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hangovercurse · 3 years

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The Things We Can’t Tell Pete About

Pete invites you to meet his friends from The Dirt and makes you promise not to flirt with any of them, which is a lot easier said than done, especially when Colson Baker acts like that.

Request: “Hey so I love all your writing and I just thought you should know that! But also I’d your requests are on still would you mind writing a youre Pete’s little sister but kells got a crush xx”

Colson x reader

Warnings: Drug use, Cursing

A/N: I know, Dom (Yungblud) wrote the song, but also I am the writer and I say that Y/N wrote it :) Anyways, enjoy. This is only part 1 of what is probably going to be a fun, cute lil series. Also thank you to the anon who sent this! You made my day(s)

Word Count: 2411

| ii | iii | iv | v |

masterlist

New York was lonely without your brother. He had been filming in New Orleans for the past three months, leaving you alone. You had some friends, but Pete was your best friend. You were only eight months younger than him and practically attached at the hip. You supposed going through trauma together would do that to people.

He facetimed you all the time from set, updating you on things in his life, showing you cool stuff from the set, and introducing you to his castmates. You had kept him updated on your music, playing him demos of songs you were writing and getting his opinion on them.

Him being away wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but it definitely sucked for you. So, when Pete texted you that he was having a few friends from the movie over the night he got back, you were ecstatic.

Before you left your apartment to walk to his, he texted you.

You’re not allowed to flirt with any of my friends

You rolled your eyes as you locked your door, preparing a response.

I’ll try my best

Your phone buzzed seconds later.

I’m serious. I don’t trust any of them with you.

And I don’t need that kind of awkwardness in my life

Like if you date one of my friends and it goes badly

I don’t wanna deal with that shit

You chuckled at his chain of texts.

Don’t flirt with your friends because they’re dicks, got it

Don’t worry bro, I know the sibling code

You came to find out that that was a lot easier said than done. When you walked into his place, everyone in the room turned to look at you. You recognized most of them from your facetimes with Pete, but you doubted they remembered who you were. One who did remember you was Colson, Pete’s new best friend. He made eye contact with you from across the room, a sly grin on his lips. You sent him a small smile, Pete’s text running through your head briefly.

You found your brother lounging on the couch, a huge grin on his face. He was definitely tripping on mushrooms. “Y/N!” He yelled. “This is my baby sister, everyone.”

You rolled your eyes, walking further into the room, grabbing a drink from the cooler, and taking an empty seat on the opposite couch. “I’m less than a year younger than you, Pete.”

You heard a snicker from the one of the guys, looking over to see Colson covering up the smile on his face. “But you’re still younger than me so it counts.”

Everyone went back to their own conversations, which you were thankful for. “Y/N, you remember Colson, right?” Pete motioned to the blond guy.

“Yeah.” You nodded, looking him up and down. His muscle tank exposed the sleeves of tattoos, which seemed to cover every inch of his skin. “Your hair was different, but yeah I remember you.” You opened the beer on the coffee table, taking a swig.

“You’re the musician, right?” He asked you, leaning back onto the couch.

You nodded, “Aspiring musician but, yeah.”

“Oh, she’s great. You should hear her sometime.” Pete butted in, grinning like an idiot at you.

You rolled your eyes but had a smile on your face. “I work primarily as a songwriter and editor right now, but I’m trying to work on putting out some of my own stuff.”

You felt a little intimidated talking to Machine Gun Kelly about music, seeing as he was one of the best in the industry, but he seemed to be genuinely interested in your work. “Well, if you ever want some help or someone to listen to it, I’d be willing.” He flashed a smile, his bright blue eyes sparkling.

“Thanks, that’s really cool of you.” You bit your lip slightly, trying to hide the fact that you were totally breaking Pete’s rule.

Pete sent a glare your way to which you raised your eyebrow. You weren’t really flirting; you were just… making connections. “Anyways,” he cleared his throat, “I’ve been working on this sketch idea, Y/N, and I need your opinion.”

You nodded, letting him talk. “So, I was thinking like, there’s this guy with posters all over his wall. Like life size posters of a bunch of different people. And he falls asleep while doing homework and he dreams about them coming to life. And it plays out like one of those really bad commercials that encourage kids to stay in school and shit. Like the posters are telling him to study for his test, but then there’s this one poster that’s like, very sexy. And she’s just like, talking about hot dogs and everyone else gets really sick of it and one of the other posters tries to like, tear down her poster or something.”

Throughout his description, you got more and more confused. “Pete, that’s not funny that’s just fuckin weird.” His mouth hung open in shock. “Dude, seriously? The big punchline is the playboy poster girl talking about hot dogs until the other poster people get tired of it?”

“Yes.” Pete said, as if it were obvious. “That’s hilarious.” You glanced at Colson with a questioning look on your face. He seemed as unsure of the joke as you were.

“Pete, man, that’s not your best work.” Colson clapped him on the shoulder and you giggled at Pete’s disappointed expression.

“You guys are mean.” He pouted and you two laughed. “Ok, well, how would you make it funny?”

“I don’t know if you can, bro.” Colson’s laugh was contagious. When he laughed his whole body shook, his feet stomping and everything.

“What are the other posters?” You asked, trying to be supportive but knowing this wouldn’t turn out very good.

“Well, I was thinking maybe one is like a video game character. Like that lady from Wreck-It-Ralph. The mean one. And then like a snowboarder who is definitely high, and someone else, I dunno.” He shrugged, taking a hit from the joint in his hand and passing it to you.

“Okay…” You trailed off, looking at Colson for support. You brought the blunt to your lips, inhaling the smoke and bringing it down, letting the smoke leave your mouth slowly. You passed the joint to Colson, who gladly took it, a smirk on his face.

Pete looked between you two at the small interaction, a frown. “So, the posters,” he brought your attention away from the man again, “they’re all really serious about teaching this dude math. But the hotdog girl just keeps talking about hot dogs in like this really high-pitched voice.”

You watched the smoke fall from Colson’s lips, not fully paying attention to your brother.

“Yeah man, I think that sounds funny.” Colson told Pete, his eyes lingering on you for a little longer than they should have. “It could use some work but if anyone can make it funny, it’s you.” Colson punched your brother on the shoulder, but the look he sent you said the exact opposite.

You held in your giggle, taking another sip of your beer.

The rest of the night followed a similar pattern, you and Colson flirting and Pete trying to get in between you two. At one point, after a few more hits of weed and a couple more drinks, Colson brought out a guitar, insisting you play something for him. Where he got the guitar from, you had no idea, but you didn’t ask questions. Instead, you rolled your eyes, insisting that “if I have to play something, so do you.”

Everyone was too caught up in their own conversations to care about the noise, or too drunk. You started strumming, trying to remember the chords to a song you had started writing a few days ago. “There’s no lyrics yet, just a melody I came up with.” You blushed, feeling very self-conscious suddenly.

“Guess I’ll just free style to it then.” He chuckled as you started to strum, your fingers working the strings like they had your whole life.

The blond man closed his eyes, head nodding as you played and thinking of what to rap.

“Watch me, take a good thing and fuck it all up in one night. Catch me, I’m the one on the run away from the headlights.

No sleep, up all week wastin time with people I don’t like. I think, somethin’s fuckin wrong with me.

You smiled as he sang, watching his expressions change as he tried to think up the next line.

Drown myself in alcohol, that shit never helps at all

I might say some stupid things tonight when you pick up this call

I be hearin silence on the other side for way to long, I can taste it on my tongue, I can tell that somethin’s wrong.”

He opened his eyes, looking rather proud of himself. “I had some of those lyrics already, but I just changed ‘em a little. I really liked that.”

You nodded, “That was impressive.” You smiled, looking back down to the guitar when something hit you.

You began to play the same melody but pitched higher to fit your voice.

“Roll me up, and smoke me love

And we could fly into the night

You take drugs, to let go, and figure it all out on your own

Take drugs, on gravestones, to figure it all out on your own.”

You looked up to Colson, watching his expression change, his eyes wide. Pete had a proud look on his face.

“Pete, you are a sucky hype man. You did her no justice.” Colson hit Pete on the arm.

“Whaddya mean, I told you she was great.”

Colson looked over to you, a stupid smile on his face. “Seriously, that was fucking amazing. Like, we gotta write that shit out some day.”

You bit your lip, trying to stop the blush from reaching your cheeks. “Yeah, that’d be cool.” You were trying your best to keep your cool as Colson kept his gaze on you, but you were completely freaking out on the inside.

A little while later, almost everyone was gone except you, Pete, Colson, and Douglas Booth, who joined your conversation not long after your jam session. Pete let out a yawn, directing your attention to the time.

“Jesus, it’s already 4am?” You asked, a frown on your face.

“Why, you got somewhere to be, darling?” Douglas asked you, your face scrunching up from the nickname.

“I have a writing session at 11 am tomorrow. Or, today, I guess.”

Pete reached out to hit you in the head, playfully, which you dodged. “Go to bed, dummy.”

You shrugged, “I’m gonna be dead at it anyways, might as well keep the party going a little longer.”

Douglas rolled his eyes, patting your shoulder. “Be that as it may, I am ending this party and going home. Goodnight, guys. It was nice meeting you again, Y/N. Good to see you guys.” Douglas and the guys did that little hand slap and hug thing before he left.

“I love you both, but I will also be going to sleep. And you should too.” Pete stood up, stretching his arms out before giving Colson a fist bump and leaving to his bedroom.

Once your older brother left, Colson moved to the couch you were on, his arm falling over your shoulders. You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. “And how can I help you Mr. Kelly?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m assuming Pete gave us both very similar talking to’s, given the glares you’ve been receiving all night.”

“You mean the “don’t flirt with my friends” talking to or the other one?” You tilted your head, a sly look on your face.

“That’s the one.” Colson laughed through his nose, an adorable smile on his face. You were both considerably high, but you still knew exactly what you were doing.

You moved closer to Colson’s body, “Well then I guess we’d better not do this.” You said quietly, leaning into him. “Or this,” You grabbed his jaw, inches from his face.

“Or this?” He whispered, connecting your lips. You smiled into the kiss, tasting the weed on his tongue. You adjusted your body so you were facing him, his arm that was once around your shoulder now wrapped around your waist.

His other hand grabbed your leg, pulling you up so you were straddling his lap, and your arms wrapped around his neck. His lips seemed to fit perfectly around yours, and you did all you could to keep yourself from moaning into the kiss as his hand began to travel up your leg.

Realization hit you like a brick wall, and you pulled away, your breathing heavy. “Sorry,” you muttered after a few seconds. You climbed off his lap, smoothing out your shirt. “We shouldn’t do that. I shouldn’t have done that.” You smiled awkwardly down at him.

He nodded, the same realization hitting him. “Yeah, that’s not the best idea. Sorry I wasn’t really thinking.”

You shook your head, cheeks still very red. “No, no, no don’t apologize. It was fine, it’s all fine.”

He nodded, looking down awkwardly. “I should get going.” He stood up, landing a little too close to you.

“Why don’t you just sleep here? Pete won’t mind and it’s a lot easier than going home.” You bit your lip awkwardly, taking a few steps back.

Colson scratched the back of his neck. This was a very different demeanor than he had before, and you found it very cute. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “I’ll get you some blankets and pillows.” You moved towards the guest bedroom, a guilty smile on your face. You moved your hand to your lips, feeling where Colson’s lips had graced you minutes before.

You came back to find Colson laying on the couch, one hand behind his head. “We don’t have to tell Pete about that, right?”

You shook your head, a small smile still playing on your lips. You put the pillow behind his head, watching his eyes as he watched your lips. “Stop looking at me like that or I’ll do something else we can’t tell Pete about.” You said quietly, watching him grin. You pulled the blanket over him, leaning down to be level with his face.

“I kind of like the things we can’t tell Pete about.” Colson chuckled, leaning forward to connect your lips again.

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson baker angst #pete davidson

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batgurl1989 · 3 years

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Sun-Kissed Garden

Summary: you have writer's block and Henry helps you with it

Word Count: 1393

Warnings: none. Just fluffy goodness

A/N: sorry I was gone for so long! But I am back now and writing Henry shorts. Taglist is open

Taglist: @rmtndew @henrynerdfan @cynic-spirit @princesssterek @daddys-littlewhitegirl @diegos-butt @lharrietg @kebabgirl67

The sun was shining, but not in that hot way that was normal for Summer. Though there was a touch of humidity in the air, it was uncharacteristically bearable for early August. I watched the bumble bees lazily float from one flower to the next, collecting and spreading pollen. The quilt I sat on was well-loved. My grandmother had made it for me when I graduated high school, and it had gone everywhere with me ever since. I closed my eyes as I listened to the birds singing, letting secrets I knew I would never understand wash over me.

My laptop lay discarded beside me, the screen having fallen asleep a while ago. I knew I should be writing, but couldn't bring myself to imagine a cold island in the North Atlantic while sitting in my sun warmed garden. I made it official that I was finally giving up on the idea of writing when I closed the lid. It was a freeing feeling, and I turned back to watching the bees.

I internally startled when I felt someone sit down behind me. I watched as powerful legs appeared on either side of me, recognizing those calves and knees, allowing myself to relax. Large hands slid around my stomach. I used to be uncomfortable when he touched me there, the extra softness on my stomach seemed to refuse to harden into muscle, but the more he did, the more comfortable I had become. He knew I was self-conscious about it, so I think that's why he did it.

"Did you get any writing done?" His accented voice was low, and I reveled in it as it poured over me. My body always seemed to light up when he spoke, especially when he spoke to just me. His breath fanned my ear as he body closed the last couple of inches separating us. I felt his lips ghost over the spot below my ear, and goosebumps raced across my skin and down my neck and arm.

"Truth or sugar coated?" I asked, tilting to one side to get a look at Henry over my shoulder. His hair was a little longer since he was growing it out for a role, a curl coming down on his forehead. I adored his curls, and loved when he took roles that required him to grow his hair out.

"Always truth." Henry's voice was laced with a light chuckle even though I knew he was serious about wanting the truth. I could understand his need for honesty in his home-life when his work-life could be anything but.

"I didn't. I know I promised a chapter a day this week, and I was bragging that I had all these ideas." I snuggled into Henry's hold, his warmth enveloping me in an extra hug. I knew he wouldn't judge me, but I still felt guilty for not getting anything written. "But when I got out here… I just didn't feel it anymore."

"Sweetheart." Henry sighed, his arms flexing to hold me tighter. I took what strength I could from his offer, knowing I would need it. His voice spoke of a lecture coming on, and I braced myself for it. He sighed again, the gust of breath tickling my skin a second before he pressed his lips to my neck again. "I know you want to be published by the end of August, but I fear you are going to burn yourself out."

"But if I don't set a deadline for myself, I don't think I will ever finish." My voice was small, and I hated it. I distracted myself by watching a hummingbird moth flit from flower to flower. They were rare to see in my garden, but lately, this little guy had made himself busy with my butterfly bushes. "Plus I may be stuck."

Henry was quiet behind me, and I knew he was mulling over an idea in his head. I stroked my fingers up and down his forearms, marvelling at how tanned he was compared to me. He rested his forehead against the back of my head, nuzzling his nose against the nape of my neck. I had recently cut my hair into a short pixie cut, and Henry was enjoying the extra skin it had exposed. I was too.

"The way I see it… you have two options." Henry shifted so that he could rest his chin on my shoulder. I leaned my head against his waiting and eager to hear what he thought my options were. "You can force yourself to write, to try and push through your writer's block. You might not like the results, but you can always change what you wrote later."

"What's the other option?" I made myself with his arms again, running my fingers over his contouring muscles. I wasn't sure I liked my first option, but I also wasn't sure I wanted to hear what else he had to say.

"You could give yourself some time off." Henry's chuckle washed over me like a balm. I knew he wasn't laughing meanly at me. But I also knew he could read me as well as a book and knew I was apprehensive about hearing what he was going to say. His voice dropped lower after he pressed a kiss to my shoulder. "If I know you, you will have an idea the second you relax and stop trying to force it."

"You are probably right." I sighed. As much as I hated when ideas came to me in the shower or when I was driving, those were the times I was likely to be focussing on my writing.

"So what do you say to me throwing us some food together and we enjoy our little slice of heaven?" Henry made to get up, but I clamped my hands down on his arms, not letting him. I wasn't ready to give up on the slice I had right now.

"If you aren't starving, I would like to just stay like this for a while longer." I admitted. He didn't hesitate to get comfortable again, pulling me into his body again.

"Of course, sweetheart." I could hear the smile in Henry's voice, and my guilt for keeping him out here with me evaporated.

I tilted my head, trying to get a look at him. I poured internally when I couldn't, so I moved until I was straddling his lap and facing him. I sighed contentedly as his hands splayed across my lower back, holding me close again. I played with the curl on his forehead while smiling down at him. I loved carefree Henry, when he was done filming for the day and could simply let go of the character he was protesting even if it only lasted a few hours. We both knew these moments were precious, and we liked to savour them.

His eyes flicked to my lips a moment before he leaned in to gently place a kiss on them. I rested my hands lightly on his shoulders as he sighed and slowly deepened the kiss. It was relaxed and exactly what I needed. Nothing urgent to match the chaos in my mind. His kisses were what grounded me, brought me back to myself. His touch sent electricity through me that calmed the currents my anxiety and stress caused.

I was just delving my fingers into his luscious curls when an idea hit me. I sat up with an apologetic smile on my face as I reached for my laptop. I vaguely heard Henry laugh as I scrambled from his lap, but I didn't pay attention to it. I wanted to get the idea written before I lost it again.

"I will go make us food." Henry kissed the top of my head before he got up. I flashed him another smile, but didn't look away from my screen as I furiously typed.

"I love you." I called out belatedly, not even sure if he was still in the garden. It didn't surprise me that the thing that relaxed me the most was time with Henry. And I felt a little bad that that was when my ideas decided to spring up again, but I knew Henry understood. I couldn't be sure that that hadn't been his plan all along. Just yet another reason I loved that man.

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader

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imthepunchlord · 3 years

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Adrien’s Best to Least

Marinette, Alya, Nino, Kagami

Alright, officially four seasons in, we got more on Adrien which wound up to be... something. Let’s get this character study going covering his best to least fit. I apologize if this comes out on the side of salty, trying to be as neutral as possible, but be ready for his issues to be addressed.

Adrien is a complicated character in his set up, but Adrien himself is not a complex individual. He is, quite literally, one of the more straight forward characters in this show, and is quite stagnant and unchanging. And that is more the fault of the writers who don’t want to change him at all and deem him to be “perfect” while ignoring any flaws. Looking at him as a character without the narrative to act in his favor, there’s actually quite a struggle for him miraculous wise, but two seem to suit him best.

His best are Turtle and Peafowl. Turtle meets the core who he is, working off his strengths, where he likes to be in the field, and his instincts. And this miraculous actually offers him the growth he really needs, while keeping true to who he is. Peafowl it turn can best adjust to his style and needs, his want to be flashy and dynamic.

Adrien at the core is a protector, supporter, and follower. Being an incredibly reckless and active character, he thrives to be in the front lines, and has largely always prioritized his partner’s safety over his own, which has become problematic behavior at this point. But that’s what you want for a Turtle, someone who’s ready to be on the front lines and is being conscious of their allies. And out of the 5, this suits him best in who he is and how he works.

The growth potential comes from the limits of his protection as Shelter can only be used once, and he has to be conscious about timing and how to use it. And typically, Adrien does have good responsive instincts for when he needs to be a protector. While this won’t stop him from diving in, it can afford him more means to do so while also keeping himself safe and in the fight, and it can shape him up to be smarter in how he protects others. This miraculous also counts for self-protection and ideally can get it into his head that his safety matters to.

Overall, I do see Adrien and Wayzz getting along as Wayzz is friendly, engaging, and will adapt and adopt quirks of his humans so he can quickly bond with them. This sets up for him to click with his kwami a lot sooner, and with Wayzz being a more serious and responsible kwami than Plagg, this can set up Adrien to respect and listen to Wayzz. So when Wayzz calls him out on anything, Adrien is more likely to listen to him and consider his words. Wayzz is a kwami who doesn’t approve of reckless behavior, and that will address one of Adrien’s biggest issues.

With Peafowl, in comparison to Fox, would be a lot forgiving of Adrien’s quick, responsive, and straightforward thinking. When Adrien makes his golems, they are made with a clear purpose that they will see to. And they will function as he expects them to. This will match his want to play by his own rules, as whatever he wants can come into existence, and for sure, he’d be quite the attention grabber. This miraculous is quite flexible in battle, able to be settled on the sidelines or join the golem in combat.

Growth wise, this miraculous can inspire a spark of creativity, as while he makes golems to serve out a purpose, thought is required for them. He will also need to learn to be conscious of his resources as each golem is born from a section of his fan, and if he makes too many, he can end up weaponless.

For him and Duusu, I see them being a very energetic pair, probably borderline chaotic. Duusu would actually probably add onto his flamboyance and encourage him to really let loose and “show his true colors”. She’d also be a source of affection and support, something that he really wants. She could also have Adrien step up in maturity as she can be a goofball.

Adrien’s 2nd best is Bee. Bee can work off his energy and allow him to remain a mid-to-close-range fighter, though there are concerns to him using it which keeps this from being apart of his best, though he has enough potential and promise to use it well that keeps this from joining the worst.

Bee will have a lot of the same appeals as Cat that makes this manageable for Adrien. It is direct, involved, allows him to be a teamplayer, and has an aggressive power. But while it has the same appeals to Cat, it has the same issues as Adrien can be reckless with his power and has activated Cataclysm at the wrong time a few times which has led to issues (Aeon’s death being the most iconic example). Chances are even higher that he’d have similar issues with Venom, and be more reckless with Venom as unlike Cataclysm, this is just a temporary paralysis, not pure destruction. Cataclysm requires some level of control and consideration in use. Venom is not the same in its use, so Adrien can end up more reckless with it as there aren’t so severe consequences with it, in theory. And with his tendency to charge and Venom requires some stealth and calculation in use, chances are good that many are going to see his sting coming and prepare for it.

Growth wise, Bee can help Adrien grow as a team player, as teamwork is a big part of bee society, and while largely good, Adrien does have moments where he has struggled (like pranking his partner during a Lucky Charm use in the beginning of Refleckta, or Glaciator, rejecting to work with his partner due to her not showing up for the maybe date she said she was uncertain of making it to). And by chance he is reckless with Venom, ideally it would eventually click that he needs to be smarter in how he handles it.

Adrien and Pollen as a pair could end up very problematic or very interesting. The Bee miraculous seems more designed to be used by girls and so far, we’ve only seen Pollen work off girls, we have yet to see how Pollen would engage with a boy as her user. She could be quite critical. But playing off the assumption that Pollen will engage with Adrien the same as we’ve seen in canon with Chloe, this would not be a good match as Pollen would essentially enable Adrien, and I don’t see him prompting the same sort of growth to her as other characters could.

Adrien’s least fit are Butterfly and Fox. These two make up his greatest weaknesses: empathy and the capacity to plan before acting.

Adrien can match Butterfly as he can be very supportive and encouraging (Origins and Mayura), but the issue stems that these instances are limited both in number and in depth. Adrien can be very emotionally deaf to the needs of others, often putting his own needs over them, and has made use of guilt to manipulate people (largely Marinette, seen in Syren and Malediktator). Another big issue with Adrien and Butterfly is that Adrien himself doesn’t make connections, he doesn’t include himself in anything. To use this miraculous well, one has to be or become, quite literally, a social butterfly. This miraculous at the core is about emotion and connection, to be aware of the feelings of others, to make connections, to assist and help raise others up. It requires teamwork and being on the same page. To have the user become a leader or teammate. This is not something Adrien is known for. He in general isn’t good at getting a grasp on emotional issues, as seen in Maledicktator, not getting the happiness everyone was feeling and lectured Marientte about it. Possibilities are good that with his tendency to lecture, who can upset the wrong target and end up championless. And with how passive he can be, can it be certain that he can rein in a champion if they go out of control?

Growth wise, this does offer the most, but at the price that this is one of two that he’d really struggle with at the start. This miraculous can help him learn to branch out, make connections with others, and open his world more to making friends. But until he gets to that point, he’s going to be limited in diversity in champions and is more likely to stick to who he knows, and unfortunately, that’s not a lot. Chances are good that Chloe and Nino could be the only champions to be seen for a while and Chloe would not be inclined to share.

With Nooroo, on the surface they can be a sweet pair, but being a very gentle and soft spoken kwami, I don’t see Nooroo as a kwami that Adrien will listen to if Nooroo spoke out or voiced his concerns. Nooroo can help Adrien understand and deal with emotional situations he may not have a grasp on, but that’s not a certainty until Adrien actually listens.

Adrien can match Fox as a risk taker, someone who likes to be flashy, is playful, and wants to put on a show. But that there is where it ends. Adrien at the core is a very reactive character who likes to be in the thick of things and that’s not where Fox is supposed to be. Fox requires creativity, observation skills, and means of manipulating your audience without ever confronting them. Adrien is more offensive-oriented than a good Fox should be. He shares a similar issue with Alya that he would go with the first thing that comes to mind, whether its good or not, or even if he has all the details down needed for a good illusion. Chances are also good that (like Alya), he also waits to hear what illusion his partner may tell him to do than think of one himself. He tends to go with his gut and responds to the first thing he sees. And out of the 5, this is the one most designed to be background oriented, so him joining any fights makes things risky for him as he’s quite limited in fights. And having a Fox seen, enemies get a sense that there’s going to be an illusion soon.

This would be the 2nd to address issues of his recklessness, but would be far more punishing. If he’s determined to become a good Fox, this is going to force him to step back, observe, and think. But being so action oriented and responsive, and having this instinctive need to act rather than plan (as we really see him struggle and get frustrated in Refleckdoll), its going to take a while before he gets that patience.

Trixx and Adrien would be a pair that I see to be quite one sided. Passive as he can be, I see Trixx quite easily manipulating Adrien. And depending on one’s stance, this could be good or bad. Trixx is sharp enough to see what his humans desire, and knows what to say to change how think or change their actions. Trixx maybe the best kwami to pair with Adrien as he will assist Adrien in getting what he wants and needs, but is capable of getting Adrien to reconsider his stance or actions, which can improve Adrien’s character and his relation with others.

Between Ladybug and Cat... honestly Adrien isn’t the best fit for either of them. But if he HAS to have one... it would technically be Cat as the power is more suited to who he is. It’s up his alley, though certain aspects don’t make it ideal.

it is the same issue and risk as Bee, Adrien is very reckless and reactive. Canonly he has summoned Cataclysm too soon. And then there’s the issue of kwami. Plagg is not a good kwami match up with Adrien. Plagg isn’t a very involved kwami and he relies on his humans to self-sufficient and figure out issues themselves, largely expects a small mention will be enough. Not so with Adrien who needs a more direct personality to listen to, and by the time Plagg realizes he needs to be more direct, Adrien largely dismisses him as Plagg has set himself up as unreliable at the start.

Between the two, Tikki would be the better kwami for Adrien. She is very involved and engaging, and makes it clear when she has an issue, to a point she’d be hard for Adrien to dismiss. Though chances are slim that he would as she’d be engaging at the start unlike Plagg. Adrien can even get Tikki herself to grow as he needs clearer answers than just a simple call out, forcing her to offer up solutions and alternatives for his own actions. Tikki also would get Adrien to start involving himself in others, if not outright stepping up as a leader, be more conscious of others and help them with their issues. She would’ve been good to help Adrien branch out. Unfortunately, the Ladybug miraculous is confirmed to not be a good fit and there would be a lot of struggles for Adrien at the start.

#miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #kwami swap #character study

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shadowdianne · 3 years

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Fic writer review [Or a fic writer tag game if you prefer]

I was tagged by @naralanis and I can already see her grin all the way from where I am xd Thank you, dear, for the tag, let’s see what are my answers, shall we.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

*bursts out laughing* Adding both pseuds I have… 535 according to the account info but by counting them all I’m reaching 541 so I’m guessing it’s counting some drafts I need to re-find.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

I seriously hated you for this one xd I was going to do it by hand by I decided one-third there that I value my mental stability a little bit more xd according to the stats page back at a03 that number would be 1257884. It may be wrong. I think there should be a few more numbers up there but the majority of my works are one-shots so *shrugs* There’s also the fact that counting my ao3 things only is shaving off like half of it Xd Anyway, can we laugh at the fact that I’m a pain in the ass and that I’ve written a lot? More than I should have, that’s for sure

3. How many fandoms have you written for?

Trick question because I haven’t crossposted everything I wrote back in ffnet and I actually erased some fics from my account back there so the numbers are a little blurry there.

When I had the entirety of my work posted both in ffnet and a03 I had written for: Twilight (Bella/Alice) Glee (Faberry and there were a couple Pezberry and I don’t fucking remember the pairing name for Santana and Quinn), Harry Potter (Hermione/Ginny, Hermione/Narcissa, Hermione/Bellatrix) OUAT (SwanQueen and several oneshots focusing on the mad hatter and the blue fairy solely back at ffnet that were written in Spanish and never translated), I actually had a veeeery old au prompt of Frozen (Elsanna in where I wrote them as non sibilings), Rizzoli and Isles (Rizzles), Dishonored 2 (Emily Kaldwin/Alexi Mayhew), Lara Croft and Wonder Woman, Supergirl (SuperCorp/Supercat) I had a 100 one -or maybe two??- (Clexa), The Shannara Chronicles (Amberle/Eretreia [Or Princess Rover], Rwby [Blake Belladona/Yang], The Worst Witch (Hecate Hardbroom and Pippa Pentangle), The Half of it, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (Madam Satan/Zelda Spellman) and… I think that’s it(?) I may be forgetting some but probably nothing important if I’m not remembering it lol.

4. Top 5 fics by kudos?

Ah, we are going to go there, uh? Xd My works are not the kudos and comment getting type Xd So I was quite surprised when I went to check this.

1: Cracked it I wrote this one back in 2017, it was a prompt done by an anon: Lena is nerding with one of her projects at home, mumbling mostly to herself because she’s stuck and Kara casually mentions how to solve the problem like it’s nothing. I really had some fun with this. It was back when some us, SQeeners were fully doing the jump between OUAT and SuperGirl (I mean, there had already been some crossover as for fandom is related but this when the girls were actually getting their conjoined voice within the fandom)

2: Dateless I honestly needed to check what this one was about but I think I can see why this one shot has the amount of kudos it has. It’s a short and sweet idea and responds to the Teachers Au that went SO well with SQ. Everyone thinks they hate each other and try to set them up with other people whilst they, in truth, are dating. I don’t remember if I wrote them as married rather than dating but despite being from 2017 as well is one cheeky enough to be cool Xd I probably would edit some lines now *shudders*

3: After you I truly didn’t expect this one to be top 3. Makes me think of a lot of things, if I’m being honest Xd. After you was a one shot written almost feverishly as an answer to the fabulous drawings that Sejic did of both Lara Croft and Wonder Woman back at 2018 or something. It’s just Lara and Diana being himbos but not at all with each other.

4: How about… How about is one I remember perfectly, it was my answer to the ending of the Half of it film. I had SOME thoughts about it, let’s just stop there Xd I really liked the film itself but I think and I thought at the time that my response to wishing for a final scene at the very end of the credits responds to me being in a different personal moment than the characters. I really wanted to explore my feelings about it and so I wrote about them finding each other again after some time passes. It was also something I wrote after quite the hiatus so I took it as something I could write about without focusing too much on the why.

5: Come to me

Ahh, SuperCorp Xd I remember this one actually. A friend of mine and I were talking about descriptions, and she mentioned quite off-handedly how she wanted a fic in where Kara’s back was described. I complied… more or less.

Fun tidbit, despite the big volume of my work is obviously set in ouat there’s only 1 SQ fic there as you can see, the others are either SuperCorp or the random one shots I created for Wonderwoman/Lara Croft and The half of it. *sighs in deep thought* I’m also not going to look too much into how almost all of the fics were posted and written back in 2017. Nope, not at all.

*Small voice screaming you peaked in 2017 and everything else is garbage jumps back and forth*

5. Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I tend to always respond, yup. I truly value comments. I might have gone for spells of time in where I didn’t have the mental capacity to check in old fics because I truly didn’t know what to answer but I treasure every single comment and you all who comment know that I can start to ramble in the answers xd -sorry about that- I really really REALLY love interaction.

6. A fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending:

Ok, Nara, come on, this one is a catch for me. I’ve written angst in far too many fics to remember the angstiest one :P I have the most recent one, though, that is the easy one to think about: Goodbye.Written for @delirious-comfort. I’m just going to say “Kisses with their last dying breath” as an idea of what awaits inside but I’ve written about death and loss and angst quite a lot. There were some I wrote back to SQ with Regina needing to kill Emma during the Dark Swan arc that, to this day, I still love and some others in where Regina is the one that dies, again and again, trapped by magic while Emma watches. I have the loss in mental destruction form and… I REALLY like my angst y’know xd

7. Do you write crossovers?

Not counting Lara and Wonder Woman not really! I think it comes from the fact that I loooove worldbuilding as a whole and some pairings would require all my focus into making the world perfect which in turn would make me self conscious on the OOCness of it all.

8. Ever received hate on a fic?

*snorts* I’ve received hate due to the pairing I’ve written about, how I’ve written about it, the amount I’ve written, how slow or quick I can be, the usage of some tropes, the lack of usage of those same tropes… Let’s just go with: yuuuup.

9. Do you write smut?

I’ve written smut, yeah! But I can already see the pointed looks of some so let’s elaborate Xd I write smut when asked and sometimes when not asked but there’s a part of me I like to call a terrible tease that prefers writing the beginning of a scene, taunt it, focus on what happens before the sex scene per se as I find it more enjoyable to write. The process of escalation is always the best for me to see what can I do it by using both dialogue and descriptors tbh, so I tend to tease more than show.

9. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

A few weeks ago I’d have said: Maybe(?) But trying to follow the trail of some other fics that had been stolen from some friends -I think it was me trying to find more about the page that stole something from your Nara!- I found some pages in where my fics had been reposted. In some it was stated that the person posting the fic wasn’t the author but I had never been contacted in order to see if I’d say yes to such a thing and in some others the page was locked up but I could still see someone was pretending to be the author. I did the thing and got some of those down.

Pointed note: Ask me if you want to post or translate or anything. I will look into you and answer you if you seem honest about the thing. But despite every joke and self-deprecating comment those 500 and then some fics represent MY time so very kindly I say fuck off to those who wish to steal from me and if I catch you… you don’t really want to see me angry, trust me.

10. Ever had a fic translated?

I’ve given permission to some, yeah, but never heard it back from them so I’m guessing it didn’t stick.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic?

I’ve written series alongside other authors as @stregaomega for example. And some others that are unpublished -looking at you @carsonnieve - I’ve also done collabs… but fics co-written in the sense of two authors same chapters I don’t have anything posted I’m afraid :P

13. All-time favourite ship?

*snorts*, I guess the obvious answer is SQ uh? And I do think they were the ones that allowed me to read and write SO much. The one I feel more strongly about, however, is Bering and Wells from Warehouse 13.

14. WIP you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?

All of them counts as a valid answer? But if I only could finish one that would be Arcadia. With A forgotten Promise second and the one I did as an Assassins Creed AU third. (I don’t remember the name so there’s no link, sorry xd)

15. Writing strengths?

Uhhhh, you REALLY want me to say that? I don’t fucking know!! To me everything I write is garbage. I always try to go for the feelings so I guess. Dunno xd I’ve been told I’m good at worldbuilding and to be honest is what I enjoy the most.

16. Writing weaknesses?

Everything Xd Pacing? What I hate the most sometimes is dialogue, I would count it as a weakness but I’m always far too focused on description rather than dialogue. I don’t think it’s a bad thing per se but it’s something that I don’t do as much.

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

I’m conflicted. Always. Majorly because I think that having bilingual characters in fanfiction is portrayed and expected in a way that I don’t feel it’s honest with how bilingual people -us- talk. So if I go by what I know I do I think it’s not what readers hope to see when it comes to that and if I go for how canonically is hoped to be found I don’t think it’s logical. But that’s me and my overthinking Xd If I have the option I like to do it.

18. First fandom you ever wrote for?

Belice! Or Bella/Alice. Worst first fic ever but oh, well, I’m always saying that :P

19. What’s your fav fic you’ve written so far?

Uhh… Don’t make me do this XD Agh, I don’t know. I’ve always been very vocal about Metallic Ink because I let myself enjoy the process of creating a magic system almost out of zero and that was fun. Despite hating some of the writing process and that I’d do it differently now I think I’m going to stick with that answer. Or anything that had any steampunk-based undertone. To be honest I like more thinking of concepts, I had one in where Emma was a thief and it involved the robbery of a ring that was Regina’s one way ticket to freedom I then later repurposed that I adored thinking about so let’s go with…. Yeah, I love having the option of changing things up a little and focus on how characters would fit in different aesthetics for this one Xd

Annnd… these are four pages, gods. I’m just going to tag @waknatious @carsonnieve @stregaomega here and see what they do- Enjoy the questionnaire ladies :P

#taggie thingie #this was a monster

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fbfh · 4 years

Text

fangirl’s paradise - leo x reader

genre/vibe: romance, adventure, slice of life

word count: 2.8k

pronouns/perspective: first person present, no pronouns (I think), gn reader

au: soulmate kind of?? also traveling to other dimensions/multiverse

pairing: Leo x fic writer!reader

requested: nah

warnings: you think someone broke into your house for a minute, you feel like you’re going crazy for a minute, questionable pop culture/internet references, you get really embarrased about stuff you’ve written, you say fuck a lot, tiddy as an explative

summary: all you wanted to do was write some leo one shots for your blog, but finding out he’s your soulmate is good too

reccomended songs: havana - camila cabello, where do we go from here - amelie obc

a/n: got really meta and self indulgent with this bad boy, probs gonna do a part 2 at some point, cause this got really long and I started to get tired lol. For clarity, you’re from the riordanverse, but ended up in a world where it’s fictional. also some memories were erased.

requests r open xo

All I wanted to do was dance embarrassingly and sing along to the same playlist I’d been listening to for the past three days in terrible accents while I wait for my ramen to finish cooking. That’s it. I really don’t think that’s too much to ask for. Plus, I’ve been home alone all day, so it’s really not too much to ask for. I flip over the waistband of my sweatpants while shimmying my way to the kitchen.

“Half of my heart is in havana oh nana,” I sing along off key, in a pseudo growly voice that makes me giggle. I’m going to turn the corner, make myself some ramen, then finish the episode of love island I’ve been watching. Except that’s not what happens.

“He got tha-” I cut myself off with a scream, seeing a stranger in the hall way. He looks up. I scream more, way more, and choke out, “JFK’s left fucking tiddy!”, because this dude is either the best freaking cosplayer ever, or those tiktok reality shifting tutorials actually worked at some point.

He looks too natural, too organic. The level of detail and strategic imperfection is beyond conscious choice. There’s no way he’s a cosplayer that broke into my house. Also, that would be a super weird crime.

Either way, I’m standing in front of a dude who looks exactly like Leo Valdez.

It feels… fake.

I didn’t really notice I’m covering my mouth with my hand to stop my hysterical scream laughs, but I’m able to get it under control after a second.

He’s looking at me, eyes wide, examining me, probably wondering why I’m acting so erratically. Or why I just spat out such strange bullshit. In my defense, I’ve been watching chaotic tiktok compilations inbetween updating my blog for like, two days straight. Three other people round the corner. I don’t know what I expected, and it shouldn’t have been a surprise at this point, but I’m sure I’m looking no other than at Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, and Piper Mclean.

“Jesus fucking christ, fuck me with a chainsaw!” I spit, retreating into the kitchen, reminding myself that while they are my favorite characters - and again, somehow real and in front of me? - they’re still technically intruders. I grab the nearest kitchen implement, a pair of red kitchen scissors I’d used to hack open the ramen packet, and point it at them.

“Woah,” Piper says, “it’s okay, we’re not going to hurt you.” I count to four and breathe in, setting the scissors back down within arms reach. Hold for seven, exhale for eight. I repeated the process again, watching Annabeth whispering to Leo.

I can feel the initial freak out subsiding. I’m starting to calm down a little.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Piper repeats. Well duh, they’re the good guys. A spike of pure what the fuck shoots through me, as I realize I’m already adapting to the fact that fictional fucking characters are standing in my kitchen. Leo’s ignoring Annabeth, and still staring at me, searching my eyes for... something.

Piper’s brow furrows. I call past Piper to Annabeth.

“Yeah, hi op, what the fuck?” They all have a silent conversation for a minute, and I continue, “Anyone want to tell my why the fuck fic-”

“We can tell you what’s going on, but it’s going to sound crazy.” Piper starts.

“After the past five minutes, probably not.” I glance past her shoulder, Leo’s still examining me. I look away, overwhelmed almost immediately. About 30% of my brain is just an endless loop of ‘ohmygodohmygodohmygod he’s real??? Like,,,, r e a l real????? Aj;dlfkajskdla ohmygod he’s looking at me what the fuck richard’, 20% was still trying to calm down from freaking out so much earlier, so I was at about half brain power for the conversation ahead.

“Okay, wait. Let me get this straight.” they stare at me in silence. We’re standing in the hallway outside the kitchen, and I feel like a complete disaster trying to process what they’re telling me and not look like a total idiot.

“So, Calypso went missing, and Leo got Aphrodite to activate his soulmate link so he can find her and it led you here?” I’m already smiling. There’s no chance, I can’t get my hopes up.

Piper continues, “Which means it might not be Calypso.”

“Unless you’re wearing a really good disguise or something,” Leo says. I’m pretty sure that’s the first time he’s spoken to me. I let out a breathy laugh and look away from him. If I try to look at him my brain goes haywire. Scenes from stuff I’ve written about him on my tumblr flash in my mind, and it makes me feel like I’m about to explode.

“Yeah, the reason we know is-”

“The gods are real, monsters are after you, et cetera et cetera. Yeah.” They seem a little surprised that I’m more concerned with the soulmate part than the mythology part, but I’ve been reading these books since middle school. We been knew.

Piper keeps looking between Leo and me with a weird look on her face. God, Piper, don’t get my hopes up. A knowing look passes over her face and she looks around the room again.

“Gods, where did he go…” She gets up and leaves the room. No one says anything. Between right then and when she gets back should have been in a ‘top ten most devastating anime uncomfortable silences’ compilation. She enters again a few seconds later, a tall hot guy behind her. He has red flowers in his hair and isn’t wearing a shirt for some reason. He looks between me and Leo.

“I see… interesting.” he turns to me and says, “Can you tell me anything… personal about him?” My face flushes. I turn to Piper.

“Sorry, but who the fuck?”

“I mean the only noncanon stuff I know is what I came up with for like, writing and stuff but that doesn’t count-” I sputter.

“Eros.” she replies, “My mom sent him along to help find the right person.”

“Normally I’d be able to tell instantly, but my powers don’t seem to work here very well.” his voice is like honey, and it seems like he’s heavily implying something no matter what he says.

“Yeah, go on hermosa,” Leo says, smirking, “take a whack at it.” His voice sounds so much more… real than I could have imagined. If I could verbally keysmash, I would have then and there.

“Hmm… why don’t you try anyway. What kind of lover is he?” the room erupts into protests. They don’t want to hear personal stuff about their friend, I don’t want to talk about cripplingly embarrassing smut headcanons in front of the character they’re about, and he probably doesn’t want me taking a wild guess at his bedroom habits. Eros turns to Percy, Annabeth, and Piper.

“You two, out. You, leave but stay close.” They leave the room hastily.

“Since I’m the god of sexual desire, I know what gets people going. I’ll be able to tell if you’re right or not. ” Eros says. I risk a glance at Leo, who I have a feeling has been staring at me a lot. He leans forward, playful intrigue all over him. How is he not dying inside??

“Ah ah,” Eros says to Leo, “you too.” Leo obliges, and heads up the stairs.

“H- okay, uh… he acts like a top, but he’s really kind of a bottom,” I choke out, trying to remember details from past posts, and Eros nods in approval, encouraging me to keep going, “he’s really-” my voice falters, and I hide my head in my hands, “he’s really vocal, like really vocal… uh…”

“Oh yes, I can tell.” Eros says, and I laugh slightly. “What else?”

“More? God okay… uh… he really likes hickeys, and-” I choke on my words, still unsure of how I got in this situation.

“He holds hands a lot in… the bedroom? God…” I trail off.

“The next morning, he kind of… he just sort of stares at you while you get dressed and stuff. I don’t know anyone else who does that.”

Eros studies me for a second. My heart is beating so hard. How long does it take to say yes or no? I’m uncomfortably aware of the distracting adrenaline in my arms and chest and head.

“Interesting,” he says, then stands up and leaves the room.

What the fuck, is he not going to tell me anything?

I’m listening as closely as I can, and I’m pretty sure I hear Eros say five out of five. I got everything right or everything wrong. Nailed it or failed it.

Piper speeds past me a second later and races up the stairs. After a few seconds she comes back down. She nods toward the staircase.

“You should go talk to him.” a knowing smile is playing at the corner of her mouth, and I can’t stop one from starting on mine. I run up the stairs, and see him, kneeling on my bed, reading what’s on my laptop.

Oh god, no.

He stands up. He’s staring at me so intensely, I look away immediately. I start sputtering out a panicked apology and sit down on my bed, moving to shut the lid of my laptop.

“Uh… I just listen to a song or something that makes me think of you,” my voice gets really tiny at that last part, “and stuff starts to pop into my head. I just keep replaying it, and uncovering more details so I can wr- wait,” I start to look up at him, but can’t bring myself to meet his eyes. I stare intensely at the pattern on my quilt instead. “Did you say remember?” He lets out a breathy laugh, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

“-of course I never thought you were going to read any of that, or…” His hand is on top of mine, my hand and voice freezing at the same time.

“How… did you remember all this?” my fears are being squashed. He doesn’t sound mad, or grossed out, or judgemental. He sounds… impressed.

“Yeah, I mean, I’m only starting to get back bits and pieces, but you remember… everything.”

“Wait wait…” I mutter, completely dazed, “so it wasn’t… it was all real?” I feel him nodding behind me, and he makes a noise of agreement.

“It was genius, really… as soon as I felt like I was remembering something, I’d forget it.” His other hand rests on my shoulder, palm flat against my back. “Only you would think to write it like that…”

“So… it all happened?” I breathe, my face heating up as I think of the titles marked with a little asterisk.

“Yeah,” I bite my lip, feeling his breath over my skin. It’s quiet for a second. The mattress shifts and I can feel him leaning closer to me, feel the heat coming off his body. His lips are dangerously close to my ear.

“Want something else to write about?”

Oh my fucking god.

I nod before I finish registering what he said. His free hand moves to my cheek, tilting my face towards him, and my skin explodes with sparks where he touches me.

Our lips brush.

We both freeze.

Flood gates open. Countless vivid images and feelings and scenarios flash across my mind. It was like watching a movie connecting every fic I’ve written. I gasp-laugh a little, and he does the same. It seems like the visions or whatever that he’s seeing are a lot more intense than mine. His eyes flutter open and he looks at me stronger, more intensely, more passionately than he had before. He lets out a soft, breathy laugh, and presses his lips to mine. Everywhere he touches feels carbonated, and I’m trying not to smile too much. I don’t think I’ve ever been more in the moment than right this second. He pulls me closer, tilting his head and deepening the kiss. I didn’t know a kiss could be deeper than it had been a few seconds ago. His mouth moves feverishly against mine. My arms move up on instinct, one hand playing with his hair, the other tracing the collar of his shirt. He shifts his weight, and one hand on my waist, lowers me back onto my bed. His left hand intertwines with my right, and I smile, remembering what I had told Eros earlier.

“Estrella,” He groans into my mouth, our teeth scraping as we smile in spite of ourselves, and I get the sense the nickname was an ‘as you wish’ type of thing, from the Princess Bride. It feels like he’s saying I love you. My heart speeds up as he nuzzles into my neck, pressing kisses and little bites into my skin. I think about the nickname I always thought would suit him, the one I kept writing down over and over. Now or never.

“Sparky…” I smile, hiding my face in his hair. He freezes for a second, then lets out that breathy laugh again, his face in my neck. His lips graze my collarbone, and he starts to say something, but the door opens suddenly, and we jump apart. It doesn’t help much though, because he’s still hovering over me on all fours and we both look very flushed. And I’m pretty sure the start of a hickey is forming on my neck.

“Right,” she replies, “we gotta get going, the door is closing soon, so come down stairs as soon as you’re… free.”

“Sorry!” Annabeth yells, averting her eyes. Leo and I stumble over each other’s flustered responses.

“-looks bad but nothing… happened… we d- we didn’t like, do anything...” I trail off.

The door closes.

“I’m coming with you guys?” I breathe. He looks over at me, that unflappable sense of playfulness present as ever.

Leo sits back, scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah, we should get back soon. Everyone else will be worried once they remember.” My heart plummets. I didn’t know you could go from feeling so incredibly euphoric to beyond miserable in about five seconds. I open my mouth to choke out a response, but before I can, he stands up and stretches a little.

“Do you wanna change before we go?” The question has such a normal tone to it, it’s a little bizarre after all the unusual things that have happened today. The bad feeling and tears at the corners of my eyes start to recede.

“Of course you are. If you think I’m losing you again this soon you’re crazier than I am.” I let out a relieved laugh, and stand up. I look down at my monster foot slippers and sweatpants.

“You know where to find me,” he winks before closing the door on his way out.

“Yeah, I should probably change.” He pulls me close to him, one hand comes up to the back of my neck, the other on my hip. He starts swaying us back and forth, dancing around my room.

“Well, if you need any help…” I laugh, and shove him away playfully.

I take a second to catch my breath. Oh my god. Thoughts are still racing in the back of my mind, but I don’t pay attention. I don’t have time to worry about what’s real and what’s not, I need to find the perfect demigod adventure outfit. I throw open my closet, start shuffling through dresser drawers, digging through my shoes. I don’t remember having one or two of the pieces, but after a minute, I find exactly what I’m looking for. It’s the exact outfit I’d always imagined myself in if I ever went to camp half blood. I search through my accessories, grab a bag, and hastily fill it with anything I think I’ll probably need. I turn back to my laptop, and change my blog description to on hiatus. I check my hair, flattening out the back from before, and determine I’m ready to go.

I walk down the stairs, and everyone’s watching me. I feel like it’s prom or something, which sounds silly since I’ve got on ripped jeans and a backpack instead of a dress and clutch. Leo’s watching me with that look, the one that makes his eyes all sparkly, and he meets me at the bottom of the stairs. He puts his arm around my shoulder.

“Ready to go home, Estrella?”

I have never been more ready for anything.

#Leo Valdez #leo x reader #leo valdez x reader #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #leo valdez imagine #heroes of olympus imagine

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katedrakeohd · 3 years

Text

Once Upon a Merry Birthday - Part Three

[Masterlist]

Rated PG : sexual themes, suggestive language.

Word count: 3730

Synopsis: Drake and Kate's roleplay "first date" scenario continues, taking foreplay to another level.

This isn't a stand-alone story, you need to read parts one and two to understand the context.

This started out as a story for the 12 days of fictmas, but I didn't finish it all in time. And since there's a Part Four coming too... we won't be done with this until January.

Writer tags: : @texaskitten30 @emichelle @leelee10898 @zaffrenotes @alj4890 @burnsoslow @kat-tia801 @darley1101 @msjr0119 @annekebbphotography @god-save-the-keen @plumeriavibes

@ofpixelsandscribbles @camillemontespan @ao719 @cocomaxley @cordoniansgonewild @twinkleallnight @the-soot-sprite @cordoniantrash @axwalker @innerpostmentality @lucy-268 @janezillow

Reader tags:: @mom2000aggie @sfb123 @bbrandy2002 @debramcg1106 @desireepow-1986 @speedyoperarascalparty @hopefulmoonobject @fluffyfirewhiskey @jovialyouthmusic @sirbeepsalot

Drake places his hands on the back of Kate's chair. The heat from his body radiated across her shoulder blades, and his warm breath smelled of whiskey as he bent down to ask, "Can I have my seat back now?"

Kate shivers as his breath caresses her skin. He turns her chair and then offers her his hand to help her up. "Such a gentleman."

"Only in public," he murmurs as he bows to kiss her knuckles.

"We haven't been formally introduced. My name is Drake Walker."

"Walker, like the whiskey?," Kate replies.

"No, Drake, like the dragon."

Kate pulls her hand back out of his grasp, the warmth of his fingers was like a delicious fire that blazed up her arm. "Kate Darling."

"Darling, such an endearing sort of name. I can't place your accent."

"I'm from New York."

Drake sits down and then gestures to the seat beside him, "Please sit with me Kate."

Kate sits down, sliding her wine glass over to herself. Amanda walks over, smiling at them both but addressing Drake first, "Would you like something else to drink?"

Drake slides Preston's diluted Coke back across the counter, "Can I get a new one of these?"

Amanda nods, pouring it out and drawing new soda from the fountain and a fresh scoop of ice.

Kate looks Drake up and down, appreciating how nice he looked all in black. "I thought I smelled whiskey on your breath earlier. Not having another?"

Drake shakes his head and sips at his Coke, "I haven't had dinner yet, so I need to pace myself."

Kate swirls the wine around in her glass, biting at her bottom lip. "Have dinner with me."

Drake places his drink down, raising his eyebrows, "Is that an invitation or a request?"

"It's my Birthday and I don't want to eat alone."

Drake nods, "Happy Birthday, then. I would be honoured to have dinner with you."

Drake signals to Amanda, "The lovely Kate has invited me to have dinner with her, could you bring what's left of that bottle of Merlot to our table?"

"Only if you settle your drink tab first."

Drake leans to the side to pull out his wallet, "Certainly."

He leans over and whispers to Kate, "Go find us a table, and I'll be right over."

Kate nods, leaning in to cup his face in her hands and kiss him softly on the lips. "Don't be long."

Drake groans softly at the desire in her eyes, wondering how much longer this first date roleplay was going to continue. He leans back reluctantly, and turns to hand Amanda his credit card. Kate slides out of her seat and gives him a long lingering look before walking into the dining room.

Amanda grins at him as she hands his card back, "You two are clearly hot for each other, so why all the polite pleasantries? Get your freak on already."

Drake looks over to the booth in the far corner of the restaurant that Kate was sliding into, "Not yet, we need more foreplay."

A waiter approaches Kate's table with a pair of menus tucked under his arm, Drake takes another long swallow of his Coke and then gets up out of his seat. Amanda places two clean wine glasses on the bar next to the bottle. When the waiter leaves, Kate makes eye contact with Amanda and nods,

"You're all set, go get her tiger."

Drake flashes Amanda a smirk and then picks up the bottle and glasses, cradling the stems between his fingers, "Is that your way of wishing me luck?"

Amanda picks up his unfinished Coke and dumps it out, laughing quietly, "Like you need it. With the way she's looking at you over the top of her menu, I'd say you're already a lucky man."

Drake nods with a smile, turning away from the bar, "Thank-you, Amanda. You certainly have a way with words. Have a pleasant evening, and if I don't see you again before I leave, a Merry Christmas too."

"You too, sir."

Making his way over to Kate, Drake couldn't help but appreciate how elegant she looked. With her dark hair cascading over her bare shoulders in waves, long curled lashes and ruby red full lips, Kate could have been a star from an old Hollywood movie. When she glances up from the menu and meets his gaze with a smile, his heart skips and he can't help but feel a wave of desire wash over him.

Arriving at the table, he shows her the bottle of wine and carefully sets down a wine glass in front of her. She nods and he pours her some, before sliding into the seat across from her. He pours wine for himself, and then sets the bottle aside. "So, Kate Darling, what brings you all the way to Cordonia from New York?"

Kate gives him a little smile, a twinkle in her eye as she leans forward in her seat to fold her arms on the table. "Now, that's an interesting story. You probably wouldn't believe me."

Drake tried to ignore the way her breasts threatened to spill out of her dress, he quickly diverted his eyes to her face. "Try me."

"Do you believe in fairytales Drake?"

Apart from the fact that I pretty much live in one? Drake shrugs, picking up his glass of wine. "That depends."

"Depends on what?"

"Whether or not there's a happy ending."

"Would you believe I came here following a handsome Prince?"

Drake takes a sip of his wine, grimacing at the bitter taste and then swallows. "A Prince, huh? And how did that turn out? Certainly the guy you came in with wasn't acting very noble."

Kate toys with the stem of her glass, tracing it with her fingers. "It turned out that the Prince wasn't my type."

"I see, and what kind of man is your type?"

Picking up her glass of wine and settling back in her seat, she looks Drake over. With his large callused hands, his broad chest and shoulders and the hint of black hair peeking out of the open collar of his shirt; he was almost too masculine for his black dress shirt and jacket, if that was possible for someone so handsome. When she meets his dark eyes again she answers, "Someone more humble, rough around the edges, and less refined. The unsung, mysterious hero kind of guy."

"So the knight in shining armor that slays dragons, and then whisks away the fair maiden on his galloping horse." Drake answers with a smirk.

Kate grins back, "Something like that."

Drake takes another swallow of wine, feeling the effects of the alcohol, but missing the burning sensation of his whiskey.

Kate giggles at him, "You're not a wine drinker are you?"

Drake smirks back at her and sets down his glass, "Is it that obvious?"

"You throw it back as if you're expecting some sort of satisfaction out of it. Like the smokey burn of your whiskey. But you're doing it wrong."

"Oh? Enlighten me then."

"Whiskey is all fire, smoke and a punch in the throat. Whether you sip it or not it goes down the same. Wine is more earthy and rounded in flavour. You hold it in your mouth and feel it with more than your tongue. Let your taste buds and palate bathe in it until you experience the notes from the fruit it came from, and appreciate the sundrenched vines that gave it life."

Drake raises his eyebrows, "You make wine sound like poetry."

"A great wine is."

Kate takes another sip of her wine, closing her eyes and savoring it for a moment before swallowing. She moans quietly with pleasure as she discerns the specific flavors. Drake swallows too, feeling a different kind of thirst. To Drake the wine just tasted like bitter grape juice, but after hearing Kate describe how she used her whole mouth to experience it, he thought about what else she's had her whole mouth wrapped around. He suddenly felt hot all over, and shifted in his seat as his pants felt tighter too. He clears his throat, trying to swallow the lump threatening to make his voice come out like a squeak.

"So Kate, describe what it tastes like to you."

Kate licks at her bottom lip and then smiles, "Well, to me I taste black cherry, with notes of cocoa and plum."

Drake looks doubtful, "Really? Shouldn't there be a grape in there somewhere?"

Kate shrugs, opening up her menu. "If I wanted the taste of grape I'd just order grape juice."

"It would definitely taste sweeter. If I was looking to taste hints of chocolate and cherries with my drink, I'd ask for some chocolate covered cherries with a side of brandy."

Kate giggles, "For someone who enjoys such a strong drink you certainly have a sweet tooth."

Drake chuckles, "Hey, I like my food and I'm no stranger to dessert. A guy can't live off of whiskey alone."

After opening up his own menu, Drake wonders what meal would go best with the wine. He needed something to distract him from the way Kate looked in her dress. He couldn't see what she'd been so self conscious about. He'd argue with anyone who refused to believe she'd had a baby just a few months ago.

Kate looks up to see Drake staring at her instead of looking at his menu.

"What are you hungry for, Drake? And I'm talking about food."

Averting his eyes down to his menu, he smiles. "Well can you blame me? You're easily the most beautiful woman in the room. Don't forget that you already stoked the fire with that kiss you gave me."

Kate glances around the room. Apart from Amanda the bartender, and an older woman sitting with an elderly man, she was the only other woman in the room. "You seemed friendly with the bartender. She's certainly attractive."

Drake looks up, hearing the hint of jealousy in her voice. "Well, you walked in on the arm of another man. As for Amanda, it's her job to be friendly. Why is it so difficult for you to take a compliment?"

Before Kate can respond, the waiter returns to their table. "Hello, I'm Eric. I see you've already chosen a wine, could I interest you in an appetizer?"

After the bitterness of the wine, Drake was in the mood for something sweet and salty. "I think we'll start with the Charcuterie board to share." He glances at Kate, "If that's okay with you?"

Kate nods. "Works for me. Oh, and I'll have the Sautéed Forest Mushrooms to go along with it."

After Eric leaves with their order, Drake settles back in his seat with a sigh. His neck was itchy from the stray hairs left behind from his haircut and they scraped his skin inside his collar. Kate noticed him fidget as he smoothed down the back of his hair and rubbed at his neck.

"I knew I heard your voice when I was down at the spa. Is your new haircut not to your liking? I think it makes you look very handsome."

Drake grins, finally giving in and scratching at his neck. "You do? I figured since you were there to get all pampered and polished, that it was only right that I made an effort to look good too. If only I'd had the chance to shower afterwards, because now the stray hairs from my trim are pricking my neck like crazy."

Kate offers him her napkin, "Here, undo another button on your shirt and then give your neck a wipe. It's better to do it now before our food arrives."

Reaching up to undo his button, he pauses. "Are you offering me your napkin just so you can watch me undo my shirt?"

Kate laughs and then picks up her glass of wine to finish it. "Maybe. At least it will spare me from watching you twitch, squirm and scratch at yourself like you have fleas."

Drake smirks at her briefly and then undoes the two buttons near his collar. "Haha, fleas. I suppose you think you're funny?"

The napkin works its magic, and he appreciates the cool smoothness of it as he wipes his neck and throat. Kate watches his every move with interest. It was like watching him shower with his clothes on. A flashback to earlier in the day when he spontaneously stripped down for the sake of hot chocolate pops into her head. Despite the thin material of her dress and the cool atmosphere in the room, she felt a surge of heat bloom under her skin and creep up into her face. She hoped Drake wouldn't notice.

Kate picks up her menu to pretend to look at entrees. The low rumbling chuckle of Drake's voice sends a thrill fizzing through her veins that rushes to her core. "I do believe you're drunk, Mrs. Walker."

Yes, drunk on you. Kate closes her menu and leans her elbows on the table, propping her chin in her hands. She could feel the heat in her cheeks against her cool fingers. "I blame that on you, Mister. I haven't had a sip of alcohol for a year and a half, so my tolerance for it is super low."

Drake feels a sudden stab of guilt, "Oh shit, you're not still breastfeeding are you?"

Kate shakes her head, "Nah, I stopped two months ago. Once Brooklyn became too heavy to comfortably hold in my arms while feeding, I started pumping my milk instead and freezing it. When the reserved milk ran out, Hana and I introduced her to formula."

The image of Kate using a breast pump suddenly invades Drake's thoughts, and he shoves it away for another time. The guilt creeps back in when he thinks about how much he's missed of Brooklyn's first six months, making him realize why Kate was so reluctant to leave their daughter behind. She was growing so fast that Kate didn't want to miss a minute of it.

Eric approaches carrying a tray with their appetizers. Drake shakes out the napkin he borrowed from Kate, and offers it back to her. She's reluctant at first, thinking of the possibility of the hairs he was wiping off his neck still being on it, then she thinks about the possibility of his cologne being on it too and accepts it.

Eric lays down the Charcuterie board and Kate's plate of mushrooms. "I'll let you two tuck into these and then come see you later about entrees."

Kate smiles, "Thanks, Eric. These look great."

While Drake is preoccupied by looking at the board of cured meats and cheeses, Kate sneaks a sniff of the napkin before spreading it onto her lap. It did carry the faint scent of him, and she can't help but notice that he's forgotten to re-button his shirt.

Drake picks up a cracker and a piece of prosciutto while Kate spears a mushroom from her plate, "So what did you say to Preston to make him act like such an ass?"

After swallowing her morsel of mushroom, Kate replies. "I told him to pretend he's the worst date ever, so that we'd get your attention."

Drake scoffs with a slight shake of his head before putting the cracker and meat into his mouth, "It definitely worked. If I was sitting closer I would have torn him apart with my bare hands for touching you like that."

Kate grins at her husband as he washes down his mouthful with a swallow of wine. She always found his fierce protective side so damned sexy, and now regretted handling Preston's bad behavior herself.

"Oh really? I would love to have seen you fight him for me. I suppose he's too sore now to do a replay for my amusement. Poor Preston."

"I was hoping for a romantic dinner date this evening for your birthday, not emasculating brutality. Then again it was fun to watch you stick up for yourself." Drake winces again with a chuckle as he refills his glass, "I'll have to add some extra money to his Christmas bonus this year for enduring that knee of yours."

Kate slips her foot out of her shoe and then extends it to tickle at Drake's ankle with her toe. He flinches and bangs his knee under the table, rattling the glasses. "Ow! I wasn't expecting that sneak attack."

Kate giggles, sliding the side of her foot up the inside of his calf. "I bet part of you enjoyed that. I apologized to Preston in advance, he wasn't expecting my sneak attack either."

Drake clears his throat in warning when he intercepts Kate's toes with his hand as they end up on his seat, wiggling against his crotch. "Excuse me, but can you keep your feet to yourself please?"

Kate withdraws her foot with a pout, finding her discarded shoe and tucking her foot back inside. "Oh, come on. Let a girl have some fun on her birthday."

Drake adjusts himself and then slides his foot forward to trap the toe of her shoe against the floor. "I think we've made enough of a scene for one evening."

Kate spears another mushroom, pulling her knees off to the side and crossing her ankles to get her feet out of his reach. The deep vee of skin revealed by his open shirt still taunted and tantalized, but she was enjoying it too much to mention it. She decided to tease him back to gauge his reaction.

Lowering her voice she makes eye contact with him as she slowly licks the button top of the mushroom before putting it into her mouth. "I guess I'll behave then."

Drake sucks in a breath as he feels the blood rush to his groin, he grips his thigh and squeezes, trying to distract himself with pain. He quickly tents the napkin in his lap to hide the full blown erection in his pants. He growls at her from across the table, "Damn it, Kate. You don't play fair."

Leaning her breasts on her forearm as she reaches across the table for the bottle of wine, she replies. "Nope."

Drake's appetite for food vanishes as Kate pours the last of the wine into her glass. She wants to play games? I'll give her one. He picks up a cube of cheese from the board in front of him and lays it on the table. Calculating the trajectory in his head he waits for her to lift the glass to her lips before cocking his finger against his thumb and flicking the cheese at her, aiming for the valley between her breasts.

As it makes impact, her eyes shoot open and she spits her wine back into her glass, causing some to dribble down over her chin. "Peh! Drake! What are you doing?!"

Drake throws his head back and laughs as she sets her drink down, sloshing wine onto the tablecloth. She wipes at her chin with the back of her hand, shaking her head as she feels a giggle bubble up out of her throat.

"Oh, that's it. You're on Buster."

Drake lines up more cheese cubes as Kate grabs the dish of olives. "You're going to need another shower after this."

"And it's going to be fun licking the cheese and cracker crumbs off of you afterwards," he replies, snapping a cracker in half before placing it between his fingers and launching it at her shoulder. She tries to duck out of the way, but still ends up with cracker in her hair.

Kate uses her fork to catapult an olive at him, aiming for the open neck of his shirt. It disappears in the vicinity of his collar and he cringes, scrunching up his shoulders as he feels the olive roll across his skin and land in his armpit.

"Ach! That feels weird."

"Hey, you're the one who flicked cheese at me first."

Drake pulls his shirt away from his chest and peeks in to see where the olive went. "Yeah, well I wasn't expecting you to pretend to give head to a mushroom before putting it into your mouth. I know where those naughty lips of yours have been."

Kate flicks another olive at him, this one hits him on the ear, and he flinches again. "Ok, that's enough!"

She spears another mushroom and eats it, poking it around her cheek with her tongue. Drake covers his eyes with one hand, sweeping the cheese projectiles back toward the board with the other. "You win, I can't compete with what you're doing to me with those mushrooms."

Kate sets the dish of olives aside, enjoying her little victory. "So you do find food seductive afterall."

Drake sighs, leaning back in his seat. "And I thought the way you described the taste of wine was sexy. But holy hell.."

Kate reaches across to pick up a roll of salami in her fingers. She licks her lips before biting it in half and then offering the other half to him. He leans in, hooking his finger against her hand and then pulls the meat into his mouth. He chews and swallows and then sucks the saltiness off of her fingertips. The pleasant jolt that shoots up her arm makes her shiver, and her eyes flutter shut.

"Oh God," she gasps.

He smirks as she pulls her hand back and then buries both of them in her lap. "You're welcome."

Eric returns to the table to find the contents of the charcuterie board scattered across the table, the mushrooms only half eaten and wine stains on the tablecloth. He pauses to collect himself and then asks, "Are we done playing with our appetizers and ready to order a main course?"

Drake glances across at Kate, taking in her flushed cheeks, and the dark desire in her eyes. He leans back in his seat and sucks in a deep breath before answering, "Actually, Eric. I think we'd like to skip dinner and have the check please."

As Eric nods, reaching for the empty wine bottle, Drake lays his hand on his arm. "Oh, and the wine is already paid for. We thoroughly enjoyed it, but I better not get charged for it twice."

#drake walker #choices #long post #drake x kate #the royal heir

19 notes · View notes

okk--maaan · 4 years

Note

Hello :) it's the anon who requested the headcanons on how Charlie would take care of a partner who had experience with bad relationships. I absolutely LOVED how you wrote that/handled that and I was wondering if you could tell me how Charlie would be with a lover who is curvy and a bit insecure about that? -🦕

Hello my dear!! Oohh! If you’re gonna use the dino emoji can I call you Lil Foot (I can’t think of any other cute/clever nicknames lol)? I’m SO glad you liked the last thing I wrote for you - I was a lil worried about it for a minute!

Instead of HCs, I wrote you a whole lil (wow I say lil a lot) ficlet this time! It definitely turned into smut - WHOOPS! When I started outlining it I literally wrote -- in my notebook with a pen -- ‘ok this gone get real nasty’. I hope that’s ok and I hope it gives what you were looking for! And let me say that I and any of the boys I will ever write for LOVE AND APPRECIATE AND ACCEPT ALL BODY TYPES!!! Thicc Thighs Save Lives is a longstanding motto here!!

Also I’m a bad writer so it takes me forever to write anything (and my ADHD and anxiety be like nah fam) and I did very little editing to this so sorry for all of those things.

Word Count: ~2k

CW: curvy/plus size RC, body insecurity, smuuttt, like one mention of spanking, slightly Dom!Charlie (?), alcohol consumption, fluffiness (’cause ‘course), lots of build up (what can I say? I like foreplay), bad grammar

“Charlie,” you whine standing in front of your open closet, still in your robe. You couldn’t believe what you were looking at. He really wanted you to wear this tonight? And he really wanted you to wear that underneath?

Hanging neatly on the inside of the closet door was a slinky red dress -- that you knew was going to be way too tight -- and a meticulously matched set of lacey lingerie. Silently judging you. ‘Nope’ you thought to yourself, ‘Not happening’.

Just as you start rummaging through your wardrobe for one of your other perfectly fine, perfectly comfortable dresses, Charlie steps into the bedroom. Sensing his presence, you turn to find him already fully dressed. He’s wearing a charcoal gray suit, tapered and tailored precisely to his body, and a slim navy blue tie. His black oxfords look freshly polished and his neatly parted hair is almost as shiny.

“Wow. You look nice,” you say with a bit of a bite as you pivot back to the task at hand. It wasn’t fair that he was able to look that sophisticated and handsome with such little effort.

Hearing your bitterness, he cautiously moves in closer, rests a large hand on your back. “What’s wrong honey? You don’t like what I picked out for you?” He nods his head towards the offending articles of fabric.

Without losing any heat in your voice, you shoot back, “Well Mr. Barber. I don’t think your lovely gifts here are going to exactly accentuate my figure!” Oohh maybe that was a little harsh. But Charlie never falters, takes you in stride, like he always does.

“Baby,” he says in that way that just makes your heart -- and every other part of your body -- melt. “I wouldn’t have picked these things for you if I didn’t think you were going to look absolutely stunning in them.” With that, he places a loving peck to your forehead and steps back to sit on the bed. “Please, honey, put them on. For me.”

And only because you have such a weakness for when he talks to you like that, do you undo the tie on your robe, place it in the closet, and begin timidly dressing yourself in his gifts.

Even with your back to him, you can feel Charlie’s gaze boring into. Studying. Studying the way your hips and thighs round out as you stand naked in front of him. The way your backside swells as you bend down to step into your panties. The way the soft curve of your breasts peeks out as you reach up to loop your arms through your bra.

Charlie can already feel himself stirring under his suit pants.

As soon as you pull the dress straps over your shoulders, he’s back to standing behind you, hand on your zipper. “Let me, sweet thing,” he whispers into your skin, right against that tender spot between your neck and shoulder. His lips never leave you as he closes you up. Once the zipper reaches the top, he shifts back to observe you fully. Admire.

Even technically fully clothed, you can’t help but feel self-conscious exposed with the way the fabric hugs your body. Instinctually, you go to wrap your arms around your middle, to try to hide. But apparently Charlie can read minds and he’ll have none of that. His long fingers wrap gently, knowingly around each of your wrists. He places another kiss to that spot on your neck and whispers, “beautiful.”

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

The theater is dark, aside from the few soft spotlights that glow over the actors on stage. It’s quiet enough that you can hear Charlie beside you, scribbling in his notebook.

But he’s not focusing on what he’s writing nearly as much as he should be. Instead of the words on the page, all he can see are images of you pulling on that dress. All he can think about is that memory of your supple skin, wanting to map out every inch. If he wasn’t trying so hard to get these damned notes down, his hands would be all over you.

Those thoughts alone are enough to get him growing in his pants again.

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

With your second glass of wine in your hand, you are finally starting to relax a little. You lost Charlie to the hustle and bustle of the after party some time ago. But that’s ok. You understand there are certain duties he must fulfill as the director on opening night. When you find each other again, you can tell he’s already had several scotches by the flush in his cheeks and slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. And that’s also ok. He deserves to celebrate tonight after all those months of hard work.

When his eyes lock with yours, his pupils are blown black and wide and there’s something behind them other than just a few drinks. He doesn’t interrupt the conversation you’re having, just places a hot hand on your ass. And squeezes. It takes everything in you not to squeal outright in front of your friends and Charlie’s cast. He leans down to murmur into your ear, “let’s go home now.” His words are slurred just slightly but their meaning rings through you crystal clear. He composes himself enough to turn to the small crowd that’s gathered and excuse the two off you. And before you have a chance to say the rest of your goodbyes, he’s whisking you out the door.

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

The second the doorknob to Charlie’s apartment latches closed, his hands lips tongue are all over you. You have little time to catch your breath before his hot hot mouth is on yours, prying you open. You can taste the remnants of alcohol on his breath. With his hands on your waist he’s pulling pulling pulling you further through the foyer and into the living room. As you stumble around corners and furniture, he mumbles against you, “You looked so good tonight baby. So fucking sexy. Mmnhh I love you in this dress. I was getting so hard just looking at you.”

“Charlie,” you gasp as he suddenly breaks all contact, leaving you disoriented, and plops down on the couch. His legs are spread wide and his chest is heaving.

“Take this off baby,” he leans forward to pinch at your thigh, just above the hem of your dress.

“Uh-huh,” you bob your head up and down until it tips back and your eyes close and your hands reach behind you for your zipper. You tilt your chin down and open your eyes to him when the zipper reaches the bottom. Your arms fall to your sides knowing he’s in charge right now. He’ll tell you how he wants you next.

“Turn around sweet thing,” he instructs, more breath than words.

Somehow more heat rushes through your body, through your face, neck, fingers, thighs, toes. You’re already so hot too hot. You cross one heeled foot in front of the other and spin to face away from him. Behind you, you hear the clink clink of Charlie’s belt buckle followed by his own zipper sliding down. Then the sound of fabric rustling, bunching up. You know he’s stroking himself now. Watching you.

“Pull it down. Slowly.”

You do as you're told. Of course you do. You want this just as badly as he does. You push the straps down your arms and over your plump chest, breath ragged. You let the dress pool atop your full hips and wait for further direction.

Charlie huffs out a light life, reveling in how good you’re being for him. “Keep going baby.”

With one final shove, the crimson cloth slides down your thick thighs before falling around your ankles. Charlie groans, deep and guttural. Goosebumps spring up over your newly exposed flesh, assaulted by the cool air and Charlie’s sounds.

“Take your bra off.”

That one was easy. You unhook the clasp and let it hit the floor with your dress.

And you wait again. Wait. Wait. You listen to Charlie’s deep breathing and picture him slowly pulling up down up down on his length. Your pussy drips then clenches at the thought. You’re not sure how much longer you’ll be able to stand.

“Bend over baby.”

Ever so slowly, you lower your torso, brace yourself on your shins.

You hear movement behind you again. Charlie moves off the couch to rest on his knees. Eye level with your ass. You feel his fingertips trace lightly up your thighs, exploring. More goosebumps. A moan escapes your throat. “Nnnnhh yes sweet thing,” he says. Then another squeeze. “Mmm so soft.” He relishes in the way your flesh gives for his fingers. Mesmerized by the way he can leave little dimples where he presses. He inches closer to graze his lips across each leg. “I love you so much baby. I love your body. You’re so perfect.” His words send a shock from the crown of your head to your needy core. You need him.

“Charlie please. Give me something. Anything,” why was he teasing you like this? You know you hadn’t drank nearly as much as him, but now it felt like you did.

Mischievously he responds, “Oh I’ll give you something.” With one swift movement, he rips down your panties -- probably ruining them -- and buries his face in your pussy. “Ahhh!” is the only answer you have. He lavishes scorching open mouth kisses over your slick lips, occasionally brushing your stiff clit with his tongue. “Mmmm you really are so sweet baby,” he groans against you. Losing yourself, all you can do is chant, “Yes yes yes.” With one final suck, he pulls off. He sticks two of his fingers in his mouth, getting them nice and wet and warm for you, then shoves them into you. While he pumps in and out of you, he kisses your thighs, nips at your ass and asks, “Are you ready for my cock sweet thing?” His hands fill you to the brim, but they’re never enough, never compare to his cock. “Yes Charlie ! Yes! Please!” After a few more thrust, he withdraws his digits, smacks one of your bare cheeks loving the way it shakes, and returns to the couch.

“Come here my beautiful flower,” he holds his full proud dick up for you. You more than happily lower yourself over him, hands on his knees, just enough for him to drag his swollen head through your folds. When he feels he’s slicked up enough, he grips your waist and pulls you all the way down. His big cock knocks the wind out of you. Always does. And your body is already so exhausted from the build up, you can’t help but slump against him, heavy head leaning on his broad shoulder. Your back sticks to his chest.

You roll your head so your tingling lips can find his neck. There you moan and whisper sweet nothings between kisses. One of your sweaty hands reaches up to tug at his ear and fist in his hair. You roll your hips on him one...two...three...four.

Charlie can’t take it anymore. “Fuck,” he grunts as he lifts you to give him space to really pound into you. And oh he does. Digging into your fleshy hips, he fucks hard into you, asks, “You like that sweet thing? Does that feel good?” “Aaarghh! Yes baby! Unngghhh! Please. Don’t. Stop!” You were already so close. And so was he.

Reading your thoughts again, he drops one hand to rub at your wanting clit. And you see stars. Moans, grunts, screams rip your throat raw. The hand still on your hip smooths its way up your soft belly and gropes at your tit, your stiff nipple. “Char-uh-lie! I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” He picks up the pace and pressure of the circles he’s drawing into your clit. And you tumble. Down down down a hole of pure pleasure. “Fuucckk!!” you shout as the tidal waves of your orgasm come crashing down on you. You can barely hear Charlie’s stangled words, “Yes yes sweet thing cum for me. Shit!” With the sensation of you squeezing clenching fluttering around him, he’s cumming. Cumming so deep inside you. Hot thick ropes.

“Hhhnngg,” his final moan rumbles through your bones as his hips stutter, slow, and eventually stop. Your bodies feel like jelly and mold into one another as you come down, trying to steady your breath.

Finally able to speak, Charlie nuzzles his nose behind your ear and places a tender kiss there. “I love you flower. And that dress fit you perfectly.”

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irrelevantwriter · 5 years

Text

Daddy Isn’t In Charge

Pairing: Negan x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, daddy kink (majorly), oral sex (female receiving), dry humping, unprotected vaginal sex, Negan being submissive (bc why not?)

Word Count: 2.8K

Summary: Negan upsets you and now he has to get back into your good graces.

A/N: This is a request fulfillment for the lovely @pirateking289! Thank you for being so patient! I loved the concept and I had a lot of fun writing it, despite my untimely writer’s block lol. This is based off a very memorable scene from the movie “Wolf of Wallstreet”. I’ll add the gif into the story to give a visual. I hope I did it justice. Enjoy and share with your friends!

*Masterlist in bio.

**********************

You smiled softly as you fingered the wide grins plastered along the picture in your hand. The image was of you and Negan on your wedding day, the smiles you both wore a testament to just how special the day had been. Despite your current frustration at your husband, your heart beat faster at the sight of his attractive face. You cursed his enchanting abilities, even in photographic form.

You thought back on that day seven years ago and your whole body started to tingle. Negan was your soulmate, your clichéd other half. You were meant to be from the start. It might not have been a fairytale story, there were definite bumps in the road, but you’d have it no other way. But from your current spot on the floor in your spacious walk-in closet, you were cursing the man you’d entered into matrimony with.

The night before had been your annual Christmas party. The holiday was a favorite of yours and the party was a staple amongst your social circle. It had become a party described by many as “the event of the season”. You always went all out and Negan encouraged you. He knew how much it meant to you, which is why he always made an effort to put work aside and be there in support.

That did not happen last night.

The night had been running smoothly. The drinks were being poured, the food was being eaten. The music was echoing off the well-decorated walls. Your expansive home was quickly becoming filled with guests. It was perfect.

Until Negan received a call on his cell phone.

You knew he’d have to go. You knew there was no amount of begging or pouting you could do. Negan ran his own company. He was constantly busy, which had become a point of contention as of late. The man worked 364 days a year. He was a workhorse. And while that was admirable, you were ready to start having more of your husband to yourself. You’d expressed that sentiment to him recently and he’d made a conscious effort to try, but this night was not a night you felt like being forgiving.

“Doll?”

You were pulled from your thoughts by your husband’s voice calling you. Before you could reply, his figure appeared in the doorway. He was all black leather and denim. His hair was slicked back, his facial hair neatly trimmed. He was grinning at you, dark eyes managing to entrap you from across the room.

He looked devastatingly handsome.

Son of a bitch.

“Why’re you sitting on the floor?” He eyed your bare legs stretched out in front of you, the hem of your dress sitting high on your thighs.

You probably did look odd sitting in your closet in full dress and heels. You’d been getting ready to head out for lunch with the ladies when you’d taken a detour. You’d spotted the trinket box you kept near your shoes and decided to go through it, memories washing over you like rain. You’d been so wrapped up in them that you hadn’t even heard Negan come home.

“Can’t I sit on the floor in my closet?” You countered somewhat rudely. You’d barely seen him all morning, but you’d been sure to make your mood noticeable when you did cross paths. Negan caught on, but had yet to comment.

“You can do whatever the fuck you’d like in your closet, my dear.” He goaded, that intoxicating smirk now adorning his lips.

“So sweet of you to give me permission.” The defiance was alive and well, and you could tell Negan was enjoying it far too much.

He chuckled, rubbing at his beard growth. “You’re still mad about last night?”

You moved the photos back into their box and set it aside, freeing up your lap. You crossed your arms, staring up at him with your own wicked smile.

“Oh no, I’m not mad. Not anymore at least.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope.” You popped the “P” for emphasis.

He started to move closer into the room, brow raised in doubt. “Well, you still seem pissed.”

You decided to stay silent, see if Negan dug his own grave. He would no doubt. You knew the man better than he knew himself.

“You need Daddy to make it up to you?” He said lowly, eyes bright with that predatory gaze he wore so well.

You shook your head and laughed, though there was no humor behind it. “Oh no. No, Daddy doesn’t get to make anything up to me. In fact, Daddy doesn’t even get to touch me. Not for a long time.”

Your words and tone made him stop in place near your legs, your ankles crossed to hide your modesty. His features turned dark at your words, the mischief gone from his eyes. He suddenly didn’t find your mood so funny.

“What do you mean?”

“Just what I said.”

“Look…I said I was sorry, doll. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Negan said softly, the desperation in his voice apparent.

Your shrugged. “I know. Doesn’t mean Daddy doesn’t get punished.”

He went to protest, but you stopped him.

“It’s gonna be nothing but short skirts around the house.” You pulled your legs up, enjoying the way his eyes stalked your body.

“And you know something else Daddy?” You didn’t wait for a response, continuing to relentlessly tease your husband. “I am just so sick and tired of wearing panties.” You whined with an exaggerated sigh and roll of your eyes.

“Really?” He grunted, face impassive. His body was taut with tension already. His breathing had started to accelerate, his arousal mixing with his irritation. You knew the reaction well.

“Yeah. In fact,” You brought your knees up as you leaned back on your hands, your gaze luring him in like a shark to blood. “I’ve decided to throw them all away.” You emphasized your statement by spreading your legs, exposing your bare self to him.

Negan’s reaction was instantaneous. He fell to his knees in front of you, eyes glued to his favorite spot to worship. You could visibly see the effect your words had on him, the want and desire already spewing from his pores at just the thought of being prohibited from touching you.

“So take a good look, Daddy. You’re gonna be seeing an awful lot of this around the house.” You added with a smirk, enjoying the way his face crumbled.

He went to crawl towards you, but you shot a heeled foot out, catching him on his forehead. You gently pushed him back and away from the place he wanted to get to the most.

“But no touching.” You demanded, keeping him at bay with your outstretched leg.

“Fuck…” He cursed, clearly under distress from being denied. He let his face fall into the carpet, his muted protests filling the room.

“What’s wrong Daddy?” You teased with a faux pout.

Negan looked up, a strand of misplaced hair now in his face. He licked his lips, eyes flitting to your exposed pussy. The action made your walls flutter.

“Come on, baby. Lemme make it up to you. Let Daddy make you feel good.” He practically pleaded, long fingers now trying to wrap around your ankle.

You went to pull away, but he charged forward, splitting your legs open wider to make room for his hulking form. He took an exaggerated breath in, inhaling your scent. His eyes were closed, as if you were the best thing he smelled since apple pie.

“Goddamn I want you…” He said against your now throbbing pussy, lips and beard grazing your sensitive skin.

“I said no touching.” You repeated, hoping to gain control of the situation again. His nearness was throwing you off, his barely there touches affecting you more than you’d like.

He laughed, somehow finding your protest humorous. The action made you angry, not pleased that he wasn’t taking you seriously. You decided to use another tactic, something just as torturous, but pleasurable for you.

You stopped him from going any further by poking him in the cheek with your finger, gaining his attention. He was grinning up at you, feeling as if he’d made you crack. He did not.

“I want Daddy to use his mouth. And only his mouth. No hands.” You demanded, face impassive and tone cold.

Negan’s eyes shifted again, his jovial mood disappearing at your words. He didn’t make a joke or snide remark. He simply licked his lips again and nodded, accepting the challenge.

“Alright, doll. Whatever you say.”

He maneuvered his body so that he was propped on his elbows. The position of his body kept him from using his hands on you, something the man loved to do. Negan loved to use every single goddamn sense when fucking. He loved touching, tasting, smelling, and hearing the various aspects of sex…he loved to be consumed by it. He always gave himself over completely. The loss of his hands would kill him, you knew it.

You watched as he moved in slowly, taking his time. He was attempting to tease you in revenge. You smirked at his stubbornness, but shook your head at the powerplay. You were the one calling the shots and you were going to make sure he understood that.

“Don’t dawdle.” You ordered, the sternness in your voice making his grin widen.

He relented and without warning licked his tongue fully along your swollen lips. You jumped at the sensation, fingernails instinctually finding their way into his thick hair. He buried his face into your folds, his nose nudging your clit. His tongue sought you out immediately, tasting your flavor as he massaged your walls. You could see the enthusiasm behind his actions, his eagerness to make you forgive him almost comical. He may be unbelievable in bed, but he wasn’t about to think he’d made you surrender.

You pushed his face into you, throwing your head back and moaning when he sucked at your swollen clit. His tongue was trying to penetrate deeper, but without the use of his hands, he couldn’t gain purchase.

“Fuck, I gotta touch you. Lemme touch you, baby.” He practically begged, chest rising and falling in quick pants. His hair was mused from your hold, his facial hair and face soaked with your essence. He licked his lips, savoring the taste of you.

“On your back.” You demanded softly.

The pulsing between your thighs was getting worse, the role reversal between you and Negan making you wetter than you’d ever remembered being. Negan was a natural take-charge kind of guy. That attribute carried itself into the bedroom, not that you complained. You loved being dominated by your husband. But there was something about seeing him desperate and near delirious for you that made this so much better.

Negan didn’t question your words. He did as you said, lying back on the beige carpet. You shifted to your knees above him, eyes taking in the impressive bulge beneath his jeans. Your pink nails danced along his erection, making the flesh visibly twitch. He hissed at the action, his hands forming fist at his sides. You smiled at his effort to obey you.

“Looks like Daddy wants me. Bad.” You grasped his cock, rubbing the appendage slowly but with pressure. The gesture made Negan’s hips jump off the floor and into your hand, his head thrown back in barely tamed desire.

“Fucking shit, doll…” He growled as you straddled him and rubbed yourself against him. The friction made you whimper, the movement almost enough to make you cum.

You felt his hands on your thighs and you swatted them away, glaring down at him. “No touching, Daddy. That’s the rule.”

The vein in his neck was pulsing, his forehead beading with sweat. You picked up your pace, dry humping his clothed cock with lustful anger. You dug your nails into his chest, pleased at the grunt of pain he made in response. You could feel the fabric of his pants become damp with your juices, the clothing most definitely ruined. Then notion only fueled you, knowing that was at least what Negan deserved for the night before.

You used him for your pleasure, rolling your hips faster as that crescendo intensified. You could feel Negan’s eyes on you, but you were too busy with chasing your own end to notice. You threw your head back as a sudden jolt overtook your body, your limbs tensing as you shook with overflowing desire. You felt Negan thrust his hips up to meet yours, his orgasm close but not yet upon him.

“Doll, I gotta cum inside you.” He groaned, body stiff beneath your now pliable form.

You recovered from your orgasm and slide up his body, capturing his lips in a sloppy kiss. You could taste remnants of yourself on him, the mixed flavors of you and him making you hungry for more. Your lips moved to his neck and ear, leaving bruises behind as you marked him.

“Are you sorry, Daddy?” You breathed against his neck, feeling him shiver in response. His fingers were digging into the carpet, his threshold lowering against your repeated torture.

“Fuck, yes…I am. I’m fucking sorry, baby.”

You placed a wet kiss to his neck as your hands moved to his belt buckle. He moaned in relief as you undid his pants and pulled him free. He was a deep shade of red, the flesh hot and solid. He pulsed in your hand, cum dotting the tip eagerly. You swiped it away with your thumb and used it to ease up and down his cock. His hips met your hands, trying and failing to encourage you to move faster. You enjoyed seeing him suffer far too much.

“What does Daddy need?”

You situated yourself so that your bare pussy was level with his cock again. You moved against him, flesh sliding against each other. Negan reacted instantly and gripped your thighs as he threw his head back. You decided to let that indiscretion go.

“You. I need you.” He hissed, fingers digging into your flesh.

His thickness nudged your sensitive clit and you jerked away from it at first. You worked slowly, pushing Negan’s limits and your own. You smeared yourself all over his cock and his balls, never quite taking him in. His hips were trying to angle in such a way so that he could enter you, but you stopped him every time.

At what felt like the hundredth pass of him outside your opening, you slipped him inside of you. He slid in easily, both of you soaked from your arousal. He forced you to shift your hips so that he could fully enter you, his size always needing accommodation. You both released gasps and moans as you moved atop him, using his chest to keep your balance. His hands moved to your ass and pushed against you, urging you to increase your pace. You stopped moving altogether when he did that.

“Keep going.” He said between ragged breaths, dark eyes daring you to stop.

“Don’t get impatient, Daddy.” You began to move again as his hold loosened. You moved your hips in an up and down motion rather than rotating, feeling his cock banging deliciously against your cervix. He slipped out of you as you sped up, the slickness coating you both now obvious and obscene. You hurriedly slip him back inside you, the teasing now ceased.

“Fuck, right there doll.” He praised, neck now craned so that he can see you taking his cock. You give yourself over to the sensations, your game momentarily ended as a result.

Negan’s hips were meeting yours and you let loose a litany of moans as the dam burst, your body taking hold of him and spasming. He clenched his jaw and gripped your ass as he came with you, holding you to him. Your seizing body caught his spendings, your insides feeling immediate warmth as he coated your walls.

“Jesus Christ,” You panted, your heavily beating heart finally starting to slow. You collapsed on his chest, his softening cock still encased within you.

“Yeah, that’s one way to put it.” Negan chuckled, his hands caressing your back.

You rose and fell with the motions of his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Your eyes started to feel heavy, but you fought the pull of sleep.

“We actually need to talk about this, Negan.” You whispered, feeling him stiffen slightly.

He sighed, arms embracing you. “I know, doll. I’m working on it for you. I promise.”

The baritone in his voice made you feel warm and tingly, reminding you of those nostalgic thoughts you’d been swimming in when he’d found you in the closet. Even though he’d promised such things before, you believed him.

“I love you, doll.” His lips rested against your hair, his hands still stroking a comfortingly pattern along your back. You smiled at his words, unable to not react.

“I love you too. Daddy.” You teased, enjoying the way his chest shook beneath you with laughter.

“Does that mean I’m forgiven?” He asked hopefully, hands wandering back down to your ass.

“Not a chance.”

#negan #negan x reader #negan x you #twd negan #the walking dead negan #negan the walking dead #negan fanfiction #negan fic #negan twd

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stevenuniversetanzanite · 4 years

Text

Someone Must Get Hurt (Cordelia x Reader (Part 5))

This is set during around and through coven so she’s still Cordelia Foxx technically.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Sorry for the late update, joined an academy (unfortunately not for witches) and had to wait until I got my glasses also writer’s block.

I re-read the other chapters and I genuinely enjoyed (which is rare for my self-conscious arse). Hope I didn’t screw that up with this addition. Probably did.

Anyway, enjoy :).

Y/N/N= Your nickname

Y/M/N= Your mum’s name. (I didn’t want to pick your characters mum’s name.)

The air was tense in the academy, every student was stressing about who was the next supreme. One student, Nan had drowned in a bathtub. Zoe tried to communicate with her spirit but had no luck, the girl didn’t want to talk. We all had our suspicions of what happened and all of them involved Fiona. Cordelia was the only one who was doubtful, but you all knew she was just hoping her mother wasn’t as bad as you all knew her to be. For Cordelia’s sake, you wished it wasn't her. Who knows, maybe a witch hunter broke in and… drowned her? Nah, that sounds wrong. Why go to all the trouble of breaking in and then drown a girl? Nan was more than powerful enough to fight off a non-magic user.

Madison’s inflated ego made her believe she was the next supreme. No one directly said it to her, but you all hoped she wasn’t- none of you wanted another Fiona. Madison’s jelousy over the title made her commit attempted murder, smashing Misty in the head with a large rock and burring her six feet under in a resurract man’s casket.

Fiona was showing Misty with gifts, mainly meeting her favourite singer Stevie Nicks. It was nice to see Misty awe-stricken by the famous singer plus you got to listen to Stevie live for free. After how much of her music you’ve had to listen to since Misty arrived, it was great to relax to some great vocals. The other girls were out doing whatever they wanted. Cordelia was trying to get you closer to the girls (when was she not?) and tasked you with getting along with Misty who you, in Cordelia’s eyes, had the most in common with.

Your mind kept falling back to the contant theme of the recent days, the next supreme. Everyone was infatuated with knowing, “maybe it's me?”, “I could be the supreme”, you just wanted to go with the flow. Everyone was stressing you out and you didn’t need that at the moment. They were acting like it was a competition, that the goal of these being a witch was to be the supreme. You wondered if the thing was a generational thing, like every 20 or so years there’s a new one is born or is it random. If you knew this, you could use to predict how old the witch would have to be. Was she about your age or like Cordelia’s? Is it even one of us? There could be a witch we don’t know of out there who is the successor. You didn’t vocalize any of this or participated in any of the drama created because of the mystery involved behind who the next one was. You couldn’t care less.

While the other girls practiced their magic, you tried to make something to heal the burned skin around your eyes. Misty offered you some of her ‘magical’ mud, but you wanted nothing to do with it or her. She was a nice girl but her friendship with Cordelia put you off her. They were too close; you didn’t trust their friendship. Your interest in finding something to fix your burns along with you love of botany lead you to starting your newest distraction from your crush on the headmistress.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Your pen hit against the workbench. Music blared through your headphones. You had spent the last three hours in the green house trying to perfect a potion, making notes in a hand bound book. It was a side project to distract yourself from the over growing jealousy you felt. On the other side of the room, the two other green magic enthusiasts insisted on working. You hadn’t been invited to join them, they thought you looked too busy on your book. Cordelia stole glances every so often, you weren’t aware of this.

Stevie Nicks' "Kind Of Woman" played in the background as the two blonde witches worked on their concoction. Cordelia hummed along with the music. She picked some bay leaves, tearing them into smaller pieces as she shoved it in their mud. She was teaching the young swamp witch.

The two spoke in hushed whispers. Cordelia didn’t want to disturb you as you worked. The two almost didn’t come in there, but there being very little to do in the school and you already absorbed in your work you didn’t think their presence would disturb you. You switched your music from the speaker to your phone, to ensure their talking didn’t disturb you. During the breaks of your songs, you could hear their voices as Cordelia taught the young swamp witch like she had taught you months ago.

“I didn't know bay leaves had magic in them.”

“Provide protection. Asafetida banishes evil.”

Misty leant down to smell the concoxion, “Oh, wow, that's some stinky shit.”

You could hear their laughing during the switching of tracks. You groaned. They took that as you were frustrated with your work – they weren’t internally wrong but the cackling from behind you wasn’t helping either. Cordelia frowned, not enjoying watching you stress out you’re your project. She considered offering you to join them to distract you for a bit, but something held her back.

Misty leaned in towards Cordelia, "Zoe told me what you two overheard."

"W-what?" Cordelia stuttered, growing flustered. Cordelia didn’t know what to do with her hands. Instead of waving them about like an idiot, they clenched the workbench, leaning her body weight on them. She couldn’t run from this conversation; it would be too obvious. Why couldn’t it all be easier like how it was before she got blinded. Your first ‘unofficial lesson’. The ease of moving closer to your person, how easily flustered you were (like how she was now). She insisted she needed to know about the student who refused to open herself up to others. She missed the conversations you’d both have as you peeled back the protective layer.

You were too caring; she saw that when you ‘helped’ her. You did what you thought was best, for her, you, and the coven. She felt in those few seconds your hands were on her temples, the love you had for her as well as the pain love has caused you in the past.

She saw the late nights when you stayed up contemplating your decision, the countless hours you thought about others instead of yourself which counted up to years of your life. An underlying need for control, of you, your body as well as your wants and desires. You held yourself back and now she was doing it for you because she was too indissertive and disgusted with everything about the situation she caught herself in.

She was scared, she only built to that pain. She didn’t have enough time to stop you and, in an attempt to do so, she tossed you across the room when you had already been affected. You couldn’t have foreseen that.

Cordelia liked you back, that’s the problem. She was your teacher. It’s the same as having a crush on your professor. She made you fall for her. Ignoring all that, she was still married. She had no knowledge that her ex had cheated. What if he hadn’t, what if he was a decent person? What if-

“Ms Cordelia.”

“Hmm~”

"That she likes you Ms Cordelia."

"It doesn't mean anything-" All she could do was deny. It wasn’t right, what she did was wrong.

"I know it's not my place, but you've been talking about her for ages and you haven't asked her once."

She looked at Misty, “Your right. This isn’t your place.” Cordelia rushed out of the greenhouse and back into the school.

Misty sighed and looked over to you who was too busy working to pay attention to them. Misty knew she would have to get involved if you too were ever going to get together. She couldn’t do it alone. She had to call in for help.

Four of the girls were huddled up in the main room, all wanting to fix the dynamic between the two of you. Each one had tried in their own way to help you out. Madison with her constant babbling about person a (usually making at least one sexual reference) to person b as well as getting you to admit your feelings in the worst place. The others worked more in the way of emotional support for Cordelia (you got along with the others but weren’t one to confide in them) and trying to convince her to make a move.

One’s idea was to stage an intervention for Cordelia, as you had stated your love for her in her presence and it was just Cordelia holding back. Another suggested if they got both of you in the same room, you’d talk it out, that wasn’t going to happen. They could set up a date and trick you both into going.

“The date idea doesn’t sound that bad,” Zoe said. “But how would we do it?”

“We’d need to make so neither can leave,” Queenie said.

“Yeah, Ms Cordelia stormed out the other day when I was trying to talk her into it,” Misty said while eating grapes.

“-and Y/N can teleport, so you’d be relying on not to zap away.” You were the type to teleport away if you were uncomfortable, but with Cordelia in the equation no one could know.

“Okay, what do we need to do to make it the perfect date?” Zoe asked. Retrieving a pen and paper out like it was a middle school project.

“Say no more,” Madison said.

“No one let Madison get the pen.”

“Hey!”

An hour later Cordelia walked in on the girls plotting the date. She raised a brow at all the girls working harmoniously together. The group's laughter was what brought her out of her office originally. She smiled standing in the doorway. Her grin faltered when she noticed you weren’t with the girls. She worried at times like these when she saw the others getting along and you depriving yourself from times like this.

She brought herself to where she thought you would be, she was your teacher after all, she should be concerned that you were missing out.

She knocked

“Shit, you scared me.”

“I think you’ve said those words to me before,” she purred.

“Miss Foxx?” Not Delia or Cordelia. No, she couldn’t stand you saying that. It was too formal and distant. It reminded her too much of her husband, someone she never wanted to think about again. She wanted the closeness you both once had. She craved you to call her a nickname. She will call you a million if she could hear you say one. She’d give anything to hear you say Delia more time.

“You don’t have to call me that.” She kept the same flirtatious tone as before, sending shivers down your spine. She gently nudged you to the side. You scooted over giving her enough room to sit beside you.

It felt like Déjà vu. Her sitting next to you, working in the greenhouse just like the day you injured your arm. The limb was now healed. The coven’s knowledge of your past didn’t stop you from where clothes not appropriate for the weather. The only time you didn’t cover yourself fully was when you were spending most of your days trapped in your room blind. Cordelia made sure you were never overheating due to your stubbornness as well as self-consciousness.

“How’s your book going?” It was hard to concentrate. She was so close to you.

“Alright.” It was killing you but not as much as watching her with Misty.

“You seemed stressed earlier.”

“I did?”

“You did,” she said. “I think you deserve a break. You’ve been working on this for a while now.”

“I don’t know-” You didn’t know what game she was playing.

“Come one sweetheart-”

“No!” You brushed her off you. You jumped off your crate turned seat creating some distance between you and her. “None of this.”

“I thought-”

“No. I don’t like to be toyed with. You can’t play off you didn’t hear what you heard as if nothing happened and then weeks later come up to me all flirtatiously and expect me to be okay with that.” You clenched your fists trying to hold back your anger. “You either like me or you don’t. Tell me now so I can move on with my life.”

“Y/N I-”

“You know what, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Y/N-”

“Please go.” You wouldn’t look at her. Your head faced the exit, your hands crossed. The moment she left they would slide out of position and hug your body as you sobbed.

“No! I like you Y/N. Hell, I love you more than I ever did with my ex. I’m not letting you toss me aside.”

“Miss Fo-”

“Don’t call me that! Ever!” You shut your mouth quick, eyes widened. She approached you, tearing your arms out of their tightly crossed position. She held your hands in her’s. “I-I didn’t mean to yell, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t mean to either, I was just-”

“I get it. With the weight of the world resting on our shoulders, it’s hard not to snap sometimes.”

“Everything will get better, yeah? Once we find out who the next supreme is?”

“For our survival, I hope so.” Not the answer you wanted to hear but she wasn’t going to hide the truth from you, not at a time like this.

You don’t know what caused you to do it but you pulled her into a hug, “I wish you could be the supreme.” Cordelia chuckled. “Your so wise compared to us and you’re the nicest, most caring-”

“It’s nice of you to say that but it’s not me.”

“Still, it would be nice to be dating the most powerful witch in the coven.”

“So you still want to date me?” You hummed resting your head on her shoulder and nuzzling into her neck. “It could be you?”

“Hmm?”

“You could be the supreme.”

“I hope not. Sounds like too much responsibility… and socialising.” Cordelia chuckled once more.

The woman held you close. Time stood still for the two of you. For once, it was calm. You were content standing their bodies pressed together as the world moved on around you. Nothing mattered. The coven’s problems were for another time.

***

Everything happened so fast. You were talking to Queenie, trying to convince her to stay, unlike Cordelia, she didn't tell you to get out. She warned you to run, get out before whoever killed the girls to you. One girl dead, another missing, someone was going to be next, it only depended on who. She wasn't sticking around to get killed to find out.

The next you were in the greenhouse being held back. They wouldn't let you see Cordelia. The girls were forced to keep tabs on you, not letting you out of their sight. No one bothered to tell you what happened. You knew that something horrible happened and needed to help.

"I need to go to the bathroom," you told the girls. They nodded, leading you to the nearest moment. You were told to be quick. You meekly nodded before shutting yourself in. The moment the door was shut you teleported into Cordelia's bedroom.

"Oh god." She stabbed her eyes out. "No~ why?"

She rested on the bed doped up on painkillers to numb the pain. You could have sworn she looked peacefully asleep. It wasn’t the case. Red, inflamed skin sounding her eye sockets. You put two with two together. Gouging out her eyes wouldn’t solve anything.

The floorboards creaked from behind you. Myrtle wasn’t sure how you got into the room, she was monitoring it and the girls were watching over you. From what she knew, you couldn’t teleport. It wouldn’t surprise her if you could, all the girls in the coven were picking up magic easier. Power’s develop faster in times of danger.

There wasn’t much you could do for her. You weren’t going to make the same ‘mistake’ as last time, no matter how much you wanted to. If Myrtle didn’t come in, you might not have said the same. The both of you talked, you rarely spoke to her one on one- that does with everyone else in the coven, minus Cordelia and Zoe. Fiona tried to speak to you once, to shove in the same your the next supreme crap you bet. Cordelia saved you before you had to talk to the woman. Fiona did say after you helped that boy find his mother that, “She knows more than she lets on.” She couldn’t have been suggesting you were the next... no. That woman was a trickster and shouldn’t be trusted.

“I purchased tickets to Epcot for Zoe and Kyle. I watched them together at Nan's funeral. Such a pair. So much in love,” Myrtle said.

“They are quite the pair.” You understood why she was telling you this, it was the same reason as to why Queenie left, no one was safe. If Madison didn’t kill them out of jealousy than Fiona would. “What will happen with me and Madison?” Madison didn’t see you as a threat. You wouldn’t bet your life on it staying that way.

“Your mother will be picking you up later today.”

“What?”

“It’s only until all of this is sorted out. Think about it as a holiday from school.”

“What about Cordelia?”

“She’d prefer you to be out of harm’s way.”

“It’s only temporary?” Myrtle nodded.

You wished she was lying. But when you heard your mother’s voice echo upstairs you sighed backing the last of your things. You stood at the top of the stairs with a backpack packed with your essentials. Your mum and Myrtle were deep in a conversation, not noticing you watching them. You didn’t want to leave Cordelia again. This time it wasn’t your choice. You left your details on Cordleia’s desk in case she needed to contact you. The only problem with that was her finding it since she was blind and wouldn’t see it. That wasn’t a problem you could solve this second, you had the schools number, that was good enough for now.

You checked on Cordelia one last time before you left. She was fast asleep. You didn’t want to be around when Myrtle broke the news to her. Keeping it short, you placed a kiss on her forehead before heading to your mother.

“I can’t believe she did that, I never would have thought- you were right the whole time,” your mum tried to grasp what Myrtle told her. You missed the change of subject of conversation when you were with Cordelia.

“You were too young at the time.”

“Anna leigh?” Myrtle nodded. You had no idea what the two were talking about, who was Anna Leigh? Your mother was the first to spot you, “Don’t you want to bring more?”

You shook your head, “I don’t plan on being gone long.” The two older women shared a look of displeasure. They both wanted you away from the school longer than they were letting on.

“I’ll keep an eye on her until the dangers are dealt with. It’ll be a good chance to catch up.”

“Sounds fun,” you said in an uneathustic voice.

“Just us two.” You rose your brow. No siblings? What's the catch?

“Yeah, that sounds alright.”

***

You were perched up against the window, peering out into the streets of wherever your mum took you. The journey was long and you fell asleep in the car ride over. Since she arrived at the academy you sensed something was off with her. She viewed you differently. Hidden by her happy exterior masked her unease. She handed you a hot cocoa before planting herself beside. You shuffled to allow her more room.

She asked you a series of questions about school and how you were enjoying it. You answered vaguely, not wanting to go into the full extent of what was going down.

“There’s a lot less girls from when I went there,” she commented. She was a witch? She never mentioned this before. If you would have known, you might not have felt so alone. “It was a lot safer too. I guess there’s no safe place for us witches.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a witch?”

“We weren’t going to tell you kids. We didn’t want to put you in danger. I never thought about the complications of not telling you. Myrtle told me what you did- what you have been doing. I allowed myself to be naive.”

“Mum it’s alright-”

“No it's not,. There was more she wanted to say but left it unsaid. “I can’t fix the past but I promise to be better.” You took a long sip of your beverage, making a noise of contentment. “Still good?”

“I missed your cocoa.” You mum acted offended. “I missed you too.” You both laughed before taking another sip of your drinks. “The headmistress of the school makes great cocoa too.”

“Goode’s kid, right?” She asked. “I heard she was nice.”

“Yeah, she is. She’s taught me a lot about Botany. I’ve been translating a couple of the old books in the greenhouse so they are easier to follow.”

“Those old things. They’ve been there since the beginning of time.” She said. “I’m pretty sure my sister started something similar, it’s probably still there unless one of her roommates moved it.” Your mother rarey spoke of her sister, you didn’t even know your Aunt’s name. She snapped out her train of thought. She asked, “What about the other girls? Are they nice?”

“They’re an interesting bunch to say the least.”

Back at the academy, Cordelia gradually got better. Myrtle informed her of your little get-a-way and that you were safely with a trustworthy family member. Cordelia was doubtful of what she heard but Myrtle assured her that as long as you're here, you weren’t safe. Not only were there the threats of Madison and her mother, Cordelia herself in her blinded state was a risk.

Queenie decided to stay in the coven. Fiona went so far as to claim Queenie as her successor and was going to make her complete the seven wonders. This pissed of Cordelia. Fiona wouldn’t explain her reasoning behind her decision, fleeing shortly after.

All the witches admired the new portrait of Fiona Goode above the piano. The girls listed off empty compliments (“She was so beautiful.”, “She was a great Supreme.”, “A lot to live up to.”, “One of the best.”). Cordelia didn’t follow this trend, instead opting to keep it true, “She was a force to be reckoned with, but she was a horrible Supreme.” Mentioning all the ways she had failed at the rule. She used this time to announce that on the coming Sunday, at dawn the test of Seven Wonders will begin and all would be tested. By next week, they’ll have a new Supreme.

There was a thud at the door. Cordelia smiled. Everyone looked around wondering who that could be. “Is someone gonna let me in or am I gonna have to break in?” All the girls chuckled. Zoe ran over towards the front door, Misty and Queenie not far behind. As soon as the door was opened you were pulled into a suffocating hug. “Y/N!” Zoe was most excited to see you. “Girl, where did you go?” Queenie asked. Clearly none of them were clued into your departure.

“You weren’t meant to be back until all of this was solved,” Myrtle said.

“I was called.”

***

There should have been more to do. Your thoughts always feel back to the coven. You held yourself back from calling, they sent you away for a reason. Any contact could bring danger. You curled up on your temporary bed, a classic novel in your hands. It was still the early hours of the morning, your mother asleep in her bedroom. You could hear her snoring through the walls. One of the million things you didn’t miss from home. Even your old roommate snored. You smiled thinking about the few years of freedom you had at hers. Compared to now you wouldn’t call it that. Now you could do whatever you wanted when you wanted to, whether the others were happy about it depended on what you were doing. You still freaked Cordelia out when you leave the school without letting anyone know, or vanish for hours on end in a remote area of the house you don’t usually inhabit. You would do anything to hear her voice right now.

You spoke to your mum about Cordelia, never mentioning that you were a thing, she was still your teacher after all. She would wince when you mentioned the name which always threw you for a loop. You knew it wasn’t about you mentioning Cordelia because when you did without saying the name she was fine. It’s probably nothing to worry about.

Your phone buzzed. A phone you recognized all too well was calling you.

***

“I did say everyone participates,” Cordelia said.

You were passed from person to person, giving the girls hugs. “I hope I didn’t miss it too much.” You pulled away from the last girl and headed over to your girlfriend.

“Delia.”

“Y/N/N,” Cordelia said. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too.”

“Wow, you two really can’t control yourselves,” Madison said sarcastically.

“Shut up Madison.”

You had a couple days to kill until the tests. You spent your first day catching up with Cordelia. You shared what happened during the days you were gone. You went into detail about the place you stayed at, the food you ate and your catch up with your mum.

“You didn’t know your mother was a witch?”

“Yeah, she thought it was dangerous for us to know. I guess she’s right. All the stuff I’ve seen in this past year is-”

“Too much?”

“No~ well yeah but… I never would have dreamt this was going to be my life,” You said. “I’m glad I came here. Met you. Who knows where I would be if I never joined this school?”

“I’m glad you did.” You snuggled closer to Cordelia, her arms wrapped protectively around you.

The second day you spent on working on your book in the greenhouse. Your work was going nowhere so you decided to take a break. ‘I’m pretty sure my sister started something similar, it’s probably still there unless one of her roommates moved it,’ your mother's words popped back into her head. It couldn’t be here, could it? Where would I be if I was a book?

You scowered the whole school searching for that damn thing. Where do they keep old things? The garage. On your first week at the school they forced you to organise the garage because they were too lazy to hire someone else to do it. It was just as you remembered it minus the fresh layer of dust that coated everything besides the van. A dodgy industrial bookcase filled with ancient books. When you put them there last year, you had flipped through a few of them. Most were photobooks of years prior. There were so many girls back then. If you knew what years your mum attended you could have looked.

You spent hours filling through the books getting sidetrack from your original goal.

“Y/N cant be allowed to participate-”

“She has every chance to be the next supreme as the others do. We can’t skip someone in case we are wrong.”

“All the more reason to skip her. There is no way she’s the next-”

“-There is nothing to discuss.” Cordelia stood up and began to leave to check on the girls.

“Cordelia~”

Cordelia made it all the way to Madison and Zoe’s room, were you were all crowded around your finds. All the girls were cackling and commenting on the photos as you flipped through them.

“I can’t believe that's what she used to look like. Has that woman ever looked bad a day in her life?” Madison said.

“I think it’s impossible,” Zoe said. “”Like the world might implode or something.”

“Girls?”

“What do you want Cordy?” Madison said. “Hey Y/N/N, your girlfriends here.” Madison summoned your attention from the conversation you were having with Misty and Queenie.

“Delia!”

“What are you girls doing?” Cordelia chuckled at your excitement. She was glad that you were getting along with the other girls. She was proud at how far you had come.

“Y/N found some old photo albums and there's a bunch of old photos of Fiona and Myrtle. We even found an old album with some of you.”

“Oh god you found those things. For once I’m thankful I’m blind.”

“What are you talking about? You're adorable,” you said.

“You're just saying that because she’s your girlfriend.”

“Shut up.”

“Have you looked for your mother in them yet?” Cordelia asked.

“Wait your mother went here?”

“Apparently.”

“Okay, I suggest a game. First person to find her mum makes the worst concoction that the rest have to do a shot of.” They all go in on the game. “Y/N, can’t play so you can be the judge.” Sounded good by you.

They kept guessing people from random albums that visually resembled you. The game got called off by the call for dinner. You were all cracking up all through the meal. Anyone who didn’t know any of you would have guessed nothing was wrong underneath this roof. All of you but aside your differences for one night and managed to prove that you could get along if you tried.

As you were putting the albums away you found a brown leather bound journal hidden behind a box of assorted junk. You flipped it open to the first page, ‘This book belongs to Cordelia-’ The last name was covered in pen ink. Why would Cordelia leave a notebook hidden all the way back here? It was left with a bunch of old albums, maybe it was an old diary or something. In that case, its better to leave it where you found it.

You met Cordelia upstairs in her bedroom. You’d been helping her get ready for the night ever since you got back. The night before she came to your room and asked for your help as you were about to get ready for bed. You ended up spending the night in her room.

***

Myrtle seemed hesitant upon commencing the seven wonders. She kept eyeing you during the ‘last supper’ before the new supreme was crowned. For all you knew it could have been your last, you’d all been warned that one of the spells could lead to death if failed. This made Misty very worried. She didn’t want to participate in the whole sabang. To be fair, neither did you but there weren't many witches to replace Fiona.

Five witches with different specialties all competing for the reigning title of head of the Coven.

The two eldest members barely spoke directly to each other throughout the duration of the meal. Misty spent most of her time talking to Cordelia making you slightly jealous. Knowing you were being irrational, you decided to turn away from them and pay attention to Madison raving on about how much she had got this in the bag.

Cordelia explained that it is unprecedented for five candidates to attempt the Seven Wonders without sponsorship by the outgoing Supreme but desperate times call for desperate measures.

The tests started out easy. First was telekinesis. Kyle lit five candles for the girls. Why you couldn’t light them yourselves was beyond you, it would have gotten rid of a test. All the girls move the candles towards themselves in turn, Misty had the most difficulty with the task but bubbled with excitement on completion while Zoe barely took a second to move the candle.

Next was Concilium. The girls turned on each other without a second thought. Misty made Queenie slap herself, Queenie makes Misty pull her own hair in retaliation. Madison goes overboard making Kyle do a series of tasks ending up with Kyle choking Zoe. You freak seeing Zoe getting choked. You fought for control over Kyle’s mind, controlling for him to stop. “Why isn’t he- oww” Madison complained before Zoe made her burn herself on her cigarette.

Cordelia declared enough. The girls complained -mostly Madison- you had yet to do something. You didn’t know what to make someone do, your mind was blank. You had some ideas of things you wouldn’t mind making your girlfriend do but not in front of the others. None of them were pg. You wouldn’t mind a lap dance or watching her strip (the list continues) but that doesn’t solve the problem of people watching.

“I reversed your ass’s control,” You said to Madison. Madison wasn’t buying it. Zoe mouthed thank you to which you simply nodded.

“Prove you can do it again” "make Cordelia do something."

"She's not a part of the test."

"It's alright, I don't mind."

"I don't want to make you do something, you didn't want to do." Your head darted towards Madison. "But I don't have a problem controlling you."

You made her suffer for all the things she did to all of you over the last couple of weeks. The other girls cheered you on, you were hyperfocus on the task you didn’t stop until a hand was placed on your shoulder snapping out of your concentration.

For the next challenge, all four girls perform the Descensum wonder with a sun-up deadline. You all laid on the ground and chanted the incarnation, “Spiritu duce, in me est. Deduce me in tenebris vita ad extremum, ut salutaret inferi. Descensum!”

You sat there crumpled on the floor. The air felt cold on your damaged skin. You sat exactly where you were before you entered your personal hell. Your cardigan laid near the loveseat. You were left puzzled, where was everyone? Had you completed it and woken up. No one told you anything about this task. Did you fail? The school was a lot darker than you recalled it being. The lights were turned off and not a single candle lit. You waved your hand to create some light but nothing. Odd.

You heard footsteps approaching the room you were situated in. A voice echoed around you but you couldn’t see anyone nor make out their words. A sting sensation filled your left cheek forcing your head sideways.

“Y/n! Are you even listening to me?” An angry cordelia waved her hand in front of your face. “Typical,” she spat. “You couldn’t pay attention in my classes and you can’t now. Maybe if you paid more attention, you could have saved everyone.” ‘Saved everyone’ what was she on about?

You scrambled up, backing away from the blonde who kept proceeding to get closer. Two strong hands grasp you in place, their grip, bruising.

“You were always using your power to heal others and the one time we actually needed it your can’t. You're a pathetic little girl. I don’t know why we allowed you to stay at the coven. I should have kicked you out the moment I saw what you are. A damaged mess. There’s no saving you. You're a curse to this coven. My mother won’t be our downfall, you will be.”

You were left speechless. Frozen in fear. You stared into her hate filled eyes. The angry based heat radiating off her body could scourch you alive. Her nails seeped into your flesh drawing blood.

“I was glad when I was blinded. I wouldn’t have to be forced to see your face day in and day out. There is only so much torture you can put up with. You're a monster. a walking death trap. Your powers aren’t like queenies- hers was useful.”

“ENOUGH!” you shouted at her, ripping her tight grip off of you. “I am more than I appear and stronger than you think. You're not real and even if you were, your words are weightless. They won’t hurt me and you want to know why?” She was taken aback. She didn’t expect you to talk back.

“Why?”

“Because I know all of the things you said, I’ve thought them. I have said a million worse things to myself than that.” You said. “If this was a couple months ago, I would believe you. I really would. A part of me may still believe you but you have no right to talk to me like that. I am better than that and deserve more than you belittling me.”

She chuckled. You were done with this, her abuse. This wasn’t real. You were fine. This couldn’t be real.

“Are we all back?” Zoe asked.

You jolted up, gasping for air. You were the fourth to arrive back. Cordelia treaded carefully as she made her way over to you.

“Everyone but Misty,” Queenie answered Zoe’s question.

Everyone was staring at you. "What?" You stattered. You scrambled to turn around to see who was awake. Misty lay there stuck in her hell, "Shit."

“She’s still got some time,” Zoe assured me, staring at the timer. The hourglass to see time was almost over.

“Not much,” you uttered.

Cordelia felt around for you. The second she was close you teleported away from her touch, appearing next to Zoe. “Sorry,” you apologized, tucking your legs into your chest. Her head darted in the direction of your voice. “I-I didn’t mean to- I’m still shaken up.”

“It’s okay.”

“Misty needs you more than I do right now anyway.” Cordelia only nodded.

“What was your hell?” Zoe whispered. Queenie leant down to listen.

“All my flaws on display. I’d heard worse. It was who was saying them that kept me there.”

Queenie pointed her head towards your girlfriend, you nodded feeling worse for dashing away the moment she got close to you.

Misty was taking too long. "We need to help her" you cried out.

"There's nothing we can do. She has to get back on her own."

"That's bullshit."

Cordelia hunched over the swamp witch’s body, hands on either side of her head, calling out for her to follow her voice. She chanted a spell, anything to wake her friend back up. By dawn, she hadn’t emerged. Her time ran out and with that, her body disintegrates into ash in Cordelia's sobbing arms.

“Her time is up,” Myrtle said.

“No...No, no! No... No!” Cordelia sobbed, occasionally gasping for air. You shared a saddened look with two of your peers (Madison being to heartless took Misty’s death as an inconvenience). “Go to her,” Zoe mouthed. Hesitantly, you closed the distance, pulling her into a hug. She buried her face into your hoodie as she sobbed. You ran your hand over the top of her head.

"We'll give the two a minute before continuing the tests." Myrtle said, ushering the other girls out of the room.

"I killed her, I forced her to do the test when she didn't want to. She wasn't even one of us and I-I"

You shushed her, "It's not your fault sweetheart, no one could have predicted this."

"She didn't deserve to die."

She was too young and too innocent to be trapped in her own personal hell for all eternity. You had nothing against the girl other than her closeness with your now girlfriend, but you would wish for a hell filled death. You wish you could bring her back. Save her from hell. It was too late. All you could do now was comfort her friend and hope nothing happens to anyone one else.

“I had a vision, a terrible vision. None of us made it out alive. What if it was a warning that this was going to happen? That fiona will win. Were going to kill ourselves trying to save the coven. What if it's already-”

“Your mother isn’t going to win. None of us are going to allow that to happen. “

"I don't want you to go on with the tests."

"What? Delia~"

"Not you too. I don't want to lose you too."

"We still need to find the next supreme."

She wished to get changed into an outfit more fitting for a time of morning. Myrtle offered to help Cordelia while you recovered and checked on the other girls. You checked with Cordelia making sure she was alright with that before handing her over.

“You didn’t just want to help me, did you?”

“Not exactly-”

“I don’t want any of the other girls to get hurt.”

“We have no control over this Delia. Your mother refuses to announce her successor.”

“We still have four test’s left. Who do you think it’s going to be?”

“I was so certain about Misty Day.” Myrtle pulled out a black long sleeve dress for Cordelia. “Maybe Zoe. ”

“All the girls are powerful, it could be any one of them. If Madison Montgomery really is all- maybe it is better-'' She didn’t want to finish that thought.

“I'll confess, I've had similar dark thoughts.”

“I know you were admitment on Y/N not competing but why not? She is a very powerful witch. We’ve seen her perform three of the seven wonders and those weren’t the ones in her wheelhouse. She’s a timid girl, it's possible she’s holding out on us.

“Cordelia, there is no way (Y/N) can be the supreme.”

“But why? You're not answering me.”

“The council thought it was better you didn’t know. It’s a story close to home.” Myrtle closed up the dress for Cordelia before leading her to sit on the loveseat in the middle of Cordelia’s bedroom. “I assumed Fiona would have told you-”

“She doesn’t tell me shit.”

“Y/N’s bloodline prevents her from being able to do one of the seven wonders.”

“What are you on about?”

“Y/n’s signature power, to transfer pain, it’s not the first time I’ve seen it. Y/M/N, Y/N’s mother and her sister attended the school. During one of the lessons, Y/M/N got badly injured. Her sister, much like your dear Y/N, tended to rush to try and heal- at least Y/M/N. She didn’t hear about it until break. Y/M/N died and her sister attempted to bring back the child only cursing her with the same fate.”

“Y/N’s not the same-”

“Ask her if you don’t believe me.”

“Y/N can be brought back. She’s died before and my mother brought her back.”

“Giving your life is different to releasing some of someone else's.”

“I don’t want you to lose the love of your life because of a test that only one person can succeed.”

“You think she's the love of my life?”

“She was willing to give you her sight twice.” Twice? Cordelia didn’t remember it happening twice. She worried it would happen again, the others must have stopped you. “Very few people are willing to do that for someone even if they care for someone dearly.”

“We should get back to the others,” Cordelia said. “I’ll stop her from going too far.”

Myrtle led Cordelia back to the others. They reluctantly continue the test. Next was transmutation. Zoe started a game of tag to lighten the mood. Much to your dismay, you were held back by Cordelia. You were confused but didn’t question it. Zoe tagged you. Oh, it's on. You teleported out of Cordelia’s grip and tag Madison. The game of tag progressed on and was moved outside. Cordelia warned you all to be careful. None of you cared. You all needed this. It was a stupid mistake on yours part.

None of you cared until you saw Zoe’s lifeless body dangling from a spike on the cast-iron fence. You helped Kyle ease her body of the spike and transfer her to the greenhouse. Queenie attempted Vitalum Vitalis on Zoe in order to revive her, failing. She was ordered to take the saddened Kyle back to the house. Both Cordelia and Myrtle insist Madison perform Vitalum Vitalis on Zoe next, even though you were more than willing to go next. Madison proves her ability with a fly instead. They don’t accept this and request her to save Zoe or she was not worthy of being the Supreme. She complained, saying why they weren’t trying to get you to have a go since they all knew out of the two, they would prefer you as one. Madison exited angry leaving the three of you alone in the greenhouse with Zoe.

“I’ll clean up her wound a bit for when she gets brought back. It should be easy work assuming she didn’t puncture too many organs,” You said surveying the damage. “I think I have some medical equipment in my bedroom.”

“Can you get her the supplies, I need to talk to Y/N for a moment?” she asked her Auntie. Myrtle agreed as much as she disliked doing mineral work, she knew why she wanted to talk to you. You didn’t like the sound of this ‘talk’ so you made small talk to prolong the inevitable.

“I wanted to be a doctor when I was younger. My mum used to laugh and say I was just like her sister. Sadly, she died before I was born.” You filled your bowl of Luke warm water and brought it to the dead girl. "That's besides the point. I never really found a passion in studying anatomy. I ended up doing it so I could fix myself instead. Don't think a hospital would hire me with all these scars on me, they'd probably assume I self-harmed or something."

"You haven't-"

"God no. Well, maybe in a sense. I didn't need to help others. Everything's complicated."

"I think you should do it. Become a doctor, if you still want to."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe I will. Lets see how this goes first." Myrtle arrived back with your gear. No one knew you had a collection of medical equipment. You stole it from the hospital around the same time Zoe brought back her man. "I need full concentration while doing this."

They allowed you your privacy, promising to check up on you every so often to make sure you didn't need anything and to keep you from doing something stupid. You didn't push yourself to do Vitalum Vitalis. If they wanted Madison to try, so be it. As time went on, the idea came up in your head more frequently. Maybe you should try. Your work was done. The only thing you could do now was wait.

“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it,” Cordelia said. You hadn't noticed there in the room before. Was she always there or did she just enter?

“I think I can bring her back,” you said.

“I don’t doubt you could." But? you thought. Cordelia made her way towards you. She rested a hand on your shoulder, your free hand that wasn't holding Zoe's found hers. You rested your body against Cordelia’s trying to find comfort in the tough time, "but if you do you’ll die.”

What was she one about? There was no way she could know that. You were getting better and even if it wasn’t, no one dies from trying to bring someone back by Descensum. If it was some frankenstein type work involved you could understand, there would be tons of risks, but this? You would be fine.

“My magics getting better, I can give the pain back to people now” you reasoned. You prayed she didn’t ask for an example for that. She didn’t care if your magic was getting better that wasn’t the problem. After what happened to Misty and what Myrtle told her about a girl she knew, Cordelia didn’t want to risk the love of her life’s life. It took her too long to find you, she wasn’t going to lose you now.

"It’s not that you are not strong enough y/n. It’s the fact that if you do it and no one can bring you back if something goes wrong."

"I wouldn’t die-"

"AND IF YOU DO? WHAT THEN?"

"Uh~"

“YOU’RE A WALKING DEATH TRAP. YOUR POWERS AREN’T LIKE QUEENIES WHERE YOU CAN JUST CAUSE SOMEONE PAIN BY THINKING ABOUT THEM AS YOU GET INJURED. YOU’RE’S IS MORE DELICATE. EITHER YOU HURT OR SOMEONE ELSE DOES. YOU DIE OR SOMEONE ELSE DIES. I HATE TO BE THE BEARER OF BAD NEWS BUT THATS HOW YOUR LIFE WORKS.” You froze. You're hell flashed back through your mind. You tried to shake it off but it was glued to your mind.

She stated all the faults in your curse. Her worry made it seem like you shared your burden now. Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. She wanted to protect you from what she can’t control. If you died, she would live with your blood on your hands even if it was your choice. She would live with the knowledge that she couldn’t stop you.

You didn't see what she saw, nor her reasoning. You were too scared of your hell meeting your reality. Love molding into hatred.

Cordelia moved closer to you,causing you to freak out and teleport away at the last minute. She bumped into the workbench.

Did you really teleport after what just happened?

She listened for any noise that could be you. After a few seconds you break out sobbing. You contained the noise as best as you could, if she could hear you, she wouldn't know.

"I didn't mean-"

"I'm sorry. I'm so~ sorry."

"Y/N?"

"I'm pathetic. You should have gotten rid of me when you had the chance, I'm only going to keep screwing up. I know you're glad you're blind so you aren't forced to see your face every day."

"None of that is true. Why would you think that?" You don't respond. She tried to make her way towards you again to comfort you but you teleported away again. "STOP TELEPORTING AWAY! HASN'T WHAT HAPPENED TO ZOE TAUGHT YOU ANYTHING?" You squeaked and stayed perfectly still. Cordelia saw her error. "Shit- Y/N. I'm sorry. Please talk to me."

You'd been acting strange with her since you got back from hell. The only times you were normal with her was when you were at arms length or when she was distressed about Misty's death.

You acted the same way when you got back, teleporting away from her, apologising profusely.

"Whatever happened to you in hell wasn't real."

"It felt so real. It's still hard to dissociate from it." You fidgeted in place. "You said so many vile things, did some- I was- I couldn't-"

"But you got out."

"I stood up for myself, for the first time ever."

"How did it feel?"

"I thought I was going to die. That manifestation of you looked about ready to kill me." Cordelia listened patiently. "Right the question. Uh? Great?"

"You don't sound sure."

"I need time to think."

"Can I come over to you?" You nodded but remembered she can't see so you vocalise your answer. She pulled you in close to her. "I didn't tell you not to do it because of any of the horrible things you thought, it's because I don’t want you to die because I made you compete against the other girls. You may have passed the others but I- two witches has already died today due to my blindsightedness. Not you too. I’m begging you to at least wait, let everyone else go first, as a last resort, if everyone fails then I give you my blessing."

"You’d make a good supreme.” You rubbed your thumb on her hand. You gave her an idea, maybe she should try the tests. “I’ll wait. For you Delia.” Cordelia smiled and moved her body closer to yours, wrapping her arms around your front. “Cordelia?”

"Yes."

"Can you take me away from here? I don’t trust myself enough to not do something if I’m alone."

"Of course dear” She pulled away completely causing you to frown momentally. She stuck out her hand. You took it without a second thought. “But it’s more like you’ll be leading me out of here.”

You lead her through the house, arms hooked together and her other one holding onto the hand you used to hold onto her. She told you she wanted to speak to the others- more specifically Myrtle. You had no clue where they went off to after they brought Zoe to the greenhouse. Cordelia, relying on her powers now more than ever, used her magic to locate the others.

“Lounge room,” she informed you. Upon arriving and spotting the woman you were impressed.

“Damn, how did you do that? That’s impressive.” Which made her chuckle.She waved her hand for you to stop. She was a little bit flustered by your compliments not used to receiving them.

“Divination.”

“Why didn’t I think of that?”

“You would have eventually.”

“I wouldn’t have-”

The others turned their attention to the two of you.

“You’re both back,” Someone said, you were still distracted by Cordelia.

“I found y/n-” Cordelia cut herself off. “I stopped her.”

“I’m the last resort,” you chimed in knowing what she left out.

“You're still allowing her to do it.”

“There’s no talking me out of it.”

“So what's going to happen now?” Queenie asked.

“I’m going to try the test.”

“You gotta be kidding me,” Madison said.

“Unless you can bring back Zoe, I don’t see what other choices we have,” Cordelia said.

“You're just ramping up the contention to scare me,” Madison said.

"She stands a better chance than the rest of us." You said. Everyone looked at you funny."She does~"

"Why doesn't Y/N try? She hasn't been disqualified yet," Madison said.

"You want me to try?"

"So I can beat you."

"There it is," You chuckled.

"It could actually be Y/N. She hasn't failed one yet and we know she can do two of the remaining-" Queenie added.

"It's not impossible that someone manifests almost all the seven wonders, it's just near impossible," Cordelia said.

"Since I've been put aside for a bit, can I pick the next one?"

"Sure dear."

"Divination." Cordelia chuckled knowing the exact reason why you choose that one.

Cordleia flew through the next few tests. Only one remained.You prayed under her breath that she was able to do it for the safety of the coven. Cordelia’s body plupeted towards the ground. You leapt forward to catch her before she hit the ground. Zoe jolted upright gasping for air. She did it. Your girlfriend did it. You were ecstatic.

She grabbed onto you for support as you eased her back up into a standing position. You slowly let go of her and stepped back to talk it all in. Her all in. She radiated perfect health. Her eyes healed, no scarring from when they were stabbed.

Cordelia took the world in, she never thought she was going to see again when she stabbed her eyes out. The world had never looked so bright. The vibrant colours of the floral you were all surrounded with, life anew. The coven lost a powerful witch but gained a new one. No, the power was always there just suppressed by self-doubt. Never again shall a witch under this roof be allowed to doubt themselves. She had a new mission, to make this coven the most powerful it has ever been.

A huge celebration was held that night to celebrate. A celebration among family because that's what you were. The coven had become your second family. You didn’t always get along and a couple members were slightly murderous but it was yours. Madison was out of the picture, she’d run off not long after the next supreme rose.

Cordelia decided to go public about the Witches and their powers in a television interview, inviting new witches to the Academy. Myrtle reminded Cordelia that she must pay for killing the other Council members and should be burnt at the stake. Cordelia resisted, telling Myrtle that she has been like a true mother for her. She didn’t give Myrtle a response straight away. She seeked help from you.

“Do we have to burn her?” YOu asked.

“She killed two of our own.”

“But hasn’t there been enough death. We know she won’t do it again. There was no way anything good was going to happen with those two in charge, they basically sided with your mother the entire time. Anyways, it’s my fault she did it, if I hadn’t done what I did she would never have given me the eyes.”

“Then she would have given them to me.”

“Please Delia. She doesn’t need to die, she was wrongly burnt before, can’t that wrongdoing be the price. No one needs to know.”

“She’s adamant that we do it.”

“But no one wants to do it. She’s too nice of a person to be burnt. Denounce her status as a council member as punishment if you have to do something.”

“What if people ask what happened to the last ones?”

“If they have to ask, then that means Fiona never told anyone. We could use that to our advantage, say we don’t know, it was under Fiona’s reign so they can’t blame you for their disappearance. There are ways around this, I’ll help you every step of the way.”

“Y/N~”

“I knew she was going to do it.”

“What?”

“She told me before she did it. She asked me to distract you for long enough so she could do it.”

“Y/n, you should have told me.”

“I know. Doesn’t that make me just as bad?”

“No.”

“In the eyes of the law?”

“Turning a blind side isn’t the best way to start a reign as supreme.”

“Still better than murder.”

Cordelia invited Queenie and Zoe to be her Council, denouncing Myrtle from her role as a council member. The two girls accept the job offer. The three remaining students took on a new role as teachers at Miss Robichaux's. Cordelia convinced you to take up your long dream of becoming a Doctor, enrolling you in a medical course.

As Miss Robichaux's opened their gates for the new generation of witches, Girls and women were lined up for miles, waiting to take their places as students. Downstairs, the school had a guest, the old Supreme. Once the girls and woman had sorted from those who are and aren’t witches, you went up to Cordelia to inform her of her mother’s presence. She thanked you, placing a kiss on your head before leaving to see the woman.

Fiona was ill and aged. Cordelia predicted that Fiona would not last the night. The two talked about her mother's impending mortality and that she must die for her daughter to truly live as well as Fiona always was Cordelia’s villain, her monster in every cupboard. Fiona wanted to be taken out the same way she took out her predecessor, but no one could help her move on to the end and that Fiona had to let herself go. As they hug, Fiona died in Cordelia's arms.

Cordelia gently placed her mother down onto the ground. She sat down in the chair to the right of the table, reflecting on the last few moments, the words her mother said to her. Her eyes landed on a wrapped package that wasn’t there this morning. Curiously, she unwrapped the paper revealing some sort of journal and her grandmother’s ring. Fiona must have found the ring since she was given the necklace. Cordelia slipped the ring on her finger, admiring it before drawing her attention back to the book. She didn’t recognise it. She opened it at a random page, the pages were aged, the writing in a legible cursive. The contents detailed the method to make a potion that Cordelia had never heard of before with line art of some of the ingredients. Unlike the ring, this book wasn’t for her. She flipped it back to the front. There was a short message wishing the book owner a happy 16th, criticizing their taste for a gift, so on and so forth. It was signed by Fiona.

Cordelia closed the book, running her hand over the leather cover. It belonged to your Aunt and therefore was now yours. Once she dealt with Fiona’s body, she approached you with the gift.

“What’s this?” You asked as you unwrapped the book Cordelia rewrapped.

“I found it after my mother died, I think it’s for you.”

You looked at the book you’ve seen before. You were confused, wasn’t this Cordelia’s? “I don’t understand. I thought this was yours. It has your name in it.”

“I’ve never seen it before today. I think it was your Aunt’s.”

You opened the book flipping through the pages. It was exactly what you were looking for, not only to satisfy your curiosity of the woman your family refused to talk about (other than the occasional reference) but it was the key to helping you finish your project. You brought the book to your chest, huffing it tightly. Finally a connection to someone like you, the same power. You’d been compared to her too many times, now you get a glimpse at the young woman that left the world too young. She could have been you if you were allowed to finish the test. Maybe, there was no way to know and you didn’t plan on finding out.

“Thank you Delia. Really thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You’ve done more than you know.”

#cordelia x reader #cordelia foxx x reader #cordelia goode x reader #cordelia goode image

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ohwhatamessiam · 4 years

Text

Self Control - Chapter 12

Summary: The end of the semester is upon you, but the drama is not done yet!

Pairing: Professor!Chris Evans X TA!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k+

Warnings: Language, uncomfortable feelings, and maybe some secondhand embarrassment.

A/N: Hi y’all! I’m back much sooner than intended, but you know, quarantine and social distancing dictate life now! There’s 1 chapter left in Self Control, and if you’re lucky, I might spring an epilogue on ya (we’ll see how the next month or so goes)! Thank you to @fangirlisms-22 for beta’ing my sudden writing binge. I tried to tag everyone, but some blogs have deactivated, changed urls, or won’t let me tag them. Let me know if you need me to change your url on my list. Here’s the Spotify playlist for the entire fic.

I love feedback, so send me your thoughts, feelings, wishes, etc!

Tags are still barely open for this story, so send me an ask here to be added to it or my permanent list!

Self Control | Masterlist

You had no idea how much two weeks could change your life.

You and Chris had barely spoken to one another, only given polite greetings when running into each other at the office. The rest of your communication was through email.

And Robert had sent the story you were working on from before break to a few of his friends and former students at literary magazines. The story you had started during break was becoming more of a means of therapy, a confessional of your relationship with Chris. And it was helping you process what happened.

It was the last day of classes, and the last day before semester papers were due. The assignment was for the students to choose their favorite story or writer of the semester and then to expand upon what they learned in that specific unit. Whatever specific story or person they chose, they were supposed to research who else has used it as inspiration for work since. It could be modern television or film, or another story or author that was influenced. And then they had to explain why they chose that subject. What made them interested enough to do further research upon it, and how it might affect their future consumption of art and literature.

It was a relatively open-ended subject and for the first time the whole semester, students were actually using your office hours.

And one student in particular who’d been giving you the cold shoulder turned up.

Tom.

He’s perched on the edge of the seat across from you, his laptop on the ground as his hands dig through articles he’d photocopied at the library. He’d chosen Keats as his essay topic, and knowing that you also held a soft spot for Keats, he wanted your opinion.

And the deadline was approaching dangerously quickly.

“So I covered all the adaptations and inspired works, and his legacy. And I wrote about how his work is going to change my perception of poetry moving forward. I just think I’m struggling with why Keats was my favorite unit this semester.”

“That’s okay, sometimes when you get so used to academic writing, it becomes hard to write about yourself, and your own feelings. But putting sources and quotes aside to examine your own mental processes is an important part of literature and writing.”

“Okay, I understand that. But I don’t think that my honest answer about why I took an interest in Keats is appropriate for this paper.”

“If you’re worried about Chris or I reading something personal, you don’t have to be. Anything you write will be private. We won’t say anything to anyone.”

Your mind wanders to what could make Tom so worried. Did it have to do with family or his childhood? Keats had a difficult and tragedy filled childhood. Did it have to do with Keats dying so young, or the discussion of his possible addiction to opium?

His eyes drop to the folder on his legs, his fingers picking at the edges of its pages. “Are you sure?” You nod but his nerves aren’t done. “My reasoning might not be very appropriate for an academic setting.”

“Tom,” you say, your eyes softening as you watch him. “Your reasoning doesn’t have to be an expansive philosophical or literary reason. It can be, but it can also just be as simple as you liked his poems. That you found his life tragic but fascinating. Or that the words and rhyme schemes were pretty or interesting.” His eyes meet yours, the edges of his mouth ticking up the slightest bit. “Don’t overthink it. Just be honest with yourself and the text.”

He nods, letting out a deep breath. “Okay, (Y/N). I will be honest. And I’m going to try to trust you and Prof. Evans.”

“Thank you.” You give him a short nod, showing your gratitude in a punctuated fashion. He watches you for another moment, his brown eyes searching for something. But then he gulps and stops. His fingers place his materials back in his bag.

You sit up in your chair a little, almost saddened that your time with him is up. It was nice speaking with someone who didn’t look at you with desperation (because of finals) or pity (because of Chris). Tom’s thoroughly preparedness had made this the most interesting and easy conversation in weeks.

He packs his bag quietly and you let him. He’s a student, no matter how much you appreciate this time with him, there are clear boundaries. You will not cross them. After everything, that’s something you’re damn sure of.

At your door he pauses and says thank you. You give him a small smile, “You’ve done well this semester. I look forward to reading your paper, Tom.”

He cracks a smile, and you notice the slight rosiness that colors his cheeks. He raps his knuckles against your door for the last time this semester, and then he goes.

A pang of guilt lands in your gut, but you don’t know what to do with it yet. His blush probably meant nothing, he was just flattered. But that guilt stays nestled there, a reminder of what has happened, and a warning about what’s to come.

_______________________________________________________________________

Finals pass without a hitch, for both you and your students. You’re able to read the final papers from your apartment, away from any pity or other heavy feelings. You and Chris had decided to randomly split up the workload so you could get through them quickly and give thorough feedback. But final grades are due on Tuesday and you plan on going into your office to enter them and pick up the last few things you’ll need for next semester.

You get to your office in the afternoon Monday, hoping to miss Chris who said he’d come in early if any students wanted to dispute any last grades with him.

You did not end up with Tom’s paper in your final stack, and you wonder what he ended up writing for the rest of it. You’ve been in your office for almost two hours when you decide you’ll let your nosiness win, and you find Tom’s submission online. As you're opening the file, a heavy knock echoes from your door.

He speaks before you get the chance to look up, “Uh (Y/N)?” The way he says your name reaches your skin, your pulse, well before you find the strength to see him. You close your eyes for a moment, letting out a shallow breath before you answer.

“What can I do for you, Chris?”

He’s still the Chris you first met, clean, crisp lines composing his appearance. The Chris he might have always been. Maybe you just got a private viewing of him, a show for only your eyes. Maybe your Chris was a piece that he never let out. Maybe just an alias. A way to distance his actions from who everyone thought he was.

There is no trace of your soft or rumpled time together.

His eyes catch yours, and there’s something there. A pain, a distance, a longing. But it goes away.

And then he’s stepping into your office, “I wanted to ask you something privately?” He closes the door behind himself, but remains standing.

Does he want to get back together? Is he going to divorce Jennifer? Is he ready to choose you?

With your mind running wild, you make a conscious effort to clasp your hands together and keep your face blank, eyes steady.

“What is it?”

“Have you read Tom’s final paper yet?”

All that hope, gone. A pang of annoyance settles in your core. And it’s accompanied by that hint of guilt.

“I have not. Since you graded it, I didn’t need to.”

“Well… I think you should.” There was something in his eyes again, a spark nearly indicating intensity or concern.

“Okay, um. I’ll take a look at it.” You do not tell him you already have it open. You skim the first page, finding nothing but brief analysis and lots of references. “So far, there’s nothing unusual here. It’s a solid paper.”

“Keep going.” The tension of him standing in your office, waiting for you to finish reading agitates your nerves. Your eyes flick to his, but there’s something else mixed in with his previous intensity. There’s an edge, a little too sharp to ignore.

You keep reading. The second page is finished, and it’s literally everything you two had already discussed. The third page is where things get interesting.

Tom wrote that he enjoyed the lyricism of Keats, but what really cemented the poet as his favorite was his TA.

You.

He wrote that since Keats was one of your favorites, he paid more attention to it. That he saw you view Keats’ work as beautiful, giving it a reverence that he argued Keats should even be honored to have. That he looked up to your opinion and your interests, and that’s how he fell in love with the poetry.

Heat spreads across your chest, your face. You’re honored, but also, this is not what you expected from Tom. You look down from his paper, trying to search your mind for any conversations you had with him that would indicate that he was paying too much attention to you. And unfortunately, it’s there. So is the guilt you felt the last time you saw him.

But you know nothing happened here. You would have never entertained anything more than your positions in this academic institution allowed.

“Seems like he really learned a lot from you this semester.” The edge is there, and this time you can identify it. Humor.

“What are you trying to say?” Your words come out more defensive than you intend.

“(Y/N). This kid has a crush on you. Hell, in his hormonal mind, maybe more. Did you know?”

You shake your head. “No. No, if he has a crush on me, that’s his business. I was nothing but kind and open to Tom, but I didn’t know about this.” Truly, you’re referring to the paper more than Tom’s supposed crush.

The humor leaves him. “Kind and open? Are those two things strictly professional?”

The warmth of your skin turns into something worse, anger. “They were. I would never cross that line with a student.”

His hands brace his body as he leans onto your desk. His face mere inches from yours. “But you’d cross it with me? Your colleague and your boss.”

His words hit you like a slap. You flinch in response. How dare he insinuate that you might be a problem here, a repeat offender of an inappropriate relationship.

You want to yell at him, to let your rage out. But instead, you put on your best passive aggressive smirk. You remind yourself of everything that’s happened. He doesn’t get to see you angry or upset anymore. He gets a civil, bare minimum now.

“I will repeat it. If Tom has a crush on me, that is his business. I know he dropped by my office hours pretty often this semester, but I figured my hours fit his schedule better. And no. I was not crossing any boundaries with him. I would not do that.”

He opens his mouth, his eyes clouding with a hint of regret.

“And I don’t know if you noticed, but I’ve been pretty occupied trying to hide a different relationship all semester. I didn’t have the time to consider Tom as anything but a student, when most of my time was occupied by someone else.”

The guilt you felt before dissipates, but Chris’ downturned lips and furrowed brow just indicates that it has found another home.

“I’m sorry (Y/N).” He sighs and pulls back from your desk. “I know. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Well, you can’t take it back.” Even though every ounce of you wishes he could. Hell, you wish you could take back this entire interaction. That he had never walked to your door. “So let’s just move on.”

“Okay. I can do that.”

Yeah, he’d been doing that without you for a while.

“I don’t know how you want to handle this situation though,” he adds, still standing over you. “If you want to talk to Robert or call Tom in to talk to-“

“Robert doesn’t need to be involved. Tom may have crossed a line into a personal territory, but he’s never acted upon his feelings. So there’s no need for administrative intervention.”

“Are you sure?”

“Chris,” you sigh. You know what you’re going to say next will hurt and may not be completely true, but you don’t need your professional reputation questioned again. “I already lied for your sake once this semester. You could return the favor by keeping this to yourself.”

“I don’t kn-”

“Don’t put a target on Tom’s back.” Your voice comes out strong, authoritatively. You’re settling this now. “I remember being his age and getting dumb crushes on TAs. It doesn’t mean anything, and it doesn’t need to be mentioned again.”

He freezes in front of you, fully taking you in. Maybe he only got little pieces of you this semester too. Maybe it was time you both saw each other for who you fully were.

“Okay.” He nods to himself, letting out a deep breath. “Okay.”

He stays stuck in that spot, accepting your argument.

“So, if that’s settled…” you begin. But his hands squeeze together and his eyes focus on the edge of your desk again. You watch him, wondering what would cause him to look as lost as he did the last time he had been in your office.

“I uh, I wanted to tell you something else.” His blue eyes are back on you, and there’s that twinkle again. Is it longing or pain? Just the fraying of his nerves? You don’t say anything, just let his gaze burn through you, waiting for him to work up the courage.

“I’ve been writing again.” Sebastian had told you he’d been writing when you two were together. You hoped selfishly that he’d stopped when he went back to Jennifer, but apparently not. “The novel I’m working on. It- it’s inspired by some of what happened this semester.”

So you weren’t the only one working through your feelings with writing. But your writing had been vague. It was different characters, different situations, just some of the same emotions and complications. What was he using from the last 4 months? You’d made it through your affair without ruining your career here. Hopefully, he wouldn’t blow your life up with some story about you two now.

When you don’t answer, he turns his back to you. His breath comes ragged, he’s worried. “I just thought you should know.”

“As long as you don’t use my name, or anything too specific, I guess that’s fine. I can’t stop you.”

He turns back quickly, his eyes wide. He must not have expected you to let this go so easily. But you can’t blame him for using the same coping mechanism as you are.

“I don’t even know if it’ll turn into anything important. I just didn’t want it to be a surprise if it did.”

“That’s fine.”

He leans onto your desk again, making sure his eyes are level with yours. They’re so earnest, it hurts. There’s a piece of him there that you used to see so often. That you used to think was yours.

But it had been three weeks. And it makes it a little worse knowing you might never see that sincerity again.

“I’ll make sure if it does go somewhere, that you get to see it first. I owe you that much.”

You nod, your eyes trained on him. He doesn’t look away.

The intensity between you two is still there, pulling you toward each other. But you said you were done with that. You couldn’t change his decision, and it seemed he hadn’t taken it back either.

His face moves to you, his mouth nearly on your own. You hadn’t been this close since before Thanksgiving break. You can feel his breath on your lips, it tickles your skin. The person you were before break would have used his mouth to relieve the itch. But that’s not who you are anymore.

You pull back from him, putting the necessary distance between you two. He stands up straight, his expression somewhere between confused and upset.

You tell yourself something very important in the moment: he doesn’t get to be upset that you’ve changed. And you don’t get to be upset anymore that he wouldn’t. All that is past you.

“Thank you, Chris.” You say loudly, but without malice. “If you have nothing else to add, I think we’re done here.”

“Of course,” he whispers. He closes his eyes, and the next time he opens them, all those previous emotions are gone. Like no part of the last several minutes happened. He leaves your office door open, just as it had been when he’d come in.

And as you look up, you notice two sets of eyes watching you from the hallway. It is Elizabeth, and her friend and fellow grad student, Letitia. They watch you with pity. You want to be done with that. You force a smile to them, and then close your office door.

_______________________________________________________________________

Two hours later, all the final grades are submitted, and your stomach aches for something to eat. After the day you’ve had, maybe you’ll pick up Italian on your way home. You deserve large amounts of wine and pasta.

As you’re walking on the path to the parking lot, the sun setting around you, you hear feet pound against the pavement behind you. Looking over your shoulder, you see Sebastian jogging toward you. ‘Hey (Y/N),” he calls out. You slow your pace so he can catch up.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, his hair is all messed up. The soft and fluffy look works for him. But then you chide yourself for noticing that.

Once he composes himself, there’s an apologetic smile smeared across it. “Look, I’m sorry about how I acted toward you at Thanksgiving. I didn’t know what was going on with you and Chris.”

If you’re done with the pity, you’re done with this too. “Don’t mention it, Seb.” He grins at you, his eyes crinkling as his apologetic face disappears. “Yeah, I’m trying out the nickname.”

“Good. But are you sure? I was absolutely a dumbass about you two this semester.”

“Sebastian. It’s over. I’m done with Chris. I’m walking into winter break ready to be done with this last semester. I’m ready for something new.” He watches you, his eyes wide. He must notice that you're serious because he settles into a nod.

“Okay. I’m right there with you. My semester has been messy too.”

You quirk a brow at him, wondering how messy his semester could have been compared to yours. What, was he living up to his reputation by sleeping with his TA too? Or did Chris say that to scare you away from him?

“Look, I’m going to tell you a secret, (Y/N). And when I meant messy, I meant messy.” You watch him as he looks around the campus to see if anyone is nearby. “I know Chris has already suspected part of it, but while he was with you, Jennifer was with me.”

Instinct takes over and you slap his arm.

“Hey, they were on a break. And she’d been flirting with me for a whole year!”

You want to be mad at him for him sleeping with his friend’s wife. He violated a serious code of friendship. But for some reason you can’t. And you’re feeling something dangerously close to relief.

You can’t stop yourself, you laugh, loudly. If anyone else had been around, their lives would have been interrupted by the sound.

“I can’t tell if you’re taking this well.”

You smile at him genuinely. “I am actually. And I feel almost sort of, relieved?”

“Oh, have my fuck ups made yours feel less bad?” You wouldn’t have called your relationship with Chris a full fuck up. You didn’t regret it like that. But Sebastian wasn’t wrong. You reach the parking lot where your cars are and he turns on his heels. He gives you a little bow, “I’m so happy my stupidity could be of service.”

You pull your keys out, ready to unlock your car. “Thank you for that, Sebastian.”

“By the way, keep working on that.” He leaves your side as he heads for his vehicle.

“Working on what?”

He unlocks his car from his key fob as he pivots. “My nickname. I want to make sure you have it down for next semester.”

“Is it really that important?”

He gives you the most devious smile you’ve ever seen from him. And from the time you’d spent together, he’d given you many. “It is to me. I prefer that all my TA’s are comfortable enough to treat me as a friend.”

Your jaw drops. You hadn’t heard who Robert was pairing you up with for next semester. You knew it wouldn’t be Chris, but you’d been hoping that he might give you a semester off of assisting.

This time his laugh rang out through the campus.

“Yes (Y/N). Take the break to recharge and prepare. We’re gonna have a hell of a time teaching creative writing next semester.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Tags: @irishdancr24 @lostboyinneverland @captainmarvels @suz-123 @funlizzie02-blog @void-imaginations @cryingovershipsthatneversailed @breezykpop @jcc04220 @nys30 @jonsnowisnotdeadthough @guera31 @wickedcitywitch @london-dreamer71 @patzammit @lilypalmer1987 @talannalew @thatonetuesdaywhensam @supperunnatural20 @evanstanfanatic @lucinapomona @r5rocks101 @dolphinpink310 @bojabee @zlixlle @smashley816 @stevieang @youtheheckisbucky @chrisbck @bit-of-a-timelord @sebastian-i-stan @thefridgeismybestie @ssweet-empowerment @sophiealiice @imaginesofdreams @anotherawkwardaustralian @lostxsea

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ivanaskye · 6 years

Text

We need to talk about NaNoWriMo.

You’ve heard of it. Your friends have heard of it. Your grandmother might have heard of it. Your dog has definitely heard of it.

You’re probably thinking about participating.

And I want to tell you, from the bottom of my heart: you don’t have to.

Not if you’re a beginning writer. Not if you’ve never written a novel. Not if you’ve written a few. Not if you’re a journeyman writer. Not if you’re aiming for publication. Not if you’re a hobbyist, not if you’re a professional, not if you’ve been writing for one year or five or ten or twenty.

You don’t have to.

That doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing to do! Lots of people find NaNo very useful and productive.

But it is not the only way to be productive, and it is not the only useful way of thinking about writing.

So, with that said, let’s talk about ten things NaNo doesn’t prepare you for.

1. Outlining

This, as far as I can tell, is the obvious one. NaNo has a tendency to emphasize the 50,000 words in November thing—but not so much what you might want to do before November. For people who are “pantsers”—that is, they prefer to write “by the seat of their pants”, without outlines—this is often fine. But I can’t be the only outliner who has at times felt poorly served by a hyper-popular event that hardly even mentions outlines.

So, let’s get something straight right here, right now: outlining is real writing work. You’re being productive if you’re “just” writing an outline. You can be productive in stages of the process other than drafting.

If you don’t want to use an outline, of course that’s fine.

But if you do…

Well, consider counting outlining words as words. Because they are! They’re real creative work; they really count as doing something.

And actually, I have enough more to say on this subject that I might as well expand it into point #2…

2. Teaching yourself how to outline

NaNo, and the conversations and mentality around it, by way of not really focusing on outlining, are also really bad at teaching you how to outline.

This is actually an issue for a lot of beginning writers, I think—you might have heard “hey, try outlining!”, but that doesn’t mean you know what an outline looks like. You probably already do know what a draft looks like, because… well, that’s every book you’ve ever read! They’re not first drafts (hopefully), but they are, you know, written prose.

But how many writers’ outlines have you actually seen? Probably not very many.

So, if you haven’t really outlined before and want to—or if you have before, and aren’t sure the way you’re doing it is best for you—I’d really suggest asking around on forums etc. what people’s different outlining methodologies are. There’s some interviews with authors out there which ask about it, too.

(I’ll write up my own methods sometime if there’s interest, but for now, at least google around.)

3. Editing

I’m definitely not the only one who’s brought this up.

Many a successful NaNo-er has gotten to December and just… stopped. They have a draft, but what to do with it? Who knows!

There’s no big push of “National Editing Month” in December, or January, or um… any time, really. And so there’s not likely to be a community of fellow editors polishing up their NaNo works—even though a bunch of people have works to polish. They just know how…

4. Teaching you how to edit

Yup, just like the outlining predicaments mentioned earlier, editing is also not particularly well-taught—and not necessarily all that many readers understand what their favorite writers’ editing processes are like.

Again, I strongly suggest googling around about the different options…

(And I could make another post about this in more depth too, again if there’s interest.)

5. Getting you beta readers

One thing that can make editing a lot easier is having someone to beta or alpha your work—read it over even when it isn’t polished, and tell you if something makes no sense or if you have a typo or if Elle’s shirt was red on page 4 but green on page 5.

But one thing that NaNo doesn’t do a great job providing is… a community of beta readers, or advice on how to get them.

(Unfortunately, I can’t give a lot of suggestions here because I often struggle with this as well.)

6. Preventing burnout

For a lot of people, NaNo is a lot. 50,000 words in a month? That’s 1,667 words a day! And most people participating in NaNo already have responsibilities of some kind—whether that’s school (in which case, November is like, the worst month to attempt to write a novel) or work or whatever.

And the culture around NaNo encourages folks to just go for it no matter what—which definitely can be a good thing, depending on the person, but also can lead to… completely burning out after November ends and being too tired to create anything else ever for the next several months.

In other words, NaNo doesn’t really teach you a lot about how to pace yourself. 1,667 words a day isn’t necessarily a bad goal, but is it a goal that makes sense for where you’re at? What if, instead, you could do 500 words every day… for a whole year? Or 2000 words for strings of days with weekend breaks in between? Or, or…?

And speaking of that…

7. Year-round writing

NaNo’s a great sprint, with people encouraging each other to just go for it and make something happen.

But what about when you don’t have that community?

What about when you don’t have that externally set goal of 1,667 words a day, with badges and so on to earn along the way?

This is something I struggled with myself, back when I did NaNo—I completed the novel I was working on within the first 18 days or so, and then just… stopped. I didn’t use the rest of the month to write another one; I didn’t even write anything as long as a short story for months after.

Why? Because I didn’t have an external reason to. I knew I loved writing—I felt so good when I did it!—but I didn’t know how to motivate myself. Not if it wasn’t already put into the bin of “something I was supposed to do.”

Actually, that could even have its own point…

8. Self-motivation without cheerleaders

This is hard. This is legitimately really hard. I’m not going to downplay it.

But if you want to be a creative person in a world that seems to think peoples’ only worth is their ability to work high-paying jobs which likely bore them to death? You are going to have to learn how to self-motivate.

I can’t tell you how, because even more than other things about writing, this one really differs by person. Sometimes the techniques that work great for one person and get them to feel great about themselves are the very things that send other people into spiraling depression.

It’s really, really hard. And NaNo doesn’t prepare you for it.

9. Slower, more careful writing

So… you may have noticed that 1,667 words a day is a lot, for lots of people. So how do many NaNo writers choose to accomplish it?

Well, they write as fast as possible. And sometimes what that means is writing, frankly, kind of sloppily.

I want to stress that this isn’t always the case.

But it often is the “mode” of writing that desperate first-time NaNo-ers are likely to try: the Just Get The Words On The Page Even If They Suck method.

And that’s not necessarily a bad method! Sometimes it’s the only thing that works for a particular day or scene or whatever. But you kind of want to be conscious about choosing to write with that philosophy—and aware that other philosophies of writing exist.

Because, honestly, hyper-fast, sloppy writing is a pain in the butt to edit…

(Then again, maybe that’s actually why you want to do it—if you’re someone who likes editing more than drafting. That’s something I can’t relate to at all, but I know there are people out there who are like that.)

Sometimes, an hour could be used either to write, say, around 1000 super-fast sprinted words… or 500 more carefully thought out words which will take half the time to edit later.

And you want to figure out which feels right for you, and makes things easier/better/more enjoyable. This might also completely differ by day or by project. But you want to be aware of it.

10. Project-switching

A lot of writers—and I do mean a lot—are, in one way or another, working on multiple things at once. For instance, they might be editing one story in the same week that they’re working on drafting another. Or outlining one thing and drafting another. Or drafting, like, two things that they switch between depending on their mood. And so on.

But you’d never know that from NaNoWriMo.

The focus on writing exactly one novel in exactly one month drowns out the very real possibility that with a different workflow and more switching between things, there are people out there who could put out two novels in two months… without having either done after the first month.

Or, you know, two in three—or two in four, or, or—which is a “slower” rate than NaNo asks for, but also lasts longer than November (see points 7 and 9.)

Working on multiple projects at once isn’t for everyone, of course—some people prefer focusing on exactly one thing at at time—but it’s still another possibility to be aware of.

Tl;dr

That was a pretty long post there—about the length of a day’s NaNo requirement, to be exact. So what’s the take-home?

Well, here’s what I’d say: Remember that outlining is real writing work. Remember that editing is real writing work. Remember that you can go at all sorts of speeds and use all sorts of processes to get writing done. And remember, maybe most of all, that November is only one out of twelve months in the year.

Thanks for reading.

#readmore because LONG #nanowrimo #nano #advice from a professional writer

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tipsyraconteur · 6 years

Text

Good Boy, Part 3

And the fluff just keeps coming. I’ve added a rating belatedly, so sorry to anyone that was hoping smut was going to come out of this. SOMETIMES YOU JUST NEED FLUFF AND DOGS, OKAY?!

Good Boy, Part 3

KakaSaku Coffee Shop AU

Rating: T

Word Count: ~1.9k

[ Part 1 ] [ Part 2 ]

“Large triple vanilla latte, one quad shot, and two triple café mochas. Is that everything?” Sakura asked the group of tired-looking students in front of her. They all nodded their assent. “That’ll be $18.56.” She made change for a twenty and gave them all a bright smile. “I’ll have those ready in just a moment.”

As she moved to the hot bar to begin preparing the drinks, Sakura held back a sigh. It had been another long day, and she was more than ready for the steady stream of customers to slow down. It was almost dinnertime, though, so she hoped that once she worked through the current queue of customers, things would slow down.

The next twenty minutes passed in a blur of cheerful greetings and drink making and money exchanging hands. When she had only three people left to serve, she heard the tinkle of the bell above the door and called out her customary “Welcome to Konoha Grind!”, only to see a familiar head of disheveled silver hair poke through the door.

Sakura’s stomach did a little flip as he smiled at her, and she smiled back as she wrote an order on a cup. He was wearing his usual dog-approved backpack, but he also had a laptop case slung over his shoulder, and a leash—no, three leashes—in one hand. Sakura bit her lip against a giggle as Shiba and two other dogs followed him in. How many dogs did he have?

By the time she finished serving all of the other customers besides Kakashi, he’d settled himself at one of the larger empty tables and appeared to be completely focused on whatever he was looking at on his laptop. Busying herself once more, Sakura made a medium flat white and four small cups of whipped cream, and then approached the table, somehow managing to hold all five cups by stacking the small ones.

She grinned a little to herself as she took in the scene before her. Kakashi had his laptop in front of him, with several different sets of papers and a notebook arrayed around him. Pakkun sat resolutely in the seat beside him, his flat little face just barely peeking up over the edge of the table. Shiba and the new dogs all lay arrayed under the table at Kakashi’s feet. Sakura chuckled to herself as she noticed Kakashi squinting while a pair of folded glasses lay unused on the table beside him.

“You know, wearing those would probably be a lot more effective than leaving them on the table,” she said with humor in her voice as she set the flat white beside him.

Blinking as he drew his attention away from the screen, Kakashi looked up at her, and then to the glasses she was referring to. “Right,” he said, picking them up and unfolding them in order to put them on. “I take them off sometimes because they make my ears hurt.”

Finding herself inwardly musing about how cute some men looked in glasses, Sakura’s smile widened. “You could get them adjusted if they’re uncomfortable,” she suggested for lack of anything better to say.

A sudden weight resting on her foot distracted her, and Sakura looked down to see one of the yet-to-be-introduced dogs decisively sitting on it. He looked up at her, prodding at her hand with a wet nose and looking at her with big solemn eyes. Sakura immediately began stroking his head, smiling. The dog responded by letting out a sigh and leaning against her leg.

Kakashi had a fond grin on his face as he leaned back away from his laptop. “That’s Uhei.”

“He’s really interesting looking,” Sakura said, noting his broad face and long, slender body. “Do you know what breed he is?”

“My best guess is some mix of bull terrier and greyhound. Pakkun’s the only purebred that I have,” Kakashi replied.

Sakura began to scratch behind Uhei’s ears and the dog let out a contented groan. She laughed.

“He really likes you,” Kakashi said in a warm tone.

Sakura looked up, meeting his eyes, and they smiled at each other. “I like him too,” she replied. They looked at each other a moment longer before Sakura got embarrassed and changed the subject. Holding her hand out, she made grabby fingers. “Treats please.”

While he rummaged in the pouch clipped to his pocket, she gently moved Uhei off her foot and crouched down to look under the table. “Who’s the other new guy?” she said, eyeing the smaller brown floppy-eared dog sitting quietly by Kakashi’s feet.

“That’s Bisuke. He’s a little shy, but he’s friendly.”

“Hi Bisuke,” Sakura said softly, encouraged by the slow wagging of the dog’s tail. “You’ll let me give you a treat, won’t you?” She gave a treat to Shiba first, who happily gobbled it up. Holding out her hand, palm up, she offered a treat to Bisuke without leaning any closer. He eventually crept just far enough toward her to take the treat from her hand and then retreat to his master’s side while crunching on it. Sakura beamed.

Beside her, Uhei let out another groan that turned into a whine. Kakashi laughed. “You can’t just make him fall in love with you and then give other dogs treats.”

“It’s not my fault,” Sakura countered in a singsong voice as she patted Uhei on the head and gave him his treat. “I can’t help it. I’m irresistible to good boys.”

Kakashi paused in the action of giving Pakkun his treat, the corner of his mouth quirking as he quietly murmured, “Indeed.”

Sakura felt a little thrill go through her. She felt like she kept losing her footing; one minute they’d be talking about dogs, and the next they were flirting. At least, she was 99% certain it was flirting—she wasn’t very practiced at it. Unsure what to do next, she found herself changing the subject again. “What kind of work are you doing, anyway?”

“I’m a freelance writer,” he answered. “I do a lot of work for online publications. Right now, though, I’m just catching up on email,” he continued with a bored sigh, eyes flicking to the laptop. “It’s not very interesting, but it has to be done. I thought I’d do it here and give you some company,” he finished, his gaze returning to her.

Sakura stood, patting Uhei again. “You won’t hear me complain. It always gets slow this time of night, and kind of lonely.” Pausing for a moment, a little awkwardly, she finally said, “I should get back to work, and let you get back to your emails.”

“Just let me know when you need us to get out of your hair. Oh, and here’s what I owe for my drink. You can keep the change.” Pulling out his billfold, he handed her a few bills, his eyes creasing in another smile. Thanking him, Sakura gave Uhei one last pat before returning to the counter.

For the next hour and a half, Sakura kept herself busy. The occasional customer would float in and she’d take care of them with her usual brisk efficiency and friendly smile. When there were no customers, she’d work on her closing duties, beginning with shutting down and cleaning the half of the hot bar that she could get away with closing before the end of the night. Kakashi mostly stayed focused on his laptop, pausing at one point to feed each pup their puppuccino, but one time she’d caught him smiling at her while she was humming to herself. She’d blushed, knowing she was pretty tone deaf, and stuck her tongue out at him before returning to wiping the counters.

Having finished all of the pre-cleaning that she could behind the counter, she soon moved out to the main part of the shop. Uhei perked up when he saw her, picking his loose leash up in his mouth and moving to follow her. Kakashi looked up long enough to ask if the dog was being a bother, but Sakura waved him off, happily letting the dog follow her around as she refilled napkin containers and wiped down tables.

When there were only a few minutes left until the shop was closed, she approached Kakashi’s table again and lightly drummed her fingers on the table to get his attention. When he blinked up at her, looking a little worn out, she smiled and jingled the keys she held in her hand. “I have to lock the doors soon. You should probably give yourself a break, anyway.”

He gave a quiet laugh. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He closed his laptop decisively and began to gather his things and put them in his laptop bag. “Thanks for letting me camp out tonight.”

“Usually there are one or two people who come to hang out, but if you hadn’t been here tonight I’d have been completely alone for most of it.” She chewed on her lip for a moment before adding, “I really do appreciate you bringing these guys in and cheering me up. It’s nice of you.”

Raising his brows, he affected a nonchalant manner. “You say that like I’m showing up with a steadily increasing number of dogs just to see you smile.” His lips curved into a lazy smirk. “That would be insane.”

Sakura ducked her head a little, feeling her face heat up. “You’re an idiot,” she said, trying for a scowl and smiling instead.

He laughed in a slightly cocky way, as if to imply that she liked that he was an idiot, and set about lifting Pakkun into his bag. Soon he stood and slung both bags over his shoulders. Sakura busied herself by gathering the ends of all of the leashes, handing them to Kakashi when he’d adjusted his bags into a comfortable position. After giving the table a once-over to make sure he didn’t leave anything behind, he moved toward the door, and Sakura followed.

“I’ll be here again tomorrow night if you need somewhere to work,” she commented lightly as she opened the door for him and his mob of dogs.

“I wouldn’t miss it.” Pausing, Kakashi gave her a long look.

“What?” she said with a laugh, feeling self-conscious.

“Hold still.” Reaching out his free hand, he ran his fingers lightly through the candy-colored strands of hair that framed her face. A small smile curled his lips.

“Do I have something in my hair?” Sakura asked, imagining streaks of whipped cream and coffee grounds.

“…Nope.” Letting her hair slide from his fingers, he grinned at her, his scarred eyelid dropped in a quick wink. “Have a good night Sakura.”

Cheeks burning, mouth slightly ajar, Sakura watched him turn and walk toward the parking lot. She blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Stop making me blush!”

She heard him laugh, and over his shoulder he called, “Not a chance. See you tomorrow.”

A little stunned, she stepped back and swung the door shut, locking it before letting her forehead rest against the cool wood. Her laugh, when it came, was breathy and echoed warmly in the empty shop.

#kakasaku #my stories #coffee shop AU #good boy #STILL NEEDS MOAR DOGS #tipsyraconteur

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switchdnp · 6 years

Note

i sent the ask about femdom and sub!dnp and CAN U PLEASE WRITE THAT??? PLEASE UR SUCH A GOOD WRITER IM BEGGING YOU

word count: 2533

warnings: dom/sub themes, praise, teasing, fingering, blowjobs, dan eats pussy thank the lord, way way WAY too much buildup its ridiculous

a/n: hi yall my mental and physical health hasnt been the best lately so this took me like a billion years, i hope it was worth the wait !! not proofread at all and some of it written in the middle of a flare lmao so im super sorry if theres any obvious obnoxious typos!!

“Hey, are you sure you want to do this? We can always back out if you want.”

Phil hadn’t been expecting to say those words tonight, not when they were just going out for a small party, invited by a few of their friends for a celebration over something they couldn’t even quite remember. He especially hadn’t been expecting to say them in their current context, with him and his boyfriend in the bed of someone else–someone else who happened to be a woman—waiting together for her.

They’d met her at the party, a few drinks and a whole lot of flirting leading the both of them back to her house. Maybe it was just how sweet she was, how both Dan and Phil had been longing for the possibility of another threesome, too long a time since their last one (A whole seven months, actually, and honestly, they shouldn’t keep record of those things, but Dan demanded they mark the occasion every time.) But really, what most likely ended them up in this situation was how curious they were.

It had been so long since either of them had sex with a woman. Even when they invited in others to their bedroom, however rare that event was, they were almost always men. It wasn’t like they didn’t want to, it just seemed like for whatever reason, it never happened. So when the chance for such a thing happened to arrive, nothing was stopping Dan or Phil from snatching it up the second they could. They were both horny bastards, after all.

Samantha was her name, Sammy for short, and the way she held herself piqued Dan’s interest from the beginning, all the way back at the party. She was so confident, absolutely taking control of the room with her self-assured presence. He mentioned it to Phil absentmindedly, and Phil had burst into a fit of giggles, murmuring that Dan acted the same way.

“You must be attracted to yourself, then.”He’d laughed, taking another sip of whatever moderately alcoholic thing they were drinking together—always together, of course. They couldn’t not share anything, not even drinks.

“You’d be into that. Two Dans, going at each other.”Dan teased in return, chuckling at the way Phil blanched immediately.

“Surprisingly, no. And even if I did like that, I’d much rather be actually involved in the action.”

“Oh, so you want all the attention,” Dan continued to banter, wrapping an arm around Phil and kissing the side of his head, even as he frowned and cringed at the words. “well I can’t deny you that, you are pretty cute after all.”

“Is that the only reason you keep me around, to be cute?”Phil asked, giving into Dan’s affections and resting his head on his shoulder, wanting to be closer, as close as they could be in a public place. Dan didn’t get a chance to answer, however, because that’s when Sammy came over. She initiated the conversation so easily and flawlessly it nearly made Phil’s head spin, unable to imagine how someone could socialize with so little effort.

A few minutes in and they were already head over heels, Phil especially. She reminded him so much of Dan, had the same attitude and personality, even down to the way she smirked when she teased them, and giggled when she got teased back. It was so easy talking to her, like they’d known her for years, instead of what was probably only half an hour. The flirting and questions came naturally, questions about what they wanted to do, if they really wanted to do anything.

The decision was easy to make, and that’s how they’d ended up here. Dan was curled up with his head in Phil’s lap, too lazy to properly sit up until Sammy came back in the room. He took a deep breath, let out an even deeper sigh, and after a little bit of thinking he was ready to answer Phil’s question.

“I mean, I want to, I honestly do. I’m a little intimidated since it’s been so long, but it’s not like anything bad is gonna happen.” He muttered, tapping his thumb against Phil’s knee. Phil giggled, and brought Dan’s hand up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to his thumb to try and sooth his fidgeting.

“Besides, it’s not like eating ass and eating pussy can be that different, right? And I eat you out all the time.”Dan added, making Phil whine and scold him. His cheeks were red, and as embarrassed as he was, Dan could tell he loved it. Before he could further fluster his boyfriend, Sammy was opening the door, walking in with the same confidence she’d had at the party. She’d undressed, down to her underwear, and somehow that made Dan and Phil feel self conscious about still having their clothes on. Just as Phil started tugging his hoodie off, Sammy stopped him, murmuring out a stern, yet gentle, “Wait, hold on.”

Phil froze like he’d been caught committing a crime, and Dan couldn’t help but snort at the expression on his face.

“Don’t worry, I just wanted to ask you what exactly you wanted to really be doing tonight. Before we actually got into stuff.”She reassured, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Her slick brown hair was pulled up into a pony tail, and it bounced every time she moved. If they were in any other context, Dan would’ve commented on how cute that was. As things were, he didn’t think now would be the right time.

“Well, we’re good for anything, really. Is there anything you had in mind?”Dan explained, knowing Phil would rather him speak for the both of him. He was much shyer, stumbled over his words in situations like these, and it was just easier for Dan to say what they wanted.

“Actually, I kind of wanted to maybe be the one in charge? If that was okay with you?”

That question set off a reaction in Dan’s head, a sort of rush of adrenaline shooting through his body, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Neither of them had ever been dommed by a woman, but the opportunity seemed incredibly appealing right now. He glanced over to Phil, and his boyfriend nodded in response to the question he didn’t even have to ask. He liked the idea too.

“Yes, we’re both okay with that. More than okay with it, actually.”Dan replied, his knees starting to feel a little weak as he realized what was about to happen. He’d never done this before. Sure, he’d fantasized about it, especially when he was a lonely teenager with only his hand and a whole lot of low quality porn to keep him content, but the idea that that fantasy was finally coming true was more than a little nerve wracking, and a whole lot exciting.

“Okay, how about you two start by getting undressed then, yeah? Make it quick, be good for me.”Sammy instructed, the grin on her face turning cheekier as she let herself slip into headspace. They both did as they were told, Phil struggling with his jeans a little more than Dan. Sammy chuckled playfully, helping him tug them down, and that relieved any of the excess nerves and tension in the room.

She let her fingers trace delicately along Phil’s thighs once the jeans were off, skimming over the sensitive skin, and dragging her pointer finger all the way down to crease of his hip. Her hand was dangerously close to his quickly hardening cock, but Phil knew it was far too early in the night for her to be touching him yet. He was familiar with that method of teasing, Dan using it on him all too often. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it though.

Sammy noticed the way he was holding back, trying to keep his hips from bucking, and she smirked at him.

“Good boy, just stay still for me.”She praised, her other hand drifting up to Phil’s chest now. She didn’t miss the way Phil quivered when her thumb brushed over a nipple, glancing over to Dan and asking “He’s sensitive here, isn’t he?”

Dan nodded, “Yeah, he goes absolutely crazy. I made him cum just from his nipples once, took a lot of work to get him there.”

Phil was just about to tell him off for bringing that old memory up when one of Sammy’s hands finally wrapped around the head of his cock, just the faintest of touches, but more than enough to take him by surprise. He leaned forward with it as she started to jerk him off, resting his head in the crook of her neck. Sammy reached up with her free hand to run her fingers through his hair, and that little jealous instinct in the back of Dan’s mind piqued at the sight, something in his chest growing tighter when he thought about how many times he’d been in the same position with Phil. But he pushed it aside, instead focusing on how gorgeous his boyfriend looked getting pleasured, his eyes fluttered shut and lower lip caught between his teeth now.

Sammy turned to face Dan as she continued to get Phil off, eyes glancing down to his hard, neglected cock. She gave him permission to touch himself, and within seconds Dan was wrapping his hand around the leaking tip, rubbing a thumb through his slit repeatedly. The sudden onslaught of stimulation was enough to have Dan shivering, his hips twitching sporadically.

After a few more minutes like that, Sammy switched her attention over to Dan, pressing their lips together first. It was odd, kissing someone who wasn’t Phil. Dan had almost forgotten he was capable of it. It was even more with Phil sitting right beside him, watching everything go down, and getting off to it. Before he knew it, Sammy was leaning back and spreading her legs, leading Dan down to where he could sit comfortably on his stomach in between them. Her hand tangled in his hair, and she pushed his head down, letting him know what she wanted from him.

He kissed over her labia, letting his tongue dip between the two folds, lapping up the growing wetness there. Sammy moaned, and Dan could hear Phil moan in time with her, hear the sound of skin slapping gradually speeding up, letting him know just how much Phil was enjoying this. They both spurred him on, encouraged him to try even harder as he licked over her clit, dragging his tongue slow and careful, almost hesitant as he tried to remember how exactly he’d done this with his old girlfriend.

“Just like that, keep it up sweetheart.”Sammy half-instructed half-groaned, letting herself get caught up in the sensations. It felt so good, too good, and for a moment she was almost worried about losing her composure. She whined again, and Dan’s confidence spiked. He buried his face deeper, alternating between sucking on her clit and circling it with his tongue. He was so invested he barely noticed when Sammy brought Phil over to let him kiss her too, her tongue slipping in his mouth.

She pulled away for a second to speak, “Phil, I want you to finger Dan for me, make him feel good and later I’ll let you cum, okay baby?”

Phil nodded and pulled the lube out of her bedside drawer, slicking his fingers up before circling one around Dan’s rim. Dan moaned against Sammy, the vibrations from his mouth making her thighs shiver around his head. She wrapped her fingers around Phil’s cock once more, dipping a thumb through his slit, and playing with the leaking precum there. He shuddered, hips bucking up without control now.

A second finger pushed past Dan’s rim, and he clenched tight around it, wanting to remind Phil of how nice that felt squeezing around his dick. He was successful, if the way Phil started finger-fucking him faster then, dragging his fingers in and out and rubbing roughly against his prostate, was anything to go by. His cock was practically throbbing now, wound up beyond relief and ready to cum at any second. Honestly, he hadn’t gotten this close this quickly in ages, and maybe it was from the extended foreplay, but Dan had a feeling something about the rush of a whole new experience was playing a part in how he could already feel his orgasm building in his gut.

Sammy was getting close too, he could tell, and he doubled his efforts in hopes of getting her there just from his tongue, it’d worked for Phil plenty of times, after all. Sammy’s fingers gripped tighter in his hair and pushed him even harder, as if trying to keep control of Dan’s mouth, use him in the best way possible. The thought, combined with Phil pressing in a third finger at the same time, was enough to send Dan over the edge, and he came whimpering into her, hips rutting pitifully against the soft bed as he rode out the last waves of his release. Phil pulled out his fingers when the stimulation started to border on painful, Sammy followed soon after, her lips parted, mouth dropped agape as she hit her high. It reminded Dan of how Phil looked when he came, and honestly, that shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did.

Just as Dan started to properly settle down, Phil was whining for the attention back on him, his cock now completely untouched, dark red at the tip. Sammy didn’t even need to give him instructions before Dan was pushing Phil’s dick past his lips. suppressing what little gag reflex he had left after years of sucking cock, and taking him down to the hilt. He swallowed around Phil, his throat fluttering on the tip of his dick, and Phil was cumming within seconds, not needing much after having been teased the whole night.

Phil panted as he came back down, falling back on the bed, and savoring how nice the cold sheets felt on his overheated skin. Sammy chuckled at the display, getting up and grabbing a wet cloth from the bathroom. She cleaned him and Dan up, praising them both for having done such a good job, and helping them shift out of subspace.

She climbed into the bed next to them, seemingly unfazed by the concept of sleeping with two strangers (if they could really be called strangers after all that) beside her, but Dan and Phil took it in stride. The mattress was comfortable anyways, more comfortable than the one they had at home. They could sleep here for the night.

– mod sasha

#phan smut #phan hc #phanfic #phanfiction #phansmut #sashawrites #im exhausted fgdfgdfgd woops

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just-another-winchester · 6 years

Text

Unexpected Guests

You’re Not Alone - Chapter 9

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warnings: None that I can think of

Word Count: 2209

Summary: You confront Dean’s ressurection with confusion and relief.

A/N: Other than my deepest apologies for the quality of the summary, I haven’t got much to say about this chapter. This, for me, in my mind, is where everything begins. I am working on a preview blurp for the series that I hope you all will read and enjoy. If you liked this, I encourage you to tell me! Share your feelings, as for every writer, feedback is what really helps motivate us. Love you all, thanks for reading!

FEEDBACK IS MY SUSTENANCE!!!!

You stared at the face of the man you'd loved, struggling with your emotions.

You felt like your brain was tricking you. You saw his face flicker between the soft warm look on his face now and the dead look from the last time you laid eyes on his face. He didn't do anything for a moment, for a solid minute you both just looked at each other.

You couldn't describe the look on Dean’s face. It was some sort of certainty and regret, his eyes locked on yours.

You were shaking, the knife in your hand quivering. You saw a bit of blood coming from a small cut you'd made on his neck. It was just blood, there was no sizzling or burning or anything… this… this was Dean.

Without even thinking, you dropped the knife and wrapped your arms around him immediately, wrapping around his neck and gripping him as tightly as possible. You wanted to believe this was real, you needed this to be real.

You felt arms wrap around you. God he was hugging you, he was holding you close. You thought you'd never feel that again. You gripped him as though your life depended on it, you never wanted to let go.

After another moment you pulled away, looking into his eyes yet again.

“I- I don't-” you stuttered out.

Dean gently gripped your arms.

“Hey, I know,” he said softly, a smile on his lips. “I'll explain, I promise.”

You accepted that and pushed yourself back into his arms, this time just cuddling up against his chest. You had to hear his heartbeat. Listen to the fact that he was alive.

Finally you pulled away again, and you felt suddenly drained. You moved quickly to allow the men into your apartment.

You were suddenly very self conscious of your home. You'd allowed no one into your apartment until now, and having them here… it just felt odd.

Now that the reunion was over, you felt strange, awkward. Exposed even. You swallowed as both Winchesters entered the apartment, you closed the door behind them and cleared your throat. You were still shaky but you'd regained your composure somewhat at least.

“Do you guys want a drink or anything?” you offered.

Sam shook his head, offering you a thankful smile. Dean on the other hand became the Dean you knew and loved.

“Hell yes. You got beer?”

You pursed your lips, damn this man.

You nodded slightly, a smirk slipping across your face.

“And pie,” you said to him.

He looked at you, his expression dropping to almost shock.

“I missed you so much,” he said, heading straight towards your kitchen.

The sincerity of his words made your heart skip a beat as you smiled. Dean immediately went to the fridge, grabbing a beer and the pie he saw on the stove top.

“So, does someone wanna explain what the hell happened? Last I checked, pie guy over here was spaghetti string and suddenly y'all are standing in my apartment.”

“Yeah, about that…” Sam said. You could hear Dean in the kitchen, opening and closing drawers in search of a fork as you stood to face the younger Winchester.

“Clean forks are in the sink, Dean,” you said to him, turning to see him already with a beer in his hand.

You turned back to Sam, Dean quickly coming up beside you with a fork and a mouthful of pie.

“You probably wouldn't believe it.” Sam said.

“You really think there's anything I wouldn't believe at this point?” you asked, turning to Dean. “You need a plate for that?”

Dean looked at you, already with a smirk on his face from your previous statement.

“Nah I'm good,” he said, his mouth full of pie.

You rolled your eyes as you turned back to Sam. “Seriously, how is he alive? What did you do?”

“It wasn't me,” Sam said. “Trust me, I tried everything.”

“Sam, if it wasn't you, then what was it? How is he here?!” you demanded, getting impatient.

“An angel saved me,” Dean cut in.

You frowned. “A what now?”

“Yeah, an angel. Ya know, fluffy wings, halos, white nightgowns.”

“I know what an angel is you, nutjob. But, what are you talking about? I thought you said they aren't real,” you said to the guys.

“Yeah well, surprise,” Dean muttered, taking another bite of pie.

“Okay, so angels are real and they sent one to save Dean… why?” you asked.

Sam shrugged. “We don't know yet.”

“Well, I guess I can't really question it. We got him back at least.”

You took note of Sam's current state. He looked different since last you'd seen him. He was bulkier, and he'd grown taller. You also noticed that he looked tired, you weren't sure why, if maybe he just wasn't getting much sleep or whatever it was.

“Sam, you look beat, why don't you go lie down for a bit. I'm sure whatever business you have, it can wait long enough for you to rest up,” you said to the man.

Sam shook his head, opening his mouth to speak, but you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Do you really wanna argue with me? Go. Room is the end of the hall. Sleep tight,” you ordered.

Sam intelligently did as you said, sighing and walking off down the short hall to your room.

You turned back to Dean, who'd just finished the last of the pie.

You smirked and snatched the empty pie tin from his hands, walking back into the kitchen.

“Hey, I was gonna lick that,” he argued.

“Too bad. I wanna rinse it out,” you responded.

“These are nice digs you got here,” Dean said to you as you both entered the kitchen.

“Gee thanks,” you muttered.

“Hey, I mean it. You're doing well.” He insisted.

You ignored his words for the most part. Although you were so grateful that he was there to speak to you, you couldn't bear to talk to him about the life you'd made for yourself because he'd died.

You heard Dean sigh,

“Y/N,” he said softly, stepping closer to you. You could feel his hand gently take your arm as you set the pie tin in the sink, “talk to me.”

Talk to him? About what? He'd died. He was dead, that was the only thing you could think about right now. It was miserable. The life you had made here was out of desperation.

Aside from your mini armory in your room you had worked hard to hide any presence of your life with the boys, simply out of the fact that it was too painful to endure the same life without them, without Dean.

Dean repeated your name and you almost couldn't handle it.

“Sure Dean, what would you like to talk about? Weather's nice… gosh i have to remember to do my taxes. Oh yeah, how about 20 minutes ago I thought you were dead.”

You managed to pull yourself away from his grip, the distance you caused absolutely killed you.

“Y/n” Dean sighed

“I watched you die, Dean. I felt your body go limp in my arms.”

“Y/n” Dean repeated

“I buried you, I buried you and aside from your crappy music and that damn knife i buried every memory of my time with you!” You practically yelled

“Y/n” Dean said again, still calm

“You died! I had nothing left because Sam was bent on revenge and Bobby was being hunter operator and I had no one! I was alone! This time with no visions of someone to save me and give me hope… you left Dean… you left me.”

You'd separated yourself, from him, from that life, and now, you were standing opposite him, your arms crossed and head down. You couldn't hold back the tears.

You were so relieved to have him back, but you were angry about the time you'd lost with him. You blamed yourself, Sam, Lilith, you blamed Dean, and you couldn't handle how close he was to you now.

You had forced yourself to forget, even though you never had, and now here he was.

“Y/n.” Dean said again, stepping forward carefully “First of all, my music is not crappy.” he said, “I can't change what happened, okay. And I wouldn't want to. My brother is alive because of the choice I made. I'm not saying it didn't suck cause boy it did. But saving him, was worth it. I'm sorry for what that put you through, I'm sorry that you were alone because believe me that is the last thing I wanted, but I'm back, I'm here and I need you to believe that I will never do that to you again. Y/n I love you, and as long as I can help it I will make sure you are never alone again.”

Dean took slow steps towards you, you stayed exactly where you were until Dean was right in front if you. He placed his hands on your upper arms and looked you in the eye.

“Don't make promises you can't keep.” You warned him.

Dean actually had the nerve to smirk at that.

“I haven't.” He said softly.

You knew he could see the tears in your eyes, and he pulled you close. “Hey, c'mon. I'm here now, trust me. I won't let go again, not this time.”

You accepted his embrace and allowed your arms to wrap around him, trying hard to keep in the tears.

You allowed yourself to cling to him. He was here, he was alive. He loved you…

It felt like you stood there forever. Being near him, soaking in that familiar scent, the way it felt to have him near again.

“Ya know.. I don't remember you wearing dresses.” You heard Dean say, amusement in his voice.

You blushed, stepping back and looking up at him.

“I didn't own a dress before. It wasn't practical to wear something like this while on a hunt. I quit hunting, so i changed my wardrobe.” You answered with a slight shrug.

“Well, you have a point. I can’t really see you kicking ass in a skirt. But still, i like this look.” He winked at you, making you roll your eyes.

“Oh geez.” You sighed at the man, turning back to your sink to work on the dishes.

“So how long have you been back anyway?” You asked Dean softly,

“Not long. Bout a week, Bobby had to track you down from the last time you talked to him.” Dean answered.

You nodded, after Dean died you and Sam went separate ways, but you kept in touch with Bobby, just a little. Enough to know if he was alive, and to find out about Sam. You liked Bobby, he was like a fun uncle. He was a smart ass, but he was a pretty amazing guy underneath the dirt and flannel. To be honest the dirt and flannel added to the aesthetic of Bobby.

“He has my number he should have just pressed speed dial.” you pointed out,

“And what would he have said? Hm? Hey I need your address, I’m sending Sam and your dead boyfriend over for a visit.”

You rolled your eyes as you filled the sink with warm, soapy water.

“I don’t remember even saying you were my boyfriend.” You pointed out,

“Seriously? Isn’t it just a given at this point? I love you, you love me. You kick my ass for leaving you and now I’m alive and we’re one big happy family.” Dean noted, You chuckled.

“Uh huh, sure.” You muttered, “Well you’re right at least. I probably wouldn’t have believed him.” You sighed,

“Yeah, he didn’t believe it either. I knocked on his door and he tried to stab me with a knife.”

You snickered at Dean’s words, “Sounds like Bobby.” You muttered, “Love that guy.”

“Hm,” The man grunted, “I gotta take a leak, where’s your bathroom?”

“Right beside the bedroom, just go down the hall, door is open.” You said,

You heard Dean’s footsteps walk away and down the hall, the familiar sound of those clunky ass boots made your heart rise. He was back. You had so many questions, what about your job? Your apartment? This life you had made?

But none of that mattered. Dean was alive, and you would follow him anywhere. He wasn’t wrong, you loved him, more than anything, these things you had earned in your time of mourning meant nothing if there was no longer someone to mourne. This had been your attempt to forget the pain of losing him, but if he was here, you had nothing to forget.

You were skeptical, uncertain about a lot of the details, about leaving this life behind, but in retrospect, it had no meaning to you. It was the life you had created to move on, there was nothing to move on from.

You had an outline of a life you had not colored in yet, it was easy to leave, and if you had Dean at your side…

You would leave it behind happily, and go with him. No matter the cost.

You would not lose him again.

MY TAG LIST IS ALWAYS OPEN!!!!

Dream Team

@queen-of-deans-booty @ria132love @winchestergeekfreak @maui137 @katymacsupernatural @jayneysimp @emoryhemsworth @just-another-busy-fangirl @bunniesowlsandwhales @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @mogaruke @kristendanwayne @cassieraider @squirrel-moose-winchester @hms-fangirl @heyitscam99

Dean Team

@akshi8278 @polina-93 @aubreystilinski @-lovepeacenhope- @waywardbaby97 @missjenniferb @whimsicalrobots

You’re Not Alone tags

@elizabeth-silverthorn @trustnobodyshootfirst @dizzy-sunshine @the--real-wombat @oreosatmidnight @supernatural-is-my-support-group

Spnpond/Dean tags

@bennyyh @castieltrash1 @saveyourblood @they-are-not-just-stories @angelina-mariex @smoothdogsgirl @youre-my-grxvity @aprofoundbondwithdean @manawhaat @nichelle-my-belle@leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @notnaturalanahi @bkwrm523 @salvachester @roxy-davenport @impala-dreamer @samsgoddess @frenchybell @scorpiongirl1 @for-the-love-of-dean @mysupernaturalfics @spn-fan-girl-173 @deandoesthingstome @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @fiveleaf @deansleather @curliesallovertheplace@whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @waywardjoy @mrswhozeewhatsis@imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline @supernatural-jackles@wevegotworktodo @ilovedean-spn2 @quiddy-writes @babypieandwhiskey-library@wi-deangirl77 @deantbh @supermoonpanda @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67 @memariana91 @plaidstiel-wormstache @chelsea-winchester @fandommaniacx @writingbeautifulmen @revwinchester @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell @supernaturalyobsessed @ohwritever @winchester-writes @evilskank-inthemegacoven @maraisabellegrey @faith-in-dean@winchestersmolder @clueless-gold @deanwinchesterxreader @melbelle45 @winchester-family-business @4401lnc @teamfreewill92 @there-must-be-a-lock@just-another-winchester @canadianjelly

#Dean x reader #you're not alone #chapter 9 #dean winchester #dean fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #supernatural #spn #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fiction #spn fic #spn fanfiction #spn fiction #spn fan fiction #reader x dean winchester #season 4

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