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just-an-anon-reader · 23 days ago

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The Forgotten Sister

Chapter I - III

Pairing: Ekko x Fem!Reader

Tags: Minimal use of Y/N, no specific description of the reader, friends to lovers, CW swearing, CW blood, CW injury, CW violence, CW guns, TW death

A/N: I might have gotten carried away with how long this got…

Chapter II

"I missed you too..."

Feeling your sobs begin to calm and your eyes begin to puff from all the tears that cascaded down your cheeks, you gingerly take a small step back without entirely leaving your sister's embrace. Just enough to finally get a proper look at the face that changed with time. Vi was undoubtedly no longer the girl you remember looking up to as a child. The soft roundness of her cheeks that came with childhood was now replaced by sharp, hard lines with scars in places that weren't there before. And yet, despite the changes brought about by years apart, Vi looked... young. Like she hadn't lived with the chaos that covered Zaun like a blanket. Like she hadn't seen the death and destruction that followed as Silco flooded the Lanes with his damn shimmer.

"Where have you been all these years?" you ask, voice still trembling with emotion as your thumb traces over the tattoo on her cheekbone.

"I was... I was in Stillwater... But that doesn't matter! All that matters is that I'm here now." Vi says, head tilting lovingly into your touch.

"You were in Stillwater? All this time? Why?! H-how did you get out?"

"... someone... got me out,"

"It's the enforcer, isn't it?" Ekko says suddenly.

Having stood quietly from the side and letting you two sisters have your moment, a reunion long since overdue. Having watched with a soft chuckle as you bawled your eyes out and wet snot dripped down your chin. But now he stood with his stance firm and stiff. Arms crossed against his chest as the steel mask of a leader clicked into place on his handsome face.

"...an enforcer?" You gasp, involuntarily stepping away from your sister's embrace.

Your body physically recoiled from Vi, like her touch shimmered itself. Vi whispers your name, hurt flashing across her face at your visceral reaction.

But she didn't understand. She didn't know. The blood that painted your hands red and the disgusting sticky feeling that came with it from all the people who bled at your doorstep. People whose lives you so desperately tried to save as they lay dying. Beaten half to death by fucking enforcers. Some of them were sanctioned by Piltover, while others were greedy fuckers with pockets heavy with Silco's coin. And they said fissure folk were the shitty ones.

She doesn't know...

You tried to reason with yourself. But feelings of disgust and betrayal filled you faster than you could stop them. You take another step back, moving in line with Ekko. Gone was the love, replaced by suspicion and mistrust. The man beside you bumps his shoulder against yours, pulling your attention. You look at each other in silent conversation. He tilts his head in a gesture to somewhere, yet nowhere in particular. The movement you follow with a flick of your eyes, immediately knowing the message behind it. An understanding passed between you two confirmed with a nod.

"There's something we gotta show you," Ekko says to Vi before moving to lead the way.

You hobble after him silently, your cane thumping against the wooden floor, ignoring the confusion splayed on Vi's face. Seeing that none of you two were planning to explain anything further, she rushes to follow after. Opting to lag a bit ways behind. Taking in the view around her. A view so different than what you'd usually expect from Zaun. The sun bathed the base with a beautiful, bright glow. Its warmth touching the skin of her cheek as it peaked through the leaves. Children laughed and played, chasing after one another beneath the shade of firelight leaves. People walked and talked about, free from worry and strife. It was beautiful. Amazing what the group has accomplished in seven years. A small hidden reprieve from the chaos of the Lanes.

At the last set of stairs down the tree, steeper and more uneven than the rest, Ekko offers his elbow to you like clockwork. Carefully, you clamber down the steep stairs. Hand gripping tightly onto Ekko's forearm as your weak knee wobbled with every step. Vi rushes to hold onto you, hand about to reach for your other arm, when Ekko stops her with a chuckle.

"She'll smack you if you do that. And besides," he says, eyes looking towards you. Lovingly... longingly. A gaze much unbeknownst to you as you grunted at the feel of uncomfortable pressure straining against your knee at each step.

"She's doing great,"

"Damn right. My knee won't get stronger being babied," you hiss, taking another shaky step down onto the floor.

Finally...

You breathe a sigh of relief at the feeling of solid ground beneath your feet that doesn't quake or buckle at the slightest tremble of your knee.

Ekko really needs to fix these last few steps...

They wobbled too much for your liking. And they creaked in weird places that always made you antsy. Yep, he definitely needs to fix these. The man in question has stopped beside you, arm still outstretched, waiting as you find your bearings.

"You alright?" He whispers.

"Yeah, thank you for being such an excellent handrail." You whisper teasingly, giving his arm a playful pinch before letting go.

Ekko chuckles, shaking his head as he trudges forward a few paces before stopping. You follow, hobbling to a stop beside him. Eyes forward, looking at the slab of wall that makes up a part of the tree. A mural. A place of homage. A reminder of what you've all had to sacrifice.

"This is everyone that we've lost..." Ekko says, his voice somber as he looks at the colorful, familiar faces on the wall. Faces of loved ones, faces of lost ones... lost... but never forgotten.

"The price of our freedom..." you sigh.

"Some of it was enforcers... most was Silco."

Ekko wraps a pinky around yours. For comfort, you reckoned. But you weren't sure if he meant for you or for himself.

"Your sister works for him not because she has to but because she wants to."

Vi looks away. Expression torn, hurt. And your heart ached for her.

"I see you've found Jinx,"

"Her name is Powder... You're her sister! How can you call her that?"

"She hasn't been Powder in a long time, Vi,"

"So? Are you gonna ask me to leave her?! Is that what you did?!”

In a rush of fury, she lunges at you, hands grabbing onto the lapels of your coat, pulling you roughly towards her. Knuckles holding tight as you watched them turn white. Vi locked eyes with yours. A fire blazing hot behind those baby blues. But they did not burn you. Tone, cold as ice, you spit your next words, sharp like a knife. Meant to cut, meant to bleed.

"I... wasn't the one who left."

Vi breathes a heavy sigh like a fire doused with a bucket of cold water. Gently releasing you before stepping away, hiding her face behind the length of her hair. Ekko steps behind you as you stumble, steadying you. Eyes roaming over yours in worry, only calming once you gave him a nod.

You were alright...

"Look, Vi, I don't blame you for being gone. But you were gone for so long... things have changed. We, have changed,"

You step towards her, hand on her shoulder, gently squeezing it.

"Besides, we still have that... enforcer... friend of yours."

"Seems like I just keep making you mad today,"

"I remember it being... a unique talent of yours,"

Vi breathes an airy chuckle, turning to face you. Looking at you, like seeing you for the first time. You used to be so small, so frail. Someone she needed to protect. Like Powder... But now, look at you... You still limped, yes, but you stood tall. Eyes sharp, hands strong and steady. And you didn't take shit from anyone. You really grew up without her.

Turning towards Ekko, Vi says, "Her name is Caitlyn. She's after Silco. It's why she got me out in the first place. You can trust her. I promise."

You and Ekko give each other a look. Another silent conversation ensues. He nods, and you nod back.

"Alright, come on," he says before moving forward. You trailing behind him.

You both lead Vi through a tunnel-like vent in the wall, an exhaust pipe opening large enough for people to pass through. There, you find two boys, Mach and Tun, playing around. Pulling at their cheeks, making funny faces, and challenging the other to hold their laugh the longest. The same two boys who were supposed to be watching over the makeshift prison cell.

"Hey! How's our guest?" Ekko says, greeting the boys who squealed in excitement at the sight of him.

They scream his name happily as they run around him in excited circles before jumping towards you, pulling at the hem of your shirt, almost making you stumble.

"She's loud,"

"She shouts a lot,"

The two boys giggle in unison.

"Alright, you two, let's get her outta there," Ekko says, chuckling as the boys give a resounding "Yessir!".

Pulling down their masks, they race for the keys hanging on a hook beside the door. Pushing and shoving each other for it before Tun finally gets a hold of them with a triumphant "Yes!". Slotting the key into the lock, the gears turn and unlock with a click as the door swings open with a loud squeak. Inside, handcuffed to a statue in the center of the room, was a girl with a sack still tied around her head. Her identity may be hidden, but her role is betrayed by the golden edges of her uniform. Hidden by whatever she wore on top, it glinted where the light would hit. Shining despite the darkness of the room.

She grunted as she fought against her restraints, wiggling about and head snapping to the sound of something swinging open somewhere she couldn't see. To Tun's annoyance, Mach successfully grabs the keys from his hands and runs into the room, undoing the cuffs before pulling the sack off her head. Eyes blinking at the sudden glare, her hazy vision lands on the hand in front of her. A hand fully intending to help her up. The moment her eyes cleared, she slaps the offending appendage away. Mach gasps at the impact, moving away towards you and Ekko by the door. The woman's eyes follow the movement. Her sharp eyebrows pinched as her deep blue eyes narrowed, she glared at the two of you with all the anger she could muster.

"What have you done with Vi?"

... this is Caitlyn?

Also, thank you to those who thought chapter 1 was worth reading!!

@silas-222

@scarletrosesposts

#ekko x fem reader #ekko x reader #arcane x reader #ekko arcane #arcane

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chvoswxtch · 1 year ago

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desire

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: now that the defenders of freedom had been caught, what's next for you and frank?

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of alcohol & grief, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 8.1k

a/n: the one you've all been waiting for. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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Considering the fact that your place was still an active crime scene and Homeland still needed to track down the rest of Steven’s dipshit goons to ensure there would be no more threats or attacks, Dinah wanted to take you to a safe house until the investigation was finished.

Frank, however, was not having any of that shit.

It was admittedly an ego boost watching Dinah and Frank lock into a heated staring contest while arguing about who got protective custody of you, and definitely amusing. But eventually, she gave into the stubborn brick wall that was Frank Castle, threw her hands up in total exasperation that was followed by a colorful string of adjectives thrown his way, and that was how you found yourself once again on the road with Frank.

Initially when you noticed that Frank was driving in the direction outside of the city, perplexment weaved between your brows, but he quickly set your curiosity straight as soon as he noticed it blanketing your features. He didn’t even give you a chance to voice your inquisitions before explaining that he was taking you somewhere safe that no one else knew about.

That knowledge filled you with a bubbling sense of giddiness because getting to stay with Frank at his apartment was one thing, but getting to stay with him in a place that sounded private and secluded? Yeah, that was more than okay with you.

The longer Frank drove, the more drastic the scenery changed, passing by in a blurry film reel on the other side of the passenger window. The clamorous and bustling streets of the concrete city faded away slowly and soon settled into quiet black asphalt that shrank to one lane on either side of the road. The millions of inhabitants of New York City seemed to melt away into the horizon in the rear view mirror of Frank’s truck, leaving the two of you the only souls for miles. The trees became more and more dense, creating opaque patches of foliage in golden ochre, rusty ginger, and spiced cranberry. In that moment, sitting in the passenger seat was the most at peace you had felt in almost seven months since the whole had nightmare began, and a lot of that peace had everything to do with the man in the driver’s seat absentmindedly tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to the Bruce Springsteen CD currently playing.

After about two hours of driving and light conversation, Frank turned off the asphalt road onto an unmarked dirt path, and you turned your head to stare over at him in half-hearted suspicion while lifting a brow in silent questioning.

“You know, if you kept me alive this long just to murder me in the middle of the woods, that’s some serious dedication.”

Without missing a beat, Frank let out a dry chuckle.

“If I was gonna kill ya, I woulda started switchin’ your coffee out with decaf a long time ago.”

It was always a struggle not to laugh at Frank’s dry sense of humor. You tried not to give him the satisfaction of your amusement, but you found yourself giving in more and more lately. Letting out an overly dramatic sharp gasp while staring at him in exaggerated faux horror, you reached over and lightly smacked your palm against his firm bicep.

“That is the most evil form of torture I have ever heard.”

Frank snickered deviantly, clearly pleased with himself, and the relaxed grin on his soft lips was stretched so wide that his lifted cheeks caused his eyes to crinkle in delight. For a moment, your breath caught in your throat at the sight. It never failed to render you speechless just how much lighter Frank looked when he smiled. Happiness looked so achingly beautiful on him. Every time you silently observed him, you always learned something new about Frank. He had deep set creases softly feathering around the edges of his eye sockets, proof that Frank had once been a man that smiled and laughed as easily as he breathed. You sincerely hoped that version of him that he seemed to keep buried so deeply was steadily rising back to the surface, and that these ephemeral glimpses you got would soon become permanent.

The gilded stream of midday light cast a velvet glow on Frank’s softened features, leaving you so completely entranced that you hadn’t even noticed the lack of motion when he parked his truck.

“We’re here.”

The gruff alert of Frank’s voice induced you out of your bewitchment, and it was then that you suddenly noticed the quaint one story cabin nestled a few feet away in front of you.

It was composed of wood in a rich shade of burnt umber, and topped with a forest green downward v-shaped roof. There were a few worn steps leading up to an enclosed porch that appeared to snugly wrap around the cabin entirely, and two large square glass windows on either side of the front door that was painted the same shade of green as the roof. The curtains were drawn so you couldn’t see inside, but from the outside it looked incredibly cozy.

When you got out of the car, you noticed there wasn’t anything around at all but thick woods, and you silently wondered just how far back they went. There didn’t appear to be anyone or anything around for miles, and the only sounds you could hear were birds chirping and the worn wooden steps creaking under the weight of Frank’s heavy black boots.

“Wow. Billy offers one hell of a retirement plan.”

Following up the steps behind Frank’s large frame, a glimpse of black flashed in your peripheral vision, and you noticed there were security cameras installed on the left and right corners of the roof, along with what looked to be several motion detector lights along the top perimeter. Knowing Frank, there were probably far more around the entire cabin, and probably even hidden in the trees as well.

Frank paused for a moment at your comment, his dark brown eyes glossing over your presence at his right before taking in the sight of his own cabin like it was the first time he had ever seen it.

“Nah, s’just somethin’ I never got ‘round to finishin’ ‘til a few months ago. Almost forgot ‘bout it. It was s’posed to be a surprise project for my-”

The second Frank cut himself off, his body language changed entirely. His relaxed posture instantly stiffened, causing him to stand rigidly at his full height while his shoulders squared to their broadened width. The former calm expression he wore turned to stone right before your very eyes and he clenched his jaw in such a harsh line you could hear his teeth grind. Frank was intensely staring directly through the small six panel window that was in the top middle of the front door, like there was something on the other side that only he could see.

Before you could react, he abruptly unlocked the front door and pushed it open with his left hand, clearing his throat and vaguely gesturing with his index finger before turning away to descend the stairs without giving you so much as a second glance.

“I’ll uh get the bags. Room at the end of the hall on the right is yours.”

The haunted look in Frank’s eyes reminded you of the night of the gala when he had told you that he had lost his wife. It was almost the exact same one. The thought briefly crossed your mind that he meant to say it had been a surprise project for her, but you quickly put it to rest. Frank clearly didn’t want to elaborate on the subject, and you knew better than to push. The best thing to do was give him his space and let him come to you if he wanted to. Still, it didn’t stop the journalist in you from running wild with questions, and also filling you with a slight sense of guilt that you were about to share a space with Frank that was meant to be something sacred and special between him and his wife.

»»———　　———««

The room at the end of the hall ended up being the master bedroom, to which you protested heavily against taking, but ultimately ended up being an argument you lost because Frank played dirty and distracted you with the delectable scent of homemade pasta sauce and a wine glass that was filled to the brim with bubbly pink.

While you sat at the kitchen island and sipped at your now half empty glass, you studied Frank with a narrowed gaze. A part of you was annoyed with him and yourself at how easily you fell into the trap he set. He knew you well enough to know Italian food was your weakness and that you were more compliant after being fed. But a bigger part of you was completely mesmerized by the way he gracefully navigated the open kitchen.

There was a furrow of concentration nestled between his thick brows while he precisely measured specific spices to add to the saucepan that was layered with ruby sauce that he had garnished with freshly cut oregano and parsley. On the far back left burner was a boiling pot of penne pasta, and in front of that was a skillet of ground meat Frank had added diced onion and garlic to along with several other seasonings. He shifted between each pan with a quiet elegance that captivated you, and simultaneously irritated you, because there didn’t seem to be a damn thing the man couldn’t do.

“So you’ve been a secret chef this entire time and didn’t tell me?”

“You didn’t ask.”

Rolling your eyes at his quick retort, you cocked your head to the side slightly and focused on the way his back muscles strained against the fabric of the black henley he wore.

“I’m pretty sure I would’ve had an easier time getting nuclear launch codes from the Russian government than ever getting a straight answer out of you.”

Frank snorted at that, throwing you a quick humored glance over his broad shoulder.

“Hey, I give you answers.”

“Oh yeah, after nearly five months of stonewalling me. I didn’t even know what you did before becoming a bodyguard until you told me, what, a week and a half ago?”

Frank lifted one of his thick brows while turning his body slightly towards you.

“You never read my personnel file?”

Glancing down at your wine glass, you clicked your tongue against the inside of your cheek and gave a subtle shake of your head.

“Homeland wouldn’t let me have it.”

“And you let that stop you?”

There was a hint of tease in Frank’s deep voice, and you lifted your gaze to squint at him in annoyance noticing the cheeky smirk curling at the edge of his mouth.

“I’m a journalist, Frank. Not a hacker.”

“Ah, don’t give me that shit. That may be your job but it ain’t all you are. Besides, you’re a goddamn force to be reckoned with and a pain in the ass when you don’t get your way.”

A mischievous smirk slipped across your lips while you brought your glass up to your mouth, looking at Frank innocently over the rim.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Frank’s eyes seemed to wander over your face, stopping at the way the rim of the glass settled against your bottom lip, and when he met your eyes again, they were subtly darkened with that look that sent a tingle down your spine.

He silently stared at you for only a second longer before giving a slight nod, and you caught the wry smile slipping over his lips as he turned back to face the stove.

“Whatever ya say, sweetheart.”

You weren’t exactly sure what the source was of the heat you currently felt blooming in your cheeks: the wine you had consumed, the aroma of the fresh chili pepper Frank had just added to the sauce, or the way he had just looked at you.

Attempting to redirect your impure thoughts before the liquid courage could make you bold enough to voice them, you looked for something to distract yourself with. With your chin in your palm, you glanced down at the rouge tinted liquid and lazily swished it around in your wine glass. A thought quickly popped into your head that caused you to let out a soft snort.

“I didn’t take you as a rosé guy.”

Frank adjusted the heat on the sauce to a low simmer before turning to face you fully, wiping his large hands off on a sage green rag before tossing it over his right shoulder. He took a step over towards the island you were sitting at and wrapped his long fingers around his own wine glass, which looked ludicrously tiny in his hand, and took a long purposeful swig before licking his lips and arching one of his dark brows.

“What? This is good shit.”

Reaching for the half empty bottle sitting on the island, you let out a soft laugh and went in for a refill. The relaxing effects of the wine had clearly already reached your brain, and before it could catch up with your mouth, you blurted out your next question like it couldn’t possibly ruin the mood.

“Was this your wife’s favorite?”

Frank didn’t clam up like you had expected given his behavior earlier. Instead, he glanced down at the glass in his hand for a moment before shaking his head with a tiny smile gracing the curve of his lips.

“Nah, friend of mine’s wife got me into this stuff.”

Frank took a moment to stare down into the glass, as if there was a fond memory appearing in the bubbles. Clearing his throat, he took another large swig of the wine and set the nearly empty glass down on the island.

“She uh…she liked white wine.”

For some reason, Frank’s casual admission sent a flush of velour warmth through you. Whatever barrier that had prevented Frank from speaking freely earlier seemed to be somewhat dismantled, and this was the first time he had ever spoken voluntarily about his wife that hadn’t left a heavy fog of grief lingering over either of you. A tender smile stretched across your lips as you lifted your glass up in a silent toast.

“My kinda woman. What was her favorite?”

Frank leaned over the island on his elbows, holding the delicate glass in both of his strong hands. The amber lighting in the kitchen made his eyes look like swirls of melted chocolate, and you resisted the urge to lean in closer when he finally looked at you with a faint smile tugging at the left edge of his mouth.

“Pinot Grigio.”

A huge grin stretched across your lips at his answer, and you shook your head faintly as you light heartedly pointed your right index finger towards Frank and lifted your glass to your lips.

“Oh I bet I could’ve easily converted her to a sauvignon blanc girl. There’s this brand from Chile that makes the best blanc, and she would’ve loved it.”

For a moment Frank simply observed you in silent fondness. When you set your glass down, his eyes flickered to his own, and he made a quiet noise of recognition in his throat before speaking quietly.

“She woulda liked you.”

That single sentiment held more weight and significant meaning to you than anything anyone else had ever said to you. A tight lump formed in your throat as those words echoed in your head, and you felt the overwhelming urge to make this intimate moment just as special for Frank, but with the alcohol in your system you couldn’t convey your feelings as eloquently.

“My mom would’ve annoyed you.”

Frank immediately started howling with laughter, turning his head to look at you with squinted eyes in incredulous amusement.

“What?”

“I mean she would have loved you, no doubt about that, but she probably would’ve annoyed you. And definitely hit on you. She was like me, only she had way less of a filter and absolutely zero shame. I think my being nosey and stubborn was genetic, but she took it to a whole other level. Did you know I used to be really quiet?”

Frank’s thick brows lifted in surprise, but you didn’t give him a chance to respond. The rosé was acting as a truth serum, and you couldn’t stop yourself from rambling.

“I was. I was very quiet, and extremely cautious, compliments of my careless mother. She wasn’t really careless, I mean she loved me, she was just a bit reckless, but not in a bad way. Like not a I-need-therapy-for-the-rest-of-my-life way but more of a she-had-me-at-sixteen-and-we-grew-up-together way. You know that I was such a bookworm that she practically begged me to be rebellious and hang out with someone other than her or the local librarian? And she’s the whole reason I wanted to go to Columbia, because she wanted to go to Columbia, but you can’t go to Columbia with a baby and no high school degree, and I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, and I probably should have shut up ten minutes ago, but anyway my mom would’ve liked you but definitely annoyed you more than me.”

Those newfound beloved crinkles were once again decorating Frank’s eyes as he chuckled heartily at your rambling. He downed the rest of his own wine before setting the empty glass down, flashing you a crooked grin as he loosely gestured in your direction with his chin.

“I’m sure I woulda liked Lorelai just as much as I do you.”

There was a skip in your heart’s rhythm, partly because he finally admitted that he liked you as a person, but more so when you realized that Frank remembered your mother’s name. It tugged at your heartstrings, because it was such a simple gesture, but also because it reminded you just how much you missed your mother.

“I forget sometimes.”

Frank tilted his head to the side slightly when your soft voice settled in the space between the two of you, and his playful grin slowly vanished as he watched while you stared blankly down into your glass, clearly lost in your own thoughts.

“Forget what?”

“That she’s gone.”

There was a slight tremble to your voice as you looked up at Frank with a miniscule sad smile. The empathy in his eyes was almost too much to bear, and you had to look away to keep your composure from crumbling. Turning your head to the left, you took a moment to observe the layout and minimalist decor in the kitchen while letting out a shaky exhale.

“Sometimes I go to call her…just…on my way home from work, you know? Just to talk to her, hear the latest small town gossip, tell her about the latest coffee shop I’ve found that she absolutely has to try when she comes to visit next. There’s even been times I’ve left her voicemails. I’ll be so wrapped up in something and wanna vent to her, and then I’ll start to wonder why she hasn’t called back yet, and then it’ll just…hit me.”

Frank stayed quiet while he listened sympathetically, and the entire cabin was silent apart from the quiet sizzling coming from the stovetop until you gently spoke up again.

“Do you forget too?”

Finally looking over at Frank again, you watched as he lighty dragged his palm down the lower half of his face. While he glanced down at the smooth mahogany countertop, he clasped his large hands together while still resting on his elbows.

“I don’t forget she’s gone, but I uh…I’ve started forgettin’ things. I can’t remember what her perfume smelled like…or what her favorite song was. I can hear it sometimes, ya’know? Every now and then I get these…bits and pieces. Sometimes I can hear her hummin’ it in the kitchen, but it ain’t long enough to remember what song it was, ya’know? Everythin’ started gettin’ fuzzy…and I remember more things I wanna forget than things I actually wanna remember.”

There was a stretch of silence where neither of you spoke. Eventually, Frank straightened up and turned his back to you to walk back over towards the stove. Even though you knew it might not be the right time to ask, there was a question that had been burning in the back of your mind since the night of the gala.

“Frank?”

He hummed quietly in response, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder as he gave you his full attention.

“What was her name?”

The softness of your question clearly caught him off guard, and you could see the hesitation lingering in Frank’s eyes. Worried that you had crossed the line and completely ruined the moment, you were about to hastily backtrack and tell him that he didn’t have to answer when Frank let out a deep exhale through his large nose, touching his index and middle finger over his chest most likely where his wedding band sat beneath his shirt.

“Maria.”

A minuscule smile covered the edge of your mouth as you tilted your head slightly to the side and tried out her name on your tongue.

“Maria. Is this her recipe?”

Frank's eyes flickered over towards the pans and the pot of boiling pasta that were still on the stove. After a moment, he nodded his head and turned his attention back to you with a tender look in his eyes.

“Penne all'Arrabbiata con Manzo. Her grandmother was Sicilian, just like my parents were. She made this every time I came home from a tour.”

The significance and sentiment behind the recipe Frank was cooking made your heart feel like it was going to burst out of your ribcage. Quickly topping off Frank’s empty glass with more wine, you carefully got down from the bar stool that you were sitting on and rounded the island to make your way over to Frank. As you offered him the half full glass of wine, Frank’s eyes flickered curiously between it and your own gaze while his large hand reached out to wrap his fingers around the glass. Smiling softly up at him, you lifted your own glass slightly in the air.

“Well then, to Maria.”

There was a sudden luminescence to Frank’s warm brown eyes, but you didn’t get a chance to study it long before he nodded slightly and his lips stretched faintly into a tiny smile as he delicately clinked his glass against yours and repeated your toast in a more delicate volume of his deep voice.

“To Maria.”

»»———　　———««

“You’re fired.”

Hearty laughter boomed from deep within Frank’s chest and echoed over the crackling firewood currently blazing. He adjusted his position on the couch a few inches away from you, his features highlighted due to the radiant flames cascading from the fireplace in a contorted expression of skepticism and entertainment.

“What? Why?”

“I have known you for seven months, Castle. Seven. Months. And I’m just now finding out you have the culinary skills of a five star chef. Unacceptable. Unforgivable. I’m calling Billy first thing in the morning.”

You couldn’t hardly get through your own sentence without bursting into a fit of laughter, and Frank was in no better shape as he threw his head back against the couch and clutched at his chest with his hand that wasn’t holding his third glass of wine. There were nearly three empty bottles between the two of you forgotten on the dining table, and this was the most loose you had ever seen Frank. Maybe you should get him tipsy more often.

“You can’t fire me.”

“And why not?”

“Cause I ain’t assigned to you no more, brat.”

While Frank teased you nonchalantly as he sipped at his glass and watched the flames dance across the firewood, his words instantly sobered you up. He was right. The Defenders of Freedom had been caught, Steven was facing trial, and there was no reason for Frank to stick around anymore. It was a revelation you had been trying to ignore for the past twenty-four hours. A wave of uncertainty crashed over you in that moment. What would happen between you and Frank? When would he get assigned to someone else? Would that take him far away from you? How long could you stay in this little bubble outside reality?

Glancing down at the wounds in your palm that had steadily begun to heal, you lightly traced your thumb over the raised irritated edges as a thought suddenly flashed across your mind.

“I never thanked you.”

Even though your voice was barely above a whisper, Frank caught it, and he turned his head to look at you intently with slightly confused brows.

“For what?”

Closing your eyes for a moment, you shook your head faintly before looking back at Frank with subtle remorse.

“For everything you’ve done for me. For saving my life, more than once, and-”

Frank instantly brushed off your gratitude with a shake of his own head, reaching over to place his glass of wine on the coffee table in front of the couch.

“It’s my job-”

“No. Your job was to keep me safe, but you did so much more than that. You dealt with all of my shit, fixed every problem I created, and even when Homeland pulled you away, you still showed up for me. Frank, I would be dead if it wasn’t for you. You saved me from those guys at the bar, you saved me from Cavella and Walker, and…you’re still saving me, even now. I could’ve gone to a safe house with Dinah, but you brought me here, even though I’m not your problem anymore-”

Frank reached for your glass of wine and firmly set it on the coffee table, effectively catching your attention while he started almost directly into your soul with a serious expression.

“Hey, you have never been a problem. Ever. You got that?”

There were so many emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface for seven months that you hadn’t been processing, and now they seemed to be rising to a level you could no longer ignore. The verity in Frank’s voice nearly had tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, and you just wanted answers. Why did he care so much? Why was he still protecting you? Why were you here right now?

“Frank…you could’ve walked away. There were so many times you could’ve walked away. Why…why did you stay?”

A substantial weight felt like it had finally been lifted off your chest as you asked the one question that had been lingering in your bones for weeks now. Although that weight was replaced by a lead filled sense of dread while you waited with anxious anticipation for a response, knowing was better than not knowing.

Frank’s deep brown eyes stared so fiercely into your own, that you felt vulnerably stripped bare despite the clothing covering your body. When he reached his left hand over to place on your jean clad thigh, he grasped it firmly and leaned in just close enough so that you couldn’t escape the enrapture of his gaze.

“I want you to listen to me, right now. I’m always gonna keep you safe, you got that? Job or no job.”

The intensity burning in his eyes and the dropped octave of his rough voice nearly stunned you silent. Your lips parted slightly as if to speak, but your fogged brain struggled to form a coherent sentence. This was the closest you had been to Frank since you had climbed onto his lap in his truck, and you were fighting so hard to not let history repeat itself. But that look…that one goddamn look you could never decipher was roaring fervently in his gaze again, and you were going absolutely mad not knowing what it meant.

Before you even realized what you were doing, you found yourself leaning in closer, staring deeply into Frank’s warm brown eyes with a pleading look reflected in your own desperate stare. You wanted to know why. You needed to know why. And you were begging Frank for a confession that wasn’t encrypted.

“Why?”

“Because you’re mine to protect.”

The possessiveness that dripped from Frank’s low voice had you abruptly clenching your thighs together, trapping his thick fingers between your weakened knees. If he minded the entrapment at all, he didn’t show it. The blaze of the fireplace was no longer what had the temperature steadily rising within your body, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Frank’s vigorous and unwavering stare. Your mouth suddenly felt dry, and even though you had a million questions clamoring through your brain, all you could manage to get out in a hoarse whisper was one you needed confirmation on.

“I am?”

Frank retracted his large hand from your thigh, raising it up slowly to carefully grab your face. A few of his long fingers curled around the back of your neck while his index and middle finger rested along the underside of your jaw, and his thumb pressed lightly against your chin. His heated gaze dropped to your lips momentarily before flickering back up to meet your eyes, and that fire in them was burning bright enough for God herself to see.

“You’re goddamn right.”

Without another word, Frank pulled you in for a searing kiss, pressing his soft lips against yours tentatively but with enough passion to make his answer crystal clear. A delicate noise of surprise sounded in the back of your throat, and for a moment you nearly stopped breathing. If that first kiss in Frank’s truck was a rare comet bursting across the sky, this one felt like a supernova erupting in a kaleidoscope of colors and stardust exploding across the expanse of the universe.

Even as he retracted his lips just a bit to stare deeply into your eyes to gauge your reaction, his hand gently cradling your face kept you firmly in place. All you could do was stare at Frank in complete stupefaction. Your lips were fervently tingling and your body felt like it had been struck by lightning. Frank’s eyes were searching yours for an answer he seemed to desperately need judging by the way his other hand lightly squeezed at your waist.

“If I’m crossin’ a line, you gotta tell me now. Cause I can’t go back, sweetheart.”

The tender emotion entwined within his words nearly made it sound like Frank was begging for your answer, and suddenly it all clicked. You could never figure it out before, but now as you stared at him in complete wonder and paid close attention to his display of vulnerability, you were finally able to decode that cryptic look in Frank’s eyes.

Desire.

“I don’t wanna go back.”

That breathless confession was all Frank needed, and he seemed to groan in relief when you surged forward to capture his lips with renewed vigor. Frank was so much more engaged in this kiss, and you took that as a good sign to give in to every single temptation. Before you could even think about climbing onto his lap, Frank was three steps ahead of you, and his large hands were firmly gripping onto your hips and effortlessly pulling you over to straddle his hips. Frank’s hands were everywhere; kneading at your denim covered thighs, gripping tightly onto your waist, carding his fingers through your hair and grasping at the back of your head to keep you as close as physically possible.

You cupped his face firmly in your hands and seductively swiped your tongue along his bottom lip begging for entrance, causing a low growl to resonate from deep within Frank’s chest, and his large hands suddenly squeezed your ass tightly through your jeans while you moaned when his taste met your tongue. The taste of Frank was much sharper this time, and you felt far more intoxicated by him than the three bottles of wine the two of you had consumed together.

Even with your chest pressed firmly against his own, it felt like you couldn’t physically be close enough. You wanted to be entirely consumed by Frank, to completely melt into the warmth of his skin and breathe his essence into your lungs. The synchronization of your lips and tongues molding together was impeccable, and the world outside ceased to exist while the two of you began to unravel one another.

An overwhelming surge of impatience had you nearly shredding his black henley with your nails while you fervently shoved it up his toned chest, eagerly caressing the scarred canvas of his tan skin with your fingertips like you had been daydreaming about doing since that night in the motel. He didn’t hesitate to teasingly brush his thumbs along the sliver of exposed skin above your hips before pushing your shirt up your waist and over your head. While you tore it off quickly and carelessly discarded it behind you, Frank dove in to attach his lips to the sensitive skin on your neck, dragging his warm and wet tongue along the column of it before gently biting down on the juncture above your collarbone.

A soft moan slipped past your lips and you instinctively rocked your hips against Frank’s lap, coaxing a deep grunt from his chest. He left a searing trail of kisses along your shoulder, the rough pads of his fingers softly tugging the straps of your bra down your arms before splaying both of his large hands against your lower back to pull you further against his own chest. Frank nuzzled his large nose along your neck and whispered huskily into your ear.

“This alright?”

“Yes.”

Unfiltered lust clouded your vision a deep shade of crimson, and you blindly clawed at Frank’s belt while he continued his blazing path of kisses along your jawline and down your neck towards your chest. All of a sudden, his large hands clasped around your wrists gently to halt your movements, and he pulled back a bit to stare deeply into your eyes while panting slightly.

“Sweetheart, there ain’t no rush.”

“Frank, please.”

The desperate plea that sounded from your lips seemed to ignite a brand new fire within Frank, and your consent shredded that last strand of hesitation that was holding him back. He placed his large hands against your ass and lifted you effortlessly in the air, and you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist. Frank easily navigated around the coffee table and slowly knelt down on the fluffy cream colored rug in front of the fireplace, carefully laying you down onto your back. This time when you tugged the leather of his belt away from the buckle, he didn’t stop you, and instead his own deft fingers made lightning work in ridding you of your own jeans.

Slipping one of his hands underneath your back, he easily unhooked your bra with his thumb and index finger, and the second your bare chest was exposed to him, Frank firmly grasped one of your breasts in his calloused hand and took your peaked nipple into his mouth. Your lips parted widely feeling the jolt of pleasure that had you arching your back slightly when he swirled his warm tongue around the sensitive and stiff bud while gently sinking his teeth into the flesh of your breast.

The sensation elicited a series of breathless whimpers to leave your mouth, and Frank grunted lowly in response as you rolled your hips upwards in search of friction, feeling the heavy heat of his hardened cock against your lower stomach through the thin cotton of his briefs. It was a marvel you hadn’t flooded the cabin with how turned on you currently were, and this wasn’t even scratching the surface of what Frank was going to do to you. You gripped at his bulging biceps, his broad shoulders, dark tufts of his disheveled hair, anything you could get your hands on to keep him close to you.

Frank began to slowly descend your body, placing his hands firmly on your sides while leaving warm and wet open mouthed kisses down your stomach, even licking a teasing bold stripe above your belly button. The sight alone nearly made your eyes roll into the back of your head and caused you to whine softly, knowing exactly where his next destination was. But as much as you wanted to have Frank’s mouth on you, and God did you want it, you weren’t sure you could stand another second of not knowing what it felt like to have him inside you.

After he slipped your panties down your legs and tossed them aside, you gave his messy cropped curls a gentle tug to get his attention before he could spread your thighs and settle his broad shoulders between the apex of them. Frank glanced up to meet your gaze, his warm brown eyes nearly as black as the coffee he’d consumed this morning due to how wide his pupils were blown open. The hunger eclipsing them caused you to shudder, and you took a mental image of the sight of him nearly naked between your thighs staring at you like a ravenous wolf salivating at the sight of a vulnerable lamb.

“Please, Frank…I need you. I wanna feel you now…please.”

The two of you seemed to be stuck in the same conundrum, caught in tandem between wanting to savor the moment you had both waited so long for, and also wanting to give into the impulses of your magnetizing desire.

As much as you could see in his hungry expression that he wanted to take his time, to devour you slowly and worship every inch of you, the distress dripping from your breathless plea triggered his own raging need, and he silently obeyed while moving upwards again to hover over your body, capturing your lips in a deeply passionate kiss while you ardently pushed his briefs down his hips and off completely. Frank settled between your hips, displacing his heavy body weight by supporting himself on his forearms that were locked on either side of your head. You were completely caged in and at his mercy beneath him, but that was exactly where you wanted to be.

Frank searched your gaze ardently once again for any sign of hesitation, his dark eyes roaming up and down your face before his tongue quickly darted out to wet his lips.

“We can call it here, ya’know? No hard feelin’s. I can-”

Reaching a hand up to gently hold the side of his face, you placed your thumb against his plump lips to cut off the velvet timbre of his whisper.

“Frank, I want this. I want you. But if you don’t-”

“I do. You got no idea how much I do. But…I want it to be right, yeah?”

A gentle smile covered your lips while gazing up at him in complete adoration.

“Doesn’t this feel right?”

Frank’s eyes flickered between your own and he subtly nodded his head, glancing down at your lips briefly before looking directly into your eyes again.

“Yeah…yeah it does.”

Frank leaned in to capture your lips in a sensual kiss, and the second he nudged the blunt head of his thick cock within your entrance, a sharp gasp flew past your lips and it felt like all the wind had been knocked right out of your lungs. He groaned quietly and nuzzled his large nose against the column of your neck, firmly grasping at your thigh and pulling your leg up and around his waist while he pushed in deeper slowly, one inch at a time.

While your nails instinctively dug fiercely into the muscle of his shoulders, no doubt leaving deep maroon crescent shaped indentations behind, Frank paused for a moment and snaked his hand down between your bodies, lightly brushing the rough pad of his thumb in lazy circles over your clit to help your body relax. You had been soaked through your panties from the moment your lips met, but Frank’s girth wasn’t one your walls had accommodated before, and he did his best to ease the sting of the burning stretch with stimulated pleasure.

“Frank…”

As soon as your hips connected completely and Frank was fully nestled within your tight heat, your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head, and your jaw became completely unhinged as you let out a smooth legato moan. You felt Frank’s body tense above you while he buried his face into your neck, letting out a quiet hiss as he breathed out a shaky deep exhale.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, sweetheart.”

“Oh my God…Frank-”

“I know baby, I know. Gimme a second.”

You don’t know how long it was before Frank finally started moving his hips. Seconds. Minutes. Hours. All you knew was that you had never felt so full and so complete in your entire life.

Letting out a quiet shudder, Frank slowly retracted his hips just a bit before cresting against you once again like a gentle tide. He removed his face from your neck so he could stare down into your eyes to watch your face, and you gazed up at him with wide-eyed passion and marvel. You brought your other leg up to also wrap around his waist and wrapped your arms securely around his neck, trapping Frank against your body just as much as you were beneath his.

Frank reached between your chests with his right hand and gripped his wedding band between his thumb and index finger, tossing it and the chain over his back so there was nothing separating the two of you, just his heated skin pressed firmly against yours. Bringing your hands upwards, your trembling fingers weaved through his hair, tugging somewhat roughly at the messy cropped dark strands on top of his head when he began to languidly increase his pace.

It was like you couldn’t speak. Your mouth hung open while you stared up into Frank’s warm brown eyes that seemed to gleam from the amber glow of the fire, but nothing came out except echoes of the pleasure he handcrafted. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, watching in awe as his plump lips parted from panting heavily, his eyes becoming hooded from streams of ecstasy racing through his bloodstream. He gazed down into your eyes in complete adoration, gently stroking his index and middle finger down your cheekbone delicately as you stared up at him with parted lips and pleading eyes.

Frank brought his left hand up to gently brush your hair away from your forehead, cradling the back of your head while his right one came up once again to gently grab your face. Although this time, his index finger rested along your jawline while his thumb and other fingers laced around your throat carefully, which nearly sent you into a frenzy. He leaned in to teasingly slip his tongue into your mouth, kissing you with such ferocity as if he craved the very breath in your lungs.

Frank vacillated his hips repeatedly against your own in a steady rhythm, but with a meticulous precision that revealed new depths with your body even you weren’t aware of. Every sensual thrust wound that tense coil within you tighter and tighter, and it was only a matter of time before you erupted into gratified pieces of confetti. Reaching a shaky hand up to grip onto the back of his neck, your fingertips vibrated as they brushed over the close shaven hair on the back of his head, and you pulled him down forcefully for another deeply passionate kiss.

Only when your lungs began to burn due to lack of oxygen did you finally break apart. He leaned in to press his forehead against yours, gazing so deeply into your eyes you swore he could see right into your soul. You stared back up into Frank’s eyes as yours became glossy due to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure you were experiencing. His coarse grunts and reverberating groans echoing in your ears had your toes curling, and as your mouth hung open in silent begging, you nodded swiftly with an expression that let Frank know you felt it too.

“Please…please…”

That familiar bubble of euphoria was starting to expand wider and wider within your lower belly and you weren’t sure how much longer you had before it burst. The way Frank fit perfectly within your body was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, and you were stuck on the cusp of never wanting it to end, but also wanting to see just how far it could go. You had never been with someone that seemed to be so finely in tune with your body, or that genuinely cared about your satisfaction, but Frank was treating your pussy as if he had designed it specifically for himself. The realization of knowing you wouldn’t have to finish yourself off later like you had to with your exes was a welcomed relief, but not knowing what brink of indulgence Frank was about to catapult you over was exhilarating.

“Frank…Frank…”

“S’alright, baby, I know. Let me have it, yeah? C’mon baby, let go for me.”

A soft whimper slipped past your lips. You were so close, and God you wanted so badly to jump head first into the free fall. But a tiny part of you felt frustrated because you wanted to witness Frank free fall too. You wanted to see him let go, hear his praises of your name, and be coherent enough to feel Frank lose himself.

But you would have to wait your turn, because Frank was sending you barreling towards the edge of an orgasm with every punctual and powerful snap of his hips, and you had no choice but to surrender to the heat of his body enveloping yours in a cocoon of pure warmth and safety.

Frank grabbed both of your smaller hands and laced your fingers together, giving them a tight squeeze as a tangible reminder he was right there with you. He pinned them gently on the soft rug above your head, his pace becoming a bit sloppy as he began to lose his own composure.

“Look at me, sweetheart. Let me see them pretty eyes, c’mon. Let me see ‘em.”

You struggled to keep your eyes open until you physically couldn’t, wanting to witness every second of Frank’s own impending climax contorting his features as he fought to control himself until you were ready to let go.

“There ya go, attagirl. Let go for me, sweetheart. S’alright, let me have it, yeah?”

A symphony of his name played from your lips at a steady crescendo until it filled the entirety of the cabin, and all at once a flash of white exploded behind your eyes as you free fell through space and time, floating in a cloud composed of Frank’s honeyed praises of your name and delicate sweet nothings. You’d given yourself powerful orgasms before but you had never felt something so intense as the delectation Frank created. It felt like you were floating between the astral space between Heaven and Earth, and you weren’t sure you could find your way back to your physical body again.

There was a faint amber glow flickering across your closed lids, and as you slipped in and out of coherence, you felt soft lips delicately pressing against your forehead and the edge of rough fingers gently stroking along your cheekbone lovingly. You didn’t want to move, you weren’t even sure if you could, but there was one thing you did want.

“Frank?”

The voice that resonated in your ears was fuzzy and distant, and it didn’t even sound like it belonged to you. A strong pair of arms wrapped securely around you, pulling you in from your stranded orbit closer towards where you were meant to be, and Frank’s soothing gruff voice quietly dripped a sacred promise into your ear.

“M’here.”

The hypnotic lullaby of his heart’s rhythm tethered you back to the dreamlike reality of Frank holding you against his chest, and that was all you needed to slip away under the blanket of stars that were dancing behind your eyes.

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

#frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle smut #frank castle series #the bodyguard series #bodyguard!frank castle fic #bodyguard!frank castle series #bodyguard!frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher fic #the punisher smut #the punisher series

1K notes · View notes

t-horn-n · 11 days ago

Note

Hi! I loved your silco x hoh!reader! Would you be willing to write something for silco with a reader that has chronic joint pain?

— reductions and oxidations

pairing: silco x reader (female)

genre: fluff ?

summary: request from anon: “Hi! I loved your silco x hoh!reader! Would you be willing to write something for silco with a reader that has chronic joint pain?”

word count: 925

note: please let me know how I did!

“Don’t move,” you say, lowly, into the thug’s face whom you have on his knees facing the walls of some now abandoned storehouse.

He squirms beneath your hands, but you’re exerting enough pressure onto the juncture between his thigh and calf that he doesn’t go far. All the idiot and his brawn are responsible for is receiving and shipping out shimmer according to Silco’s commands—you can never keep the stuff at any single location for too long without asking for trouble. The guy kneeling before you oversees a comparatively small warehouse on the outskirts of the Lanes with a very little chance of getting caught by Enforcers. Nonetheless, he got cold feet and tried to bail.

And, well, Silco doesn’t exactly tolerate kinks in his plans.

It was a slow week for them, and they didn’t even have any shimmer to guard, so they were sitting around playing cards when you took their boss and sent him sprawling to the floor. Everyone else had made the prudent decision to vacate the building. That was fine. You only need a leader to send a message.

“You’re more of a fool than I took you for, dear.”

He writhes again so you squeeze the soft part of the back of his neck harder which makes your own hand ache, but unlike him, you don’t make mistakes.

“Silco requires very little of you, but you can’t even handle keeping track of a few things without running away with your tail between your legs?”

You feel him shiver beneath your fingers as you show him your gun.

“Wait! Wait!” he cries. “Give me another chance. I’ll prove myself. I won’t disappoint him. Or you.”

He flinches as you pull the trigger anyway, but you’ve shot the ground by his knee rather than the back of his head. His teeth chatter and you release him.

“I know,” you say, patting him on the shoulder roughly.

It’s warm and milky in the alleys on your way back to the Last Drop. Despite the late hour, people are awake and out. There are courtesans who wink at you in recognition as you pass by their street and pop-up food vendors who are perfectly willing to sell you a late-night bite. Tonight, however, your intentions are single-minded and lie in terms of returning home where you can use sleep to escape all the sensations that plague you during the day. You try not to flex your fists as you light a cheap cigarette—really the only kind you can get down there. You ache all over, like you always do, but it’s more than sore muscles. It feels as though within you are rusting metal gears that are constantly at odds with each other, teeth grating against teeth, and after brute jobs like these, it’s especially bad in your hands. There’s no one in the Undercity that enjoys a painless day, though, so you suck it up as best you can and move on with your life.

You swipe an abandoned drink as you make your way upstairs to Silco’s office. You finish it off and leave the glass on a table that sits in the hallway just outside Silco’s door and is already covered by a dozen other glasses you’ve left there.

You collapse into the chair sitting opposite his desk to, if for no other reason, relieve the pressure on your knees. Silco’s there, as he always is, poring over maps and spreadsheets and whatever other papers he has to worry about, even though it’s past any reasonable bedtime.

“I’m home,” you declare with no small amount of sarcasm. You left the muscle you had taken with you to the warehouse downstairs.

He diverts his attention away from his work to you, his orange eye slower to follow his brown one. Then he sighs, and you don’t know why until he reaches across his desk to pluck the cigarette from your lips and put it out in his ashtray.

“I thought we decided that you would stop smoking.”

“I’ll be lucky if it’s smoking that kills me.”

He offers you a pointed stare. He’s only worked up because Singed had mentioned that smoking worsens already bad joints, but you maintain that the world would be a much worse place if you started believing everything said by someone that crazy.

“I heard you let him live,” Silco continues, and you know he’s talking about the nice gentleman in the warehouse.

“Eh. My hands hurt. Wouldn’t want to overexert them.”

You sound mocking, but he lets it slide.

“You have a gun.”

You shrug.

“You don’t receive rewards for being kind in Zaun.”

“You don’t keep me around because I make bad decisions.”

He sighs again, but suddenly you fall forward onto his beloved papers, laying your head on crossed arms.

“You should go to sleep, too. You’re at risk of overworking yourself,” you say.

You feel his fingertips lightly brush the length of your forearm.

“The ink is probably wet on some of those,” he tells you.

“Oh well.”

He makes patterns on your skin lightly with his nail.

“Get up. Your neck will hurt in the morning.”

“It already does,” you murmur.

Silco rises.

“I’m not your father and you’re not a child. You’re welcome to stay here for the night.”

You groan, but follow him out of the door and down the stairs and through the streets of the Lanes. If you’re lucky, he’ll let you drag him off to buy a bowl of hot noodles and a hazardous looking drink.

— m. list

#x reader #silco x reader #silco #silco arcane #silco fanfiction #arcane x reader #arcane fanfiction #arcane season 2

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darkenamour · 8 months ago

Text

Yandere-ish!Clark Kent/Superman x Coworker!Reader

This was messily written. I wrote as it came to me.

Warnings: Forced Amnesia, Pregnancy, Unintentional Cheating, Kidnapping, Yandere Behavior, Forced Relationships.

Summary: You were reborn in the DC world and started working at the Daily Planet. You didn't plan to start a relationship with the Superman, it just happened. Though you probably will regret it.

You were just a below average person, nobody really, in your first life. When you suddenly passed, you didn't know what to expect. But, you certainly didn't expect to be reborn.

Growing up in a suburb with loving parents was absolutely pleasant. They encouraged you to do your best and try everything at least once. It sets your new life on a positive path with a lifelong career.

Everything seemed normal, it looked almost like you were given a second chance at life. Until you noticed familiar names. At first you brushed them off as coincident, until you read what happened in a small town named Smallville.

Your dream was to be an editorial writer, nothing too flashy but, it was a passion you never pursued. Though with how things were going, it might be. After all, you grew up in Metropolis.

Years later you started to work at the Daily Planet. Lois Lane was a headache and a half. She was an amazing journalist, she submitted stories before the deadline, her articles bring the most profit, but for some reason she would drop the newbies on you when she smelled a story.

It wasn't too bad, you got the newbies settled in and made new friends. Perry White, your boss, gives you all the credit when things run smoothly and lessens your workload when he sees it happen. When Clark Kent shows up, Perry warns Lois to not drop him on you. You counted yourself lucky when Clark followed Lois around, even when she tried leaving him.

Jimmy Olsen, the last newbie officially assigned to you, would invite you and the others to coffee. It was a regular thing that a few of you joined in. At some point Clark was roped in. You still kept your distance as much as you could. But, his boy scout attitude caught up and he managed to wedge himself into your life.

One morning at work, Lois decided to dump her workload on you because she had to be the first to catch a scoop. Clark was nice enough to help, until he tilted his head and excused himself. Lois came back with a headliner and Clark scowled her for dumping her work on someone else. Perry gave her an earful.

Strangely Lois kept dumping her work on others, in favor of looking for a bigger story. She usually did come back with one, so Perry would only reprimand her on work ethics. Then Clark started to bring in more coherent stories that were on par with Lois’. Least to say she started to get jealous.

After a year with Clark working at the organization, you, and Jimmy, became closer to Clark. You could tell that Jimmy knew about Clark being Superman. Though you feigned ignorance for your own protection. But, life had other plans.

Someone, probably a villain, sent Clark a box of kryptonite at the building. You shoved the box into an old filing cabinet made of lead before it could affect him. No one knew about Superman's weakness yet.

After work, Jimmy took the kryptonite and Clark asked to speak with you. You told him how you were reborn and knew things from your past life. You never told what exactly you knew, but assured him you wouldn't do anything to hurt someone with your information. Clark accepts what you told him, most likely from listening to your heartbeat.

From there you somehow get roped into small adventures with Clark and Jimmy. It didn't affect your work, but you wished life would go back to normal. The three of you got closer and you ended up meeting the Kent family. Martha and John were lovely people to be around. Even though they kept assuming you were either with Clark, or Jimmy, romantically. It seemed like they were proven right a year later.

You don't know how it happened, but you and Clark started to develop a deeper connection. Jimmy would whine about being the third wheel whenever he could. When things started to get serious, something unbelievable happened.

Someone with the ability to change the present, made it so that Superman, Clark, would forget you and start a relationship with Lois Lane. To balance the world and make everything right. What they failed to do was to wipe everyone else's memory of you.

Jimmy, the only person that knew about your relationship, was absolutely mad that Clark started to ignore you. Then became downright furious when he suddenly went after Lois. You had to calm him down and explain everything. He wasn't happy, but understood there was nothing he could do. When you found out you were pregnant, Jimmy did something without telling you.

Your pregnancy was hard, not only because of the pain and mood swings but from carrying a super fetus. Jimmy was with you every step of the way, Clark awkwardly assumed Jimmy was the father. It hurt knowing Clark was there, not having a single memory of you two together. Then Martha and John came to your baby shower. It turned out Jimmy told them what happened and they wanted to help.

Raising your son was difficult, but with the help of Jimmy, the Kents, and your parents the load was lessened. By the time your son turned five, Batman entered the picture.

You were shaken to your core. The Batman was standing in your kitchen after you settled your boy to bed. You told him everything, or at least everything that involved you, Superman, and your son. He left after telling you he would be in touch.

When it was closing in on your son's seventh birthday, Clark visited you. He looked haggard and devastated. When you both sat down, he told you how he regained his memory and how sorry he was that he wasn't there for you. You assured him it wasn't his fault and asked if he wanted to be a part of your son's life. He introduced himself as your coworker, not ready to tell the boy the truth.

His relationship with Lois ended. It caused a hostile environment at work. She would try to dump her work on you, but Clark would either finish it or hand it back. Perry would reel her in and ground her with desk work. After a while it seemed to calm down until the most devastating news came.

Lex Luthor kidnapped your son.

Lois let slip that Superman had a son and heavily implied that you were the mother. Your son didn't have any abilities except slight strength. He was just an ordinary boy. Superman was furious and went after Luthor without mercy.

On screen, for the world to see, was Luthor standing over Superman with kryptonite in his hand. Your son was crying and begging for Superman to get up. Luthor was trying to “prove” kryptonians were dangerous by showing the destruction caused.

Luthor walked up to your son, who was shaking, with the kryptonite. Your breath was stuck in your chest. Then your son swung his fist at Luthor. He helplessly kept punching the man's legs. Luthor laughed and held the meteorite close to your son's face. Without hesitating, your son grabbed the thing and threw it as far away as he could. Luthor was shocked. So were you.

Superman regained some of his strength and punched the man unconscious. He clarified that your son wasn't Superman's son and that Luthor was a madman. You were happy for your son's safe return and that Luthor was thrown in prison.

Clark didn't let you, or your son, out of his sight. He brought you both to the Fortress of Solitude and checked your son's genetic makeup. He did not have the same genetic condition that causes kryptonians to react to kryptonite. It would still have a mild effect, but essentially he was immune. He also didn't seem likely to be able to fully obtain kryptonian abilities. His slight strength was a marker on what to expect in the future.

When you asked to be sent home, Superman refused. It was much safer for you both to be here. Where he wouldn't lose either of you and never be able to forget.

#messy writing #DC yandere #yandere superman #yandere fic #tw kidnapping

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sugrhigh · 1 year ago

Text

HOTBOX - ( m.s )

part two

summary- matt finally decides to smoke with his best friends for the first time, and he finds that it’s impossible to keep his eyes off of you

warnings- drug use, swearing, tiny bit suggestive

bff!matt x fem!reader

a/n: WOOOO finally a real piece of writing! i hope u guys enjoy. will possibly do a part two but idk, so if you have requests just ask!

he can’t stop drumming his fingers against the wheel as he steers the car along, desperately trying to relax a little bit and focus on the music that’s blaring through the speakers.

chris sits beside him in the passenger seat, feet up on the dashboard as you guys speed toward your destination. he can hear you and nate conversing in the back, practically shouting at each other over the song.

the waterfront comes into view through his windshield a moment later, moonlight shimmering against the glassy surface. matt takes the next left, swerving across both lanes of traffic to pull into the deserted lot.

there’s nobody on the beach of course, considering it’s almost midnight in the middle of november. he throws the car into park and lowers the volume, shifting in his seat so he can actually see everyone.

“i think that’s the fastest i’ve ever seen you drive, grandpa.” you tease him, unbuckling so you can lean forward in your seat.

he rolls his eyes, though he never actually minds it when you’re the one chirping at him.

“you’re gonna wish it was me once nate gets behind the wheel, i promise.”

“wow, so i volunteer to stay sober and this is the thanks i get?” his friend asks, arms crossed over his chest defensively.

“thank you nate.” you reply in a sing-song voice.

“yeah, yeah. whatever.”

matt watches as you claw through your bag, finally digging out a small blue pouch after a few more seconds of searching.

the moment you unzip it, the all-too familiar smell of weed fills the interior of the car. chris cheers when he sees you pull out a perfectly packed joint, holding it in between your middle and pointer finger with precision.

“you know, it’s really upsetting that you can roll better than me.” nate shakes his head with a sigh.

“aw, you gonna cry about it?” you puff your bottom lip out at him.

“i swear i’ll fucking walk home and leave you guys stranded.”

“sure you will. hold this.” you pass the joint to him before retrieving the lighter.

matt tries to play down the smile that’s beginning to take over his face as you hold it in your palm. he got that one for you on your last birthday. it’s a silver zippo lighter with a big winding dragon engraved on the side.

it was kind of a gag gift just because he knows how much you smoke, but you ended up genuinely loving it way more than he had ever expected.

chris smacks him in the arm gently, and he finally tears his eyes away from you.

“you sure you want to?” his brother double checks, though he doesn’t do a very good job of containing his obvious excitement.

“yup.” matt replies simply, his gaze darting in your direction again.

he’s never once felt pressured to smoke before, but he’s always been a little curious. he’s hung out with the three of you while you’re all stoned enough times to realize that he at least wants to try it.

and sure, maybe a tiny part of him is doing this because he wants to impress you. but what’s the harm in that?

“i’ll start her off, but then it’s coming your way matty b.” you nod at him with a smile, taking the joint back from nate.

his heart is already pounding and all you did was look at him.

you put the filter between your lips and spark his lighter, holding the flame to the end. he watches it burn as you inhale, trying to figure out exactly how he’s supposed to do this when it’s his turn.

you blow the smoke over your shoulder, careful not to do it in anyone’s face. no cough. matt doesn’t even see you flinch.

you take one more quick drag, and he’s already entranced by your fluid movements.

then you stretch your hand out, offering him the next hit as you silently exhale once again. it’s impossible for him to ignore the way he fumbles with your hand before he finally pinches it between his fingers.

it feels awkward, like he’s somehow already doing it wrong.

“just put your lips on it, suck in, not for long though because that’s real shit. then hold it in your throat, inhale it, exhale it.” you instruct him, and his mouth is already dry from the way you’re talking.

there’s something about the commanding edge to your voice that’s driving him crazy. he kind of likes that you’re the know-it-all, the one in control.

“sounds dirty, but you get the point.” chris states with a shrug.

yeah, sounds fucking dirty.

“you got this, don’t even think about it too much.” nate adds encouragingly.

matt bites the bullet, curling his lips around the end and inhaling. he definitely feels the smoke fill his lungs, so he pulls the joint away quickly and practically tosses it to chris.

“exhale, exhale.” you instruct, and he does so all at once.

it fogs up the car, smoke flying back up in his face instantly. then he feels it. the burning in his throat. the desperate need to cough.

he sputters, and chris is already motioning to one of the waters in the cup holder.

“keep holding your breath and drink that.”

he tries to do as he’s told, but it’s impossible to hold it in. he lets out a loud hacking cough. then another, and another. matt tries to sip on the water in between them, though it’s hard.

you rub his arm gently as the cough attack begins to die down, and the feeling of your fingernails scratching him lightly through his sweatshirt almost makes him shiver.

“i personally like a good cough everyone once in a while. humbles me.” you joke, removing your hand and sitting back in your seat once you’re sure he’s alright.

he misses your touch immediately, and it’s embarrassing.

chris has been keeping it lit, so he passes it back to you once you’re ready. matt is left out for a moment, and he doesn’t mind the brief break.

the music stays on in the background, a curated playlist of stuff that you all like. he sees you bopping your head along to baby keem, and you turn to him with the joint still burning between your lips.

“you want more?” you say as the smoke curls around your face.

in many ways.

matt nods and reaches to grab it from you, trying to be careful where he positions his fingers. he repeats his actions from earlier, breathing out slowly this time.

he still coughs quite a bit, but it’s not nearly as bad. the high is definitely rushing straight to his head, and it makes him feel like a balloon full of helium.

his brother guides the joint out of his hand gently. even he wheezes a bit as he takes his fair share, which makes matt feel better.

“how do you feel bro?” nathan asks him through the haze that’s filled the car.

“good. i feel good.” that’s all he can think to say.

and it is nice. everything seems just a little bit lighter. his body feels…loose. matt blinks, and he swears he sees stars behind his eyelids.

you reach up to open the sunroof, letting some fresh air into the car. there’s not a cloud in the sky tonight, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore calms him.

“one more baby hit, then you’re done.” you pass it to him for the last rotation.

“so bossy.” matt smirks at you, and there’s a humorous glint in your eyes as you watch him take a drag.

he tries impossibly hard to make it look cool, despite almost hacking up a lung and choking on his water. you laugh, but matt somehow understands that you’re not making fun of him by doing so.

chris snatches it from of his hand. “gimme that, it’s almost out.”

it’s like a game of ping pong as matt watches the two of you bounce back and forth, hit after hit. the joint dwindles and finally dies a minute later. you toss the burnt remains into a dunkin bag from god knows how long ago before slipping the lighter back into the pouch.

“alright, matt. time for you to switch with me big boy.” nathan reminds him, turning to open his car door.

matt follows his lead. his body feels like it’s three feet behind his brain, like his consciousness is just a few seconds faster. his legs wobble as his feet hit the ground, but he manages to steady himself, hand against the car as he moves.

nate walks him to the door just in case, and matt stumbles into his new home in the back, laughing at himself under his breath. you help him sit upright in the middle seat, reaching across his body to get to the belt.

“lift your arm.” you tell him, and even though he doesn’t want to, he listens.

you pull the buckle around and click it into place so he’s properly strapped in, doing it for him like he’s a toddler or something.

this is an action he’d normally protest, but he’s solely focused on how close together you are. he can feel the heat radiating from your body as your shoulder presses against his, knees knocking together as he gets comfortable.

“how are you doing? everything okay?” you ask lowly, looking up at him through those long lashes.

he can see the red tinging your eyes, and his own feel droopy as he continues to stare. matt just can’t help it. you look so gorgeous, somehow even more so when you’re both faded.

“cat got your tongue?” you joke, head tilted back to rest against the seat as nate puts the car in reverse.

“you’re pretty.” it slips out before he can stop it, and yet he’s too high to care.

your eyes go a little wide, and your lips part slightly as you suck in a breath. he wants to kiss you so bad, to get rid of the centimeters of space between you and just press his mouth to yours.

“and you’re stoned.” you smile a bit and look away, trying to play it off.

“but i’m serious.” he doubles down, and you glance at him once more with those fucking bambi eyes.

you shake your head and place your hand on his thigh. “i promise you’re not.”

it ignites a fire in his stomach, one that won’t die down. he wants to move his hips, to feel some sort of friction against your palm. but he holds still, even despite how much he needs you.

“you don't know me.” matt hears his words slur together slightly as he speaks.

“i definitely do.” you argue.

“fine, but you can’t possibly guess what’s going on in my head.”

matt’s still not sure where any of this is coming from, or why he’s saying it to you now, but the word vomit won’t stop.

you shrug, squeezing his thigh lightly. he shifts a little bit, trying not to get too worked up over the pressure.

“i guess that’s true. so what are you thinking?”

matt glances up front at his brother and his best friend, and he knows neither of them are paying attention to the two of you. they’re too busy singing piña colada by yung pinch to care.

he hears you hum a little bit of the chorus under your breath as you wait for his response.

“i’m thinking about you.” he finally admits, leaning over so he can say it directly into your ear.

he can smell your rose shampoo, the fading hints of flowery perfume on your skin. it’s intoxicating, being near you like this.

you move your hand off his leg to shove his chest playfully. “shut up.”

the city blurs by as nate continues to drive, and matt admires the way the light from the street lamps dance across your face.

“why don’t you believe me?” he mumbles, barely audible over the combination of the breeze and the music.

“because you’re high as a kite, i can see it written all over your face.”

“doesn’t mean i’m lying.”

you study his face like you’re trying to find the truth in it. he can’t help but grin, because you’re so fucking clueless, and it makes you smile right back.

“touché.”

#matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #fanfic #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #youtube

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iguana-eyanna · 2 years ago

Text

Too Late

Pairing: Clark Kent x plus size witch reader

Summary: All you ever wanted was for Clark to be happy, even if it wasn't you

requested by @salenorona23

You were typing furiously by your monitor, eyes glued on the screen.

You mutter under your breath, cursing your boss, Perry.

“You okay there?”

You look up and see Clark walking up to you in your seat.

“No, Perry didn’t like my pitch. I had to start from scratch.” You said in frustration.

"Don't worry, he does that to me 4 times a week." He said.

"Don't you pitch four stories a week?" You ask.

"Exactly." He replied, making you both laugh.

"Smallville, we need to head for lunch before I start tearing off heads." Lois Lane said as she was scrimmaging her bag, not bothering to say hello to you.

"You wanna join us? We could all split the bill at that chinese restaurant downtown." He asks.

"I brought some food in the break room. And I know not to get in the way with your pork dumplings. Have fun with Lois." You said, returning to your screen.

He smiles at you and runs after Lois. He stops in his track as he looks back at you, wondering how you knew his order if you two never really hung out before?

He shakes his head and caught up to Lois as they made their way to the restaurant.

A few minutes passed, and you got up from your desk and headed to the break room. Now that you were alone, you locked the door and pulled out a small mirror that fit inside of your tote back and muttered a short phrase.

"Show me him."

The mirror swirled with a purple light and transformed your reflection into the present, where you saw Clark laughing at what Lois said. They looked like they were having a time of their mundane lives.

You hated it, but you can't look away. The way he looked at her... it was the same way he looked at you.

But he doesn't remember.

It happened about a few months ago. There was an accident at a LexCorp building as it begun to collapse down. Clark was running late from a date to save everyone that night, but right when he was about to fly out, his powers gave out. The room radiated with blue kryptonite, a rock that took away his powers and made him an ordinary man. He tried to escape, but too much debris knocked him down and made him unconscious.

You were waiting for him at the restaurant where you'd meet up. Yes, there were occasions that Clark would come late... but you knew in your gut something was wrong as you didn't see Clark in sight, so you used your powers to transport to where he was.

No good ever happened when people knew your secret as you reformed from an evil Covet, except to Clark.

He accepted you without hesitation and loved every part of you that you hated. And you helped he realized he wasn't alone. Your emotions took you to where he was, and you panicked as you saw him on the ground, unconscious. You made a force field around you as you transported out with a spell. You were far away to God knows where and you tried to wake him up.

"Please..." You begged him to just open his eyes.

He did in fact opened those beautiful blue piercing eyes that had hints of green in them.

But they were in confusion as he saw you.

"What's going on? What just happened?" He asks as he shuffles up, trying to get away from you.

"You were struck by some debris, I transported us out in time-"

"If a building collapsed, it's not safe for you to be here, ma'am."

That's when you choked on the air you were breathing as you heard what he just said.

He forgot who you were.

He gets up in alert, as they were more to do to help the civilians during the catastrophe.

"Let me fly you out to safety and-"

"No, it's alright. My home's not too far from here and, I didn't get hurt." You said.

Superman looked unsure if he should leave you, but others needed his help.

"Please take care." He says before he flies away, leaving you.

Your chest tightens as you fall on your knees, trying to hold back a sob so he doesn't hear you cry.

So many things could be done to regain his memory. You could show him all these pictures and cheesy letters you wrote to each other. You could tell him that you know of his home planet. You could use your powers!

But you couldn't.

If a witch used their powers on a mortal's mind, it could dissolve all of their memories in just a single second. The damage would be unfixable. You can't imagine the pain Clark would go through if you did that to him, or either show him a reality that he may not with you.

So... you decided to erase your entire relationship. Clark and you were never open about your relationship to anyone. You were a very private person and Clark respected your wishes (He called his mom though and briefly told her that he thinks he found the one.)

Using his spare key at his apartment, you went inside and just took away everything that was associated to you.

The pictures in the frames, the coffee mug you bought him for his birthday, you took everything away.

It was painful for you, but it had to be done.

You were unsure how'd he react if he saw you at work, but he just assumed that you were just a writer at the Daily Planet that he hadn't met yet.

"Hi, I don't think we met. I'm Clark Kent." He said, offering you his hand to shake.

As you see his features, it was like you were staring back at another person. None of his shared memories he had appeared to him, and he didn't expect that you saw him as Superman that night.

You had to bite your tongue momentarily and smile, returning the same friendly nature.

"It's nice to meet you."

You thought you two would be closer and maybe you can form more memories with him. But you saw how he looked at Lois. She was fearless, driven, and the best journalist there was on your floor.

Was she a bit blunt? Yeah, but she was like that to everyone, so no one took offense as she was also really understanding. You couldn't be upset with her, not when she made Clark happy. It killed you every night, as you slept in your bed alone, wishing he was there to hold you. But you'd be selfish, stripping away a new life he made for himself.

So you stayed at an arm's length. But you made sure that he was ok... or rather you kept on checking on him to see if he remembered.

The days past on, and one problem was after another. Lex Luthor was desperate to get his hands on kryptonian technology and Clark wouldn't stand for it. So when Luther revived General Zod and created Doomsday, it was the hardest fight Clark had to face.

You saw the explosions from afar and saw the red caped hero trying defeat him, but it was no use. Even with Batman and the Amazonian Warrior, it was hard to keep him at bay.

They needed help, or else this would be a losing battle.

You transported nearby, waiting for the opportunity to attack. And that's when you saw it, the green kryptonite spear that they tried to kill Doomsday with.

The Amazonian Warrior tried to restrain it with her lasso and batman blew a kryptonian grenade at the beast.

And that's when you saw Clark, who looked almost beaten as Lois was trying to let him stay away. You knew what he was going to do... Clark was a selfless man. He flew away to protect Lois picking up the spear and headed towards Doomsday.

But suddenly, a power restrained him from going any farther. He tried to resist the force that was on him, but then he heard a voice.

"Stop, don't fight it."

He turns his head and saw you running towards him with a worried gaze.

Clark was confused at your presence.

"You shouldn't be here! You gotta get out of-"

"Clark." You stopped him as a tear rolled down your face.

You stepped forward, placing a hand on his cheek. Why did it feel so familiar to him?

"I lost you once, I'm not going to lose you again."

You took the staff away from his grasp and you levitated away from him as he tried to break from your spell. He thinks on your words, saying that you lost him. He winces as a spur of a memory flashes in his mind.

Clark looks up in fear.

"No, NO! STOP HER!" He yelled out to Bruce and Diana but it was no use.

You neared the ferocious beast with the lightning surrounding you both. You took your shot and traveled the spear through its chest using the strength you had.

It yells in pain and tries to get a hold of you, but you created different versions of yourself to confuse doomsday. But it became smarter and swatted its arms till it caught the real you. Doomsday then pierced you in your abdomen.

You were in unbelievable pain, but you had one more chance. You raised your hands to the spear, using one last spell to reach to the inner core of doomsday. Then suddenly, a burst of light goes up in the air, knocking you backwards away from the beast.

As you lost your focus, Clark was now free from your enchantment and flew over to you, holding you upward.

"Hey, hey, c'mon." he whispers to you as he tried to stop the bleeding.

"Did I- I stop it?" You stuttered.

He nods, trying to smile to stay strong as he could hear your heartbeat beating slower.

"Yes. You did it. You're going to be okay. I'll fly you up to the nearest hospital, they'll patch you up good as new."

"I think... we both know that's not possible." You fluttered your eyes, about to lose consciousness.

"No no no, stay with me. I - I... I remember now. I remembered every Sunday afternoon when we watch those bad rom coms and I hold you close to me. I remembered when we always bought each other flowers for no apparent reason. I remembered that I... I wanted to marry you."

You smiled back, giving a heartful chuckle before you began to cough. Clark held you a bit tighter in his chest.

"I would have loved to be yours again." You whispered.

"You were always mine... Imma fool to forget you." He said, tears pricking his eyes.

"I... forgive you, Clark. I just wanted you to be... happier." You closed your eyes again, but they never opened.

"Baby? Baby wake up." He tried placing his hand softly on your cheek but it was cold. He tried listening to a heartbeat but there was silence.

Clark broke into a blood curdling scream. He pleads to anyone to bring you back, to just open your eyes so he could see them once more.

And those around him saw the strongest man in the world break down as he lost someone who loved him.

Now, he was too late.

#superman #clark kent #dc #detective comics #clark kent x reader #man of steel #superman x reader #superman x plus size reader #clark kent x plus size reader #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x plus size reader

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pawnshopbleus · 6 months ago

Text

These Are the Days Five - The Emerald City

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader High School AU

For the summary, warnings, and more please visit here.

Previous chapter.

The library is drab and dreary as usual. It is quiet except for the usual sneeze or cough that comes out of studying students.

Dina and Jesse sit in the chairs across from you, their brows furrowed as they try and understand their homework. They’re taking AP Physics together which they both agree was a mistake.

You, on the other hand, are still struggling with your math homework. No matter how many times you did the equation, you still got the answer wrong. It’s gotten to the point where you’ve had to switch the paper you were writing on. The old one had gone gray with how many times you erased and wrote over it.

The doors to the library swing open, giving you a glimpse of the free souls roaming the hallways.

Abby and Ellie pull up chairs and sit at the table with you three. Their faces are slick with sweat dirt, they’re wearing their softball uniforms, and they have their bags in hand. They drop their bags with a thud and place their sweaty foreheads on the table.

“Long practice?” Dina asks, looking up from her physics homework for the first time.

Ellie grunts, giving you all the answers that you need.

Your parents were always too busy with work to put you in anything recreational. The closest thing you did to a sport was ride your bike everywhere. Now that your bike is gone, all that there’s left to do is walk.

Ellie lifts her head, “You know what would make me feel better? The Crab Pot.”

Abby sighs at the thought of seafood. She likes it but less than she likes Mexican food.

“That touristy place in Miners Landing?” Abby asks.

Ellie nods her head with a smirk on her face at the thought of seafood.

“I don’t think they doordash,” Jesse sighs. He too would like some seafood.

“I’m not using doordash. I’m driving down there.” Ellie waves her keys at the group

Dina looks at Ellie, confused, “I thought your dad took your keys away because you threw a party again?”

“One car ride with me in the morning and he practically begged me to take my keys back.”

“Road trip?” Jesse suggests, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Ellie’s keys.

“Road trip,” Ellie nods.

Ellie's car is a bright red Jeep Wrangler with an extra row of seating. It’s the perfect vehicle for a family of six or in this case, five teenagers on their way to Seattle.

Jesse turns to you. “You better buckle up. Ellie’s a bit of a-” he’s interrupted by the jolt of the car.

“Sorry!” Ellie exclaims. “I didn’t see the curb!”

“A scary driver,” Jesse finishes his thought before he’s sitting up right in his seat.

Lakeview becomes a blur the farther away the five of you ride along. You don’t have room to comment on Ellie’s driving as you don’t have a license or a car. She narrowly avoids running over a few trash cans and parked cars but soon enough you make it on the freeway.

Cars honk and pass Ellie as she tries to get over a lane. You feel bad for her. You can tell that she’s trying by the way she keeps checking her surroundings but cars around her aren’t giving her any grace. Dina’s got one hand on Ellie’s thigh, a reverse of what people usually expect. Dina’s trying her hardest to calm Ellie down and by the looks of it, it’s working.

Ellie merges off the freeway and you’re taken aback by the beauty of Seattle. The greenery that surrounds all the skyscrapers and modern buildings is mother nature’s way of saying that she is ‘still here.’

Ellie pulls into the parking lot of Miner’s Landing and sighs with relief. “We made it.”

You notice that Abby hasn’t said anything the entire drive. She throws a hoodie over her dirty softball uniform and you nearly roll your eyes. Owen’s name is sprawled across the back in gold letters.

You get out of the car and follow the Seattle experts onto the pier. Being here almost reminds you of home. If you just close your eyes, the salty air in and creaking wood under your feet could transport you back to those countless beach days.

Abby grabs your hand and pulls you along with them. Your day dreaming of home has led you to be a bit behind the group.

Your mind goes blank and for a split second you can feel your heart give a jolt at your skin on Abbys. This doesn’t mean anything, right? She just didn’t want you to get left behind.

The two of you catch up with the rest of the group already waiting for the next available table. Ellie and Jesse are talking about the latest comic book Ellie bought with her allowance while Dina braids a few strands of Ellie’s hair.

Abby let go of your hand a while ago but you can still feel the way her soft skin felt upon yours. You sit there, in silence as you watch her leg bounce up and down. Somethings wrong, it’s been evident ever since she made her way into the library but you haven’t had the chance to ask her.

“Hey,” Dina waves her hand in front of your face, trying to get your attention. “Isn’t this your first time at Miners Landing?”

“This is my first time in Seattle actually. I saw a little bit as we drove in, but I haven’t actually had the chance to explore.”

Dina’s eyes widen and a smile grows on her face. “We have to show you around!”

The hostess calls Dina’s name and escorts you all to the back of the restaurant. It’s illuminated by the light outside and the yellow lights above. The table is covered in a red and white gingham tablecloth and a smaller white tablecloth for extra protection.

Menus are placed on the table and the hostess leaves, saying that your waitress will be out in a few. As promised, a waitress with a blue pixie cut comes out with a smile on her face.

After you order your food and drinks, the waitress collects your menus. An old jazz song is playing softly in the background while other patrons enjoy their food. You observe the people walking through the big windows in the front of the restaurant. A little girl drops her ice cream, an old man almost trips but is saved by his grandson, a mom uses her kids forward, and a man that almost looks like a famous actor trips his untied shoelaces.

Abby’s phone starts ringing and she sighs as she takes it out of her pocket. Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and you all peer at Abby nervously.

“Hello, Owen,” Abby says enthusiastically.

Abby excuses herself from the table and walks outside. As soon as Abby’s foot is out of the door, your food comes. You could care less about your clam chowder as you watch Abby through the big windows. The blue and gold hoodie she’s wearing makes her stand out of the crowd.

Her brows are furrowed and she’s talking with her hands as if Owen can see her right now. Parents shield their children's ears as they look at Abby with a mixture of concern and caution.

“I fucking hate Owen,” Ellie shakes her head as she breaks apart a crab leg.

“Don’t we all,” Jesse sighs.

This catches your interest and for the first time this evening, you pay attention to the conversation happening around you.

“You guys don’t like Owen?” you ask.

“Who does? He’s an asshole and he’s a horrible boyfriend,” Dina jabs her fork into a potato.

“Then why don’t you guys tell Abby that? Maybe that’ll wake her up a bit.”

“Don’t you think we’ve tried? They’re that type of couple that’s on and off again. I thought the last time that they broke up it would be for good but I was mistaken. They were back together two weeks later and they’ve been dating ever since.” Ellie shared with you as you leaned in closer.

“The point is that we’ve given up on them breaking up for good,” Dina leans back in her chair, a look of pity on her face.

You let this information sink in as you play with the vegetables in your clam chowder. You knew that Abby and Owen’s relationship was a bit odd from what you’ve seen, but you never knew they were one of those couples.

You pitied Abby right about now. If you could, you would switch places with her in a heartbeat. She looked like she needed a break from whatever was going on. Her hair was a bit messy, partly from practice but also from pulling her hair out of frustration as she yelled into her phone. Before your mind could process what you were doing, you got up from the table, but Jesse put a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s better if we let them yell at each other. Trust us, we’ve tried everything,” Jesse says.

Abby hangs up the phone and sighs, looking at herself in the window, she sighs. She undoes her braid and ruffles her hair, trying her best to make it look more presentable.

The food on the table has now gone cold as Abby walks back in and takes her seat next to you. She takes a bite of her food and shudders as it goes down. She doesn’t say anything as you all look at her.

She looks up, ignoring your stares, “We should go on the Ferris wheel. I’ll pay.”

Abby takes out two one hundred dollar bills and places it on the table and gets up, not waiting for you to join her. You look at everyone, puzzled. It’s like staring at a mirror as they too look puzzled. You grab your stuff and get up, following Abby out of the restaurant and to the huge Ferris wheel.

Its lights flicker on as the sun sets, emitting a green and red glow across your face. You say ‘excuse me’ and ‘sorry’ as you cut through people to catch up with Abby at the front of the line.

The five of you sit in the gondola. The caged windows provide an obstructed view of Seattle on one side and the bay on the other. Abby peers out of the window, her nose almost touching the metal, and for a split second, you see a smile wash over her face. You blink and then it’s gone.

Next Chapter.

Taglist: @soupycloud

Thank you for reading!

#lesbian #abby tlou #abby the last of us #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby anderson #joel miller #the last of us part 2 #ellie the last of us #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams #dina tlou #jesse tlou #owen tlou

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theboardwalkbody · 7 days ago

Text

I just have a Protective/Rescuer Richie x Reader thought in my head I can't shake ATM. This got a bit longer than I thought also its after midnight forgive me if this is all over the place. I can't see straight anymore.

*note: i hate guns and kinda hate that he has one but anyway it kinda just fueled this scenario*

You've been working at The Beef a while. You're 'fully integrated'. Richie has a soft spot for you but you're Carmy's age and besides that he's a Hot Mess and Going Through Shit at the moment so he hasn't actually pursued anything.

One night it's late. Later than when you'd typically be at work. It's just you, Richie, and Carmy left behind cleaning and closing up. Carmy finished the kitchen and has himself holed up in the office. You're not fully convinced he hasn't actually just passed out at the desk from exhaustion, honestly. The day was a disaster and half the restaurant looked trashed. Carmy and Richie had an entire screaming fit over who should clean what and ultimately Carmy took kitchen and Richie took front of house (something about staying in their 'fucking lane' you heard them shouting). After a while Carmy let the rest of the kitchen staff leave because it was well passed a reasonable time to hold them even if there was stuff to do. Kitchen was mostly done anyway, and the bit that was left Carmy handled before heading into the office to 'sort some shit'.

So you and Richie worked front of house (as FOH was your domain, too). He was worked up, you could feel the frustration and aggravation in him spilling over. It was like holding your hand over a hot stove; the energy was radiating from him. You helped calm him a little. You put some music on (to keep you awake and to help you focus on cleaning) - it wasn't really his type and if it was anyone but you he would have made some snide comment on it. But because it was you he let you do what you wanted. You chose to put on Bastille's album Give Me the Future. It was a deliberate choice. It wasn't his type but the album has a sci-fi theme and references to some of his favorite things. During the parts with direct references you snuck glances at him to see if he was paying enough attention to notice. He did. He didn't acknowledge it verbally but you did catch him pause a moment, as if to process what he heard. You looked away and smiled. You liked he was paying attention at least.

As the night went on you tried talking him down a bit more. Tried to get him to at least smile. He wasn't receptive, however, so other than the music you worked in silence.

It was nearly finished. You turned off the music but left your phone on the table. You told him you'd take out the trash and that should be the last of it. You hated taking out the trash. One time you did and a raccoon jumped out at you. As much as you think they're cute it was terrifying to have one leap at you in the dark. It became a 'Richie job' after that but tonight his fuse was short and you were trying to do what you could to get things done quicker so he could get home and calm down.

He tried telling you not to, the most he'd spoken in a while. You told him you got it and walked off.

It was nearly 3am. It was pitch black outside. The flood light on the back of the restaurant had burned out so the only light you really had was what was spilling out from the open door. You held your breath and opened the dumpster. No feral but furry animal greeted you and you sigh in relief. So you toss the bag of garbage inside and close the lid.

Before you can turn around the light disappears. The back door closed and now you were left in the dark. Weird. You had propped it open. Someone would have had to have closed it. But they would have saw you, and why would they if they saw you out there.

Your stomach drops. You're afraid. You don't yet know why.

You're not far from the door. You're not afraid of the dark. You're just alone is all.

Except you're not alone.

You're walking towards the door and you're heart is already pounding and you don't yet know why when you hear what sounded like someone taking a step. You freeze and listen. You can't hear anything over your own breathing and your own heart beat so you hold your breath and try to will your heart to slow down.

You wish you hadn't been holding your breath because suddenly there's a hand over your mouth and an arm tightly wrapped around the middle of your torso making it hard for your lungs to fully expand. You're struggling to get enough air through your nose, your panic increasing your demand for oxygen making it feel like you are suffocating.

One of your arms was still free and you grasp at the hand over your mouth and, to your surprise, you manage to rip it away for a split second. You try screaming. You're not actually sure if you did. It felt like one of those nightmares where you try screaming for help but no sound comes out.

Whoever is behind you gets their hand back over your mouth. They wrap their leg around one of yours to pin you for a moment so you don't dart away when they remove their other arm from your body for a split second to grab something from their jacket. You don't know what but you do feel them place their arm tightly around you once more.

They speak. A man. He's demanding things. Money, drugs, whatever of value you could give. You're crying. You have nothing. But they want something. And you just want to get away. You want to be inside with Richie and Carmy and you don't want to be in the dark alone, but not-alone, with this man who has you in his arms and who smells awful and who has something in his hand and maybe it could hurt you but you don't know what it is.

You aren't sure if its better to freeze or to try and get away but being frozen hasn't worked this far. You just need to turn around and make it to the door. You just need to get your hand free and scream. Maybe someone would hear you. Maybe you'd be able to get to the door and open it and call out to Carmy and Richie.

You kick your foot forward to try and knock his leg from around yours. It works a bit. He staggers as he looses his balance slightly. The hand on your mouth slips, just a tiny bit, and for a split second but you can scream. You call out for Richie. The thing he was holding was a knife you realize as the blade grazes the side of your arm as he stumbles and steadies himself and retightens his hold on you. Then the fingernails on the hand around your mouth dig into your cheek and chin as he repositions his hand. He pulls you backwards. To pin you tighter or to move you you're not sure because you feel like cement now. You feel like your bones turned to stone.

He's speaking to you, voice harsh, but you don't know what he's saying. You close your eyes tight and try to block out everything happening.

You don't see the light from the restaurant spill out through the open door. You don't hear heavy footfalls approach. You don't hear the sound of a fist slamming into the side of your assailants head.

You do feel the body around yours shift and the grip loosen. You do feel them get violently ripped away from you. You do feel someone grab your arm and pull you towards them.

You open your eyes. Carmy is pulling you against him. Your back is against him and both of his arms are around you. He's holding you tightly against him and turning you so his body is between yours and your attackers. He's trying to guide you back inside.

You turn your head and look over his shoulder.

The man who last had your body against his was now on the ground. He had been knocked to the ground, one arm was propping him up so he wasn't laying on his back, the other was pressed tightly to his temple. His eyes were closed. The light wasn't the best but you thought you saw blood. The knife he had been holding was on the ground. Light danced on the part of the handle that was exposed. The blade itself was being stood on, securing it to the ground.

From your angle you could see both men. Richie to the left, and the attacker to the right. Richie loomed over him. His foot pinning the knife to the ground, keeping it out of reach of the man who had attacked you. His arm was outstretched, in his hand was his gun. You saw your attacker open his eyes and realize the situation he was in. You saw Richie look into the man's eyes and slowly shake his head twice. In a way it was as if Richie was silently conveying to the man that he not only made a terrible mistake but that he should not dare try anything else now or ever.

Carmy got you inside before you could see anything else. He took you to the back office, sat you down in the chair, shut the door and locked it. He came over to you, crouched down so he could be eye level with you and asked if you were okay. You nod.

He almost accepts your answer until he sees the scratch on your arm from where the knife had grazed you.

You caught a glimpse of Carmy's hand as he held your arm to look at the wound. His knuckles were bloody. You didn't feel or see any obvious bleeding on your arm. You realized it wasn't your blood, and it wasn't his either.

There was a knock at the door followed by Richie's voice calling for Carmy to let him in. Carmy stood and answered the door.

"She good?"

You nod despite not being the one asked.

"He cut her. On the arm."

"I'm fine." Your voice hurt. You didn't realize you had screamed that loudly.

Richie crossed the small room over to you. "Show me." He had crouched down like Carmy had before.

You looked at it yourself for the first time. The mark ran from the middle of your upper arm to a few inches below your elbow. It wasn't bad. You were lucky. It looked more like a cat scratch than anything.

You were left alone with Richie as Carmy fetches the things Richie ordered.

"That's nothing," you rasped.

He gently took your arm in his hands and examined the cut.

"Carmy. Water. Paper towels. Get her something to drink. Fuck's sake." He ordered.

He stood and reached down for your hands. "C'mere." He helped you up and once you were standing he wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly against him. You wrapped your arms around his body as if he would leave you if you let go, though he had no intention to.

When he spoke to you now his voice was softer. His eyes locked with yours. You were always stunned by how bright and blue they are. "You okay sweetheart?"

"I'm fine." but it came out as a whisper, and you were crying.

You closed your eyes. It didn't stop the tears from falling.

You could feel the warmth of his body, the rise and fall of his chest with his breathing, the security of his arms wrapped around you. You could smell his cologne. You could hear his heartbeat and then the way the sound of his voice reverberated in his chest and against your ear as he spoke softly.

"I got you."

#richie jerimovich #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #carmy berzatto #richie jerimovich x you #richie jerimovich x reader #maybe one day i will write this properly and fleshed out but i can rarely write anymore #so when i actually get the energy and drive to i just have to go with whatever happens otherwise i don't write at all #so sorry for the style/format not being great

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ultram0th · 11 months ago

Note

I love some of the pics you’ve made of big muscled cops. Do you think you could turn me into a totally massive one?

"Damn it," your police chief huffed as you waddled into his office. "That's the fourth uniform this week that you've hulked out of!"

"Sorry, Chief," you blushed, looking down at yourself.

You're the biggest cop on the force, towering over every other guy you work with. That, and you easily outsize them by at least one hundred pounds of rock hard muscle. You're a wall of muscle, looking like you should be a superheavyweight competitive bodybuilder as opposed to a police officer. Your bowling ball sized biceps constantly bulge out of your short sleeves, and your rotund pecs tore through your tight uniform shirts with ease. Even your uniform pants looked they were painted on, your massive thick quads looking incredibly large as they strained against your uniform. The sheer size of your legs reduced your strut to a cumbersome waddle, and your nearly inflexible arms forced your limbs outward at an awkward angle.

Unfortunately, your super-sized musculature sometimes led to your suspects escaping, easily outrunning the muscled up bodybuilder cop who waddled around the city blocks.

Your face flushed red, your massive pecs out in the open in front of your boss since your shirt had burst to shreds... again. You'd tried to flirt with a cute guy who'd been trying to sweet talk himself out of a ticket (it worked), and you'd playfully flexed your enormous muscletits-- RIIIPPP! Your muscletits had completely ruined your shirt for the umpteenth time since you'd gotten hired.

"Sorry, Chief," you apologized to your older boss. "I keep buying the largest size they have, but none of them seem to fit."

Your boss hummed, deep in thought, before perking up. "Okay, I think I have an idea," he finally said, a smile audible in his voice.

-- -- --

You signaled at the waiting taxi, giving the driver the okay to proceed down the street. As he passed by, his jaw hung low as he eyed your massive muscles up and down.

You couldn't help but smirk as you held up an arm to stop the other lane of traffic, your enormous bicep flexing with power as you moved.

Your chief had decided to move you to traffic duty, placing you in the middle of the intersections whenever some of the traffic lights went out. You didn't mind at all; in fact, you loved it! You got to show off your massive muscles for the whole city to see.

Speaking of, your chief finally helped you with your uniform problem.

Now, instead of having to cover your big muscles in some confining shirt and pants combo, your newly approved police uniform is a pair of blue speedos. You can affix your belt to it, and just put your hat on-- and that was it!

While on duty, your bodybuilder physique was constantly on display. Your plump pecs protruded far out in front of you, your nubby nipples constantly hard from the cool breeze passing over them. Your arms could flex with power without the worry of ruining another shirt. Your bubblebutt shifted in your tight speedos, the back of your uniform riding up between the huge cheeks and sometimes looking more like a thong. The sheer size of your enormous quads forced your bulge out and in front, your large cock and balls barely contained in the small pouch.

A grin on your face, you threw both of your massive arms above your head and flexed, showing the city just how huge the biggest cop on the force is.

#muscle #musclegrowth #bodybuilder #pecs #Police #Request #Asks #ai images

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toastedjeans · 9 months ago

Text

Full name + driving headcanons bc idk

Peppino Giuseppe Spaghetti. He can't drive a car, BUT he can drive scooters. He only barely got his license after a few tries cause he was really nervous, but eventually he got used to driving. He drives his little Vespa very cautiously since he's a small target on the streets. Parks on the side of the road, trying to take up as little space as possible. (Based on myself, just that i can drive cars but not bikes)

Maurice Spaghetti. His actual given name is Marco but he changed it, and he has no middle name. He drives a pickup truck. Got his license on the first try, but still drives like an asshole, and parks like an even bigger one. We're talking like, taking up three parking spots, with the rear sticking out far enough that it's in the way for other drivers. (Based on my brother LOL)

Gustavo Cannoli (i saw this somewhere before but i don't remember who said it. I love it tho). He's too small for most cars, but can drive short distances on Peppino's Vespa. He doesn't have a license, but nobody suspects anything since he drives very mannerly. Most of the time he just rides on Brick's back.

Scott Spencer Stick. Spencer is his actual first name but he doesn't like it so he decides to go by his middle name instead. Can drive cars, but hates how little space he has for his long legs. Puts his seat almost all the way back. Could probably drive bikes too, but feels too unsafe. Probably drives an SUV. Sometimes parks a little crooked, taking up a bit of space on the parking spot next to his. Doesn't bother correcting it, no matter how long he's gone from the car.

Hugh Mary Burton. Everybody just calls him by his last name. His mom calls him Huey (or used to, before she passed). Too big for most cars and bikes, and can't drive. Hitches rides with Mr. Stick. (It's a really big SUV trust me guys)

Philipp Belle Pepper. Uses Pepperman as an alias / artist name. Drives that cabrio he has in the ending credits since he's too.. shaped.. for any other cars. He isn't exactly reckless, just selfish. Will drive a little too fast or go into the wrong lane when not paying enough attention (due to checking himself out in the rearview mirror). Doesn't have a license. Don't tell Vigilante.

Vigert Irving Cheese (bonus grandpa -> John Ebenezer Cheese). I know people like Lantte as his last name but since his grandpa's last name is Cheese i thought it fit for him as well. He can't drive cars or bikes, so he doesn't have a license. Rides on rats or one of those weenie mounts if the rats are out of order or something.

Theodore J Noise. It's not short for anything, it's literally just a J. He doesn't have a license, but he drives both cars and bikes. Recklessly. If he gets a ticket he bribes the cops cause i mean. He's a celebrity after all. You can't arrest him. He'd bite the cops if they tried. Has a sports car and one of those off road bikes. (Fun fact: my mom calls those bikes "petrol mosquitoes" ("Benzin-Gelse") because of the sound of the motor.)

Bonus Noisey: all the Noisies can drive, and they'll sometimes drive Noise somewhere in a fancy limousine. Mostly when Noise is too tired or just doesn't wanna drive by himself. Or when Noisette forces him, or doesn't want him to drive by himself.

Hazel Belle Jolie aka Noisette. She'd absolutely hate the fact that she shares a middle name with Pepperman if she knew his full name. She has a cute little car, probably a cabriolet. Does have a license but doesn't drive very well. Not necessarily like an asshole, but just. A little stupid. Has definitely caused a few crashes and just drove away like nothing happened. Not because she felt guilty, but because she genuinely didn't even notice anything.

Fakey does not know how to drive anything. He does like watching traffic from afar but he's strangely hesitant to get near cars. Bikes are fine. He prefers running on all fours.

John Benjamin Pillar. He's incapable of fitting into any car and is too heavy for a bike. He doesn't need a car and i feel like he'd hate driving anyway.

Gerome William Pillar. He could drive a smaller car, but he doesn't have one. He prefers taking the bus or subway. Would ride in a taxi, but only if the driver doesn't talk to him / only talks very little.

Peddito doesn't have a car and doesn't need one. I mean, when you can fly everywhere you wouldn't need one either.

Anthony Dorian Solero aka Doise. His actual first name is Diego. Privately goes by Tony, but more often than not he stays in his persona. Does not have a license nor a car or bike, and would drive like a maniac if he did. He doesn't like driving anyway, and just rides around on his skateboard.

Totino Margherita aka Pizzahead. He doesn't have a license and can't drive cars or bikes. But he can pilot mechs and, surprisingly, helicopters. Unsurprisingly though, he doesn't have a pilot's license either. But if he had one, he would've gotten it illegally. Cheater. Has crashed multiple vehicles, and they all exploded, yet he survived every single time. Because cartoon logic.

#toast talk #pizza tower #headcanons #uuuuuugh i don't wanna tag everyone #just. pretend i did okay? cool

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massivedrickhead · 1 year ago

Note

41. "Sleep. I'll keep you safe.”

Oopsie, I got a little serious with this one. Defintely more hurt/comfort than fluff. I don't know if this is good or not, I'm very tired and this took much longer to write than I thought it would.

Trigger warnings: violence, injury, blood, panic attack

Prompt taken from here

Read on AO3

Chloe’s hands were shaking as she gripped the steering wheel, her driving bordering on reckless, as she sped down the highway and towards the hospital.

Theo’s words were still ringing in her ears as she thought of every possible scenario, each one worse than the last.

“Don’t freak out, but there was an incident at Beca’s show.”

Chloe laid on her horn as a car swerved out of its lane in front of her, and she forced herself to slow down.

She’d be no use to Beca if she got herself killed.

“What do you mean an incident?! What happened?!”

“She’s okay, but we’re taking her to the hospital.”

Her heart was hammering so hard in her chest that she thought it might break through her ribs. She’d never been so happy to see the sign for her exit.

When she reached the hospital she parked haphazardly in the first space she saw, and sprinted towards the ER, where she knew Theo was waiting for her.

“You don’t need to come-”

“Don’t even bother finishing that sentence.”

She pushed her way through the crowd of paparazzi that the hospital security was managing to hold back.

By the time they realised who she was Chloe had made it through the double doors and was marching towards Theo.

Their shouts and the flashing of their cameras chased her down the hall.

“Theo!” She said, as soon as he was in sight.

She saw him tense and brace himself.

“Chloe-” he began, his hands held up as if to try and placate her.

“Where is she?”

He sighed and gestured for her to follow him. “She’s getting stitched up. I told you, she’s okay. She’s cracking jokes with the nurses and everything.”

Chloe had to swallow every ounce of anger she had because if she didn’t she would have hit him.

“Don’t tell me she’s okay,” Chloe said. “How the hell could you let this happen?”

“Don’t blame this on me,” he snapped back. “How the hell was I supposed to know some weirdo fan would bring a brick to a meet and greet?”

Chloe stopped walking, a cold wave of nausea sweeping over her. “What?” She asked, her voice now quiet and shaking,

He grimaced and stopped too. “Sorry,” he said. “I hadn’t told you the details yet, had I?”

Chloe felt like she was going to throw up, or pass out, or burst into tears. “Someone hit her with a brick?”

Theo nodded.

“Wha… How?”

“He wrapped it,” Theo said. “Had it in a gift bag. Venue security didn’t question it when he went through the bag check.”

Chloe’s hands were covering her mouth as tears filled her eyes. “He could have killed her,” she said.

“She’s okay,” Theo said. “They did a head CT and it came back clear, it’s just a superficial wound.”

“Please, just take me to her,” Chloe said. Theo nodded and they carried on walking.

Chloe could hear the laughter before she got to the room, and she tried to quickly remove any trace that she’d been crying.

Theo opened the door to the private room Beca had been given, and Beca’s smile grew as she saw Chloe enter.

“Hey,” she said. “You didn’t have to come.”

“Shut up,” Chloe said, any attempt at trying to seem calm out of the window. “Of course I had to come.”

Beca rolled her eyes, which was difficult for her to do while someone was stitching up the gash on her forehead. “Everyone, this is my wife Chloe. Chloe, meet Dr Bauer, who is the head of plastics.” She gestured to the doctor stitching her up. “And this is his intern Dr Larson, who apparently isn’t allowed anywhere near me with a needle.”

“Not on his first week he’s not,” Dr Bauer said. “I’m not having you out there on tour with a messy scar because I let some intern botch your stitches. Nice to meet you, by the way,” he added glancing at Chloe.

Chloe just nodded.

“Here, honey,” a nurse said, who had been sitting at Beca’s other side. She gestured to her spot. “I offered to hold her hand until you got here.”

“This is Nurse Stevens,” Beca said.

“Trish,” the nurse said, shaking Chloe’s hand.

Again, Chloe just smiled politely and took the nurse’s seat. She took hold of Beca’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

She wanted all of these people to leave.

She needed them all to leave.

Because Beca might have seemed calm, but Chloe knew her wife.

Chloe knew when she was On, and Beca was On right now. She was Beca Mitchell the popstar. The Grammy winner. The celebrity.

These people would go home and talk to their friends and family about this. They’d remember it.

And Chloe knew that Beca was doing everything in her power to mask how she was really feeling.

Because Beca had never been good at letting her guard down, and her years in the spotlight had hardened every one of her defences. Had made her an expert at putting on a smile and hiding how she really felt.

But Chloe could see right through them.

She’d always been able to see right through them.

And she knew without a doubt that, right now, Beca was terrified.

They’d been able to read each other like a book for years now, and Chloe could see the fear burning in her eyes. Could feel it in the way that Beca squeezed her hand.

Beca was running on adrenaline, and she was using it all to keep the shake from her voice. To keep the persona up.

She hated Theo for not being able to see it.

He’d told her Beca was okay, but she was far from it.

“Do you know how much longer?” Chloe asked, voicing the question that Beca couldn’t.

“Almost done,” he said.

Chloe ran her thumb back and forth across Beca’s knuckles and gave her hand another light squeeze.

You’re okay, I’ve got you.

“And she can go home after this?”

“Sure,” he said. “Neuro checks came back clear, so once these are done she’ll be good to go.” He looked at his intern. “What does she need to watch out for over the next few days?”

“Uh, headaches that don’t go away with painkillers, vomiting, loss of consciousness, seizures, memory loss, changes in behaviour, vision loss-”

“Kid, I’m not going to remember any of this,” Beca said. “And that’s not because of the head injury.”

“We’ll give you some pamphlets,” he said, blushing slightly. “All the information is in there.”

“Thank you,” Chloe said.

“Okay,” Dr Bauer said, “you are good to go, Ms Mitchell.”

“Thanks so much,” Beca said. “If I ever need a face-lift, I know who I’m coming to.”

“Really, thank you for everything,” Chloe said. She turned to Trish. “Thank you for taking such good care of her.”

“Just doing our jobs,” she said, smiling. “Ms Mitchell, if you want to hop in here, we can get you moving.” She patted the seat of a wheelchair that an orderly had just brought.

“Really guys, I can walk,” Beca said. Chloe could see that her edges were beginning to fray.

“Hospital policy,” Trish said. “Come on, we’ve rolled out the red carpet and everything.”

Beca shrugged and smiled, and got into the wheelchair.

“There’s, um, a few paparazzi at the main entrance,” Chloe said, trying to sound casual. “Is there another exit we can use?”

“We’ll take care of them,” one of Beca’s security guards said.

“I don’t want them following us to my car,” Chloe said, lowering her voice.

“We won’t let anything happen to her, ma’am,” he said.

“Something already happened!” Chloe snapped. “I’m trying to stop it from getting worse!”

“Chloe,” Beca said, “it’s okay. I can handle it.”

But you shouldn’t have to, Chloe wanted to scream.

They reached the hospital entrance and Chloe saw the lights already to begin flashing through the doors. Both Beca’s personal security and hospital security managed to force them back enough to form a gap for Beca, Chloe, and Theo to walk out.

They followed them to the car. Shouting questions, camera bulbs flashing.

“Hey!” Chloe snapped, turning on them. “She has a head injury, can you fucking cool it with the flashing lights?!”

Beca tugged Chloe’s hand and they carried on walking.

The pictures didn’t stop.

“Chloe.”

“I know,” Chloe said, squeezing Beca’s hand as they reached the car. “I know, baby.”

Chloe could hear it in her voice.

She was about to break.

“Keys,” Theo said to Chloe. She tossed them to him without a second thought. “Beca’s security will follow us back and keep watch tonight. I can call an Uber later.”

“Thank you,” Chloe said.

They reached the car and Chloe helped Beca into the back before climbing in beside her. The cameras couldn’t penetrate the blacked-out windows, but that didn’t stop the photographers from trying.

“Fucking cockroaches,” Chloe muttered as Theo pulled out of the parking lot, laying on the horn when they crowded the car.

Chloe waited for Beca to make a joke about her potty mouth that only came out when Chloe was stressed, but it didn’t come.

Beca was finally letting herself feel the panic. The fear.

“You’re okay,” Chloe said, trying not to wince as Beca’s hand tightened around hers. “Just take a breath.”

Her breathing was coming in short sharp gasps, and Chloe knew they were in the beginnings of a panic attack that would likely last the rest of the night.

“Do I need to go back to the hospital?” Theo asked, glancing in the rear-view mirror.

“No,” Beca and Chloe said at the same time,

“I have her,” Chloe said to Theo. She focused her attention on Beca again. “I have you, okay?”

Beca nodded and tried to focus on her breathing.

“I thought I was going to die,” Beca said, between gasping breaths. “Why did he do that?”

“I don’t know, baby,” Chloe said.

The drive home seemed to take forever, but finally, Theo was pulling up to their drive and hitting the button to open the gate.

“Get her inside,” he said. “I’ll sort everything out, out here.”

“Thank you, Theo,” Chloe said.

“Stay home for the next few days,” he said. “It’ll blow over.”

Beca seemed calm again as they got out of the car, and she walked steadily towards the house without looking back.

Chloe followed, her hand resting on Beca’s back.

When the front door was finally shut behind them, Chloe wasted no time in pulling Beca into her arms, letting her own tears fall as she clung to her wife.

“I was so scared,” Chloe said. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

Beca clung back, her eyes squeezed shut as she buried her face into Chloe’s neck.

Her head was hurting badly, the gash on her head stung and throbbed as the local anaesthetic began wearing off, but that all felt small compared to the panic that was growing larger in her chest.

“Can I get you anything?” Chloe asked, unwilling to let her go just yet. “Water, or something to eat?”

“No,” Beca said. “Just… Please just hold me.”

“Okay,” Chloe said, holding her tighter. “I can do that.”

They stood there for a while in the entryway of their home, Beca wrapped protectively in Chloe’s arms until Beca spoke again.

“He looked at me like he hated me,” she said. “What had I done to make him hate me like that?”

“This wasn’t your fault,” Chloe said, finally ending their hug so she could look at Beca.

Her eye was beginning to bruise now, and Chloe thought it might have started swelling too. There was dried blood in her hair and all down the front of her shirt.

“He gift-wrapped it,” Beca said. “He planned it. What if… What if he’d brought a knife? Or a gun?”

“Hey,” Chloe said, cupping Beca’s face with her hands. “Look at me. He can’t get you now, okay? He was arrested, and even if he wasn’t, your security guys are right outside.”

Chloe pressed a kiss to the uninjured side of her head.

“Come on, you need to rest,” Chloe said, taking Beca’s hand and leading her upstairs.

Beca tried to change out of her clothes, but her hands were feeling too clumsy. She couldn’t get them to cooperate enough to un-do the buttons on her shirt, so Chloe took over.

“I don’t feel good,” Beca said, watching as Chloe eased her out of her shirt.

“Do you feel like you need to be sick?” Chloe asked, trying not to panic.

Beca shook her head, which turned out to be a mistake. She winced and squeezed her eyes shut.

“Bec, talk to me,” Chloe said.

“I just feel…” Beca trailed off as she searched for the word. “I keep going from numbness to fear and I just… I don’t feel like myself.” She let out a huff as tears fell quickly. “I want it to stop. I want this day to be done.”

Chloe swallowed the lump in her throat. “I know you do,” Chloe said. “I do too. I wish I could say something that would fix this, but all I can do is promise that I’ll be with you every step of the way through whatever happens next.”

Beca nodded and gave Chloe the first genuine smile she’d had all night. Chloe helped Beca out of the rest of her clothes and into a baggy t-shirt.

“Thanks,” Beca said, climbing into bed.

“Does your head hurt?” Chloe asked, looking for something concrete that she could do to help.

“Yeah,” Beca replied.

“I’ll get you something,” Chloe said.

She grabbed a bottle of water and some painkillers, and while she was downstairs she looked outside.

She could see that the paparazzi seemed to have left, but Beca’s security team was still there, and that made her feel safer.

She double-checked that both the front and back doors were locked before returning to the bedroom.

When Chloe got back, Beca was scrolling on her phone, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

“It’s already on the internet,” Beca said.

Chloe didn’t tell Beca that she already knew. While they’d been waiting for the doctor to finish stitching her head up, Chloe had been fielding texts from the Bellas.

Chloe sat on the bed beside Beca and had to stifle a gasp when she looked at her phone.

It was one thing to hear about it, but quite another to see it in high definition. To see it looped, again and again. The brick connecting with the side of her head. The confusion on her face being quickly replaced by fear and then pain.

“Okay,” Chloe said, taking Beca’s phone from her hand. She closed whatever app had been open and put her phone on the nightstand. “Here, take these.” She handed Beca the pills and the water. Beca did so without complaint. “You need to try and get some rest.”

“I can’t,” Beca said. “Everyone has seen it now. What if they all get the same idea? What if… what if they come here? The press knows where we live, anyone could have followed us home.”

“Shh,” Chloe said, gathering Beca into her arms. “That isn’t going to happen.”

“You don’t know that,” Beca said.

“I know that I’m not going to let anything else happen to you,” Chloe said. “I know that there are men and women outside right now who are here to protect you. And I know that you’re running on adrenaline right now and that sleep feels impossible, but you need to try.”

Chloe knew Beca wasn’t going to lie down and try to sleep willingly, she was too wired for that, so she adjusted their positions until Beca was lying with the uninjured side of her head on Chloe’s chest.

As carefully as she could, Chloe began stroking the hair from her face, making sure not to get anywhere near her stitches.

“Do you want an ice pack or anything for your head?”

“No,” Beca said, her breathing beginning to even out. “Please don’t leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Chloe said. “We’ll call your therapist in the morning to see if she can squeeze you in.”

“She’s probably seen the video,” Beca said.

“Well, then she has all night to figure out what to say to make it better.”

Beca gave a soft laugh.

They stayed in that position for hours, the only sound was the occasional sniffle from Beca. At one point, Chloe asked if she wanted her to turn out the light, but Beca said she’d rather keep it on.

Chloe knew her eyes were fixed on the doorway, waiting for someone to burst through the door and attack her.

“You need to try and sleep,” Chloe said.

Beca gave a grunt in response, and Chloe knew that was all she could manage. All her energy was going into just keeping her eyes open.

“Sleep,” Chloe said again. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

It wasn’t a choice anymore, and Chloe felt Beca’s body finally relax against hers.

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