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bioticgoddess · 6 years

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Songbirds and Baby Bats (VI)

Series Summary: Jason Todd returns from the dead and, after the events of Under the Red Hood,he goes from Gotham to Bludhaven in search of himself…and an old friend. But getting your life back is never easy and Black Mask has enlisted the aid of Gotham’s other Crime Families as well as a few ghosts of Batman’s past. He’s coming for the Red Hood and everyone of his allies.

Photo property of CD828 Studios and the Red Hood Fan Series.

Part VI

The sun trickling in through the partially open curtains was an unwelcome wake up call. A grumble vibrated in his throat as he cracked his eyes open. Tucked in next to him, her head pillowed on his chest, Amy sighed in her sleep. When she snuggled up closer, he grinned. Okay, seeing her like that, the sun could be forgiving for needling him out of some much needed sleep. He closed his arm around her, thumb stroking a trail the length of her lower back. She was soft and warm and there. Something he hadn’t really thought possible, despite the fact that he’d come crashing back into her life (and those of all their friends) like a meteor.

She grumbled, “Stupid sun.” The light had crossed over her eyes the moment she moved closer to Jason.

“Good morning,” he laughed softly. Even before joining the ranks of Gotham’s vigilante superheroes, the Irish girl had a well-documented hatred of mornings. Witnessing it first-hand this way, was enough to make him forget, for a moment, everything they had yet to do and the danger they were in.

Looking up at him, eyes half open, Amy smiled, “Mornin’ handsome.” Her hair was loose, tumbling haphazardly around her face and shoulders, hair tie lost somewhere in the sheets or on the floor. It was a small thing to be proud of and it made him grin before leaning in, Jason planted a kiss on her forehead. “Do we ‘ave to get up,” she yawned.

“Sadly,” he confirmed. Wetting his lips with his tongue, nerves bleeding into his words, “So…we’re good right?” He wanted so desperately to stay there, run his hands through her hair and not worry about the men paid to kill them. Or any other sins of their pasts that deigned to interfere.

“Yea, we’re good love.”

That small confirmation was more than he expected. A smile spread across his face and Jason pressed a kiss to her forehead.

They stood on the rusted fire escape, Red Hood’s arms crossed over his chest, back pressed against the brick wall. For a day that had started out so fantastically, he was really not enjoying himself right now. “Your face’ll get stuck like that,” Wren teased softly, casting a quick glance in his direction. All the while she worked the lock open on the window, using a combination of magnets and pry tools. The easiest and least destructive way for them to open the old apartment complex’s windows.

He’d been tasked with keeping an eye out for their sniper or anyone else suspicious. Well, more suspicious than he two of them. The fewer people who knew that they’d been there the better.

“You can’t even see my face babe,” he reminded, tapping the section of mask directly over his nose.

Shrugging, the lock gave way with a delightful click. “Details, details. …And we’re in,” she smiled, tucking away her tools. It took nominal effort, despite having been nearly painted shut, for her to push the window up enough, giving them room to slip under and inside the apartment. Careful not to kick or knock the screen they’d set on the fire escape’s landing, Wren ducked under the window first. Each foot hitting the floor quietly, one at a time. Pivoting and tip toeing adeptly until she was few steps in what turned out to be the living room. Red Hood followed suit; reaching down to check his firearms as he moved. Making sure they didn’t scrape or knock anything on his way in.

“So you’re an ex-IRA money launderer, intelligence broker, and all around bad guy, where do you keep the dossiers you don’t want people seeing,” Red Hood asked the otherwise empty room. He scanned the room as he came up beside Wren. She’d collected the stack of mail off what had been Owen Selkirk’s coffee table. “Anything interesting?”

She shook her head. It was all bills. Some envelopes stamped as past due. Others were solicitations – credit cards, car loans, magazines. The usual junk that most people chucked in the bin without a second thought. There wasn’t anything, to Wren’s eyes at least, that even looked like someone had attempted to disguise something important as junk mail. “Um…da’ used to say that Selkirk would hide things in furniture. Thumb drives, CDs, that sort of thing. Didn’t keep hard copies,” she remembered, setting the stack of mail back in its void on the coffee table.

The apartment was extremely nice for someone they’d understood to be barely getting by. A large, industrial-modern layout, in one of the more gentrified neighborhoods of Bludhaven – rusted out, likely unusable in an emergency - fire escape aside. “What about an SD card in a flower pot,” he asked, making his way quietly towards the kitchen. The throw-rug laden wood floors were strangely out of place against the rest of its built in theme. Between that and the living/dining area, the apartment was easily larger than the “luxury” apartment Wren lived in. “We should move here,” he suggested, picking up the fake African Violets on the counter.

“Hah,” she’d knelt next to the couch, running her fingers along it’s long frame looking for anything out of place, “Right. I am not spending nearly four thousand dollars in rent monthly.”

Nothing. He set the plant down and started on the knife block, “C’mon. We could fit a real armory in one of these, I could get rid of my place in Gotham.”

Looking over her shoulder, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed she snorted, “No. I mean…yes, we should probably condense to one place, but no. Not moving to a money pit like this.” She inched along the frame, rounding it’s far corner and checking the arms. “Damn.” Rocking back on her heels, Wren took a quick accounting of the furniture: coffee table, couch, chaise lounge, dining room table and chairs (a four seater), server, TV stand/entertainment center. In the living and dining room alone they could be at this for hours.

“What,” he asked, distracted from his search. So far the flower pots – there were two additional - and both the knife and butcher’s blocks had come up empty. He had a cabinet open, it looked to be the spice and dry good storage. Diligently checking for a false wall or some other cabinetry hidey hole that was out of the ordinary. “Wren,” he called, brow raised behind the mask as he looked in her direction. At best the top of her head was in his line of sight. “You okay over there?

The only response was an exasperated groan. “That bad,” he joked. She glared back at him for a moment.

It was the kind of exchange the two had mastered when he was Robin. Whole conversations using half as many words as either his predecessor or Batman. Where the latter was concerned that was a feat in and of itself. As she rolled up to full height, Wren rubbed her temples. “Okay,” she started, trying orally thinking through the problem at hand, “I’m hiding a thumb drive or other memory storage device. I don’t want it to be obvious to anyone else, but it needs to be easily accessible to me. Where do I put it.”

“Where do you work most,” Red Hood offered. He’d started towards the bed room. There was no desk out in that main open concept room. If there was one in there, given Selkirk’s age, it was likely he’d work at one instead of on a couch or in the kitchen. If not…well they’d have to rethink the idea.

He reached the open door as she answered, “Someplace I can see what’s going on around me.”

“So not the bedroom?”

“Probably not.”

“Well, my idea’s shot then,” he shrugged, turning back to face the room. That was the moment he saw it, the one thing out of place in the whole apartment – their search notwithstanding. “Wren, look at his entertainment center’s placement.” He nodded, clarifying when she shot him a look over her shoulder, “If he’s sitting in this room, then he can see outside, no problem. Both the balcony and fire escape are accessible .” The larger, multi piece, entertainment center was centered in such a way that it almost guaranteed he’d watch everything except what was on the screen. Lots of places to hide even something as large as, perhaps, an external hard drive. “Thinking maybe he tucked it in there somewhere.

Before Wren could answer, they heard the sound of deadbolt tumblers clicking and falling. Red Hood dropped behind the big couch in the center of the room while Wren took cover on the far side of the recliner. What sounded like the bolt disengaging and the smaller knob lock clicking was surprisingly loud in the apartment. Even with the area rugs and curtains. Shifting so he could see around the corner of the couch’s arm, Red Hood drew the weapon in his left holster. He clicked off the safety as the door swung open and took aim.

The door swung open, just wide enough for a man to tuck inside the apartment. His black combat suit, accented with blue bird emblazoned across his chest visible for a brief moment.

“Dude I almost shot you,” Red Hood snapped, pulling back his weapon. The safety’s soft click enough to ease some of the tension in the room. Silence, thick and uncomfortable, settled around them. Red Hood holstered his gun, letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and shrugged.

Nightwing spoke quickly, hearing the snap of the strap that held the gun in place, “Thanks for not doing that.” They all knew the helmet concealed the glare that Red Hood shot at him. The black and blue clad man moved farther into the room, “And thanks for the dead body buddy, super thrilled to find out about it over police scanners.”

“Wasn’t me,” Red Hood sighed, shaking his head. “Bro, if I’d shot him, you’d know.” Of course, if he’d been responsible for Selkirk’s death not only would Wren have been no where the deed but the police wouldn’t have tripped over the Irishman’s body. No one would have. Hell, last he heard no one had found the bodies of the Gotham drug lieutenants he’d…handled.

The laughter from the elder vigilante echoed in the apartment. Both Red Hood and Wren flinched. Unlikely though it was to attract attention, the prospect of being caught made the trio uncomfortable. “I figured that much,” Nightwing clarified after he recovered from his bout of the giggles. He was still tense, like he knew something he wasn’t sharing with either his brother or partner. “But you were there. That makes you both –“

“It was Deathstroke,” Red Hood presumed, “Had to be. The precision of the shots that took out Selkirk were professional. Hell, even the shots that missed us had to be. Not like I’m a small target.”

Wren rolled her eyes, rocking heel to toe, “You’re not wrong love.”

“You were there,” Nightwing concluded, turning his masked glare on Wren.

Red Hood answered in her stead, “Turns out one of my two informants, was also one of hers. We figured if Deathstroke was willing to off Selkirk then he had to have known something. About the mission or the Intermediary. Hell, he was terrified of the latter.”

Hanging his head and groaning, Nightwing pinched the bridge of his nose. Jason and Amy were likely to be the death of him. Not because they’d get him killed but because they’d frustrate him into an early grave. He could deduce, without much effort, that the others had come to this apartment in order to look for information about Deathstroke. Maybe get lucky and find something on the Intermediary as well. “Well shit,” he groaned finally, “How can I help?”

“We were about to dismantle that,” Wren thumbed over her shoulder at the entertainment center. “We could use a second set of hands and…if you’re keyed into the police scanners, a heads up when they’re headed this way.”

Waving a hand at the pair, he shooed them towards the entertainment center. “Let’s get this over with and get outta here.” With that they descended on the entertainment center, both boys looking for any sort of secondary or hidden compartments in the furniture itself. Wren sorted through the DVDs, video games, and CDs in the central console. They were arranged alphabetically and by media type – the peculiarity made Wren’s eyes cross.

Red Hood’s fingers traced along a section at the back of the tower closest to the bed room. He heard the click as he hit one of the pegs supporting the shelf one of the gaming consoles was on. Selkirk owned several – at least one from each generation. It almost made him jealous…almost. “What have we here,” he practically purred, a section of shelf sliding out like a smart phone’s SIM tray. Delicately he caught it between his thumb and forefinger, drawing out the tray until it was in his palm. The other two stopped, Wren leaning back and Nightwing moved around the exterior tower.

“Care to share little brother,” he enquired.

“Jackpot.”

Wren reached out, palm up. Expectantly she waited for Jason to drop the memory card into her hand. “Well, c’mon then,” she sighed, brow furrowed.

“We can look at them later. Like when we’re at home and, and as big bird so astutely pointed out, not rifling around a dead man’s apartment,” he flipped the the memory card along his fingers from index to pinky then it disappeared into his jacket. If only the others could’ve seen his grin. The Red Hood was exceptionally pleased with the move - even if the sour expressions painted across Wren and Nightwing’s faces showed they weren’t. All despite their masks, of course.

Nightwing’s shoulders slumped.The others knew that the memory chip was well concealed. Safe even, at least for now. “Put the tray back, we should get out of here. Sounds like the cops are going to be here any moment. I dunno about you two but I have no desire to have to explain myself.” He was scanning the police channels quietly, Bludhaven’s finest were on their way. Headed to search the apartment, as the trio had expected. They could almost hear the cars rolling up outside.

Slipping the tray into the shelf back where he’d found it, Red Hood nodded knowingly. He couldn’t argue Nightwing’s observation - though a part of him wanted to. Wanted to point out that, thanks to their group’s training, it would be simple for them to evade the police even if they were in the apartment when they arrived. “So…your place then,” He looked to Wren as she rolled up to her feet. Nodding, she stretched and marched over to still raised fire escape window.

“C’mon boys,” she beckoned, slipping out onto the rusted metal fire escape.

The trio moved with purpose around the apartment. Jason checking the door and window locks, closing the curtains as each passed inspection. Without the security offered by the Batcave, they had to improvise. Dick was helping by doing a sweep for any sort of surveillance devices; paranoia ran in the family it seemed. “Anything,” the younger man called, tossing his heavy jacket onto the back of the big couch.

A thumbs up flashed his way.

“We good,” Amy called to the two from the bed room.

Walking into the room, Jason nodded. He asked, looking over his shoulder for a moment, “You sure about this babe?” He was nervous about going over the information in his – their – home. The place was supposed to be a safe haven and if there was anything on the SD card that could be used to track it back to their possession...well, the ramifications made his stomach turn. “Amy, seriously.”

“Not like we have any other options,” she sighed, collecting small floral canvas pouch from inside her desk. “We physically take it to Oracle, they may end up tracking her down. We can’t exactly use the Batcave,” Bruce had returned from whatever trip he was on and Jason vehemently refused the suggestion during the trio’s trek back to Amy’s apartment. Yes, the Batcomputer likely had the requisite anti-spy and malware suites to ensure their safety without question but it also meant going to Bruce. It meant asking for his help with something they were collectively certain they could handle. And, when it came to his foundlings, the Batman had a nasty habit of overstepping his bounds and taking over. .

“Dick’s laptop, your apartment, god I hope this doesn’t…,” Jason trailed off, face going from resigned to irritated all at once. “Y’know what, no. If I say it we’re jinxed and I’m in no mood to risk it.” The comment got Amy to laugh. It was enough to turn the night around, at least until he could collapse into the bed next to her and call it done. Something he was looking forward to more than usual after the previous night/morning.

From the living room, Dick’s voice carried like an auditory battering ram, “You guys coming?” They could hear him messing up the blankets and pillows that had been Jason’s makeshift bed.

“Ungh,” Jason groaned, tossing his head back. There was a part of him that just wanted to die...again. Okay, maybe not literally.

Rocking up on her tiptoes, Amy planted a kiss on his check, two-days-worth of stubble tickling her lips and nose. “C’mon,” she whispered. “Sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get to bed,” there was encouragement in her tone, helped by the wink tossed over her shoulder.

They found themselves in the living room, gathered around the coffee table and Dick Grayson’s laptop. “Shall we,” Dick asked, catching the bag of cords and adapters that Amy chucked across the room at him. It was almost a shame that he’d been fast enough to catch them.

“I don’t like this, at all,” arms cross over his chest, Jason sank down into the couch, his brother having taken the armchair. Heavily he propped his feet up on the coffee table, crossing them as Amy cautiously stepped over the impromptu barrier. He chuckled as his friend produced a strip of electrical tape from her utility belt and slapped it over the lens of the webcam. It wasn’t a perfect solution to ensuring that the webcam would be blind, but it was what they had.

Leaning back, calves hitting Jason’s left leg, she yawned, “Consider it covering our asses.”

“Then how are we –“

“Hey guys,” Barbara’s voice chirped through Jason’s phone. He’d taken the liberty of calling Oracle. It was almost a relief to hear the computer generated voice of Barbara’s current alter-ego. If they weren’t about to ask her for all kinds of technological favors. Turning the device to face them, the other two could see her face – well the avatar used to hide her identity - staring back at them. He’d turned off the WiFi before initiating the video call with their friend. “You!” She snapped at Jason,” We are going to have a long conversation when all this is done. Understood?”

He swallowed hard, nodding. “Yes ma’am.” Everyone knew better than the argue with or otherwise test Barbara Gordon. She was a force to be reckoned with all on her own and kept the family – the Robins mostly – in check. She also had a way of putting the fear of god into the boys, only seldom needing to take action or make good on her threats. “Missed you too Oracle,” he added after a moment, setting the phone down so the others could more easily the screen and she them.

“Hey Oracle,” Dick chimed in, a laugh on his lips at the reaction she’d inspired in Jason. “We got these SD memory cards. Think you could review them remotely through one of the cloud servers if I hook ‘em up to my laptop?”

With a huff she asked, “Yes. Now why am I not there…or you three here…so I we could do this in person? The cloak and dagger would put Batman to shame.”

Dropping onto the couch, legs stretched over Jason’s lap, Wren explained, “They came from the home of a known information broker, he happened to be shot down by the League less than 24 hours ago so there’s some concern about overall security. We’re trying to use as few integrated systems as possible to minimize being potentially compromised.”

“Well someone paid attention,” She praised, voice projecting the smile they couldn’t see. Barbara however, was still able to see the faces of her three friends. She laughed softly when Dick covered his face with his palm, frustrated at the culmination of the week’s events. Jason was still cringing under the subtle threat and Amy had a childlike grin on her face, practically preening at Barbara’s words. “Okay, so do you have the adapter and WiFi scrambler gave you?” Amy and Dick nodded.

Nightwing answered, “They’re already set up Oracle.”

“Okay, give me a few minutes.” They could hear her typing away, keys clacking on her computer, at the other end of the phone. Dick shifted so the others could see the screen of his laptop as well. Windows opened and closed, the cursor flew between programs to the point that it was like watching a humming birds flit between blossoms. It was practically mesmerizing and the nearly half an hour she needed seemed like no more than a few breaths. “And done.”

Jason ventured, “Want to enlighten us plebeians?”

“I transferred the contents of the memory cards to a secured cloud server and scrubbed the physical cards. I wouldn’t put them in a phone or camera but you can get rid of them without having to worry about anything being compromised or potentially traced back even to Selkirk. Don’t put copies of the files on your machines either. I have extra security on them in the server.” Even if she could guarantee the files and memory cards were clean, that was no reason to take any extra risks.

Dick thanked her, tapping the screen on Jason’s phone to end the call when the former Batgirl signed off. He began clicking around the files on the drive, brow furrowed as he scanned through a PDF. “We’re gonna be here a while,” he sighed finally. “There’s…a lot on this drive.”

“I’ll start the coffee,” groaned Jason. None of them were thrilled with the fact that they were losing the likelihood of a good night’s sleep (or any) to yet another review of documents. This time, however, they didn’t even have the luxury of being able to do it at their individual leisure.

Hours ticked by, the trio having to settle for mirrored screens across cheap tablets Dick kept on hand. The kinds of things he’d drop off at Barbara’s to be scrubbed and recycled. Jason took a long drag from his coffee cup, his blue eyes almost glazing over as he stared at the screen. There had to be something worth their time and effort on these drives. Something that made Selkirk’s death worth it. Most of the files at their disposal contained information on par with what they’d find in the Batcomputer. If they hadn’t gotten Barbara to copy the information to her servers they might have sworn it originated with her.

“Shit,” he cursed, looking at the PDF file on his screen. “We have much bigger problems than Deathstroke”

Yawning and rubbing her eyes, Amy leaned over, “What is it?”

Jason pointed to the list of alias under the section of the file for the Intermediary. “The Shadow’s Hand, the Demon’s Knife...the brief time I spent with them, the League cites him as the person Ra’s calls when he needs something done and doesn’t feel like having his family do it. He’s got a short list of confirmed kills but that’s because he’s that...good.” The way his inflection rose at the end spoke volumes. Despite a lack of recorded experience, the Intermediary - when summoned to do so - had a perfect record. “This just got a lot more complicated.”

“No kidding,” groaned Dick. “This just keeps getting better. Please tell me there’s a head shot in there?”

Amy interjected as Jason shook his head, “No, but I think there’s a surveillance image of Deathstroke with someone. Looks like Selkirk extracted an image of them landing at Gotham International.” She tapped the photo icon on her screen and let it take over. Turning the tablet to landscape, it filled the screen. They all knew Slade Wilson, Deathstroke, even out of uniform his hardened grizzled face unmistakable. Beside him stood a petite. He looked like he was maybe Dick’s age, and had striking features that were almost feminine in appearance, long dark hair that reached the bottom of his shoulder blades framed a slender jaw and cat-like eyes.

“Ah fuck,” Jason face palmed. “That’s Dustan, my other League contact. He knew about Selkirk.” He visibly wanted to crawl in a hole and die. In the years he’d been using Dustan to stay one step ahead of...everything...he never considered that the man was more than an information broker. Someone with an ear to the ground and a price for anything he knew. A number of tips over the years suddenly seemed a lot less convenient and more like they were cherry picked for the Red Hood. Also made the frequency with which Dustan changed residences make that much more sense. He was going to be hunting a man who knew how to disappear at least as effectively as any member of their little family. “Just...fucking fantastic.”

#jason todd #jason todd x oc #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x oc #red hood imagine #nightwing imagine #dick grayson imagine #batman imagine #dc comics imagine #dcu imagine

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delos-mio · 7 years

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FHS - A Frank Castle Mini Series - Part 4

A/N: This is it! Last part! Also, this is NSFW yadda yadda

For a moment, you sat with your jaw slack. Had you heard him correctly? So many nights you had spent thinking about this exact moment and it hadn’t ever played out in your head the way it was happening right now. You finally pulled yourself off the couch, treading lightly to where Frank stood. He quietly walked into the bathroom, leaving you to follow behind him.

He flipped on the hot water knob, the old shower head coming to life. You stood face to face with him, his head hung down, face only inches from yours. His full lips parted slightly, letting his warm breath wash over your face. You could feel your chest rising and falling unevenly as his fingers wrapped around the hem of your tee, pulling it slowly up your torso and over your head. It left your chest bare and exposed to him- after all, you had not planned on having company over tonight and didn’t bother to put a bra back on after work. The urge to cover yourself was strong, but you fought it back and followed Frank’s gaze which was firmly fixed on the blush spreading over your chest.

Tentatively, you reached out and took hold of his belt buckle. Your fingers trembled as they pulled the leather loose from around his waist. You gently pushed his dark jeans and boxers to the floor, watching as the revealed his thick thighs and handsome cock. It was his turn to loop his fingers in the waistband of your leggings, tugging the thin fabric down, allowing you to step free. The two of you stood naked, completely exposed to one another for a moment as steam from the cascading hot water began to billow in the room. You took a step closer to Frank, letting your hands rest on his chest, running lightly down to trace the definition in his abs. Every inch seemed to be covered in some kind of scar or bruise, just like you remembered.

Frank upped the ante, closing what little distance remained. His skin was moist with condensation as it melted into yours, his touch rough as he placed a hand on the back of your neck. He gently pulled your lips to his, carefully kissing you like he thought he would break you. When he released you, his breathing was fast and high in his chest. Your eyes flickered to his lips before looking up at him through your lashes. He immediately pulled you back into him, his lips on yours hungrily. You returned his intensity, your hands darting to run up the soft shaved sides of his head, your fingers eventually knotting into the hair at the top of his head. He ran his tongue along your bottom lip, eliciting a low moan from you. You could feel his smile on your lips.

“That’s a nice sound, baby girl,” he purred. Hearing him be gentle with you was making your knees weak. Frank pushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear as he ran the tip of his nose along the bridge of yours. You kissed him again before placing your hands on his broad chest and pushing away just slightly. A low grunt came from the back of Frank’s throat at the sudden lack of contact, but it was soon replaced by a satisfied groan as he watched you lower to your knees. His wide eyes started down at you as you gently wrapped your fingers around his cock, tugging gently at the soft skin. Feeling someone else wrapped around his dick was enough to send him over the edge right then, but he kept staring at you in awe.

As you moved your palm up and down his length, you pressed the head of his hardened cock to your lips, swirling your tongue around his already leaking tip. You heard him cussing under his breath, making you smile wide before removing your hand and taking the length of him into your mouth. He let out a long hiss as your lips wrapped around the base of him, sucking gently. Slowly, you moved your mouth up and down the length of his cock, licking stripes up the underside of his shaft. You looked up at him, trying to catch a glimpse of those eyes you loved so much, but Frank had his eyes clenched shut, reveling in the feeling of having himself pushed back in your throat. He moved his hand to the back of your head, letting his fingers tangle in your hair. You continue your motion, creating just enough pressure to make his hips buck. Frank moves his hand to under your chin, motioning for you to look up at him. You let your lips off him with a pop and gaze at him.

“You look beautiful like this, sweetheart,” he mused, running a thumb along your jaw. “Let’s get in.” You got back on your feet with his help and you were wrapped in his arms once again. You felt him take steps backwards, moving you along with him with a firm grasp on your hips. Carefully, he helped you into the stream of water, pulling your checkered shower curtain closed behind you.

Frank looked even more perfect under the beads of water washing over him. His flawed skin glistened and it was absolutely the most beautiful sight you had ever seen. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him deeply once again. Kissing Frank felt like home; this was what you were supposed to be doing all along. Even through the sweat and water lubricating you, you could still feel how rough his palms and finger tips were, no doubt from years of combat and weapon handling. It was enough to make you crazy. You pulled back slightly and let your fingers gently run over the bruises on his cheeks, his eyes fluttering closed at the contact. Gently, you wiped off the dried blood from his face and you could swear you felt him lean into your touch. How long had it been since someone had shown him any kind of really affection?

The two of you stood in the steady stream for what felt like forever. He would let his hands roam over your skin, exploring the weight of your breasts, the curve of your ass, the softness of your flesh. Every time he ran his hands over you, it sent a shiver down your spine. His touch was everything you imagined and more than you could have ever dreamed. You let yourself feel his chest and abs- something that hadn’t left your mind since the first time you saw him without a shirt. Between lazy kisses, Frank would pull you tight into him, letting your slick skin stick to one another as he pressed needy kisses into your hair. Eventually, the water turned to ice and the collective decision was made to step out.

He watched you as you toweled off, admiring how your body moved as you dried yourself. You went to wrap your towel around your chest when you felt Frank’s hand on yours, pulling it back down to your side, letting the towel fall to the cool tile floor.

“You’re not gonna need that,” he purred. In an instant, he was lifting you in his arms and cradling you to his chest. You threw your arms around his neck and laughed as he took you back out to your bed and dropped you gently on top of your duvet. He hovered over you, letting his mouth dip down and nip along your neck. You couldn’t stop yourself from running your hands up his too strong biceps. All you wanted was to feel him fully; you wanted to know every inch of Frank Castle intimately. Frank continued trailing his kisses down your chest, letting his lips settle over your hardened nipple. He rolled it gently between his teeth before sucking lightly. A low moan came out of you and you could feel Frank smiling once again.

“What are you smiling about?” you asked, unable to mask your own grin.

“Told ya, that’s a real pretty sound you make,” he replied, flicking his tongue over your nipple once again. He nuzzled his broken nose between your breasts before lifting his head, his dark eyes softer than you’d ever seen before. “Can I fuck you, baby girl?” he asked, raising one of his eyebrows at you. A small laugh left your lips before you nodded your head.

“I really, really wish you would,” you admitted. That was all he needed to line his cock up with your entrance and push himself inside. You gasped as he stretched you; it had been a while since a real dick had been inside you, let alone one of someone who you liked so much.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet for me,” he growled as he pulled out slightly and then bucked back into you. You wrapped your arms around his back as he slammed into you, each thrust filling you more than the last. The low grunts coming from him were a perfect song that rang in your ears. You dug your fingernails into his back, dragging as you tried to somehow bring him closer to you.

“I want to be closer to you,” you breathed out between moans. Frank slowed down and pulled out of you, the absence of him making you feel completely empty. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed and patted his thigh.

“C’mere,” he huffed and you carefully straddled him, lowering yourself down onto his length and wrapping your legs loosely around his waist. He let one of his buff arms wrap around your hips and the other snake up your back, holding your chest to his. You began to bounce on his cock, the new connection leaving you breathless. His fingers dug deeper into your skin as he held you tight to his body. Frank sloppily kissed your collar bone before having to tuck his forehead into your neck. You could hear his breathing change and his grip shift as his climax approached. Just as you lowered yourself onto him fully, you heard him mutter shit! under his breath and his hips begin lock as he pumped you full of his seed. You lifted yourself off him, but sat again on his lap, your forehead resting on his. He lifted a rough hand to your cheek and ran his thumb along your bottom lip.

“Sorry I was a real shit head,” he breathed out, his lungs still trying to regulate like they were supposed to. You hushed him before pressing a long kiss to his glistening lips. Slowly, you got off his lap and moved back to the headboard, laying down and opening your arms to him. He laughed lightly and crawled up next to you, letting his head rest on your chest as he absentmindedly ran his thumb along the curve of your breast. “You deserve more than I can give you, Y/N,” he said after a moment of silence.

“I don’t care about that. I just want you, Frank.”

“Can’t take you out to nice dinners or to the beach or even out to play pool. You need someone who can show you off and give you the world,” he mumbled, his grip around you tightening. You knew in your heart he was probably right. All he was trying to do was save you from a future of hurt and watching him come back injured. Falling a ghost wasn’t something you ever planned on. But here, with Frank’s stubble scratching at your chest, you knew it would never be anyone but him.

“But can you still come over and take Max and I for walks and buy me whiskey when I’m grumpy?” you asked, running your fingers through his cropped hair. You felt him laugh again, this time pressing a kiss to the top of your breast before moving up to look at you face to face.

“I could still do that.”

“Then like you always say, stop worrying about me,” you smirked. Frank narrowed his eyes at you mocking him before letting his own smile crack and pulling your lips to his, capturing your mouth in a deep kiss.

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