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#mob!frank castle
darlingshane · 2 years
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Jon Bernthal’s Kissing Scenes for Sensual Saturday @bernthirst-events
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mrs-elsie-barnes · 6 months
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Now that Bambi's been introduced to the family...
Find Bambi's intro HERE!
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Part Two of this
Karen bangs on the wall that separates her room from Kate’s. She can still hear her, puttering around in her room, click-thunk, click-thunk
“You're going to be late!” She hollers.
Karen can’t quite make out what Kate says but it’s a good bet that she’s swearing. There’s a noise, even more muffled, that is probably the girl in the room on the other side of Kate’s, hollering at her to keep it down. Kate swears some more. 
She’s so easy to fluster. Put a gun or a bow or a slingshot or even a javelin, one memorable time, in her hand, and Kate Bishop is as cool as a cucumber. Stick her in a dress and tell her to flirt, she falls apart. She can flirt on accident well enough, but on purpose--
BANG.
Karen half jumps out of her skin, crossing her door and opening it a crack. 
“Yes?” she smiles sweetly at Kate. 
“Gimme your compact,” Kate says, and Karen’s smile vanishes.
“Asking works too, you know,” she informs Kate while rummaging around in her purse. She’s about to drop it in Kate’s outstretched hand when she stops. “What do you need it for? You’re not going to do the shine the light in his eyes thing, are you?”
“Maybe. Haven’t decided.”
Karen pulls back her hand. “Don’t. It’s overkill. You’re wearing a purple dress and red lipstick, if he doesn’t notice you, he’s blind.”
Kate grumbles but doesn’t outright protest, so Karen drops the compact back in her purse. “Speaking of the lipstick,” she leans forward, peering at Kate’s lips. “You forgot to blot. You're gonna smudge.”
“Oh, hell. You got a tissue?”
“Sure do.” Karen doesn’t reach for a tissue, though. Instead, she leans forward, planting her lips square on Kate’s. Not moving much, no, that would defeat the purpose and make Kate later than she is now, not that it hasn’t happened before. 
Karen pulls back, surveys Kate’s makeup with a critical eye. “Better,” she says, shoving Kate out the door. 
She swears all the way down the hall.
Kate sweeps into the club in an air of righteous indignation, sitting at the bar with irritation radiating off of her. 
Karen only pulled that trick on her a few times, and it never failed to wind her up. Always before stuff like this, too--
Kate realizes with a start that that’s probably the point. She came in, wasn’t nervous, and had enough je ne sais qoi that all eyes are on her, however briefly.
Still. Uncalled for. Kate doesn’t feel the least bit bad about palming the quarter off of Karen’s entryway table now.
“If I asked you to make me a Ramos gin fizz, would you punch me in the face?” She asks the bartender.
The woman looks her up and down, taking a deep drag of her cigarette. 
“What do you smoke?” Kate asks, trying another tactic.
“Anything I can get my hands on.”
“Right.” Kate pulls a half-full pack of cigarettes out of her bag. They’d mostly been an accident, not her fault that man had bumped into her on the street and triggered the instinct. “I’ll give you these on top of your tip.”
The woman throws back her head and laughs. “You want that drink that bad?”
“Mostly just want to see if I can convince you to do it.” She gives the woman a wink.
The woman laughs again, palming the package of cigarettes. “You’d better not ask me for one of these in an hour.”
“I don’t smoke.”
The woman gives her a strange look before turning around. “Give me fifteen minutes, doll. A fizz takes time.”
The woman retreats, tapping a man on the shoulder and telling him to keep an eye out on the bar. 
“You don’t smoke?” The question comes from a man, sipping whiskey, probably. His voice is low, rough. Reminds her of train bridges in France and the pungent smell of explosives. His hair short on the sides and long on the top. 
Marines. Always easy to spot.
“Last time I smoked my hands caught fire.”
The man laughs before he realizes she’s serious. “Really?”
Kate peels off her gloves and holds her hands up, and the man scoots over to inspect them further. 
“Shit,” he says, putting his cigarette down and taking her hands in his, tilting them so her scars catch the light. “How’d that happen?”
He doesn’t seem to realizes she’s a stranger and he’s holding her hands, and Kate wants to cackle. Take that, Page. I can flirt, too.
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marvellous1917 · 1 year
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Icarus Falling
(Part 2)
Pairing: mob!Bucky x female!tattoo artist!reader
Summary: It’s gonna be a busy day. Giving a tattoo to a mobster that broke into your home was nothing compared to the fact that you can’t stop thing about how fucking hot he is.
Warnings: lots and lots of swearing, mention of crime (duh), fights, broken bones, tattoo needles, threats, think that’s it.
Part one ⬇️:
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A/N: AAHHHH the response to part one was actually insane!!!! I hope this second part is good enough. Love u all <3
———————
Bold is reader’s thoughts.
Italics is Bucky’s thoughts.
The size of the tattoo is in inches.
———————
Walking to the shop, your thoughts were running a mile a minute. Holy fuck, what the fuck, did last night actually happen?, James Barnes is gorgeous and made falling asleep last night really fucking difficult, screw him for making me all hot and bothered. Asshole. But one persistent one came screaming to the front- how the fuck am I supposed to tell Frank?
Unfortunately there was not a lot of time to come up with an answer to that, the shopfront coming into view as you turn the corner. Jigsaw Ink stood proud in the middle of the busy Brooklyn street, the black paint of the walls in stark contrast to the pastel pink of the florists’ to one side and the baby blue of the cafe the other.
The shop was a second home to you, the couch at the front becoming a bed for you sometimes after a night out, or if Caleb was being an ass. Frank was nice enough to let you crash when you needed, trusting you with his business. Frank, and the other two artists at the shop, Billy and Curtis were like family - a weird combination of protective older brothers and best friends who were terribly bad influences on you.
The bell on the door rang when you opened it and there was a yelled “Y/N? That you?” from a deep voice at the back of the room.
“Yeah Frankie, it’s me. I thought Billy was supposed to be here, not you?” You yelled back, moving behind the counter toward your station, dropping your bag and taking off your jacket.
“He was, but he managed to get his ass knocked out last night so he’s taking the day off,” Frank replied laughing, walking out from the back towards you.
“What? Is he ok?” You ask, giving Frank a hug when he got closer.
“Managed to piss somebody off at a bar, not really sure what happened, but he’s fine. Just stupid,” he replied, patting your back as you release him.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love the guy but he is an idiot I swear, you can guarantee it was his fault as well,” you say.
Frank chuckle and nods as a response, “yeah I bet. Hey , you got many appointments today?” He asks.
Shit. How the fuck am I supposed to tell Frank Castle - literally the most protective man on earth - that I had to move all of my appointments to next week because a damn mobster broke into my house and demanded I gave him a tattoo today.
“…uh. No just the one, I had to move the rest,” you answer, praying to whoever was listening that Frank wouldn’t ask any questions.
“Why’s that?”
Fuucckkkk.
“Umm..no reason really..” your mind went completely blank, the only thing running through you head were those goddamn blue eyes.
“Kid, what’s going on?” Franks’ eyes narrowing, seeing straight through your bullshit response.
Ughhh. Change the subject right now. “Y’know you call me kid all the time, you’re not that much older than me Frankie. I mean there’s only-”.
“You’re ramblin’ kid. The fuck is going on?” He says, all sense of humor him from his voice.
Ah, there his is, protective Frankie coming in full force.
“Shit. Ok so here’s what happened-” you tell him the full story, coming home from work to see a dangerous criminal chilling in your apartment, the fear that came with that lovely surprise, Caleb’s debt, the weird philosophical conversation, the tattoo talk. All of it.
Of course, excluding the part where you found yourself extremely attracted to the fucking mobster, his weirdly slightly comforting presence, and the fact that the memory of those blue eyes where all you could see as your hand slipped between your legs before you fell asleep.
To be fair to the man, Frank listened to every word you had to say, not interrupting one. But you could see on his face every single emotion he was feeling, the main one being just straight up confusion.
“Lemme get this straight. The fucking Winter Soldier broke into your house last night and is coming in for a tattoo in..” he checked his watch as he spoke, “..an hour?”
“..yeah.” Hit the nail on the head there Frankie.
“Shit.” He says, rubbing his hand over his face in an act of desperation.
“Yep.” You say, patting his arm to try and reassure him.
“Alright, I’m gonna be here the whole time, don’t you worry about that kid. You’re gonna be fine.” He assures you, obviously worried about you.
“I know that Frankie, and if it’s any consolation, he didn’t seem all that bad.” You answer.
“Not that bad?!” He almost shouts, and incredulous look on his face, “Y/N he’s a fucking gangster. He’s fucking danger-“
“FRANK!” You yell, the only way to cut off his tirade before it starts. “I know that, but last night he didn’t do anything bad,okay, and if he wanted to hurt me, he definitely would have done it by now. I’ll be fine Frank, I’ll just give him the tattoo and that will be it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta set everything up.” You say, moving back to your station, beginning to grab everything you need.
“Holy fuck kid, how are you not freaking the fuck out right now?” He whisper shouts, running one hand up and down his head.
“I’m not sure. I think…I think I trust him not to hurt me. It’s weird, but my gut’s telling me I’ll be fine.” You answer, starting to print some different sized stencils.
“Kid your brain is brok-” Frank starts to say but he’s cut off by his phone ringing. He pulls it from his pocket and says “Shit, it’s my kids’ school, I gotta take it.”
You wave him off, Frank answers the phone with a sigh.
He walks off to the back of the shop, leaving you to finish setting up your station. Frank talks for a minute and wander back towards you.
“My girl got into a fight at school, Maria’s busy at work so I’ve got to go get her,” he says, dragging his hands down his face, in a way only an exasperated father could.
“Oh my god is she ok?” You ask.
“She’s fine, but apparently she broke some little shitheads nose for picking on her friends,”
“Like father, like daughter then,” you respond with a laugh.
“Can the people I care about stop getting themselves in dangerous situations for like five goddamn seconds.” Frank says, throwing a pointed glare your way.
“Frankie, how many times, I’m gonna be fine alright, go get your kid and -I dunno- take her out for ice cream, tell her she did good.” You say, pushing him to the door.
“Only if you’re one hundred percent certain you’ll be fine.” He says, already pulling his jacket from the hook.
“I’m good I swear, now go!”
“Ok ok I’m going, stop pushing me” he says, leaving the shop and letting the door fall closed behind him, the bell ringing as it did.
Only a minute passed before your phone pinged with a text.
James:
Have you already forgotten about me that quickly doll?
Send me the address to the shop
Now… please
Fuck me. Why does just his text give me fucking butterflies. Ugh. How irritating.
You send him the address and his response is cheeky as shit.
James:
See you at 1 doll, you better be wearing something pretty for me.
Little shit.
————
You had the music in the shop bumping, using it to help calm your pounding heart, adrenaline starting to get the best of you. Your favourite song came over the speakers so you turned it up and started to dance a little, knowing that you had at least 10 minutes before Barnes turned up. Unfortunately this action caused you to miss the ringing of the bell on the door.
Holy shit - ink and a show, today is going better than expected already.
Bucky slowly let the door close, trying not to disturb the dancing girl he couldn’t get out of his head. He lent against the wall, just watching and waiting…and staring.
Shaking out your hands to get rid of any nerves, you turn and nearly scream when you see Barnes stood at the door.
“Oh god, sorry I didn’t hear you come in,” you say, subtly looking him up and down and damn he looks good. Ever the powerful mobster, he wore a black suit, his black shirt had no tie and was unbuttoned at the top. His hair was slicked back from his face, opposite to how it was the night before. This was the other side of him, the business man - James Barnes: the face of multiple charities, the man that law enforcement could never seem to put behind bars. Last night you met the threat, the assassin, and you may be one of the first in his history to survive a meeting with the Soldier.
“No problem doll, I was enjoying the show,” he says, pushing off of the wall and stalking towards you.
Oh my god, “oh..ok, well I have everything set up and ready so if you’re ok to start I say let get going,” you respond, turning to the part of the shop where your station was, nerves flooding back, wanting to get this over as soon as possible.
“Damn girl, not even any small talk?” He asks, slowly following you to the table.
“Oh sorry, I would have asked how your day has been so far, but I didn’t want you to think I was prying into your business. I wouldn’t want you to think I was being disrespectful ab-”
“Ramblin’ again doll, thought I told you that you don’t need to be afraid of me,” he said softly, sounding genuine. “I know what people say about me, I understand why you would be nervous, but I just ask you to not believe everything you hear, ok doll? I’m not who they say I am.” His tone was gentle, almost tired but still pleading, hoping you believe him.
“So you’re not a mobster?” You ask, voice low and calm.
“Oh no I am,” he responds with a small laugh, “I am, and I do what gangsters do. But I am not the ruthless animal I’m made out to be, doll I’m just not. I do what needs to be done.”
His voice breaks slightly on the pet name. His tone is so sincere and tired. Oh my..he’s telling the truth. It actually affects him to hear that about himself.
“Ok,” you respond, siting on your stool next to your station and the table, looking up at him with no fear in your eyes, trusting his words.
“Ok? That’s your response?” He asks, moving around the table to sit on it directly in-front of you.
“Yeah. What did you want me to do Barnes, not believe you?” You ask, all fear gone from your voice.
“Of course not,” he says, confusion laced in his voice, his eyebrows furrowed, “but I wasn’t expecting you to believe me immediately, shit you were scared of me like a minute ago.”
“I know but I think I trust you? You haven’t done anything to me, y’know other than breaking into my apartment. I trust you when you say you’re not someone I should be afraid of.” You answer truthfully.
“…good.” He says, at a loss of what to say next.
“Good. So, Barnes, are we doing this or what?” You ask.
“Yeah let’s do it doll, and please, call me Bucky.” He responds, shrugging off his jacket, folding it and placing it on the head of the table. You had to make a conscious effort to not stare at the way his arms filled out his shirt, but damn it was hard. He sat silently waiting for you to talk.
“Ok..Bucky.. tell me about what size and what placement you want for this.” You say, “I printed some sizes out because I wasn’t sure what size you wanted, and I can reprint or adjust it based in what you want.”
“Oh you a real professional, huh? Not gonna lie to you doll, that serious voice is kinda getting me goin’” he says, smirk on his face, leaning back on his arms, lifting his hips and moving slightly on the table.
Fuck me, what is this man doing to me? He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s talking again.
“I want to get it on my forearm, the inside, and I think that size looks good,” he says, pointing to the 10x8 you printed.
“Ok that sounds good, which arm were you thinking?”
Silence. He stares down at you, an unreadable look on his face. You break eye contact and then freeze.
Shit. Shit. You dumbass. Which arm? Which fucking arm? Are you kidding? I can literally see his metal fucking hand. Oh dear god.
The silence between you goes on for entirely too long. You’re not sure whether you should apologise or wait for him to speak first. You weren’t sure if he would be offended, having a reminder of his injury.
He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just continues to stare down at you, that blank look on his face. Looking back up at him, you start to apologise but the words get caught in your throat. His eyes. He couldn’t control them the same way he did his face, tons of different emotions flowing through them, none lasting long enough for you to understand before another one took its place.
If only you knew what he was actually thinking. She asked which arm. She knows about my arm, everyone does, but she still asked. She forgot. The arm is all people see, a weapon, an instrument used to inflict nothing but pain. It’s all people see, but she forgot. That’s not what she sees. Maybe…maybe she just sees me.
He’s shuts his racing thoughts down, fully aware of how awkward the silence was becoming. “I’m thinking my right arm might be a little easier for you doll,” he says, an amused look crossing his face, his tongue poking his cheek.
You open your mouth to apologise for your mistake but he holds up his right hand and says, “and please, you don’t have to apologise like I know you’re going to, we’re all good darlin’.”.
He’s gotta stop with the pet names before I melt.
“Ok, uh, are you sure, because I honestly meant no disrespect or anything. I-,” you start, but Bucky cut you off quickly.
“Darlin’, what did I just say?” A stern tone coats his words and goddamn does it send a shiver down your spine. You internally roll your eyes and look away, back to your station, when you feel two warm fingers on your jaw, turning your head back to looks at him. Holy fuck. He places his thumb on the other side of your jaw, forcing you to keep looking at him as he leans in closer. His voice was low when he said, “That wasn’t a rhetorical question, Y/N, what did I just say?”
Jesus fucking wept. Somehow his use of your name made your heart pound, and the fact that his hand was so warm and strong holding onto your face.
“You said we’re all good..” you answer trailing off at the end of your sentence. His eyes don’t move from yours for a second.
“And?” He asks, tilting his head slightly.
Christ alive.
“I don’t have to apologise..” you say, eyes flicking between his and falling to his lips for a second and then back to his eyes.
“That’s right darlin’,” his eyes dropped to your lips, his tongue darting out to wet his lip. “So stop, okay?” He says, lifting your chin to catch your eye.
“Yes sir.” It’s an automatic response but you can’t help but be a little proud of yourself when he lets out a small throaty growl at the name.
“Careful doll.” He responds, letting go and leaning back, “How about we get started before I do something you regret, hmm?”
Like I could regret you.
You turn back to your station to try and clear your head of all the dirty thoughts running wild. “Ok.. Bucky, if you could roll up your sleeve so I can wipe the area, I’ll place the stencil and you can check if it’s where you want it to be.” You say, not used to the name he said to call him by.
“Mhm,” he hums, releasing the cuff link on his right sleeve, his prosthetic catching the glare of the light above, the plates shining. He places the cuff link in the pocket of his jacket and begins rolling up his sleeve and folds it at his elbow.
You clean the area and place the stencil straight on his arm, and peel it off.
“There’s a mirror on the wall over there, you can check if it’s alright.” You say.
“Okie dokie doll,” he responded the furrowed his brows, like he was confused at why he said that, not very gangster of him.
I like him. He says okie dokie.
“Looks good there darlin’, and as much as I hate to say it, we gotta speed this up a little, I’m expecting a call at some point around 2:30 and I’d prefer you not have to hear it.” He says, coming back to the table, sitting down and swinging his legs up onto it.
You take his arm, putting it on the rest in a position easiest for tattooing while saying “Why’s that? Would you have to kill me if I overheard your call?” You ask, enough humor in your voice for him to know you’re joking.
“Probably, depends how much you hear.” He said, completely deadpan. He looks at you and you have the strangest feeling that he actually wouldn’t hurt you either way.
“Shit ok. Is that position comfortable for you?”
“I’m all good darlin’, let’s go,” he says, adjusting his position on the table slightly. His left arm rests across his stomach as he sits on the table, leaning against the backrest, his ankles crossed.
“Ok I’m gonna do a small line so you know how it feels,” you look at him and he nods. You draw a line about 2 centimetres long then stop, “how’s that?” You ask.
“Ain’t nothin’ doll, keep goin’.” He responds.
“Ok here we go.” You say, getting back to it.
————
You’ve been tattooing for about 40 minutes, and there hasn’t been a word spoken between the both of you. His arm kept flexing whenever you moved away, and he kept clenching his jaw, like he was in pain but was refusing to admit it, even to himself.
“Are you ok? We can stop for five if you want a break? I’ve just finished the outline so I’ve got to change needles anyway.” You ask, disrupting the silence between you, moving the machine away from his arm so you can switch to a higher grouping for the blackwork.
“I’m fine Y/N, how much longer do you think it’ll take?” He asks, moving his head to look at the outline that you had completed.
“Oh it’s hard to say, but probably another 30 at least,” you respond, looking at him while he was admiring the tattoo so far.
God he’s pretty.
“Shit.” He says, rubbing his forehead with his other hand.
“Are you worried about your call?” You ask calmly.
“Not worried about the call itself… just having to do it here may cause some issues.” He responds, lowering his hand to his thigh.
“Because I’m here? I can go to a different room if you want?” You say, placing the machine back on your station, and turning to look at him fully.
“It’s ok doll, to be honest with you, nothing that needs to be said will make any sense to you anyway, and I mean that in the least offensive way possible.” He says, looking at you with apologetic face, tilting his head slightly. “But depending on the news I get, I wouldn’t want my reaction to… scare you.”
“Oh.. well I guess we’ll see when your call comes.” You answer, unsure of how to react to that.
————
The sharp ringing of his phone interrupts the sounds of the machine. You move the machine away from him, turning it off so he could speak freely without noise.
“I really am sorry about this darlin’, but it’s important-”
“Answer it then, it’s fine Bucky.” You cut him off, concerned he was going to miss it if he kept talking.
He gave you another apologetic look, and then turned his back to you to get off the table and answer the call.
You sat in silence as he started to speak.
“Rogers, what did ya find?” His voice changes from how he speaks to you, deeper and more serious.
The person on the other line speaks for a moment before Bucky responds, “we already knew that, didn’t we? What new information did you find?”
Silence.
“Of course he is..,” there is anger in his tone now, “get someone to tell the asshole he can threaten what he likes, I’m not sitting down with him.”
A moment goes by and you think that may have been the end of it, until you see his shoulders tense and-
“FUCK NO!” He shouts, making you jump a little.
“No Rumlow Gets Nothing, I don’t give a shit what he’s doing… Then send the commissioner a goddam gift basket Steve, some portraits of his family would be nice, remind him why he pays us the fucking protection fee.” He seethes at the man down the phone.
This should not be turning me on, shit.
“For fucks sake… Walker is nothing Steve, just some fucking Nazi junkie with a rich daddy, trying to get his hands on my shit…get Nat to bring his ass in, I’ll deal with it Steve… I said I’d deal with it.”
His tone on the last sentence sends a shiver down your spine, what the fuck does ‘deal with it’ mean?
“Ah shit is he ok?” Bucky asks, tone soft now, caring even, “Damn, he’s gonna be out for blood now.. good for him.. give Clint the week off, find the guys and give the pricks to him, let him get out some of his pent up craziness out.”
Oh Clint sounds fun.
“Ok, alright I gotta go now man. Yeah I’m at the shop… nah it’s nothing..yeah ya did… ok fuck off now.. later man.”
He hangs up the phone, takes a death breath and pinches the place between his eyebrows, his other hand going to his hip. He stands like that before he turns back to you, with a small awkward smile. That was cute.
“Sorry about that doll, hope I didn’t upset ya,” he says, walking around the table and looking down at you.
“You didn’t. I gotta ask though, is your friend or whoever ok?” You ask, not bringing up the start of the call where the man in-front of you all but admitted to a multitude of crimes - blackmail, extortion, supplying drugs. He sounded different- genuine when he asked if the man was ok. It was sweet.
“Clint? Yeah no he’s fine, got jumped last night so he’s pissed about it, but he’s ok, worst thing he got were some nasty bruises and a broken finger.” Bucky responds, confusion on his face, wondering why you care.
“How did he break a finger?” you ask, moving backwards as he sits back on the table.
“Oh he didn’t go down without a fight, clocked one of them on his way out,” he says with a small chuckle.
“Ah, good for crazy Clint,” you say with a smile.
Bucky let’s out a sharp quick laugh, “that exactly what I thought doll,” he says, leaning back and putting his arm on the rest, “ready when you are.” He adds.
Ok right back to it. Got it boss.
“Ok, should only be about 10 more minutes.” You say.
“Alright doll.” He answers, leaning his head back on the rest, tilting his head so he could watch you.
Ten minutes later you were finished, putting your machine down for the final time.
“Okie dokie, I’m all done. Have a look in the mirror, see what ya think,” you say, hoping he liked it, not much you could do about it if he didn’t.
He moves over to the mirror, checking out his new ink, twisting his arm around to see it fully. He’s silent for a little while before he says, “fuck doll, you’re a damn artist.”
“Does that mean you like it?” You ask, failing to hide the hope in your voice.
“I love it. Couldn’t have asked for a better one for my first piece.” He says, walking forwards to stand in-front of you, letting you wrap the fresh tattoo, handing him a leaflet on aftercare as you talk.
“You’re shitting me,” you say, “was that seriously your first one?”
“Yeah, why are you so surprised darlin?” He responds, tilting his head.
“I don’t know, just sorta thought you’d have them all over.” You answer.
“All over, huh. You been thinking about me naked doll?” He says with a cheeky grin, talking half a step closer to you.
Shit.
“What, n-no of course not, why would I do that. I mean I’m sure you look good - uh fine.. naked but I don’t-” you cut yourself off before you embarrass yourself anymore.
“No, no ramble on Y/N please, I’m really enjoying watching you try to figure your way out of the grave you’re digging right now,” he says, chucking lightly.
“Shut up Bucky, leave me alone” you responds, looking down at your feet.
“Hey,” he grabs your chin, again, and add pressure until you’re looking up at his eyes, “don’t ever try and tell me what to do, darlin, I don’t tend to respond well to it. I won’t ‘shut up’ and I’ll never ‘leave you alone’… I like ya too much for that.” He says, sounding like a mix between a threat and a compliment.
“Uh.. okay.” You answer, not sure how to respond to his words.
He can tell that you don’t know what to say, so he mercifully breaks the silence. “I love the tattoo doll, it’s looks amazing. You’ve got a talent Y/N.” He drops his hand from your chin as he speaks.
“Thank you, Bucky. It means a lot.” You answer sincerely.
“How much do I owe you sweetheart?” He asks, reaching into his jacket for his wallet.
That’s a new one.
“Uh, say $180?” You respond.
“$180? Damn you gotta charge more than that doll,” he says pulling some bills from his wallet.
He hands you the bills and says “now that’s for today and it should cover next time too, take half for now and half for then.”
You’re stunned by the fact that he’s already planning for next time but your jaw actually drops when you look at the bills.
They were hundreds.
“Woah I think you gave me the wrong bills,” you say, trying to push the bills back in his hands.
“No I didn’t, I know what I gave you. $180 for today, say $200 for next time and the rest is tip.” He answers smoothly, folding your hand back over the bills.
You look down to count and start shaking your head, “I can’t accept this, it’s way too much.”
“Consider it a thank you for dealing with the inconvenience of me having to do business in the middle of the appointment.” He says with a smile.
“Bucky this is 2000 dollars.”
“I know.” He puts up his hand again, stopping you from talking, “I’m not taking it back doll, just have it will ya?” He says, rolling his sleeve back down, doing the cuff back up with the cufflink and placing his jacket back on.
“Oh my god, you’re serious aren’t you?” You ask, unbelievable he wanted you to have over fifteen hundred dollars as tip.
“Yes I am.” He answers, straightening his jacket, “it also may be a small bribe.”
There it is.
“A bribe for what?” You ask, expecting his to ask you to keep quiet about his call.
“I want you to be my artist, anytime I want a tattoo, I want you doing it for me.” He says, smiling down at you with a hint of…something him his eye.
“Really?” You ask in shock, not expecting that from him.
“Yeah, like I said earlier, you got talent. I want more of you on me.” Bucky says smirking at the euphemism he made.
Fuck me running.
“Oh..shit.. yeah ok, that sounds..,” you swallow heavily, “sounds like a plan.” You smile up at him, trying to hide the way his words affected you.
He smiles back, stepping closer and closer until his chest is almost touching yours.
“Yes it’s does. You’re mine now doll,” he says, a dark look in his eye. You swallow hard again and your breath stutters at his words, eyes going straight to the floor. He notices your reaction and smirks, “my artist, I mean.” He continued.
“Although, judging by your little reaction there, I’d bet you be ok with that, wouldn’t you doll?” He says, his tone slightly mocking.
You say nothing.
He hums, then places his right hand on your cheek and tilts your head so you’re looking him in the eye again.
“Would you?” He asks softly.
“Maybe,” you whisper, a cocky smile breaking out on his face.
“Maybe, huh? ‘Mkay, guess I’ll just have to convince you then doll.” He says back, leaning closer, eyes going to your lips before he looks back up, giving you a chance to get out of the situation.
“Guess so.” You respond, some confidence back in your voice.
He hums again, and then he’s kissing you. His kiss is forceful but somehow still gentle, like he’s holding back as much as he can.
Fucking finally you can’t help but think as you move your hand to his wrist, the other one going to his left bicep, the feel of the solid metal under your hand was new, but not unwelcome.
His metal hand moves, wrapping around your back and pulling you against him, deepening the kiss when you gasp.
Reluctantly, you break the kiss when you run out of air. He leans back, the pressure on your back relieving a bit.
“Damn doll, what the fuck are you doing to me?” He asks, biting his bottom lip.
“Something good, hopefully.” You respond cheekily.
He groans, leaning his head back. “Yeah hopefully darlin’. I hate to say it sweetheart but I gotta get going.” He says, releasing his hold on you. He moves towards the door and for a second you think he going to leave without another word, until he turns back and says “I’ll talk to you later doll, keep your phone on or I’ll drop by.” He finished his sentence with a wink, and then he’s gone, the bell on the door ringing behind him.
Fuucckk. Maybe I’ll break my phone so he has to come by. Who knew the fucking Winter Soldier was actually a gorgeous softie under it all.
————
A/N: Ta da! Finally complete!! Love everyone of you that read this, mwah 😘
I can’t tag anyone else on this post so I will tag the rest in a separate post.
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Thinking about Frank Castle x Avengers!Reader
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You met him through Bucky because Sam would obviously try and find Bucky a veteran's support group like the one he ran in CATWS but in Brooklyn - which led him to Curtis' group (I've put this HC in previous writing and I stand by it)
You're roommates with Sam and Bucky and occasionally they host poker night with some of the guys and one night you come home from an evening stroll to a kitchen table of vets and beer and cards.
You smile shyly and say hi to the group and Frank is instantly smitten.
But it takes weeks of casual small talk and asking Bucky about you for him to finally pluck up the courage to ask you out.
Once you make things official, he doesn't want anyone coming after you in retaliation against him plus he's so scared to lose yet another person he cares about. So he asks to keep your relationship secret even from the rest of the Avengers, which makes you roll your eyes because you have super powers you'd be fine to defend yourself against any of Frank's enemies.
Frank also worries you might be a little ashamed of him publicly. He thinks it might be harder on you if the world knew you were dating a criminal vigilante. Avengers get lots of press and attention and he'd hate to bring his drama into it and hurt your image and potentially all the good you do in the world even if you don't give a shit about the publicity side of it.
Which means a lot of sneaking around - dates in darkly lit restaurants and such.
Date nights frequently get postponed because you getting called on last minute missions or Frank takes longer hunting down a gang than he was anticipating.
Even if you go weeks without seeing each other because of your busy work lives, the love is always still there and you both do a great job of making up for lost time.
When you give him recaps of your recent missions, he always scoffs and gets worried about your safety and asks you not to go into such dangerous situations but obviously you have to it's your job.
So you at some point have to make a rule that he gets no interference in your work stuff. He can make any request in your civilian life to keep you safe (ie. you can't go out at night without him, etc.) but is not allowed to make any requests about your job.
Until inevitably your work crosses paths with his work because the street level gangs and mob bosses he takes down tend to have ties to bigger things like Hydra and such.
One night you're at a warehouse upstate following a lead on a Hydra weapons facility and bump into Frank who was tracking down a human trafficking ring that was also linked to the same address.
Since he knows you, Bucky and Sam, he agrees to help the Avengers just this one time.
You could never convince him to join up and "go legit" no matter how hard you tried. He liked working alone and with noone giving him orders.
As you raid the warehouse and take down the enemy, he's aghast at seeing you put yourself in harms way so flippantly but you have powers and Shield training, so of course you're fine.
He's never actually seen you in action before and he eventually gets over the fear and is super turned on at seeing you be so bad ass and kick booty.
Yeah, the passionate "I missed you. That was so badass. I was so scared. God I hope we don't get caught." sex you have behind the warehouse as the mission is wrapping up is steamy and animalistic.
Bucky has super soldier hearing so he hears it and figures it out first.
Except Yelena has actually known for months because she's a spy, duh.
Sam is the last to figure it out but isn't surprised, you two are so compatible it seems obvious that you should be together.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 10 months
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the shed
lilac, chapter ten
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a/n: the drama is here, folks. it has arrived. welcome.
summary: “he’s here,” you shuttered, your words barely above a whisper.
warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, kinda mob!ex-boyfriend vibes, angst, crying, violence
word count: 2358
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
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“Hey, Otto,” you smiled warmly as the small town’s sheriff untangled his scarf from around his neck and marched up to where you were wiping a small table down with a damp cloth, “Donna should be here soon if you wanna sit with her during lunch.”
“Oh, I’d love to,” the seasoned man sighed longingly, “but unfortunately the stack of paperwork I left at my desk won’t allow me to hear the latest gossip. She’ll just have to fill me in tomorrow.” 
“So, to go then?” the rag in your grasp finished up its cleanly dance across the smooth woodgrain. 
“Yeah,” he nodded, thinking out loud as he glanced down to stuff as much of the scarf into his left pocket as it could bear, “right now I’m thinking a sandwich, unless, what’s your special today?” 
“Uh, it’s a dahl,” you informed him, carefully folding up the wipe as you stepped closer towards the kitchen door, the sheriff shadowing the short journey, “got lots of spinach and stuff in it.”
“Oh, it’s dahl day? Well, then forget about the sandwich, I’ll have some of that with rice, just rice, and maybe if you could also fill up my thermos with some fresh coffee, that would be great,” he opened up his coat and conjured the nifty decanter from a roomy inner pocket. 
“You got,” you uttered before he handed the flagon off to you and your feet carried you the rest of the way into the kitchen, “hey, dad?” you gently patted his shoulder as you walked past his stance by the stove to get to the coffee maker. 
“Yeah, sweetie?” he halted his stirring and tapped the turmeric-stained spoon on the edge of one of the simmering pots before resting it back down on a little plate to the side. 
Unscrewing the top off of the pastel yellow thermos, you gingerly streamed in some of the requested brew, “can you pack up a portion of dahl with rice for Otto?” 
“Yep, yep,” he fished out a spatula from one of the jugs on the counter that simply overflowed with various utensils, “tell him it’ll be one second.” 
Entering the dining space once more, you handed off the filled thermos to sheriff Nilsen, “here,” who now sat on one of the chairs, “he says it’ll just be a moment.”
“Thanks, kid,” he flashed you a warm smile just before you turned on your heel, “you have a great rest of your day, yeah?”
“You too!” you glanced back over your shoulder with a small wave. 
As you strode towards the lobby and the thick stack of mail you still hadn’t sorted through, a voice began to catch your ear. 
“Fiancé?” old lady Edith’s shrill tone cut through from around the corner, “well, I had absolutely no idea she was engaged,” as you entered the lobby from behind the front desk, your gaze seized to take in the individual the elder was conversing with as your fingers were too busy scooping up the stack of letters, “and to a fella as handsome as you? Well, isn’t she lucky.”
“Well, she just likes to be modest. One of the many qualities I adore about her.” 
Your body instantly froze as the man’s low timbre filled the inn. The shuffling of mail halted as terror shot down your spine.
Slowly raising your panicked eyes, they only seized to grow wider as they glazed over the back-turned individual standing opposite Edith. Shifting his stance, he uncrossed his arms and lowered them to his sides, the crisply up-twisted black button-down sleeves framed in and nearly made it impossible for you not to take in the sight of the recognisable ink that slithered out from under the hem, curled around the honied skin of his forearm and ended right on the back of his ring adorned hand. 
As the letters fell from your grip and casketed over the desk and onto the floor like a fallen jenga tower, the dull commotion managed to catch the pair’s attention as Edith’s hooded eyes trained upon your frozen frame and to your horror, the very reason for you being back here in the first place, turned around as well to spot you. 
“Oh,” a chillingly perfect smile spread across Preston’s lips, “hey, doll,” his tone ever casual as if he’d just talked to you two minutes ago, “there you are.” 
With your heart nearly bursting out of your chest, you didn’t even register that your feet had begun to move before you reached the backdoor out through the sunroom. 
Ripping it open, you sprinted out and over the porch, your speed only increasing as the dewy grass stained your shoes. 
Your eyes were wild, raking across the terrain, franticly attempting to come up with a plan as you went, but swiftly they locked upon where the thick forest began to bloom just beyond the patchy field that stretched between it and the inn’s garden. 
But as you glanced back over your shoulder, the panicked plan of escape withered and died as you spotted your ex marching through the sunroom, his visage clear through the latticed glass of the door. 
Whipping your head around, you spotted the small decrepit tool shed just a few paces to your left. Rushing to the rickety structure, you sucked in a sharp breath as your desperate push to one of the tattered double doors caused the faintest of clangs to reverberate from the rusty dinner bell that decorated the outside as an echo of the past. 
Gingerly shutting the door after you slipped inside, careful as to not evoke any more alarms and ruin your hiding spot, the lack of a lock on the simple doors had completely slipped your memory as your blurry vision stared down at the rudimentary pull handles and nothing else.
Hyperventilating and nearly feeling like you’d faint, you instead pulled over a dust-covered table and pushed it up against the exit, a few screws rattling and rolling off it as it settled in its new place.
Eyes transfixed on the doors, your feet began to back up, not halting till the rough wood of the far side wall stopped you. Reaching into your pocket, you blindly fished out your phone and dialled up the only number you could think of. 
“Hey, I was just about to call you,” Frank’s contrasting tone flowed out from the receiver, “thought I’d maybe swing by when I'm done here in town–…” although his genuine words abruptly ceased as a shuttering cry trembled from your lips, “…Y/n? What’s wrong?”
Your body shook so fiercely that keeping a hold of your phone proved to be a daunting task.  
“F-Frank,” you sobbed. 
“What, what is it?”
“…he’s here. He’s here,” you uttered shakily through your tears, “I walked into the lobby and there he was, I–, fuck…” you squeezed your eyes shut a moment, “Frank, what do I do?”
“Alright, listen to me,” his tone changed in an instant, “did he see you?”
“Y-yes,” you tried your best to keep your voice hushed. 
“Where are you?” 
“I hid in the old shed out back, but, shit, I'm not sure if–” 
Your fear then came to fruition as the doors suddenly rustled, bumping against the makeshift blockade before the attempt was dropped and a low knock instead found your ears. 
“He’s here,” you shuttered, your words barely above a whisper.
“Doll?” Preston’s voice seeped through the rotten wood, “I know that you’re in there,” he tried to shove the doors open once more, the whole world seeming to quake at his attempt. 
Eyes darting around the dim space, you spotted a small broken window to your left. Raising up your elbow, all of the adrenaline that pumped throughout your veins didn’t even let you register the pain as you slammed it against the remaining bits of jagged glass that were stuck to the window, as well as when the remaining short shards stabbed your palms and scratched up the screen of your phone as you desperately began to crawl out.��
“Come on, just open up the door, I don’t have time for any childish games.” 
The sudden sound of the door crashing open and the table scraping across the floor shot straight into your bones. 
Already halfway out, your knee bent up to hoist the remaining half of your shaky form out of the narrow opening, but just as you twisted to do so, a bruising grip grabbed hold of the leg and tugged you back inside, sending you crashing down upon the concrete floor. 
Motes of dust seemed suspended in the air as you coughed on the cold ground. Steadying yourself with your bloodied palms, your hazy vision found your phone by your side, shattered and completely dark. 
Seizing the crown of your locks, he yanked you back up to your feet.
“Now why would you do something like that, huh?” he uttered in such a mundane tone that you’d almost rather have him yell. Dragging you with him towards the doors and still hung agape on the rusty hinges, he grabbed a petite shovel that rested on the messy table and jammed the wooden shaft through the loops of the two handles. Gliding his dominant hand up your frame as he backed you up, the long fingers swiftly enveloped your throat as your back slammed against a wall, “I just wanna have a little conversation with you,” like splintery sandpaper, the rough wood scraped against your spine, and your eyes squeezed shut, “uh uh,” the stinging grip he had on your hair loosened, drifting his knuckles down your cheek in a cruel caress as he demanded, “look at me when I’m talking to you,” your whole frame jerked as you felt him land a harsh slap across your cheek, “show me those pretty eyes,” and your bloodshot glare blinked open, “there,” he wiped the tears that trickled down your face, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” your gaze flickered down to the ominous ink that glazed the appendage clasped around your airway. The head of the snake that decorated the back of his palm nearly looked like it was about to come alive and bite into your jugular vein, “you know, if you wanted to go on a little trip back home, all you had to do was say so, we could have figured something out.” 
Soon, your hands fluttered up to warily drift on either side of his, a shift that caused his jaw to clench. 
“Doll,” he glared down at your lacking jewel, “where’s your ring? Did you misplace it again? If you keep doing that, then I’m just gonna think you don’t like it,” his head tilted to the side in an almost sombre manner, “what, was the diamond not big enough? If you want something more showy, you know all you have to do is ask, money’s just money. Maybe a sapphire? You could look like Princess Diana. Hell, if you want the real thing, I know a guy,” his face slowly inched closer to yours, “I would do anything for you, you know that right?” he proclaimed with an eerie smile upon his lips, “anything, that’s how much I love you. Even if you can’t always wrap your simple little head around the reasoning in the moment,” his free fingers moved to brush some of your dishevelled hair into place, “it’s always because I love you.”
“Preston, please,” your voice was low as you gasped, fretful fingers lightly tapping against his unyielding grip, “you’re hurting me.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” he warned softly, rage crackling in his fiery gaze, “you don’t do that,” ignoring your struggling, he went back to wistfully fixing your hair, “you just stand there, like the pretty doll you are and be perfect for me.”
“C-can’t breathe–”
“Oh, you can’t?” his brows furrowed mockingly, “is this better?” he asked as his ring-adorned fingers tightened around your throat and squeezed so taut that no air could reach your lungs, “you are mine,” he pressed his lips to your cheek as your eyes fluttered and your limbs fought against the inevitable fate of shortly passing out, “you will always be fucking mine.”
But just as the world began to slip out from under you, a loud crash found your ears. Forcing your eyes to open, you witnessed as the door got kicked in, the improvised lock shattering into shards from the blow and scattering across the dirty ground.
Glaring over his shoulder, Preston exclaimed, “who the fuck are you?” 
Only looming in the doorway for a fragment of a second, Frank didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer as he rushed to rip Preston off of you.
As you crumbled to the ground, painful coughs escaped your frame. The shed still felt like it spun beneath you as your hazy gaze fluttered up to see Frank pin Preston against the wall. As if you were underwater, their voices seemed miles away as you watched Frank’s callused fist repeatedly collide with the side of your ex’s face. 
This wasn’t how you wanted it to happen. Every thunderous crack prompted a dreadful pit to dig itself within your gut. You weren’t doubting that Preston didn’t deserve this, but you had also come to learn a fragment of the truth of just how few of those punches it took for Frank to have an individual no longer breathing.  
Frantically casting your gaze everywhere and anywhere, past the garden, out in the driveway, the faint sight of the sheriff, lunch in hand, tossing his scarf around his neck and strolling back to his car, found your fuzzy vision.
Stumbling, you crawled out the door and weakly pulled yourself up enough to reach the short rope that hung from the old bell, the looming unconsciousness steadily catching up to you as you strained to do so. 
Ringing the bell once, twice, and on the third time, just as you saw Otto whip his head around in your direction, your vision finally faded to complete darkness as you crumbled to the ground. 
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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percyjackson-post · 5 months
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The Seven as Minecraft player types
Annabeth- The builder. You would think the game's limits would at least prove somewhat of a challenge to her, but she’s somehow mastered the ability to make builds that don’t even seem to be made of squares anymore. You just know she’s one of those people making those giant castles where you have to turn up your render distance to even see them fully.
Leo- Redstone builder. He'll spend the first hour in the mines, but the minute he walks out, he's ready to go to work. He and Annabeth are a force to be reckoned with when they start working together. They will have you sitting there trying to figure out how what you just saw was a part of Minecraft and not some entirely different game.
Hazel- The farmer. She hates going anywhere near the mines, but she’s got the most impressively efficient farm systems you’ve ever seen. All of this is for her real end goal of creating the fastest horse possible on every single world.
Frank- The Pvper. He’s a force to be reckoned with and most of the others have given up trying to beat him in any capacity. He spends most of his time working as a bodyguard for Hazel or collecting mob drops for the others needs.
Jason- The Explorer, the minute he joins a world, that boy is GONE. You ask him where he is at any point, and he’s at least 5k blocks from the nearest player. He will eventually show up with the most insane loot, but that is just so he can drop things off before vanishing again.
Piper- The Achievement Hunter. She is locked into this game and surprisingly great at it. You’d think she’s speed running with how quickly she’s flying through the game. She will always be the first to the nether and the end and almost never has a house, just a collection or weird builds designed specifically to help her with whatever she's working on
Percy- The resource collector. He’s much more likely to bounce between different activities than the others. One minute he’s trying to fight Frank, the next he’s helping Piper try and get some very specific achievement, and then he’s desperately trying to find Jason. The minute Annabeth even mentions she wants a certain type of block, he is laser-focused and won’t even think about doing anything else until he’s got an inventory full of said items.
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amhrosina · 2 years
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The Four Times Frank Almost Asks You to Marry Him, and the One Time He Does. (Frank Castle x Reader)
MASTERLIST // TAG LIST REQUEST FORM
A/N: I love Frank Castle so much, I just want to cry. I'm currently watching the Astros lose to the Mariners, so here's some soft!frank to make everyone feel better. This is just a reminder that if you get a response from @yourfriendhenrywinter, that's me on my main account! They're linked together so I can't reply to comments as amhrosina atm!
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Summary: I feel like the title of this makes the summary self-explanatory. This is four times Frank almost asks you to marry him, and then the one time he actually does it.
(Warnings: vigilante!reader (similar to Black Cat, but not actually Black Cat lol), socialiate!reader, mentions of cuts/blood/bruising - the usual Frank stuff, mentions of grief/death, guns, soft!FrankCastle, a wild Matt Murdock briefly makes an appearance)
The first time Frank almost asked you to marry him was after he’d shown up on your doorstep, beaten and battered to high hell. You’d ushered him in the door, still wiping the sleep from your eyes. It was almost four in the morning, and you had to be up in two hours to get ready for a meeting with your agent, but you didn’t complain to him about it once.  
You did, however, tear him a new one for patrolling without backup. He tried to hide his grin as you stitched a particularly nasty cut up, being so gentle with your hands and so stern with your mouth.  
“Frank, it’s dangerous. I mean,” you shook your head and grabbed another piece of gauze, “you could’ve called, you know? I would’ve met you somewhere. Watched your back. Shot a few guys.” You shot him a pointed look as you focused your attention on a small cut under his jaw.  
“I didn’t want to bother you unless I had to. You have work soon, sweetheart.”  
“I don’t care. Better for me to be tired than for you to be dead in a ditch somewhere.” 
He watched you as you moved from injury to injury, cleaning, patching, and even suturing a few cuts. Your fluidity was graceful and enamoring, something Frank adored about you. How it looked like you flowed from room to room, barely placing your feet on the ground before you were already taking your next step. How you could take out a team of trained gunmen without ever having to touch the ground. And when you turned that graceful attention on him, he was a goner. He had never felt something as gentle as your hands, except maybe your love for him.  
You began to clean up your bathroom counter, scooping empty gauze packages into your trash can. He rose to help you, but your stern gaze had him promptly sitting back down. 
He murmured your name, intent on grasping your full attention so that he could tell you just how much he loved you. How his heart ached for you when you weren’t with him. How your love had burrowed its way into his soul, healing the missing piece of his heart. He would always love Maria and his kids, but he also knew he couldn’t sustain himself on anger and vengeance forever.  
A knock sounded at the door before he could figure out where to begin. You made your way to the door, grabbing your gun off your side table before looking through the peephole. Frank was right behind you, hand resting on your waist, ready to pull you aside if the person at the door meant any harm.  
You sighed, uncocking your gun and opening the door.  
“Hey Devil Man.” You smiled. Frank narrowed his eyes at the man dressed in red.  
“I smelt blood.” You nodded, like Matt’s timing wasn’t completely inconvenient, and opened the door wider, inviting him in.  
“Since the whole gang is here, I’ll put on a pot of coffee.”  
You walked into the kitchen, tinkering around for coffee mugs and creamer. Frank continued to glare at Matt, who was grinning wide like a cat.  
“Cockblock,” Frank grumbled, rolling his eyes.  
//
The second time Frank almost asked you to marry him, you were standing over an unconscious Russian mob member, panting because you had just whacked said Russian in the temple with your gun.  
“That’s what I thought you said,” you huffed, stomping away from the guy, who was tied to a chair and missing most of his clothing.  
Frank hadn’t expected you to lash out the way you did. The Russian was going on and on about Maria, Lisa, and Frank Jr., saying they deserved what they got, calling them weak. Frank was beyond letting some mobster rile him up about his past, but it apparently didn’t sit right with you.  
You had stalked towards him, predator stalking prey, and asked him to repeat himself, a little louder so you could hear him. The guy had said three words before you raised the gun and smashed it into the side of his head.  
Frank grinned, watching you stomp around and mumble to yourself. He heard parts of your rant; picked out words like “common decency” and “how dare he”.  
“What’s so funny, big bad punisher?” You raised an eyebrow at him. 
“’s nothing, sweetheart. I just love you.” He averted his eyes from yours out of habit, but you didn’t mind. Frank’s been betrayed so many times in his life that allowing himself to be vulnerable and trust anyone was a feat, let alone confessing his love for you so openly. You returned his smile, leaning over to poor a bucket of water on the Russian, who came to kicking and sputtering.  
‘Right,’ Frank thought, ‘back to work.”  
//
The third time Frank almost asked you to marry him, he was sitting on the floor of your apartment, watching you answer questions on the morning news. You were pretty well known around New York. Your parents, who were wealthy real estate investors, had left you everything they owned in their will, which skyrocketed your status among New York socialites. If only they knew what you got up to once the sun went down.   
A photo of the two of you holding hands outside of a bar was leaked online, causing all kinds of controversy among the elites. Your relationship with Frank had been kept from the public, which served both of you guys well, but when the photo had been released, your agent demanded that you make a statement, denying any type of relationship with him.  
Frank had walked you to the door that morning, kissing you on your forehead and telling you to do whatever you needed to do. He wouldn’t let elite assholes hurt his feelings or his relationship with you. 
You walked on set confidently; chin held high as you were bombarded with questions about your relationship with the vigilante Frank Castle. You cleared your throat, silencing the questions.  
“I know you have many questions. I wish I could say I cared enough to answer them,” you paused, “My privacy has been violated. A private moment that I was sharing with my partner has been turned into a...a shitshow, really.” Your voice was crisp as it came through the tv speakers. The corners of Frank’s lips turned up. You had just cursed on live television, and that wasn’t even the worst thing you had done yet today. 
“Frank Castle is not a bad man.” Your firm voice boomed across the silent set. “Frank Castle was abandoned by his country. The country that he served, with honor, for eight years. The country that slaughtered his family in broad daylight.” 
Frank swallowed thickly. This was not on the script your agent had sent you. 
“I think most of you don’t even care that I’m dating Frank. You just want a story that will sell papers.” You rolled your eyes. "Anyways, my point is, if any of you went through what Frank went through, you would wish you had the courage to do the same thing he did.” 
The questions started up again, and you sent a sympathetic look towards someone off camera, no doubt your agent who was likely fuming.  
“My relationship is my business, but for those who are wondering,” you slightly paused, making eye contact with the camera, “I’m in love with Frank Castle, and I don’t really care if anyone has a problem with that.” Your voice was soft, flittering through the speakers directly into Frank’s chest.  
He knew that this would likely damage your reputation with the elites, but it was clear that you didn’t care. He let out a hearty laugh, sipping his coffee and getting up to make you breakfast. If he had been able to go with you to the news station, he would probably be on his knee right now, begging for your hand.  
‘Another time, then,” Frank grinned, ‘another time.’ 
//
The fourth time Frank almost asked you to marry him, you were knelt down, knees in the soft ground, cleaning a particularly difficult glob of sap off a gravestone. He was not expecting to find you here, among his family’s graves. He certainly wasn’t expecting to find you cleaning the gravestones.  
Frank had come by to talk to Maria, which always grounded him. He wanted to apologize to his kids for not protecting them when he should have. He also wanted to ask Maria for her forgiveness for loving someone else after her passing. It wasn’t a conflict in his head; he knew that Maria would have wanted him to find happiness, but that didn’t stop him from feeling guilty about how deep his love for you ran.  
He inhaled sharply when he realized what you were doing. Your voice carried down the hill a little bit, hitting him squarely in the heart. You were talking to Maria.  
“Was he always this grumpy?” You asked her, smiling bashfully. “He likes to act tough, but I know he’s a big teddy bear inside.” You wiped the top of the gravestone off, sitting back on your heels to observe your work. Sighing, you leaned back, moving into a crisscross position. 
“I’m so sorry this happened to your family, Maria.” You paused, resting your chin on your hands. “I hope it’s okay that I love him. I really do. He’s...happier than he used to be. When I first met him, I mean.”  
Frank blinked the tears that had gathered in his eyes. Overwhelmingly, and simultaneously, grief and love passed through him like a wave, nearly knocking him over.  
You tilted your head, looking at the two graves next to Marias; Lisa and Frank Jr.’s resting places.  
“Your dad misses you. You probably know that, but I see it in him all the time. The way he lights up when he gets to talk about you guys. I hope he never stops. Weirdly, I feel like I know you, even though we never met.”  
You leaned back, searching through your bag for something. It nearly broke Frank when you pulled out a bouquet of peonies, Maria’s favorite flowers.  
“I’ll take care of him,” you promised, setting the flowers down at the base of Maria’s grave. You ran your fingers over her name, etched beautifully into the stone.  
Frank’s knees almost gave out. He fumbled with the little black box in his pocket, vowing to ask you to marry him as soon as he finished talking to Maria.  
Your phone began to ring, startling both you and Frank. You held the phone between your ear and shoulder and began to pack your things away, chattering to whoever was on the other end of the line about a contract you hadn’t signed.  
Frank was a little ashamed that he hid from you as you made your way towards the exit of the cemetery, but he figured that your conversation with Maria was something you didn’t want him to know about. He was so sure about his decision that it choked him up. He was going to ask you to marry him very soon. That he was sure about.  
When Frank asked you to marry him, you were being coaxed awake by a soft voice, hands wondering over your back and brushing the hair from your eyes.  
“Sweetheart,” Frank’s voice was like honey to your ears, “I’m sorry for waking you, but this is too important to wait until morning.”  
You rubbed your eyes and clicked the lamp closest to you on. Frank was crouched down by your bed with a small smile on his face.  
“What’s wrong, Frankie?” You asked, sitting up and checking him for cuts or bruises. 
“Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart.” He let out a soft laugh. “I just wanted to ask you to marry me, that’s all.”  
He slowly set an open ring box on your lap. Your eyes went wide, searching his face for deception.  
“What?” You gasped. This was unexpected, to say the least. 
“I don’t think I could take another day without putting a ring on your finger...” he searched for the right words, even though he had been practicing this speech for hours, “I don’t have much to offer you, but I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.”  
Your eyes grew teary as you smiled, palming his cheek.  
“Oh, Frankie,” you mumbled, “Of course I’ll marry you, you beautiful, beautiful man.”  
Frank let out a sigh of relief, tension leaving his shoulders, and smiled wide. Your grin matched his.  
He plucked the ring out of the box, grasping your left hand and pushing the ring onto your ring finger. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into you and kissing his cheek.  
“I love you so much, Frank,” you mumbled into his shoulder.  
“I love you, Sweetheart.”  
Frank’s eyebrows knit together in confusion as you jumped out of bed, hurriedly running towards the kitchen. 
“Where are you going?” He called after you. 
“I have to call Karen and tell her!” You responded, voice carrying across the apartment. 
“It’s three o’clock in the morning,” he said, laughing, “Can’t it wait until later?”
End Note: I love the idea of Frank finding someone who he can trust and fully love after Maria's death. I hope if we ever see him in the MCU again, he'll be happy and healthy :'). Thank you for reading!
Requests are open!
Tag List:
@alexxavicry
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kastleexchange · 6 months
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Gifts are out, anonymously! Reveals in a few days, but for now
Come enjoy the content and leave some comments/kudos! Slow Disaster for @notquitecogent
Graphic edits and two tiny POV ficlets based on The National's 'You Were A Kindness'
Snapshot of an After for @zushigirl
Karen and Frank both deserve an after, together. This is just a snapshot, a single moment captured, in a lifetime of moments, in the after.
interlude for @woahpip
He remembers the heat of her palm on his shoulder from the elevator. How close she’d been there, too.
i would stay forever if you say don't go for @sarma
Karen has never made much of a fuss about her birthday. Not since she left Vermont. Not since Kevin. But this year might be a little bit different.
and this is the after for @c-sand
Frank gets the call that changes everything.
the past is a grotesque animal for @ninzied
this started as an AU along the lines of wandavision but became more of a haunting instead.
Groundhog Day for @evilbunnyking
Groundhog Day is real. Karen finds this out after her latest story makes her a target of the mob. Maybe Frank Castle can help her fix things this time…
Through an Open Window for @heartonfirewrites
She likes watching him when he’s like this. When he finally takes a moment to breathe in and take a moment away from his self inflicted internal torment. She understands it. She understands him and the way he works, because she does the same.
to the radiant sun I surrender myself again for @garglyswoof
Karen Page is a person who knows things. She’s never found a mystery she didn’t want solved: about the world, the universe, herself.
Reblog and let us know what you think!
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reblog-reblog666 · 1 year
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Reblog Masterlist 1
Matt Murdock / Daredevil
Alleycat series masterlist - Fluff, Smut
Not your average male fantasy - Smut
Kneel at the alter - Smut
Lost - Smut
Bad dreams (hold me closer) - Angst, Smut
No better love - Fluffy Smut
Wicked games - Angst?, Smut
Need - Angst, Smut
Ease the pain - Hurt/Comfort, Smut
Coffee shop woes (1) - Fluff / First date jitters (2) - Fluff / Late night confessions (3) - Angst, Fluff
My darling, my baby. - Fluff, Smut
Lavender haze - Fluff
Lingering - Fluff
Tolerance - Fluff
Ask response - Smut
I just need you - Hurt/Comfort?, Almost Smut?
A slow day - Smut
Bandages - Fluff
Sub!Matt hcs - Smut
Good boys deserve to be taken care of (1) - Smut / (2) - Smut
Old fashioned - Smut
Feisty - Smut
Wordle - Fluff (OFC, Not Reader)
Matt as a bad priest hcs - Smut
Kneel. - Kinda Hurt/Comfort?, Fluff?
Michelangelo's Matthew - Fluff
Still here - Fluff
Daddy issues - Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Attention - Fluff
My own worst enemy - Angst, Hurt/Comfort
In the rearview - Angst, Hurt/Comfort
All I feel is you - Fluff
Castle in the sky - Fluff
Never an ear strain away - Fluff
Talk too much - Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Chaotic College!Matt hcs - Fluff
Nepenth - Hurt Comfort, Fluff
Forgiveness - Smut
Pain and pleasure - Smut
Sub Matt blurb - Smut
When the needle speaks (1) - Angst, Hurt Comfort / (2)
Stroke - Smut themes?
No interruption - Smut
Ours - Smut Blurb
Relax - Smut Blurb
I’ll be in good company - Hurt Comfort, Fluff
You’re somebody else - Angst
You are the best thing that’s ever been mine - Fluff that makes you cry
Matt Murdock x Autistic! Reader x Frank Castle hcs - Fluff, Hurt Comfort
Bruises - Hurt Comfort
Matt Murdock x Virgin!Reader hcs - Smut
Guardian Angel - Teen!Reader, Pregnant!Reader, Dad!Matt, Hurt Comfort
A real first kiss - Little bit of angst, Little bit of comfort, Fluff
Corruption of innocence (1) (2) - Smut
Anchor - Hurt Comfort, Autistic Reader
And then I met you (1) - Slight Angst, Fluff, Dad!Matt, Mom!Reader
Stained glass love series masterlist
Rooftops and vigilantes - Fluff? Idk what else to say (1) (2) (3)
You learn something new everyday… I guess - Fluff, angst?, hurt comfort?
Praise kink - Smut / Good girls finish first - Smut
Ours - Fluff, Comfort
Chase - Smut (1) (2)
Frank Castle / Punisher
Bad dreams (hold me closer) - Angst, Smut
Fashion show - Fluff
Jealousy - Smut
Forgiveness - Smut
Out of mind - Fluff
Ours - Smut Blurb
Matt Murdock x Autistic! Reader x Frank Castle hcs - Fluff, Hurt Comfort
Ours - Fluff, Comfort
Billy Russo
Penny for your thoughts - Smut
Jessie Pinkman
Celebrating Jessie’s birthday hcs - Fluff
Saul Goodman
His secretary but in a porno way - Smut
Peter Parker / Spiderman
Stim the stress away - Fluff, Neurodivergent Reader
Touch - Smut
Doughnuts - Fluff
Paparazzi - Dark! Peter, Smut, little fluff?
these violet delights - a dark! mob!peter tale [tasm peter vs kilgrave] - Angst, Dark Fic, Not x Reader, Dead Dove Do Not Eat
Darth Vader / Anakin Skywalker
The throne - Smut, Darth Vader
Derek Morgan
Size kink - Smut
BAU General
Autistic BAU reader hcs - Fluff, Hurt Comfort
Rick Grimes
Our moments - Fluff
Bruce Wayne / Batman
Missing you - Smut
Words greatest detective - Smut
Other
Yandere Butler x Autistic Reader hcs - Dark, Hurt Comfort
194 notes · View notes
Text
|| Star-Crossed ||
Pairing: Frank Castle x Female reader
W/c 13.3k
Tags/warnings: Romeo & Juliet style gangster forbidden love Punisher/Daredevil AU, super-protective Matt, Jack Murdock is alive and well, some pretty old fashioned chauvinistic values, violence and injury, (protected and unprotected) p in v sex, oral (f rec), *spoiler* (kids in the future).
Author's note: Aaaaah it's finally done! I started this in December 2022 and I've had to leave and come back to it several times trying to work out how I wanted it to go. Huge big massive thanks to @mindidjarin , @the-fox-den and @theradioactivespidergwen for all the beta help! 
If you enjoyed it, let me know!
Epilogue
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The Italians and the Irish. The Castigliones and the Murdocks. Two mob families that have been feuding for generations. One mired in dealing arms and the other in throwing deadly punches with them - running illicit underground fight clubs and loan sharking. 
Matthew Murdock was one of the best fighters in the entire city; after all he was the boxer Battlin' Jack Murdock's son. 'The Devil O' Hell's Kitchen' they called him. 
And he was your big brother.
He would certainly have some choice words for you if he knew where and who you were with right now.
"Princess, fuck, you're somethin' else y'know that?" 
Your body felt flushed with heat and bliss as you collapsed in Frank Castiglione's lap in the back seat of his car, laughing as his stubbled jaw tickles you when he kisses up and down your neck, like he's still hungry for you. 
"You say that every time Frank," you smile as you push yourself up off him, tutting as he ties up the condom and throws it out the fogged window before cleaning himself up.
Sometimes you have to pinch yourself to remind yourself that you aren’t dreaming. When the man that was so terrifying they gave him the nickname of 'The Punisher' was between your thighs, or you were between his, life felt like a fever dream. 
"I'll buy us a villa in the Lakes. You'd fuckin' love it there sweetheart, I just know it. You'll wake up and enjoy your morning coffee on the bedroom balcony overlooking the water. I'll treat you so goddamn right…"
The scene he painted with his words was so clear in your mind and yet- "Frank we can't -"
"Baby, you deserve more than what I can give you in a half hour in the back of my car."
You pretend not to hear, adjusting your dress to look a little more decent.
"Look me in the eyes and tell me this is enough for you.”
You sigh softly. You didn't need to see that puppy dog look of his to know life wasn’t fair.
"No Frankie, you know it's not, but I can't be with you like that… my father and Matty would kill you if I ran away to Italy with you!"
He tucks some of your disheveled hair behind your ear. "So you're just gonna keep leading me along like this, huh? I wanna be with you baby. I want you."
"Frankie I want you too, but they'll get suspicious if I spend any more time out and about. My da and brother think I'm taking a dance class right now."
He half snorts with laughter. "Yeah well when we 'dance' you do got some smokin' hot moves sweetheart; but I don't want you showin' them ones to anyone else."
"As if I would." You say with mock indignation. "Anyway, it's a good enough cover for why I'm always so worn out when I get home!"
Frank just smirks. "Let me at least take you dancing for real. Tell the old man you're going out with your girlfriends one night."
You roll your eyes. "Aye and if one of my da's men sees me out with you? You’ll be dead and I'll at least be locked up with a flippin' chastity belt forevermore after that!"
"Baby," He pleads and his words hit you in the heart and gut, "I've gotta be with you. We gotta find a way to make this work."
You push up off of him, frowning slightly. "The only way it could work is if you go straight. Get out of the family business and be respectable. Then maybe my da would at least listen to us instead of reaching for his gun."
He just laughs. "Me? Respectable? Well I wouldn't be able to give you trinkets like this if I was makin' a 'respectable' living now, could I?"
He produces a gold necklace from his waistcoat pocket and places it in your open palm, smiling at your surprise. It's a fine dainty sparkling chain with a little heart hanging from it. You turn the heart over and your breath catches in your throat as you read the small engraved letters 'FC' in flowing script.
You feel giddy. "Oh Frankie…" 
"Now you have my heart, sugar."
You want to scream out. Why did you have to go and fall in love with a boy from a crime family? Why did it have to be a Castiglione? It went against everything your two families stood for. Why did everything have to be so damn complicated?!
You lean forward to kiss him, fingers smoothing down his lapels. "Frank, I… I love it, but you know I can't wear it…" 
He nods, resigned. "Yeah, sure." It feels like you've just kicked a puppy. You lift up your heel and slip it into your shoe for safekeeping.
"But I'll keep it with me, always."
He at least manages a smile and you kiss him again, chiding him as he sneaks his hands in places that'd make a priest blush.
"I've gotta go…"
"Ten more minutes, five even! Please babygirl, I'll make it worth your while." He pleads so prettily for the son of one of the cities' biggest mobsters and you very nearly crumble.
You extricate yourself from his grasp, trying to stay focused. If you got home late there would be questions. Your family was very protective of you. "You always make it worth my while Frankie."
"Dancing. This Friday. Wear one of your pretty dresses… mm, and don't bother with the panties."
"Frank!" 
He hands you your coat, his lips pressed into a smile that you want to kiss off his face. "Can't blame me for tryin'. Fuck, I'm missin' you already." 
"I'll seeya. Be careful." You say opening the car door and looking around to check the coast is clear before scooching out. 
"Friday, yeah?" He calls after you hopefully.
You turn and flash him a grin as your heels clack away down the alleyway. "Friday."
~
"How was yer dancin'?"
You just about manage to stop yourself from jumping six feet up in the air as Matthew appeared seemingly out of nowhere as you closed the front door behind you.
"Oh excitin' and tirin', as usual." You reply, hanging up your coat and placing your keys on the sideboard.
"Where's da?" You ask, noting that his coat was missing from its usual place.
"Out. He's meetin' some new guy. One of' the big fight brokers from the other side o' town. He can fix us up with some top names, reckons we can make some real good money."
"Why aren't you with him, Matty? You bein' the best one an all…"
"Yeah I'm goin'. Wanted to make sure you got home okay first. You've been getting back later 'n later each time yer out. Da was worried. An I was too."
You laugh. "Oh Matty, you're so damn sweet,  but I'm fine as you can well see. Us girls just love to gab on after, you know that."
He didn't look convinced but he nods all the same and that's when you see the blood drip down from behind his ear.
"Matthew yer bleedin'! I didn't know you had a fight tonight?" Your hands reach for his shoulders to keep him still as you have a closer look and then guide him towards the bathroom.
He shrugs. "Wasn't somethin' I planned exactly, one of the fuckin' Castiglione lads showed up at the gym. 
"What? Who was it?" 
It couldn't have been Frank, there was no way, but that didn't stop your heart creeping up your throat.
"One o' the younguns, just shit talkin' and tryin' to stir up trouble. Managed to clip me before I booted his arse down the street. Christ, I'd love a real excuse to fuckin' kill the lot of em…"
You stay silent, focusing your attention on gently cleaning the small cut and sticking a plaster over it.
"There. It's only a wee one, thankfully."
"Sis, yer a doll. Always lookin' out fer me." He pecks you on the cheek before grabbing his own coat and heading out. "We'll be back afore eleven. Stay inside okay?"
"Alright Matty, see you later."
~
It felt like you had been waiting months by the time Friday finally rolled around. You met the girls, Karen, Marci and Dinah at the dancehall, trying your best to pay attention and stay engaged in conversation but you found yourself constantly scanning the bar for him.
You freeze as you feel a hand on your waist and you whip around with your fist raised, ready to clock the slimeball who had dared to touch you. 
"Woah, sweetheart!" Frank raises his hands in submission and chuckles as your expression changes from pissed to adoring in a fraction of a second.
"Frankie." You purr as he slides his arm further around your waist and takes your softening fist in his hand.
"If you're done with the fightin', may I have this dance?" He asks, leading you onto the crowded dance floor. 
You nod and flash him a smile, trying to calm your excitement and allow yourself to melt into the solid mass of him, as you drift further away from your group of friends. "Missed you Frankie…" 
He pulls you even closer and you can feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of your dress.
"Missed you more. You look so gorgeous darlin'," he says. He dances with you for a while, and oh, he's got all the moves - spinning you around and dipping you for several songs before he's guiding you towards a quiet corner away from prying eyes. You giggle as he noses your ear and kisses your neck, and when you meet his hungry mouth his fingertips dance up the outside of your bare thigh making you shiver.
"Someone might see!" You warn. You should break away, but you're eager for his touch and he knows it.
"Don't care. I need a taste baby. Been thinkin' bout you all week. Can you feel that?" He asks, and it's a dumb question because he's rock hard against you and it's driving you insane. Your mouth goes dry as he takes your hand and holds it over the front of his pants. "That's what you do to me princess, fuck… that's what you do."
You glance around, your nerves on fire with the excitement of getting caught but no-one is paying the two of you any mind. 
"What about the bathrooms?" you pant into his mouth as he kisses you breathless again.
He grins, trying to hold in his groan as you squeeze his clothed cock in your hand. "What about 'em sweet girl?" He teases, knowing full well what you're implying.
As soon as the stall door's locked you pounce and it throws him for a loop. He's usually the one to take control but he'll be damned if he won't let you get what you want. You place both of his hands underneath your skirt right on your bare ass and you swear you could get addicted to seeing the expression that appears on his face as he realises you've honoured his request and you're not wearing a shred of underwear. 
He squeezes your warm flesh as you unbuckle his belt and open his pants, taking his thick cock in your hand and giving him a few firm strokes. You slip your hand into his pocket and find what you're looking for, tearing open the packet hurriedly and rolling the condom onto him before you hike up your leg and urge him to pull you up. 
It's a struggle for you both not to moan at the sensation as he sinks inside you. He turns you both so your back's against the stall, wrapping your legs around him and bracing his own legs wider so he can fuck you the way you crave. 
You hear people coming into the toilets, laughing and chatting but it's no big deal, it's the kind of place that young lovers meet to spend some 'quality time' together, and you two were no different. You'd asked your friends to let you know, unlikely as it was, if any of your family appeared, so you felt as if this was the closest to having a relaxed intimate time with Frank as you could get.
You're at eye level with him as he thrusts into you against the stall, you love being able to see his face when he's inside you and watch him try to hold it together when he comes apart. 
"Frankie," you moan, "oh fuck… feels so good!" 
He kisses you again and it's so possessive you almost lose it, his hand reaches up to grip the top of the stall to give him more leverage to drive into you deeper and harder. 
"Princess, you're a fuckin' dream. Touch yourself baby, make it feel good, that's right baby, let me feel it too."
You do as he says, unable to curb your impassioned cries as it takes almost no time at all to near the peak of your pleasure. 
"F-fuck Frank- ohh god-!"
He curls in against you, his breath hot and heavy, letting go as he feels you spasm around him with the last few desperate thrusts. 
"Marry me." He pants, still holding you tightly up against the stall door.
It takes a few seconds for the post orgasmic fog to clear from your brain so that you can process the words you think you just heard coming out of Frank's mouth.
"W-what?"
"Marry me darlin'.  I'm askin' you to make me an honest man. Will you?" 
"In the toilets? While you're still inside me?!" 
He chuckles. "Hell, I know it ain't Paris, I just… I love you."
You beam from ear to ear, laughing too. Suddenly it doesn't matter where you are, you're just overflowing with unfiltered glee at his words.
"Oh Frank, I love you too!" his lips meet yours over and over, raining kisses all over your face until you're both laughing so hard you have to slip out of his embrace.
"You uh, haven't given me an answer, sweetheart..."
You can't help your sigh as you press your palm to the side of his face. "I told you before baby, a miracle would have to happen for us to be married. I want to, Frankie, I really do more than anything but I just don't see how." 
He kisses you on the forehead before he cleans up and helps you fix your hair and dress. "Yeah, I know." He sighs.
~
You practically hop, skip and jump up the stairs when you get home, so elated with Frank's admission of love for you that the prospect of never being able to actually marry him couldn't even drag your mood down. Matt comes around the bottom of the staircase to see what all the noise was about.
"A good night then, love?" 
"Oh Matty, it was just perfect!"
He smiles wide. "Glad to hear it pet, love seein' you so happy."
You were dancing around so much that you failed to notice the necklace Frank had given you fall out of your shoe and land on one of the stairs.
But Matt noticed it. You'd disappeared into your room by the time he'd picked it up intending to give it back to you. But then he ran his thumb over the charm again and again, gritting his teeth harder each time he read the engraving. He couldn't believe it. 
He tried to stop the rage he felt rising from his gut, but this wouldn't stand, that was for sure. His little sister would not and could not ever be associated with that Castiglione scum. Matt's hands instinctively curled into fists. He was going to hunt down that son of a bitch and after he was done with him he knew he would never be going near you again.
~
When you come out of the shower and dress, the house is deadly quiet. You knew your dad was likely down at the gym training with the boys, but you called out for Matt, eager to hear about his next fixture. You loved your brother like no one else. After your mum was gone you were brought even closer together, most days you were never apart and even when he started fighting he'd always have the time to teach you some technique and even let you cut loose on him at the gym after school. He was so very protective of you when you started seeing boys, none of them were ever good enough for you and if he had his way you'd probably die a spinster. 
"Matty?" His jacket was still on the peg. Then a glint on the sideboard caught your eye. The necklace.
Oh no. 
Fuck, it must have fallen out earlier and he'd found it. You picked it up, brushing your thumb over Frank's initials. Your heart dropped like a stone as you knew what Matt was likely to do.
When you reach the warehouses down at the waterfront, you could already hear the commotion. A large circle of people stood near one of the huge open loading doors, mostly Castiglione men and some women, shouting and gesturing towards the center. You run up, forcing your way through the crowd to find the cause. 
Your eyes find Frank first. He'd look so fine if this was any other situation. The muscles on his chest and arms rippled as he stripped down to his vest. He was wrapping his hands with cloth as a few of his clan around him amped him up with whoops and hollers.
Opposite him stood your brother, still in his regular clothes with his shirt sleeves rolled up.
Your stomach lurched with a rioting combination of butterflies and bile. 
They were going to fight.
"No!" You shout, pushing your way past the crowd and running between them. You're not sure which one of them you were yelling at, your heart tearing itself in two with the prospect of what was about to happen.
"Go home wee girl," Matt barks, and Frank catches your eye. 
"He's right for once baby, get out of here. You don't need to watch me beat his ass."
"Frankie, no! Just let me talk to him, you don't have to do this, you don't need to fight!" You wheel around to face your brother. Your blood. 
"Please Matty, you don't understand! Stop," your eyes burn with the tears that threaten to flow. "Please don't, you can't… I love him!" 
You try pushing him back but it has little effect. He keeps on staring past you in the direction of Frank, his head tilting minutely as he listens to him tie off the last of the wrap and clap his hands together, testing them.
"I think I understand enough. An' I'll be talkin' to ya later, that's for fuckin' sure, now get on home!" Matt growls.
You shiver, feeling sick with anger and the sheer frustration that the two men you love with all your heart were going to fight because of you. It wasn't heroic, it wasn't romantic, it was raw and ugly and you wished you could do something to stop them.
"You wanna set rules?" Frank asks.
Matt almost snorts with laughter. "Rules? Rules?! Don't think ya know the meanin' o' the word seein' as you've had yer greasy mitts on my fuckin' sister!"
Frank wasn't going to publicly shame you by telling him that it was you who had come to him. No, if there was ever a hope for the two of you he'd play this clean and right by your family like you wanted.
"Fine." He nods, smacking his fists together and starting to circle his opponent. "C'mon then Murdock, if you wanna do it this way, ding-ding. Let's go."
They drew up fast to each other and it was Frank who threw the first punch. Matt easily ducked it, dodging to the side and countering with his own punch that you couldn't see land through your tears; but it hit its mark as you hear that sick sound that you would usually relish when you watched the betting fights. But not today. 
You run back home in a daze, unable to think of anything other than what if Matt kills him, and what will your father do to the two of you if he doesn't? 
Tears continue to blind you and your heart is a dull, burning weight in your chest as you reach the front door. You can hear the TV on in the living room so you run upstairs avoiding the inevitable questions. You throw yourself on your bed and cry into your pillow until you finally hear the front door slam. 
The voices of your father and Matthew are muffled at first and then your da is shouting. You cower as you expect him to come crashing through your door but it doesn't happen. A little while later there's a soft knocking at your door and Matt's voice floats through. "Little dove…  c'mon lass, it's over."
You let out a loud sob, the horror of what he might have done washing over you, he'd never killed anyone before but… 
"I hate you!" You push yourself up for long enough to scream through the door before burying your face in your bed covers again; pained heaving breaths wracking through your body as you cry your heart out.
He comes in and sits down on the edge of your bed as you turn away towards the wall. "You'll love me again soon enough. I've saved you a life o' heartbreak angel. He knows he won't be comin' near you again."
He sounds stuffed up, like his nose might be broken. Good. The words do little to stem the flood of anger you feel but now you know Frank is alive at least. "You can't stop me from seeing him, and you sure as hell can't control who I love!" 
Matt smooths his hand over your arm but you jerk away from his touch.
"Here, shush now, you want Da rippin ya a new one? I've only just managed to calm 'im down cause he's none too happy about the situation. You're a smart girl, you know this can't be. A Murdock and a Castiglione?" Matt spat the name like the taste of it in his mouth disgusted him. "It's bloody ridiculous! There's never been a time we've not been dead set against each other. And ya better not have been tellin' him any of our business… Da will go properly spare then."
"I’ve never told him anything! I don’t care about the stupid business because I'm in love with him Matty! I love Frank and none of you can change that."
Matt sighs deeply, his voice hardens. "That's enough now! You'll get over him eventually. There are plenty of better men out there that deserve ya anyways. I won't hear any more about it, an neither will Da. It's finished."
He makes you feel like a child and you can't stop your tears. You cry softly, your blanket damp and crumpled from gripping it so hard. 
Matt gets up. "We'll see ya downstairs for tea."
The door closes, and you feel more alone than ever before.
When you finally drag yourself downstairs to eat something your mouth drops open as you see Matt's face. Your earlier suspicions were correct, Frank had managed to break his nose, he had more than a couple of cuts on his brows too that Da had stitched for him, and from the way he moved around the table you could tell he was decently bruised. The fact that Frankie had gone down swinging was little comfort when it was your own kin hurt.
You ate in silence. Neither you nor your father were ready to look each other in the eye, nevermind speak. On the way to your room you looked for the necklace but it was gone. 
You cried yourself to sleep.
~
You spent most of the day alone in your room. Your father came in to check on you, but as soon as you opened your mouth to talk about Frank, he shook his head, slammed the door and left you angry and resentful all over again.
At night you found your bedroom window locked but that wasn’t going to put a stop to your plans. Using a hair grip and a lot of determination, you jimmied it open and climbed out and down the fire escape. Nelson's was where you were headed, they owned almost the entire meatpacking district and their main shop wasn't far from the house. Everyone went there so you knew you might be able to find out about Frank. 
The bell tinkled as you entered and Foggy was just closing up. But as soon as he saw it was you, he pulled off his apron and leapt over the counter to wrap his arms around you.
"Oh honey!"
"You heard?"
"You're surprised?" He asks as he leads you to the back of the shop so you're not seen. "It's pretty much all anyone's talking about. Actually thought your old man would have you locked in."
"Yeah well, so did he…"
Foggy laughs at that. He's Matt's best friend and practically family to you, and out of all of them he's the one that doesn't treat you like you're still a kid. You could trust him not to grass you up for sneaking out.
"Foggy, please tell me, have you heard anything about Frank, is he okay?"
"Well your bro didn't pull his punches…  He's pretty banged up from what I've heard, and uh, he’s in the infirmary. That much I do know."
Your heart feels like it's banging against your ribs and your stomach twists into a tight knot. "Oh my god, Foggy it's that bad? Wh- I need to- I need to see him!"
Foggy places his hands gently on your shoulders trying his best to calm you down. "Hey, it's okay. As far as I know it was just a precaution for concussion. Um, and for stitches, cracked ribs, and stuff. I know it's not what you wanna hear, but it coulda been a hell of a lot worse."
You swallow past the huge lump that's formed in your throat thinking about some of your brother's unluckier past opponents. "Yeah…"
He sits you down, gesturing at the makeshift bar beside him. "Tea, or…?"
"Something stronger, Fog." 
Foggy sighs and uncaps a half full bottle of scotch. He pours two glasses, and you quickly down the scotch, not caring about how rough it is or how much it burns. 
"You know I don't judge but geez, what have you gotten yourself into?"
You grip the glass tightly and wait for Foggy to give you another finger of scotch before answering. "He's so good to me, Foggy.. Nobody sees it and no one understands. They're just blinded by this fucking age old rivalry between our families. it's insane! I love him, he loves me and I don’t know why everyone can't just mind their goddamn business? Why can't we just be together?!"
He sighs again, deeper and more fraught this time. "The thing is, this is much bigger than love hon. This… it could trigger another war. You think your pop is pissed at you? I don't even wanna imagine what Don Castiglione is gonna do to his son even after what Matt's done to him over this. Your families don't cross, and when they do blood is always spilled!" 
Your brows knit together, face falling at the thought of how Frank might be punished, how he'd be kept from seeing you too. "Foggy, I need to see him. I know you must have contacts, you can help us meet without anyone knowing… please? Please can you do this for me?"
Foggy paces nervously. He loves you so much, would do near anything for you but…
He runs his hand slowly down his face. "Look, you just can't be seen near Frank at all, okay? You can't risk that and neither can I. But I do know someone; a nurse actually. She's a good friend and I might be able to get a note to him for you through her. But that's it, okay?" 
He wheezes at the surprising force as you fling your arms around him and he gives you a small smile as you hug him tightly in gratitude. 
"Thank you, Foggy!"
~
"There's our big cock-for-brains! How're the ribs, Francesco?"
Frank winces as he shifts on the couch to sit up as Billy swaggers in and throws himself down beside him.
"Better, asshole." he grumbles back.
Billy smirks. "Oh! Last time I checked I wasn't secretly fucking a Murdock but I'm the asshole? Heh, yeah that's a good one."
Frank doesn't even dignify his comment with a response but Billy keeps going.
"So, is she nasty? I'll bet she is. Does she fuck as well as that brother of hers fights? Actually, thinkin' about it she does seem to spend a lot of time with him-".
Billy gags as Frank suddenly grabs him around the throat, ignoring the dull pain in his body as he pushes him hard into the seat, choking.
"C-christ Frankie relax, I take it back! Fuck, I don't mean it, I just needed to know how serious you are about this girl!"
Frank lets him go with a growl. "You're fuckin' lucky you got such a pretty face Bill. If you were anyone else I woulda messed it up. 'Course I'm serious."
"Yeah, yeah I can see that," he half laughs, coughing and rubbing at his throat. "Well, you better have this then." He hands Frank a folded up piece of paper.
Frank's eyes light up as they flit over your words, but then he scrubs his hand over his face shaking his head, his worries sinking in.
"What is it?"
"Shit, she thinks it's her fault that we were found out. Shouldn't have given her that damn necklace… should have been more careful… fuck!" He pushes himself up with a groan and starts pacing the room, the muscle in his jaw twitching and ticking as he thinks.
"I've fucked this up. I need to see her."
Billy's expression turns to concern. "Frankie, you love this girl, right?"
The intensity of Frank's look gives him the only answer he needs.
"Maybe you should just lay low for a while. The last thing you wanna do is potentially stir more shit up and get both of you in an even worse way. Just keep your head down, focus on the work, and then… who knows? Hell might freeze over."
Frank hates the idea of you thinking he's abandoned you, it guts him, but he knows Billy's right. He has to keep his distance for now. 
Fuck, he misses you.
~
A week goes by after you gave Foggy the note. And then another… and another. He can't possibly have given up on you, surely? But hope of ever seeing him again in the way that you did before starts fading quickly along with your anger at your brother. You had blamed him for everything, for perpetuating the rivalry, for telling your father, for putting Frank off you. You cried until you felt as though you had no tears left to cry.  
Matt tries his utmost to distract you from your moroseness, dragging you along to his fight fixtures that you used to love watching. But every one of his opponents that he beats just makes you think of Frank. 
There had been word of a huge arms shipment arriving at the docks later that week. Your father, uncles, and cousins spent most of their time planning on how they would get their hands on it before the Castiglione's could. It was a major job and a big risk, but if they could pull it off, it'd mean they could start selling weapons on the side and make even more money. You tried to talk your da out of it, piling up all the reasons he shouldn't get involved. But if there was anyone he was gonna take family business advice from, it was not going to be you.
"Matty I don't like this. We’ve got enough fingers in pies surely? We're doing alright, why is he so keen on going ahead with this job?"
Matt bounced gently against the ropes of the ring. "He wants to get one up on the Castiglione's, angel.  He won' let your little dalliance hold shame over us, he wants everyone to know who's boss."
Shame. The word made you grit your teeth till your jaw hurt, you were sick of this. Your father was a proud man, too proud sometimes. Nothing about it felt right but neither Matt nor your da would give your concerns the time of day. 
When the big night arrived you were ordered to stay behind, meet up with your girlfriends and go dancing or see a movie or something. Stay out of trouble.
Like hell. 
You carried on as if you were happy to stay home, but as soon as Matt and your da left to meet the others at the warehouse you followed a little way behind. You couldn't shake off the bad feeling that was slithering up your spine.
~
Frank smacked the cartridge back into the handgun he had just finished cleaning and laid it down on the massive table along with a gleaming array of other weapons. 
"Ragazzo, you ready?" Billy's voice drew him out of his silent brooding.
"Yeah, yeah. Gear up and we'll head to the docks. M'just itchin' for somebody to step out of line." Frank growls, slipping his gun in the back of his pants.
Billy throws him a grin and secretes his own arsenal of firearms and knives about his body. "Y'know, I kinda hope they do, I just love to watch you work, Frankie."
~
It was late when the boat docked. The Murdocks had intercepted it on its way in further down the river, overturned the guards and crew and steamed in ready for when the Castiglione's would inevitably be waiting for their delivery. You knew a couple of your cousins were stationed around the yard, lurking in the shadows of the huge containers just like you were. You knew how to stay hidden and move like a shadow when you needed to. Once a Murdock…
You see the Don's men arrive right on time, none the wiser as to what has happened until the gangplank is lowered and it's your da that steps out, flanked by two of his heavily armed henchmen. You couldn't see your brother.
"What the fuck is this?" Don Castiglione spits. He is every inch the gangster, tall, broad and extremely intimidating. You'd never seen him this close before but you could now see a bit of him in Frank.
"You Irish mutts think you can just take what's mine, huh? I'm insulted!  You should stay in your own little game Murdock. Take my advice, the guns do not suit you.
His men move forward and your da holds up a hand. "Now fellas, we don't wan any bloodshed tonight. If ye take a look around you'll find yer outnumbered n' outgunned. So, if ye will jist step aside we'll be loadin' these up in our trucks and'll get out of yer way and we'll hear no more about it, right?"
You see the rest of the Castigliones gradually appearing from out of the woodwork, and then you see him. Your heart sighs with relief that he's okay as far as you could make out. The glint of his piece shines in the moonlight as he moves to stand near the Don, who whispers something to him.
"Francesco, you are going to make good on your… mistake, and bring me my guns, capiche?"
They stand stock still for a long moment as Frank stares him down before they both suddenly spin on their heels as a deep voice like burnt gravel cuts the silence; effectively  interrupting the confrontation.
"Gentlemen. I believe I can resolve this rather… delicate situation that we have here…" 
It's Wilson Fisk. The fucking Kingpin. 
The metallic clack of weapons all around being raised and aimed at the newcomer echoes around the yard. However, the huge figure and his men remain unperturbed. 
"Mr Murdock," he continued calmly, "if you would please step aside, I will take what is mine."
Your blood runs cold. You knew your da would never back down. He was stubborn and tenacious and had definitely passed that trait on to you and Matt. Damn his fucking pride, you wanted to run out between them. Where the hell was Matty?
Just as you predicted your da stood his ground, finger hovering near the trigger.
"Y'think yer the fatcat around here don't ya, son? Well, I'm 'fraid to say that yer jist plain fat. Now run along an' let us men finish our business eh?"
Time slowed to a crawl. It was like everything was running through a sea of molasses. A shadow leaps over the railing of the boat onto the dock, it's running towards Fisk's men, Frank runs too as you see too late as Fisk's right-hand man raising his gun at your father. The shadow plows right into the second man who had also brought out his weapon, tackling him down to the asphalt. Several shots ring out like cracks of thunder and you scream as all you can see is your father dropping to the ground, there are more gunshots and then it's all over as quickly as it had begun. Your eyes frantically search the scene trying to understand what had just happened. 
Fisk is gone; disappeared into thin air along with one of his men. The other of Fisk’s henchmen was lying in a pool of blood at Matt's feet, one or both of the families had shot and killed him. You run out as you see your father being helped to his feet by Matt. They are alive and unhurt and you thank whatever gods would listen. 
It's then you see another body lying limp in front of them.
"No….no no no!" You hurtle across the yard towards it, Billy Russo and the Don are heading exactly the same direction. 
Towards Frank.
"Jesus Christ girl, what are you doing here?!" Matt rages at you. You fall to your knees as Billy turns Frank over onto his back, feeling for a pulse and listening for a breath; any sign that he is still alive.
Your father's voice is muddied in the background as the two families crowd around the scene. "H-He… that boy saved my life… he saved ma fuckin' life!" 
Blood seeps from Frank's stomach onto the ground.
"Frankie no, no don't die! Don't you fucking die! You hear me?!" Tears flood down your face as you grab his hand and squeeze. Billy puts pressure on the wound, slapping his face a couple of times trying to get him conscious. "C'mon bro, c'mon wake up for me! Wake up!" 
A van screeches up nearby and the Don orders his men to lift Frank and put him into the back. You climb in beside him, ignoring their protestations and grateful for Billy who snaps at them in finality. "She's coming with us.."
Matt runs up to the van after making sure your da is taken care of. "No… c'mon we need to get gone. You shouldn't even be here!"
"He saved our da, is that not worth anything?" You sob at him as Billy climbs in with you.
"Leave her be." Billy says. He slides the door shut and Matt's left standing as the van speeds off into the night.
~
Frank suddenly draws a wheezing breath as you hold onto his hand in the back of the van.
"Oh thank fuck. Frank! Frank, can you hear me?" Billy practically yells at him, ripping up his shirt and pressing it to the bullet wound as Frank gasps and groans in pain.
"Y-you holdin' my hand Russo?" He croaks, and you give it a squeeze, leaning over him so he can see you.
Your eyes briefly flick up to meet those of the Don, who has been silent the whole time.
"Frankie, you're okay." You tell your lover.  "They're taking you to a doctor.  You're gonna be okay." 
"Darlin'," he tries to sit up, starting to cough and you hold him down. "What you doin' he-" he coughs again and Billy helps keep him still.
"Shh, yeah I'm here, just don't move, don't move." You try not to think about how much red there is pouring out of him and onto your hands.
"Fuck… fuck it hurts- your dad, he okay?"
You stroke your fingers through his hair and try to smile. "Yes, oh god Frank, yes he's fine, he's fine! Now shh, don't speak, just hold on for me alright? You're gonna be okay, it won't be long.
You share a worried glance with Billy and hope that it's not far now.
Billy barrels through the A&E doors ahead of you and the Don's men who are carrying Frank.
"We need help here! Where's Claire? Get me Claire Temple!" he growls, taking an empty gurney from a nearby orderly and helping get Frank on it as he drifts in and out of consciousness.
A woman in scrubs very quickly appears from the triage area and immediately takes control. 
"Okay… we got a gunshot wound, anything else you wanna tell me? Was he conscious before now?" she asks you. A flash of recognition passes between you both, you had seen her patch Matt up after his fights a few times.
"No, no nothing else, yeah he was talking just a moment ago. He's lost a lot of blood on the way, can you help him, please?!" You plead.
"We'll do our best.  Please wait here."
Billy pulls you along as you both follow after the crash team taking Frank through the double doors, but Claire stops him short after she lets Frank's father go through with them.
"Hey, we're family too!" He protests.
"There's too many of you to let into the room, please, just wait here. Someone will update you as soon as we can. Right now, our main priority is to get him stabilised. Please, let us do our job."
The two of you reluctantly move over to the seating area as the other men go back outside to the van. Billy paces as you sit chewing your nails down to the quick.
"What you said…"
"What?" Billy asked.
"'We're family'." You say, catching his eye.
He stops his pacing, looking at you with sincerity. "If you're important to Frank, you're important to me. It's that simple."
You give him a small nod, returning to biting your nails and waiting with worry. 
Billy sits down beside you. "I'm sure he'll pull through. The fucker is hard to kill." he smiles and you return it, thankful that he's here.
"Yeah, he's gotta be alright."
~
After a few hours, Claire comes through the doors and you and Billy quickly get to your feet.
"He's stable. We were able to take the bullet out. It nicked an artery on the way in, but thankfully it missed his vital organs. We did have to give him a transfusion as he had lost a lot of blood. But, he's been stitched up and resting comfortably.”
"Oh my god," you felt the leaden weight lift off your shoulders slightly. "Claire, I can't thank you enough… Can we see him?" 
She nods. “You can. Just know that’s going to be groggy from the drugs we gave him. But I’m sure he’ll still appreciate the company.” You and Billy thank Claire before going into Frank’s room. 
He was groggy as Claire had warned you, but he returned the soft squeeze of your hand as you knelt down beside the bed. "Frankie, I'm so glad you're alright!"
"See, told you he was hard to kill." Billy said, patting Frank on the leg and smiling at him.
Frank chuckles, wincing slightly. "Yeah, you're not gettin' rid of me that easily. Baby, I'm sorry I got you into trouble. It's all my fault." He's looking into your eyes as he speaks, his hand reaching weakly for your face and you feel the bite of tears returning.
"Hey now, don't you cry over me darlin', I'll be alright. Everything's gonna be just fine, you didn't do nothin' wrong."
You sniff and laugh a little, stroking his hand that's cupping your cheek and wiping away your tears. "I'm the one that's supposed to be saying that! I missed you…"
"I missed you too. Not that I don't appreciate it, but you shouldn't be here. You should be with your family. With Fisk back on the scene it's dangerous baby, for all of us. What were you even doin' down at the docks?"
"I just had a bad feeling…" you interlace your fingers through his. "...but because of you my father is alive and well. I'm right where I need to be."
You're suddenly aware of an imposing presence as the Don entered the room. The man's even bigger than you had thought on seeing him up close. 
"Ah, so finally I get to meet the bella ragazza causing all of the trouble? The little bird that has my Francesco's heart, hm?"
Frank rolls his eyes. "Papa…"
You step forward. "I- I'm sorry Don Castiglione, I really didn't mean to-"
He takes your hand kissing the back of it briefly. "You make my boy happy, and so I am happy. So good to finally meet you, however I wish it were under better circumstances."
You swallow your nervousness down, nodding, actually surprised with how easy going he seems in private. "Thank you sir, it's great to meet you too."
"We are taking Francesco home tomorrow to recuperate, why don't you come and stay at the house with us? We have many rooms and I am certain he will recover faster if his love is nearby, hm?"
You're unsure what to say to such a generous offer, but Frank answers for you. "She'd love to papa."
You nod politely, still a little intimidated by the Don. "I would, but only if you're sure."
"It would be my pleasure, my dear."
Frank kisses the back of your hand. "Alright, I hate to say it but you better scoot, sweet thing. There's some shit we need to sort out…"
You sigh, not even being shot could stop the 'big men' from having their secret meetings. You bid the Don thanks and goodnight and catch Billy at the door. "Please will you make sure that he rests tonight and he doesn't do anything too stupid?"
Billy just chuckles, "you know that's an impossible ask, right?" He pulls you into a quick but surprisingly heartfelt hug as you stand up. "But I'll do my best bella nemica.
Frank can't help laughing softly at the nickname, groaning at the pain as it makes his stitches pull. "Oh that's a good one Bill, I'm stealin' that. You take care darlin', love you so much."
"I love you Frankie, I'll see you tomorrow!"
~
As you walk out into the hospital foyer you find your father waiting for you.
"Da, I…"
He pulls you into his arms, squeezing you so tight and you hug him back, relieved. "You shouldn't have been there tonight…"
You slump against him, the exhaustion from everything that happened suddenly hitting you like a truck. "I know, I'm sorry. I had to come, I was worried about you both. I'm so glad you're alright."
"Is he… okay?" 
You're surprised he cares at all about Frank but you nod. "Yeah, I've just seen him, he'll be fine. Where's Matty?"
"Out with boys patrollin', makin sure the streets are safe. Listen pet, I'm reckonin' we need to meet with the Castigliones to try an' organise some kind of truce. If Fisk is back and makin' a play to control the Kitchen we're gonna need more people an' it makes sense to join our forces."
You stare at him, your eyes wide not daring to believe. "Tell me you're serious. Please tell me you mean that da."
"That boy saved ma life, little dove. An it's war now, this changes things."
"But you've always hated them! Is Fisk really such bad news that you'd forget everything you drilled into me and ally with them?" 
"Darlin, ye have no idea…"
When you get back home you spend most of the night into the early morning talking with your father. He asks so many questions about Frank. He asks about his family and about your relationship, and you answer what you can. In turn you grill him about Fisk, and he paints a dour and terrifying picture. You understand now why he'd go back on his previous vow.
"I need ya to arrange a meetin' with the Don.  D'ya think you can talk to yer lad about it pet?"
"Uhuh, actually he offered me a room there so I could spend some time with Frank while he recovers… but I know what you're going to say so-"
He cuts you off. "Ye knew I was goin' to tell ye that ah think ye should go?" 
Your jaw almost hits the floor in disbelief. "You do?"
"Aye, you'll be safe enough there. Don's got a lotta men, an' that Russo I know is a good shot."
"Matty won't be happy." 
"No, but don't you worry 'bout that, I'll see to 'im."
You look into your father's eyes, and you can see he's asking for your help. You were scared. Kingpin had taken control of the shipment after everyone had scattered and who knew what else he had up his sleeve or when he'd choose to strike next. 
But this… this might just be the way to bring him down. If he knew anything about Hell's Kitchen, he'd never suspect an alliance like this. Fuck, even you would never had imagined it could be possible. 
The next morning you pack a bag, call a cab and go over what you're going to say to the Don when you get there. Matt must have stayed at the gym last night and you don't get a chance to speak with him. In a way you're almost glad as he'd probably chew you a new one for doing this.
The cab pulls up on the huge gravel drive and four well-armed guys in fine fitting suits give you a thorough once over and check your bag when you get out. 
"Hey! Keep your paws to yourselves, you animals. She's good." You are so relieved to hear Billy's voice, and he flashes you his charming smile while guiding you towards the imposing front door. 
"We figured Francesco would be safer here. The doc at the hospital wasn't keen on that idea, but what can they do?" He takes you straight inside. "You are here to help me look after the lil shit, aren't you?"
You follow him down the marble floored hallway, your eyes flitting around taking in the rather opulent but classic decor. "Of course, and who wouldn't rather recuperate at home if it's like this, holy crap!"
Billy smirks as he opens a door and ushers you inside the plush room.
You were so pleased to see Frank's smile. "Am I glad to see you again, sweetness." He tells you.
You bound across the floor to the huge bed that your beau is resting in. You're relieved that he looks so much better. You hold his face in your hands and are happy to see that he's back to a healthy colour. You pepper gentle kisses all over him, letting him know how happy you are that he’s better. Billy leaves you both to it and you're grateful to have some time alone with Frank. And so it seems, is he. 
"Frankie, you look good, how are you feeling today?" you ask, squealing in surprise when he pulls you into the bed to lie beside him. 
"Careful baby!" You exclaim before he's capturing your lips, not caring about the pain in the side of his gut if he gets to taste and feel you again. That wild want is there in his eyes when you break away and it's hard for you to resist giving in to it when his hands begin to roam over you.
"God I've missed you, missed having you…"
You huff at him. "Frank, you know I'd want nothing more… but you've got to rest, you've been shot for Christ's sake!!"
"Yeah, yeah I know," he says, the corner of his mouth pulling up mischievously. "but there's still some things I can do…" 
You feel the heat in your face even as you shake your head at the audacity of him. He never gives up, yet another thing you love about him.
"Just be serious for a minute.  My da’s asked if you can arrange a meeting between your father and him. He thinks our families should work together to stop Fisk."
He stops messing with you as he considers it. "Well shit, ain't the worst idea. And you agree?"
"I do. It makes sense, and it's the last thing Fisk would expect.
Frank mulls it over for a moment and then calls for Billy. "Hey man, can you get my dad in? Think we've got a proposal for him."
You're suddenly nervous for a different reason, hurriedly standing and smoothing down your clothes as the door opens. Frank reaches for your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.
"Hey, don't you worry baby." He reassures you under his breath. "Just tell him what you told me."
When you relate your own father's thoughts to the Don you're surprised when he doesn't interrupt, instead listening intently.
"...and where might the meeting happen?" He asks with interest.
"I think I know a place."
~
Foggy's in good spirits when you drop in to the shop. He’s glad that you’re okay, but his pleasant mood doesn't last when he hears what you've got to ask him.
“You want me to have The Murdocks and Castigliones under the same roof? Are you kidding me?”
"But your place is neutral ground, Foggy! There won't be any trouble I promise you."
He paces around frantically. "No trouble?! You can't promise me that!"
You fiddle with the snack display by the counter. "Look, I know it's a lot to ask, but if we can stop Fisk from becoming a permanent fixture everyone will be better off. Please Foggy, for the sake of the Kitchen." He stops his frantic pacing and pins you with a worried look.
“Fine. But if anyone gets shot, remind yourself I told you this was a bad idea.”
~
A couple of weeks later you found that Foggy wasn't exactly wrong in what he had told you. With the heads of both families and their closest lieutenants gathered in the large space of the Nelson's back room, the air quickly grew thick with tension. Matt arrived first with your father; stopping in his tracks as soon as he sensed you. You hadn't seen each other since that night at the docks.
"Matty-" you start. "alrigh' dove." he replies, only giving you a curt nod as he makes his way to the end of the long table. You sigh. This was going to be a long night.
When Frank comes in Matt stands quickly, his chair shrieking along the floor with his fists bunched at his sides. The Castigliones bristle, fingers itching and ready to reach for weapons. The tension was ramping up fast and it felt as though the meeting was about to fail even before it could begin.
"Ahh there he is. The golden boy. Fuckin’ cunt of the hour." Matt snaps.
"'The hell…?" Frank starts.
You found yourself getting to your feet.
"Christ Matt, will you just behave? Frank saved our da's life, does that mean nothing to you?"
"Aye it goes a way, but does he think he's better than us? That you're safer with him, with them, than us? Was that why you didn't come home, pet? Was this all his fuckin' idea too?!"
You'd never seen Matt this upset and angry before. You had to calm him down before something irreversible kicked off between the families. Frank shot you a concerned look but didn't interfere; knowing that anything he said could make things even worse. You pull Matty aside, whisper-yelling at him.
"Hey, listen to me Matt. Me staying at the Don's was da's idea, and getting everyone together was his too! Did you not know that?" You hiss.
Matt huffs. "No. I just thought that…" he paces before running a hand down your arm. "we're the ones that keep ya safe, love, yer family. Not them. It just feels like-" he stops himself, unable to fully admit his jealousy.
You urge him to continue, you don't want there to be bad blood between the two of you, especially now.
"I worry about ya dove. I know ya say ya love 'im, I just don' wanna see y'get hurt. When you're wit me, you're safe, y'can't get hurt. You know I love you too."
His expression is so honest it makes your heart burn.
"Matty, I love you so much, and I know you're just looking out for me but please, you've got to let me live my life for myself. I'm a grown woman now. You don't need to keep protecting me from everything!"
He sighs with resignation and you squeeze his arm.
"I know you're not sure about Frank but he really does love me, and I don't believe that he'd ever hurt me intentionally. And this? This is the best shot we've got at Fisk, you know that. Please don't throw this away Matt, do it for the Kitchen if not for me!"
He softens as you plead, "I'll do it for both of youse."
You kiss him on the cheek and whisper a sincere thank you before returning to the table where discussion is already underway. You walk over to stand beside Frank and kiss him swiftly. He's a little surprised that you'd make your relationship so public with the current situation as it is.
"S'everythin' okay princess?" He asks nervously as you place your hand in his, and let out a thankful sigh along with a shitload of tension.
"Everything's grand, Frankie." You say with a genuine smile. "Let's get this started."
The heads of the families agreed that they needed to find out what resources Fisk had, how many men and how much firepower he possessed before they made their move. It was proposed that members from each side should scout it out, and ultimately it was decided that Matthew and Frank would go.
As you watched Frank slip his pistol into his holster and give you a wink, you were reminded of the day you had first laid eyes on him. It felt like a lifetime ago even though it had been just over a year since you'd walked to the store with Matty, and Frank and Billy had been in there.
"Well that's my day ruined. Can't breathe in this town without runnin' into a Murdock, or two." Billy had remarked, looking you up and down with dark eyes and a devilish smile.
Matt stiffened, moving in front of you, jaw and fists clenched. "Y'know this is our territory Russo, so get lost or I'll help ya find your way out..."
However, your attention had been on Billy's companion, who you would later find out was the Don's son. His face was set hard, but he had warm brown eyes, and a big boxer's nose that drew your gaze. When they had left the store Frank had looked back over his shoulder, the faintest smile on his lips as he threw a wink your way and you found your face heating up.
Now they were heading into dangerous territory working together. Your heart was in your mouth as they both finished kitting up, arming themselves to the teeth just in case shit happened to go south.
"Please be careful." You say to Matt, your words somewhere between a prayer and a blessing.
"M'always careful, love." He replies before he lets Frank talk to you.
He brings your hand up to his lips and kisses the back of it as he looks into your eyes with a serious expression. "You promise me you'll go straight on home, yeah? Don't want you on these streets tonight baby."
You stroke the side of his face and bring your forehead to touch against his, breathing him in. "I promise. And promise me you'll look after each other."
Both men nod and then head for the door and you and your father head for home.
~
Matt stops Frank with his arm as he listens to check that the way is clear for them.
"Alrigh', we're good." He confirms after a couple of beats.
"Reckon we can get a read on em from up on that roof there, it covers most of their exits." Frank suggests, and Matt nods and follows. When they're situated, hunkered down side by side behind a low wall, Frank feels the oppression of something waiting to be said. The muscle in his jaw ticks as he clenches it and he can't stand it anymore.
"C'mon man, can we just get this over with? Say what you gotta say, I know you wanna. I can take it."
Matt swallows his pride and turns to his former foe after taking a pensive breath.
"Yeah, you're right, I have got somethin' t'say to ya. M'sorry. I was wrong about ya an I've been a right shitebag to you an ma sister all this time. But, there's a right thing to be done an' I'm hopin' tha we can move on?"
That wasn't what Frank had expected at all, a swift one-two knocking his brain around in his skull, but it felt like a dark cloud was lifting and he actually started to smile.
"I know you're just lookin' out for her Murdock, I get it, and I really appreciate you sayin' that. Might not have seemed like it but I've got a lot of respect for your family after meetin' that girl."
Matt nods. "Feelin's mutual. I shoulda just trusted her in the first place but y'know what's she's like, always gettin' hersel' into trouble."
Frank chuckles quietly. "Don't I know it."
They keep watch for a few more hours, noting the comings and goings of Fisk's men. After clocking where the weapons are stored, they manage to sneak in and get a good idea of what kind of firepower they have before reporting back.
The two long feuding families of Hell's Kitchen drive the Kingpin out of their territory in a spectacular blaze of fire and fists. He certainly didn't expect the Murdocks and Castigliones to team up and take back what was theirs; which was a huge advantage for the families. When Frank and your brother returned triumphant you leapt into Frank's arms, kissing him over and over and until he was almost begging for air.
When word spread of the victory everyone headed to Josie's to celebrate, but Frank knew his fight wasn't quite over. There was something else he had to do.
He's feeling like he knows real fear for the first time in a long while as he approaches Jack Murdock in the bar. He's got just one aim. One question.
Jack nods at him as he comes over, signaling the bartender to pour them a couple of whiskeys.
"Alright lad? We did good, eh?"
"Yeah, that we did. You, uh, know why I'm here?"
"Aye son, I know. C'mon then, out with it." Jack says to him.
Frank's mouth nervously forces a smile and he takes a deep breath before he begins.
"Sir, I'm sure by now you know just how much I care for your daughter, and if you don't, well… thing is I love her. Love her with all my soul and with your blessin', I want to ask her to spend the rest of our lives together.."
Your da raises an eyebrow. "Oh aye, is that so? An' would ya do right by her? 'Cos ya know if y'don't you'll have the whole clan comin down on ye like hellfire?"
"I know that and I will. She's my life now sir, couldn't love no one else more."
"Alright boy, but y'know we'll be watchin' ya."
He grins and raises his glass to Frank's own. "Well y'have my blessin', and I've no doubt she'll be happy wit ye."
Frank breathes out a solid sigh of relief and can't wait to tell you, to ask you to be his forever.
When he does it's a little bit more romantic than a toilet stall in the dancehall. He picks you up in his car the next evening. He's got the top down and is waiting next to the open passenger door as you step out of your house. You take his breath away every single time he sees you but tonight it's different, you no longer have to hide your love for each other. He takes your hand, takes all of you in, your dress, your hair, your beautiful smile. He knows he's a lucky man.
"Where are we going to baby?" You ask, but he only smiles and tells you to hold tight. You're curled around his arm the whole way as he drives you both to the hills outside of the city.
When he pulls up at a quiet parking spot you get out and can see the twinkle of the city lights below mirroring that of the starry sky. When you turn around to show your excitement he's pulling a hamper and blankets out of the trunk.
"Oh Frankie, this is so gorgeous! Thank you so much!" You squeal as you help lay out a blanket and he digs out some delicious treats, glasses, and a bottle of wine.
"Gorgeous spot for my gorgeous girl."
He opens the bottle then fills your glass and his own, and you raise them to clink and take a sip. He watches you looking out at the view, a mild breeze weaving through your hair. You're just sitting there and he almost can't believe how head over heels he is for you. Things could have turned out so differently but he's eternally grateful that they didn't.
When you turn to him you can't help but giggle at the insanely adoring way he's looking at you.
"What is it?" You smile, taking a bite from a plump red cherry.
Frank brings his hand up to the side of your face, his thumb passing lightly over your lips as you look up at him with your big eyes.
"God, I just…"
You tilt your head in curiosity as he reaches into the hamper for something, producing a small black box which he opens in front of you on bended knee. It's his mother's ring, a delicate and twisting precious metal band set with a small sparkling diamond glinting up at you.
"Oh Frank…" you gasp, any other words are lost in your surprise but he carries on.
"I love you baby, so goddamn much. And I know I asked you before but I'm askin' you now, proper. Your da gave me his blessing and I'm hopin' that you will too… please say yes darlin' and marry me? I've wanted to be yours since the first damn time I saw you. What do you say? Talk to me baby, don't leave me hangin' like this!"
Your hands come up to frame his face and you kiss him over and over and over as you answer an excited 'yes!' between every one. He's laughing with a smile so big as you hold out your hand for him to gently take the ring and slip it on your finger where it fits perfectly.
You kiss him again, this time it's slow and lingering on the lips and he wraps you up in his embrace as he deepens it, laying you down on the blanket underneath him. Your fingers slide into his hair and his hands squeeze the roundness of your ass eager to feel each other as your kisses become more heated and desperate.
Your eyes meet. "I'm yours forever now, Frank, make me feel like it."
He wastes no time answering your request, running his hands over your body, nipping and kissing at your earlobe and just below as he caresses your breast, and you push your hips up against his moaning with pleasure. You slip a hand down to feel his hardening cock through his pants, frantically scrabbling to loosen his belt and free him as he curls his fingers around the waistband of your panties pulling them down, his lips almost never leaving your skin.
"Baby, baby… mm, goddamn you're so perfect for me." He murmurs and you let the night sky hear just how good he makes you feel as he slides his fingers through your slick folds, teasing at your clit with light strokes.
"Yeah, you like that, huh? That what you need?"
"Frank please, I can't wait! Just- I need you…" you plead, pressing your body up against him and stroking your soft hands up and down his erection to make sure he gets the message.
"Oh shiiiit… alright sweetheart, shh-shh. I got you, I got you…" he whispers against your skin as he pushes his pants down and your silky dress up, quickly rolling on a condom. He moans along with you as he finally sheaths his thick length inside where you need him the most. both of you gasp at the feeling. You claw at his shirt, pull him as close as you can when he starts to rock into you. Every thrust of his hips has you desperate for the next, you want him so deep so that you can feel him for days after this and you tell him so, driving him crazy and making him fuck you even harder.
"Anythin' you want, I'll give you anythin' love, just wanna see your pretty face when you come for me."
He wraps a strong hand under your thigh, pulling it up making you moan out again at the new delicious angle, arching underneath him as he draws back almost all the way out and then fills you back up again, taking you so easily to the edge of an earth shattering climax. His hand comes up to cradle your face, watching you, seeing the love he feels for you reflected in your beautiful eyes.
"Frankie, you're gonna make me-" As you approach the precipice, the only thing in your mind is that he's yours and you are his.
He seals his mouth over yours, tongue teasing against your own, your whimpers muted as he does all he can to make you fall apart, to pulse and clench around him, your vision whiting out with only this blissful sensation spreading through your body and the sound of his voice in your ears while he talks you through it.
"Yeah baby, that's it my sweet girl… god I love you so fucking much-"
You cry out to the stars as you share in this intimate moment, showering each other in endless, breathless declarations of love.
.
.
Epilogue
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bubuslutty · 1 year
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Love Language
pairing: frank castle x fem!reader x billy russo
word count: 1.7k
tags: domestic fluff, mafia!au, billy never betrayed frank, slight nsfw (it's just like 3 sentences), lowkey obsessive behaviour from Billy, established relationship, no dialogue, filthy rich people shenanigans, billy & Frank are like bodyguards to the reader, no use of y/n, use of 3rd person pov
warning: none
Summary: this is just how billy and Frank love differently, other than using their hands and lips on their favourite girl.
a/n: this also could be read as part of the 'La Reine de Londres' universe if you want.
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Frank and Billy are in love with one woman. That's no news. But what's interesting is their different love languages. Even though their hearts belong to each other and one woman, they express their love differently.
Billy is known for his love of luxury and quality. He's not afraid of enjoying and seeking out the best of the best, be it tea, a suit or a gun. Billy's approach to life is a bit hedonistic in a sense. He loves feeling good, loves making people feel good, be it by his hands or by dressing them in silk and gold.
He has always admired the lifestyle of rich and noble people since his rough childhood, how they held themselves and how they saw the world. It was how he came to meet their girl in the first place. He founded Anvil, a private military firm, to put his and Frank's skills to use, to feel like their time in the military didn't go all to waste. And also to build himself his own small empire, to feel in control of his life and do things how he wanted.
He overheard her talking to Wade in a bar, telling him about how she needed a trustworthy team of skilled people to guard her and her assets. Billy offered his service right then and there. That day, she not only took his business card but his attention for the next week.
Billy remembers going back home, telling Frank about the gig he got them, and he didn't leave out how pretty and hypnotizing the mob was. Frank laughed in his face, saying how Billy says that about any woman he sleeps with. But then Billy gave him a look, and Frank realized that his friend might be in a bit of trouble, and so was he.
Months went by, heated glances in the office and kisses at the back of limos became limbs in tangled sheets and remembering how Frank liked his coffee, how many moles Billy had on his skin and how she liked her eggs in the morning.
Then Billy started loving her differently, without his hands, lips or body. Don't get me wrong, he still enjoys touching her more than anything, he just started loving her in a different way. He started buying her things he thought she'd look pretty in and fit her personal style. If he saw a watch that would pair well with some of her other accessories, you better believe Billy would buy it and gift it to the mob with a kiss on the back of her hand, her neck and her lips.
Of course, Billy bought her flowers, pots of plants, and any plants he thought she didn't have and would love to look after. His gifts seemed normal and pretty common to receive from your lover at the beginning, but then his gifts became bigger, filling a hole in his soul and satisfying a hunger he always had.
He bought her a sports car, even though she already has multiple and barely drives them. But for Billy, she dressed in one of Billy’s favourite dresses on her, the white slip-on that stopped just below her ass and was backless, leaving her back, arms, neck and legs naked. She drove to the ridiculously expensive sports car to one of their favourite high-end restaurants and as soon as they arrived, she was dragged to the toilets and ended up with Billy between her legs with her back to the wall.
He even purchased her a house in the countryside next to a forest and farms. Billy just bought the house because it was old, owned by a Lord a hundred years ago and he couldn't take the image of his girl lounging around the house in silky robes while sunbathing like a cat for hours. It's not even a house, really, it's more of a small castle.
When they would be in the castle during weekends and holidays, Billy got his favourite woman sculpted by a group of young artists from the University nearby. You should have seen his face when he saw the leaflets in the local grocery store, looking for models so the students would get to practice with real-life subjects. He phoned the University that same day and got an appointment with the Fine Arts Professor the next day.
When he told her, she was surprised and told him how she didn't have all the time in the world to be standing there and getting sculpted, no matter how flattering it is to be considered beautiful enough to sculpt. Billy nearly got on his knees while explaining that they would work around her schedule and that it was a dream of his to get a statue sculpted of her, just like Greek deities.
And she accepted. At first, she had to accompany Billy to the University, to meet the teacher and some of the students, but also to see their work and projects. Billy was definitely impressed by the skills of the students and couldn't wait to have them sculpt his girl.
Billy offered their home to use as a studio to sculpt for a couple of days. The professor was hesitant until Billy told him where they lived and he immediately grinned with excitement, sharing that his students would love the change of scenery and feel as if they were actual sculptors being commissioned by a Lord to sculpt his Lady. Billy also shared his one and only condition, which was to keep any finished work of his girl. After all, it was simply for practice. The students accepted once they found out who and where they would work.
Then it was paintings.
When they met some of her clients, Steve and Bucky, a friendship quickly blossomed. Billy found himself really enjoying the presence of the two super soldiers, whenever they showed up at her office or when they were invited over for tea. Once when they were talking, Billy looked to the side and found Steve completely absorbed in a piece of paper. He had a pencil in hand, sketching away while everyone else was absorbed in the conversation.
Billy was curious and took a peek, and was surprised to find Steve sketching his girlfriend's profile as she went on about something that Billy had no ability to focus on because all he could see was the sketch and the sketch alone. After that, Billy made it his mission to ask Steve more about his art, which then transformed into an invitation to Steve's personal art studio where he showed the throuple his work.
Billy soon offered to commission Steve for a painting of his girl. He was willing to allow Steve months to paint and sketch, provide him with space in their home to paint and pay him beyond generously for his time and skills. Steve accepted immediately, he loved art, and he would love to paint the woman. She was absolutely beautiful and one of his muses after all.
Steve would end up sitting in the middle of their spacious living room in their château, surrounded by brushes and paint tubes, and a big canvas. While his subject was lounging on a sofa, her body half covered by thin white fabric, falling in her curves and dips and hugging her skin like the fabric was weaved for her skin and her skin only.
Billy would make tea, prepare snacks and sit down to admire his girl. He would talk during the process, ask her about her day and whatnot when Steve was not painting her face. Then he would feed her when she wanted a snack or a drink and was not allowed to move. And when they were done for the day, he would run her a bath, sit behind her and tell her about how much he loves her and how beautiful and perfect she is. Then when she was all dried up, he would rub lotion into her precious skin and massage her back and calves. As long as she's his, he's going to treat his so much better than anyone ever could, making goddesses in ancient myths jealous.
Frank on the other hand is a bit different. He’s the most himself when he gets to express his love through acts of service. Frank loves domestic life. There is something in the simplicity of it that makes him feel truly at ease and most comfortable.
Frank would rather do something by himself than hire someone to do it instead. He can cook, so he will cook for Billy and their girl. He can fix doors, creaky hinges, flickering light bulbs and practically anything. If something breaks in their home? Call Frank. He would be more than happy to fix it.
Frank once found his girl crouched on the floor, almost crying at a flower pot that fell and broke, and it wasn't just any flower pot, it was a gift from one of her friends. Frank looked at the mess of dirt and broken pieces and reassured her that he could fix it. It won't be as perfect as new, but he will save it as much as he can. And he did, and now it sits in their kitchen near the window and not a day goes by that Frank doesn't get all warm and fuzzy whenever he sees his girl smiling while watering the flowers in the pot.
If the clasp of his girl's watch broke? Frank would try to fix it by himself, and more often than not he succeeds. That man was so good with his hands, he could practically do anything. Not only can he wring out orgasm after orgasm from her with just his hands, but he can build her an indoor jacuzzi, refurbish their kitchen, build a shed from scratch and would damn well build a house if she asked him to.
He loves having projects to do. He needs to have something to fill his time outside of work. His girl was thinking about installing a new bookshelf in her office? Frank has already measured the space, found what type of wood his girl would like the most, how big or small she would want it and how long it'll take to build. He's truly a DIY man.
No matter how much Billy tells him to leave something alone because they can call someone to take care of it, Frank never listens. He will do it himself. This is his home, his family, and he will pour his blood, sweat and tears into building it.
He's a sentimental man after all, he wants to leave his mark on everything that surrounds him and the people he loves.
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tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @awkwardalie @enretrogue @itwasthereaminuteago @snowkestrel @hellskitchenswhore @reveluving
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saintmurd0ck · 2 years
Text
part one : untouchable
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series masterlist | main masterlist | part two
pairing: mafia boss!frank castle x f!reader
summary: it's simple: mafia boss frankie castiglione likes to please his girl
warnings: mafia boss frank au, oral (f receiving), voyeurism/exhibitionism if you squint
a/n: i literally just finished watching the many saints of newark and by god jon looked delicious in it, so enjoy this lil inspired drabble / divider edited by me, but credits to @bernthalized for the incredible photo
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Frankie Castiglione likes to please his girl. 
They say it’s what makes him different among the other mob bosses of New York City’s crime families. He’s the most level-headed – sane, even, and that’s all because of her. He’s untouchable if she’s happy…
And that makes him dangerous.
.
Your eyes flutter open as your head tips backwards, allowing you a small glimpse of his office. Papers strewn everywhere, picture frames knocked to the side, one of his precious cigars laying right there on the carpet.
All this for you.
It’s always for you.
It makes you a little giddy, thinking about how your skirt’s bunched around your hips and New York City’s most formidable crime boss kneeling between your legs. You’ve become familiar with the sensation of his hardwood desk, pressed to your back, and it almost feels like the once-sharp edges have been rubbed smooth, just from the way you’re always finding them for balance.
A dark silhouette on the other side of the door’s frosted glass panel catches your eye. It must be Lieberman, Frankie’s consigliere, standing guard. All Frankie needed was to shoot him a nod, usher you in with a beckoning finger, and suddenly everyone in the house had somewhere to be. Only Lieberman ever stayed, and that was that.
“Not so eager f’me today, sweetheart? What’s on your mind?” 
You crane your neck forward to look at him grinning between your thighs, nose and mouth glistening with the sheen of your arousal. He slides his hands out from under your skirt, only to drag the tips of his fingers along your skin, along where he knows you’re most sensitive.
Your body goes taut as he pulls a breathy moan from your lips. “N-no, Frankie. Just… just keep doin’ that, will you? I need you.”
If Lieberman can hear what you’re doing, as if he doesn’t already know and as if you ever bother keeping quiet, he doesn’t show. He doesn’t move a muscle.
Frankie licks his fingers first, and then his lips. His face goes calm. Focused. 
You’ll never hear him say these words to anyone else, but for you, it’s without a second thought. “Anything for you, darlin’.”
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zushigirl · 6 months
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Hey Fog. I’m fine. Catching up on a bit of work and enjoying the view. Stay warm.
She presses SEND and is about to add an emoji…but a tap interrupts her. The room falls quiet…was someone knocking earlier?
Karen puts her phone down and tiptoes towards the door. She opens it halfway to find an empty hall, save the small brown package on her doorstep. Was the mailman really out in this snowstorm?
Tappp…tap…
“Hey…Hey! Karen!”
The knock wasn’t coming from her door.
Karen turns her head just in time to see a figure hovering by the window of her fire escape.
Frank. Frank Castle.
She’s stares blankly at his coffee-colored eyes, startled by the fear she finds there.
“Karen. Please. You gotta - ”
PIINNNGG
Her phone again. It must be Foggy. She should…
BBAAAAMMM!
A snow day turns bloody when Karen becomes the Mob’s newest target. What’s worse is that she keeps repeating it over and over again. Only one person can help her stop this Groundhog Day: Frank Castle ❄️☕️💀
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Text
Stray
Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader
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Masterlist
Summary: Based off of my commentary on this post from @itwasthereaminuteago, about how Frank just brings home dogs from jobs.
Warnings: Fluff, pure fluff.
WC: 900
The raindrops hit against the windows of your apartment in a calming rhythm, a welcome white noise to accompany your relaxing evening. You were snuggled up on the sofa, your favorite fuzzy throw blanket rested across your lap as you settled in for the night, content to enjoy a cup of coffee and a good book while you waited for Frank to return.
No that you were lonely tonight, quite the contrary, as you were surrounded by your four rescue dogs.
Rosie was the brindle boxer-lab mix Frank found on the way home from a job. She was left in a box after she had been abandoned on the side of the road somewhere in rural Appalachia. Now, she rested right in front of the fireplace, content to let the glowing embers warm her snoot as she slept in a curled up croissant shape on the floor.
Max and Leo were found together, Frank rescued them from an underground dog fighting ring run by one of the gangs he was hunting down. Max, a shepherd-pittie mix with ears shooting up to the sky, sat right in front of the window, tilting his head to take in every new sound coming from the outside. Meanwhile, Leo, a tan and white pitbull, was content to join Rosie in lounging about. His body draped lazily across the recliner in the corner, lip occasionally twitching as he dreamed, probably about chasing squirrels in the park you liked to imagine. 
Nestled into your side rested Jeff, a tiny dachshund mix some mob boss used like a Bond villain with a white cat in his lap. When Frank brought him home, he was shivering and so scared of everything, quivering with fear every time either of you went near him. Now that he had been in your home for a while, his personality was quite the opposite. Despite him being the tiniest of your pack, he was the most confident and always happy to snuggle up with either of you, just like he was now. 
The familiar sound of keys in the door caught the attention of all five of you. Rosie, Max, and Leo sprinted towards the door, eager to greet Frank as his heavy boots squeaked across the floors of the entryway. Jeff, however, was unbothered and after watching his three siblings rush down the hall, resumed burrowing further into your embrace.
You looked up from your book, watching as Frank appeared in the living room, three dogs trailing behind him.
He was soaked from head to toe, dark curls sticking to his forehead as he approached where you were sitting. He kept one arm tucked inside his jacket, as he leaned down and gave you a sweet kiss in greeting
“You’re back earlier than I expected.” you commented, eyeing him as he stooped down to give the dogs attention, wondering just what the heck he was doing with his arm
“Yeah, well musta got some bad intel cause I waited at that warehouse for four hours and no one showed. I’ll try it again tomorrow.” he replied as Max and Leo licked at his chin
“Frankie?”
“Hm?”
“Whatcha got there?” you asked, having a bad feeling you already knew the answer
Frank stood tall in front of you, sheepishly ducking his head toward the floor before looking up at you and responding.
“Look, I know you said we don’t have any more room…”
“Frank…”
“But she was shivering behind a dumpster and in this weather I couldn’t just leave her!”
He finally pulled his arm from his jacket, revealing a gray staffordshire terrier puppy trembling in his hand. She looked so young, and was small enough to fit in Frank’s enormous palm.
“Francis, we live in a one bedroom in Manhattan. Where are we gonna put another dog?”
He didn’t answer, instead just looking at you with those signature brown eyes that made you melt every time.
You looked at the poor thing in his grasp, her brown eyes seemed to be exactly the same as Frank’s, silently begging you to say yes.
You sighed, knowing that your protestations were useless. You got up from your spot on the couch, annoying Jeff who moved to the other side of the sofa with a huff as he curled back up. 
Frank wordlessly handed the puppy to you and you pulled her close to your chest as she sniffed at your ear, excited to meet another new person. You kissed her forehead and a wide smile spread across Frank’s face, knowing that you were sold and this dog was now part of the family.
You crouched down, letting Rosie, Max and Leo sniff and greet their new sibling. Her tail thumped against your chest as she excitedly greeted her new-found family.
“What are we going to name her?” you asked Frank as he also crouched down to scratch at everyone’s ears and help them greet the new puppy.
“What about Chelsea? Since that’s where I found her?”
“Chelsea. Perfect.” you replied
After everyone had gotten their sniffs in and settled down, she fell asleep in your arms. You gingerly moved back towards the couch, trying your best not to disturb her. Frank and the rest of the dogs joined you to snuggle up and enjoy the rest of your first evening together as a pack of seven.
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