#frank castle x female reader/oc

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Black eyed & Blue ||

Chapter 1 - Skull & Crossed Wires

Frank Castle x Female Reader/OC

Notes: I'm posting this first short chapter in my Frank Castle and female OC/reader mini series in the hope that it will spur me on to finish it! I have some other chapters written already just need to get them where I want them and write some more. 😊

Warnings: kidnapping, blood, biting, general vampire themes, fluff & smut, frank being protective, Matt makes an appearance.

Please comment and let me know what you enjoy or would like to see as the story develops and I'll see what I can do!

Frank managed to limp his van to the nearest garage before it crapped out entirely. He had cleared it out after his latest 'road trip' back at the safe house. It wouldn't do any good if the mechanics found any of his arsenal…

He left them with the keys and said he'd check back in a couple of days. Leaving a cell number was out of the question too, he still wasn't quite comfortable leaving much of a trace even if he was now 'Pete'.

He walked up to the shop office two days later, hopeful he could throw down a few hundred and get going. A fraught looking gangly guy was having an in-depth discussion on the phone as he entered. He passively waved Frank in the direction of the garage floor, pulling the phone away from his mouth and yelling towards the doorway.

"Blue! Customer!"

Frank gave him a semi-polite nod and headed through the side door where his van was jacked up, a pair of dark blue Converse sticking out from underneath.

"Uh, right. Guess it ain't ready yet." Frank ventured.

"No shit Sherlock." A voice came from below.

"Can see why you got Shaggy on the front desk there, customer service ain't your thing huh?"

The feet peddled their way out from under the van to reveal a woman with her hair tied up out of her face with a blue bandana. She had an oil-smudged face, and chipped sky blue nail polish on her fingers. Her mouth dropped open as she pushed herself up and took in the figure of Frank standing over her.

"Oh fuck- I mean, shit! Damn! Fuck!" She winced. "I'm really sorry mister… thought you were Ray winding me up again. Sorry, I'm trying not to cuss as much but, um…"

Frank couldn't help the sly smile from spreading across his lips.

"Think you're doin' well enough. Don't you worry about it. Maybe uh, you can gimme an idea when she'll be ready?"

She got to her feet, wiping her oily hands on her dirty coveralls, which were also blue.

"Well, that's the thing. I'm still waiting for a part to come. I woulda called you to let you know but, uh, you didn't leave a number so…

"Yeah, don't have a phone." He scratched at the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Kinda hate all that tech shit y'know."

"Wow. Well, okay old man, I'm not sure exactly when it'll arrive, our supplier is vague at the best of times, I really wanna find someone better but…"

Frank couldn't help grumbling a little. He was keen to get back on the road, after all, biker gang ass wasn't gonna kick itself. "Then I guess 'i'll just keep comin' back every day till she's ready."

Blue smiled politely. "Once it's here I'll get it fixed as fast as I can but if you refuse to have a phone like us regular people I guess that's just what you'll have to do. See you tomorrow then?"

Frank nodded. "Yeah. See ya tomorrow."

The next day Frank dropped by the garage late afternoon, he'd had a particularly rough night chasing down some dregs of the Dogs of War that refused to go down easily.

"Jeez, what the heck happened to you?" Blue asked, looking up and seeing the dark bruises around his eyes as she heard him come in. "I mean, if you don't mind me asking? Those are some shiners."

"Walked into the side of the door when I got up during the night to piss. Bein' how I'm an 'old man' an all," Frank deadpanned back.

"No shit. You gotta be more careful, looks a bit like someone belted you right in the kisser!"

Frank shrugs.

"To be honest I wouldn't be too surprised if they had. Don't take this the wrong way but you've kinda got one of those punchable looking faces, mister..?"

"It's uh, Pete." Frank replies with a slight chuckle, only slightly offended. "And is that so?"

She holds out her oily hand for him to shake. "Hi Mister Pete. They call me Blue. And yeah, I mean you're real good looking and all but-" she stopped as Frank shook his head and laughed.

"Jeez, I really gotta stop running my mouth around strangers! I am so sorry…"

Frank holds up both hands giving her a smile, it had been a while since he had laughed as much. "Hey, no worries. Punchable and good lookin'? I'll take it. So, Blue, huh? No need for me to ask why I guess. "

She returns the smile, scuffing the toe of her shoe into the ground shyly. "I just like the colour."

Frank clears his throat. "So uh, there any news on that part yet?"

"Oh! Yeah, um it might be tomorrow but…"

"Might not?" Frank finishes with a slightly tense shrug.

"Yeah, really sorry about this, Pete. I'd even go as far as to offer you a free coffee in apology but our machine's bust, and even if it was working it tastes crap anyway."

"Don't worry about it. Alright well, guess I'll seeya tomorrow again."

Blue gave him a little wave. "Yeah, seeya tomorrow Old Man, hope I've got some good news for you then."

Frank just shakes his head, smiling to himself as he leaves the garage and sets off back home.

The next day, when Frank turns up, Blue's face is bright with the biggest smile, and it only got brighter as she saw what 'Pete' had in his hands.

"Hey!" She greets him animatedly and it makes him feel a little warmer inside.

Frank nods then hands her one of the carryout cups of coffee he has. "Hey, didn't know how you take it but I got some sugar and milk here too if you want, seeing as your machine is broken an all."

Blue beams, her fingers brushing briefly over his as she accepts it. "Oh, thank you so much! And no, that's great, straight up is perfect, so kind of you, thanks Pete!"

Frank shrugs. "S'nothin'."

She takes a hearty sip and then remembers what she was about to say. "Good news by the way, the part arrived this morning! I'm about to get on it right now, shouldn't take too long if you don't mind waiting?"

Frank nods, finding a space to sit nearby. "Yeah, sure, if you don't mind me watching you work."

She disappears under the van. "Actually, gives me the chance to ask what the hell you've been putting this poor van through, you gotta take more care of her if you don't want to run her into the ground."

Frank huffed. "Yeah, just been real busy, y'know, and my work takes me all kinds of places, some uh, rough terrain."

"What kind of business are you in Pete?"

He scratches the stubble under his chin. "Uh, removals, pest control, odd jobs. That kinda stuff."

"A Pete of all trades?" Blue suggests, and Frank has to laugh.

"Yeah," again he feels the rare smile stretch his face as he strokes his stubbled jaw. "Somethin' like that."

It wasn't till later, when he was on the road again rummaging through the glovebox for the map when his hand landed on the tin of sweets. He took them out, curious seeing the note stuck to the lid.

'Something to sweeten you up, old man :)

-Blue'

He chuckles to himself as he opens the tin and takes a candy.

[bellaxgiornata]

Bella's Masterlist of Matt Murdock, Frank Castle, Michael Kinsella, & Sam Winchester Series & One Shots

I am currently working on multiple series and fics for Matt Murdock, Frank Castle, Michael Kinsella, and Sam Winchester. I've updated my Masterlist so that each link will bring you to a separate, organized Masterlist for each specific character because there are just so many now! There's also some "bonus" characters I write for listed at the bottom of this Masterlist (Henry from Eat Locals and Daryl Dixon from The Walking Dead). Always feel free to chat with me about any of the fics or characters I'm writing for. Y'all know I'm chatty!

I post new fics/updates multiple times a week and all of my stories are available fully on tumblr and my AO3. If you'd like information on my tag lists you can find that here.

**I do not currently accept story requests because I have too many ongoing projects at the moment!**

Bella's Tuna-Tober Masterlist [Matt Murdock, Frank Castle, and Michael Kinsella]

Collection of Short Blurbs [Baby related one shots & blurbs featuring Matt Murdock, Frank Castle, and Michael Kinsella]

Masterlist of Matt Murdock Fics and Series

Masterlist of Frank Castle Fics and Series

Masterlist of Michael Kinsella Fics and Series

Masterlist of Sam Winchester Fics

Masterlist of Daryl Dixon Fics

Additional Characters:

Henry (Eat Locals) x Fem!Werewolf!Reader Mini Series

Forbidden Love [Installment List]

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hi, idk if you write this kind of thing but would you mind writing something with either carmy berzatto or frank castle and a recovering addict! gf?

she relapses and he's angry but he loves her so he's gentle. he doesn't know what to do.

i’m not doing so well atm and i’m really struggling to stay clean, your writing and just fics in general really help take me out of my own head.

There's Always Tomorrow.

Frank knows you better than you know yourself. It's a blessing and a curse.

Author's Note - hi sweet anon. i'm sorry to hear you're not doing so well at the moment. i lost a good friend of mine to addiction, and i know how hard it can be. just know that you're never alone - there's always someone you can talk to. you're doing amazing, and I'm wishing you all the best. you've got this.

i got this request and knew i had to write it, as it's something very close to my heart. i've tried to handle it as sensitively as possible, without going into too much explicit detail. i've included some resources at the bottom of this post such as websites and hotlines if you feel like you need some support. so much love to anyone who's struggling. i see you, and i admire you. you're always stronger than you think x

Pairing - Frank Castle x Recovering Addict Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - addiction. mentions of relapse. talk of sobriety and being clean. cursing. please do not read if this will be triggering to you in any way.

Word Count - 1.7k

Masterlist. Requests.

Frank knows something is wrong the minute he walks through the door.

Usually, he yells honey, I'm home! and is greeted by you jumping into his arms, covering his face in kisses.

Today, you're nowhere to be found.

He's storming through your house, yelling your name at the top of his lungs. A thousand scenarios are running through his head, all of them horrifically tragic. He's terrified.

He gets to the closed bathroom door and yells your name again.

"Sweetheart, you in there?"

You don't reply, but he hears you sniffle.

"Shit, baby, are you cryin'? Open the door. Whatever it is, I'll fix it, okay?"

"You can't," you sob. "Not this time."

Frank has never heard you this upset, and he's starting to panic.

"Open the door, honey. Please. Just open the door and we'll work somethin' out."

"You don't want me to," you cry. "You're going to hate me."

"Hate you? I could never hate you. I love you, you know that. Open the door. Please."

You sniffle again, but make no attempt to move.

"Alright. I'm about to break it down. Move back, so I can kick it in."

"Don't you dare," you threaten. "This door was expensive."

"Then open it."

You're not sure if it's his words, or the way he sounds exhausted, but you decide to give him some respite. You stand up and turn the lock, before slumping back down into your spot on the floor.

Frank takes a good look at you, and his heart shatters.

Your cheeks are tracked with mascara stained tears. You're wearing nothing but a tank top and some underwear. Your hair looks like you've been running your fingers through it repeatedly. Your lips are bitten and raw. You look tired.

"Baby," he whispers. "What happened? Are you hurt? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you lie.

"You're not fine. You're clearly not fuckin' fine. We don't lie to each other, do we?"

When you don't answer, he grabs your chin to look at him where he's standing.

"Do we?"

"No," you mutter, shaking your head. "We don't lie to each other."

"That's right," he says, moving to kneel in front of you. "Now please, honey. What happened?"

Silence. More sniffles.

"If I tell you, you're going to hate me. You're going to leave me and you're going to hate me."

"I don't think there's anythin' in the world that could make me hate you," he reassures.

Frank looks at you intently, proving you have his full attention. He cups your cheek gently, and waits for you to tell him the truth. Eventually, you speak.

"I relapsed," you whisper.

Frank's whole body goes rigid, and he freezes. He's still looking at you, but it's different now.

"Frank," you say gently. "Did you hear me?"

"I heard you."

Your blood runs cold. He sounds... distant. Detached. He sounds angry.

"Please don't hate me. I told you you'd hate me. God, I knew this would happen."

There are fresh, warm tears streaming down your face, dripping onto your shirt. Frank still remains stoic, removing his hand from your cheek.

"I don't hate you," he says eventually. "But I need you to give me a minute."

With that, he rises to his feet and leaves. You're left on the bathroom floor, sobbing and alone.

 ⋆ ��　 .  ✵　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 

Frank sits on the edge of your bed, trying his best to take deep breaths.

Your addiction isn't a secret. You've talked about it time and time again, telling Frank all of the details that you swore to yourself you'd never tell anyone. You met him, and felt instantly safe. He's the perfect confidant - he listens, he understands. He's compassionate, he's gentle, he's empathetic. You've opened up again and again, and Frank has never judged you once. It's one of the reasons you fell so hard for him.

You've been clean since you met him. A naive part of him hoped that he'd never have to see you otherwise. He knows that sobriety is a journey, he knows that it isn't linear. But he hasn't been through it. There's only so much he really understands. He tries, though. God, he tries.

He's sitting in your shared bedroom, wondering why he left you in the bathroom by yourself. Is it because he can't bear to see you upset? Is it because he can't handle it like he thought he could?

He realises, suddenly, that it's because he simply doesn't know what to do. He's never been in this situation before, and he doesn't know which course of action to take. Does he sit and cry with you? Does he yell at you to never do it again? Does he tell you he still loves you, no matter what? He decides, unsure, to try a mix of all three.

Frank strides back into the bathroom and sees you still in the spot he left you. You're still crying, and it lodges a lump in his throat. He fights back his own tears, and sits down next to you, pulling you into his arms.

"Hey, hey. You're okay. We're okay. It's all okay."

"It's not okay, Frank," you sob. "I'm so mad."

"At me? I'm sorry, honey. I shouldn't have stormed out like that. I just panicked and -"

"No, no. At myself."

Frank soothingly strokes your hair, rocking you gently. You relax into his hold, tears subsiding slightly.

"I've worked so hard on being clean. It's a choice, every single day. Why did I choose wrong today? I've ruined everything. I've fucked up all of my hard work, all of my progress."

"You know," he begins. "There's no end goal here. It's a constant journey. And on any journey, there's gonna be ups and downs."

You try to protest, but he cuts you off.

"One bad day doesn't determine the rest of the week. Or the rest of the month. Or the year. Okay?"

You nod your head, and he kisses your temple.

"There's always tomorrow, baby. There's always tomorrow. We can start again. Today doesn't undo everything. It just changes your course a little."

"Frank Castle. A poet. Who knew?" you tease. He laughs, and the vibrations buzz through you both.

"Only for you, honey."

You both sit on the floor for what feels like hours, content to just hold each other. Frank is wondering what caused the events of the day, what made you feel like you had no other option, where you even got a hold of everything. But he doesn't ask. He knows you'll talk about it tomorrow. Instead, he wraps his arms around you tighter, and tries to match his racing heart to the beat of yours.

"Promise me that if you feel like this again, you'll tell me. I don't care where I am, or what I'm doin'. We're in this together."

"I promise," you whisper.

"There's always tomorrow, honey," he murmurs into your hair.

"There's always tomorrow," you echo.

He's right. There's always tomorrow.

Al-Anon / Ala-Teen Hotline - 800-356-9996

SAMHSA Hotline - 1-800-662-4357

DrugFree Hotline - 855-378-4373

Alcoholics Anonymous (UK) - +44-800-9177-650

DAN 24/7 (England&Wales) - +44-808-8082-234

Narcotics Anonymous (UK) - +44-300-999-1212

MIND Website (lots of useful UK resources here)

SAMHSA Website (USA)

these are just a select few. there are hundreds, if not thousands, of websites, hotlines and places to turn for support if you're struggling. asking for help might be the hardest thing you'll ever do. but it's so worth it. promise x

[buckyhoney]

𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this idea got stuck in my head, but enjoy another kinktober fic!

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!frank castle x sub!reader

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤/𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 & 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝! 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭/𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬!

𝟏𝟖+ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+, language, bondage, daddy kink, very light dumbification kink, light degrading kink, praise kink, oral (m receiving), face fucking, sorry for any missed typos!

"Look at you," Frank stepped back, admiring his work.

The knot was complex and tight around your skin- enough to leave little imprints.

You looked up through your eyelashes at the man towering over your body. The sight of the rope tied intracity around your chest alone was enough to cum- the way the thick rope highlighted your breasts and restrained your hands behind your back.

Tonight, Frank wanted to try something different than your usual. You weren't sure if you're like being this restrained, but when you caught a glimpse of yourself from the mirror behind him? You couldn't help but feel the flutter between your thighs.

"S'perfect," He mumbled, running the side of his finger under the side of your breast.

"What are you gonna do with me, Daddy?" Frank kneeled in front of you, dipping his hand between your legs, soothing your inner thigh.

"Hm, Daddy's gonna have so much fun with you, bunny." He smiles as his thumb runs over your clit.

Bunny.

Frank felt your pussy contract.

"You liked that one, didn't you?" The heat rose to your cheeks and you shyly nod.

He teased over your clit a few more times before pulling his hand away.

"You're gonna be a good little bunny and suck Daddy's cock, yeah?" Nodding gently, you settled back on your legs.

Frank stood up in front of you. His cock was already leaking with precum the moment he discarded his briefs. He's heavy and thick- it's a wonder how you're able to fit him inside you. The sight made your mouth water and reach to touch him, but you were stopped by the rope holding your wrists securely behind you.

"Aw, dumb bunny, did you forget you can't use your hands?" You could feel the arousal leak from your pussy.

"Daddy's gonna help you, you don't need to think about anything else except my cock." He stroked himself a few times in front of you, watching your eyes light up.

"Open." You stick your tongue out, waiting patiently for his next move.

Frank taps your tongue- teasing you, but you whine impatiently. He chuckles, slipping himself inside your mouth. Instinctually, you close your lips around his tip. You push forward, taking more of his length. Frank smiles at your obedience, caressing your cheek.

"Good girl. More." Obeying his command, you relax your jaw allowing him to push all of himself inside your mouth.

His tip grazes the back of your throat and you gag around him. Frank pulls himself out completely, letting you get a breath. Your chest heaves and your sounds are already horse.

"Just like that- 'm gonna fuck that pretty little mouth now, okay?" Your pussy ached and you nodded eagerly, readjusting on your legs.

He gets a good grip on the back of your head before beginning with soft thrusts. There are incoherent curses each time he hits the back of your throat. You're looking up at him, not breaking eye contact- even as the saliva and precum drip down your chin.

Frank loved how obedient you are, how willingly you were to give up breath for a taste of his cock.

You kept attempting to reach for him, only to be reminded that it wasn't an option. It began to frustrate you and tears swelled in your eyes.

Frank watched as the tears trickled down the sides of your face as you fought against the rope. You knew it was a losing battle, the knots were too thick.

Oh, the tears. The tears.

"Oh, bunny, you look so fucking pretty crying over my cock-" He grunted, picking up the pace.

"That mouth- fuck- 'm gonna cum-" Soon your throat became numb and you're eyes fluttered open- the only thought running through your mind was his cum.

"Shit, bunny, s'perfect for me, choking my cock like that-" His thrust became sloppy and you're whining around him, begging for his cum.

Frank holds himself against your mouth as ropes of cum shoot down your throat. The moans get caught in his throat but escape with such rasp.

Pulling himself out, his cum spills around the corners of your mouth. You're gasping for air, but Frank kneels down and holds your throat. You stick your tongue out, showing him that you've swallowed all you could. Frank is beaming and brings his mouth to yours.

"That's my fucking girl, such an obedient slut." Frank is in awe of you, how eager you are to please him, and good you always make him feel.

"Daddy's so proud of you," Frank helps guide you to stand.

[supernovafics]

𝐌𝐀𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

word count: 5.4k words

summary: in which you want to get revenge on the people that killed your brother, but you needed frank’s help to do so

warnings: explicit language, death of a loved one, blood/mentions of violence, angst, implied smut

author’s note: i was working on this on and off for the past maybe three months (going through that never ending cycle of gaining inspiration and then losing it). and i’m so happy that it’s final done! and i really love how it turned out!! hope y’all enjoy<333 (full folklore series here!)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

❝and there's nothin' like a mad woman. what a shame she went mad. no one likes a mad woman. you made her like that.❞

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“Y’sure you don’t want to just stay here?” 

Frank’s question didn’t surprise you, but that didn’t change how annoyed you immediately felt by it. 

“I’m not letting you go in there alone,” You were quick to tell him, and you firmly buckled your seatbelt to show him how serious you were. “Especially because you’re only doing this for me.”

“I’ve done worse things.”

It was hard to rebuttal Frank’s statement because you knew exactly how true it was, but you still said something. “I’m coming.”

Frank only nodded his head at your words before finally beginning to drive the car the two of you were sitting in.

If it were a year ago, you would’ve actually understood Frank’s hesitance toward you coming because, in comparison to who you were now, you were completely different then. And sometimes, it surprised you how vastly your life had managed to change in just twelve months. 

However, if it was also a year ago, you wouldn’t have needed Frank in the first place. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

❝now i breathe flames each time i talk. my cannons all firin' at your yacht. they say, "move on", but you know, i won't.❞

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Five Weeks Earlier

The pain in your wrist was what woke you up. 

A part of you felt upset because every other night, the sleep you had been getting in your motel room located in the middle of nowhere Illinois was shitty, but the deep state of rest that you’d found yourself in that specific night actually felt really good. 

When you opened your eyes, the first thing you noticed was Frank Castle sitting across the room in the creaky wooden chair that you hated. 

“Jesus Christ,” You said, shooting upward in surprise, and from the tug of your arm, you noticed why your wrist was hurting in the first place; it was handcuffed to the headboard. “What the hell?”

Frank dismissed your previous statements and instead leaned forward in the chair, squinting at you. “You’ve been following me for the past two weeks. Why?”

You mentally kicked yourself because, apparently, you hadn’t been as discreet as you thought you’d been. However, the man in front of you was Frank Castle, so it probably would’ve been more surprising if he didn’t notice you. 

You took a moment to truly think about how to respond to him. The next words that you would say would be the most important, and you knew that this was essentially your “make or break” moment with him. That was why you had only been mildly stalking him for the past few weeks instead of approaching him at any of the places you had followed him to. Because you couldn’t figure out the best way to actually talk to him. What you wanted, needed, from him was so important to you, and you couldn’t risk screwing it up. 

After Frank stared at you as you took what felt like hours to think of what to tell him, you settled on simply saying, “I want your help.” 

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and his head cocked slightly to the side. “Who are you?” 

It sounded like a fairly easy question he was asking you. But you knew that it wasn’t; he wanted more than just you simply responding with your name. 

“Eight months ago, my brother was murdered,” You started and then stopped immediately. Those words still felt so foreign falling from your lips. “He got involved with this fucked up group of people that he thought were his friends at first, but then they wanted him to do a bunch of illegal shit; robberies, drug deals, kidnappings, pretty much any horrific thing you could think of. And when he tried to get out, to leave, they killed him.”

You left out the part about how you had been so close to getting him out of it all. That days before Jackson was supposed to board a flight to where you lived in Seattle, they shot him and left him for dead in the middle of a park. 

You also didn’t tell Frank that sometimes you couldn’t help but blame yourself because you had left him alone in New York. Even though when you got your job in Washington, Jackson had begged you to go because he knew how much you had wanted the job and to get away from New York. The city that took your parents and left you as the only guardian of your brother since you were sixteen and he was five. 

But that still didn’t stop you from blaming yourself. For not forcing him to come with you when you got the job, to get a fresh start like you wanted in a completely new place, sooner. Even though he was twenty and could make his own decisions, he was still your little brother, and you always wanted to protect him. 

You didn’t say any of that to Frank, though, because you knew it wasn’t needed. That information wasn’t important to the task at hand.  

Instead, you said, “And I found them. Exactly where they are in New York. What they’re doing right now, and what they’re planning to do. But I need your help. I know who you are and what you do, and I want those people that killed my brother dead. And you’re the only person that could possibly care and help me with that.”

Frank was silent once you finished speaking and your explanation just lingered in the air of the motel room. It was then, in that moment of quiet, that you were reminded of how badly your wrist was feeling. 

“So,” You decided to break the prevailing silence. “Can you help me?”

Instead of answering your question, Frank posed a few of his own. “How do you know where these guys are? How do you know anything about them?”

Frank’s lack of a response to your very important question didn’t worry you. In fact, a part of it made you inwardly smile. Because he wasn’t saying no to you, at least not yet, and that gave you all the hope you needed at that moment. 

“I work with computers; I.T., data analysis, it feels wrong to say hacking because of its negative connotation, but yes, that too,” You began explaining, happy to tell Frank what you had decided to look into a few months ago when your grief morphed from intense sadness to anger. “And these guys are idiots. It took me less than an hour to get into my brother’s phone, get these guys’ numbers, and find every single piece of information about the shit they’re doing. I tracked the warehouse that they’re set up at outside of Long Island, and I got into all of their phones, so I know every single text message and call they’re making at any time.”

Frank studied you for a moment, almost as if he was trying to see how honest you were being. “I wanna see.” 

“It’s all on my laptop. In my bag, on the table by the door,” You responded quickly, and Frank was quick to reach into your bag and hand your laptop over to you. You gestured your head in the direction of your wrist that was still cuffed to the headboard. “Could you take the handcuff off?”

Frank nodded as he pulled a key out of his back pocket and finally unlocked the handcuff, taking it off your wrist. You almost immediately began rubbing it, trying to ease away some of the pain. 

“It’ll be bruised for a bit, but it should stop hurting after a day or two.” 

You didn’t say anything in response to that, although you did appreciate Frank’s words. Instead, you opened up your laptop and began pulling up the information that he wanted to see. 

As he looked at your computer, you abruptly said, “Thank you.”

Frank shook his head at you. “I haven’t said yes. That I would help you.”

You simply nodded understandingly at his words. However, there was a certain look of intrigue on his face as you showed him everything you knew about your brother’s murderers that told you otherwise. 

He didn’t have to say it aloud, and a part of you thought he might never actually say it out loud, but it didn’t matter because Frank Castle was going to help you. That was something you knew for certain. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

❝i'm takin' my time. takin' my time. 'cause you took everything from me.❞

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

It was nearing eleven when you and Frank pulled up across the street from the warehouse that housed the people that killed your brother. 

A part of you felt nervous knowing what was going to happen, but the other part of you felt happy that something completely justified was about to occur. 

“They’re all in there, right?”

You looked down at your laptop, which currently showed the pinpointed locations of the cellphones of everyone involved. 

Apparently, from the text messages and phone calls you had been monitoring, there was an important meeting happening right then about the next robbery they were planning. 

“Yes, they’re all there and have been for the last thirty minutes.”

“Okay,” Frank responded. “Then it’s time.”

You nodded and shut your laptop before placing it in the backseat. When you turned your attention back toward Frank, you noticed a certain look on his face that you couldn’t necessarily decipher, but for some reason, it worried you. 

You almost asked him what was wrong, but he grabbed your arm before you could mutter out the first word of the question and handcuffed your wrist to the steering wheel. You were too in shock about what was happening that you couldn’t even put up a fight against him. 

“Frank, what the hell are you doing?”

“Remember that conversation we had a few weeks ago?”

You knew exactly what he was talking about, but you didn’t allow yourself to acknowledge it right then. “I don’t care about the conversation. Uncuff me, Frank.”

“I’m not gonna do that,” He shook his head at you. “Instead, I’m gonna go inside that warehouse, handle this for you, and then come back out. Okay?”

“No.”

None of this conversation truly felt real to you. The plan that you had curated with Frank over the past weeks felt like it was going completely down the drain. And although sometimes, deep down, you thought maybe you’d be the one to bail out and change things up at the last second, instead, it was Frank forcing you to do so, and you couldn’t believe it. 

He didn’t respond to your one-word protest and instead opened the driver’s seat door. 

There felt like there wasn’t really any hope that Frank would change his mind, but you couldn’t allow yourself not to try at least once more. 

“Please, let me go in there with you. I want to do this.”

He only looked at you for a moment before saying, “No, I’m not letting you do this. You’re a good person, and doing this will change that. As much as you think it won’t change you, it will. And I’m not gonna allow that to happen. So, just let me handle this for you.”

You didn’t get another chance to protest because Frank stepped out of the car before you could say anything.

He was protecting you, and you knew that. But, it also felt like after over a month of knowing one another, he still only saw you as weak, as someone that needed saving. 

And that made you angry because you never wanted him to save you; you just wanted him to help you. You truly wanted to fight your own battle and hurt the people that hurt your brother, and he took that opportunity away from you. 

As you heard the trunk pop open and Frank reach for the guns that he put back there, two of which were supposed to be yours, you couldn’t help but think back to the conversation he had been referring to only moments ago. 

There was a certain thing he said during the minor argument that happened during that conversation, and thinking about it right then, with your wrist uncomfortably handcuffed to the steering wheel, it finally made you realize that maybe you should’ve seen all of this coming. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

❝what did you think i'd say to that? does a scorpion sting when fighting back? they strike to kill, and you know i will. you know i will.❞

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Three Weeks Earlier

You couldn’t put your finger on it, but there was something worse about the motel room in Long Island than the one in Illinois. 

The smells there were far worse than what you’d experienced in Illinois, but there was something else too, something that you couldn’t fully decipher. 

Maybe it was simply the place itself. You were back in New York, the city that took your parents and your brother too, and you truly hated being there. It no longer felt like any sort of “home” to you, and it hadn’t in a really long time. 

However, knowing what you were doing there and what was soon to come made the smallest part of you feel good about being there. And you had Frank too, as both quiet and annoyingly bossy as he was.

“Why are we waiting so long?” You had asked him one night as the two of you sat opposite one another at a diner. 

“Waiting is good. Waiting lets us know exactly what we’re up against. The guys may be idiots about keeping their shit off of computers, but they might be smart about other things,” Frank explained as he adjusted the hat on his head that he was using as part of a disguise. A part of you couldn’t help but reluctantly agree with his words. “Also, you need as much target practice as you can get. You’ve gotten better in the past week, but you’re still pretty bad.” 

You felt absolutely offended by the statement but still knew that he was completely right. However, that didn’t stop you from rolling your eyes at him and dryly saying, “Thanks for the words of encouragement.” 

“You’ll be ready when the time comes.”

You didn’t thank him for the actual words of encouragement and instead just took a bite from one of the last few fries on your plate.

The ending of that conversation left you feeling the tiniest bit hopeful, glad that Frank seemed as if he believed in you and that the two of you were actually a team in all of this. 

However, on a different night, only a few days later, the conversation had been much different. 

“Doing this won’t take the pain away,” Frank had told you. He was sitting at the foot of the double bed that was closer to the door, and you were in the other with your back against the headboard. The tiny television was on and playing reruns of Friends, as it probably had been all day. Your head immediately turned in Frank’s direction when you heard his abrupt words and as he continued speaking. “At the end of the day, he’ll still be gone.”

“I know,” You said, the two words coming out a bit sharper than you meant for them to. You cleared your throat. “But that doesn’t mean his murderers should continue to run free and keep doing severely fucked up shit.”

“I agree, but I wanted to tell you, so you can make sure you understand what you’re gonna do.”

“I know,” You told him. This time your voice was softer as you said the same two words. 

“You’re a good person. Doing this, killing people, can change that.”

“You are too.”

“I’m not a good person.”

“I don’t believe that.” You were quick to shake your head. “You’re helping me. For absolutely no reason. There’s gotta be some good in you, Castle.” 

He bypassed your statement. “Just think about this, okay?”

“My mind is already made up and has been for the past four months,” You told him before getting under your blanket and then turning on your side, facing away from Frank. You weren’t the least bit tired right then, but you were happy to pretend to bring an end to the conversation. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

❝what do you sing on your drive home? do you see my face in the neighbor's lawn? does she smile? or does she mouth, "fuck you forever"?❞

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Over the next three weeks, that conversation never came up again, so you thought that Frank ultimately stood by your decision. 

However, you were wrong. And you weren’t entirely sure how you felt about that just yet. 

Yes, you were mad at Frank, but you couldn’t allow yourself to hate him until you heard a good enough explanation as to why he wanted to do this without you. And not one that solely consisted of him calling you a “good person” because that sounded like a bullshit cop-out to you. 

It wasn’t long after Frank slammed the trunk shut and walked toward the warehouse that you heard the faint sound of gunshots. The sound startled you, even though you knew that it was coming, and you hated that the smallest, smallest part of you was glad that you weren’t in there. 

And that felt like a betrayal to not only yourself but especially your brother. 

You tried hard to push away the thoughts you knew would come next. The thoughts that you had successfully buried deep down for the past month you’d been with Frank. They were the thoughts that told you that you were to blame for what happened to your brother and that you should’ve tried harder to save him. When you thought about it long enough, the pain you felt from his death still felt fresh. 

You suddenly felt insanely claustrophobic, and you started yanking your handcuffed wrist hard in efforts to get yourself freed from the steering wheel. Of course, that did nothing but only hurt your wrist even more. However, you didn’t care because at least trying to do something at that moment felt better than wallowing in silence and crying as you thought about your brother. 

Barely twenty minutes later, you heard the sound of the trunk opening again. You hadn’t been paying attention to the sounds of the gunshots anymore, instead successfully dissociating yourself from the moment entirely, so you hadn’t noticed when they stopped, and hearing the trunk right then surprised you. 

You roughly wiped at your cheeks, which were unsurprisingly wet with tears, because some things you couldn’t push away, as you heard the trunk slam shut. And then moments later, you heard the driver’s side door open, and Frank get inside. 

He uncuffed your wrist without saying a word and especially didn’t say anything about the bruises already forming on your skin; from your pointless attempt to break free. He looked at your face— well, only the side of it, since you were staring straight ahead and avoiding eye contact with him— and he didn’t say anything about the fact that he could tell you’d been crying. 

Instead, he just started driving. 

You allowed yourself to take one quick glance at him, and right when you did, you knew that the sight of him with blood all over his clothes and face would never leave your mind. You silently wondered how much of it was his own. 

Instead of asking, you turned your head and decided to stare out the window as Frank drove back to the motel. 

“Don’t be fucking mad, okay?” He finally broke the prevailing silence after about five minutes. “It’s done and over now, and that’s what you really wanted, right?”

“Thank you,” You told him, words completely sincere, and you hoped your next ones came out the same exact way. “But, also, fuck you, Frank.”

He didn’t say anything in response to that, and you didn’t necessarily want him to, so it was a win-win situation in your eyes. Silence prevailed once again, and you continued to look out the window. 

“There was no reason for you to come in too,” Frank finally spoke. “It was seven guys. I’ve handled more than that, and smarter ones than that, before. Too many times to fucking count.”

“That’s not the point,” You responded and then sighed, not having the energy to explain yourself further. 

“Then what is the point?” Frank asked and then huffed when you didn’t say anything after a few moments. “Exactly.”

You let out a long breath before speaking. “I wanted to see them get what they deserved. I wanted to see them pay for what they did to him. That’s the point.”

Frank abruptly pulled the car over and looked at you. “So, what? You wanna go back? You wanna go see their lifeless bodies?”

You met his glare with a harsh look of your own and tilted your head a bit. “And what if I said yes?”

He shook his head and rolled his eyes at you. “It doesn’t matter because you wouldn’t say yes. You don’t have the stomach for that shit. As much as you keep trying to convince yourself otherwise, you’re not this kind of person.”

“You act like you know me, Frank, but you don’t. Like, how you keep spewing this shit about how I’m a ‘good person.’ Well, I’m fucking not.” You wanted to scream that at him, but you didn’t, and instead pulled your eyes away from his and went back to staring straight ahead at the empty road. “And you want to know how I know that? Because what happened to Jackson is my fault.”

“No, it’s not.”

You almost didn’t respond to him, but ultimately you did. “I left him, and he fell in with that group of people that hurt him. I should’ve forced him to leave the city when I did. But I didn’t. And I truly hate myself for that.”

That was the first time that you admitted out loud how much you blamed yourself for your brother’s death. And hearing the words finally fall from your lips made them feel even truer to you, and it also made your last sentence feel a thousand times more right as well. 

You sincerely did not want to hear Frank say anything in response to any of what you had just said, and instead, you wanted the conversation to end there. He must have read your mind because he didn’t say anything else the rest of the drive back to the motel. 

When he pulled into the parking lot, you stayed in the car as he exited and went to walk inside the room. He didn’t question you about what was going on in your head, which you were grateful for. 

You sighed and let your eyes slip shut. A part of you wanted to cry, but the other part of you felt too empty and numb, so ultimately, you just sat in the car in silence. 

It almost pained you to realize how right Frank was. 

Now that this was done— you got your “revenge”—  it changed nothing for you. Jackson was still gone, you were still hurting, and it wasn’t only that you lost him; you lost the final person in your family. Now you had no one. 

Although you already felt pretty numb, you sincerely craved a drink of anything, and the liquor store down the road suddenly sounded like a really good idea. But, instead, you walked into the motel room and could immediately hear the sound of the shower running. When you closed the door behind you and locked it, you planned to force yourself to sleep and hope tomorrow would bring better feelings, even though you were unsure what you would do next. 

However, when you saw the bathroom door open and heard Frank say the words, “I need your help,” you knew that you probably wouldn’t be sleeping any time soon. 

He only had a towel wrapped around his waist, and if this was any other moment, you would’ve allowed yourself to admire his body and how good he looked, a fact that never had been lost on you. However, all you could process was the gash on his hip, where you could tell a bullet had grazed him. 

“You’re bleeding,” You said, stating the obvious. 

“Yeah, that’s why I need your help,” He responded and then looked down at the open wound, examining it for a second. “It’s actually pretty deep so I need you to stitch me up.”

You hesitantly nodded and then went to grab the first aid kit that was packed in your suitcase and went over to where Frank was standing by the sink. 

“I’ve never done this before, so it is probably going to look very bad,” You told him before bending down to start stitching him up. 

He shrugged halfheartedly and glanced down at you for a brief moment. “It’s fine.”

You gave him a small nod and then pushed away the nausea you were already feeling because you had to do this. 

For the first time that night, you felt like things were too quiet, and the sounds of Frank’s soft winces as the thin needle pierced his skin didn’t fill the silence in a way that made things feel any sort of comfortable. 

Therefore, you decided you had to say something. “You were right.”

He didn’t say anything for a few moments, so you took that as your cue to keep going. 

“The pain hasn’t gone away. And honestly, it might feel a bit worse than before; I am not entirely sure yet.” The fact that you weren’t looking Frank straight in the eyes as you spoke made it easy for you to continue to ramble on and say the things that you wouldn’t have told him, or anyone, any other time. “He was the last person I had, and now I have no one. And now that this is over, that fact just feels much more solidified. So yeah, you were right, and I’m glad I wasn’t in there with you. And honestly, maybe none of this shit you did for me really mattered in the first place. I don’t feel angry about it anymore. I just feel so fucking sad.” 

There was more you could say, but you knew that you needed to stop there before you turned into a sobbing mess on the white-tiled floor. 

“I didn’t wanna be right.” Frank finally spoke, and you stayed quiet, not saying anything more as you finished stitching him up. 

“You’re done,” You told him before standing up and purposely avoiding his eyes. “And I need alcohol, so I’ll be right back.”

Frank furrowed his eyebrows at you as he went to slip on a black t-shirt. “Are you sure about that?”

You didn’t turn around as you walked toward the door. “Positive.”

Of course, you knew it was a bad idea, and maybe you should’ve noticed the wary look on Frank’s face directed at you, but right then, you didn’t really care. 

Your journey to and from the liquor store down the street surprisingly took less than twenty minutes, and when you entered the motel room again, you didn’t waste any time unscrewing the bottle of dark tequila and taking a swig from it. 

Usually, it took at least four shots for you to effectively feel something; even in college, your tolerance for alcohol had been good. However, this night you only needed to take two shots for your mind to feel fuzzy. You chalked it up to the fact that you had already felt pretty numb inside. 

After your many persistent requests, Frank joined you and took small swigs from the bottle as well. The two of you sat at the foot of the bed that was his and traded the tequila back and forth as an old sitcom played on the small television, and a silence that you didn’t mind took over. 

“You’ll be fine eventually,” Frank abruptly said as he placed the top on the bottle and put it on the floor, an action that you didn’t protest because you knew that it was definitely for the best. “It won’t hurt forever.”

Without much thinking, mainly because your brain couldn’t allow you to do a lot of thinking, you leaned your head against Frank’s shoulder and hoped that he would also be right about that because, quite honestly, you were tired of feeling sad. 

“I truly hope so,” was what you wanted to tell him, but you couldn’t form the words on your lips. However, you still wanted to somehow show him that you appreciated his words. 

You pulled your head off of his shoulder and turned closer toward him to let your lips softly press against his cheek. The proximity was dangerous, and it was in that moment that you let yourself recognize how attractive Frank was; a thought that had been off limits from the second you decided you wanted his help to kill your brother’s murderers because you knew that thinking about him in that way would only pull your mind away from the task at hand. But, now, the task was over. 

Therefore, you allowed yourself to think about the stubble on his cheek and how it tickled your chin and made you want to smile. And you also thought about how nice he had always been to you, even when he showed it to you in a shitty way. 

He might not have seen himself as a good person, but to you, he was. 

You allowed yourself to meet his eyes for a brief moment, unable to read his expression, before letting your lips slot against his. You immediately tasted the tequila on his mouth, which sent a shiver down your spine but also warmed your insides. 

For some reason, kissing Frank at that moment didn’t feel wrong to you, and you could tell by the way that Frank’s hand found your cheek and pulled you the tiniest bit closer to him that maybe it didn’t feel wrong to him either. 

You slowly pulled away for a moment to catch your breath and maneuver yourself, with the help of Frank’s hands on your waist, so that you were straddling either side of his lap. When your lips found his again, you let your fingers thread themselves in his short hair. It was both slightly surprising and flattering to feel how hard he was beneath you, and the feeling made you moan in his mouth. 

Abruptly, Frank pulled away, and your confused eyes met his gaze as he softly said, “You’re sad and drunk right now.”

Both things he said were very true, but that didn’t mean that you wanted any of this to stop. 

“It’s okay. I promise,” You told him and started to slowly move against him. However, both of Frank’s hands found your hips and halted you. You sighed before letting out a soft, “Please.”

You hated how desperate you sounded at that moment, but you couldn’t help it. For once, you didn’t want to think about anything, and you wanted Frank to do the same. 

He simply looked at you and didn’t say anything for a few moments. You could tell that he was contemplating things, but the fact that he hadn’t moved you off of his lap yet gave you a small sliver of hope. 

“It’s okay,” You told him again and hoped you could convey to him how entirely true those words were. You knew that you wouldn’t regret this, even once your mind was fully cleared and devoid of alcohol. 

He didn’t verbally respond to you and instead pressed his lips against yours, which was a response you liked better anyway. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss before matching his intensity with your own and passionately moving your mouth against his.

It didn’t take long for you to end up with Frank on top of you, clothes still on but wildly anticipating the moment they weren’t anymore. 

For once, something actually felt okay in your life, and you couldn’t remember the last time that was true. Since your brother died, you felt lost; and perhaps even before then, that feeling wasn’t too far off. 

It worried you thinking about what was next; even the thought of tomorrow scared you, knowing that somehow you’d have to go back to a life that was normal. But you didn’t want to think about that too much because doing so scared and confused you. 

As Frank peppered harsh kisses against your neck, leaving marks that would definitely be there for the next few days, you knew that there was one thing that remained certain. At that moment, you wanted him, and he wanted you. Even if it would be just for the night. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

❝and you find something to wrap your noose around. and there's nothin' like a mad woman.❞ 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

let me know ur thoughts<333

[bubuslutty]

I need to hold Frank Castle's scarred hand in mine while we're sitting down at a bench in the park eating ice-cream. I just know his hand is so warm and he's always warm because he's just so big and we've all seen him wear hoodies with no layers outside while everybody else is wearing jackets to shield themselves from the cold.

need to hold his hand so bad.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Northern Attitude

Summary: Frank Castle x fem!OC (meant to be interpreted as Frank Castle x Reader). As Frank realizes that he and Wren are growing closer, he lashes out in fear. Hurt/comfort ensues.

Content Warnings: she/her pronouns used for Wren, misogynistic language, swearing

WC: 2.3k

Note from the author: This is my first ever fic so please let me know if you like it! Lore for the universe that this story takes place in can be found here!

“If the sun don't rise 'til the summertime, forgive my northern attitude. Oh, I was raised on little light”

—Northern Attitude by Noah Kahan (it’s a great song! Check it out.) 

In hindsight, she shouldn’t have pushed him so far when he was already in a bad mood. Though, to be fair, she just wanted to help. 

“Frank, please…” She tried again, her resolve standing strong despite his complaints. 

“No, Wren. It’s getting cold. We can’t be stopping for every little thing.” He pushed ahead, not looking at her. 

“Little thing? Frank, you got stabbed—“

“‘Stabbed’ fuck’s sake. He barely touched me. Besides, bleedin’ comes with the territory.”

“Gods above,” she rolled her eyes. “Please, just stop for a moment so I can take a look? If it gets infected—“

“‘m fine Wren,” he grumbled. “Drop it.”

“It won’t take long. Just a few minutes to clean and rewrap it!” She offered, hopefully. 

“No.” 

“But—“

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE, WREN. NO!” Frank roared, spinning to face her. Wren stepped back slightly as he continued. “You think that because you’re here now, stuck to me like a thorn in my side, I need your help every time some bastard nicks me? I was damned alright on my own. Stop fuckin’ pesterin’ me about it and start walking.” 

Frank spun back to the trail, stomping away, boots crunching on the partially frozen soil. 

Wren pressed her lips together, guilt welling up in her throat. She shifted her pack to the other shoulder and started after him, keeping farther behind than before. 

———————————————————————————————————

After a few hours of walking in tense silence, the pair finally stopped at an inn. While she was quite ready for a meal and a break from trekking through dense forest, she’d been dreading this conversation for miles. 

“Frank,” she started hesitantly, “did you, um, want two rooms tonight or..?”

“Why would we waste coins on an extra room? We ain’t exactly swimming in riches these days.” He snapped at her, walking inside. 

“Oh, right. Sorry,” she murmured, trailing behind. 

The pub was crowded, but it was warmer than outside. Wren let out a breath of relief, pulling the hood of her cloak away from her face. Frank, ever the menace, left his black hood on, shoving through patrons to get to the bar. 

“What can I get ya?” The barkeep trained her eyes on Frank. 

“Beer.” He grunted, pushing a few coins towards her. 

“And a room, if you have one.” Wren added, walking up next to him, adding another handful of coins. 

“You got it.” The barkeep smiled, passing Frank a foaming pint and Wren a brass key. “Upstairs, 3rd door on the left, love.” 

Wren thanked her softly and headed off to the stairs. 

Frank set to work draining the glass in front of him. Sighing, he dragged a hand down his face. Fuck, he was tired. The wound in his side ached like hell, and his argument with Wren had set him on edge. It had been years since he’d had someone else to worry about, to care for, to let care for him—it was difficult letting that happen again after…everything. If he could muster up the courage to let his guard down, he wouldn’t mind her help stitching him up. She was always so gentle about it, and the way the warmth from her delicate touch would linger on his skin—

Frank’s dangerous train of thought was interrupted by uproarious laughter from a group of drunk patrons to his left. 

He gave a low snarl and took a swig of his beer. He was simply escorting Wren. They had been headed the same way and it didn’t make sense to pay more to travel alone. He’d wanted to make it clear that their companionship was a matter of convenience but, somewhere in the fog of shared beds and soft reassurances, the lines had been crossed. He didn’t need her. Well, he didn’t use to. The urge to just break down and give in to her sweetness got stronger by the day. And it scared the shit out of him.

It was clear that he needed to distance himself from her somehow, or he’d be sucked into her trap. Sighing roughly, he dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. Someone in front of him cleared their throat. 

The barkeep passed him a fresh beer and a bowl of stew. He looked up, curiously. The bartender smiled, “On the house. Somethin’ tells me yer girl would have my head if I gave ya nothin’ but one crap beer on a night like this.” 

Frank forced a chuckle, trying not to let the comment add to his existing emotional turmoil. “Thanks.” 

———————————————————————————————————

As he finished his meal, savoring its lasting warmth, he felt a presence over his shoulder. “How was it?” Wren murmured as she took a seat next to him. 

“A’right.” Gulping down the last of his beer, he wiped a hand over his mouth and stood from his chair from his chair. “I’m gonna head up. Don’t be long.” And with that, Frank was gone. 

Wren sighed, giving a small wave to the bartender and tossing more coins to her. Once provided with her own bowl of stew, she ate quickly and headed up to the room to face Frank for, what she hoped, would be the last time before a good night’s rest. 

When she opened the door, the light was dim, but she could make out Frank’s form on the floor next to the bed. 

“Did the mattress offend you?” She prompted him.

“We ain’t sharin’ tonight.” He grumbled, clearly nearing sleep already. “Take the bed. I’m fine down here.”

Not wanting to set him off again, she simply murmured “Alright…” and set to work dressing for bed. 

She worried her bottom lip as she settled under the covers, running through the past few days in her head, racking her brain for the cause of his outburst today. Blinking back tears, his words echoed in her head. 

“Stuck to me like a thorn in my side…fuckin’ pesterin’ me” was she being so bothersome? She’d been more open about her concern recently, but he had too. Hadn’t he? It was clear he wanted to seem like she meant nothing to him most days, but that couldn’t be entirely true. After all, his current stab wound had been obtained while wailing on a group of drunk thugs for calling her his “outspoken, unsightly whore”. 

The longer she thought about it…maybe that wasn’t a defense of her at all. Maybe she’d let her judgment of his actions become clouded by her own desire—to love and be loved. Maybe Frank had been defending his own honor, angry that he’d been so publicly associated with her. 

The tears were falling freely now, all of her resolve being poured into keeping quiet and letting him rest. Since when had she given this much of a shit about his feelings towards her? He had always made it clear, this was temporary. But the close contact and lingering stares had sparked hope in her naive little heart. 

She thought back to the first time they met. The argument they’d had over their combined fate. 

“Even if I believed in destiny, you sure as shit ain’t mine, kid. Get on your way.” Maybe she should take his former advice. 

Frank shifted on the ground, startling her slightly. She took a deep breath, deciding to speak with him in the morning. If Frank truly didn’t want to travel with her anymore, she wouldn’t be the person forcing him to. With another breath, she closed her eyes and slowly settled into a restless sleep. 

———————————————————————————————————

Frank gritted his teeth, shifting on the ground as silently as he could. Cursing his decision to ice Wren out, he let out a shaky breath. Predictably, the wound in his side did not feel better after sleeping a number of hours on the floor. He supposed that there was no one to blame but himself. 

His entire body ached, and hearing her cry herself to sleep had been another kind of agony. It took every ounce of his strength to not jump up to comfort her. He never intended to be this much of an asshole, but he couldn’t risk subjecting Wren to his family’s fate. Damn him for getting attached before pulling away, which no doubt meant it was harder on them both now. 

A small sound pulled him from his self-deprecating thoughts, a whimper. Wren was crying out for help in her sleep; her brain creating nightmares, no doubt because of the emotional toll the day had taken on her—that his words had taken on her. 

Another small cry, followed by rustling of sheets. “Please…no…please don’t.” 

“‘S ok Wren. You’re just dreamin’” He called to her, turning over and kneeling by the bed. His hands hovered over her hunched form, as if his body still wasn’t willing to break the barrier he’d worked hard to place between them that day. 

Wren choked on a nightmare-induced sob, “help…anyone please!” 

“You’re killin’ me, kid.” Frank set his jaw, running through his options. Letting her in would get her hurt, he reminded himself, he couldn’t do that to her. Frank started withdrawing from the bed, pushing down his guilt. He started to lay down, and then—

“Frank!! Frank please,” Wren bawled “please help. Don’t let them…” 

“Aw hell.” Distance be damned, his girl needed him. Carefully, he sat next to Wren on the bed, stroking her arm gently. “I’m right here, sweetheart.” After another pained cry from Wren, Frank began to gather her into his arms. “They can’t hurt ya. I’m right here.”

She woke with a start, flailing slightly before realizing where she was. “Frank?” Her voice broke as she said his name. 

“Yah, sweetheart.” He pulled her into his chest, tenderly. “I gotcha.”

Tears started trailing down Wren’s cheeks. Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, she choked in a breath. They sat there for a few moments, small sobs falling from Wren's mouth punctuating the silence. Eventually, she spoke. “I’m sorry, I— I didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

“Hey,” Frank wiped her tears with his thumb, “I was already up. Floor’s uncomfortable as shit.” He cracked a small smile, but Wren’s face crumpled. She pushed back from him and off of his lap. 

“I didn’t mean to bother you again. I’m ok. I’ll be fine.” She blinked back more tears. “We can part ways in the morning. You won’t be…won’t be stuck with me anymore.” The last sentence broke off in a strangled sob and Wren turned away from him slightly. 

“Oh Wren,” Frank murmured, furious at himself, “What I said earlier, I was angry and scared. You’re not a bother.” 

Wren looked at him through tears, “I’m not?” 

“No, lovely. I’m just an asshole. C’mere.” Frank opened his arms for her and gestured for her to come back. 

Wren returned to her place against his chest, tucking her face into his neck. “You’re not an asshole,” she sniffled. “I just—got confused.” 

Frank sighed, brushing some hair off of her cheek. “I know, sweetheart. That’s my fault too.” 

“That, we can agree on.” Wren murmured against his neck, playing with a loose thread on his shirt. 

Frank snorted. “Oh yah?” He stroked Wren’s back gently. “I’m sorry, lovely. I do care about you. I always will. But…” Frank took a shuddering breath. “If you get close to me, you’ll get hurt. It’s not avoidable. This world is too cruel to let us slip by unscathed. And I won’t let you get hurt, Wren, I can’t.”

“I know the risks, Frank. I’m not a safe choice of companion either.” Her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, but the look in her eyes was fierce as she held his gaze. “But I still want to be close to you. Are you willing to let me try?”

Frank set his jaw. “Shit sweetheart, I want to tell ya no, but when you look at me with that face...” He exhaled roughly, pursing his lips. 

“We might get hurt,” Wren continued, holding his waist with one hand to pull them impossibly closer. “But is being bitter and alone really worth it to you, Frank?” 

Frank let his head fall against hers, foreheads touching. His eyes fell closed as her free hand came up to gently knead at the nape of his neck. 

“Hey,” She whispered. “Look at me for one more moment.” 

Frank opened his eyes. She cupped his cheek, stroking it gently with her thumb. “I’m not helpless, you know. You’ve seen me in a fight. Traveling with you is the best thing that’s happened to me in years. I’m not willing to just give up on that if you want me here.”

“I want you here.” Frank affirmed. “I do, Wren. I don’t deserve it, I never will. But if you’re willing to deal with my grumpy ass, I’ll let ya.”  

“One of these days, I’ll get you to believe you deserve good things, old man.��� 

“Keep dreamin’, kid” 

Wren let out a shaky laugh, face falling back into the curve of his neck. Frank pressed his lips firmly to her forehead, then softly to the bridge of her nose. Wren scrunched her nose in response and smiled. 

“I’m sorry about today, sweetheart. I got in my head and took it out on you. Let me make it up to ya?” Frank bumped their noses together. 

“You better.” Wren gave him an overdramatic glare which made him grin. 

He kissed her forehead again. “I will. But first, I am so not sleeping on that shit floor after this.” He laid them both down on the bed. Wren shifted slightly so she was wrapped around him like an octopus. 

Burying her head in his chest, she mumbled, “You’d have to escape me first.” 

Frank chuckled. “You’ve bested me. Guess we can share.” 

Wren nuzzled into him happily. “Guess we can.” 

“Sleep well, sweetheart. I gotcha now.” 

[versatileginger]

HIDDEN | MASTERLIST

Billy Russo x OC (Ava)

Warnings: Not canon, violence, weapons, stalking (not MMC), murder, everything you'd find in The Punisher universe, no betrayal.

Summary: Billy meets someone that piques his interest. Did he mention she carries a knife?

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

TBC...

[grippingbeskar]

salt, ice and fire | frank castle

chapter nineteen - proper representation

frank castle x reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of death, description of injury, canon typical violence

a/n: OKAY. i am so sorry with how long this has taken. finals are literally eating my ass and not in a good way. but it feels so good to write SOMETHING FINALLY. i forgot how much i <3 this series. thx for sticking with me pals xx. enjoy!!!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Seven hours is a long time. Mostly, Frank thinks of you.

He can’t stop thinking about you— it’s been months since he’s had a thought that you haven’t been attached to in some way. Even when he thinks of the kid strapped in the back seat, it’s because he knows you. But, in seven hours of open road and the persistent pain in his gut at the way you left, anyone’s brain would drift.

He has no idea why he did it. Why he took your brother, why he bothered. Why he thought he’d be any better than the random group home he’d get stuck into, or the foster family that would forget about him within the week and lock him in his room, trading one shit hole for another. He can’t help but think of Billy— the Billy he knew, not the one he pulled a trigger on. That Billy he hadn’t known, hadn’t cared about.

But the old Billy, his friend. The one who dragged him out of the mud more times than he could count, the one his wife used to set a place at the table for, just incase he needed some place to eat. That Billy, who’s group home cared so little they didn’t notice they’d hired a pedophile to foster little boys.

He couldn’t let them take the risk. Your brother had been through enough— the dark rings around his eyes, a faint green bruise on his cheek, Frank hated that he saw some similarity in his own face, knowing the force they’d have to of hit him with. Maybe that’s why he offered to take Sam back with him, look after him for God knows how long, because you needed him safe, and then you’d come home to him.

With all that, knowing he’d probably done the right thing, he couldn’t get rid of the sick feeling twisting up his throat every time he glanced into the rear view mirror. Sam was staring out the window, blinking hard in an attempt to keep his eyes open. He looked like you, but only because Frank had spent so much time staring at your face. You must look like your mother, because this kid had different eyes, a different face, similar only in subtle ways someone who really knew you would see.

Frank liked kids. He never had issues with David’s kids— probably got too involved with them, if he was honest. Then there was Amy, but she wasn’t much of a kid. More of a teenager, but he never really figured out he actual age with all the damn fake ID’s she had. Either way, she’d been like a kid to him. He had a soft spot for them, it was always where he had give. So why does this make him sweat? Is it because the rest of those kids all had families of their own? Had ways of getting on without him, not actually his responsibility? None of them looked to him for shelter, for food, for the normal shit only parents gave their kids. No one looked at him like that anymore, until Sam had wandered up to him and asked if he could pull over at a Burger King on the way out.

It was the simplest thing, but he’d just come up and asked him and the whole thing felt like a punch in the face. He couldn’t be that anymore. He didn’t have it in him. He couldn’t take care of something. He couldn’t help. Maybe he should of just let them take the chance and—

“Burger King.” Sam mumbles into his palm, other hand pointing to the side of the road where the faint red and yellow lights lit up the burger place. Frank says nothing, hasn’t for about 4 hours now, just indicates off the road and pulls into the first parking spot.

It’s getting dark now, but the twenty four hour sign is faintly flashing over head. Sam’s already halfway out the car when Frank finishes running over all the risks of pulling the car over here and now, but the kids been through enough, and Frank doesn’t have the heart to say no. When he gets inside, Sam is standing at the door. Waiting for him.

“Go on.” Frank points at the counter, and Sam hesitates. He knows he must be starving, but he still just stands at the door, looking between the counter and Frank.

“I don’t know what to do.” He says in the smallest voice, and the way he looks at him, to him— “I’ve never been inside one before.”

“T’s alright. Go sit down, I’ll get you something. What do you like?” Frank bends a little so the kid could hear him. He wasn’t short, but Frank didn’t want to talk loud and embarrass him. He doesn’t really know why he cares.

“Lots of pickles. And mustard.” He smiles, and then goes and sits down in one of the booths. The fact Frank got through the interaction without fucking it up spurs him on a little, and he orders a burger with as many pickles as they can stack on it.

When he brings it over to him, Sam is staring out at the sky, head bouncing back and forth like he’s watching a tennis match, following the cars passing by. Then he must smell the food, because he all but jumps the table, grabbing the burger Frank slid over and taking the biggest bite out of it he can fit in his mouth.

“Slow down. You’ll choke.” Frank says, and something in his stomach twists at the words. So familiar— he remembers it was you he said them to at that diner he always went to back in the day.

“Sorry.” Sam muffled through the chips he’s shoving down his throat now, and Frank can’t help but laugh a little at the sight. As much as it pulls at him that this kid is probably eating so fast cause he’s not used to being fed regularly, he’s just glad he’s out. It comes at a cost, though, and thinking about you, Frank isn’t sure there’s any price he’d be willing to pay not to have you here.

They eat in silence, mainly because Sam doesn’t take a breath in between gulps of a giant soda and heaps of burger and fries, but really it’s because Frank can’t look at him. Doesn’t know what to say to him. It doesn’t seem to bother Sam though, who, like you, even with all the shit he must have seen and been through, is as resilient as ever.

“So, what’s the plan?” He asks after a giant mouthful of soda.

“What?” Frank croaks, voice strained from silence.

“The plan? To get Bobby?” Frank scoffs at this, but then realises the kid is serious.

“The plan is to keep you out of trouble.”

“That’s bullshit.” Sam crosses his legs and faces Frank fully. “You have to help me go back. And to get her.”

“I’m handlin’ it, alright? Eat your burger.” Sam’s eyebrows furrow, and he looks younger when he does it; tilting his head and scowling.

“I know you want to. I saw you…” Frank sighs, thinking about going back up and getting the kid another burger so he shuts up. “I saw you kiss her.”

“Jesus Christ.” Frank shakes his head and looks out the window again.

“You did.” He says it with his face screwed up, a little bit of childish disgust, but mostly determination. “You’re going back for her. I want to help.”

“You let me worry about that.” Sam copies him, shaking his head and looking out the window. If it wasn’t such bad lighting in here, Frank might have sworn he saw a tear in the kids eye, but it was swiped away too fast. The guilt eats at him a little. “Look, the reason she did all this shi— stuff, in the first place, is to get you out and make sure you were safe. The last thing I’m doing is dragging you back there. I’ll handle it.”

“I just want to help her like she helped me.” His voice was small again, and Frank swallows the feeling of guilt that bubbles up his throat. “She… she did a lot of bad things, didn’t she? To get me out?”

“Nothin’ they didn’t force her to.” Frank looks at the table, eyes finding anywhere else to concentrate on.

“Is she in trouble?” Clearing his throat, Frank thinks about how they shoved you in that car in handcuffs. He trusted Madani, but also knew her loyalty didn’t lie with him. “Cause of the things she did?”

“She’ll be fine.” He doesn’t say anything else. He just has to trust that what he’s done is enough. They both walk back out to the car in silence, and this time, Sam gets in the front seat. Shuffling around with whatever trash was on the floor, he bends down and picks something up, and Frank doesn’t see it right away until he puts them on.

Even though it’s pitch dark outside, Sam slides those stupid sunglasses you made him buy months ago onto his face, and drifts off to sleep in the same spot you had a million times over. Frank nearly splits the skin on his knuckles holding onto the steering wheel, pulling off the highway and heading toward you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I thought there’d be more questioning, less pacing.” You say to Agent Madani, and she looks at the door for the hundredth time, like she’s waiting for something. “Is something wrong here?”

“Beside the fact I have a known fugitive stowed away in one of the most secure facilities in the world? Nothing at all.” She was stressed. Pacing around the table, and looking at the door like she’s expecting someone to walk through it.

“You could just let me go.” She sighs. The last thing she should want right now is company, so what was she waiting for? She needed you to save her ass, be the missing link to why she had all this information. Why she showed up at Silo, how she knew about today, how she found the house you were at. All of it needed to be connected, and you were the missing link, and yet ever since she marched you through the back door of this building, she hadn’t asked you a single question.

“Never on time.” She sighs under her breath.

“What?” Madani stops pacing.

“We have to wait.” She says, leaning back.

“Wait for what?”

“Just…” She marches toward the door. “Stay here. I need to make another phone call. If anyone knocks—“

“Kill them?” You hear her sigh again before the door clicks shut. Looking around the room, the long table stretches before you. No other chairs on your side, but opposite you, there’s three.

A little part of you sparks to life, the part infused with Franks backward lessons of looking at every room you walked into like it would be the last one you saw. You could feel your face pulling with concentration, trying to take as much in as you could in the seemingly plain room. Frank never so much as flinched, didn’t even blink or think twice and still managed to be ten steps ahead of everyone in the room. But Frank wasn’t here, and you knew for a fact those chairs weren’t going to be for him.

Three chairs. Why would Madani set this room up with three chairs? You were on a wanted list, she couldn’t exactly plan a public meeting with you and anyone else, let alone sit across from you while the entire CIA sat outside waiting on orders to kill you. She’s waiting for someone. Two someone’s. Security?

The click of heels outside the door snap you to focus. Two sets of heels— not security, unless the CIA is hiring. There’s another sound, one that you can’t exactly place. You close your eyes, trying to tap into whatever enhancement is running through your veins, but then the door swings open and locks again faster than you can put together, like the people who were now inside were shoved in.

Eyes wide open, it takes a second for your body to come out of defence mode. Madani is in front of you, and there’s two more people now, the first you know well, and the other familiar.

“Karen?” Your eyes squint, like you’re not sure what you are seeing is real. It’s been a long fucking day… why the hell would she be here of all places? “And… you. I met you.”

“Under worse circumstances.” The man says, his cane tapping around the room while Karen walks behind him, offering you a sympathetic smile. “Matthew Murdock.”

“Nice to meet you?” Your voice is a little higher pitched than normal, only because you were fucking confused. Frank had said something about this guy before… “I think I’m out of the loop here. I had the impression you were going to… arrest me.”

“I never wanted that.” Madani says.

“Well the handcuffs your officers put me in seemed to say otherwise.” She sits down on the left, Matthew in the middle and Karen on the right. “What is this supposed to be.”

“You have a lot of powerful friends.” He says, and you scoff. “Agent Madani called me a few weeks back. She thinks I can help you and your brother. If you’re willing to work with me.”

“And work with you would involve…” Your chest tightens, and he reacts as if he can see how you’ve frozen up, shaking his head.

“Not like that. I’m a lawyer. I want to clear your name.” There’s a moment of silence, and then you stifle out a laugh.

“A lawyer?” You look to Madani. “Could you not have told me that’s what we were doing here?”

“There’s about 400 people in this building that want you dead. The rest of them want to throw you and your brother in a hole for the rest of your life. If I had even suggested bringing you in for a fair trial, it would of set off yet another group of angry men vying to tear you apart. And anyone around you.” Sitting back in your chair, you let out a long breath. “Frank suggested it.”

“Really?” She nods in a way that suggests he hadn’t just asked, he’d forced her hand.

“You have a right to be represented. Even if they wanted to trial you for the death penalty—“ You swallow the tiny amount of fear that shoots up your throat “—which they won’t, they need to do it properly. Your brother hasn’t done anything wrong. They can’t touch him without going against basically every human rights law they protect. Even going after you, with the story you have…”

“Yeah. I get it.” You look up and blink a few times, and Matthew nods, leaning into Karen as a silent suggestion to take over.

“Matt can help you. I’ve seen him do it. He helped Frank… me, too.”

“You?”

“Once.” Your eyebrows raise, and you nod. Maybe impressed isn’t the right word for it, but you think you’ve miscalculated the kind of person she is, and it only makes you like her more. “You aren’t a bad person. If you can get in front of a jury, tell them about your brother… about your family.”

“You helped the CIA’s investigation, and we can use that to reduce whatever sentence they want to stick you with.” Matt continues, putting a bag on the desk.

“Unofficially.” Madani reminds him, and he smiles.

“Not anymore.”

“You can make sure they don’t touch my brother?” You lean over the table a little, and both Matt and Karen turn back to you.

“I know I can.” That is enough for you, so you’re surprised when he keeps talking. “He’ll be safe, but I think I can make it easier for you, too. You can have a life after all this. The one you should of had from the beginning.”

There was a time where you thought you knew exactly what your life would be. You thought you’d die doing something you hated, trying to kill someone for Bobby or whoever came after him. There wasn’t a life you pictured, and even when you’d dared to hope, the only one you could think of was spending the rest of it scared as shit someone would come after you or Sam. A life looking over your shoulder.

There was so many things that were different now, the past six months had changed everything. You’d seen your brother now, spoken to him. Now, you were being offered more— a life, maybe something more than a few short paranoid years. Your throat felt tight and you tried to look anywhere you couldn’t see your own reflection.

When he’d said you could have a life, you looked away from yourself instantly, because the first thing you’d thought of— as selfish as it was, was the life you could have with Frank. One full of nights like the few you had shared. Even paranoid and running, a life of that would be worth all this if it was with him.

Karen called your name, and slid over a piece of paper you made no sense of.

“I don’t… have any money.” Embarrassing as it is, you know people like this cost big, and you don’t think you’ve ever had more than $20 to your name.

“If I was in this job for the money, I’d be in the wrong business.” He smiles, handing you a pen. “Don’t worry about it. This is just a paper that says you’re willing to be represented by me.” You sign the paper, writing the letters of your name slowly and in print.

“Okay. Now what?” Sliding the paper back over to him, he turns to Madani.

“You were expecting questions?” She says, and pulls out a laptop along with about twelve case files that all have the word UNSOLVED printed in red ink. “You can start here.”

She hands you one file, and when you open it, the date reads about seven years from today. If you thought today was a long day, it was about to get a whole lot longer. She starts asking questions about where you were, what you did that day, and you answer as best you can, but all you can really think about is is that little ember of hope resting deep in your stomach, and how it slowly catches fire with each passing minute.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Don’t answer that.” Matt says from beside you now, and Madani sighs. “What?”

“Again? Seriously?” She says, and he keeps his head up, listening as his hands run along the braille of the files Karen has converted. They have been going at this for hours while Madani asked you every question under the sun. “I’m asking if she killed him. It’s a yes or no answer.”

“She was coerced, and by that timeline she would have been 16 years old. You’re going to charge a 16 year old who was being held captive and threatened with her only family members life with murder?” He never stops reading through the file, and once he hears Madani take yours front in front of you, he slides it away and grabs the next one.

“Let’s do something more recent then, shall we?” She slides another file to you, and you recognise it instantly. So does Karen. “Gus Daley. Murdered behind 3rd Street just three months ago. About the time you were working with the Colonel.”

“For him. Working for him. And lets not mix our words. The man’s name was Connor Flannery, and he was not a Colonel.” You can’t help but smile a little bit at how fast he was with this. You liked Madani, but you knew her loyalty couldn’t lie with you, so it was nice to have someone on your side out here.

“Fine. This was when Connor Flannery was forcing you to work for him?” When you hear no objections from Matt, you nod. 

“Yes.” The little camera she had set up blinks in recognition, and the only other sound is Karen shoving papers along the table. 

“What happened?” The last time you saw this man was in a service station, his lifeless corpse on the front page of a newspaper Frank was looking at. You remember you had expected him to look at you with disgust, and how he hadn’t even flinched.

“He wanted him dead, and gave me a date and a time. It was very structured with him. He planned the whole thing. Where to go, when, how he wanted it done.” Madani nods, listening intently. 

“How many jobs did he send you on?”

“Eight or nine, I think.”

“You think?”

“She clearly wasn’t in a right state of mind. She didn’t even know the man’s name before I told her. Flannery and Bobby Gnucci did everything except get their hands dirty.” Matt says.

“And when you found out that they were working together? What did you do then?” An image of The Colonels body in the woods is shoved in front of you— Karen’s article that bought you the precious seconds of time to get to your brother.

“I bolted as soon as I got the chance.” Okay, not entirely true. It took some convincing on Franks part to get you to leave, and when you found out you killed him. But you can’t imagine that’s going to look great for you right now, so you leave it at that.

“The article says what happened to him. I wrote it myself.” Karen says, and Madani turns her attention off you for the first time in hours.

“Thanks to a photo from an anonymous source, correct? I know it wasn’t anyone in this room that sent that photo, and I’m inclined to think Frank Castle had something to do with it.” At the mention of him, your chest tightens again. “You two were close. I can’t imagine you’d question him too much if he came to you and told you what happened. Even if you didn’t think it was true. Maybe even write an article— just because he asked. You’d do just about anything for him, wouldn’t you?”

It’s like you are interrupting something. Everyone here knows each other better than you do— you know a little about what they’ve all been through together, but if Agent Madani knows enough about Karen and Frank…

“I write the truth. Always.” Karen’s also a better liar than you pegged her for.

“How is any of this relevant, Agent?” Matt chimes in, and you don’t have to look back to hear the smirk in his voice. “You’ve got what you wanted now, right? She’s told you everything she knows— more than enough to convince a jury she was working with you well before she got her brother back. If this has to go to trial—“

“If?”

“I’m a reasonable man. We can make a deal, or we can drag this through court. I don’t know how well your new colleges will react to you working behind their back, though. I don’t want to risk you being invited to Friday night drinks, right?” Matt stands.

“What are you suggesting?” Madani says, and Matt smiles.

“I’ll let you know after I’ve discussed with my client. For now, I think there’s a kid who’d like to see his sister.” Karen opens the door, and when Matt walks through it you realise you’re still frozen in your seat.

“Go.” Agent Madani says, blowing out a frustrated breath. You stand, but instead of walking out the door you turn to face her.

“I want to say thank you.” Your voice is quiet— tired as hell. There’s still blood on your fingernails when you stick out your hand to shake hers. “For everything you did for my brother. And me. You didn’t have to do all of this, and I know how much you’re risking. I owe you.”

“No, you don’t.” She takes your hand, shaking it once. “I spent a long time doing the wrong thing for the wrong people. I like being the good guy for once.” For some reason that makes you smile. You— the good thing?

“Still. I owe you.” She reaches into her bag after you finish and hands you something.

“Now we’re even.” Before you can look at what she gave you, she’s walking out the door, brushing past Matt. “Don’t call me unless you have a good deal.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” She scoffs and disappears into the now dark hallway, and it must be the middle of the night now because all the lights are off and the window of the room you’re in is pitch black. “You ready?”

Nodding, you follow them out, finally looking down at what Madani gave you.

A small black square— exactly like the burner phone Frank has, and when you turn it on, there’s only one number on it. You don’t even blink before you hit call.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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[depressedbagpipe]

"Blackbird to Robin, do you copy?" (Billy Russo x ofc)

Chapter six

Words: 5151 Warnings: mentions of the previous attack (check the last chapter for reference), mentions of PTSD, death, guns, explosions (and the aftermath i guess). poor grammar choices. change of pov, foul language, dana wants some soup. A/N: yeah, it's been a long time coming. i accidentally fell into a burning ring of fire depressive episode ft a massive writer's block but thank you for your patience and love. had to add some billy into it, too. hope you guys like it (mind you i haven't written anything in like two months so sorry for the poor grammar choices) Taglist: @badasseddy, @noortsshift, @britishbassett

Series Masterlist Previous chapter

Chapter six

I felt the thick thud of my skull before I could even register I was in pain. My skin felt warm and sticky, and although my entire head was throbbing, it especially felt like a needle was constantly poking my temple. Even with closed eyes, the ache seemed to grow every second. My entire body hurt, too, and I heavily debated whether I wanted to open my eyes, too afraid of what would wait for me on the other side. 

Muffled voices and footsteps screamed from the other side of the door, the sound too distant and distorted to fully comprehend what they said, and for an instant, I panicked.

And then, like a slap across the face, a flash of black flooded my vision, and Billy’s eyes were suddenly all I could see. The throbbing in my head grew stronger and unforgiving, and dizziness overcame me. Memory was coming back in flames, and each was more painful than the last. 

Billy. The attack. Billy’s apartment. The café. Billy’s car. My apartment. Billy’s black suits. The MET. Owen. Billy. 

Billy.

The name tasted weird on my tongue. There was bitterness in it, and fear, but also comfort and power. The mix was strangely addictive, and it weirded me out even more after realizing he was the first thing on my mind after having just woken up. 

I groaned, and although the sound was distant in my ears, mixed with the slight ringing that filled the silence around me, it was apparently loud enough for the door to burst open wide. I winced at the sudden noise, but the surprise was quickly replaced by relief when the man himself crouched next to me, unannounced. My eyes were still closed, but his scent was unmistakable. The warmth that followed, although unmistakable as well, was surprising.

‘Good night, Dana,’ he whispered. His voice was uncommonly soft, and the usual sharp edge he wore like a suit was gone. I wondered if, for a second, I had imagined it, because it seemed so foreign to him. But I couldn’t deny that I liked it.  

I believed he would have shouted, screamed, yelled at me and my irresponsibility. I thought he would just give me an earful, repeating the same speech like a mantra about safety and trusting strangers. How mad he would have looked, with his eyes sending daggers into my heart and venomous words into my brain. He would’ve repeated over and over how he had been right, and how I had been wrong, and how stupid and reckless I had been and almost had gotten myself killed because of it. 

But when I opened my eyes, I found none of that. Gone was his anger and fury. Instead, I was met with a rather compassionate face, with deep lines of worry around his eyes, and his usually-tamed hair falling flat on his head, with strands gracelessly tousled and unkempt. 

My fingers twitched slightly as if wanting to reach and fix it for him on their own. But either it hurt too much to move or I was too much a coward to do anything. So, instead, I just lay there, with eyes half-closed, a killing headache, and a nervous heart. 

‘Hi.’ My throat was hoarse and it hurt to speak. My voice sounded weak, and I fought the urge to grimace at that. I knew I was weak, and yet, I hated that. Especially in front of him.

‘You gave me –us, quite a scare the other day,’ he coughed lowly, his eyes moving across my face. His pupils seemed to mix with the irises entirely, and the darkness around us created two pools of somber black that were now analyzing every single aspect of my face. I had never felt so naked, yet so alive.

His little slip-up didn’t go unnoticed, but I was too tired to even press him on it. All I could do at the time was frown, and even the movement sent another hard thud to my head. To my dismay, Billy noticed that, and brought his warm palm against my forehead and softly rested it on the skin, careful and caring. Two things I never thought Billy Russo could be.

‘The other day?’ I asked finally after registering his words.

‘At the park.’

I sat there, looking at him. For a second I thought this illusion of Billy would fade, and the anger would come back, but it didn’t. I waited, staring at him, trying not to dwell too much on the way his hand felt on me, and kept waiting, but he didn’t move. It was only then that I spoke for him.

‘The attack.’

He nodded gravely, and I could have sworn a small sigh escaped his lips. ‘Yeah. The attack.’

I frowned again. ‘The other day?’

He took his hand off, and the sudden coolness of the air made me miss his contact, even though it felt refreshing. His existence was a complete contradiction in my head.

‘Yeah,’ yet he didn’t look me in the eye this time. His hands suddenly occupied themselves by pouring water into an empty glass on the bedside table. Recognizing the round shape of the object, I finally realized I was in my bed, back at my apartment, safe and sound.

He carefully brought it to my lips and tilted my head forward, helping me. His hand cradled the back of my head, and with one touch I was hooked. If he felt any affected by it, he didn’t show it. I almost wished he did.

The cold water soothed my aching throat, if only a little, and even though I was still tired, I couldn’t help but ask.

‘How long have I been out?’

‘Three days.’

‘What?’ the shock moved my body upwards involuntarily, but pain flashed in my eyes and my back collided with the mattress rather harshly. 

Billy helped me down again, adjusting my bed covers over me as he rechecked my head.

‘You’re fine, Dana. Just… go to sleep, alright? We’ll talk when you recover,’ he said, standing up again.

‘I thought you said I was fine,’ I couldn’t help myself. He didn’t answer, but instead rolled his eyes. He started walking away toward the door, and suddenly, the prospect of staying alone became unbearable.

‘Wait,’ I called him.

Billy was already walking out when he stopped.

‘What do you need?’

It was so casual, the way he said it. So domestic. So natural. It was scary to think that, behind all that hair gel and money, there was a man. A person. A person I now needed beside me, if only to sleep. I knew that as soon as I closed my eyes, nightmares would plague my dreams. They had been haunting me ever since I closed my eyes three days ago, but my brain refused to wake up. Now I knew they were memories. And I was desperate to make them stop.

‘Could you… stay with me? At least, until I fall asleep?’

He seemed shocked at the question, and before he could refuse, I spoke again.

‘I don’t want to be alone right now, please.’

I winced again, both at the pain and at my own embarrassment. My voice felt as weak as the rest of my body, but I hated being powerless even more in front of Billy. I didn’t know what opinion he had of me, and I didn’t know if I’d ever know, but for some reason, I didn’t want him to think of me as weak. I hadn’t known him for long, but at that moment, in that state, I just wanted, needed, a break. I needed Billy to look at me and not see the desperate and frightened girl I felt at the moment. For once, I wanted to be strong, and I had just blown that away by asking him to stay with me. 

But, thank God, Billy sighed and closed the door, leaving the two of us in the dark. His movements were measured and precise as he walked toward me and to the side of my bed, taking off his shoes and placing them by the foot of the table. He didn’t look at me and I didn’t look at him as I scooted over to make room for him. Even though the space wasn’t that big, once he lay down, we both managed to fit next to one another without touching. I almost wish we did. 

The silence was deafening. I tried to control my breathing and not move too much, knowing the second I did I’d brush Billy’s arm. My blinds had been rolled down and very little light was coming from the outside, and the thought of not being able to see Billy, despite feeling his warmth next to me, was somewhat bizarre. A battle was raging on my insides, and unfortunately, the pain in my head was the deus ex machina saving the day. Everything still hurt too much: my head, my back, my pride. And yet, Billy made no noise beside me. I wondered whether he had fallen asleep, for it sure felt like hours.

‘Billy?’

Silence.

‘Yeah?’ he finally answered.

His voice was smooth, and I instantly knew he hadn’t been asleep either. This was as awkward for him as it was for me, but he still made the effort. I appreciated that.

‘Why didn’t you take me to the hospital?’

It was probably the stupidest thing to ask, but I felt the urge to keep him talking. At least his voice was something familiar. At least his voice was anchoring me to reality, instead of letting my mind wander and losing itself again.

‘It would’ve been dangerous.’

‘What if I had died?’

‘You’re not dying on me, Dana Jones.’

‘How can you be so sure of it, Billy Russo?’

‘Because they’d have to get through me first. I’m not planning on dying any time soon.’

His words weren’t romantic by any means. They were harsh around the edges, full of implications, just like him. But I liked the way he said them. And I could always blame the raging headache for such nonsense in the morning.

I scooted an inch closer, still without making contact. I rolled on my side, facing him, even though I couldn’t see him. I even heard his faint breaths, a bit rushed and erratic. What was he nervous about?

‘Thank you.’

He took a few seconds to answer again.

‘Don’t mention it.’

‘And thank you for saving my life.’

‘Go to sleep, Dana, you need it.’

‘Alright.’

Silence. It really was awkward, to say the least. Both of us were awake, sharing a bed, and yet, no one talked. It felt like hours, although they definitely were a few minutes. My breathing slowed, and my eyes kept drooping despite my intent of having them open. I couldn’t tell whether Billy was awake or not. And just when I thought he had fallen asleep, he spoke. 

‘Goodnight, Dana.’

My lips twitched slightly, and I answered.

‘Goodnight, Billy.’

…

Waking up with a killer headache wasn’t anything new to me. Many times before I had woken up with the remainder of a hungover, with mismatched pajamas and sweaty sheets. Other times, it was a flu, or a migraine, or a simple cold. I wasn’t a sleepwalker by any means, but every night brought an adventure with it. I never knew when, where, or how I’d wake up.

That day I woke up hot, cold, and alone. Again, not my first rodeo. But after realizing the events of the previous night, I couldn’t help the wave of disappointment that flooded my senses. The other side of the bed felt oddly empty, and Billy’s scent still lingered on the pillow. It was the only clue I had that whatever had happened was real. My head still hurt, and my stomach was grumbling like crazy, and despite not having enough strength to leave my bed, I did so with a groan. 

The floor was cold under my feet, even though I was wearing pink fluffy socks that definitely did not belong to me at all. I looked around my room with a frown, but everything seemed in place. Taking a quick look at the mirror next to the door, I noticed I was wearing a new set of pink pajamas, matching the socks, as well as a clean bandage across my head and arms. It was quite a spectacle, really, but my hunger got the best of me and with a final sigh, I opened the door and walked out, knowing with every single step that life was about to get a thousand times more dangerous.

Surprisingly, I found Karen sitting by the kitchen, with a mug in her hand and bags under her eyes. Her face lit up as soon as she saw me walk in.

‘Oh, Dana, thank God you’re awake!’ she almost dropped the mug on the counter and stood in front of me. 

With tentative arms, she hugged me, and the warmth that came with it had me closing my eyes in enjoyment. It had been too long since somebody had even embraced me like that.

‘Hi,’ I said rather shy. 

We were the only ones in my apartment, and I felt grateful for that. I didn’t know what I would have said had Billy been there. 

‘How are you feeling?’ her voice was low and soft, a total contrast to Billy’s. She showed genuine care, and maybe it was the concern in her eyes or the worry in her words, but all of a sudden, tears filled my eyes and fell on their own accord.

Karen quickly hugged me even harder, rubbing my back comfortingly as I sobbed into her shoulder.

I didn’t even know what I was crying about. The attack, the shock, the way my life had crumbled in a matter of seconds since Billy showed up at the stairs of my school. The tension, the pain, the fear, all of it was now going down the drain as I let it catch up to me. I lost complete track of time; I just allowed myself to stand there and break down, and Karen’s soothing presence only encouraged me further. God knew how long had it been since I had a good cry, and now it felt like the dam had broken and all the pent-up emotion was exploding in every direction, leaving me more and more empty the longer it went. 

But it felt good. I rarely allowed myself to be vulnerable, much less in front of other people. And part of me knew that the downfall was inevitable, so I was glad I was home at least. I certainly wished the situation was different, but my sanity appreciated it nonetheless.

Only after my eyes ran out of tears I dared look up. Karen’s eyes were equally reddish but cupped my face into her hands and looked me in the eye.

‘Are you feeling better?’ she asked.

‘Yeah.’

She smiled. ‘Great.’ She led me to the couch and sat me down, checking my bandages. ‘How’s your head? Does it hurt?’

I shook my head, even though it hurt after crying so much. ‘I’ll be fine. I could use a shower, though. And food.’

She smiled. ‘That’s good. Go take a shower and I’ll make you some soup. Can you stand on your own?’

I nodded. ‘I’m just tired.’

‘Understandable. Go, I’ll be here when you get out. And, Dana,’ she stopped me as soon as I turned around to leave. ‘I’m glad you’re okay.’

I smiled, genuinely. ‘Thank you. For everything.’

She smirked and nodded at me, and I left.

I didn’t want to make the situation any more awkward, and that’s why as soon as Karen resumed to her own devices, I sprinted to the bathroom, quickly hiding there and locking the door behind me. Against better judgment, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, and couldn’t help but to grimace at the view. Not only was my hair sticking up in weird shapes and places, but I still had heavy dark circles under my eyes, my lips were chapped and dry, and the skin looked like it needed some more melanin to be deemed healthy. Shaking my head I got in the shower and didn’t leave until my fingers were pruney and begging to be dry once more. 

I rinsed my skin once, twice, until it burned. Every time I closed my eyes, memories haunted me. Flashes of red and orange danced before my eyes, followed by deafening noise and terrified yells. New York attacks were nothing new, and I had seen my fair share of violence and injustice before. But this time, I had been caught in the crossfire. It had been entirely my fault, for ignoring Billy’s orders despite promising otherwise. I knew I had always had a target on my back, but, for the first time, it felt real. As selfish as it sounds, I had been directly affected by the chaos that usually ran rampant but silent in the city. And that only angered me. Because today I had been the victim, and I had survived, but deep in my gut I knew innocent people hadn’t. And that it hadn’t been the first time, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.

At some point during my little stream of consciousness, I heard the front door open. I didn’t need to listen further to know it was Billy. I could recognize his footsteps from a mile away. 

With a deep breath I finally got out of the shower and dressed, and, with tentative steps, I exited the bathroom. The warm water had slightly relaxed my tense muscles, and I truly felt better after laying in bed for so long, but mentally I wasn’t ready to face Billy. I wasn’t scared of him, but I didn’t want to have a reason to. 

What I wasn’t expecting was to find Billy, Frank, and Karen talking in hushed voices, with Karen close to Billy’s face and an angry frown on her face. 

‘Don’t stop on my account,’ I said, reading the room. The tension could be cut with a knife, but I was still too tired and hungry to care.

Their heads twisted in my direction, and their sudden attention had me almost trembling in my place.

Frank stood there with virtually no expression on his face, as he usually did. Karen looked relieved, although something close to resentment emanated from her eyes. And then there was Billy.

It was the first time I had truly seen him since before the attack, and, to my surprise, didn’t look any better than I did. His hair, although freshly washed, wasn’t combed in the meticulous way he usually wore it. His clothes, too, were clean, yet he hadn’t bothered to properly tuck his shirt into his pants, and the laces of his shoes were undone. His expensive blazer lay forgotten by the entrance. And his eyes… they were tired. The creases around them were more prominent, and for the first time, he looked older. I knew he was older than me, but with his cocky attitude and his perfectly-kept appearance, I always forgot. Now, he looked his age, somewhere in his thirties, and it felt like a ton of bricks just hit me in the face at the realization. 

When our eyes met, I shied away. I still felt embarrassed about the night before, and I doubted he’d go easy on me after I could stand on my own. I really didn’t want him to be right about Owen, and I didn’t want him to remember me laying frail and cold in my bed. I had the strong urge to disappear, but it was time for me to face the consequences, wherever those led. 

‘Hey.’

‘Hi,’ Billy answered. His voice left a tingling sensation in the back of my neck.

‘Are you okay, kid?’ Frank suddenly spoke. His voice, too, was smooth, contrasting greatly with his appearance. He was dressed in his usual dark attire, yet his bulletproof vest and the grip of a gun on his waist were new additions. 

I nodded carefully, not even assessing his question. I was in no way okay, but I still had my guard up around them. I wanted to be okay. I was tired of not being fine.

‘Alright, you need to eat,’ Karen interrupted the moment bringing her hands together and led me to the kitchen, where a steaming bowl of soup was waiting for me at the small table. She slid two pills together with a glass of water as I sat down. ‘For the pain. Eat, and we’ll talk later.’

She gently patted my forehead, probably searching for a fever, but her hands were soft and I appreciated it nonetheless. It had been so long since anybody had taken care of me, that I didn’t mind it was a woman I had only seen a couple of times. I still didn’t face Billy, although I could feel his burning gaze on me, but thankfully Karen caught his attention and resumed their previous conversation, as I did my best to swallow and ignore the details they spilled on the other side of the room. 

My eyes closed for a few seconds as I took a big breath, hoping to find enough strength to face whatever was to come as soon as I was done eating. I looked at the clock on the wall by the entrance, and it surprised me to see it was noon. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to find, but I welcomed the time. I still had at least half a day to get my shit together, instead of wasting another one drowning in my own misery. But that’d come later. I just wanted to eat the damn soup.

…

I wished the soup would have been endless, because now I was sitting on the couch, with the other three adults looking down at me with varying expressions and hidden emotions. It was silent for a while until Billy spoke.

‘Tell us all you remember,’ he said. Gone was the softness, and his tone reminded me of the same one he had used when we first met, back in the interrogation room at Anvil’s headquarters.

‘Well… I was with Owen…’ I stopped and cringed. I wasn’t looking at him, but Billy suddenly stood straighter when I mentioned his name. ‘And he insisted on getting an ice cream after the museum. So we were at Central Park, and… that’s when everything went to shit, I guess.’

Frank’s face was unreadable, and Karen softly nodded. ‘Alright, no brain damage. That’s good,’ she sounded quite relieved.

‘What did you last see before…’ Billy paused for a second as if it physically pained him to talk. I found it hard to believe that he actually cared about me, but I had seen weirder. ‘Before everything went to shit?’

I took a few seconds as well. ‘I mean… Everything’s kinda blurry. Not like there’s anything wrong with me, it’s just… I mean I was terrified. And things were happening so fast and… I don’t know,’ I tripped over my words.

To my surprise, Frank nodded. ‘We get it. We’ve dealt with these situations way too many times to count,’ he looked at Billy, who shared the same expression. ‘Listen, kid, things are not going to get easier from now on. PTSD is no joke, and if you ever need to talk, we know some good people that can help. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about,’ he even cracked a smile. 

It was reassuring to say the least, that these hunks of men struggled just as much, if not more, as I did. But those flashes were all I could see at the time, and it terrified me to think they’d stick with me forever. 

‘I really don’t wanna talk about it right now,’ I said, hoping to just stop their conversation. ‘I mean, I appreciate it, don’t get me wrong. But… I just want to deal with all this when I’m ready. I’m still not sure about why things are the way they are so yeah, I guess I just need time.’ 

The three of them nodded at me. I could tell there were still a thousand things they wanted to say.

‘I do, however, have questions. I don’t wanna deal with my feelings until I know who’s making me feel like this,’ I said, with a lot more confidence than I had. ‘So what actually happened? How did you find me?’

Billy’s POV – Three days earlier

‘Shit.’ 

That was the last thing I heard from the earpiece before the explosion went off. People were running and screaming all around me, making their way out of the park, as far away as they could. My legs moved involuntarily to the source of the noise, despite better judgment. Dana was there, and that’s all I cared about.

‘Robin?’ I asked, but the static on the other side answered for me.

I picked up my pace, running as fast as I could. From the periphery of my eye, I caught many police cars, as well as my own company’s vans, trespassing into the park, followed by ambulances and paramedics. It didn’t take me long to reach the Great Lawn, my breath stuck in my throat at the sight. It had been almost destroyed, the entire green field. Burnt corpses lay around, their bodies completely unrecognizable. FBI agents were already running after the surviving men, getting lost in the immensity of the park and the echoes of their gunshots.

I looked around in a panic, trying to find Dana. Many trees were burning around me, some of them on the ground after the blast.

‘Dana!’ I yelled, raising my voice over the many sirens that blared around.

I ran along the nearest path, simply guessing Dana and Owen’s possible route from the museum. Maybe fate was on my side, after all, because only a few feet away I found Dana’s body, laying on the ground, dangerously close to a fallen and scorched tree.

I immediately kneeled beside her, pulling her up into my lap, looking over her only to find not a single scratch on her clothes. Only the side of her head was bleeding slightly and seemed to be unconscious because of it, but her heart was still beating strong and steady. Some branches had fallen on her arms as well, but nothing else seemed to be out of place.

I didn’t even have time to sigh in relief. I held her close, feeling the dread of losing her wash over me as I lifted her in my arms. 

‘Blackbird, it’s Raven,’ Frank suddenly spoke in my other ear. ‘You there?’

‘Yeah,’ I struggled a bit with Dana’s weight, taking her up in my arms and running across the park, avoiding both people and debris as I followed the direction of Anvil’s medical aid. 

‘Is she okay?’ Frank asked as I approached one of the medics by the small ambulance, dropping her carefully on the stretcher. He quickly looked over her, assessing the damage to her side, and quickly cleaning it and putting some bandage over it.

‘I hope so,’ I noticed my hands were trembling, but I couldn’t dwell too much on it. 

I only cared that Dana was alright. 

Time seemed to go too slowly. Distant gunshots and explosions still resounded behind my back, but I didn’t care anymore. The cops could handle that one. My only concern was the unconscious girl in front of me.

‘She’ll be okay,’ the medic finalized. ‘Just a hit to the head, nothing too serious. She’ll probably be out for a day or so, the shock could have gotten to her. If she doesn’t wake up by the third day, take her to the hospital, they’ll know what to do. She’ll struggle with headaches and sensory overload, most probably, and make sure she has two of these once a day, preferably with a full stomach. Sorry, Mr. Russo, I gotta help the others,’ the young medic said quickly, and after dropping the bottle of pills in my hand, he ran to the next victim.

I could only sigh in relief, quickly taking Dana back in my arms and walking towards my car, making my best to avert the inquiring press and curious bystanders who had reached the park. Dana’s head lolled to the side and into my chest, revealing the earpiece, still connected. I tried my best to ignore the weight of her head in my chest, and the warmth that came with it and spread through me as I finally spotted my car. There wasn’t anybody around, thankfully, and with some difficulty, I placed her in the backseat and drove to her apartment before the police closed the surrounding streets. 

Dissociating was my best chance, for I quickly reached her apartment complex, and after a quick scan of the area, I grabbed Dana and took her upstairs. It was my bad luck that had me coming face to face with Dana’s neighbor. 

‘Mrs. Bardot! What a pleasure!’ I greeted her with a whisper. 

She naturally seemed alarmed at the sight. An unconscious girl being carried by a man.

‘What have you done to her?’ she took big strides to where I stood.

I shook my head reassuringly. ‘Fret no, Mrs. Bardot, she’s asleep. We accidentally had too much to drink earlier on and she’s a bit of a lightweight,’ I lied. 

Mrs. Bardot looked unconvinced, and I knew what I had to do. ‘My little sleeping beauty,’ I added, pressing a kiss on her temple. It came out with a lot more emotion than I originally intended, but the weirdest part was that I didn’t feel like I was lying. Not this time.

Dana didn’t stir, and although that preoccupied me, I didn’t let Mrs. Bardot see that. She quickly smiled at the gesture and offered to help me open the door.

‘You two make such a lovely couple. Take care of her, Billy, she deserves it,’ she said as I walked into the apartment. She glared at me for a second before bidding me a good night, and closed the door, effectively leaving Dana and me back in the silence of her apartment. 

With a final sigh, I walked to Dana’s room and placed her on the bed. I even took a second to look at her, finding myself wishing the circumstances were different. I fought the strong impulse of tucking her hair behind her ear but reached her nevertheless to take the earpiece off.

My fingers still trembled slightly when I reached for my phone, quickly pressing the ‘call’ button.

‘Karen? I need your help.’

Next chapter

General Taglist: @angiewhoohooo, @azaleaniath, @mishaandthebrits, @celestialcharles, @idohknow

[maralisa124]

Hi people there was this Billy Russo story that I am searching for it was one that the girl was Rawlins daughter and she was disowned by him after her mothers death. She was also a marine and after deployment she became addicted to heroine. She was also Karen’s friend. If you tell me I would’ve been so grateful because I am going crazy…

[callmemana]

Marvel Fanfic :

Key: smut -🍓/fluff -🌼/ angst -🐂/ personal favorite - 👓/

Bruce Banner:

Can You Stay? @pottahishotasf 🍓🌼

Clint Barton:

Book:3 Sweeter Than Honey @toomanyrobins2 🍓🌼🐂👓

Come Back to Me Series @itsanerdlife 🌼🐂 (1/20)

Ex Games @itsanerdlife 🌼🐂 (1/20)

Hot Cocoa Kissing @clints-lucky-arrow 🌼🐂

Just For Tonight @clints-lucky-arrow 🌼🐂

Outlaws Promise Series @itsanerdlife 🌼🐂 (MC| 1/23)

Something Brewing Between Us @ghostofskywalker 🌼

Third Times The Charm @ghostofskywalker 🌼

Turn Off the Stove @clints-lucky-arrow 🍓🌼🐂

We All Fall Down Series @itsanerdlife 🌼🐂 (1/20)

Dr. Stephan Strange:

Dork @holylulusworld 🌼🐂

Strange Love @holylulusworld 🍓🌼🐂

Frank Castle:

Catch & Break @clints-lucky-arrow 🌼🐂

Coffee Laden-metaphor @rae-gar-targaryen 🌼🐂

I See Right Through You Series @forever-rogue 🌼🐂👓 (1/6)

Out Of The Question Series @itsanerdlife 🌼🐂 (MC|1/24)

Take It Slow @clints-lucky-arrow 🍓

Wet Metal @clints-lucky-arrow 🍓🐂

Natasha Romanov:

Black Umbrellas @neonovember 🌼🐂

Cooking Dinner For Her @ghostofskywalker 🌼👓

Fresh Kill Series @ghostofskywalker (mob au) 🌼🐂

Home Run Romance Series @ghostofskywalker 🌼🐂

Homecoming @ghostofskywalker 🌼👓

Meet The Avengers @ghostofskywalker 🌼🐂👓

You Take Care Of Her When Sick @ghostofskywalker 🌼

Thor:

A (Vi)king’s Love Series @holylulusworld 🍓🌼🐂(Vikings au)

Just A Dare @pottahishotasf 🍓🐂

The Fitness Pack 2 @holylulusworld 🌼🐂👓 (+sized!R)

The Hammer Series @holylulusworld 🍓🌼🐂 (MC)

Loki:

As The World Caves In @ghostofskywalker 🌼🐂

Dance The Night Away @ghostofskywalker 🌼🐂

Hangover Of A Lifetime @ghostofskywalker 🌼🐂

Sleepless Nights & Starry Eyes @ghostofskywalker 🌼🐂

[lightning-writes]

Master List

Hi, so I've mainly written for the Vampire Diaries, and I am now working on an MCU Bucky Barnes x OFC fic.

See under the cut!

MCU

good heart (faulty machine of a man) - in progress - bucky x ofc, post-endgame, pre-tfatws

Marvel (Netflix)

something (yeah, definitely something) - series - frank x amy from Punisher (2017), (one more part is left, but it kinda abandoned at this point)

Vampire Diaries

Angels and Demons - one shot - demon!bonnie x angel!damon au

Odd One Out - one shot - jealous!Elena, bamon S6 au

Roms-Coms - one shot - valentines day bamon au

drink with a serial killer - one shot - detective!bonnie x serial killer!damon au/ah

blood and bourbon (revamped) - multi-chapter - rockstar!damon x law student!bonnie au/ah, abandoned

blood and bourbon (old) - multi-chapter - rockstar!damon x law student! bonnie au/ah, abandoned (but longer than revamped)

one thing, every day - multi-chapter- damon x ofc, canon-divergent from S7, abandoned

Miscellaneous

not everything is bolts & wires - one shot - missing scene, don x judy from lost in space (2018)

BONUS:

I've written companion pieces for @darwinquark 's fics, so I'll add that here too:

For her fic those kinds of friends:

companion piece for chapter 7

For her fic six mornings after: (@sixmorningsafter)

a steroline wedding - one shot - sma steroline wedding

did she really love me - one shot - sma stefonnie moment

plus-one - one shot - sma bamon at a wedding

a belvafore drabble of sorts - one shot - sma quad babysit

a sma!kol x sma!damon headcanon

[divineecelestial]

Hey, I know I completely disappeared and didn’t update any of my series’, BUT would any of you guys be interested in reading an almost 30k Frank Castle f!reader fic? It was originally an OC fic, but if you guys would prefer a self-insert one, I can edit it.

Please let me know what you guys think! And yes, I will eventually upload another chapter of Instrument of War 😭

[buckyhoney]

𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i actually really like this idea and think its kinda cute. it's not rough and aggressive like i normally make frank? it's cute.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: frank castle x reader

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤/𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 & 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝! 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭/𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬!

𝟏𝟖+ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+, language, use of sex toys (vibrator), making out, unedited

The vibrations spread through your body and made it difficult to focus on anything else.

Your nails dug deeper into Frank's arm the harder he pushed the silicone toy against your overly sensitive clit. It was put on the highest setting and he had no intention of turning it off.

Frank's lips melted into yours while you moaned freely against his. He loved the way you sounded- the soft mewls or the loud groans, they were addicting. They sounded even better muffled against his lips.

"Uh huh, focus, baby." You had pulled away from his mouth a little too long.

The vibrator hit just the right spot to have your eyes rolling back and your breath hitch. Frank's voice is soft and gentle, while his hands are aggressive and rough. Your lips find his reluctantly. Frank nips at your bottom lip, redirecting your attention back to his.

"I know, I know, it feels so good doesn't it?" He mumbles and you can only whine in response.

"Just focus on me," The vibrations warmed your center, making your hips jerk against the toy.

The pleasure was building in the pit of your stomach. Frank knew you wouldn't last much longer, but he didn't care- he just needed to hear you.

The kiss was lazy and out of sync. Frank nudged your cheek with his nose and started kissing your jaw, letting you cum freely. It was intense and abrupt. You're bucking your hips wildly, while moans get stuck in your throat.

"Let it out, let me hear you-" Frank pecks your jaw and near your mouth. He couldn't get enough of you and his free hand was tugging at your waist.

Your high came crashing down and your body was overheating. Shoving the toy away from your pussy, Frank allowed it. Suddenly the room was silent as he held down the button and the vibrating stopped. All you could hear is your panting and tiny whimpers.

Frank pulls you into his lap, peppering kisses around your face. Your hand cupped your pussy, calming the overstimulation. Soon Frank's lips found yours again, but it was agonizingly slow- lips barely touching while his hands craddle your face.

"Always sound so fucking pretty,"

[itwasthereaminuteago]

The Punisher Masterlist

Series

Black eyed & Blue - Tumblr OC/female reader, in progress. E

Heart Stone - Tumblr Musketeers AU, in progress. M.

One Shots

Ammunition- Tumblr you and Frank visit Coney Island, Frank has a fear of heights. Fluff and mild smut shenanigans. M

Too Sweet - Tumblr you need to convince Frank that he's worthy of your love. G

Show & Tell - Tumblr Frank tells you he loves you. Extremely loving smut. E

Next Time - Tumblr enemies to fuck buddies? Frank warned you, but you just want to see if he snaps... Rooftop vigilante smut. E

Lessons in Karma - Tumblr ¦ Ao3 - After drunkenly breaking both your wrists, you discover much to your dismay that your rigid casts make it difficult to pleasure yourself… E.

In A Week - Tumblr ¦ Ao3 sad, angsty, reader is um... dead, Frank is not dealing well, implied sort-of suicide attempt/lack of care. A partner fic to Seeya. M

Probably Nothing - Tumblr ¦ Ao3 Frank helps takes your mind off your stressful day... E

Star-Crossed - Tumblr ¦ Ao3 Romeo & Juliet Gangster forbidden love AU. Fluff and smut, E.

Reminder - Tumblr x female reader, Frank won't let insecurities get the better of you. Fingering, brief sex. E.

Hell's Belle - Tumblr ¦ Ao3 gunslinger Frank x Saloon girl reader, Western AU, mentions of canon typical violence, smut, fluff. E.

If Found... Tumblr ¦ Ao3 Soft Dom!Frank x Sub!puppy reader. You want some attention, and you get it. Smut, pet names, aftercare. E.

Now I Know - Tumblr ¦ Ao3 kidnapping/rescue, violence, blood, bit of angst, smut, and fluff. E.

In Dreams - Tumblr ¦ Ao3 sleepy morning sex, loving fluff. E.

Returns and Reruns - Tumblr ¦ Ao3 Fratt, hookup, sort of established relationship, anal sex. E.

Rough Road - Tumblr ¦ Ao3 Frank/Female reader, snowed in challenge prompt, acquaintances of circumstance to lovers, E.

After The Beep - Tumblr ¦ Ao3 Frank Castle / F Reader, phonesex voicemail, guided masturbation, Frank misses you. E

Ding ding, Round Two - Tumblr ¦ Ao3 Frank Castle/ F Reader, softdom!Frank, Trainer/student, smut. E

Bleeding Heart - Tumblr ¦ Ao3 Frank Castle/female eader, period fic, period hangups, period pain/sex, Frank being soft and loving. E

Reception - Tumblr ¦ Ao3 Frank Castle/F Reader meetcute, a dog, dates, smut, fluff. E

Morning Kiss - Tumblr ¦ Ao3 Frank Castle/F Reader, reader is being a brat but Dom daddy Frank sorts you out. Filth. E

From Ashes - Tumblr ¦ Ao3 Frank Castle/f!Reader, unexpected pregnancy, angst, fluff. M

Ain't No Lullaby - Tumblr ¦ Ao3 Frank Castle/F Reader, angst, comfort, smut, light choking, lots of praise. E

Seeya - Tumblr ¦ Ao3 Frank Castle/gnReader. Fluff M

Drabbles

Dinner & Diatribes - Restaurant restroom jealousy and filth! E

Clouds - depression comfort fic. G.

Untitled breeding kink thing - smutty multiple orgasms implied, breeding kink, Frank being Frank.

Do Your Worst - angsty fluffy drabble, gender neutral reader. G.

Idiot - Frank x female reader. watching you work has Frank hot and bothered. Masturbation, penetrative sex. E

Untitled Pussy Eating - heheh, Frank comes home bloody and hungry... FOR YOU. E

Where Does It Hurt - Frank x gn reader, injury, blood, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort. M.

Thick - Fratt, Frank x Matt Murdock, thigh humping for Bernthirstpalooza challenge. E.

First time - Frank X female reader, first kiss, first time, hangups. M.

Car sex thots

With love - gn reader, if you knitted the big bad punisher a hat and gloves. G

Ricochet - short Frank/gn Reader angst/comfort/fluff. G.

Suck It - Frank Castle/gn! Reader, teasing drabble. M.