#frank castle x david lieberman

[muensterfucker]

( wip ) 9 layers deep in david & frank (the punisher s1) heaven

[silverflameataraxia]

We have scenes of Frank being tortured showing absolutely no fear at all. But the thought of Karen in danger? Pure, unadulterated terror.

[chvoswxtch]

lavender haze (dark mode)

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: frank castle never imagined he would ever fall in love again, and he certainly never imagined love could feel like this.

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, mentions of sexual content (minors pls dni), mentions of pregnancy, a lil angst

word count: 8.6k

a/n: your eyes do not deceive you, this is a repost! the first time I posted this, there was some kind of glitch that changed the color of the text which made it impossible to read on dark mode. I was unable to fix it, and i've been waiting for that glitch to be fixed. it hasn't happened with any of my, or anyone else's posts lately, so it seemed like the right time to repost this for anyone that wasn't able to read it the first time because of the dark mode issue. I truly appreciate everyone being so patient, and even reaching out to me about reposting because you wanted to be able to read it. that makes my lil heart so happy, you have no idea. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

tags: @hellskitchens-whore

Staring at the ceiling with you

Oh, you don’t ever say too much

And you don’t really read into

My melancholia

Frank didn’t know how you did it. You always seemed to just…know. You knew when he felt like talking. You knew when he didn’t. You knew when he wanted to listen to you talk about your day. You knew when he needed comfortable silence. You could tell when he wanted your touch, and when he needed to be left alone. You posed all of your questions meticulously with caution, always stopping an inch before the invisible boundary he had created. You didn’t take offense to his brooding moods that emerged from a detour into the past. You didn’t cover your ears at the silence that echoed when he got lost in the disconsolate caverns in his mind. You didn’t flinch at the scars you could touch, or the ones you could hear in his intermittent vulnerability. You seemed to understand him in a way no one ever had before. Sometimes Frank felt like you understood him more than he even did.

He gazed down at you as your eyes stayed fixated up at the ceiling. Today had been a bad day. He couldn’t remember if he had even asked if you were home before his fist was colliding with your front door, letting out a breath of relief he hadn't even noticed he was holding until your face came into focus. Did he even say hello to you? Did he utter anything at all? He couldn’t remember. Somehow the two of you had ended up on the floor by your record player, your head resting comfortably in his lap, as Elton John’s Rocket Man flowed through the speakers. He could hear you humming faintly as your eyes drifted closed for a moment, your palm delicately stretched out towards him in case he wanted to hold it, or simply letting him know you were there if he didn’t.

Music was how the two of you communicated sometimes. It was how you tried to relate to him when your own words weren’t enough. When he was quiet like this, your choices in music were more purposeful, to either let him know you understood some of what he felt, or to try to soothe the ache with what you knew he enjoyed. Sometimes Frank feared you really could read his mind, especially in moments like these when you seemed to know exactly what he needed without a single word. Even before he knew what he needed. He hated the thought of you being able to see into the carnage that occupied his skull. Of course he knew that was fucking ridiculous. He didn’t even know if you knew what you could do, and if you were aware, you never showed it.

Frank hadn’t had someone to run to in a long time. Someone he didn’t feel like a burden to in doing so. It had taken him longer than he’d like to admit to be comfortably exposed with you. Slowly but surely, he tore his own guard down brick by brick as you waited patiently. It wasn’t just that he didn’t want to be a liability for you, he was also nervous about just how much of himself he could reveal without running you off. Frank had managed to find you during yet another really low point in his life; a glimmer of light through all the darkness. He still remembers the day he met you in that bookstore. He often replays that memory in his head like an old comforting home movie.

You had complimented his choice in literature as he held a worn copy of The Great Gatsby in his hands, disclosing to him that it was one of your favorites. Frank was instantly captivated by you and your sweet smile. For a good ten minutes you stood there with him, discussing books you had both read, and recommending a few of your other favorites to him that you thought he would like based on his previous reads. It made him feel so…human. There was a warmth about you that made him shiver. 

To this day, Frank still doesn’t know where he found the courage to ask you to coffee, and he still has absolutely no idea why you said yes. All he knew was that he loved you, and that seemed to be enough.

I’ve been under scrutiny

You handle it beautifully

All this shit is new to me

When news broke that the Punisher was back in New York, the media had a fucking field day. Frank knew he was at fault. He had been a little too reckless and not bothered to check for cameras at the warehouse. Madani was pissed. She was giving him an earful over the phone. She wasn’t on speaker, but Frank knew you could hear every word she was saying from your spot on the couch. Every news channel seemed to be debating on the alternating justifications on why Frank was a necessary anti-hero, or why he was a psychopathic murderer. After about three minutes, you simply just shut off the tv.

Frank wasn’t even hardly paying attention to Madani’s words. Hell he didn’t even fucking care what they were saying about him on the news. If he valued public opinion, he wouldn’t be who he was. His eyes kept glancing over at you. There was a neutral look on your face, but Frank wasn’t sure if that was for your sake or his. He desperately wanted to know what was going on in your head. He didn’t know what to say. You knew who Frank was when you met, and you had never given any indication that who he really was bothered you, but that did nothing to dull the anxiety throbbing in his veins.

This was all completely unchartered territory for him, and he was absolutely lost. He had never talked to Maria about the horrors he endured and committed during his tours. Frank had vowed to keep that part of his life separate from his family when he came home. But Maria had the luxury of his anonymity. You didn’t. You didn’t have the privilege of a soldier just following orders. The evidence of his brutality was plastered everywhere for you to see. It was no longer something unspoken the two of you pretended wasn’t lurking in the shadows. It was glaring you right in the face. Frank didn’t know how you would react, and if he was being honest with himself, he was fucking scared. He didn’t want to lose the one good thing he had found that made life worth living again. He didn’t want to lose you. 

Frank cut Madani’s rampage off with the pad of his thumb, placed his phone on silent, and set it face down on the counter. He would deal with that later. This was more important.

“You were never s’posed to see any of this.”

Your head perked up when his gruff voice cut through the silence. There was a tender expression in your eyes, and your lips had pulled into a sympathetic smile.

“I know. Flaunting isn’t really your style. I’m sure this will all blow over in a couple days. Dinah will calm down eventually. It’s all going to be okay, Frank.”

The conviction in your voice had a lump forming in Frank’s throat. Despite everything, here you were trying to comfort him. Frank didn’t know what to do other than settle on his knees in front of you on the floor, head nestled against your stomach as his arms wrapped tightly around your body in silent begging. 

“I’m so sorry ‘bout all this, sweetheart. I didn’t…I never wanted any of this shit to come back to you.”

“Frank, you have never lied to me about who you are, and I have never pretended to not know.”

“Doesn’t mean I ever wanted you to see this side of me. I could handle you knowin’. That’s one thing. But seein’…what I do…I don’t want you to change your mind…”

Frank’s voice trailed off. He couldn’t finish that sentence. He closed his eyes as he felt your fingers carding through his hair. 

“Hey, look at me.”

Frank couldn’t. He was afraid of what he would see. The disgust at his actions, the regret in your choices, the recant of your affection. It wasn’t someone else’s bullets ripping away his happiness this time. It was his own. There would be no one else to blame for this. No one else’s blood would satiate this desperate vengeance. He would have to live with his own wrath and guilt. After a moment of silence, you gently cupped his strong jaw and lifted his chin to meet your warm gaze. Frank reluctantly met your eyes, but he didn’t find the repulsion he expected. All he found was acceptance.

“I love you, Frank Castle. I know exactly who you are. I don’t need anyone else to tell me. You are the man that makes me feel safe. You are the man who makes me feel special and loved. You are the man that risks his life over and over again to protect people. You are the man that brings me daisies when you know I’ve had a bad day. You are the man that twirls me around the kitchen when we’re cooking dinner together. I know you, and I love you. Every side of you. There is nothing you, or anyone else, could ever do or say that would change the way I see you, or the way I feel about you. I promise.”

Not even Frank’s own self inflicted loathing and contempt could combat your verity. He could hear the unrelenting sincerity dripping from your words as your lips brushed past his ear. He could see the genuine devotion reflected in your eyes when he held your gaze from underneath him. He could feel the profound adoration in the gentleness of your touch, holding his face in your hands as his hips found refuge between yours. He could taste the ardent desire on your lips over and over as he made love to you right there. He could even smell the sentiment of a silent promise made from the intermingling of both of your climaxes lingering in the aftermath of his display of gratitude.

Frank didn’t know what the future held for a man like him that had ventured through hell and back several times over and cheated death more times than he could count. But he had a second chance at life, and he wasn’t going to waste it. Not when he had found you. He already felt like he won the goddamn jackpot when you agreed to that first date, and he wasn’t sure how much luck he had left to really make this work. But as long as you wanted him around, he’d be damned if he wouldn’t find a way. 

I feel a lavender haze creeping up on me

So real, I’m damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal, the 1950s shit they want for me

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

When was the last time he had felt this happy? This…light? Frank couldn’t remember. It had to have been during the early years of being married to Maria, before he started getting deeper into classified ops that held more and more pieces of him hostage with every completed mission. Before he started to feel anxious about going home because he wasn’t sure who he was there. Before he started preferring being covered in blood dodging bullets with his unit than being around his own kids. 

All of that felt like another lifetime ago. Frank supposed it was, in a way. It was all a little hazy in the back of his mind sometimes. Whether that was from the tequila you had talked him into or the way your hips were swaying to the song filling the small space of the dive bar you two had become regulars at, he wasn’t sure. Could’ve been a bit of both. But as he watched you move from across the room, a playful grin on your lips as you beckoned him over with your index finger, everything else seemed to fade away.

God, you could dance. Frank was mesmerized the first time he saw the way you could move your hips. He had thoroughly enjoyed watching you from his seat at the bar, but that was nothing compared to watching you from below that night. Frank was drawn to you like a magnet, his feet moving before his brain even caught up. He grinned when you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a dizzying kiss. Frank wrapped his arms around your waist as tightly as he could, sneaking one of his large hands up the back of your shirt to feel the warmth of the soft skin on your lower back. His hands found their way to your hips of their own accord, like they always did.

“Hey, big guy.”

“Hi darlin’.”

“You weren’t gonna come dance with me?”

“Just enjoyin’ the view, sweetheart. You know I like to watch.”

Frank reveled in the way your cheeks burned a deeper shade of red, doe eyes widening and lips parting slightly in surprise. You quickly recovered, a knowing smirk taking over your mouth as you pressed your chest against his.

“Well if you wanted a private show, all you had to do was ask.”

“That right?”

Frank dipped his head to brush his nose along the underside of your jaw, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin just below your ear before nipping at it just hard enough to earn a sharp gasp from you. He let one of his large hands trail down your lower back, giving your ass a playful smack before grabbing a handful of it and squeezing gently.

“Alright then, pretty girl. Let’s get outta here.”

There weren’t always nights like this where the two of you got to go out freely and just be a regular couple. But on the occasions where you did get a little normalcy, Frank wanted it to last forever. He didn’t even want to go to sleep those nights. He just wanted to stay in the moment with you, and milk it for all it was worth. The rare moments when he wasn’t The Punisher. He wasn’t the Marine. He wasn’t a widower that had fatherhood ripped away from him. He wasn’t weighed down by the weight of the world and another lifetime of trauma and loss.

He was just Frank, and he was just yours. 

All they keep asking me

Is if I’m gonna be your bride

The only kind of girl they see

Is a one night or a wife

Curt and David had both been giving Frank hell about you. They continuously kept asking him when he was gonna “lock that shit down”. The first time he had brought you around them, they were both absolutely stunned that Frank had landed someone like you. Curt had jokingly offered to give you a head exam, and David had repeatedly asked how much Frank was paying you to pretend to be his girlfriend. 

“No seriously, I lived with this asshole for several months. There’s no fucking way he landed someone like you, unless he’s paying you. Granted…he did try to steal my wife once, but that was under the guise of alcohol and desperation on her part. Is that it Frank? You just keep her drunk so she doesn’t fully see your face or recognize how much of a dick you are?”

“Oh for fucks sake Lieberman, for the last goddamn time I didn’t-sweetheart you know what, just ignore him. We all do anyway.”

“What I think D is tryin’ to say is that we think it’s great you’re so involved in charity. I mean, you’re doin’ a real public service here. We appreciate your sacrifice, truly. I ain’t seen this man smile this much in…years.”

“This is why I can’t fuckin’ take y’all anywhere, Jesus Christ.”

Despite the teasing, you had fit in effortlessly with them. Anyone passing by the table would’ve thought you had all been friends for years. There was no awkwardness or hesitation to acclimate, you had even dished back your own playful banter throughout the evening earning you eyebrows raised in surprise and prideful smirks from Frank.

“Y’all keep fuckin’ with my girl, and I ain’t gonna hold her back. She ain’t always as nice as she looks. Hell, she hits harder than both of y’all combined. Trust me.”

Curt and David both adored you, not only because of how good you were for Frank, but also because they really genuinely liked you. As the months added up to a year, they both kept pressuring Frank to take the next step in your relationship. Once they had figured out you weren’t just a fling, and that Frank had truly fallen in love with you, neither one of them could wrap their head around why he wouldn’t want to make it official. Curt knew Frank would always love Maria, and that there would never be any replacing her. But he also knew that there would never be another you. You were Frank’s second shot. There wouldn’t be a third. There wasn’t room in his heart for a third.

Frank wasn’t an idiot. He knew you were way out of his league. Not only were you absolutely way too good for him, he also thought you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He noticed all the eyes on you everytime the two of you went somewhere. He didn’t miss the utter confusion written evidently on guy’s faces when you reached for his hand to intertwine your fingers together or pressed a kiss to his lips with a huge grin. He resisted the urge to stalk over and snap something out of place when their disrespectful stares lasted a little too long for his liking. But you never noticed any of it. Because every time Frank brought his gaze back to you, your eyes were already on him. They were always on him.

It wasn’t that Frank didn’t see a future with you. When he thought about what the rest of his life looked like, you were always there. He loved you entirely. He just wasn’t sure if he could be a husband again. Frank had proposed to Maria three months into their relationship because she was pregnant, and it was the right decision. Not to say that they would’ve never gotten married had she not been pregnant, but everything had happened so fast. Frank became a husband and a father almost overnight. He didn’t regret a second of his marriage with Maria, but he didn’t want to repeat it. He wanted to take his time with you. Frank wanted to savor every moment with you, just as you were. No pressure, no expectations, just you and him. 

You were the first person Frank had ever met that didn’t ask him to be someone else. You didn’t ask him to hide the parts of himself that were scary. You didn’t try to tame the aspects of his life that were tumultuous. You didn’t try to redirect his daunting choices. You didn’t try to pull him in a million different directions and expect him to be someone he wasn’t. You let him be exactly who he was, and loved him all the same. Frank didn’t need a piece of paper to know how much you loved him, or that you were his. You proved that to him every single day. 

I find it dizzying

They’re bringing up my history

But you aren’t even listening

Madani was on a rampage. Frank hadn’t tied things up as neatly as she had wanted, and arguably had left a bit of a mess, and she was furious. Enough to show up at his front door with Mahoney ten minutes shy of five in the morning with more rage than a person should ever have that early. Since you and Frank had recently moved in together, they were also at your front door, and Frank knew that once you were awake there was no going back to sleep for you. Pushing his own annoyance to the side, Frank apologized profusely, but you simply shrugged it off and went to the kitchen to make coffee for the four of you.

She wanted Frank to go back in and finish the job, this time wrapping everything up neatly with a bow. No loose ends. No mess. But to Frank, it wasn’t worth the risk. The previous case had taken months of prep work and careful planning. The target was high profile, with even more high profile friends, and was someone the U.S. government was not technically supposed to be going after. Madani had given Frank very strict instructions, all of which he did his best to follow, but there were unforeseen complications he had to improvise with. 

“It ain’t worth the risk, Madani. They know someone’s gunnin’ for ‘em now. It ain’t gonna be as easy to catch ‘em off guard again. The security this guy has now could put the fuckin’ secret service to shame.”

“I can’t just let him go, Castle. If this guy goes underground, that’s it. We won’t have another chance. This has to happen now.”

“I get that Dinah, alright I do. But there ain’t enough time to put somethin’ together that’s gonna work. We don’t even have-”

“Oh bullshit! That’s complete bullshit Frank, and you know it. If this guy had kidnapped Karen Page, you’d be there in a heartbeat and he’d be dead by now. You have no problem running straight into the fire when your own selfish interests are at risk but not when I fucking need you to.”

Frank’s jaw tensed at the mention of Karen and his eyes immediately diverted to you. You were finally making your own cup of coffee after bringing three to the table for them. If you had reacted to her name at all, Frank didn’t see it. He had mentioned Karen briefly to you once a few months ago, and how she had helped him find David. You knew she was present for his trial and had read the articles she had written about him. You knew there was a history there. Frank hadn’t really detailed exactly what that history was or meant. He had simply said she was someone he cared about and left it at that. You never asked about it again.

Mahoney seemed to follow Frank’s gaze over towards where you were leaning against the kitchen counter. His eyes lingered on Frank for a moment before he faced Madani and cleared his throat.

“I think the point you’re missing Madani is he has no trouble doing that when it comes to certain people. If that person isn’t in danger, he’s not gonna roll up guns blazing to a suicide mission.”

“Since when the hell are you on his side, Mahoney? You need this done as badly as I do.”

“I do. But we need to be smart about this, and you need to consider all the stakes that are involved, and who those consequences fall on.”

Brett motioned his head subtly in your direction, and for the first time since shoving her way in completely blinded by anger, Dinah noticed your presence. Her wrath seemed to dissipate a little as she glanced between you and Frank, detecting the somewhat pleading look in his eyes. Halting her pacing, she finally took a seat at the dining table and let out a deep exhale of understanding. 

“Alright. How do we do this Frank? What’s the smartest way, what do you need from me?”

“Patience, for starters.”

“Now Frank, you know better than to taunt an angry woman that’s got a full clip without a bulletproof vest.”

Walking by to place a kiss to Frank’s head, you shot Dinah a wink and lightly squeezed Brett’s shoulder on your way back into the bedroom. Dinah looked over at Frank in amusement, a smirk completely taking over her mouth as she brought the steaming mug to her lips.

“For the record, I like her better than you.”

“Glad we’re all in agreement then. Cause I like her a hell of a lot more than you two put together.”

After Madani and Mahoney had left, Frank made his way into your shared bedroom and leaned against the doorway to the bathroom as he watched you get ready for work.

“Shoulda warned you movin’ in with me meant house calls from Madani at ungodly hours.”

“Nothing I wasn’t prepared for.”

The smile you sent Frank’s reflection in the mirror nearly made him weak in the goddamn knees. 

“Can I take ya to breakfast?”

“I’d love that. I’m almost done.”

Frank watched you silently for a moment, mesmerized by all your little movements. He liked to watch you when you weren’t paying attention, when you thought no one was paying attention to you. He loved the way your nose crinkled adorably when you got embarrassed or confused, the cute little pout that formed on your lips when something wasn’t right or working, how you were always humming something when you were lost in thought. Frank pulled you into his embrace the second you turned around, brushing his thumb lightly over your cheekbone.

“I really am sorry ‘bout this mornin’. Not just, ya’know, Madani flyin’ in like a bat outta hell. What she said ‘bout Karen-”

“I know, Frank. It’s okay. She’s right, though. If Karen was involved, you wouldn’t hesitate.”

“I wouldn’t hesitate for you either.”

A shy smile took over your lips as you leaned into Frank’s embrace, gently wrapping your small hand around his wrist.

“I know that, Frank. I know you’d do it for me too. And Curtis, and David, and even Dinah and Brett. And before you even start your protest, don’t bother. Because you’ve already done it for everyone on the list. Some of them, several times.”

“Not you, though. And I hope to God it never comes to that. But if it ever does-”

“You’re wrong.”

Frank cocked his head slightly to the side, peering down at you with brows knit in confusion.

“What?”

“You’re wrong. You have done it for me.”

“When?”

“Everyday. You save me, every single day, and you have since that day in the bookstore.”

Frank stared down at you incredulously, shaking his head slowly to himself. He wrapped his arms a little tighter around you and leaned in to press his forehead against yours.

“You keep talkin’ like that, I’m gonna take you to bed instead of breakfast.”

“Why not both?”

I feel a lavender haze creeping up on me

So real, I’m damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal, the 1950s shit they want for me

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

When Frank had asked you what you wanted for your birthday, your answer was simple. Him. Frank argued that you had to let him get you a birthday present after you had gone all out for him, so you compromised. Time. That’s all you asked for. Just you and him, no distractions, no responsibilities, no work, no interruptions. Frank hadn’t hardly been home the past two months, and you had been putting in a few late nights of your own even when he was. Every night he was away from you made Frank wonder how the hell he ever managed to go eighteen months without Maria.

Two weeks before your birthday, Frank told you to request a few days off and pack a bag. He wouldn’t tell you why, just said to pack comfortably for cold weather. You didn’t even bother trying to get a hint out of him. The man had been trained for torture, he wasn’t going to give into your incessant childish begging when he was so committed to his surprise. He was still tight lipped as you both loaded his truck down and took off on a three hour drive upstate. When he turned off onto a winding dirt road and caught your puzzled expression, he couldn’t help but chuckle. It wasn’t until the cozy cabin finally came into view that a gasp left your mouth. Your head snapped towards him with wide eyes as he put the truck in park.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“You got me a cabin?”

Frank threw his head back and howled with laughter, reaching over to grab onto your thigh and squeeze gently as an ear splitting grin covered his mouth.

“Well hell, if I had known you wanted one, I woulda got you one. But since someone didn’t wanna give me any ideas, I had to get creative. This is all ours for the next few days. Ain’t no one around for miles. And the best part? No cell service.”

Even though there were tears in your eyes from how thoughtful Frank’s gift to you was, it didn’t stop you from climbing onto his lap and clawing at his belt with eager hands. Frank didn���t even pretend to put up a fight. It was your birthday after all. He’d give you whatever you wanted. And if you wanted to ride him in the front seat of his truck, well then it felt like his birthday too. You and Frank nearly christened every spot in that cabin in less than 24 hours. Frank fucked you in the large plush bed in the bedroom, the hot tub, on the kitchen counter, in front of the fireplace, on the dining table, in the shower, the couch, and even against a tree when you went for a walk together in the woods.

For three days it was absolute uninterrupted bliss, and Frank had never been happier. You both took turns cooking meals, even though Frank was adamant about doing most of the cooking since it was your birthday trip. He dazzled you with his baking skills when he handcrafted a red velvet birthday cake with cream cheese frosting; your favorite. You both found a beautiful trail that had a breathtaking view of a lake and had a picnic there. Frank slow danced with you around the living room with only the glow of the fire and moon to illuminate the space. It felt like a dream neither of you wanted to wake up from.

After spending nearly an hour with his head buried between your thighs and another with his hips pressed firmly to yours, Frank held you delicately against his chest. His thick fingers ran loosely throughout your hair, lightly scratching at your scalp how he knew you liked. He watched as your fingertips carefully traced scars and indentations along his chest and abdomen. Sometimes when you laid like this, you asked him the story behind each one. But tonight, you were unusually quiet. Frank lightly nudged his nose against your temple.

“What’s goin’ on up there?”

“I don’t wanna go home.”

Your voice was small and fragile, like a shattered piece of glass that hadn’t yet fallen to pieces. Frank had almost forgotten that tonight was your last night here. He had been trying to make you forget too. 

“Me neither, sweetheart. We can always come back.”

You hummed quietly in response, tracing invisible words above Frank’s heart that he couldn’t quite decipher. He placed his index finger under your jaw and lightly grasped your chin to tilt your head back.

“That it?”

Frank could see the hesitation in the depths of your eyes. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, something you always did when you were contemplating your words carefully. For a second, Frank was worried he might have done something wrong, or not done something he should have.

“We can go somewhere nice for you birthday when we get back if you wanted-”

“No, no Frank that’s not it. This…this has been the most perfect and special birthday I’ve ever had. It’s the first time I’ve even enjoyed celebrating my birthday since I was a kid. I guess I’m just…feeling selfish.”

“Selfish? You’re allowed to be selfish on your birthday, darlin’. That’s kinda the whole point, ain’t it?”

“My birthday was three days ago.”

“So?”

The tiniest of smiles tugged at the corner of your mouth as you shook your head slowly. Frank watched as your gaze dropped back down to where your fingertips were still writing invisible words.

“C’mon baby, talk to me. Feelin’ selfish how?”

“I just…don’t wanna go home. I like this. I like having you all to myself. I like being here with you, doing all these things together, feeling like I’m your…just…it’s nice.”

“My what?”

Frank dipped his head slightly to meet your gaze, but he couldn’t catch it. Whatever you wanted to say, you were guarding it. 

“Your…main priority.”

Priority wasn’t the word you wanted to use. Frank knew it as soon as the words left your mouth. You couldn’t lie to save your life. He knew there was something else you wanted to say, but he couldn’t figure out what. Neither of you kept things from the other, and he couldn’t understand why you were doing that right now. He gently grabbed your neck and held your face with his fingers, searching your eyes for any kind of clue. They were shimmering with a translucent layer of sadness, but he couldn’t tell what from.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

“I know. I love you, Frank.”

“You are my main priority, baby. I want you to know that. I know I been gone a lot lately, and I’m sorry ‘bout that, but you do come first. You need me, you call me. I don’t care where I am, what time it is, or how small you may think it is. You need me, you call me, and I’m there. No questions asked. You got that?”

Nodding slowly, you closed your eyes for a moment as a tear slipped past your lashes. Frank brought his thumb up to catch it before it could descend down your cheek, holding you even tighter against his chest.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be. S’alright, honey.”

“I just miss you when you’re gone, Frank. So much. I worry about you all the time. I get scared that everytime I hear your voice on the phone might be the last…or what I would do if you didn’t come home-”

“Hey, look at me. I will always come home to you. I promise. You will always have me. Always. I miss you the second I step out that door, and all I can think about when I’m away is comin’ home to you. Nothin’ could ever keep me away from my favorite girl.”

Frank pressed his lips to your forehead in a soft kiss, lingering there for a moment as he held you tightly in his arms. He made another promise that night that once every couple of months you two would get away for a while. No distractions, no responsibilities, no interruptions. He made love to you two more times so that the only thing you could feel was him. He kept himself inside you as he wrapped you up in his body completely, whispering sweet nothings into your ear until you fell asleep. When the morning came, he woke you up with his head nestled between your thighs, chasing any lingering feelings of sadness away with his tongue until there was nothing left but pure gratification. 

Talk your talk and go viral

I just need this love spiral

Get it off your chest

Get it off my desk

Things had been different after you and Frank got back from your trip. They were so subtle, he wasn’t entirely convinced he wasn’t going crazy and imagining things that weren’t there. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was, but something was different. Something was off. He could feel it. 

There was a dissonance between the two of you. Frank noticed you had become a little distant, withdrawing into yourself at times. Of course he had no room to speak, he had been guilty of doing that on several occasions. He figured you might have been going through something and needed your space until you were ready to talk about it. So, he did what you always did with him. He was patient, provided reassurance of his presence both verbally and with gestures, and gave you the space you needed.

But then a month went by, and you still hadn’t said anything. He tried to be as patient as you had been with him, but it was never his virtue. It was driving him absolutely mad trying to put together this puzzle when all the pieces were locked away in your mind. Anyone else observing you wouldn’t be able to tell you were acting differently, not even the ones that knew you. But no one knew you quite like Frank. He noticed everything about you. He saw the way your smiles didn’t quite reach your eyes like they normally did. He heard the detachment in your voice when he asked you about your day. He hadn’t felt the warmth of your touch in a month. Every time he managed to make it home at a decent hour, you weren’t there. You had been spending more nights at work, making up excuses about a big project with a strict deadline. But Frank knew better. He knew you were avoiding him. He just couldn’t figure out why.

He replayed the entire trip in his head over and over again, searching for anything out of place that would explain your behavior. The only thing Frank could think of was your last night at the cabin when you had gotten emotional about leaving. Frank analyzed every piece of that conversation. He thought he had done everything right that night by telling you everything that you needed to hear to put your mind at ease, and making a promise to dedicate more time together. But if more time together was what you wanted, why were you pulling away?

Frank couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t be as patient as you. Something was wrong, and the uncertainty was driving him fucking crazy. He managed to easily find a way into your building, a concern he would discuss with you at a later time, and was barreling towards your office. The space was dark and quiet, seemingly empty, but he could see the light on through your window. Frank shut and locked the door as soon as he stepped through, barricading the door with his large frame. There was nowhere for you to run. The only way out was through him, and he wasn’t letting you leave until you talked to him.

“Frank? What are you-”

“What’s goin’ on?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what. You’ve been off since we got home. Now look…I’ve tried, alright? I’ve tried to give you space until you were ready to talk about whatever the hell this is, and ya’know be patient until you were ready to come to me…but you’re not comin’ to me. You’re hidin’ from me. Why?”

“I’m not hiding from you, Frank.”

“Yes you are. That’s why you’re here. That’s why you’ve been spendin’ almost every night here instead of at home with me. That’s why you keep tryin’ to lie when we both know you’re fuckin’ terrible at it. Ya’know I thought…I thought we didn’t do that. I thought we agreed ya’know, no secrets. No lies. So…what is it?”

The silence in the room was deafening and nearly drowned out the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. For the first time in a very long time, Frank was fucking terrified. He had no idea what was going on with you. He had no idea what he had done wrong. He didn’t like the way your face twisted up in remorse and confusion. He hated that you wouldn’t look at him. He would’ve rather faced down the barrel of a loaded gun than whatever the fuck was about to happen right now. Frank took a step forward, his eyes darting back and forth fervently as he searched your face for something, anything. His voice was gentle and laced with pure vulnerability as he pleaded with you.

“Please just…please just talk to me. Please, sweetheart. Just…tell me what’s goin’ on. I can’t…I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what the problem is. Please tell me.”

Frank watched closely as you rubbed your palms slowly down your face, looking anywhere but at him as you glanced around your office. You closed your eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, and Frank’s fingers twitched at his sides in anxious anticipation.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Frank.”

Your words caught him completely off guard, and he blinked a few times as confusion settled between his dark brows.

“What?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you finally lifted your head to meet Frank’s unrelenting gaze. You gave a light shrug of your shoulders as a tiny melancholic smile covered your lips.

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Frank I…I know you love me. I know that, okay. But…is that it?”

Frank cocked his head to the side slightly as he stared down at you. He could see that you were waiting for an answer, but he couldn’t figure out what the hell the question was. 

“I’m not followin’, sweetheart. Is what it?”

“Is that all there is? I mean am I…am I it? Because you are Frank. You are it for me. I know what I want from you, but I have no idea if you want it too, or if you even want it at all. I don’t know what you want.”

“Sweetheart, what I want is you. Is that not clear?”

“Yeah but for how long, Frank?”

Frank stared at you silently, feeling completely lost within your riddle. He was trying his hardest to follow along, but a piece of the puzzle was still missing. You were still holding something back. He wasn’t sure if it was the same piece you withheld that last night at the cabin, but it was preventing him from being able to see the whole picture.

“What do you want?”

“Frank-”

“Say it. Whatever it is you been too scared to say, just say it. I’m not gonna understand until you tell me, so just get it off your chest.”

Hesitation flashed across your face, and he could practically feel the uneasiness radiating off of you. Frank watched as you caught your bottom lip between your teeth and took a few steps forward to gently pry it away with his thumb. He reached out to take one of your small hands in his, brushing his thumb lightly over the back of your knuckles before giving it a delicate reassuring squeeze.

“Talk to me.”

“I want a future, Frank. I want a future with you. I want everything with you.”

“You don’t think I want that?”

“I don’t know, Frank. You��ve never mentioned it, we’ve never talked about it. I don’t know what you really want. I know that I love you, and I want to be with you. Always. You’re it for me, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want a life together. I want…a family. Our family. I just…I don’t know if you want any of those things.”

It was your turn to be nervous as Frank stared down at you silently while processing your words. Once everything clicked in his brain, he felt like a fucking idiot. He had told everyone that he wanted a future with you. Everyone except you, apparently. He hadn’t told you that whenever he thought about his future, you were at the center of it. He hadn’t told you that you were it for him too. He hadn’t explained why he never mentioned marriage or starting a family to you. Hell, he hadn’t even stopped to consider if those were things you even wanted. Not once in the past year and a half had he bothered to ask. 

You had tried to subtly give him a hint that last night at the cabin. Frank had a sudden epiphany as your words echoed in his head. I like being here with you, doing all these things together, feeling like I’m your…main priority. He knew you hadn’t meant to say priority, but it wasn’t until now that he realized what you were actually trying to say. 

Your wife. Your partner. Your future.

“A family?”

“Yes, Frank. A family.”

The sincerity in your voice absolved any remaining apprehensions Frank had about making it all official. He could do this again. He could do it with you. He knew you didn’t need a piece of paper either to know how much he loved you, but if it made you feel more secure in your future together, he would do it. He would do anything for you. Frank shoved everything off of your desk quickly before lifting you by your hips to set you up on top of it. His hands were in the middle of pushing your dress up your thighs when you placed your palms against his chest and laughed nervously.

“Frank, what are you doing?”

“You want a baby sweetheart? I’ll give you one. Right now.”

“Frank-”

“You just tell me what kind of ring you want. You got it.”

“Frank I…I don’t…I didn’t mean right now. We don’t have to figure this all out right now. I just…wanted to know what you wanted. If…if you wanted a future with me too. I mean…I want you to want this too. I don’t want you to do it just because it’s what I want. If you-”

Frank cupped your face in his large hands and leaned in to kiss your lips softly. He sighed in content against your mouth, nuzzling his nose against your own. He pressed his forehead to yours as he started deeply down into your eyes.

“I love you. I love wakin’ up next to you. I love that you’re the last thing I see when I close my eyes at night. I wanna spend the rest of my life lovin’ you. Ya’know after Maria…I wasn’t sure I’d ever want to do any of that again. I wasn’t sure if I could. But if that’s what you want, then I want it too. We’ll figure it out together, yeah?”

“Really?”

“When you’re ready, I’m ready. I promise.”

I feel a lavender haze creeping up on me

So real, I’m damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal, the 1950s shit they want for me

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

You and Frank were not a traditional couple. You never had been. There was nothing traditional or normal about your relationship, but neither one of you seemed to really care. Everything between the two of you had always happened exactly as it was supposed to. You did everything on your own terms, at your own pace, and only followed your own expectations that you two had established together. Now that you were both on the same page about your future together, you simply decided to let the rest of the pieces come together when it was their time. 

Over the course of the next year, you and Frank only fell harder and more deeply in love. True to his word, Frank made sure that you two had some little getaway planned every three months. The walls of your home were filled with little snippets of your favorite memories from your trips together. There were even a few that Curt and David along with the rest of the Lieberman family had joined you on. You started your own holiday traditions of spending them with yours and Frank’s chosen family, and David’s kids were absolutely thrilled when you got Frank a puppy for Christmas last year. Frank had even let them have the honor of naming him which is how you ended up with an adorable big baby of a pit bull named Zeo, a combination of their names.

Life was so full for the two of you, it never felt like anything was missing. There were only more things you wanted to add to it. Frank eventually found himself at complete peace with the idea of becoming a husband and father again. There was no pressure of expectations or rush to catch up with anyone else. He had simply healed enough to make that choice of his own accord. Being your husband was what Frank genuinely wanted for himself. He wanted to be a complete unit with you; a team. For your three year anniversary, Frank took you back to that same cabin and proposed to you in front of the golden glow of the fireplace. A month later, you had a small intimate little ceremony at that beautiful spot by the lake you had found during your first exploration. 

There was nothing traditional about it, but it was perfect. David got ordained and performed the ceremony, asking you three times if you were absolutely sure you wanted to be legally bound to Frank forever. Curt and Sarah stood by yours and Frank’s sides. Zach and Leo were the ring bearer and flower girl. You and Frank had even gotten Zeo a little bowtie for his collar. The “reception” took place at yours and Frank’s favorite diner in town. Instead of wedding cake, you two shoved apple pie in each other's faces. The celebrations continued at the bar across the street where you toasted with cheap wine and shots of tequila. Your first dance was to Can’t Take My Eyes Off You by Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons because it was the best choice on the jukebox. That night you and Frank made love more times than you could count. 

A few months later when you both decided you were ready to start a family, you left it all up to chance. You weren’t actively trying, but you also weren’t using protection. Whenever it was meant to happen, it would. Seven months later you found out you were pregnant. The grin on Frank’s face when you told him the news was composed of pure happiness. Neither of you wanted to know what you were having until the baby was born, but you picked out names that you both absolutely loved either way. Frank was present for every big and little moment of your pregnancy. All the appointments, hearing the heartbeat for the first time, feeling the first little movements and kicks. All those little things and moments he had missed both times Maria was pregnant he was now getting to experience fully with you. He was there for every second of your labor, letting you grip his hand as tightly as you needed, getting you anything you wanted, showering you in praise and encouragement when it was time to push.

Frank sobbed proudly when he held his baby girl in his arms for the first time. He was in complete awe of the beautiful creature the two of you had created together in pure love. He still questioned relentlessly what he had done so right to deserve this life; this second chance. There were still so many moments he doubted whether he was deserving of happiness. But here he was, holding his happiness in his arms. His second chance. His future. Frank wanted to stay in this moment forever.

[alexiswritingstuff]

Saved by the unexpected.

Pairing: Frank Castle x teen! reader (Gender Neutral)

Other appearances: Micro, aka��David Lieberman. 

Summary: Your run to the grocery store goes sideways on the way back home that leads you to being at the wrong place at the wrong time, and with a fresh gunshot wound. Upon waking up you find yourself somewhere unknown with people you had never seen... Or so you thought.

Warnings: gun fights, murder, gun shot wound, mentions of other injuries like cuts and bruises, implied parent loss. 

Be aware of possible spelling mistakes or sentences that are worded wrong. I read over my writing before posting but stuff still manages to slip under my radar!

A/n: Bro I really am bad at creating titles for fics. Anyway, I watched The Punisher a few months ago, and previously finished DareDevil, and I wasn’t able to stop thinking about a certain Mr. Castle. That man in general already activated my daddy issues and then I watched season 2, and... Yeah, that was a lot, but this is what my brain created! 

Like I say whenever I write for new characters, because this is my first attempt, the way portray them and the characteristics may not be a 100% accurate, so bear with me while I find my footing.

Either way, I hope you enjoy reading! 

It was supposed to be a morning like any other. One that started with a bright sky and chirping birds before slowly melding into the warm afternoon. 

You had just done the weekly shop, collecting everyday items, things that would give the most important nutrients, with basically the same amount in snacks and drinks. 

I mean, what else could they mean by a balanced diet?

The main route you would usually take had been closed off by the time you had finished with the store, the road cracked from something unknown, meaning that you had to take a detour. 

It was one that you had walked through many times before, leading you almost directly towards where your trailer was stationed without having to wind round block after block of apartments. 

So, the decision to choose it was simple. 

You took off down the pathway between two very large buildings that almost looked as if they could reach the sky from your angle.

This part was more commonly known as the run down area. The complexes on either side of you were empty. Most had the windows boarded up, due to the lack of repair, and the walls themselves were stained from a plethora of things. 

Some parts even looked about ready to fully crack and crumble. 

It was a lot harder to get funding for these buildings the further they got from the main street. The only people even coming here were probably residents from some that managed to become apartments. But the rest was pretty much just abandoned property.

You had moved under an overhang section created by the walkway above, connecting the two opposing buildings. It honestly sort of felt like a tunnel due to its width, but definitely not by length as you were quickly welcomed by the next area. 

To the left, behind a wall that separated a descending pathway from the ground levelled with your own feet, was a car park. 

The size of it would give the implication that there was a mass of vehicles coming in and out during the week, easy access for people working in the surrounding buildings. 

Though now, it was always empty.

… Or it was supposed to be. 

In the furthest corner was this very specific looking handful of cars; big and black, almost blocky in structure. A sight that should have been acknowledged as the first sign. Your first warning. 

But not fast enough.

Out of nowhere, there was this echo that felt like it drilled through your ear drums. It was a violent sound, one that rung for almost a full minute through the complex to your left. 

It wasn’t something you really questioned off the bat, somehow. I mean, the building was old. 

It could’ve been a loose panel finally deciding to break free from the ceiling, or a cracked wall weighing in on itself. Maybe even someone trying to fix up the damn building.

In fairness, those assumptions weren’t exactly bad... 

They were just the wrong ones. 

The sounds repeated, and whatever it was reverberated from the broken windows in a way that properly allowed it to be heard in its entirety. It was closer this time, more full. “What the...”

It was a series of bassy pops, collectively almost imitating the blast of fireworks, but within the sounds were these clinks like something was falling on the floor right after. 

And though it was a very muffled detail, that took a moment for your brain to register, it didn’t stop the cogs from making their final turn. 

“Oh, shit.” 

Within the same moment that you had made the decision to practically slide to the side, trying not to completely slam into the wall that you ended up behind, the doors of the building burst open with such force that it echoed.

There was a chorus of yelling, even more shots, and heavy boots that practically skidded against the concrete as they moved. Like you had just stumbled across a damn army.

You were sat on the ground, one leg stretched out from your hurried movements while the other was still bent at the knee, ready to move if necessary. The backpack was still strapped around your shoulders meaning that the further you tried to press against the brick wall, the more certain items began to stab into your back.

Your heart was hammering, chest heaving, as you continuously looked up and down the path you sat on. 

It was the only thing you could see. Everything was happening on the other side of the wall, so pretty much all you could do was just sit and listen for the people that might decide to come your way.

You fought the urge to cry out when bullets skimmed the top of the wall, causing little clumps of rubble and dust to hit the top of your head. “Why me, why me, why me!” you hissed through a whisper, trying to ruffle the stuff out of your hair. 

Hurried shouts were passing back and forth across the huge car park like a game of tennis, though it seemed that due to the other sounds that followed, and the panicked state of your mind, all of them were unintelligible. It sounded like they were coming from everywhere.

The multiple objects in your bag had started to make your spine ache so, at the same time as yet another shot, you leaned forward. Quick enough that the sound of items unsquashing themselves would ring at the same time as the bullet. 

You reached back, making sure that your bag wasn’t going to hit any surface, and then took it off one arm at a time before the bag was finally placed in front of you.

Your fingers immediately unzipped it to begin the search. You wanted some kind of weapon, or if not that then at least some form of protection... But you had in fact just gone shopping. 

I doubt a banana would be useful in a gun fight. 

So, you moved onto the pockets that sat on either side of the bag. A huff of air passed through your lips while your hand shuffled through the left pocket. You felt around, following the lining of stitches for at least something, but the most found was a wrapper from some candy or gum. 

So, it was on to the next. 

This time, to do the same routine, was a bit more difficult as this pocket was where you kept your water bottle. A more careful process as you started to comb through the compartment. 

And then, finally, you felt something.

In that moment it was hard to tell what it was. It felt long enough to at least administer some form of damage, or maybe only threaten someone from a distance, so your stressed mind just chose it. You began pulling your hand out. 

But, despite what you wanted, it wasn’t going to be that easy. 

Right as the item had been tugged vertically, an attempt to make it easier to pull it out, the movement had caused the bone of your wrist to hit into the bottle.

Ordinarily, it was something that you wouldn’t think twice about. You were just trying to get an item out of a pocket, surely you could do that without something bad happening... 

However, half of whatever you were trying to grab had been stuck under the bottle in a way that already had it tilting. And then the impact landed. Your wrist hit near the top of the bottle and that was all it needed. 

It started to tip out of the pocket. 

A sharp breath sucked into your lungs at the feeling, but with no ability to catch it in time, the metal cylinder simply fell to the floor from a very unfortunate height for you. 

In fact, even after the sound echoed in a way that most definitely had already blown your cover, the world seemed to have other plans for you as after yet another bounce and a few more smaller ones, it was starting to roll. 

You leaned to the side as fast as you could, reaching your arm out to its full extent with your hand wide open. But it was like trying to catch a fly, and soon, it just rolled right passed your fingers, moving even faster the more the water sloshed inside of it. 

The only thing you could do was watch in utter horror as the bottle travelled right passed the edge of a wall for the whole world to see. 

And eventually, about halfway through the path, it ran into a rock or a crack in the ground. The bottle bounced about one more time before it finally stalled. Though, at this point it didn’t really matter. 

The shots had placated a bit, the only ones being fired sounding farther away, as murmurs of confusion had dispersed through men on the other side of the wall. 

“What was that?

“Did you hear that?

“Where did that come from?” 

Your eyes squeezed shut, teeth biting into the skin of your bottom lip as your body just purely froze no matter how much your brain was telling you to make a run for it. 

“Okay, okay, all of you keep moving! Spread out more while I check it out. We’re not alone out here!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Okay, sir!”

However many people were on the other side of the wall scattered within the next beat of your heart. More shots and shouts began to ring out with the same loudness, now joined by the heavy smacking of boots as they moved further away...

But a pair of footsteps still remained. 

Now, your heart was purely thumping in your ears. It was by far the most prominent thing you could hear in that moment, though the sound of those harsh shoes kicking up stones without care was an active competitor. 

Especially when they started getting louder. 

Your eyes flicked to the open backpack in front of you, an ache beginning to pulse through your forehead while you stared at the contents. 

There was this sort of desperation, and almost disappointment, that built in your system at the thought of losing the freshly bought items. Though, what was the point in trying to save the food if you wouldn’t be alive to eat it. 

Within the next second, and after a very deep breath, you propped your hands firmly against the path below on either side of your body. You pushed your strength into the unstretched leg until it was folded under you. 

By now you looked like some kind of runner getting ready to do race, and honestly it was pretty much how you felt. The thought was the only thing suppressing the panic active in your chest, so you indulged.

There was this internal count down as you moved your other leg behind, even if there wasn’t that much space to do so. And then the timer went off. 

You were about to push yourself onto your feet. About to get up, adopt a sort of hunched over posture so that no part of your body could peak over the wall, and run like hell.

But again. It wasn’t going to be that easy.

A movement was caught from the corner of your eye. 

You had barely even started carrying out your wanted movements when a man suddenly appeared right round the corner of the wall, slow and intense. 

He was pretty decked out from what your panicked mind could comprehend. There were a multitude of weapons that clung to his belt, and he was in fact holding this massive gun. 

Initially, his focus was on your bottle. The barrel of the gun was pointed directly at the object of confusion, as it didn’t really look like the standard water bottle from afar, his finger hovering over the trigger. Ready to fire at any moment. 

At this point you had resumed this sort of weird crouched position, stuck between wanting to stand up and staying frozen to the ground as if you could just meld into it. 

Either way, it was the kind of stance that didn’t provide a sense of balance. And soon, despite how much the dread utterly pooled at the bottom of your stomach like it did on a rollercoaster, you fell. Right on your ass.

The gun, that you had pretty much only seen in movies or on the news, was pointed right in your direction before you could even blink. 

You attempted to crawl backwards, winding round your backpack, eyes wide and fully open as they trained on the man who in turn had started to follow your movements. And then you stopped, knowing full and well what was coming even if you got to your feet. 

Your breathing was erratic, arms moving stiff and slow as you raised them above your head with your palms open, facing the man who made no implications that he was going to put that gun down. 

“Listen,” You gulped, “I didn’t see anything, I swear-- Look, there. My bag is there-- Take it. Take anything.” 

“Anything you want.” 

It was no use. No matter what way the words tumbled from your mouth, that finger never tried to move away from that trigger. 

You closed your eyes, feeling the way your body heaved with every breath, the way your hands shook. Your ears listened out for the wind, the wildlife that had most definitely moved on from here already, or just something that wasn’t from guns. 

But then a shot rung out. Right in front of you.

It was an indistinctive reaction when your body jolted at the sound as it echoed through the large area and pinged within the windows of the abandoned buildings. You had almost fallen, your arms springing down even if you thought there was no time to protect...

You could still move?

Your eyes snapped open, the ability to take in full breaths yet to come, and you looked down at yourself. You tried to scan across what you could see of your body, that was somehow still alive, and leant on a hand to further support yourself. 

However, just as your brain attempted to register a lack of a gunshot wound, the sound of something hitting the ground stopped your investigation. 

Your head sort of bobbed for a moment, the want to continue your search fierce in your veins, before your gaze finally tore away.

The man before you had tumbled to his knees. His hands were moving around for a few seconds, desperately trying to grab a part of his chest as if in disbelief of what just happened. 

And then another shot fired. 

Like before, your body had jolted in response, still having no idea which gun it was coming from. 

However, when a particular part of you scrunched, the shock in your system decided to completely drain, your pain receptors activated in a way that you weren’t at all ready for. 

It was hard to pin point exactly where the feeling had originated as it spread like a wildfire, but it was intense enough that the arm you were leant against almost buckled within seconds. 

Sharp burning. A sensation that made it feel like you had been bitten by thousands of fire ants over and over again. 

Or, when you finally managed to get yourself to look down again, it was because you had in fact gotten shot. “Oh...”

He got you.

“Oh, shit.”

There was this hurried voice that bounced through the walls. Your head attempted to snap up like it had previously done, but this time it was just unsteady. Almost like it was moving in points.  

By the next blink, that practically didn’t even feel like one, another man had made his way round the corner. He also had a gun raised... but, it seemed different.

His general stance, the way he carried the weapon, the expression on his face even if you could only see half of it. It was clear that he had a lot more experience than the last guy. 

They weren’t from the same group. 

The man lowered himself onto one knee beside the body, head still raised cautiously to make sure to keep full awareness of his surroundings while he searched over any pockets he could see. 

And then he stilled. 

You didn’t have to move, or even make a sound, for this guy to spot you.

Within about a millisecond the man had the gun right back in his hands in a way that had you immediately raising your own despite the pins and needles that ached through your muscles.

The world around you was starting to spin, making it more difficult to pay attention to the mans movements. “Don’t... Don’t kill.” Your lips were heavy, the ability to even part them becoming some kind of workout. 

And then, like someone just flicked a switch, it was like all the strength and power in your body decided to dissipate at once. 

For the second time now, you fell. Though, in this instance, it was your back that collided with ground in a way that had your head smacking into the concrete path right afterwards. 

Every inch of your skin felt hot, yet cold at the same time. You were trying to move, wanting nothing more than to get back up and go home. Just curl up in bed and forget this ever happened.

But the ability to even budge a limb had faded from your brain until you couldn’t even feel if your arms were lifted in the air or not.

So, you just laid there, eyes staring blankly up at the sky while your eyelids acted like they had forgotten their main function. “Hey!” 

And right before you gave into that nagging want for them to close, something blocked whatever view you had left, “Kid? Hey, kid, are you... Oh, no-- Kid, can you hear me?” 

You could feel hands on your arms, and soon, one had pressed onto the wound in a way that urged a gurgling sound from your throat. 

“Kid!”

~~~

It took your brain a significant amount of time to realise that you had awoken when the time eventually came. 

The sensations within your body were either mild or piercingly intense. There was no in between. 

Every muscle in your face was rigid, aching in a way that made the want to move diminish within seconds. You were trying to blink, your eyelids remaining heavy and ignorant no matter how many attempts were made. 

It hurt to breathe. Any movement within your torso would stretch the skin closest to your armpit and immediately sent a crackle of fire spreading through it like a shock of electricity. 

Your muscles flinched, almost spasming, as you slowly reached back, trying to grip onto some part of whatever lay beneath you so that you could push yourself up.

There was no attention aimed at any sound that spilt through your lips and it was only when a harsh pain erupted, engulfing your shoulder, that you had realised how loudly a sort of strained yelp had burst from your throat. 

You fell back onto the pillow, the agony in your body burning so hot that it had you light headed.

If it wasn’t for your current state the sudden echo of quick footsteps would’ve registered a lot faster through your ears, and in your mind. 

There was words passing across the air, some may have been aimed at you for a response, but this was the first time you had fully managed to open your eyes since you had actually woken up.

Your head slowly turned as voices continued to echo, muffled no matter how many times it rung in your ears, until your right cheek met with the pillowcase. Your eyes cast through a metal wall, more so the frame of one, which looked as if it previously had some sort of murky glass within.

The place was massive. 

This dim lightly spread throughout most sections as the source above couldn’t reflect on any surface due to the fact that everything around was either a form of black or a gloomy grey. The lights themselves were also the kind of ones that aimed straight down, meaning that it would only cover what was directly beneath. 

“Hey.”

In the centre of the main area was this sort of ring. There was a walkway that cut through the middle so that people could get from one side to the other, and on either side were desks that followed the rim, a plethora of monitors and electronic devices cluttering the surface. 

Some you hadn’t even seen before.

“Hey, uh, kid?”

Your head snapped back into its previous position in a speed that felt like it shook your brain. You squeezes your eyes shut for a good minute before they opened again. 

And after blinking a few times, your vision came back into focus. 

There was this dude stood to your side. He was tall, slim in width with curled mid length hair and a beard that wasn’t connected to the moustache covering his lip.

“Oh, yeah-- Must be pretty disorienting to wake up in a place like this.” The way he sounded matched almost exactly like you had guessed. It was nice. Not harsh and not too soft. 

He held your gaze in such a way that made it seem as if he could see right through you, even taking a slight step back when he noticed how wide and cautious your eyes were set on him, “It might take some time for you to believe us, but I assure you that we don’t want to harm you. You’re all good... Well, I mean, apart-- apart from your injuries.”

“Generally, you’re good-- Or like... Yeah.” 

Your hand lifted from where it had previously flopped and you reached it to your left shoulder, slow and steady. 

Your fingers travelled lower, gliding across the exposed skin before it reached the edge of tank top arm slot. Your movements halted in the space between the end of your shoulder bone and the beginning of your chest. 

Finally, you realised where the source of pain was coming from.

Somehow, the shot taken at you had landed right above your first rib. And from the uncomfortable feeling, constantly there, from what you were guessing was another bandage on your back. It had gone all the way through. 

The dude that had been previously talking cleared his throat after a moment. He was sort of shifting the weight back and forth from one foot to another, unsure of what to do or say which then ended up with him looking away. 

Your attention landed back on him, your arm happily moving back to lay by your side. Though, your eyebrows then furrowed, realising that the guys eyes had settled on something, and it even looked like he was asking a question.

So, after allowing yourself to give into your curiosity, you followed the direction he was looking in. 

You almost jumped out of your skin.

There, leaning against the thing you could barely call a wall, to your right was a guy stood perfectly still with his arms tight across his chest. 

It was that man from earlier. The one that found you. Saved you?

His eyes were already on your own which left the questioning gaze from the other dude unanswered. At first the muscles in his face were visibly tense, crinkled eyebrows, slightly narrowed gaze, jaw clenched tightly. 

And then you looked at him. 

In an instant it was like everything taking over his features eased. He raised his head a single time before it lowered back to where it was usually held. A greeting. 

“I’ll bet your hungry, huh?”

Your attention snapped back to the other dude once again to find that there was this gentle smile pressing into his lips once your eyes met his. 

The question circled round your mind for a good few seconds before it fully processed. It had you thinking, a silence falling within the little room while the hum of electricity barely caught your ears. 

In all honesty hunger had been the last thing on your mind. To solve the sudden mystery was even more difficult since you couldn’t even remember the last thing that passed through your body, other than a bullet. 

Though, right before you could even try to figure out the wanted response was to be, it seemed like your stomach decided to do it for you as it suddenly rumbled through the quiet. 

It may have not exactly sounded like some kind of missile, but considering the building was very echoey and your lack of answer had created a pause within the people stood in the room, it was louder than any other sound at that moment. You were horrified.

The man with his arms crossed dared to huff a quiet laugh through his nose and before you could even send him a look, or give any sort of reaction for that matter, the other guy took a step back with this expression on his face.

He was practically beaming as he clasped his hands together, “Good answer.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed once again, gaze now following the man as he moved round of what you now realised was a cot underneath you and out through the doorway a moment later.

You were going to attempt to continue watching him, wanting to know where he was walking despite the context clues, but after trying to look through the empty frames in the wall, the figure of the quiet dude blocked your view.

And for the first times since your initial meeting, if you could even call it that, your eyes properly took him in. 

Regardless of the position of his spine from the leaned pose, his posture was sharp. Straight like he had to practice it many times. He was tall too, though a little shorter than the other guy. 

The hair on his head looked like it was just growing out from being shaved, the sides a lot shorter than the top. It looked like a marine cut. 

Admittedly, he could’ve done his hair that way cause he simply wanted to. But you saw him earlier. 

He knew the ins and outs, every little detail, of the gun he held strong in his arms. You saw his stance, one that could more commonly only be from having to do it 24/7. 

And where was the most known place where you had to stand at attention almost every day?

Any item of clothing that covered his body was full black, including the shoes and his belt, which was a drastic contrast to any skin that was exposed. It also meant that you could spot any cut or bruise he had very easily. 

There was a good few on his face. Some had become scabs already, looking like they had been there for some time, while others almost looked fresh. The most noticeable appeared like it followed his cheekbone. 

Your eyes immediately snapped away upon realised that you had been looking at him for so long that he had in fact noticed it. I mean, there wasn’t really anything else to occupy his mind. 

You tried to shift your body against the cot, a mixture of wanting to distract yourself and a test to see how much you could move without it hurting. 

But either way, it was hard to do anything without being able to properly use a side of your body.

So, ultimately, you were stuck. Trapped under a blanket which forced you to lay flat on your back, against something that you wished had the same feeling as your bed, while sounds started to echo from what you were guessing was the kitchen. 

“Hey, kid.”

The voice that hit your ears was a lot gruffer than expected, gravelly enough that it almost sounded like it was hurting his throat. The way the words passed through his lips were clear, but also hushed as if he was trying not to be loud for an unknown benefit. “What were you doing out there, hmm?” 

With his stance, you half expected that whatever he wanted to say was going to come out harsh. That he was going to yell and tell you off for something. But he didn’t. He was... actually concerned?

“It’s a decent walk from the store you went to.” he then added on, and now that seemed to get your attention. 

Your head rolled to the side, narrowed gaze finding him with a newfound cautiousness. 

The man in turn must’ve realised the suspicion his wording caused, so he simply gestured to the side with his head, “I got your bag.”

Sure enough, as you moved your lower against the pillow, it was in fact there. The first familiar thing you had seen all day was sat on the ground beside the guy. It may have had some slight rips, some of the material had even been scuffed enough that it was visible. 

But it was there. Zipped up and everything.

Your favourite backpack.

Despite your distance, the bag looked plump with some of the contents clearly poking against the sides of it. All of the items were still in it. Hell, even the water bottle was back in the same side pocket you always put it in.

“We couldn’t find your name in the system,” the man spoke again, and honestly you had forgotten that he was there regardless of the fact that he stood next to where you eyes were aimed. “Did your parents know where you were?”

You looked at him within seconds of the question catching your ears and that dread from earlier began to pool at the bottom of your stomach all over again. 

I mean, you should’ve expected the question at some point.

It was common for you to forget that other people could look at you and see a child, ask the whole ‘where are you parents’ when you had to buy stuff that apparently didn’t seem normal for a child to get, even if it was just household items. 

You will never forget the time you tried to buy scissors. 

But the question still stung. It would make all of the memories of countless things flood right back until it was fresh in your mind, creating a wave of nostalgia that you hated at this point. 

Your head slowly rolled back to its previous position, your gaze now cast up at the rotting, grey ceiling while a deep breath seeped through your nose. Your body practically deflated when it went back out. 

Like before, you didn’t need to say anything for the guy to understand the situation.

Obviously, from your position, you couldn’t clearly see him as anything more than a blurred blob from the corner of your eye, but he had sort of loosened his crossed arms. Was the look of loss that clear on you?

How could he even notice it that quick?

Your body almost jolted when he cleared his throat and pain shot through your shoulder that had you biting back a grunt.

“Listen, we’re not-- We’re not going to hurt you... all right?” His tone was different this time. Lighter in a way that reduced the grumble of his voice, even if it didn’t sound unpleasant. “You’ve been here for a few days so that the, uh, big guy could fix up your shoulder.”

“That’s all.”

From the feeling of his gaze aimed in your direction, you could tell that he was doing what you had done, except he was more so trying to analyse your movement no matter how miniscule. 

It made you nervous enough that your mind was trying to zone in on the sounds coming from the kitchen, fiddling with the fabric of the blanket. But that just meant that a silence had started to layer. 

“Can you speak?”

Your body stiffened within a matter of seconds. 

At this point there was no reason for you to remain quiet. It was unclear as to why it had even been done in the first place. Was it to conceal your voice? Hide your identity? 

Even then, they had already ready seen your face and might possibly have looked through your backpack. The things they’ve could’ve known about you were unknown.

Maybe it was that thing you were told as a kid that kept you holding your tongue. You know, the whole stranger danger thing? Do not interact with people that you don’t know unless absolutely necessary. 

People seemed to get stuck on specific moments in the past regardless of it directly links to a moment of stress, or trauma, if you remembered correctly what that article said. Maybe that was your thing?

Your contemplative eyes flickered over the ceiling above for another moment before they finally made the decision to move, and so did your head. Once again, it rolled to the side until your right cheek touched the pillow.

You met his eyes. His gaze anything but harsh no matter how long a silence remained.

This guys wasn’t strange. 

I mean, the concept of waking up in some massive building that you didn’t recognise with two other dudes that you had never met before was in fact a little, sure.

But there was no reason given beyond that as to why you should fear either of them. Be scared of them. 

After all the dude talking to you had in fact saved your life.

You sniffed, that same feeling of nervousness making a comeback the longer the eye contact was held. It had you needing to look away for a few seconds before your eyes went right back. You stiffly nodded your head. 

The man straightened his back against the metal, his spine probably tired of the frame digging into it. His gaze sort of narrowed for a moment. Maybe a few questions sprung into his mind? Maybe he was judging you, or needed to sneeze? Who knows.

“You just won’t.” He nodded his head once, the look in his eyes switching to something unreadable as he got the message despite the lack of words, “That’s... No. No, I get it.”

“Well, I’m Frank. Uh,” he began, dragging out the last sound for a little bit as he tried to locate something through the wall behind you, “Dude in the kitchens name is David. I usually call him Lieberman, that’s... It’s his last name-- He’s the big guy I was talking about. Dude who fixed up your arm.”

“I tried to help too, but, uh... Not exactly my field of expertise.” 

You were about to figure out some kind of gesture to make in response so that you wouldn’t leave him hanging again. And had even started to move your arm. 

But then that name cycled through your head once more. 

Frank... Castle. 

Frank Castle.

It seemed that the cogs had made their final turn once again. His face found their link to certain memories in your mind.

Holy shit. 

He was the guy on the news a while back. The dude had been deemed a vigilante as he had been running around and killing bad people-- Well, it was practically only you and a few other people that thought they were the bad guys.

Either way, after that trial thing, the man that was currently stood to the side of you had supposedly died. Killed in an explosion on some kind of boat, if you remembered correctly.

I mean, it could be that you were the one who died and this was just what came after. And honestly if you were still as delirious as you were before it might have been believable, but that pulsing burning in your shoulder said otherwise. 

So, it was true. He really was here in the flesh, and all in one piece. 

Frank Castle was alive. 

Your expression, and maybe how intensely you had been staring at him, must’ve given away your thought pattern as he sort of tilted his head when he noticed the shift in your eyes, “You know me?” This time your gaze remained unfleeting in the line of attention. 

Frank didn’t seem at all worried about the realisation of his identity. In fact the only change in his expression was done to display his curiosity to the new information. 

Sure, worst comes to worst, he has the upper hand at this moment and it would probably be the same at any other. He could do whatever he needs to do to make sure that you wouldn’t blab before you blinked even once. 

But from his worn out state, and the way he interacted with you, it was visible that he wasn’t going to do that. He must’ve been fighting for quite some time before he had stumbled upon you. 

Why the hell was he even there? Out in the open in a place like that?

Who were those other guys?

Regardless of the want to let your mind flow down that rabbit hole, you were fronted with your previous realisation as your eyes actually focused on Frank again.

You were right. Frank  Castle wasn’t the bad guy.

Without paying attention to it, there seemed to be this smile that began to curl at the corners of your mouth. You moved your head began to move back to its your previous position, your eyes wanting to find the discoloured ceiling to zone out on in a way that further made you forget about your pain--

Shoes suddenly scuffed against the hard ground in a way that stilled all over your movements. Your gaze flickered to whatever had joined you in the room as apparently you had missed the approaching footstep.

It was David, the height difference between the two guys now a lot clearer as he had stopped beside the man whose arms were yet to uncross. “Can you hold this for a second?” Until now. 

Frank sort of looked at the man for a moment, eyebrows furrowed again before he complied to the request. And the moment the plate had been taken into his hands, David moved as if on autopilot. “All right,”

He wound round the foot of your cot, taking back the same position he stood in when you woke up, “Gonna need to sit up so you can actually digest this shit.”

He felt a little bad when he saw the look on your face, though he remained still while you prepared yourself, starting to fidget with his hands. He didn’t want to touch you without permission, but it appeared that your eyes were already closed.

You slowly but surely moved the arm of your injured shoulder to sling across your torso, hoping the position would stop it from moving about too much. And then you braced yourself, awaiting whatever sensations were about to come. 

By the time a hand had been placed on your body, your teeth were already gritted. One was placed on your back, a way to properly bring guide you into the needed position, while the other gently cupped the back of your head so that everything would move in unison. 

“Deep breath.”

The pain was immediate. It was such a thing that purely seared up a side of your body. Engulfed everything in its path.

It was impossible to see from your closed eyes, but there was a reaction from the man stood to the side when a slight whine escaped your throat. He had stepped forward, looking as if he was about to reach out if he didn’t have something in one of his hands. 

It was thoughtless. A movement that he had undone the moment he had realised by pressing back against the wall. But it happened nonetheless. 

David was muttering stuff of assurance, many forms of sentences letting lose into the air. You couldn’t hear it. Couldn’t catch onto a singular word. 

All you could think about was the pain. How stupid it was that you made the decision to take that route. How you didn’t run back the way you came after that first shot. Or how you didn’t even end up trying run until it was too late. 

Your legs bent at the knees the more your torso raised, as if trying to protect it of something, which slightly kicked up your blanket and made the heels of your feet dig into the cot below. “There you go, there you go!”

It was like a ripping of a band aid. 

At first, it was the stage of holding onto the edge, trying to hype yourself to get it over and done with. And then it was off. It may give a twinge of pain that lingered more than wanted, but overall the act had been complete.

“Right on, that’s you done.”

And so had yours. 

The biggest breath of relief huffed out of your mouth in a way that had David wanting to lightly pat your back, but it could accidently hurt you. So, instead, he resorted to turning his attention Frank, hurriedly gesturing towards the thing he held.

The man in question seemed to shake his head as if trying stifle his amusement, though he took a step forward to hand over the plate either way.

And then, by the next time you had blinked, it was held out in your direction. You just looked at it for a moment. 

It was a sandwich. One that may have been made with the most simple ingredients, and was probably the exact replica of what you would picture in your head upon hearing the name, but for some reason your whole body yearned for it. 

The plate was in your hands within seconds.

David took a step back, a slight smile reappearing on his lips at the progress. He gestured to the plate you held in the same position and then towards your mouth, seeming like he couldn’t get himself to stand still, “Eat up.”

You were. 

Oh, a thousand percent, you were getting ready to chow down on something, since the last time solid food had been eaten was probably the day you had gotten shot. And even then, you had no clue as to when that was.

However, right as you were about to bring the plate onto your lap, grab onto the sandwich and consume it with the upmost excitement... You paused. Stopped right in your tracks. Eating by yourself felt a little weird.

You looked back at David. 

It took him a moment to realise that your eyes were on him again. But when he did, he sort of rocked on his feet. His eyebrows furrowed as he sent a look towards Frank, “What, um... Is it-- Is it bad, or something?”

There was a mixture of confusion and almost offence tugging at certain features and it had your head shaking immediately.

Within the next minute, it was almost like a game of charades as you attempted to relay the words in your mind. 

The plate remained in the hand it did before. You bent your left arm at the elbow, trying to avoid any movement that would attack the area surrounding your wound, and you gestured. 

The first time you pointed your index finger at him and then at the plate, but he merely blinked. So, you then did it in reverse, directing the line of attention to the plate and then him. 

Frank even seemed confused as he watched with narrowed eyes, apparently unable to deduced the situation himself which still left David with nothing. “Kid, I don’t... I can’t understand what you’re trying to say, are you-- are you allergic to something?” 

“Are you asking me what’s in it? If I made it, what--”

Biting back the biggest sigh of your life, and in the fastest way that you could in that moment, you restored to just holding out the whole plate towards him. Even repeated the previous gesture one final time to make your point. 

“Oh,” David dragged out the sound as he began to nod. Finally, he understood, “Yeah, man, I’m boutta make my own.”

He remained for only a moment more, watching as your plate slowly lowered to your lap so that it wouldn’t drop. And then he started walking again, moving back around the edge of the cot before making his way through the doorway.

Franks eyes were already on your own by the time your head turned in his direction, as if he expected it to happen. 

This time without accompanying the movement with gestures, you simply held out the plated food towards him. Franks head shook instantly, he even waved a hand, “It’s for you, kid. Need to get that strength back.” 

His eyes directed towards the kitchen almost immediately after. He was either counting on David possibly making him one or waiting for him to leave the kitchen so that he could do it himself.

Thing is though, he only gave you a reason as to why you should keep the sandwich held for yourself.

He didn’t say no. 

The plate was brought back to your legs, flat against your thighs, and then you began looking around. Your eyes scanned across any close surface for something that could be used as a cloth, something to wipe your hands with, but there was no luck. 

You resorted to just scrubbing your palms, and more importantly your finger tips, against the cleanest clothing you had under the blanket. And then you grabbed the sandwich. 

Despite what Frank thought was going to happen by the time his attention was once again redirected towards you, when the sandwich was held horizontally in your grasp, instead of bring it to your mouth and taking a bite. You began... pulling at it each side? 

It started to rip.

“What are you doing?” he questioned pretty much immediately, his face and voice both riddle with confusion. And maybe even a little disturbance. But that didn’t stop your movements at all. 

In fact the only time you had stopped was when the entire thing had been torn through the middle, completely halved. However, even after that, you reached for one of the parts. You took it from the plate, stuffing it into the hand of your unmoving arm.

And then you held out the plate all over again to the man with very furrowed eyebrows. 

He just looked at the poorly halved sandwich for a moment, a part of it being more of the contents that the bread, and then his eyes found yours. There was an unreadable expression within them.

When he still didn’t take it, and due to the fact that your arm was starting to get tired, you redid your act of holding it out towards him. 

And this time he couldn’t withhold a response. 

Frank scoffed, shaking his head in the same amusement from earlier while he stared at the plate calling his name, “You’re very persistent, aren’t ya.” 

Despite his point still standing, the consistent want for you to get the nutrients needed to fully recover, it was like he couldn’t say no to you. At least to your face. So. Frank took the plate.

The next few minutes were spent by the two of you choosing the perfect side of the sandwich and then going to town, chowing down on it like it was the first one either of you had ever had. 

And man, that David could sure make a meal, even if it was just slapping ingredients between slices of bread.

“Damn!”

Seemed like someone else agreed with you.

“So, this is what you’ve been doing all this time, huh, Lieberman? Cookin’” Franks words were incredibly muffled despite his constant chewing, but either way the sound still echoed. A laugh soon followed while something poured, “What else would I do, man? Wasn’t just gonna do nothing.”

“Well, you can add cooking to your... I don’t know, list of talents or something.” Every time that man spoke, his head lowered right back down so that he could see the plate, taking another massive bite that you were just waiting for him to start choke on.

“Why did you... Why did you say it like that?” David's voice was more monotonous than usual, either playing fake offence or he was too preoccupied with arranging the order of his sandwich ingredients. 

You took another bite, a piece of lettuce almost falling onto the blanket without you knowing. Frank turned towards the kitchen again, speaking midway through putting a part of the sandwich in his mouth, “Like what?” A plethora of crumbs fell onto the plate in a way that made your nose crinkle.

“Like... Are you lying to me? Lying isn’t very nice, Frank.” 

“Nah, come on, man, I wouldn’t-- I wouldn’t say that If I didn’t mean it, you know that-- You could put these in a-- a--  a sandwich shop--”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, okay,” David practically grumbled at this point, placing down what sounded like a butter knife on the counter before he sniffed, “That at least mean that our little friend likes it too?”

Frank turned to you, placing the little chunk of sandwich he had left onto his plate before he rubbed the fingers that touched it together. 

You swallowed down your bites, the act proving to be a little harder to from the lack of eating solid food, and noted the fact that he was awaiting some form of answer to relay to David. 

Your sandwich was finished by now. It wasn’t a contest but it was almost wild how fast it had been consumed. And now you sat there, wiping your hand against your trousers while attempting to get any food stuck between your teeth. 

And then you cleared your throat, your nose scrunching for a second when the action ended up shaking your chest a little too much, “Y/n.”

Frank had turned his towards the kitchen moments prior. He had parted his lips, even slightly leaned back against the wall to get a proper view of the man awaiting an answer through the empty frames. 

Now his head snapped in your direction, eyebrows raising more than you had even seen, “What was that?”

You may have made the ultimate decision to use your voice in the first place, however, having that gaze of his on you once again caused this overwhelming feeling to surge through your body. 

Your spine had straightened, this time managing to ignore the shock of pain that hit your system, while your eyes widened just a smidge.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

The echo of David's voice had caused you to turn to where he stood in the kitchen, still busied with making another one of his masterpieces. It was something done half out of anxiousness and just wanting to distract yourself.

And then it made you think.

Surrounding you was this big, more empty than full, abandoned building. The only other people there was Frank, a man who was supposed to be dead, and David... who you presumed was also most likely to be the same due to their team up. 

If they were going to kill you, or hurt you, they would have done so already. 

But even then, when you woke up this morning you hadn’t been restrained or anything. There was nothing keeping you there other than the fact that they wanted to treat your wounds. 

A deep breath filtered through your nose as your eyes slowly met with Franks again. 

His expression was practically the same as it was before you had looked away, giving you a patience no one ever had. The gaze he held was warm. Encouraging. 

Thus, you swallowed once again.

“My... name.” Your voice was hoarse from waking up not that long ago, but also from it’s lack of use. There was always this feeling in your throat as if something was stuck in it, and you coughed, the urge to squeeze your eyes shut presenting itself yet again when it shifted your shoulder.

But you composed yourself, sucking in another breath and rubbing your hands against your legs while David was still left with no answer, “It’s Y/n.”

Franks head had already been nodding before you had finished saying your set of words. He pursed his lips, finally swallowing down the bite he had previously taken.

Frank sniffed, turning his head towards the kitchen yet again. Though this time it seemed like he did so to conceal the change of his facial expression more than to get David's attention. “You hear that, Lieberman?”

Regardless of his attempts to hide his reaction, the smile was clear on his lips. Such a one that it had even reached the skin around his eyes as they started to crinkle.

He looked back at you. There was this emotion on his face that remained unchanging. It seemed like a fondness, but at the same time he almost looked... proud?

“Y/n likes it.”

[amhrosina]

Frank Castle x Reader Instagram AU

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAGLIST

(a/n: this is something new that i’m trying and it won’t be replacing my fics at all i just wanted to try something new!!! if it flops then oh well lol i didn’t mean for this to be so dog-centric but there’s a LOT of pictures of jon with his dogs, please enjoy and if you have requests for more instagram au’s please send them!!!)

Liked by frankcastle, karen_page, nelson.foggy, and 742 others

yourusername love my family <3 (photo taken by yours truly!)

View all 49 comments

frankcastle We love you more sweetheart.

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

nelson.foggy i love love!

matthewmurdock You literally gagged and said 'gross' when this picture first showed up on your phone.

yourusername foggy!!

nelson.foggy i didn't realize i was best friends with a snitch, matt.

karen_page this is such a great photo of them! how did you get him to sit so still?

yourusername frank or max? neither of them likes to cooperate.

billsrusso fucker’s old

yourusername i hope you’re talking about frank and not my darling child

billsrusso of course dear

frankcastle Fuck y’all🖕🏼

Liked by yourusername, david.micro, curtisss, karen_page, and 58 others

frankcastle This dog’s always in my face about somethin’

View all 11 comments

yourusername he’s asking for more treats (which you should give him because he’s the goodest boy)

frankcastle You already gave him two today!

yourusername three, but who’s counting???

david.micro he’s trying to reach you about your car’s extended warranty

curtisss big love!

Liked by frankcastle, imnotdaredevil, nelson.foggy, and 698 others

yourusername save a horse ride a cowboy ammiright???

View all 36 comments

frankcastle I can’t believe you used THAT caption🤦🏻‍♂️

yourusername i knew you’d love it😇

matthewmurdock right!

matthewmurdock oh shit, wrong account

imnotdaredevil right!

yourusername NOT THE FINSTA MATT💀

frankcastle What the fuck is a finsta?

Liked by yourusername, billsrusso, matthewmurdock, and 68 others

frankcastle putting in work with my favorite alter boy @ matthewmurdock

View all 17 comments

yourusername shit, baby!😮‍💨

frankcastle 😏

matthewmurdock i can’t tell if this is an insult or not

frankcastle it is

yourusername it’s not

nelson.foggy clearly my invitation was lost in the mail

billsrusso hell yeah brother!

frankcastle Come by when you want to get some real work done, brother💪🏼

- - -

yourusername added to their story

- - -

frankcastle added to their story

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

Tag List (I did make a section in my tag list request form for Instagram AUs if you want to update your form!!):

@xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @callsign-mama @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @merleisapartygod @babyslyth @legocity2 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @deliciousfestsalad @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy @theesexystallion @scoliobean @myguiltypleasures21 @dnxgma @evyiione @gpenguin666 @desert-fern @day-dreaming-goddess @rayray787 @ginnysculture @ryebreadsworld @laaundromat @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @lilyevans1 @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @xshewayout @blep--bloop @kpopgirlbtssvt @aynsleywalker @queenofthenoobs

[leahkenobi]

between the crosshairs

frank castle x fem!reader

word count: 2k

summary: you did everything possible to forget the day that the devil of hell’s kitchen and frank castle had saved you. somehow, even your own repression of memories wasn’t enough to keep you safe from enemy arms.

warnings: allusions to sa, guns, kidnapping, reader witnesses a murder, mentions of blood, anxiety, mostly just cannon typical stuff, frank calls reader baby but relationship is undefined

a/n: alright. i’m not gonna act like i’m great at this whole keeping up with a blog thing, it can be quite a struggle for me. but i just got POUNDED with ideas for mr. frank castle thanks to @oliviajdjarin telling me to watch daredevil. so here this is. this is set during the daredevil s2 finale!

a/n 2: to preface this fic if you are reading this, i’m intending to turn this into a bit of a universe if that makes sense. like multiple fics within the same setting and relationship situation. idk. no promises, but that’s the intention. so i suppose this is the first part. if you would like to join the frank tag list lmk and i would be happy to add ya!

the walk home from josie’s was brisk and lonely. the snow was just beginning to flutter down and the wind was whipping it in your face. it was a safe journey you had trekked time and time again.

you stepped over broken glass and other littered items on the side walk and as muscle memory took over, your mind drifted.

he couldn’t be dead, truly, could he? if he wasn’t, where was he? was he safe now?

since the day frank had saved you from the hands of a kitchen irish member, he had been the only thing on your mind. granted, he had help from the devil of hell’s kitchen, but frank was who you always went back to. the way he had soothed you, the way he had taken care of those men who had tried to hurt you, who had tried to take something from you-

you snapped from the memories at the sound of glass crunching behind you. it wasn’t abnormal for others to be walking this street at the late hour, it had happened plenty of times. you moved in unison for a while until the steps behind you increased in speed.

you kept moving, increasing your pace as well, assuming that it was just someone in a hurry. surely they weren’t following you, right?

as the mysterious person on your tail increased their speed even more to match your own, you stuck your hand into your bag, fishing through it for the little pink pepper spray you bought before you had moved to the city.

you risked a peek over your shoulder to see a man with a black ski mask covering his face, and the only thought that came to mind was fuck, you could really use frank right now.

you stopped on the side walk, knowing that running was pointless. you would never outrun this man in heels, and if you could find that damn pepper spray and hit him with it, you could have a chance.

you pulled it out, turning to spray him just as he pulled out his gun, pointing it right at your chest.

your panic rose instantly. even during your altercation with the kitchen irish, a gun was never pointed at you. a whimper nearly left your throat as the man spoke to you.

“drop that fucking pepper spray, don’t say a word, and don’t fight. come easily and quietly, and we won’t have a problem,” the man said to you.

you didn’t release the pepper spray. you tried to push it down, tried to get it to work but the damn thing was jammed-

“i said drop it. drop it now, come with me. now,” the man said with force. every part of your body screamed at you to run, to fight, to do anything to keep this man at bay.

but he took a step closer, bringing the gun right to your chest, right over your heart.

“now,” he repeated. and the pink pepper spray clattered to the ground.

————————————

you were taken to a van filled with others just like you, others that had bound hands and terror written on their faces.

on the trip to wherever these kidnappers, or human traffickers, or murderers (hell you didn’t know) were taking you, an older man tried to stand up for himself, for all of you there. only to be shot through the head.

the fear you felt in that moment was inexplicable. your whole body was burning, your ears unhearing, your eyes watering and your mind running circles. this wasn’t real, this wasn’t real, it wasn’t real-

but it was. it was real and you were here in a van filled with screaming people and the smell of copper was filling the air and the blood was pooling around you.

and then you were being thrown out of the van, onto the cold concrete, knees scraping against it. only to be hauled up again and chased into a building, gun held to your lower back.

all sense of reality was pulled from under you. all you could think was survive survive survive. so you didn’t scream. you weren’t a nuisance. as they threw you into a room, you didn’t cry, you didn’t so much as flinch.

because the less you reacted, the less likely they were to kill you. when the kind looking blonde woman and the beat up man were being targeted by your captors, while they attempted to cut the man’s foot off, you sat stoically. completely unflinching, unmoving as the man screamed and the woman begged and the screams of others filled the room-

and then he was bursting through the window. the devil of the kitchen was here again, to save you all, to get you out. as he took out the men with guns, the other captives ran. as you remained on the ground, hardly thinking anything of the scene, the blonde woman grabbed your bound hands with her own. she shouted at you.

“get up, cmon get up,” she said frantically. her voice pulled you from your stupor, igniting you instinct to survive. she would lead you out, you would survive.

and you did. you made it out. you watched as the blonde woman went to her friend or boyfriend or brother, whoever he was.

you stood there in the middle of the street, unsure of what to do now. you were out, but your mind couldn’t move quick enough. you needed to go- get somewhere safe, but where? and how? where even were you?

your breathing rate must have increased because the nice man with the blonde woman approached you.

“hey, are you alright miss?” he asked.

you breaths kept coming out fast and labored.

“that’s okay, you don’t have to answer. my name is foggy, and that woman over there is karen,” he spoke softly, “can i cut these off of you?”

you nodded firmly, you needed out, needed free, needed to be away from here.

your hands were free, and slowly your breathe came back to you. you had needed the added freedom to move as you wished, and not feel like a captive, apparently.

“do you have a family?” karen asked, her voice kind and gentle.

you shook your head, “no, i-i not here.”

“that’s okay,” she said smiling faintly, “what about a boyfriend, or husband. maybe any friends?”

you shook your head. you had one friend, one who was unreliable, but somehow always there when you needed him. he had always been there, but he was gone now.

“alright, we can take you home,” she said, looking to foggy for help and confirmation. but his gaze was fixed elsewhere, focused in on the roof where some sort of fight was breaking out.

shots were heard by all of the people who were flooded in the street. loud, piercing gun shots. panic swelled in your chest once more, not sure of where the shooter was aiming.

but the shooter would never aim at you. no, that was his girl down there, his girl stood in between that lawyer and the blonde who he’d met through him.

that was his girl he saw in his crosshairs, shaking in the street, wrists bloody and red.

“y/n?” he muttered to himself quietly on the roof.

he wanted to run to you. right now, he wanted to jump from these buildings, climb down, get to you. you were bleeding and he needed to get to you, to keep you safe, protect you-

but he couldn’t. because he was dead. he was dead and he couldn’t just run into the bustling street filled with cops and strangers who had all known him as the punisher.

he couldn’t do anything as you were coaxed into a car with the lawyer and karen. he couldn’t get down there to stop the car, to get to you.

but he could meet them at the location. he could find you again. they would probably bring you home or to their office, maybe even karen’s apartment. he would find you, search all over this goddamn city to get to you.

————————————

karen spoke with you softly in the car, asking about where you lived and where you worked. you could hardly focus on what she saying to you, confused about why she needed to know what you did for a living. you couldn’t understand that she probably was trying to figure out who to call to check in on you- even if it was just a coworker, you needed someone right now.

eventually, you reached your home. foggy and karen helped you inside your apartment, carefully walking you up all the stairs to the quaint studio style living space.

as soon as you reached your door, you pulled out your spare key from under the welcome mat and began to turn it in the lock.

“um.. thank you for helping me and bringing me home. that was… that was very kind,” you said to the two of them.

foggy gave you a nod. “it was no problem, honestly. i’m just glad we’re both okay,” karen said. you couldn’t understand how you had both been in the same situation and you could hardly function while she was here, bringing you home. how you had both seen that man get shot, how you had both been in that room-

she cleared her throat. “here, why don’t you give me your phone so i can give you my number. that way if you need anyone, you have me to text or call,” karen said.

“okay,” you nodded softly and gave her your phone, cracked from having been in your pocket.

“try to get some rest,” karen said after entering her number and turning to leave.

“i’ll try,” you responded politely, knowing just how unlikely that was. these past few days had been too much. with frank, with work, with this now too, you couldn’t take anymore.

“g’night,” foggy shouted as he climbed down the stairs with karen.

you didn’t even have the energy to respond.

you pushed open the door to your apartment, ready to collapse on the ground instead of attempting to get to your bed. it was all too much, you just needed to lay down for a while.

as you closed the door behind you, your back turned to the room, you heard a voice you never thought you would hear again.

“y/n,” frank said.

you whipped your head. and there he was, standing in the middle of the room waiting for you. expecting you.

“frank?” you questioned, knowing the answer, knowing he was there, right there.

“frank,” you said again, moving in closer, a slight whine in your tone.

“frank,” you said once more as he crashed into you, holding you together as you sobbed into him, as all of the pieces you were holding together while those nice people brought you here fell apart.

“oh y/n,” he said, pulling you impossibly closer, his jacket brushing against your tee.

“please,” you said, not even sure what you were asking for at this point.

“shh shh shh,” frank whispered, “it’s going to be okay, i’m here now, i’m here.”

you clung to him, the fabric of his coat bunched under your hands. he was here now. it would be okay.

“i won’t let them hurt you again, y/n. i swear,” he said.

you only sobbed into him harder.

hours could have passed, but you would have had no idea. all you could feel was him, his body holding you up. his presence keeping you safe.

“i’ve got you now, baby,” frank said, gently pulling you off of him to look at your face. his callused hands met your soft face, brushing away the tears that hadn’t quite stopped falling.

“let me see,” he said, grabbing a hold of your hands and wrists.

he inspected them, raw and bloody from the restraints.

he tutted. “what did they do to you?” he spoke more to himself than to you.

he brought you to edge of the sink, lifting you with ease onto the counter. he examined your knees while he had you sat up there. bloody with bits of gravel, he knew that cleaning those cuts wouldn’t be fun.

“i’ll take care of you, y/n. i got you,” he assured again, and all you could do was lean your tired head against his shoulder.

taglist:

@oliviajdjarin

[toothcowboy-gonefishing]

in The Punisher Season One hell

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Drunk on You

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader 

summary: After losing a bet, Frank's drunk night turns into a nightmare when he accidentally leaves a VERY honest voicemail on your phone. (Prompt: "I need to see your phone.")

warnings: swearing, excessive drinking (do NOT do this.), Frank being affectionate

a/n: This wasn't requested by anyone, I just saw this prompt and immediately pictured Frank freaking out about a voicemail he left on someone's phone. A huge shout out to @gracethyomen and @madschiavelique who I forced into beta-ing this for me multiple times. As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated. Thank you!

w/c: 6k (Yah, i know. I got carried away.)

Frank liked to think that he was decently romantic—so it was almost embarrassing that your relationship happened by accident. 

He didn’t possess a natural charm, like the one that Red always flaunted, but he could usually hold his own when he found someone attractive. Before…everything, his cocky attitude and unjustified youthful arrogance helped him flirt with Maria. Since the loss of his family, flirting was more of a pastime. Until you. 

From the moment you both met, Frank had known that you were different—that you were never meant to be a casual fling. It terrified him, at first, but after many many lectures from Curtis, he was ready to try a relationship again. 

Despite that fact, he could never seem to get the words out. 

Flirting with you was as easy as pulling a trigger, but being honest and open about his feelings? Never his strong suit. He was just thankful that Curtis believed in boundaries and David was oblivious, otherwise you would’ve gotten the news through the grapevine weeks before he blurted it out. 

It all started when David scolded him.

“Language, Castle. This is a family establishment.” His stern tone was completed with a pointed finger.

The two men were seated on opposite sides of the Lieberman’s sturdy dining room table, on the precipice of one of their classic “Family Dinner Spats”–a term Curtis had coined exasperatedly a few weekly meals ago. You, Sarah, and Curt were also currently at the table, nursing your wine while the kids played video games in the living room.

Smirking at David's tone, you raised a brow at the curly haired man. “Can you really call your suburban house an ‘establishment’?”

Frank chuckled at your attempt to defend him, his lips parting around the lip of his beer bottle in a smug smile.

“The house has been established, and there is a family present.” David snapped at you with a no-nonsense look. Looking at his wife incredulously, he threw his hands in a vague gesture. “C’mon Sarah, back me up!”

Sarah shrugged at him, grinning at his defeated groan. Shooting you and Frank a knowing look, she murmured, “We’ve all heard worse.“

Desperate for someone to agree with him, David glanced across the table pleadingly. “Curtis? C’mon man.”

Sighing, Curtis nodded, his lips twitching in a tiny smile. “You do have a foul mouth, Frank. There are children present.”

Frank scoffed, gesturing widely to the two teenagers in the other room.

Crinkling your nose as you stifled a laugh, you nodded solemnly. “They sort of have a point, Frank. Your vocabulary could make a sailor blush.”

Finally vindicated, David crowed, “You practically only speak in curses and grunts!”

The marine gaped. “Christ, I am not that bad.”

Smelling a game, David’s eyes glinted with mischief. “Oh yah? I bet you couldn’t go a week without swearing.

Sarah and Curtis took the vague challenge, and Frank’s responding bitter laugh, as their cue to leave the table, murmuring about cleaning up after dinner and chuckling to each other as they left. You, unfortunately, were far too intrigued to remove yourself from the conversation.

Good thing you were entertained, because David was far from finished with his accusations. “You know what? I don’t think you could even last a single day without that sinfully filthy language of yours, Castle.”

Frank rolled his eyes, but his jaw was tense. “Ya gonna make me a swear jar, Lieberman? What are you, my ma?”

David shrugged, pleased at how easily he was able to get under the hulking man’s skin. “Someone has to teach you some manners.”

You tapped a finger on your chin, meeting David’s roguish gaze. “He’s right though, a swear jar would never compel him to change.”

David crossed his arms. “And you have a better suggestion?”

Frank glanced at you, brow raised in curiosity, lips pursed.

You grinned manically. “Maybe a drinking game? Every curse word he says within 24 hours means he takes a shot.”

The technician erupted in bellowing laughter. “YES!”

Ignoring him, Frank smirked at you. “Tryin’ to get me drunk, sweetheart?”

You placed a hand over your heart in mock surprise. “Don’t tell me you’re chicken, Frankie.”

The large man bristled, straightening his posture as he shook his head. “Course not.”

David was glowing. “So you accept?”

“Uh—“ Frank’s hesitation was quickly settled by your adorable expression, your head tilted at him as you anticipated his next move. “Fuck, I guess.”

Practically screeching, David pointed a finger at the man, looking at you excitedly. “Oh my god, that counts right? That totally counts!”

Laughing as David practically began a victory dance, you raised your glass of wine. ”Let the game begin!”

What had he gotten himself into?

Unfortunately for his liver, the next 24 hours did not get easier.

With the combined efforts of you, Curtis, David, and the various CCTV systems of New York city, the tally landed at 52 curses in 24 hours.

“Holy shit, Frank,” You gaped at the final count, turning to him with wide eyes. “Were you even trying?”

Frank glowered, sinking further into the booth next to you. “Yes.”

“Well, we’re gonna need to change these rules a bit. Otherwise, you’ll need a transplant by next week.” You frowned, eyes glowing with the light of David’s computer screen.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft now, doll.” Frank muttered, the corner of his lips lifting up against his will.

“I’m always soft on you, tough guy.”Your words were earnest, causing Frank's throat to constrict. You raised a hand to pinch his cheek, seemingly unperturbed by his furious blush.

As if knowing he was ruining the moment, David returned to the table with a tray of half a dozen shot glasses. “Who’s ready to get wasted?”

Groaning, Frank dropped his head into his hands—his stomach already churning.

“New rules:” You announced, “No more than 7 drinks an hour.”

“Woah woah woah, who died and made you referee?” David scoffed.

“Everyone who has ever taken 52 shots in one night.” You retorted, refusing to change your mind.

While David began placing a row of tiny glasses in front of him, you took one of Frank's calloused hands in your much more delicate one. He raised his head to meet your serious gaze. “Hey, you do not have to do this. It was a stupid bet.” You were chewing on your bottom lip, his hand itched to cup your face and smooth the furrow in your brow.

“Um, he does so have to do this! I already put my card down. Drink up, asshole!” As David shoved the alcohol towards him, your arm shot out, acting as a barricade.

Looking at him with an inquisitive concern, you stroked your thumb over his knuckles. With a sigh, Frank grasped one of the shots between two fingers, downing it with a grimace.

David cheered. “Thattaboy! Drink up!!”

Biting your lip, you slid a single shot towards yourself and one to David. “If he’s going to do this, he’s not doing it alone. Drink up, Lieberman.” You teased, parroting his words before downing your own shot with a grace that was shocking and incredibly attractive. 

“Damn, that’s smooth. You shelled out for us.” You snorted, setting the shit glass back on the sticky table. 

Pouting at the tiny cup of clear liquid, David groaned. “I haven’t had tequila since college.”

“Sounds like you made a poor choice of beverage then. Drink!” You grinned at him, face warming as Frank slid an arm around your shoulders.

“She’s gotta point, Lieberman. You’ve dug your own grave. I ain’t drinkin’ another drop until you take that.” Frank smirked, eyes dancing with a mirth that you’d been missing.

“C’mon David!” You encouraged, the curly-haired man across from you finally nodding and downing the drink with a gag.

You and Frank cheered, laughing as he coughed in the aftermath.

“Alright, it’s gone. Your turn.” David nodded to the three remaining shots, crossing his arms impatiently.

Huffing out a breath, Frank tossed all three back, chasing the acrid taste with a swig of the beer he’d purchased himself without thinking. “There, ya fuckin’ happy now?”

“Thrilled.” David laughed. “We’re going to wait…15 minutes, and then I’m going to hustle you in pool.” Setting a timer on his watch, the engineer missed Frank’s exaggerated eye roll.

“Doesn’t a hustle require one party to not know they’re being hustled?” You asked, settling into Frank’s side with a smile.

“I could kick your ass with my eyes closed, Lieberman.” Frank snorted.

“Oh please, it's all geometry–I'm a whiz at geometry.”

Listening to them bicker, you couldn't help but smile. Sipping your beer, you crossed your legs, excited for the upcoming show.

As Frank's inhibitions grew steadily lower, you were joined at the booth by Curtis and Karen–both of whom were humored by the giant man's state, but not free of their own worry.

“Y’all trying to kill him?” Curtis chuckled, eyes focused on Frank's uncharacteristically wide grin as he slid into the booth across from you, beer in hand.

“Trust me, I’ve been negotiating Lieberman down all night to spare his intestines.” You huffed, your own gaze fixated on Frank as he lined up his next shot at the pool table, muscles bulging against his tight shirt as he bent over.

“See something you like?” Karen asked gleefully, lips curled in a smirk.

“Shut up,” You hissed, squirming in your seat as your body was hit with a flash of warmth.

“He's not making this easy for you, is he?” Curtis chuckled, sending Karen a knowing look.

“Does he always get so…touchy when he’s drunk?” You asked quietly, trying not to salivate as you got a perfect view of Frank's ass, his back turned towards you as he played his next turn.

Letting out a bark of laughter, Curtis shook his head at you.

“Oh stop it,” You groused, ignoring your friends' giggles as you slid off of the vinyl bench and made straight for the bar.

“Um whiskey. Neat, please.” You stammered out your order to the bartender, trying not to cringe at how disjointed the words sounded. Your mind was entirely preoccupied by the feelings you harbored for the man currently guffawing behind you. The scraping of glass on wood startled you out of your daydream.

Taking the glass from the bartender, trying not to meet their gaze as they eyed you suspiciously, you nodded a thank you.

Before you could return to your seat, a thick arm wrapped around your shoulders--a sensation that would've been horrifying had it not been accompanied by a familiar voice.

“When did ya start drinkin’ whiskey?” Frank's deep rasp ignited a heat deep in your gut, stealing the words straight off your tongue.

”I-I, uh didn't,“ You squeaked out, shoving the glass to Frank's chest. “I figured you’d want something other than mid-shelf tequila.” Looking up at him through thick lashes, your breath caught in your throat as you met his stare.

Frank's lips were tilted in a small smile, the tension he normally carried in his jaw nowhere to be found. His cheeks were flushed, his hair mussed from running his hands through it throughout the night. Boring into you, his beautiful ochre eyes crinkled with a happiness you rarely saw from the man.

A rough knuckle tipped your jaw upwards, shutting your mouth, which had apparently been hanging open as you admired the figure before you. “Somethin' on my face, sweetheart?”

Tilting his head, his eyes twinkled, his smile growing wider as you remained silent. “No, Frankie.”

“Good. C'mon, I need someone to cheer for me when I whup Lieberman's ass for a third time.” Frank snorted, pressing a kiss to your crown before taking your hand and dragging you towards the pool table.

The rest of the night flew by, a symptom of the intense focus you held on Frank's relaxed drunken nature. He'd been tipsy with you before, so you'd caught glimpses of this behavior from the man previously, but it would always catch you off guard to see him so...easygoing.

It wasn't that Frank wasn't affectionate, he was incredibly sweet, he just wasn't usually so forthcoming with his emotions. Nor was he normally content snuggling with you in public.

Rubbing his nose against your hair, Frank gave a sleepy hum before pulling back to down the rest of the ice water you'd forced into his grasp. His hand was gently gripping your waist, thumb tracing lines over your hip as your friends chatted. Frank was much too tired to be paying any attention, and your ability to retain any conversation topic flew out the window the moment his hand landed on your side.

Watching as his free hand lifted to clumsily scrub at his face, you frowned. “Wanna call it a night, Frank? You look ready to drop.”

“'M fine.” He grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Shit, you'd hoped the water would stave off the impending headache for now.

“The kid's right.” David remarked, smirking at your offended scoff. “If I'm beat, you must be half dead. I'll go close the tab."

"Can the rest of you make it home ok if I handle this one?" You asked, kneading at Frank's neck as he dropped his head to your shoulder with a grumpy huff.

"Yah, we can get David home in one piece." Karen promised, squeezing Frank's arm as she passed. "Goodnight."

"Ok, tough guy. You gotta get out so I can get out," You murmured, nudging the marine as carefully as possible.

Grumbling under his breath, he slid out of the booth, grabbing the table as he listed sideways.

"Christ, Frankie. Hold on, I gotcha." You grunted as he leaned against you, his weight shifting you off balance. Wrapping an arm around his waist in a motion similar to the one he'd made mere minutes ago, you shuffled towards the door. "Ok, Castle, you gotta work with me a little bit here."

As the two of you neared the exit, you heard an indignant squawk from the bar. "I OWE HOW MUCH??"

Chuckling softly, Frank's skull knocked against yours. "We'd better get outta here, sweetheart."

The two of you made it back to Frank's tiny apartment without incident, though the man was stumbling all the way. When you reached his front door, he snatched his keys from his pocket, tossing them at you without a word. 

Not expecting the projectile, the ring of keys hit you square in the chest, your chin following them as they crashed to the grimy carpet underneath your feet. Looking at Frank with narrowed eyes, you raised an eyebrow. “Was that really necessary?”

Frank chuckled quietly, his laugh as close to a giggle as it would probably ever get. His half-lidded eyes creased as he grinned at you. “Sorry,” The apology was undercut by the shit-eating expression on his face. 

“Drag your ass all the way home, breaking my back doing so–mind you,” You complained halfheartedly, your chest swelling with fondness as Frank’s raspy laughs continued. “And you just throw your shit at me.” 

Shaking your head, you let your smile betray you as he kissed your forehead. “You’re unbelievable, Castle.” 

“Thanks for puttin’ up with me.” His stubble scratched your skin as he spoke, his lips still resting against your temple. 

“Anytime, big guy.” Your eyes fell closed as his hand rubbed over your lower back.

After a minute, Frank spoke again. “Are ya gonna open the door, or am I gonna have to sleep in the hallway?” 

“Jesus Christ.” You groused, breaking out of his hold to squat down and grab his keys.

Just like that, Frank was back in stitches, shifting his weight to the door frame as his body shook with near silent laughter.

Shoving the key in the lock, you opened the door and shoved at him gently. "Get in there, goofball."

Shuffling inside, Frank beelined for the couch, collapsing onto it with his boots still on. Rolling your eyes, you followed him in, crouching by his feet to start unlacing his shoes.

Wriggling on his stomach, he craned his neck to look at you. “Whattya doin'?”

“Taking your shoes off, Frankie.” You explained without stopping your actions.

Grumbling, he flapped an arm at you clumsily. “Leave 'em.”

Huffing with exasperated affection, you ignored him. "You'll be more comfortable if I take them off, Frank."

You received a disgruntled noise in response, but his arm stopped moving. Face squashed against a throw pillow, his eyes were closed and his pink lips were parted--soft breaths slipping in and out of them every so often.

Finally pulling his second boot off, you sat back on your heels with a satisfied sigh. Standing as quietly as you could, you strode to the tidy kitchen.

Given that you were well-acquainted with Frank's place, you moved around the apartment with ease, finding the sparse first aid kit that he possessed and making a mental note to bring some supplies by soon. Sure, Frank would manage—he was the most capable man you'd ever met—but you wanted to make his life easier in any way you could.

Which is why you grabbed a few individually wrapped pain pills and placed them on the coffee table, along with a glass of water. Now for the difficult part.

"Frank, I know you're comfy like this but you have to turn to your side for me." You spoke softly, running a hand up his arm and pushing in the direction he needed to turn.

"Hngh..." Frank protested sleepily. "Why?"

Stifling a smile at the grumpy face he made, you continued to push. "C'mon, you big baby. On your side, so you don't choke and die overnight."

Huffing frustratedly, Frank flopped onto his side, glaring at you.

“Thank you. Do you need a blanket?” You asked, laughing indignantly when he flipped you off. “That was an actual question, asshole.”

Standing up, you took a step towards the worn armchair on the other side of the coffee table, nearly tumbling over when a force tugged on your wrist. Eyes closed again, Frank was poorly hiding a smile as he yanked your arm towards him with more strength than his inebriated self should have been capable of. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you feeling nice now?” You grumbled, balancing your weight over him precariously as you tried to escape his hold.

Tugging your arm again, Frank muttered a jumble of grouchy nonsense.

“Christ, Frank.” You snorted, rolling your eyes to the ceiling before sliding your palms underneath his shoulders to shift him over. Squishing onto the couch next to his head, you found yourself smiling as he wriggled towards you, settling his head into your lap with a relieved exhale. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a piece of work when you’re drunk?”

Your murmur was more for yourself than for him, but he responded nonetheless. “M’ria.”

It was far from the first time he’d spoken to you about his late wife, but hearing her name fall from his lips when he was in such a vulnerable state felt like a swift punch to the gut. Regaining your composure, you threaded your fingers into his hair. “Go to sleep, Frankie.”

As your nails softly scratched at his scalp, darkness crept into the corners of his vision, his eyes fluttering closed again.

The next few hours passed like fractions of a dream. A warm pliant surface beneath his cheek, a cool hand running through his hair. A whispered conversation and hushed groans. A loss of contact.

Somewhere in the haze of alcohol-induced fatigue, Curtis appeared, taking over your role as his babysitter. Curt was good at taking care of him...he was a lot less pretty than you were, though.

“Christ, I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that.” Curtis griped, insulted by comment Frank hadn't intended to share, shoving a bottle of some form of sports drink at him. “Drink this.”

Scowling, Frank took a long swig. As he was gulping down the sugary liquid, his eyes locked on a piece of fabric draped over the back of the couch. Setting the drink down, and nearly spilling it all over himself in the process, he grabbed clumsily for the coat, clutching it to his chest when his fingers finally landed around it. ”She forgot it.“

”What?“ Curtis, rubbing a knuckle between his brows, looked unamused.

”Her coat, Curt.“ Frank whispered, holding it out to show the other man. ”We gotta find her. She forgot it. It's winter.“

Shaking his head with a huff, Curtis dropped his head into his hands. ”I'm sure she'll be fine without it for a night. Go to sleep, Frank.“

Frank frowned, still focused on the piece of plastic in his hands.

Grappling his pocket, he eventually pulled out his phone and flipped it open, squinting at the bright screen as it powered on. Scrolling through the list of contacts, he found the one he wanted and dialed.

”Frank,“ Curtis sighed, but didn't stop him from calling you.

Receiving your voicemail, Frank groaned. “Sweetheart, you better not be frozen to death out there somewhere. You left your coat here. You gotta come and get it, ok? I don't want you to be cold.”

”Hang up and sleep, Castle.“ Called the medic from Frank's bedroom. When had he gone in there?

Ignoring his friend's explicit instructions, Frank sighed. “Please come back. I like having you here. You just...you take such good care of me, and I really don't deserve it, but you do it anyways, and--” The phone was snatched out of his hand.

“Frank says goodnight.” Curtis snapped into the phone before ending the call.

“Hey!” Frank glowered, fumbling for Curtis's hand to take the device back.

“Go to sleep, Frank. You can talk to her tomorrow. Trust me, you'll be grateful I took this away when you've sobered up. You don't need to be spilling your secrets to her over voicemail.“ Spreading a blanket over Frank, Curtis glared at him. ”Close your eyes, Marine. I am not playing games with you tonight.“

Rolling to his other side so that Curtis couldn't see him, he smirked at the other man's final snort. ”Real mature, Frank. I'm taking your bed. I'll be out to check on you every once in a while.“

As Curtis retreated into the other room, Frank waited impatiently, staring at the back of the couch until he heard a door close. Grinning in satisfaction, he withdrew his burner phone from his other pocket, opening it up and inputting your number.

“Sorry, Curt hung up the phone. I wasn't done talking to ya. I like talkin' to ya, it makes me feel...god, I'm bad at this. I dunno, sweetheart, you make me feel good...special. I haven't felt that way in a long damn time. But you just make it seem so easy. You make everything seem so easy...”

The intense rolling of his stomach is what ruptured his unconsciousness, igniting a spark of adrenaline powerful enough to carry him to the bathroom so he could collapse in front of the toilet.

God, he felt fucking awful. His head was pulsing with the beginnings of a migraine, his throat burned with acid as he emptied his stomach repeatedly. Moaning with regret, he slapped the lever to flush the toilet, sinking back against the cool porcelain of the bathtub behind him.

“Was wondering when that would happen. David owes me 20 bucks.” Curtis leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom with his arms crossed, smirking at Frank's evident misery.

“Glad I could help.” Frank muttered, digging the heel of his hand into one of his eyes in an attempt to offset some of the building pressure in his skull.

“You look like shit.” Curtis chuckled, passing him a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers.

“Fuck off.” Frank grumbled, rinsing out his mouth before throwing back a few pills.

“Well, clearly you're feeling more like yourself. Christ.” Curtis snorted.

“God, Curt, what happened last night?” Frank grimaced. 

“Besides you drinking enough to kill a racehorse? Not much. Unless you count me discovering your collection of burner phones as ‘interesting’.”

Curtis’s words were innocuous, but Frank felt a wave of dread crash over him at the implications. 

“What collection?“ He asked mournfully, hoping fiercely that Curt didn’t mean–

“The one you were using to call your girl.” Fuck. “Every time I turned around, there was a new phone in your hands. Can't say I didn't try to stop you from making an ass of yourself, you just managed to do it anyway.”

“Fuck!” Frank cursed. That was exactly what he was hoping to avoid. “Please tell me you're jokin'.”

“Unfortunately not, Frank.“ The other man laughed, but his brow pinched in sympathy. “You're gonna have some explaining to do, I expect.”

“Fuck me. What did I say?” He looked to his friend pleadingly, feeling like his impending doom was perched just over his shoulders.

“I didn't catch all of it, but the parts I heard were pretty damning.” Curtis rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Frank’s intense eyes.

Mustering the dwindling energy he had, Frank lurched to his feet, stumbling towards the door. Thankfully, Curtis caught him when his balance faltered after a few steps.

“Woah, shit, Frank! Where are you goin'?” Curtis chastised preemptively, letting Frank lean against him as he ambled to the foyer.

“To apologize, or delete that message. Whatever needs to be done.” Frank’s jaw was stiff, his voice gruff with fear and discomfort. Undraping his arm from Curt’s shoulders, Frank bent down to grab his boots, halting as the motion caused a spike of pain to shoot through his brain. Clenching his fingers around his thighs, he bit his tongue to keep from hurling again.

“Jesus, Frank. This isn't a goddamn military operation.” Curt scoffed, kicking Frank’s shoes closer to him with a grunt.

Frank huffed a bitter laugh. “You're right, that would be easier.” Squatting down, Frank shoved his boots on and laced them up.

“You need serious help, you know that?” Curtis sighed, only waiting a moment before slipping his own shoes on. “C'mon. I'll drive you.”

Tipping your chin up, you let the final dregs of your latte trickle across your tongue, silently begging for those few drops to contain the caffeine you'd need for the rest of the day. You were practically giddy with lack of sleep and the immense amount of sugar you'd dumped into the coffee to make it palatable–you weren't used to so many extra espresso shots.

After looking out for Frank at the bar, wrangling him on the journey home, leaving abruptly to accompany your distraught roommate and her accident-prone boyfriend to the hospital, and then staying with said roommate all night while her boyfriend got a cast put over his broken arm–you were understandably exhausted. And, if you were honest with yourself, a bit aggravated that you'd been ripped away from Frank when he was so unusually receptive to your affection.

It wasn't as if you could just call Curtis and ask to switch roles again, it was almost noon. Frank would probably be up and hungover by now–far grouchier than the cuddly lump he'd become last night when he passed out on your lap. No use to mourn that loss any further, you supposed. It wouldn't be that hard to make him agree to another bet, after all. 

Lounging on the couch, your eyes slipped shut for a moment, flying open in shock when you heard a knock at the door. Of course someone would show up right after you sat down. Inhaling deeply to keep from groaning, you dragged yourself off of the couch and to the door. Huh, speak of the devil.

Unlatching the door, you rested a hand on your hip as you took in the posture of the man before you. Frank looked awful, a perfect example of the saying “green around the gills”. He was slouched forward, barely meeting your gaze, and his complexion was so alarmingly pale that it was more translucent. Before you could ask what the hell he was doing on your doorstep, he spoke.

“I need to see your phone.” His tone was pained and especially gravelly, which made sense given how hungover he must be right now.

“Damn, Castle. Hello to you too.” You laughed, the humor of it not fully reaching your eyes as concern churned in your gut. Stepping out of the way, you allowed him to stride past you into the apartment. 

Looking over his shoulder at you sheepishly, he cringed. “Sorry, hi. Your phone?”

Well he’s clearly on a mission. You had to admit, you were curious what he was so riled up about. 

Your eyes narrowing, you gestured to where it sat on the counter, anchored by its designated cord. “It's charging. It died while I was running around last night and I just got home, so.” Frowning in confusion, you picked it up to show him. 

“Thank god.” Frank let his face fall into his palms, collapsing onto your couch. 

“Why do you need my phone, Frank?” Intrigue still piqued, you flicked a thumb across the screen to activate your phone.

Realizing he’d made a fatal error in his anguished haze, Frank swiveling in his seat, craning his neck just in time to see a massive grin break out across your face. “Shit wait–”

“Jesus Frank, are you ok? Why did you call me so many times?” You laughed, scrolling through the myriad of notifications you’d apparently missed from him. 

“Sweetheart I'm begging you–” Standing on his wobbly legs, he hurried to remove the device from your hands, but it was too late.

“You left multiple voicemails?” You looked at him with an almost pompous smile, clearly taking satisfaction in his downfall.

“Please don’t–” He made for your phone, but his reflexes were lacking. Spinning just out of his reach, you raised the phone above your head victoriously.

“Voicemail number one!” You announced proudly, pressing play on the recording. 

Frank’s voice sounded tinny through the small speakers, or maybe it was just being drowned out by the ringing in his ears. “You forgot your coat…”

“Aw, Frank, that's so sweet!” You spoke over the short message, your lip sticking out slightly as you looked at him with gratitude.

Stepping towards you with his palms displayed, he tried for a placating tone. “Yup. That was all, no need to listen to any more of–”

“Voicemail number 2!” You crowed, darting out of the kitchen as he grabbed wildly for the offending phone once more. 

“Sorry, Curt hung up the phone...”

“This ain't funny.” Frank growled, scurrying after you into the living room “Turn those off!” 

“You left them for me!” You giggled, holding the phone to your ear and squealing with delight at his first confession.

“You make everything seem so easy–”

“Aw, Frank–”

“It's so hard for me to focus when you're around–”

By the grace of some higher power, his drunk rambling cut off. Nearly keeling over, he leaned heavily against the back of your couch. “Thank Christ.”

“VOICEMAIL NUMBER 3!” You said gleefully, practically dancing with joy as Frank resumed chasing you.

“Goddamn it.” He muttered. He should have known he wasn’t that lucky.

“I can't stop thinkin' about ya–”

His words were coming back to him now, and it was crystal clear that he had very limited time to retrieve the phone before your relationship with him was irreparably damaged. Nearly bowling your coffee table over, he managed to snatch the hem of your sweatshirt, but you simply slipped out of it and resumed your lap of the space. 

“I can never stop thinkin about ya–”

You leapt onto the couch and over the arm, making for your bedroom. How on earth were you this agile after last night? He was pretty sure this would be the last thing he ever did. 

“I hope you made it home safe–”

You stumbled around your bed frame and Frank saw an opening. 

“You shoulda stayed here with me–”

His eyes narrowed, vision tunneling like a predator’s. Frank bounded forward and your eyes widened as you realized he had you cornered.

“I'll always keep you safe–”

Finally, he arrived within the distance he needed, snatching you by the waist and spinning you into him. Your chests were pressed together, quivering with the force of labored breaths, but before he could hit the power button– 

“Cause, I dunno, I just love ya, sweetheart. I'd never let anythin' happen to ya.”

His world blurred, his heart pounding so aggressively it felt like it was creeping out of his rib cage. It was done. It was over.

Panting, you looked up at him with a furrowed brow. His heart sank as he watched the realization crawl across your face. 

“You...you love me?” You asked meekly as Frank took a step away from you.

His entire body felt like it was on fire, he couldn’t decide whether he needed to scream or be sick. An apology roosted on his tongue, but his mouth was too dry for the words to come out.

“You love me.” You murmured, looking at the phone as if it would explain his words for you.

“I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinkin'–” He choked out, scrambling backwards sloppily so that he wouldn’t witness your pity.

“Frank–” You spoke softly, the sympathetic edge to your words cutting his composure like a blade.

“Christ, I'll just go, I'm sorry–” He whispered, his throat tightening with immense regret.

“Frank” Your fingers suddenly wrapped around his wrist, turning him back to face you. He inhaled deeply, bracing himself for the rejection and subsequent loss of connection that he’d stupidly caused. But it never came. 

Instead, your free hand cupped his neck, pulling his lips to meet yours. His knees wavered, nearly giving out as your soft lips met his. He was bombarded with surprise and affection and relief. Pulling back from him, you rubbed a finger over his nape and smiled softly.

“I love you too.”

“You–” He was too shocked to even ask a full question. His knees finally gave out and he fell against you. 

“Woah, careful there, tough guy.” You chuckled, nudging him backwards so that he crumbled onto your mattress instead of taking you both to the ground. 

Listing sideways onto your mattress, he let you prod at his limbs until he was fully seated. Bile was swiftly rising in his throat, but whether it was from the chase or the resulting emotions, he was unsure. Swallowing roughly, he grimaced. 

Biting your lip, you let go of his wrist to stroke your blissfully cool fingers along his cheek. “Let me get you some water, ok? I’ll be right back.”

Eyes falling closed, Frank took a handful of measured breaths, lips twitching with a small smile despite his current agony. You loved him too. He had a feeling that he should be skeptical, but he was experiencing too much to consider that at the moment. For now, he would just accept this outcome, however miraculous it might seem. 

Hearing your soft footsteps back into the room, he opened his eyes–immediately regretting it when his head convulsed with a renewed stab of pain. Moaning softly, he scrunched his eyes shut, bringing his thumbs up to his brows to knead them in the hope it would lessen the ache. 

“Head bothering you?” Your voice was impossibly soft as you knelt by his side, gently prying one of his hands away from his face and pressed a cold glass into it. 

“Yah. Sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to crash here.”

“Don’t you dare apologize. I already texted Curt and told him you’d be staying here for a bit.” Pulling back your sheets on the other side of the bed, you propped yourself up next to him. “Tired?”

Grumbling affirmatively, Frank tilted his head into your shoulder, rolling as far into you as he could stomach. “But we should probably–”

“We got all the time in the world, sweetheart.” You stroked his stubbled chin languidly, smirking as his expression relaxed beneath your touch. “Just sleep. After last night, we both need it.”

“God, I love you.” He murmured, throwing an arm over your hips and letting you nestle in close. 

You pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I love you too, Frank.” 

Frank made a mental reminder to buy Lieberman a beer the next time they went out. He’d never admit it to David, but he was beyond grateful that his uninhibited self had finally made a move. 

Feeling more content than he had in months, he let himself drift off to the sound of your soft breathing.

Thanks for reading!!

[hellsburners]

focus on me

summary: you tease frank while he’s on a call pairing: frank castle x male reader word count: 1.1k warnings: 18+ warning, domestic frank castle, sex while on call, blowjobs, top!frank obviously a/n: from a prompt by hailey !! (omg mike 2 fics in a day?)

masterlist | more frank castle

It was a Sunday morning spent watching football with Frank. He sat on the couch holding the remote while you were lying down with your legs resting on his lap. He was busy watching the game and you were completely unaware of what was going on. He would cheer, curse at the TV, shout, and almost throw the remote. 

“Fuck! What the fuck is up with this ref?” he said, throwing his hands around. 

He was so serious, his brows furrowed and his body so animated. You try to tease him through his sweatpants, the heel of your foot lightly grazing his crotch. You twist and turn on the couch to show that you were just shifting for a more comfortable position, but the truth is you were focused on getting him hard. 

“Babe,” he said. “What are you doing?”

“You’re so riled up with that game I figured you could ease up a bit,” You feel his crotch harden underneath your heel. You sit beside him, palming his growing erection. “It looks like it’s working though.”

He grunts, your middle finger drawing circles around his tip. You loosen the tie around his waist, putting your hand underneath the fabric to release his cock. It was thick, your fingers wrapping around the whole shaft. The tip was already red and leaking, your index finger spread the wetness all over to form some lubrication as you stroked it. 

“Shit—,” Frank groaned. 

You were about to take him in your mouth before the phone started to ring. Frank moved over to reach for the phone, his cock still bare. He answers the call–it was David Lieberman. 

“Hey, what’s up.”

 “There’s a problem with the site,” David said through the phone. You tried to back off—to let him finish before playing with his cock again; but the aching red tip was taunting you, practically begging for touch. 

As they were discussing some work stuff you started to stroke his cock again. Frank’s eyes darted towards you enlarged with his brows furrowed. What the hell are you doing? He mouthed. You opened your mouth, saliva dripping like a clear string on his cock. You stroked him again before you took him in your mouth. 

Frank grunted. “All good there boss?” David asked. 

“Yeah yeah all good,” he cleared his throat. His hand went to the back of your head, guiding you as you tasted him. 

Frank tried to stifle his groans, his grip on your head getting tighter. Your lips wrapped around his thick length, sucking in all the air as you bobbed up and down. His hips started to buck into your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. 

You pulled off from his cock with your lips making a popping sound. You gasped for air as David continued to ramble about money and costings. Frank pulled away from the phone to speak.

“Oh so now you want to pull away? Nuh-uh kid, go back at it,” he said, pulling your head back in.

Your eyes started to well with tears as he fucked into your throat, using your mouth like a toy for his pleasure. He continued to talk to David, almost as if you weren’t there. Your jaw started to sore, your lips dripping wet, and your back hunched over. Your crotch started to stir. 

“Attaboy.”

You started to use your hands to stroke him, even fondling his balls. Your warm hands and wet mouth drew the hardest grunts from Frank. You could hear David ask him if he was okay. 

“Yeah, just need a drink that’s all,” he said, clearing his throat. “Talk to the other guys, we’ll deal with this tomorrow.”

“Sure thing boss,” David said, dropping the call after.

You look up at him with teary eyes. He looks down at you with half-lidded eyes, patting your head like you just did a good job. He pulls you to his lap taking off your lower garments before straddling him. You align his tip with your hole, slowly sinking in. You held onto his broad shoulders for stabilization, his lips smirking as you wince in pain. 

“Fuck—it’s too big,” you cry out.

“You the one who started this,” he said sternly. “You gotta finish it.”

He holds your waist, pulling you down on his erection as it stretches you open. You cry out once more, your nails digging into his skin as you try to stay calm. You started to move your hips, moving it in circles, his cock filling you to the brim. It was an immense pleasure, the heat from your body rises tenfold. You ride him faster and with more vigor, your eyes closing in. 

He takes your chin to fix it in his gaze. 

“Open your eyes when I fuck you,” he said, lifting you so he can move his hips into you. He was quick and rough, your brows twitching trying not to close your lids. 

He lays you down on the couch so that he’s on top. His large arms above you as he fucked into your hole, your legs shaking and clenching in. You wrap your arms around his neck, moving your hips in sync with his. At that moment you felt your body join him, in complete synchronicity, both pleasure-bound. 

“Frank—” you moaned out. 

His lips let out hard grunts, his dark hair plastered across his forehead. You couldn’t stop admiring him. His stubbled face and his crooked nose. This man was all yours, to tease and to toy with, to fuck and to adore. 

“You gotta cum for me alright,” he groaned. “Then I’ll cum inside you, yeah?”

He started to buck his hips, his biceps flexing and his hands more veiny. The pleasure was too much, it was sending a thousand shocks of electricity all over your body. Your vision started to darken, Frank started to grunt louder, his thrusts more erratic. 

“Shit—shit,” Frank repeated as he hit his climax, spilling his cum inside you. 

You came all over your chest, some on Frank’s. He collapsed on top of you after, his large body weighing on you. You kissed him on the cheek, patting his head. 

“I think you missed the game,” you said, turning on to see that the game was done. 

“Fuck the game, we’re not done yet.”

“What?”

“Yeah, this is your fault for teasing me,” he said nonchalantly. “Now go on your hands and knees, I’m fucking you again.”

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

[privateanxieties]

to the shadows, we return

Summary: When Frank goes to the woods of Kentucky in search of Gunner Henderson, you come along for the ride. And when the man you're looking for shoots an arrow at him, well— it isn't Frank that gets hit. Feelings ensue in the aftermath.

Words: 4.4K

Pairing: Frank Castle x f!Reader (no y/n); hurt/comfort, fluff, light angst, blood and injury, near death experiences, whumptober 2023

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

You can tell the place is liable to be booby trapped all to hell before you've even gotten out of the van.

In a way, that's good. It means you're going to be of use and Frank didn't bring you here for nothing. In another, it's annoying, because you're going to be advancing at a snail's pace the whole way and the November sun is quick in its descent.

What you're here to provide is a one-woman navigation system, courtesy of your tactical training at Quantico. It's not that Frank didn't go through similar procedures; but he doesn't specialize in this type of operation, and he most definitely isn't used to extracting his way out of a predicament delicately. When it comes to these scenarios, he's the blunt object to your scalpel.

Gunner isn't someone you look forward to seeing again, but if you're to survive this whole ordeal, Frank needs to find answers. It sucks that this is what you're doing the first time you've left the bunker in weeks, but at this point you'll take a bear trap over listening to David Lieberman detailing any more Greek legends. Frank orders him to stay put— not that he'd have come with, anyway. Three's a crowd and all that. He seems content with his current level of involvement and you can't blame him for being reluctant to (very likely) get shot at. You're not very keen on it yourself, and knowing Gunner even as little as you do, it's something you worry about more than the traps themselves.

"Let's go before it gets any darker," you say, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. Frank nods, throwing another warning look at David.

The forest is barren this time of year, and an untrained eye might give into a false sense of security. Not a lot of places to hide traps, or at least not very well, a novice might think. Not the case. Gunner, from what you were able to intuit back in Kandahar, is the survivalist type. He's guaranteed to know his way around more than a few… creative snares.

It's not long into your trek inside the forest before you spot the black wire, but its placement is so obvious and exposed that it can't be more than an early-warning system for non-threats. No one looking for traps would trigger this one. It means you're getting close, but not quite close enough that you'd pose any real danger to his territory. Which means anything you encounter from now on will definitely try to take a finger with it. Though, if you're being honest— it's more like a limb or two.

Frank is quiet and cautious behind you, never closer than a three-step interval: the ideal distance for only one of you to get snared if you both happen upon a trap. It's a wonder he's letting you have the lead. If you've known Frank Castle to be anything, then that's a stubborn mule with absolutely no respect for safety. He'll take a bullet both out of stubbornness and sheer disregard for his life. He's old-fashioned like that. The fact that you're somewhat in charge in this particular instance means that he's laser-focused on getting to the bottom of Operation Cerberus. You know he wants the truth more than anything else. It's not just justice for what was done to his family, but for what he himself has done while on the covert task force.

Personally, your only goal is to avoid dying in the name of loose ends. It was somewhat of a miracle that you even survived the hit that made yours and Frank's paths cross again. Distantly, you think you can still feel the tingle in your knuckles from the right hook you served Carson Wolf. You appreciate Frank letting you have that after the fucker blew up your apartment.

Shaking off the chill of the biting November wind, you grit your teeth against the mounting stress of not having found any traps thus far. The place should be crawling with them, which means that if you don't see them, either you're not on the right path or Gunner's contraptions have been detected by others and swiftly removed. He could very well be dead out here and you'd have no idea. It's a grim thought; if that's the case, any information will have died with him.

"Over there," Frank calls in a hushed tone, stopping you in your tracks.

You follow his line of sight to a small shape in the middle distance, and even shielded by trees as it is, you can clearly distinguish the outline of a tiny cabin. Your first thought? You're uncomfortably close to it for no aggression to veer its head. You almost expect something to drop on both your heads from the clear skies, a cartoonish outcome if there ever was one. Before you can open your mouth and voice any of these concerns, however, Frank steps away from you.

"Hey—" you warn, tone sharp, but he only holds up a hand and motions for you to follow him.

You're forced to do so against your sharper instincts. Frank knows Gunner much better than you do. They were on the ground together in Afghanistan, while you did pre-mission recon under Cerberus. The only reason you ever talked to the guy was because you stuck your nose where it didn't belong. You looked for trouble and it found you, at the same time that you found unidentified crates of smuggled weapons, which was decidedly not how the military armed its personnel. Gunner was there. He'd already been onto something, and who knows what else he'd seen. Your piece of the puzzle might be nothing compared to his, and you desperately need it if you want your life back.

Frank, you've gathered, doesn't care much for his own. He moves through the woods carefully, though with an air of nonchalance that worries given the territory. Or maybe it's trust, you figure, because it doesn't take long for him to call out Gunner's name.

"Brother, I just wanna talk!"

The backpack is deposited on a pile of dry leaves, and you watch curiously as Frank also removes his weapon, placing it atop the bag. He motions for you to do the same, and the look you throw him is one of vehement defiance.

"No."

"He needs to see we don't want to hurt him," Frank argues.

"Then I'll wait over here," you return, a grim smile scrunching up your features.

It's not that you want to hurt Gunner, but you are not opposed to it whatsoever if that's the direction this will go.

"He'll think it's an ambush. C'mon, we—" he pauses, looking away and back at you with his mouth turned down. "We came this far. We need to talk to him. Leave the goddamn gun. He's got the advantage anyway," he pleads, though you sense an amount of command in that tone.

He's right that you're out here, exposed, while Gunner could shoot you both through the rickety door or one of the windows of the cabin. You're not comfortable being unarmed, though— you haven't been in years. Although, you suppose, some things are too great to get away from with just the use of a pistol. It sure as shit didn't help when you almost got blown all the way to hell four months ago. A deep sigh from Frank rattles your hesitation. The question in his eyes is tinged with desperation, and for a brief moment, he looks younger than you know he feels. He's not accustomed to asking people for anything, and the slightest doubt on the part of those he asks for help is enough to make him regret ever thinking of it in the first place.

You don't want him to doubt you. You also don't want to make him think you don't trust him, because you do. You woudn't have gotten this far with him and David if you didn't. Sure, you didn't seek them out; they found you and in the process saved your life. Back in the war, your unit relied on you before anyone else. The purpose of reconnaissance is simple: gather intel. Make sure that when you go in, you have a way out. You liked that job and you liked feeling unquestionably needed.

Despite recent revelations, the sting of what happened before you were abruptly sent home is still fresh somehow. It lingers on the surface of your days, waking or slumbering. For almost three years, you lived with the belief that you sent your unit into a death trap, and it took nearly dying for the record to be set straight. What happened in Kandahar, that last mission that killed more than half of the Cerberus unit— it wasn't on you. It wasn't on you, and yet guilt isn't easy to do away with.

It's the same kind of guilt you're witnessing in Frank right now, with his brows pulled so tight that a deep ridge has formed between them. He's restless and full of regret, and that's what makes your decision barrel into you. You simply don't want to add the fact of your company to that list for him. If you're going to be here, you might as well be the support he needs.

Nodding somewhat unconvincingly — because you're still dreading this — you copy his actions and discard your backpack and weapon next to his own, at once feeling more uneasy than you have in a long time. The gratitude you can sense in his relaxing posture is a little too much to bear, so you settle for diffusing the tension with a warning.

"If he shoots you, I will leave your ass here."

Frank bites back a reply you can guess almost word for word, but his face tells the story his lips won't: yeah, sure you will. It's comforting to know that he at least trusts you not to abandon him, at the same time that the thought feels heavy considering your history. You owe him in more than one regard, but that's not truly why you wouldn't leave him, even to save yourself. Frank is pretty much the only family you've got left. You didn't have many people in your life to begin with, and he's lost the most important ones to rogue government dealings. The only way you'll be removed from his side is if either he is dead or you are. It's funny, the way you grow attached to someone while living in a shithole bunker and hiding from men who want to kill you.

The sun inches lower as you approach the cabin, gaze firmly set on the windows. It's instinctive to watch them, though you aren't neglecting your surroundings either. Frank calls out towards the house again, taking cautious steps to close the distance. You follow in a mirror of your previous formation, no more than three steps behind him.

The place appears desolate, but the trail of smoke from a minuscule chimney is all the sign of life you need to confirm someone else's recent presence. You're now less than ten feet away from the door, and all of a sudden your muscles go stiff. You scan the trees around you for anything you might have missed, but they are free of threats and as barren as the furnishings you can glimpse inside the cabin when you turn to look over Frank's shoulder. The wet crunch of the leaves beneath your boots is dampened by Frank calling out again.

"C'mon Gunner, it's Frank!"

Once close enough, he takes a peek inside one of the smaller windows to the right, and you take your place at his side so that you both line the wall in the least vulnerable positions. Frank, however, is taking more chances than you think he ought to by looking so unabashedly through the windows on the left side.

"Gunner!"

"Hey—" you whisper, realizing immediately how stupid that is. It's not like you haven't announced your presence plenty. "Frank, get away from the goddamn windows."

"He's a good man. He's not going to shoot me. Right, Gunner?" he says in the same tone and volume, making you turn away so you can roll your eyes in privacy, knowing Frank has a bit of a sore spot for that. It's all you have time to do, anyway, because once you've widened your field of vision, you spot a shape that wasn't there just a minute ago.

It's funny how the body can respond to stimuli before the brain has even processed them, and it's even funnier how it chooses to do things without any input whatsoever from logic or reason. Self-preservation has no business here, is what your body seems to have decided is the working philosophy for today.

Consequently, you're pushing Frank down and out of the way before you even realize you've moved. The pain, for its part, is not without delay either. Your scream echoes through the woods and you register it as if it's not your own, but some distant sound — and then you're looking down at your shoulder and realizing exactly what hit you. It makes sense that it's a carbon arrow, you think, because anything else would've been snapped in two by the force of the compound bow now aimed at you both.

You cry out when Frank's arm winds around you and hauls you to your feet, dragging you behind the nearest wall and out of the line of fire, but not before another arrow embeds itself in the window frame next to his head. He sets you down with more care this time, and though you're a bit out of it, you don't miss the sheer emotion in his face. It goes hand in hand with the lightning-sharp pain filtering through your veins and making reason depart swiftly. It's why your fingers begin to grasp at the arrow's shaft, ready and willing to expel it from your body without hesitation. They're only stopped by Frank's own hand, gently but firmly guiding yours back down to rest on your stomach.

"Gunner, goddamn it—" Frank shouts, so close to you that you can feel the vibration of his rough tone. "You proud of yourself, huh? You just shot an unarmed woman!"

This time, the eye roll is in full view and you want him to see it.

And why is it that I'm unarmed, Frank?

You don't say that, though you want to. There's something in Frank's eyes that tells you his mental state right now is veering towards self-blame, and he's not the one responsible for this outcome. The guns, however— those are his fault.

You're both defenseless.

And just like that, you're suddenly scared. It doesn't creep up on you like usual, where you wait and wait until the signs are clear that the future will hold unpleasant things. This fear is cold and dense like the woods around you. The woods you might die in. A whimper flows past your lips as your eyes go wide.

Frank takes notice in an instant.

"Shh, hey— Look at me, right at me."

His palm has cupped the side of your face, warming it up against the surging chill of the forest and giving you something to fixate on to stave off the ensuing panic. It's too bad you close your eyes so you can fully focus on the texture of his skin, because the jolt that comes in response is none too gentle. Frank is shaking you awake.

"Hey! Don't you do that. You hear? Don't close your eyes. Keep 'em on me. Just focus on me, sweetheart."

You try for reassurance through touch, but this is a mistake, you soon realize. When your hand comes up to brush along Frank's cheek, it's with distant horror that you notice it's your right hand. You are moving your right hand, because that is the only one that you can move without blinding pain.

Which means the arrow has found a home in your left shoulder. Your left shoulder, not far above your heart.

"Frank—"

He can see you looking. He can probably see how terrified you've become.

And he, in turn, becomes terrifying.

The next time he calls out Gunner's name, you don't hear Frank Castle. You only witness his shadow being left behind as the Punisher comes forward. And then you get swallowed by your own shadows.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

It's a silly little dream— of that, you're certain. But it doesn't mean you can't enjoy the brush of the soft blanket under you or the gentle carding of fingers through your hair.

The warmth of the air borders on unpleasant, and you might be sweating a little more than you'd want in this scenario, but overall you wouldn't trade it for the world, being here with him. Calm. Unhurried. Ignorant of all discomfort, even as your arm has gone numb from lying on your side, gazing at the fire. Well, maybe occasionally at the fire. Mostly, you're just looking at him.

Tracing the contours of his face with your eyes and wishing your fingers could follow, you take everything in as a light euphoria settles over you. His skin is lit up by the wash of warmth from the fire, each imperfection softened— or perhaps that's your eyes' doing, wistfully hooded and completely unashamed in their observation. It feels like gazing upon him for the first and last time, like you're only truly seeing him now that he might disappear. There's a weight in your chest, neither pleasant nor concerning.

Then, his lips are on your cheek and reality slips away. You forget that this is just a dream the moment his mouth trails over your jaw and down the column of your neck, and your eyes fall blissfully closed. He's touching you everywhere, the reassuring press of his body to yours further melting every muscle and easing every current of something like pain travelling through your chest and down your arm. Absent any willpower, you lose grasp of words that aren't his name and thoughts not curved around this moment. You're as relaxed as you can be.

That's when the screaming begins.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Curtis should really make some kind of declaration soon, or he's going to lose his goddamn mind.

He hasn't said anything the entire time he's been working and— Frank trusts him. He trusts Curt with his life. But it isn't his life on the line right now, and worst of all, it should've been. It should've been him taking that arrow to the chest and bearing it only an inch away from his heart. It should've been him, delirious with sepsis and burning from a killer fever. It always should've been just him in those woods. Only him.

It's his fault. It always is. People always die at his side or because of shit he's done. He always drags them to hell with him, and they never make the journey back together. Only he ever emerges from that blackened pit, crawling out on a bruised soul to fight another day, and the carnage left behind is made up of enemies and loved ones alike.

He's a fucking plague. He's—

"Frank. I need you to focus, brother."

His eyes are wide and gaze distant; he notices that immediately upon Curt's warning, but it's hard to bring his expression under control. It's equally hard to keep his eyes focused, because they will fix themselves upon the only thing in the room that matters and his thoughts will spiral soon thereafter.

Frank's never seen anyone look so frail. He's had comrades die out in the field. He's held onto Curt while the corpsman was in the worst pain of his life — his fucking fault, again — and he's witnessed the worst crimes of humanity against one another. He's perpetrated some of those crimes. Yet everything always happened in the blink of an eye. Everyone he's ever lost, he's lost quickly. In each of the worst moments he's ever lived through, there was none of this waiting, and the hands of the clock didn't spit and curse at him for daring to have hope.

She's been looking worse by the hour. Ever since Curt got here, the medic has had to restrain him from doing something stupid like calling an ambulance. It's a wonder Lieberman managed to make the tough decision and drive them all back here, instead of going to a hospital like Frank demanded. Threatened. Gently asked with his finger on the trigger.

But David was right— it would've been over for them all if they went to an ER. The people that want to kill them would encounter no problems taking out one of their targets while she's unconscious and defenseless in a hospital bed. Frank would be arrested, if not shot on sight. And David would soon follow after them both. So, they're here.

And Frank is still losing his mind as time drags forward and the blood keeps dripping. He keeps an eye on the line between her arm and Lieberman's, delivering the life-saving substance at a pace controlled by Curtis. David's a universal donor, a fact that almost makes Frank believe in some higher power. With odds this stacked against him, it's a miracle he gets this one kindness.

Don't let her die.

The thought startles him briefly, since he meant not to ask. The words manifested from seemingly nowhere, a little echo of them bouncing around his mind. Frank doesn't have any illusions of a higher power granting him leniency, even if one exited. If anything, his mere involvement here, the fact that he cares— might be enough to entice whoever's out there to just deal him another blow, no matter who gets swallowed up in the process.

Either God doesn't exist, or he does and is an asshole. No third way around it, in Frank's view.

An hour passes, then another. Lieberman is recovering on the cot at the edge of the bunker, now with almost a fifth less blood running through his veins. Frank says nothing about how if it was necessary, it could've been more than a fifth. Substantially more— all of it, even. He's not sure Curt would approve of this perspective… murdering a man with a family just so he doesn't lose his again. He'd do it. He would. He'd do anything, he decides on a quiet exhale.

When exactly his heart made the decision to latch on this tightly — both hands, it recalls — he isn't sure and he doesn't care. What's done is done, and boy was it done without his fucking approval. It terrifies more than comforts him, the fact that he is still able to feel like this after everything he's been through. It also frustrates him, despite his best efforts, because he can't seem to let it go. Part of him knows it's because he can't escape it or her, since they're in this together. There's nowhere for him to run, no place to crawl to and wait out these feelings; they're both stuck on the other side of lives they used to have, leaning on each other for support they never ever asked for.

And why in the goddamn hell did she—

A groan. Quiet, almost inaudible to anyone whose ears aren't listening for any sign of pain. His heart jumps, and he's on his feet in less than a second. On the other side of the room, Curt startles.

"Frank—"

He blinks down at her form, eyes flitting over the bandages and blood and fragile skin.

"Frank, come on—"

"Did you give her something?" he grunts, almost surprised at the sound of his own voice. It's rougher than even he is used to.

"What?" Curt asks, taking a few steps closer.

"For the pain. Did you give her anything for it?"

Curt's hesitation is all he needs to see red.

"Her body's working through a lot right now. Painkillers would get swallowed up by everything else running through her system, and we don't have morphine—"

Frank isn't too proud of the look he throws his friend.

"You should've told me. I would've gone—"

"I need you to calm down," Curtis tries, keeping calm for the both of them. Frank, however, isn't having it. He steps into the corpsman's space, jaw clenched and nostrils flaring. His voice bellows.

"And what does she need? Huh, Curt? If she needs drugs, you tell me. If she needs surgery, you tell me. If I have to take her to a real goddamn doctor, I'll do that! So what is it? What do I gotta do?!"

Frank's rage only ever takes on two forms: the destructive, when he's capable of leveling an entire enemy squadron by himself, and the stifling, when he feels as helpless as humanly possible and will try anything he can to take back control.

Curtis, for his part, doesn't give in to Frank's rage. He holds himself in that same dignified way, eyes too knowing and too kind for the words that were just thrown at him. He's seen Frank in worse states, but back then there was a war raging all around them. This bunker, though dark and decrepit and reeking of blood, is not a war zone; but Curt knows it makes little difference in his friend's mind. He understands. For hours now, Frank has been too close to reliving his worst fear, and his worst fear has always been losing those he loves. A sigh blows past Curt's lips, and then he takes a deep breath.

"Listen—"

"…s'ole."

Both their heads turn to look at the source of the faint sound, though only one of the men crosses the room in two seconds flat, argument completely forgotten. Frank leans over the makeshift bed, shoulders tense as she displays early signs of consciousness. It's like he's restless and rigid at the same time, his body a taut wire about to snap. Curt sighs again. Watching Frank like this isn't easy, but it's also not the worst thing in the world. If only it would get him to realize what everyone else is seeing, but Curt knows his friend is too stubborn for that.

"What is it?" Frank whispers, lightly caressing her cheek with a trembling finger.

Curt sees her lips move, but no sound comes out.

"C'mon sweetheart, what's wrong?"

It's almost sweet, in a way. If her state weren't so delicate, it would be almost endearing — the small touches, his protective stance over her form. The way Frank leans closer, making sure she doesn't have to strain in order to get her message across.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"… Asshole."

It's only quiet for a moment.

And then David laughs until Curtis is sure he hears something pop in the man's neck.

.

.

A/N: This was supposed to be a short and sweet oneshot. It was, of course, never going to be that. I felt bad abandoning it, though, so here you go. Not my best work, but I do love this idea. Let me know if you'd like an update from her perspective regarding what happens after! Thank you for reading and please know that I always love to read your comments.

[petertingle-yipyip]

WORLD CLASS SINNER - FRANK CASTLE

finale - sinner

tags: n/a // ten // epilogue // masterlist

Pairing: frank x reader, billy x reader

Word Count: 10,008

Summary: It all comes down to one final night, where it all began. One who thinks he’s a god versus the one who once scared the Devil and the Punisher. The Devil wasn’t wrong after all to fear the evil she delivers.

David helped you get Frank into Dinah’s car. You were so out of it by then that you didn’t even know when the gun at the back of your head disappeared or what Dinah told her team for them to leave you all alone.

You sat with him in the backseat, letting yourself absorb his pain to keep him calm and give him a better chance. The drive seemed to go by in a blur given the fact that your body was still reeling with the effects the adrenaline shot. You three managed to get Frank into Dinah’s parents’ apartment and her dad helped to take care of Frank.

Your head was still pounding even though the gash had long since stopped bleeding. Your chest ached and your hand was clutching that familiarly cracked rib while your heart pounded viciously. Every breath felt ragged and your balance was uneven. Before you could say anything or catch yourself, you collapsed to the floor.

You were unconscious for hours. You woke up with your mask and suit off. Your torso was wrapped tightly and your head was carefully bandaged. You sat up and felt the uncomfortable shift of your ribs, though the pain was significantly less. You looked around and saw your bloodied mask and Bites on the nightstand. Your suit was tossed over a nearby chair and you were wearing the hoodie and sweats you had been wearing before the meeting with Billy.

Billy…

You rubbed a hand across your eyes and when you pulled it back, you noticed there were thin red lines around your wrist. Looking at it fully, you noticed the other wrist had the same marks. From the zip ties, you figured.

Dinah came in soon after and was the first to notice you were awake. She gave a tight smile and placed a folded outfit at the edge of the bed before she turned to Frank.

“Hey, Princess.” Frank said softy, reaching over to take your hand.

“Hey.” You replied and your voice was raspier than you anticipated. “It done?”

“Not yet.” Dinah answered with a sigh. “You should take Lieberman’s little gift and disappear, fast.”

“Gift?” Your brows furrowed before an envelope landed beside you on the bed. You looked at the source and David gave you a small nod. You opened it carefully and saw it was packed with hundred dollar bills while Dinah kept talking.

“I’d say the same goes for you, Y/L/N, but given the fact that no one there knows it was you, your secret’s safe for now.”

“My secret…” You repeated. “Funny you say that when my mask is across the room.”

“The only people that have seen your face are the people in this room. And my parents but they don’t know your name.”

“If I ever see you again after you walk out of this door, then all bets are off.” Dinah warned as Frank stood to leave. “I will take you in or I will shoot you down.”

“Wait.” You threw the covers back and jumped to your feet. As soon as you landed, your knees buckled and you nearly collapsed. Pushing through it, you chased after Frank and ignored the voices calling you back. “You can’t leave me.”

“You’re gonna be alright.” He said gently. “You don’t need me around, Y/N/N.”

“I don’t wanna be alone again.” Your eyes burned with the threatening tears. “I can’t take being alone again.”

“You’re not alone, okay? Call your friends, yeah? I’ll see you around.”

“Frank...”

“I know.” He practically whispered. “But you gotta trust me. Just… Please, trust me. I'm gonna take care of it.”

“I don’t need you to protect me from this.” You countered firmly.

“Alright.” He scoffed. “Look at yourself, Y/N. That rib’s been busted almost as long as I’ve known you. Your head gets split open once a month. You’re probably living with a concussion, God knows what else. You keep going like this, this thing is gonna crush you.”

“I don’t care. I need to see this to the end.”

“It’s not your fight, Princess. You steer clear of this and I know that even if he kills me, he’ll leave you alone.”

“I can fight for myself. And you wanna talk about what’s happened to me, you’re no better off.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugged.  “You’re one of the few things left worth fighting for, alright? So that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“And I’m not helpless. I can go through this and not die.”

“Yeah? I bet Red thought the same thing and look where he ended up.”

Without hesitation, you brought your hand up and slapped him across the face. You hadn’t even realized you had done it until the sound seemed to echo throughout the room. Your eyes went wide in mild shock at your own action, but at the same time, it didn’t surprise you to react that way.

No one got to talk about Matt and his death, especially someone who wasn’t there.

He pushed past you after that, upset that you had hit him but also relieved that you were passed at him. Using your powers for a brief moment, you understood he wanted you to be mad at him so you’d stay away. So you’d leave him to die if it came to it.

He didn’t seem to realize just how stubborn you could be.

You went back into the bedroom and collected your gear. You tucked it under your sweatshirt and thanked Dinah for her help again. You asked her to thank her dad and wished David best of luck with his family before you left. Dinah was saying something about her seeing it through and that you or Frank didn’t have a monopoly on payback. Truthfully, you let it go in one ear and out the other.

Billy Russo was going to pay. You spared him too many times. In turn, he spared you but the tit-for-tat system was getting you nothing. Nothing but physical pain and injury and for what? For him to win?

You got into your apartment and once again found Karen inside, the chest that hid Daredevil open at her feet. She apologized and said she tried to call. Her explanation shifted to questions when she saw the bandages on your forehead while you pulled your bloodied alias from under your hoodie. You simply threw the pile into the closet and kept moving past her, towards your bedroom. You paused at the small box you had kicked out of your way before so you picked it up and brought it with you.

You sat on the edge of your bed and unfolded the small piece of paper that was tucked under the edge of the lid.

-sorry about everything, billy-

You made a face to yourself before tossing the paper and opening the box.

It wasn’t until you heard your front door close did you pull your phone. You called the familiar number, knowing it’d be the last time. It had to be.

“And here I was thinking you didn’t want anything to do with me. To what do I owe the pleasure?” He said when he answered and to your surprise, there was no malice in his words.

“Can’t I just call to check in?” You answered.

“I didn’t think you’d want to, given the fact that you, yknow, shot me.”

“And you slammed my head into a pole till I went unconscious so I’d say it balances out.”

“Why are you calling, Y/N?”

“Why’d you answer, Billy?”

“General curiosity.” He said simply. “Your turn.”

“The watch.” You spun it in your hand and your fingers felt a difference in texture. Glancing down, you almost laughed. “Was it one of yours?”

“No, picked it out just for you.”

“So what’s with the BR on the inside of the strap?”

He chuckled as if he was caught and the mundaneness of the conversation felt so out of place.

“I saw that ring your Matt got you, the one with his name in it. Thought if we could smooth things over, you’d have something with mine but…”

“At least it’ll get a good chunk from the pawn shop.” You shrugged.

“Ouch. I know it doesn’t match your little costume, which I gotta say, makes you look great.”

“C’mon, Billy. You’re gonna tell me you don’t understand that all this is on you? Your choices led us here.”

“You made a choice too. But you don’t see me throwing that back at you.”

“Difference is I made a good one. You’ve done yourself no favors.”

“I still don’t get what’s so special about Frank.”

“That man was damn near dead and he was worried about me. He’s always taken my side and looked out for me. You say that you’d never hurt me but I know he wouldn’t. He’s the closest to family that I have in New York. You don’t get to take that from me.”

“As much as I love our little chats, Beautiful, I’ve got things to take care of.”

“If you manage to get through Frank and it comes down to you and me, you’re dead.” You warned.

“Can’t wait.”

The line went dead and you dropped the phone in your lap. You rubbed your aching eyes and took a few deep breaths, as deep as the tight bandages would allow.

You were running through scenarios as to what Billy would be up to. Hiding at Anvil was an option, but unlikely. You figured Homeland would’ve raided the place by now, or at the very least be in the process of raiding. Same could be said about his place. His bridge with you and Dinah was burned so he wouldn’t be on his way to either place.

All that really could leave would be Curtis.

Curtis.

You jumped up quickly and hurried to change. You dressed in a hurry before practically running to the closet. You shoved a gun into the waistband of your pants and snatched your bag before you left. You were nearly

sprinting to your car to get to Curtis’ place.

You thought to call Frank but how could you? You doubted he had any sort of burner, not one you had the number of at least. Besides, he was more than willing to do it without you. Dinah wouldn’t be the help you needed. So you were on your own.

You banged on the door and waited for an answer, though you were met with silence. You banged on it again, harder than before, and still got no response. You muttered to yourself about Curtis sleeping like the dead before you knelt and reached under your shirt for one of the metal fasteners on the bandages. You bent it back and forth until it snapped into two pieces and you used the pieces to pick the lock.

You drew your gun and carefully opened the door, seeing a phone slide across the floor. You moved in slowly and saw Billy on the other end of the room, ducked below the windowsill. Your eyes scanned the room and it was easy to see the bullet holes. You nodded towards the window in question and Billy gave you a small nod before he lifted the phone to his ear.

You saw Curtis peak around from the floor of the kitchen and your focus immediately changed. You hurried over and dropped the gun at your side before examining the wound. You gently pulled the collar of his shirt aside to see the bloodied injury. You clicked your tongue, knowing there wasn’t much you could do at the moment, and applied pressure.

“Finish this where it all started.” You heard Billy say.

You gave no outward reaction but you knew what he meant.

Midnight at the carousel.

He left after that but you stayed at Curtis’ for a while longer. You two talked about what Billy was doing there while you waited for the ambulance. You were glad it was only the one gunshot and the shot itself wasn’t lethal. Whatever Billy’s plan there was, it wasn’t about killing Curtis, and you were thankful for that.

You went back home once the ambulance took him away. You had washed your hands at his place, but they still felt wet. Dripping with the blood of everyone you’d met. Everyone you’d hurt. Everyone you’d killed.

You had to shake the thought as you got to your apartment. You knew what you had to do, only it wasn’t a job for Y/N. It was set up for Exodus to finish.

Kill Billy Russo. Save Frank, save yourself.

It seemed so simple when you thought of it that way and maybe it was that easy. You were in the closet under the stairs gathering your equipment in a duffel bag. A clean suit, your new vest, Bites, gloves, mask with intact lenses, staffs, and a fully loaded belt. You fit the retractable blade to your wrist and tossed two handguns on your couch before going to your bedroom to change.

Dark fitted pants, dark red fitted long sleeve, your usual vigilante boots. You fit your FBI issued vest over it for the time being and threw a loose zip up over it. You sent a quick text to Dex before you threw your phone to your bed.

central park carousel 1230

Your phone landed beside the watch and you found yourself wanting to break it, stomp your heel on it and hear the glass break. Pull the straps apart and drive a knife through the rest. But you didn’t. You’d bury it with him. Dead, just like your feelings for him.

You pulled your hair back and looked at the long gash on your forehead, opposite the side of your mask scars. It buried itself in your hairline and was nearly healed, the slightest discoloration in your skin. You blew out a sigh and stared at your face as a whole.

She looked like you, close enough at least. Half alive compared to what you looked like when you first came to town. Twice as weak. More vulnerable than you ever intended, more willing to let people in. For that, you blamed Matt. It was easier to decide it was his fault

but you still looked for him in any other man.

But it seemed like every person you let in was another scar, another injury, more blood loss. You were always the loser, but as you stared into your ghosted eyes, you decided you’d get through the fight.

And if it killed you, then at least you tried. You had lived a life worth more than anything you would’ve had in the Red Room.

Despite all the sentiment, you couldn’t afford the vulnerability. The weakness. So you watched as the light Frank saw not too long ago fade from your eyes, locking away the weakness behind Exodus’ strength. What filled the light’s absence was almost as hollow, almost as empty. It was the look of a killer, of someone who has courted death.

It was the look of someone who truly was half alive. Someone that once brought out fear in the Devil of Hell’s kitchen, that decimated the Russians, uprooted Fisk’s empire, crushed the Yakuza. A trained killer, raised on the bitter taste of blood and changing the history of man. Someone who you tried to get away from but what’s good was that?

She was your shadow, and to be rid of that would be to lose a piece of yourself.

So be it.

You went back into your living room and placed your guns at your back, tucked into your belt. You stopped in at the closet one more time to add a knife inside your boot before you grabbed your bag. You slung it over your shoulder and bounded down the stairs to your car, throwing the bag into your backseat.

You drove over to the park, leaving your car a block away. You were going to survey the area and see if you could get a better vantage point, somewhere you could see it all but Billy wouldn’t see you. Before you left your car, you grabbed your Bites and shoved them in your jacket pockets.

You were wandering the emptying area, offering polite smiles to the kids who made eye contact with you while they laughed wildly. Their parents apologized but you assured them it was fine as you kept going. You had circled the small novelty feature and found nothing interesting until there was a small clatter inside the snack bar. You thought nothing of it at first but you moved closer to make sure.

Their voices were muffled, deeper into the room than you initially anticipated. You fitted your Bites into place and tugged your sleeve down to cover as you snuck into the room. You didn't need your mask to see that it was Billy, especially when their fear began to burn your tongue.

Your hand flexed and your Bite activated as you gave yourself a clear shot.

“Let them go, Bill.” You said flatly and you noticed your accent tinting your words. The girl yelped from the other room and Billy turned to face you calmly. You lifted your hand and aimed your weapon with the same sense of control. “They don’t have anything to do with this.”

“You wanna take their place?” His brows raised.

“Sure.” You shrugged. “If it’s to get to Frank, he’s gonna care more about me anyway.”

He tilted his head in acknowledgement before gesturing for the kids to leave. They squeezed past him and practically ran out, stammering a rushed ‘thank you’ as they passed, but you didn’t take your eyes off Billy.

“No suit this time?” He asked, leaning against the wall behind him. He crossed his arms and you noticed his gun was still in play, poking out from between his forearm and bicep. “But the accent’s kinda hot. Where’s that been this whole time?”

“Funny.” You rolled your eyes.

“Lighten up.” He tried with a smile but your expression didn’t change. “Jesus, Y/N, will you put that down?”

“No.”

“Alright, well then.” He sighed and moved quickly.

He fired his gun, hardly even moving it. The bullet hit the inside of your raised wrist and you cried out, arm falling down almost immediately. You examined the joint and were thankful it didn’t get through the Bite. However, your relief was short lived when the sharp electricity shot through your arm. Looking closer, the bullet cracked your weapon and now it was shorting out, releasing unregulated bursts.

You were reaching to take the device off when Billy’s touch stole your attention. Your head snapped up and as soon as your eyes met, he backhanded you with his pistol and you fell to the floor.

The sudden lights and movement pulled you back. Your eyes fluttered open and your arm still twitched from the electricity. Your arms were above your head, bound to the pole of the carousel horse that you could feel along the length of your spine.

You blinked through the lights and pulled on your restraints, which only sent another shock through your arm and you felt the zipties dig deeper into the tender skin. Why he didn’t take the Bites off, you didn’t know. Maybe the faulty one shocked him when he touched it. You shifted your body and felt both guns still against your back and shaking your foot, you felt the knife handle in your boot. Yet your jacket was gone.

You figured he left them because if you were restrained, it didn’t matter what weapons you had on your person.

“Billy?” You tried but opening your mouth allowed for a new pain to begin thumping at your jaw.

You rolled your eyes to yourself when you realized it was from when he hit you. You were going to get him back for that.

You had a feeling you were alone, or at least that he wanted to feel that way. As you spun on the stupid horse, you scanned the area. You knew he had to be somewhere. You felt the pride bouncing off the mirrors around you but the source wasn’t visible.

“Billy!” You yelled and pulled the restraints again, this time breaking skin on one side. “Goddammit…”

Your implant pinged in your head so you adjusted your head to bump your shoulder until it answered.

“The hell you doing here, Princess?” Frank asked tightly. Anger was in his voice but it didn’t feel directed at you, not completely at least. The concern between the syllables was.

“Not much at the moment.” You answered, shifting in the horse to sit sideways and get a better view of the restraints. You winced loudly as another shock ran up your arm and it made you wonder how much more juice was in that damn thing. “Could use some help.”

“Didn’t I tell you to stay out of it?” He argued instead and you had to roll your eyes.

“Sorry, I missed the part where I was supposed to listen to you.” You answered sarcastically. “Besides, it’s not like I planned to be stuck to a stupid horse.”

“You think you’ll be alright for a few minutes till I can get to you?”

“Sure.” You said before pulling on your wrists to get them further down the pole. “If my arm doesn’t lock up.. Dying would be one hell of an adventure, don’t you think?”

“What?”

“Nothing, nevermind.”

“You see him?”

“No.”

“Alright. I’m coming.”

You nudged your shoulder to shut it off and turned your focus back to your restraints. You tried twisting your wrists in opposite directions but it just dug the plastic deeper until the other side broke skin. Your next thought was the knife in your boot, but you’d fall off the horse trying to get it out. Next thought was the knife at your wrist. You were adjusting your hands to ensure the blade didn’t knick you when the explosions sounded.

Three loud, bright collisions that made you jump and nearly fall off the stupid animal. You craned your neck to look but that ridiculous spin put you on the other side while the gunfire sounded.

You slammed your foot against the closet horse in annoyance and Billy came into your field of vision, keeping low to likely keep visual on Frank.

“C’mon, Billy.” You commented, taking a deep breath and readjusting to sit back up on the horse. “Here I was thinking you were gonna play fair.”

“Shut up.” He sneered, still not looking at you.

“I’m just saying.” You shrugged, looking up at your hands again. You tried to flick the blade out but the tight constricts kept you from being able to fully move it. You groaned in annoyance and turned your attention back to Billy.

Manipulation it was.

“Billy, baby, c’mon.” You tried instead, drawing on that need he had to be wanted. “You don’t wanna do this. Not to me.”

“Shut. Up.”

“Let me outta these, yeah?” You kept pushing and found the slightest piece of admiration for you. He tried to hide it, to ignore it so killing you wouldn’t hurt him. But you found it. The slightest hint of an attachment. “We can… We can fix us. That’s what you want, right? You and me, clean slate.”

At that, he turned his head. The colored neon showed just enough of his expression that you saw the wide eyes he gave you. Disbelief, but want so clear on his face. If you had seen that expression hours before, maybe it would’ve changed your mind.

“C’mon, Bill. You don’t wanna hurt me, right?” You urged, nearing your own desperation as your arm was hit again and the jolt made your whole body react. “Please.”

The skin beneath the damaged Bite was burning, likely being worn through by the constant assault. The muscles in your arm were victim to constant spasms, soaked through with the remnants of electricity. It was almost enough to make you scream.

Billy drew closer but didn’t put his rifle down. He kept looking between you and the scene behind you, keeping an eye out for Frank no doubt. If Frank got close enough, you knew you could count on him to get you out, but at the time, that wasn’t an option.

So instead of screaming, you let yourself cry. You would’ve used some old pain or trauma of your own, but there was enough coming from Frank that you didn’t need to.

“Billy..” You said in a small voice, hoping to appear helpless and pathetic as the tears fell down your cheeks. “Please, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, just…”

He had just taken a hand of his gun to reach for a knife when he must’ve seen Frank. He was quick to raise his gun again as shots came in from the other side. You tried to duck and a bullet hit the center of the zipties wrapped around the pole. Your arms fell quickly and you reached to grab Billy’s rifle.

Once your hands were on it, you spun your legs and went off the opposite side of the house to force his gunfire towards the middle of the carousel. He released the trigger after a bullet bounced back and caught him in the cheek, causing him to fall to the ground yelling in pain.

You smiled slightly as he spit out the bullet. You knelt down, ensuring your foot was on the rifle, and grabbed Billy by his face. Your fingertip pressed on the new wound and fresh blood bubbled out and over your fingers. The sight drew another sadistic smile.

“What happens when you’re dead, hmm?” You asked, an innocent tone in your voice that didn’t match the scene at all. “Who’ll mourn you?… Look at you now, pretty boy. Какая пустая трата этого красивого лица.” (What a waste of this pretty face.)

He shoved your hand off and grabbed you by your throat. You let him back you against the center of the carousel and laughed to yourself when he pulled a handgun. You snuck your hand behind your back and grabbed one of your own, carefully wrapping your fingers around the cold metal as his came to your forehead.

“Count of three?” You asked with a smile.

He added more pressure to his grip and you coughed slightly at the restriction of air.

“You come out where I can see you, Frank, or I kill her right now!” Billy yelled, looking in either direction for Frank before looking back at you. “You beg.”

“No.” You said flatly.

“You beg Frank to come out and save your life, right now!”

“Fuck you!”

“Beg!”

“You know I’d never hurt you right?” You mocked him loudly, though it wasn’t much of a yell with his hand around your throat. “I never loved you, y’know.”

“What?”

“I was just passing the time.” You shrugged, a sadistically out of place smirk finding your lips. “I bet you loved me though. Cause I knew how to lie.”

“I’m gonna enjoy this.” He sneered but the venom in his tone did nothing to hide the blue fog that seemed to shape his words.

“I doubt it. And as far as Frankie’s concerned, yeah, he doesn’t care about me either.” You laughed. “Go ahead and pull the trigger. I dare you.”

“Let her go, Bill.” Frank said from a few feet away but your eyes didn’t leave Billy.

“Doesn’t care, huh?” Billy taunted before turning back to Frank, instructing him to ditch his gun.

You heard the clatter of his gun and soon after, his knife.

“Идиот.” You said to yourself, which caused Billy to pull you a few inches forward and slam you back. The impact triggered another shock from your busted device and you cried out sharply. (Idiot.)

“Shut up or I put a bullet in you right now!” He screamed in your face.

“Давай.” You sneered through gritted teeth. (Go ahead.)

“Bill, let her go.” Frank tried, desperation spewing from him like a busted pipe. “Let her go.”

“Attachments are a weakness, Frank.” Billy said, his voice dripping with condescension. He let you go to take a few steps closer to Frank and you collapsed, one side of your body still tingling with the electricity of your Bite. “I never had anybody.”

“Don’t.” You tried to get to your feet but Billy ignored you.

“You had us, Bill.” Frank answered and Billy shot him.

You flinched at the sound and looked up, surprised to see Dinah kneeling in front of you. Suddenly, you were the one starting to panic.

“What are you doing here?” You asked quietly as she helped you to your feet. “How did you know where we would be?”

“You okay?” She asked in the same hushed tone instead.

“I’ve got cuts around both wrists and I’m pretty sure I’ve burnt some of the nerves in my wrist and hand. What do you think?” You gave a sarcastic expression. “Listen, he’s lost it, alright? You need to-“

Before you could finish your sentence, a gunshot sounded and Dinah went down. Her finger on the trigger went off as she did and the bullet from her gun nicked the underside of your jaw, skirting along the bone. You teetered back against the mirrored center and the commotion started between the boys. You opened and closed your mouth to break up the burn from the bullet and peered down at the fallen agent, blood pooling from the new hole in her skull.

Your previous panic was burned out, replaced by a familiar heat of anger. A heat you used to curse but were thankful for. Your anger came with the red tint, the manic bloodlust that had come to worry you. Only now you reveled in it, welcomed it. You counted on it. You would thrive with it.

Billy was too focused on fighting Frank to realize you were coming up behind him. You ran up and used the pole closest to him as leverage. You gripped it with both hands and threw your feet forward to hit his back and send him to the floor.

He spun to his back as you were landing and he kicked one of your feet out, dropping you to your knees. You began to reach behind you when a bullet hit your wrist. It went in through the bottom and came out the other side. You cried out and clutched the bleeding joint. You yanked the broken Bite off and the shattered device left chunks of material behind in the opening. Blood bubbled and filled the now empty space and your hand trembled while a thick stream leaked down your arm.

You reached into your boot for your knife to cut your sleeve off. Using your teeth, you pulled some of the fabric away from your arm and pierced it with the knife. You yanked it down your arm before trying it haphazardly around your wrist. You tried to flex that hand, ensure there was enough blood getting to your digits, but the muscles were already tight from the electricity.

You had no idea if you’d bleed out by the time the night ended. It was a sharp slap in the face to realize that you really could die that night, to something as stupid as blood loss.

Matt’s voice came into your head at that point.

C’mon, Sweetheart. You’re not giving up yet.

You shook the thought and focused back on the scene in front of you. Billy had just thrown Frank to the ground so you grabbed your knife again and went after him.

You reached around from behind and out the blade to his neck. Before you could pull it and slice him open, he grabbed your arm and flipped you over his shoulder. Your back hit hard and he began turning the blade to point at you.

One of his hands wrapped around yours to keep the knife in your hand and the other pushed on your arm. You threw your free arm up to block it and flicked out the short blade at your wrist. You swung it quickly and blindly, but you felt it connect. Where it hit, you didn’t know but it was enough for him to let you go.

Frank got to your side and helped get you to your feet. You gripped your knife tighter and it shifted against your bloody palm before you put it away.

You wanted to do it with your bare hands.

Billy’s foot connected Frank’s chest and he fell back against one of the horses. 

You waited until you saw Frank up on his hands and knees before you moved. You vaulted over Frank, planting your hands on his back for stability as you kicked your feet forward. Your legs wrapped around Billy’s waist and you hauled yourself upright. The momentum of your upper body was enough to throw him into the nearest pole. One hand locked around the strap of his bulletproof vest from the underside while the other threw sharp punches.

You felt his hands on your waist and before you could react, he was driving forward with the intent of slamming you into something. You released his vest and pulled your hand back quickly, slicing a shallow gash from the middle of his jaw to his temple. You brought both arms up and slammed your elbows down against his spine, just as the middle of your back hit hard against the carriage-shaped seat and knocked the air out of you before you collapsed to your knees, wheezing in a poor effort to refill your lungs.

Again, Matt’s voice but this time he said a phrase you had never said around him. Something you learned from your aunt.

You can’t breathe, you can’t fight.

That was when you knew you were losing it. He shouldn’t have known that saying, yet you heard his voice as clear as the music around you. If you went down, you truly understood, you wouldn’t get back up. And for once in your life, that actually scared you.

You moved back at him quickly, swinging your blade at Billy. He ducked it easily and you wondered for a moment if it was due to the blood you lost. You buried the thought and moved in again, aiming a sharp jab at the bottom of his bulletproof. He jumped away from your attack and you dropped to your knees to knock his feet from under him.

As he fell, you pulled your blade back out. You flipped it over the back of your hand and tried to slam it down, aimed right at the soft spot at the base of his throat. His hand shot up and caught your hand, desperately trying to keep the tip of your knife away.

You threw your leg over him so you were straddling his chest with hopes of leaning enough of your weight forward to get the knife to pierce. After a few more seconds of no progress, you groaned loudly and pulled your hand back. You lifted the knife high and held it in both hands.

You screamed loudly in frustration as you drove it down again. Billy was quick to throw you off, your knife getting lost in the process. You two kept rolling until he was able to get on top of you and pinned your arms above your head.

You thrashed under his weight but to no avail. Every movement seemed to drain more strength than usual so out of desperation, you slammed your forehead against his. He fell off you and you were quick to shift and kick your feet hard, one heel catching him in the cheek in the same spot your knife slashed earlier.

You got to your feet and took a deep breath as Billy got up, only a few feet away from you. You two locked eyes a moment and from the taste in your mouth, you knew you weren’t the woman he was used to seeing. Now bloodied, chest heaving with heavy breaths, eyes empty save for the thought of murder. You were what the rumors said Exodus to be, especially when you smiled.

You rushed him again and threw an acrobatic kick that made him stagger backwards. When you landed, you swung the blade at your wrist. You made sure to keep your bloodied wrist out of the way for the most part, relying on the short knife on your wrist. You managed to catch him with small gashes, just able to slice his shoulder or his arm.

The tip of Billy’s wrist blade came at you and caused you to change your stance, resulting in a shallow stab to your stomach and exposure of your injury as you swung a heavy hook to counter. He caught your wrist and held tightly but you refused to make a sound. Instead, you used the other hand to grab his shirt and hooked a foot around his. You threw your body weight and flipped you two over again so you slammed into the ground. You landed on your side, aggravating your long standing rib injury, and you groaned to yourself as you uneasily got up to your feet.

Before you even register Billy’s location, he grabbed the back of your neck instead and you shot a foot out to keep him from slamming your head again. You added the other foot and kicked off, throwing your body against his.

He hit the horse behind him and you hit him, but both of you went down.

Frank took over at that point, pinning him down and beating on him while you used one of the horses to haul yourself up. Your hands slipped from the blood and your own legs threatened to go out from under you. You glanced down and saw the makeshift dressing was already soaked through and dripping. You groaned to yourself and wondered how much longer until it was half past midnight and Dex would show up.

Matt’s voice came again.

If you can’t stand, you can’t fight… Get up and fight. Back. Don’t let him win.

You wobbled on your feet and you were turning back at the fight when Frank slammed into your side. Your ribs knocked into the horse and felt the crack echo through. You groaned loudly before pushing yourself up, just in time for Billy to grab you by your hair.

Before he could do anything, you jumped over the horse and heard the thud of him hitting it behind you. You spun to face him before you pulled his arm over the top of the horse and you slammed your elbow down. The snap was loud and he cried out, signaling it broke. You smiled viciously before you fired from your Bite, a shot that caught him on the shoulder. He reeled away and you fired again, hitting almost the same spot. You followed after him and slammed the blade at your wrist into his shoulder before you grabbed his shirtfront. You yanked hard while throwing yourself back, pulling you both to the ground.

Your bloodied hand reached behind you and pulled one of the guns. You leaned back and the blade pulled back with you while you aimed. Before you could fire, he knocked the gun out of your hand. He changed your positions and you were on your back with his knee on your bulleted wrist.

As if on cue, Frank tackled Billy off.

“Никогда не заканчивается, не так ли…” You said to yourself, holding your fragile hand to your chest. (Never ends, does it…)

You had practically no feeling left in it and your fingertips were growing cold to the touch. You could move the digits but just barely. For a second, you thought they’d have to amputate your hand.

You forced the thought away and made your way back to Frank who had Billy against the mirrors. As you got closer, you saw the blood dripping from Billy’s stomach. You got there just in time for Frank to drag Billy’s face down the shattered mirror and you smiled genuinely. Frank backed off for a second to check on you and Billy tried to use the moment to his advantage.

You caught the punch he threw and shoved your short blade through his forearm, seeing the tip of the blade come out the other side. He screamed out and you forced him arm down, pressing your other at the base of his shoulder before you dragged him in a circle and shoved him face first into the jagged mirror. The action pulled the blade off your wrist but the blade was still lodged in his arm.

Frank held Billy by his hair and put a piece of the broken mirror against his throat. You stood beside your friend and pulled out your other gun, pressing it to Billy’s temple.

“Everyone I know will know your name.” You said lowly. “И все они будут презирать тебя за то, что ты сделал.” (And they’ll despise you for what you’ve done.)

You two met eyes in the shattered mirror while Billy mumbled something you weren’t listening to.

Your hearing had muffled itself by then. The edges of your vision were blurring and you felt unsteady on your feet but you pushed as the adrenaline faded from your blood. You persisted because you needed to see it through.

You came too far.

The two boys exchanged words before Frank put his weapon away. You hesitantly did the same but before you could attempt to speak, Frank kicked Billy into the glass again.

He slammed Billy into it a few more times while saying something you didn’t register. He offered you a turn and instead of slamming his head, you kicked your foot forward and your heel hit his face. You heard the crunch as the shards dug in deeper and while Frank finished his monologue, you remembered Dinah.

You made your way over and practically collapsed at her side. She was alive, at least. By the time Frank got to you, you were on the brink of passing out. Frank tried talking to you but you hardly processed any of it.  Instead, you forced the other Bite off and shoved it into his hand.

He practically threw the device before he sat beside you and carefully dragged you into his lap. One arm was behind you to keep you upright while the other reached for the bullet wound. You were fighting to keep your eyes open when you felt a sudden cold.

You weren’t sure if it was your own body temperature or Frank but when you got your eyes to focus, if only for a second, you couldn’t miss the blue haze across Frank’s eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You managed weakly. 

“You’re okay…” You couldn’t hear his words but you could read his lips. “It’s gonna be- gonna be okay. Just stay with me.”

Your head fell to the side and you saw a figure running up to you. He practically fell to his knees in front of you and his hands carefully cupped your cheeks.

————————————

You were no longer cold or in pain. You were no longer dripping blood and in agony. Everything was calm, quiet. Everything felt peaceful.

You felt at peace for the first time.

The scene around you had changed from the carousel to a vast, empty space. There seemed to be a spotlight on you and Matt, while everything else was drowned out in a heavy darkness.

“You’re safe, baby.” Matt promised. “You can stay here, with me.”

“I love you.” You said quietly.

“I love you, too.” He smiled.

—“C’mon, Princess. Not here.”—

“Did you hear that?” You asked, glancing around the shadows before Matt pulled you against him.

“Hear what?” His brows furrowed as he led you in a small box step. “It’s okay, Y/N/N. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

—“Y/L/N? Can you hear me?”—

“No, someone else is…” You shook your head as you understood something. Looking at Matt, you realized he was looking at you in return.

Looking at you, meaning he could see you.

—“I can’t find a pulse. We’re losing her!”

If Matt could see you, if Matt was there with you, then you weren’t at the carousel. Not consciously, at least. You were on the true brink of death.

“I’m dying.” You realized.

“Stay with me.” Matt tried, holding you a bit tighter as if he knew you had to choose.

“I can’t…” You whispered. “I can’t die like this, Matty.”

“Please.”

“My beautiful baby.” A female voice said.

Your attention turned quickly and you saw a woman standing a few feet away. She had tears in her eyes and her hands covered her mouth, but the crinkle at her eyes showed you she was smiling. You dared to take a step closer and you realized the woman had the same eyes you did.

“Mom?” You asked quietly, your stomach sinking.

“Hi, sweet girl.” She answered sweetly. “You grew up so beautiful.”

“Mom…”

“Hi, Y/N.”

Y/N… No, that wasn’t right. Your mother should’ve used the name she had given you. The name Dreykov took away.

“This isn’t right.” You said to yourself.

—“Goddamit, Y/N. You don’t get to die here, too… I told you to stay outta this.”—

“It’s okay.” Matt offered. “You don’t have to fight anymore. Isn’t that what you wanted? Peace.”

“Yeah… But not like this. Not if it hurts them.”

“It’s not about them.” Your mother’s voice - what you imagined her voice to be at least - came again. “It’s about you and your peace. Why should you go back for them?”

—“Dammit, Y/L/N, come on!”—

“I can’t leave them.” You understood. “Not like this.”

“Sweetheart?” Matt tried.

“I love you, Matt, so much. Every beat of my heart will be yours until it stops. I'm just not ready to die.”

“I love you too, Y/N/N.” He smiled softly, a sight that was nearly enough for you to stay with him.

“I will never love another, not like I loved you. I just don't have the love for it again… And I’m sorry I let you down.”

“You never let me down.” He gave you a small smile. “You’re exactly who you’re supposed to be.”

————————————

Your eyes opened to a hospital setting. You felt the throb of your pulse at your tightly wrapped wrists. Your entire body was stiff, taped and wrapped and bandaged in various places. You tried moving to adjust on the bed but the pain in your ribs reignited and you froze.

But the explosions were gone. The heat in your veins extinguished. The eternal hole swallowing whatever was left of your soul was erased. Being that close to death seemed to reset your emotional alignment.

“Just relax.” A familiar voice said from your side. Looking over, you saw Dex beside you and you felt some relief in the familiar face.

“How long has it been?” You asked, though you could barely hear your own voice.

“Four days.”

“You’ve been here the whole time?”

“Yeah.” He breathed in relief. “Pretty much, yeah. I had to make sure you pulled through, y’know”

“Guess that’s why you look like shit.” You joked.

“You’re one to talk.” He laughed lightly.

“Four days…” You repeated thoughtfully. “Does that mean Russo’s dead?”

“Uh, no. No, he’s not. Eleven hours under the knife and they’re still not sure if he’ll regain any significant brain function. Some of the nurses were saying he may not even remember the name if he ever wakes up.”

“What about Castle? Madani?” The incessant beeping from the corner of the room, likely the machine tracking your vitals, began to sound quicker. “Dex, don’t tell me this was all for nothing.”

“They’re alright.” He spoke quickly but his eyes stayed on the beeping machine. “They’re fine. Madani woke up earlier from what I hear. Looks like you took the real brunt of it.”

“Okay, good.” You sighed in relief and you lifted your more heavily bandaged hand to examine the wrapping. “Speaking of, just how bad?”

As if on cue, the doctor came in and gave you a quick rundown. Burned nerves in your hand. Shattered bones in your wrist. Deep cuts around both wrists. Severely broken rib. Concussion. Various bruises and cuts, including a stab wound near your belly button and a bullet nick under your jaw.

She suggested pins to repair the rib and said you’d need some physical therapy for your hand, along with a brace to absorb impacts from work even though they weren’t sure if the pain would ever go away. Some dexterity would be lost but you had expected that. She also explained that they utilized the bullet’s entry and exit to do most of the bone repair so there wouldn’t be additional scarring, as if that small cosmetic detail would make you feel better.

It didn’t.

You denied the pins and before she could try to convince you, your SAC walked in.

“You’re insane, you know that?” She said flatly once the doctor left.

“Yeah, so I’ve been told.” You agreed. “I’m guessing I’m fired?”

“No… Agent Madani explained why Russo was such a target for you two and it’s enough to piss off and interest both bureaus. Together, the bureaus will provide you two with all the legal resources we can to get Russo behind bars.”

“Behind bars…” You repeated slowly. “Attempted murder on two feds and manslaughter of another?”

“It’s my understanding that he won’t stand trial for Agent Stein since the operation was falsified.”

“You’re kidding.” You groaned. “Alright, well what about Castle?”

“What about him?” She shrugged. “Officially, he was never there.”

“He saved my life.” You argued firmly.

“The narrative has been… redirected. Lewis Wilson and William Russo are the only suspects anyone needs. Your statement and Agent Madani’s statement will corroborate that. Homeland had worked very hard to give your ‘friend’ his life back. Do you really want to take that from him?”

“Did Madani agree to this?”

“She’s the one who wanted to help Castle.”

“I want to see him.”

“No, we need to take your statement first. Interactions outside of this may influence your memory.”

“Well as of now, my statement includes Frank Castle going toe to toe with Russo to give me every chance to go home.” You said sharply. “It includes every hit he took that was meant for me and how I was used as bait to lure him out while you are trying to influence my memory.”

“Traumatic events can impact your memory of the event in its entirety.” Your SAC countered calmly. “Frank Castle was never there.”

“Your statement needs to match the official report, Y/N/N.” Dex tried, a more gentle tone than Hattley.

“Then maybe I should wait till it comes out for it to jog my memory.” You sneered.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood, agent.” Hattley said instead. “Get some rest and we’ll try again later.”

Once she left, you turned to Dex.

“I wanna talk to Frank.” You said quietly.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea right now.” He answered. There was an attempt at sincerity in his voice.

“If I don’t, then he’s gonna be sent away and he won’t know that I’m okay… Please, Dex. He’s my friend.”

“Alright.” He sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Once he left, the bedside phone rang.

“Hello?” You answered cautiously.

“Hey there, sugar cube.” A familiar voice said on the other side, one that drew an almost immediate smile.

“That’s a nickname from a children’s show.” You laughed.

“A fantastic children’s show that you just refuse to watch.”

“If you say so, Wade.” You shrugged with a laugh. “How’d you know I was here?”

“Oh, I know everything about you.” He reasoned. “But what I don’t know is what the hell are you out here dying for?”

“Nothing.” You said innocently.

“Right, and I’m a fluffy pink unicorn that can crap diamonds and barf glitter… Come on. Spill. What made you go rogue?”

“The guy lied and wanted to kill my friend.”

“And where was Ye Olde Devil Friend?”

“Dead.”

He gasped dramatically and you chuckled a bit. “I’m sososososo sorry! You okay?”

“I’m working through it.” You said honestly. “In between caring too much and not caring at all.”

“I’ve gotta run because your guy friend’s coming back - which you need to explain that. I can see what you’re into but he also seems like he’s a chicken nugget short of a happy meal if you know what I’m saying… But call me if you need anything, alright? To talk, to cry, to run around town and stab some sickos, make friendship bracelets, vandalize someone’s car. Whatever it is, I’m there for you. Okay, pookie bear?”

“Never call me that again.” You laughed. “Thanks, Wade.. Hang on. How do you knew Dex is-“

“Okay, byyyyeeee!!”

The phone call ended and you sat in quiet shock for a moment. You shrugged it off as part of Wade’s usual antics and replaced the phone. You shifted to get comfortable on the bed when your rib reignited, sending a fresh burn of pain through your side.

“Может быть, булавки были бы хорошей идеей.” You muttered to yourself. (Maybe the pins would’ve been a good idea.)

“Hey, Princess.” Frank’s voice stole your attention.

You smiled widely as he came and sat on the edge of the bed. The action pulled on your busted lip and scraped jaw but you ignored the openings. “Look like hell.”

“Yeah.” You agreed with a small laugh. “Yeah, he sure didn’t take it easy on me.”

“Bet you wish you had listened to me now, huh?” He gently lifted your shot wrist. “How bad’s this?”

“Permanent nerve damage and shattered small bones. Doctor says I’ll need a brace and it could hurt for the rest of my life.”

He set your hand down carefully and kept a gentle hold on your fingers instead. You returned the hold as best you could, despite the pain that shot ups from the small movement.

“Just like that rib, huh?” He tried to joke.

“Had to make it a pair, y’know?” You joked in return.

“They fill you in on Russo yet?”

“Yeah, that he’s basically a vegetable right now and may or may not be worth anything ever again... I want him to remember. I want him to see me and now that I helped do that to him. And I want him to know he deserved it.”

“You really do got a mean streak.” He chuckled.

“They also told me about your help being omitted from the final narrative.”

He hummed in agreement.

“You know where you’re gonna go?”

“Anywhere, I guess.” He shrugged. “But I didn’t wanna go anywhere till I knew you’d be alright.”

“Honestly, Frank, I don’t think I’ll ever really be alright again… Not even physically but mentally. Losing Matt messed with my head and when I was right on that cusp of dying, I saw him. He practically begged me to go with him.”

“Y/N, you did die for about a minute.” Frank said gently.

“I did?”

“Yeah, your heart stopped. Blood loss, they said. Your partner was able to get you started again but it was one of the worst minutes of my life, y’know. You’re family, like a sister. And if I… If I had lost you at that carousel, Jesus, I would’ve…”

“I’m sorry.” You said honestly. “I didn’t think about it that way until it was almost too late.”

“Yeah, I could hear it in your voice that you weren’t thinking or caring.”

“I just couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t want to live with that anymore.”

“So why’d you decide you wanted to live?”

“I heard you.” You shrugged. “You and Dex, begging me to stay… Reminded me I’ve still got something here, I guess.”

“Good thing is that part of your heart that Murdock got to is still there.”

“Yeah, I guess.” You nodded. “Doesn’t make anything easier, though.”

“Nah. You and me don’t get easy. Easy gets boring.”

At that you laughed, which made your side hurt, but you didn’t quite care at the moment.

“I’ll get you when you’re released and take you home, alright? Get some rest. You need it.” Frank said kindly.

“Yeah, I feel like I got hit by a bus.” You agreed as he stood.

He reached forward and gently put a hand on top of your head. You smiled slightly as you understood what the gesture meant. He was grateful you were alive. He was grateful you were in his life to begin with, on his side and willing to fight right next to him. But there was also a hint of regret, like he wished you didn’t have to.

Three days later, you were able to go home. During those last few days, you gave your official statement to your bureau and your deposition regarding David’s involvement.

You went with Frank to bring David home. He asked you both to come in but you politely declined. Though as you two were pulling away, Leo came running out. She came straight to your window and knocked on it till you rolled it down. She put the familiar hourglass back in your hand, insisting you keep it for the next person you need to help. She then lifted the cuff of her sleeve to show the red drawing on the top of her wrist while she proudly said she had her own now.

You encouraged her strength and she smiled brightly, waving vigorously as you two left. It was a good thing you did, because you were tearing up at that point as you thought of how you had actually helped her.

Frank stuck around with you at Curtis’ meeting that night. He spoke about the uncertainty of what comes after war and how the silence after the gunfire was hard to live in. You understood that. Fighting beside Daredevil was your own war and once he was gone, it was quiet. Too quiet.

Frank drove you home that night and opened your car door. When you got out, you hugged him tightly. He returned the gesture, though he was more careful of your still lingering injuries.

“You’re gonna be alright, Y/N/N.” He said gently.

“I know.” You sniffled. “I’m just not looking forward to doing it alone.”

“You’re not alone. You got Karen, Nelson, Curtis, that church Murdock went to. People out here, they care about you, right? And you still got me. Anytime you need me, you call me, okay? And I will get my ass over here. I don’t give a damn what Madani or Homeland have to say about it. You got it?”

“Yeah.” You smiled slightly and stepped back. “Thanks, Frank. I know we probably won’t talk much while you’re gone but if you get yourself in trouble, you can call me, too.”

“I know.” He returned the smile. “And here.”

He handed you an envelope.

“You’re giving me money, too?” You joked and he scoffed slightly.

“Cause you need it, right?”

“I do. Rent’s not cheap, even with the billboard… Really, what is it?”

“It’s a letter, smartass. I know it’s hard, losing that one person who meant everything. And it’s not the same but for when you’re down in the dumps and are gonna go off the rails again, read it first.”

“Aw.” You gave a teasing pout. “Punisher’s gone soft.” You poked his stomach a few times while he chuckled.

“Yeah, run of the mill teddy bear over here.” He snorted a laugh. “Take care of yourself, alright? You promise me that?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

[mylambandmartyr]

David Lieberman and Frank Castle X

Cover Me / Bruce Springsteen

I Feel Love / Donna Summer

Field Commander Cohen / Leonard Cohen

[silverflameataraxia]

Saying that Karen's not important to Frank because he also saved Madani is so misguided.

Frank saved Madani because he doesn't hurt innocents, and she was never meant to get hurt. It's why he was so angry with Lieberman for hitting her and why he went back to save her. But that is not the same as him saving Karen because she's his family and he loves her. It's not the same as the absolute fear and dread on his face when Karen's in danger. When Karen's in danger, Frank can't even form words to express how worried he is and he has to resort to slamming his hand down on a table to convey what he's feeling.

When he saved Madani, there was no risk of him getting injured, but when he needed to rescue Karen? He willfully injured himself because it was the fastest way to get to her. Because his pain is secondary to hers. Frank can handle pain. What he can't handle is the thought of Karen in pain and agony.

[chvoswxtch]

lavender haze

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: frank castle never imagined he would ever fall in love again, and he certainly never imagined love could feel like this.

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, mentions of sexual content (minors please dni), mentions of pregnancy, a lil angst

word count: 8.6k

a/n: the first time I heard lavender haze by taylor swift, I immediately thought of frankie. I just really want him to be happy & have a happy ending so this is me selfishly giving him that. also just a psa, if you're on dark mode this might be difficult to read unless you switch your settings as i've been informed. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

Staring at the ceiling with you

Oh, you don’t ever say too much

And you don’t really read into

My melancholia

Frank didn’t know how you did it. You always seemed to just…know. You knew when he felt like talking. You knew when he didn’t. You knew when he wanted to listen to you talk about your day. You knew when he needed comfortable silence. You could tell when he wanted your touch, and when he needed to be left alone. You posed all of your questions meticulously with caution, always stopping an inch before the invisible boundary he had created. You didn’t take offense to his brooding moods that emerged from a detour into the past. You didn’t cover your ears at the silence that echoed when he got lost in the disconsolate caverns in his mind. You didn’t flinch at the scars you could touch, or the ones you could hear in his intermittent vulnerability. You seemed to understand him in a way no one ever had before. Sometimes Frank felt like you understood him more than he even did.

He gazed down at you as your eyes stayed fixated up at the ceiling. Today had been a bad day. He couldn’t remember if he had even asked if you were home before his fist was colliding with your front door, letting out a breath of relief he hadn't even noticed he was holding until your face came into focus. Did he even say hello to you? Did he utter anything at all? He couldn’t remember. Somehow the two of you had ended up on the floor by your record player, your head resting comfortably in his lap, as Elton John’s Rocket Man flowed through the speakers. He could hear you humming faintly as your eyes drifted closed for a moment, your palm delicately stretched out towards him in case he wanted to hold it, or simply letting him know you were there if he didn’t.

Music was how the two of you communicated sometimes. It was how you tried to relate to him when your own words weren’t enough. When he was quiet like this, your choices in music were more purposeful, to either let him know you understood some of what he felt, or to try to soothe the ache with what you knew he enjoyed. Sometimes Frank feared you really could read his mind, especially in moments like these when you seemed to know exactly what he needed without a single word. Even before he knew what he needed. He hated the thought of you being able to see into the carnage that occupied his skull. Of course he knew that was fucking ridiculous. He didn’t even know if you knew what you could do, and if you were aware, you never showed it.

Frank hadn’t had someone to run to in a long time. Someone he didn’t feel like a burden to in doing so. It had taken him longer than he’d like to admit to be comfortably exposed with you. Slowly but surely, he tore his own guard down brick by brick as you waited patiently. It wasn’t just that he didn’t want to be a liability for you, he was also nervous about just how much of himself he could reveal without running you off. Frank had managed to find you during yet another really low point in his life; a glimmer of light through all the darkness. He still remembers the day he met you in that bookstore. He often replays that memory in his head like an old comforting home movie.

You had complimented his choice in literature as he held a worn copy of The Great Gatsby in his hands, disclosing to him that it was one of your favorites. Frank was instantly captivated by you and your sweet smile. For a good ten minutes you stood there with him, discussing books you had both read, and recommending a few of your other favorites to him that you thought he would like based on his previous reads. It made him feel so…human. There was a warmth about you that made him shiver. 

To this day, Frank still doesn’t know where he found the courage to ask you to coffee, and he still has absolutely no idea why you said yes. All he knew was that he loved you, and that seemed to be enough.

I’ve been under scrutiny

You handle it beautifully

All this shit is new to me

When news broke that the Punisher was back in New York, the media had a fucking field day. Frank knew he was at fault. He had been a little too reckless and not bothered to check for cameras at the warehouse. Madani was pissed. She was giving him an earful over the phone. She wasn’t on speaker, but Frank knew you could hear every word she was saying from your spot on the couch. Every news channel seemed to be debating on the alternating justifications on why Frank was a necessary anti-hero, or why he was a psychopathic murderer. After about three minutes, you simply just shut off the tv.

Frank wasn’t even hardly paying attention to Madani’s words. Hell he didn’t even fucking care what they were saying about him on the news. If he valued public opinion, he wouldn’t be who he was. His eyes kept glancing over at you. There was a neutral look on your face, but Frank wasn’t sure if that was for your sake or his. He desperately wanted to know what was going on in your head. He didn’t know what to say. You knew who Frank was when you met, and you had never given any indication that who he really was bothered you, but that did nothing to dull the anxiety throbbing in his veins.

This was all completely unchartered territory for him, and he was absolutely lost. He had never talked to Maria about the horrors he endured and committed during his tours. Frank had vowed to keep that part of his life separate from his family when he came home. But Maria had the luxury of his anonymity. You didn’t. You didn’t have the privilege of a soldier just following orders. The evidence of his brutality was plastered everywhere for you to see. It was no longer something unspoken the two of you pretended wasn’t lurking in the shadows. It was glaring you right in the face. Frank didn’t know how you would react, and if he was being honest with himself, he was fucking scared. He didn’t want to lose the one good thing he had found that made life worth living again. He didn’t want to lose you. 

Frank cut Madani’s rampage off with the pad of his thumb, placed his phone on silent, and set it face down on the counter. He would deal with that later. This was more important.

“You were never s’posed to see any of this.”

Your head perked up when his gruff voice cut through the silence. There was a tender expression in your eyes, and your lips had pulled into a sympathetic smile.

“I know. Flaunting isn’t really your style. I’m sure this will all blow over in a couple days. Dinah will calm down eventually. It’s all going to be okay, Frank.”

The conviction in your voice had a lump forming in Frank’s throat. Despite everything, here you were trying to comfort him. Frank didn’t know what to do other than settle on his knees in front of you on the floor, head nestled against your stomach as his arms wrapped tightly around your body in silent begging. 

“I’m so sorry ‘bout all this, sweetheart. I didn’t…I never wanted any of this shit to come back to you.”

“Frank, you have never lied to me about who you are, and I have never pretended to not know.”

“Doesn’t mean I ever wanted you to see this side of me. I could handle you knowin’. That’s one thing. But seein’…what I do…I don’t want you to change your mind…”

Frank’s voice trailed off. He couldn’t finish that sentence. He closed his eyes as he felt your fingers carding through his hair. 

“Hey, look at me.”

Frank couldn’t. He was afraid of what he would see. The disgust at his actions, the regret in your choices, the recant of your affection. It wasn’t someone else’s bullets ripping away his happiness this time. It was his own. There would be no one else to blame for this. No one else’s blood would satiate this desperate vengeance. He would have to live with his own wrath and guilt. After a moment of silence, you gently cupped his strong jaw and lifted his chin to meet your warm gaze. Frank reluctantly met your eyes, but he didn’t find the repulsion he expected. All he found was acceptance.

“I love you, Frank Castle. I know exactly who you are. I don’t need anyone else to tell me. You are the man that makes me feel safe. You are the man who makes me feel special and loved. You are the man that risks his life over and over again to protect people. You are the man that brings me daisies when you know I’ve had a bad day. You are the man that twirls me around the kitchen when we’re cooking dinner together. I know you, and I love you. Every side of you. There is nothing you, or anyone else, could ever do or say that would change the way I see you, or the way I feel about you. I promise.”

Not even Frank’s own self inflicted loathing and contempt could combat your verity. He could hear the unrelenting sincerity dripping from your words as your lips brushed past his ear. He could see the genuine devotion reflected in your eyes when he held your gaze from underneath him. He could feel the profound adoration in the gentleness of your touch, holding his face in your hands as his hips found refuge between yours. He could taste the ardent desire on your lips over and over as he made love to you right there. He could even smell the sentiment of a silent promise made from the intermingling of both of your climaxes lingering in the aftermath of his display of gratitude.

Frank didn’t know what the future held for a man like him that had ventured through hell and back several times over and cheated death more times than he could count. But he had a second chance at life, and he wasn’t going to waste it. Not when he had found you. He already felt like he won the goddamn jackpot when you agreed to that first date, and he wasn’t sure how much luck he had left to really make this work. But as long as you wanted him around, he’d be damned if he wouldn’t find a way. 

I feel a lavender haze creeping up on me

So real, I’m damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal, the 1950s shit they want for me

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

When was the last time he had felt this happy? This…light? Frank couldn’t remember. It had to have been during the early years of being married to Maria, before he started getting deeper into classified ops that held more and more pieces of him hostage with every completed mission. Before he started to feel anxious about going home because he wasn’t sure who he was there. Before he started preferring being covered in blood dodging bullets with his unit than being around his own kids. 

All of that felt like another lifetime ago. Frank supposed it was, in a way. It was all a little hazy in the back of his mind sometimes. Whether that was from the tequila you had talked him into or the way your hips were swaying to the song filling the small space of the dive bar you two had become regulars at, he wasn’t sure. Could’ve been a bit of both. But as he watched you move from across the room, a playful grin on your lips as you beckoned him over with your index finger, everything else seemed to fade away.

God, you could dance. Frank was mesmerized the first time he saw the way you could move your hips. He had thoroughly enjoyed watching you from his seat at the bar, but that was nothing compared to watching you from below that night. Frank was drawn to you like a magnet, his feet moving before his brain even caught up. He grinned when you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a dizzying kiss. Frank wrapped his arms around your waist as tightly as he could, sneaking one of his large hands up the back of your shirt to feel the warmth of the soft skin on your lower back. His hands found their way to your hips of their own accord, like they always did.

“Hey, big guy.”

“Hi darlin’.”

“You weren’t gonna come dance with me?”

“Just enjoyin’ the view, sweetheart. You know I like to watch.”

Frank reveled in the way your cheeks burned a deeper shade of red, doe eyes widening and lips parting slightly in surprise. You quickly recovered, a knowing smirk taking over your mouth as you pressed your chest against his.

“Well if you wanted a private show, all you had to do was ask.”

“That right?”

Frank dipped his head to brush his nose along the underside of your jaw, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin just below your ear before nipping at it just hard enough to earn a sharp gasp from you. He let one of his large hands trail down your lower back, giving your ass a playful smack before grabbing a handful of it and squeezing gently.

“Alright then, pretty girl. Let’s get outta here.”

There weren’t always nights like this where the two of you got to go out freely and just be a regular couple. But on the occasions where you did get a little normalcy, Frank wanted it to last forever. He didn’t even want to go to sleep those nights. He just wanted to stay in the moment with you, and milk it for all it was worth. The rare moments when he wasn’t The Punisher. He wasn’t the Marine. He wasn’t a widower that had fatherhood ripped away from him. He wasn’t weighed down by the weight of the world and another lifetime of trauma and loss.

He was just Frank, and he was just yours. 

All they keep asking me

Is if I’m gonna be your bride

The only kind of girl they see

Is a one night or a wife

Curt and David had both been giving Frank hell about you. They continuously kept asking him when he was gonna “lock that shit down”. The first time he had brought you around them, they were both absolutely stunned that Frank had landed someone like you. Curt had jokingly offered to give you a head exam, and David had repeatedly asked how much Frank was paying you to pretend to be his girlfriend. 

“No seriously, I lived with this asshole for several months. There’s no fucking way he landed someone like you, unless he’s paying you. Granted…he did try to steal my wife once, but that was under the guise of alcohol and desperation on her part. Is that it Frank? You just keep her drunk so she doesn’t fully see your face or recognize how much of a dick you are?”

“Oh for fucks sake Lieberman, for the last goddamn time I didn’t-sweetheart you know what, just ignore him. We all do anyway.”

“What I think D is tryin’ to say is that we think it’s great you’re so involved in charity. I mean, you’re doin’ a real public service here. We appreciate your sacrifice, truly. I ain’t seen this man smile this much in…years.”

“This is why I can’t fuckin’ take y’all anywhere, Jesus Christ.”

Despite the teasing, you had fit in effortlessly with them. Anyone passing by the table would’ve thought you had all been friends for years. There was no awkwardness or hesitation to acclimate, you had even dished back your own playful banter throughout the evening earning you eyebrows raised in surprise and prideful smirks from Frank.

“Y’all keep fuckin’ with my girl, and I ain’t gonna hold her back. She ain’t always as nice as she looks. Hell, she hits harder than both of y’all combined. Trust me.”

Curt and David both adored you, not only because of how good you were for Frank, but also because they really genuinely liked you. As the months added up to a year, they both kept pressuring Frank to take the next step in your relationship. Once they had figured out you weren’t just a fling, and that Frank had truly fallen in love with you, neither one of them could wrap their head around why he wouldn’t want to make it official. Curt knew Frank would always love Maria, and that there would never be any replacing her. But he also knew that there would never be another you. You were Frank’s second shot. There wouldn’t be a third. There wasn’t room in his heart for a third.

Frank wasn’t an idiot. He knew you were way out of his league. Not only were you absolutely way too good for him, he also thought you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He noticed all the eyes on you everytime the two of you went somewhere. He didn’t miss the utter confusion written evidently on guy’s faces when you reached for his hand to intertwine your fingers together or pressed a kiss to his lips with a huge grin. He resisted the urge to stalk over and snap something out of place when their disrespectful stares lasted a little too long for his liking. But you never noticed any of it. Because every time Frank brought his gaze back to you, your eyes were already on him. They were always on him.

It wasn’t that Frank didn’t see a future with you. When he thought about what the rest of his life looked like, you were always there. He loved you entirely. He just wasn’t sure if he could be a husband again. Frank had proposed to Maria three months into their relationship because she was pregnant, and it was the right decision. Not to say that they would’ve never gotten married had she not been pregnant, but everything had happened so fast. Frank became a husband and a father almost overnight. He didn’t regret a second of his marriage with Maria, but he didn’t want to repeat it. He wanted to take his time with you. Frank wanted to savor every moment with you, just as you were. No pressure, no expectations, just you and him. 

You were the first person Frank had ever met that didn’t ask him to be someone else. You didn’t ask him to hide the parts of himself that were scary. You didn’t try to tame the aspects of his life that were tumultuous. You didn’t try to redirect his daunting choices. You didn’t try to pull him in a million different directions and expect him to be someone he wasn’t. You let him be exactly who he was, and loved him all the same. Frank didn’t need a piece of paper to know how much you loved him, or that you were his. You proved that to him every single day. 

I find it dizzying

They’re bringing up my history

But you aren’t even listening

Madani was on a rampage. Frank hadn’t tied things up as neatly as she had wanted, and arguably had left a bit of a mess, and she was furious. Enough to show up at his front door with Mahoney ten minutes shy of five in the morning with more rage than a person should ever have that early. Since you and Frank had recently moved in together, they were also at your front door, and Frank knew that once you were awake there was no going back to sleep for you. Pushing his own annoyance to the side, Frank apologized profusely, but you simply shrugged it off and went to the kitchen to make coffee for the four of you.

She wanted Frank to go back in and finish the job, this time wrapping everything up neatly with a bow. No loose ends. No mess. But to Frank, it wasn’t worth the risk. The previous case had taken months of prep work and careful planning. The target was high profile, with even more high profile friends, and was someone the U.S. government was not technically supposed to be going after. Madani had given Frank very strict instructions, all of which he did his best to follow, but there were unforeseen complications he had to improvise with. 

“It ain’t worth the risk, Madani. They know someone’s gunnin’ for ‘em now. It ain’t gonna be as easy to catch ‘em off guard again. The security this guy has now could put the fuckin’ secret service to shame.”

“I can’t just let him go, Castle. If this guy goes underground, that’s it. We won’t have another chance. This has to happen now.”

“I get that Dinah, alright I do. But there ain’t enough time to put somethin’ together that’s gonna work. We don’t even have-”

“Oh bullshit! That’s complete bullshit Frank, and you know it. If this guy had kidnapped Karen Page, you’d be there in a heartbeat and he’d be dead by now. You have no problem running straight into the fire when your own selfish interests are at risk but not when I fucking need you to.”

Frank’s jaw tensed at the mention of Karen and his eyes immediately diverted to you. You were finally making your own cup of coffee after bringing three to the table for them. If you had reacted to her name at all, Frank didn’t see it. He had mentioned Karen briefly to you once a few months ago, and how she had helped him find David. You knew she was present for his trial and had read the articles she had written about him. You knew there was a history there. Frank hadn’t really detailed exactly what that history was or meant. He had simply said she was someone he cared about and left it at that. You never asked about it again.

Mahoney seemed to follow Frank’s gaze over towards where you were leaning against the kitchen counter. His eyes lingered on Frank for a moment before he faced Madani and cleared his throat.

“I think the point you’re missing Madani is he has no trouble doing that when it comes to certain people. If that person isn’t in danger, he’s not gonna roll up guns blazing to a suicide mission.”

“Since when the hell are you on his side, Mahoney? You need this done as badly as I do.”

“I do. But we need to be smart about this, and you need to consider all the stakes that are involved, and who those consequences fall on.”

Brett motioned his head subtly in your direction, and for the first time since shoving her way in completely blinded by anger, Dinah noticed your presence. Her wrath seemed to dissipate a little as she glanced between you and Frank, detecting the somewhat pleading look in his eyes. Halting her pacing, she finally took a seat at the dining table and let out a deep exhale of understanding. 

“Alright. How do we do this Frank? What’s the smartest way, what do you need from me?”

“Patience, for starters.”

“Now Frank, you know better than to taunt an angry woman that’s got a full clip without a bulletproof vest.”

Walking by to place a kiss to Frank’s head, you shot Dinah a wink and lightly squeezed Brett’s shoulder on your way back into the bedroom. Dinah looked over at Frank in amusement, a smirk completely taking over her mouth as she brought the steaming mug to her lips.

“For the record, I like her better than you.”

“Glad we’re all in agreement then. Cause I like her a hell of a lot more than you two put together.”

After Madani and Mahoney had left, Frank made his way into your shared bedroom and leaned against the doorway to the bathroom as he watched you get ready for work.

“Shoulda warned you movin’ in with me meant house calls from Madani at ungodly hours.”

“Nothing I wasn’t prepared for.”

The smile you sent Frank’s reflection in the mirror nearly made him weak in the goddamn knees. 

“Can I take ya to breakfast?”

“I’d love that. I’m almost done.”

Frank watched you silently for a moment, mesmerized by all your little movements. He liked to watch you when you weren’t paying attention, when you thought no one was paying attention to you. He loved the way your nose crinkled adorably when you got embarrassed or confused, the cute little pout that formed on your lips when something wasn’t right or working, how you were always humming something when you were lost in thought. Frank pulled you into his embrace the second you turned around, brushing his thumb lightly over your cheekbone.

“I really am sorry ‘bout this mornin’. Not just, ya’know, Madani flyin’ in like a bat outta hell. What she said ‘bout Karen-”

“I know, Frank. It’s okay. She’s right, though. If Karen was involved, you wouldn’t hesitate.”

“I wouldn’t hesitate for you either.”

A shy smile took over your lips as you leaned into Frank’s embrace, gently wrapping your small hand around his wrist.

“I know that, Frank. I know you’d do it for me too. And Curtis, and David, and even Dinah and Brett. And before you even start your protest, don’t bother. Because you’ve already done it for everyone on the list. Some of them, several times.”

“Not you, though. And I hope to God it never comes to that. But if it ever does-”

“You’re wrong.”

Frank cocked his head slightly to the side, peering down at you with brows knit in confusion.

“What?”

“You’re wrong. You have done it for me.”

“When?”

“Everyday. You save me, every single day, and you have since that day in the bookstore.”

Frank stared down at you incredulously, shaking his head slowly to himself. He wrapped his arms a little tighter around you and leaned in to press his forehead against yours.

“You keep talkin’ like that, I’m gonna take you to bed instead of breakfast.”

“Why not both?”

I feel a lavender haze creeping up on me

So real, I’m damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal, the 1950s shit they want for me

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

When Frank had asked you what you wanted for your birthday, your answer was simple. Him. Frank argued that you had to let him get you a birthday present after you had gone all out for him, so you compromised. Time. That’s all you asked for. Just you and him, no distractions, no responsibilities, no work, no interruptions. Frank hadn’t hardly been home the past two months, and you had been putting in a few late nights of your own even when he was. Every night he was away from you made Frank wonder how the hell he ever managed to go eighteen months without Maria.

Two weeks before your birthday, Frank told you to request a few days off and pack a bag. He wouldn’t tell you why, just said to pack comfortably for cold weather. You didn’t even bother trying to get a hint out of him. The man had been trained for torture, he wasn’t going to give into your incessant childish begging when he was so committed to his surprise. He was still tight lipped as you both loaded his truck down and took off on a three hour drive upstate. When he turned off onto a winding dirt road and caught your puzzled expression, he couldn’t help but chuckle. It wasn’t until the cozy cabin finally came into view that a gasp left your mouth. Your head snapped towards him with wide eyes as he put the truck in park.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“You got me a cabin?”

Frank threw his head back and howled with laughter, reaching over to grab onto your thigh and squeeze gently as an ear splitting grin covered his mouth.

“Well hell, if I had known you wanted one, I woulda got you one. But since someone didn’t wanna give me any ideas, I had to get creative. This is all ours for the next few days. Ain’t no one around for miles. And the best part? No cell service.”

Even though there were tears in your eyes from how thoughtful Frank’s gift to you was, it didn’t stop you from climbing onto his lap and clawing at his belt with eager hands. Frank didn’t even pretend to put up a fight. It was your birthday after all. He’d give you whatever you wanted. And if you wanted to ride him in the front seat of his truck, well then it felt like his birthday too. You and Frank nearly christened every spot in that cabin in less than 24 hours. Frank fucked you in the large plush bed in the bedroom, the hot tub, on the kitchen counter, in front of the fireplace, on the dining table, in the shower, the couch, and even against a tree when you went for a walk together in the woods.

For three days it was absolute uninterrupted bliss, and Frank had never been happier. You both took turns cooking meals, even though Frank was adamant about doing most of the cooking since it was your birthday trip. He dazzled you with his baking skills when he handcrafted a red velvet birthday cake with cream cheese frosting; your favorite. You both found a beautiful trail that had a breathtaking view of a lake and had a picnic there. Frank slow danced with you around the living room with only the glow of the fire and moon to illuminate the space. It felt like a dream neither of you wanted to wake up from.

After spending nearly an hour with his head buried between your thighs and another with his hips pressed firmly to yours, Frank held you delicately against his chest. His thick fingers ran loosely throughout your hair, lightly scratching at your scalp how he knew you liked. He watched as your fingertips carefully traced scars and indentations along his chest and abdomen. Sometimes when you laid like this, you asked him the story behind each one. But tonight, you were unusually quiet. Frank lightly nudged his nose against your temple.

“What’s goin’ on up there?”

“I don’t wanna go home.”

Your voice was small and fragile, like a shattered piece of glass that hadn’t yet fallen to pieces. Frank had almost forgotten that tonight was your last night here. He had been trying to make you forget too. 

“Me neither, sweetheart. We can always come back.”

You hummed quietly in response, tracing invisible words above Frank’s heart that he couldn’t quite decipher. He placed his index finger under your jaw and lightly grasped your chin to tilt your head back.

“That it?”

Frank could see the hesitation in the depths of your eyes. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, something you always did when you were contemplating your words carefully. For a second, Frank was worried he might have done something wrong, or not done something he should have.

“We can go somewhere nice for you birthday when we get back if you wanted-”

“No, no Frank that’s not it. This…this has been the most perfect and special birthday I’ve ever had. It’s the first time I’ve even enjoyed celebrating my birthday since I was a kid. I guess I’m just…feeling selfish.”

“Selfish? You’re allowed to be selfish on your birthday, darlin’. That’s kinda the whole point, ain’t it?”

“My birthday was three days ago.”

“So?”

The tiniest of smiles tugged at the corner of your mouth as you shook your head slowly. Frank watched as your gaze dropped back down to where your fingertips were still writing invisible words.

“C’mon baby, talk to me. Feelin’ selfish how?”

“I just…don’t wanna go home. I like this. I like having you all to myself. I like being here with you, doing all these things together, feeling like I’m your…just…it’s nice.”

“My what?”

Frank dipped his head slightly to meet your gaze, but he couldn’t catch it. Whatever you wanted to say, you were guarding it. 

“Your…main priority.”

Priority wasn’t the word you wanted to use. Frank knew it as soon as the words left your mouth. You couldn’t lie to save your life. He knew there was something else you wanted to say, but he couldn’t figure out what. Neither of you kept things from the other, and he couldn’t understand why you were doing that right now. He gently grabbed your neck and held your face with his fingers, searching your eyes for any kind of clue. They were shimmering with a translucent layer of sadness, but he couldn’t tell what from.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

“I know. I love you, Frank.”

“You are my main priority, baby. I want you to know that. I know I been gone a lot lately, and I’m sorry ‘bout that, but you do come first. You need me, you call me. I don’t care where I am, what time it is, or how small you may think it is. You need me, you call me, and I’m there. No questions asked. You got that?”

Nodding slowly, you closed your eyes for a moment as a tear slipped past your lashes. Frank brought his thumb up to catch it before it could descend down your cheek, holding you even tighter against his chest.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be. S’alright, honey.”

“I just miss you when you’re gone, Frank. So much. I worry about you all the time. I get scared that everytime I hear your voice on the phone might be the last…or what I would do if you didn’t come home-”

“Hey, look at me. I will always come home to you. I promise. You will always have me. Always. I miss you the second I step out that door, and all I can think about when I’m away is comin’ home to you. Nothin’ could ever keep me away from my favorite girl.”

Frank pressed his lips to your forehead in a soft kiss, lingering there for a moment as he held you tightly in his arms. He made another promise that night that once every couple of months you two would get away for a while. No distractions, no responsibilities, no interruptions. He made love to you two more times so that the only thing you could feel was him. He kept himself inside you as he wrapped you up in his body completely, whispering sweet nothings into your ear until you fell asleep. When the morning came, he woke you up with his head nestled between your thighs, chasing any lingering feelings of sadness away with his tongue until there was nothing left but pure gratification. 

Talk your talk and go viral

I just need this love spiral

Get it off your chest

Get it off my desk

Things had been different after you and Frank got back from your trip. They were so subtle, he wasn’t entirely convinced he wasn’t going crazy and imagining things that weren’t there. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was, but something was different. Something was off. He could feel it. 

There was a dissonance between the two of you. Frank noticed you had become a little distant, withdrawing into yourself at times. Of course he had no room to speak, he had been guilty of doing that on several occasions. He figured you might have been going through something and needed your space until you were ready to talk about it. So, he did what you always did with him. He was patient, provided reassurance of his presence both verbally and with gestures, and gave you the space you needed.

But then a month went by, and you still hadn’t said anything. He tried to be as patient as you had been with him, but it was never his virtue. It was driving him absolutely mad trying to put together this puzzle when all the pieces were locked away in your mind. Anyone else observing you wouldn’t be able to tell you were acting differently, not even the ones that knew you. But no one knew you quite like Frank. He noticed everything about you. He saw the way your smiles didn’t quite reach your eyes like they normally did. He heard the detachment in your voice when he asked you about your day. He hadn’t felt the warmth of your touch in a month. Every time he managed to make it home at a decent hour, you weren’t there. You had been spending more nights at work, making up excuses about a big project with a strict deadline. But Frank knew better. He knew you were avoiding him. He just couldn’t figure out why.

He replayed the entire trip in his head over and over again, searching for anything out of place that would explain your behavior. The only thing Frank could think of was your last night at the cabin when you had gotten emotional about leaving. Frank analyzed every piece of that conversation. He thought he had done everything right that night by telling you everything that you needed to hear to put your mind at ease, and making a promise to dedicate more time together. But if more time together was what you wanted, why were you pulling away?

Frank couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t be as patient as you. Something was wrong, and the uncertainty was driving him fucking crazy. He managed to easily find a way into your building, a concern he would discuss with you at a later time, and was barreling towards your office. The space was dark and quiet, seemingly empty, but he could see the light on through your window. Frank shut and locked the door as soon as he stepped through, barricading the door with his large frame. There was nowhere for you to run. The only way out was through him, and he wasn’t letting you leave until you talked to him.

“Frank? What are you-”

“What’s goin’ on?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what. You’ve been off since we got home. Now look…I’ve tried, alright? I’ve tried to give you space until you were ready to talk about whatever the hell this is, and ya’know be patient until you were ready to come to me…but you’re not comin’ to me. You’re hidin’ from me. Why?”

“I’m not hiding from you, Frank.”

“Yes you are. That’s why you’re here. That’s why you’ve been spendin’ almost every night here instead of at home with me. That’s why you keep tryin’ to lie when we both know you’re fuckin’ terrible at it. Ya’know I thought…I thought we didn’t do that. I thought we agreed ya’know, no secrets. No lies. So…what is it?”

The silence in the room was deafening and nearly drowned out the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. For the first time in a very long time, Frank was fucking terrified. He had no idea what was going on with you. He had no idea what he had done wrong. He didn’t like the way your face twisted up in remorse and confusion. He hated that you wouldn’t look at him. He would’ve rather faced down the barrel of a loaded gun than whatever the fuck was about to happen right now. Frank took a step forward, his eyes darting back and forth fervently as he searched your face for something, anything. His voice was gentle and laced with pure vulnerability as he pleaded with you.

“Please just…please just talk to me. Please, sweetheart. Just…tell me what’s goin’ on. I can’t…I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what the problem is. Please tell me.”

Frank watched closely as you rubbed your palms slowly down your face, looking anywhere but at him as you glanced around your office. You closed your eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, and Frank’s fingers twitched at his sides in anxious anticipation.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Frank.”

Your words caught him completely off guard, and he blinked a few times as confusion settled between his dark brows.

“What?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you finally lifted your head to meet Frank’s unrelenting gaze. You gave a light shrug of your shoulders as a tiny melancholic smile covered your lips.

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Frank I…I know you love me. I know that, okay. But…is that it?”

Frank cocked his head to the side slightly as he stared down at you. He could see that you were waiting for an answer, but he couldn’t figure out what the hell the question was. 

“I’m not followin’, sweetheart. Is what it?”

“Is that all there is? I mean am I…am I it? Because you are Frank. You are it for me. I know what I want from you, but I have no idea if you want it too, or if you even want it at all. I don’t know what you want.”

“Sweetheart, what I want is you. Is that not clear?”

“Yeah but for how long, Frank?”

Frank stared at you silently, feeling completely lost within your riddle. He was trying his hardest to follow along, but a piece of the puzzle was still missing. You were still holding something back. He wasn’t sure if it was the same piece you withheld that last night at the cabin, but it was preventing him from being able to see the whole picture.

“What do you want?”

“Frank-”

“Say it. Whatever it is you been too scared to say, just say it. I’m not gonna understand until you tell me, so just get it off your chest.”

Hesitation flashed across your face, and he could practically feel the uneasiness radiating off of you. Frank watched as you caught your bottom lip between your teeth and took a few steps forward to gently pry it away with his thumb. He reached out to take one of your small hands in his, brushing his thumb lightly over the back of your knuckles before giving it a delicate reassuring squeeze.

“Talk to me.”

“I want a future, Frank. I want a future with you. I want everything with you.”

“You don’t think I want that?”

“I don’t know, Frank. You’ve never mentioned it, we’ve never talked about it. I don’t know what you really want. I know that I love you, and I want to be with you. Always. You’re it for me, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want a life together. I want…a family. Our family. I just…I don’t know if you want any of those things.”

It was your turn to be nervous as Frank stared down at you silently while processing your words. Once everything clicked in his brain, he felt like a fucking idiot. He had told everyone that he wanted a future with you. Everyone except you, apparently. He hadn’t told you that whenever he thought about his future, you were at the center of it. He hadn’t told you that you were it for him too. He hadn’t explained why he never mentioned marriage or starting a family to you. Hell, he hadn’t even stopped to consider if those were things you even wanted. Not once in the past year and a half had he bothered to ask. 

You had tried to subtly give him a hint that last night at the cabin. Frank had a sudden epiphany as your words echoed in his head. I like being here with you, doing all these things together, feeling like I’m your…main priority. He knew you hadn’t meant to say priority, but it wasn’t until now that he realized what you were actually trying to say. 

Your wife. Your partner. Your future.

“A family?”

“Yes, Frank. A family.”

The sincerity in your voice absolved any remaining apprehensions Frank had about making it all official. He could do this again. He could do it with you. He knew you didn’t need a piece of paper either to know how much he loved you, but if it made you feel more secure in your future together, he would do it. He would do anything for you. Frank shoved everything off of your desk quickly before lifting you by your hips to set you up on top of it. His hands were in the middle of pushing your dress up your thighs when you placed your palms against his chest and laughed nervously.

“Frank, what are you doing?”

“You want a baby sweetheart? I’ll give you one. Right now.”

“Frank-”

“You just tell me what kind of ring you want. You got it.”

“Frank I…I don’t…I didn’t mean right now. We don’t have to figure this all out right now. I just…wanted to know what you wanted. If…if you wanted a future with me too. I mean…I want you to want this too. I don’t want you to do it just because it’s what I want. If you-”

Frank cupped your face in his large hands and leaned in to kiss your lips softly. He sighed in content against your mouth, nuzzling his nose against your own. He pressed his forehead to yours as he started deeply down into your eyes.

“I love you. I love wakin’ up next to you. I love that you’re the last thing I see when I close my eyes at night. I wanna spend the rest of my life lovin’ you. Ya’know after Maria…I wasn’t sure I’d ever want to do any of that again. I wasn’t sure if I could. But if that’s what you want, then I want it too. We’ll figure it out together, yeah?”

“Really?”

“When you’re ready, I’m ready. I promise.”

I feel a lavender haze creeping up on me

So real, I’m damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal, the 1950s shit they want for me

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

You and Frank were not a traditional couple. You never had been. There was nothing traditional or normal about your relationship, but neither one of you seemed to really care. Everything between the two of you had always happened exactly as it was supposed to. You did everything on your own terms, at your own pace, and only followed your own expectations that you two had established together. Now that you were both on the same page about your future together, you simply decided to let the rest of the pieces come together when it was their time. 

Over the course of the next year, you and Frank only fell harder and more deeply in love. True to his word, Frank made sure that you two had some little getaway planned every three months. The walls of your home were filled with little snippets of your favorite memories from your trips together. There were even a few that Curt and David along with the rest of the Lieberman family had joined you on. You started your own holiday traditions of spending them with yours and Frank’s chosen family, and David’s kids were absolutely thrilled when you got Frank a puppy for Christmas last year. Frank had even let them have the honor of naming him which is how you ended up with an adorable big baby of a pit bull named Zeo, a combination of their names.

Life was so full for the two of you, it never felt like anything was missing. There were only more things you wanted to add to it. Frank eventually found himself at complete peace with the idea of becoming a husband and father again. There was no pressure of expectations or rush to catch up with anyone else. He had simply healed enough to make that choice of his own accord. Being your husband was what Frank genuinely wanted for himself. He wanted to be a complete unit with you; a team. For your three year anniversary, Frank took you back to that same cabin and proposed to you in front of the golden glow of the fireplace. A month later, you had a small intimate little ceremony at that beautiful spot by the lake you had found during your first exploration. 

There was nothing traditional about it, but it was perfect. David got ordained and performed the ceremony, asking you three times if you were absolutely sure you wanted to be legally bound to Frank forever. Curt and Sarah stood by yours and Frank’s sides. Zach and Leo were the ring bearer and flower girl. You and Frank had even gotten Zeo a little bowtie for his collar. The “reception” took place at yours and Frank’s favorite diner in town. Instead of wedding cake, you two shoved apple pie in each other's faces. The celebrations continued at the bar across the street where you toasted with cheap wine and shots of tequila. Your first dance was to Can’t Take My Eyes Off You by Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons because it was the best choice on the jukebox. That night you and Frank made love more times than you could count. 

A few months later when you both decided you were ready to start a family, you left it all up to chance. You weren’t actively trying, but you also weren’t using protection. Whenever it was meant to happen, it would. Seven months later you found out you were pregnant. The grin on Frank’s face when you told him the news was composed of pure happiness. Neither of you wanted to know what you were having until the baby was born, but you picked out names that you both absolutely loved either way. Frank was present for every big and little moment of your pregnancy. All the appointments, hearing the heartbeat for the first time, feeling the first little movements and kicks. All those little things and moments he had missed both times Maria was pregnant he was now getting to experience fully with you. He was there for every second of your labor, letting you grip his hand as tightly as you needed, getting you anything you wanted, showering you in praise and encouragement when it was time to push.

Frank sobbed proudly when he held his baby girl in his arms for the first time. He was in complete awe of the beautiful creature the two of you had created together in pure love. He still questioned relentlessly what he had done so right to deserve this life; this second chance. There were still so many moments he doubted whether he was deserving of happiness. But here he was, holding his happiness in his arms. His second chance. His future. Frank wanted to stay in this moment forever.

[findyourrp]

21+. She/Her. Please be 21+ to interact!!! ❤️

About Me: I write on Discord but like to plot on Tumblr. I write in third person, past tense and semi-lit/lit (2-4 paragraphs). I try my hardest to get daily replies out. That's not always possible because I work full-time Monday through Friday. More realistically, I usually get to replies within 2-3 days.

What I'm Looking For: Marvel/Marvel Cinematic Universe roleplays. Canon x canon pairings preferred (MxM preference ; willing to take on some MxF). I'm willing to do some canon x OC (MxM only). Canon and canon divergent plots are my favorite. As long as the plot can reasonably happen within the universe, I'm okay with it. NSFW/smut highly preferred to be included (with a healthy dose of plot) but not a requirement.

I'll be listing my favorite muses to write as at the moment (I can write as more) and my all-time favorite ships (I have more and am willing to discuss others).

All characters will be 18+!

For ships: Bold = I want to write as that character ; Italics = I have a slight preference for that character ; Nothing = I can write as either character ; * = I would sell my soul to do this ship right now

My Muses:

Billy Russo

Bruce Banner

Bucky Barnes

David Lieberman

Eddie Brock

Frank Castle

Harry Osborn (James or Dane)

Helmut Zemo

Loki Laufeyson

Matt Murdock

Nathan Summers/Cable

Norman Osborn (Dafoe only)

Peter Parker (Andrew!Peter only)

Sam Stein

Tony Masters/Taskmaster

Tony Stark

Wade Wilson

My Favorite Ships:

Billy x Bucky *

Billy x Frank *

Billy x Matt

Billy x Sam *

Billy x Tony *

Billy x Wade

Billy x Curtis

Billy x Madani

Billy x Karen

Bruce x Loki

Bruce x Tony

Bruce x Thor

Bruce x Natasha *

Bruce x Valkyrie

Bucky x Zemo *

Bucky x Tony

Bucky x Steve

David x Frank

David x Sarah

Eddie x Andrew!Peter

Eddie x Wade

Eddie x Venom

Frank x Matt *

Frank x Andrew!Peter *

Frank x Karen

James!Harry x Tobey!Peter *

Dane!Harry x Andrew!Peter *

Loki x Taskmaster

Loki x Tony

Loki x Wade

Loki x Mobius *

Loki x Thor

Matt x Andrew!Peter

Matt x Wade *

Matt x Elektra

Cable x Wade *

Norman x Otto *

Andrew!Peter x Taskmaster

Andrew!Peter x Wade *

Andrew!Peter x Tobey!Peter *

Andrew!Peter x Male MJ *

Andrew!Peter x Gwen *

Taskmaster x Wade *

Taskmaster x Sandi

Tony x Tom!Peter

Tony x Strange *

Tony x Steve

Tony x Pepper

Tony x Natasha

Wade x Dopinder

Wade x Logan/Wolverine *

Wade x Vanessa

If you'd like to work something out, please like this post and I'll message you as soon as I can. Please only like this if you actually plan on getting back to me.

.

[darkdoverpseeker]

21+. She/Her. Please be 21+ to interact!!!

About Me: I write on Discord but like to plot on Tumblr. I write in third person, past tense and semi-lit/lit (2-4 paragraphs). I try my hardest to get daily replies out. That's not always possible because I work full-time Monday through Friday. More realistically, I usually get to replies within 2-3 days.

What I'm Looking For: Marvel/Marvel Cinematic Universe roleplays. Canon x canon pairings preferred (MxM preference ; willing to take on some MxF). I'm willing to do some canon x OC (MxM only). Canon and canon divergent plots are my favorite. As long as the plot can reasonably happen within the universe, I'm okay with it. NSFW/smut highly preferred to be included (with a healthy dose of plot) but not a requirement.

I'll be listing my favorite muses to write as at the moment (I can write as more) and my all-time favorite ships (I have more and am willing to discuss others).

All characters will be 18+!

For ships: Bold = I want to write as that character ; Italics = I have a slight preference for that character ; Nothing = I can write as either character ; * = I would sell my soul to do this ship right now

My Muses:

Billy Russo

Bruce Banner

Bucky Barnes

David Lieberman

Eddie Brock

Frank Castle

Harry Osborn (James or Dane)

Helmut Zemo

Loki Laufeyson

Matt Murdock

Nathan Summers/Cable

Norman Osborn (Dafoe only)

Peter Parker (Andrew!Peter only)

Sam Stein

Tony Masters/Taskmaster

Tony Stark

Wade Wilson

My Favorite Ships:

Billy x Bucky *

Billy x Frank *

Billy x Matt

Billy x Sam *

Billy x Tony *

Billy x Wade

Billy x Curtis

Billy x Madani

Billy x Karen

Bruce x Loki

Bruce x Tony

Bruce x Thor

Bruce x Natasha *

Bruce x Valkyrie

Bucky x Zemo *

Bucky x Tony

Bucky x Steve

David x Frank

David x Sarah

Eddie x Andrew!Peter

Eddie x Wade

Eddie x Venom

Frank x Matt *

Frank x Andrew!Peter *

Frank x Karen

James!Harry x Tobey!Peter *

Dane!Harry x Andrew!Peter *

Loki x Taskmaster

Loki x Tony

Loki x Wade

Loki x Mobius *

Loki x Thor

Matt x Andrew!Peter

Matt x Wade *

Matt x Elektra

Cable x Wade *

Norman x Otto *

Andrew!Peter x Taskmaster

Andrew!Peter x Wade *

Andrew!Peter x Tobey!Peter *

Andrew!Peter x Male MJ *

Andrew!Peter x Gwen *

Taskmaster x Wade *

Taskmaster x Sandi

Tony x Tom!Peter

Tony x Strange *

Tony x Steve

Tony x Pepper

Tony x Natasha

Wade x Dopinder

Wade x Logan/Wolverine *

Wade x Vanessa

If you'd like to work something out, please like this post and I'll message you as soon as I can. Please only like this if you actually plan on getting back to me.

like if interested!