s.p. characters x reader

Cordelia Goode x Reader

OKAY a few things: I'm sorry I haven't updated in fucking forever, my life has been chaos. I had this idea a little while based on a dream I had, and I'm not sure if I want to have a few separate parts or not, so... stay tuned I guess. This storyline will not be surrounding a romantic relationship, because I just think it would be weird in this context. So yeah. mwah. 

(Cordelia is an art teacher, y/n has a rough home life and their mom is usually absent, so they spend most of their spare time in the art studio with Cordelia)

You had been sitting in Ms.Goode's office for hours now, talking with her about art and different ideas you had for final projects in her class. She was an excellent teacher, and you loved having her input when working on your paintings or drawings, because, as it turns out, she usually said something brilliant and caused you to have strokes of inspiration. Right now, in fact, you are slouched over your sketchbook, in the chair next to her desk that she had fondly titled your designated spot, and your pencil is flying across paper as you spill your emotions onto the page. You aren't sure how long you have been sitting like this, but you are startled out of your strange as you hear the click of heels approach from your left. 

"Y/n, we've talked about this...that position can NOT be good for your back. Sit up straight darling." With a quick huff, you shift your position, and look back to your teacher, arching your brow in question. She chuckles slightly at your antics, before sitting down at her desk, next to your chair. This was where you found yourself most days after school, sketching or reading, with Ms.Goode marking art projects or writing emails beside you. It had quickly become your favourite way to calm down, especially when the stress of academics or your home life began to take a toll on your mental health. And Ms. Goode, who had no children and had never been the dating type, found herself enjoying your company. You had become, in a way, a fixture in her life, and as much as you hated opening up to people, you found yourself becoming rather attached to the teacher who had taken you under her wing, much preferring her presence rather than the girls who were your age, who always seemed to be either high or extremely hung over. 

You and Cordelia settle into a comfortable silence, with you sketching out ideas and jotting down notes, and her clicking away at her computer, emailing coworkers and parents. School had ended nearly two hours ago, but as usual, you weren't expected home, and Ms.Goode was perfectly content with having you work next to her, occasionally asking how your ideas were coming along and offering her insight. Your head jerks up from it's focused position as you hear Cordelia's chair slide backwards and you see her tall figure stand. "Y/n, I completely forgot but I have a meeting. It will only last about an hour, please feel free to stay here as long as you would like." You smile up at her, and give her a soft smile of thanks, and lean back in your chair as she walks away.

You don't realize you have even fallen asleep until you feel a gentle hand brushing over you forehead, a maternal gesture you can only wish you had ever received from your own mother, and Ms.Goode's soft voice speaking your name. Realizing what had happened, you jolt out of your stupor and begin murmuring profuse apologies. "I'm- oh my god I am so so sorry, I was tired all day but I just didn't want to go home and-" "Y/n, shhhh it's okay. When I got back from my meeting you were asleep, but I figured I would just let you rest for a while. I only woke you because I need to go home and eat some dinner." You nod, and rise up from your seat, dreading your return to your house. Your mom had been angry the last few days, resulting in her staying out well past 3am, and occasionally overnight, doing who knows what. Sure enough, as you pull your phone from your pocket, you find a text from your mother, telling you not to expect her home tonight, and that you would have to sort yourself out for the next few days. 

Tears well up in your eyes as you push your sketchbook and pencil case into your backpack, you really don't want to go home. Nowhere feels as safe as it does here, nobody makes you feel as cared for than Ms.Goode. As you sling your bag over your shoulder, and wave a goodbye to your teacher, you accidentally lock eyes with her. They're like chocolate, full of kindness and love and wisdom. And now, upon noticing your tears, concern. "Y/n, darling, are you alright?" she questions you, worry apparent in her voice. You don't trust your voice to hold steady, you know it will shake and you'll break down, so you simply nod, walking as quickly as your legs will carry you, through the empty halls of your school, and out the front door. It was just then, however, that you realize you have no way home. Your mom is god knows where, your friends are probably all out partying, and even if they were available to drive you home, you don't want to be a burden. Letting tears fall down your face, you sink to the ground on the rough cement of the curb, burying your face in your shaking hands as you begin to cry.

It's like a dam has burst, and try as you might, you just can not seem to stop crying. You're not sure how long has passed, in fact, when you feel a body sit on the curb next to you, wrapping careful arms around you and surrounding you with the scent of familiar perfume.