#dad!frank castle fanfiction

[frankenhookersmonster]

fictober day thirty one - hookup, lovebug!frank castle x reader

warnings - 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, dad's best friend!frank castle x reader, smut (p in v)

word count - 1.8k

fictober masterlist - lovebug masterlist - masterlist

twitter - ko-fi

got something to say? a request or concept? speak!!! 

a/n - a little treat for the end of fictober :] ty for reading

October Thirty-First, one year after leaving

Everything hurt. You were conscious, compared to your fleeting lucidity the day before, and that only amplified your pain. Your wisdom teeth had been bothering you for a bit, you knew you needed them out for a while but only recently it had become unbearable. Unfortunately for you, this overlapped with Halloween. You had made plans to go out with some friends, dress up cute, maybe get a little bit fucked up if you so felt. The plans dissolved, though, and now you were plopped down on the couch in a manageable amount of pain. Halloweentown played on the tv, you swallowed as much water as you could and hugged a stuffed animal you had left at home over a year ago. 

The door creaked open, it was just loud enough for you to hear, along with the shaking off of boots. Sock clad feet walked up to the living room, and unfortunately for you, the closer they got the more recognizable they became.

“Cozy?” You looked up to Frank, who was pulling off a heavy, brown canvas jacket. You figured he’d stop by at some point, you couldn’t really escape him try as you might. You nodded, drinking what was left of your water and hearing the ice clatter around the glass. “Here.” Frank held his hand out, flexing his fingers. “You don’t have to.” You mumbled, voice straining which made him have to hide a smile. “Just give it.”

He disappeared into the kitchen with your cup, you could hear him add ice and fill it with water. When he came back in you took him in fully, the red of his cheeks disappearing as he warmed up in your house. “Thank you.” Your words were quick, choking them down with a sip of your new water. “No problem.” Frank let out a huff as he sat down next to you. 

“The hell is this movie?” You snorted, turning to see his furrowed brows as he scanned the screen. “Have you never seen Halloweentown?” He looked at you then, his arms still resting on his thighs. “The fuck is a Halloweentown?” 

You laughed loudly, ignoring the pain in your throat. He frowned, leaning back against the couch cushions. “You mean to tell me you’ve never seen the 1998 Disney Channel classic?” Frank shrugged. “I’m an old fuck, remember?” He smiled, reaching a hand over to tuck some hair behind your ear. It had been a minute since you had been with Frank, going on ten months at this point, but he still had that effect on you. Butterflies were forming, though you did your best to ignore them. 

“How’s the recovery going?” His eyes were burrowing into you, tongue slotted in between his teeth. You hummed, shutting your eyes as his touch around your jaw lingered. “It’s been, like, four days and it still hurts like a bitch.” Frank pouted, his hand wandering down to hold your throat gently. If he asked you to speak you would’ve stuttered, your face would’ve flushed and your eye’s would’ve blinked too much. 

“Would it hurt, like a bitch, if I kissed you?” You knew it would happen sooner or later, you just didn’t expect it to be so sudden. You didn’t mind, though, because you’d be lying if just seeing him wasn’t turning you on. “N-no.” You stuttered, feeling your hands get clammy under your fuzzy blanket.

Frank leaned close, you could feel his hot breath against your lips before he moved his face to your neck. You groaned, a mix of arousal and annoyance when he didn’t connect your mouths. He moved to the other side of your neck to leave a kiss, then to the center just below your chin. He moved to your chin, then hovered over your lips just long enough to hear you whimper. He smiled, tilting his head to lay his lips on your cheek, then slowly moving himself to kiss your other cheek. 

“What are you doing, ah-” Frank licked a stripe up your neck, taking his time to coat your throat in his spit. Once he removed himself from your skin, left a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose. “Not gonna share my spit with someone who just had oral surgery, sweetheart.” 

In one swift movement, Frank pulled your blankets off of you to reveal your body, covered in your favorite comfy clothes. “Nice pajamas.” He snorted, you went to cover your face but Frank kissed the backs of your hands. He pulled you close, gently resting you down on the back of the couch. 

Frank’s mouth moved down to your chest, the small amount of skin that was showing was covered in wet kisses while his fingers tugged on the ends of your shirt. You took your hand and placed it over his. “Can I keep it?” It wasn’t like Frank hadn’t seen every inch of you, because he certainly had. It had been a while, though, and being on the couch for the past few days had made you feel a little gross and unsexy. “Of course.” He smiled at you, planting a kiss on your forehead, which immediately made your confidence grow. 

“How about the shorts?” He had moved closer to your lower half, waistband of both your sweat shorts and your underwear in between his fingers. “T-Take them off, please.” You muttered, adjusting yourself and lifting your hips so he could pull your clothes down. His lips met your hips, then your naval, and then your belly. You giggled, though it was met with a moan when his fingers came up to your core. “There it is. Missed this.” He mumbled against your skin. 

“Where’s your dad? Lena?” He looked up at you with blown pupils, fingers still playing with your cunt while you tried to search for an answer. “At a b-bar. The new one that just opened, Lena’s friend owns it, fuck.” He clicked his tongue, massaging the skin on your hips with his hands. “You poor, poor thing. Dad left you all alone after you got your wisdom teeth out, huh.” You wanted to remind him that you were pretty much healed, that the pain was bad though manageable, but you didn’t let yourself turn to putty in his grip. 

“Bet I could slip in right now, and I’ve barely touched you. Wanna find out?” Before he even finished his sentence, he was pulling his shirt off and unzipping his pants. You saw the imprint through his boxers as you adjusted yourself, let your legs spread to either side of Frank and gave a view of all of you. He smiled, pulling down what was left of his clothes before he took a thumb to your swelling clit, cold air hitting it harshly. You shivered, “Please, Frankie.”

Pushed in, taking his time. He looked at your face, your expression blissed out. He ate it up, leaning down to suck on your neck harshly. He stayed put for a moment, basking in your heat, the heat that he missed so dearly. “Fuck me already, please, god. I’m already in pain, I just need you to do this for me, Frankie.” He was stunned, in all the time that Frank had known you, nothing like that had ever slipped from your lips, especially when you were underneath him like this. 

He did as you asked, gently rocking his hips against you at first. His pace quickened fast enough, hair falling into his face while he tried to look into your eyes. Your vision was a bit blurry, light moans escaping your lips before he hit your favorite spot. He knew he was close to it before you did, even after all this time he still knew your body like the back of his hand. You let him know, though, because a long, deep moan came out and shook him, he could have cum from just that.

“You miss this too, sweetheart?” You nodded, though you weren’t sure if it was the truth. Maybe you did miss him, maybe you just missed sex this good. It was hard to tell when Frank was doing everything right, everything perfect, and giving you the attention you craved. “You fuck me so good, Frank, love it when you fuck me like this.”

He continued to kiss your skin, masking his moans when he did so. He hadn’t had sex like this in a while, and having it with you was a dream come true. When he came over, he didn’t expect to end up inside of you. Frank saw the cars, apart from yours, missing from the driveway. He remembered watching your dad all but carry you into the house a few days before, gauze hanging out of your mouth and giggles coming from both of you. He didn’t want you to be alone, he did care about you and all so the thought of you helpless in the house with a wisdom toothless mouth made him frown. 

His actions were self indulgent. Frank couldn’t lie, he came over with some ulterior motives, even put a condom he didn’t end up using in his pocket. He didn’t expect you to be so susceptible, he didn’t think you would be until he was inside of you, seeing the way your face twisted up like it always did.

You were squeezing him tight, holding him close to your skin. Normally he’d be hiss, shake off the grip, but being with you again had made him ignore the pain. “Yeah, that’s it. Feels so good, uh-” He was getting close, and though he tried to edge himself it was hard with the way your cunt was gripping him. 

You didn’t even notice the tears falling from your eyes, but Frank did, clearing them away with his lips. A hand came to rest on your cheek, thumb swiping away the mix of teardrops and Frank’s saliva that laid on your face. “You’re so fucking pretty, Jesus Christ.” He hid in the crook of your neck, trying to avoid his orgasm. “Frank, hmm making me feel amazing, just like you always do.” 

“I’m gonna cum if you keep talking to me like that.” You giggled, interrupted by a sharp moan. “Isn’t that the point?”He groaned. “Where, tell me where to cum sweetheart.” You thought for a moment, hard as it was as he fucked your swollen folds. “T-Thighs.”

He nodded, though you came before the thought of his seed covering your skin could fully soak in. He helped you ride out your orgasm before quickly pulling out. He pushed your knees to your chest and came on the back of your thighs in long spurts. When your eyes opened you could see his face, furrowed brows and gaping mouth as he painted your skin.

Once he was done, still catching his breath, he took a thumb to wipe the cum around. “I’ll get a towel in a second, I just,” He trailed off, lost in watching the cum drip onto the couch. “Frankie, it'll stain.” You whined. He heard you, though he still took his time with your fucked out body. “Pretty, pretty baby.” He leaned down to kiss the back of your kneecaps. “Towel, now.”

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[annoyingnerdsposts]

Get-up-and-go  part 1

Heyyyyy... so i haven't posted much and I’m sorry for that my life has just been really busy rn and I’m getting back into writing.

ANYWHO- here’s a story with frank and his adoptive child being on the run :)  

Gender neutral reader

relationship is platonic with a capital P

It was late at night, maybe 11 or 12 o;clock but it was late nonetheless. You had fallen asleep on the couch in front of the tv, your arms stretched around the sofa and a blanket covering you. You were melting in the heat of this September night. You began to peel your body off the couch and make your way to the kitchen to make a tea and maybe grab a snack.

the news was on.

It was a rule in your house to always have the news on. If it wasn't on the TV it, was on the radio. But it was always on in some way shape or form. Frank said it was good to know what is going on in the city at all times. 

As the kettle was heating up on the stove you couldn’t help but over hear the story the news anchor was telling.

“An apartment building in Brooklyn was burned to the ground in a booming earlier tonight, the police have no suspects and have made zero arrests as of late, i will keep you updated as the situation unfolds.” 

You move closer to the TV and notice the address of the building.

That’s close to where Miles lives

Miles Morales, your best friend. and a part of your iconic trio. Miles, you and America. Miles was one of the first people you meet in New York, and frankly one of your closest friends.

You pulled your phone out in a panic and clicked on the saved number with miles face on it.

“MILES?!” you yell into the phone “MILES?!”

“..Yeah its me wassup” says a tired Miles. He must have been sleeping by the sound of his grubby voice into the phone. A relieved sign escaped your lips. “Are you OK?! A building near you was blown up !” Now miles must have been a little worried because the sleepy Miles that you called earlier was gone.”What where?!” he said, you could hear his bed squeaking so he must now be sitting up. “ Two streets down from you” I said into the phone, “Turn on the news”. You could hear Miles’ dad call Miles. “ I have to go y/n I’ll call you when I can, OK?” “OK” I replied and hung up. Something was different when you looked at the news screen now. 

12 dead 19 injured.

Fuck.

Amid all this you don’t know where Frank is. Double Fuck. You called him. No answer.  Again. No answer. Again. No answer.

The next 20 minutes consisted of you pacing back and forth in your small apartment trying not to freak the fuck out. Then the door finally opens, Its Frank, and he’s a mess. “Frank” you say staring at him  standing in the hall. Hes covered in blood which. to be fair, is normal Frank behaviour. But what threw you off was what his boots and face was covered in.

Ash, building ash.

“Kid..” he grumbled under his breath. “Y-You need to get your bag.” This time he sounded genuinely worried.

The bag he was lovingly referring to was your ‘Get-up-and-go’ bag. You’ve been with frank since you were a little kid, and since then hes made you pack such a bag. A get-up-and-go bag is used when you and frank need to leave the city fast. That bag contains clothes for 5 days, water, snacks, a first aid kit, 150 dollars in cash and a flip phone burner. On said burner had four numbers, Franks, Karen’s, Curtis’, and some random contact labled ‘Micro’ that frank said you should only use as a last resort.

You nodded and grabbed the bag from under your bed and walked to the front door. Frank was cleaning the blood and ash from his face in the bathroom. He finished up and grabbed his bag and with that, You both disappeared. 

You got into the van and drove away, your head leaning against the window of the vehicle watching your apartment building fade into a speck. You look over at Frank.  “Are you gonna tell me what happened?” you asked calmly, “No”. “When we get somewhere safe we will talk about it, but right now, we need to focus getting out of the city” He states. you wait till you ask the next question. “Dose this have anything to do with what happened in Brooklyn?” You asked. Frank remained  silent.

The city look so different at night. A sea of black with specks of light, each light a home with people who are living out there lives. Its a strange feeling, realising how small we are. As you left the city you and Frank stayed silent. You had millions of questions running through your mind at once but didn't know how to ask them. You looked over at Frank, the same fixed expression as before he looked over to you. It must have been around 1 in the morning at this point. “Hey kid, I know your tired and you want answers and you’ll get them but we need to get out of the city first. he placed a hand on your shoulder. you nodded and laid your head on the window of the van and fell asleep.

You woke up at 4:00 because Frank swerved the car and you almost crashed. “Frank, you need sleep” you said. Frank let out a sigh. “The next motel I see, were staying there” you noded and the both of you continued driving. 

You pulled into this shady motel of the street and got a two bedroom for a night. You flopped into the bed as did Frank.

“Fuck” Frank said

“What?” You said “What did you do?”

“Y’know that building that blew up in Brooklyn?”

“Yes”

“I blew it up”

Triple Fuck.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sooooooooo that was part one, if you want a part two let me know cause i have big plans for this story and yeah thanks for reading i appriciate it :)

heres the link to part 2:

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/annoyingnerdsposts/694144608735739904?source=share

[aza-writes]

The Last Christmas

A Blood Red One-Shot

A/N: This was supposed to be out on Christmas but some family stuff came up and I was unable to finish/post it until now. I hope you all enjoy! This is only part one of this little blurb. I was going to write four Christmases but the next three would be spoilers for the main books. I'll write more chapters as those parts come out!

Requested : No

WARNINGS: mentions of mental, physical, and emotional abuse, sex, blood, and violence

Aleksandra's POV

Russia : 2005

"Папа, проснись, проснись! дедушка мороз пришел!" ("papa, wake up! grandpa frost came!")

The excitement from my voice is crystal clear to anyone who is listening. Today was Christmas, the one day of the year I get to rest. I get to push my training back a few hours and eat some cookies. I jump up and down on my parent's bed, hoping they wake up so I can open my presents. 

I continue to jump on my father's side of the bed, hoping and praying that he will wake up soon to celebrate. 

"заткнись перед вами, вредители!(shut up you vermin!)" My mother's voice rings from the bathroom. I turn my head around and get off my parents' bed so I can stand how she taught me to; feet together, back straight, hands held behind me. "Разве ты не видишь, что твой отец всю ночь трахал шлюх с другой комит государственной безопасности? Ты позор ты глупая девушка! (can't you see that your father was out all night fucking the whores with the other komitet gosudarstvennoy bezopasnosti (KGB)? You're a disgrace you stupid girl!)" 

I rapidly blink my eyes to avoid crying. If she saw me cry her words will only get worse. "разве тебе нечего сказать тебе неблагодарная сука? (don't you have something to say you ungrateful bitch?)" Her tone is harsher than before if that's even possible. 

I choke back my tears, afraid of her screaming at me any longer. "Я прошу прощения, мама. (I apologize mama.)"  She places her hands on her frail, boney hips and stares into my soul. "Зачем? (For what?)" 

I take a few seconds to remember all the insults she threw at me, not wanting to forget one and become a target for more verbal attacks. "за то, что она глупая, неблагодарная, позорная сука. (for being a stupid, ungrateful, disgraceful bitch.)"

She raises a hand and slaps me twice across my face. "полное предложение! (Full sentence!)" 

I take a deep breath and regain composure as quickly as possible to look my mother in the eyes. "Мама, я прошу прощения за то, что я глупая, неблагодарная, позорная сука. (Mama, I apologize for being a stupid, ungrateful, disgraceful bitch.)"  Mother doesn't even bother to respond to my apology. She does the same thing that she always does whenever I upset her; looks me up and down then turns around to go back into the bathroom. "не утруждайте себя поиском подарков. Ваш подарок - новая обувь на пуантах, которая выкладывается вместе с остальной частью вашей практики. (don't bother looking for presents. Your gift is new pointe shoes that are laid out with the rest of your practice wear.)" 

My eyes start to water with dread. "Нет подарков? (No presents?)" I don't understand, I've been good all year. Mother and father get me a present then grandpa frost gives me one as well. What did I do wrong?

As if my mother read my thoughts, her response is perfectly tailored. "Хорошие дети обеспечивают свои семьи, все, что вы делаете, это вызываете разочарование и хаос. (good children provide for their families, all you do is cause frustration and chaos.)" 

My eyes continue to water as I watch my mother continue to get ready for the day. She pats on her makeup to look like she's a glass doll that's come to life. Thin eyebrows are drawn on with a dark brown pen; lipstick that is so round that her lips look like a circle except for the heart-shaped bumps at the top; wide, white eyeliner on her water line that she draws on with a melted white crayon that used to belong to me; She smears on pink and purple eye shadow to mimic a look she used to do when she would perform at the Mariinsky Theater; and of course, she cannot forget the power that she taps all over her face where makeup isn't already sitting. 

None of the other mothers wear their makeup like that. Not a single one. 

She hums the same song she always does when she puts on makeup like this. 

What do you see? 

You people gazing at me.

You see a doll on a music box that's wound by a key

Doll On a Music Box from the movie Chitty Chitty Bang Bang: my mother's favorite song that isn't classical, ballet, or Russian. It's the only non-Russian song she allows in the house. 

How can you tell, I'm under a spell, I'm waiting for love's first kiss

Her voice rings throughout the house, echoing like a ghost's moan in an abandoned building. The light and the soft sound of her singing voice are a stark contrast to the tone she was just used to yell at me for trying to wake my father up. 

I slowly sneak out of the room as she continues to sing to herself in the mirror. I carefully walk into the main area of the house and listen to what is going on outside. Neighborhood children are running around with new toboggans, balls, bikes, and other toys. 

"Aleksandra, тебе лучше надеть балетную одежду, когда я выйду туда! "Aleksandra you better have your ballet clothes on when I get out there!)" 

I sniffle quietly before yelling out, "Да мама. (Yes mama.)" 

Taglist:

@simisimpsfordaredevil

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[milkymoon2483]

Hidden Magnets

Push & Pull - Episode 3 Frank Castle X Plus Size Jewish OFC

Previous episode | Series Masterlist | Next Episode

Summary: Frank pulls you closer just to push you away again. Not able to contain your feelings for Frank you finally speak up, only to be met with more rejection. However, when you find yourself needing him the most he finally shows up for you.

Rating: Very much E.18+. MINORS DNI.

Warnings: Alternating POV, age gap (legal), Mentions of alcoholism, drinking, smoking, divorce, trauma, plus size reader, fat shaming, sexual assault, violence, blood, and FINALLY some SMUT. Sensitive folks this is not for you. WC: ~5300

Thank you my lovelies. @romanarose @hbc8 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @boysddontcry @imaswellkid

Hidden Magnets

Frank sat at the window for longer than he’d like to admit, keeping his eyes on the light blue house across the street. He preferred to look at it as an act of protection rather than voyeurism, but he wasn’t sure you’d agree.

It’s been two days since you last spoke, since he almost kissed you, and he couldn’t even find it in himself to text.

You didn’t text either, perhaps shaken by what almost occurred, perhaps burned by the sting of his rejection. He saw it in your eyes, the disappointment, the hurt he caused you. Yet he still watched, convinced that this was for the better, that this was what’s right. He could make out your red sweater as you moved around the house,  a smear of color behind the glass and sheer curtains, like a koi swimming endlessly in an aquarium.

He was still being pulled in your direction, and watching from a safe distance seemed harmless enough.

Come noon you were making little trips outside, carrying some boxes and trash bags. wrapped in your unzipped puffy coat, your face pale and somber. 

When he heard the familiar sound of a car ignition refusing to start, he bit back smile.  An excuse. A perfect reason to see you, no false pretenses. Just as suspected you showed up less than two minutes later.

You were hardly surprised that your dad’s old Honda refused to start, the battery had probably died over the span of the past two weeks. At least you hoped that the little light indication was correct and it was nothing more serious. You didn’t have the money for anything more serious.

You hated to have to do this, but what choice did you have? You set your pride aside in favor of being pragmatic, because of course he'd help. You’d be nice and normal about it and he would come to your rescue, like he always does. 

With a heavy heart you crossed the street towards the humble dark gray one-story. 

Frank opened before you could finish knocking. 

“Hey Han, what’s up? ” He greeted you with a hushed tone. The tiniest bit of stubble showed on his otherwise clean-shaven jaw, he was wearing a gray melange pullover hoodie and cargo pants. You could smell the whiff of fresh laundry, battling the need to nuzzle against his chest. 

“Hi, Frank, um..the car won’t start, I think it’s the battery. Can you maybe take a look?” 

“Sure, come on” He smiled briefly, pulling on his boots and heading out after you.

What followed was a display of masculinity the likes of which you haven’t witnessed before. You were gawking yet again as he rolled up his sleeves, revealing those toned forearms, and popped the hood of the car open, furrowing his brows in concentration. He proceeded to replace the car battery with a spare one from his garage. He checked the oil and the brakes, filled up the windshield wiper fluid, and even got an electric pump to top off the tires. 

There was a self-assuredness about his movements, each one deft and precise.

It was an even more potent aphrodisiac than seeing him shirtless at the pool all those years ago. Each accurately confident action only served to remind you of other things he must know how to do accurately and confidently.  You couldn't help yourself when it came to him, your body reacted on a biological level.

Acutely aware of your gaze, Frank knew your eyes followed him as he moved, he was the one on display now, and a small part of him loved it. 

“I think she’s ready to go” He smiled, softening his stoic features.

“I can’t believe you just did all that, thank you so much, that was impressive!” you gushed as you both walked back into your house. Frank washed his hands of the grime in the kitchen sink. When he turned back, there was that look in your eyes again, filled with gratitude and awe, the one he couldn't get enough of. An overwhelming sense of pride swelled in his chest. He was still useful, still helpful to you. 

“Don’t mention it” He replied, laying both palms on your shoulders, slowly running them down your arms, making heat skittle across your skin. “You know I’d do anything for you Han” his voice was quieter, softer than before, as you drew closer to him, Hidden magnets pulling you towards each other.

“Anything?” you asked softly, keeping your eyes on his hands holding yours, caressing the backs of your palms with his thumbs. Your heart galloped at his proximity. 

“Yeah” he replied, exhaling sharply.

His palm came up to your face, thumb gently tracing the seam of your lips, reminding himself of what he was not supposed to taste.

“So goddamn beautiful and sweet, what am I gonna do with you…” He rasped. 

“Frank…” you pleaded. For him to kiss you, to do something, anything. To ease the agonizing ache in your chest that grew more unbearable with each time he was near.

He shook his head silently. Anything but this, anything but what you both wanted. 

He didn’t know why he was doing this to you, to himself. Maybe he felt like he deserved this self-inflicted punishment. Like a masochist pushing himself to the breaking point.

"You can…have me" you finally spoke, just barely, heart slamming in your chest at the words you thought you'd never say in his presence.

Frank sighed heavily. This was exactly what he was afraid of.

"Hannah, baby, you don't want this.." he replied, regret painted heavily on his face.

"You'd be surprised" your voice was tinted with annoyance. "I'm not a child Frank, haven't been for quite some time" 

"But you deserve someone your age. We're not even supposed to be talking about this" 

"Yet you keep almost kissing me. Maybe you should do it, get it over with." You cocked up a brow in defiance.

Frank chuckled, then turned serious. "I'm scared that if I start I’m not gonna be able to stop" 

You shuddered at his words. The thought of him actually reciprocating your feelings, and admitting it, seemed so far-fetched. 

"Well I might be a terrible kisser" you smirked, stepping closer to him, faking confidence to the best of your abilities. 

"I wish I could believe that" He clenched his jaw, eyes darting to your palm lying on his chest.

“Only one way to find out” You teased, glancing up at him.

“m’sorry” He stepped away, dropping his hands.

“Coward” you muttered under your breath, hoping he’d hear it. Anger flooded you, he was doing it again, pulling you towards him just to push you away. As if he had no idea how badly it fucking hurt. 

“Careful now babygirl, you don’t know what you're asking for” 

He issued a grave warning, shutting the door behind him, not giving you a chance to respond.

*******

17:45 Hannah I’m sorry

17:46 Frank Me too

17:48 Hannah Are you mad at me?

17:51 Frank No Han. Not at you

17:52 Hannah Who then?

17:53 FrankI gotta go 

17:54 Hannah OK

The exchange you had replayed repeatedly in your mind, making you feel increasingly pathetic. You practically begged for him to take you, made it abundantly clear you wanted him, and he still said no. Out of honor or dignity or god knows what abstract concept. It wasn't because he didn't want you, but you could see him trying to convince himself he didn't. That stupid fucking age excuse. You wished he’d just tell you the truth.  When the tears finally came you allowed them to wash over you. It felt foolish to cry over this, frivolous and vain in comparison to your father’s death, but it stung just the same. 

********

You bumped into Rebecca Levine on your maiden voyage with your dad’s Honda, deciding to go into the nearest Starbucks would be tempting enough to make yourself drive it. 

“Hannah! Omg! Hi!” She greeted you warmly, setting her cup on the counter so she could hug you.

“Hey Beck! Good to see you” you were genuinely happy to meet her. 

You’d see her every time you came to visit, and the two of you quickly struck up a friendship.

“I heard about Saul, I’m so sorry.” she grimaced, pulling her eyebrows together.

“Yeah, thanks, it’s ok. I’m just clearing out the house now” you mirrored her expression.

“I just got into town for the holidays actually, Do you maybe wanna go out? Catch up a little.” 

“You know what? Sure, I need to get out of that house” You agreed happily. Finally you had something to look forward to.

That night you stood in front of the mirror, applying your lipstick and pushing your breasts together in your top. You tossed your hair from side to side, mindlessly asking yourself if Frank would find you pretty like this. 

Doesn't fucking matter. Does it? 

Anger began to bubble inside of you at the thought of him. He made his choice and it was probably for the best. Whatever was pushing him away repeatedly must be a good enough reason. 

You wished you knew, maybe it would help you stay away from him out of your own volition. 

*******

The place was packed. Being one of three bars in a 20 mile radius it enjoyed quite a crowd, on Fridays in particular. The air was heavy with the smell of beer and smoke and you took your jacket off as soon as you were escorted to your table by the hostess.

After a brief conversation Rebecca ran into some more friends, leaving you to nurse your second drink alone while she entertained them. She did introduce you but the conversation went over your head, the music being too loud for you to follow.

Frank's image refused to leave you, as you touched your own lips, tracing the ghost of his fingers. 

By drink number three you pulled out your phone, opening your text chain with Frank. What an infuriating asshole. You riled yourself up, which was much easier in your drunken state.

What a fucking mess. He thinks he knows better than me, that he can make decisions for me… cant fucking decide for himself. He keeps torturing me, probably likes it too. Probably enjoys the desperate look in the fat girl’s eyes. Acting all fucking high and mightly and righteous. Fuck him. 

23:03 Hannah I thought about it again. I dont think I am sorry. I think YOU should be sorry. I think you enjoy torturing me. 

23:06 Frank Are you ok?? Where are you? 

23:06 Hannah Im great. Went out to find someone more age appropriate.

23:06 Frank Thats not funny. Are you drunk? 

23:08 Hannah Why do you do it? Why do you try to kiss me and then act like its all my idea?? Do you know how bad it fucking hurts??

23:08 Frank Where are you?? 

23:09 Frank Hannah??

23:09 Frank ??

23:11 Frank Han im sorry. Where are you??

Frank’s heart sank, guilt flooded him and settled low in his gut. He was making you collateral damage. Each time he was drawn closer to you and pulled away, each time he denied himself, he also denied you, rejected you, inflicted the same pain on you. 

And now you were drunk, god knows where, and with god knows whom. 

He opened his phone to text you again when he saw the instagram logo. Might help.

He scrolled past a few images and then he saw it.  Your delicate hand, nails manicured in black, holding a cocktail glass. The red logo on the napkin gave away your location. 

You returned your phone to your clutch bag and threw the rest of your cocktail back, the sweet tang of it causing bile to rise in your stomach. Need water, or tomorrow's gonna hurt like a bitch. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you had this much, suddenly finding it increasingly hard to walk as you got up and made your way towards the bathroom, wobbling on two left feet and leaning on whatever your hands could find. 

“Hey! What the fuck dude!” The sharp voice was familiar, and you realized you were grabbing a man's shoulder.

“Sorry..sorry” you mumbled as he turned, making the color drain from your face.

Caleb. 

Even in a hundred years you’d remember the face of the person who turned your high school years into hell.  You dared to reject him once, and he made it his life's mission to make you regret it. 

“Would you look at that…heavy Hannah?” He smiled, without a trace of sincerity. "Should have known you'd come looking for me"

You blinked at him, dumbfounded, silenced. You were reminded of how powerless he always made you feel, of that awful nickname that caught on. 

“Aren’t you gonna apologize?” He continued, voice dripping with venom.

“Already did. Leave me alone.” 

“Hey!! Hey!! Come back here Friedman! Let's catch up!” He shouted at you as you desperately attempted to get away, pushing people to the side and squeezing in between them, clawing your way out.

Your eyes caught the back exit sign and you darted towards the glowing light as fast as you could, adrenaline pushing out the alcohol in your veins. It all felt like a nightmare, the ones in which you tried to breathe, but your lungs wouldn't fill with air, tried to run but your legs were stuck in quicksand.  You turned your head back, and for a moment you seemed to have lost him, as you quickly slipped out, closing the door behind you.

Your lungs burned, waves of cold sweat washed over you. You shivered from the cold, realizing your jacket was left behind, attempting to think of a plan that will allow you to slip back inside, grab it, and make a run for it as fast as possible. It was clear to you that Caleb wouldn’t leave you alone. The asshole could never resist the temptation of torturing you. Fucking sadist.

You leaned against the wall, drawing deep breaths of cold air. The sudden noise of the door opening drew your attention but it was already too late as he tightly grabbed your wrist.

You were in no shape to fight or defend yourself against him, but you knew you’d have to try.

“Gocha… lucky you can't run fast, can you?”

“Caleb please leave me alone” you insisted, trying to pull your hand, knowing it's hopeless, you were an easy target and he was nothing if not lazy.

“I’d say you seem a little cold, even with the extra padding” 

“Your fat jokes are super funny. Now go away please”

“Maybe I could warm you up, huh?” 

“It’s still a nope from me, now fuck off” You desperately tried to make your voice more intimidating and determined.

“You're being rude, you should be thanking me, you're lucky I even wanna touch you, most guys probably don't. But I'm feeling generous"

“you're being a creep, do not touch me.” You attempted to pull your hand out of his steely grip

Fear flooded your veins as he loomed closer, constricting your airways and making it harder for you to think and breathe.

He crowded your space, shoving his face into yours. His other palm grabbed your cheeks tightly, squeezing painfully.   “Come on baby, give me a little kiss, that would be a good enough apology for me” 

You could smell his foul breath as he slotted his mouth against yours, shoving his tongue deep into your throat, making your teeth clash.

Your body finally responded, you bit into his tongue and pushed him back as hard as you could, causing him to stumble backwards, finally letting go of your wrist. “Get the fuck off me!!” you shouted, hoping someone could hear you.

Anyone. 

“Fucking bitch!” he spat, blood drizzling from his mouth.

His palm moved fast, the sharp sting flooding the right side of your face, burning your skin. 

Your ear rang so loudly you didn’t hear the heavy footsteps approaching.

“You heard her” the grave voice was filled with more rage than you’ve ever heard.

Frank was an unstoppable force moving towards Caleb at maximum speed, crashing into him, sending him flying against the wall. His arm restraining Caleb in place.

“Fuck off man, let go of me” Caleb whimpered, his voice small and pathetic.

“I’ll let go when you apologize” Frank growled, not moving a muscle.

"So..s...sorry” Caleb squirmed

“Not good enough, fuckface. Try again” 

“I’m sorry Hannah” His voice strained against Frank’s arm pinning him by the throat.

“Atta boy. Now say thank you” 

“Thank you?” Caleb’s features twisted with a question mark.

“Say ‘Thank you for breaking my nose, sir’ ” 

“What?? Whah…what’s that supposed to mean?? why?” Caleb’s eyes filled with terror

“Cause you hit her, and I have decided to spare all other bones in your body” Frank's tone was flat, low and thick like gravel.

“Come on, let’s hear you” His steely eyes pierced through Caleb, cold and unforgiving.

"No man..your'e crazy" Caleb tried to protest

"You have no fucking clue" Frank replied, eerily calm. There was a pause that stretched between the two men, but Frank's eyes remained on Caleb, unflinching.

“Th…thank you..for..” his voice finally shook

The sickening crack sound was followed by a howl of pain. Caleb dropped to the ground, trembling, grabbing his bleeding nose with both hands.

“Come on, let’s go” Frank wrapped his arm over your shoulder, leading you towards his truck.

“You’rer shaking, take my jacket” He removed it, wrapping it around you. The residual heat from his body was so incredibly comforting.

You nodded without saying a word, keeping your eyes down.  You felt yourself sinking deeper into shame, and he didn't have to say anything, you disciplined yourself sternly enough.  Youv'e never felt more like a scalded child in your life. Helpless and irresponsible. Having the grown up clean your mess for you.

So fucking embarrassing. So messy. Drunk texting him, having him save you from the big bad creep. Pathetic.

“Whatever you’re saying to yourself now, stop it” Frank’s deep voice cut your train of thought. 

His heavy hand came to rest on your thigh, the warmth of it seeping through your jeans. 

“I’m sorry…” Your voice shook, tears began to pool in your eyes, the combined weight of every way you have embarrassed yourself was too heavy for you to carry. 

“Nothing you should be sorry about Han, It’s not your fault, none of it.” 

He kept driving in silence , his palm never leaving your leg, seeking constant physical validation that you are in fact ok and within his reach.

When Frank parked the truck the sudden absence of his touch left a cold void, making goosebumps run across your skin. You weren’t sure what you needed more; to crumble and cry yourself to sleep under your blankets or to cling to Frank's body heat and wrap around him like a cold blooded reptile, seeking warmth and comfort. 

“Thanks Frank, I’m sorry for this. I’ll go home now” You muttered, deciding that you have inconvenienced him enough.

“Do you wanna come in?” He asked softly, grabbing your hand.

“Okay” you replied, not finding it in yourself to resist the invitation.

Frank’s home was always minimalist to the point of being spartan. Nothing more than the bare essentials. Always spotless though you couldn’t imagine him cleaning. It fit him perfectly, being surrounded only by things that had a function, a purpose. 

You plopped on the couch with a heavy sigh, still wrapped in his jacket, shivering from the cold.

“Here, drink.” He handed you a glass of water, which you gulped quickly.

“How many did you have?” he asked 

“Three, pretty strong ones.” 

Frank took the empty glass from your hand, refilling it again, and sat himself next to you on the couch.

Your breath was heavy in the silence of the room, when tears began flooding your eyes again and you sniffled. You could sense him looking at you, disappointed no doubt, at the crushing way you managed to embarrass yourself. Your skin itched with the need to hide but your body refused to move. 

“C’mere” He grunted, scooting closer to you. 

A sign of relief left your lungs as he wrapped his arms around you. 

“Seems like all I do is cry on you, I should really stop that” you murmured.

“S’ok Han, You know it's alright with me” He replied, voice muffled by the hug.

His palms ran down your back, sliding beneath the jacket, fingers brushing gently on the sliver of skin at the base of your spine, above your jeans. You fought your need to straddle his hips and press yourself fully against him, acutely aware of the warmth of his fingers on your bare skin.  His face nuzzled into your neck, breathing the scent of your hair, pressing himself against you. For a moment it seemed that he was the one begging for your warmth. 

Frank wished he could tell you. How sorry he was, how badly he wanted to kiss you, how his hands fucking burned with the need to touch you. He knew had no right to you, no right to claim you for himself, it didn’t stop him from wanting to.

Slowly your body went soft and limp in his arms as you began to doze off. He laid you gently on the pillow, covering you with the throw blanket. 

He brushed the hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear, swiping a finger along your earlobe. He wished he could kiss it, draw the velvety skin between his lips and tug gently with his teeth. You'd shudder, goosebumps would run along your side as you'd press closer to him. God, he wished he could. 

The sound of the shower being turned on made you stir awake. You blinked once, twice, before connecting the dots in your mind. 

Your body ached, throat was dry, and limbs were heavy, but a voice in your head spoke loud and clear. Get up.

You obeyed.

You took off Frank's jacket, then your top, your jeans, socks, bra, and panties. The neatly folded pile of clothes was left on the couch as you walked towards the shower.

Steam filled the small room, the spray of water hiding your presence. Your heart slammed in your chest, so violently you could hear it, but a stronger force possessed you now.

You watched him for a moment, standing under the hot stream, eyes closed, he ran his palms on his face, combing his hair back with his fingers. You swallowed the lump in your throat, pushing yourself onward.

Frank’s eyes flickered open, he felt like he was being watched, and it took him a second to realize what exactly he was seeing through the steam. The sight of your naked form made his breath hitch, unsure of what you'll do next.  He barely flinched when you opened the shower door and stepped in silently, your eyes finally connecting.

He was cornered, you left him no choice but to face this head on. 

Brave girl.

You lifted your hands to caress his face, in a silent plea, but he grabbed your wrists. A final pathetic attempt to stop you. He felt weak, desperately holding on to his reserve by the thinnest thread. 

He looked at you with an expression you could not decipher. His dark eyes wide open, jaw clenched, nostrils flared. He seemed angry but he did not speak, did not move. The deafening silence rang in your ears, and you felt yourself breaking under his stare. 

He released your arms slowly, as you gently cupped his face in your palms. He leaned into your touch ever so slightly, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows, wearing a pained expression. The tension inside you boiled, begging to be released, clawing under your skin and rising like bile in your chest. You were ready to confess it all, every last agonizing thought, every dirty fantasy. 

You came closer, tilting your head and ever so gently pressing your lips against Frank's. His muscles tightened under your touch and your heart began to sink, as he did not move. 

This is a mistake, stop it now. His brain screamed, but all he could feel was the touch of your hands, the softness of your mouth on his. It was a balm on his nerves, forcing him into submission in the gentlest of ways. 

He drew a deep breath, allowing himself to finally surrender to you. His arms wrapped around your plush body, fingers digging into your wet skin, pulling you in, reciprocating your miserable kiss. 

You whimpered as the tension rolled over you in waves. He deepened the kiss, his tongue asking permission to taste you. He licked into your mouth, with infinite softness, nothing like the bruising kisses you imagined, he was tender and sweet and patient. His fingers rested on your cheek, guiding your mouth onto his, tracing your lips between kisses. 

He leaned you against the shower wall, pressing his body into yours, and you melted with delight, clinging closer to him, as your touch starved skin finally found relief. His patience spoke of a need to hold back, to protect you from himself, but you wanted to be consumed by him, devoured until there was nothing left. 

Your naked bodies slotted against each other yet you kissed as though you were still clothed, hands gently skimming along the sides, caressing the neck and arms. Exploring carefully into new territory, hiding desperate urgency.

Frank's mouth trailed slow kisses from your jaw, down your neck, until he realized there was no fabric separating you. Hesitantly and carefully his palm cupped your bare breast, his thumb circled the areola until he took it into his mouth, swirling his tongue and causing the sensitive bud to pebble. He muttered a soft “fuck” before moving to your other breast, cupping them both and feeling the weight of them in his hands. “So goddamn pretty” he whispered and kissed his way back to your mouth. 

You allowed your fingers to trail down his torso, skimming the firmness of the body you used to conjure in your mind for years. He felt so big, so real, his imaginary form turning solid. Your lips pressed against the column of his neck, licking greedily at the junction of his jaw and up to his ear, grazing with your teeth just barely, just like you desperately wanted to, a thousand times. 

The weight of his heavy cock on pressed into your hip, and as you rutted against it the friction made him groan, his fingers digging into your soft flesh, grinding himself against you. His thigh slotted between your legs, causing your breath to quicken. You were reminded of all the times you thought about rocking yourself on his thigh until you came.

You dragged your core on him, wet heat emanating from you, each moan you made swallowed by his hungry mouth. “That’s right, rub yourself on me baby” His voice was pure sin, and the words made you clench around nothing. He didn’t even have to touch you, he could talk your pussy into cumming if he damn well pleased.

His grip grew tighter and greedier as his fingers spread across your ass, grinding you against himself harder, each slippery drag of your soaked cunt punctuated by a breathy moan.  The heat rose steady in your belly, spurring you on, pulling you closer towards your release. Your hands rested on his chest, bracing yourself for impact. 

Opposing needs pulled Frank in both directions.The need to protect you, be gentle and careful and reverent. But also the need to ruin you, to watch you come undone, take more than you could give and give more than you could handle, until you were a quivering mess in his arms.

He broke from the kiss to look at you, transfixed with the way your face contorted in pleasure. If he was doing this, surrendering to this, he wanted to see you. The way your chest rose and fell, your brows pulled with concentration, your parted lips emanated those pretty sounds. He wanted to see what he was doing to you. His eyes flicked downwards, to where your slick folds rubbed against him, where his cock was pressed into your soft flesh. 

“Look at me Hannah” he asked, and your eyes fluttered open, heart galloping at the sound of your own name. 

“Shhh..look at me, s’ok baby, your’e so fucking pretty like this” his thumb ran along your bottom lip and slid gently into your mouth, you began sucking greedily, running your velvety tongue on the pad of his finger. He pumped his finger in and out, mesmerized by the way your plush lips wrapped around the thick digit. 

“Are you gonna cum baby? Hm?” He continued, as you quickened your movements, whimpering around his finger, dragging your drenched core on his thigh again and again, searching for more. "Cum for me honey, make a mess on me" he rasped,  brown eyes almost black with lust.  The pressure in your belly tightened, arousal stirring deep within you, rising higher and higher. A series of strangled moans tore from your throat as your thighs pressed around his tightly. Your blood flooded with bliss, bubbling to the tips of your toes in wave after wave of pleasure. 

You searched for his lips once more, tasting him deeper, pushing your tongue into the cavern of his mouth, sucking on his bottom lip. He surrendered willingly as you purred against his lips.

He let you come down from your high before switching off the water. Your eyes flickered open lazily, still drunk with pleasure.

"Come on, let's dry you off" his voice sounded softer than you've ever heard it.

The post orgasm haze faded into a fragile sense of careful hesitancy.  He wrapped a large towel around you, taking your hand and leading you towards his bedroom. 

“I can take the couch” He said with a tint of apology to his voice, as he sat beside you on the bed, a towel wrapped around his waist.

Your eyes flicked to his, looking for disappointment or anger, but you found none.

“Don’t go, please.” you pleaded, reaching for his hand.

You were scared that if you’d let him leave the room the moment would pass, the magic would fade. Afraid that he’d be back to being his strong stoic self, preoccupied with what’s right and proper and dignified.

You scooted closer to him as he ducked his head, kissing your bare shoulder, earning himself an immediate satisfied hum that spurred him to trail kisses all the way up your neck and jaw until reaching your lips. 

"Lay back baby" he rasped, leaning you on the pillows. 

Exhaustion settled in your bones, laying heavy on your lids as they fluttered shut. His coarse palm caressed you gently, lulling you to sleep in moments.

Frank thought he’d be angry at what you did, but he felt lucky, undeserving of your trust and affections. If he was a better man he would have been able to stay away from you altogether. But he wasn’t. And now he probably deserved this, to have a taste of you before he had to deny himself again. After what he knew he put you through he was willing to pay that price. 

*******

You stirred awake suddenly, being pulled from a dream that did not make sense into a brightly lit room. Your neatly folded pile of clothes laid on the pillow next to you. 

It took you a moment to register Frank's presence, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to you, he turned his head a moment later. 

"Mornin' Han" his voice was grave, expression somber. 

"Get dressed, we gotta talk." 

Fin. 

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

Listen you are making me fall in love with every father shaped man (rip my daddy issues) because now I’m also in love Frank Castle. Before your story I adored him but now I have fallen hard

I have a long suffering best friend who I subject to all of my fanfiction and she just gets increasingly deranged texts like “now I’m obsessed with daredevils dead dad” “Matt’s not the dad tho he’s like the Spencer to Lisa’s carly” “I can make the punisher forcibly parent Spider-Man” I’m so glad I’m infecting others with this thank you I’m thrilled

[issamhysa]

Being Frank Castle’s surrogate daughter would include:

A/N: AU where Amy never left and Billy's a good guy because I do what I want! Everybody’s happy, dammit!

You and Amy get along very well

Frank half expected the two of you to constantly be at each other's throats, but no

Instant best friends

Amy asks him to teach both of you how to fight, and he straight up teaches you both Krav Maga

You pick it up a lot faster than Amy does, so you play-fight a lot when Frank's not home

Call it practice

At one point, the two of you manage to spring up on him and take him down when he comes home

At least, that's what you and Amy think happened

In reality, Frank was way too tired to deal with the two of you, so he just let it happen

You got a lecture later

Frank's a little rough sometimes

But you both understand that all he wants is for the two of you to be safe

He'd never forgive himself if anything happened to you two

Moving right on, Frank kinda sucks at cooking

Okay, really sucks at it

Though he occasionally enjoys barbecuing outside in the summer

Anyway, it falls on you and Amy to cook most of the time

Frank buys the ingredients, you and Amy cook

Your go-to meals?

Dinosaur nuggets and smiley french fries

The first time you made them, Frank had just gotten home from getting his ass handed to him

Er, sorry, I meant kicking ass

No, I didn't

So you and Amy tossed everything in the deep-fryer and sat on the couch

"What the hell is this?"

"Dinosaur chicken nuggets? What, did you get hit in the head?"

Frank throws a pillow at your head but settles down with his food and his beer bottle to watch Frozen 2 with the two of you

Movie nights are very common between the three of you

Well, five when Curtis and Billy join the party

Frank hosts horror nights, you and Amy host animated, Billy hosts gore nights and Curtis…

Curtis just plays whatever he feels like watching on that day

Whether it be The Incredibles or the entirety of the Saw saga

Speaking of Curtis, he takes you and Amy out all the time

Breakfast at the diner on Tuesdays, the movies on Fridays

Sometimes he'll just stop by the apartment and drag the two of you out of bed to go to those free concerts at the park

Hell, he'll drag Frank out too

Last time it was some band playing country music

You all ended up inhaling as many hot dogs as you possibly could

Frank got you and Amy slushies, too

It was the best day

Now, Billy

He seriously spoils you and Amy

Takes you to the amusement park whenever you two want to go

Even if it means he has to miss a meeting

Besides, meetings are sooo boring

Billy actually takes you and Amy wherever you want to go

Most of the time he does it just to spite Frank

Because with FRANK

“Hey, Frank! Can we go-” “No.”

But with BILLY

“Hey, Uncle Billy! Can we go-” “What did your dad say?” “...He said no.” “Alright. Where are we going?”

He can't say no

Well, he can

He just doesn't want to

No, but seriously, Billy is the best uncle

He gives pretty good advice whenever he can

And scares off the boys at your door

He can be real scary when he wants to be

Never to you and Amy unless y’all screw up

But most of the time with Billy, he’ll just squeeze you and smother you in kisses

He’s so embarrassing

God bless

Dinah and Karen are like your cool aunts

Well, Karen's mostly the cool aunt

Dinah… She tries, but she's protective by nature so

It's hard

They take you shopping a lot

And their fitting-room feedback? Fantastic

They help you find Frank a gift for Father's Day

You and Amy decide on a mug with a dill-shaped handle that says you're kinda a big dill"

Because it's fucking hilarious

Frank pretends to hate it at first but refuses to use another mug after that

He’ll even take it with him on his stake-outs

It’s kinda funny

Frank doesn't want you around when he's working

Even though he knows you're both adults and can take care of your own damn selves

He doesn't like dragging you into his messes

Plus, you and Amy already have a talent for getting in trouble

You’ve both gotten like, super good at sneaking out

Most of the time you sneak out because you want to go to 7-Eleven to get slurpees and an insane amount of candy

When you come back, Frank’s waiting at the door with his arms crossed

Because it’s 3 fucking am and the two of you weren’t home

HOWEVER, you can easily shut him up if you bring him a slurpee

Well, he’ll still be grumpy but significantly less so

All in all, your little family is far from perfect, yeah

But you wouldn’t change it for the world

Neither would Amy or Frank

Well, at least not until Frank finds out about the goldfish in the bathtub

But you’ll worry about that later!

[chaneajoyyy]

Hey y’all I wanted to make it easier for you to read fics/find some dope writers to follow.  This will be updated over time. 

Banner by the lovely @just-peachee​

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https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/612943873620295680/hi-im-sorry-to-bother-you-but-i-saw-others-asking

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/190544989330/im-looking-for-a-tchalla-fic-he-and-the-reader

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/184737018165/oh-no-my-good-sis-it-wasnt-that-one-it-only-had

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/183976943125/yoooo-there-was-a-fic-in-progress-about-tchalla

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/622622696285585408/i-just-saw-a-tchalla-okoye-fic-and-now-i-cant

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/634539664309633025/hiiii-do-you-know-the-tchalla-x-reader-x (with Chadwick)

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/631991031791009792/hey-librarian-i-dont-even-know-if-this-is-a

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/665936594085281792/hi-is-the-fan-fic-librarian-still-here-looking

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/679029534341890048/hi-theres-this-fanfic-i-started-last-summer-but

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/684920490516758528/heyyy-do-you-know-any-fics-where-tchalla-gets

ERIK ‘ KILLMONGER’ STEVENS

ERIK X READER FIC RECS #1

ERIK X READER FIC RECS #2

SMUT/ANGST OR FLUFF/SMUT REC LIST #1

***AU!ERIK FIC RECS

MORE LIKE MOVIE ERIK FIC RECS

SOULMATE!AU ERIK REC LIST

SOFTBOI!ERIK FLUFF AND SMUT

PLUS SIZE READER X ERIK

PLUS SIZE READER X ERIK REC LIST #2

ANGST REC LIST #1

ANGST REC LIST #2

ANGST REC LIST #3

COMPLETED STORIES REC LIST

COMPLLETED ERIK/MBJ FICS REC LIST #2

COLLEGEBOI!ERIK REC LIST #1

DAD!MONGER REC LIST #1

VAMPIRE!ERIK REC LIST 

READER MAKES ERIK MAD AND/OR TRIES TO MAKE IT UP TO HIM FIC RECS

SOFTBOI!ERIK HELPING/LOVING READER THROUGH HER DEPRESSION

FIRST TIME/VIRGIN!ERIK FIC RECS

DOM!ERIK/SUB!ERIK

FWB!ERIK, FLING!ERIK, EX-FLING!ERIK FIC RECS

DOUBLE CHEEKED UP!ERIK FIC RECS

FICS ABOUT ERIK’S KELOIDS REC LIST

FATHER’S DAY REC LIST

ERIK & HIS GIRL RECORDING THEMSELVES HAVING SEX REC LIST

BEST FRIEND!ERIK AND COLLEGEBOI REC LIST

ERIK X SHY!READER REC LIST

PROFESSOR!ERIK REC LIST

MESSAGE THERAPIST!ERIK REC LIST

COUNTRYBOI/SOUTHERNBOI!ERIK REC LIST

SUPERNATURAL!ERIK FICS

ERIK X FAKEWIFE/GF REC LIST

ERIK KILLMONGER/ADONIS CREED RESEMBLENCE FICS

MOB BOSS!ERIK REC LIST

NOT PLUS SIZE/SIZE SPECIFIC!READER X ERIK REC LIST

ERIK BEING TURNED ON BY READER BEING A GOOD MOTHER REC LIST

INDIVIDUAL STORY SEARCH  RECS

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/614587868507193344/hey-do-you-know-the-series-where-the-reader-ends

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/619391412379746304/hiii-i-was-wondering-if-you-knew-of-this-fic-erik

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/190615531955/oh-great-librarian-ive-come-in-search-of-a-tale

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/610887917505855488/do-you-know-the-fic-where-yn-is-a-therapist-and

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/622309111867047936/do-you-know-where-i-can-read-elevator-bae

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/610967212943196160/series-when-erik-is-dangling-her-off-a-building-as

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/614399412616216576/hello-do-you-know-who-wrote-whole-ass-parents

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/614307739617853440/hello-erik-and-reader-in-a-toxic-relationship

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/190518818480/what-happened-to-the-writer-of-ember

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/190467999310/im-so-upset-because-i-was-reading-the-erik-fic

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/190431450555/happy-birthday-can-you-help-me-find-a-fic-its

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/190411295040/heyyyy-im-looking-for-an-erik-fic-where-hes-a

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/190225216945/hi-sorry-to-bother-im-looking-for-this-erik-fic

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/190146388885/hey-im-look-for-a-fic-where-erik-is-a-tattoo

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/190146140850/hey-madam-librarian-i-read-a-fic-a-while-back

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/190041262440/niaaaaa-help-me-please-im-trying-to-remember

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/189324965255/miss-fandom-librarian-do-you-remember-who-wrote

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/188914913640/who-wrote-the-fic-insecure

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/188769187095/hi-im-the-anon-from-brownsugar-do-you-know

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/188509819715/hey-babe-im-trying-to-find-an-old-fic-with-erik

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/189901475655/hey-librarian-i-need-help-looking-for-a-fic-its

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/189884018890/hi-i-need-help-finding-a-fic-i-cant-remember-if

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/189533778670/i-need-your-help-plug-he-convinced-his-best

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/186854726615/do-you-know-who-is-writing-computer-blue-for-the

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/186825030975/oh-great-wakandan-librarian-do-you-know-where-i

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/186729749500/hey-there-i-wanted-to-know-if-you-could-help-me

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/186569537405/this-is-the-last-fic-im-going-to-ask-you-about

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/185870562115/hi-i-was-wondering-if-you-could-help-me-find-a

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/185826170115/do-you-know-the-fic-where-erik-is-best-friends

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/185735265865/hey-girl-im-trying-to-remember-the-name-of-the

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/184786370135/hello-to-my-favorite-librarian-i-was-reading-a

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/184740073120/ok-sis-i-need-your-lovely-amazing-help-again

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/184786413145/hey-girl-do-you-know-who-wrote-a-story-about-erik

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/184582263215/yoooo-miss-pretty-librarian-do-you-know-the-fic

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/184480851870/hi-ms-librarian-i-hope-your-day-is-going-good

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/184613109260/so-ms-black-anther-librarian-can-you-please-help

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/184682353790/did-you-ever-find-a-good-killmonger-meets

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/184284895690/hey-sis-im-sorry-to-bother-you-but-ive-been

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/184283334960/hello-how-are-you-doing-today-i-need-a-little

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/184250375355/hey-sweets-i-wanted-to-know-if-you-knew-of-a

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/184148534340/hello-you-beautiful-soul-i-need-some-help-i-was

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/183382343995/do-you-remember-who-wrote-that-fic-where-erik-was

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/183382619250/hi-do-you-know-who-a-story-where-the-reader-was

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/183351628335/hey-i-was-hoping-you-could-help-me-do-you-know

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/183522031120/hey-i-know-your-like-the-black-panther-fandom

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/183348815165/please-please-please-tell-me-youve-found-that-fic

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/623741462539075584/do-you-know-the-story-where-reader-and-erik-are

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/624890792298856448/hey-do-you-know-who-wrote-the-fic-about-erik-and

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/625394981188829184/heeeeey-hope-youre-doing-okay-i-was-wondering

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/624480689517166592/hi-love-dont-mean-to-be-an-inconvenience-but-i

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/625174681693175808/hey-babe-im-looking-for-this-erik-x-mbaku-x (with m’baku)

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/625079272151908352/do-you-happen-to-know-if-a-fic-the-has-erik

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/624137511983267840/sigh-sis-im-about-to-literally-snatch-my-wig

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/634349632862961664/hi-im-pretty-sure-you-have-answered-this

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/622496695201251328/hey-sis-girl-im-bored-af-since-the-semester

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/663169177097535488/hi-im-looking-for-a-fic-from-long-ago-do-you

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/665936594085281792/hi-is-the-fan-fic-librarian-still-here-looking

Be Careful Sweetheart series

No Mercy

Return The Favor series

The Kompund/Poly!Erik

Your Only Fan Series

Dr. Erik x SugarBaby!Reader series

Illuminate series

Catching His Eye series

Out of My League series

Split series

Me and Mr. Stevens series

Forbidden series

Insecure series

Foul Play series

The Lion and His Lamb series

Reader, Erik and Mini series

M’BAKU

M’BAKU REC LIST #1

M’BAKU REC LIST #2

M’BAKU FIC LIST #3

M’BAKU WRITERS REC #1

DAD!B’AKU/BABA!BAKU REC LIST

PLUS SIZE READER X M’BAKU REC LIST

SOFTBOI!M’BAKU HELPING/LOVING READER THROUGH HER DEPRESSION REC LIST

ANGST REC LIST #1 

ANGST REC LIST #2

M’BAKU SMUT REC LIST

FLUFF WITH M’BAKU

HALLOWEEN REC LIST

INDIVIDUAL FICS SEARCHES

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/612697715565101056/dummmbbbbb-question-but-who-wrote-the-jabari-fic

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/611537448445640704/tumblr

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/190993345455/do-you-know-who-wrote-a-smut-fic-about-reader

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/189965036525/hey-girly-i-hope-your-holiday-went-well-i-know

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/188505804230/hello-my-dear-how-are-ya-could-you-help-me

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/185870562115/hi-i-was-wondering-if-you-could-help-me-find-a

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/184309351335/siiss-im-looking-for-2-fics-one-is-where-erik

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/183822091500/hey-mama-one-of-my-friends-asked-me-to-find-a

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/623323793712201728/so-i-saw-that-you-helped-someone-locate-a-certain

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/622211605046935552/whalee-hello-friend-i-have-two-obscure-thoughts

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/624738779902738432/well-hello-there-fic-librarian-i-was-hoping-that

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/665936594085281792/hi-is-the-fan-fic-librarian-still-here-looking

Tradition series

OKOYE 

OKOYE X READER REC LIST

W’KABI

W’KABI FIC RECS

N’JOBU

N’JOBU REC LIST

DEFENDING JACOB

ANDY BARBER

INDIVIDUAL FIC SEARCHES

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/661822073436504064/hi-there-would-you-happen-to-know-who-wrote-the

CREED FANFICTION

ADONIS CREED

COMPLETED SERIES REC LIST

ON MY BLOCK FANFICTION

OSCAR ‘SPOOKY’ DIAZ

FAVES FOR OSCAR ‘SPOOKY’ DIAZ

MAYANS M.C. FANFICTION

MAYANS X BLACK!READER REC LIST

LOVECRAFT COUNTRY FANFICTION

ATTICUS FREEMAN

ATTICUS REC LIST

THEY CLONED TYRONE FANFICTION

FONTAINE 

FONTAINE REC LIST

RPF FANFICTION

CHUBBY/PLUS SIZE!READER REC LIST

BLACK WRITERS WHO WRITE FOR BLACK CELEBS/MEN 

BLACK WRITERS WHO WRITE FOR BLACK CELEBS/MEN (PT 2)

BLACK WRITERS WHO WRITE FOR BLACK CELEBS/MEN (PT 3)

BLACK WRITERS WHO WRITE FOR BLACK CELEBS/MEN (PT 4)

CHADWICK BOSEMAN

CHADWICK REC LIST #1

INDIVIDUALS FIC SEARCH

Southern Hospitality series

YAHYA ABDUL-MATEEN II

YAHYA FIC REC LIST #1

INDIVIDUAL FIC SEARCH

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/618820263355809792/omg-can-you-please-help-me-find-a-fic-i-cant

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/666977540618027008/could-you-help-me-locate-the-one-shot-imagining

TREVANTE RHODES

TREVANTE FIC REC LIST #1

SMUT REC LIST

INDIVIDUAL FIC SEARCH

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/613591951542042624/pls-sis-help-me-find-the-fic-its-trevantae-rhodes

MICHAEL B. JORDAN

MICHAEL B. JORDAN X READER LIST REC LIST #1

COMPLETED STORIES REC LIST

INDIVIDUAL FIC SEARCH

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/185799445355/hi-do-you-know-the-doc-where-its-mbj-and-hes

Y’LAN NOEL

Y’LAN FIC REC LIST #1

CHRIS EVANS

CHRIS EVANS FIC REC LIST #1

CHRIS EVANS FIC REC LIST #2

CHRIS EVANS X BLACK!READER REC LIST

CHRIS EVANS SMUT REC LIST

MOB!CHRIS REC LIST

INDIVIDUAL FIC SEARCHES

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/667154029557825536/do-you-recall-a-fic-maybe-a-three-part-series

FLORIAN MUNTEANU

SMUTTY FIC LIST#1

INDIVIDUAL FIC SEARCHES

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/623999123413254144/the-second-one-is-a-florian-munteanu-fic-it-was-a

LUKE JAMES

LUKE JAMES FICS OR IMAGINES

ALDIS HODGE

INDIVIDUA L FIC SEARCHES

HENRY CAVILL

HENRY CAVILL X BLACK!READER/OC

CHRIS HEMSWORTH

CHRIS HEMSWORTH X BLACK!READER REC LIST

CHRIS HEMSWORTH X BLACK!READER REC LIST #2

RYAN COOGLER 

RYAN COOGLER REC LIST

JAKE GYLLENHAAL

JAKE GYLLENHAAL REC LIST

HARRY STYLES

BLACK WIRTERS REC LIST

STERLING K. BROWN

STERLING K. BROWN REC LIST

LEWIS TAN

FAVE LEWIS FICS/REC LIST

WINSTON DUKE

WINSTON DUKE REC LIST

IDRIS ELBA

INDIVIDUAL FIC SEARCH

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/663057490947309568/i-need-some-help-finding-a-story-i-was-reading-a

KOFI SIRIBOE

INDIVIDUAL FIC SEARCH

https://chaneajoyyy.tumblr.com/post/649569552443867136/do-you-know-of-any-kofi-fics-after-the-streets

TOM HOLLAND

TOM HOLLAND X BLACK!READER FICS

SIR LEWIS HAMILTON

SIR LEWIS HAMILTON REC LIST

KEITH POWERS 

KEITH POWERS REC LIST

SINQUA WALLS

SINQUA WALLS REC LIST

[imetyouonljpodcast]

I MET YOU ON LJ: A Fandom Podcast

Episode #049: Tournament of the Fake Dads

Fire up the grill! This week, Maggie and V explore the wondrous topic of great father figures and surrogate-dad characters in the media they love: Jim Hopper, Frank Castle, Dr. Alan Grant, Sirius Black, and Din Djarin/Mandalorian (with some honorary special mentions like Tony Stark, Mr. Feeny, and Geralt of Rivia). They tell bad jokes! They make cheeseburgers! They fix your problems, kind of! Hats off to the father figures who make our favorite characters' lives brighter. Plus, Maggie has an existential crisis and V loves television.

This Episode Covers…

fandom • fanfiction • jim hopper • eleven • stranger things • frank castle • amy bendix • the punisher • the mandalorian • grogu • sirius black • harry potter • dr. alan grant • jurassic park • mental health • depression • loss of children • competence • grill dads • the “generic father figure for a bbq” craigslist ad • anger • grief • honorable mentions: tony stark as iron man (“#iron dad”) and geralt of rivia • mr. feeny and mr. turner (boy meets world) • bbc ghosts • brooklyn nine-nine • covid-19 delta variant • dad jokes • cheeseburgers • dad fashion • dad energy versus d*ddy energy

LISTEN and SUBSCRIBE wherever you get your podcasts!

Make sure to follow I Met You On LJ on your favorite social media:

PATREON: patreon (dot) com/imetyouonljpodcast      

FACEBOOK: facebook (dot) com/imetyouonljpodcast    

TUMBLR: @imetyouonljpodcast​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

INSTAGRAM: imetyouonljpodcast

TWITTER: imetyouonljpod

[itsaudreyhornebitch]

Tag Game Time

Rules: Answer 30 questions and tag 20 blogs you would like to get to know better (or don’t it’s up to you!)

I was tagged by @iamacolor​, who is amazing and wonderful!

Nickname(s): Ned, Tetris (mainly by my family), Supreme Overlord (by my students), That One Teacher Who Is Always Dressing As Gandalf (by students who are not mine)

Gender: female

Sign: aries

Height: 5′4″

Time: 8:00 am

Fav band(s): The Mountain Goats, Typhoon, Catfish and the Bottlemen, Rilo Kiley, Bikini Kill, Black Flax, Phoenix, Fleetwood Mac, The Regrettes

Fav solo artist(s):  Ben Howard, Lizzo, Crimer, Sigrid, Berhana, Kendrick Lamar, Childish Gambino, ASAP Rock.

Song stuck in my head: Up the Wolves by The Mountain Goats. Always.

Last movie I saw: Wind River with my family.

Last show I watched: Dirk Gently’s Hollistic Detective Agency

When did I create my blog: Yooooo....when did I create my blog? Could I look it up? Yes. Am I too lazy to do that? Also yes! I think Fall 2011.

What do I post: Well, recently my Kastle fanfiction. Mostly fandom stuff; funny stuff; HELLA politics.

Last thing I Googled: “heels black velvet embroidery” but I don’t remember doing that, so IDK if it really counts.

Do I have any other blogs: Nah. Going down in flames spamming my main!

Do I get asks: yes! Lots! I am super bad at answering them, but I read them all and I try (I promise I do)

Why did I chose my URL: Because I would live and die for Audrey Horne

Following: over 3000. I’m too embarrassed to give an exact number, so just let it be known...over 3000

Followed by: 982 (but i lose a bunch every time i post about wanting to low-key murder betsy devos)

Average hours of Sleep: 8. I’m a teacher. I cannot do any less.

Lucky number: I MAKE MY OWN LUCK IN THIS BITCH OF A WORLD!

Instruments: still rocking out to hot cross buns on my recorder and nobody is gonna stop me

What I am wearing: boxers and a t-shirt with cool jesus on it (he’s drinking a martini)

Dream job: my current job! i teach high school english in an inner-city school (no--not like michelle pfeiffer in dangerous minds or what’s her face in freedom writers)

Dream trip: uh, i traveled a lot in my youth, because my dad was in oil. so i’ve been most everywhere i wanted to go. i’d like to go back to greece and visit my old host family one day!

Fav food: gotta rep those ATX breakfast tacos!

Nationality: american

Fav song: "Damn these Vampires” by The Mountain Goats

Last book I read: "Fresh Complaint” by Jeffrey Eugenides; also at the same time was reading “The Universal Harvester” by John Darnielle (so god damn motherfucking good)!

Top 3 fictional universes I wanna join: uuuuuh....something without a lot of stress. so maybe just a bunch of sitcom universes. like community. or infinite jest!!!

hello buuuuddies! sorry if you’ve already been tagged--ignore me: @ecsandoh, @skasis, @fiphigenie @frank-castle-loves-karen-page, @frank-kastle, @nxtyourfirstrodeo, @kastleandcoffee (yo! how the hell am i supposed to know 20 people?! i’m a loser and nobody talks to me!)

[howlingbarnes]

Rooftop Rendezvous

Characters - Frank Castle x Reader

Word Count - 1264

Warnings - Lanuage, Mentions of murder

A/N - Fulfilling a req! I’ve never written Frank before so I decided to keep it simple. 

You were well acquainted with your target. He was a murderous piece of shit that was way too far past his expiration date. There were far too many innocent lives lost with their blood soaking into the pores of his filthy fucking hands. Finally, it was all going to come to an end.

The plan was all thought out. Your traps were set, and you knew exactly where you needed to be to take the shot. The weight of the guns in your duffel were no match for the determination you had coursing through your veins. It was almost without effort that you leapt and bounded from one rooftop to another. You knew where you were going, where your shot would fire off and take out that son of a bitch; your spot.

Everything went so fast when your feet hit the right rooftop. You dropped your bag and turned your head to see a figure running toward you at full speed. Just like that, you were on your back. The stars in the sky twinkled before your eyes as you assessed the damage your body had taken from the blow. A part of you wanted to stay there and enjoy the relaxing silence. To take a moment to finally breathe and forget about the horrors of Hell’s Kitchen, but you knew that you needed to turn your defenses back on. In a swift motion, you were back on your feet, and focused.

“You asshole, I almost choked on my gum!” You shouted at the looming shape in the dark before loudly snapping the gum in your mouth.

Judging by what you could make out, it was a man. A tall, brooding man with a heavy air of intimidation looming around him like a rain cloud hanging over his head. If you had anything left to live for, you’d be shitting your pants but it was quite the opposite. Though there was a smirk tugging at your lips, the gun pointed straight at your head did nothing more than piss you off. This guy was wasting your time, putting you behind schedule.

“You keep pointing that gun at me, better be ready to use it or die.”

“I’m always ready.” A gruff voice called back to you.

“For which one?”

“Both.” There was no hesitation, and the level of confidence let you know that he was serious.

“I'll tell you right now, if you're working with them,” You pointed at a parking lot in the distance, where gang members were filling out of black cars with heavily tinted windows. “Death's your only option.”

“You're pretty damn feisty.” The man replied, clearly not intimidated in the least, maybe more amused than anything. “Looks like we got the same objective tonight.”

Your eyes were adjusting to the dark a bit and you were finally able to make out his face. Big ass ears and a nose you were sure had been broken at least thirteen times. He had a few cuts and bruises littering his skin but he still managed to maintain that rugged, sexy, bad boy look. After giving him a once over, your attitude came right back into play.

“I don’t play well with others.”

“Well, neither do I sweetheart. But I’m not goin’ anywhere and I see you aren’t either.” He motioned in your direction as you pulled open your duffel and started unpacking, ignoring your new distraction.

You'd planned for too long to lose everything because of one man. After silently setting up your rifle with speed and expert precision, you felt your eyes roll on their own accord at the sound of a faint whistle. Without a second thought, you pierced one of the gang members right between the eyes. He was on the roof, so you knew he was a good target. It'd be awhile before anyone found him.

“You military?” The man asked as if he already knew the answer, clicking his teeth when you shook your head. “Army brat.”

“Navy brat, asshole.” You clarified, not bothering to look up from your scope. The irritation in your voice didn't waver while you spoke. “My dad was a proud, old man that was taken out by a group a punks that value money more than life. If I'd been here, they wouldn't have made it past the threshold.”

“What about your mom?” He asked from behind his own scope.

“Gone, just after I was born.”

“Tough break, kid.” His tone held a sincerity that almost made you pull away from your rifle.

“Everyone loses people. It’s sad because you want to know them more, and it’s not because - you don’t.” You shrugged, firing of another shot, dropping another body. “What about you? What's your name?”

“Frank Castle.” He answered as if it were supposed to mean something to you. The lingering silence between the two of you made him pull back and look your way in disbelief. “You don't know who I am?”

“If you're not on my list then I'm not payin’ you no mind.” You shrugged. “Do you wanna be on my list Frank Castle?”

“No ma'am,” He chuckled. “It's just that the fuckin Punisher is all they bother talking about these days on the news these days, like there ain't real shit going on outside their doors. I'm cleaning up these streets, they should be thanking me.”

Something hit you when he said Punisher. It was like everything clicked all at once; all the random bits in the news you'd catch in passing, the headliners you'd see on the front page, the whispers of gossip you'd hear while out grabbing yourself breakfast. Frank Castle was a man who'd lost everything in the blink of an eye. A soldier that'd never see his family again. One who was painted and labeled a monster. He was the Robin Hood of death, taking from the evil so that the innocent could live. You knew who he was, but the last thing it did was phase you.

“Are you some kinda vigilante?” Frank asked, taking your noncommittal shrug as a yes. “Why don't you wear a mask?”

“Why don’t you?” You quipped.

“I’m not afraid of people knowing who I am.”

“Neither am I.” Just as the words fall from your lips, your finger gravitated to the trigger. You knew it was time. As if Frank could read your mind, he focused his line of sight through a window at your target.

It was a moment of triumph. You watched the boss as he placed through the room, preaching to his cronies. Your internal clock, letting you know that it was down to the last seconds. Right on queue, your shrapnel bomb burst in the room and wiped out a majority of the figures in the room. You and Frank both squeezed your triggers in the same moment. It was almost hard to tell who made the kill, but at that point, it didn't even matter.

“Fuck yeah!” You exclaimed with a grin, finally relaxing to stand beside Frank. Without a word, you pushed your fist in his direction, feeling even more victorious when he reluctantly gave in and bumped his own against it. Sirens in the distance eventually pulled you from your celebration.

“You’d better scoot before they get here.” Frank gestured to the rusted, metal fire escape attached to the building.

“What about you?”

“We’re after the same thing. We’ll run into each other again, kid.” Frank sent you off with the first smile you'd actually seen on his face since he'd slammed into you on that random rooftop.

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[frankenhookersmonster]

fictober day thirteen - scary movie, dad!frank castle x reader

warnings - dad!frank castle x parent!reader, pure fluff

word count - 495

fictober masterlist - masterlist 

twitter - ko-fi

got something to say? a request or concept? speak!!! 

a/n - dad frank my betrothed

You didn’t think Gremlins was that scary. You remembered watching it when you were young, so when your daughter wanted to watch a scary movie, you figured it would be appropriate for a five year old. But it had been a while since you had seen it, and you had forgotten how terrifying a puppet can be. 

Frank didn’t seem to remember, either, a look of shock riddling his face while he held you and your child in his arms. She seemed unfazed, wearing the same stoic face she got from her dad.

By the time the movie had ended you could tell she was tired, her fist held Frank’s shirt tightly as her eyelids gave long blinks. Frank carried her off to the bathroom, helped her brush her teeth and kissed her goodnight as he tucked her in. 

When he came back to the living room he fell into your arms and laid on top of you. “Can we just sleep out here? You’re so soft, I don’t wanna move.” His words were muffled by the fabric of your shirt. “Frankie my back.” Immediately he sat up, stretching a bit and rubbing his eyes. You made grabby hands at him, which clearly he wasn’t impressed by. “I already put our daughter to bed, now I gotta tuck you in too?” You nodded, stretching your hands out further.

With a groan Frank picked you up bridal style. You pecked his neck, giggling and swinging your feet. “Is it just me or was the movie different from what you remember?” Frank opened the bedroom door with his back. “Shit was terrifying.” He chuckled, gently resting you on the bed and adjusting the covers. “Just a bit.”

You were all comfortable, Frank had moved himself to cuddle up to your side. “Wait,” Frank mumbled, lifting himself up and looking around the room, “is it after midnight? I forgot to feed Gizmo.” You smacked his arm, making him crash down onto you. Both of you feel into a fit of laughter, trying to muffle it to not wake your daughter. It didn’t work, though, because your door creaked open and the light from the hallway flooded in. 

“Mama, Dada.” Your daughter stood in the doorframe, rubbing her eyes and holding a stuffed rabbit. Both of you sat up. “What’s up, bug? Can’t sleep?” You reached out for her, pulling her up into your lap quickly and carefully. “Bad dream.” She muttered, snuggling into your side just as Frank had before. Frank maneuvered his way closer to you, placing an arm around your shoulder and fiddling with your daughter’s hair. 

“We’ll pick a different movie next time, baby, something that’ll give you better dreams. How about that?” She nodded into your chest, closing her eyes for a much needed sleep. Frank gave both of you kisses, “In the meantime, Mama and I will keep you safe.” He looked to her for a response, but she was already fast asleep.

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[annoyingnerdsposts]

Get-up-and-go part 2

HEYYYY GUYSSSS

so part 2 is here and thanks to all the people who liked the story I wrote i really appreciate it 

also @faithm120601 asked to me mentioned so here you go :)

warnings: swearing, mentions of guns,  gun violence, mention of drugs, a little angst i guess, implied child death, mentions of human trafficking 

PLATONIC WITH A CAPITAL P 

“What?” you asked unsure if you even heard what he said properly. ”I'm the reason that building was blown up”. You adjusted yourself so you weren't laying down on the bed. Instead, you were sitting on the edge of the bed across from Frank in the same position. He looked down at the floor in silence. “Frank,” you say cautiously, “I need you to talk to me about what is going on.” 

“I’ve been hunting down these pricks for months”, he started. I tracked them down to a building in Brooklyn. Kid these guys, these guys are all kinds of bad. Drug dealers, weapons dealers, Human traffickers, that's the kind of people they are. I was gonna take those maggots down today. That building was supposed to be their place of operations. I go in and there are guards there, I take care of ‘em and move on to the next room.” He goes silent. “Frank,” you say slowly swallowing air. “What was in that room?” “It was this kid” He started, “Poor thing look terrified, and I had no idea why, Until he turned around,” He stopped. “They put a bomb on the kid”. You couldn't believe what you were hearing.

 Those sick bastards 

So I go up to the kid and take the bomb off, but when I do, it triggers some kind of count down” You looked at Frank's eyes. He was about to cry. “I threw the bomb away but it still went off, and to make matters worse, When I came too, I couldn't find the kid after”. There was a long pause after that. “Then I realized, those sick fucks knew I was coming, that was a trap. They might still be out there trying to find me, so, now we’re here.” It took you a minute to process what he was saying. Maybe it was because it was late or maybe it was the situation at hand. 

You must have zoned out because when you came back to your head, Frank was looking at you. He was inspecting your face, trying to decipher your mood by the way you squinted your eyes or moved your eyebrows. You could tell by his face that he was going nowhere. You got up and sat down next to him. You began to lean your head on his shoulder and stayed there. At first, you sat in silence. You couldn't tell if it was a comfortable silence, but it was a silence nonetheless. You began to speak “Frank, what happened to that kid was not your fault. You did what you thought could work and-” “But it didn't” he cut you off rather harshly, “An innocent child is presumed dead because of me!” he jerked up and you moved your head from his shoulder. He was standing now. “We don’t even know if the kid is dead,” you said. “The paramedics could have found him alive in the rubble, hurt, yes but alive” 

“Look” he started again.” We need to lay low until I can devise a plan to take those sons of bitch’s out,” He stopped and looked directly at you. I would send you somewhere else but let's be honest, you’ll be the safest with me”. He said.

 You were tired, beyond belief at this point and Frank finally started to pick up on it. “Ok,” he said “We both need sleep,” he said walking over to his bed. You got up and made your way to the bed. You tucked yourself “good night Frank”

“Goodnight kid”

--Next day–

It was 12 o’clock in the afternoon and you were still tired. It took a minute for the events of last night, Or was the early morning? To reset themselves into your brain. For a second you thought it was a dream. “Good morning kid” Frank said from the bathroom of the small motel. He was already getting ready for more driving, or at least you assumed as much. “Hey Frank” You said with a small smile creeping on your face. “ I made you a tea, its on your nightstand” You looked over and lo and behold there it was. Frank made you a tea every morning, he did it when you were back home in New York. And I guess being on the run isn’t going to ruin tradition. “I wanna keep driving today so drink your stuff and then, were out.” you nodded and finished your tea and you were on your way. 

But plans changed. Frank peaked outside the window and his face shifted. “Fuck” He said under his breath. “Oh my god, what now” you said already expecting the worse. Tightening your bag in your hand  “Those son’s of bitch’s from the Brooklyn building are here”

Shit.

“Kid I need you to listen to me” Frank had walked over to you. “I need you to go hide in the bathroom, If I’m not in there in 15 minutes,  you get out of here through the window, you understand”. “What about you” You said frantically “what if those guys hurt you! Frank I’m not leaving you!” You said. “I’m not asking you to do this, I’m telling you” He snarled. “I’m not letting those son’s of bitch’s lay a hand on you, you understand, I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you”. “And I can’t let anything happen to you Frank, your all I have left!”. Frank held your face in his hands, you must have been crying because you felt a drop fall from your eyes onto your cheek. “I know kid, I know” he said “that’s why I’m sorry”. “Sorry” you said with a puzzled expression “Sorry for what?”

“This.”

He pushed you into the bathroom and locked the door. “Frank!” you screamed. “FRANK LET ME OUT OF HERE!” but it was no use. You heard the door to the motel room open and the sound of multiple foot steps entering the room. Next thing you heard was gunshots, screaming, and a “run!” coming from a voice that sounded a lot like Franks.

“Check the rooms for others, word on the street is he has a child travelling with him” said a voice. “A child?” said another “what the hell would the Punisher keep a child around for?”

Fuck.

You could hear the foot steps get closer and closer to the bathroom door. You jumped on top of the toilet and through the window like Frank said. 

You ran around to the other side of the building and saw 5 men. They were all wearing masks of some kind. Two of the men were carrying frank into the back of a black van. The third one said something to the forth one and with that they left. 

845 PTY

Those were the plates on the van that took Frank. How the hell were you going to get out of this one?

 --------------------------------------------------------------------

hope you enjoy and i will be making a part 3 :)

link to part 1 

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/annoyingnerdsposts/691979933010083840?source=share

[aza-writes]

Blood Red : Chapter 13

The cycle

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF BLOOD AND VIOLENCE AND PAST SEXUAL ABUSE

Hell's Kitchen : 2016

Aleksandra's POV

The walk back to my apartment is sweet and slow. Like the walk to the coffee shop, there wasn't much talking, but it is different this time. The silence is softer and more comfortable.

Maverick's fingers keep brushing against mine, each time lingering longer. I quickly glance at him, wondering if he notices what he's doing. His eyes keep looking down at the ground, then up, then at our hands.

He's definitely doing it on purpose. Yet, I don't mind.

I move my fingers so they meet his halfway. Maverick's fingers start to curl around mine leading our hands to interlock. It takes me two seconds to realize that he's holding my hand.

He's holding my hand.

Holy shit.

He's actually holding my hand. I feel like I'm in one of the teen movies the Red Room used to be shown in our American Culture class. I'm walking with a boy, after a date, holding hands.

My apartment building comes into view and I'm dreading going home. I want to stay in this moment. Everything feels so so calming and safe. I don't have to worry about anything except for his hand and mine. The fact that this all has to end is the only thing that is making this moment sour, but it isn't enough to ruin it completely.

The doorman to my apartment looks right into my eyes and nods before opening the door for both Maverick and me. The doorman, whose name I have yet to learn, looks down at Maverick's and my hands. He doesn't display what he's thinking on his face, a trait I assume you pick up in his position of seeing all types of people who can afford whatever they want. He keeps his judgments to himself and keeps his face stoic, I can appreciate that.

The elevator doors open slowly, revealing only a young gentleman who hurries off without looking up from his phone. I drop Maverick's hand and walk into the elevator, turning around immediately so I'm able to look at Maverick. I didn't notice that Maverick has a puzzled look on his face until now. I look him in the eyes and give him a small smile, trying to make him feel better, but I'm unsure of what made him upset in the first place. I give Maverick a soft smile, trying to be kind in this situation while simultaneously trying to figure out what I did to make Maverick sad or worried.

Maverick looks back up at me and smiles back. His smile is much wider than mine, showing more teeth. He then follows me into the elevator and stands next to me. As soon as the door shuts, our hands interlock again.

I decide to break the silence, wanting to show my appreciation for tonight and that I do have feelings for him, I'm just unsure of what they are. "Thank you for the nice night and the coffee."

"Of course." He turns his head to look me in the eyes. "Thank you for saying yes."

Maverick's eyes shift away from my eyes to my lips, then back to my eyes. His mouth opens, about to say something but the elevator ding cuts him off, and the doors open to my floor.

He walks me to my apartment, our hands still intertwined, and the walk becomes silent again. I don't mind the silence, it's comforting with him. It's peaceful.

Maverick stands to my side as I unlock my door, letting go of my hand. The way he lets go of my hand is completely different from the way I let go of his. He lowers our hands down together and pulls away his palm, then his fingers while having them linger for a moment, then he gently set his hand back to his side. I, on the other hand, just dropped his. I wouldn't have understood the difference if someone just explained it to me, but feeling how Maverick let go compared to the way I did it just added to the description of him; soft.

"I'm sorry for dropping your hand earlier." I keep my head down and focused on the doorknob. "I didn't mean it like that."

He quickly replies, "Don't worry about it." His voice is sincere. "I know what you meant." I move my eyes to meet his, his eyes show that he means it.

He chuckles to himself softly and shakes his head a bit. I show the confusion on my face as I chuckle with him.

"What is it?" My voice is light, the same way it was at the café.

"Can I kiss you?" He almost doesn't believe the words he's saying as if his mind didn't approve before they came out.

I almost don't believe what he's saying. My mind can't come up with words to reply to him. I don't know what else to do besides nod.

Maverick's smile widens a bit before he brings his left hand to my cheek. He looks into my eyes again before leaning and pulling me a bit closer and kissing me. I've been in this situation before, I know what to do. I've been trained on this. This isn't a movie, it won't end here.

I open my door and slip my tongue into his mouth a bit. Although my actions aren't hesitant, my mind is. I don't want to have sex tonight, but he wants to so I have to.

When my tongue hits Maverick's lips his eyes open and he pulls away.

Fuck, I did something wrong. Did I not slide my tongue in enough? Maybe he's a guy who needs to be in control of the whole situation. Fuck I should have known.

"Hold on," I turn around and start to lock my door back up, wanting to be ready for anything he has planned. "I don't have to go to work for another few hours, we can go anywhere you w-"

"H-hold on." His tone shows that he's shocked about the situation, but it isn't from anger, instead, it's confusion. "I don't understand what you mean."

"Well, you kissed me."

As if a switch has been hit, his cheeks turn bright red. "Y-yeah-yes I did. I did kiss you." His eyes widen again. "Did you not want me to? Shit, I'm so sorry Aleksandra, I didn't mean to force you. I'm so sorry."

I shake my head to get him to stop rambling for one second. "It's my fault. I should've known you wanted to have sex at a hotel or something instead of my apartment. We can go there if you would like."

"Sex?"

"Yes, sex. You kissed me and sex follows kissing."

"I-I don't want to have sex with you tonight."

I can feel the air leave my body. This has never happened before. A strange laugh escapes my lips, I wasn't even aware I was going to do it until after it happened. Shock and relief fill my brain.

"I-I don't mean to be rude but I just wanted to kiss you."

"You just wanted to kiss me? Nothing else?" Tears threaten to escape my eyes. They aren't from sadness. There's so much relief in this situation that I'm unsure of what to do.

"I'm sorry Aleksandra." He digs around in his pocket and pulls out a small cross. "I'm Catholic and I know it's considered unrealistic and old-fashioned now but I want to wait until I'm married. It's something my mother always wanted for me and now that she's gone I want to fulfill every wish she had for me."

His reason didn't matter to me, it's what he's doing that's so important.

He didn't want to have sex with me. He didn't ask me out for my body.

"I'm so sorry. I don't want to force you to do anything you don't want to do and I don't wanna do this tonight. I'm so sorry for confusing you."

The laugh leaves my lips again, and a small smile follows it. "I don't want to have sex tonight either."

"Oh. You don't?"

I shake my head. I'm scared that if I continue to speak that I will end up crying, yet I don't have control over the words coming out of my mouth. They just come. "I've always been taught to have sex with men, I didn't know you could kiss someone without having sex."

Maverick's face drops a bit. Without saying a word, he picks up my hands and just holds them. His thumbs create small circles on the back of my palm. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

My lip starts to quiver. My eyes start to hurt from the strain of holding back my tears for so long.

"I will never make you do something you don't want to. If you ever feel like I'm pressuring you, tell me and I'll stop right away. I don't want to hurt you."

I don't want to hurt you.

No one has ever said that to me in that tone.

He isn't threatening me, he's telling me.

Maverick Lucius doesn't want to hurt me.

I finally get the courage to look into his eyes. They're glossed over with tears, making him look even softer than before. "Thank you." My voice is just above a whisper, if I go any higher my tears will fall without me wanting them to.

The corners of his lips raise as he brought my right hand to them. He places a small kiss on the back of my hand and then gently lowers my hand to my sides.

"I have to go to a meeting with Leland, but I'll call you in the morning." He lets go of my left, keeping my right in his grasp. Although the rest of him appeared soft, his hands are calloused like mine. "I had an amazing time tonight Aleksandra."

"I enjoyed it too." A true, genuine smile grows on my face. I want him to know that I'm happy to be here in this moment with him. I'm happy about going with him tonight. I'm happy right now.

"Goodnight Aleksandra."

"Goodnight Maverick."

He smiles at me one last time before carefully putting my hand down again. I watch him walk into the elevator before turning back to my door and going into my apartment. Maverick was the contrast in my day. Last night was blood, the morning was lying and manipulation and this afternoon was sweat and training, but Maverick was peaceful. I can't help but feel a bit upset that the peace had to end, but the feeling is quickly replaced with excitement for what I was about to do. Because now it's time for the cycle to start over: now it's time for blood.

------

"This doesn't have to be this hard." Wesley's voice echoes throughout the small, empty basement. "Just tell us who you told." A devilish smirk grows on his face as he gestures behind him. "Well, who else you told."

I keep my eyes forward at the man tied to the chair, resisting the urge to look to my right and see the girl lying almost dead on the ground. He'll be dead soon, but for now, he's alive until we get what we want from the rat.

Wesley starts to pace around the man in the chair. I think his name is "We know you said his name, Ernest, just tell us who all you told."

Ernest Basseri, a new and very, very low employee to Mr. Fisk. He washes cars, takes out the trash, and shines shoes and junk. He only knows Mr. Fisk's name because he works at meetings Fisk attends. He had a good thing going; protection, nice pay, a chance to rise in the rankings, and the first pick of apartments and cars, yet he still managed to fuck it up.

Ernest shakes his head no, well kind of. His head is drooped down, neck limp. The movement is very subtle, but it's there.

Wesley straitens up and fixes his tie. "Hm? Nothing? Okay." He looks up at me, that's all it takes.

I turn around and look at the table behind me. An abundance of weapons is sprawled out on the grey foldout table. I run the steps of interrogation through my head. Freezing water, check; hurting someone he cares about, check; hitting him in pressure points, check. Busting his kneecaps is next. Perfect.

I grab the crowbar and twirl it around a bit, earning an eye roll from Wesley but it doesn't bother me in the slightest. I won't let him ruin my fun. I get to torture someone the exact way I was taught, Dreykov would be so proud of me.

I move in front of Ernest and turn to the side a bit to get the perfect angle for the most impact. His head is still limp with shallow breaths. A little smirk grows, concealed by my mask. I lift the crowbar with my right hand and immediately bring the curve of the bar down to his right kneecap. His silence was broken as he unleashes a horrifying scream; the kind that horror actors spend their whole lives trying to perfect. My heart skips a beat when I hear it. This is the best part of the job, the screams of terror, the room filled with the smell of blood, red clouding my vision, it's perfect. Wesley's enjoying this too. He has a small smirk similar to mine, but his is from pride instead of lust.

"Come on Ernest." Wesley nods at me again, signaling me to move on to the next part of our plan. "This doesn't have to go on any longer." I grab the poor girl, Ernest's girlfriend, off the floor, and hold her close to my chest. I pull out my knife from its holster and hold it to her throat. "Do you have to put this poor girl through all this pain? Because of you're stupidity, she has to die." The girl tries to yell, scream, fuck she's trying to whisper, but all that she can muster is a small groan. "Unless you tell us who else you told." Wesley pulls Ernest's hair up and leans in close to his ear. "Even if you don't tell us, we'll find them and their punishment will be worse than death." Again, wait a few seconds. Nothing.

I start to move my knife across the girlfriend's throat, I think her name is Maddie. A loud, horrific scream escapes her throat.

"MY ROOMMATE!"

The room goes silent and I pull my knife away slightly, still making contact but not drawing. blood.

Ernest is shaking and his eyes pool with tears. "I-I told my roommate."

"What's his name?" There's a long silence that followed. I can't tell if it's because Ernest is trying to catch his breath or if he decided to become a слабак (wimp.)

Wesley isn't too fond of Ernest's silence either. His impatience growing by the second. "WHAT IS YOUR ROOMMATE'S NAME?"

"N-" Ernest spits out blood. "Nolan Baumann. I-I didn't mean to though, he didn't do anything wrong. It was before I knew the rules." His voice is now fast and frantic, trying to spare his friend's life as well as his own. All Wesley does and write down the name and look at me again.

Nolan Baumann became my task for the night, and I get to make an example out of him.

That means no rules, and no holding back.

I can do whatever I want.

"Thank you Mr. Basseri. That is all." Wesley's voice is calm and relaxed. I never thought I would say this but I fucking love that tone right now. If I was speaking I would do the same thing. False hope is very powerful, it makes this whole situation more enjoyable; for us at least.

"T-that's it? I can go now?"

There it is, the false hope.

Wesley takes long strides as he walks around to face Earnest, letting the hope sit for a moment. It's nice seeing his dead eyes start to light up.

An evil grin takes over Wesley's face. "Go to what? Home? Go to your roommate who you just sold out? Or to the police who will never believe your story?" Wesley lets out a sinister chuckle. "What would you tell them? An infamous Russian assassin beat you up? Better yet, why don't you go back home with your little whore girlfriend, who cheats on you every night, while you hire the most expensive prostitutes and not have to pay them because you work for my employer?" A horrific look is on Ernest's face while Wesley looks like a kid in a candy store. "No, no you may not."

In one swipe, Maddie's throat sprays blood all over Ernest's face and the side of Wesley's jacket. Ernest's screams echo throughout the room as I let Maddie's lifeless body collapse to the ground. My eyes dilate and I take a long, deep breath. I want to giggle like a kid, fuck I almost do.

The smell of her blood takes over my mind, my body itching for more of it. The smell isn't enough right now, I need to taste it, snort it, fucking bathe in it. I need all of it in its glory. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought this moment was a religious experience, that I was meeting God himself.

Wesley displays a sick smile on his face that matches the one under my mask. I imagine he gets the same twisted pleasure from this but he is more psychological, mine is chemical.

I watch Ernest bawling his eyes out. Honestly don't understand why he's so upset about his whore girlfriend, he cheated on her constantly and again, and his girlfriend was a major bitch.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to be at a meeting with my employer. Ernest, you showed promise. You were eager to please, but look where that got you." Wesley fixes his suit and opens the thick, metal door that led to a cement hallway. "Aleksandra, make sure he doesn't say our employer's, name again, and don't be late."

Although Wesley is speaking to me, I keep my back to him. I keep my eyes fixed on Ernest, savoring this moment. I haven't been able to interrogate people like this in so long.

"P-please let me out. Come on, you don't want to do this. You're just a kid." He pleads and pleads, but it won't do anything. He's my job, he brought this on himself.

I don't entertain him with a response, he doesn't deserve it. I take my mask off. I want this idiot to see my face before I kill him. I want him to see my joy in his suffering. I slide the table over in front of Ernest, enjoying the scraping noise that increased the tension. I like playing this out, stretching the fear, breaking Ernest further and further. It's euphoric.

I walk around Ernest's chair getting into position for what I'm going to do.

"Please, please. Aleksandra? Right? T-that's your name?" He pauses, does he think I'll answer? Fuck, he really is an idiot. "Please, I can help you get out! I can save you from Fisk-"

I slam my hands down on the table, halting Ernest's pleas. "We don't say his name." My voice is calm, I don't have a reason to feel anything besides calm. I'm in complete control.

"I'm sorry! I'm so fucking sorry! Please, please help me!" His pleas are weightless, he doesn't deserve help. He broke the rules, now there are consequences.

I grab his jaw and squeeze it together, leading him to open his mouth. His eyes start to water and his body shakes. I hold it open as I grab his tongue out of his mouth and pull it across the table. In a clean, fluid motion, I grab the knife out of my holster and plunge it through his tongue and into the table. Blood spurts out of his mouth and he tries to scream in pain.

This isn't enough though. His tongue will heal, I need more. Fisk needs more. Ernest continues to shake and cry like a fucking baby. I'm over it, why is he crying? He knew what would happen if he said our employer's name. He fucked himself. He brought this on himself. d

He's on my last nerve, so fuck it. Without a second thought, I hold the table down with my hands and kick him backward with my left leg.

Riiiiiiiiipppppppppp

Blood gushes out of his mouth as half of his tongue is laying in front of me on the table while the other half dangles from his mouth. He tries to mumble something, but with his tongue cut off it sounds like a bunch of random noises an infant makes. His hands and legs are tied to the chair leaving him flat on his back thrashing around in the chair.

He looks pathetic, like a turtle laying on its back. I don't know if I should laugh at him or pity him.

His screams and half pleas are starting to get annoying. I walk over and pull his chair up so he's back in a sitting position. His face is red along with his eyes. Blood is flowing out of his mouth.

Blood.

Oh, fuck me.

He doesn't have to live, his death doesn't even have to look like an accident. I can rip him to shreds.

My throat goes dry and my heart rate spikes. I can hear my heartbeat thumping in my ears. His grunts are muffled as I gulp. I take my gloves off and start to pet Ernest's hair. The world goes black and white except for the blood.

The blood.

The red is so vibrant it's hurting my eyes. It's glowing off of his face. I touch it with the tip of my index finger, hold it up to my nose, and smell it. A million sparks fly throughout my body. An insane high takes over my body.

I need more.

I lick the blood off my finger and then off his chin. A pornographic moan escapes my lips as I go back in to lick more blood off of his face. The moan comes from pure pleasure; toe curling, body shaking pleasure. Ernest's screams stop, he half-heartedly tries to back away from me, but he's in my hands, he has nowhere to go. He's losing a lot of blood. He'll pass out; soon enough, he should die from blood loss.

What a fucking waste. Blood loss is the worse type of death, wasting something that could be used in so many ways. So many fucking beautiful ways.

I cup Ernest's face in my hands and stare into his eyes; his glorious bloodshot eyes. He trembles in complete horror; terror radiating off his face.

"You have no idea how much I enjoy this." I can't make my voice louder than a whisper, all of my energy is going into the effort of ripping Ernest to shreds in a second. Not taking over and going against the very thing Wesley, and by that Fisk, ordered me to do. He is here to send a message.

Yes, I can do what I want, but I have to keep his body intact, I have to have something to show others. I have rules to follow, and I intend to follow them.

"What did you think was going to happen when you said his name?" My eyes linger over his body as I sit him upright again. "Did you expect nothing to happen? Did you assume that the warnings were false?" I wipe off a knife from the table filled with weapons that are in every interrogation room. "Hm? Oh right," I pick up my knife from the table in front of Earnest, the tongue is still attached to it. "How rude of me." I pluck his tongue off of my knife and throw it across the room. I may have bloodlust, but I'm not a cannibal. I have some morals.

Ernest starts to let out a familiar whimper. It's the same cry every man does before he dies when he knows that his life is about to end. It's fear mixed with knowledge.

As much as to my dismay, I have to start wrapping this up. I can't be late for the meeting tonight. Unlike Earnest, I still have an employer to impress. I stare at the table filled with every weapon imaginable. Everything I've ever been trained to use was right in front of me. Fisk knew me well, he knew I wouldn't want to be confined to one weapon.

He gave me a choice.

Earnest continues to tremble, his life is in my hands.

And now his death.

I pick up a long, jagged knife and twirl it in my hands. Ernest shakes his head and tries to yell something, probably begging for his life, but the absence of his tongue leaves him to wordless jumbles of noise. He sounds like a babbling infant.

I push him to the ground and straddle him, wanting him to see my eyes as I kill him.

I want to see his eyes as I kill him. I want him to feel the fear of death.

Ernest squirms and shrieks as I raise the knife into the air. His eyes swell with tears and stream out.

And just like that, the flow of tears ceases, the squeals stop, and his blood is officially all mine.

• • • • • •

Masterlists

[milkymoon2483]

Coming Of Age

Push & Pull - Episode 4 Frank Castle X Plus Size Jewish OFC

Previous episode | Series Masterlist | Next Episode

Summary: After surprising Frank in the shower, you wake up the next morning to have a difficult conversation. He needs to tell you the truth, and you realize that not all fantasies translate into reality as you expect them to.

Rating: Very much E.18+. MINORS DNI.

Warnings: Alternating POV, age gap (legal), Mentions of alcoholism, drinking, trauma, plus size reader, SMUT, P in V

WC: ~3300

Thank you my lovelies. @romanarose @hbc8 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @boysddontcry @imaswellkid @theonewheresheindulges

This is dedicated to the lovely @midnightswithdearkatytspb.

Coming Of Age

"Get dressed, we gotta talk."

He left the room before you had a chance to say anything.  Your heart sank fast, dread spreading from your abdomen into your chest. Oh god, does he hate you now? After what you did last night he must be furious.

He clearly expressed that he didn’t think it was right but you acted anyway, cornering him, leaving him no choice. At the light of day your actions seemed crude and aggressive. Was it unforgivable? Will he resent you for it? 

Shame and regret flooded you, wrapping their tentacles around your throat. You were nauseous at what you've allowed yourself to go through.  It seemed like you were only capable of embarrassing yourself in front of him, frustration getting the better of you again and again like the petulant child you obviously are. 

But, he could have refused, and he didn't, he surrendered willingly, absolving himself of responsibility. He almost seemed relieved, you could almost say he drove you to the breaking point again and again. You were just braver than him.

The memory of last night was still fresh, the weight and taste of him still lingered in your mouth. Now you were switching blame for something you both wanted so desperately, and both seemed to regret. The pang in your chest was sharp but you couldn’t decipher the emotion. Was it remorse or rejection or fear of what’s to come? Maybe they were all combined. 

You played the accusation game in your mind while pulling your clothes on. The complete safety and security you were used to around Frank were now gone. It was an unfamiliar feeling, the need to defend yourself in front of him. You didn't think you'd ever have to. Not with him. But then again you never thought you'd do what you had done. Your mind a scrambled mess, you sat on the edge of the couch, awaiting your judgment.

He wouldn’t look at you. Frank’s gaze darted around the living room. You’ve never seen him this nervous, like a caged animal hopelessly looking for a way out.

This was not going to be a pleasant conversation, ones beginning with “we need to talk” seldom are.

Your eyes never left him, searching for clues as the seconds stretched while he was still silent. Then he finally spoke.

“Han there’s something you need to know.”  He sighed heavily before continuing to speak.

"Yesterday was…shit…I can't say I didn't want it, but Han, it was wrong. It was a lapse of judgment. I shouldn't have let it happen. M'sorry."

Of course he'd say that. 

Shame settled in the pit of your stomach.  This man seemed unable to get closer to you without regretting it.  You blinked slowly, nervously biting your lip, allowing him to continue without interruptions. 

“I failed your dad.” He stated plainly, guilt painted on his face.

Frank’s heart wrenched at his own words as he forced them out one by one. After what happened, he couldn’t hide this from you any longer. “We met at AA. I was clean for a few years when he showed up. I was…I was his sponsor for a while”

He diverted his look to you, carefully attempting to gauge your reaction, only to find your face blank, your expression betraying no emotion.

“I…I wanted to help him and many times I did, cause I know that everybody deserves as many chances as they need to fight this shit.”  He took a deep breath to steady himself, running his palms over his face, wishing he could hide from you.

“Han, I gave up on him, I’m so sorry. In the end I just gave up. He was on another binge and I told him to talk to somebody else."  His look was averted to the floor, god forbid you'd see his eyes begin to pool with tears.

"Shit almost got me drinkin' again, and I just couldn't go through that. Now I regret that every day. I should have helped him, as many times as it took. I should have kept tryin'." 

There was a long silence stretched between you, until his eyes finally met yours. They were brimming with guilt, red and glossy. 

"What makes you think I didn't know?" You asked quietly

He squinted with disbelief.

"I've known about AA for years. And Deb told me what happened at the end. I don't blame you. Saul had a knack for pushing people away" 

You remained eerily calm. He expected you to cry, or scream, or storm out. This was by far so much worse.  "But it's ok, it really is…I understand"

He shook his head, brows furrowed.

"Han I'm sorry, and it's not ok. That's why I can't let anythin' happen between us" 

You bit your cheek, effectively stopping yourself from betraying your true feelings, and spoke carefully.

Frank was a great fantasy, but the reality of him was broken. The man in front of you seemed fragile and indecisive behind the facade of dignity and respectability.

Disillusionment was always going to be a part of coming of age.   

"Frank It's Ok. I'm done."

You were indeed done.  Done with humiliating yourself in front of him, done with trying to appease his guilt, done with the torture of him pushing you away just to pull you closer. That fucking game was over for you. Your frustration and helplessness festered into anger. Anger was good. It was safe.

"I'm gonna go"

You could cry at home, have your little temper tantrum away from him, wouldn't want more guilt piled up on his broad shoulders now, would you?

You closed the door behind you, not looking back at him, and crossed the street as fast as you could without running, eager to get to safety.

“FUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKKKK” you growled as soon as you crossed the threshold, hitting the wall with your fist. Anger burned in your chest, at him, at yourself, at the ghost of your shitty father.  Your nails dug crescents into your palms, the sting of it cathartic, and you pressed again and again, slowly draining the fury from your bloodstream, until only a simmer remained.

You needed to think, to remind yourself of what life looked like before you were dragged into this mess, the life you’d be returning to very soon. A sense of relief washed over you at the notion, Just a few more days and you’ll be on your way back to campus. Back to your dorms, your friends, back to what’s important.  You’ll have the lawyer deal with this, Deb will gladly help, and you won’t even have to come back. You don’t want anything to do with this place anyway. You soothed yourself, sipping on the glass of cold water you so badly needed.

Three knocks, loud and urgent, jolted you from your seat towards the door.

Frank..?!

Your eyes were wide with worry as he walked in. He nuzzled at your face, placing both palms on your cheeks. No. You shook your head, flaring your nostrils at him. Not fuckign again.  But his eyes pleaded, begged you. 

“Frank, you can’t do this to me ag..” his mouth was on yours before you could finish the sentence.

He kissed you gently at first but the press of his lips grew more urgent, dipping his tongue in, swirling it in your mouth. Kissing you like you were his lifeline, sucking the air out of your lungs. You wished you could refuse him, maybe out of spite, just like he did to you all those times, but you never stood a chance. Flames licked at your core the moment his lips touched yours. 

He was all rugged breaths and grunts, not uttering a word. He walked you back into the kitchen, until you hit the edge of the table, Hands running frantically on your body, mouth never leaving yours. 

The palpable exigency of his touch didn’t frighten you. Something snapped, and you were seeing him clearly for the first time. Unburdened by the need to hold back or restrain himself, the mask of his dignity finally slipped, revealing a man who was just as desperate as you were. 

He understood it now, your inability to stop yourself. The aching need that crawled under his skin, whispered in his ear, blinding him to reason. The moment you closed the door behind you, that’s when he realized he was only lying to himself. He tried to forget but he remembered. Your hungry eyes, your sweet words "You can have me…" Fuck. Could he? 

His fingers grazed past the edge of your top and lifted it up, breaking your bruising kiss just to pull it off. His hoodie met the same fate on the kitchen floor. Your bra followed, discarded as soon as he was able to remove it.  He nuzzled at your breasts, pressing them onto his face with his palms and breathing in your scent, like he was coming up for air. His hungry mouth sucked and pulled on the plump flesh, barely stopping himself from sinking his teeth in. God he wanted to eat you and fuck you and console you and debase you. All at the same time, with the same intensity.  The longer he tried to deny it, the stronger and more vicious the need became. He made quick work of the buttons of your jeans as he began taking them off. He lifted you up, placing you on top of the heavy table with impressive ease, pulling them the rest of the way down. You shivered as he laid you on your back, his warm palms running reverently on your goosebump covered skin. He stopped for just a second, lifting his eyes up at you, asking for permission. You nodded breathlessly as he began pulling the thin fabric of your panties down your legs.

The cool silvery light filtered through the windows, illuminating your delicate skin with a pale glow. His calloused fingers pressed into your soft flesh, greedily grabbing the meat of your hips, the swell of your breasts, all laid before him on the table like a feast for a starving man. His movements were erratic, mind silent while his body buzzed with possessiveness.  The thought of defiling you, corrupting some part of you, made his cock harder than it should have. He tried to be gentle, but the greedy beast inside of him was demanding.

His teeth grazed your jaw, as he rubbed his clothed length against your core, pinning you to the hard surface under his weight.  “I need to fuck you, honey” He whispered into your skin, and your pussy pulsed at the words, more heat pulling in between your thighs. Fuck me, fuck me untill I can’t breathe.

“Tell me to stop and I will” He rasped.

“Don't…” You shook your head, pulling him to press his lips back to yours. You felt the desperation in your tone slip from you, harder than ever to control. 

“You want me to fuck you? Hm?” He asked, almost teasing, thumb rubbing at your folds, spreading your arousal. You whimpered in response, bucking your hips at his fingers.  You thought about fucking him many times, countless even, but nothing prepared you for this. You could never conjure the smell of his sweat, the exact pressure of his calloused fingers on your cunt. 

"You know I do" you almost whined. Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his sweatpants as you rolled them down with his boxer briefs, first with your hands and then pushing them all the way down with the tips of your toes, removing all barriers between your bodies. His deliciously heavy cock dragged against your soaked folds, and he could see it now, the way your body shuddered at the touch, the aching need in your eyes. 

“You ready baby?” he asked softly. 

“Mhm…” you barely uttered 

He lined himself up and began to gently breach your entrance with shallow thrusts, slowly opening you up. The muscles in your lower belly trembled. Inch by maddening inch he sank into you, until he was buried to the hilt in your warmth.  He exhaled sharply, finally releasing the breath he was holding. So fucking soft. He couldn’t believe how soft you were, your core sleek and warm, perfectly tight around him. He couldn't have deserved this.  So fucking perfect.

He began moving, each drag of his cock in your tight warmth more addictive than the last, trying to plunge himself deeper within you with each stroke. You shared ragged breaths, clinging onto each other as your nails dug into the taut muscles of his arms. 

"M'sorry" he muttered into the crook of your neck with each slow thrust, a plea for your forgiveness. Your legs shook with the effort as you pulled him further in.  "It’s ok" you whispered back, again and again. You let him repent for his sins, absolving him from his supposed crimes. 

The pressure built steadily in your lower belly, flooding your core with more arousal, spurring you on. The stretch of him was divine, filling you to the brim as your walls fluttered around him.

His words were replaced with kisses, slow and open mouthed, from the base of your neck all the way to your ear. You could hear every breath and grunt, every strangled moan. 

His fingers intertwined with yours as he pinned your hands above your head. His movements quickened, fucking into you with everything he had. Your moans turned into whines, short and high pitched, eyes rolled back as he was hitting something within you that sent jolts of electrified tingles up your spine. 

This is what you needed, to be so thoroughly cock drunk that every rational thought was being fucked out of your mind, to sense nothing but the weight of him on top of you, to feel nothing but the pulse of your hungry cunt around him. 

He could tell you were close, and began almost grinding his hips against yours, rubbing his hip bone against your swollen clit. The pressure built and built, tilting you closer towards the edge. You were a vortex, a black hole swallowing everything in it’s surroundings ,more and more and deeper and deeper until everything paused. Your climax burst from within you, and you shook and moaned as the pleasure flooded your limbs. 

“Fuck baby..” he rasped, quickening his movements again. He raised himself , fingers digging into your hips as he pounded you, looming from above. He could see himself disappear into you, your tits bouncing with every thrust, soft beautiful curves at his fingertips, your jaw slacked and eyes shut, lost in pleasure. “Stunnin’…gorgeous girl..fuck..” he muttred as his pace began to falter, spilling himself into you with a breathy grunt.

You could feel his cock twitch, flooding your core with warmth.  For a moment everything was quiet, your releases still buzzing through you both, like an electric current running between your bodies.  Spent, you both panted as he slumped over you, supporting himself with his forearms as not to crush you. You smiled at him lazily, still drunk of pleasure, and he couldn’t help but kiss you again.  

“Shit..Han..Are you..?” He asked, panicked when he realized he came inside of you.

“Yeah, it’s ok” you reassured him. 

He pulled himself off and reached out a hand to help you up. You hissed at the ache of your body, leaning on the table, legs still wobbly and back sore from the hard surface.

“Are you ok?” He asked, concerned.

“Yeah. just a little sore” you smiled back. 

“Shit I’m so sorry, did I hurt you?” 

“For god’s sake Frank, please stop apologizing.” Your voice broke. “If you're going to tell me you regret this too, you can just leave. Because I don’t.”  You began picking up your clothes off the floor, holding the pile against your body to cover yourself up.

“Hey hey…stop that. I don’t”  His head shook.

He turned towards you, taking the pile of clothes from your hands, placing it on the table.

Gently, Frank tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before engulfing you with his solid embrace. You melted against him, clinging to his broad warmth.

Your fantasies never included this, The silence that followed. There was an awkwardness to it, coupled with a familiar comforting warmth, and you bounced between the two sensations. You didn’t know what to say, frozen in a moment you were afraid would end, making you restless and uneasy.

Fucking him was safer, more familiar at least in your mind. This was new territory and you found yourself even more unsure than before.  Sure he’s saying he doesn’t regret it now, but nothing is for certain with this man.

“um..I’m dripping. I gotta get cleaned” You had a reason to break the hug, needing a moment for yourself.

Frank could sense your unease as he released you from his arms.

You looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror, and something reminded you of that day in the pool. You were still unsure of yourself, still didn’t always like your reflection, but today you did. Kiss swollen lips, eyes rimmed with long lashes and dark circles, curves that have since become more prominent and lucious. You could see the red flush on your chest, evidence of a really strong orgasm. His hands left marks on your hips, and you hoped they would darken.

You emerged a few minutes later, wearing an oversized T shirt, looking so young all of a sudden. 

The familiar claws of regret began to creep up his back, flooding his veins with ice. You wrapped yourself back around him, soft and warm and sweet, melting the frost.

No more regrets. No more lies.

"Han, I need you to know…I wanted this. Ok?" 

"Ok" you nodded, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. 

“I wanted this too. Frank, I…you probably know”

“I do. I did, and it scared the fuck outta me, still does.”

“You're afraid of a little girl who’s got a crush on you?” you smirked

“Yeah, and for good reason, cause look at you…”  

Your chest swelled at his statement, relief bubbling in your belly. The mere thought of you holding any kind of power over him felt dizzying. This man that had captivated your deepest fantasies for years was suddenly succumbing to you. The notion was making you drunk.

He pressed soft lips on your temple and mumbled "lil’ temptress"

You stood in the kitchen for a while, embraced and silent, running cautious fingers on his bare back, until his stomach grumbled, loudly.

You both chuckled at the very obvious sound.

“Ok, I’m makin’ french toast” he exclaimed, before releasing you from his hug with a peck on your head.

He didn’t ask, just dove straight into the fridge, pulling eggs and milk and the loaf of french brioche you picked up in the bakery the day before. “That’s fancy bread” he shrugged, making you smile.

There was something lighter about him, almost cheerful, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

You weren’t surprised to find out he knew exactly where everything was, feeling completely at ease in your father’s kitchen. You slipped a few too many glances at his shirtless back and the smooth skin that stretched over the taut muscles, smirking to yourself and muttering a soft “damn” under your breath. 

 The lovely smell of melting butter came shortly after, and if you closed your eyes you could almost imagine mornings like these, with your dad and Deborah and your cousins, when things seemed very normal and mundane, even for a short while.

It was a strange mixture of the old and the new, making past memories and current sensations bleed into each other. 

Frank's presence was both comforting and intimidating. You haven't given thought to domesticity, to sitting in comfortable silence and sharing a meal. Him making you french toast after fucking on the kitchen table? That seemed as surreal as any other fantasy, but there he was.

He was hidden in a deep, secretive and shameful part of your mind, and now he was crossing the border, coming into light.

FIN. 

[milkymoon2483]

The Blue Elephant

Push & Pull - Episode 1 Frank Castle X Plus Size Jewish OFC

Series Masterlist | Next Episode

Summary: DBF but dad’s dead. Your’e going back to your small town for your father’s funeral and Shiva. You know you’re about to face family drama but what worries you the most is that you’re going to see HIM.

Disclaimers: 

This episode mentions a 14 year old girl having an UNRECIPROCATED crush on a much older man. HE SEES HER AS A CHILD at this point. 

I’m Jewish (and plus size) but I do not live in the US, so there might be some differences in the way certain things are done and some inaccuracies. My apologies. 

Yes this is self indulgent because I’m feral for this man.

I’m secular and will not be discussing Judaism in length. Will explain some basics though that are mentioned in the story.

Rating: E.18+. MINORS DNI.

Warnings: Teenage crush on a much older man, Mentions of alcoholism, divorce, trauma, plus size reader, insecurities, age gap, violence, sex, food, and probably a bunch of other stuff. This is a little dark. WC: ~3300

Thank you my lovelies. @romanarose @hbc8 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @boysddontcry @imaswellkid

The blue elephant.

Your phone rang in an ungodly hour, waking you up from a dream you had forgotten as soon as you opened your eyes.  8:15 AM. Who dares calling you this early on semester break?! 

"Hello, am I speaking to Hannah Friedman?" 

"Hi, yes, who is this?" You answered, barely recognizing your own voice that was hoarse with sleep.  

"Miss Friedman, my name's Michael Katz, I was your father's attorney. I'm very sorry for your loss. I'm calling regarding his will." 

Confusion flooded you, and for a moment you were sure the man calling had the wrong number.

Suddenly your heart dropped, the true meaning of his words not fully sinking into your skull just yet. 

"Miss Friedman….?" His voice tried to break the long pause. 

"Yeah, I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"I'm calling regarding your father's will, since he passed away…" 

"Shit. Sorry, I just…I didn't know. Shit. When did it happen?" 

Your father was dead.

Michael Katz, bless his heart, apologized profusely for the terrible way you had to find out. He proceeded to explain everything in great detail, making sure to schedule a meeting with you as soon as you got into town for his funeral. He died in the early hours of the previous evening. Cirrhosis complications after years of excessive drinking, that’s what finally did him in, a part of you was surprised he lasted that long. 54 years old at the time of his death, Saul Friedman was a sick man, and not much of a father to begin with. A recovering alcoholic at the best of times, he rarely called or took much interest in your life, despite living 45 minutes away. 

When you turned twelve things changed for the better, after bumping into you on a trip to a local supermarket with your mom and her new boyfriend, he suddenly felt an urgent need to get sober, and get to know you better. Your mother agreed, she took less convincing than both of you had anticipated. You ended up visiting more, and staying for a few weeks each summer, the community pool around the corner being your main incentive. Your relationship was never able to fully recover, but you both tried your best. You’d often say you loved him but sometimes didn’t really like him. 

Your mother was his second wife, and after three years of marriage and one kid, they divorced, very much non-amicably, leaving a trail of wreckage behind them.  You were thankful that you were just a toddler, too young to truly understand how deeply they've wounded each other clawing their way out of what your mother described to be the ‘worst three years of my goddamn life’.  You'd often wonder, had she not been jewish, would she be saved from the displeasure of ever marrying him in the first place. Your grandparents must have insisted on him having jewish children, and according to Halacha*, their mom had to be one. 

You remembered the last time you visited him, the visit was cut short when you caught him drinking again. “ You don't get to preach me” he lashed out at you,  “You’re a bitch just like your mother”. 

You left abruptly after that, not willing to take more of his crap. At that point you were visiting for him, because you felt obligated to do that. That sense of obligation was gone.

He called to apologize a few weeks later, but the dry conversation left much to be desired. Since then you’ve called and texted occasionally, but you never came to visit again, coming up with various excuses to avoid it. 

Now he was dead.

"At least he knew when to die.." you later told your best friend, Grace. He had the sensibility to pass on right at the beginning of the winter break from college, giving you a good few weeks to deal with it before coming back to school to finish your final year. You could share your appreciation for your fathers morbid timing with Grace, but there was one thing you couldn't. A thought so shameful you smacked it back to where it came from as soon as it surfaced. You refused to acknowledge it, refused to name it, there would be no talking and no thinking of him. Not right now.

It was about as effective as telling yourself not to think about a blue elephant. You kept playing the game of 'whack a mole' with your brain, and kept losing.  Your father was dead, and it took you mere seconds to realize that you’re going to see him.

Summer 2013

You looked at yourself in the water- damaged mirror, it was crooked and filled with specks of rust, large stains of disilvering ate away at your reflection. The one piece purple bathing suit was wet, clinging to your form, accentuating the awkward lumpiness of your chest and belly under the harsh fluorescent lighting. Your mother picked it out with you, from the sale rack in TJmaxx’s women’s department. That miserable shopping trip almost made you cry. Most of them did. Your adolescent body didn't look right, didn't feel right. It was all too much, too round, too full. You’d follow your much smaller mother around the shops, gradually losing hope with every one you passed, settling eventually on another trip to Starbucks. An iced vanilla latte was sure to cheer you up.  You took solace in your sunglasses, rimmed in a bright red thick frame. The ones you nagged your dad into buying you, they made you feel cool. As cool as you could, that is. A piece of 'coolness' that belonged to you. You placed them on your nose with a slight sense of pride, heading out of the bathrooms. 

Your eyes searched for him immediately, finding him lounging on one of the sun-beds. Alone. Walking as inconspicuously as you could, you sat on the bed next to him, pretending not to notice him. You dove head first into your bag, looking for your phone. don’t look at him, don't look at him. Your thoughts raced, desperately hoping that he would be the one to look at you.

You've known Frank for a couple of years, as your dad's friend and neighbor. He would often join you for Shabbat dinner, bringing a bottle of a non- alcoholic beverage or some fruit. He was younger than your dad but you weren't sure by how much.

You’ve always found him hot, it was impossible not to, with his sharp jaw and boyish smile. He was tall and broad and handsome. You nursed your little secret crush on him, getting excited and giddy every time he came to visit, not daring to mention to anyone that you even found this old man so attractive.

This, however, was the first time you’ve seen him shirtless, and your fourteen year-old self could not handle the sight. You gawked at the grown man uncontrollably, your gaze hidden only by your ‘cool’ sunglasses.  The biceps, the pecs, the broadness of his shoulders and the way his torso tapered into his waist. The dip of his spine, the muscles of his back, the way the droplets of water clung to his skin and made it glisten…it all made your brain short- circuit, melt under the fog of hormones.

“Hey kiddo, I like the sunglasses” He suddenly said, in a tone more cheerful than you’d expected.

“Thanks” you muttered. It took your poor brain a few attempts to signal your mouth to smile. You hated it when he called you ‘kiddo’. You wished it would be ‘sweetheart’ or ‘darling' or ‘doll’.

“Can I try them on?” he smirked.

You handed them to him without a word, scrunching your face at the sun. Youv'e learned that it is often better to say nothing rather than risk embarrassing yourself. 

Frank put them on, they looked ridiculous of course, the bright red cat-eye was in sharp juxtaposition to his purely masculine features. He chuckled and pulled on the temple tips behind his ear- bouncing them on his large nose, causing you to giggle. 

"There she is! Don't be so serious all the time, kiddo. Have some fun" he smiled and handed them back to you, the tip of his finger brushing against yours. Never washing my hands again. You decided, as he got up and headed towards the pool. Your eyes followed him as usual, admiring the broadness of him. 

The water was buzzing with activity, and all you could think about is how much you'd love it to be empty. It was far too crowded to swim, but it did allow you to keep staring uninterrupted. 

The friendly game of 'throw the ball as hard as you can and cause the biggest splash' was on. Your dad had your cousin  Jacob on his shoulders, the scrawny nine year old was doing quite a bit of damage, landing a throw so accurate it splashed violently all across Frank's face. 

Frank shook the water off, spotting you in the corner of the pool, and swam right towards you. "Come on Hannah banana, I need your help, let's get em' " he smiled widely, and before you had a chance to respond he dove underneath you. 

The gravity beneath you shifted as he began lifting you up from the water. You yelped loudly and grabbed tightly at the head that popped up between your legs, trying to steady yourself. 

You haven't done this since you were seven, when you were light enough to be held on anyone's shoulders, but Frank lifted you up effortlessly, like you weighed nothing, like it was no trouble at all. 

Your thighs squeezed against his neck and shoulders. The ball somehow landed in your hands but all you could think about were franks palms, gripping your legs tightly, keeping you firmly on him. A heady mixture of emotions stirred in your belly. The fear of falling into the pool, mixed with the exhilaration of Frank's hands on your thighs. You could see his large fingers pressing into your flesh, and it was making your head spin. 

You threw the ball as hard as you could, landing a pretty decent splash on your aunt's face. She laughingly demanded her son 'avenge her'. A few more splashes and Jacob came face to face with you, attempting to push you off Frank's shoulders. The poor kid clearly underestimated your determination, and promptly landed in the water, ass first. Frank cheered you on, patting his large palm on your leg before letting you fall into the pool with a little nudge. You emerged from the water laughing, the adrenaline coursing through your veins so potent you could not stop, giggling almost uncontrollably as it sizzled through you.  "Yeah! We win! suck it!" Frank's arms wrapped around you in a tight hug, your body reciprocated before your mind had a chance to catch up, squishing your cheek against his chest. It was over before you even realized. A quick innocent congratulatory hug, that pressed you against his solid frame that towered over you, sending your already overstimulated brain into a tailspin.

*******

You remembered that day vividly, in detail, every part of your visit to the pool was etched into your mind. It was like a switch flipped, or a wire was plugged in, sometimes you likened it to a detonation of a bomb.  It confused you at first, you were flooded with something so potent that it took you a while to recognize what that was. The tingling sensation between your thighs was familiar, but it was never this intense.  The deep shameful truth was that from that day forward, Frank Castle was responsible for the vast majority of your orgasms, without touching you once. It horrified you at first, especially when you learned that he was 19 years older than you. You were disgusted with yourself, with the thoughts that kept getting increasingly more explicit as you aged. It didn’t matter if you were touching yourself or having sex with someone else. It didn’t matter how it started, it would almost always end with him. His voice, his hands, his face, thinking about him was the sure fire way of making yourself cum. 

You hated yourself for thinking about him right now, on the way to your fathers fucking funeral. It was like a pavlovian response you could not shake. You were equal parts hoping you'd see him and dreading the thought of facing him. It’s been three years since you saw him last, and something changed that day.

Hanukkah 2019

The snow was piling outside, a wintery scene in complete contrast to the heat in your dad's kitchen. You were with your aunt Deborah, Jacob’s mom.  She always loved it when you came to visit, she loved it especially when she got to spend time cooking with you. Being a boy-mom, they never took interest in her cooking. You however loved it, your mother was never much of a cook and this was your chance to learn from a true expert. You were making Sufganiyot* for Hanukkah. The jewish bakery made them well, but Aunt Deborah’s were divine. Something about adding buttermilk to the dough.

When Frank came that day it wasn’t planned. “Deb, are you making the jewish doughnuts again? I can smell it all the way across my yard, you’re killing me” his voice boomed as he entered the house. Your heart skipped. You were in your apron, covered in flour, and very much unprepared to see the man you harbored a weird sexual obsession towards. 

“Come in Frank, they’re still hot” Deborah replied as she met him at the door, and Frank's heavy boots marched straight to the kitchen.

“Oh, hey there Hannah banana” he greeted you fondly, giving you a small wave. 20 years old, and still "Hannah banana"... 

“Hey Frank” you waved back, not taking your eyes off the man. 

He plucked a fresh warm Sufgania off the tray, covered in powdered sugar, with a little dollop of red jam on top. “Mmmm come here baby” he growled and stuffed his face into the soft dough, taking a huge bite, muttering “oh my god” and rolling his eyes back in pleasure. This man will be the death of you.

Frank chewed in delight as you tried not to laugh at him, his nose was covered in powdered sugar and jam. He looked back at you, fully aware of the dire situation of his face. “What? What?? I got something on my face?” he smirked, prompting you to giggle.

“Come here Kiddo, you have to taste this”.

He began to slowly advance towards you, before fully chasing you around the kitchen with the Sufgania in hand. You squealed, ‘trying’ to get away from him and ‘failing’. When he finally caught you and cornered you against the wall, he stuffed the remaining dough in your face. You laughed hysterically while attempting to clean your face from the sugar and jam, wiping a small drop from the corner of your mouth with your thumb, and sucking the finger, looking up at Frank through your lashes. Your eyes met at that exact moment, and for a beat you both got quiet. Too quiet.

His laughter faded into a polite smile almost instantly, as he backed off and walked out of the kitchen. 

He never touched you again after that day. He was not even around for the rest of your visit. You saw him once more, just when you were leaving back to college. Instead of the usual goodbye hug he settled for a wave and a “Bye kiddo”, shortly disappearing back into the house. 

Maybe he saw something in your eyes, something inappropriate that shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Maybe that’s when he realized that every time he touched you was like pouring gasoline into a raging fire. Maybe things could have been different, if only you were older, thinner, sexier…not just Saul’s chubby awkward kid. 

It only took a second, one fucking second for Frank to notice what was right in front of him this whole goddamn time. One look into your soft eyes, One flick of pink tongue on your finger, and it was all clear. The thought traveled so fast from his cock to his brain he barely stopped it in time, running out of that kitchen as fast as humanly possible. You were just a kid, Saul’s kid. It was obviously sick to think about you in any other capacity. 

He remembered the time you all went ice skating, how he held your little hand when you kept stumbling and falling. The time when he took you for your first unofficial driving lesson just before you turned 16, in the empty supermarket parking lot. The time when you called him looking for your dad, he told you he’s probably asleep, and you began crying because you knew what that meant.

Were you looking at him like that the entire time? You had no fucking business looking at him like that. How dare you look at him like that.

*******

You had just a few hours to get ready and make the trip back into your hometown for the funeral the following morning. Knowing how jewish funerals worked you weren't surprised, most are buried within 48 hours of passing. 

Just a 3 hour trip from college, it felt like a different planet. You looked out of the frosted car window as Deborah was driving you both to her house, where the shiva* would be held. The snow fell softly and the storefronts decorated for Christmas gave your small town a charming cozy atmosphere. You could almost forget where you were headed. 

Beth Moses cemetery was eerily foggy, the two dozen people who had gathered for your father’s funeral were murmuring almost silently to each other. 

“You shouldn’t have worn that. And take that lipstick off, this is not a party.” your mother whispered as loudly as she possibly could, not taking into consideration that her voice carried. “Cover yourself up, here take my scarf” , you let her drape the back scarf over you, covering the dark gray sweater dress you were wearing under your coat, the one she deemed inappropriate because it showed some cleavage and clung to your belly a little too much for her liking. 

“Well, thanks for the kriah* I won’t be wearing this again after this week, mother” you replied sarcastically. Even though sarcasm never seemed to work on that woman, she was immune to your snide comments, nothing could penetrate the thick layer of self righteousness she wore like her favorite garment the whole fucking time.

“Hey Han”  Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of the familiar deep voice. He appeared before you almost instantly, mercifully tearing your attention from your mother and her constant disapproval. He leaned in for a polite hug, the scent of his cologne flooding your senses, spicy and crisp. He looked the same, just like you remembered and envisioned thousands of times. Same intense dark eyes, same strong jaw, same boxer's nose that you adored. 

“How have you been?” he asked, his voice quiet and grave.

“Hey Frank, I’m ok, yeah..” you replied, robotically, still a little shocked to see him again. 

"Jackie…" he acknowledged your mother with a nod, before proceeding to greet other members of the family. 

The small crowd surrounded the newly dug grave, muttering “amen” with the rabbi as he read the Kadish*. The vapor from their mouths like a silent choir in the cold.

Sunshine broke briefly through the clouds as Saul Friedman’s casket was lowered into the earth. There was something pathetic about how small it looked, and your heart wrenched at the sight. Debora’s silent tears prompted your own but you sniffled, looking up, not allowing them to escape. “Shalom aba” you mumbled as you placed a small stone on the mound of soil that now covered him…

FIN.

Series Masterlist | Next Episode

Halacha - Jewish scripture. According to the rules in order for a person to be considered Jewish their mother needs to be Jewish. (according to Orthodox Judaism) Shiva - “Seven” - a period of seven days after the funeral when the family mourns the death. People often come to visit several times during the shiva. Kriah - “Tearing” - When a next of kin dies, the nuclear family members (parents, children, siblings) have their garments torn, to symbolize mourning. The garment is discarded after the shiva. Sufganiyot - (Singular: Sufganya) - Jewish doughnuts, served on Hanukkah. Traditionally filled with jam and topped with powdered sugar.  Kaddish - A prayer said during the jewish funeral.  Shalom Aba - “Goodbye dad” 

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UPDATE: Halfway to Heaven 24/31

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: referenced character deaths Fandoms: Daredevil, MCU, Jessica Jones, The Punisher, The Defenders Relationships: Matt Murdock & Foggy Nelson & Karen Page, Jessica Jones & Matt Murdock, Frank Castle & Matt Murdock, Matt Murdock & Claire Temple Characters: Matt Murdock, Foggy Nelson, Karen Page, Jessica Jones, Frank Castle, Claire Temple, Wilson Fisk Additional Tags: Whumptober 2022, Alternate Universe - No Powers (just for Matt), Non-Linear Narrative, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Torture, Hurt Matt Murdock, Matt Murdock Needs a Hug, Protective Matt Murdock, Blood and Injury Wordcount: 24k

Excerpt:

Matt is used to this, this feeling of grief so overwhelming it seems to constrict your heart, making it stop beating for just a second before restarting, except there is no relief in this sort of resurrection because the starting is as painful as the stopping, and this torture is neverending. It fades over time, but it will always be there, lurking and waiting for the right moment to strike, waiting for the moment you are too weak, too vulnerable to fight it.

And sometimes, you want your heart to stop beating like it had in your friend, or your family member. You wonder why your heart has decided to continue beating when others deserve it more. You will never get an answer.

That's the fact of life, isn't it? Matt knows that now, has known that since he was 11 and shaking and shaking beside his dad's cooling body, the copper permeating the air, the warmth tainting his hands that he has never been able to wash off, no matter how many times he's tried.

(With Matt Murdock, grief and guilt have always come hand-in-hand.)

Matt knows how it feels for guilt to weigh down his shoulders, and blood to drip from his hands. But that doesn't make the feeling any easier to bear.