of them because I didn't have much of a connection with it and I liked the idea of it being straightforward instead. When I went back over it, everything happened too quickly for my liking. To fix this I went back and added a few choices to at least give you an idea of what the area is like and how it effects the player(Y/N) while making sure the dialog transitioned correctly with what you see on the screen. It's nothing too wordy but I do like it a lot more than I did before. Even though this is still considered one ending there is a alternate version you can get depending on a certain choice. Towards the end I fixed up all the spelling errors I could find and happily enough, there wasn't many. For right now I'd say this ending is finished! Yay! x]

Here's one of my favorite CG's I drew for it:

I love how it turned out because I really want to do different angles and perspective through the terrain, I think this one is my favorite so far! :,,]

Here's a evening time version of it:

It's suppose to be raining in this image but I still need to practice getting the angle correct. :,,]

I'm also fixing/brainstorming up the second/third ending. This one will have two different areas you can navigate through to get an idea of where you are and a few hints of lore that will be referenced later on in the game. Those that have played the [Extended Demo] you probably know which ones I'm talking about. >;]

I already like the idea of them but for one of the paths, I didn't have enough time to branch it out and make backgrounds for it in the [Extended Demo] so here's a peek of a placeholder since I'm still sketching stuff out, nothing is finalized yet. :[]

Super close to the cabin section, yay! I actually miss writing/drawing out the segments in the cabin a whole bunch so I really can't wait to fix up that part once I'm done with the swamplands. :,,]

I said last week I'd post some of the new backgrounds/areas so here you go:

Kofi update:

I also had a small talk with my play testers and one of the things they brought up is that I should be promoting my ko-fi better so from now on I'll have little mini doodles doing so at the end of every game development post as a way to promote it! :] All donations and tips help tremendously while I work on the game. If you like what I create, please consider supporting what I do here! I was able to use previous tips to get a new wrist support brace when I'm drawing so a very big thank you to everyone who gave a tip! :,,]

Q&A / Ask box is open:

If you have any questions about Trembling Essence/Noah feel free to ask here or on itch.io please. This makes it easier for me to see and answer accordingly! I would really like to hear from you guys!

I enjoyed answering the asks I got recently this week! I'm trying to finish the rest when I can including the ones I remember that got deleted. There were some I genuinely couldn't answer because it would require me to mention major spoilers/the questions have spoilers in them. :,]

This post is getting really long now so that's all I have to discuss, thank you guys very much for all of the encouraging support this past week, I appreciate it a whole bunch! :,,]

48 notes · View notes

sungbeam · 7 months

Text

𝐆𝐎𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐗! — eight

viii. is that my shirt ?!

2.1k written (omg im sorry)

in which sungchan's so-called plan includes a dash of jealousy, a pinch of friendship, and ... jisung's shirt??

park jisung x f!mc ; humor, mentions of alcohol, swearing, uhm ur wearing jisung's shirt at some point so if u think that's uncomfy...

« prev · m.list · next »

a/n: surprise 😭? ik u all probably don't even remember what's going on cuz it's almost been TWO YEARS since the last update,, im sorry btw 😭 anyways, it's only this long bc i was stupid when i outlined this and i had to write more to make my stupid idea not sound as stupid

You could already tell that Mark was given speaker privileges when you pulled up outside the house and you felt the bass pulsing through your car. Your brother Mark had a few different aux cord modes: bass boost, lo-fi hoe, Celine Dion, and just plain stripper. You didn't particularly enjoy the latter because that was your brother (gross), but all of the others were quite enjoyable.

Chaeryeong told you earlier she would be coming with her dance club friends, so you had coerced Sungchan to carpool with you. Well, you actually hadn't needed to do any persuading. He somehow just… asked you. Huh. Weird.

"I didn't even realize I stole this shirt," you told him as the two of you hiked up the front lawn of the house, narrowly dodging a couple giggly boys stumbling down the street. You wrinkled your nose at the distinct "Beatbox" logo written in charmingly messy bubble letters on the front, signifying that one charity event the boys hosted a year ago. The back had been decorated in more pen inked doodles and a scrawl you guessed was close to Mark's. Or maybe it was Jeno's… either way, Sungchan had found it tucked among the rest of your t-shirts and you threw it on with no further complaints.

Sungchan shrugged, holding the door open for you as you both entered into the throes of the party. "You didn't realize you stole my pen that one time."

"A pen is different than a whole damn shirt though."

You glanced over at him to see if you had lost him to the crowd, but you should have known better since he towered almost everyone here. He seemed to have gotten a text from someone, but he was quick to tuck his phone away and search the crowd. "Who're you looking—"

He slung an arm over your shoulders and steered you toward the living room. "No one. C'mon, Mark hyung just asked me to bring you over to the DJ booth. Something about cashing in a song suggestion."

That immediately drew your attention. "I can't believe he remembered."

(And Sungchan couldn't believe he just got away with that. He looked over his shoulder toward the hallway where he saw Jisung's face appear in the crowd, then caught his eyes. Sungchan grinned to himself. It was time to get started.)

When you and Sungchan finally reached the DJ booth, Mark greeted you by handing you his phone. Mark and Sungchan exchanged looks over your head—everything was going perfectly.

"Hey, I'm gonna get us some drinks," Sungchan told you with a reassuring pat on your shoulder. You nodded to him as you scrolled through your song choices, but Sungchan was practically gone.

Not even a few steps away, Jisung appeared before him, his dark bangs hanging in his eyes. "Oh, hey."

Sungchan chirped back at him, "'Sup, man."

Jisung narrowed his eyes just slightly, head cocking to the side. "Is Yn here?"

Sungchan almost laughed at how well this was going. "Yeah, she's back with Mark. I was actually just gonna get her a drink—"

"I can get it," he said, and his eyes widened as if even he was surprised he just said that. He cleared his throat, cupping the back of his neck. "Uh—I mean, I can get all of us drinks. I was actually gonna ask if Mark hyung wanted anything."

Suuuure, Sungchan wanted to say. But he could respect this guy's quick thinking. "Oh, cool. Thanks, dude. I think Mark hyung says he's okay, so it's just Yn."

"Cool." And then he was gone.

As Sungchan turned back to the DJ table, he realized Jisung hadn't even asked Sungchan what you wanted or liked to drink.

When he returned to the DJ table, you threw Sungchan a confused look. "I thought you were getting drinks?"

He shrugged helplessly. "Jisung said he'd get them."

"Jisung?" Now, why in the world…

As if your brain had magically manifested him, you spied Jisung carefully maneuvering through the crowd. In one veiny hand, he clutched the necks of two bottles of some mystery liquor, most likely beer, while he raised a little can of ginger ale into the air over his head as if scared the bodies around him would spill it (yes, spill a sealed can of ginger ale).

You couldn't help but eye his attire—the white tank top beneath a dark bomber jacket, paired with a pair of black jeans. There was a silver chain link choker around his neck, and Sungchan even raised his eyebrows at the way your eyes made a generous sweep of the newcomer's form.

You hated him, huh?

Jisung set the beer bottles on the cleared off space on Mark's table, his eyes meeting yours first. He passed you the ginger ale, "Hey, for you."

You accepted it with a hasty nod. He must have asked Sungchan what you wanted.

"Oh, thanks." You took the bottom hem of the Beatbox T-shirt you wore and swiftly swiped it over the rim of the can, before cracking it open with a satisfying click and hiss.

Jisung clasped the back of his neck instinctually, but when he saw the shirt you wore, he thought offhandedly that you and he could've matched. Not that he wanted to match with you. Definitely not. Why would he want that?

You were probably wearing one of your brothers', but he could've sworn the little doodle on the corner of your shoulder looked… familiar.

Wait.

Wait a goddamn second.

Jisung's eyes widened in alarm.

Sungchan held back a snicker. "Uh, you good, Jisung?"

Jisung coughed, glancing over at Mark in case he had caught him staring, too, but the older Lee brother had already turned the opposite way to speak to Vernon from the SVT fraternity. Jisung popped open his beer bottle, then passed the other to Sungchan. "Yeah, ahem, I'm great. Hey, Yn, is that Mark's shirt?"

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you ducked your head to look at the shirt. "Actually, I'm not really sure."

"Oh really? 'Cause… I… I think it's mine."

You sputtered a laugh. "Good joke."

He grimaced. "Can you… turn around?"

"Turn around? Why?"

If Sungchan's eyes weren't deceiving him, he was certain Park Jisung was blushing.

Jisung sighed, a stressed sound. He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead as he inspected the shirt you wore closer. “Because I would've written my name somewhere on the back,” he mumbled with a wince.

You could feel your face and neck warm after he stated his reason, and in an effort to get this matter solved so he could stop staring at you, you turned around. After a moment of silence, you twisted your head over your shoulder to peer back at Sungchan and Jisung. “See? Not your shirt.”

“Except, it definitely is his shirt, Yn,” Sungchan said, lifting his free hand up to cover his grin.

“What?”

Jisung had gone quiet, eyes widened like twin saucers. Not a thought passed behind those eyes as you attempted to look at your back to confirm exactly what both Sungchan and Jisung were telling you. It was impossible—how in the world could Jisung's shirt appear in your closet?

“Sungchan, is it really his shirt?” You asked your friend, pleading for him to tell you this was all a huge misunderstanding.

Sungchan had the decency to look sheepish. He reached over and gently grabbed your shoulder, pulling a part of the T-shirt edge so you could see. This brought you and him closer together as he pointed out Jisung's name to you.

The movement did not go unnoticed by Jisung, who watched this interaction with a wariness he didn't know what to make of. You were wearing his shirt, and somehow looked… good in it…? His eye twitched—why weren't you as friendly with him as you were with Sungchan? He could totally be a good friend—

Acceptance, swiftly followed by immense embarrassment, swept over you. It seemed it wasn't just Jisung who had gone quiet; neither of you could look the other in the eye.

After stepping away from you, Sungchan's eyebrows arched high as he sipped his beer and his gaze flickered between the two of you. “Well, this is awkward,” he mused unhelpfully.

That was enough to snap Jisung out of his daze. He clasped a hand on the back of his neck. “Would you be more comfortable in one of your brothers’ shirts? I can go grab one for you to change into—”

“Oh, uhm, yeah. I can just go upstairs and raid Mark's closet or something. I'm sure you'd like your shirt back.”

“No—I mean,” he sputtered, “yeah. It's no worries, really, if you don't wanna go through the trouble.”

Sungchan suppressed a screech akin to a pterodactyl. He hadn't thought you two would be this awkward around each other. It all played out a lot differently in his head, but… wait. Where the fuck did you go?

He realized quickly that you and Jisung were no longer right in front of him. Sungchan's head swiveled around nearby to search the crowd for you and Jisung, but it seemed that both of you were nowhere in the vicinity. Maybe you were headed up to swap shirts after all; that made his life easier.

As soon as you'd changed out of Jisung's Beatbox T-shirt and into one of Mark's Justin Bieber tour T-shirts, you prepared to step back out into the party. When you opened the door to Mark's bedroom, you found Jisung right where you'd left him, stationed outside while nursing his beer and holding your can of ginger ale.

“Here's your shirt,” you said to him, drawing his attention to you.

“Ah, thanks.” He traded you his T-shirt for your drink, but still, neither of you could hold eye contact.

For a moment, you racked your brain for something to say to loosen all this tension. “Uhm, you did great at the showcase, by the way. Your performance, I mean.”

Jisung's head perked up. “Oh, you stayed for it?” There was an intonation in his voice just now—you’d actually stayed and you also complimented him? He didn't understand why his heart was rattling around in his ribcage like a stampede of galloping horses, but he guessed it had something to do with the fact that he was pleasantly surprised. Something like pride filled his chest.

You gave a small nod, and if he wasn't mistaken, it almost looked shy. “I did end up staying. The thing I thought I had planned…” you trailed off and you filled the silence with a nonchalant shrug.

“Well, thanks for watching and I'm glad you thought I did well,” he said with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Was he finally getting through to you? Were you warming up to him at last?

He couldn't help but search your face then in the dim hallway light. Were your eyes always so pretty? There was a small smudge of silver glitter on the side of your cheek that glistened like diamonds, and he recognized it from somewhere on his shirt. It must have gotten into your face while you were changing.

He raised a hand, then froze. “Uh, you've got a little—a little something—” He pointed to his own cheek to tell you where it was.

“Oh!” You used the back of your hand to rub at it, but because glitter never listened the first time, it stayed put. “Is it gone?”

He winced. “No, it's, uhm—right… right there…”

You tried again, and he awkwardly tried to point it out without actually touching your face.

On your fourth attempt, he huffed. “Here,” he muttered, lifting his hand and gently brushing the glitter off.

When he was done, his hand fell back to his side like a dead weight as reality came crashing back. He coughed. “It's gone now.”

You averted your eyes. “Oh, cool, thanks.”

“Anyways, I should probably go put this away,” he said, gesturing down the hall toward his room with the shirt in his hand.

You gave an eager nod. “Right, yeah. I'll just—I’ll see you back down at the party then?”

Jisung bobbed his head in agreement. “Yeah, for sure! See you down there.”

Like two rats, the pair of you scurried away from each other in opposite directions. Even as you were descending the stairs, you threw a look back at Jisung, who was opening his bedroom door at the end of the hallway. Unbeknownst to you, Jisung had tossed you a glance just milliseconds before.

You swore you could still feel the brush of his fingers against your cheek, but it wasn't like it meant anything, right?

« prev · m.list · next »

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @meosjinn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @littlestarjasmine @bless-311 @justanotherkpopstanlol @w3bqrl @kangfication @dior-15 @pxppxrminty @thesunsfullmoon @haechansbbg @moonyswolf

gc taglist: @kae-t-eee @kookiedesi @yeppeudau @spiderrenjunfics @dreamenvi @neo-teenkidz @l33j3n8 @justalildumpling @ahnneyong @jeongintwt @asteriaskingdom

#nct x reader #nct social media au #park jisung x reader #nct smau #nct dream x reader #nct social au #park jisung social media au #nct dream social media au #jisung x reader #jisung social media au

44 notes · View notes