#frank castle x gender neutral reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alexiswritingstuff · 10 months

Text

Saved by the unexpected.

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

Other appearances: Micro, aka David Lieberman.

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

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

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

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

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

Either way, I hope you enjoy reading!

It was supposed a morning like any other. Started with a bright sky and chirping birds before slowly melding into the warm afternoon.

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

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

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

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

So, the decision to choose it was simple.

You took of down the pathway, that was slowly becoming overgrown, between two very large buildings which almost looked as if they could reach the sky from your angle.

This part was more commonly known as the run down area.

The complexes on either side of you were empty. Most had the windows boarded up, due to the lack of ability to get them repaired, and the walls themselves were stained from a plethora of things, parts even looking like they were about to crack and crumble.

It was a lot harder to get funding for these buildings as the further you walked down the path, the further you got a way from the main street. For the occasional tourist, or people who had a stuffed schedule, they wouldn’t know what was down here. Which usually meant that they wouldn’t even try to find out.

And soon, it took its toll. Most, if not all, had been abandoned unless someone was able to turn something into an apartment of some kind.

You moved under the overhang section created by a walkway that connected the two opposing buildings, and honestly it sort of felt like a tunnel due to its width. But eventually, you arrived back in the open and by god the area was massive.

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

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

But now, it was always empty.

… Or it was supposed to be.

In the furthest corner of the parking lot was this very specific looking handful of cars. A sight that should have been acknowledge as the first sign. Your first warning.

It was too late.

All of a sudden, there was this echo that felt like it drilled through your ear. It was violent through the air, one that rung for almost a full minute through the complex to your right.

It wasn’t something you really questioned off the bat. I mean, the building was old. It could’ve been a loose panel finally deciding to break free from the ceiling, or a cracked wall weighing in on itself. Or even someone trying to fix up the building?

And all of those assumptions weren’t exactly bad... They were just the wrong ones.

Something you realised the moment the sound appeared once again.

Whatever it was reverberated from the broken windows in a way that properly allowed the ability to hear in its entirety. It was closer this time, more full. “What the...”

It was a series of bassy pops, collectively almost imitating the blast of fireworks, but within the sounds was this sort of clinking like something had fallen to the floor.

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

“Oh, shit.”

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

There was chorus of yelling, even more shots, and heavy boots that practically skid against the concrete as they moved. It was as if you just stumbled upon a damn army.

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

Your heart was hammering, chest heaving, as you continuously looked up and down the path you sat on. It was the only thing you could see. Everything was happening on the other side of the wall, so pretty much all you could do was just sit and listen for people that might decide to come your way.

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

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

It sounded like they were coming from everywhere.

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

You reached back, making sure that your bag wasn’t going to hit any surface, and then took it off of yourself one arm at a time.

Soon the bag was placed in front of you, your fingers immediately unzipping it, before you began to search through. You wanted some kind of weapon, or if not that then at least some form of protection... But you had just gone shopping.

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

You moved onto the pockets on either side of the bag when the main compartment made too much noise. It wasn’t like it was going to do any justice anyway because it was all just a bunch of food, a carton of juice and other little things for your trailer.

This wasn’t a planned situation.

When you woke up this morning and picked up your bag to go grocery shopping, you weren’t exactly imagining that you would need to bring something to fight with.

A huff of air passed through your lips while your fingers began searching through the left pocket. You felt around, following the lining of stitches for at least something, but the most found was a wrapper from some sweet or chewing gum.

So, it was on to the next.

This time to do the same routine was a bit more difficult as this pocket was where you kept your water bottle. You were trying to be more careful when you started to comb through the compartment, even if you had to move a bit faster to properly squeeze around the lack of space.

And then, finally, you felt something.

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

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

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

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

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

It started to tip out of the pocket.

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

And that apparently wasn’t all.

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

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

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

Eventually, about halfway through the path, it ran into a rock or a crack in the ground. The bottle bounced about one more time before it finally stalled. Though, at this point I don’t think it really mattered. The damage was still done.

The shots had placated a bit, the only ones being fired sounding far away, as the confusion dispersed the men on the other side of the wall. Murmurs were passing back and forth.

“What was that?

“Did you hear that?

“Where did that come from?”

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

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

“Yes, sir!”

“Okay, sir!”

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

But a pair of footsteps still remained.

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

Especially when they started getting louder.

Your eyes flicked to the open backpack in front of you, an ache beginning to pulse through your forehead while you stared at the contents. There was this sort of desperation, and almost disappointment, that built in your system at the thought of losing the freshly bought items.

Though, what was the point in trying to save the food if you wouldn’t be alive to eat it.

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

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

There was this internal count down as you moved your other leg to stretch behind you, even if there wasn’t that much space to do so.

And then the timer went off.

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

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

The movement was caught from the corner of your eye.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your breathing was erratic, arms moving stiff and slow as you raised them above your head with your palms open, facing the man who made no implications that he was going to put that gun down. “Listen,” You gulped, “I didn’t see anything, I swear-- Look, there. My bag is there-- Take it. Take anything.”

“Anything you want.”

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

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

And then a shot rung out.

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

You could still move?

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

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

Your head sort of bobbed for a moment, the want to continue your search fierce in your veins, but then you finally looked away. Your gaze rose.

The man before you had tumbled to his knees.

His hands moved around for a few seconds, desperately trying to grab apart of his chest as if in disbelief of what just happened. And then another shot fired again.

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

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

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

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

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

He got you.

“Oh, shit.”

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

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

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

They weren’t from the same group.

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

And then he stilled.

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

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

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

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

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

Your skin felt hot all over your body, but it also felt cold at the same time.

You were trying to move, wanting nothing more than to get back up, go home, curl up in bed and forget this ever happened. But the ability to budge any limb had faded from your brain until you couldn’t even feel if your arms were lifted in the air or not.

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

Right before you gave into that nagging want to sleep, something blocked whatever view you had left, “Kid? Hey, kid, are you... Oh, no-- Kid, can you hear me?” You could feel hands on your arms, and soon, one had pressed onto the wound in a way that had a sound gurgling out of your mouth.

“Kid!”

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The place was massive.

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

“Hey.”

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

Some you hadn’t even seen before.

“Hey, uh, kid?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You almost jumped out of your skin.

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

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

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

And then you looked at him.

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

“I’ll bet your hungry, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, kid.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it was there. Zipped up and everything.

Your favourite backpack.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How could he even notice it that quick?

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

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

“That’s all.”

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

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

“Can you speak?”

Your body stiffened within a matter of seconds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

This guys wasn’t strange.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then that name cycled through your head once more.

Frank... Castle.

Frank Castle.

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

Holy shit.

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

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

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

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

Frank Castle was alive.

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

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

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

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

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

Who were those other guys?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deep breath.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was like a ripping of a band aid.

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

“Right on, that’s you done.”

And so had yours.

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

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

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

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

The plate was in your hands within seconds.

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

You were.

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

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

You looked back at David.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He didn’t say no.

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

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

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

It started to rip.

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

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

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

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

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

And this time he couldn’t withhold a response.

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

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

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

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

“Damn!”

Seemed like someone else agreed with you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that a yes or a no?”

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

And then it made you think.

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

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

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

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

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

Thus, you swallowed once again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n likes it.”

#frank castle #the punisher #teen!reader #mcu #mcu x teen!reader #marvel x teen!reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle x gender neutral reader #david lieberman #micro

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martyrmurdock · 2 years

Text

frank “mattress boyfriend” castle

♡ note: mayhaps i will write a drabble about matt “weighted blanket bf” murdock

♡ pairing: frank castle x gn reader

♡ word count: .6k

♡ tags: fluff, frank calls reader “sweetheart”

“You’re s’comfy,” you slur, words steeped in sleepiness as you rub your cheek against Frank’s bare chest, not dissimilar to a cat. “Warm too.”

A gravelly sound forms in Frank’s throat, gently rumbling through you. The corner of his lips quirks up into a small smile, terribly soft around the edges, when you lift your head and glare at him. It’s hard to find you intimidating or to take you very seriously when your glare melts into a more pouty expression.

“Are you laughing at me?”

Your brows draw together, a crease forming between them as your pout deepens, your lower lip jutting out even further.

A low, throaty chuckle bursts free from Frank’s lips, finding too much amusement in the situation. His chest vibrates before his laughter tapers off, leaving behind a smile on his face that’s overflowing with fondness, incredibly uncharacteristic of the man known as the big bad Punisher. That is, unless he’s with you.

Frank lifts a hand off your back and gently smoothens out the crease between your brows with his thumb before leaning forward slightly and pressing a kiss to that small space. His hand trails down the side of your face, caressing your cheek briefly- his fingertips dancing across your skin in the sweetest waltz- before he affectionately rubs your earlobe between his thumb and forefinger. Your previous ire is quickly forgotten as you melt like snow in the light of the morning sun under his ministrations, making a noise in the back of your throat that sounds awfully like a purr.

“Yeah,” Frank admits, unwilling to lie to you. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t sound terribly apologetic (not at all actually), but you don’t mind too much. You were never really mad in the first place, not truly, so forgiving Frank comes to you easily.

“Mm,” you hum, pretending to contemplate whether or not Frank is deserving of your forgiveness. Your head lolls to the side, further into Frank’s touch as a soft sleepy grin spreads across your cheeks, a clue as to what your answer is. “I suppose-” A long yawn interrupts you in the midst of speaking, making your eyes flutter shut. Your eyes are half-lidded when you crack them open again after you’re done yawning. You slowly blink at Frank, affection so painfully apparent in your gaze. It swims in the depths of your hues, swirling in a way that Frank finds damn near hypnotizing. “I s’ppose I accept your apology.”

His hand slides to cup the side of your face, thumb sweeping over the swell of your cheek. His touch is feather-soft. His movements are careful and calculated, everything done with precise intention. Frank doesn’t touch you in a way that suggests you’re fragile like he’s afraid you may shatter in his grasp, but in a way that implies that you’re something to be adored, admired like a great work of art should be.

“How kind of you,” he drawls, low and quiet. His eyes, dark as midnight itself, trace over your facial features as he rubs his thumb back and forth, following the curve of your cheekbone. “You should go to sleep, sweetheart,” he soon says afterward, obviously taking notice of your inability to keep your eyes open for any longer than a few seconds at a time.

“Okay,” you give in with no resistance, feeling the pull of sleep tugging at the corners of your mind. Frank’s hand falls away from your face as you lie your head on his chest once more, making a sound of contentment as you nuzzle into him. “G’night, Frankie,” you sleepily mumble, tenderly brushing your lips against his skin, “I love you.”

The last thing you process before you fade from consciousness and succumb to the sweet siren call of sleep is the soft rumble of “Love you too, sweetheart,” accompanied by a kiss to the top of your head.

#frank castle x reader #the punisher x reader #frank castle x gn reader #the punisher x gn reader #frank castle x gender neutral reader #the punisher x gender neutral reader #frank castle fluff #the punisher fluff #martyr writes #saint.frank castle

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untoldshortsofthefandoms · 1 year

Text

Dull Dates

Request: from an anno from a long time

Prompts: “Can you zip up my dress?”

Word Count: 3785

Warnings: blood, some wounds. lots of sexual tension. bunch of fluff.

Author’s Note: Hello beautiful humans!! I apologize for taking years to come back to writing, but I had a lot going on between college and personal life, but I’m happy to back reading and writing again. I still had my old taglist, I thought it would be best to not tag you, let me know if want to be tagged or added back. Gif is not mine

Dull Dates

God was this date boring, you thought to yourself as you sipped on the glass of wine. Does he ever stop talking about himself? You thought as you nodded your head. You were on a date with the hottest E.R. doctor at Bellevue but god was he dull. You were an E.R. nurse there and you heard how all the other nurses drolled over him, you personally didn’t see it the way they did. Yeah, he was cute but not droll-worthy. Faking a smile and giggle at his joke as you rolled your eyes hoping this so-called date would come to an end soon. Your phone buzzed on the table, you glanced down and saw his name flash across the screen.

Your heartbeat skipped a beat and quickly clearing your throat your gained Robert’s attention. “Excuse me, Robert but I have to go. Emergency.” You stated shaking your phone in your hand.

Robert pulled his phone out, “I didn’t get a call from work though…” his voice trailed off, confused.

“Not a medical emergency Robert…” you paused for a beat, thinking of an excuse “ a family one. I have to go.”

“At least let me take you home.”

“No,” you responded a bit too quickly. “ I’ll be okay. Thank you though.” you recovered, with a smile. You grabbed your jacket, quickly gave Robert a kiss on the cheek, and left the restaurant.

You began the twenty-minute walk back to your apartment when it began to rain. Of course, it would start to rain as you were making your way home. You picked up your pace not because of the rain, but because of what you knew would be waiting at your apartment door when you arrived. A bloody injured Frank Castle. Time always matted when it came to Frank Castle, especially if he was bleeding. You leaned against a lamp post as you slipped off your heels and began to run to your apartment. This was not how you pictured your night going, running barefoot through New York City in the rain was not the first thing you thought of when you got dressed for your date tonight. You took the back allies and side streets to get to your apartment building, that twenty-minute walk was cut down to eleven minutes. You walked up the flights of stairs to get to your apartment, your breathing was hard and heavy. Your lungs and legs felt like they were on fire. But you finally reached your floor, you walked down the hallway to notice the hooded figure leaning against your door. The huffing and puffing of your breathing alerted the figure of your presence. The water was dripping off you onto the floor as you walked over to your apartment door.

The figure shifted to the right to let you open the door, “You know between you and work I don’t have a social life.”

The figure let out a low chuckle that turned into a groan of pain. “What did you do this time Frank?” you asked opening the door and letting you both inside.

Frank waddled into your apartment and across to the dining table, where he hopped up and laid down. You never had anything on that table due to amount of times Frank visited, it turned into a permeant surgical table. You walked in, closing and locking the door behind you. You walked straight into the small bathroom in your apartment to grab your first aid medical bag. You tossed your heels back toward the front door as you made your way over to Frank. You dropped the bag on the breakfast cart you had and tied your wet hair back into a ponytail.

“So what do I get to patch up today, Frank?” you asked trying to get him to talk.

Frank gave you a side grin, “Stab wound and a few bullet holes.”

“Oh so the usual, will you ever stop getting hurt?” you asked as you pulled a pair of gloves out of the bag.

“Only when you stop going out on dates with people who don’t deserve you,” he responded quickly like it bothered him you went on dates.

Your eyes rolled on their own as a smile tugged on your lips and your cheeks began to feel warm. You turned around to face the man laying on your dining table, scissors in hand and gloves on.

A mischievous smirk played on your lips, “You know the deal, Frank.”

“Do you have to cut my shirt off?” he groaned, even though it sounded more like a whine.

“It’s either I cut it off or rip it off.”

“You know I’d love it if you ripped it off, just as long as I get to rip that dress off you later,” Frank said in a husky voice as he gave you a wink.

“You know, if I’d known any better, I’d think you were flirting with me.” You said smiling, as you cut up the center of his black shirt. You carefully and slowly opened his shirt to reveal the stab wound to his lower abdomen and a gunshot wound on his right shoulder. You looked over the rest of his upper half not seeing anything else.

“You know we should get an x-ray for that shoulder, could have bone damage” you stated.

“It didn’t go that far in, you just have to pull the bullet out and you know how I feel about doctors.”

“Yeah I know, and yet here you are getting stitched up by a nurse…” you said raising an eyebrow up at him, as you began to clean up the stab wound. It looked worse than it really was, blood tends to make things look worse than they are. The blood around the wound was cleaned off, then you moved to clean the actual wound. You pressed the cotton pad with alcohol on the wound. Frank’s muscles tensed when the pad touched the wound.

“I’m sorry” you whispered softly, “you know I have to.” You continued to clean it up even more gently than before. His eyes stayed shut as he hissed in pain, “I know” his voice strained out softly.

You hated seeing his face distort in pain, but you had to continue to patch him up. You had finished up with the two little stitches the stab wound needed when you covered it in gauze and tape. Next on the list of patchwork was that bullet hole in his shoulder, you took a deep breath going to the kitchen for a wooden spoon that you knew you’d need.

You went to the other side of the table, and up near his shoulder so you could work. You held out the wooden spoon in front of his face, “Here bite down on this” you spoke.

“I’d much rather bite you,” he said with a smirk. The pain he previously felt was no longer evident on his face.

“Just bite the spoon. I don’t want the neighbors to hear you scream just yet,” you replied with a wink.

Frank raised his eyebrow up and gave you a side grin. He made eye contact with you as he bit down on the handle of the wooden spoon. You give a slight eye roll, grabbing your phone for added light. You held tweezers in one hand and your phone in the other with the flashlight on. You tried looking into the hole first with the light in hopes of noticing a glint of the bullet, but no luck. You had to go in blind. You gently as possible insert the tweezers and carefully begin to move them around in hopes of finding the bullet. You look over at Frank and see the pain written across his features, but he isn’t making much noise. You know he is doing his best to remain still so you can work. You finally feel a bit of resistance and you heard a light clint of metal against metal. “Found it” you whispered gently.

You used the tweezers to grab the bullet and began to slowly pull it back out the same way it went in, trying not to damage any more tissue or muscle. The bullet was out, and both you and Frank let out a breath that you both seemed to have been holding. Frank’s jaw tighten back up knowing what was coming next. You showed the light over the hole one last time, making sure there weren’t any fragments of the bullet left lodged in. The bullet seemed in tack though.

“You ready?” you asked grabbing the alcohol and taking a deep breath.

Clenched jaw, eyes screwed shut Frank nodded his head. You poured some alcohol from the bottle into the hole with a grimace expression as the muffled screams of Frank escaped his lips. You glanced over at him, your eyes full of sympathy for the man in front of you. You hated doing this to him, causing him pain but you had to in order to patch him up. You then began to stitch up the hole. Frank’s breathing went back to normal as he pulled the wooden spoon from his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” you spoke just above a whisper.

“Why you sorry sweetheart?”

“Cause I’m causing you pain,” your voice replied gently, “and not even the fun kind” you added with a smirk.

Frank let out an exhausted chuckle, “On the contrary there sweetheart, I don’t like it too rough. For example, you in that dress you have on…” he pauses. “I wouldn’t rip it off you…” Frank swallows the lump that sat in his throat. “No, no. I’d take my time. I’d kiss up your arm, across your neck then down across your collarbones all while my hands traveled from your hips up your back to that zipper…” he paused again, as he turned to face you. Your cheeks had turned a shade of red, your hands slightly shook as your heartbeat continued to increase and now you felt a pit in your stomach.

Frank watched your reaction carefully, he noticed the shaky hands and uneven breathing pattern. He knew his words had an effect on you, but he decided that he should let you work. “But I’ll let you finish that story,” he said with a side wink.

You cleared your throat trying to gain back your focus to finish up that last stitch. Then you bandaged up his shoulder. You helped Frank sit back up and you looked him in the eye, “Anything else you need?”

“Yeah… you,” he said casually.

“Besides me, any other injuries?” you asked with a smirk.

“Can you check to see if this bullet grazed my leg or not?” he knew it was just a graze but he wanted to spend more time with you.

“Sure but you know that means I cut your pants,” you stated using your fingers to make a cutting motion.

“Can’t you just take them off instead darling?” Frank pleaded, not wanting to have his pants cut up.

“Alright fine, off the table.”

You helped Frank slip off the table carefully to not rip open any of the stitches you just did. You bit your lip at the man standing in front of you, giving your head a quick shake to focus back on the task. Your hands went towards his waistband with a slight shake in them. You fumbled with the belt and button of his jeans, not due to lack of experience, no it was because it was Frank. After successfully unzipping his pants, you slowly pulled them down. Frank watched your every move carefully, it had been a long time since someone undressed him, let alone someone who looked like you. He did his best to keep his thoughts from traveling, trying not to picture you pinned beneath him on the table he was leaning against. He looked up at the ceiling trying to clear his head, as his pants reached his ankles.

You spoke up, trying not to look up at him now that you were on your knees in front of him, “Whereabouts?”

“Outer right thigh area,” he said monotoned.

“I’m gonna have to move your boxers up.”

“I know,” he gulped.

You took the edge of his boxers in your hand, as you gently pulled it away from his thigh and began to push up. You notice a little blood in the curve of his thigh muscle. Upon further inspection, it seemed to just have been a graze from the bullet. You cleaned up the area and added a small bandage.

“There…” you said clearing your throat, “all done. Unless there is anything else that needs my attention.” You got back to your feet, chest to chest with Frank, giving him a smile.

“Nothing sweetheart,” he said making eye contact and then shifting his gaze down to your lips before bringing it back to your eyes.

Frank thought about what it would be like to kiss you, to undress you the way you did him gently. To have his fingertips brush against your soft skin, just like your soft fingers did; to tell you what he was doing just like you. He found it comforting when you told him what you needed to do, making sure he was okay with everything that was happening. He wished to give you that same comfort. You leaned away from him, as you began to clean up the trash.

You made it into the kitchen where you dropped all the trash into the can as you pulled the used gloves off dropping them in too. You washed up as Frank carefully pulled his pants back on. You turned around to face a shirtless Frank, with his pants hanging loosely around his waist. You watched him, he had always caught you off guard. The beautifully sculpted muscles he had made him look like a Greek god. The scruffy beard that hugged his strong jawline. He was your definition of hot. You tried to not stare too long but Frank noticed as he finished pulling his belt through the last loop, he gave you a smile. He walked over to you, you blinked repeatedly then quickly dropped your face to look towards your kitchen floor. His boots came into your vision, as he placed a fingertip under your chin lifting your face to look up at him. His eyes traveled around your face before landing on your lips, he leaned down towards you slowly. His breath felt warm against your face, and you panicked.

You turned your face out of his path, “Can you unzip me?” you asked, trying to act like you didn’t notice how close you two were to kissing.

He cleared his throat, regathering his thoughts, “Sure.”

Frank brushed your ponytail off to one shoulder as he began to unzip your dress painfully slow. His eyes followed the zipper down your back, stopping just above your hips. He brought his hands back up to the base of your neck to undo the clip. He leaned over your right shoulder, as his hands slid down your arms and gently snaked around your waist.

“Done,” he whispered softly into your ear.

Your heart was pounding hard against your breastbone. You turned your face to meet his, your eyes connected. “Thanks…” you whispered softly. You felt his warm breath fan against your lips. Your eyes drifted down towards his soft-looking lips, then back up to his inviting eyes. You felt the want in the pit of your stomach to lean in and kiss him, but you turned out of his grasp. You looked away and started towards your bedroom.

“I’m gonna change and head to bed.” you said trying to keep a steady voice, “You can stay on the couch if you’d like.”

“I think I’ll head out,” Frank replied in a hardened voice as if he was trying to hold himself together.

You stopped in your tracks at the difference in his voice, you turned back to him. You did your best not to let your voice falter, “Okay, if you need anything you know how to find me.”

Frank turned to look at you when he heard the pads of your feet stop. He looked at you for what felt like forever to him. He watched your lips pull into a soft smile. He simply nodded his head, not trusting his voice anymore. He grabbed his jacket from the table and walked out the door. You watched him, hearing the slight slam of your apartment door.

You continued to walk into your bedroom, slowly closing the door behind you. Back pushed up against the door, you did your best to regain control of your unsteady heartbeat and uneven breathing. Your eyes closed, as images of what just happened swiped through like a movie. You and Frank always teased and flirted while you patched him up, that was nothing new. Your reactions to his flirtatious comments and mannerisms were nothing you weren’t used to. It was how close you two were to kissing, that was new, and new was a bit scary but this was Frank, he made things easy. A long exhale brought you back to reality, you slipped your hand through your tied-back hair. You dropped the dress that had once covered your body to the floor. You slipped into the bathroom and took a warm shower after stepping into a freezing one to clear your thoughts. You got changed into something comfortable for bed, before slipping off to sleep.

The week had gone by with no new visits from Frank, no new text messages, no nothing from the man. But unsurprisingly Robert had asked you out again stating he wanted to finish the date you two started the other night. You had accepted his offer, simply to be kind and in the hope to get the thoughts of Frank out of your mind. Also if you spent the night with Robert it meant you didn’t have to spend it alone with your thoughts.

You were getting ready for the evening, soft music playing through your bedroom. You slipped into a curve-hugging black dress that stopped just above your knee. The sheer black top covered the deep v cut in the solid black material, the sheer also covered the exposed back of the dress. You were reaching for the zipper when a loud knock came on your door. You held the front of the dress against your body as you made your way to the door. The metal of the door handle felt cool as you opened it to come face to face with Frank.

Frank’s eyes widened at you in the dress, he felt his hand ball into a fist as he thought of everyone who get to see you in that dress. He let his eyes wander across your figure, and that dress hugged every inch it covered. He felt his heart stop and start as he tried to pull his eyes up to yours. He closed his eyes for a moment before looking into your eyes.

“Hey Frank,” you said timidly, as you felt slightly self-conscious under his stare.

“Hi sweetheart,” Frank said softly.

“Anything wrong soldier?” you asked trying to gain back the normal confidence you have with him.

“Uhh… nothing physically,” he responded, “Can I come in?”

“Sure” you stepped to the side opening the door more, allowing Frank to slip inside.

As he walked by, you caught the smell of gunpowder, gun oil, and something you couldn’t pinpoint but it was all Frank Castle. You closed the door behind him, as he now stood in the middle of your living space.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he said rubbing the back of his neck.

“Not really,” you replied walking past him towards your bedroom, “just getting ready for a date.”

Frank’s eyes followed you to your bedroom, where your voice sang out from. He cleared his throat, “Lucky guy.”

“Yeah, I guess but he is very dull, sadly.”

“Then why go out on a second date?” he questioned as he leaned against your bedroom door frame.

“Cause the first one was interrupted by someone…” you trailed off, glancing over at Frank. He looked really good, leaning against your door frame. Frank was droll-worthy in your personal opinion.

Frank pretended to be shocked, “Who? Me?” he pushed off the door frame walking towards you, “And here I thought I saved you from a dull date.” He said finally towering over you.

You looked up at him with a smile, “You did, but I do owe him a full date to at least try to be less dull than that first one.”

Frank looked down at you, directly into your eyes. “And when do I get my date with you?” he asked softly.

You brought your bottom lip in between your teeth biting down before you felt a wave of shyness rush over you as you looked down towards the ground. You quickly looked back at him with the heat on your cheeks burning your skin, as you looked back into his eyes, “Are you asking me out on a date Frank?”

“Maybe.”

You turned around facing away from him, you gathered your hair to one side, “Can you zip up my dress for me?”

You felt his left hand gently grab your hip as he pulled the zipper up. His warm grip left, leaving your hip cold against the air of your room. His hands found their way to the base of your neck where the clip of the dress was, securing it into place. He let his hands travel across your shoulders, down your arms leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You felt his warm body pressed up against you, as his hot breath brushed next to your right ear. His husky voice spoke softly, almost like music into your ear, “Done.”

He stepped away from you, his warmth leaving with him. You turned to face him again.

“You look beautiful,” he breathed out, “Have fun tonight. I’ll try to stay out of trouble.”

He gave you his signature smirk, which he reserved only for you. He turned and walked out of your bedroom leaving you to finish getting ready for a date with someone who wasn’t him.

“Frank,” you called out to him.

He stopped in his tracks, “Yeah?”

“Thank you, and don’t change your plans tonight for me,” you spoke, “I’m sure I can find a different date some other night,” you flirted.

Frank’s back was still towards you, so you didn’t get to see the smile that graced his lips as he walked out of your apartment.

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Taglist:

@uselsshuman

#frank castle #the punisher #the punisher oneshot #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader #frank castle x gender neutral reader #punisher #marvel #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #jon bernthal

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russosafehaven · 1 year

Text

I’m Here For You

Series Title: I’m Here For You

Chapter Title: Part One - Nightmares In Morning

Song: Family Line - Conan Grey

Pairing: Familial Frank Castle x Teen!Reader

Content: PTSD, Nightmares, Soft!Frank, Teen!Reader, The Three F’s (Father Figure Frank), powered!reader

A series of drabbles with father figure Frank healing alongside a teenage runaway with PTSD. Set around the start of season 2 when they’re at Madani’s apartment

POV: Second

Shooting up out of the bed you had almost hit your head on the frame. Amy was still sound asleep next to you. Reluctantly you had agreed to share the bed with her as she insisted and so had Frank. Despite protests that you could sleep on the floor just fine they both seemed firm in their position.

Carefully crawling out of bed you tiptoed out of the room. Making sure Amy didn’t wake up. You stalked through Madani’s apartment like a cat, light and quick on your feet. It reminds you of your days of stealing to survive. Except now you’re in a place of luxury. Upon reaching the kitchen you grab a glass and fill it with ice cold water. Taking a sip you let it rush down your throat. Feeling it all the way to your chest.

“What are you doing up kid?”

You whip around unintentionally sending a blast of energy at the person. They block it with their arm but it still leaves a nasty mark. Upon realising it was Frank, the man who had found you on the verge of death you hastily apologise.

“No need to be sorry, I shouldnta scared you”

Heavy footsteps made their way to your side and Frank took the glass from your hands. He just have noticed that you’d been shaking uncontrollably.

“What was it this time?”

You looked up at him, tears welling in your eyes as you remembered the horrors. Without having no time to reach Frank pulled you into his arms. Rubbing your back gently in a comforting nature. It surprised you that he was still so gentle and fatherly after what he’s been through.

“It’s okay, cry it out”

Cry you did, leaning into his touch. You’d only known Frank for just over a year. He’d found you just before he left New York. You were on the streets cold and alone. Once you had been separated by your friends you couldn’t survive. It was harder alone than in a group. Frank had seen you and taken pity, so he took you under his wings. You’d travelled through states together and become more like family than you had expected. He had found himself fond of you something he hadn’t expected. Due to the life he lived he didn’t think he would ever get attached to a kid again, yet here you were.

“I miss them so much… I miss all of them, Karolina, Nico, Molly, Gert, Alex and Chase. Fuck it hurts so much… why’d I have to get separated from them? Dad it hurts missing them. Every single night I wake up and I think I’m back with them but I’m not…”

In your emotional state you hadn’t even realised you called him ‘Dad’. Not until you watched as the violent vigilante froze up. Rigid and unmoving, his once comforting firm grip become stiff.

“Frank…? Fuck I’m sorry I didn’t mean to it just slipped out and fuck I’m sorry”

You pulled out of his grasp and ran out of the kitchen. In a haste you looked around for your shoes pulling them on and grabbing your bag. As you made you way to the door Frank had grabbed your shoulder.

“Hey, none of that, you ain’t running away again. Sure it’s been a rough ride for both of us but if you see me as your dad that is the highest fucking honour alright kid? I ain’t got to be a dad since they died and it hurt like hell, but you’ve changed a lot of that”

He pulled you back into his chest, taking your bag and dropping it the floor. Frank walked you over to the couch where he was sleeping and dropped you down on it. As he pulled a blanket over you he joined you, cuddling you like a mama dog and her puppies.

“Just rest kid, you’re safe here. I ain’t leaving you”

#frank castle x gender neutral reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle x y/n #frank castle #frank. castle comfort #frank castle fluff #frank castle comfort #the punisher imagine #the punisher

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randomfanfics02 · 2 years

Text

Frank Castle x reader.

Summary; Frank wants to shave his beard.

Warnings; Suggested themes and pure fluff.

Frank sits at the kitchen table as you place the shaving foam on the kitchen table next to your coffee. Frank smiles at you as you quickly tie you hair up in a loose ponytail, pulling a few pieces of your hair out to frame your face.

“I didn’t think that was what we were doing, baby,” Frank smirks as you roll our eyes playfully.

“It’s not,” You smirk back, gently pushing his back further into the chair as you climb onto his lap. Your legs either side of him, his hands hands sitting on your hips.

“Are you sure?” Frank pulls you further up, you hips brushing against his. You hum, leaning down to press your lips onto his, he smiles against your lips. Frank pulls you closer by your waist and deepens the kiss, his hands sliding down to your ass. He squeezes the flesh softly, making you whine a little in his mouth. You pull away from the kiss then, resting your forehead on his, catching your breath that was lost in the kiss.

“Oh, I am very sure,”

Suddenly, there is shaving foam smothered over his cheeks. You giggle as Frank looks at you shocked.

“When-”

“When I distracted you,” You smirk, rolling your hips against his making him groan, hands tightening around your waist.

“Fair play,”

You press a kiss on his non-shaving foamed jaw, his beard tickling your chin before smoothing the shaving foam over cheeks, jaw and chin. His fingertips run up and down your bare thighs before tracing his fingers under the baggy t-shirt you are wearing.

“Your distracting me,” You mutter, gently running the razor down his cheek.

“What? Am I making you horny or are you ticklish?” Frank asks, with a teasing smile.

You smack his bare chest playfully with a smile. Frank tilts his head up as you run the razor down his jaw. The two of you sit like this; Frank’s hands on your thighs, thumbs running over your soft skin as he watches you carefully run the razor over his face, gently cutting away at his beard.

“Okay,” You place the razor to the side, taking the flannel and soaking it in the bowl of hot water before cleaning away any shaving foam left, “All done.”

Frank shifts, sitting up and pulling you closer to him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders placing your forehead on his, your fingers running through the fine hair at the back of his head.

“Thank you, baby,” Frank mutters, pressing a light kiss on your lips.

You hum, pulling back with a teasing smile, “I know a better way you can thank me.”

You giggle as Frank stands hoisting you up; you legs wrapping around his waist as he grips under your thighs. Quickly walking into the bedroom, your lips connected in a heated kiss, Frank knocking the bedroom door closed with his foot.

#frank castle #Frank Castle x reader #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x gender neutral reader #Frank Castle x you smut #Frank Castle x reader fluff #The Punisher #The Punisher x reader #The Punisher x you

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theecannibalnamedhannibal · 2 years

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Rail me

#frank castle #frank castle angst #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle fic #frank castle fluff #frank castle imagine #frank castle smut #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x male reader #frank castle x gender neutral reader

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yourloverfromthepast · 2 years

Text

Guys, girls and non-binary folks who likes Frank Castle/Jon Bernthal, if you're not a minor, imagine:

You're ✨peacefully✨ having s3x with your man, but that day, for some strange reason you're so- eager for him that you can barely control yourself. You're just riding on that dick as if it was your last day on earth, and Frank/Jon, seeing you so desperate says: "easy babe, easy- ffuck- easyy or you're gonna be the death of me".

Am-am I the only one who finds it INCREDIBLY hot the way he says "easy"? I mean-

#marvel x you #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu imagine #mcu imagines #incorrect marvel quotes #mcu incorrect quotes #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle smut #frank castle #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x male reader #frank castle x gender neutral reader #frank castle x you #the punisher smut #jon bernthal smut #jon bernthal #jon bernthal x reader

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whoreofdilfs · 2 years

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frank castle can do anything he wants to me in any position, in every way 😩

#frank castle angst #the punisher #punisher x reader #frank castle #frank castle x gender neutral reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle smut

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moonknightyws · 2 years

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Creaming rn

#marvel #frank castle #frank castle smut #jon bernthal #frank castle angst #frank castle fic #frank castle fluff #frank castle imagine #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x gender neutral reader

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itwasthereaminuteago · 1 year

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|| Do Your Worst ||

Frank Castle x gn!reader

Tags/warnings: none really? Fluff ultimately.

WC: 3200

Frank Castle, an army of one, with all of the burdens that came with it.

It was heavy around his shoulders, a bloody cape he could never take off, and yet you just crawled right under it with him, sheltering from this storm together.

Every time he touched you he felt the dark red retribution dripping from his hands and staining your skin. Not something that would wash off so easily.

His heart had healed from his past with crooked, raw stitches, but you had somehow got right in there, softened them, and opened it back up. Yes, the scars would remain, but now it just might heal a little better than before.

Your own heart was rent open with every ragged wound he returned with, constricting with the constant dread that one day he'd just never reappear at your door. That maybe one night, when he falls, exhausted and broken into your embrace, it would be for the last time and you wouldn't even know.

You knew his grief, his hurt. You'd visited their graves with him once, Maria and the kids, but you couldn't possibly fathom the vastness, the endless breadth of it. Your love may have only now taken up a small corner of that dark void, but every time he was with you, it would grow a little more, the warm light of it would shine a little brighter.

Frank-

It was the touch of your hands coming gently to cradle his face that brought him back to the present, his eyes refocusing, finally finding yours and not just looking beyond you into a future that he might be afraid to let play out.

"Frankie…"

"Yeah. Yeah..." His voice seems so small.

You're looking straight at him but there's no concern or expectation in your expression for him to explain where he went, whether it was in his own head or elsewhere. You gave him exactly what he needed so willingly, always so fucking patient. He knew he didn't deserve you. Or maybe he did. You were someone that was willing to guide him through the repair, someone that he'd actually trust with that monster of a battle. And yeah, it was hard in the beginning when he could feel his caged up emotions waiting and wanting to be released, but he was still stubbornly clutching onto the key. Maybe he could do it alone, it would be safer where you were concerned, but was that what he really wanted?

He rests his forehead against yours, hands reaching to take yours in his and clasp them on his lap as you kneel in front of him. He swallows and takes a deep inhale.

"Y'should get out of this while you still can." He says, quiet.

"Oh it's much too late for that baby." You respond, squeezing his hands gently as you run your thumbs over his bruised knuckles.

"Too late huh?"

You smile and there's that warm glow again.

"Yeah. M'in love with you. No going back now."

"Damn…" He chuckles breathily, pressing into you. He raises your hands to his lips and kisses your fingers softly, over and over.

"Well you know you got your work cut out with me, don't ya?" He warns as he pulls back and you let out a huff of breath.

Those dark eyes are so often stony and hard, but they soften as you don't even seem to think twice about what it means to be with the kind of man he is.

"I know I do. So are you gonna let me try?"

He dips his head, but he can't hide the smile pulling up the corners of his mouth.

"Yeah, go on baby. Do your worst."

#frank castle x gender neutral reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle angst #frank castle fluff

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tomurderornottomurder · 2 years

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a new something; matt murdock & frank castle

pair. matt murdock x gn!reader x frank castle

summ. you get a haircut n the boys compliment u

gen. fluff

tw. brief mention of self loathing, that should be it

wc. 300+

note. these two are <333

- frank's the first to notice the change, given he can see and matt can't also matt's not home yet lol

- immediately smiles at you and tells you, "it looks good."

- he's also a little taken aback just because you had been growing your hair and now it's short, not that he minded either way, it was just something to get used to

- also immediately asks to run his hands through your hair

- you oblige him, bowing your head and everything, and he pulls you forward to kiss your face

- matt comes back from work and you approach him right away, telling him to feel your hair

- he's like ok?? then he actually touches your hair and it registers, you got a haircut!

- he smiles, still feeling your hair, "did frank tell you you're beautiful or do i have to?"

- "frank did. but you should do it anyway."

- and he does before giving you a big ol kiss <3

- "any reason for it?" he asks, purely out of curiosity. "i thought you were growing it out."

- you hum, "our anniversary's coming up, wanted to look nice." you shrug.

- "you'd look nice either way," matt assures you with a kiss to the nose.

- "i know. just needed it."

- "okay," matt nods. he's satisfied that you're not self loathing because you did it too often and both him and frank hated it.

- he then greets frank and takes a place on the couch before you squeeze between the two.

- you lay your head on matt and he runs his hands over your hair and head and face while frank rubs your legs

- okay the end <3

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martyrmurdock · 1 year

Text

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓

♡ note: frankie really is the king of my heart ♡

♡ pairing: frank castle x gn reader

♡ word count: .8k

♡ tags: fluff, mentions of blood and injuries (not graphic), sweetheart used a pet name for reader

it is well past two in the morning by the time frank enters the apartment. within the walls that have housed him for the past few months, it is dark as night save for the dim light flickering every now and then in the kitchen. he does not bother with taking off his combat boots, dirty with a mix of grime and blood, but he does soften his steps, his footfalls nearly silent as he makes his way to the kitchen, drawn in like a moth to an open flame.

he stops right at the entrance of the kitchen, his broad frame taking up the entirety of the narrow space separating the kitchen from the rest of the room. you're the sole occupant of the kitchen, and frank quietly observes you. he'll make himself known or you'll notice him, but before then, he takes the sight of you in.

you have a soft throw blanket, which you bought on sale from the department store, wrapped around your shoulders. beneath the blanket, you're wearing your pajamas, which consists of one of frank's t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants that are a good few years old by now. you're slightly hunched over the counter. there is a white mug printed with some design that you found cute when you first saw it that sits between your hands as you stir the liquid, deep brown in color, within it using a small metal spoon.

as if you can feel frank's eyes on you, you look up at that exact moment and meet his gaze. there is no indication of any surprise or shock on your face when your eyes meet frank's. your eyes merely crinkle at the edges as your lips stretch into a smile, softened by the sleepiness you must be feeling.

you lift the mug you're holding, and frank can see the flowery pattern that decorates the space between your fingers. "you want some hot cocoa, frankie?"

the corners of his lips twitch.

"i'd love some," frank says, even though he's not the fondest of hot chocolate. he is not lying, however. he thinks he would agree to anything you asked of him if it made you happy.

he watches as you open up one of the cabinets and grab a mug for him, the matching one to the one on the counter. you glance back at him and make a shooing motion.

"go get yourself cleaned up while i make you a mug."

frank knows better than to argue with you and nods. but before he leaves for the bathroom, he enters the kitchen and slowly walks until he is right beside you. you angle your body to face him, looking at him with an unspoken question written across your face. frank answers by pressing his forehead to yours. your eyes flutter shut, and a comfortable silence falls over you like a gentle wave.

frank breaks it with a "thank you, sweetheart." his lips brush against your temple before he leaves the kitchen to go get himself cleaned up. he may not be seriously injured, but he is still covered in filth.

he quickly washes up in the shower, scrubbing away all the grime and dried blood that's stuck to his skin. it swirls down the drain before disappearing from frank's view. once he's satisfied with his state of cleanliness, frank turns the water off. while mist from the heat of his shower still clings to every surface in the bathroom, frank diligently dresses his wounds before dressing himself.

a fresh mug of hot chocolate already sits on the counter, still steaming and waiting for frank, by the time he's finished cleaning himself up. your mug, empty now, is placed in the sink, to be washed at a later time.

once you notice frank, you carefully pick up the mug, mindful of how hot the ceramic is, and hold it out for him to take. his fingers overlap with yours, and he lets his touch linger, only briefly, before he eventually takes the mug from you.

"thank you, sweetheart," frank says again. he tilts the mug back and takes a long, slow sip of the hot chocolate, letting the warm and rich flavor lie on his tongue. “tastes great,” he says, his words truthful and honest. frank may not love hot chocolate, but he sure as hell loves the way you make it. you make a mean hot chocolate.

“i’m glad you like it,” you say, giving frank a soft, sloping smile. you pull your slipping blanket tighter around your shoulders before waddling closer to frank. you open up your arms, inviting frank into your blanket. he silently accepts the invitation, wrapping an arm around you and gently pulling you close to him. you press your cheek against frank’s chest and loudly sigh in contentment. “things taste better when they’re made with love, don’t they?” you muse.

frank takes another sip of hot chocolate, warmth seeping into every fiber of his body and settling deep into his bones. the corner of his lips quirks up in a small lopsided smile, one that’s unbearably fond and soft. one that is reserved only for you.

“yeah,” he says, “yeah, they do.”

#frank castle x reader #the punisher x reader #frank castle x gender neutral reader #the punisher x gender neutral reader #frank castle x gn reader #the punisher x gn reader #frank castle fluff #martyr writes #saint.frank castle

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modern-vellichor · 2 years

Note

More Frank Castle angst?

-a/n; your wish is my command + send more requests xo -warnings; angst el oh el, blood + gore, cannon violence. -summary; Frank isn't a fan of the new you.

You hadn't seen Frank in years. Honestly, you're better for it. Frank was awful - life with Frank was awful. It wasn't a life at all. You never had a home, you never ate real food, you never felt safe. You still don't feel safe, but you feel safer without him. You've changed your name, changed your ways. You still work, your job hasn't changed, but you're cleaner. You're quicker and quieter without Frank's untamed violence. Nobody was after you, you were as good as a ghost.

Life was going great without Frank, until he resurfaced. You were waiting for coffee when you spotted him. He was lumbering down the street. You shrunk into the corner. You pulled your hood up over your head and took your coffee. You sped out of the coffee shop and walked as quick as possible without arousing suspicion. But Frank was smart. He was on your tail quicker than a bloodhound. You were nearly running through the city, you could practically smell Frank. You tried to hide in an alley, but he was The Punisher, of course he found you. You prepared for a fight, for something, anything. But he just held up his hands. He was surrendering.

"What do you want?" You called out, keeping a distance between you and Frank.

"I need your help. I've been watching you for years, but I need you."

"How much?"

There was no point arguing with him. Frank hated asking for help, so he obviously needed it badly. He offered you e decent sum of money, enough to last you a good few months without working. He said he'd leave you alone after finishing the job. And you believed him. It was a silly mistake. You should have known better. You can never trust him.

You did your job. You collected your money. Frank left you alone for a week before he knocked on your door again. You don't remember how the fight started. You remember Frank telling you he still loved you, that he's missed you all these years, watching and protecting from the shadows. And then it escalated. You threw a glass, he threw a plate, you pulled a knife he pulled a gun. You wouldn't have to try very hard to fake your death this time, your apartment already looked like a murder scene. Frank fell to the floor and you straddled his waist. You raised your knife above your head.

"What happened to you?" He choked.

"Shut up."

"What happened to the girl I fell in love with?"

"She was weak."

You brought the knife down. You left the apartment. There's one rule to live by when you work in your line of duty.

Never look back.

#frank castle fanfiction #frank x reader #frank castle #frank castle imagine #frank castle x gender neutral reader #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle fluff #frank castle fic #frank castle oneshot #frank castle drabble #frank castle angst #the punisher fic #the punisher x you #the punisher x reader

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russosafehaven · 1 year

Text

We’ll Be Here to The End

Gif is not mine, found on Pinterest

Content: Character Death, Suicide, Murder, Overall Dark Content, OD, There is a sui letter at the end that is based off of one of my own so be wary of that, reader has an established last name

Pairing: Billy Russo x Ghost!Reader

Just a little drabble about Billy’s death!

BR Taglist: @snowkestrel

“Please man.. you gotta believe me I didn’t do it. Curtis please.. help me”

He was lost. You’d always watched Billy after your death, sometimes gaining enough energy to be more than a apparition. Over a decade ago you had overdosed on your anti-depressants. It had all gotten bad again when Billy had left for training. You’d been struggling with a cutting addiction since you were 11 years old, home life got rough and you didn’t know how else to cope. When you turned 14 you’d met Billy at school. He was a transfer, having been expelled from his last school for disruptive behaviour. You were assigned to keep him in line, no matter what he said or did to you.

“Curtis please… I need you to believe me”

You watched with intent as he bled out. Hand clutching his stomach as the blood seeped through. The hang up tone from his phone rang throughout the room. Part of you wished you hadn’t ended it.

“Are you there…? Please… it hurts… fix it please.. Frankie won’t.. neither will Curtis you’re all I have…”

His cries for mercy were pitiful and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was your fault he was like this. If you hadn’t killed yourself would he have worked for Rawlins? No, of course he wouldn’t. The shit Rawlins did was illegal, you turned him into the monster he became.

“Billy…”

You called out, your body lighting up at the glow of the sun. His dark eyes looked at you, framed with soft pink lines. A sign of who he’d become. You had watched the fight, desperate to stop Frank from hurting your Billy in the way he did. Yet you couldn’t do anything but spectate. You hadn’t known Frank before your death, Billy having met him in the Marines. In a way he replaced you, yet Frank could never live up to you. It was a fact you knew well, Billy may have loved the Castles but he worshipped you.

The door opened and there stood Frank. Yet it wasn’t the man you once saw, this Frank was cold and unforgiving. Not the father full of a morbid light that he once was. This was all Punisher, the terroriser of New York City. Pity filled you as you watched the two men. That was until Frank’s eyes landed on you. The outlines of a friend Billy once spoke of. Maria used to called you Billy’s guardian angel. That once you had passed on, you dedicated your afterlife to protecting him. To an extent she was right, but you were no angel. Far from it, the world stripped you of your delicacy. Arthur stripped you of your innocence.

“You. You’re the one Billy always spoke about huh?”

Frank’s voice was deep and husky. Rough and coated with venom. Venom that Billy had produced when he didn’t protect the Castles.

“I am, I’m here to take Billy home”

Billy looked at you. You knelt down in front of him, a transparent hand coming to his face. Pretending to wipe the tears away. Frank walked up behind you, pointing a gun at his former best friend.

“Good, you can keep the son of a bitch”

With that a bullet shot rang out. Piercing Billy’s skull. You watched silently, a grotesque smile crossing your face. Billy will be home soon.

“You’re a sad man Francis Castiglione”

You turned around to face Frank. Studying the man with sad eyes. He had no remorse for his actions, he had no intent to live and yet he did. He was stronger than you could have ever been.

“How… How do you know that? I ain’t been Francis Castiglione for years”

A small giggle escaped your lips. Truth was you had been there at the carousel shooting. Pulling the Castles souls from their bodies, welcoming them to their afterlife. Maria had grown close to you and the two younger ghosts had taken to you as a parental figure.

“Maria told me, you know I was there that day. I watched Billy’s face full with regret when the bullets pierced Juniors flesh. I watched as Maria screamed and covered her daughters body. I watched as you survived and they all fell to the floor, limp and lifeless. I watched as Billy walked away, tears soaking his face. He cried for months you know? Put a real dent in Anvil. He put himself back together, he’s lost so much. He’s home now though. With me, it was always me Francis. He betrayed your family in hopes you would kill him, this was always his endgame. That day on the carousel I was hoping you’d kill him, give him to me but you were too weak. Instead he just lost his memory, I had to try so hard to get him to trust me. I told him the truth, it’s how he figured it out. Billy wanted you to kill him but he didn’t want the Castle family to die. Maria knows it, Lisa and Junior they both know it. You’re the only one left Francis”

Dark eyes were trained on you. As he came at you, he must have forgotten you were an apparition. His large body landed into the wall, cracking it.

“YOU DON’T TALK ‘BOUT MY FAMILY OKAY?!”

Blood started to seep through his clothes. Hands wrapped around you, Billy’s hand. You could be together again.

“Look in his pockets Francis, you might find something interesting”

As Billy guided you out of the building you both floated peacefully. You were together again, that’s all that mattered.

He stood alone for a few minutes before Frank did as you said. Rummaging through his best friends pockets. All he found was a piece of paper and a small bunny toy. Pink and covered in dirt. Unfolding the paper, Curtis appeared over his shoulder. Frank turned around, acknowledging his friends presence. In silence they read the letter.

Dear Billy,

This will be my last letter to you and for that I am sorry. I know this is a pretty shitty goodbye but by the time you read this I’ll be dead. I love you with all that I am but I cannot keep doing this. You’re gone and you were all I had. My parents are getting worse. I went to my fathers for Christmas, my brother came with me but it was horrible. He touched me, my father he touched me again Billy. They did nothing to stop it. I’ve relapsed, really fucking badly and I wish I didn’t. You’re my world, so with this letter Im leaving you Cottontail. You remember the small bunny I always carry around? I want you to have them. They’ll protect you when you go on tour. So while I know that you will hate me for this, hate me for all I’ve done to you I am sorry. Know that I’ll always watch over you from above. Whenever you need me I will be there, even if you cannot see. William Russo you have protected me ever since we met, I wish that you hadn’t been pained the way you had. Maybe in another life we’ll be together again. I hope you visit my grave, and if you don’t know that I’ll wait for you anyways. I wanted to make it to 18, so I could try and enlist with you and we could be together. I just couldn’t, this is all far too much Billy. I wanted to confess to you, tell you how I’ve been madly in love with you since we were dumb fifteen year olds making out in the the library because you wanted to see what kissing was like. So William Russo, when you pass on whenever that may be. I hope you find me in the after life.

Your bunny, Y/N Walsh

P.S I know one day you wanted to open your own company. Well after you leave the Marines what about security? You’d be perfect for it after your service. I’ve always liked the name Anvil for a company. Stay safe my love, find friends. I may have been a failure but others won’t be. You’ll find you family Billy.

Frank and Curtis looked at one another, all of a sudden it fell into place. Anvil, his outbursts, why he spent drunken nights crying by a grave. They lost their brother because he lost his world.

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alidafirtup · 2 years

Text

stay with me, my blood, you don't need to run (frank castle)

▪️pairing: frank castle & castle!gn!reader –but more leaning to male reader really–dad!frank all the way man

▪️word count: longer than i thought this would turn out to be um,

▪️summary: reader is frank's oldest child. aged around 18-19ish just fresh outta highschool. reader thought frank's actually dead after the boat explosion in daredevil season two until they were taken by some bad guys and frank has to come get them

▪️warnings: angstttttt, violence, mentions of death, reader having The Big Sad™️, reader pointing a gun at frank, swear words, just overal angry, angry reader. bit ooc on frank probably idk man this is just brain vomit. notice the writing style jumping around and shit heh. this is my first time actually writing a full one shot story instead of my usual blurbs and ideas, be gentle bc i will cry. english is like, my 3rd language so mistakes and warnings i forgot to mention would be 100% my fault and please be careful

[gifs r mine, sorry they're ass lmaoo]

Having your father being who he was you should've know this day will come. Well, to be fair you're a bit surprised this didn't happen when you sat on the podium of the courtroom in the Frank Castle vs. The People of New York case trial. Everybody knows your name and face now because of what he did. And sooner or later will come men demand you to pay for what your father has done. A vicious never ending cycle of 'Eye for an eye' situation. Alas, you were too busy living inside your head to think about this moment.

It's no one's fault but those who pulled the trigger, really. You are only alive because you weren't there the day the massacre happened. Some stupid school thing you didn't even remember how important it was that you chose to go there instead of spending time going to the park with your family. It was also the day after your dad came home after being away serving for so long. Your mom thought it would be wonderful to go out on a picnic, it was a beautiful day outside too. Hell, even Uncle Billy was there. All you remember was the moment the school staff called you to the office to tell you what happened.

You were never even that close with your father to begin with, what with his time with the army and all. You didn't even know the man that well really, he was away all the time and when he's home his soul isn't home at all. They say war changes people. And he got that thousand yards stare people always joke around about. He never even bothered to make a small talk. It's like he'd rather to be in war than to be home with you. But then again Frank wasn't the man with many words anyway. All you know was that your dad proposed to your mom the next day he found out your mom was pregnant with you. That change little by little when your parents decided to have Lisa and Junior though, he started to come home more often than he used to. He also warmed up more and actually tried to talk to you here and there. Asking you how school was, which you always answer with a quiet "It's fine," or, "It's great." and the conversation dies there, et cetera, et cetera. You didn't really feel the need to talk or get to know him so you just... didn't bother either. You were fine with him being away, it's what you got for having a marine as a dad anyway.

Your baby siblings were different though, with them being a lot younger than you. They're always so excited. Every single time your dad's home it's like it's Christmas. Every single time. Their smiles and cheers light up the whole room like that evening star in the Princess and The Frog movie. You dad was like that evening star for them, they told you so one day.

"That's weird. The star's name is Evangeline. Does he look like an Evangeline to you? also it sounds like he's dead the way you two look at the stars while thinking about dad," you made a face at Lisa as she played with one of the many plastic dinosours she owned.

"Never say that again." Your mom sternly said as she puts down a plate of cookies on the floor. She had this look in her eyes that had you shut your mouth immediately.

Not a day, not a second that you're not thinking about your siblings. They were so young, too young. It's not fair. The world is so cruel, cold and so cruel. Oftentimes your twisted, selfish side wish you were there at the park with them just so it could spare you the pain. Everything happened too fast, you lost everything you had in just one day. Your family, your innocence, your future, your hope, everything just, gone, that day. Vanish. Poof. You might as well just lose your dad too with the way he was hanging on a thread the moment he woke up from his coma. You didn't even recognize the man anymore, he was just so... out of it. Memory fading in and out you had to help him fill in on what happened. But somehow he recognized you, even called you by your name. You didn't know if you should feel relieved by that or worried since the guy never really refer to you as anything other than "Kid" or "Buddy", in fact you didn't really know what to feel at those times what with every single feelings known being thrown at you like bricks. You visited him every day he was at the hospital nevertheless.

Every other day you would go to the park as well. You would sit on one of the benches in front of the carousel and just, think about everything that happened to you. Taking the time to feel sorry for yourself because shit, you were just a kid too. One night you lost track of time and actually sat until dawn. You didn't realize until the warmth of the sun hit your nose and you hear birds chirp their morning sonnet. You marvelled the way the sunlight hit the tip of the the carousel roof and all the painted ponies just right.

Only when your father decided to go on his killing spree quest did you really lost every thing then. Gunning down every single one who so much as sniffed on the idea of the carousel massacre. You see Frank as a complete stranger now. You were also too caught up in grief to call him out about how wrong his doings were. He's a marine, killing people is his job. Doesn't matter that the only difference is that the army is legal. You didn't care about that, those bastards deserves it anyway. They have to pay, every single one of them for taking your mom from you. She didn't even got the time to guide you through your life for fuck's sake.

Frank pulled himself away too, choosing to live in his van and away from you. You realize that it's not safe to live in your old home too so you moved in to a studio apartment which every now and then–as in, every few months– Frank would visit all bloody and battered when he got wounds that he can't fix himself and needed someone to do it for him. Like the one time he got shot in the ass and couldn't take the bullet out by himself.

"Dad, I don't know what I'm doing," you anxiously told him, one hand holding a pair of forceps.

"Look just take the goddamn bullet out and close the wound, alright," he gruffly demanded, leaning over the sink ass out and everything. Quite a night if you think so yourself.

And some nights are better than the other, sometimes worse, sometimes Frank would strut into your place barely alive, swaying left and right dripping blood everywhere that you had to call Uncle Curt as if he's your personal doctor. Well, he basically is now isn't he whether he likes it or not. Poor guy just needs his rest.

You also remember one night Frank showed up to your apartment with almost to no scratch on his skin at all, bringing some McD's and quipped "Y'should put some meat in those skinny arms of yours, kid." which you return with a pair of confused eyes and a snort.

Some days you wish these kinda nights would bring the two of you closer, you wish Frank would just sit down, just for a moment with you. Process what happened. To grieve for your family, or just think about them rather than their deaths tearing the two of you apart. You're all each other's got left afterall.

One fateful night Frank came over, face black and blue but he stood tall. Announcing you about the guy called "The Blacksmith" saying he's going after him, putting an end to this. You never know about the boat, you never asked. You don't think you want to know anything about what Frank has been doing every night.

The next morning you woke up with a "FRANK CASTLE DEAD: Escaped Vigilante Suspected Dead After Explosion" written in giant letters and a picture of an x-ray scan of a skull, Frank's skull. You never went out of bed the next 36 hours after you read the paper. You didn't even cry you just felt so...hollow. You never now how emptiness could ever feel so heavy.

Everything was going so fast sometimes you feel like you're in a timelapse documentation of your own life with you being the only one moving in slow motion. The trial, The Daredevil, your dad going to jail, your dad going out of jail, Wilson Fisk. Only time when time seems to slow down was when you're at the park in the middle of the night. And that's where you are right now.

You were sitting in front of the carousel when you feel something prick at the back of your neck. Your hand went up to touch your neck and you pull out some kind of...dart?

"That's not fair..." you feel yourself sway forward but before you fall on your face they were two men grabbing you and the last thing you see were them pulling you into a van.

You wake up to some guy pushing something up your nose that got you inhale sharply and coughing from the smell. You're strapped to a chair, wrists and ankles, great. Your eyes dart around the dim litted damp cold room, some kind of basement, you feel. "How original," you irked.

"We awake?" a guy goes to grab your chin, "Hi there," he chirps, you look him straight in the eye.

"Is this the part where I ask you who you are and what you want from me?" you challenge lazily.

"No," he honest to God giggled, "This is the part where I punch you in the face." he hissed as he does what he said. His knuckles meets your temple which soon is going to give you a not-so-aesthetic black eye. Sissy bitch. "Now you can ask me who am I and what I want from you– actually no why don't I save us both the time and energy, you pick one kid; who am I or what do I want from you."

But before you can even think of answering he says again, "Good choice!" his voice actually turn from annoying to aggravating. He should really pick a struggle. "I want your dad." Okay. You've had just about enough of his bullshit.

You actually let out a chuckle though, you can't lie that that was not a good joke, "Why don't you go suck my dick since you got me all tied up and unmoving you kinky piece of–" he awarded you with another punch to the nose this time, got it running blood from one nostril almost immediately, God, no wonder those soccer kids in your school says you're a nerd. Thank Christ school's over for good.

"That's homophobic." you breathe. "You know if you want my Da so much why don't you dug him up yourself? Mount Zion Cemetery, 6 feet under the ground where he lays. He's fucking dead you imbecilic bitch,"

The guy stares you down. You wonder what'll happen if you ask for his name since you're getting tired of calling him "This Guy" in your head. He calls for his men and gestures towards you with his chin.

You let out a dramatic sigh. "What's with you men and beating people up in groups to get the information you need? God, if that's not small dick energy i don't know what–" your words were left unfinished as a slap lands on your face.

"You wanna be as tough as your old man you're gonna wanna shut that hole in the middle of your face." he growled.

"Look," you heave after a shit ton of beatings later, you hate that you almost beg now, "I'm trying to tell you scumbags you've got the wrong kid, alright? My 'old man', he's dead."

"See, I thought that too. but he keeps coming back, you know, like a cockroach, but with guns."

You scoffed, panting slightly. One of your nostrils is clogged, thick blood running slowly down the other. God, does your sinuses burn.

"You watch the news lately kid?"

You spit, seeing droplets of crimson, chest expanded as you take a deep breath. "'Fuck you mean,"

Once again your words were just a trail off and apparently this guy's not the one to let people finish their sentences. He shoves a phone into your face, the screen showing a dashcam footage of man running into the hood of a car who happens to be...Frank. That's Frank. That's your dad in the footage. You feel your heart starts beating really fast. Okay...maybe this guy slaps you a bit too hard. Then again you wouldn't be here strapped to a chair getting beat to a pulp if the video isn't real.

◼◼◼

"How long you're going to do this again?"

"Curt." Frank warns.

"I can't lie anymore to the kid Frank do you know how many times I have to–"

"It's better this way you hear me? I can't lose the kid."

"Yeah, speaking of the kid–" Micro chimed in, interrupting what was soon to be a heated argument between the ex-soldiers. His eyes scan one of the many screen in the basement. The one that's set to the camera Frank sneaked into your room in one of his visits.

"Kid's should be home by now right?"

◼◼◼

You're woken up again by a hand harshly wiping the blood that drips out of your mouth with a towel. You received another dozens of beating after your reaction from watching the footage resulting in you passing out after a good punch to the nose. Damn, apparently it's a sin for not knowing what the hell is going on. You blink your eyes open almost lazily and catch a glimpse of a gun sitting nicely on the back pocket of your taker. You eye it for a moment before he cooes, "Oh, you want this? it's not gonna help you sweet cheeks," he said as he put his hand on the pistol briefly.

Suddenly you hear guns blazing outside of the room, you hear the alarmed almost scared tone in your taker's voice. "He's here," before he hurries to take a knife from his sleeve to cut off the ties that bound you to the chair, pulls you out of your feet and wraps his arm around your throat while his other arm went around his back to grab his gun and point it to your temple.

Frank kicks the door open, taking the other two goons of your taker with two clean headshots.

"Put your gun down or I'll french fry your little mini me's brains out."

"What–" you breathe, Frank shushes you, telling you it's alright, that you're okay.

The guy looks between the two of you and chuckles, "Oh, I remember what it's like being the firstborn, you parents don't give a shit enough about you that you basically raise yourself."

You've had enough of this guy's bullshit for real this time and a sudden wave of adrenaline gifted from everything that is happening right now got you slamming your heel to his foot hard and somehow grabbed his gun and kill him with two shots.

Then point the gun to Frank.

So turns out your dad is alive all this time and has been "watching over you" through cameras with some guy called Micro who also does the same thing to his family. That's how he knows your location. You couldn't believe this, You should've know all about this but you were so caught up in your head that something so mundane like someone setting up a camera around your house were went unnoticed by you. Unlike your dad technology was always your thing. You feel so sick you taste bile in your throat. Frank put his palms up while still shushing you like you're an animal going feral

"Kid–"

"Stay right there."

"Woah, shshh... hey, now, it's okay, it's me, it's me kid. I know you're mad, I know you're confused, but I needed to get away. I needed to keep you safe," Frank is freaking out a bit, words tumbling out of his mouth in rambles.

"No."

"Kid, put the gun down,"

"Speak."

"Easy–"

"What?! What were you trying to say?" you shouted, "Talk,"

"I was trying to protect you–"

"Yeah, you're doing a pretty shit job at it," your words are snaled, eyes glassy with unshed traitorous tears. God every inch of your body hurt. Frank put his hands up, almost stunned, mouth opening and closing again.

"Protect me from what, huh? What is it you were keeping me safe from? Bad people? Those you've killed? Those you made pay for our family? Ones that i have to pay too?"

Frank makes an attempt to take a step closer. "No. No, no, listen to me–"

"Come any closer, I swear to Christ I will unload this fucking thing," you're hysterical now, body shaking, But your hands are impossibly still, holding the weapon. So tight the knuckles turning white because of it. It's almost like holding a gun was as easy as blinking your eyes despite it being your first time. Frank thinks for a brief second that you'd make a good soldier if it was a different situation. Frank can't do nothing other than holding his hands up pleading–begging for his kid to calm down just for a bit, to let him talk, to listen.

"You're dead." you hate how your voice shake and your vision blurry with tears. You hate that you feel weak in front of Frank.

"Please, I–" Frank continues to try to shush you as if he's trying to calm an animal going feral.

"No you're dead! my father is dead. I saw that boat got blown to shit. You have a gravestone just like them. Just like mom. I visit you. Every week. I tell you what's going on with my life. I mourned you. I grieved for you. I–" you're breathing so hard right now it hurt your chest.

Something snapped in your mind, "Does Curt know?"

"He doesn't know this would happen–"

"Cut the bullshit, Frank. Does. He. Know."

"Yeah." remorse fills Frank's tone.

"All this time," you scoff out a laugh, deep from your hurting chest in disbelieve. You put the gun down finally but the safety is still off.

"Every single night I've thought to end it all because there is no point in keeping on going. I can not do this alone. And you just sat there, yeah? Watching me. keeping me 'safe'. you said."

"Look kid, I know I should've come for you but it ain't that easy."

"You know what, I dont give a shit–"

Frank just doesn't want you to say things you don't mean, "Be careful with your words–"

"I don't wanna hear another single goddamn word out of your mouth," you grit through your teeth. Even after all the shit he put you through his ass still scolds you for saying bad words? He's done.

"I don't give a shit what you did, I don't care that you kill people because you're not the only one who's angry, who's enraged. Even in your "punisher" days. Even standing in court of your trial I stood up for you."

Frank averts his eyes to the gun still in your hand. He can't see you in your eyes. The hurtful look in your eyes, Frank doesn't think he'll be able to forget that, it's engrained into his brain forever now.

"I lost my mother. I lost my baby siblings, I lost everyone I have ever cared of. Everyone. But I was wrong right? Not all of them. You're here. Like, here here. breathing and kicking.

"You should've come for me you got that right. but you know what I would've understand. I'd understand you gotta go. That you gotta do what you gotta do. The least you could do was teach me how to fight. You would've want me to fight, right? 'Least you could do was teach me to be something. Someone that's not helpless. So you don't have to what keep me 'safe'."

You gulped, eyes drilling holes into Frank's face. Man, were you thirsty. "But no instead you gotta leave me, alone with only my thoughts,"

Frank stands there, trigger finger twitching like crazy. Letting you let out your anger. Every words, every curse you throw at him, he deserves it all.

"I never ask for much, you know? Even as a child, You know I always keep to myself. And I needed someone. I needed you. Like we don't even have to talk I wanted to just sit with you. That's it, dad. That's all I ever want. I promise that's it please, I promise–" your words morph into broken sobs as you can't take it anymore and that's where Frank marches forward and grabs you, wrapping you in his arms so tight as if his life depended on it, you relaxed a little in his arms and that's where he grabbed the gun from your hand and toss it far. Far away he didnt even know where it lands.

"Shhh, shh it's okay, I'm so sorry, you're okay, it's going to be okay, God, I am so sorry," his words are murmured at the top of your head, over and over and over like a prayer. Bodies trembling, you let out another quiet sob into his chest. As if you feel like you shouldn't cry. Like you think your dad doesn't deserve a single one of your tears and that's when you realized.

You pushed Frank so hard his much bigger frame actually tumbles over and falls to his side. You didn't know where all this strength came from but you don't care, everything hurt too much and you're so, so exhausted. Frank stares up at you with a stunned disbelieved look in his tear stained face.

However the force from it all affected you as well as you feel your body sway and your legs gives up causing you to drop to your knees out of exhaustion. Frank crawled over to you just in time before you hit your head on the ground, catching you again in his arms.

You wake up again, the third time from passing out, sitting in the passenger seat. Head against the window, you stare at the trees you drove by.

"You alright?" Frank cautiously asks.

You don't answer, lips sealed shut. It's silent the entire ride.

#i think im #nap now #frank castle x reader #frank castle #frank castle x gender neutral reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x castle!reader #frank castle angst #the punisher #jon bernthal #the punisher x reader #frank castle x gn!reader

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