#punisher fic

[hellsburners]

focus on me

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

masterlist | more frank castle

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shit—,” Frank groaned. 

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

“Hey, what’s up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Attaboy.”

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

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

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

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

“Fuck—it’s too big,” you cry out.

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

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

He takes your chin to fix it in his gaze. 

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

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

“Frank—” you moaned out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck the game, we’re not done yet.”

“What?”

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

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

[lady-phasma]

Battered and broken

Frank Castle x fem!reader

a/n: This is out of left field but I found this and had forgotten I had written it after a Punisher rewatch in Nov 2023. So I’m putting it out in the world because why not.

Warnings: actually no smut (I know, right?!), hurt/comfort, description of injuries.

Summary: You’re an ex-Navy corpsman (yes, they call women that too in case you weren’t sure) and Frank comes to you for help and some comfort. Takes place after season 2 finale. 3.3k words

The knock on your door is faint, you could have missed it if you weren’t so attuned to it. You close your book and place it on the coffee table as you stand up from the couch. You unconsciously tuck a stand of hair behind your ear as you reach the door. You take a deep breath before looking through the peephole.

No one looking back at you. Only the top of a man’s head, a ball cap, his face toward the floor of the hall. You can tell by the slump of his shoulders he is exhausted. You slide the chain back.

“Come in,” you say as you open the door. Frank steps in sideways, glancing up at you. You let out a gruff sigh. This particular beating looks worse than any you’ve seen yet.

“Hey,” he grunts at you. He tosses his cap onto the kitchen table and pulls a chair out. The feet scrape on the floor. He nearly collapses into it. His body looks so heavy, like gravity has gotten stronger, pulls harder on him than anyone. He runs his hand over his hair and leans forward, nearly puts his face in his hands but thinks better of it when his busted cheek brushes against his palm. He rests his elbows on his thighs and lets his head hang. You quietly close the door and slide the chain back into place.

Your bare feet are quiet on the tile floor but are the only sound in the silent apartment. He doesn’t look up as you approach him. You stand at his side and sigh lightly. You touch the back of his head, gingerly, run your fingertips down his neck. So far, the back of his neck is the only part of Frank not covered in blood. There’s some there too though. You make another pass, equally gentle, but with your entire hand from the top of his head to his neck and let your palm rest against him.

You’re standing close enough to him that he leans slightly against you, shoulder to thigh. You wish you could take the weight off his shoulders but you’ll happily accept any that he’s willing to offer, even if it is only to prop him up. It lasts only for a beat. He can’t share the load. It’s not pride or ego. It’s a mix of fear and compassion. When he straightens up you slide down to squat next to him. You keep your hand on him the whole time, some small comfort for both of you.

“Hi there,” you nearly whisper. You dip your head as you speak, finding his face, assessing the damage. “Hey.” You reach up and gently put a fingertip under his chin. He lifts his head, barely, and meets your eyes.

“Hey,” he replies. He is beyond exhausted and, this time, beyond beaten. You suck in air between your teeth and drop your hand from his chin to his knee. But you smile up at him sweetly, a closed-lip smile that spreads up to your eyes. He almost smiles back at you but winces.

“I’ll be right back, darlin’,” you tell him as you stand up. You hear him let out a deep breath. You straighten your pj shorts as you pad through the apartment gathering supplies. Occasionally you glance over your shoulder to make sure Frank is still upright. You run through the list in your head and as you circle back through the kitchen you snag a beer from the fridge.

You lean over the table and let some of the items fall from your arms as you use a foot to slide a chair out. You sit down while pulling your chair closer to Frank, face to face if he sits up straight. He hasn’t yet. So you line up your supplies and then crack open the beer.

“Here. Drink this.” You hold the open beer bottle in front of him. He finally looks up and slowly lifts his head. It looks like it takes all of his remaining strength to rase his arm to take the beer from your hand. He takes a swig of it and sets it and his arm on the table. He leans back just a little in the chair.

You turn back to the table and your supplies, grab a washcloth and the bottle of isopropyl alcohol. You want him to lean back if it’s comfortable so you stand and step between his legs. He takes another drink of beer and rests his arm on the table again. Then he looks up at you. You have the cloth in one hand, alcohol in the other, and a tightness in your chest from those deep, dark, haunted eyes. That particular expression always makes you ache to comfort him, relieve even the smallest amount of his agony.

“I don’t have to warn you, you already know how this hurts. I’m guessing this is the least pain you’ve felt today.” You smile down at him and push some of his hair back from his forehead with the back of your hand.

Frank’s eyes soften slightly as he looks up at you. You feel his left hand move from his leg to yours as he slips his fingers behind your knee, up the bare skin of the back of your thigh. He’s not going any further, only wants the contact with you, but your skin still breaks out into gooseflesh. His touch is gentle for such large, rough hands. You let out the breath you had been holding and dab the cloth against the mouth of the alcohol bottle. You start at his forehead and move your way slowly down his busted and bruised face until there’s no more white on the cloth.

He only winces a few times and never much more than a reflex and never opens his eyes. Only once did he involuntarily pull away, but his cheek is split wide open, even he couldn’t override his body’s response to the alcohol in the open wound. You hold the cloth away for a beat as his fingers reflexively grip your leg. Then you go back to your job. It hurts him but it has to be done.

“Thank you,” Frank mumbles as you step back to sit down again, his fingers trailing off your skin as you move out of their reach. You toss the cloth on the far side of the table and start to set up the first aid kit and a small bowl you fill with alcohol. You close the bottle and look at him while you unpack suture supplies, bandages, ointment.

“Did you finish it? Is Amy going to be safe?”

He nods. Just barely. Even nodding hurts.

“Do you know where she’ll go?” You doubt it. He doesn’t want to be a liability to the people he cares about. Not knowing is safer, easier.

“Nah,” he answers as he looks down at his clothes, examines his hands, turning them over to look at the palms. He takes a drink of his beer. “Nah, I gave her some cash and got her on a bus.” Another swallow. “Maybe she’ll make something out of her life. Good kid.”

“Yeah, she was,” you nod. “Just misguided. Happens to most of us.” You stand up again and slide some things on the table closer to Frank, gently taking his beer from his hand and setting it out of your way. You step back into your position between his legs and before you can begin he reaches up and holds your hips in each hand. He leans forward and rests the top of his head against your stomach. You run you hands over his shoulders, one up the back of his neck. You make soothing sounds but you never shush him. The last thing you want is to make him feel like he can’t say whatever he needs to. These sounds aren’t words as much as gentle humming sounds mixed with it’s-okay-s. The tender moment doesn’t last long. Frank raises his head and slides his hands down your legs. He’s not holding your legs, only resting his hands against them as his forearms rest on his thighs.

You both know this normally sucks but it’s going to be so much worse without a topical anesthetic. Not that this is unusual for Frank, but this split cheek is awful. You decide to do it first. You choose the smallest needle and thread from your medical kit, the best choice you have for facial sutures but still bigger than you want.

You look down at him, soft smile on your face, and find him watching you. A touch of adoration mixed in with the exhaustion.

“This is going to hurt like a motherfucker babe,” you warn him unnecessarily.

“Don’t drag it out,” he tries to grin in that cheeky way but it hurts too much. “Get on with it.”

So you do. Occasionally, you feel his fingers tighten on your legs but Frank’s overall reaction to these stitches is a narrowing of his eyes, small twitches in his lower eyelids, and muscles flexing in his clenched jaw. The apartment is so quiet that you can hear, as well as feel, the sutures as you stitch him up. Frank’s breathing has a rasping quality that you don’t like in the least. Your corpsman’s instincts run through the list of possibilities and, combined with the shallowness of each breath, you’re pretty sure he has some rib damage and maybe a few hits to the throat.

As you tie off and cut the thread you assess the other wound on his chin. That could use a few stitches as well. You go about cleaning your needle, threading it, and try not to be distracted by Frank’s fingers grazing a path up and down the outsides of your legs. He’s started to relax. The endorphins from the pain of cleaning and stitching are washing over his brain. His breathing has begun to deepen and slow.

You look back at him and tilt his face up to yours by running your fingertip up the line of his jaw to his chin. You work silently, this area less damaged but requiring a bit more concentration. After finishing these sutures you drop the needle in the bowl of alcohol. You assess the smaller cuts and splits on his face and deem butterfly bandages appropriate. You unwrap a few and start closing the wounds on his forehead, his other cheek, above the bridge of his nose. When you finish you lean down and kiss the top of his head and cradle the back of his head in your hands.

Frank’s hands slide up the backs of your thighs, over your shorts, to the small of your back. His fingers slip under the hem of your tank top to rest against your bare skin. Unexpectedly, he leans his head forward and you straighten with a little surprise but you don’t stiffen. You let him rest his forehead between your breasts. Through the thin fabric of your tank, his breath is warm against your skin. You gently pet the back of his head and then rest your hands just above his shoulders. His shoulders are shaking a bit, trembling actually. You don’t think he is crying but he’s processing a lot of emotions after a day like this.

You both stay that way for a moment, not too long, and he sighs loudly. You move your hands from his shoulders. When he looks up at you, his eyes are red rimmed but a little less exhausted.

“Alright big man, come ‘ere.” You take a step back and gesture for him to stand up. You smile broadly at him, encouraging him that he can do it, that there is enough energy left in him. Frank groans as he stands but grins at you sheepishly once standing. He rolls his eyes at your mock clapping, praising his effort.

You step closer to him again and the smile falls from your face. You dread seeing how much worse shape his body is in if his face was that bad. It can’t be avoided.

“I’m fine,” he grunts as you move your hands to the hem of his shirt. “I’ll be fine.” But Frank looks away from you and clenches his jaw, chewing the inside of his lip. He doesn’t have much fight left in him.

You continue on your quest and gasp “ouch” when you see his bruised torso. It would be a miracle if he doesn’t have a cracked rib, but it’s probably more like two or even three. You pull his shirt up to his chest and he acquiesces, raising his arms up to help you. He jerks the shirt over his head and his arms out of the sleeves and flings the shirt on the floor. Even his arms are covered in dark purple bruises. You want to soothe him, run your fingers over his injuries, but you only allow your hands to hover above him without touching.

Frank’s face is a mix of embarrassment, frustration, and anger. And it infurates you that the anger isn’t at who did this to him but at himself for being a “burden” on you. You put a mental pin in that discussion, saving it for a better time. He won’t even look at you at the moment so there’s no need to try. Your compassion builds from your stomach and spreads a warmth across your chest as you realize he is actually embarrassed. Does he think that you see these injuries as anything other than his sacrifice? They certainly are not evidence of inaptitude or failure. Surely he doesn’t think that. That conversation will happen sooner rather than later but not tonight.

“Hey,” you prod gently. “Hey?” You wait and Frank eventually turns to look at you.

“Hi there, Mister,” you say as his eyes meet yours. “There he is.” You gently touch his face in the one spot not cut open. “Stay here with me, would ya?”

He tries to return your smile but can barely manage it. He looks down but presses his face into your open hand. He is so epically tired. You glance down at his chest again and know there is nothing you can do with your limited first aid supplies to help him. Maybe wrap his ribs after he cleans up.

“You wanna just do what I tell you for a bit? No argument?”

Frank nods against your hand then straightens up and clears his throat.

“Yeah, sure, whatcha got in mind, doll?” His lips twitch into a lopsided smirk and you would have hit him playfully if there were anywhere to hit him that wouldn’t hurt. You smile at him before squatting in front of him to unlace his boots. No easy feat given how long the blood-soaked laces have had to dry. When you have them loose enough you stand up so he can toe them off.

You casually slide a finger into one of his belt loops and give it a light tug. “Come on big boy.” You flash him a quick smile before leading him to the bathroom.

You can feel him watching you as you walk. You always can. He is hypervigilant about everything but he seems to study your movements, your muscles, any time you move. He’s seen you in less clothing but you like the way your skimpy pjs leave some things to his imagination. Your brain shuts off those thoughts the moment you enter the bathroom.

Frank stops in the doorway and leans against the jamb. You work on readying the shower, getting the right water temp, clean towels. You nod your head in the direction of his pants. “Those. Off.” He groans as he straightens up but you hear his belt, then zipper, as he complies.

The two of you haven’t done this exact dance before but so many variations on it that he know you have to do this for him. He can object, occasionally you let him fall into bed untended to as long as you get his bloody clothes off first. But just as he trusted his corpsman when he was deployed, he trusts you. Marines’ habit of following corpsman's’ instructions is beneficial, especially these days.

You turn toward Frank and quickly survey the damage to his legs. Not as bad as you expected but not great. The bruise on his shin is worrisome but the rest look reasonable, given the circumstances. Your eyes travel back up his battered body to his face as you walk the short distance to him.

“You gonna leave your shorts on while you shower?” you tease. You smile only slightly to indicate that you’re teasing because you aren’t sure if he wants this tonight. Not sure if he wants to be alone, vulnerable and alone, instead of vulnerable with you. You slip a finger under the elastic of his boxer briefs and wait. Wait for him to signal his decision.

Frank raises a hand and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He focuses intently on you ear, then your cheek, then your lips, and finally your eyes. His hand lingers near your neck and shoulder, fingertips barely touching you. His eyes flit back and forth between yours, reading your face, thinking, deciding. You wait. Always will.

“Nah, easier to shower without them.” He is nearly expressionless as he says this, a hit of a smile at the corners of his mouth. Before you can get started “helping” him remove his shorts, he leans forward and presses his lips against yours. Not quite a kiss, yet. He’s tired. You press forward into his mouth with yours and he kisses back. His lips are slow, tender, and cautious, and not because of the cut on his lower lip. He always starts off that way. As if he were unsure if he will break you, if he will break, or if you will finally rebuff him. You’ve never sure. You slowly, gently encourage him by running the tip of your tongue across his bottom lip while you kiss him back. That does the trick.

Frank snakes his hand from your neck to the back of your head and entwines his fingers in your hair while pulling your mouth harder against his. It’s passionate but not urgent. Nothing tonight is urgent. But this feels amazing, as if he hadn’t kissed you ages or would never get to kiss you again. You feel lightheaded when he pulls back. His hand stays behind your head, thumb rubbing small circles on your neck.

You remembered your objective and start to get him out of his shorts but he stops you and slides them down, steps out of them, and walks to the shower. He almost grabs your hand as he passes but lets his fingers graze your palm.

“I’m here, Frank. I’ll be in the other room,” you announce as you walk out of the bathroom, “but I’m here.”

You busy yourself with cleaning up, putting everything back, anything that doesn’t go into the bathroom. You want him to have some privacy, safe privacy to breathe. You take a drink from his open beer and pick up his shirt and boots. So much blood. You can sort that tomorrow. He’s still showering as you put the chairs back in place under the table. You plop down on the couch, sitting curled up on your feet, and rub your brow. You take a few deep breaths and then another sip of the beer. As you set it on the coffee table you hear the bathroom water turn off. You pick up your phone from the table, check for missed notifications, then silence it. Frank walks out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, as you are placing your phone back on the coffee table.

“Feel better?”

He grunts affirmatively and smiles. He walks over to you and takes a drink from the beer. Before you really know what is happening, Frank lays down on the couch, barely fitting because he lay with his head in your lap.

(May be continued…)

[petertingle-yipyip]

BIGGER PERSON - BILLY RUSSO

Pairing: billy x castle!reader (established relationship)

Word Count: 1,741

Summary: When Frank’s sister finds out that a) her brother’s alive and b) her boyfriend is supposed to kill him, the conversation quickly turns bad.

Your brother, Frank Castle.

Months had passed and his death still didn’t feel real. You had seen the headstone, found a church that was willing to give the infamous Punisher his last rites. Even though Frank didn’t really care for religion towards the end of his life, your parents would’ve wanted it done so you made sure of it. You sent them the blessed crucifix from the private ritual.

You were frozen in place as the news story played out on your TV. The job Billy was working for the senator, the one he claimed was to protect from the unknown bomber, was also intended to protect him from Frank. Frank, the alleged accomplice to the bomber, was being framed - yet again - as public enemy number one.

You paused the screen when the channel was playing video from a cop car that very clearly showed your brother’s face and pulled your phone to text Billy. But as your finger was finding the conversation, you realized he would very likely lie to you again. He lied about the job to begin with, so why would he owe you an honest answer now.

So instead, you paced your living room until he finally made it home.

When you heard the door open, your grip tightened on the remote and you felt the urge to throw it. Either at Billy or close to it, you didn’t care, but you refrained from either. He walked in and said his usual greeting, moving in to kiss your cheek but you shoved him off.

“Tell me you didn’t know.” You said tightly, hoping the anger in your stare was enough to burn him.

“What do you mean?” He asked, a slight nervous chuckle pairing with the words.

“The bombings. All of it is being blamed on Frank.” You continued.

“Frank?” His brows furrowed and you had the urge to shove him again.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.”

“No, I- I’m not.” His hands went up in surrender. “I want to finish this discussion, really. But honestly, baby, I’m too damn tired. Can it wait till later?”

“So my brother is alive and I find out by chance from some news story and you want to talk about it later?” You said angrily, gesturing to the paused screen that still displayed the photo captured from a police car’s dash cam.

“Can we not do this, Y/N?” Billy sighed and dropped on the couch, covering his eyes.

“No, I think we should.” You snapped. “That is my brother, Billy. If there was even a rumor that he was still alive, you should’ve told me!”

“It was just a rumor.” He enunciated, still not looking at you. “I hadn’t heard from him so how was I supposed to know it was true?”

“You still should’ve told me!”

“I’m sorry!” He shouted, standing suddenly and. pausing you to take a small step back. “What am I supposed to do about it now? What- What- What do you want from me?”

“Jesus.” You sighed and put your hands up in surrender. “Nevermind. It’s just my brother, right? Who cares? Not like I had a right to know but hey.”

You stormed off to the bedroom and ignored Billy’s muttering as you left. You didn’t even need Billy to confess that he knew or that he was helping Frank hide. All you wanted was an honest apology, but he couldn’t even do that.

The days went on and you still said very little to Billy. You still did your usual routine, breakfast and coffee ready before he went to work. Dinner either on the way or finishing on the stove when he got home. But outside of that, or answering a direct question he asked, you were busy with a book or a new TV show. Anything really that meant you didn’t have to say anything to him.

It was right before his TV interview about the attack on Senator Ori at the hotel, which they were attributing to Frank. He had came out and asked if his tie looked okay and you said “Sure, it’s fine” without facing him.

“Jesus, Y/N/N. How long you gonna act like this?” He complained.

“I shouldn’t have to be the bigger person.” You spat back, still keeping your back to him. “I shouldn’t have to bend to keep us on track. Let me ask you this, Bill. That guy with the- the eye thing. He having you go after Frankie?”

“Y/N…”

“I swear to God I will walk out that door.” You threatened and turned to face him. You watched his eyes dart between yours as he took in your expression. “Everything you’ve been doing lately, was it all about Frank?”

“Yeah...”

“Catching him?”

“Yeah…”

“Killing him?”

You didn’t even know how you managed to get that question out but you did. It felt as if your throat had tightened and the three short syllables were rung out of your voice box like water out of a towel.

“Yeah…” He answered, voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart grew heavy in your chest and it nearly felt

like it had stopped beating.

“And you wonder why I’m pissed off.” You said flatly, pushing past  and leaving him behind you.

“Baby, it's just business, alright? Nothing personal.”

“It should be personal!” You turned and shouted. “That’s my goddamn brother!”

“You want me to apologize for doing my job?” He asked sharply.

“Yes!” You threw your arms forward. “Apologize for trying to kill my brother!”

“It’s my job!”

“Well excuse me for thinking you cared about me more than a fucking paycheck.” You put hands up in surrender and turned away, back into the kitchen.

“C’mon, babe.” He sighed, hurrying after you. “It’s not like that.”

“It’s always up to me, even when it shouldn’t be.” You complained. “You want me to take the blame for a fight and I do. I do because I love you and I always think it’ll be the last time.”

“Y/N…” He said your name softly, confused even. As if he had barely realized what the routine with you had become.

Argue about something, sometimes petty and sometimes not. Then you’ll make up when you apologize, but nothing changes. It was a vicious cycle that Billy was completely oblivious to, until now.

“I think that maybe next time you’ll be the bigger person cause I’m sick and tired of carrying the burden of every argument.” You shrugged, tears forming in your eyes that you ignored. “Keep moving my boundaries so you don’t cross lines, keep quiet when you yell. All cause I thought I had to to make it last between us.”

“I… I didn’t realize.”

“Yeah, I know.”

He took a moment to think over his next words. It felt like a very defining moment for your relationship. He never meant to make you feel that way, and knowing he had was arguably the worst pain he’d ever felt. How did he not notice? How could he do that to you?

“Tell me how to make this right.” He said softly, gently reaching to take your hand. You looked up at him while you let your hand sit in his. He looked at you with wide, soft eyes that were begging for forgiveness. “I’ll do anything.”

“You think it’s that easy?” You countered with a small challenge. “Billy, you’ve been hunting down my brother for a man who doesn’t care about you. That guy will throw you under the bus as soon as he needs to, just like everyone else. But my brother? You know damn well Frank would’ve done anything to protect you. He never would’ve don’t this to you.”

“No… He would’ve.”

“Why?” 

He looked towards the ceiling and sighed heavily. Your stomach felt tight and your blood ran warm with anticipation while you took a step back, taking your hand away from his.

“What did you do?” You urged.

“The carousel.” He began and that knot in your stomach grew tighter.

“You were there?”

“No.” He looked back to you, a silent plea in his expression. To hear him out, to believe him, to forgive him. “No, I wasn’t, I swear.”

“You didn’t shoot him? Or Maria? Or the kids?”

“No, I wouldn’t do it.” He shook his head and you could’ve sworn you saw tears in his eyes. “I said no.”

You were quiet as things began to click and you knew it reflected in your eyes as Billy’s expression changed.

“But you knew… You knew they were coming after my brother and that’s why we went out instead of me going with them.” You realized and the thick weight of betrayal slammed into your chest so hard you thought the bones would break. “How fucking dare you stand in front of me.”

“No, Y/N, please. Let me-“

“Let you what?” You cut in sharply and your hands tightened into fists at your side. “Let you explain? What is there to explain when you just admitted to knowing that your worthless fucking friends were gonna kill my family and you did nothing?” Your voice grew to a scream as you rambled.

His eyes shot to your hands and he took a step back from you.

“My niece and nephew, Billy!” You shouted. “They were kids! And Maria, she loved you. And you just let it happen.”

“I couldn’t do anything.” He spoke quietly.

“You’re kidding, right?” You laughed in disbelief. “You could’ve warned him!”

“He wouldn’t have believed me!” He reasoned.

“Y’know what.” You took a deep breath. “Just get out.”

“Y/N..”

“Aren’t you late for your interview?”

He opened his mouth to speak but the glare you gave him kept him quiet. Instead, he collected his things and went to leave.

“I didn’t want all this.” He called from the door. “It wasn’t supposed to end up this way.”

“Yeah, you worked so hard to keep it from me.” You countered. “Good luck when Frank finds out.”

The door closed soon after and you found your phone. You scrolled your contacts until Karen’s name popped up. You had met the woman when her friends were defending Frank in court and you two had stayed decent friends. You texted and said you had seen the news about Frank and asked if she could help you get in touch with him.

karen (lawyer): just put flowers in the window

[ughtoomanyfandoms]

Punisher (The Last of Us - Joel Miller): Masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: [no outbreak au; jackson, wyoming] Joel meets a woman with a dark past. Having just moved to Jackson from Northern California, she has to be careful with who she can trust, while trying to not let them get too close.

-or-

Joel Miller meets Sons of Anarchy cluster fuck :)

Note: this is really just me indulging myself on an idea i had. i dont know if it's gonna be any good or mean anything.

Series Warnings: in third person pov but no use of y/n (reader referred to with she/her pronouns), age gap (Joel in his 30s/40s, reader in late 20s), drug use, sexual content, swearing, mentions and depictions of violent content, dangerous acts only to be performed by professionals

Status: coming soon.

Read on AO3 or Wattpad.

pt. i pt. ii - epilogue

[the-ghost-bird]

Unless...

Frank Castle x Reader drabble

Gif by @darlingshane

Summary: She's had enough of him.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, murder, gun play, knife play, injury, blood play (don't do this at home fellas), sadomasochism, honestly a bit of a toxic dynamic, assassin!reader, sub!Frank, Frank being the biggest masochist ever, mentions of masturbation and voyeurism.

A/N: I havent written or posted any work in a long while, but I had the idea for this and I needed to get it out of my system. I'm not gonna edit, just gonna throw this into the world or ill probably never post it. Tagging @saintmurd0ck @castlesnchurches @vandominia @softsapphicsap @chellestrash @chelseasdagger @itwasthereaminuteago

Frank fires before she can, and loses count of how many rounds he put into his target.

He's becoming reckless, that much he knows. With each kill, his anger grows, and he became a little too focused on shredding the man in front of him to keep count of how much ammo was spent.

He watches afterwards, takes in the sight of the blood staining the egyptian carpet in the pristine office. Well, not so pristine anymore.

Once it all feels real, he breathes. Inhales sharply, not realizing he'd been holding his breath. Frank isn't affected by death, at least not this one, but his kill list is getting shorter and he's been having an existential crisis every here and there, avoidant of the fact he'll have to figure out what to do with himself once this quest for revenge is over.

For now, he breathes.

For now, he focuses on dealing with her.

Frank walks towards the floor-to-ceiling windows of the office, looks out to see Y/N on the roof of another building, standing besides a sniper rifle, barrel pointed at him. They stare at each other from a distance until she grabs her gear and turns her back.

Frank has some explaining to do, so the dead body is left to rot.

He finds her on the roof of his safehouse. Y/N stands perfectly still in the shadows, still enough to fool him into thinking that maybe, just maybe, she won't be too mad.

"That was my contract." Her voice is cold and professional, the first winds of a tempest.

"I know." Frank's response is as professional as it is stupid. And it just feeds into Y/N's frustration.

"It was ten million dollars, Castle."

"Yeah. And?"

"IT WAS MY FUCKING MONEY, FRANK!"

He should be concerned, should care about how she fucking roared at him loud enough for Murdock to hear. But honestly? Frank can't bring himself to give a fuck.

"You'll survive." He brushes off. Y/N can feel her frustration turn into rage, but she still tries to keep calm and make a point.

"And my fucking reputation?! Don't you think word will get out that the Punisher stole my kill right in front of me like it was nothing?" She tries, but Frank just breathes out a chuckle and crosses his arm, deciding he wants to be funny.

"So? Listen, if you're thinking you can outmatch me and you want everyone in your business to think the same, that's a you problem, and you're damn straight delusional-"

Next thing Frank feels is a bullet in his thigh.

He falls to one knee with a pained cry, draws his firearm at light speed, and pulls the trigger. But no fire comes out.

"You should've counted your bullets, Castle. I did." Y/N shakes her head in mock disappointment and stalks towards him, gun pointed at his head. And now it's his turn to get fucking furious.

"The fuck is wrong with you!? You gonna kill me over a hit?"

"You know better than to get in between me and a contract." She spits harshly, gun under his chin before she orders. "Get that other knee of yours on the ground before I blow it out."

Frank obeys, tries his best to ignore the pain on his thigh, and how it gets worse with pressure and weight onto it.

"Thaaat's it, baby." Y/N praises before her tone turns condescending. "You look so pretty in that position, you know that?"

Frank heaves, vibrating with anger. For a second, he tries reaching for the blade on his side, but Y/N raises her gun to his forehead.

"Keep moving and I'll unload the entire mag in you, and I know exactly how many bullets I've got left."

Frank let's out a shaky breath, knowing he fucked up but too stubborn to fully admit it to himself. Y/N looks at him for a long couple of seconds, and she can see him making mental calculations, trying to figure out how he's supposed to get out of this.

"What? You don't trust me, sweetie?"

He doesn't bother with an answer, and they keep up the unbreakable eye contact before Y/N speaks up again.

"You know Castle, I was 15 when my mother got me private medical lessons." She starts and, despite the pulsing pain, Frank is curious as to where in the fuck this conversion is going. Y/N rarely ever mentions any detail of herself, so suddenly he's very interested in whatever she has to say. "I already knew how to patch myself up so I was confused as to why she would hire a whole team of doctors to give me in depth lessons of the human body. I just didn't know how it would be... useful... for the family business." Y/N reminisces, before asking "Have I told you doctors make the best torturers?"

Both of them know the answer to that question, and Frank knows that underneath this ramble, Y/N is trying to control her emotions, so he indulges her with an answer.

"No. You haven't told me that."

"I should've figured it out sooner, but I only really found out when she brought me on a mission to extract intel. She made it clear: greatest amount of pain while keeping the target alive for the longest time possible." Y/N finishes with a deep breath before shaking her head slightly as if trying to shake away memories. She then caresses the scar on his cheek with her thumb, taking the time to look at him before hushing softly. "I could never hurt you, Frankie. Not in a way that matters."

That's when Frank understands what she's trying to say. That while she has an inhumanly accurate aim, the bullet she shot didn't go low enough on his thigh to damage his knee or high enough to hit his artery.

She hurt him, but she didn't incapacitate him.

She wouldn't kill him.

"Unless..." Y/N sings as she clicks off the safety on the gun and wraps her hand around his throat. "Unless the big bad punisher lets his ego get out of control again and thinks he can steal another one of my contracts. Is that going to happen, Castle?"

He sneers at her, anger clouding his vision again and making Frank reluctant to answer. But she knows he'll talk, and he'll talk real nice.

"...no." He mumbles. Y/N's not satisfied though, so she presses the gun hard against his temple, raising her voice to that soldier-like tone Frank used to hear in the marines.

"No what ?!"

"I won't get in your way. I won't-" He rasps, finally yielding before crumbling at the fury in her eyes. "I- I'm... m'sorry."

And that simple word makes her open the widest of grins, expression turning euphoric and leaning on unhinged, like it's what she needed all along. Frank knows how much she loves his apologies, even if she doesn't accept them.

Y/N doesn't hesitate to press a harsh kiss onto his split lip. Frank knows she can hear the whine he tries to suppress, that she can taste the blood on his tongue. She leaves him breathless, only parting to bring her lips close by his ear.

"I saw it." She whispers. "That night after I opened up your pretty cheek. I saw you."

Frank's eyes widen, and with a shudder, every bit of residual anger leaves his body.

Frank remembers when they met up a couple of months ago, remembers how pent up he was after their fight, remembers being hard while he stitched the cut on his cheek, and how he came in the shower afterwards, pleading her name and thinking of all the other ways she could hurt him.

And she saw.

He doesn't know how but she saw him.

"How about I leave you with a warning and a gift, huh?" Y/N proposes sweetly, pulling out the knife from Frank's side.

Later on, he'll pretend like he didn't nod so eagerly.

Y/N uses the knife to slice open the unscarred cheek. She takes in Frank's reaction, from his gorgeous whimper to the way his eyes are blown, and then focuses on how beautiful he is when he's bleeding.

Before Frank can register, her tongue is on his face, licking from his jaw up to the cut on his cheek, lapping up the blood before she comments with a smile.

"Now they match."

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Reception ||

Pairing: Frank Castle x f! Reader

Rating: E

Tags/warnings: meet cute, fluff, smut, a dog, and be careful - you might fall in love.

A/n: I can't with this man. He has my heart and soul. Dogs 4 Eva.

"Bride or groom?"

The husky voice from over your shoulder at the bar makes you spin around, and you were suddenly face to face with someone you'd only ever seen in the news. Oh how different he appears standing mere feet away from you, and to use a clichéd phrase he did indeed scrub up well.

For starters he was wearing a suit and tie, and an immaculately tailored one at that, mid blue with a waistcoat and everything. His hair was a little less severe than you'd seen it before, maybe a little longer and you noticed it held a slight wave at the top of his head. His eyes were so far from the black pools they seemed on screen or in the mugshots, instead a warm and inviting honey brown gaze met yours. And then that strong boxers nose that had obviously been broken more times than he could count, you couldn't help thinking it was cute.

"Bride," you replied with a smile, still taking in the sheer mass of man and reputation in front of you. "I've known Marci since school."

He nodded, his lips curling a little. "another lawyer then, guess I shouldn't be surprised."

You laugh knowing the two of you are likely the only ones at the reception that aren't in the legal business. "veterinarian actually, we've just kept in touch over the years." You gave him your name. "You with the groom then?"

"Kinda. Friend of a friend. You know Karen, right? I'm Frank." He reaches out his hand to you. "Castle."

"I know, you're somewhat famous round these parts." You smiled, taking his offered hand to shake as he dipped his head slightly in embarrassment. "Hi Frank, it's nice to meet you."

"So uh, you know all about me then."

You shrugged, "only what matters, mostly what Foggy has told Marci has told me."

Frank nodded. "So... the good stuff, huh?"

"Just the truth?" You answer.

"And that don't make you wanna run for the hills?"

You laugh, and Frank decides there and then he wanted to hear more of that sound.

"Well, only if you don't buy me a drink. You were gonna buy me a drink right?"

Frank chuckles, "uh yeah, yeah I was. What can I get you?".

~

"I don't really get out much socially, so this is nice." You tell him, nibbling on the cherry in your cocktail.

He takes a sip of his beer. "Yeah, Karen keeps tellin' me I need to 'extend my social circle', so I guess I'm 'extending', or somethin'."

Your musical laugh hits his ears again and he grins. "So a vet huh?" He asks, raising his brows.

You take a sip of your drink and nod. "yeah, I've got my own practice, and a couple of days a week I work at a charity for people who can't afford to pay for treatment for their pets."

"That's, wow... that's really amazing. I've got a dog, rescue pittie. He's my best buddy."

"Aww no way? What's his name?"

He smiles warmly, "Benji."

~

The party was starting to wind down, Marci and Foggy both wailing drunkenly on the karaoke machine with Matt desperately trying to wean them off it. You both realise you'd been talking for hours.

"Wow, it's so late! Urgh, I kinda hate that I've gotta work later this morning but I guess I should head home and get at least a few hours sleep."

Frank nods. "Yeah, hope you're not sufferin' from all my yakkin."

"No! I've had a really nice time. Actually I uh, better give you my number... in case your dog ever needs me I mean." You felt your face heat up as Frank smiled and fished his phone out his pocket giving it to you to put your number in. You gave it a quick ring so you had his.

"Thanks, maybe we could meet up for coffee or somethin'?" He suggests hopefully.

You nodded, "yeah, that would be great. Gimme a call midweek? Should know when I've got some free time then."

"You got it."

'Goodnight Frank," you call over your shoulder as you make your way towards Marci and Foggy to say goodbye.

"G'night sweetheart."

You grinned to yourself as your stomach flipped at the endearment. You weren't normally one for pet names but there was something about Frank saying it that made it acceptable and you liked it. He wasn't at all what you were expected and that was more than okay.

~

Three days later your phone buzzes on the table, Frank's name showing on the display, which you're a little surprised by at 11.30pm.

"Frank, hi?"

"Hey, I uh, I'm really sorry to call so late but it's my dog, I think he's stood on a broken bottle when we were out, his paw's cut up real bad, I dunno if I got all the glass out, it's bleeding a lot...I didn't know what else to do this time of night, had your number and-"

"Of course! it's ok. If you can loosely wrap his paw with some clean cloth, I'll text you my address, I've got an emergency kit here just come over as soon as possible and I'll take a look."

You get your kit ready and when the doorbell went you buzzed Frank up and waited out on the landing for him and your new patient.

"Shit, you weren't kidding about the bleeding!" you exclaimed, taking in Frank's hands and arms covered in red but no dog to be seen. "Where is he? In the car?" As Frank came up the last of the stairs and under the light you could see his face was cut, his lip bust open and bleeding, and even more blood soaking his jeans.

"Frank what the hell..."

"I need your help..."

You were slightly taken aback by his appearance but your wits returned quickly and you usher him into your apartment before any of your neighbors decided to get nosy. "C'mon, come in and tell me what the hell is going on."

As you follow him inside you see he's limping slightly, the back of his jeans damp with more blood. This was much more the Frank you had expected at the reception. "You look like you need a hospital, what happened?"

"Nah, no hospitals. Too many questions, and that ain't good right now. Can I..?" He gestures at the sink to clean his hands.

"Yeah, sure," you cock your head at him, eyes narrowing. "But I have some questions too -"

Frank nodded. "I got shot."

Your eyes widen. "The fuck-?"

He leans up against the counter. "It ain't as bad as it looks, normally I'd pull the bullet and stitch myself up but...uh, I can't see to reach it. It's in the side of my ass. I could really use your help, please."

You roll your eyes. "I'm a vet Frank, not a human doctor."

"I know, I know. It ain't too much, just need another pair of hands and eyes is all. Maybe some hard liquor..."

"Christ. Okay." You grabbed your kit and got him to follow you into the bathroom. "Alright, um, obviously you'll need to pull your pants down so..."

Frank nodded and unbuckled his belt as you look around anywhere but at him. He huffed as he slid his jeans and boxers down a little way to the tops of his thighs. "You see it?"

You snort taking in the trail of red dripping down from the gunshot wound in his right cheek. "Little hard not to, yeah. Ouch. Okay let's get it cleaned up first. Who the hell shot you in the butt anyway?"

Frank leaned on the sink and winced as you wiped over the bullet wound with disinfectant so you could see what you were doing.

"A gang of assholes who thought they were gonna get away with mugging a girl. They're regrettin' their life choices now but one of em managed to tag me before I got him."

You pick up a pair of forceps. "Okay that's worth an ass-bullet if anything is. Was she alright?"

Frank grunts as you start digging around for the metal. "Yeah. Bit shaken but fine. Took her to the cops and told her to report it."

"Bet she was glad you were in the area. I know I'd sure feel safer."

He catches your eyes for a second and bows his head. You quickly swing your gaze back to what you were doing.

"Okay, I've got a hold of it, gonna pull it out now alright? I'm sorry, I know its gonna hurt."

Frank grit his teeth. "Yeah just do it. Fuck!"

You yank it out and drop it in the wastepaper basket, pushing some gauze firm against the wound.

"Hold this and keep pressure on it." You tell him before disappearing into the kitchen. You return with a 3/4 full bottle of Macallan and pass it to him.

"Thanks." He says after taking a huge swig.

"Right, just a few stitches and we're good."

You quickly sew up the wound, cleaning and securing a dressing over it. Then you checked over his other cuts and bruising which thankfully didn't need much attention aside from a quick clean.

"You can pull your pants back up." You tell him, turning away again as he did.

"So do you even have a dog, Frank?"

"I do. He's fine, he's at home. I'm really sorry I lied to ya, wasn't sure if you'd freak if I laid the whole story on you on the phone."

"Well, I admit it's not the weirdest thing that's ever happened, and at least I got to see your ass."

"Yeah, sorry bout that too..."

You chuckle. "Thought it would be under slightly different circumstances but hey."

Frank's lips quirk. "Only slightly different huh? Well thanks. I mean, shit, I really can't thank you enough."

"If you wanna thank me maybe you can buy me lunch sometime soon?"

"You mean you're not done with me, after all this?"

You shook your head. "I'm a firm believer in second chances, I've helped a lot of waifs and strays over the years "

"S'that you sayin' I'm a dog sweetheart?" The swagger in his tone made your stomach flip.

"Mmm, you're a dog, but you're not in the doghouse." You grinned, starting to wipe down the sink.

Frank chuckled, "well I gotta be grateful you're so understanding. Not many people as forgiving as you out here. I'll get outta your hair... but you sure I can't at least help you clean up?"

"Nah don't worry, just take it easy and rest for the next few days huh? You free Saturday?"

"Uh yeah," he replies, making his way to your door. "How bout I bring Ben along with me?"

"Of course, that would be great!

"Listen, thanks for doin' this and I'm real sorry I lied to you. Won't happen again. Promise."

"I know." You waved him off watching him limp down the stairs. "See ya Saturday Frank."

"Seeya."

You were so busy that Saturday swung around in no time and although you were exhausted you felt on a high as you walked to meet Frank at the dog park. His face lit up when he saw you coming and you very quickly got acquainted with Benji playing with him, throwing the ball as you and Frank talked and joked with all the ease of the night you met. Frank wasn't limping anymore which you were glad about, but he put it down to your 'expert ass surgery' which you folded over with laughter at. He took you to a gorgeous deli and you got your favourite sandwich as well as some pastries and drinks, and sat down under the shade of a huge tree in the nearby park for an impromptu picnic, sharing bits of cheese from your lunch with Ben.

"If he wasn't sure about you before, he definitely likes you now." Frank had said, rubbing Benji's ears affectionately.

You could say the same for you and Frank. You really enjoyed spending time with him.

You were both absolutely stuffed after lunch, Frank sitting up against the trunk of the tree watching you roll around on the grass with Benji. He loved how easy it was to just hang out with you. Even before the whole bullet thing but maybe that had helped somehow. You didn't seem to be afraid of much. He buckled seeing you mimicking Ben scratching his back on the grass and his mind was made up.

"Can I take you to dinner?"

You stopped and sat up, shaking the grass out of your hair at the same time Benji shook it out of his fur.

"You can. But I won't be able to go out until Friday next week, that okay?"

Frank scrunches up his nose like you'd wounded him. "Jeez, almost a week till I can seeya again? I dunno..."

You smirk, "sorry, just really busy this week. You a limited time only deal or something Castle?"

He was quick to dismiss that even though you were joking back at him. "Nah, course not, I just... my dog's just bonded with you so good and, I think he'd miss ya is all "

You saw the tips of his ears redden. Never in a million years would you have thought you'd see Frank Castle blush, and because of you?! But you weren't so cruel as to make something of it so you played along, and truth be told you already couldn't wait to see him again either.

You grin. "Well, I'll miss him too. You can always call me and I'll speak to him? Text me some pup-dates? It'd keep me going through the week for sure."

Frank ruffles Benji's fur, "I'm sure he'd like that." He looks up at you and you return his shy smile, practically melting inside at his softness.

Your first text from Frank pinged on Monday morning just as you got into work. When you opened the message you were greeted with a photo of a very happy looking Benji.

Benji hopes you have a great day at work.

You smiled, replying:

That's very sweet and thoughtful of him, thank you! 😊

On Wednesday afternoon you took a selfie of you with Rowan, a scruffy mixed breed and one if your regular senior dogs who was in for his check-up.

Hope Benji's not the jealous type, been spending a lot of time with this old man today!

The response had you feeling warm.

He's in good hands 😊

On Thursday late morning Frank sent you a photo of a sleeping Benji, presumably on his bed. The only part of Frank visible was his bare arm curled around him.

The bros are getting a lie-in today, you jealous now? 💤 Sorry 🙂

Very! Benji looks so cute and peaceful, but where's the big dawg at?

A few minutes later he replied with another photo. You allowed yourself an inner squeal as this time he had included himself in it, hair looking adorably soft and disheveled by sleep, his half-lidded eyes looking at the camera and even although the covers were pulled up it was obvious he was, at the very least, topless.

You texted back before you could overthink it too much.

Aw he's cute too!

He replied with smile emoji and you returned to work. The muscles in his arms had definitely given you something to think about and you had a bit of a hard time reigning your concentration back in for the rest of the day. Thankfully it wasn't too hectic.

You called him after work to tell him you'd picked a place to eat, a cosy Indian restaurant that Karen had recommended to you, and that he could come to yours to pick you up tomorrow night at seven. Even though you'd hung out casually already, this 'date' was getting you nervously excited.

Frank was feeling same way. You'd said it wasn't anything fancy so he'd thrown on a black shirt with jeans hoping he looked okay. When he buzzed and you came down he was staring at you like you were chocolate cake.

You grin as you greet him. "Hi! Everything okay?"

He swallows and nods, you can see the nerves on his face.

"Yeah, you just... you look real pretty is all, feelin' like I'm lucky."

You dip your head and take his arm. "Thank you, you're not the only one!"

As you walked to the restaurant you had a sudden thought.

"Benji's not gonna be all alone tonight is he?"

"Nah he's with Karen, his favourite dog sitter. She gives him way too many treats." He grumbles with a slight smile.

"Ahh, I was just worried, y'know just in case it's a late night."

Frank raised his brows. "Oh? Well you ain't got nothin' to worry about sweetheart."

The restaurant was gorgeous, full of multicoloured pepper fairy lights draped all around. The food was absolutely delicious and you ordered a couple of different things and had way too much fun feeding them to each other. After polishing off a bottle of house red, you realise you're staring across the table at Frank like he's dessert.

"I uh, guess we should get the bill..."

Those warm brown eyes are looking right back into yours and he's stroking over your hand. "Yeah..."

You try unsuccessfully to pay for both of you but he insists it's on him. It's only right he says, gentlemanly. But he assures you he's totally a feminist and knows you're a strong, independent woman who doesn't need a guy to buy her dinner and you just laugh, falling against him.

"Walk me home?" You ask him when you're standing outside in the slightly chill night. He offers you his arm.

"I was just thinking," you say as you reach your door, "about how I've had such a great time with you the past couple of weeks..."

"Yeah," Frank agreed, "me too."

"And uh," you fiddled with your keyring. "I was thinking that I really like you..."

"Oh yeah? S'funny cos I was thinkin that too."

You stepped in ever so slightly closer and you could almost feel the heat of him.

"You know what else I was thinking?"

Frank cleared his throat, his eyes looking right into your soul. He'd been a gentleman all evening, so considerate and patient with you, not trying to rush anything which you wholly appreciated, but the tension and heat that had been building between you the whole night was becoming too much to bear. You were yearning for him to take control and just take you. There was no doubt that he wanted it too.

"Frank, If you don't kiss me I'm gonna-"

His mouth was on you before you could think of a threat. He was kissing you slow, but god so firm and sure and you felt your toes curling in your shoes as you both stood there entangled in the street outside your apartment building.

When he eventually stopped you were breathless. He gazed at you, his thumb running lightly along your jaw as he still held your face.

"You're gonna what, sweet girl?"

You laughed and he chuckled along with you. "I dunno exactly, I was just hoping you would do it and I wouldn't have to think of a real threat!"

"Was that okay?" He asks.

"Yeah." You breathed out in a sigh. "Come upstairs?"

Frank planted a gentle kiss on your forehead. "If you're sure you want..."

You grabbed his arm and pulled him to the door quickly turning your key in the lock.

"I want."

You barely make it to the top of the stairs, halting on the way up with frantic touches while you explore each other, but now you're kissing him up against your door. His hands are up around your face, curled around your neck, weaving through your hair, but you knew he was letting you take the lead, controlling how far you want this to go, but all you crave and need is for him to touch you, to consume you. You grab his hand, pushing it down to clamp firmly against your ass hoping he'll get the message that you want this, you want him.

He tentatively squeezes and as you moan into his mouth he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping between your lips and meeting yours messily as you grasp and pull at his chest and shirt trying to get even closer. You fumble with your keys unable to focus as you can't keep your mouths off each other. He eventually takes them from you, hoisting you up by the ass to wrap your legs around his hips as he manages to open the door and carry you inside. He pushes you up against the back of the door as it slammed shut, letting you down slowly as he kisses and nips at your neck with a hunger that feels like it comes from deep in his bones. Your body arches against his as his hands are on you again, skimming down your chest and stomach and pushing the fabric of your dress hard up at the apex of your thighs making you keen.

"Frank, please..." You beg.

"Yeah?" he holds his hand there still, waiting for your consent to keep going, you can feel the heat of it against your core.

"Yeah... Frank, just touch me, please." you breathe shakily against him as he quickly hooks his hand under the hem of your dress, tracing his fingers over the damp fabric of your underwear. He kisses you, at the same time dipping his hand into the front of your panties and finding just how wet you are for him.

"God...damn." He curses, drawing your slick arousal up and over as he starts circling his fingers against your clit. You moan high and desperate, letting your legs spread wider to give him better access as the tension inside you is stretched so thin like an elastic band ready to snap at any moment, so turned on that you know you weren't going to last long. He watches you, drinks you in as he easily works you closer to your climax, your legs shaking as you pant against his neck. You palm the front of his jeans, squeezing the delicious thickness of his cock in your hand drawing a deep groan from him that sets you right on the edge.

"Ohh... oh Frank I'm gonna c-come-"

"Yeah sweetheart, I got you..."

He never takes his eyes off you as he curls his thick fingers into your wet heat, thumb pushing against your clit and you're gone, whimpering and grinding as your cunt pulses around him, rolling waves of pleasure coursing through your entire body. Your mouth hangs open and he catches your bottom lip in his teeth, sucking gently.

"Shit... that was..." you gasp against him.

The way he grins, licking your juices from his fingers as if it was ambrosia when he pulls away, you almost jump him right there. Instead you manage to keep it together enough to guide him to your bedroom, wrenching his shirt off on the way, smoothing your hands over the scars old and new that mark the broad muscled expanse of his bare chest. You tug him along with impatience, unzipping your dress and letting it drop to the floor, flinging anything in your way to one side before pulling him down onto the mattress over you. "Beautiful." He murmurs, taking the view of you in as he cages you beneath him before kissing his way down your neck, his mouth warm and wet across your collarbones and the tops of your breasts. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, arching off the bed as he makes his way down your body, pulling down the cups of your bra to lick and suck at your nipples. You moan and writhe and then can't help giggling as he trails his tongue down your stomach, swirling around your navel and lower towards the waistband of your panties. He hooks his fingers over the top and pulls them down your legs as you wriggle to try and help him get them off.

"Baby you taste so sweet, I gotta have more..." he rasps, and you nod vigorously, your heart skips a beat at the way he gently presses your thighs apart, reverently kissing his way to your centre as he hikes your knees up and then,

...oh god.

He laps his tongue slow and sure over your clit, swirling and sucking it into a kiss before plunging it inside you. You shudder at the sensitivity, the hot scratch of his stubble on your skin, gasping as the deep groan he lets out vibrates right through you as the taste of you fills his senses. You can't stop your hips from bucking up into his mouth as he works it over you humming with satisfaction. Huge strong arms curl around your thighs, fingers pressing indents into your soft flesh as he holds you firm, taking what he wants and giving you exactly what you need. His nose nudges against your clit over and over and the way you respond with a whimper and the tightening of your thighs around his head is all the encouragement Frank needs to keep going.

"Good girl," He growls out between swirling the tip of his tongue around that little bundle of nerves. His hand slides up your body to massage and squeeze your breasts, "such a good girl..."

His praise pushes you over the edge, your eyes flutter shut, head tilting back, fingers gripping for his shoulders and your back bowing up off the bed as it hits you. You bury your fingers in his hair, the desperation in your pleas as you come undone going straight to Frank's cock.

You moan long and loud, grinding against his mouth, your pussy clenching as you want nothing more than to have him inside you filling you up. "Frank, I want you... I wanna feel you..."

He licks up everything you have to give and no sooner than the aftershocks of your orgasm start to subside, Frank is up off the bed, whipping off his belt and pushing down his pants and boxers. You watch, practically drooling as you get your first look at him naked, rolling on the condom he snatched out of his back pocket and holy hell he's everything you've fantasised during all your lonely nights. He crawls up your body, hand softly trailing up your leg, hip, and caressing over the swell of your breast to finally settle at your neck, lightly stroking as he looks down at you. He's waiting for permission, but you can see it in his eyes and the tautness of his body that he wants you just as badly as you want him. He sucks in a sharp breath as your fingers close lightly around the hard shaft of his cock, sliding the tip of him through your arousal. You guide him inside you, eyes never leaving his, lips parted and quivering with the breath you exhale as he stretches you blissfully open. When he's fully sheathed deep within you wrap your legs around him, immediately addicted to the sound he makes and the sheer haze of sensation that burns through you as he starts to move. The urgency has faded now that you've reached this point - this slow dance where the rest of the world fades into the background and it's just the two of you. He noses your cheek and you smile, sharing a little huff of breath as he reflects it back at you. As you close your eyes lost in the sensation of each long drag of his cock he catches your lips in his. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes the heat within you burn even brighter and hotter.

He coaxes a soft sigh from you as he takes his time, his hips moving back and forth slow and steady. You're torn between chasing the inevitable fireworks and wanting this feeling to last forever. Your hands flow over the shifting muscles of his back and furrow in his hair as his lips trail up the side of your neck and under your jaw. His hand grips your thigh firmly pushing it up higher and you gasp as his thrusts hit even deeper.

"So good sweetheart, so fuckin' good.."

You can only moan your agreement, pulling his lips to yours again and holding him tightly as he's pushing you closer to your edge yet again.

You pull at his arm urging him to roll you both over and he does, taking in how gorgeous you look, how fucking lucky he is as you start moving your hips and riding him. You're looking at him too, with such passion. This supposed fearsome beast of a man you had under you, now looking up at you so adoringly. Wanting you. Needing you.

"God..." He groans, seeing you rise and fall on his cock like that. "what did I do to deserve you?"

You smile against his lips. "You talked to me," you replied, kissing the corner of mouth while you rock your hips, his hands settling there and stroking your skin. "and you like animals.... mm, and you make me laugh,"

"I do." Frank nods, his hands sliding up you back and pressing you closer.

"And oh, you make me feel good."

Frank catches your lips in his, kissing you deeply. "Issat right?"

You hum, nodding slow as you luxuriate in the delicious drag of his cock. When you reach your fingertips down to your clit his entire body jolts with a grunt.

"Yeah, Frank, feels real good..."

Breath and moans mingle and rise, both of you quickly nearing the peak of your pleasure. You feel the rumble of his groan right through you as you rake your nails over his back.

He meets your movements with his hips and your eyes flutter shut as he caresses your breasts. He can't stop staring, the way your eyelashes kiss against your skin, the soft undulation of your body over his, the perfect 'o' your mouth forms as you start to orgasm...

Then your eyes snap open and you're gazing back at him, basking in the unguarded expression of utter bliss blanketing his features. He's split wide open for you, nothing hidden, not since the bullet. He wants to give you everything but you think you'll be happy with just him.

You shower kisses all over his face as he pulses inside you, grasping and holding onto each other until you can't move anymore.

Afterwards, he cuddles you up in his arms under the covers, kissing you so soft and sweet on the forehead. "Think you'd wanna keep digging bullets outta me darlin'?

"You bump his nose with yours. "Think I just might Castle, as long as you don't mind me stealin' your dog?"

He smiles. "Well I don't think he'd mind one bit."

"Okay," you say, curling your pinky finger around his, "it's a deal."

Frank tags @sweetieswiftie @pedrito-friskito @saintmurd0ck @freshabogados @mindidjarin @peterman-spideyparker @castlesnchurches @mattmurdockspainkink @father4giveme @honeyedheartss @nice-work-bonedaddy @tea-and-wine @hellskitchenswhore @phoebe-danvers @grippingbeskar

[cuddly-dean-baby]

The Lawyers 3

PART 1 // PART 2

Pairing: Matt Murdock x GN!Reader, Frank Castle x GN!Reader

Words: 630

Crashing through your apartment’s window in the very early morning, you groan in pain as you land on your wounded side, which is covered in blood and bruises. “Fuck.”

“Never would have thought I’d hear that leave your mouth.” After hearing the voice, you jump to your feet, a plant pot in hand, ready to throw.

“What the fuck, Frank?” The pot plant slips out of your hand, splitting into pieces of shards and dirt. “How’d you get into my apartment?”

“Came through the same window you came in, but I didn’t fall over.”

“I- why are you here?”

“I heard about you and Red, wanted to see how you’re doing.”

“Why start now?” Placing a hand on your wound, you walk to the bathroom, Frank following you. As soon as you sit on the side of the tub, Frank leans against the doorframe. “Why start caring now? You don’t give a shit about him, and you and I haven’t talked since him and I got together, only when we see each other on some night jobs.”

“Where’s your kit?” Pointing at the sink, he goes to it to grab the first aid kit at the bottom of him. You watch him do it before he kneels in front of you, in between your legs. 

His hands grab the bottom of your shirt, waiting for the go-to. He sees you raise your arms as far as they could go, letting him peel your shirt off to show a slash across your stomach, blood continuing to pool out.

As he cleans away at it, he lets you fist his shirt. He watches the blood flow down to your legs and collect on the sides of the bathtub. 

“You can’t keep going out, especially if this is what happens.”

“Well, it’s not like he’s doing anything, or you.”

Once finished and the wound is bandaged, Frank stands up, still in between your legs. He watches you lean your head against his stomach. “I don’t know what to do, Frank.”

Nothing is said for a short moment before you feel his hands cup your face, lifting it up to meet his. As soon as you look into his eyes, his lips are pressed against yours. 

Separating from the kiss, your foreheads are pressed against each other. 

“(Y/N)?!” The both of you hear from the lounge.

“Bathroom!” Footsteps come to the said room, having enough time for Frank to be leaning against the sink and not like the both of you just kissed.

“I’ve been trying to call- oh fuck! What happened?” Karen exclaimed, eyes widened. 

“Work,” was all that was said from you, which she knew what you meant.

“Have you heard from Matt?”

“No, not since I left the office after yesterday morning with your coffees.”

“And why would they hear from him?” Frank asks, getting Karen’s attention.

“I’m sorry, why does it concern you, Castle?”

“Because I’m their friend, and I care about them.” Frank gets up from the sink and walks towards her. He stops when you step in front of him.

“Go make something to eat,” you tell him. Looking back at Karen, he walks out of the bathroom and to the kitchen.

As you sit back down on the tub, Karen crosses her arms. “When did he get here?”

“When I came back from patrol, which was around 10 minutes ago. He helped me with the cut,” you answered, pointing at the bandage. “Now, why are you asking about Matt?”

“He didn’t come to work today and he usually calls one of us that he won’t come in, which is very rare. When Foggy and I went to his apartment, he wasn’t there. Do you think he’s in trouble?”

“My best bet is that he’s at hers.”

MARVEL TAGS

@spnfanboy777 - @wolf-knights - @blurredx18 - @emmaandkodak - @chrisevansangel

SERIES TAGS

@yarrystyleeza​

[modern-vellichor]

hi!! totally cool if you don’t do this request:)

(reader is a female with female pronouns)

frank is drunk and the bartender called you to drive so he doeisn't (i dunno reader is the designated driver). you both start walking out and halfway down the street frank is like “oh I forgot my card.” you stay there and he runs back but then you're cornered by these three guys and he comes out sobered up because these three guys are verbally and physically harassing his girl. (you can choose the ending i haven’t thought that far ahead, he beats them up idk!!”

lots of love <33-RA

a/n; hello gorgeous, i absolutely love this idea!! tyvm for sending it to m. i hope you enjoy it.-warnings; drinking, violence, blood, some graphic descriptions, fluff too.

You were having such a relaxing evening. You were just about to change out of your work clothes into your pyjamas when the phone rang.

"Hey, dude," it was Roy, the bartender who worked down the street. "I got your buddy here, Fred or somethin', I dunno. But uh, he's fucked, so will you come and get him?"

"Yeah," you sighed, already putting your boots on. "I'll come get Frank."

It was freezing out. Normally you would have walked, but it was too cold. So you parked a little ways away from the bar and waltzed in. Frank's hard to miss. You spotted him as soon as you walked in, sitting quietly at the bar, alone, sipping his water. You thanked Roy as you leaned against the bartop.

"Hey, Frankie."

"Oh," he sounded surprised, which meant he was drunk. "where did you come from?"

"I came to take you home, c'mon."

He followed you without any resistance. You linked your arm with his. He was nice and warm against the cold wind of New York. You kept him close. You got to the corner, so close to the car when Frank stopped. He cold must have sobered him up because he let go of you and ran his hands over his pockets.

"Shit."

"What?" you dug your hands into your pockets.

"I forgot my wallet. Wait here."

You watched Frank jog down the street. You could still see the bar and so you leaned against the wall and waited. It couldn't have been two minutes before a group of young men approached. They circled you, their ringleader eyeing you up like a piece of meat.

Under normal circumstances, you would have beat the shit out of any guy who looked at you the wrong way. But they had your cornered and outnumbered. You could see the handle of a knife sticking out of someone's waistband. It would be a deathwish to try and fight. So you played cool. You politely asked them to leave you alone.

The ringleader was getting too close. His nose was almost touching yours. He leaned in, lips nearly brushing your neck. You pushed him, as hard as you could. He swung a punch and you ducked.

"You righteous bitch!"

Just as he reached for the knife, Frank loomed behind him. He grabbed the man by the shoulder and spun him around. Frank smashed his forehead into the man's nose. Blood gushed from the broken nose and the knife clattered to the ground. While Frank continued the vicious assault on the ringleader, you dived for the knife. You struggled for a little with another member of the group, but he was young and scrawny and more frightened than you. You growled as you kicked his shin and bit down onto his forearm. He let go of the blade. You swung the knife in semicircles in front of you, warding off the other group members. When their leader collapsed to the pavement in a bloody, barely breathing heap, they scattered, leaving the asshole behind.

Frank gazed at you amorously. You pocketed the knife and offered him your hand. He took if and pulled you tight against your side. You walked like that until you reached the car. Frank offered to drive, but you knew he was probably still drunk. You drove in silence, until you took a left five minutes later.

"This isn't the way to my place," Frank grumbled beside you.

"I know," you chirped.

You gazed at Frank out of the side of your eye. He looked totally indifferent, not a single bruise or scratch marring his beautiful skin.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Home."

Frank smiled in the passenger seat. He knew exactly where he was going now. Home was wherever you were, and that made Frank the happiest he had been in a very long time.

[lokislastlove]

All In Good Fun (Billy Russo x Reader) one-shot

Summary: You’re the newest camp counselor, but you refuse to tolerate the senior counselors bullying.

Warnings: Teasing, pranks, sexual tension, heavy petting, groping. (Under 5k)

Notes: This is my contribution to our dearest @saiyanprincessswanie 3500 challenge. Congrats love, I hope you know how much we adore you around here! PROMPT: “I said I was sorry! What else do you want from me?" & Enemies to Lovers! 💕

🔥

“Okay, newbie, show us your fire-building skills.”

The group of counselors chuckle in unison as you look around the circle nervously. Your friend Tara elbows you gently until you get up from your camping chair and bend over the pit at the center.

One by one you delicately balance the logs against each other into a teepee shape around a pile of smaller kindling. Once satisfied, you move to reach for the box of matches when suddenly a rock comes hurling toward you and knocks down your meticulously-built pile.

“What the fuck?”

“Not sturdy enough, if those logs fell over they could’ve hurt someone.” Billy smirks before biting into a red apple with a loud crunch.

“Come on, Billy. Don’t be a dick,” Frank drones from the chair to his right.

“Hey, I just want us all to be safe,” Billy defends with his mouth half full.

“Well maybe start with not throwing rocks at people,” you snap before setting back to work.

Billy chuckles as he watches you rearrange the logs to a log cabin structure instead. You put a small teepee in the center and light it, vindicated by the rapidly crackling wood that fills the circle with a warm glow and the pleasant scent of cedar.

You stand with your hands on your hips and raise a brow at the way Billy’s dark eyes drink you in, “anything else?”

He grins into his apple, using his snack to stifle the No-doubt inappropriate joke on the tip of his tongue. You huff and go back to your seat when he doesn’t answer.

“Don’t let him get to you,” Tara says. “He’s been working here longest so he likes to act like he owns the place.”

The group settles into comfortable side conversations, with occasional interruptions to share a funny story. You start to relax into the group until your nerves spike at the mention of truth or dare. Downing the rest of your beer, you lean back and try to make yourself as small as possible, with any luck they’ll forget you are here.

You make it through half the group, letting out a breath of relief when Billy chooses Frank to torment instead of you, but that’s when your luck runs out.

“Newbie,” Frank grunts as he wipes his mouth, having successfully eaten a whole banana from between Billy’s thighs without the use of his hands. “Truth or dare?”

You eye Billy warily, “uh, truth.”

“Ha… there’s a shock,” Billy sneers.

Frank punches Billy in the shoulder and turns back to you with a smirk, “who is more attractive, me or Billy?”

The group collectively “ooh”s and giggle as they lean forward awaiting your reply with eager grins. The silence is palpable broken only by the random pops of the fire, though you can’t quite understand why this seems like such an important question. Billy remains perfectly still, the orange firelight casting a menacing shadow on his humorless expression. Frank just smirks and nods encouragingly.

Your eyes narrow at Billy, bitterness on your tongue just at the sight of him. The choice is obvious and you answer without a hint of uncertainty, “Frank.”

The group erupts into laughter and mockery, nearly everyone throwing jabs at Billy or cheering for Frank. Frank stands up and does a little bow. “Guess that settles it Billy. I win.”

You laugh along with the rest of the counselors, glad that you made it through your turn without further embarrassment, though admittedly still a bit confused. What did he ‘win’ exactly?

“Billy and Frank have asked all the girls which of them is hotter,” Tara rolls her eyes. “Every damn year they ask everyone. And for the past three years they have been split down the middle, but now that you’re here…”

She gestures to Frank gloating happily and you watch him as you relax back in your chair. Reluctantly, you look to Billy and find him glaring at you through the flames. His hard dark gaze sends an icy shiver down your back despite the warmth of the fire only feet away.

Shit. Day one and you have already made a dangerous enemy.

—

“Hey newbie, go grab the ketchup will ya,” Billy waves you toward the kitchen as he takes a seat at the large picnic table with the rest of the counselors.

He knows your name, he just refuses to use it because he knows it annoys you. Tara throws you a sympathetic look from her spot on the bench, but you are the last person standing so it would be rude to tell someone else to do it.

“Anything else, boss?” You sass as you begrudgingly set down your plate and round the table.

“Why? You offering?” Billy smirks as he stuffs a chip in his mouth and his eyes flick down to your chest.

Your lip curls angrily and you kick up dirt as you storm toward the building fifty paces away. God he’s awful. That smug handsome face and that sonorous voice only make you hate him more. Why is it the cute ones are always the biggest assholes? … Probably because they can get away with it.

You grab the basket of condiments on the kitchen island and head back to the table. Your cohorts chatter grows louder as you weave your way through the large trees, in a hurry to get back to your food. You glare pointedly at Billy as he watches you return but then suddenly his eyes are on your feet and his expression changes.

“Snake!” He yells, pointing to the ground in front of you.

You look down and startle at the sight of something coiled among the grass in front of you. An unnaturally high girlish squeal escapes as you drop the basket and jump backward. You stumble and collapse ungracefully to the ground as Billy and the rest of the table howl with laughter.

“Oh man,” Billy exhales, wiping away tears through his fading giggles. “That was too easy.”

You frown and look down at the rubber snake laying among the spilled condiments. That fucking asshole. You stand and brush off your clothes as you clean up the mess you made.

“That was a good one,” you concede, patting Billy’s shoulder as you place the grassy ketchup on the table in front of him. “I’m gonna get you back for that.”

—

“Girl, are you sure you want to do this?” Tara asks as she follows you into the kitchen pantry. “Don’t you think you talking out your differences would be easier… and less messy?”

You hand her the jug of maple syrup while you fetch the bag of bird seed shoved to the back of the bottom shelf. You sigh as you stand up and turn to face her with a serious expression.

“Are you serious? After he dumped that full jar of spiders into my canoe yesterday?” You scoff. “No, I think he definitely deserves this.”

She winces at the memory of you screaming bloody murder out on the lake before tipping the boat over to escape. You had to swim all the way to shore while Billy laughed so hard he almost capsized too.

“Ok, yeah that was bad. But.. you did put pink hair dye in his shampoo and plastic-wrapped all the boys toilets…”

You chuckle at the thought of Billy’s irate expression as he ran screaming from the showers with a towel clutched around his waist and half of his dark hair dyed petal pink.

“Aw come on it was funny and it will wash out in a couple days. And the plastic wrap is a classic!”

“Uh huh, except you did it to all the toilets in the mens room and ended up pissing off all the boys,” Tara sasses with a raised brow.

You grimace, “yeah, Frank was pissed… but he forgave me when I reminded him of how he had to help me fix the cabin after Billy flipped all our furniture.”

Tara let’s out a tired sigh, “yeah, OUR furniture. That’s my point. While y’all are trying to one up each other, it’s the rest of us that have to suffer. We didn’t ask to be apart of all this. It would be better for everyone if you would just stop and get over all this prank rivalry bullshit.”

You look down guiltily. You know you can’t do it forever. The kids will be showing up in a couple more days and you are supposed to be the mature ones, set an example. Tara’s right, you can’t keep this up.

“Okay, I hear you. You’re right…” you bite your lip as you eye the syrup in her hand and the bird seed in yours, “but just let me do this last one. I can’t let him off that easy after the spiders. I promise just one more and I’ll be satisfied.”

You bat your lashes and smile pleadingly at her until she groans out, “ugh. Fine. But I’m just a look out. Ain’t no way I’m going to get caught messing with Billy, got me?”

“Totally fair,” you grin and follow her out of the kitchen and into the silent night.

The crickets chirp loudly as you sneak through the trees, trying to minimize the crunch of the pine needles beneath your feet. You round the main building and head for the small dirt clearing used as a parking lot. The slick black Mercedes stands out among the beaten up hand me down cars. The blue moonlight practically sparkles off its spotless surface, the epitome of Billy’s pride and joy. He loves this car more than anything and that makes it the perfect target for your revenge.

“He’s gonna kill you if you put syrup on this car. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he makes you lick it clean,” Tara whispers, one hand on her hip as the jug weighs heavy on her other arm.

“You’d probably be into that wouldn’t you,” you quip, giggling at the way she tries to kick you as you pass. “But don’t worry I’m not an idiot.”

You tear open the corner of the heavy plastic bag filled with nuts and sunflower seeds. You reach in and pull out a handful of seeds before tossing them onto the hood of the car. The loud clatter has Tara hissing and you flinch in fear as you look around, listening for signs of trouble.

“A bit louder please,” Tara drones sarcastically.

“Sorry,” you whisper as you dip your hand in and quietly place the food in little piles all over every available flat surface.

By the time you are done the bag is half empty and you decide to scatter a few more handfuls of feed onto the dirt surrounding the car, just for good measure.

“Okay,” you huff. “All done. With any luck by the time he finds this it will be covered in bird and squirrel shit.”

Tara shakes her head at you, but the faint smirk betrays her amusement. “So what’s this for?”

She holds out the half-gallon jug of maple syrup and you take it with a wry smile. “You’ll see.”

There are six medium sized counselor cabins, all divided down the center to creates two identical sides, each side houses two counselors. It’s one of the better accommodations for camp counselors you’ve experienced. Still, you have to make sure you play nice with your roommate and neighbors or things can get awkward quickly.

Billy, however, has his own cabin separate from the rest with a prime location, central to the camp and near the nicest restrooms. But best of all is the wez golden view of the sunrise over the lake. It was meant for the camp owner but, due to their reoccurring absence, Billy used his seniority to stake his claim years ago.

“Not uh,” Tara shakes her head as you peek around the corner of the boat house. “There is no way I’m going anywhere near that cabin, and neither should you.”

“I’ll be fine, I’m sneaky,” you wink. “Just keep an eye out for anyone wandering to the bathroom or something, okay?”

“Mmm,” she hums disdainfully. “I swear if you get caught I am hightailing it out of here.”

“Yeah yeah, I heard you.”

With one last smirk you leave her in the shadows of the boat house and sneak toward Billy’s cabin with the jug of maple syrup tucked snuggly under your arm.

The cabin is dark but the closer you get you can hear his faint stuttering snores through the open window. You squat beneath the battered wooden frame as you inch toward the door. The window is a no-go, simply trying to remove the screen would be enough to wake him. Thankfully, almost everyone leaves their doors unlocked.

As you reach the small step beneath the door you slowly unscrew the maple syrup and set it down beside you. You stand and ease open the notoriously squeaky screen door, careful not to make a sound.

You let out a small breath of relief as you reach for the handle of the solid wood door and it opens without resistance. The door groans quietly after a few inches and you hear his snores break before returning to their quiet rhythm.

You push it open enough for you to squeeze through and venture inside before you can lose your nerve. You reach back and grab the jug, using a nearby rock to wedge the screen door open for an easy escape.

Finally, you turn to look at the cabins dark interior. The moonlight shines through the windows just enough to let you make out the small kitchenette on the left, the loveseat and coffee table in the center and the full bed tucked in the corner on the right.

Squinting, you sneak closer to the bed to find him sprawled across the mattress, one arm hanging off the side along with half of his head. The pink in his messy black hair is still noticeable even in the dim lighting and it makes you smile. You hold your breath and adjust the jug in your hands before tipping it onto the ground.

The gelatinous sugar pools on the ground silently as you swirl the jug around to make a large puddle along the side of his bed. The sweet scent of maple fills the room causing Billy to twitch and grunt. Your heart pounds against your chest as he turns his head into the mattress before laying quiet once more.

“Shit,” you mouth breathlessly. That was close.

You slowly back away toward the door, covering the whole floor with the sticky substance. In your focused state you accidentally bump into the door causing it to groan and your nerves to jump. You turn on your heel and rush out the door with a silent giggle, too anxious to look behind you and see if he had woken up.

“What happened?!” Tara whispers nervously as you reach her and take her hand, dragging her back to your shared cabin.

You laugh as you toss yourself onto your bed, adrenaline still coursing through your body, “oh, he’s going to be so pissed.”

—

“Ants! Fucking everywhere!”

You bite your lip to keep from laughing and duck your head down over your plate, focused on your food instead of the wild man storming into the mess hall.

“And my feet were covered in syrup, I couldn’t even put on my shoes! Which means I had to walk barefoot to the shower. It took me twenty minutes to scrub them clean!”

You choke on your toast as a laugh bubbles up your throat. Tara kicks you under the table and you cough, casually taking a sip of your juice.

“You!” Billy roars, as he stomps over and shoves a finger in your face. “You’re gonna clean it up.”

“Clean what up?” You ask innocently.

“Don’t give me that, you know damn well what mess,” he slaps his hand on the table in frustration, making the trays and glasses shake.

“Sorry, I meant to say WHICH mess,” you smirk, an evil twinkle in your eye at the look of confusion on his face.

“The syrup in my cabin… wait, what else did you do?”

You shrug your shoulder and glance out the large side window with a partial view of the parking lot. You smile as a few birds flutter past the window and draw his attention.

“Wha…” he breaths, his jaw going slack as he stumble runs toward the back door.

You had gleefully watched as whole storm of birds and squirrels feasted atop his car until all that remained were scraps and droppings. Your plan had worked just as intended.

“My baby!” He screams as he stands in the open doorway before rushing out to wave away the stragglers stick pecking at his hood.

“Shit, girl. I’d start running if I were you,” Tara advises with a smirk, the rest of the counselors gathering outside to watch Billy’s breakdown with smothered laughter.

“No way, I’m no coward. He deserved it. But a promise is a promise, no more after this,” you grin victoriously and Tara nods her approval.

—

Later that evening, just as the sun is about to set, you find Billy still obsessively rubbing down his car with a kitchen rag and muttering angrily to himself. He had barely spoken to anyone all day and didn’t participate in any of the counselor bonding activities or prep duties. So finally, after several pleas from your fellow counselors, you swallow your pride and search for him with the intent to apologize.

“Billy?” Your voice comes out a bit meeker than you wish so you pause and clear your throat. “Look, I think we should come to some sort of truce. The kids will be here the day after tomorrow and we can’t do our jobs with all this hostility.”

“Hostility?” Billy stops and turns, face twisted in incredulity. “I played a few practical jokes, sure… but what you did was way beyond hostile.”

“I’m sorry, but… what? That ‘joke’ with the spiders was, in fact, very hostile.”

He scoffs, “they didn’t even touch you. You jumped in the water like a scared little girl so fast it was hardly worth the trouble.”

You grind your teeth, jaw clenching as you try to remember you are here to make amends, “I’m sorry, alright? That’s all I came here to say. I won’t be playing any more pranks.”

You hold out your hand as he nears you, his scowl mirroring yours as he looks down in what can only be described as disgust.

“You think you get to ruin my car and my cabin and all is forgiven?” He sneers. “I don’t think so newbie.”

You scoff and turn on your heel to leave, “fine. Whatever. Fucking asshole.”

“Bitch,” he calls after you but you don’t turn back. Can’t say you didn’t try.

At dinner there is a tension in the air. Tara is quiet and Frank is uncharacteristically outspoken, trying to keep up a light conversation that continues to die quicker than he’d like. You chalk it up to the unsettled dispute between Billy and yourself. His scowls and passive aggressive remarks make it clear he is still bitter, and it’s likely everyone can feel it.

You, however, couldn’t care less. He deserved to get taken down a peg. It’s probably the first time anyone has been able to serve him a piece of his own medicine… or perhaps you’re just the only one stupid enough to try.

“Well, tomorrow is our last day of freedom before the kids come. So I think we should call it a night and get some sleep while we can,” Frank announces when the table goes quiet.

Tara stands quickly and you frown as you watch her rush off from the table without looking at you. What’s gotten into her? She can’t possibly be mad at you. You tried to apologize, but Billy is an insufferable arrogant dick head.

“Hey,” Frank says softly, grabbing your elbow to stop you. “Uh, so I just want to say that everybody was talking and we decided that you and Billy really need to settle this before that kids come.”

“I tried, Frank,” you defend. “I apologized and he just insulted me. What else am I supposed to do?”

“I know, I know,” Frank rubs the back of his neck. “And I’m sorry too… about him.”

“It’s not your fault. Hopefully when the kids get here he’ll be so distracted he’ll forget all about it and we can move on.”

“Yeah…” he grumbles and nods when you wave Goodnight and head to your cabin.

Your eyes follow the circle of light from your flashlight as you walk to your cabin and stomp up the creaky wood steps. You open the door and sigh as you switch off the flashlight.

“Hey wha…” you freeze as the screen door slams behind you.

You look dumbstruck at Billy stretched across Tara’s bed, feet crossed with one hand behind his head and another holding a book. He glances above the pages with narrowed eyes, likes he’s more offended to see you here than you are him.

“What are you doing here?” You growl.

“Well, someone turned my cabin into an ant farm so I had to relocate.”

“But… where is Tara?”

He drops the book to his chest with an annoyed sigh, “she is bunking with Frank, apparently. Very scandalous in my opinion. What will the children think? But they insist that this is for our own good.”

Your nostrils flare as you suck your teeth, “great.”

“Sure, for you maybe.”

You take a calming breath, “just stay on your side and try to keep your snoring to a minimum.”

He sits up suddenly, swinging his long legs off the bed to sit on the edge. “I think if anyone should be pissed about this it should be me. How do I know you’re not going to hang a steak over my head and try to feed me to the wolves?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you roll your eyes. “I respect wolves far too much to feed them something so bony and bitter.”

He scoffs out a laugh, “you really are a bitch, you know that?”

“Hey I’m not the asshole here,” you defend, resting your hands on your hips. “I said I was sorry! What else do you want from me?”

He goes quiet, glaring back at you until you shift and jut out your hip in irritation. His gaze follows your movements and you watch his eyes dilate as he scans your figure unapologetically. It is… disarming, to say the least. You cross your arms again, subconsciously trying to cover your body which causes him to smirk up at you through his thick lashes.

“What else are you offering?” His voice deepens as he lets his tongue poke out to wet his lips.

Your jaw slackens at his salacious tone, yet you cannot find the words, or coherent thoughts, for what it does to you.

“N-nothing,” you stammer getting flustered by your own weakness. God, why does he have to be so hot?

He hums and combs his fingers through his hair to brush it away from his face then stands. You take a startled step back by the unexpected movement. Has he always been so tall?

“I don’t bite… unless you’re into that,” he chuckles as he slowly nears you with his hands up as though approaching a nervous kitten.

“What the fuck are you doing, Billy? I apologized, okay. No more pranks.” It has to be a joke. He’s trying to get a rise and embarrass you.

“God, you’re cute when you’re mad,” he brings his hand up to pinch your chin and you shake him off stubbornly.

“Stop,” you frown, though your voice wavers at his soft touch and the way he looms over you so easily in the small space.

“Make me,” he smirks with a teasingly arched brow.

His breath is hot over your face and you shudder at the way your body yearns for him to embrace you. Both of his hands find your shoulders, those long nimble thumbs rubbing smooth circles over your strained muscles. Despite your best efforts to remain angry you find yourself relaxing into his touch.

“Billy,” you breathe as he dips his head down to yours, lips so close you can almost taste him. Your eyes close in anticipation… but nothing happens.

A small disappointed whimper slips past your lips when you open your eyes to find him pulling back and looking down at you with a victorious grin.

“Admit it,” he demands.

“Admit what?”

“Admit that you think I’m hotter than Frank. We both know that’s why you’ve been trying so hard to hate me.”

You scoff, “are you serious?”

“Say it,” he prods again and you twist against his hold, pulling his hands from your shoulders.

“God, you’re such an arrogant prick,” you try to turn away, intent on climbing into bed, but he stops you by slipping his hands around your hips to grope your ass.

You gasp softly and try to stifle the moan as he kneads you through your shorts. Shocked and secretly turned on by his sudden show of dominance.

“Mmm,” he hums happily. “Even better than I expected.”

“What are you doing?” You manage.

“I’m calling a truce,” he smirks before his lips crash against yours.

The kiss steals your breath away. Unlike your previous nervous first kisses, Billy’s confidence overwhelms you. It’s reflected in the way he is able to mold you to him, bend you to his will without a single word. You find yourself pliant to his subtle directions, so much so you barely notice when he has you laying back atop your mattress.

“Wha…”

“Do me a favor and stop thinking for a minute,” he stops you with a finger to your lips.

You nod dutifully, enchanted by his calm commanding voice and hypnotic brown eyes. His energy calls to a docile submissive side within you and you know, in that moment, you will let him do whatever he wants. The freedom of relinquishing that control is a surprisingly heady experience that leaves you fuzzy and buzzing with excitement.

“Good girl,” he praises when you relax into the bed, though you’re limbs still shudder slightly in anticipation.

A gasp catches in your throat when he cups your jaw and turns your head so that he can pepper kisses down your neck. Moans slip out without care, no longer concerned with propriety - or dignity for that matter.

“I could get used to those noises,” he chuckles as his hand slides beneath your shirt, slowly trailing toward your chest.

You arch your back trying to get him there faster. “Please,” you whine as he tickles the skin beneath your breasts.

“Mmm, so she begs too,” he teases and bites his lip as he watches you squirm beneath him. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

“You.”

“No no no, you can do better than that.”

You groan in frustration, your hips swiveling as his thigh gently presses against your core. You push into him, grinding against him as your need threatens to turn you ravenous. “Billy, please… just… use me.”

You don’t know why you said that or where that came from. Dirty talk has always made you feel silly, and this is the first time you’ve had to beg a man to touch you. It feels awkward to hear yourself in such a state, but you are far beyond caring.

“Oh, baby,” he groans, lowering his pelvis to rest against your stomach. “Do you feel how hard it makes me when you say things like that?”

All you can muster is a frustrated groan as your greedy hands travel up and down his chest, trying desperately to pull him closer now. Your neck strains in your attempt to reach his lips, he smiles into your light kisses before dragging a hand up your thigh. His fingers feel cool against your hot skin as they dip beneath the hem of your shorts.

“Oh,” your eyes roll as his deft hands meet your slit over your panties.

He presses firmly along the center, humming at the slick wetting his finger through the fabric. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

Your head tilts back in pleasure as he teases your clit. Barely a minute and you’re already nearing the crest of your first orgasm, embarrassingly really.

Your breathing picks up and he groans as you let out breathy moans of pleasure, higher and higher until the sound of the door rattling in its frame tears it all away.

“Shit!” You exclaim, sitting up and pushing Billy away.

He rolls off of you and reaches for your pillow to cover his crotch just as Frank takes a step into the room.

“Look, maybe this was a bad i-“ Frank stops his apology as he takes in the scene. His lips part in shock before twisting into a sly smile. “Oh, uh - never mind then.”

You bury your face in your hands, hot with humiliation. Oh god, will the embarrassment never end? Billy chuckles as you whine and fall back onto the mattress. You hear the quick zip of his jeans as he kicks them off followed by the click of the lock on the door.

“Now, where were we.”

Tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @caffiend-queen @queenoftheworldisdead @emberenchanted @buttercupfangirl @needleandhammer @lokiswildheartcantbebroken @thiskindahotkindamusic @threeminutesoflife @jaspearl31 @queenyanna111 @phildunphyisadilf @delightfulheroshoeflap @mischief2sarawr @thebeastywithin666

[hellsburners]

frank castle masterlist

☆ smut | ✿ fluff | ♡ requests/asks

→ back to main masterlist

pain and suffering ☆ w/matt murdock focus on me ☆

[kjs-s]

HEIST RESCUE

Pairing: Frank Castle x reader It can be read as romantic or platonic

Summary: Frank helps the reader during and after a robbery

 Word Count: 1252

Warnings: mention of bank robbery, injuries, and threats, nothing graphic

Prompt: “You weren’t supposed to survive this heist.”

A/N This is my second entry for @caplanbuckybarnes's  foreverwriting challenge.

You opened your eyes and had no idea where you were. Looking around you realized that you apparently were lying on a couch in a house you have never been in. Feeling a little dizzy you tried to piece together what you could remember about your day fearing the worst about your current state. However, the throbbing headache you were experiencing on the back of your head wasn't helping you concentrate at all. So, instead you wobbly started to get up so you can leave before the person that brought you here came back.

As luck would have it your host opened the door at that moment carrying two grocery bags.

''You're awake, that's good. Don't get up just yet you might not be strong enough. How is your head? Does it still hurt?'' He put the bags down and fixed the ice pack that had been dropped to the floor when you woke up and moved your head. You didn't answer him because you recognized him. The man whose house you were in was none other than Frank Castle. You knew about him and were trying to figure out why he was seemingly taking care of you.

''Are you alright (Y/N)? I saw your name from your ID in your bag. You can check later that everything is there. But for now, just take it easy. I will make you something to eat and we can talk in the meanwhile.''

Still confused you decide to ask what was happening and what you were doing in his house. You had a ton of questions you could ask him but you were still a little apprehensive to just start questioning him.

''What is the last thing you remember about today?'' He brought a chair and placed it next to the couch to check on you a little bit.

''I woke up and had breakfast as usual. Then I went to work. '' You paused trying to figure out if anything out of the ordinary happened and then it hit you.

''I was talking to Joshua, the manager, in his office when I heard people yelling in the front. From then on nothing. What happened?'' You feared for the worst.

''I don't want to overwhelm you with too much right now but there was a heist. Everyone you work with is fine but the police are still looking for the people responsible. I managed to stop them. However, two of the people got away when I was trying to save you. I won't get into details right now. You were unconscious for eight hours so lay down while I’ll be making dinner. We will talk about everything in the morning.''

Dinner was good and you were grateful that Frank gave you his clothes to sleep in since yours would be uncomfortable.

True to his words he joined you for breakfast the next morning and filled you in on everything that transpired the day before.

''First of all, how are you feeling?''

''Better, thank you so much for everything. I don't think my head needs any more ice yet I can still feel the bump. Did I hit it somewhere during the heist?''

''Not exactly. Listen (Y/N), there is no easy way to say this but one of the reasons I was there to save you yesterday is that you weren't supposed to survive the heist.'' He gave you some time to process the information and continued narrating everything.

''I had been out gathering information on a gang the night before. While I was at a bar trying to listen to their plans I overheard them talking about the heist. They were so confident that nobody could hear them that they gave me all I needed to stop them. Including the part about your manager wanting you dead. I don't know why but he did. And I'm afraid he might track you down to try again.'' He felt like you would not believe him or accuse him of lying to you. Surprisingly you were calm about what he had just told you.

''I know exactly what this is about. Joshua, my manager, has been forging some of his paperwork and sending money to some of his and his wife's accounts. We wouldn't have found out anything if she hasn't complained about an issue with her transfer a month ago. The director of the bank asked me to look into this and that's when I found out what has been going on. I gathered some information and I actually have an appointment with someone at the Federal Trade Commission to hand them the evidence I found. I can't believe he would try to kill me.'' You tried to look calm even though you were terrified.

''He hit the back of your head with a heavy paperweight. He would use the heist to cover his actions. But you have nothing to worry about. As long as you are here I will protect you from him. Now, let's decide what you want for dinner.''

You had dinner and afterward, you went back to sleeping on the couch exhausted from the day you had.

When you woke up the next morning Frank had already left. He had made you breakfast and you found a note telling you that he would have been back at night and not to worry.

He came back late in the afternoon looking like he had been in a fight.

''Frank are you ok? Are you hurt?'' You checked to make sure.

''No, I'm not.'' He tried to step away from you to go further into the house so that nobody could see you.

''Then why are there bruises all over your face?'' You closed the door behind me and tried again to check if he was hurt anywhere.

 He was reluctant to talk but seeing you worried about him made him realize that you were trying to get your mind off of the danger you were in and the worry about your life.

''I tried to find out where the people that robbed the bank are. I found some of them and made sure they wouldn't bother anyone anymore. About Joshua, I heard that the police are still looking for him. I have someone I trust monitoring his house to check whether he will go back there.''

''Thank you for everything you are doing for me. I called a friend of mine earlier to ask him for some advice on everything that is going on.''

''Why would you do that? You have no idea if your friend is in on everything or not. Tell me his name so I can check him out.''

''There is no need. I completely trust him. But if you insist, his name is Matt Murdock. He is one of my lawyers.''

''I know him and you are absolutely right to trust him. So, what did he tell you?''

''Not much, just that if the police find Joshua that he would spend life in prison. And of course to stay hidden for now. I didn't mention you I only told him I am staying with a friend.''

''Very well, I am glad that you are not putting yourself in more danger. I can assure you that you are safe to stay here for as long as it takes.''

After months of staying with Frank Joshua was finally arrested. But because you needed to testify Frank offered you to stay with him until the end of the trial for your protection.

[petertingle-yipyip]

WORLD CLASS SINNER - FRANK CASTLE

one - deja vu

tags: n/a two // masterlist // MAD AT GOD (DD CANON)

welcome back to the MAG universe! this time around we are rolling through the Punisher series. i’m so excited to develop her friendship with Frank and see what happens between her and Billy!

Pairing: Billy x Reader (casual), Frank x Reader (platonic)

Word Count: 5, 728

Summary: Being back in the Kitchen almost immediately pulls her back into a fight. But without Matt, what has she become?

You moved over quickly, using Luke as footing to jump from after he knocked her into a short spin so she faced away from you. You moved in a fluid motion to connect the wires between your wrists as you hooked one leg over her shoulders and jammed the other against her spine. You leaned forward enough to get the wire across her throat before you dropped to land on your feet.

She was quick to flip her sai in her grip and slam it through your thigh. Your leg buckled and she used the chance to free herself, spinning to slam her foot against the side of your head. You fell to your back with a wet thump and you pushed to your elbows, craning your neck to see her weapon skewering your thigh. The red stained tip poked through and any movement sent a sharp pain through your body, eminating deep within your bone. She dared to move closer and you kicked the opposing foot against her chest.

Once that foot landed back on the ground, the pain on the other side made you cry out. You managed to drag yourself to your feet and stood unsteadily, hopping on your good leg to try and maintain balance. You reached awkwardly behind yourself for your staffs, having to connect them quickly and use them as a cane for the moment.

“You’ll die down here with us.” Elektra’s voice taunted you, though she was no where to be seen. “As you should.”

You hobbled in a small circle while you tried to find where the voice was coming from. But there was no one, not even the ghost of footsteps or shuffles to give her away. The rest of your group was gone, as if they never came down with you. Not even the elevator.

Hadn’t they just been there?

The tunnels around you stretched as far as you could see, dripping and collecting small puddles. Your labored breathing filled the silence between drips and you felt something eerily out of place about the whole thing.

“Come on then.” You challenged weakly. A deep breathe before you screamed into the wet darkness. “Come out and kill me!”

“Y/N.” He said calmly and you spun so fast you nearly slipped in the water. But when you glanced down to find your footing, you were in a puddle of blood. All of the water had turned to blood. You closed your eyes tightly and shook your head, assuming it was your own mania creeping in, but when you opened them the sight hadn’t changed.

“This is what you wanted.” He used the same eerily calm tone, even as the ground shook beneath your feet.

“You should’ve left.” You said angrily as the drips began to land on your forehead. “You shouldn’t be here, Matt.”

“Then why didn’t you keep him safe?” Elektra appeared at his side, walking around him like a predator taunting her prey. Her fingers trailed along the back of his shoulders.

But even in the dim light, neither of them looked like themselves. They were soaking wet and it looked it was water on their bodies, but it reflected red once it hit the ground. Their skins were tinted blue, cyanotic to match their puffy lips and swollen bodies. Their eyes were hollow, sunken in and hardly even there. Everytime their mouths open, blood spilled. They looked like corpses that had been left at the bottom of the river for months to decay in silence.

“I tried.” You answered but the sound barely registered.

Your eye suddenly stung and when you reached to wipe it, your hand came back with fresh red blood. The scar above your eye, the deep gash your mask left from your fight with Fisk, was now fresh and seeping into your eye. The scar on your cheekbone stained the lower half of your face. Your chest snapped and the cartilage fell loose and the old cracks in your ribs fell open. One by one, old injuries became fresh again and each one felt like a hit to your stamina, to your strength, until you fell back to your knees.

Elektra appeared in front of you now, reaching with a sadistic smile for her sai that still dripped with your blood. You tried to back away but landed against Matt, who moved quickly to pin you to the ground. You struggled against him, but he leaned more of his weight against you and left you flailing and kicking.

“Matt? Matt, what are you doing?” You said in a panic but your own blood filled your mouth.

Elektra twisted the weapon in your leg and you screamed out, a gurggled sound that nearly choked you. You kicked your other foot at her but it moved through her, as if she was never really there.

“You’ll die. Painfully.” She threatened before a second sai appeared in her hands.

She climbed over your body, knees on either side of your ribs as she lined her weapon with the center of your chest. By then you were crying, hair sticking to your face and thrashing your body under her weight. But she didn’t move. Matt didn’t move. Instead, they offered each other wicked smiles before both looking down at you.

“You could’ve saved me, Y/N/N… Why didn’t you?” Matt asked.

You opened your mouth to answer but before your voice could find you, Elektra’s weapon began to press into your chest.

Breaking the skin earned a whine.

Her jamming the heel of her hand against it to break through your sternum drew a groan.

Her slow, intentional pressure against your heart earned a plead.

“I can fix this.” You tried, barely a whisper above the shattering thuds of collapsing rock.

“If you could’ve…” She said lowly, leaning forward to meet your panicked eyes, dripping blood from her lips. “You would’ve already.”

Your eyes went wide at the wet sound of the sai piercing your heart.

———————————————————————————————————————

You shot up in your bed and a hand instantly moved to your cheek. The skin was clear of blood but covered in a layer of sweat. You felt above your brow and found the same. With a small noise of stress, you threw your comforter back and shuffled to the bathroom. A hand was rubbing the center of your chest, haunted by the tip of Elektra’s weapon.

You flipped the light, squinting through it for a minute until your eyes adjusted. You planted both hands against the countertop and leaned in to see the faint lines of scars around your eye. The subtle discolorations that followed the shape of your mask, permanent memories of your time as a vigilante, of that hole deep inside you that you couldn’t quite fill. Quantico had done very little towards that gaping feeling, that hole somewhere too deep for you reach that felt like it would swallow you everyday.

You thought that FBI training, getting away from the Kitchen, would maybe be good for you. It’d be time to breathe, maybe even grieve. But those words didn’t seem to mean anything to you anymore. It just felt like they were adding to that depth, sucking out any remnants of progress you had made.

Maybe coming home wasn’t going to be any better.

You blew out a sigh and splashed your face with cold water, a contrast to the heat that seemed to live in your blood now. You felt warm, everywhere you went. No matter the temperature outside, you were boiling inside. But if someone were to touch your skin, they’d never know.

That was who you were now. Not Y/N. Not even Exodus. You were someone else. Someone with Y/N’s memories and tendencies, with Exodus’ mania and skills, but other things were left unaccounted for. Who’s morals did you maintain? Who’s relationships were important?

Who’s heart beat in your chest? Who’s blood was in your veins?

But if you thought about it too long, Matt’s voice would creep into your thoughts. Random things he had told you throughout the time you knew him. Empty promises he made to Exodus. Honest sentiment he gave to Y/N. The last words you heard him say.

You shoved those thoughts to a deep corner of your mind as you headed back to the living room. The chest in the closet seemed to call out to you. The chest full of boxing memorabilia pertaining to Matt’s father, some of his own collection and some you were able to add for him, one of his bibles, and the false bottom that allowed him to hide his suit.

The suit that would never be there again.

You sighed and shook your head before heading to your bedroom to find clothes for the day. You might as well get ready since you knew your mind wasn’t going to let you sleep again anytime soon.

Wasting as much time as you could, you got ready and headed out into the city. You had been back from Quantico for about a week and you were trying to settle back into the Kitchen, but the nightmare of Midland haunted you every night. It was a little different everytime, sometimes the words they spoke to you changed and once it was Matt that killed you with your own blade, but it always the same premise. The three of you, everything coated in blood, and you died.

It was either your conscious gnawing at you and refusing to let you escape, even in sleep, or it was the universe telling you that death would find you. Either way, it never left your mind.

As you were out, you saw Matt in every face. Everywhere you went, you saw him. You almost called his name a few times until you got a better look and remembered he was dead. It felt like you were losing yourself in the grief, in the hopes that it was all a bad dream. Maybe you were still dreaming?

But then someone bumped your shoulder walking by and you knew you weren’t. Weeks had passed and you still couldn’t fully stomach the fact that he was gone. In your mind, you just wanted him there and he was everywhere but nowhere all at once.

You were wandering your usual streets, fighting through the relentless deja vu, stopping at one of the few lunch spots you missed, and ended up at the only building you thought could help. It was one of the few places you didn’t avoid prior to your time away, and now, maybe it was the only chance to cool the blaze under your skin. To fill the hole.

You walked in with a shaky breath and found Father Lantom outside the confessional, talking to one of the nuns with hushed urgency. But as you approached, he sent the nun away and turned to you with a small but welcoming smile. He gestured to the small, private conversation box and you simply nodded. He stepped inside first and you followed suit into your side about a minute later.

“Good to have you back.” Father Lantom said after a short silence. “How was your training?”

“Good, yeah, it was good.” You answered simply. “Dex said everything went really well so now it’s just waiting for approval or something, I don’t really remember…”

“It was quick.”

“Yeah, it was a specialty.. Accelerated… Accelerated program.” Your eyes fell and you noticed you were wringing your fingers. Since when did you do that? “Look, Father, I don’t know if there’s something I’m supposed to say to start this but…”

“Whatever you need to say, Y/N.” He offered genuinely. “Whenever you’re ready to say it.”

“I keep having this nightmare, Elektra and Matt and me. Under Midland and we all die together… Usually El does it but Matt’s done it too, killed me. And I thought being away would make it easier. But it feels worse… I can’t sleep. I hardly eat. I just feel empty.”

“Have you ever felt anything like this before?”

“When I was younger, when I realized what I was going to have to do in the Red Room. I didn’t feel like a person…”

“Hmm..”

“But then I got out and out of nowhere I meet Matt and suddenly… It was like my heart was beating in my chest for the first time.” You couldn’t fight the sad smile that stretched your lips. “Now, it’s like anytime I think about him, my heart can’t beat. It’s just there, weighing down my chest like a rock.”

“When Matt would first tell me about his night activities, he was so twisted up about some of the things he found.” He spoke carefully, treading a fine line between breaking the seal of confession and finding the details that he hoped would offer you comfort. “Some of the things he had seen, what some people in this town were capable of…”

“People like me?”

“No. He never spoke unkindly about you, even before he knew.”

That seemed to fill the hole a little but the blaze remained.

“Yeah, he wasn’t the type…” You sniffled. “Were you able to help him?”

“What I offered wasn’t the help he needed. I could offer bible verses and quotes to him every day, but he knew them all. He knew the stories and the psalms as easy as he knew his way here.”

“So what’d you say?”

“I told him to listen to his heart, because his had always been good. Angry and hurt, yes, but also good.”

“I’ve never felt this alone.” You spoke, a distance in your voice as you stared at the wood door in front of you. “I’ve been left before, by others and by my own choice. I’ve sabotaged my life to a point where I had to be alone and I’ve sacrificed my lifestyle to protect people around… I don’t want to feel this again.”

“Feeling these kinds of things is what makes us human.”

“Yeah..” You nodded, finding the familiar mental ledge that could take it all away. That could turn it all off so it didn’t matter, that would let Y/N rest. All you had to do… Was give her… A little push. “Maybe that humanity is the issue.”

“Guilt is a good thing.. It’s a soul’s call to action, the innate feeling that something is wrong. The only way to rid yourself of it is to correct your mistakes.”

“Correct my mistakes…” You repeated slowly. “I can’t correct this one… Not the way I’d need to. But I know how to get rid of these feelings.”

“Y/N?” He asked quickly and the concern was palpable in his voice.

“Thanks, Father… It’s been nice catching up.”

And with that, you left the church. You took a deep breathe when you stepped out, the crisp New York air hitting you as soon as you stepped out. There was something freeing in that breath. The heat still blazed with every beat of your stoned heart, leaving a trail of warmth through your veins. The hole still lived in your soul but now you fed it, all the sorrow and despair and loneliness was shoved into the hole. It didn’t fill it by any means, but it satisfied it enough that it wouldn’t swallow you whole. It allowed you to live, and for now that was enough.

The rest of your day was relatively uneventful. You went home for a while and did some reorganzing. You cleaned up some of Matt’s leftover belongings that you were unable to touch before. You even started a pile of things that you figured you should donate. Someone else in the Kitchen could probably use some of those suits.

You took down some photos and put them in the closet with his chest. You even took down that painting from the art gallery you bought. It was the red one Vanessa had showed you. You bought it because you had liked it. It made you think of the Man in the Mask and how turbulent your relationship was but now that he was gone, it was just another token of a dead life. So you shoved it away as well.

You cleaned some of the things you had been neglecting and began to feel like you were actually getting some sort of normalcy back. It wasn’t the normalcy that Matt would’ve wanted for you. You could recognize that, but you never expected to have that anyway. You never had the normalcy he wanted for you when he wasn’t around, so you felt no requirement to find it now that he was gone. And maybe you owed it to his memory to live a real life, live a life of peace, but that was never part of you.

It was later that night when you realized what day it was.

Curtis’ support group for veterans.

You were always welcomed there, ever since you started with Anvil. He never made you talk but the option was always there. And you did, occasionally, if only to shut down one of the other guys. There was a certain respect from Curtis that you didn’t find in other people. He knew you were from an ‘elite covert kill squad’ since childhood but he didn’t ask other questions. He didn’t need to know everything to know that you were lost. It was refreshing and you liked to stay after official sessions to talk about whatever you were thinking or feeling.

But glancing at the time, it was too late for that. So you shrugged it off and decided you’d go next time. At least to say hello to an old friend, the least judgemental one you had left. Instead, you decided you’d go to the bookstore and add to your to-be-read collection while continuing to ignore texts from everyone that knew you.

It wasn’t long until alleged vigilantism found it’s way to you. That next morning, stories of an assault at a construction zone hit your ears. Bodies found under fresh concrete with more blunt force injuries than they should’ve had. Then, estimated to be a few hours later, a hit against a prominent crime family.

It had a familiarity to it that you couldn’t quite place, but it gave you an odd sense of comfort. There was the haunt of concern in your bones, as if you worried that there was something left unanswered within you, but Matt took that part with him. When he died, so did that part of you that wanted to do something good. That wanted to help the neighborhood you loved. You liked the fact that someone else was handling it for you, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t vaguely set off an old itch that liked to be scratched. An old manic, sadistic, worrisome itch that could easily spiral to a full blown bloodbath.

So instead, you carried on with your day. You went to the grocery store to refill your fridge and your pantry. You bought some new clothes, more fitting for an FBI agent, and got some plastic totes to put away some of Matt’s things. The things you didn’t want to look at but couldn’t quite bring yourself to get rid of.

While you were out, you decided to stop by an old warehouse. You weren’t even sure if he would be there, but it was the only starting point you had. You knocked lightly on the door before heading inside, watching the corners and dark shadows carefully.

“Melvin.” You called out when you saw the vague shape of a man sweeping in the corner. “I just wanna talk.”

“Whoever you are, I don’t talk.” He said sharply, coming into full view with a wrench gripped tightly in his hands. “Just go on back the way you came and this never happened.”

“We had a mutual friend.” You said simply, lifting your head a little. “Our Man in the Mask.”

“Shit.” He breathed, slowly dropping the wrench. “I uh, heard he’s gone… That true?”

“Yeah. Your suit protected him from a lot but couldn’t withstand a falling building.”

“Shit.” He said again.

“Mmm.” You agreed. “I came to ask you for something. A vest. Clean lines, simple build. Something I can wear daily, under my normal clothes.”

“Guess that makes you Exodus, huh?” He broke into a small smile that didn’t last. “Sorry but I don’t do that anymore.”

“Yeah, I figured… Neither do I, not really. Ever since Red went down, I…” You took a deep breath. “I got a good job lined up, just need a little something.”

He sighed heavily and turned to the ceiling before facing you again.

“I’ll do you a favor, just this once cause your friend always kept his word. But don’t expect anything else.” He said firmly, pointing a finger at you.

“One and done.” You nodded.

“Alright.. Ah jeez, okay. Your measurements the same? Red and black still?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” You looked at your arms and chest. “And uh, no. No red.”

“C’mon.” He guffawed. “You and Daredevil were partners. You don’t want anything to remember him?”

“Just do whatever.” You shrugged. “How much?”

“It’s on me. I never charged your buddy so… Just gimme a day or two. I’ll get you something nice.”

“I appreciate it.” You offered a smile, though you didn’t quite mean it. “Thanks, Melvin.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved you off. “Don’t ask me for nothing. Alright? I mean it.”

“I get it.” You insisted as you backed towards the door. “Looking forward to it.”

Later that day, not long after you had unloaded all of your groceries, a hard knock sounded at your door. You ignored it, assuming it was just your friends coming to see if you were home yet. Either that, some kids screwing around, or it was just someone from your past coming to kill you. Who exactly was out to get you at that point, you weren’t sure, but there were enough skeletons in your closet that hadn’t fallen out yet. So you went about your business until the door flew open and someone rushed in.

Calmly, you grabbed the gun you tucked between the fridge and wall and turned to face whoever was in your apartment. You gripped it comfortably and cleared your throat, seeing them turn with a sharp gasp. Your brows raised expectantly and Karen’s hands shot up instantly.

“God, Y/N, you scared me.” She breathed before covering a hand to her chest. “How long have you been back?”

“How often do you come into my apartment?” You asked instead, lowering the gun but not putting it down.

“I just-” She tried to explain but her eyes kept falling to the gun. “Can you put that down, please?”

“Don’t trust me anymore?” You raised your brows before tucking the gun into the back of your waistband. “Answer my question.”

“Has he reached out to you?” She asked instead.

“I’m not playing games, Karen. If you have something to tell me, then spit it out and get out of my apartment. If you only came here to fuck around…”

“Frank.” She said quickly. “Frank’s back.”

“Explains the news.” You tilted your head in acknowledgement. “What’d he come to you for?”

“Something about some Micro, a guy that came after him recently. Knows who he is, that he’s alive.”

“Micro… This guy have a real name?”

“David Lieberman, NSA analyst that is officially shot dead by Homeland Security a year ago.”

“Only he’s not.” You nodded. “Okay. Where’s Frank now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is he going after Lieberman?” You closed your eyes and rubbed your forehead, weighing the pros and cons of you getting involved.

“Probably… But Frank said he’s a- He’s a spook. How would he find him?”

“Well, he wouldn’t go for him directly, but someone that knows him or is relevant to him just might work to draw him out. What other names did you work out?”

“Carson Wolf got the whole story cut, could be something there.”

“Probably.. Name sounds familiar.” You felt the scales tilting back and forth in your brain. “Why did you come and tell me about this?”

“Because I-” She hesitated, as if she had just noticed your reaction. “He doesn’t really seem like he wants me involved.”

“So you want me to go run into a fight I know nothing about?” You dropped your hand against your leg with a smack and opened your eyes. “Don’t you think if Frank wanted my help, he would’ve came to me himself?”

“Maybe he didn’t know where to find you.” She offered, clearly searching for anything to convince you.

“Or maybe he didn’t care enough to find me.” You countered with a shrug. But seeing the desperation in her eyes, feeling the plead in her bones, you sighed heavily. “I’ll think about it… I’ll look into Lieberman, maybe there’s a wife or siblings or something. And this Wolf guy, I think I heard his name around Quantico so I guess I can pull some strings in that direction.”

“Thank you.” She let out a sharp exhale, as if she had been holding her breath for your response. “Have you told Foggy you’re back?”

“No.” You turned away to busy yourself in your kitchen. “Haven’t told anyone.”

“I’m sure he’d love to see you.” She tried gently. You noticed the hesitation in her words and realized she was walking on eggshells, completely unsure of how stable you were. “Or at least hear from you.”

“The last conversation we had was an argument.” You admitted, though your voice lacked the remorse it should’ve had and it was too late to add it in now. “And he flinched away from me… He told me that if I wanted to get myself killed, I was more than welcome to as long as I didn’t try to blame anyone other than myself for it.”

Her mouth opened and closed in silence, like she was chomping at the air while she tried to find a response. Finally, her voice found her and it was the same response you expected.

“He had to have still been in shock.”

“He had more than enough time to get over it.”

“I know he wouldn’t say that to you and mean it.” She reasoned.

“Yeah, just like Matt never would’ve said half of what he said to me during the Castle trial, right?” Your brows raised in accusation and you saw her expression drop. “Yeah, sometimes pain or shock bring out what people really mean.”

“Y/N-”

“Doesn’t matter.” You cut in firmly. “Next time you see Frank, ask him if he wants my help. In the meantime, I’ll poke around and start building some intel.”

“Thanks.” She forced a tight smile. “And I’ll talk to Foggy, if you want me to.”

You simply shrugged.

“He’s one of your best friends, isn’t he?” She asked gently, scared for what your answer would be.

“Most of the people I’ve called friends have grown to hate me for one reason or another… I guess I always knew I’d add Foggy to that list one of these days.” You answered flatly.

“C’mon, Y/N.” She tried again.

“Better that than dead… You can go now.”

With a small gesture of defeat, she left. And you wondered if you were going to regret getting involved.

Some quick research into Lieberman showed he did leave a family behind, a wife and two kids. You had no intentions of hurting them but should there be a need, you had blackmail material. He was allegedly shot dead by Homeland after resisting arrest. There was nothing about why he was wanted by Homeland, nor was there anything about his career. But he was NSA, so there should’ve been something other than a passing mention.

That all just meant someone wanted it to go away, and that someone was likely this Carson Wolf character.

You thought about going over to the address you could find for Sarah Lieberman but you assumed Frank would’ve been there already. And two unfamiliar visitors in one day would’ve triggered some sort of concern in the wife, who you had to assume was helping hide her undead husband until you knew otherwise. Instead, you wrote down the address and looked into Carson Wolf. You found that he was one of the higher ups at Homeland Security. It was an interesting connection that you’d have to poke at later.

With a little digging, you also found some information on the construction site incident. There was a feature on the company’s webpage about a new employee, which was asterisked as inactive the day after the bodies were found. There was no picture on the page but you could only assume that Pete Castiglione was the one and only, Frank Castle.

You decided to get out of the house and headed out to get something to drink. You passed by Josie’s and thought about going in. But when you reached the door, you were hit with one of many memories of you and Matt in that place so you had to pass. You passed other bars as you wandered and none really seemed inviting. Eventually, your feet grew tired of aimlessly moving so you settled on a bar you had been to with Billy a few times. Low and behold, Billy was already there.

You felt his eyes following you as you passed by, taking a seat at the bar a few seats down. You ordered your drink and when it came out, you spun the liquid around the glass, listening vaguely to Billy talking about his service and Frank.

The woman kept asking questions pertaining to Frank and their conversation held your interest. Without making it obvious, you noted what she was asking.

Did he get dirty? Could he have been involved in drugs over there?

But why ask questions about a dead man? Who was she?

The gears in your brain were turning when you heard Billy’s question.

“So you’re single?” He asked, clear flirting in his tone. Your head cocked slightly and your brow raised, noticing he was already looking at you for a reaction. He laughed and tilted his bottle towards you but you simply smiled and shook your head.

He went back to his flirting and you rolled your eyes slightly at his next remark. But you did hear a name.

Special Agent Madani.

You could tell she was either going to be one hell of an obstacle or one hell of an ally.

You watched her leave and then decided to slide into her seat.

“Billy Russo, always the player.” You teased with a sly smile and he grinned. “How’ve you been? Lonely?”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” He said happily. “And here I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Well, Quantico was fun but I got bored.” You shrugged playfully. “Knew everything they wanted to teach me.”

“Yeah, I bet you did..” He nodded, never dropping that sly smile. “Bet you made one hell of an impression too.”

“Don’t I always?”

“Yes, you do… Y’know, I missed you.”

“You did not.” You scoffed lightly, gesturing to the bartender for a second drink. “Judging by your latest visitor.”

“Ah, I see what this is.” He chuckled. “You’re jealous.”

“In your dreams, Russo.” You rolled your eyes with an amused smile. “Who was that anyways? She was asking a lot of questions…”

“Dinah Madani.” He answered simply. “Homeland agent that brought a team through Anvil earlier.”

“Homeland, huh?” You turned towards the door even though she was long gone. “Interesting…”

“Why?”

When you didn’t answer, he reached for your chin and turned your face towards him.

“What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?” His eyes darted between yours as he tried to figure you out, but you knew he never would. Not in any way that would mean anything.

“Just curious why a Homeland agent is asking about a dead man is all…” You shrugged. “And it’s a pattern.”

“Oh, it’s a pattern.” He said with a nod, acting as if it explained everything. “What does the pattern tell you?”

“That you like women in power.” You answered plainly. “Me, now in the FBI and everything else I’ve done. Madani, in Homeland with what I would assume is solid standing. Next thing you know, you’re gonna bed a senator.”

“I’ll still come back to my best girl.” He smiled, tapping under your chin with a click of his tongue.

“Yeah, like there was any competition.” You chuckled.

“When’d you get back?” He nodded towards you, decidingly dropping your previous conversation topic.

“Week ago. I thought about coming by, decided not to.” A slight shrug of your shoulder.

“Why not?” He almost sounded hurt.

“Just tired. Needed sound time to settle in.”

“Yeah?” He leaned in slightly and raised his brows. “How about we spend some quality time tonight then, hmm? You got any other plans?”

“Hmm.” The corner of your mouth lifted to a small smile. “I’ll have to check my schedule, Mr. Russo.”

He clicked his tongue and leaned back, wagging his finger at you with an amused smirk of his own. “I missed hearing you say that, pretty lady.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You nodded and sipped your drink.

You spent a little while longer drinking with Billy, catching up and teasing each other playfully. It was almost enough for you to forget what you had been asked earlier that night, to involve yourself in Frank’s latest crusade that he likely expected to cover on his own. Finding Frank would’ve been easy enough if you had a general direction to go in, but where could be? Would he be going after Micro or would he be taunting Micro to go after him again?

If this guy was as much a spook as Karen’s been led to believe, it wouldn’t be easy to draw him out. But knowing Frank, he would find a way to pull him out of his hidey-hole. Which meant you could follow your own leads tonight and potentially meet him, or you could worry about it tomorrow and waste a night with an old fling.

Billy was tempting… And Frank would be fine for one more night, wherever he was.

[rustys-lodge]

Hey peeps ! Im wriring two interactive stories. One about a hunt with the winchester brothers.

Second one not sure yet lol

Tv shows i can write about :

- Peaky blinders

- Supernatural

- From

- Sherlock

- Punisher

- The last of us

And others i forgot ahahahah.

Anyways, interactive story or not, requests are open.

See yaa 🖤🖤🖤⚘️⚘️⚘️

[faithlove21]

Happy belated birthday to meee♐️❤️❤️❤️(it was on the 21st, turned 21 on the 21st I know right) I can’t believe I’m 21 honestly😭 I was hoping that I would finish my Frank Castle fic just in time for my birthday but finals are kicking my ass LMFAOOOOO😭😭 but I’m hoping that I’ll be able to finish up the fic soon I’m so excited!!💓

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Strawberry Surprise ||

Pairing: Matt Murdock / Frank Castle / f!Reader

Rating: E

Tags/warnings: Frank treating reader a lil bit bratty, Matt ain't much better tbh, Semi-public smut, fingering, teasing, the fucking title lol.

If you liked it, please reblog! 😁

The warm summer breeze gently ruffled Frank's hair, carrying all of the sweet smells of flowers and grass with it. He took a deep breath, stretching out on the blanket, eyes still closed as he relished the warmth of the sun on his chest before he opening them to the canvas of bright blue sky behind the green of the softly swaying leaves of the tree above. He hadn't felt this much peace in so long. The twitter of birdsong met his ears, along with the sound of your quiet but unmistakable giggly laughter from nearby. He closed his eyes again even though Red would know he was awake, content just listening to the daft conversation the two of you were having.

"You know how eating things with strong flavours can affect the way you smell and everything, that must be like, twentyfold for you right?" You asked Matt, taking a bite from the strawberry he held up to your lips.

"Mmm." He nodded, pushing the remainder of the juicy flesh further into your mouth and you laughed, struggling to stop the juice from dripping down your chin. "Ahah. So that's why you're feeding me strawberries, to make me smell good? Oh shit, Matty help me it's gonna drip on my dress!"

Matt quickly leaned forward, licking up from your chin and catching your lips in a deliciously deep kiss.

"Hmm no, it's just because I know you like strawberries." He clarified as he sat back. "Anyway, to answer your question, it's more about the taste..." He licked his lips and grinned, bringing another fruit up to your mouth. You giggled as the penny dropped and bit down hungrily.

Frank turned his head finally opening his eyes, smirking as he watched as Red's other hand gradually slid up your bare thigh and disappeared under your bright yellow sundress and how you certainly didn't seem too mad about it, smiling and softly laughing in his lap as he tickled you with kisses all over your neck and collarbones.

"Oh I see how it is." He sounded gruff, but there was only faux annoyance in his tone.

"Frank!" You said in surprise, smiling back at him looking like sunshine in human form. "Hey there sleepyhead."

"Startin' all the fun without me huh?" Frank said, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

Matt had on the most unconvincing innocent expression Frank had ever seen. "Well, you just looked so peaceful, and like you needed the sleep."

"I started it." You leaned over, pecking him on the cheek. "But you can finish it, if you like." You offered, giving him a cheeky wink.

"Oh is that right?" He replied, and you squealed as he wrapped his huge arms around you pulling you onto him, then rolling you both over so you were pinned underneath his massive frame. You grinned, panting with surprise. "Frankie -"

The rest of your words were muffled as his mouth was on yours in an instant and you gave over to the slow, tender kisses he was instigating, melting at the contrast to his usual rough-around-the-edges approach with you. He hummed as his hands roamed over your body exploring every dip and curve that the thin fabric of your dress covered. When he finally pulled away your chest was rising and falling rapidly with shallow breaths. He threaded the fingers of one hand through your hair and leaned back in to kiss the column of your throat. You tilted your head back exposing more of it for him, closing your eyes and letting out a satisfied moan as his soft lips worked their way across every sensitive bare inch of skin down to the top of your breasts.

It was always like this when both of them were with you, always a show. You were the battleground of just how much affection either one of them could provide over the other. Not that you were complaining...

"Mm, you taste so damn good no matter what he's feedin' you sweetheart." Frank remarked, dropping a light kiss on your forehead.

You smiled. "You would say that, Frank." He could be such a softie sometimes that you forgot just how coarse he could be.

"I mean it, and as nice as it is out here I can't wait to get you home and get that sweet lil pussy on my mouth."

Oh, there he was.

Heat flooded over your chest and up to your face as soon as the words left his lips. It never seemed to take much for the two of them to strike up the desire in you and have you hot, bothered, and throbbing with want. You squeezed your legs together and stared up at him through your lashes, waiting for him to pounce again.

"Anyway," he said, sitting up and reaching for the coolbag instead. "There any snacks left for me or did you guys eat em all while I was out?"

"Hey!" You huffed and pushed yourself up, feeling like you'd been left high and dry.

"What?" Frank asked, that dopey grin that drove you crazy stuck on his mouth.

"You gonna leave a girl hanging just like that?" You tugged on Matt's shirt. "Maatt! Frank's being mean and a tease!"

Frank snorted with laughter and Matt couldn't help but chuckle too. "Oh sweetie you know that's not him being mean. Don't you remember a couple of weeks back?"

Frank scoffed. "Must've fucked ya so hard it fell out your brain babygirl."

Matt grinned shaking his head for the millionth time at Frank's brusqueness. His hand stroked down your cheek and he brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. "Kitten, I seem to remember you wanting to be edged, over and over..."

It all came back to you. The torturous tag team of those two had riled you up so bad you were almost crying from needing to get off. And it went on, and on, and on...

"Oh. Yeah." You shyly admitted.

"'I can take it'" Matt mocked your own words back at you, taking a sip of beer. "God, I love seeing you get all flustered and worked up like that though."

You fiddled with your hands in your lap, annoyed that they were right. "Urgh, okay. Fine. Play with me when we get home then?"

Frank stroked your bare leg making you shiver as his fingertips tickled the inside of your knee. "Aw, I think we can give her a lil something to get by until later... What d'ya reckon Red? She's been good."

"Hey, I'm always good! And this picnic was my idea remember." You protested, shoving a strawberry into Frank's mouth.

"Fra-ank," Matt almost sing-songed, "I may be blind but I'm pretty confident most of the other people in this park have functioning vision..."

Frank sat back, smirking at Matt. "Thought that was all part of the fun, Red." He pulled you up off the blanket and onto his lap, licking his lips and scanning the area around you. "'and don't be actin' like this wasn't what you were gonna do anyway. 'Sides, there's all this beautiful nature and trees and shit around, ain't nobody looking our way, are they sweetheart?" He cocked his head at you, dark eyes locked on yours and his hand raising goosebumps on the skin of your legs as he slid it up under the hem of your dress and stroked at your panties.

"Oh..."

You flushed with heat as he brushed his knuckles right up along the line of your pussy lips, bumping them against your clit and it took so much control not to gasp loudly. His other hand grasped at your waist, holding you firm and still as he brought his fingers back up to your mouth.

"Suck." He commanded, and you did, opening up obediently taking his thick calloused fingers deep and wetting them with your saliva.

"There's a good girl." He kissed your forehead so sweetly then thrust his hand back under the dress and down the front of your underwear. He wasted no time, the slick pads of his fingers rubbing tight circles over your clit making you grasp at his shoulders to steady yourself as you shake from the urgency of it all. You felt Matt shuffle up behind you, his knees touching Frank's as they bracketed you between them.

"Well, if we're doing this now..." He growled, and you felt his warm hands slide up the sides of your thighs and squeeze your ass. "I'm not gonna miss out."

You bit down on your lower lip as Matt's hand snuck around your waist to your front and pushed up into your right breast only for Frank to dip his head down and suck at the plump flesh raising a hot mark on your skin and making you yelp.

"Shusssh angel, nice and quiet now." Frank soothed, pulling the front of your dress down so your tits spilled out. Matt reached around you with his free hand grabbing Frank's wrist.

"Switch." He ordered, guiding Frank's fingers to push inside you and replacing them with his own on your clit, earning him a moan which you try unsuccessfully to muffle against Frank's shoulder. Matt tipped you back so you were leaning against him, and his soft, plump lips began kissing that spot right below your ear, the one that seemed to connect right to your core and had your cunt clenching around Frank's fingers as he fucked you with them.

"Ah yeah she likes that Red," He gave a soft chuckle before dipping down and sucking your nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing lightly over it making you dizzy with the sensation. "Don't you babygirl, feels good huh?"

"F-fuck-" you managed to croak out, your senses completely consumed by the incessant teasing touches of the two men. Matt's fingers sped up just a fraction. You could feel the hard outline of his erection against your backside and wished you were anywhere but in a public park so he could just bend you over, yank your soaked knickers down and fuck you stupid while you choked on Frank's cock. Your hands grasped in front of you for Frank's belt buckle but he gently pushed you away. You reluctantly settle for rubbing and squeezing his cock through his jeans, and the near primal groan he makes stokes the fire growing at the base of your spine even hotter.

"You'll have to wait for that, think you can hold on sweet girl?" You're so wet that his fingers are sliding in and out of you with such ease, your eyes flutter shut and all you can think about is how quickly you're gonna come, what if somebody sees...

"You hear that Red, how fucking turned on she is?"

Matt's fingers are focused and relentless and you feel the built up tension in you about to snap. His voice is low and gravelly, vibrating right through your bones, and you know you're never going to last when the devil is whispering pure filth in your ear. "You like the little thrill of getting caught princess?"

You whine and you can see his grin reflected in Frank's expression.

"Oh you do, I'll have to fuck you in public next time. You'd love that wouldn't you sweetie. Tryin' to keep quiet at a party when I can just lift up your skirt and slide right in..."

"Oh god oh god, hngh-"

Frank's mouth swallowed your moans as Matt's honeyed tongue tipped you over your edge. Your heart raced as pleasure burst right through you making your vision white out.

They both slowed their movements as you shuddered and almost collapsed in a heap. Matt quickly covered you back up making you decent and kissing you sweetly as Frank chuckled, sucking his fingers into his mouth with a satisfied moan.

"Well wha'dya know Red, just like strawberries."

Tags: @saintmurd0ck

[isawjamfirst]

what if i visualize the ending for Come and See huh what then