#I mean the show finishes tomorrow and that was the instigator | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beauleifu · 2 years ago

Note

Any of the Spiders x reader comedy maybe? Please and thank you ^^

OK so I've decided to do all of the spider babes and instead do little headcanons for all of them, mostly comedy so the line isn't too blurred lmao

Hope you enjoy!

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~LMK HEADCANONS~

Syntax, Huntsman, Goliath, Spider Queen

SYNTAX

Insanely good at keeping secrets. If you tell him you accidentally killed someone he'd take it to the grave (especially if you asked him personally not to tell anyone)

Also incredibly good at telling when someone is lying. But looks like a freaking demon while doing so. Will stare at you with a deep frown and narrowed eyes, figuring out if you're lying with just the slightest change in your voice. And then proceeds to call you out on it.

Will hold a grudge. If you get coffee on his clothes he won't talk to you all day.

Love language is physical touch and intellect (DUH lmao). He's a touch-starved bean, but will absolutely fall in love if his significant other is smart. But not as smart as him or it'll be a competition.

He'd also fall in love with a total idiot. Like an I forgot to flush the toilet, accidentally burnt the toast kind of idiot.

You have to kill him to make him sleep (not in my story tho lmao)

He has a weakness for bargains. Will perk up with interest the second you suggest one. Like "Okay, how about this-" Syntax looks up sharply, eyes laser-focused on you. "If you go to bed with me, I'll watch you finish constructing your doo-hickey tomorrow. And I'll also listen to you explain everything."

Boom. Sealed. He's a sucker for boasting his big brain. He'll sit you in his chair as he moves around the room, or even in his lap if he's sitting down, going into deep detail about everything.

You understand none of it, but at least he's sleeping.

Gets jealous easily. If someone so much as smiles your way he's all glares and stiff replies until you're back home. Then he'll devise a plan to track said person down and figure out if they already have a partner. If they do, they're safe, but if they don't - well, they'd better prepare for a very personal and deadly warning at their doorstep.

Actually loves to cook. Like as long as you're cooking with him, he won't mind preparing dinner for the clan.

Is the reason spam calls are a thing. Don't ask. It's because of you.

Secretly judges everyone. Will tell you exactly what he thinks, no matter what. He may be very blunt, but he has a high emotional intelligence, so will refrain from saying something hurtful. He'll just put it in a nicer way.

Has a few pet names for you but mostly calls you by your name. Called you darling once and he's never been the same. Neither have you.

Loves calling you darling now.

HUNTSMAN

Actually believes taking you to a wrestling match is a fantastic idea for a date. He's all like "Weaklings. I could beat all of them to a pulp. See now, why you're so lucky to have me instead of these twerps?" You do love it but sometimes wish he could like- actually take you out. With a knife? Or on a date? Who knows.

Will definitely touch you inappropriately. He'll smack your ass to catch you off guard, or he'll sit you in his lap in front of everyone. Just for fun. I mean, he won't instigate anything unless you're somewhere private and he can tell you want to get feisty.

Walks around shirtless at least half the time. It pisses the hell out of Syntax but you find it kind of adorable. Besides, he has a nice set of abs so it's not like you don't get a view.

This man sleepwalks. One time you followed him all the way to the local market. He was SLEEPING and you're lucky you caught him because while at the market he tried to steal a few packages of meat. Eyes closed. Everyone thought he was crazy.

Hates electronics. It's most likely because Syntax is obsessed with them. Will definitely swipe your phone and hide it so you can spend time together.

Will seize the opportunity to show off his weaponry. this man will freaking carry you to his quarters if necessary, all to show you the newest weapon he'd crafted. He's super prideful, and any complement will only boost his ego. But if you don't, then he literally won't talk to you and instead polish his knives. All while refusing to let you leave.

Incredibly stubborn. Bro hates it when you give him the silent treatment. Will literally lock you in his room until you guys work shit out. Yes, this includes him glaring daggers at you from the bathroom or whatever.

Is a huge boast, and a bit of a blacksmith, hence why he makes his own knives and shit.

Love language is gifts and mutual respect. If you clearly show how much you respect and love him with gifts or whatever, he's head over heels. Won't admit it, but still. Not much of a physical person unless he's in the mood.

Instant death for those who wrong you.

He's very quick to judge, like always assumes the worst kind of guy.

PET NAMES. THIS DUDE. Pet names in public, in private, in bed, you name it. And he'll come up with the weirdest shit in history.

GOLIATH

A gentle giant - literally. He's a cinnamon roll and will offer to carry you anywhere if you want.

Gullible. He'd give you a 20 if it's all he had, but he'd also kill someone he doesn't even know if you claimed they needed to stop breathing. Like it was a JOKE and LUCKILY you stopped him.

He's very considerate, like won't say anything that's meant to insult unless the other deserves it. When it comes down to you, compliments and gifts galore.

Love language is gifts. Spider demons are suckers for gifts, and even Syntax is starting to lean towards them. Goliath likes homemade things, he considers them more meaningful than something purchased at the store. He won't refuse something store-bought, though, cause it's from you.

Enjoys poetry, and will always show you the newest poem he devised.

Ok they're terrible and mostly involve shit you don't understand, but you admire his dedication.

Will DEFINITELY knit with you, no matter what. If it's 3 in the morning and you're up for knitting a sweater, so be it. Bro will go through hell and back for you.

Is the first one to comment on how empty the fridge is, and also the first one to fill it up. Everyone else is just lazy. Yes he fills it up with only partially edible things like berries or severed limbs. No, you don't vomit, you just gag.

Really wants to go shopping with you, like out and about, but can't wear a disguise since he so big.

DEFINITELY uses his size to his advantage. And he'll be the worst tease about it. If you need to go through the door, he'll stand in your way like "what's the fucking password, tiny baby." But without the fucking. Cause he's a pure boi and wouldn't swear even if you threatened him.

Calls you sweetheart most of the time.

Is more of a listener than a talker, so he'll stare at you with starry eyes as you explain something, nodding along and only providing commentary when necessary.

Really, really enjoys music. Will lay on the floor with you for hours listening to your favorite songs.

Mentally, he's a stone wall. Like for a soft guy you'd think he's sensitive, right? Nope. Not only can he take three full grown men at once, but he can also take insults like a pro. Nothing phases him - unless it comes from the people he cares about. That's where the tables turn.

But hey, you've only insulted him once and you never did again.

SPIDER QUEEN

Spoils you like a pro. You want that? The manager will die if he refuses.

Babe has a heart of gold. First on her bucket list is conquering the world, and second is making sure you're the happiest person alive. You know nothing of this list and never will.

She complains a lot. Honestly, it's like she has a set of expectations for you. No really.

Can't cook to save her life - unless she's making her personal stew. No one knows what goes in it. If she tried making something normal like pancakes you'd end up with a burning stove.

Has a difficult time apologizing. She's the Queen, for crying out loud.

But if she's made a mistake, she WILL make it up to you.

Let's say you and her are arguing, the normal, all fun and games, until she says something surprisingly hurtful and you're rendered speechless. She'd drop all retorts, eyes wide, and approach you slowly while saying, "Oh. Oh, hell, is it something I said?"

Love language? You guessed it. GIFTS.

Babe will put on a brilliant disguise in order to visit the nearest market to buy that thing you'd stared at for only five seconds.

Yes, she notices everything.

You sneeze? She'd chuck a tissue box in your direction. You yawn? Pillow to the face.

She'd act nonchalant about it, like it's the most normal thing ever to take care of you as though you were her own kiddo. But really, she's just hoping you get better so she doesn't feel bad when berating you.

Will host long conversations with you, mostly discussing opinions. She's a very opinionated person and most of her actions are motivated by what she thinks of the subject.

Considers cold showers a death threat.

Next time you walk in after she showers, you're blinded by steam. And the Spider Queen STILL says the water was lukewarm.

Won't do anything that doesn't fit into her schedule.

LOVES PRANKS.

OH MY GAWD. Ok half the time she pranks you out of boredom, and it's a silent command to entertain her, but other times she just loves making you mad.

She loves making anyone mad. It boosts her ego.

<3 <3 <3

#lmk #lmk headcanons #lmk spider demons #lmk syntax #lmk huntsman #lmk goliath #lmk spider queen #chaotic headcanons #fluff #comedy #bro i dont even know #tags are a myth #/j #can you tell i was having way too much fun with this #huntsman's were the most fun actually #thanks for the ask!

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astralaffairs · 4 years ago

Text

voltaire to versace 01 | thomas jefferson

title: voltaire to versace 01

pairing: professor!thomas jefferson x reader

words: 7.3k

warnings: implied sex, heavily suggestive content but nothing explicit, hella teasing, dolley madison payne

desc: from francis bacon to foucault, descartes to dante, your political philosophy seminar doesn’t promise to be a blowout — and yet, one mysterious stranger and a risqué evening later, your burberry-clad professor gives you the feeling it won’t be quite the snoozefest you’d expected.

WASHINGTON D.C. — HOME to the White House, the Lincoln Memorial, a metro that no longer catches on fire, and most importantly, one Y/N L/N's new university. Coming in as a transfer student in the second semester of her junior year wasn't exactly her ideal scenario, but walking across a stage in a cap and gown sixteen months later certainly was — a degree is a degree.

She'd spent the previous two semesters abroad, traveling throughout Europe and trying to figure out her next step. She hadn't yet paid her junior year tuition, and on one fateful night in northern Italy, she transferred to the University of Westphalia on a whim (that whim being a generous financial aid package and a pre-existing housing offer, but that was neither here nor there). It'd been a jarring few months, spending the Christmas season packing up her entire life to not only leave Europe — a process that came with many heartbroken nights of hotboxing a friend's apartment and mourning the loss of her societal nap times — but also finally abandoning her hometown in favor of moving to the east coast.

The change may have left a lump in her throat, but it lifted a weight from her shoulders; she felt light on her feet despite the heavy D.C. snow. Much of the credit for that had to fall to her dearest Dolley Payne, the light of her life, the wind beneath her wings, the old best friend who'd found herself a dirt-cheap apartment just outside of campus and offered that Y/N come be her roommate. How could she resist a proposal like that?

However, that was also how she found herself a drink and a half deep and putting back on her boots at nine o'clock the night before classes started.

"Are you sure going out right before the first day back is a good idea?" Though Y/N was eyeing Dolley skeptically, she just rolled her eyes, pulling on her coat and scarf.

"Relax, it's not like we're going clubbing," she assured her, but when Y/N raised a dubious eyebrow, she continued, "Come on! You literally moved in last night. What kind of best friend would I be if I didn't take you out at least once before everything's back in college mode?"

Dolley nudged Y/N playfully as she pulled on her coat, and the latter sighed. "I'm a new student here, Doll. I don't think showing up hungover to my first class is a particularly good look."

"You don't even have class until 3 PM!" she argued, and though she pursed her lips, Y/N had to admit Dolley had a point. "Relax, I won't even get you drunk. I just need you to come see the cute little speakeasy on fourth street. It's my favorite spot."

"'Speakeasy'?" Y/N questioned, buttoning up the front of her coat, and Dolley nodded enthusiastically.

"Mhm. You've gotta know somebody to know about it," she said. "It's a pretty open secret in this neighborhood, but it's one of the only bars that isn't always crowded."

"It's a Sunday night; how many people are really going out drinking?"

Dolley gave her a tired glance. "You'd be surprised."

———————

AND WHEN THEY stumbled upon the bar not twenty minutes later, surprised she was.

"This is really the place?" Y/N was looking around skeptically, struggling to believe that the dirty, dank alley she'd been led into was was the entrance to Dolley's favorite spot in town. Had Dolley decided to murder her now that her name was on the lease, if only for the insurance payout? Had she been dealing with the mafia? Maybe she'd changed more in the past year or so than Y/N thought.

"Do I ever steer you wrong?" Dolley asked, eliciting a heavy sigh from the other woman.

"Too often to try and count."

"So then it's long overdue that I get it right." She finally stopped in front of a nondescript, weathered metal door in the back of a mildly battered building, and Y/N all but skidded to a halt, having been expecting to keep walking a while longer. She was hesitant to follow when the door Dolley opened revealed a set of stairs going up, but taking a step forward revealed the warm light filtering down toward them, carrying alongside it traces of jazz music and animated chatter. "See? I know what I'm talking about sometimes."

"Sometimes," Y/N repeated, unconvinced.

When they emerged just moments later, Y/N decided fairly quickly that she liked it. It was quaint, old-fashioned, but a warm, charming space.

"So?" Dolley asked, and though she gave a noncommital shrug, Y/N was smiling. "Let's get a drink or two in you and maybe you'll give it the credit it deserves." And maybe, just maybe, Dolley had hit the mark once again.

Two drinks and an hour later, the both of them were seated at the bar, giggling and slumped over one another but far from drunk. As it turned out, a year apart left them with a surprising amount to talk about, from Y/N's hostel horror stories to Dolley's nightmare of a former roommate -- both of which left them endlessly grateful that they were going to be living together from then on. Their coats were draped over the backs of their seats, and the energy spilling over from their spirited conversation was born more of a sugar high than of any real intoxication -- both their drinks were heavy with fruit juice and mixers, if only for the sake of sobriety.

"...but that was when the cops showed up."

Y/N's eyes widened. Dolley had only finished detailing about a semester and a half of her freshman year, and she was still at least fifteen minutes into sharing her first run-in with UW's notorious midterm rager. "You can't just stop the story there!"

"But there's no more to tell! No one stuck around to get arrested. We were on the steps of the library, for heaven's sake."

"So you just left? How'd you get away?"

"Oh," Dolley giggled, a hand resting on Y/N’s knee as she leaned toward her in her short fit of laughter. "Well, I just ran for it, and very nearly got myself hopelessly lost. A grad student ended up letting me hide out in the library until it all cleared up."

"A grad student, huh?" Y/N wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "And you spent the whole night locked in there with them?"

"Oh, you know it's not like that! I was nineteen, don't you start making drama where there isn't any."

"But Doll, you know that's my specialty," Y/N whined, and Dolley laughed. "Anyway, were they cute, though?"

"All I'll say is that if I were trapped in a library with them tomorrow, I'd feel lucky to be on birth control."

Dolley's sly grin made Y/N gasp teasingly, leaning back to eye the other woman as though she'd just instigated a scandal. "Dolley Payne! I am ashamed at your lack of self restraint."

"You wouldn't be if you were on the receiving end of it."

"You offering?" Y/N raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her drink.

"I mean, my roommate just moved out, so there's no one at my apartment right now," Dolley said mildly, giving a slight shrug. "Any chance you wanna spend the night?"

When she winked, Y/N couldn't help but laugh outright. "Mm, I'll definitely consider it," she said, sarcasm heavy in her voice, and despite her dry tone, Dolley once again burst into a fit of giggles, her hysterics more contagious than Y/N would've liked to admit. Perhaps her roommate couldn't hold her alcohol quite as well as as she thought.

Dolley leaned back toward the bar for a refill, and Y/N's eyes began to wander in her absence. The room was packed with leather furniture, tufted couches and armchairs; it had a fireplace along one wall and a pool table in the corner at which two men seemed to be escalating quite a heated argument. The sight amused her, if only in the least, but she turned away with her small smile, taking another sip of her drink. That was when her gaze landed on the man directly to her left where she sat facing Dolley, his arm draped over the back of the couch and his stare fixed on her friend. Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, don't look now, but the hottie at your three o'clock is totally checking you out."

"'Three o'clock'?" Dolley repeated, brow furrowed, "Y/N, it's past ten, what are you--"

"Military directions, Doll; just--" Y/N cut herself off with a scowl, glancing back to her side. "Don't be too obvious about it. He's directly to your right." When Dolley's head whipped around toward the man, subtlety be damned, Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. However, the other woman's eyes widening gave her pause. "What, d'you know him, or something?"

With the way Dolley was biting her lip and fiddling with the rim of her glass, it was strikingly obvious that there was more to the story. "...Sort of," she replied vaguely.

"Which means what, exactly?" Despite Y/N's newly uncovered intrigue, Dolley's eyes didn't leave the man in question, and her best friend scowled. "Spill. Now."

"That's James," she finally answered, wearing a wide grin. "He's a friend."

"I need details here!" Y/N demanded. "Based on how he's looking at you, I'm not sure I buy that he's just 'a friend.'"

"He's a PhD candidate. We've crossed paths in the school of economics a couple of times, and he's a big sweetheart. But you didn't hear that last part from me." Y/N raised an eyebrow at her words, and Dolley continued, "And I might've slept with him, like, once or twice."

"How is that the last thing you think to mention? You've been holding out on me," Y/N said, swatting at Dolley's shoulder, but she just shrugged. "So are you gonna go over there and talk to him, or what?"

"Oh, no, I can't leave you alone here!" she protested. "This is our night to celebrate your finally moving here. I wouldn't abandon you like that."

"I can take care of myself; I promise." Y/N gave her a pointed look before nodding back toward James. "Besides, you're stuck with me all the time now. Don't pass up something like him just to spare your conscience. C'mon."

Dolley hesitated, stealing another glance to her right, and when James met her gaze, giving her a small smile, Y/N could see her face light up. "Are you sure?" Despite Dolley's hesitance, her eyes were shining, and Y/N nodded.

"Go. Have fun. Live a little."

"I'll be back for you in a bit, dear." Dolley squeezed Y/N's shoulder affectionately as she stood up, sending her a grateful look before starting off to her right.

Y/N turned back to the bar with a chuckle, finishing off her drink and asking the bartender for a glass of water, musing about what her first few days at the university would look like, her gaze absent as she looked up at the shelves of alcohol across from her. She was still sad to have left her semester of travel behind, but she'd long since decided to embrace the change this year had already begun to bring. She was living at the nation's capitol, paying next to no tuition at a prestigious university. New beginnings were bittersweet, but she was excited for her path forward.

Her thoughts had begun to gravitate toward the semester of actual classes she had before her (because apparently, to get a degree, she had to "get good grades") when she was pulled back to the room before her, the bartender setting a martini down in front of her. It looked tempting, but-- "I'm sorry; I think there's been a mistake?"

Her words seemed to catch the bartender by surprise as he stopped himself in his tracks, returned to where she was sitting. "What seems to be the problem, ma'am?"

"No problem at all, but I think this drink is someone else's," she said, pushing it back toward him with a polite smile. "I've just been having water."

"Actually, it was sent by the gentleman at the end of the bar." Her eyebrows shot up, and when she glanced to her right, she caught the gaze of a well-dressed man whose eyes were already trained on her, wearing a barely-there smile, an expectant eyebrow raised. She hadn't realized she was staring, gaze wandering from the v-neck of his sweater to where it was pulled taut around his dark forearms, until the bartender cleared his throat, and she turned back to him with a start. The man several seats over was now grinning outright, in her opinion overly self-pleased, and she deigned not to acknowledge how the way he was looking at her had her heart pounding against her ribcage. "Take it or leave it, but it's no mistake."

She bit her lip, not daring to turn to her right once more; she could already feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, creeping up her neck. "Would you please send it back to him?" She asked in a small voice. "Tell him that if he wants to talk to me, he can come here and do it himself."

To her relief, he obliged her with a surprised laugh, continuing off with the glass she'd been offered, and she thanked him quietly as he went on his way. It couldn't have been a minute later when a low voice from behind Y/N made her jump.

"Y'know, when I buy women drinks, I don't usually get 'em returned to me with stipulations."

The corners of her lips twitched upward, but she didn't look at him until he came around to stand beside her. "Then maybe you've been buying drinks for the wrong women."

"It's like that, huh?" His soft huff made her smile. "Maybe I bought a drink for the wrong woman just now."

Y/N turned to him with her brow furrowed, already opening her mouth to rebuke him, but when she saw his teasing smile, she stopped herself. "You still decided to come over, didn't you?"

"So, what, you're just too irresistible?" He rose an eyebrow, and she shrugged.

"You said it, not me."

He laughed, drumming his fingers on the back of the chair beside her, and she pursed her lips as she eyed the man. He had a full head of dark, thick curls, and his tight sweater bulged at his biceps, drawing her distracted gaze away from his winning smile. "Mind if I join you, then?"

She was leaning onto the bar, resting on her forearms as she considered him, lips pursed. "I suppose some company couldn't hurt."

"Glad to hear it." Y/N was struggling to pull her eyes away from the wide grin he wore, but as he took a seat beside her, he didn't seem to mind. "So what's a woman like you doin' drinkin' alone on a Sunday?"

"Good question," she started, lips pursed as she considered him -- because really, what was she doing? Playing ghost wingwoman for Dolley? Reminiscing on her shitty flings in Europe? Trying to sober up from the sugar content of her sickeningly sweet cocktails so she didn't throw up from something other than alcohol? "Maybe I've just been waiting for someone to finally approach me."

Her mischievous smile made his eyebrows shoot up, surprised but more than pleasantly so. "'S that right?" The noncommittal tilt of her head gave him little to go on. "Sorry to say it, but if you're lookin' to meet people, this isn't the first place I'd recommend, sweetheart."

"It seems to be working for me so far," she pointed out, raising a smug eyebrow, and the man laughed, eyes shining. "Then again, I don't even know your name. Have we really even formally met?"

"You make an excellent point," he conceded, and when Y/N took another sip of her water, his eyes flickering down to her mouth was the furthest thing from subtle. "But what's the intrigue of a mysterious stranger approachin' you at a bar if I just tell you my name, hm?"

"What, are you going to make me beg for it?" The undertone of her own words certainly wasn't lost on Y/N, not as her voice dropped to a murmur, the corners of her lips curling up into a mischievous smile. He didn't seem thrown off, either; his eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch, a fire blazing behind them that Y/N could've sworn hadn't been there even a minute before.

"Don't you start givin' me ideas," he said quietly, and she could feel her breath catch, her stomach turn, but she paid it little mind, "unless that's what you're really lookin' for."

"I don't think I know what you're implying." The innocent smile Y/N had plastered on made him raise an amused brow, despite that her voice sounded as though she'd been winded. "But it does seem awfully mean to make such a fuss over something so simple. I have to say, I almost feel like I'm being exploited."

"Hey, I came all the way over here. 'S your turn to put in some leg work now." When he bumped his elbow into hers, she hadn't expected to laugh at the brief, teasing action, but whether it was hormones or her excessive consumption of glucose, something about that night had her feeling just a bit lighter than usual.

"Alright, alright," she finally caved, dropping the coy facade. "What can I ever do to make up for the wasted martini and two meters of walking you had to overcome?"

"You can tell me where you're from, for starters." Y/N raised a skeptical eyebrow at the question, folding her arms, but he only shrugged. "What? Haven't seen you around here before; I know I'd remember if I had." She rolled her eyes when he winked but didn't cut him off. "So what's your deal, then? In town visitin' a friend? Here for some kinda election event?"

"I just moved here, actually. I'm new to the neighborhood."

"So you're livin' around here?"

"So you're already trying to stalk me?"

He laughed at her accusatory stare, her lips pursed. "Nah, 'm just from this part of town," he said, but hesitated a moment to continue as he eyed her curiously. "Can you blame me for takin' interest when I hear a pretty face like yours is gonna be out 'n' about here more often?"

"Excuse you, I'm much more than just a pretty face," Y/N said defensively, but the man just shrugged.

"Well, since you're refusin' to tell me anythin' about yourself, how am I supposed to know that?" The look in his eyes was challenging, and she let out an amused huff, trying to bury how endeared she was in a facade of exasperation.

"Alright, smart guy; you win this one," she said with a scowl, but her lips quirked as she continued, "I just settled into an apartment building a block or two over. Now have I earned your name?"

"I'm Thomas," he supplied.

"Y/N."

"Y/N," he repeated quietly, the look in his eyes softening. "So, where'd you move here from?"

"A little bit of everywhere," she responded vaguely, taking another sip of her drink, and Thomas cocked a brow.

"Care to explain?"

"I've been abroad," Y/N laughed, enjoying his look of bemusement. "I'm from Ohio, originally, but I went to Chicago for school, and I've spent the past year or so in Europe."

He nodded, pausing a moment at her words. "Really? Ohio?"

"I spent a year halfway across the world, and that's what you choose to focus on?" Her words were almost indignant, and the disbelief in her narrowed eyes made him laugh.

"'M sorry, I just..." He trailed off, his eyes wandering down her figure, and she gave him a skeptical glance, turned back to her drink. "Wouldn't have pegged you for a Midwesterner."

"There's a reason I ran for the hills the first chance I got." She snorted, taking a sip of her seltzer water as she shook her head. Her gaze was absent, drifting across the wall behind the bar, but before Thomas could question it, she'd turned back to him, eyebrows raised. "So what about you? What's your origin story? Texas? Alabama?"

"Virginia, born and raised," he answered easily, clear pride in it laced through his voice, but he glanced at her suspiciously a moment later. "I really strike you as bein' from Alabama?"

"Listen, the southern accent was all I had to go off of. I did my best," Y/N defended, trying and failing to keep a laugh out of her tone, and he scoffed.

"Sure you did, sweetheart." The sarcastic lilt to his voice came alongside a broad grin, and had his voice not been so playful, she may have written him off right there and then. As it was, though, she couldn't even bring herself to scowl at the words. Instead, she held his warm stare, trying not to concentrate on the fact that she could feel his body heat permeating his sweater just inches to her left, trying to reign in her spiking pulse. Being beyond hyper-aware of just how close Thomas was, though, it shouldn't have startled Y/N when he knocked his knee into hers. When her eyes refocused, having been lost in thought, she could see in his eyes the pleasure he was taking in how skittish he'd made her.

"Anyway, now that I'm not some cryptic intruder," he started -- he didn't seem to notice that Y/N's focus was still fixed on subduing the heat rising in her neck, "can I buy you that drink?"

—————————

THUS BEGAN THE rest of their night. It was nearly eleven when Dolley texted her from the other side of the room, a frantic plea for forgiveness if she went home with James. (She swore, she hadn't meant to leave Y/N alone on their first night out together -- besides, Y/N seemed to have found a nightcap of her own. Forget a tall drink of water; the stranger in burgundy was a daiquiri and a half -- Dolley's words, not mine.)

And really, Y/N didn't mind. She was more than willing to walk home alone if it meant a night of just a little adventure. She ended up staying at the bar with Thomas until the owner nearly had to throw them out -- and Y/N couldn't blame them. Neither of them had had anything to drink in over an hour, so she supposed that as the clock neared midnight, they really weren't making much of a dent in the profit margin.

But it wasn't her fault, really. No one told her when she'd left her apartment that evening that, for once in her life, the person sending her a drink wouldn't be an incel with a god complex. Quite frankly, not only was that bullet dodged, but Thomas quickly proved to be more than a few inches above the low, low bar she'd set.

The night grew colder outside the windows, but the pair of them were preoccupied, busy inching closer, her hand falling upon his arm when she laughed, his legs brushing against hers as he acted as though he hadn't even noticed. They could both tell her demure front was just for show; her skin burned under his touch, layers of fabric be damned, and his gaze was electric. She'd long since thrown caution to the wind, anyway. Where the night was headed was clear only minutes after he'd sat down beside her; the air between them was charged. Sure, she'd only met him a couple hours prior, but any sort of a spark could certainly make a fire to last at least one night -- and last it did.

However, she didn't expect to have to be the one to push it that far. Brazenness seemed to be Thomas's mode of operation, so she was almost surprised when their being herded out onto the street below didn't immediately end in his hands on her skin, her body pulled flush against him. When they reached the musty alleyway, she was struggling to believe the firebrand of a man who'd bought her a drink hours before had suddenly become so mild in the night air.

But he'd bought her a drink. The ball was in her court.

"You cold, sweetheart?" Y/N glanced back over her shoulder, shivering, to see Thomas watching her with concern in his eyes. To be candid, she was fine -- winter in D.C. had nothing on the frigid bite of the air in Finland -- but she couldn't pretend how worried he looked wasn't part of what was tempting her to deal with the devil, heavy shadows clinging to his brow.

"I'm alright," she replied quietly, offering him a reassuring smile, but his creased brow didn't part.

"You sure? That coat doesn't look all that heavy."

"Really. I'm okay," she said with a light laugh, though she didn't think how she'd begun sniffling as her nose started to run was helping her case all that much. "I have a short walk home; it's no biggie."

That, however, made his eyebrows shoot toward his hairline. "You're walkin' home? Y/N, I dunno how safe that is."

"It's hardly snowing."

"I mean for you to be alone in the city in the middle of the night," he said, pausing as he reached where she stood just before the opening of the alleyway. "Can I call you an Uber?"

She turned her head to find him right by her side, perhaps an inch between the pair, his warm breath tickling her neck as he looked down at her. Her smile was hesitant. "I'm not letting you burn up some fossil fuels for a two block car ride. I can take care of myself."

"How 'bout if I walk you home?" he offered, and she let out a light sigh. "C'mon, leavin' you here alone in the middle of the night doesn't sit right with me. If somethin' happened..."

Though he trailed off, the implication in his words was obvious, and Y/N raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying that, because a stranger might follow me home, I should let a different stranger follow me home to prevent it?"

When she put it like that, Thomas couldn't help his quiet laugh at the irony of the situation. "Hey, I thought we'd agreed I'm not a stranger anymore," he protested, but Y/N looked him up and down skeptically.

"What, you paid for my drinks and called me pretty, and suddenly we're besties?"

"Now, we both know 'besties' wasn't exactly what I was goin' for," he said matter-of-factly, his smile sharp but playful, and despite how tilted the whole situation felt, she couldn't hold back her chuckle. She rolled her eyes, stuffed her hands in her pockets as she turned back to the well-lit sidewalk before them, the January snow crunching under her boots, but when she met his eyes, Thomas's expression had softened. He rose an inquiring eyebrow, and finally, she sighed.

"Yeah, you walking me home would be nice."

A grin split his light demeanor. "Alright. Lead the way, sweetheart."

"Follow me."

They took a right out of the alleyway, and as traffic continued to roar by beside them, speeding through the night, as the low buzz of the antiquated streetlights permeated the air, they fell into a comfortable silence, never falling out of step with one another. Snow was flecked across both their coats, and shadows were cast across their features, cycling back with each passing lamp.

Y/N hadn't been exaggerating when she deemed it a short walk home; it couldn't have been more than five minutes before they found themselves nearing the front steps of her building, and she looked up at him.

"Hey, thanks for tonight," she said, voice timid, and he turned to her with a wide smile.

"'S been my pleasure," he replied. "Sorry for keepin' you out so long; your roommate must be startin' to wonder."

When Y/N laughed lightly, Thomas raised an eyebrow, apparently not following whatever she'd taken away from his words. "I have a feeling she's a little too preoccupied to be worrying about me right now," she said dryly. She'd been back in town for not 48 hours, and Dolley was already going out on her own -- as supportive as Y/N was, Dolley had a habit of getting too attached too quickly. She was praying James wouldn't end up another regrettable hookup.

However, Thomas couldn't exactly hear her thoughts, something Y/N hadn't considered before tightly grabbing ahold of the rope to her mental tangent -- it was his fault, really. She couldn't be blamed for his lack of talent in mind-reading. But as he continued to watch her expectantly, as she pulled herself back to the present, she finally said, "She's spending the night with someone else tonight. Make of that what you will."

He shook his head in amusement. "Good for her."

"I'm sure her host thinks so."

A moment passed in quiet under the frigid night sky, Y/N hesitant to act but Thomas hesitant to leave. He was the one to break it.

"It was good to meet you, Y/N," he said softly, and she raised her eyebrows. Her window of opportunity was dwindling. "Hope I'll see you--"

"D'you want to come upstairs?" She hadn't meant to cut him off, but the words were spilling from her tongue before she could lose her nerve. Her heart was pounding; she wasn't fond of having to make the risky move, and the tentativeness in his raised eyebrows wasn't helping.

"Seriously?" Oh, God. Was it really such a ridiculous idea that he was struggling to believe she was asking? "I..." Thomas let out a heavy sigh when he trailed off before pursing his lips, tongue in cheek and looking everywhere but at her. "'S temptin', but... I can't do that to you."

Y/N only stared at him in disbelief. "What?"

"You've been drinkin' all night." His tone left little room for negotiation, but she was on the edge of taking offense. "I know you don’t seem drunk, but if your judgment isn't all the way there, it's not happenin'. G'night, sweetheart."

She was still standing in stunned silence when he turned to walk back the way he came, but when he started retreating in her field of vision, she called after him, "Hang on." To her relief, he looked back at her quizzically, footsteps stalling on the snow-coated sidewalk, and she took a step toward him. "I've been drinking seltzer water and fruit juice all night, Thomas," she said, and his eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "So if you're not interested, you don't need to make excuses, but I'm asking you while perfectly sober."

Her stomach seemed to be trying to turn itself inside-out as she waited anxiously for him to respond; the calculated way he looked her over only exacerbated the feeling. "Have you had anything to drink tonight?"

"Next to nothing." The pause between them was heavy, both their minds racing but far from in consensus. "Your move, Thomas."

Not three seconds passed before he was striding toward her decisively, and she inhaled sharply when his arm snaked around her waist, his other hand cupping her cheek, thumb sweeping over the expanse of skin. She was flush against his chest, too surprised to even react, her hands resting at his upper chest, and her eyes widened when she felt his cheekbone brush against the crown of her head. He tilted his head down to look at her, his lips hardly a hair away from the top of her ear. She could feel his breath down her neck, setting her nerves alight. "Can I kiss you?"

Her answer was immediate. "Please."

And before she had time to think, his lips were on hers; he was tangling a hand into her hair. He wasted no time in starting to walk her back toward her building, steadying her with a firm grip on her waist as she stumbled backward.

She yelped when her heel hit the bottom step up to her building's door, and she broke the kiss, then clinging to his shoulders in an effort not to fall, struggling to hold her weight on her legs as she lifted one foot onto the first step. Both their chests were heaving, and Thomas wore a wry grin.

"I've been wantin' to do that since I sent you that martini," he murmured, dipping down to kiss along her jawline, and Y/N let out a breathy chuckle.

"So you had to wait, what, three hours?" she retorted, tone dry. "Oh, how you've suffered."

"Had to wait three hours too long," he corrected her, and before she could jab back at him, his mouth again found hers. She moaned against him when he bit down lightly on her bottom lip, responding in kind by rolling her tongue teasingly against his. It was too much and yet still, not enough. His hands were all over her; she couldn't focus on how his body felt pressed into hers as the sensation quickly overwhelmed her, and when his grip on her hip tightened, she gasped into his mouth.

"Thomas, wait, I--" She was cut off before she could get the thought out. "Thom-- Mmh--!" He kissed her ardently, reveling in her response to his touch every bit as much as she was reveling in the feeling of it. Regardless, she pulled back, looking him in the eye, and held him off with a hand on his chest. "Let's go in. I'd rather be somewhere a lot warmer and a little more..." --she traced a finger down the lapel of his designer coat with a sly smile, finally using it to pull him closer-- "...private."

"Don't have to tell me twice." He split from her, tugging her alongside him and up the stairs by her hand, and her eyes widened at his frantic movements. She didn't even flinch at first, stunned by how abrupt the action had been, but when he glanced back over his shoulder at her, her fingers already linked between his, she drew in a shuddering breath.

"Let's go."

From there, their night was a blur of heavy jeans and chunky sweaters being scattered across Y/N's bedroom, their coats discarded and long forgotten not three feet past her apartment door. Whatever gods were above seemed to have smiled on her; she and Dolley both striking it lucky on the same night felt too perfect for it to be coincidental, especially as Y/N's bedroom door slammed loudly behind them, her body pinned against its interior moments later.

Every impatient touch was ablaze, brimming with fireworks and crave as her eager hands found their way up his shirt, his curls bouncing when he pulled it over his head.

It was all reckless, every second of it, but as Y/N saw it, what was the worst that could happen? The occasional uncomfortable run-in with Thomas if they passed on the street? That was beyond worth her evening of adrenaline. She gasped when he pushed her back onto her mattress, climbing on immediately after her.

"Thomas," she moaned, threading her fingers into his curls as his lips worked their way down her neck.

"What is it, sweetheart? Hm?"

She squealed when he nipped at her sensitive skin, nails digging into his upper back, but her tense muscles relaxed as he began sucking a hickey into the same spot a moment later. "I need you. Please."

She could feel his smile against her skin, the vibrations of his light chuckle. "Well, since you asked so nicely..." He pulled back as the pads of his fingers dug into her hips, and she inhaled sharply. His eyes were shining, predatory and smug. "How could I say no?"

——————

COME THE NEXT morning -- or, really, the next afternoon -- Y/N was grateful to have escaped without a hangover, completely absent a headache, the light of day not even a bother as it glared past her curtains. However, the minute she tried to sit up, she realized that she certainly had a backache, and she wasn't entirely convinced her legs would be willing to work when she tried to stand.

Realization struck her a moment later; she winced as she sat bolt upright, ignoring the ache in her shoulders when she lunged for her phone. Oh, shit.

"Thomas," she hissed, shoving his snoring body through her comforter. "Thomas, wake up."

He sniffed as he shifted in her bed, trying to speak through his heavy yawn. "What's goin' on?"

"What's going on is that it's almost two o'clock." Her scowl was deep-set as she shoved the covers off of herself, paying him little mind as she began to root through her drawers for something to wear. "And you need to go. I have somewhere to be."

It hadn't occurred to her to be self-conscious as she paced through her room, but when she turned back to see Thomas's lazy stare following her still-naked body, she could feel her cheeks flare. "Get dressed."

"Alright, alright," he said, sleep still heavy in his voice as he reached for his phone where he'd discarded it on his long-abandoned jeans. She didn't see it, busy pulling on underwear and yanking on a hoodie over her the heavily-marked skin of her chest. "Fuck. I'm gonna be late."

She rolled her eyes when his own panic was finally what kicked him into gear, as he began shoving his legs back into his pants in a frenzy. "Jesus, do I need to get home," he muttered to himself, unsteadily typing something into his phone with one hand as he struggled to buckle his belt with the other. "Sorry for crashin', I--"

"It's fine; it was late as all hell," Y/N cut him off, too preoccupied to concern herself with what'd happened the night prior. She was clinging to the desperate hope that her laptop might not be dead as she dug through he drawers for its charger. "When you find all your stuff, you can just go."

"Alright. I..." He glanced to her hesitantly, pausing in his quest to put himself back together before he could flee with his dignity and whatever plans he had for that afternoon still intact. She glanced at him inquisitively in his silence. "I'll see you around, Y/N."

She offered him a small smile before he returned to trying to dig up his sweater, completely oblivious to where he could've possibly tossed it. "Let's hope so."

Those were all the words exchanged before she ducked into her bathroom, began running the shower, and wiped her smeared mascara from where it'd been running down her cheeks. Thomas left with no more pomp or circumstance.

She hardly had time to fix her appearance after she showered, doing the bare minimum before she rushed back to check on the charge her laptop had left. 74% would be enough to make it through her first lecture, right? She didn't waste a second on dwelling.

Her first class was, to her dismay, halfway across campus from her apartment. She hardly slipped into the lecture hall in time, the clock striking 2:59 PM as she took a seat toward the back, quietly greeting the person in the seat beside her as they glanced up from their phone. Maybe her rolling up less than sixty seconds before the lecture began wasn't exactly the best first impression for her, coming in as a 2nd semester junior at a new college, but she'd managed to beat Professor Jefferson, so it appeared she was safe.

It was 3:03 when he showed up; Y/N had just finished convincing the fan on her laptop to stop shrieking, had found a pen nestled into the deepest depths of her bag. She was scrolling absentmindedly through Twitter when the back doors of the lecture hall were thrown open one final time. She didn't look up at first, but his voice made her eyes widen.

"Afternoon, everybody. Hope you've all been doin' well through the long winter." His voice was upbeat as he padded down the carpeted steps toward the desk at the front of the room.

Y/N was fairly sure she was going to be sick, and unfortunately, she had no hangover to chalk it up to. Disbelief permeated her every shaky breath, the feeling trounced only by dread. Her throat had gone dry.

"For anyone who doesn't know me, I'm Professor Jefferson. I started in the political science department this last fall," he said as he reached the floor, loud voice projected through every corner of the hall, tone joking when he added, "And for anyone who's eventually gonna ask, I promise 'm well aware of how young I am."

When he turned around, Y/N's worst fears were realized -- though, she was certainly surprised at how put-together he looked, having left her apartment just one short hour earlier.

"I've spent the past few years workin' in government, but I'm glad to be back in classrooms, even if I'm on the other side of 'em." He set his briefcase down on his desk, looking the room over as he withdrew his papers, opened his laptop. Y/N was sinking progressively further and further down in her chair. "I trust you've all done the assigned readin'?"

He was met with a scattered chorus of yeses and halfhearted noises of affirmation, and he chuckled. "Well, 'm glad to hear you enjoyed 'em so much."

She wasn't sure whether his words being met with soft laughs dispersed throughout the room was because of the sarcasm sitting heavy in his words, or instead because of how contagious his bright grin was.

"Alright, alright, the enthusiasm'll get there. Feel free to pull up the syllabus on whatever you've got with you, but it'll be projected up here as we go through it." The class sounded slightly more awake by then, and while it surely wasn't everyone, Y/N felt confident enough that a decent fraction of the noise was her classmates murmuring with disbelief about how this was their professor, no doubt interspersed with jokes about suddenly taking an intimate interest in political philosophy, capped off with a wink.

But she was no one to judge. Despite being unsure whether her heart was trying to beat its way through her ribcage or if it'd altogether stopped, when Thomas leaned against the front of the desk, arms folded and ankles crossed, she couldn't bring herself to regret the events of the past sixteen hours -- were she given a chance to turn back time, it was a mistake she'd readily make again.

"I'll take any questions as we go on through it," he continued, but that time, as he scanned the crowd, Y/N's luck seemed to have run out. However, though she'd been given the luxury of a gradual realisation, the inevitable punch in the gut of recognition hit him all at once. His eyes locked onto hers, immediately going wide, his expression dropping to one of alarm, and she held his gaze warily.

His silence was a fraction of a second too long, long enough to raise questions, before his self-awareness kicked in, and he picked his jaw up off the floor. The smile he plastered on was riddled with unease. "Hope everything in the course description was clear. I have no doubt this'll be an... excitin' semester."

He played off his shock easily, falling back into his upbeat persona, but as he went on, Y/N felt lucky she'd already read the syllabus — she didn't process a single word out of his mouth. The class was three hours long, and only five minutes into the first day, she’d apparently already slept with her professor.

If this was the semester she had ahead of her, then, well... 'exciting' was certainly a word for it.

247 notes · View notes

marril96 · 4 years ago

Text

Extremely Cuddly, Shockingly Soft and Lovely

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: After helping the Winchesters out with a case, Rowena is being unusually affectionate.

A/N: Based on this prompt by my lovely friend @impala-1979

Editor: @miss-moon-guardian

*****

Of all the ways Rowena could have greeted you, the last thing you expected was a bone-crushing hug. You'd barely said, "Hi," cut off halfway through by her arms around you, squeezing the life out of you. As if it had been months since you'd last seen her as opposed to mere days.

You didn't complain, though, instead returning the hug and squeezing back just as hard. She was warm in your arms. So tiny, so fragile, yes strong beyond belief.

"Well, hello there," you said, breaking into a grin, surprised but welcoming of the strange greeting.

Rowena wasn't a hugger. Or rather, she wasn't much of an initiator. She enjoyed a good cuddle, but she had to be prompted into it. Making the first step was beneath her, though, a few rare times, she allowed herself to snuggle in unprompted.

She'd gone to help Sam and Dean on a case a few days ago, and you were already missing her. The home was empty without her. The bed you shared cold, lifeless. Your body lacking hers to warm up with, to feel safe, at home.

You'd texted and video chatted countless times, but it wasn't the same. Nothing beat having her in your arms, safe and sound.

A part of you regretted not going with her. She'd made it more than clear that you were welcome to accompany her, just like all those times before. Against your heart's wishes, you'd opted not to. It was a fairly simple case, after all. An out of control witch. Nothing the three of them couldn't handle on their own.

You'd regretted that decision the moment the door had closed behind her on her way out.

Codependence wasn't healthy; you were more than aware of that. But still.

But still.

Now that you had her with you, you never wanted to let her go again.

To your utmost surprise, Rowena seemed to share the sentiment.

"Are you okay, baby?" you asked, baffled by the way she clung to you. So tight, a koala clinging to a tree branch. "Did something happen?"

She nuzzled your chest like an overly affectionate cat. "Everything is fine." Her voice was soft, lovely. Cotton candy and silk mixed into one. You wanted to melt in it.

You didn't buy it, but you let it go. Who were you to look gift hugs in the mouth?

"I missed you," you whispered, kissing her hair.

"I missed you, too, darling." She tightened her grip, Pressing her face against your chest.

You enjoyed the moment too much to chastise her for ruining your shirt. Makeup could be washed off. It wasn't every day that your girl initiated affection — to this degree, no less. A dirty shirt was a more than fair price to pay.

As the two of you settled in the living room to talk about her travels, Rowena remained by your side. Literally glued to you, as if you were bound at the hip. As she talked of tracking down the witch and killing her, her head was on your shoulder, one hand firmly in yours, fingers twined in an almost unbreakable knot.

When she got up to make tea, she dragged you with her to the kitchen, one hand on the kettle and the other holding yours. Gripping it with impossible strength so that you couldn't break away.

Your questions if something bad had happened had gone unanswered.

Maybe she'd remembered Lucifer again. Maybe something had triggered her — again, like many times before — along the way, and she didn't want to be alone like she was that day in May of 2017 when he showed up and messed her up for life. When, following a meaningless argument, you'd left to blow off some steam, and had returned to a bloodbath and a charred corpse in the middle of the hotel room.

Maybe she wanted to make sure that you were here. That, this time around, you wouldn't leave. That she wasn't alone.

You didn't have the heart to take it away from her.

So you remained at her side. You allowed her to drag you around the house, to cling to you as she sat beside you. Even when she squeezed too tight and it was hard to breathe, you didn't say a word.

Let her have her fantasy. Let her have her feeling of safety. You'd promised her, after she'd healed, that you would never leave her again, and you intended to make good on it.

Besides, it felt nice to have her so close. It felt nice to snuggle up without having to coax her into it. To, for once in your life, not have to be the instigator. Rowena was affectionate; she loved cuddles and snuggles. She loved kisses and nuzzles and sweet promises of love. Not once did you doubt that she loved you the same way you loved her. She was just different. More closed off, due to her background.

But, gods, you enjoyed this open side of her immensely. However short it may be, you decided to make the most of it.

"I love you, Y/N."

She'd said it multiple times over the last few hours, and you'd returned each one. It was music to your ears, a lullaby you could fall asleep to every night.

Whatever had happened must have shaken her. But she was safe now. That was all that mattered. She would never be unsafe again, not while she was with you. Not while you could wrap her in your embrace and nuzzle her hair and tell her you loved her over and over again, for as long as she was willing to listen. For as long as she was willing to say it back.

To your great surprise, Rowena insisted on making dinner. Your favorite, she said. She would make it exactly as you liked it.

Blinking twice, three times, four, to make sure you hadn't been transported to an alternate reality without noticing, you asked, "Since when do you cook?"

"Can't I treat my girlfriend to a lovely homemade meal every once in a while?" she said, looking through cupboards for the kitchenware. Sorting the items she needed on the island, neatly and in order as she did when she worked on potions.

It was more like once in every few years, but you decided not to comment. Who were you to say no to a homemade meal? It was surely better, much more intimate, than being treated to restaurant dinners (which you always welcomed. Rowena had impeccable taste, and she never failed to impress).

"Okay," you said, still baffled by her behavior. Was she truly shaken up by something, or was something else going on?

Your heart jumped, nervous tingles slipping down the back of your neck like an army of angry ants. Had you forgotten an important date? An anniversary of some sort?

You cleared your throat. Mentally prepared yourself for the ire she would unleash on you for forgetting whatever it was that had taken place on this day. In your defense, you'd never been the best with days. Hopefully, Rowena would take that into consideration before she obliterated you. "Are-are we celebrating something? Did I forget something again?"

Rowena laughed, a sweet, delicious melody. Harmless. "I'm just making you dinner, Y/N." You breathed out in relief, muscles springing free of tension that had strung them stiff. "You're acting as if I never do anything nice for you."

You shrugged, because she didn't. Not like this. She didn't cuddle so much. She didn't make the first move. She didn't tell you she loved you so frequently, so earnestly. She didn't make you dinner from scratch and act like it was the most normal thing in the world.

None of this was normal.

It both scared and intrigued you.

Rowena pouted and, walking over, pressed her forehead to your chest like an injured, attention-starved kitten.

Your heart just about exploded with guilt, with regret that ate at you like acid. "I didn't mean it like that," you said, rubbing her back in the gentlest of circles. What had gotten into her today?

She looked up at you. Narrowed her eyes as if in thought. "I may forgive you if you kiss me."

Seriously? Since when did she ask for a kiss instead of taking it? Since when did she bury her face into your shirt and pout until she got what she wanted?

That was usually your tactic.

"You drive a hard bargain," you teased, cupping her cheeks into your palms with utmost tenderness and laying a kiss, soft as silk, to her forehead. Then one to the tip of her nose, and another, the cherry on top, on her lips.

"Good girl," Rowena said, and, with a flash of a smile, went back to work on dinner. "You're forgiven. For now." She winked.

"You're mean," you told her.

"Me?" she clasped a hand over her heart dramatically. "Never."

Right. She was Miss Goody Two-Shoes. As if. You chuckled.

"Why would I be mean when I love you?"

So she kept saying. You never tired of hearing it, no matter how strange it was. How unlike her.

"To assert dominance?" you joked.

She raised an eyebrow. You blew her a raspberry.

"Mature, darling."

You gave a shrug. "That's just me saying I love you back."

Rowena grinned, and walked over for another kiss. As if she needed the assurance. As if she needed to feel you, to touch you, to make sure you meant it. As if, otherwise, it would all be a lie. You gave in to it because why wouldn't you? Strange as it was, it cost you nothing. When she got over whatever it was she was going through, she would go back to normal. For now, you decided to enjoy this needy, clingy side of her.

The meal turned out incredible. Rowena, by her own choice, wasn't a cook, but when she put her mind to it, she could whip out incredible food. As magical as the potions she always made. Just as crafty, just as professional.

She marveled in your praise as you ate, and pulled you into an embrace as you finished, beaming like the sun on a summer afternoon. Beautiful and bright, without a cloud in sight.

"I really loved it," you said, kissing her cheek to emphasize it. "You should cook more often."

"I shall cook for you every day," Rowena vowed.

You highly doubted that, but you went along with it. "Think you could make filet mignon tomorrow?"

She looked you in the eyes, serious as a storm. "The best you've ever had."

"Deal."

She caressed your scalp. "Why don't you sit here and relax while I clean up?"

You looked at her as if she'd suddenly grown a second head. Since when did she volunteer to clean up? Since when did she look so gleeful at the mere thought of it? Last time she was home, she rolled her eyes all the way through, complaining that there wasn't a spell to speed up the process and vowing to create her own. Tonight was supposed to be your turn to do it. "For real?"

"Aye. Let the food settle, won't you?" She patted your stomach affectionately and started gathering the dirty dishes.

You blinked, baffled. Sure this had to be some sort of a joke, though she appeared one hundred percent serious.

"Okay…" you said, unsure, though you tried not to dwell on it. You were no fan of chores, either.

As she cleared out the table and wiped it, thoroughly, with a cloth, she kissed your forehead, then committed to doing the dishes. Every now and again, she would throw a glance at you, making sure you were still where she'd left you. Making sure you hadn't left.

You were growing to enjoy this side of her. It was odd and different and it would surely not last for more than a few days, at most, but it was sweet. She was sweet; sugary, to a level most people would find disgusting, but you reveled in. You just hoped she eventually told you what was going on. A change like this, you deserved to know the reason for.

A sudden vibrating sound startled you. Your phone, abandoned on the coffee table, was buzzing, the screen flashing as bright as a lamp. Grabbing it, you were surprised to see it was Sam who was calling. You sighed, frustrated. What had happened now? Did the Winchesters need Rowena — again? If so, why didn't they call her? You doubted they wanted your help. Who went to the student when they could go straight to the teacher?

"Hello," you said, uncertain.

"Hey, Y/N." Sam was polite. Friendly as always. You were no fan of hunters, but you appreciated it. Out of them all, he seemed like the most trustworthy. "Has Rowena gotten home?"

"Yup. Hours ago."

Rowena raised an eyebrow. You shot her a smile, prompting her to keep on washing plates.

Sam breathed out loudly. Was that relief you were detecting? "She okay?"

Uh oh. "Is there a reason she shouldn't be?"

"I—"

"We need you to check her pockets," Dean cut in. No nonsense, straight to the point as always.

"Why?" you asked.

"Has she been acting weird?"

Weird would be an understatement. Heart jumping with concern, you said, "Well, I mean, she…" She's been cuddly as an attention-hungry kitten. You cleared your throat. "She's been a bit… odd."

It wasn't something bad, was it?

Cold chills slid down the back of your neck, thin and prickly as needles.

Was it?!

"Check her pockets," Dean told you. "She might be cursed. Jack was acting weird all day, and we just found a hex bag in his pocket."

Cursed? Rowena could be cursed?

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit!

It was obvious, now that you thought about it. Of course she was cursed. Why else would she glue herself to you as if you were conjoined twins? Why else would she volunteer to make dinner for no special occasion — your favorite, at that — and insist that she do the dishes? Why else would she be so fucking squishy?

"On it. Thanks for letting me know."

As soon as you hung up, you were on your feet, heart racing, concern rising. Please, don't be a bad one, you prayed to any deity willing to listen. Please, please, please. The witch they'd faced was powerful, Rowena had told you. Dangerous. Sadistic. A radical change of behavior in her victims was certainly just the beginning.

You had no intention to see how it ended. Enough time had passed already. Hopefully, you'd managed to catch on to it in time, before something serious — something cruel, deadly — took effect.

"A friend?" Rowena inquired, raising a curious eyebrow.

"Sam and Dean."

"Ah. Checking up on me, are they?"

She had no idea.

As you got close, she did what she'd been doing all day and threw her arms around you. You sank into the embrace, let her curl around you like a piece of a puzzle perfectly nesting into place. Your hands slid down to her hips, felt for the pockets of her dress pants. Fingers slithered in as soon as they found them.

Your right fingertip brushed against a rough fabric, and relief instantly flooded you, a welcome, much needed high. Grabbing the small pouch, you threw it down. Swiftly, forcefully, as if it were poison deadly to the touch.

"What are you—" Rowena's eyes trailed yours, widening at the sight of the hex bag. Tiny. The color of rust. Almost harmless, lying all alone, abandoned, on the floor.

You spat, "Ignis." Fire.

The bag instantly burst into flames. Bright and orange, they devoured it, ate it from the inside out like acid, until it was nothing but a pile of ash. Fragile. Easily scattered. Powerless.

Rowena stared at it. She did nothing, said nothing, just stared at the grayish-black remains of the hex bag. Her arms were limp at her sides. Lips tight in an unreadable line.

"Rowena?" you said, concerned. "You okay?"

No reaction. No acknowledgement.

Nothing.

"Baby?"

She swallowed.

You reached for her hand, only to be pushed away. The rejection stung like a slap to the face.

Was this the aftermath of the curse? Was she shaken up about being snapped out of it so suddenly?

"Rowena, sweetie—"

"I was cursed." Her voice was cold. Distant.

"Yup. Sam and Dean said Jack was cursed, and they wanted me to check your pockets, to make sure."

Good thing they did, otherwise… Something would have happened. Something bad. You didn't know what, but you could guarantee it was nothing good. Evil witches didn't hex people who were after them mildly. Rowena, a former evil witch herself, would know that better than anyone.

"But you're okay now," you said. "Right?"

She gave a nod.

At least there was that.

A moment passed in silence, then Rowena uttered, "You didn't notice."

"What?"

"I wasn't myself, and you didn't notice."

Was that offense in her tone?

"It's not like that," you said, guilt lacing your words. "I just figured you were going through some stuff."

She stared at you, incredulous. "Like being cursed?"

She was offended. She was mad.

Shit. You swallowed. "Well…"

Thinking of it now, it was obvious. She hadn't been herself. Had been acting too different, too strange. Too unlike the woman you'd gotten to know in the past six years.

Rowena gasped. Dramatic. Exaggerated. Over the top. Her usual style. You sighed, mentally preparing yourself for the blow up. Here we go.

"How could you not notice? It was right in your bloody face!" she exclaimed in that tone that both intimidated and intrigued you, the one veteran theater actresses would envy. "Do I look like a bloody attention whore?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?"

She scowled as if you'd insulted her. Which, to be fair, you probably had. Raising her forefinger threateningly (not that you were truly afraid.She could be intimidating, but you never feared her), in your face, she snapped, "Don't be a smartarse!"

You shrugged, nonchalant. She was dramatic. You were a smartass. Some things were just facts.

"You liked it, didn't you?"

"What?"

"You liked me slobbering all over you like a diseased cat and waiting on you hand and foot." She crossed her arms. Her expression softened, mellowed into something you couldn't quite put your finger on. Something… sad.

Was that what she thought? That you didn't notice her being cursed because you enjoyed taking advantage of her? That you jumped at the chance?

It was your turn to be offended. "I can't believe you just said that."

"What am I supposed to think?"

"You're supposed to know me better than that."

"You are supposed to know me, as well, and look how that turned out."

Seriously? She was going there? You supposed you shouldn't be surprised; when Rowena kicked, she aimed for the lowest area. Not just because of her height.

"I thought something triggered you while you were working the case!" you exclaimed. "I didn't wanna say anything because I figured you just wanted to cuddle for a day or two, and you'd be back to normal. It's happened in the past!"

You didn't want to bring it up, but if she was going to be a bitch, you might as well make her face the truth. You felt bad for not noticing. Felt guilty. But there have been times, in the past, when she remembered Lucifer, and all she needed was some love, some sense of safety for a little while until the fear subsided. The two of you never talked about it; you'd had a consensus, a wordless agreement to let it happen.

So you let it happen.

It was harmless, usually. Just some cuddles and kisses. How were you to know a curse would make her exhibit the same symptoms?

Rowena had the decency to look ashamed. Eyes falling to her feet, avoiding yours for as much as they could, she said, "I know I'm not the most affectionate person."

"Are you kidding? You're the cuddliest witch I know!" She leveled you with a stare that threatened murder. You grinned. She rolled her eyes. "I'm serious. I admit, it was nice to see you take more of an initiative, but I don't think there's anything… lacking with the way you usually are. I wouldn't have you any other way."

She cracked a small smile. "Sap."

"You made me do it!" you accused jokingly.

She sighed. "What am I going to do with you?"

"How about a hug?" She gave you a look, one of those she reserved for when you did something incredibly stupid and she had no words to encompass it. "Please?"

"Maybe a small one," she relented after a moment of thought.

Giggling, you threw your arms around her and squeezed as hard as you could.

"Y/N!" Rowena protested.

"I can't help it!" you said, ecstatic. "You're just so squishy!"

"And you're mean!" she whined.

You could live with that.

She pouted for a few seconds before returning the hug and nestling comfortably against you, exactly where she belonged. Safe and sound and, most important of all, content. Happy, though she would never say it out loud.

"Say, Rowena..." you said, uncertain how to best approach the issue. "About that filet mignon you promised…"

"Don't even think about it."

You figured as much.

But it was okay. Because she was okay. She was unharmed. Herself. Yours, exactly as she was, with all her sides, good and bad.

Overly affectionate or not, she would always be your girl. There wasn't a single thing she could do to make you love her less. Laughter, tears, joy, grief, happiness, fear; you'd been through it all, and hadn't regretted a thing. Would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

But… damn, you were really looking forward to that filet mignon.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @shadowgirl-vsb @rowenaswife @wonderifshelikesroses @xfireandsin @liddell-alien @hotdiggitydammit @lae-lae @darkhumorsblog @angel7376 @cherrypierowena @evil-regal-vampiress @hellbentredhead @angel-e-v-a @a-queen-and-her-throne @carryon-doctor-lock @fangirlxwritesx67 @theeasterbilby @midnight-lestrange @osterhagen @impala-1979 @gracib16 @feelsandotps

#rowena #rowena macleod #spn #supernatural #spn family #rowena x reader #rowena macleod x reader #my fics #fanfiction

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st-agatha-city · 3 years ago

Text

St Agatha Gazette, Issue #2 🐇

Hello, citizens of St. Agatha - we meet again! Welcome to our second ever weekend update! Things have been choo-choo-chuggin' along! 🚂 Been taking it a little easier the past couple of days (though not on purpose, and not by choice >:P) due to finally getting my second vaccine and coming down with symptoms disorder.

On a bittersweet note, I just had a job interview that went well! So yay~! I might soon again be able to work, and worry less about rent and other fun things! ^^ But this could mean updates will be slowing a little - and I do mean as little as I can help it! Working on St. Agatha City has been such a positive force in my life!

Alrighty, on to the updates!

Traffic

With the exception of yesterday, the usual three hours per day have been successfully spent plugging away at St. Agatha City! A lot of the usual writing, coding, and art, but also researching the more complex features I hope to implement! A map system (which I will be showing off a little tomorrow~), an inventory, and a phone with a basic call function, so you can contact characters you bond with throughout the game, and maybe instigate events that way. Out of those three, though, the latter is on the lower end of priority, but the first two are confirmed and in development :)

I've been making use of the developer communities, as well as Ren'Py (the software I'm using to make St. Agatha City) forums to reach out with my questions to more skilled (and very kind, patient) users, who have been an absolutely huge help!

And thanks to alpha testers like my boyfriend, and our very own community member, @sugarcoatedsadism, things have been progressing nicely! Edits are being made, and new content is being added almost daily.

Weather

Enjoying the sun, citizens? I know I have! From inside, coding, at least ^^ It looks like it's due to be cloudy this upcoming week, at least through this weekend. But good news! With the map mentioned last week being slowly but surely being implemented, I will happily be turning my focus to an inventory system, as the new navigation system develops.

And, most excitingly, with more places to go, there will be more characters to meet! Expect, as my time allows, new character intros, art, and places around St. Agatha to be revealed!

Sports

The end of last week marked a big play, sports fan, and a big win! You'll be hearing more about this tomorrow, at noon, but I can show you a messy little sneakpeak of the basic design!

Now, it looks... a little rough at the moment, as it is only a placeholder example for me to experiment with, but with new research happening shortly, I'll be designing something that resembles the intended product relatively soon, which will be a lot closer to what is released with the finished game :)

You will be able to preview some of the locations that will be available to you to explore, interact with other characters, and answers to the different questions Pixy's time in St. Agatha causes.

I am super excited to go over it with you guys, with a more detailed fly by! See you at the game! Go... team...!

Closing Thoughts

I am happy to say that, after a week, I am still at it! St. Agatha City is progressing consistently, and just earlier this week I was able to release enough content to do an Alpha Demo Test with some friends, and get Chapter 0 looked over by an editor. It's small, but I am proud. I admittedly have a history of instability that has caused finishing projects to be difficult - but commitment to St. Agatha City is a point of pride to me. Creating it has helped me feel a sort of peace I really haven't before.

Speaking of Chapter 0 - once the map is done, all that's left is some writing, sprites, art fixes, and some final touches! Maybe, after some editing, I could release it as a demo for the public to try! :) that would be an amazing stretch goal. I think then I could feel confident opening a ko-fi perhaps, as I would now have an actual product that has been delivered, and more on the way!

Thanks again, for all of your kindness, support, and excitement. Stay safe out there, citizens! And have a great weekend!

~ Fairyfly

#st agatha city #st agatha gazette #visual novel #dating sim #game development

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breanime · 5 years ago

Note

Hi Bre! Thank you for doing more drabbles and I hope you get all the recognition you deserve! Can you please do Billy Russo and “Person A has a few friends over at their house to hang out. One friend (Person B) says that they’re not feeling very well so Person A lets them take a nap in their bed”? ❤️

Billy Russo, the least friendly of all your friends, was having a get together at his house. He’d just finished remodeling his penthouse (an endeavor that you decided was for rich people), and he wanted to show it off to his friends. So he asked you all to come over for drinks, and even though you were feeling a little sick, there was no way you were going to miss out on hanging out with your crush—

—your friend…. Just a friend…

You spent a lot of time at Billy’s place, and while the remodeling was going on, he spent a lot of time at yours. But now that you were seeing the results of the remodeling—you were impressed.

“A man of wealth and taste,” Curtis said, laughing as he clinked glasses with Billy.

“I didn’t think this place could get any swankier,” Karen said, “and yet…”

Billy grinned; you hadn’t seen him this happy in a long while. You were proud of him. Billy, you knew, was his own hardest critic. No matter how much money he earned, or how many penthouses he owned, Billy would always see himself as that unclaimed, unloved orphan boy who was thrown from group home to group home. “You know, Y/N helped me pick some of this shit out,” he said, turning to you. His smile fell. “You alright?”

You blinked over at him. You had been leaning on one of the counters, and your head was starting to pound. “I don’t feel so good…”

Billy was in front of you in a second, the back of his hand pressed down on your forehead. “I thought I told you to see a doctor,” he said.

You scoffed, leaning into his touch. “And I thought I told you that I just needed to rest.”

“But did you?” He asked, hand moving to cup your cheek.

“You know damn well she didn’t,” Frank said, instigating with a grin on his face, “she’s the female version of you: won’t stop till she drops.”

“Well,” Billy’s hand was on the small of your back now, “you’re stopping now, c’mon.”

“Noo!” You whined. “I’m not going to the doctor—it’s just a cold—”

“I’m not taking you to the doctor,” he explained as he led you out of the kitchen and through the living room, “I’m taking you to bed.”

Your cheeks heated up as Frank, Curtis, and Karen all cheered and “ooh”ed in the background. “Wha—why—”

“You’re taking a nap,” he said, leading you to his room, “and if you’re still not feeling better, than we’re going to the doctor.”

You had no response to that, and even if you did, how could you articulate it when Billy was pulling the comforter back and laying you in his bed? How could you do anything but stare as he was covering you with the blanket and tucking you in.

“You need anything?” He asked you, his voice low. “Water? Somethin’ to eat? I got medicine…”

You shook your head. “No, I’m good… Thanks, Billy.”

He nodded, standing up straight. He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead, he just licked his lips. “Hey,” he said, eyes looking anywhere but at you, “I just…. You are…” He cleared his throat. “You mean a lot to me.” He leaned down and dropped a kiss to your warm forehead. “Get some rest.”

And with that, he left you to nap. You stared at the door once he’d left, eyes wide and heart pounding until finally you forced yourself to close your eyes, thinking of Billy. You were already feeling better as you laid on his cool sheets with his kiss still warm on your skin, and your eyelids were getting heavy as you thought of Billy’s dark eyes. You could hear the soft sounds of conversation and laughter in the distance, and you fell asleep to the sounds of happiness.

Later, when you woke up, the first thing you noticed was that you were feeling better. You didn’t have a headache and you felt well rested. The second thing you noticed was arms around your waist.

You turned slightly, eyes wide, to see Billy lying behind you, his eyes closed as he slept. A quick glance at the nightstand told you that it was late, and you guessed that everyone had gone home. You shifted, unsure of what to do, and Billy’s grip on you tightened.

“You feelin’ any better?” He asked, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck.

“Mm hmm…”

“Good.” His hands were on top of yours, resting on your stomach. “Cause tomorrow we’re going on a date,” he informed you, “And after that…” you could hear the grin in his voice. “…we’re gonna sleep together for real.”

You laughed, and Billy reached over and kissed your ear. You went back to sleep, dozing off easily in Billy’s arm, looking forward to what the next day would bring.

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

I ain’t even gonna lie, I was way too distracted by this movie “Carriers” (starring Chris Pine and Emily Van Camp!) while I was writing this. Thanks for reading!

Everything Taglist: @encounterthepast @jigsawlover10 @gollyderek @charlylama @realduckvader @teacuplotus @whovianayesha @lexxierave @loveintheroyalfamily @fanfictionrecommendations-com @maxslime-blog @songforhema @lucielandss @themadhatter92 @christinawxxx @anabella-baby @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @luminex3 @ashkuuuu @luckysstrikes @carlaangel86 @floralpeaceofmind @dylanobrusso @iaintnofurry @ymariejp @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @mrsjaxtellerfan @holamor @drinix @rhabakoli @stories-you-wont-hear @king4thesirens @leahnicole1219 @evanlys19 @binbons-is-theloml @aikeia @bitch-imma-head-out @witchygagirl

Benny B Taglist: @suchatinyinfinity @fandomlifeandeverythingelse @starkrobb @elanor-of-imladris @thesumofmychoices @marauderskeeper @honeyydippaa @thebabblingbookworm @khuangpu13 @ladyblablabla @woodlandreads @ms-delos @belladonnarey @thesandbeneathmytoes @georgiagrl1990 @kahlanmars @the-blind-assassin-12

Benny B Taglist (minus Sirius): @banditthewriter @something-tofightfor

#Billy Russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo #breanime's drabble event part two

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chosenkeepersworld · 4 years ago

Text

A Gatekeeper's Mission (Part 1)

Original Work Word Count: 1856 words Date Posted: March 31, 2021 Author’s Note: Unbeta’d but I hope you guys still like it and as always I love hearing your thoughts about my work so comments are always appreciated.

Their story was not what most people would consider conventional. They had their own roles to play, separate from each other. But an unexpected event forces them to meet and set off a chain of events that changes not only their worlds but the entire universe.

“The Prima would like to speak with you” upon hearing those words Andromeda Castel froze. It wasn’t often that the leader of their faction would personally be the one to speak with anyone lower than her superiors. “She would like to speak with both of you actually” Andromeda instantly exchanged looks with Astrid, her friend and partner.

The pair stood to follow the guard. The facility was bustling with activity, there were always Gatekeepers arriving and leaving, usually those coming and going from worlds and missions. There were tours happening for those in the academy and a few petty criminals being brought in.

They eventually stopped in front of The Prima's office. The guard knocked and after a beat a voice told them to come in.

The girls exchanged nervous glances for a brief moment again before entering the room. The Prima was seated at her desk going over documents. Andromeda and Astrid waited for her to turn her eyes on them. The Prima’s call was always important, as the leader of their island’s defense and as Gatekeepers it was necessary to heed her call.

Andromeda took the moment to take in The Prima’s office, it was not what she expected. Besides the desk the only other furniture were the four bookcase, two on either side of the office, a small table behind it to entertain guests and something covered and circular in shape in the middle of the room.

“Thank you for coming,” The Prima finally said, causing both girls to jump in surprise.

“I-it is an honor to be summoned by you, Prima.” Astrid stuttered, straightening her posture.

The older woman gestured to the chairs in front of her desk “Please, sit”

The pair took their seats, The Prima clasped her hands together and settled them on the table. “I have a situation that I would like for you two to handle.” she began. “There was an incident that happened in one of the Outer Worlds, there were reports of a foreign creature being spotted.”

“And you would like us to investigate?” Astrid asked.

“Yes” The Prima confirmed “and to instigate peace with the people who live in the area”

The two young women shared concerned looks then turned back to the older woman “What do you mean?”

Said older woman sighed “The inhabitants are incredibly territorial and are not very trusting outsiders. They are more likely to attack first and ask questions later. The creature attacked them and escaped, this only made the inhabitants more distrustful of anyone who approached. They have made more efforts in defending their territory. They can be quite dangerous.

“I thought that it would be a good idea to send in a small group of Gatekeepers rather than a large team. It’s likely the inhabitants will be more at ease with your presence if your numbers are fewer, even though it might make the investigation more difficult.”

She raised her head to look at her subordinates. She had been watching their progress carefully, she had her reasons for doing so. Castel had always done well while she was at the academy and that continued when she became an official Gatekeeper, it was important to keep track of the consistent ones, especially when her tests are way above average.

And she could admit that she watched and kept track of Astrid Verano for personal reasons. The pair made very good work together and actually got along with each other. The Prima believed that, with their skills and teamwork, they could handle this situation.

“This may be a difficult and dangerous mission, in addition to the circumstances you will have to be on site until the creature is caught. There will be no one else to assist you while you are there. If there is a need for back-up, it may not arrive for some time. You will only have each other to rely on, can you handle that?”

It was no lie. The Prima had been keeping an eye on the situation and it was truly going to be an arduous mission if they were willing. Andromeda was surprised that the older woman thought of them for this mission. The young woman, if she were to be honest, was proud of her achievements during her days at the academy, along with her own skills as a Gatekeeper allowed her to reach her current ranking. But considering the risks of this mission, she and Astrid really needed to discuss this.

Astrid and Andromeda shared concerned looks before the latter turned to the older woman “Is it alright if we discuss this first, Prima? This is an important decision after all”

The Prima nodded her head “Of course.” She glanced at the monitor on her desk and stood “I need to check on something important but I will need an answer from you by tomorrow.”

The three women made their way out of The Prima’s office but before they went their separate ways The Prima turned to Astrid “Tell your grandfather I’ll be home for dinner. If there are leftovers from lunch, heat those up as well”

The red headed young woman couldn’t help but chuckle “Of course, grandmother. I’ll see you at home”

“You are absolutely sure about this? No changing minds after we tell her” Andromeda said.

The partners had been discussing their options since last night and after had come to agreement as they came into work. The pair headed to The Prima’s office to give them their answer.

“I already told you how I felt about this. It’s a good opportunity to do more than just staying around the island and catching petty criminals. We get to go off world, do our jobs and show them that Gatekeepers are their allies”

Andromeda grinned. When she first arrived in this world as a child, seeing so many different people of all sorts of species was unnerving. She had accepted the invitation to train as Gatekeeper which granted her permission to live and stay in this world until her training was finished.

Learning about this new world and the world around her was thrilling. Experiencing it was even more so. To be responsible for the protection of your own world was a gigantic responsibility and to help protect a world not your own was an honor.

This was a lesson Andie had learned, but one Astrid grew up with. This mission was a start for them, it was their chance for them to do something more. The two young women paused to knock on the Prima’s door.

A little while later the three women had moved to the small table behind the older woman’s desk, they had tea and some small snacks brought in as they continued to discuss the details of the mission.

“The mission is scheduled for the following week, which means the two of you will need to up your training regiment until the mission. We will have your schedules adjusted to accommodate more time for training.”

The pair nodded “We’ll take more time for training”

“I think that covers what you’ll need to prepare for this. Do you have any questions?”

Andromeda perked up at that “Yes, Prima.” she shot a glance at Astrid before turning back to the older woman “You told us about the inhabitants of that world. What makes them dangerous?”

The Prima stared at her granddaughter’s partner for a moment before bringing up her folded hands to rest under her chin “They are an old species, girl” she began “One of the first creatures born from the First Gods. When they first arrived, they were going purely on animal instinct, vicious predators that burned everything they couldn’t eat. Even worse, when they began to develop intelligence. They learned how to think and speak eventually learning how to change forms”

“Dragons” Andromeda breathed to which the Prima nodded in response.

“Correct. Which is what you both will be dealing with.” she paused for a moment “Yeah, you’ll need to study about them. I think there are a few books in the archives about this world and the specific species in the area where the foreign creature was spotted. There is much for you to do, ladies”

They truly did have their work cut out for them.

Andromeda was screaming. The hardest part of using the Gates to travel was the exit. The exits appear where they wanted no matter where you make the opening. It could be in a nice meadow, in the ocean, in a volcano or even in the sky. Causing you to fall to your death.

Which is what Andie is currently dealing with. And anyone in her position would most definitely be screaming. She had no control of her body, her heart was racing and her stomach felt out of place in her body.

The young woman finally angled her body to face the world below her, only to a dense forest below her. She crashed through leaves and branches, letting out small shrieks and grunts. Andie finally managed to grab hold of a branch and made to lift herself up when a body crashed down on her and both of them landed on to the forest floor.

Andromeda groaned as she lay on her back, her body aching but at least her heart was slowing down and no longer felt like it would burst out of her chest. She sucked in greedy breaths then turned her head to see her partner’s condition. Astrid looked fine, visibly at least they would need to find shelter first to make sure there really was nothing serious.

The two got up and started making their way through the forest, keeping alert for any signs of the inhabitants or the creature they were meant to capture. “If you see any place we can stay in for the night just let me know. I need to just make sure we aren’t being followed or hunted.” Andromeda took off one of her gloves and slowly approached the closest tree.

She took a deep breath and quietly muttered “Lend your sight, old, wise one. Allow me to see your world the way you do and protect it in any way I can.” Nature was sacred to Keepers of the Gate, respect for all life was something they always kept in mind when being in any world.

The brunette young woman placed her hand upon the trunk and in an instant her sight changed. Her vision tinged with green and all she could see were the trees and the environment surrounding them. She jumped from tree to tree and sure enough there was no animal or any human like creature following them. Andromeda lowered her hand and her vision was back to normal. The raven haired woman turned only for something hard hit her head then there was only darkness.

#writeblr #creative writing #original writing #short story #original character #unbeta'd #critique welcome #A Gatekeeper's Mission #Gatekeepers #Gatekeepers part 1

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freudensteins-monster · 4 years ago

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The Governess and the Liesmith - Chapter Four

FIC SUMMARY: Sigyn finds herself accepting the position of governess to Prince Loki’s children. She quickly endears herself to them, despite her firm hand, but the closeness and trust she worked so hard for is threatened by the return of the children’s notoriously absent father. RATING: T AUTHORS NOTES: This is the last completed chapter I have and I can't possibly say when the next one will be ready (considering it took me four years to get to this point). If you have any thoughts on what you'd like to see (other than Loki at some point :P), things you'd like Sigyn and the children to do etc, feel free to add them in the comments. Who knows, they might inspire me to be to churn out a few new paragraphs ;) Thanks for the love and the continued support xoxox

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Sigyn heard the children long before she saw them, the group babbling excitedly to each other as they made their way into the nursery. Queen Frigga followed, smiling to herself as her grandchildren immediately made the most of their free time. For Einmyria and Jörmungandr it meant jumping onto their respective beds with a new book on seiðr brought back from their lessons, for the other children it meant playing with dolls and building blocks and, in Eisa’s case, trying to set them on fire without anyone noticing. A raised eyebrow and a stern look from both Sigyn and Queen Frigga stopped her cold but Sigyn knew perfectly well which of the older women her new charge was showing deference to.

“The uniform fits well, I take it,” Queen Frigga noted happily as she gave Sigyn a once over.

“Yes, it fits perfectly, your majesty. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, though I still think I should be thanking you,” she said, her eyes moving over her assembled grandchildren. “It’s no easy task I have assigned you.”

“Perhaps not,” Sigyn conceded. “But I will endeavour to take care of them to the best of my abilities. Whether they like it or not,” she added under her breath, earning an unladylike snort of laughter from her queen.

“I wish you the best of luck,” the queen said before stepping forward to say goodnight to the children. “Please be good for Sigyn,” she added sternly before taking her leave.

Left alone with her new charges, Sigyn did her best to ignore her nerves as she wandered about the room attempting to engage the children in casual conversation hoping to learn more about them. Eisa, Hela, and Fenrir were building a tower out of blocks - a grand castle in their minds, and were playing out mock battles and daring rescues with their toys. Eisa always played the queen (or the enchantress, or the poor scullery maid who was really a princess), Fenrir always played the brave hero (who always had a loyal warwolf at his side), and Hela always played the evil monster who was secretly good (or cursed, or just scared of the hero). She asked Jörmungandr and Einmyria about the books they were reading and the things they learnt with their grandmother, and while Jörmungandr all but ignored her questions claiming she wouldn’t understand, Einmyria became almost as animated as her sister as she recalled the new spell she had learnt and talked at length about the famous witch in her book.

Their conversation had to be tabled when six bells chimed throughout the wing, signaling the arrival of children’s dinner. With slightly less grumbling than there had been at lunch Sigyn managed to get the children to wash up and seated just as the kitchen maids had finished setting the table.

Sigyn thanked the maids as they headed for the door, and after she pointedly cleared her throat at her charges they followed her example. “Thank you!”

The meal was more or less as chaotic as dinner with her own siblings and made Sigyn terribly homesick. If she had known when she had left that morning that she wasn’t going to be returning she would have hugged them all so tightly before she left. With a soft sigh she shook off her feelings of nostalgia and focused on her charges as she made short work of her own meal.

By the time Sigyn had set down her cutlery the children had all but finished too. Fenrir had licked his own plate clean and was now finishing off the meat that Einmyria had pushed to the side of her plate, Eisa had made a paste out of her roasted pumpkin but Sigyn suspected she hadn’t eaten a bite of it, and Hela was grimacing as she bravely tried to finish her green beans.

“All done?” Sigyn asked, putting poor Hela out of her misery. “Then I think it’s bathtime.”

Thirty minutes later five squeaky clean children and one drowned rat of a governess exited the bathroom.

Sigyn instigated quiet time to run out the clock before bedtime. Einmyria and Jörmungandr returned to their books while Eisa and Fenrir huddled on the floor between their two beds with their toys. Hela tugged on Sigyn’s skirts, leading her over to her bed. Sigyn helped the girl up onto her bed and helped her get comfy. Hela patted a space next to her encouraging Sigyn to take a seat next to her. Before Sigyn could ask her what she wanted Hela pulled a well worn book of fairy tales out from under her pillow.

“Would you read me a story?” Hela asked.

Sigyn took the children’s storybook in hand, tentatively opening it to the first page, her eyes stumbling over the title.

“I’m afraid I don’t know my letters very well,” Sigyn confessed quietly, her body tensing as she felt five pairs of eyes staring back at her.

“You can’t read?” Einmyria exclaimed in utter horror, hugging her own book tightly.

“What did you expect?” Jörmungandr snorted. “She’s just a stupid farm girl.”

“I am not stupid,” Sigyn replied coldly. “I know how to shoe a horse, milk a cow, mend clothes, and plow a field. I know when to plant seeds and when to harvest crops. I can hunt game and prepare it for eating. I know how to make bread, cheese, stews, and dozens of other things. Just because I didn’t read about such things in books does not make me stupid.”

Jörmungandr broke eye contact first, burying his nose in his own book. The heavy silence that followed was broken by a curious Fenrir.

"You can really hunt game?"

"Trapping rabbits mostly. Sometimes pheasants.”

"Fenrir caught a rabbit once in wolf form. And ate it raw," Einmyria shook her head in disgust.

"I didn't mean to," Fenrir whined. "It made me sick for a week."

"Well, perhaps next time, once you've caught the rabbit you should turn back into a boy and cook it first."

"You know how to cook rabbit?"

"Of course."

“Can you make biscuits?”

Sigyn had to stifle a laugh. “Of course. I like making ginger snap cookies, but my favourite thing to make is a steamed pudding with homemade raspberry jam.”

“Now I’m hungry again,” Fenrir huffed, burrowing into his blankets.

Sigyn did laugh then but settled down when a small hand touched hers.

“I could read it to you, if you want?” Hela offered nervously, unable to meet Sigyn’s eyes, her fingers picking at the worn edges of the much loved book.

“I would like that very much,” Sigyn replied earnestly, her smile growing wider as Hela moved to give Sigyn space on her bed. “What is the book called?”

“East of the Sun and West of the Moon,” Hela recited slowly, following the words with a small finger as she read them out. She turned the page and pointed to the first sentence. “Do you know what that says?”

“Those words I know,” Sigyn smiled. “Once upon a time.”

Hela nodded in agreement before repeating them and then reading aloud until her eyes grew heavy towards the end of the first chapter. Eight bells chimed and Sigyn marked the page with a ribbon, and Hela was asleep before Sigyn had put the book away. Sigyn tucked her in and then went around the room securing the windows, dimming the lights, tucking the rest of the children in and prying books from more stubborn hands.

“It’s past eight bells, Jörmungandr. Time for bed.”

“I’m not tired,” he grumbled petulantly.

“But you will be tomorrow if you don’t go to sleep now,” Sigyn countered, waiting patiently by his bed until he handed over the heavy book with a long title Sigyn wasn’t even going to attempt to read. “Goodnight,” she said as she exited the room earning a few sleepy ‘goodnights’ and one angry huff in return.

Sigyn closed the nursery doors and then moved to the main doors. There was no lock or barring mechanism that she could see so instead she pulled the doors open and stuck her head out.

“Yes, miss?” an older guard stationed outside the door queried.

“Do they not secure the nursery doors at night?”

“No need, miss. It’s the most secure wing of the castle and only guards handpicked by Odin himself are stationed outside the royal bedchambers at night.”

“Only the most loyal and trustworthy, I take it.”

“Naturally, miss.”

“You can call me Sigyn. And your name would be?”

“Amund, Miss Sigyn,” he teased. “Gunnarr and I are on night duty this month,” he added, nodding to the younger, more serious guard stationed across the way.

“Well met,” Sigyn greeted before turning back to Amund. “The children are abed and I will be turning in shortly as well. You are not to permit entry to anyone until morning.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Miss Sigyn.”

“Goodnight,” Sigyn smiled and pulled the doors closed, checking the nursery door one last time before retreating to her own room. She undressed and hung up her uniform to dry, changing into an old nightgown from home. It was soft in a way that only a garment worn every night for a year could be but it still could not compare to the silky softness of the sheets on her new bed. Sigyn rested her head on the plump pillow and was asleep in seconds.

TAGGING: @storylover92 @marveil @dreamdancer19 @thefangirl33 @anonanonfrances @contains-cinnamon @jackiattacki @sarabeth72 @hiddlestoncentral @annamegatron @angelus80 @dearmisterhiddles @writernotwaiting @ishoutmarcoandyoushout @hallotom @mrshiddelston @lolomonster @bellafagoaga1812 @stormieandateacup @beautifullydamned16 @hardtopickausername @lorrmorr @antyc67 @ladyninasayers-ish @ladymirtilla @marvelousmissfit @yoursophiebelle @xunconquerableheartx @iamwhoidecidetobe @tinaferraldo @larouau12 @hiddles-is-a-fallen-angel @lokilockedcougar @pollution-brown-eyes @loveshiddles4everme @mrsmalcontent @just-call-me-your-darling @inkededucatednnerdy @vampire-marie @whenweareallalone @captain-biryani @larouau12 @sweetsigyn @scarlettsoldier @mypreciousmind1 @wonderinthewoods @thecrownedrose @ohbvcks @echantedbytwh @omninocte @texmexdarling

#the governess and the liesmith #loki/sigyn #logyn #loki #sigyn #loki's kids #freudensteins-fics

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astralaffairs · 4 years ago

Text

voltaire to versace 01 | thomas jefferson TEASER

title: voltaire to versace 01

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader

words: abt 7k

warnings: implied sex, heavily suggestive content but nothing explicit, hella teasing, dolley madison | full part drops at 8 pm EST

desc: from niccolò machiavelli to fernández de moratín, descartes to dante, your political philosophy seminar doesn’t promise to be a blowout — and yet, one mysterious stranger and a risqué evening later, second semester seems well on its way to becoming your own personal inferno.

tags: tbd, but lmk if you want on the taglist

“THIS IS REALLY the place?" Y/N was looking around skeptically, struggling to believe that the dirty, dank alley she'd been led into was was the entrance to Dolley's favorite spot in town. Had Dolley decided to murder her now that her name was on the lease, if only for the insurance payout? Had she been dealing with the mafia? Maybe she'd changed more in the past year or so than Y/N thought.

"Do I ever steer you wrong?" Dolley asked, eliciting a heavy sigh from the other woman.

"Too often to try and count."

"Sometimes," Y/N repeated, unconvinced.

When they emerged just moments later, Y/N decided fairly quickly that she liked it. It was quaint, old-fashioned, but a warm, charming space.

"...but that was when the cops showed up."

"But there's no more to tell! No one stuck around to get arrested. We were on the steps of the library, for heaven's sake."

"So you just left? How'd you get away?"

"Oh," Dolley giggled, a hand resting on your knee as she leaned toward you in her short fit of laughter. "Well, I just ran for it, and very nearly got myself hopelessly lost. A grad student ended up letting me hide out in the library until it all cleared up."