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seenthroughmia · 2 months ago

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In Your Atmosphere

Chapter Five

Previous Chapter

Content Warning: Language, Alcohol, Joking about sex, Mentions of blood, Attempted sexual assault (not graphic/brief), Catcalling, Death (not graphic/brief), Nightmares

Word Count: 3.4k

Author’s Note: It took me forever to write this between school and work… I’m not 100% happy with it, but I wanted to get something out. We’ve got some girls night with Karen involved, Frankie saving the day, a HINT of fluff, and some angstttttt.

Delilah hadn’t seen Frank in three days. She’d like to think that maybe that meant he was staying out of trouble, but she knew that wasn’t the case. There were too many reports of deaths amongst the city piled up on her desk that had his name written all over them. She hadn’t seen him in three days because it must have meant that he wasn’t hurt enough to need her to help sew him back up.

She felt comfort in the fact that he likely didn’t have any major damage done to him. Having said that, there was a part of her that wished he would show up at her front door.

Everyday of the week, she heard interesting stories. Everyday of the week, she wrote interesting stories. But having Frank, the Big Bad Punisher, in her home gave her a wave of excitement she hadn’t felt since her college day rendezvous’ with a certain blind lawyer.

Everything about it was foolish. She was enthralled by a man that she had just met. A man that she didn’t even know the last name of. A man who was on the FBI’s top most wanted list.

It had gotten to the point that her job; her dream job… felt mundane. Her focus was no longer on that robbery on 34th street, or that building fire, or that heated political race. All that Delilah Lovett could think about was Frank.

So, in typical Delilah fashion she did what she always did when a man was taking over too much of her thoughts— call up a girlfriend and drink until she forgot.

That was how she ended up in a tight little red dress standing across from Karen Page at a very loud and very vibrant nightclub with two shots of rum coursing through her veins.

“This is… different.” Karen looked around the room as she clutched her drink in her hand.

“I just felt like I needed to go somewhere different than Josie’s… Somewhere more lively.” Delilah grabbed the shot glass that sat on the tabletop that divided her and Karen.

“It’s definitely lively.” A small giggle came from the blonde. Her eyes continued to wander, taking in the dozens of people dancing, vibrating speakers, and neon lights.

“Cheers!” Delilah downed the shot before flagging down a server for another one. “So… a little birdie told me that you went on a date with Matt.”

A tinge of pink could be seen creeping onto Karen’s face. “If by little birdie you mean Foggy, yes. Matt and I went on a date.”

“And?”

Karen could only muster out a smile.

“How did it go?” The second shot Delilah had ordered made its way to the table.

Karen took a small sip of her drink. “It went well. We went to this really fancy place Uptown, but then I think we both realized that we were trying too hard to impress each other. We ended up leaving, and going to this cute little Indian restaurant. He walked me home.”

“He walked you home.” A smirk worked its way onto Delilah’s face as she picked up the newly filled shot glass.

“He did.”

“Did you guys… you know…” She paused before turning her smirk into a big toothy grin. “Get to know each other in a biblical sense?”

Karen’s eyes widened with shock. “Delilah!”

“What? Come on, I need to live vicariously through you. My personal life is so boring right now.” She glanced at the glass in her hand before raising it up in the air. “To Karen Page and Matt Murdock!”

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough.” Karen let out a breathy laugh at Delilah’s toast.

“No.” Delilah choked down the liquid that was in the glass before slamming it on the table. “Okay, now I’ve had enough.”

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

She had somehow convinced Karen, who was significantly less hammered than Delilah, that she was capable of getting home by herself. Well, she was sure Karen wasn’t entirely convinced, but a call she received from Matt asking to come over swayed her decision.

Her apartment wasn’t too far from the nightclub they had spent the last hour at, but it wasn’t right around the corner either. This wasn’t her first time walking home alone from a night of drinking, and it wouldn’t be her last.

The walk home wasn’t out of the ordinary. There were people on the streets whose night outings were extending way past hers. There were homeless people lingering around convenience stores. There was nothing for her to be concerned about; until there was.

Delilah had noticed a man rounding the corner of an alleyway as she passed by it about a block back. It was very possible that he could’ve just been on his way to wherever his destination was, but she had now been walking for two more blocks since, testing out different speeds of walking. Each time she switched paces he matched it. Her apartment was nearby, and coming to the conclusion that he was following her she didn’t want him to know where she lived.

“Okay, what do you want?” She turned around to face the man. “Is it my wallet or something because if that’s what you want you can have it.” Her hands started to dig into her purse.

She never claimed it was a smart idea, but with four shots of liquor in her system it was all she could think of to keep the location of her home a secret.

“Why don’t you come back to my place, sweet cheeks?” He started to approach her, closing the distance. “I promise to make it worth your while.”

“So you don’t want the wallet?” Delilah removed her hands from her purse. “Why don’t you turn around and leave me alone, cupcake.”

Mocking a stranger who was following her late at night was probably not the best idea, but her intoxicated state didn’t allow her brain to filter out words before she spoke them.

“Ah, she’s a feisty one.”

She felt a hand wrap around her wrist. The grip he had was strong, so strong that even with her using all of her force to move in the opposite direction he still pulled her into the dark corridor on the side of them.

“This dress is real pretty, but I think it would look much better on the floor.” His hand roamed up to her shoulder to slide the strap of her dress off.

That was enough for Delilah to use her free arm, the one that was holding her purse, to swing the handbag up against the side of his face.

“Bitch!” The hand that was on her shoulder pushed back against her with such force, slamming her into the brick wall in the alley.

A discernible wince came from her as her head took a good bit of the impact against the wall. Distracted by the pain pooled in the back of her head, she didn’t even notice she knife he had pulled out until she felt the cold metal against her collar bone.

“I tried to do this the nice and easy way, but you just had to be difficult, didn’t you?”

Her eyes shut in preparation for the worst, but it never came. The knife falling to the ground. The sound of bones cracking. A loud thud on the concrete. Those were all sounds that surrounded her in the alleyway. She kept her eyes closed until a gruff voice prompted her to open them.

“You wanna tell me what you’re doing out here alone at this hour dressed like that?”

It was Frank, the entire reason she had been out getting plastered in the first place. In front of him was the body of the hooded figure that was holding a knife near her throat seconds prior. His neck? Broken.

Delilah’s eyes focused on the man’s neck for a moment before bringing her attention to Frank. “What are you, my daddy? Did I break my curfew?”

His arms were crossed. He glared at her with such intensity, even more so than when she’d forgotten to lock her apartment door.

“I wasn’t alone. Karen… Well, I was with her.” She started to stumble forward. “But she had to leave to go do the devil’s dance with Matt, if you know what I mean.” A laugh broke free from her mouth, allowing Frank to catch a whiff of the alcohol smell that traveled from her breath.

“For fuck’s sake… How much have you had to drink?”

“Only a little.” She continued her pursuit forward towards Frank. However, she forgot about the body on the floor in front of her. Her foot caught onto the side of the man, sending her headfirst into Frank.

He didn’t wrap his arms around her, but his firm chest stopped her from going anywhere.

“Oops.” She blurted out, staying pressed against him. “Frank?”

“What?”

“Do you think he’s dead?”

“He ain’t breathin, ain’t he?”

Delilah looked back down at the body on the ground. It was then that Frank noticed a portion of her copper red hair had turned a crimson color.

“You’re bleeding.” He said pulling her away from him and directing her around the body. “The back of your head.”

“I am?” Her hands moved to touch her hair. When she brought them back in front of her they were covered in red. “It must’ve happened when he pushed me against the brick…” The adrenaline had kicked in once Frank had arrived, temporarily making her forget about her run in with the wall.

“Needs to be cleaned up.” Frank started walking towards the sidewalk. He turned around when he didn’t hear her heels clicking on the ground. “You gonna just stand there or what?”

She still didn’t move. “What about…” she pointed to the ground.

“I’ll take care of it later.”

Delilah made a shrugging gesture and started to move towards Frank. “Do I want to know what that means?”

“No.”

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

For the third time in the last week, Frank and Delilah had sat on the carpet in her living room with a first aid kit in reach. Only this time, it wasn’t Delilah patching up Frank. It was Frank patching up Delilah.

“What were you doing in that alleyway, anyway?”

“I was in the neighborhood.” Frank parted her hair to get a better look at the source of the bleeding.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You were in the neighborhood?”

“Yep.”

“You wanna know what I think?”

“No-“

“I think you were stalking me.” She felt a cold sharp sting on the back of her head. “Owww! Jesus, what are you doing?”

He held a blood stained cotton ball in front of her face.

“How bad is it?”

“Not bad. Doesn’t need stitches or anything.” Frank grabbed a bottle of diluted hydrogen peroxide from the first aid kit. “Just needs to be cleaned real good.”

Her face contorted in discomfort when the chemical compound collided with the gash on the back of her head, leaving her to deal with a burning sensation.

“Good thing you don’t need stitches.”

“Why?”

“You wouldn’t be able to handle it.” Frank retorted back at her question.

“I most definitely could handle it!” She felt the peroxide soaked cotton ball press against her skin again. “Oww!”

He looked at her with an amused expression. It was an expression that said ‘thank you for proving my point.’

Delilah made a pout with her lips. “I liked it better when you were the one that needed fixing up.”

Her eyes scanned him for a brief moment. She didn’t believe what he said earlier; that he was just in the neighborhood. She could have believed that maybe he was in the area if he were wounded, but she couldn’t find any new marks on him.

“Are you…”

He made note of her eyes studying him. “No. I’m fine.”

“That’s good.” She nodded as she contemplated her next question. “You’re not hurt, so are you still sticking with your statement that you were just in the neighborhood?”

“Nothing gets past you, does it?” Frank looked towards a black duffle bag to the side of him. “Truth is, I was coming to give you something.” He stood up, grabbing the bag from the floor and throwing it onto the coffee table.

“You got me a gift?”

This was unexpected. She had only known him a few days, but she didn’t peg him as the gift-giving type. Her mind wondered what he could’ve gotten her. Her curiosity was settled when he pulled out a worn out yellow hardcover book.

“Uh, thought I would help expand your collection.”

He handed her the book.

Dracula.

“Thank you.” She looked at the book for a moment before moving to her feet.

Frank gave her a small nod.

“Is it even worth asking if you want to stay?” Delilah motioned her head towards the plush couch that they were leaning against moments earlier.

Frank was conflicted. He was exhausted, practically running on empty. He didn’t sleep much these days, relying on exuberant amounts of black coffee to keep him going. Right now that couch looked like the most comfortable thing he had ever seen. In spite of that, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was already in too deep with her.

“If you feel like you’re inconveniencing me, you’re not. I mean it.” The sincerity in her words shined through loud and clear.

Fuck it, he thought. He would fall asleep for a few hours, slip out before she even woke up, and that would be the end of it.

“Your pillows soft or firm?”

The question had garnered a laugh from Delilah. It prompted her to turn on her heels in the direction of her bedroom. She disappeared out of his view for a moment, but her footsteps were still able to be heard. When she reappeared she was clutching a pillow under one arm and a blanket in another.

“I prefer a stiffer pillow, so if that’s also your preference you’re in luck.” She dropped both of them on the couch.

Truth be told, Frank didn’t really care what type of pillow he was given. He had slept on cots in the desert, on the ground, and on a lone mattress with no bed frame or box.

“If you want anything from the kitchen feel free to take whatever. The only way to get to the bathroom is through my room, so I’ll just leave my door open.” Delilah thought about if there was anything she was missing. “The TV remote is right there, and you’ve already explored my bookshelf.”

Frank sat down on the couch and started to situate the firm pillow she had brought him against the left arm of the sofa. “Thank you.”

“Maybe you could give Twilight another shot while you have it at your disposal.”

“I’ll have to think about it.” He had shot her the same words that she said to him the last night he was there when he suggested she try Dracula.

A light scoff came from Delilah’s body. “Good night, Frank.”

“Good night.”

Delilah wandered into her bedroom, while Frank started to adjust his body onto the couch. The couch was small, making him unable to completely outstretch on it while laying. It wasn’t the most ideal place for him to sleep, but that wasn’t his biggest worry. Exhaustion had no longer been on the forefront of his mind. When Delilah left the room the gravity of what he had done set in. He had slipped up and gotten too close. It wasn’t something he could do again.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

A bloodcurdling scream filled the apartment, causing Delilah to shoot up from her bed. Any ounce of sleepiness she had was completely gone. She quickly grabbed her phone and ran into the living room where she had last left Frank.

The screams she had heard were coming from him, face up on the couch gripping the edges of the cushions tightly.

“Frank.” She called out to him as she rushed over to his side.

He was still bellowing out even after she had called his name.

“Frank…” Her hand reached to cover the one closest to her, but his grip never left the sofa. “Shh, it’s okay, Frank. It’s just a bad dream. You’re safe.”

Frank felt the touch of her small hand covering his. His eyes zigzagged around the room to check his surroundings. When he saw strands of her fiery copper hair reflecting in the little light the room had his screams lessened to heavy pants.

Delilah had learned a bit about his life as a Marine the last time she had stitched him up. She didn’t have much experience with people in the line of duty, but she thought PTSD was probably a common occurrence amongst members who served their time fighting wars like he did.

“Where did you go just now?” She asked quietly, not removing her hand from on top of his. Her free hand moved to caress the top of his head. He was sweating profusely and his body felt like a furnace. “Kandahar? Were you dreaming about Kandahar?”

“The carousel…” Frank mumbled out.

“The carousel? What carousel? Is that some sort of military code phrase?”

“In the park…” His eyes were focused on the ceiling. There was a sadness to them, one that Delilah had never seen before from him. It was almost as if he was fighting something internally.

“Frank… I’m not sure what you’re talking about… What park? Central Park?”

His hand flipped over resulting in his palm depositing right up against hers. “Maria…Lisa… Fr-Frank Jr.” The thing he was fighting inside of him were tears. They were threatening to leak through and Delilah could see it.

For the first time in her life, Delilah Lovett was speechless. The man that she had invited to stay on her couch was currently in a state of distress that she didn’t know how to ease. She had so many questions. While her natural predisposition was to ask as many as she could til she got to the bottom of things, she realized that it wouldn’t amount to a fix for the problem; at least for his sake.

The daze that Frank was in had suddenly broken when his brain had completely caught up to the fact that he was in the apartment he had spent three days in during the last week. Delilah had taken notice of this as well when he abruptly shunned away her hands that were placed on his body. The speed at which he discarded the contact surged her crouching frame back towards the floor.

“Shit.” He mumbled at a barely audible tone. He placed both of his hands onto his head, rubbing his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“What did it mean?”

Frank was silent.

“The carousel. The park. Those people.”

“Go back to bed, Delilah.”

“Frank, what does it mean?”

“Damn it, Delilah, I said go back to bed!” He sat up when he spoke this time. The sadness in his eyes had now been taken over by darkness.

If looks could kill, she could’ve sworn she would be six feet under in a grave right now. She started to use her hands to move backwards in a crawling motion. The coffee table stopped her momentum, thwacking her in the back. A small groan came from her lips as she sheepishly stood up and retreated back into her bedroom, opting to close the store instead of leaving it open like she had previously.

Frank didn’t mean to do it, but he knew that he did; he had frightened her. For the first time in all of their encounters she was scared of him. He had acted like an asshole. He was an asshole, he thought to himself. Maybe, it was better that way. It was the opportunity he needed to distance himself.

He couldn’t in good faith stay on Delilah’s couch any longer. He left the pillow where it was on the couch, but folded up the blanket neatly. He put on his boots, tied them up, and made sure to grab his duffle bag off of the table. He headed for the door, locking it from the inside, as he thought about the night's events.

#frank castle #daredevil #the punisher #frank castle fanfiction #marvel #frank castle x oc

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seenthroughmia · 2 months ago

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You ever see the still shots of Frank man spreading? I'm torn between getting in my knees in that opening that seems to be inviting me or Frank manhandling me to fuck me on his big ole thigh

HONESTLY we’ve been so blessed with shots of him manspreading between the og daredevil, the punisher, and ddba… but there’s something about the one from episode 4 of ddba where he’s all disheveled and on the brink of snapping.

Both good options BUT I feel like Frank would go FERAL seeing you using him and coming undone on his thigh 🥵

#frank castle #daredevil #the punisher #daredevil born again #frank castle fanfiction #marvel #frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #ddba

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seenthroughmia · 2 months ago

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MY POOR BABY FRANKIE IS IN A CAGE

GOD FRANK IS KINDA FUCKING HOT IN A CAGE

HARD AGREE 🥵

Frankies don’t belong in cages, but it did get me thinking… Those restraints… What if you brought up wanting to tie him up? I feel like he wouldn’t enjoy it, but he would indulge you just ONCE. It would 1000% end up in him sweet talking his way out of it though (just like he did with that cageeeee) and then you’d be the one tied up 🤪

May write this lmfaoooooo

#frank castle #daredevil #the punisher #frank castle fanfiction #daredevil born again #marvel #frank castle x reader #frank castle smut

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seenthroughmia · 2 months ago

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someone send me some frank thots ™️ (it can be head canon stuff, prompts, thirsty comments, literally anything). i am depressed and i think that putting off all of my responsibilities and writing will totally help 🌚

#frank castle #daredevil #the punisher #frank castle fanfiction #marvel #daredevil born again #frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #ddba

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seenthroughmia · 2 months ago

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the only thing i wanted more than kastle in the ddba season finale was for officer powell to die lmfaoooo

#frank castle #daredevil #the punisher #marvel #daredevil born again #ddba #kastle

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seenthroughmia · 2 months ago

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if they still put karen with matt after all of this… i swear coming back wasn’t even worth it 😭

#frank castle #daredevil #the punisher #daredevil born again #karen page #matt murdock #kastle #please marvel do right by us for once give us kastle

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seenthroughmia · 2 months ago

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do you think matt murdock is a whore

unequivocally

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seenthroughmia · 2 months ago

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Masterlist

Last updated on April 21st, 2025

Currently only writing for Frank Castle (Marvel), but I would eventually like to write for Poe Dameron (Star Wars), Aemond Targaryen (House of the Dragon), Joel Miller (The Last of Us), Rafael Barba (Law and Order: SVU), and other miscellaneous Marvel characters.

My inbox is open for head canons and other thoughts about Frank, or really any of the characters listed above.

Frank Castle

Series:

In Your Atmosphere

Summary: New York Bulletin reporter Delilah Lovett wants to be the first to publish the identity of the most wanted man in the city, The Punisher. A chance encounter on a roof changes everything for them both.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six (in progress)

One Shots:

An Impossible Decision

Summary: The death of Frank Castle was something you couldn’t get out of your head. It becomes completely unescapable after you find out you’re pregnant with his child several weeks after the explosion that took his life.

#masterlist #frank castle #daredevil #the punisher #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x oc #marvel #frank castle smut #frank castle x reader

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seenthroughmia · 2 months ago

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*not my gif*

An Impossible Decision

Frank Castle x Reader

Content Warning: Language, Mentions of death (he’s not really dead, but you know), Mentions of blood and wounds, Pregnancy, Thoughts of abortion, Mentions of cheating, Mentions of abuse, Fingering, P in V sex, Unprotected sex (wrap it up plz), Frank does not pull out

Word Count: 3.3k

Author’s Note: THINGS IN BOLD ARE FLASHBACKS. NORMAL TEXT IS PRESENT DAY. This was my first time ever writing smut, and it was an interesting experience… I read it all day every day, but it felt so damn awkward to write! Anyway, I got through it. I’m thinking about maybe writing a part two/three to this where the outcomes are different based on the reader’s decision with how they would like to deal with the pregnancy.

It had been six weeks since the explosion at the pier. Six weeks since flames took the lives of dozens of people. Six weeks since you had seen Frank Castle.

He had died in the explosion, just like everyone else who had been onboard. That’s what the papers were saying. That’s what your friends were saying. It was hard for you to wrap your head around a man like Frank going out that way. You had always imagined the day he died was going to be at the hands of another man with a weapon; or from complications of the aftermath of said weapon. It was how you met after all, when all of this first started.

The night that he had dug meathooks into the backs of the Mexican Cartel was the night that he had taken up residence on your fire escape. He nearly scared you half to death when you opened the bedroom window to try and get better air circulation throughout the small room. The AC unit in your building had always been subpar at best.

When you first laid eyes on him he was bleeding profusely from a gash on the side of his head. Your initial shock of seeing a strange man stationed outside of your window had now been taken over with the oath that you had taken the day you had become licensed as a paramedic. The oath to preserve life. It was a principle that was ingrained into your brain, something you took with you everyday.

“Can I call anyone for you?” You asked him as you finished wiping the blood off of his face with a warm washcloth. He had mentioned he didn’t want any cops or to go to any hospitals, but he hadn’t mentioned anything about family. “Family? Friends?”

He shook his head. “No. I don’t got anyone, ma’am. Not anymore.”

You took a deep breath before placing the formerly white rag down on the wrought iron structure you knelt on. “Look… I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into, but given the fact that you’ve got cuts and bruises all over I’m willing to bet it’s been going on for a while.”

You turned toward your still open window, halfway getting up to grab a piece of paper and pen out of the nightstand drawer inside.

“If this happens again you can come to me.” You scribbled quickly onto the paper and extended a hand out towards him.

He glanced down at the sheet and scanned its contents. You had written down your name and phone number along with the words ‘should you need me.’ He then pocketed the note before starting to stand. You followed his motion.

“Thank you.” He spoke quietly. It was a tone that felt uncomfortable; not for you, but for him. You couldn’t exactly put your finger on a reason. Before you could think of a possible one, he began to head down the fire escape.

“Wait!” You called out.

He stopped.

“I never got your name.”

He was silent for a moment. “It’s Frank.”

“Have a good night, Frank.”

And with that he was on his way.

Frank showed up again on the fire escape the next night. And the next… and the next… and the one after that…

It didn’t take you long to find out about the activities he was involved in, the ones that kept him coming back to your fire escape to be mended night after night. Nor did it take you long to find out why he went out every night and did what he did… How one unassuming day in the park changed his life forever. Your heart broke for him. You couldn’t imagine coming home from a war, and then immediately having everything you’ve ever loved taken from you.

You didn’t necessarily agree with how he chose to deal with the loss of his family, but you understood it.

“That’s why I do what I do.”

You were brought out of your thoughts when you felt a hand touch your shoulder.

“Are you alright?” Matt’s voice was coated with a hint of concern.

An awkward laugh escaped your lips before looking down at his hand. “Yeah, sorry. I kind of zoned out there.”

You had known Matt since the early days of his now defunct law firm. The two of you struck up a friendship after he questioned you to corroborate on the state of a client he had taken on for the trial. You found out about his nighttime activities around the same time Frank started to come around.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” He removed his hand from your shoulder, placing it back by his side.

“No, what’s up?”

“How far along are you?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

“I hear two heartbeats.” He paused, focusing even more on the sound. “You’re pregnant.”

“Matt, I’m not pregnant.” You weren’t pregnant. You couldn’t be. There was absolutely no way. Right?

“I know what I hear… and what I hear is two heartbeats.”

“Maybe you’re wrong. Maybe you’re hearing something else.”

“I’m not wrong. It’s coming from your-“

You cut him off before he could finish his sentence. “This time you’re wrong.” Your voice was slightly raised and your frustration was evident. “I’m sorry… I have to go.” Suddenly none of what you and Matt had met up for was of any importance. A trip to the corner store on the block of your apartment building was now your highest priority.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Getting to the corner store and home was all one big blur. Your brain was racing with any and all possible outcomes of this predicament you were currently in. It was so loud inside of your head that you didn’t even flinch at the coldness of the tile as you sunk down onto the floor of your bathroom while you waited three minutes for the results.

The first thing that Frank noticed when he stepped into your apartment was your eyes. Their usual bright and wide state was replaced with wet streaks and puffiness.

“Did somebody hurt you?” His voice was low and rough as he scanned your body for injury.

A tear dropped from your eyes as you nodded your head yes. Frank started to reach for his gun, but the chuckle you gave when you saw his hand stopped his movements.

“Somebody hurt me, but not like that.”

Relief flooded over Frank after you ruled out the worst possible scenario that he thought of. His hand started to withdraw from the holster on his hip before taking in your tear stained face yet again. “You wanna talk about it?”

“I’ve just had a bad week. I got called to a scene where some really messed up stuff had happened to a couple of kids, and uh, it’s been stuck in my mind.” You sat down on your bed and let out a huff. “I kind of started seeing someone that I work with. All that I wanted tonight was to take refuge on his couch with a stupid comedy movie and a box of pizza. I guess he forgot that I was coming over because when I walked in he was banging Emma from HR.”

“Fuck.” He said as he inched closer to your bed. It was like he was waiting for permission to sit down. You granted it to him by gesturing to the spot next to you.

“Yeah.” You brought both hands up to your face to wipe away the residue that your tears had left. “I’m convinced there must be something wrong with me at this point.”

Frank’s eyes locked with yours before his head gave out a tiny nod. “Nah. Nothing wrong with you. That guy’s just an idiot.”

You weren’t sure what had possessed you to lean forward. Your movements were slow, coming to a halt when your face hovered centimeters away from his. Your right hand found its way to his chest. You had expected him to move backwards, but when he didn’t you continued to lean in further until the distance between you had been closed. His lips were soft. They didn’t move at first, but eventually they formed gentle movements as he tested this uncharted territory with you for the first time. One of his hands cupped the side of your face while the other rested on your waist.

Frank broke the union between your lips, but his hand still held onto the side of your face. “You sure you want this?”

“Yes, Frank. I want this. I want you.”

That was enough for him to bring his lips back to yours, pushing you down towards the bed in the process so that you were laying face to face with each other. His hand that was previously on your waist was now trailing lower towards the center of your pajama shorts you were wearing.

He took notice of the wet spot seeping through cloth. “Shit, sweetheart. You’re soaked.”

“Frank, I need you.”

“What do you need? Use your words.”

“Need your fingers inside of me. Now.”

He listened to your plea as if the world was ending and you only had a few minutes left alive. A hand immediately pulled down the tiny shorts you had on revealing your glistening dampened folds. His index finger drug down from the top of your pubic bone to your opening. A moan escaped from your lips as the tip of his finger brushed over your clit.

Frank spent a moment rubbing his fingers up and down your slit getting them covered in the juices that were dripping from it. When he was satisfied with the slickness he slowly pressed two of his thick digits inside of your walls.

Your back arched off of the bed, pushing your hips towards him in an attempt to feel him even deeper inside of you. This notion made him establish a consistency in which he plunged his middle and pointer fingers into you.

The tips of his fingers found the sensitive spot, making it hard for you to keep still. He placed his free hand on your lower belly to hold you down. This just intensified the pleasure you felt as his fingers curled against the spot.

“Fuck, Fr…Frank. I’m gonna—“ Your sentence trailed off when he lowered his forehead down to be flushed against yours.

“You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” Knowing you were close, Frank picked up the pace of which his index and middle fingers infiltrated your opening. You took notice of this change of speed as a loud moan was forced out of your mouth, insides clenched tighter every time his fingers hit the soft spongy spot that made you squirm in delight.

Your eyes screwed shut, starting to mumble a string of expletives. Frank didn’t take too kindly to the sudden loss of eye contact. He wanted to see the look in your eyes as he made you come undone around his fingers for the first time.

“Look at me.” Frank whispered barely an inch or two away from your face. His forehead remained tightly pressed to yours.

You obeyed his orders and reestablished the contact between yourselves. His fingers continued their quick speed while his thumb ran circles over your clit, inching you closer and closer to the edge. Your hands reached up to grab his biceps as he took you through your release.

Your breath was heavy as Frank removed his fingers from inside of you. The loss of contact made you let out a small whine, but he planted a kiss onto your lips which hushed you temporarily.

He relinquished his position hovering on top of you and instead shifted to lay beside you once more. You could see the outline of his hardened member through his grey boxers. Instinctively, your hand moved to tug at the fabric. He let you as he too wished to get rid of the one thing separating you from seeing him in all of his entirety.

Frank Castle was a large man, and you’d be lying if you said you expected any less than that when it came to his manhood. Your assumptions were confirmed when you freed him of his boxers and admired what he was packing.

One of your hands reached down to grip him, barely able to wrap your small hand around him completely. He jutted his hips at the touch. Hands still wrapped around him, you pushed your body up to position your face to level with it, but a hand on your wrist stopped you.

“Nuh uh, baby girl.” Frank said as he continued to hold your wrist. “This is about you.”

You frowned at his statement, wanting to see how he tasted. “But I want to make you feel good.”

“I know you do. You will.” He removed his hand from your wrist and brought it up to grab your chin. He planted a kiss on your lips before whispering “Lay down, baby.”

You did as he told you to, releasing your grip on his length. He lazily started pumping his cock as he positioned himself in front of you, spreading your legs in the process. Your folds were still gloriously coated in the juices of your first orgasm, a tool that he used to prep himself by rubbing the head of his cock up and down your cunt.

“Frank, please.” You cried out.

“Please, what?”

“Please fuck me.”

With those words, he thrusted himself completely inside you. A groan left his lips as he started to become accustomed to your tightness surrounding him. While he was getting familiar with the feeling of being inside you, you were adjusting to how it felt to be filled by him. The feeling was like you were finally complete and utterly whole.

He didn’t move at first. His eyes gazed into yours searching for any signs of hesitation. When he didn’t find anything he started moving slowly. It had been so long since Frank had a moment of intimacy with anyone. The desperation and primal desire soon kicked in, trading in his slow pace for a more moderate one.

“So fuckin’ perfect.” He said as his eyes trailed over your body focusing in on your breasts that slowly bounced with each thrust.

You sucked your bottom lip in between your teeth as you looked up at him, and studied the look on his face. His lips were parted ever so slightly. Light grunts could be heard falling from them. It was a sight you wished you could see forever.

“Frankie, you feel so good.”

“Yeah? You like having your pussy filled by my cock?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but his hand once again made its way down to your clit. Rendering you only to be able to mewl a long drawn out sigh.

“So needy for me, you can’t even speak.” Frank’s thrusts started getting faster and harder. His hand was still rubbing circles on your sensitive bud as he pounded into you. He could feel you clenching around him, similarly to when you came on his fingers earlier. “You gonna cum for me again?”

You still couldn’t find your words, so you shook your head ‘yes’ fervently. Frank’s circles on your clit started becoming more rapid as he repeatedly uttered out how good you were taking him. The praise being the thing that pushed you over the edge to your second orgasm.

“Mmmm, Frank!”

“That’s it, baby. I’m right behind you.”

He continued his assault on your clit, causing you to clench even tighter around him. You could tell by the way his face scrunched that he was close to his high. You reached a hand up to touch the side of his face. He leaned into your hand while letting out a deep moan of his own. His thrusts got sloppy as he started to spill his seed inside of you, tapering off until he was at a standstill.

Frank pulled himself out of you, crashing on the side of you on the bed. Both of your chests were rising and falling fast, spent from events that had just occurred.

It was a line that neither of you ever intended to cross, but tonight you did. It was something you would never be able to come back from. You weren’t quite sure if it was for better or for worse.

He leaned over to press a kiss onto your forehead before pulling you in tightly and engulfing you in his arms.

The sound of the radial default alarm on your phone had brought you back to reality. You were terrified to look at the three little sticks that laid in a row on your counter, but sitting on the floor wouldn’t do anything to fix the situation so you pulled yourself up. The best case scenario was that Matt had heard wrong and you wasted $25 on a box of pregnancy tests that would all read negative. The worst case scenario was that he had heard right and all of the tests read…

Positive. Positive. Positive.

“Damn it, Frank.” You immediately sunk back down to the floor. The frigid temperature of the tile hitting you this time around.

Your first thoughts were that maybe this box was faulty. Maybe something had gone wrong and that led to it showing up as a false positive. Then you were faced with the likelihood of the entire box AND Matt’s weird super hearing both being wrong. It was then that everything had set in and the tears started rushing from your eyes.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. You weren’t even really sure you wanted a child. You were pretty confident that if Frank were still here he wouldn’t want one either. Not after everything he had been through. But you wouldn’t know what he would want because he wasn’t here. You were left to deal with it by yourself..

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

The days that passed after you had taken the test were some of the hardest days of your life. Your doctor had confirmed Matt’s suspicions and the two thin lines on the tests. You had never felt more alone than you had at this point in your life. You had been avoiding your friends, especially Matt, because you had no idea what you were going to say if you were asked who the father was. You could lie, but he would know. What were you to say? That you were carrying the offspring of the man who had made his life so troublesome some months ago?

He didn’t know the extent of your relationship with Frank, just that you had cared for him on some level.

Your inability to talk about the situation with your friends was what led you to the office of a psychologist that was listed on the board of flyers outside of the HR department at work.

“My doctor had told me congratulations after she did the ultrasound. I could’ve sworn I went deaf for a few minutes because I can’t remember hearing anything after that until I left the building.” Your head dropped down towards the floor as you waited for the woman you had just met 20 minutes ago and had spilled your guts to give a response.

She had a notepad and pen in her hand. “You don’t seem very happy with the news. Have you thought about what you’d like to do?”

“See, that’s the issue. You know I never really wanted kids. Being a mother just wasn’t something I was ever interested in.” You lifted your head back up slightly, but instead of looking at the floor your eyes shifted to your hands.

“But?”

You finally looked her in the eyes. “But the man that is the father is dead, and I can’t help but think about how this is the last part of him that’s left.”

“That is a lot. It sounds like you’re battling with two sides of yourself. Do you believe you have a responsibility to carry on the father’s legacy in the world?”

Was that what you were feeling? The need to carry on Frank’s legacy? It was a question that would continue to haunt you over the coming days.

#frank castle #daredevil #the punisher #frank castle fanfiction #marvel #frank castle x reader #frank castle smut

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seenthroughmia · 2 months ago

Text

In Your Atmosphere

Chapter Four

Previous Chapter

Content Warning: Language, Mentions of blood and wounds, Mentions of war

Word Count: 2.1k

Author’s Note: Ahhh, I love writing their banter. I think Frank paired with a sassy little brat is my favorite dynamic for him, lol.

Delilah’s desk was littered with sticky notes containing ideas for potential stories. The most pressing however wasn’t any of the ones that were written out in front of her; it was the one that played out in her head. Her day was spent dwelling on the events that occurred last night on the roof of her apartment. The discovery of an injured man. Patching said man up. Coming up with the conclusion that he was ‘The Punisher.’

The Punisher.

Those were the two words she couldn’t step two feet without hearing at the Bulletin. She knew who he was while everyone else was scrambling to find him.

She knew who he was. Why hasn’t she written about it?

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Her neighbor across the hall, sweet old Ruth, had caught her as she was unlocking the door to her apartment. Her cat, Gertie, was in desperate need of a nail trim and Ruth couldn’t hold her down and use the clippers at the same time.

Delilah immediately agreed to help as she thought of the few times that Ruth had brought her baked goods. She chucked her bag into her apartment before heading across the hall to be of service to Ruth.

Gertie was less than cooperative in the mission to clip her nails. Delilah had to chase her into the bathroom to even get close to her once she spotted the clippers in hand. She did eventually get the job done, bidding Ruth and Gertie (who was hiding under a chair) farewell as she headed back to her apartment.

“Thought I told you to lock your door.”

The unexpected voice startled Delilah, causing her to jump. Her breathing picked up as the realization that someone was in her apartment kicked in. She turned around to see the man she had patched up the night before sitting on her red velvet couch remote in hand, flipping through the various channels on her television.

“Jesus, Frank!” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in an attempt to slow her breathing. “You nearly scared me half to death.”

“Yeah, well I guess you’re lucky it’s just me then and not somebody that’d do more than just scare you.” Frank dropped the remote down next to him on the couch before crossing his arms over his chest.

Delilah still hadn’t moved from her position at the door. His comment made her eyes roll. “I stepped out for literally ten minutes to help Ruth clip her cat Gertie’s nails.”

“Really? Cause I’ve been sitting here for about thirty.”

Had she really been gone that long? Her gaze skipped to the clock that hung over her television. He was right, she had been gone for forty-seven minutes to be exact. However, that was the least of her concerns.

“Not that I mind coming home to two hundred pounds of muscle lounging on my couch, but why are you here?” Her head cocked to the side as she eyed him on the couch.

Frank’s head shook ever so slightly to give out a disapproving nod at the first part of Delilah’s last sentence. “Was hoping I could trouble you for that first aid kit.” He lifted up the bottom left corner of his shirt to reveal the wound she had stitched up the previous night to be completely busted.

“And here I was thinking you came back because you thought I was pretty, but I guess I just have stellar bedside manners.” A smirk formed on her face while she started to walk towards the couch. The first aid kit was still in the living room from the previous night. She dropped to her knees once she reached his left side gesturing for him to get on her level. “You’ve already ruined my carpet. I’d rather not add my couch to that list, too.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His tone was humorous, almost playful as he pushed himself off of her couch and onto the floor. Frank didn’t think he had ever met a woman as unapologetically assertive as the one that was in front of him.

“I heard you made quite a mess of the Mexican cartel. By chance, is that how you ruined my beautifully crafted sutures I gave you just last night?”

“How’d you hear that?”

She lifted the corner of his shirt and examined the damage that had been done. The stitches had popped, every single last one of them. She reached to grab the first aid kit off of the coffee table before opening it and grabbing an antiseptic wipe.

“A source…” Her hands moved to swipe the wipe over the mixture of fresh and dried blood around the gash. “A source who wants to know why I haven’t written a word about the most sought after person in New York City.”

Frank took in a deep breath as Delilah continued to swab the cold cloth over the tender area. He released it slowly before inquiring about the question that had been on his mind all day. “Why haven’t you?”

Why haven’t you? Little did he know, that was the question that had been on her mind all day, too. Her dedication and drive had always been her defining trait. It was the reason she had advanced into her position as a reporter much faster than others in her graduating class. She had the story of a lifetime sitting in her living room for the second night in a row. Why hasn’t she written about him?

She discarded the now rust colored wipe and reached again for the box of medical supplies. “Maybe, I believe in what you do.”

“What I do?” He raised an eyebrow at the statement wondering what it was that she thought he did.

“You’ve gotten rid of three of the worst groups of shitbags that have polluted the city.” Delilah started to fumble with what was the trickiest part for her of giving stitches; threading the needle. “I’d be lying if I said the streets didn’t feel safer with them gone.”

“Safer, huh? You don’t even lock your front door.” The low gravelly pitch of his voice combined with what felt like patronizing words struck a chord with her.

She held the needle up, pointing it directly at him. “I swear to god, if I hear one more word about that stupid door I will make stitching you up the most slow and painful sensation you’ve ever felt in your life.”

Frank’s hands raised up as a gesture of surrender, even though he had no intent of that being the last time he mentioned the door.

Delilah lowered the needle down towards the freshly cleaned laceration. Her left hand laid gently on his side while her right pierced his skin with the stainless steel which gained her a slight twitch and a soft grunt from him.

As she finished the first seam, her eyes fluttered towards a scar that was maybe two or three inches away from the spot she was tending to. It had long been healed, by a few years probably if she had to guess. Her left hand drifted up to trace it.

“Where’d you get this one?”

He didn’t answer right away, but finally said “Afghanistan.”

“A military man… What branch?”

“Marine.”

“Is that where you learned how to take out an entire gang all by yourself?”

She was no longer looking at his stomach but was now studying his face. A certain look occupied his it— like he had been caught. He should’ve known she was bound to ask questions at some point. It was what she did for a living after all.

“My last tour in Afghanistan I was stationed in Kandahar. Someone had leaked the location of a high ranking terrorist leader to the Chief Special Agent. It was uh, it was an ambush.” Frank’s lips tightened into a thin line. “The Colonel got his arm blown off. My boys were getting shot left and right. Had to do something.”

“So that’s how you—“

“That’s how I got that scar.”

Truthfully, he didn’t need to tell the entire story of how that night in Kandahar ended. The crimes committed by the man had been continuously described as professional grade. His military experience only added another layer of insight to that fact.

“So you go from fighting wars in South-Central Asia, to taking down gangs in New York. I’ve got a gut feeling that those hits weren’t sanctioned by the US government… Why?”

Frank had already opened up to her more than he ever planned to. She knew who he was. She knew what he did. She now knew how he was able to do those things. The why was too much.

“Look, why don’t you focus on finishing those stitches instead of yapping my damn ear off?” His voice was always rough, but right now it was harsher than usual, tipping Delilah off on the fact that he was done talking about the subject.

“Fine.” She muttered as she locked in on repairing his skin.

The time it took her to finish this go around once she fully focused on the task was significantly quicker than the night before. Every once in a while her eyes would skirt over to other parts of his exposed skin, eyes surveying the other marks that called his body home. She longed to know what he had gotten himself into, what he wasn’t telling her.

Delilah’s left hand reached for the scissors in the first aid kit, cutting the nylon thread effectively holding together his skin.

“Alright, you’re all done.”

Frank examined the work she did on him. It wasn’t the prettiest job to be done by a long shot, but that was to be expected when you learned medicine from Dr. Meredith Grey in front of a screen.

“Thank you.” He spoke low, at a volume a little louder than a whisper.

“You’re welcome.”

He continued to sit as he watched her pack the needle and thread into the metal box. Once she closed it her body shifted to match his position with her back flushed against the sofa. It was then that her entire body went still.

“I haven’t read Twilight in 2 years.” Her eyes were fixed on the iconic cover showcasing Edward’s hands caressing the apple that sat in front of her on the table. A gasp slipped from her mouth. “Were you reading Twilight while I was out clipping Gertie’s nails?”

“It was either that or something about journalism, and I ain’t planning on writing an article any time soon.” He leaned forward and grabbed the book from the table.

“What did you expect, I’m a reporter not a librarian.”

“You’re right. If you were a librarian your taste in books wouldn’t suck.” Frank started to flip through the pages of the novel. “If vampires are your thing you should trade Stephenie Meyer in for Bram Stoker.”

“I’ll have to think about it.” The corners of her mouth turned up towards her ears. She grabbed the book out of his hand and placed it back in front of them on the wooden surface.

Delilah noticed he gave her a half smile back as he glanced at the book one last time. The entire exchange made her body quiver. She could sense that it was fleeting. It was foolish, but something inside of her didn’t want the moment to end.

“I know you turned down my offer last night, but it still stands. I can grab you a pillow and blanket for the couch.” It was her only attempt at prolonging whatever was happening between the two of them.

Her efforts unfortunately were met with a sigh from Frank as he willed himself to his feet. “I’ve troubled you enough tonight.”

“I would feel better knowing you’re here and not out there busting the stitches I worked so hard on; twice.”

Despite her quick protest, he continued his stride towards the door. His eyes glaring at the lock before landing on her with a continued intensity.

That damn lock.

“Don’t you dare say it.” She said in haphazardly threatening fashion as she worked her way off the floor.

The look in his eyes softened as she inched towards him at the door, satisfied that his message was relayed without him even saying a word.

“Good night, Delilah.”

The sound of the door knob creaking filled the air.

“Good night, Frank.”

She waited for the door to close before hovering her fingers over the lock. The clicking noise became audible as she turned it to the right.

Attagirl, he said in his head as he made his way down the hall.

#frank castle #the punisher #daredevil #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x oc #marvel

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