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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 4 months

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Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 2

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: Nothing major. Kissing. Pining. Lusting. 😁

Word Count: 5,192

A/N: Here is the next chapter. I hope you're enjoying this 1900s Dean x Reader AU. Thanks for all your kind words about Ch. 1.

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Dean visited the library at the same time for the next two days, hoping Y/N would be spending Lucy's nap time there again. But she didn't show up. He saw her only briefly when she came to dinner every evening. However, she rarely spoke and left quickly at the end of the meal. She was always polite, always answered any question put to her, but mostly she kept her head bowed demurely and stayed silent.

On the evening of his second day, as soon as Y/N was out of the dining room, Jessica walked up to Dean and punched him in the arm.

He shot her a glare as she moved off to help Sophie, their kitchen maid, clear the table. "What was that for?" he asked.

"What did you do to her?" Before he could defend himself Jessica put a hand up to stop him. "No, don't try to look innocent. Before your arrival we were making headway with Y/N. She'd been so painfully shy when she first got here. It was all, 'Yes, Sir’ and ‘Yes, Ma'am'. She'd finally begun to call me Jessica, but now I'm back to being Ma'am. And she barely speaks now! What did you do?"

Dean shrugged and gave his most innocent look. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Jessica rolled her eyes and moved off to the kitchen. Sam watched his wife walk out of the room before confronting Dean.

"Look, you know I don't tell you how to live your life. I walked away from Father's life, and you took it onto your shoulders. You get all the pressure, all the societal gossip, all the responsibility of keeping the family business afloat. For all of that, I figure that you're entitled to do as you choose in your personal life."

Sam ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "But Dean, don't mess around with this woman. She's kind and innocent and she doesn't deserve to be yanked around by you, or left broken-hearted."

Dean frowned. Did his brother really think he went around ruining women and breaking their hearts? "You wound me, Sammy." He said, only half joking. "I mostly bed bored wives and widows and they all know what the situation is. I don't go about my life leaving a trail of broken hearts behind me."

"How would you know?" Sam asked, sarcasm thick in his voice. "You never look back to notice." When Dean started to try and defend himself again Sam just shook his head. "Look, I just mean, don't treat Y/N with disrespect."

"Of course not." Dean said. But as Sam left to set up their card game in the parlor, Dean realized he had been disrespectful to Y/N. He'd have to track her down tomorrow and rectify that.

To Dean's delight the next day, he found Y/N at the far south end of Sam's property, sitting on a bench in the apple orchard. As he stepped from behind a large stand of trees, he cleared his throat, trying not to startle Y/N again. But she must have heard him coming through the leaves on the ground because she didn't look startled. She looked like a deer in the rifle sights of a hunter. He smiled, trying to put her at ease.

"Good afternoon, Y/N. I'm so glad I found you." He decided to do away with formalities, given the proposition he had planned.

She cleared her throat, but it was still soft and husky when she spoke. "Yes, so nice to see you too, Mr. Winchester. I was just about to head back up to the house, so if you'll excuse me…" She tried to walk briskly past him, but he caught her arm and tucked it into his.

"Wonderful, so was I. I'll walk you up to the house."

She looked like she wanted to argue, her mouth opening and closing several times before simply saying, "thank you" in a small voice. They walked a moment in silence. Then Dean decided to get right to the point.

"I realized that I may have seemed terribly rude the other day. I acted without explaining to you what my intentions were, what they are, I mean."

Y/N looked up at him, her expression surprised and slightly perplexed. "Your intentions?"

"Yes, you see, from the moment I saw you sitting on that bench by the train station, I've known I want to take you as my mistress."

Y/N stumbled, but Dean kept her upright. "Careful." He said as he stopped and turned to face her. "Now, I know that you're an intelligent, beautiful woman. I would never dream of asking you to come away with me if I couldn't provide for you." Dean smiled and began walking again, leading her forward.

"You'd have your own house, of course. I'd give you a household allowance and a clothing allowance. I'd expect you to attend some societal obligations with me. Only the ones where wives aren't present, obviously, but that's still a fair few. It would likely be one a week at least. Other than those obligations, your days would be yours and I would come to visit you a few times a week. I'll always try to let you know of my intentions the day before, but sometimes my schedule can be unpredictable."

Dean stopped again and turned to face Y/N. She stopped when he did, but stayed staring straight ahead. He couldn't tell what she thought of his proposal. He walked in front of her to try and see what her answer might be.

"Do you have any demands you would like to make of me?" He asked, unsure of her feelings.

Her features were flat and expressionless, until she met his gaze. Then he could see that her eyes burned so dark, they looked black. She raised her arm and her palm came down in a fiercely stinging slap across his left cheek. He stood stunned for a moment, before looking back to stare in astonishment at the absolutely furious woman standing before him. Her breasts were heaving, her cheeks were flushed and the anger sparked from her gaze like sparks from a fire. She was magnificent.

She raised her hand to slap him again, but he saw it coming this time and grabbed her wrist, holding tight. She pulled hard against his grip and he let her go, afraid that he'd break the fragile bones he could feel moving under his hand.

Suddenly her beautiful face contorted and she grabbed up her skirts and ran. It took Dean a moment to realize she was crying.

Well, dammit he thought. That did not go the way I planned.

***

Y/N sat in the library the next day alternating between rage and despair.

Clearly she was everything her mother had been. Obviously in spite of everything she'd worked for, the world could still tell she was the daughter of a fallen woman.

Her mother had been the disgraced daughter of an English Lord. She'd been shipped off to America to live with an elderly aunt until she could be safely married off to Y/N's father.

This was information she only learned at the age of sixteen when a so-called friend, Meg, had told her. Meg had tried to hide her glee as she explained to Y/N the reasons why some of the other girls at their boarding school shunned her. The rumors surrounding her mother and her hasty marriage were old, but still circulating.

Y/N had been mortified, but she'd confronted her mother about it at the summer break. Isobel had looked stricken but then said that yes, the rumors were true. She wouldn't talk about it except to say that Y/N should always keep herself pure and chaste.

She took Y/N by the shoulders. "Your purity, your chastity, it is everything. The pious will tell you that your soul depends on it, but I'm telling you Y/N that not only will your soul suffer if you give in to passion, your life will suffer too. Stay away from men."

It was some of the last advice Isobel had ever given Y/N. Three weeks later, her mother died of blood poisoning after a cut had become infected.

Y/N hadn't known how to feel. She was sad, of course, but she'd barely known her mother, really. Her father had died when she was very young and her mother had been mostly absent, letting first the nannies and then teachers at the boarding school raise her daughter.

On top of the rumors surrounding her early years, it was suggested by some that after her husband's death, Isobel lived as a kept woman. Y/N wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but she knew by the whispers and slightly curled lips that it was dirty and wrong.

And now she'd been offered the same life.

As she'd listened to Dean lay out his offer, she realized that this must have been what people had meant when they said her mother was "kept". A man had paid for her living expenses in exchange for…for what, exactly? Dean had said that he'd want her to accompany him out sometimes and that he'd visit her.

What would happen during those visits? Whatever it was had to be the reason people had seemed repulsed when they talked about Isobel.

Her mother had money, Y/N always knew that. It was how they afforded their beautiful home and the boarding school that was Y/N's other home. But when she'd been young she'd never thought where the money had come from, she assumed maybe from a trust her father had left.

But of course that was impossible. Her father had owned a modest general store with two locations in the city of New York. He had been firmly middle class, and couldn't have provided that kind of life for them.

When her schooling had ended shortly after her mother's death, she had no marriage prospects and no job prospects either. No one wanted a governess from a questionable past, especially one who was young and beautiful. That's what Mrs. Oliver had told her anyway.

Mrs. Oliver had been her savior. She was an elderly lady who sat on the board of the school and gave large donations. Y/N had met her at some of the school functions, when the girls were trotted out to converse with the patrons and show them their donations were creating lovely, demure young ladies.

Mrs. Oliver had liked Y/N right away. She liked her wit and her kindness and when Y/N left school, she’d offered her a position as her companion. Y/N took the position and counted her lucky stars.

Mrs. Oliver was still sharp and lively even into her seventies and working as her companion had been the happiest Y/N had ever been. She'd worked for Mrs. Oliver for just over five years before the lady passed away peacefully in her sleep.

Y/N had come to work for the Winchesters soon after, thanks to the glowing reference Mrs. Oliver had left for Y/N in her will. Now she'd been a governess for nearly two years, and had begun to believe that maybe she'd outrun her mother's scandalous life. Maybe she wouldn't turn into a "ruined woman incapable of controlling her passions". That was how she'd heard her mother described once.

But no, here she was, acting completely inappropriately with a man she'd only just met. Acting so inappropriately, in fact, that he believed she would welcome being a kept woman.

As she sat in the library, her rage left her and the despair rose again. She was a lost cause. Her soul was obviously already tarnished and if she wasn't careful, her life would be too.

***

Dean had gone to the orchard first, looking for Y/N, before trying the library, so his clothes were damp and his hair was wet from the misting drizzle that was falling. He tried the library as a last hope and almost heaved a sigh of relief as he saw Y/N's form folded into the green chair.

He knew that Sam and Jessica had taken Lucy to town for a couple of hours to see the circus parade that was going down Main Street before setting up in the fairgrounds. Only the groundskeeper, Kenneth, and Sophie the cook were around. So Dean closed the door and turned the key in the lock. He didn't want to be disturbed.

As he approached her, he could tell that she had been crying. A pain he didn't recognize clenched his gut and he realized it was remorse. He had been the one to make her cry. He had to fix it.

"Good afternoon, Y/N." He said as he took a seat on the couch facing her.

She resolutely ignored him, as if he hadn't even spoken. She wasn't going to make this easy.

"Look," he began, "I can clearly see that I've hurt and insulted you. Please believe that was the last thing I intended. I only meant to show you that I didn't think you were just some easy maid to be tumbled and forgotten. I wanted you to know that I was offering you more. I wanted to provide you with luxury and wealth.”

He clasped his hands together. “I know my brother and sister-in-law pay well but still, a governess' salary isn't much. When we finished our time together, you would have had enough to live on your own quite comfortably. You'd be cared for, and wouldn't have to worry about earning money again. That's what I was trying to tell you. I wanted to offer you so much more than you have now. I thought perhaps you wanted more as well."

She looked up from her lap. Her stony face was still beautiful, even in its sharp, harsh lines. Her gaze scorched him.

"Please, leave. I am rejecting your proposal." Her voice was all ice; it made him long to melt it.

"I gathered that you rejected my proposal when you ran away from me and then refused to come to dinner last night." Sam and Jessica had been sure it was his fault she didn't come down and since he was also sure it was his fault, he didn't even argue very hard.

"I accept your rejection of my proposal. But I don't want to leave. I wanted to talk with you a while."

Y/N just returned her attention to the book she had in her lap. He sighed. He took a chance and moved to kneel on one knee in front of her chair. The closeness had the desired effect of surprising her out of her block of ice.

He took her chin in one hand, lightly, so she could pull away if she wanted to. She didn't.

"Truly, Y/N, I want you to know how sorry I am to have insulted you or hurt you. Please believe that was never my intention."

He saw a slight thaw in her gaze and decided to take it as a win. He didn't want to push his luck so he left the library.

He returned the next day in the hope that she would be there; she was. She was also there the next day and the day after that. The hours between two o'clock and four o'clock quickly became his favorite time of day. Over the three afternoons they spent together the ice in Y/N's smile began to thaw more and more until he was able to pull actual, sweet smiles from her. They were like a prize.

They spent their time discussing books they’d read and loved and explaining only a little bit about their backgrounds - Y/N seemed as reluctant as he was to discuss it. So instead they talked of world events and Y/N described her excitement at the prospect of the World's Fair that was coming to St. Louis in 1904.

She’d longed to go to the previous World's Fair in Omaha the year before, but of course, she couldn't afford it and Lucy had been too little for Sam and Jessica to want to take her. Y/N hoped that because Lucy would be nearly eight years old by the time the next World's Fair arrived,Jessica and Sam might take them all to St. Louis to see it. When she talked about it, her enthusiasm and excitement made Dean very happy.

After dinner one evening he caught up with her as she left to go to her room in the nursery. He grabbed her hand and pulled her behind a large mahogany bookshelf. She looked surprised and tense. He smiled.

"Run away to the circus with me." It was such a ridiculous request that it shocked a chuckle out of her.

"What?" She asked, her mouth stretching into an adorable grin.

"Come with me tomorrow afternoon. It's the last day the circus will be in town, let's go see it. It's no World's Fair, but it should be fun. It's your day off tomorrow, isn't it?"

"Well, yes, but…"

"Don't say no. Say yes."

She shook her head. "Why are you even asking me if you're just going to answer your own question? Why not just ask yourself to go?" Her voice was teasing.

"I make terrible company."

"You're not being very convincing."

"I'll buy you popcorn."

"Well, that seals it then." Y/N said. "You should have started the request with popcorn."

***

Y/N stood in front of her mirror and contemplated changing for the third time that afternoon. The indigo blue cotton dress she wore now was simple and modest. The puffs on the sleeves weren't too large, which she'd liked a few minutes ago when she'd pulled it on. But now she was wondering if she should have puffed sleeves at all. Did it seem as if she was putting on airs, trying too hard to look like more than a governess? Perhaps she should have just worn the serviceable gray wool she wore during her days with Lucy.

Her opportunity to change ended when she heard the soft knock at the door and Jessica called, "The carriage is ready for you and Dean."

Y/N opened the door and smiled, trying to hide her nervousness. Jessica clasped her hands and brought them to her lips.

"Oh, Y/N, you look so beautiful. That dress is lovely."

"Thank you." Y/N said, suddenly shy. She liked Jessica very much, Sam too. They were both kind, fair, and wonderful employers. She felt as though they could be real friends if they weren't separated by the professional relationship between them.

She wondered what Jessica thought about her stepping out with her brother-in-law. Before she could wonder for very long, however, Jessica linked their arms and started walking Y/N towards the front door. On the way she offered some advice.

"Dean is a good man. You know, he paid for Sam's schooling and helped him start a practice in spite of their father's disapproval. He wanted both his sons to follow in his footsteps and run the business. But Dean knew that Sam's heart lay in the law. So, he defied the old man and took care of his brother." She took a deep breath. "So, please don't think that I'm giving you this warning out of any sort of concern about Dean's honor."

She stopped just inside the front door. "He doesn't try to ruin women. He doesn't mean to break hearts. He's just…well, he's just him. And although he certainly knows he's more handsome than the devil," she rolled her eyes, "I really don't think he understands the effect he has on women. They fall for him, and he's moved on before he ever even thinks to catch them."

She grabbed Y/N's hand and gave it a squeeze. "I guess I just want you to be careful, and maybe put a bit of a wall up around your heart."

Y/N was blushing, but she nodded. She was way ahead of Jessica. Over the last few days Dean had shown her that he was intelligent, compassionate, sardonic but hilarious, and wonderful with his niece. She'd forgiven him for his proposal, believing that he was truly sorry and that it had all been a misunderstanding. Perhaps the way she'd behaved with him in the library that first day had made him believe she would welcome the offer.

Whatever the case, there had been no more such talk and in all other respects he'd acted as a perfect gentleman.

Did her heart still pick up its pace every time he walked into a room? Yes.

Did her stomach flip and fill with butterflies when she looked too long into his eyes? Yes.

Did her fingers sometimes itch and tingle with the need to reach out and touch him? Yes.

But as long as she didn't give in to her wanton thoughts, she would be fine. Dean was leaving in about a week; she could manage to hold herself in check. She admitted that she was excited for today's outing to the circus, but only because she'd always wanted to see one. It had nothing to do with Dean.

Then Jessica opened the front door and there he stood. He wore a dark gray suit that was tailored to him perfectly. His eyes were more of a mossy green than emerald today, and they were full of good humor. He smiled his dazzling smile at her and her belly was suddenly full of butterflies again.

He offered an outstretched hand for her to take so he could help her down the stairs. She slipped her hand into his and tried to ignore the warmth that spread up her arm because of the simple touch. But the thought came unbidden to her mind that she wanted to feel his hands everywhere. She was horrified and almost turned around to run back inside.

But she didn't. She continued with Dean into the carriage. Kenneth was driving them and he tipped his hat to her as she climbed in. The open air carriage allowed the sunlight to pour over her and she relished the extra days of summer they had been granted.

Dean climbed in and sat beside her. She could feel the hard length of his thigh even through her layers of skirts and petticoats. She tightened her fist around the parasol she carried and tried without success to ignore the feelings that came from sitting next to Dean.

He always smelled like shaving soap, and something very male, almost spicy, a scent that belonged to Dean alone. It never failed to make her salivate and swallow as though she was savoring a tasty treat.

They arrived at the circus grounds and Dean stepped out of the carriage and again offered Y/N a hand to help steady her down the steps in her skirts.

She stumbled slightly on the last step and Dean caught her under her elbow, pulling her into his side to stabilize her. She leaned into him for a moment, her body giving in to the feeling of bliss that came from his arm wrapped around her waist. But quickly, she straightened up and mumbled her thanks before rushing toward the gates.

This may have been a very bad idea.

***

"And the fire-eaters! Did you see them, Dean? I mean, they swallowed fire!" Dean chuckled as Y/N repeated her reverence for the fire-eaters, as she had at least a half a dozen times since seeing them that evening.

The circus had indeed been a lot of fun, much more fun for Dean because Y/N was clearly enjoying herself immensely. There had been acrobats, and jugglers, and a woman who walked on a tightrope. There were musicians and performers of all kinds. There were clowns and games to win prizes. In her purse Y/N carried a small bird made out of wool with real feathers sewn onto it. He had won it for her at a game of ring toss.

The day had sped by and Dean couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed himself this much doing something that didn't involve whiskey, women, and cards.

Now he was walking her up the steps of the porch and he wanted nothing more than to extend the evening. So, he didn't go inside immediately, instead he lingered when they got to the front door and he was happy to see she did too.

Some of her elation from the day seemed to slip away and she was shy again. Ducking her head she said, "Thank you so much for taking me, Mr. Winchester. It was a lovely day."

"Mr. Winchester?" Dean said, a reprimand in his voice. "We're not back to that are we, Y/N?" He took a step closer hoping she wouldn't step back. She didn't.

He lowered his voice, almost to a whisper. "May I kiss you goodnight?" he asked, unable to hide the heat in his eyes as he raised her chin with his forefinger.

Her eyes widened. "Why?"

A smile came to his lips. "Because I want to. And, tell me if I'm wrong, but I think you might want me to as well."

"No." she said succinctly and he immediately took a step away from her.

"No." she said again, but grabbed his hand. She shook her head. "I mean, no I want you to."

He frowned, struggling to understand what she was trying to say. She exhaled roughly as though she was exasperated. And then she leaned up on tiptoe and pressed her lips softly and fleetingly against his.

When she pulled away her skin was so red, he could see her blush even in the moonlit shadows they stood in. “I'm so sorry.” She said, clearly flustered. “I shouldn't have done that. I don't know what came over me."

Dean’s grin was wicked. "I know what came over you, it's come over me too. Will you let me kiss you now? And show you?" His voice was husky with his desire and it took all he had not to lean forward, grab her, and crush her lips with his own.

"You already kissed me." Y/N said, confusion on her face. "You just did." It took Dean a moment to realize she was referring to the little light-as-air kiss she'd just given him.

He tried to curb his laughter. "Well, that was certainly sweet, but not the same as me kissing you."

Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean? You just kissed me."

"No, you kissed me."

After a moment's contemplation, Y/N scoffed and looked at him suspiciously. "You kissing me, or me kissing you, it's the same thing. You're just trying to kiss me again."

Dean smiled. "You don't think there's a difference between you kissing me and me kissing you?"

She shook her head, her expression suspicious. "Of course not."

"Would you care to make a small wager on that?

"I don't gamble."

"Oh, this won't be for money. If, once I kiss you, you still think there's no difference, I will grant any request you make of me." Dean paused and heat flooded his hooded gaze. "And vice versa."

***

Y/N stood in the moonlight, staring up at her own ruin and she didn't even try to stop it. She nodded, agreeing to the wager.

Dean reached out and took her hand, shaking on the deal and then pulling her in close. Even in the semi-darkness his green eyes shone, jewel bright. He stood for a moment simply staring at her mouth. The hunger in his gaze made her shiver.

He took her chin in his fingers and leaned close to her, his mouth hovering over hers for what felt like an eternity.

"What are you…" Y/N was incapable of speech. Her heart beat so hard and fast she was sure it would soon burst. "Hurry up." She said, shaken completely.

Dean shook his head slowly. "No." His voice was deep and rough and he drew out the word, so it rumbled up from his chest.

When he was a hair's breadth away from her lips, she put her hands up between them, flat on his chest. The warmth of his skin through his shirt burned her palms.

"I concede." She blurted out. "It's different. It's not…this is different."

Dean's expression was pained. "Do you want me to walk away?"

The part of her mind that was desperately trying to preserve her sanity was screaming at her to say yes. But her body physically revolted at the thought of him moving away now and she shook her head.

"Thank God." He breathed against her lips before finally covering them in a kiss.

Dean's lips were soft and plump, but they pressed firmly against hers, and the pressure made her dizzy. She swayed slightly and Dean grasped her head in his two hands as he deepened the kiss.

She felt him sweep his tongue across her sealed lips, as though he was tasting her, and she gasped. He took advantage of the opening and swept his tongue inside. He tasted like the apple cider they'd drunk earlier; it was warm and spicy, and she reached her own tongue out to explore the taste further.

Dean groaned low in his throat, a sound that made all the hairs on her body stand up and gooseflesh race across her skin. His hands slipped from her head, down over her neck and shoulders. He slid them down to her waist and pulled her against him while he walked her backwards until they were up against the wall of the house.

He pressed his hard body into her, and moved his lips to her neck. Fire exploded along the path his lips had taken and Y/N was suddenly desperate to feel his mouth everywhere.

She was seconds away from asking him for exactly that, when a light went on in the house and they both froze. The light didn't spill onto them and it was extinguished fairly quickly, but it had been enough to bring Y/N to her senses. She stepped to the side, out of the circle of Dean's arms. She was instantly so cold she started to shiver.

She couldn't think what she could possibly say, so she simply rushed toward the entrance. But he caught up her hand just as she reached the door.

"What about my request? I won the bet, remember?"

He stepped up close behind her, wrapping his strong hands around her upper arms, and whispering in her ear. The low rumble caused the shivers to move inside her body so that her insides trembled.

"Come to me tomorrow night, at midnight. The household will be long asleep, but I'll be waiting for you."

He let go of her arms and she ran into the house as fast as she possibly could, before she could agree to the request or deny it. She had no idea which one it would be.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

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#dean x y/n #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester au #dean winchester au fan fic #dean winchester fan fic series #dean winchester au fan fic series

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cowgirlcasanova · 15 days

Text

LIQUOR & LONLINESS

pairing | arthur morgan x fem! oc

summary | arthur sees caroline alone by the fire and gives her some company. caroline can’t stand seeing him so exhausted and tries to take some weight off his shoulders

tags | fluff, flirting but everyone denies it, two idiots pretending not to be in love, fireside chat, massage, cute nervous arthur

word count | 2.5k

a/n | hi bffs! this is my first time ever publishing a fic! i’ve been trying to get back into creative writing again so here we are. please be nice to me ok? :)

i plan on publishing more arthur fics with this oc, building up their world/relationship & revealing her backstory. i just always think it’s so fun to read about ocs so i thought i’d give it a try! so this is a little introduction. hope you like it <3

A small sliver of the moon peeked through the clouds reflecting off the bay surrounding Clemens Point.

The glow of the moon and the dying firelight contrasted beautifully on Carolines face, something Arthur couldn’t help but take notice of as he gazed at her from under the awning of his wagon.

He couldn’t force himself to revert his gaze, completely enthralled by the way the shadows danced across her at the smallest of movements. He was already picturing the angle in which he’d have to move his pencil to even attempt at sketching the sight of the warm and cool light dueling on her face. Arthur cursed himself under his breath at the mere thought of filling another page in his journal with her face, something he’d found himself doing far too often these days.

“Arthur you miserable fool.” He muttered to himself, grimacing as he stretched out his overworked body and rose off his cot.

Caroline sat alone, unsure if the heat she was feeling was radiating from the ebbing fire or from the burn of the dark liquor making its way through her system. She stuck to taking small sips of her glass of bourbon, feeling a strange guilt for drinking it in the first place.

As the only member of the Van Der Linde gang to have advanced medical knowledge it all fell on her to heal their various ailments. She often had just enough supplies to keep everyone afloat, but having the law after you constantly made it a challenge to get your hands on much needed medicine. So, she’d save what she could and turn to liquor as her medicine of choice, trying to save all the expensive tonics and remedies for the traumas that really needed it. Bill complaining of a back injury? Whiskey. The days that Hosea's cough seemed to worsen? Whiskey. Even using whiskey as a last ditch effort to warm John after his wolf attack. She always tried her best to stay out of her own medicinal stash of liquor, But, some nights she wanted the peace that came with the burn of whiskey. Tonight was one of those nights.

“Hey there, Miss Caroline.” Arthurs gruff voice breaks through the unusually silent night. The smell of the burning fire filled his nose as he got closer. He approaches her with a courteous nod, running a hand across his growing stubble.

“Mind if I join ya?” He removed his banged up hat, holding it close over his chest, a small sign of respect toward the lady that did go unnoticed by her. Rarely anything he did went unnoticed by her.

She smiled up at him with the warm smile she always wore, but something about it made him feel like that sweet smile was just for him everytime. Though he’d never let himself believe something as foolish as that. When she turned to look at him the shadows on her face stopped battling and the warm light of the fire covered her completely. From Arthurs vantage point it almost looked as if she was glowing.

“Please do.”

He moves as gently as he can for his size, taking his seat next to her on the old log the gang has fashioned into a bench. His usual confidence was tempered by something softer while next to her. His leg brushes against her knee, as he sits down, a reminder of how close you two are. The weight of his knee was pushing the scratchy material of her skirt against her leg and yet, she can’t bring herself to move her leg away from the tiny space they share. In the harsh life she's suddenly found herself thrown into, although by her own actions. She finds herself craving affection and touch more and more everyday. A gentle touch. Not a casual pat on the shoulder from Dutch or a clap on the back from Sean. Something with meaning behind it, with care and tenderness.

When Arthurs leg stays planted firmly, their knees barely brushing, her heart aches at the thought that the ever so tough man beside her may be feeling the same.

"you doin’ alright this evenin’, caroline?” He asks, his voice softer than usual. His eyes moved across her face, taking in the closeness and her warmth that he was now admiring up close.

“Im doin’ just fine. How ‘bout yourself?” Her sickeningly sweet southern accent hits his ears, making him unable to stop a smile from tugging at his lips.

“I’ve been worse.”

“Long day I take it?” She asks, sipping from her glass, not diverting her gaze from him. Her face takes on a concerned expression. He has to glance away from the look she gives him, deflecting his eyes to the fire. Something about the way she looked at him always seemed so soft and genuine. It turned him into a fool everytime.

“Ain’t they all.” He drawls, letting out a self deprecating chuckle.

Arthur stretches out his sore, muscled arms in front of him in an effort to work out the constant deep ache that his overworked body feels. His biceps flex through the thin material of his button up shirt, the material looking like it could give way any moment, unintentionally drawing Caroline's eye. Her heart speeds up as she takes another sip from her glass, doing her best to quiet her thoughts of him with liquor. A quiet, painful groan slips from his mouth at the movement. He closes his eyes and rolls his neck to try and soothe discomfort.

“Did’ya hurt yourself?” She asks swiftly, her voice filling with immediate concern. Arthur scolded himself, trying to push down the warmth he felt over her worrying for him. It was her job.

His eyes warmed at her concern, making her wonder if it was the pain or her that caused the change. She hoped it was the latter. “my shoulder just been actin’ up on me. nothin’ for you to fuss about.”

“Well, if ya keep throwin’ your weight around it ain’t never gon’ heal.” She laughed softly, shaking her head as if she was scolding the tough and hardened man beside her.

He made a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a groan, hating to be reminded of how often he seemed to be caught in some violent altercation nowadays. He hated it more coming from Caroline, the sweetest woman he knows. He couldn't help but feel like she should loathe him and this life. That she should turn heel and run while she still had a chance at a good life. Maybe even being able to settle down with a rich man somewhere, raise a family. The things a woman like her should be able to do. Not running with a gang of criminals.

“It ain’t the “throwing my weight around,” He says chuckling, repeating her choice of wording. “I’m just gettin’ old”

“Oh, you are not gettin’ old you silly man!” She whacked his arm playfully, the sound making a weak thump because of her carefulness, taking extra precaution to hit his forearm and not his sore shoulder.

All he musters out is a small lighthearted scoff at her strike, which felt more like a love tap.

“It ain’t age! It's all that punchin’ you're doing.” A weak attempt at chastising him, but she's not able to keep the smile off her lips long enough. “And yes, I did hear about that fight at the saloon.”

He looked over at her and the way she clicked her tongue in disapproval. She was still wearing that same smile. He couldn’t help but chuckle when she raised her eyebrows at him, the expression playfully reprimanding him and silently telling him that she was owed an answer.

“Yeah, I guessed you would’ve heard about it. But, they were was askin’ for it.” He felt an odd sense of understanding when she didn’t disagree with him but instead laughed and shook her head affectionately. “I'm sure they was.” Maybe she didn’t see him and his life as horribly as he thought.

“I guess maybe I can be a hotheaded fool sometimes.” He spoke, berating himself under the appearance of a good humored joke.

“That you certainly can be.” She chuckled, with a warm grin. He heard no malice in her words.

The way Arthur sits with his shoulders hunched forward, It's obvious he’s tired, sore, and overworked. It breaks her heart, the way he does so much for others here just to end up sitting here aching internally and externally.

“C’mere,” She gestures to the dirt ground under her feet. “Let me see what I can do for ya.” the pleading in her voice sounds like this is just as much for her as it is for him.

He doesn't want to. Making her work for him? No, it should be the other way. For a girl like her, he should be spending every waking minute running around making sure she has everything she could possibly want.

Before he can turn down her offer, she snaps her fingers, pointing at the same spot. She won't allow him to put himself last this time.

“Yes ma’am” He chuckles at her unusual assertiveness.

She carefully lays her hand on his shoulder, as if she was checking to make sure he wouldn’t flee like a wild horse the moment he felt her touch. Once certain, she rolls the pad of her thumb over his sore muscle, taking great care to be gentle. Like there was something she cherished under hands. The fabric of his shirt moves along with the movement of her thumb, stopping her hands from being able to touch his skin.

His broad shoulders relax under her touch, goosebumps rising over his skin when she touches him so delicately. He’s grateful for the shirt covering him so she can’t feel the way his skin reacts so easily to her touch. His head hangs forward as he lets out a quiet groan of contentment, relishing in the feeling. Whether it's the feeling of the sore muscle being worked loose or the feeling of being cared for so sweetly he’s not so sure. She peers down at his face and sees his eyes flutter closed as she continues her soothing movement. Her eyes were stuck on his face as he relaxed for the first time.

The smile lines around his mouth made it obvious he wore a warm expression often no matter how tough he looked at a moment's glance. His aging eyes were developing small wrinkles on the outer corners from years of squinting in the sun and all the times his bountiful laugh trailed up to his eyes. He always smelled of tobacco and ash, even his scent exuded warmth if you're able to get close enough to notice.

Arthur Morgan, The man who could make statues talk. He didn’t look intimidating to her, he rarely ever did but, especially not in the vulnerable position she’s seeing him in now. In their closeness, she could see the way the longer pieces of his growing stubble had a small curl to them, The way he had a few tiny freckles across the bridge of his nose, presumably from being in the sun his whole life. She realized he didn’t look so sad for once, he looked peaceful. And she was the one making him feel that way.

“That helpin’ at all?” She asks quietly, close enough to him that he feels her breath against his ear.

He nods sleepily, angling his neck to the left to stretch the muscle she’s working on. With the more exposed area, she runs her thumb along his neck, landing just under his jaw bone. He lets out a low, content murmur to answer her. “Mhmm” With her hands on him, she can feel the vibration of his rumble throughout her.

“Alrigh’, jus’ relax.” She whispers, her calm voice mixing with the sound of the crackling fire and the waves of the bay lapping quietly.

He lets out quiet, low groans here and there. The rumble in his voice suggests the sound is emanating from somewhere deep in his chest. His head hangs in his calm state, being enveloped in warm light.

Although this was meant to help him, she could feel it soothing her as well. She craved tenderness so deeply that this moment felt like a relief from all the toughness around her. She wasn’t just offering gentleness, she was receiving it. Arthur trusted her touch and surrendered to it. In this intimate moment, he let her be gentle and soft. For now that’s what she needed.

Even though his hands weren't on her at all, she felt as though they may as well could've been.

“That should help it at least.” She feathers her massage off, now just gently running a soothing hand over the muscle. “I don’t wanna end up aggravatin’ it more.”

He rolls his neck as he stands back up, positioning himself on the log once more. “Felt real nice. Thank ya” She feels his hand pat against her knee, gently squeezing it. Her leg felt cold after the loss of contact, even through a layer of fabric. A chill goes through her entire body. She's grateful for the long skirt covering her legs so he can’t feel the goosebumps across them.

“Don't mention it.” She says dismissively, although her heart is hammering in her chest. She takes a sip from her glass hoping he’ll believe the alcohol is the reason for the redness washing over the apples of her cheeks. “Just glad it did ya some good.”

“You’re a damn fine nurse, Caroline” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, looking almost jovial in nature. He doesn’t look so tense anymore. His shoulders fall in a more relaxed manner and the fire casts long bronze shadows over him, creating contours on his face that give his usually piercing eyes a new kind of gentleness.

“Well thank you Mr. Morgan” She beams at him, happy that her work is noticed. Especially by him. She’s constantly half exhausted with all she does in camp, fixing every small ailment that anyone complains of. And yet, shes not bringing in money or doing “domestic chores” so, Grimshaw sees no worth in her. “I do my best to keep you boys alive.” She laughs.

He scoffs with a lighthearted chuckle at her calling him “Mr. Morgan” He turns his gaze to the fire, watching it dance for a few moments before his eyes flicker down to his hands, looking at them with distant thought. “We’d probably be in a lot worse shape without ya…”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” She laughs bashfully. She’s never been one to accept a compliment easily. But, something about the sincerity his voice holds always manages to make her consider that it could be the truth. She laughs again, shaking her head as if she was physically shaking the thought out. “Now, any other ways you’ve gone and gotten yourself hurt that I should know about?” Her eyebrows raise playfully.

The same scoff leaves his mouth, along with a low chuckle. “No, nothin’ else. Not now at least.”

“Well stop goin’ and gettin’ yourself hurt and maybe it’ll stay that way.” A warm smile bloomed across her face. He couldn’t help but notice the way a small crinkle formed across the bridge of her nose when she laughed. The sight captivated him too much, she seemed almost holy to him.

“I’ll try. No promises” He said with a chuckle that sounded from deep within his chest. “But, I'll try for you.”

#rdr2 #rdr2 community #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fandom #arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 fanfic #rdr fanfiction #rdr2 fanfiction #arthur morgan fanfiction #fluff

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salsadifragola · 6 months

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Hello!! im doing some small characters doodles for just 2 kofis to help me stay afloat for a little more while in college, im strungling financially a lot atm Any characyer from any fandom even if i dont know abt! (except hoyoverse games)

-no ocs -no backgrounds -maybe nsfw (ask first)

on the donation message write down the character and fandom and i will make you a doodle of them!

#salsa ramble #maccadam #transformers #salsa art #my art #mtmte #pokemon #pkmn

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sarahsmi13s · 1 year

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Bloodstained Sandbags

whumptober day 1 : bloody knuckles

pairing: eddie diaz x reader

characters: eddie diaz, fem!reader, christopher diaz, evan buckley, scott (oc)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, nightmares, panic attacks, crying, blood, disassociation, SA (not in vivid detail, but it is spoken about), language, caretaking, PTSD, resetting a dislocated shoulder, talks of therapy, mentions of underground fighting, please tell me if i missed any

word count: ~5.6k

a/n: this is for whumptober! please please please proceed with caution and use discretion, protect your peace

also if you are on the whump taglist but are not familiar with a character, you can skip it will not hurt my feelings!

whumptober 2023 masterlist

summary: healing is draining and you're trying everything you can to stay afloat... can a new workout routine help keep you above water as you support eddie through his trauma while you work through your own?

You really thought that when Eddie started working at the dispatch center, things were going to get better for you. You thought you would sleep better, your nightmares fading away as you always had your protector next to you now. You were safe, no one could hurt you with Eddie at your side.

But it didn’t seem to matter, because you couldn’t close your eyes without being back in that damn break room – the break room you no longer set foot in.

It was like even though you knew you were safe with Eddie… a sick, twisted part of you kept reminding you that Eddie wouldn’t always be there to protect you.

And the thing was, Eddie had no idea.

No idea that you were struggling. That for months you were feeling sick to your stomach everytime you got up to get ready for work. That you wanted his touch but had a mini panic attack every time he touched you when you weren’t expecting it.

But he had no idea what happened to you either. You were afraid to tell him. Afraid he’d leave you, though logically you knew he would never do that.

Except there wasn’t a good time to tell him, either. He was having a hard time with his PTSD and you were doing the best you could to help him while also trying to keep yourself above water.

Which is why you started going to the gym… The sweating, the adrenaline, all of it just made you feel stronger.

And that’s where you picked up on learning to fight, you wanted to be ready. Ready to protect yourself or Christopher if the situation presented itself and Eddie wasn’t around.

You sighed as you walked into yours and Eddie’s apartment, your body stiff and sore from your workout. You managed to scrape your knuckles just a little bit too but it wasn’t too noticeable.

You hung your purse up and set your gym bag down. “Eddie? Chris?”

You heard Eddie’s voice come from the kitchen. “We’re in here, Honey!”

You smiled and walked into the kitchen, seeing them at the table. “How are my boys?” You went over and kissed them both on the head, “I’m sorry if I made you wait, I got really in the zone at the gym and the traffic was a monster.”

“Oh it’s no problem, I was just getting started on the veggies. Why don’t you go shower and it should be ready by the time you're done,” Eddie said as he stood and kissed the side of your head before returning to cutting the vegetables.

You nodded at him before ruffling Chris’s hair, “Do you have any homework you need help with?” He nodded, “Yeah, math stuff.” “Alrighty, I’ll help you after dinner, okay?” “Okay.”

Smiling, you kissed his head again before going to take a shower.

Once you went into the bathroom, you were all too ready to peel the sweaty gym clothes off of you.

Your leggings peeled off with a wet sound, and if someone heard it they would have thought that you jumped into the ocean with your clothes on. The collar of your cutout t-shirt was soaked enough that you could ring it out. Your sports bra was practically the same way.

“I went way harder than I thought…” you mumbled to yourself as you dropped your clothes into a pile and checked the temperature of your shower.

Scalding hot, just like you liked it.

You stepped under the water, wincing slightly at the initial bite of the heat on your skin. But as you stood there under the water both the heat and pressure seemed to massage your muscles, allowing you to relax.

The shower was the only way you could get a massage, it was the only place you allowed yourself to feel vulnerable.

And you never went to a masseuse at all because Eddie was enough. But now, after everything that happened, the idea of being pinned under someone with your back exposed and their hands on you like that could send you into a panic attack.

He had tried once after he started his therapy sessions, realizing he had been neglecting you and wanted to help you work out the soreness of your muscles.

But you were fighting a panic attack the whole time. You had to hold a conversation with him and ask him to not put his full weight on you. He cooperated without question of course and then you sat and chatted about your day.

Though you haven’t let him do it since, fearing that you would be able to hold it together and freak out on him.

Showers were your source of muscle relaxation. So that’s why you stood there, water pressure on pulse and heat turned up to hell.

When you felt satisfied, you turned the temperature down and finished your shower, ending with a cold rinse just to soothe your skin before getting out and getting dressed in a pair of shorts and one of Eddie’s shirts then joining the boys for dinner.

Eddie watched you wash dishes with a smile on his face as he leaned against the fridge.

He had cleaned out the sink, putting plates, bowls, utensils, and cups into the dishwasher while you were helping Chris with homework. But now you were working on pots and pans because they just didn’t fit in the dishwasher with the other things, often needing to be washed separately – and that took too long for your liking.

So after getting Chris settled down in his room, Eddie came back to watch you, wanting to spend alone time with you since you rarely got that lately.

Not that he was necessarily mad about it, he respected boundaries when and where you set them – no questions asked.

But he was pulled to action when he heard you wince, taking a step and a half to meet you as you turned for a towel.

“What happened?” Eddie asked, holding your hand as you dabbed it dry, wincing as you did so.

You shook your head, not answering him as you took the towel away to blow on the raw skin of your busted knuckles. You had gotten lemon juice and salt on them from cleaning the cutting board you had used this morning, and it hurt like a bitch.

Eddie froze for a second. Where had you gotten bruised and scraped up knuckles from? You hadn’t had those this morning…

In a quick scan, he checked you over for injuries. If you had a bruised cheekbone or black-eye that he somehow missed during dinner. But you were clean, so he could cross fight off the list.

“Nena… what happened?”

His voice was gentle as he took the towel away from you and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles. He was worried, because last time he started coming home with busted knuckles he was underground fighting…

But you wouldn’t do that? Would you?

“I was at the gym and I scraped it, not a big deal.”

He nodded and rubbed his thumb gently over it. “Let me finish the dishes.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. Eddie was going to finish the dishes, and he wasn’t going to argue.

You sighed and moved out of the way, letting him take over but you didn’t leave and instead wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head on his back. After your day at work and then going so hard at the gym, you need this comfort. The domesticity of it all, the safety of it all.

Over the next few weeks things seemed to be getting a little better. Sure, you were still having nightmares and coming home with slightly bruised knuckles but Eddie’s surprise touches didn’t spook you anymore. You were also considering becoming more intimate with Eddie again as he seemed to be doing better as well and was seeking out the contact again.

Things were just slowly coming back to normal, well as normal as the could be, but things were getting better

But then something happened at work, and it set all of your progress back.

You were walking to your desk from the supply closet with more file folders, since you were doing some re-organizing and needed new ones, when you bumped into someone.

They caught you before you fell, steadying you with their hands on your waist. Huffing out a surprised laugh, you looked up to thank them but you nearly choked on air when you saw whose hands were on you.

Panic shot through you like lightning and you put distance between you and Scott immediately, not caring if it was rude or not.

“Woah, Y/N, you okay?” He asked, but the smirk pulling at the corner of his lips told you that he knew the answer.

How could you be okay? After not seeing him that up close for months, then all of a sudden his hands are on you again and you’re back to being the weak little girl you were in the break room that night.

“S-S-Scott, I-I thought you were um late shift?” You stuttered, your eyes looking for escapes to your desk in your periphery.

He put a hand in his pocket nonchalantly, attempting to lure you into a false sense of security, that that side of his body was safe to escape through – it wasn’t.

“Oh, I am, but I decided to come in on a Saturday. I needed another day on my paycheck since I took a day off this week.”

You nodded, jaw setting and grinding your back teeth together as you tried to avoid looking at his face. “I see. Well Scott, if you’ll excuse me I need to get… get back to my desk.” You cursed yourself for starting so confident but then losing it as the breath just slowly got pulled from your lungs.

Scott just smirked. He could see the fear in your eyes and the cottonmouth you were getting just being in his presence. He thrived on it, knowing that corporate wasn’t going to follow up on the claim you made to HR and that you weren’t in a great position to quit so you had to stay for just a little longer.

But he just caught you one unlucky night where you had to stay late to finish a project, considering you didn’t work the night hours because you usually needed to be home with Chris because Eddie was working a shift. The one time Buck was off you took advantage of it and stayed late to catch up.

And you haven’t stayed late since…

“Oh, by all means, don’t let me stop you, I was just on my way to get some coffee.”

You were trying so hard not to clam up and just bolt to your desk and pack up. But you calmly nodded and just squatted down to pick up the folders you dropped.

You hated having your back to him and your hands shook furiously as you collected the pale yellow folders.

“You look like you could use a break, why don’t you join me?” Scott’s voice was right in your ear. It was low and raspy as his hand gripped your shoulder.

Trying your best to just shrug it off, you shook your head. “No, I’m alright. I need to get back to work.”

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, “I insist.” His voice was demanding as his fingers curled around your joint and dug into your collarbone.

Instantly your arm shot up and pushed him off you. “I said no.”

You scooped up the remaining folders and dignity and went toward your desk. Just to have fingers curled around your wrist and pulling you back into a hard chest.

“I’m trying to be nice and you’re being a bitch.”

Rolling your lips between your teeth, you tried to yank your wrist away – twisting and pulling at his grip to get him to let go. “You just don’t know how to understand the word ‘no’. I don’t want coffee, I just want to go to my desk.”

You swallowed, finally looking in his eyes, shredding any last dignity you had. “Please Scott… you got what you wanted, just leave me alone… please…”

The canines he bared as he smiled wide made you sick to your stomach, but as he opened his mouth to speak his attention was pulled away and you took that chance to free yourself. You twisted your wrist and pushed the files into his chest before booking it to your desk.

After gathering your things and rushing to your manager’s office, pleading to her with shaky hands as you told her something had happened and you needed to get home to Chris.

She immediately let you leave, not questioning it as you thanked her and ran out to your car.

The drive home was a total blur, taking the turns on auto pilot as you tried not to break down before you were in the safety of your own home and not risking anyone else’s safety.

And when you finally got home, you were booking it to the fridge to get a cold water bottle to maybe shock your system into calming down. But in your haste you missed the fact that Buck and Chris are home, and not out at the aquarium like you thought they were.

Buck had heard you come in and watched you nearly trip over yourself to get to the kitchen, abandoning your purse and keys on the floor.

Chris had seen it too and looked at Buck concerned, having never once seen you like this. “Buck?” Buck ruffled Chris’s hair, “I’ll go see what’s up. You stay here okay?” Chris just nodded and watched Buck get up and go to the kitchen.

Buck went to the kitchen, finding you chugging the cold water as you white knuckled the counter.

“Y/N? You’re home early.”

The way you jumped, hand clenching around the bottle so hard that water shot out of it – it would have been comical had the dilated look in your wide eyes not set off alarm bells in Buck’s head.

You watched, caught like a deer in headlights, as concern washed over Buck’s face and filled his eyes with pity. Immediately your back was turned to him, shielding your breaking resolve from his helping hand.

With the blood pounding in your ears, you missed his approach until he was touching you. You jerked again under his touch, weakly muttering out, “P-please don’t touch me.”

Buck’s heart sank. He had never heard you sound like this before… so broken…

It sent him back to the night Eddie had destroyed your room in a fit of helplessness, how terrified his best friend was. How you sat with Eddie, him now remembering your bruised knuckles encasing Eddie’s in an act of comfort.

“Y/N… what happened? What’s wrong?”

“No-nothing, just-just…”

He tried to turn you and get you to face him, to get a read on your face and figure out what to do. But you yelped and pushed him back, sending his stunned 6’2” frame into the table.

“Buck you need to leave…”

“Y/N-”

“Leave Evan!”

Buck swallowed, trying not to be hurt as he turned on his heel and went to say goodbye to Christopher.

You watched him leave the kitchen, your ears hot and tingling as you looked at the mess you made. You needed to clean it up before Chris came in here and slipped.

Hearing Buck close the front door, you carefully made your way to the laundry room to get a dirty bath towel to clean it up. Your vision tunneled, your ears rang and you felt that sick snag in your chest as the air was stopping half way down your throat.

By the time you get there your legs can barely hold you up as you get to the washer and sink down to the floor. Sobs are wracking your chest and you can only pray Chris can’t hear you.

But your prayers went unanswered, because Chris can hear you and he is scared.

Your broken sobs and ragged breathing are reminding him of the night Eddie punched those holes in the wall… and the night you came home and took a long shower thinking Chris was asleep and couldn’t hear you crying through the wall.

Chris abandoned the video game in front of him and put himself on a mission to find you. He could follow the sound of your cries to where you were sitting on the cold floor, head between your knees as you tried to breathe regularly.

“Y/N?” He gently called out, hoping you could hear him.

He watched you thread your hands in your hair and pull at the roots, sucking in jagged breaths just for them to be forced out with the next sob.

He didn’t like seeing you like this and he hated that he wasn’t sure how to help. But he knew he had to try.

Chris called out your name again as he approached you, not wanting to scare you and send you further into your panic. You must have recognized his voice because you seemed to calm down just a bit. He sat down on the floor next to you and put his hands on yours on top of your head.

“You’re safe, it’s okay, Y/N. I’m here.” He recalled the phrases you had repeated to him when he was having trouble after the tsunami. He had to pull from what he was shown, he had barely anything to go off of and he just had to hope that it was enough.

With Chris putting his hands on yours, talking to you gently, you could feel yourself slowly calming down. His hands were so drastically different from the ones that had bruised your skin, that it managed to remind you that you were home and that you were safe.

“Please, Y/N…”

You look up at him slowly, your hands letting go of your hair and holding his hands. “It’s okay, you’re safe.” Chris moved your hands to his face, hoping that it can help to ground you.

Your thumbs immediately began to rub back and forth on his cheeks, him taking deep breaths to help you find a rhythm. “Follow me, Y/N. Just like you tell me…”

Chris watched the fog clear from your eyes as you began to calm down and lean forward to press a kiss to his head as a thank you before resting your forehead on his. He wrapped his arms around you as best he could and you pulled him into your lap, your head falling to his shoulder.

You sat there for a bit in silence, rubbing Chris’s back as you managed to collect yourself.

“I’m sorry if I scared you, Chris. I didn’t mean to,” you apologized, breaking the silence. “Are you okay?” His voice was soft and gentle as he pulled back a little. You’re nodding immediately, “I’m better now, thank you buddy.”

“Do I need to call Dad?”

You shook your head, “No, it’s okay. I’ll be alright.”

He nodded before tilting his head a little, “Why are you mad at Buck? Did he do something bad?”

Your heart sank. He had heard you yell at Buck, and you hardly ever yelled around Chris – if ever. And now you’ve come home early, yelled at one of your best friends, and had a full blown panic attack with Christopher as a witness.

“Oh Chris… Buck didn’t do anything wrong. I shouldn’t have yelled at him. I’m not mad.”

“Why did you yell at him?”

“I was just feeling a lot of things and it was just what happened. I could have handled it better and I will in the future,” you said gently as you pushed some of his curls back.

You sniffled a little bit, “Why don’t you go back to the living room and I’ll make you some lunch after I get changed?” You gave him the best smile you could and kissed his forehead after he nodded.

“Okay, let’s go.”

Eddie had come home around 5:30 to you already finishing up on getting dinner ready.

“Honey? What are you doing home?”

“Oh, I got the stuff I need to get done early so I decided to just come home,” you said nonchalantly with a shrug.

He smiled and came up behind you to kiss your cheek before he went to get changed. But as he placed his hand on the small of your back, you jumped.

Eddie’s brow furrowed, you had never reacted like that to him. But he didn’t get to ask you, because you turned your head and planted a kiss on his lips. “I love you, Eddie.” He smiled softly and kissed your forehead, “I love you too, Y/N.”

You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face into his shoulder, smelling his coffee and whiskey body spray. He hugged you back, albeit a little confused, but he could tell you needed this.

After a few moments, you pulled back, “Go get changed and cleaned up, I’ll have it plated for you by the time you get back.” He nodded and kissed your temple, “Yes ma’am.”

You smiled and pecked his jaw before he went to change.

When he came back, Eddie found you and Chris at the table, his plate made up for him just like you said it would be.

“It looks fantastic, Honey, thank you,” he said, announcing his presence before touching your shoulder and kissing the top of your head. You smiled at him, “Of course, Sweetheart.” He sat down next to you, his hand on your thigh, just resting there as you ate.

You talked about his day and everything that went on – you having been getting his twitter notifications and just wanted a little more detail.

But when he turned and asked you about your day, you clammed up and just told him it was like any other day, you just skipped the gym today because you wanted to surprise him with dinner. And you left it at that, leaving no more room for conversation about your day.

After dinner you all went to the living room to watch movies before Chris went to bed. It was your weekend routine.

Except tonight you broke routine.

You decided that you wanted to go ahead and go to the gym, just to get a small workout in before you went to bed. So, after you did the dishes you got in your gym clothes and gave Chris a hug and Eddie a quick kiss before leaving.

It had all happened so quickly that Eddie didn’t get a chance to really slow you down and ask you what was up. This behavior was just so off to him that he just wanted an explanation.

And he did… just not from you.

After you lifted weights for God knows how long, you finally went over to the punching bag.

You had been on autopilot the moment you left the house.

And yeah, you felt bad for just leaving Eddie hanging like that. Giving him no explanation other than you just wanted to. But you had been thrumming since your panic attack, using that energy on deep cleaning and laundry — too on edge to rest or sit still.

You needed an aggressive outlet for all that energy, you had to get to the gym.

So that’s where you’ve been. Lifting weights and running until near collapse.

Now you were hastily wrapping your hands to take it all out on the punching bag. The poor inanimate object becoming the true outlet of your emotions, taking blow after blow as you wail on it. Your emotions from earlier in the day being released in the form of punches.

You hated that Scott was able to revert you back to the scared girl you were that night, smothering all the progress you had thought you made.

The swinging sandbag in front of you felt like a wall as you hit it with every you had. Flashes of that night played behind your closed lids as you seemingly lost control.

You could feel his hands on you again, touching you with evil intentions. His hands mocked Eddie, tainted the loving touch of your boyfriend with his greediness.

Your hips digging into the counter, bruised with the force of Scott pinning you in place. You couldn’t escape, you didn’t know how to escape.

With each moment flashing, each ghostly touch reminding you of what he did to you in the break room, you punched harder — oblivious to the pain shooting up your arm with each solid hit.

You couldn’t stop. You didn’t want to stop.

You just wanted it all to go away.

And in those moments you didn’t feel the tears running down your cheeks, you were numb. You hadn’t noticed the break in your poorly wrapped tape, which allowed your bare knuckles to meet with the canvas bag.

The tears and dissociation blurred your vision and you were blind to the fact the red spots and streaks covering the rough beige fabric was your own blood.

You had broken the skin on your knuckles, staining the sandbag with your blood as tears stained your cheeks.

But when you land a particularly hard punch and your shoulder pops grotesquely next to your ear do you snap out of it.

“Oh fuck!”

Your curse was picked up by a nearby girl who had come in at the same time as you.

“Oh my goodness! Are you okay?!”

Your head whipped up to look at her and you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

You didn’t look good, covered head to toe in red splotches and sweat. You looked down at your knuckles and saw that your tape was practically non-existent and your hand was covered in crimson.

“Ma’am? Are you okay?”

You blinked and looked at the girl. “Yeah… yes yes I’m fine. I just… I need to go home. My boyfriend is probably worried.”

“Are you sure? That crack sounded bad…”

“Thank you for your concern but I’m alright. You have a good night and be safe, please.”

She could only nod as you quickly grabbed your bag and went out to your car.

You knew you’d be driving with just one arm and you really didn’t want to deal with an midnight ER on a Saturday night so you went straight home — knowing that you’d need Eddie.

Eddie sat in the living room, his knee bouncing with nerves as he waited for you to get home.

You hadn’t answered your phone and he was starting to get worried. With his line of work, he was already thinking the worst. Did you get into an accident? Did you get taken? He had his radio on the coffee table listening closely while he waited, hoping that he didn’t hear anything related to you come over the device.

Then he heard it. The front door opening and closing followed by keys in the bowl and a bag hitting the floor.

You were home, so at least there’s that relief.

He looked up and over as you walked by, arm cradling the other as you sniffled.

“Chris was worried about you.”

Eddie watched you tense, but you didn’t turn to face him.

He stood walking over to you. “He told me you had a panic attack when you came home today, you know, after you yelled at Buck to leave. Then you weren’t here when he went to bed. He knows something is wrong, and he’s worried it’s his fault.”

That made you turn, allowing Eddie to see the rush of tears on your face as you still cradled your arm.

“No, God no. This is nowhere near Chris’s fault.” Your voice was thick with emotion as you spoke and the realization dawned on you that you would have to tell Eddie everything.

“Did I do something? Because I thought we talked about things and worked things out. If I did, please tell me… I want to fix it… I can’t lose you…”

“Oh Eddie…”

“Please mi vida…” Eddie’s voice was soft and low as he rubbed your arms.

You covered your mouth, attempting to conceal the sob of pain and regret. But you couldn’t hide the small yelp or your bloody fist.

Concerned, Eddie put his hands on your shoulders, freezing when he felt the slipped ball and socket joint and you sobbed into your hand.

“Sweetheart?”

“Fix it… please, it hurts so bad…”

Eddie nodded and carefully got himself into position, “You ready?” “Just do i- AH!” Mid sentence, Eddie popped your shoulder back into place.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he soothed as you sobbed into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry Eddie… I’m so sorry…”

He ran a hand through the hair at the back of your head, “Hey, lets get your hands cleaned up okay? Then we’ll talk, yeah?”

You nodded before stepping back, instinctively wiping your face with the back of your hand — smearing a little blood on your face.

Eddie tensed a little, that was the worst he’s seen your knuckles and it was starting to look suspicious to him. But you had come home the other times with no other injuries so he had no reason to question you about it.

But he could see clearly that something was wrong. Very wrong.

Eddie gently grabbed your hand and took you to the kitchen.

Without a word he sat you on the counter and grabbed the med kit from under the sink.

You both stayed quiet as he dampened a towel and cleaned you up, he inspected for tenderness and any signs of trauma to your hands other than the obvious.

Once he was done, you both sat in silence for a moment before you spoke up.

“It’s not what it may look like…”

“Oh yeah? Cause it looks like you’ve been fighting. I've seen the bruises on your knuckles but I don’t say anything because I didn’t want to assume. But after today I don’t know what to think.”

Your eyes fill with tears and you shake your head. “That’s not it, I swear. It’s just…” A weight settled on your chest as you realized this was the moment you would have to tell him and possibly change your relationship forever.

“Honey… please talk to me, I’m scared. I don’t want to lose you.”

And with that the damn was broken and you sobbed into your hands.

Eddie gave you a moment to calm down, comforting you as best he could until you were ready.

Once you were composed, you spilled everything.

From you needing to stay late to you going to the break room for a snack to when Scott walked in and shoved your dignity in the paper shredder.

Eddie was listening intently, his rage rising in his body but he tried not to show it and keep a gentle expression for your sake.

But hearing you, here and now, sounding so ashamed and scared. Recounting the night in detail.

And he had been so caught up in the job change that he hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t noticed that the love of his life was suffering because he wasn’t there.

It wasn’t until his son came to him that he noticed something was wrong.

“Eddie, I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry,” you sobbed, clinging onto him. “It didn’t… I didn’t want it, please you have to believe me.”

He felt his heart shatter in his chest.

You were begging for forgiveness for something that wasn’t your fault.

“I believe you Sweetheart, I believe you.”

He pulled back a little, “I-Is this why you’ve been going to the gym?” You nodded, whimpering a little as more tears filled your eyes, “You won’t always be there… and I just… I want to be ready to protect myself or Christopher.”

You held your hand up and flexed it a little, “I saw Scott for the first time since that night today at work, that’s why I had the panic attack. And I needed an outlet, I didn’t know I was bleeding until I dislocated my shoulder.”

Eddie wiped your eyes, “Y/N I’m so sorry I never noticed… I should have been there…” You shake your head, “I didn’t tell you Eddie, you were going through a lot and I didn’t want to add on…”

He frowned a little but kissed your forehead. It made him feel awful that you thought you couldn’t come to him. You were processing something alone while helping him get better and that wasn’t fair.

“Would you be willing to go to a professional about this? For you and for us? Just so we can learn to get through this together,” he laced your fingers together and kissed your knuckles.

You nodded and pressed your forehead to his, “I want to try.” You brought in a breath, “I have to quit my job…”

He hummed and nodded against you, “Please quit, I make enough, we'll be okay. And we can pull from savings if we need to.”

“Thank you.”

Eddie nudged your nose with his, “I love you, so much.”

You smiled softly and flattened your palm over his heart, “I love you too, Eds. So so much.”

He wrapped you in his arms and just held you there. Planting gentle kisses to your head and whispering little jokes in your ear to make you laugh.

And that’s when you knew that it would all be okay, that it would be better. Maybe not tomorrow, but someday.

As long as you had Eddie, you would be okay.

taglists: @bradleybeachbabe @valmare @fanboyswhore9 @cassiemitchell @startrekfangirl2233

hi, if you're seeing this and are currently not on the taglist and would like to be please fill out the taglist form -> whumptober taglist

i can not stress this enough, but whumptober can have some very serious and heavy topics and i want to make sure i am doing my part as an author to prepare my readers for what they are about to experience and that includes not only warnings above but my taglists as well

so if you want to be added check out the masterlist and read that carefully and fill out the form -> whumptober 2023

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tadc-harlequin-au · 2 months

Note

Hi! Hello! Hey!

I have a question about souls and puppets.

Can a soul exist without a body for a long time, for example a human year or two? And can a puppet be functional without a soul?

I have an idea for two Harlequin OCs and i want two write their story in a fanfic.

The idea is about puppet twins. A soul without body, and a body without soul.

So that's the whole idea. I need master advise! Tell me, Sensei, what should I do?

A soul may continue to exist, but unfortunately they will be stuck in a limbo. Contrasting the void's bright skies would be endless darkness surrounding the soul, as they float and "sleep", stuck in a dream simulation to help keep them stay afloat until a body suitable to house a life can be found.

One can communicate with the soul inside the die if capable, but it's like talking to a sleeping person, or a ghost completely oblivious to it's surroundings.

However, with such a unique case as yours... a Puppet with no soul, means that this bot technically falls under the category of a Marionette... but at the same time, it's not, due to the very specific circumstance of a Marionettes' secret true nature.

What's powering this Puppet body that has no soul?

#thanks for the ask!#tadc #tadc au #harlequin au #tadc harlequin au #the amazing digital circus #au oc

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its-all-or-nothing94 · 1 year

Text

Racing Hearts - Part 4 // Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: The first encounter with being in the public eye - and you're not to happy about it. But also: FIRST DAY ON THE PADDOCK!

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warnings: Pure Fluff and some snuggling

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

A/N: So, we are on our first day on the paddock :) AND I'M SO EXCITED THAT IT'S RACEWEEKEND AGAIN! (not only in my story)

Disclaimer: This story is purely fictional, and any character portrayals are just how I wrote them - hence fictional! I don't know them, except my OCs.

Tagging: @liebgotts-lovergirl, @softly-writes, @bellewintersroe, @faithm120601, @needtokeepfeelingsincheck, @bbygrllllllll

After your wonderful date, you woke up with a big smile plastered on your face, but just as the day before, Sofia came jumping into your room.

"Holy sweet cheeks, you are already famous!" she exclaimed, and you looked at her confused.

"What the hell are you talking about, Sof?" you asked, rubbing your eyes.

Sofia took out her phone and held it into your face. "About this, silly. They wrote about you. In the news !!"

You took Sofia's phone and stared at the tabloid.

Love Afloat: Charles Leclerc's Yacht Romance with Mystery Blonde - Is Isabella Rossi History? Monaco's beloved racer, Charles Leclerc, was seen sharing an intimate moment on his yacht with a stunning unknown blonde beauty. The pair seemed to be in a world of their own as they exchanged a passionate kiss under the Mediterranean sun. But what about his long-term relationship with glamorous model Isabella Rossi? Have the winds of change blown a new love into Charles's life? Our exclusive sources reveal that the young couple's romance has hit the rocks, with whispers of tension and heated arguments. Could this encounter with the mysterious blonde be a sign of moving on? We can't help but wonder - is Charles Leclerc ready to sail away from the past and embrace a new adventure with this enchanting stranger? Stay tuned as we keep you updated on all the juicy details!

You sat up straight in your bed, reading the article. "What the fuck! What is this?"

Sofia cocked an eyebrow. "This, my dear, is called being in the spotlight."

"What? I mean... why?" you asked, giving Sofia back her phone.

"Because you, sweetie, are dating Charles Leclerc. That's why." Sofia lay down on your bed, looking through the article again.

"We're not dating. We're just..."

"Snuggling?"

You took your pillow and threw it at Sofia, who looked at you shocked, but then you two started laughing.

"Just ignore it, okay? They write about everything they can get their hands on", Sofia assured you and you thought about it. You tried not to let this get to you.

The days passed, and Charles and you spent a lot of time together. He showed you all his favorite spots and places you would've never seen as a normal tourist.

As Monaco race week approached, Charles had to focus on the race more and more, and he had less time to spend with you. At that time, he sent you random cute texts to let you know that he was thinking of you.

You felt like you were in a dream, watching from the sidelines as Charles worked hard to prepare for the race. You knew how important this was to him, but it was hard not to feel a little left behind.

You didn't take it too personally, as you spent the days with Sofia and, to your surprise, also with Lorenzo, who was with them a lot since the encounter at Jimmy'z.

One morning Sofia and you went shopping to get new clothes for the race, as the brunette stated. And by shopping, Sofia meant raiding her father's store, among others.

When you approached Starbucks for a coffee, you almost collided with someone, and as you looked up, it was no other than Isabella. Charles's ex.

She looked you up and down, clearly remembering you. "Well, would you look at that? This is the new one I told you about", she said to her posse, and they giggled.

"This? You're telling me that Charles is dating this?" her friend said, and you and Sofia exchange a gaze.

"Yes, apparently. But don't worry. As soon as he realizes that that isn't good enough for him, he will come crawling right back to me", Isabella said, giving you a dirty look.

Sofia snorted, amused. "Wow, you really are as conceited as I thought you would be." She stood closer to Isabella, since she was almost as tall as Isabella. "Let me tell you one thing, starveling, just stay away from my girl here, and it would be best if you would from Charles, too. He is with her now, and he is as happy as he can be."

Isabella lost her face for a millisecond before she smirked at Sofia. "And what if I don't?"

Sofia snorted again. "If I see you near Y/N, I'll promise you, you won't recognize your face in a mirror for a long time."

Isabella and Sofia gave each other an eye duel before Isabella turned around and walked away with her posse.

"You know, you don't have to defend me, right? I'm more than capable of doing that myself."

Sofia chuckled. "I know, but little Miss My-Daddy-paid-for-my-modeling-career doesn't need to know that for now, does she?"

You and Sofia looked at each other and then laughed. "You're right."

As you and Sofia walked through the bustling paddock during Monaco Raceweek, your excitement was palpable. The atmosphere was electrifying, with the sounds of engines and the energy of the racing world surrounding them. The VIP and Ferrari pass that Charles had given them made you feel both special and a bit nervous, being amidst all the action.

As you turned a corner, they spotted Pierre chatting with some of the team members near the Scuderia Ferrari garage. He was wearing his Alpine Shirt. You exchanged a quick glance with Sofia, who offered a reassuring smile.

Pierre turned and noticed the two familiar faces approaching him. His eyes widened in surprise, and then a warm grin spread across his face. "Well, well, look who we have here!" he exclaimed, giving you and Sofia a playful wink.

You smiled back, relieved by Pierre's friendly greeting. "Hey, Pierre! It's great to see you again."

Sofia chimed in, "We're so excited to be at the Monaco Grand Prix. This whole experience is unbelievable."

Pierre gestured towards the garage, his excitement evident. "Welcome to the heart of Formula 1, ladies. It's the most prestigious race of the season, and it's going to be one hell of a weekend."

As they chatted, you noticed Charles making his way toward you, and your heart fluttered with excitement. He looked dashing in his Ferrari team attire, and your smile grew even wider. Charles gave Pierre a nod of acknowledgment before his gaze locked onto yours.

"Hey," Charles said warmly, pressing a gentle kiss on your cheek. "I see you've met Pierre again." He winked at his best friend, knowing well of your past playful banter.

You laughed, feeling more at ease with Pierre around. "Yes, and he's been showing us around the paddock. It's incredible!"

"Wait till you see the race," Charles said, a sparkle in his eyes. "It's going to be something else."

Pierre, ever the teasing friend, leaned in and grinned. "So, Charles, you didn't tell me you had such beautiful company joining us today."

Charles rolled his eyes but chuckled. "You know Y/N, and you know Sofia. They're here to enjoy the race."

Pierre raised his hands in mock defense. "I'm just saying, it's not every day we have two stunning ladies on the paddock."

Sofia laughed at the playful banter between the two friends while you blushed, feeling both flattered and a little bashful. You knew that Pierre was teasing, since you also knew that a lot of celebrities are attending the Formula 1 races, especially in Monaco.

As the day at the paddock drew to a close, it was time for you and Sofia to bid farewell to Pierre. You exchanged warm hugs and promises to catch up again soon. After Pierre left, Charles led them to the prestigious Ferrari motorhome, an exclusive area where the team members relaxed and strategized during the race weekend.

"Welcome to our humble abode," Charles said with a grin, gesturing toward the impressive motorhome.

You and Sofia stepped inside, your eyes widening in awe at the luxurious interior. Charles introduced you to some of the Ferrari team members, who greeted you warmly. Then, he led you to meet Carlos Sainz, his teammate.

"Hey, Carlos, these are some friends of mine, Y/N and Sofia," Charles said, smiling.

Carlos shook your hands with a friendly smile. "Nice to meet you both. I see Charles wanted you to have the supreme package."

You chuckled. "Oh, he's certainly not shy about it."

Sofia laughed, playfully nudging you. "And she's not shy about teasing him either. It's great to meet you, Carlos."

Carlos and Sofia seemed to hit it off immediately, engaging in lively conversation about the race, their experiences, and their interests outside of Formula 1. You couldn't help but smirk as you noticed the ease with which they connected.

Charles looked on, amused by the interaction between his teammate and Sofia. "Looks like you two are getting along well," he remarked.

Carlos nodded, grinning. "Yeah, Sofia is fun to talk to. You've got good taste in friends, Charles."

"Hey, I know," Charles replied with a playful wink, looking at you.

As the evening progressed, you and Sofia enjoyed spending time with the Ferrari team, soaking in the atmosphere of camaraderie and excitement. You were treated to a delicious snack and even got to see the team strategizing and preparing for the upcoming race.

As it was getting later, Charles walked up to you while Sofia was once again talking to Carlos.

"So... What do you say? Want to come over tonight?" he asked, and you looked at him a little surprised.

Before you could answer something, Sofia ran up to her. "OMG, Y/N, Carlos asked me out to dinner. You don't mind, do you?" she asked, and you looked at her.

"Of course not! Have fun!", you said and pushed Sofia in Carlos's direction. The two were talking and then said their goodbyes.

"So, does that mean you have time?" Charles asked, and you smiled.

"Apparently, I do."

Charles smiled and walked out of the paddock with you, leading you to his car. You were photographed as you left the paddock, and you tried to lower your head as best as you could. Charles led you to his car, and then you drove to his apartment.

As you entered, Charles put his things down and looked at you. "So, what do you wanna do?"

You smiled and looked around in his living room, especially at the big TV. You grinned at Charles, and he understood.

"Movie night it is", he smiled. He walked over to his room. "Do you want something more comfortable to wear?" he asked you from the bedroom.

"Oh, that would be great", you answered, and he stood in the door with some short sweatpants and a shirt. You took them and smiled at him.

"You can change in there. I'll put on something more comfortable as well", he said, pointing at the clothes in his hands as he made his way to the bathroom.

You went into his bedroom, changing into more comfortable clothes. You put her hair in a messy bun and decided to remove your makeup. Since you felt that comfortable with Charles, you didn't care.

As you stepped out of the bedroom again, Charles was already lighting some candles and his cozy living room, dimly lit by the soft glow of flickering candles strategically placed around the room. The evening sun has set, and the darkness outside is met with the warm ambiance inside.

Then you heard a popping coming from the kitchen when you smiled at Charles. "I see, you are prepared" you grinned, and he nodded.

"Hey, no movie without popcorn", he smiled, and then he realized that you were purely natural now, with no make-up and your hair in a messy bun. And he loved it.

He finished preparing the popcorn before hopping onto the couch and patting next to himself to invite you to sit with him. You smiled and sat down next to him as he spread a blanket over you.

"So, what movie should we watch?" Charles asked, looking at you with a playful grin.

Your face lit up with excitement, and you couldn't hide your enthusiasm for fantasy movies. "Oh, there are so many great ones to choose from! How about 'Lord of the Rings'? Or 'Harry Potter'? Or maybe 'The Chronicles of Narnia'?"

Charles chuckled, realizing that you had a vast selection of fantasy movies to choose from. "You really love your fantasy, don't you?" he teased.

You nodded eagerly, "Absolutely! I love the magical worlds and the epic adventures. It's like escaping to another realm."

Charles chuckled and looked at you with adoration, as you were already dipping into a different world. "Which one is your favorite?"

You looked at him, blushing. "Well, my all-time favorite is still Y/F/M, I guess", you said shyly, and he got up from the couch, and to your surprise, he put it in.

"Y/F/M it is", he said and sat back down.

You smiled warmly at him and then cuddled closer to him so that your bodies touched. As the movie went on, you got closer and closer to each other so that when the movie was almost finished, Charles had his arm around your back, softly caressing the skin on your back, as your shirt slid up a little and you had your head on his chest and one leg over his, breathing in his scent.

As the movie night comes to an end, you and Charles find yourselves wrapped in each other's embrace, still feeling the excitement and emotions of the films you watched. The closeness you shared during the movie has intensified your feelings for each other, and the atmosphere in the room becomes charged with undeniable chemistry.

Your lips meet in a passionate kiss, and you both feel the spark between you grow stronger. Your hands gently explore each other's bodies, and your hearts race with desire. However, amidst the passion, your voice breaks the moment.

"Charles," you whispers, your breath slightly uneven. "I... I'm not ready to take this step yet."

Charles stops immediately, understanding the importance of your words. He pulls back, looking into your eyes with genuine care and respect. "Y/N, I completely understand. We don't have to rush anything. I want to be with you, but only when you're ready."

You smiled gratefully, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. You appreciated Charles's understanding and the fact that he respected your boundaries. "Thank you, Charles. I really care about you, and I don't want to ruin what we have by rushing things."

Charles caressed your cheek tenderly, "You won't ruin anything. I'm here for you, and I want to take things at your pace. We'll always communicate openly and honestly about what we're comfortable with."

You pushed yourself up a little and gave him another tender kiss. "You are just the perfect gentleman, aren't you?"

Charles chuckled. "What can I say? My Mom had some strong opinions when it came to her parenting."

You smiled. "And what about your dad?" You noticed an immediate shift in his demeanor, and your smile faded. "Sorry, I didn't mean to overstep."

"You didn't", Charles said softly, smiling at you with a sad smile. "It's just that my Dad died a few years ago. He was really sick and well..." Charles sighed. "He is the reason I am what I am now."

You looked at Charles and caressed his chest, comforting him. "I'm sorry about your Dad, Charles."

"It's okay... Well, it was hard, but we managed." He cleared his throat and pulled you a little closer. "What about your family? I never asked. How are they feeling about you, being gone for so long?"

You chuckled. "Well, I'm really close to my Mom. It was always us two against the world." You averted your gaze slightly and pressed your lips together. "My Dad... Well, let's just say he's gone for a long time."

Charles realized that you didn't want to talk about it further and accepted it. "So, do you wanna watch another one or head to bed?" he asked instead.

You looked at your phone for the time and then stood up slowly. You stretched out your hand to Charles to pull him to his feet. "Bed it is. You have a tough day tomorrow, Mr."

Charles laughed and stood up as well. You put out all the candles and the electronics before heading to bed. You snuggled up to Charles as he opened his arms warmly for you. You could hear his heartbeat and just felt comfortable.

As you lay in each other's arms, Charles took a deep breath, gathering the courage to ask the question that's been on his mind. He looked into your eyes, a mix of vulnerability and hope in his gaze.

"Y/N, I've been thinking a lot about us, about where this is going," he began softly. "And I know it's still early, but I can't help but wonder what you see for us in the future."

Your heart skipped a beat at his question, and you appreciated his willingness to discuss your relationship openly. You took a moment to gather your thoughts, wanting to be honest with him.

"I've been thinking about it too," you admitted, your voice steady. "And I have to be honest with you, Charles. When we started this whole thing, I wasn't looking for anything serious. I wasn't prepared for the way I'm feeling about you now."

Charles nodded, understanding where you were coming from. "I felt the same way, to be honest. I never expected to fall for someone that quickly, especially with my career and everything that comes with it. But being with you has changed everything, Y/N. You've become such an important part of my life."

You smiled softly, feeling a warmth in your heart. "You're important to me too, Charles. That's why I'm worried about how all of this will work out. Your career is incredible, and I don't want to be the reason you miss out on anything."

He took her hand, gently intertwining your fingers. "Y/N, you're not holding me back. I want to be with you, no matter what. Yes, my career can be demanding, and there will be challenges, but I believe we can face them together."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and love in his gaze. "I want to be with you, too," you said softly. "But I'm just scared of how it might change things."

Charles nodded, understanding your fears. "It's natural to be scared, Y/N. But we don't have to figure it all out right now. Let's take it one step at a time, enjoy being together, and see where life takes us. And if at any point you feel overwhelmed or unsure, we'll talk about it, okay?"

Your heart swelled with love for this understanding man. "Okay," you replied, a small smile forming on your lips. "I'd like that."

He leaned in, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. "Good, because I really care about you, Y/N. And I want to be there for you, no matter what."

You cuddled closer, feeling a sense of peace wash over you.

#Charles Leclerc #Charles Leclerc x Reader #Charles Leclerc Fanfic #Formula 1 x reader #Formula 1 #Charles Leclerc Romance #Formula 1 Romance #Ordinary x Celebrity #Celebrity relationship #Racing Hearts #Kim writes again

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fluffytriceratops · 2 years

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𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐁𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 - 𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐨 [𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔]

Notes: the gif makes me think of the "i got it" moment between Mike and Leo. You'll understand when you read it. My writing is rusty and this is unedited because I'm lazy, so it might be shit. :D Possibly part one? I might write a part two- idk yet. I was in the mood for angst and this has been sitting in my drafts for literally ages so I figured I'd finish it up and post it since it's also been ages since I've posted a TMNT imagine! ALSO- REQUESTS ARE CURRENTLY OPEN! If you would like to submit a request, please do so via asks, and please read my rules on my blog before hand, thank you! <33

Warnings: mature language, ANGST, mentions of addiction, mentions of alcohol, mental/emotional abuse, mentions of depression, brief mentions of self harm, etc.

Tags: @thelaundrybitch @rheawritesforfun @digitl-art-monstr @leosgirl82 @turtle-babe83 @mysticboombox @drowninghell @squirrelfurs @lec743 @post-apocalyptic-daydream @bibiz82 @raphslovemuffin80 @raphielover @tmntspidergirl

(If you would like to be tagged in my future TMNT realted posts (let me know if you want just reader insert stuff or if you want OC related content included) feel free to lemme know and I'll happily add you!)

Thank you for reading! Have a lovely day/night! Stay safe and make sure to take care of yourselves! I'm sending all the virtual hugs to you~! <3

***

Her gaze was locked onto the screen of her phone. She had opened her camera app to double check her appearance before going in, but what she saw caught her off guard. The large purple bags under her eyes, the paleness of her skin. All the weight she had lost was visible in her face alone, no matter how hard she had tried to hide it under baggy clothes. She didn't need anyone worrying about her. She could take care of herself... Y/n knew she hadn't been sleeping well. Not at all, actually. The only time she got the chance to get some rest was when she passed out from sheer exhaustion. Was it unhealthy? Oh absolutely. But she couldn't help herself. It didn't help that she worked two jobs. Ever since her father got fired, she was the one who had to keep everyone afloat. It was driving her mad.

Taking in a shaky breath, she shoved her phone back into her sweater's pocket and began to walk the rest of the way to the lair. It wasn't far. It didn't take long at all for her to get there. Once she stepped inside, she was greeted by the smell of pizza. Her stomach turned and she felt nauseous immediately. Y/n hadn't told anyone that she had gone on a diet. Not yet, anyway. Nor did she tell them she had stopped eating much at all. She was fine, they didn't need to know.

Y/n tucked a few strands of loose hair behind her ear, she took in another shaky breath before walking up to where they were. Their voices were loud and expressive. Raphael let out a bark of laughter, slapping Mikey on the shell in amusement. Leo was busy talking with April, and Casey was stuck chatting with Vern. It was Donatello who had noticed her first. "Hey, Y/n! We were starting to think you wouldn't make it!" He greeted with a cheerful smile.

She tried not to flinch under their sudden gazes. Pulling her lip between her teeth anxiously. God, she felt like vomiting. She needed to leave. "Yeah! You're late dude! What took you so long!?" Michelangelo whined, walking over and moving to sling an arm across her shoulders. She ducked under him before he got the chance.

"N-Nothing, really. Just took my time." Y/n shrugged, shuffling over towards the rest of them hurriedly. She had been dodging their embraces recently, and they were starting to notice. Mikey pursed his lips in a pout, missing the skeptic look on his brother's faces. They had all been brushing off her behavior, but this had been going on for what felt like forever. She was starting to look worse each time they saw her. There was one turtle who knew more than the other's. One who had suspected something was off a lot sooner than everyone else. Leonardo watched Y/n closely. Blue eyes practically glued to her.

"What kind of pizza would you like? We got meat lovers, cheese, veggie-" she cut Donnie off. "None, thanks. I'm uh, dieting." She shrugged, rocking on the balls of her feet nervously. Y/n could feel his eyes boring into her. Her heart rate increased rapidly. Pounding against her rib cage in a desperate plea to flea. Don looked at the other's briefly before turning his gaze back to the female. He nodded slowly, "Okay. Um, would you like something else?" Y/n's hands tightened in her pockets, curling into fists. She simply shook her head. "No thanks.. Not hungry.."

The room grew oddly silent for a few beats. Vern coughed obnoxiously into his elbow just to clear the silence. Leo had yet to look away from Y/n. It made her feel more nervous than anything else. Why was he starring at her? Couldn't he look somewhere else? Just when she was about to say or do something she'd definitely regret, Casey had spoken up. "So, uh, Y/n- I saw your dad today." Her head snapped towards him in a matter of seconds. It was a wonder how she didn't get whiplash. "You did? Where?"

She sounded nervous, and the other's picked up on it immediately. Raph and Donnie caught each other's gaze before the red clad turtle looked towards their leader. Leo was silent and observing. He stood still with his arms folded over his chest. Lips pressed into a flat line and brow ridge lightly furrowed. Raphael watched his brother closely, but his attention was moved else where as the conversation continued.

Casey, who was glad to get away from Vern, stepped forwards. Snatching himself up another slice of pizza. "Convenience store, on West Street. I was grabbing the drinks for today and bumped into him. His hand was all bandaged up, apparently he went to the ER today." He said before taking a merry bite out of the delightful pie. Y/n's gaze darkened.

Stop talking. Shut up. Don't say another word. Please. She all but begged, starring at him numbly. She knew this already. She was the one who dropped him off at the hospital. If it were possible, Y/n felt sicker than before. Her hands began to shake, she was just glad they were hidden in the pockets of her hoodie. She bit her tongue to stop from bolting. Everyone else was quiet, listening to Casey's story. Looking between the both of them as he spoke. She wanted to cry. "I know." She said, barley managing to get the words out.

Casey didn't seem to catch on. Or if he did, he continued to speak about it anyway. "So you know he put his hand through a window?" He was looking at her intensely, hell everyone was. Especially Leo. His gaze felt like fire, burning holes into her skull. She wanted to combust into flames. Right then and there.

"Yeah. Anything else." Y/n's tone grew bitter, and she couldn't help but glare at him. Hoping, praying, that he would just drop it and leave her alone. Casey ignored her. "Well, I know it's your mom's birthday. And I know it's been hard for the both of you. So y'know, we just wanted to check in." He gestured towards all of them, and she barley managed to peek towards them. Had they been talking about her?

"Casey-" April warned, shaking her head subtly at him. Either he didn't see it, or he ignored her as well. "And he was very charming. But he seemed kind of sad. I'd hate to see it happen again, so maybe you should keep a better eye on him." Was he serious? He couldn't be fucking serious, right? Y/n felt like she had swallowed cotton balls. Her nails punctured her skin and she igno red the light stinging. She was staring at a random crumb on the table. Gazing at it as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. Completely and utterly silent.

Leo's arms unfolded and he took a step towards her, but she quickly turned her gaze back to Casey. "Everyday is my mother's birthday.." She started, gaze icy, voice venomous. Leo stopped in his tracks, everyone was looking at her, but she focused on Casey solely. "My mother was born in December. He lied. He's a liar." Tears glazed at the corners of her eyes but she's refused to let them fall. Voice rising in anger.

"And I'm glad- really, I'm glad that you found him charming. I'm sure he was delightful. He's a blast after five drinks. Not so much after nine though, he get's a little weepy and mean." Mikey's eyes widened and he looked towards his older brother's worriedly. She hadn't uttered a word of this before, it was the first time anyone was hearing it. Leo's jaw clenched but she hadn't noticed it. Too busy focusing all her pent up anger on Casey. "He's a drunk. He probably came in and told you how wonderful you are. How he wished he could have a son like you. And how sad he is because he doesn't get to spend more time with me." She hadn't meant to cry, but the tears had started to slip down her pale cheeks. Y/n wiped at them angrily.

Casey stood there in shock, taking in her angry words carefully. He didn't dare say anything, all he did was look at her and take it. "Yesterday he said that I was his favorite daughter. The day before, I was an ungrateful bitch. The week before- he wrote me a check fortwenty thousand dollarsbecause he said I deserved everything life had to offer. Because he was so proud of me. A lifetimes worth of proud..." her voice cracked and her bottom lip trembled. Y/n looked down, forcing her hair to partially hide her face. She tried to collect herself as she wiped at her tears with her sleeve. "You can't listen to a word that man says. Everything that comes out of his mouth is about as many bottles as he can stomach before he either vomits it up or passes out."

"But thank you for telling me to keep a better eye on him." Y/n shook her head and turned on her heal. Storming out of the room and out of the lair altogether. She was tired of all this bullshit.

"Y/n! Wait!" Mikey moved to go after her but Leo clamped a hand down onto his shoulder. "I got it..." He muttered, casting an annoyed glance at Casey from over his shoulder before he chased after the h/c female.

"Well that was a train wreck." Vern muttered, wincing at the glare Casey shot in his direction. "How was I supposed to know." He hissed. "It's not like Y/n's a very open person."

"We all knew something was up, I'm sure Casey just wanted to make sure she was okay." April said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Case smiled at her briefly in thanks.

"I wish she would have said something..." Donnie whispered, twiddling his 'thumbs' nervously. "Maybe we could have helped her somehow."

"Y/n's stubborn. She doesn't wanna rely on anyone else. She doesn't wanna be a burden." Raph grumbled, shrugging his shoulders. "Still. I wish she would lean on us a little more. I'd like ta give her father a piece of my mind." He huffed.

Michelangelo's lips pulled into a frown. "You.. You don't think he hits her, do you?" The room fell silent, and everyone turned their gazes towards the area she had left.

"Leo'll make sure she's okay." Don spoke quietly, hands clenching each other desperately.

━

She knew he was following her. But he didn't approach. Not in the sewers, and not outside of them, either. He was waiting for the right time. Giving her a chance to cool off. If anything, the fact that Leo had come after her only pissed Y/n off more. She didn't want to get a lecture from him. She didn't want to rant. She wanted to lay in bed and cry. And she wanted to do it alone.

Y/n managed to hold herself together pretty well. She only let a few tears and sniffles slip out on her way back home. She lived in a sketchy part of the city in a small and dinky apartment. It was her, her two sisters Lucy and Amelia, and their father. Her mother had died a few years back. Her father was never the same after that. He ended up losing the job he had since before he met his wife. He couldn't keep a job afterwards, either. And he started drinking. He drowned his sorrows in alcohol. Any little bit of money he made went straight into alcohol. Lucy was the youngest, she had yet to start high school. Amelia was the oldest. She spent most of her time at her home with her fiance and their newborn son. She couldn't stand to even look at their father. She refused to see him. They always fought, too. Amelia wanted to take Y/n and Lucy with her, but Lucy was in custody of their father. And Y/n refused to leave him to rot.

Y/n's keys jingled as she pulled them from her pocket and jammed them into the deadbolt on the door of her apartment. She knew Leo would already be inside when she entered. And if not, then he was waiting on her fire escape.

The door slammed shut behind her, she kicked her shoes off by the door and walked further inside. There was no sight of her father, so he must be out. Most likely at the bar down the street. It was within walking distance and it was the weekend. There was no way he wouldn't be there. Lucy was sleeping over at Amelia's for the weekend, which meant she was home alone.

The thought would have been extremely comforting had Leonardo not been lurking around the corner.

She passed through the kitchen and walked down the hallway that lead to the bedrooms. Amelia's old room was first, it was completely empty now. Y/n shared a room with Lucy. She was supposed to move into Amelia's room after Amelia moved out, but Lucy didn't feel safe alone. And it wasn't just her father making her feel that way. Y/n was comforting to her. Knowing she was sleeping in the same room kept her calm. Their father's room was the last one. The door was always closed. No one was ever allowed in. He slept on the couch more than his own bed.

The second Y/n pushed her bedroom door open she saw Leonardo standing at the foot of her bed. Patiently waiting for her.

Y/n's gaze hardened, but she said nothing. She kicked the door shut behind her and walked past him to her desk. She needed to do something. Anything. She just needed to keep busy. So she started to organize her college assingments.

Leo remained quiet, simply watching her. After a few minutes of Y/n shuffling papers and slamming drawers he opened his mouth. "Y/n."

"Don't." She snapped, tensing at the sound of his voice.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say..." He breathed, blue; blue eyes glued to her. Scared that if he looked away she would crack and break into a million pieces.

"I don't want you to say anything." She mumbled, voice strained. Her movements had seized. She simply stood there, back facing him. Honestly she was afraid that if she turned and caught sight of his ocean colored eyes, she'd burst.

The room grew quiet again. Y/n knew he was looking at her. She could feel his intense gaze plastered to her back. Studying every small movement she made. The light tremble of her hands. The slight shaking of her shoulders. The wobbling of her knees. Y/n tried to hold herself together. Keep the tears at bay. It was a fools wish.

She could feel his presence. Feel him walking closer. Till he was just a few meesly inches away from her. Leo was so close she knew if she took the tiniest of steps backward his chest would connect with her back. His hand grazed her arm and she broke the silence with a sharp inhale.

And she crumbled.

Tears blurred her vision as she gasped out a shuddering sob. A sob that shook her entire body. One that stole the breath from her lungs and broke her heart into millions of microscopic pieces. She collapsed against him and he held her tightly against his plastron. Strong arms hooking around her waist and pulling her flush against him.

Leonardo said nothing as she cried. It wasn't the first time she cried in his arms. And it most certainly wouldn't be the last.

Nothing was said or done. Neither of them moved. He just held her tight as she let out everything she had been holding in. By the time her cries had quieted, and tears dried on her skin. The sun had started to set. Basking the room in its warm fading glow through the window. Painting the two of them in a lovely array of yellows, oranges, and pinks.

Leo slowly turned Y/n around. Even when she was crying, she was utterly beautiful. Achingly so. He placed his hand under her chin and slowly tilted her red face upwards. Her e/c dewy eyes met his own. There was no longer a wall between them. He had managed to break it down in a matter of seconds. And now, all her pain was visible to him in her eyes.

There was a reason they say eyes are the windows to the soul.

Leo had built his own wall. One he kept up at all times. Around everyone. Everyone except her.

No words needed to be expressed between either of them. They already knew exactly how the other was feeling. With one simple glance. That's all it took. All it ever took.

Leonardo leaned down instinctevly, slowly and cautiously. Waiting and watching to see if she would pull away. Y/n never did. Instead, she slowly and hesitantly moved closer. That's when their lips connected.

A soft and deseperate kiss was shared. He held her face delicately, as if she would crumble into dust in his arms. Y/n clutched at him desperately, afraid he'd see how truly broken and damaged she was and pull away. Leo wasn't going anywhere. Something he told her with his lips as he peppered her skin with kisses. And when he reached her mouth again, he kissed her hard. He poured his soul into her. She drank him up.

As they parted for air. Y/n gasping for a whole other reason. He grabbed her hand and pressed a few more tender kisses to her knuckles. Eyes locked. Chests heaving. Hearts pounding.

Their souls danced the same.

"You don't have to hide around me. There's no need to barricade your feelings anymore." Leo whispered, brushing his thumb against the back of her hand. "You can show me the darkest and scariest parts of yourself. I'm not going anywhere."

A few more tears slid down her tender red cheeks. They caught the light of the sun and shone like tiny falling stars. He brushed them away with his lips.

"Even if I'm destined to crumble into nothing?" Y/n breathed, placing her hand on his chest. Fingertips tracing the markings engraved into his plastron from years of battle and training.

"Even if you're destined to crumble into nothing." Leo whispered, pressing a loving kiss to each rosey cheek. "I'll always be here. Right here. In your arms, where I belong."

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novastaar · 2 months

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*casually drops an OC from a show made for toddlers*

This is Trixie, a silly fennec fox desert ecologist from the Sahara! (LOTS of lore under the cut)

Her first experience with the Octonauts was when she was woken up by Kwazii after he'd gotten lost in the Sahara desert. She gave him directions to a nearby oasis, where he was found and picked up by the other Octonauts. She had refused to step out of her territory, though, how strange...

Her next encounter with the Octonauts was in the Arctic (A fennec fox? In the Arctic? How could that have happened?). Barnacles found her freezing and trying to stay afloat on a floating chunk of ice and brought her back to the octopod, where Peso took care of her for a while, as she'd been in very bad condition.

They still didn't know how she got to the Arctic, though. And she wouldn't tell them...

After helping out on a few missions (sometimes against Peso's direct orders) the crew dubbed her an official Octonaut. She wasn't a very strong swimmer, but she more than pulled her weight, despite being the youngest on the team (she's like 18 years old and living on her own somehow).

After a while, though, she became an octo agent and went back to live in the Sahara. This was mostly because the constant traveling messed up her sleep schedule really bad (and she's nocturnal, so she probably got less than an hour of sleep each night) and she fell asleep during missions from time to time.

I'm definitely planning on making more stuff about Trixie in the future, so let me know if you want to see more of her on my account so you can learn about her (probably traumatic VERY NORMAL) past!

#octonauts #octonauts oc #oc #oc art #oc lore #lore #trixie is a silly bean #she gets literally zero sleep #but she refuses to ask for help with anything #she's as bad as barnacles

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plutopools · 1 year

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about rocky and lola

(ahoy! oc x canon/self ship ahead! also, walls of text)

some of you guys wanted to know more about my oc, so here you are!

i would also like to preface this by saying: i am not an immigrant. while i am of italian descent, there are things in here that i cannot relate to because i was born in the us. please let me know if my oc is a gross representation of immigrants. i would feel awful if my character offended or misrepresented anybody. i won't be upset, i promise. please let me know

before lola met rocky:

lola immigrated from italy to the united states in 1912, due to the rise of crime and poverty. while i would also say fascism too, but mussolini didn't start his regime until the early 1920's.

she immigrated with her father and paternal grandmother. they would move around a lot while her father scrambled to find work. they finally settled in saint charles, missouri. her father worked several jobs to stay afloat.

while lola doesn't have many memories with her father, she knew that he was doing his best as a single dad who only knew so much english.

the few things that her father and her would do when he wasn't busy, is play guitar- which is how she got into playing music. (this is important to her adulthood btw- put a pin in it)

they lived a few houses down from the mcmurray household.

during that time, lola really locked down on learning english. her nonna was more like a drill sergeant when it came to teaching her granddaughter a different language. in some instances, she'd wake lola up in the middle of the night for quizzes. lola wouldn't say anything about it though. you don't talk back to nonna.

lola would also do insane amount of chores for nonna, and she'd take advantage of this full force.

this might make it seem like her nonna was uncaring and cruel, she really wasn't. she is more of a cool disney grandma than anything else. she's just looking out for her granddaughter the best way she knows how.

after lola met rocky:

after a while, rocky and lola bumped into each other when they were 11 and became friends.

'bumped into each other' is a cuter way of describing their first interaction. in reality, lola found rocky stuck in a bush and helped him out. it was awkward. but they warmed up to each other!

lola understood most english, however didn't understand rocky's grandiloquent way of speaking.

while rocky wanted to be courteous and speak in a way easier for her to understand, lola wouldn't allow him too. she wanted him be himself. that, and she also didn't want to be 'dumbed down' in a sense. she wanted to understand more english, and was adamant about it.

rocky inadvertently helped her with a lot of vocabulary, simply just listening to him and and asking him questions if she couldn't put the pieces together.

this also made her love his poetry, especially when they became teenagers.

rocky enjoyed listening to her speak in italian. with his fondness of romanticism and the renaissance period, he thoroughly enjoyed just listening to lola. it would be his very few instances of calmness.

he also thought her accent was adorable (who can blame him though? children speaking in italian is really cute)

music is when rocky and lola had the most fun. they would play music for hours, teach each other how to play their instruments, create instruments with glasses and cartons.

they were both just shining balls of creativity, and being together sparked it even more

( a little side note, but i headcanon rocky as an ENFP, and lola as an INFP )

rocky was, of course, much more adventurous. he'd drag lola into situations all the time. this would get her into a lot of trouble depending on how dangerous the 'adventure' was.

lola never got angry at him however. if anything, she was glad it happened.

there were only a few instances were lola ever raised her voice at rocky, but they were for good reasons.

lola was iffy about aunt nina. while she tried to understand why she acted the way she did, she just never understood her disdain towards rocky.

lola never disliked nina, she was very nice to her when she was by herself. but she also didn't like her in a way either.

rocky never opened up about his past until later in life, so she didn't know much about why he didn't have parents or why he was living with his aunt's. and frankly, she didn't want to pry.

lola knew, in a small way, what it was like to not be raised by your parents, so she didn't want to make him feel anymore alienated than he already did by asking questions.

she just understood, and rocky appreciated her so much for that.

for a brief synopsis of their childhood friendship: rocky helped lola come out of her shell and take risks, while lola helped rocky enjoy the littler things in life and taking things slow.

i'll talk about their relationship as teenagers in a later post, because this one is just so long as it is.

i imagined lola singing this and i started smiling like an idiot

#oc x canon #oc backstory #lackadaisy oc #rocky x oc #self ship #ignore any spelling mistake my glasses do not work for me anymore lmao #SoundCloud

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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 months

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The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: The Jacksons make me feel so warm and giddy -Danny Words: 1,968 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Brother' -by Vraell

LVII: Not to Self-Diagnose or Anything but I Need a Nap

Ara is still recovering from giving in to her murderous urges when the sea attacks them. Everyone except Jason is on deck trying to keep the ship afloat, but Ara realizes they can't spare the son of Jupiter, so she goes to get him.

"Alright, Ken, rise and shine!" Ara crashes against the doorframe. "On a scale of one to ten, how much do you wanna die today?"

Jason pushes himself up. "Eight."

"I was joking and now I'm concerned!" Ara sounds too enthusiastic for her words to sound genuine. "But I'll take it because we need you, so come die like a hero and not like a Victorian child!"

Ara helps him leave his bed, carrying him through the stairs until they're above. "You know, Jace," she grunts as the ship sways violently. "I think therapy would lessen your near-death experiences, something tells me they're related..."

"Shut up or I'll puke on you," Jason groans, unable to keep his head upright.

She looks at him, her voice turning serious. "I can't let you help unless you promise me you'll fight for you, Jason! Not for us!"

The boy locks eyes with her and he tenses his jaw. "What do you think I'm doing?"

"You're drowning in guilt," she can barely hear him above the storm. "But that wound won't close unless you start to respect yourself!" The ship screeches harshly and Ara looks around. "Let's go to Percy!"

The others look at her like she's gone crazy as she walks past them holding Jason, but when Percy sees them he nods casually and points ahead. Something below the ocean's surface is causing the storm and he wants to swim down and attack it directly. He asks Ara to stay and keep the ship afloat.

Percy doesn't need to speak a lot for her to understand, a few gestures and words, and Ara gets the general idea. Jason looks a bit worried yet eager to help. "Are you sure you can work alone?"

"I'll throw you overboard myself!" She scowls. "Go!"

Ara summons Poseidon's blessing the moment both boys jump into the sea, stretching her arms out and doing her best to create a current that balances out the tides that hit it from every side. Using one blessing at a time for long periods no longer drains her, but now, even after almost half an hour, her arms aren't even shaking.

"It's over... I think," Annabeth approaches her, drenched from head to toe.

"Jason and Percy," Ara leans over the handrail. "Should we look for them?"

"That's them!" Piper calls from the other side of the ship. "Leo, help me!"

"So you're a priest now?"

"Pontifex."

"And that healed you?"

"Basically," Jason says happily. "Good as new."

"If you're a priest does that mean you'll be celibate forever?" Leo smirks.

"I said Pontifex, not son of Hephaestus."

Hazel chokes on her ginger tea and Frank pats her back and scolds the two boys. "Guys!"

"You are infuriating," Ara says with her mouth full. "I can't get my own special label because then you go out of your way to get your own! That's so rude—"

Festus sets off an alarm and everyone jumps, Leo takes a moment to listen to what the dragon is saying and translates it to his friends. "Sea serpent again, Percy..."

The boy nods, looking slightly green—he got poisoned again—and waves at the others. "You keep eating. Birdy, care to join me?"

Ara gets up without arguing, perhaps he feels too weak to handle it alone. Once on deck, Percy stares at the sea and points at a bright yellow creature. "There."

"Cool, a banana. Do you want to talk?" Ara draws out her flintlock.

"Whoa! Since when do you own a gun?" Percy asks, staring at it with horror.

"You hadn't seen it?" Ara raises a brow. "I've got it for a couple of weeks now."

"And you know how to use it?"

"No, Percy, I lost four fingers and left Frank in a wheelchair," she replies with a straight face.

Percy frowns. "Alright, I walked into that one." He watches the serpent and tilts his head. "Banana wants to fight—I can get us closer and you can use your Nerf gun."

"Sweet."

"Let's wait a bit, I'm still woozy..." Percy makes a face. "And let's tackle everything, while we're at it," he leans on the railing. "Jason told me what you said to him."

"It worked, didn't it?" She replies, thinking he's about to scold her.

"I've been feeling the same way," Percy confesses. "I don't wanna freak out Annabeth, so... you can keep the secret, right?"

There is a lump in her throat when she realizes the wall between them has lost height, and now she can meet his gaze. "You almost died again, drowning," Ara acknowledges, referring to the fight with his half-sister.

"Jason saved me by making that deal... he also saved himself, but I don't know if Annabeth told you what happened with the goddess of Misery..."

"Yeah," Ara replies, understanding where this is going. "I get why you did it, though. Sometimes you're over your head and it's so tempting to just..."

"Be cruel?" Percy submits.

"Someone has to be the bad guy," Ara sighs, staring at the serpent. "And we'll always be the lesser of two evils, Percy."

His eyes sadden a bit. "When I was about to kill Misery... it didn't feel like that."

"You were angry," Ara reasons. "None of us want to die, but we both know that the people we're thinking of when we're fighting death aren't ourselves."

Her brother runs a hand through his hair, a bit stiff from the sea salt. "We got attacked by the arai too... I got curses from all the monsters I've killed and other beings I've hurt... and as I suffered, it felt fair. It made me wonder..."

"If that's how I feel about my curse?" She guesses with a sad smile. "The way I see it, I got the opportunity of a lifetime—literally—and the price to pay is all I have."

"And you think it's worth it?" Percy questions, it doesn't sound like he'll judge her if she says yes.

"I don't know," she confesses. "I wanna say yes, but that's only because Leo is entangled in it. If it were about me only, I'd probably think it's shitty."

Percy prepares to jump. "Banana's getting closer."

The boy summons a tide to carry them, Ara keeps talking but she raises her voice to be heard over the water. "I think the lack of empathy for myself comes from the fact that someone always had it worse. In the orphanage I was one of the pretty ones, Leo thinks I would've been adopted in no time—at camp, I was an Aphrodite, I was overlooked. The list goes on..."

Once they're close enough to the sea serpent, Ara tosses the Greek fire vial she took from a box on deck, then points her flintlock and shoots, exploding it on the serpent's face. Percy summons a tide to protect them from the blast and they wait a few seconds to see the golden dust vanish in the ocean. They go back to the ship.

"So you risk your life to validate your feelings?"

"No," they reach the Argo and Ara seizes a rope to climb. "I'm saying everyone else had something bigger going on, so it was only right I took care of the chores no one wanted. I had it better than most."

"Who was saying these things to you?" Percy grunts, climbing after her.

"The voices aren't real, Nemo, they're in my head," Ara clarifies. "Someone might've said it once or twice and I took it to heart. I don't know."

He gets on deck. "This... is probably the most depressing conversation we've ever had."

"Yeah..." They share a look and Ara pats his arm. "That means it's naptime!"

Ara wakes up to Leo cussing on the cabin across the hall, the ship is making a weird sound like it's sailing through the gravel and she leaves her room quickly only to crash against Leo in the hallway.

"Easy, doll!" He catches her. "Had a nightmare?"

"What's that sound?" She asks drowsily.

"That's our daughter getting wrecked by the mighty power of a rock," Leo scowls. "Every time I fix something, another thing breaks. You hear the engine, begging to be put out of its misery? That's how my brain sounds nowadays."

Ara rubs her eyes, too sleepy for his ranting. "You know, I had the saddest talk with Percy the other day, and weirdly enough, I've been sleeping like a baby ever since... and yet I still feel like I've been run over by a truck every time I wake up."

"Leo, we're unstuck!" Percy calls from outside.

"I should do a checkup to see what we messed up this time," Leo sighs. "Wanna come?"

"I should," she mumbles, walking after him.

Proof of how exhausting this last stretch has been is that none of them have the energy to fuss or ask how they're doing. Their sanity is hanging by a thread that gets thinner the more hits the Argo II takes.

"Maybe you're always tired because you're carrying eight blessings?" Leo continues their talk as they get to the control board. "Hercules said more than ten would make your body act up, but that doesn't mean having eight will do nothing."

"There's always some stupid monster to fight or something to fix, that's what's killing me," Ara picks up her hair in a ponytail and reads the monitors. "It's the fifth tube again."

"Dammit!" Leo complains. "Can you take care of it?"

"I'll need some of that black tape, pincers, and—"

"Safety gloves," the boy places all the tools in her hands. "Insulating tape. Pincers."

Ara nods without excitement. "You're the love of my life."

"I know," Leo replies, an enduring scowl on his face as he focuses his gaze on the monitors. "Please don't kill the engine or I'll kill you."

Percy drags Ara out of the engine room to enjoy ice cream on the upper deck with the rest of the crew. She's been working like crazy, motivated by the fact that in two days, whether for better or worse, this is ending.

Ara sits on the rail and observes the town of Mykonos, absently eating an ice pop as she tries to enjoy the breeze. She keeps thinking of her conversations with Nike, Leo has run through the plan with the goddess looking for advice, and the goddess seems to be trying her best, wanting Leo to be her chosen champion.

"So, the island of Delos is right across the harbour," Piper says. "Artemis and Apollo's home turf. Who's going?"

"Me," Leo replies promptly. He's wearing a pirate hat Percy got him during his visit to the town, so he doesn't look exactly trustworthy. When the girls stare at him reluctantly, he pouts. "What? I'm diplomatic and stuff. Besides, it should be me, right?"

"Some of us should go with you," Hazel declares.

"Well, Ara said she wanted to rekindle the old flame with Apollo," Leo nudges her leg. "You still want to come, right? It's gotta be us."

Ara taps her palm with the wooden stick of her ice pop, nodding absently. "I guess..."

Leo watches her in awe. He remembers when the girl jumped off that golden chariot and glared at him with those dark-brown eyes that made his knees weak. Now he knows her in and out better than anyone, but the feeling of inferiority persists.

It's like meeting the pope—you know that's a person, but you still feel extremely out of place and there's nothing you can do to match the vibe, so you endure the absurdity. Ara has always been his miracle.

"Leo?"

The boy gives a start and turns to Jason. "What?"

"I said I don't feel comfortable letting you two alone. You know, since technically speaking, you are the ideal pair Gaea could use to wake up?"

"I'll go with them," Percy offers. "But I'll, uh—I won't interact with Apollo and Artemis if I can help it."

"That's fine," Ara hops off the railing and checks her compass. "Nemo, Firecracker, time to meet our executioner."

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicksh @ebony-reine-vibes

#twoidiots writing #pjo fanfic #leo valdez fanfic #doo #leo valdez x oc #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians

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noxxha · 2 years

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How do you think Madara would approach his wife? Children? What expectations would he have for them and how would he behave towards them?

Hello, anon - thank you for your question! Madara and how he would behave towards his wife and children eh? Let’s see…

——

I think Madara would treat his wife with respect. I do not agree with the characterization of him that he would beat, even abuse his wife, or force himself upon her - his character does not read that way in my eyes, not when you consider that - at his core - Madara was kind, compassionate and he valued family above all else. In an AU I can see him being into BDSM if nothing else, but even that practice is rooted in respect and trust.

Someone valuing family would not intentionally hurt them.

That means that he would at least respect his wife. Whether he would love her is rooted in many different headcanons of mine (I do have an OC that is romantically linked with him in pretty much every story that includes romance, for example), but I will keep this general and keep my OC out of the picture, but that does not entirely mean that I will say that he loved his wife…if going for a slightly more historically accurate depiction of the Narutoverse Madara would probably not “love” her, but at most be fond of his wife (or it would deepen into love in due time). If looking at his characterization he does strike me as the type of character that would love his wife, however - perhaps not entirely as strongly as he loved his family, but she would be some treasured by him regardless. So yes, I will say that he loved his wife like the complimentary piece that she was to him.

The expectations he would have for his wife is generally to be a “polite/kind” front for the rest of the clan. She would take care of the clan not unlike a mother caring for her child/ren, which means that she shouldered a more “social” responsibility than he would (in a way).

I headcanon that (Uchiha) women were exceptional in their own way. While they were seldom on the battlefront because they secured both the future and survival of the clan (yes there are undertones of sexism there, but if that is what it takes to survive then so be it), they were instead very capable at hunting, treating illnesses, and were very “survival orientated” in general.

This might better explain why Madara’s wife would have the responsibility she had. She was meant to bring the clan together and keep it afloat while the men risked their lives in the war/s. So Madara would make sure that she was trained in negotiations with villages (import and export), that she could handle money and spend their funds wisely, but also that she was compassionate and strict if need be.

He did not expect too much from her on the household front, like I headcanon with Izuna, he did not share the traditional view on man and woman there (because of his parents and their relationship): he preferred to help out whenever he could. Be it cooking, washing laundry, having a discussion or two about funds, cleaning the house - it was the type of normality he craved, as it helped him stay sane.

If he was married during the founding of Konoha I can see that his wife had a more political position as well. Being at Madara’s side as both someone supporting him, as well as challenging him (and Hashirama and Tobirama).

Madara’s behavior would in general be a kind one, soft one even, towards his wife. As is the case with Izuna, there were some gestures of affection only reserved for his brother, but Madara would have no issues with touching his wife - holding her hand, caressing her face, a hand on her shoulder and knee. Kissing her would be a gesture he only did in private, though.

Out in public he would loosely rest a hand against her waist, or they would walk with their arms linked, if they were meant to be seen together. If apart he would speak highly of her to his kinsmen, should anyone ask about her.

Madara would never - under any circumstance - force himself upon his wife. Love-making was a very sacred practice that was not consummated as often as people would perhaps think. It was also a very intricate dance where their roles changed from one night to the next. Madara had actually few issues with his wife being assertive between the sheets.

As is the case with the headcanons for Izuna, even with Madara I will make a distinction between the children of the clan and his own, biological children.

Like Izuna Madara would be gentle with children in general. He was the oldest of five, he practically raised Izuna alongside Tajima and their mother (until her passing as well), so I can see him as being kind - soft even - towards children.

But he will not tolerate disrespectful behaviour from them. There is a hierarchy in their clan, and while he is not quite so strict about it - as he perhaps should be - he will put even children in their place should he need to.

When sparring with children he is just as strict as his brother, but he is a touch more merciful than Izuna on the other hand - especially the youngest shinobi of their clan are allowed to hit him more times than anyone would hope to achieve in a single training session (If anyone but Izuna is his sparring partner, that is).

If Madara had children (I can see him as a father of three in total) of his own, he would be quite a “warm” father so to speak. He would be attentive to their needs and protect them from harm. Like Izuna he would have few issues with letting his child/ren climb over him, play with him and even pester him with questions about anything and everything - he would also put them aside as many times as it was required, to finish a particular task in peace. A sharp glance was often enough to get his disapproval across (no Sharingan, though).

As with his wife he would never - no matter the circumstances - raise his hand against his child/ren.

He would also - in private - harbour the wish (tiny as it was) that they would not grow up as shinobi, as well as harbouring the wish for a daughter (if pre-Konoha) for the sole reason that the chances of having to bury their own child was diminished. But he would of course love his daughter as well, with a similar fervor to the way he loved his wife. It would not come naturally how to raise a daughter, though - he was born the eldest of five brothers after all. Like Izuna, Madara believed in biological differences between men and women (Yin and Yang), but that would not be entirely helpful when caring for his daughter (until she was older).

While he would be a constant presence in the life of his child/ren, he would take a slightly more passive role if gifted with a daughter. Observing his wife and daughter, and learning so how to be there for her when she was beginning to walk and babble.

That said, he is well aware that his wish cannot be granted - and so he will train them to become the strongest they can be. Being strict, merciful and even a touch harsher on his own children, than those of the clan.

If Madara became a father after Konoha is founded, he would still be an attentive father (knowing the importance of his presence in their life) - but he would be a touch more subdued in his love for them, as the loss of Izuna would be that all-consuming that not even his child/ren could help him through it. He would wish for a son with all his heart, though, but would not follow through with his intention, of naming his son after his beloved brother, in the end.

But in general he would be a supportive father. Kind and warm, yet also a touch uncomfortable and cold at times (due to the war and the issues it caused within him). His neglect would never be intentional, however and his wife would make sure to educate their children about some of Madara’s PTSD-symptoms and make sure they never grew up feeling like they were in any way defect. But he would also be a father that in general touched his children a lot, as it was through gestures that Madara communicated his love and appreciation for his family - and it also helped him. Words he simply could not trust in the same way.

His expectations for his child/ren would simply be that they became as strong as they could become, so he knew the clan was in good hands after his passing. Only when they were older would his expectations become more like those for his wife; that they cared for the clan, and had a “polite/kind” (daughter) front for the rest of the clan.

All in all Madara would be a loved husband and father, the same he had been a loved son and loved (older)brother.

——

I hope this answer is satisfying, anon. :)

Thank you once more for your lovely question. It was a joy answering this.

All the best and take care o/

#anon ask #madara uchiha #izuna uchiha #uchiha oc #naruto headcanons #thoughts

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asirensrage · 1 year

Text

Mise en Place - A "choose your own adventure" style fic - Part 5

Fandom: Punisher AU Rating: Mature Pairing: Billy Russo x OC Warnings: Dark!Fic, threats, murder, obsession, swearing, violence, blood, and likely more to be added... Summary: Nadine thought her biggest problem was helping to keep the restaurant she worked at afloat as the neighbourhood starts being bought out from under them. A chance meeting in an elevator with an old fling proves differently…

Notes: The last vote had a stranger at the door win by a landslide...so let's see who it is! Heed the warnings.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

previously: Nadine sees Billy hide her phone but before she can confront him, someone knocks on the door...

The two of them glance at the door before looking back at each other.

“Are you expecting anyone?” she asks softly, trying to keep her voice down.

“Stay there,” he says quietly, motioning her back.

Nadine slips back to hide against the wall in the hallway between his bedroom and bathroom. She feels naked and vulnerable in a way she’s never really felt before. Even with Billy there, she finds herself searching for something she can hold, that she can use as a weapon if needed. There’s a lamp on the hall table. She grabs it, yanking out the cord and wrapping it around her hand so she doesn’t accidentally trip on it, then removes the lampshade.

As she does, Billy reaches into the drawer where she saw him drop her phone and pulls out a gun. Her throat tightens at the sudden confirmation of the theories that she built on the elevator. His eyes meet hers and she sees him glance down at the lamp in her hand. He smiles slightly and nods before the expression drops and he goes for the door where someone knocks again.

He holds his gun in his right hand, foot braced in place to block the door from opening more than a couple of inches. He opens it and peers out before he suddenly relaxes and opens the door further.

She doesn’t recognize the man standing there and it does nothing to ease her panic.

Their voices are low and Nadine finds herself having to strain to hear them.

“He’s made another move.”

“What happened?”

The stranger’s voice drops lower. “-completely gutted.”

Billy pauses for a moment before he nods. “Get the cleaners into the apartment and have the place ready for new tenants. Have movers pack everything and put it in a storage unit.”

“What?” Nadine steps out from where she’s standing against the wall. “What apartment are you talking about?”

“Nadine, just hold on,” Billy turns to her and motions for her to wait.

“Excuse me? Don’t tell me to hold on, hot shot.” She steps forward, grip tightening on the lamp she’s holding. “I’ve had a shit day and been nearly murdered! And you’re telling me to wait? I want to know what’s going on with my property. And what’s been gutted?”

“Shit,” Billy mutters, before turning to the guy and nodding at him. “Call me when it’s done.” The stranger retreats and pulls the door shut. Billy fully turns to face her and places his hands up as though he’s going to placate her.

Her eyes narrow.

He seems to realize he’s still holding his gun. “Let me put this down, okay?” He moves to the side, turns the safety back on, takes out the clip and puts them both in the same drawer he pulled it out of.

“Give me my phone.”

He blinks and she catches the way his brows furrow before he erases the expression. “What?”

“My phone. You have it in that drawer. Give it to me.”

His jaw clenches and he turns to her. “Will you let me explain?”

“Explain what? That the day I saw you with blood on your clothes, there’s a man trying to kill me in my house?!” She lifts the lamp. “Last chance. Give me my fucking phone.”

“Please, Nadine, let me–”

She moves forward, bringing the lamp down hard on the side table that the drawer is a part of. Billy slams himself into her, hands grabbing at the lamp and pulling, trying to yank it out of her grip.

“No!” She shoves him back, trying to force a knee between them to push him away. He digs his fingers into the pressure points of her hand, between her thumb and first finger. She drops the lamp and uses the moment to pull back her elbow and slam it into his solar plexus. He doesn’t manage to completely dodge, grunting at the hit. Before she can try again, he hooks his leg behind hers and she’s yanked down to the ground. He cushions the blow as much as he can,with his hand under her head but he doesn’t give her a chance to gain her bearings. Before she can move, he has her pinned. His body pressed against hers with her wrists pinned above her. He uses his own legs to weigh hers down. It’s almost a familiar feeling, one that they’ve replicated before when they slept together. She regrets that choice now despite the heat that crawls through her veins at the memory.

“Listen. Listen!” he demands, trying to keep her in place even as she struggles. She’s going to kill him, she thinks. She’s already killed one man who threatened her. What was one more? “I can’t give you your phone,” he says. “But not because I’m trying to keep it from you! It’s not fucking safe. They can track you through it and once he knows you’re alive, he will. It needs to be destroyed.”

“Fucking bullshit,” she spits at him.

“It’s not!” he snarls back. “This wasn’t supposed to happen, okay? But you asked me to help you.” He pauses, catching his breath as his bottomless eyes meet hers. His voice softens. “Let me help you.”

She pauses, staring up at him. How can she trust this?

“Come on, Nadine. I might not have told you everything, but I’ve never fucking lied.” He kissed her then. It’s familiar and desperate and wanting. Part of her begs to give in, to ease back to the safety of something familiar, but she’s not sure she can. She wasn’t wrong. Someone tried to kill her, he stole her phone and he was covered in blood in the elevator.

He pulls away once she stops kissing him back. “Nadine?”

mise en place tag: @muchadoaboutcj @koiwrites @chrissymunson @nageill

oc tag: @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse @endless-oc-creations @stanshollaand @wordspin-shares @chrissymunson

billy russo tag: @wheresthesunshinesblog

#fic: mise en place #ridea's choose your own adventure #make a choice fic #billy russo x oc #dark!billy russo #dark!fic #mafia!billy russo

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