#matt murdock x reader x frank castle | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

madschiavelique · 4 months

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𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐛 — 𝟏

⟢﹒ pairing : matt murdock x vigilante!reader x frank castle

⟢﹒ summary : you’d met them, became their teammate, and the one night you got severely wounded, they took you to their place to patch you up.

⟢﹒ content warnings : i am not a doctor nor do i have any knowledge on how to take care of wounds like that properly so very inaccurate patching up session, mentions of blood, wounds, mentions of needle (to saw reader’s wound), afab!reader, stubborn reader, but stubborn frank, no use of y/n, not proofread

⟢﹒ word count : 7,2k

⟢﹒ note : this is the first part of a 2shot where the second part will be a smut with hunter/prey dynamic ! have a good read <;33

⟢ next part : here

The clouds were brown tonight, covering the inky blackness of the sky like a mass of cotton gathering up the streetlights of Hell's Kitchen. Everything seemed to be reflecting off a lake, the puddles of rain from earlier in the day having settled on every rooftop in the city in a myriad of mirrors.

It was quiet, abnormally quiet even. Hell's Kitchen wasn't exactly your typical idyllic holiday destination; on the contrary, it was the place to flee if you had the chance. Crime had its patch on every street corner, and not a single day or night went by without something happening.

But now, nothing. No problems. No calls for help. Just the calm of an evening.

Sitting on the edge of a roof, your legs dangling boredly in the air, you listened to your little radio set beside your thigh, hoping that one of the police stations would report a problem. But everything was peaceful.

It had already been a few months since you had taken on the attire of the night, taken on the role of vigilante in Hell's Kitchen, and every evening you found yourself chasing crime out of town like a broom sweeping dust out of the way.

It wasn't necessarily an easy rhythm. After an already long day at work, you usually tried to get some sleep before starting your patrol. You'd realised that although there was no particular time for crime, most of them started after midnight.

But it was already one o'clock in the morning and there was nothing to report. You wondered whether perhaps you were doing your job as a vigilante too well. If you did, this kind of evening was set to happen, because if you did eradicate every crime all at once, there wouldn't be any left for later. The bitter reassurance that, unfortunately, crime, born since the dawn of time, would only die with men, gripped your heart.

The pace of it all was sometimes exhausting, but the advantage of all this was that you weren't really working alone any more. At first, the idea of joining forces with anyone to bring justice to the world of night seemed complicated, for several reasons.

Firstly, coordination: having team-mates implied having a certain connection so that even without words being spoken, everything ran smoothly.

And secondly, attachment. An environment like this where every night can be your last if you don't keep a minimum of vigilance can prove destructive. It would be too painful to lose an ally, and even more so if it was your turn to leave and they found themselves grieving.

But colleagues - no, partners? Friends? Whatever, the allies you found on certain nights were probably the most resilient human beings you'd ever met, to the point where the very thought of them dying was impossible. After all, when you're working with two people who have both withstood a bullet to the head and who are sure of themselves, you can't help but feel safe - or very small and miserable in their presence.

You had met them on patrol when the sounds of banging and groans of pain could be heard in an alleyway. Immediately, you had split the sphere of your personally modified Bolas and had helped in the fight after observing the side you had to take. Recognising criminals had become like a sixth sense, but above all you had recognised Daredevil's outfit in the semi-darkness and the silhouette that appeared to be that of Frank Castle.

You were familiar with the work of both of them, had seen enough of their appearances in the newspapers and heard their actions on the radio enough to know that the two men fighting the dozen or so others below were none other than these two.

You had helped them, immobilising a man here, strangling a man of the thread of your bolas there, while the two acolytes were both taking part in the fight. It was only at the end of the latter that the barrage of questions began.

"Who are you?" was of course the first question Matt asked.

"Who do you work for?" was the first question Frank raised, naturally.

It didn't take too long for you to explain that crime was swarming around the city like cockroaches in a dirty carpet and that you wanted to clean up just like them.

Frank was suspicious, Matt was calm, and you were sweating buckets, dreading their every reaction. They weren't exactly idols to you, but you had great respect for them.

It was when Matt agreed that you were sincere and that there was nothing to fear about you that Frank relaxed a bit, without letting go of his grouchy and suspicious attitude. You'd assumed at first that Frank wouldn't appreciate such a radical change of routine that included bringing a new member into the evening vigilante group, but Matt had assured him that having one more person would allow them to be more effective.

And soon, you'd be meeting up from time to time in the evening if you were lucky enough to bump into each other.

First, you didn't reveal your identity immediately. There was a kind of silent agreement between the three of you on the subject. Of course, Frank's identity was no longer a mystery, but Matt's remained particularly anonymous for a long time.

Once enough trust had been established for Frank not to grumble at you at every given occasion, you were officially introduced.

You learned that Matthew Murdock was a blind lawyer with very heightened senses, and that Frank Castle lived with him, taking on a series of remote jobs under a different identity since his name was not really known in a very positive way.

You didn't see each other outside of work, often too busy with your own lives to find time to see each other, even if you didn't discuss your free time... at first anyway.

You had exchanged phone numbers, in case an emergency arose and you suddenly needed help. Your exchanges were very cordial, sending addresses or locations when help was needed or to investigate something suspicious.

The first much less professional encounter was on a more turbulent night than the others, when you were cut badly on the leg, flank and arm, with an additional cut to your lip from a punch.

According to Matt, your costume was similar to the one he wore when he first started as Daredevil. Dark clothes, something to hide your face and combat boots, needless to say that with just these to cover you up, you were extremely vulnerable.

When the fighting stopped, you didn't even have time to wince in pain that Matt was already beside you with a glove off and removing his helmet as Frank observed the situation.

"How bad is it?" Frank had asked, tilting his head to the side as the fabric covering your body darkened with blood.

"As bad as it looks to you and feels to me," Matt sighed as his fingertips brushed the skin of your side.

"It's all right," you assured them, moving slightly away from Matt and his touch, "really, it's fine."

"Are you sure? You look like you can barely walk properly." Matt had asked, obviously knowing that no, everything wasn't all right.

Probably because he'd used that speech over and over again himself, that and the simple fact that your body looked like a cute little pinocchio with a nose extended to its ears.

"Yeah yeah, no big deal - argh!" you started before Frank put his hand on the gaping wound in your arm. “Hey!”

"No big deal, eh? If it was no big deal ya wouldn't be reacting like this."

"It's nothing, really."

You had no idea if you sounded convincing… well, from the look on both their faces, you weren’t. Frank crossed his arms over his chest, looking you up and down as he bit the inside of his cheek.

You felt tiny under his gaze like that, barely lifting your eyes to look into his. There was a dark insistence in his stare, and you could tell he was frustrated, only whether it was about you or the situation in itself you weren't sure.

"What d’you say Red ?" he said after seconds that felt like minutes.

You turned to Matt, his gaze fixed as usual on a point in the void. But that didn't stop his eyes from being expressive, and the rest of his face reinforced them. You watched in the half-light the way his jaw muscles twitched in the lamplight and your heart fell in your stomach.

"Our flat is closer to here than hers," was what he ended up saying.

Your heart went right back up your chest as you blinked fast, frowning at the sentence he had so casually said.

"I'm sorry, what?" you asked, "how do you know I'm-" but you didn't finish your own sentence before starting the next, "you followed me all the way to my place?"

Matt put both hands on his hips with a sigh, biting his lower lip before finally answering.

"We had a bit of a scare the other night when you were cut on the shoulder. We just wanted to make sure... that you got home okay."

Your lips parted in surprise, shifting then from Matt to Frank, who was looking at his feet as if the ground was far more interesting than anything he had to say at the moment. You weren't sure how to feel about that.

In a way, you found it strange that they'd followed you home without telling you anything about it, but Matt with his keen senses would probably have known where you were sooner or later. Besides, it was well-intentioned, and the sudden thought that they cared about you - no, about your state - was surprisingly heart-warming.

"In any case," Matt continued, clearing his throat, "ours is a lot closer than yours, and in your current state, you could do with some treatment when you get there."

"I'm not planning to stay the night, am I?" you laughed nervously.

"Why not?" said Frank, raising his eyebrows and his shoulders in one gesture.

From now on, victory would go to the one with the most convincing argument.

"Well, I've got work tomorrow," you began, already thinking about the pain you'd have to endure in the morning when you woke up.

You could still feel your warm blood clinging to your clothes, and the sensation was becoming increasingly unpleasant.

"Say you're unwell, isn't far off the mark," Frank replied, pointing with a lazy wave of his hand at your body.

"But I don't have any clothes to spend the night in." You retorted, although the argument was easily contradicted by Matt's remark.

"We'll lend you some, it's no big deal," he assured you.

"I don't have a toothbrush," you retorted, as if that couldn't possibly be of any importance in this setting.

"We're not Cro-Magnons, we have backup ones," Matt laughed softly.

It was becoming a little more complicated to come up with relevant arguments. The blood loss was making you dizzy, weak, and preventing you from standing properly without grimacing every second while focusing all your attention on each cut and the intense burning sensation it gave you.

It wasn't so much that you didn't want to go, because on the contrary you found yourself enjoying their company more and more. It was simply the fact that...

"I'm afraid of imposing myself on you and bothering you." You said, looking away.

You were colleagues up to now, people who shared a common interest in justice, and you didn't mind their company. Only, you'd added to the mix completely unexpectedly. They'd already been working together before, even living together. You didn't know a great deal about their private lives and here you were, the millstone, getting hurt in the middle of a patrol and not being able to make a move without everything hurting.

You turned towards them again. The look on Frank's face was like the typical reaction of a human being who has just witnessed the greatest absurdity of all, while Matt's mouth was half-open in surprise. It almost seemed to you that saying that simple sentence had been a mistake.

"That's it, you're coming with us," Matt confirmed.

"Definitely," Frank affirmed as he approached you and placed one of his hands behind your back.

"Hey wait-" you had no say in the matter, though, as Frank's second hand came up behind your knees and lifted you off the ground.

Your hands barely grasped the back of his neck, wincing as you writhed in pain. You wouldn't have minded being carried. The fatigue of the evening weighed on each of your limbs as if they were full of lead.

You knew how to walk, one step in front of the other like most, and the suddenness of being lifted so easily into the air felt funny. You couldn't help fidgeting, caressing the hope of finding a position more comfortable than one that made you feel every inch of your skin open to the night air.

"Stop movin’ like a chicken ‘bouta have its throat cut," Frank grumbled as the two of them started walking.

"Put it on the ground and the chicken will calm down," you breathed through clenched teeth of discomfort.

"It's not a very long walk, I promise." Matt reassured you.

You huffed, clutching the collar of Frank's jacket to prevent yourself from squeezing the back of his neck too hard and getting another remark. You were torn between the uneasiness of the stir he made with every step, which you felt in every wound, and the new comfort you found in the embrace of his arms.

You felt so... safe that way. And not just with Frank, because you felt the same sense of tranquillity with Matt. They were both involved in your life in such an unusual way and they still managed to make you feel comfortable.

You'd never been so close to him, snuggled up against him and held in his strong arms. As close as you were to his body, you could smell him. A mix of cool and warm.

He carried the smoky but crisp scent of the night, the fresh but dark air, like the smell of a just-cut apple leaving its cool scent on the blade of the knife that has just sliced it. And all of this was strangely relieving.

Your eyes drifted to his neck, which was inevitable considering how close you were to it. Your gaze focused on his Adam's apple, ready to be covered by his perpetual stubble, letting your eyes slide up to his marked, strong jawline. You weren't in the habit of observing someone so closely, especially when that someone was handsome.

The journey across his face continued, passing from his full lips, to his nose bumped by the many blows he must have received in the face, to conclude this pleasant silent voyage with his eyes. Beneath a pair of stern eyebrows were two onyxes, shyly illuminated by the few street lamps on the deserted streets you were travelling through. You had seen them turn black like those of a shark that had smelled blood.

If you didn't know that look would never be meant for you, you'd be afraid of them.

You'd spent enough time with them in combat situations to know that their rage alone could bring a man down with a look. You hoped you'd never have to pay the price of it.

But this close, you didn't feel in danger, although the very idea that such dark eyes of vengeance and bitterness and death might pass over yours made you shudder.

“You’re staring, little one,” Frank remarked, his gaze never wavering from the path in front of him.

Too embarrassed by your own behaviour, you nestled your head on his shoulder, resting your forehead on it as your neck and cheeks heated up. You felt a little foolish as you felt your heart beating frantically between your ribs, and the very idea that Matt could undoubtedly hear it made you want to be swallowed up by a hole in the ground and disappear.

When were you going to get to that bloody flat where you would - hopefully - never again have to be so close to one of them without your thoughts getting carried away ?

Your wishes were granted, as you soon found yourselves standing in front of a door that Matt habitually opened, letting Frank go first as he pressed you closer to him to get through the doorway. With a single breath, his scent invaded you more and more until, for a few moments, your thoughts were focused on nothing but him.

The sudden closeness of him made you feel your cheek brush against the nape of his neck, cool in the night air, but enough for your own skin to heat up slightly.

Internally, you were slapping yourself in the face. Now was not the time to let yourself be bewitched by your colleagues, although the fact that you would be spending the night with them would intensify those thoughts.

Your reflections kept you prisoner enough that you didn't realise until you'd climbed the stairs that you were about to enter Matt's flat. No... their flat.

This reality dropped into your stomach like a heavy stone. They're together, so don't try or think anything that might disappoint you. Tonight... It's just business. It's just help they're giving you, that's all it is.

Perhaps it was a cruel lack of affection that made you repeat all this to yourself, but whatever the case, your inner monologue gradually died down as your attention was drawn to the inside of the place.

It was big, really big for a flat, and for a moment the idea of Matt and Frank being rich occurred to you. It wasn't until Frank moved further into the living room that your eyes fell almost painfully on the neon lighting that illuminated the whole room.

And the more you looked, the more the charm of the place intensified. Of course, the neon had to be a problem. And yes, the walls had faded wallpaper and cracked paint. And maybe the windows could have done with a bit of a wipe down.

But the cosy atmosphere the flat had was delightful. The warmth that greeted you as you entered was gentle and reassuring. You noticed that there was little smell in the flat, nothing too strong at least so far.

"On the sofa, she's already lost enough blood for the evening," Matt pointed out as he left for his kitchen.

Ah, right, Matt's senses, you almost forgot. The reason for the absence of perfume or overpowering scents in their flat was surely that it could prove abrasive on his olfactory sensitivity and generally on his senses.

Frank didn't hesitate for a moment, gently lowering you onto the leather sofa, which you felt sink under your back. The sudden change of position made you wince and whimper, the pain of your wounds hitherto camouflaged by your comfort in Frank's arms resurfacing to inflame your skin.

Frank watched you for a moment, frowning as he observed with serious eyes the dark stains that soaked through the various fabrics of your outfit. Without a word, he walked away, and a few seconds later Matt appeared in your field of vision, a bottle of amber liquid in his hand.

"We're going to need you to take off your top and trousers, do you think you can do that?"

The heat rose to your cheek, making you realise that with those wounds on your body, it was inevitable that you would end up naked if they wanted to do anything to help fix you.

You pressed your teeth into your lower lip, keeping it prisoner for a moment and grunting as the gesture made you reopen your little wound.

"I'll try," you croaked, trying to unclench the hand that had been glued to your side until now.

The bleeding seemed to have eased, the blood slightly caking to your hand as you pulled it free with an exhaled whimper. The sudden contact of air on your skin felt like an icy slap, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to calm yourself.

Your head tumbling back on the comfortable leather, you tried to get your hands to the sides of your T-shirt, pulling at the fabric. The material rubbed against your gaping wound, and you gritted your teeth as you breathed heavily.

Matt swallowed, clenching his jaw before kneeling in front of you.

"I can help you, if you don't mind," he offered, his hands coming to rest on your ankles as he began to remove your shoes.

Your reflex would usually have been to say no, your determination to achieve everything on your own without help from others blocking such opportunities. But the more you thought about it, the more the taste of resignation grew in your mouth.

At the rate you were going, getting undressed would take a considerable amount of time, time that Matt and Frank could probably have spent doing something more interesting than helping someone like you. So you gave in.

The blood from your split lip spilled back into your mouth, your tongue running over the cut and burning you. Wrinkling your nose in pain and breathing through your teeth, you nodded vigorously as you readjusted yourself on the sofa.

Matt sat up straight on his knees and faced you, his hands first feeling the leather of the sofa to find your thigh. He gently skimmed along the fabric, his hand brushing the wound on your thigh and making you grunt slightly.

"Sorry," he murmured softly. "The bleeding seems to have stopped," his confirmation letting his hand travel up to your waist.

His second joined in, avoiding the path of his twin again, and finding the sides of your top.

"Can you put your arms up for me?" he asked softly.

You swallowed, chewing the inside of your cheek as you took a deep breath. Then you did the seemingly impossible by lifting your arms. Your shoulders felt like they were made of lead, and your whole body seemed to be made of nothing but aches and pains.

When the fabric and movement rubbed against the wound on your arm, which you had barely raised, your hand instinctively came to press against it, letting a small, contorted whimper escape from your lips.

Matt let out a sigh, but he didn't seem exasperated or annoyed, more concerned or sharing your pain. Just then Frank came back into the living room, a first aid kit in hand as he came up beside you.

"We're going to have to cut your shirt off," Matt warned.

You sighed, feeling deeply incapable. When did taking off a shirt become so complicated? Every cut on your body was starting to burn severely, and you felt like throwing yourself into a lake of ice water to soothe the pain.

Frank pulled the scissors out of the kit, sitting down next to you and letting the sofa sink beneath him.

"We'll get you a new one," he promised as the cold kiss of the scissor blades touched your skin for a moment near the wound on your arm, bringing a short-lived respite.

Frank tugged at the fabric to pull it away from your skin, then after a few scissor strokes tore the material of your t-shirt as if it were paper with a sharp tear.

The cold skin of his fingers, still covered in the cool of the outside air, came to rest on your skin, and it was as if night met day, as the moon touched the sun with its fingertips, illuminating each of its craters and cuts.

Meanwhile, Matt unbuckled your belt gently, unbuttoning your trouser button at the same time and pulling on the fly until his fingers brushed the birth of...

"Sorry about the whisky but we didn't have anything else," he said apologetically as he took hold of the edges of your trousers.

"Aren't you guys sponsored by first aid kits at this point?" you asked through clenched teeth.

Waiting for Frank to move the scissors away from your skin, you raised your pelvis so that Matt could slide your trousers down more easily.

"There hasn't been any disinfectant in any of them since last night," he explained with a small smile.

The scene was strangely intimate, Frank's hot breath spreading across the back of your neck as he cut off your shirt, and Matt's hands sliding your trousers down your thighs.

You couldn't help but let out a grunt as the fabric of your pant leg brushed against the wound on your thigh, though Matt was doing his best not to cause you any discomfort, whispering small apologies as he did so.

You then realised the context of all this, and the heat rose to your cheeks when Frank threw the last shred of your old T-shirt somewhere in the background: you were in your underwear in front of them.

For a moment, their fingers on your body felt much less professional. The passage of their digits over your skin left behind a trail of sparkling powder underneath.

Placing a towel under your thigh, Matt indicated to Frank the bottle of alcohol which he uncorked.

"This might sting a bit," Matt advised just before Frank started pouring the cool liquid over the wound on your arm.

You stifled a muffled gasp, your thighs trembling slightly from the heat of your wounds. Matt's face scrunched up, his hands resting on your thighs in the hope of easing your pain or distracting you from the excruciating sensation you were going through. As for Frank, he didn't seem to give a damn, his face filled with his constant annoyed neutrality.

You had wondered several times whether Frank hated you, or whether it was difficult for him to stand you. Whatever the case, he didn't seem to have you in his heart. Maybe it was mistrust, but whatever the reason, he seemed irascible towards you.

He continued to pour the contents of the bottle quite generously onto your side, your eyelids closing so tightly that you felt you were seeing stars. You gritted your teeth so hard that for a moment they cut off your hearing, then released the tension.

"It's almost done," Matt murmured in the hope of encouraging you.

Frank ended up cleaning your trembling thigh. You brought your hand, closed into a fist, up to your mouth, biting the skin of one of your fingers to channel the pain.

Your head jerked back, breathing heavily as tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. The worst had undoubtedly just passed.

You heard them rummaging around in the kit, and as you straightened your head, you saw them pulling out needle and thread.

"No pain killers," you managed to say as your mouth felt almost pasty.

Frank chuckled, preparing the needle properly.

"Gotta get this done first, no painkillers for your princess ass now."

You let out a half-sigh, half-laugh.

"Silly me to assume you'd care." you mumbled, already feeling the discomfort from the alcohol on your gaping skin soften.

"It' all be over soon," Matt asserted, his thumb running over the skin of your thigh.

"And I who was looking forward to living in agony for the rest of my life,' you breathed.

Frank brought one of the armchairs closer to the sofa, needle in hand.

"Gon try and be gentle, softy." he added, the little nickname making you scoff.

"No, Frank, being gentle isn't your area of excellence. You shine mainly in murder and mutilation."

He raised his eyes to yours, still red and wet from your previous pain and reflecting the famous 'gentleness' he had shown in his actions. He frowned, but this gesture was unexpectedly accompanied by a smile mixing surprise and amusement, stretching his face in a way you'd never seen from him before.

He brought the needle up to your thigh, grasping the skin with his large hand as firmly as gently. He pierced it, making you wince at the sensation.

"Just gonna pretend I didn't hear that," he finally said, his concentration seemingly unwavering.

But the simple idea of saying this when this same man was stitching you up at the moment only enchanted you for a short moment. He had a needle in his hand that he could very well stick anywhere but in the wound that needed to be closed. And although it was an immensely small needle, you were well aware that anything can become a deadly weapon if you have the will to use it.

So you said nothing, letting that little irritation fade away as you let yourself be stitched up. The pain was bearable in the end, nothing too horrible. It was better than going home and cauterising the whole thing with your straightening iron.

Now that the pain was more bearable, your attention eventually drifted to something other than that feeling, and more to the rest. The feel of their fingers on your body brought a whole new sensory experience, causing a warm cloud to settle in your belly.

Matt straightened up, your thigh already missing the presence of his hand on it. He sat down beside you, his fingers brushing your arm without injury.

"Your lip's cut," he remarked.

"It's not the worst thing on the menu," you laughed nervously, immediately regretting your gesture as your smile stretched your lip and reopened it again.

He fumbled for the kit, taking a cotton ball and grabbing the bottle to soak it in.

"Here," he said, his hand coming to take your chin tenderly and turning it towards him.

He pressed the wet cotton to your wound, and you hissed as your nose wrinkled in pain.

"It might sting a bit when you drink," he murmured.

The proximity gripped your heart, Matt's face close enough to yours that you felt his breath hit your skin gently and evenly. You tried to calm your racing heart in your chest, swallowing as you let him finish disinfecting your lip.

You took the opportunity to watch him more closely, to see the way his stubble ran gracefully across his jaw, the way his brown eyes watching the empty space were full of softness, the way his lips, which you were used to seeing outside the mask, were full and pink.

He seemed incredibly gentle, and if you didn't spend some nights a week in his company fighting crime, you'd never have bet he was fighting like the devil himself: unleashed, full of rage, the taste of revenge and the desire for a better balance blinding him beyond measure.

"You'll take our bed," Matt said, Frank just finishing stitching up your thigh.

You immediately frowned, your lips parting.

"Since I'm on the couch I might just stay on it," you laughed nervously as Frank moved to the wound on your waist.

His hand grabbed your hip and pulled you to the edge of the sofa, looking up at you:

"Sit straight and still," he says in a tone calm but firm enough to convince you that he wouldn't repeat that command twice.

You straighten up slightly, letting him come and stitch up the wound in your side.

"Of the three of us, you're clearly the one who needs comfort and rest the most, not us," Matt continued, placing the now useless cotton wool on the table.

"I can assure you that I've rarely been on a sofa as comfortable as this one," you added.

You'd invite yourself into their home unannounced, they'd take care of you, and on top of that they'd make you sleep in their bed while they slept elsewhere?

"Do we really have to drag you there?" asked Frank, tugging at the thread.

"And let me squirm and ruin all your previous efforts on my wounds?" you huffed as you looked into his eyes, a muscle near your eye twitching as Frank continued his work. "I'd ruin your sheets, that's really not necessary."

"Listen-" Matt started, but you stopped him.

"No," you assured him, turning to him, "and anyway I can already feel sleep stalking me."

Frank breathed in as he opened his lips to speak and contradict you again, but you stopped him.

"Really," you assured him, "I'll take the sofa."

Frank bit his cheek in irritation, obviously not so happy to know that someone in this town shared being so stubborn. He turned to Matt, who also didn't seem to be enjoying the situation any more than that.

"Alright, but there's no way I'm going to hear you complain as soon as you wake up, is that clear?" finished Frank as he tied the thread over the cut in your abdomen.

"Scout's honour," you sighed.

As Frank started your last cut, Matt got up and went to the kitchen to get a glass. He filled it with water, while you and Frank seemed to be engaged in a stare-down between two obstinate, stubborn people.

"Thanks Matty," you thanked sincerely, taking the two delicious items in your hand.

He seemed surprised by the nickname, a nervous chuckle forming a smile on his lips.

"I'll grab you some clothes," he replied as he left for their shared room and began the process of changing his costume.

You placed the tablet on your tongue, then brought the glass to your lips. As promised, it stung. A cloud of red diluted on the contact with your lips, and as you observed it you wondered how you would justify it to your boss.

You sighed, reminding yourself that you should email them first thing in the morning to let them know you were absent. All you had to do the next day was explain that you'd been attacked in the street for stealing your bag, but you'd managed to get away, and that in a state of shock you didn't feel like coming to work the next day. This would probably do.

Frank finished stitching you up fairly quickly, and when he cut the last thread he still looked at you with that annoyed look he never seemed to shake off.

"Thank you, Frankie" you thanked, using the nickname in a more playful tone than you had with Matt.

He let out a single sharp breath from his lungs before getting up and leaving in his turn for the bedroom, from which Matt emerged in much more... normal clothes.

It was the first time you'd seen him in civilian attire, in a simple hoodie and jogging bottoms. Your eyes went wide, your mouth half-open for a moment, and you had to blink several times to pull yourself together.

"Here," he said, placing the pile of clothes next to you on the sofa. "Do you think you can stand this time?"

Now that the adrenaline had worn off, and everything else didn't burn as much as if hell itself had invited itself under your skin, you tried to stand up. You wanted to avoid any sudden movements, but eventually, with a bit of effort, you managed to straighten up and start pushing on your legs to get up.

Your knees trembled slightly from the stress and everything else that had gone with it during the night, and just as you thought you'd be sprawled out on the floor in the next few seconds, tasting the parquet floor, Matt grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him.

"Hey, take it easy little fawn, we don't need you damaging your nose on top of everything else," he laughed as he steadied you, letting your legs wobble a little more before you felt comfortable enough to stand.

Your whole body hurt like hell. And no wonder: in addition to your various cuts from the evening, your body was dotted with clouds of bruises that would make all the blueberries jealous of their colour.

"Let me help you," he finally smiled gently as he picked up the T-shirt from the pile.

He helped you into the top, taking care not to let the fabric come into contact with your freshly stitched skin.

"I'll need to borrow one of your shirts tomorrow when I leave," you said with a small smile, "mine's had a bit of a problem."

Matt laughed softly as he poked his head into your top. " May it rest in pieces."

You laughed softly at his little joke, slipping the rest on and feeling his hands roam over your covered skin, the size of the t-shirt far too big for you and reaching the top of your thighs.

Matt lowered himself to his knees in front of you, and you looked down at him as he rolled up the sweatpants so he could slip them around your ankle, guiding your hand over his shoulder so you could find some support.

The vision was heady, taking hold of your heart like an intoxicating scent you want to chase down so you can bury your whole face in it and never leave. You wanted to run your fingers through his hair, to let them get lost in its meanders, to let your nails graze his skull before tugging lightly on it...

But you pulled yourself together, the thought once again creating a warm cloud in your lower belly as he straightened up and pulled the fabric up your legs, his fingers brushing your skin as if you were a statue forbidden to be touched.

"You're gonna have to see that with Frank though," he said as he tied the two laces around your waist, "it's his shirt."

That's how the same smell you'd first smelled when you were in his arms came back to mind, but you remained stoic, preventing yourself from grabbing the collar of the shirt and bringing it up to your nose.

"Challenge of the year," you sighed, smiling though, "thank you. For all of this."

"That's normal, it would be a shame if our partner found herself unable to exercise," he reassured you.

The word sent a shiver up your spine and into your cheeks.

"Red?" called Frank from the bedroom.

"Coming," he answered over his shoulder before turning away from you.

You sat back down on the sofa, tiredness beginning to weigh heavily on your eyelids. You lay down, the multiple events of the evening knocking you out more easily than any sleeping pill.

You had no trouble falling asleep, even with the neon lights on, even without a blanket, and even when the two of them came back into the room.

When you woke up, your back felt like it was sinking into a cloud. The surface you were lying on was soft, and when you turned on your side, your hand came to rest on a material that was not at all like the leather of the sofa: silk.

You propped yourself up gently on one elbow, observing the place you were in, and that's when you realised: they'd moved you into their bed while you were asleep.

"Bastards," you muttered, and bit your cheek to stop the little smile forming on your lips from breaking out.

A funny feeling sprang up in your heart, making it light and rosy. But that feeling quickly faded as you sat up straighter and your whole body ached. You felt like you'd just come out of a washing machine, all tossed and turned.

You stood up, trying to stretch but stopping immediately when the pain from your stitched-up cuts threatened to reopen. You didn't want to mess up their clothes, you'd probably never forgive yourself if that happened.

You came out of the bedroom and found Frank and Matt talking in the kitchen. Matt turned to you, sending you a smile.

"Good morning," he offered.

You were limping lightly, and bent slightly, walking slowly towards them through fatigue and pain.

"At last the groundhog graces us with her presence," Frank grumbled, turning to you.

"Am I rather not a sleeping beauty ?" you returned with a smile, "I wonder if sleeping beaty had a breakfast date when she woke up. I mean, look at me this is such a tempting offer," you said as your posture could easily have been a cross between an old lady and a pregnant woman, leaning on your hip, alternating between the curve of your back and the arch of it, making your whole body crack into a grimace of relief.

But surprisingly, they both smiled at your joke, and the awkward silence you might have expected or the abrupt change of subject to move on never came. But that didn't stop you from apologising on the spot.

"I'm sorry, I don't want my words to sound inappropriate, but I know that you two... well, you're..." together was the word you were looking for, but your fingers pinched the bridge of your nose.

Try again, you thought. You'll end up rowing champion if you keep paddling like that. But Matt immediately reassured you.

"There's nothing to worry about, and besides, on my side you have to be forgiving when you don't have the 'pause' button."

Right, you thought, even though the heat was rising to your cheeks and neck enough for your cool hand to come and rest on it, massaging it nervously.

"I find you singularly witty, Red," Frank said, arms folded across his chest.

Of course, there was nothing new under the sun about Frank. His sharp tone brought you back to solid ground in no time.

"How are the wounds?" he asked as he turned to you, his eyes lingering for a moment on the fact that you were wearing his shirt.

"Very well," you assured him as you lifted the sides of your shirt to show the one on your side and the one on your arm, turning back to him, "I think the blue really brings out my eyes, don't you?"

He smirked, and you couldn't quite work out whether it was genuine annoyance or amusement. It all seemed a bit too perfect, and that's when it hit you.

"Fuck!" you exclaimed, looking for where they'd put your trousers where your phone was.

"What is it?" asked Matt.

"My boss," you said, searching the hallway and finding your trousers there, "I didn't tell him-"

"We called him this morning," pointed out Frank.

You stopped in your tracks, turning back to them.

"You what ?" you questioned.

"We called him," Matt informed, "we told him that we were close to you and that after you were mugged last night in the street you decided to stay home for the day out of shock."

"You-"

"It's all sorted, you don't need to worry," Frank grunted, taking his drink in hand, surely in search for you to shut up and let him enjoy his morning cup of coffee.

You stood there like a houseplant in the middle of the living room, and Matt invited you to take a seat for breakfast. Bemused, you took a seat and the three of you ate and chatted for a while.

Matt mentioned taking you to see a guy he knew so that he could cover you up with something other than such a simplistic and obviously flimsy outfit that could put you in danger again.

And after breakfast, you left at the same time as Matt, who was leaving for work. You said your final goodbyes and went your separate ways.

Little did you know the proximity of last night would change many things.

⟢ next part : here

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chvoswxtch · 10 months

Text

forgiveness

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader x frank castle

summary: matt decides frank needs an attitude adjustment and uses you as a demonstration.

warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

a/n: this came directly from my other head, if ya know what I mean (all puns intended).

word count: 2k

[part one: jealousy][part three: revenge]

Matt could hear what Frank was doing to you from three blocks away. He had one of your thighs draped over his as you both sat on the couch, your hands bound behind your back with his favorite leather belt while his thick fingers strummed lazily through your folds like he was playing his favorite song.

Not even the blaring siren from the fire truck racing down the street to his right could combat the sound of your breathless and desperate whines of Frank’s name for mercy. Jealousy still singed along Matt’s nerves, but irritation and frustration polluted his bloodstream as Frank’s previous taunt echoed between his ears.

Hurry your ass up. Clock’s tickin’.

Frank appeared to have gotten too complacent over the past few months, taking advantage of Matt’s thinly veiled patience and sanctioned forgiveness. He had also gotten too comfortable, thinking because he laid with the Devil that meant he was safe from the hellfire.

Frank was due for a fucking attitude adjustment.

As Matt burst through the front door, both yours and Frank’s heads whipped around in that direction, surprised by his sudden and bold entry. The dark look on Matt’s face made you shudder, and Frank’s fingers paused momentarily, hovering over your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Well, ‘bout time you showed up, Red. Thought I said-”

In a flash, Matt had crossed the threshold in record time, and he was suddenly towering over Frank, his hand darting out to grab him by his throat. Matt’s fingers coiled tightly around Frank’s neck, squeezing hard enough that Frank’s eyes flew open in shock and he swiftly retracted his hand from between your thighs completely to grip onto Matt’s wrist. Matt tossed his glasses carelessly onto the coffee table behind him so that Frank could see the feral look in his hazel eyes that were a storm of lust and anger. He leaned in so that their noses were only a millimeter apart, the corner of his lip curled up into a menacing snarl as he bared his dazzling teeth.

“I don’t give a fuck what you said. You seem to have forgotten how to not be such an asshole, Castle. She stays home to take care of you, and you’re being a fucking tease. I call to check in, and you start playing with her pussy, knowing I can hear it over the phone. You seem to have come home with a fucking attitude, and we’re gonna fix that right now.”

Matt’s words caused an involuntary moan to slip past your lips, and if that hadn’t caught his attention, the fresh flow of arousal that seeped into the couch cushion beneath you certainly did. Matt let out a low growl in his chest that had your cunt fluttering and Frank’s hands clenching into tight fists.

Frank’s arrogant mistake was thinking that Matt only let the Devil out behind the guise of his horns on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. But it took one night of relentless teasing for him to learn that the Devil and the man were one in the same. After experiencing just how unmerciful and vengeful Matt could truly be, Frank hadn’t made that error again.

Until now.

Matt roughly let go of Frank’s throat, his burning blank stare still fixated directly on his face.

“Don’t move. Don’t touch yourself. Don’t speak.”

Frank’s lips instantly parted to protest, a deep furrow nestling between his thick brows, but another hardened glare from Matt coupled by his head tilting to the side in challenge had him grunting in response. Satisfied with Frank’s obedience, Matt turned his attention to you, his gaze softer as he knelt down in front of you, reaching behind you to free your hands from the confinements of Frank’s belt.

“Are you gonna behave for me, sweetheart?”

Matt’s breath was warm against your neck, and the feeling of his coarse facial hair brushing against your sensitive skin made you shiver.

“Yes, Matty.”

You could feel his devilish grin stretching across his lips as he pressed them against the juncture above your collarbone, delicately sinking his teeth into your skin as he inhaled your scent deeply and hummed lowly in his throat.

“That’s my girl. Let me take care of you, angel.”

Matt wasted no time burying his head between your thighs. He brought your legs up and over his broad shoulders, his hands gripping onto your hips to pull your cunt closer to his greedy lips, and he moved his tongue against your clit in a way that had you writhing uncontrollably. He didn’t bother holding your hips down and let you tangle your fingers in his hair to guide him wherever you wanted. In complete contrast to how he had treated Frank just mere minutes ago, Matt let you use him how you pleased, getting as much pleasure from it as he was giving you.

He could feel Frank’s eyes locked on his movements, hardly even blinking so that he didn’t miss a single second of Matt devouring your pussy like a man starved. He could almost taste the saliva building up in Frank’s mouth, knowing it was watering at the thought of your taste. The sound of Frank’s calloused fingertips brushing along the rough denim of his jeans towards the mountain that had formed in his lap caught Matt’s attention quickly. Matt quickly reached for Frank’s belt and snapped the leather harshly against the back of Frank’s hand to halt his movements, and a low growl laced with warning tear tore through his chest. The vibration of it directly against your clit nearly made you combust right then and there.

Before you could reach your peak, Matt removed his lips from your swollen clit, shushing you gently with his index finger against your lips as you immediately began to whine in protest. He rose up slowly from his knees and took a seat on the couch right next to Frank. He made a show of languidly unbuckling his belt, carefully tugging down his zipper, and lazily pulled out his aching cock while you and Frank watched with bated breath.

Matt held his open palm out in front of Frank’s face and tilted his head in his direction slightly.

“Spit.”

The low and commanding tone of his voice went straight to your core, and it must have had the same effect on Frank, because he didn’t hesitate to do exactly what Matt asked. Matt collected the arousal leaking from his slit and used that in combination with Frank’s saliva to lubricate his cock as he wrapped his hand around his base and gave himself a few gentle strokes.

His lips parted into a cocky grin hearing the way you and Frank both groaned in unison at the sight.

Matt patted his thick thigh as he motioned towards you with his chin.

“Come here, baby. Come sit.”

He didn’t wait for your frazzled brain to catch up with his command. He grabbed you by your hips and pulled you onto his lap, spreading your legs wide open with your thighs draped over his own so that your knees were on the outsides of his. Matt wrapped his arm tightly around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest.

“On your knees, Castle.”

“Red-”

“On. Your. Knees.”

The low growl that accompanied his words had your cunt clenching around nothing, and Frank let out a disgruntled noise before he stood up from the couch, only to lower himself onto his knees in front of you and Matt. You felt a pang of sympathy in your chest for Frank, seeing the look of absolute agony in his deep brown eyes. As you reached out towards him, Matt quickly gripped onto your wrist, his deep voice dripping into your ear laced with warning.

“No. This is his punishment.”

“C’mon, Red. Was only messin’ earlier. Wasn’t actually bein’ mean to her, or you.”

“I don’t remember giving you permission to speak, Castle. Give me your hands.”

Frank clenched his jaw tightly as he stared over your shoulder at Matt, his face a twisted up concoction of frustration and distress. Wordlessly, he offered his hands up and watched as Matt bound his wrists together tightly with his own belt that he had used to bind you.

Desperation was not something you could usually detect in Frank Castle’s voice, but it was pouring from his words, and you could see the despair glimmering in his big brown eyes. Matt seemed to ignore his defense, reaching between your thighs to grab his cock and slip it through your soaked folds, letting out a quiet hiss in your ear as your welcoming heat enveloped him. Your head fell back against his chest at the delectable intrusion, and Matt’s voice was hoarse by the time his cock was fully nestled inside you.

“You know the rules, Castle. Teasing sluts don’t get rewarded for their bad behavior. Only good boys get rewarded. Isn’t that right, sweetheart? You get treated nice when you’re a good girl, don’t you?”

Matt had you completely at his mercy, his hands firmly gripped onto your hips, lazily moving his hips upwards as he fucked you slowly and purposefully. He had his chin resting on your shoulder, his nose nuzzled against your neck, pressing warm, open-mouthed kiss to your sensitive skin. The way his cock was dragging against your walls had already caused your brain to short circuit, and you couldn’t hardly focus on his words.

“Yes, Matty…”

Matt could feel Frank’s eyes watching the way his thick cock split you open, disappearing inside you over and over and over. He could hear the thunder booming in his ribcage, feel the heat that layered over his skin, and the way his index and middle finger twitched on his right hand, as if he were pulling an invisible trigger. Matt could also feel the way his massive cock strained against the front of his jeans, and he was almost shocked it hadn’t busted through the zipper at this point. He let out a low groan as the taste of Frank’s arousal weeping from his aching tip nestled in the air.

Matt’s teeth grazed along your neck, lightly nipping at your heated skin while digging his blunt nails into the flesh of your hips, his voice lowering to a dangerous octave in your ear.

“Tell him how it feels, baby.”

“Feels so good, Matty..”

The low whimper coated with anguish Matt’s ears caught from Frank cracked his stubborn resolve. Matt enjoyed teasing Frank, but he never wanted to torture him. He just wanted to get his message across.

Matt could never stay mad at Frank.

“Think we should let him earn his forgiveness, hm? Think he deserves that, angel?”

“Yes…he’ll be good…be so good, Matty.”

Matt reached his hand out in front of him, and Frank immediately sought out his touch, nestling his face into Matt’s palm.

“What do you think, Frank?”

“Lemme make it up to ya, Red. To both of ya.”

Matt couldn’t help but grin devilishly hearing the lust melting from Frank’s pleading voice. His craving was palpable, and it made Matt feel a surge of power. No one knew how to bring the Punisher to his knees like him except for you.

He dragged the pad of his thumb along Frank’s plump bottom lip gently before roughly gripping onto the back of his neck to drag his face towards your cunt.

“Well go on, then. Earn your forgiveness.”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @desert-fern @day-dreaming-goddess @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 14 days

Text

taking what's not yours - f. castle & m. murdock

a/n: ALRIGHT ITS FINALLY DONE uhhh sorry this has no smut i was just goofing and wanted to write something cute with our two favorites and you guys seemed to really want this one so! i have no regrets actually! im gonna go take a nap now warnings: polyamorous relationships, frank has nightmares, reader is autistic, reader has an oral fixation/biting problem, nosebleeds/blood, crying, cursing, lots of cute nicknames, talks of death, some sexual comments, lots of kissing and fluff word count: 3.2k comments and feedback are always appreciated <3 summary: a week in the life of a relationship with frank castle and matt murdock, your two favorite vigilantes. pairing: frank castle x autistic!gn!reader x matt murdock now playing: taking what's not yours - tv girl "you know where to find me/and i know where to look"

Soft country music from before country music as a genre went modern and became what it is today plays from the radio Frank insists on keeping on while he cooks dinner. His flannel is tight around his chest and the sleeves are rolled up as he brings a spoon to his mouth, tasting the sauce he’s been preparing for the past few hours. He adds more pepper.

The door opens from across the apartment, and all he hears is, “Frank! Tell Matt to stop being mean to me!” You and Matt make your way through the apartment after taking off your shoes and coats, Matt loosening his tie as he follows you into the kitchen. Frank turns when you step into the kitchen, immediately moving over to him and finding your place in the crook of his arm.

“Red bein’ mean to you, honey?” Frank asks as he kisses the top of your head, grinning at Matt as he huffs, standing with his hands on his hips.

“Yeah, it doesn’t matter if it’s handsome if he’s so mean, does it?” You ask.

“No, it doesn’t,” He grins, and you stick your tongue out to Matt playfully, and he mimics you before going over to Frank and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Hi.” The lawyer hums, happy to be back home with his two favorite people.

“Hi.” Frank grins, unsure of how serious you are about Matt being mean to him. “What’s going on, why are you being mean?” Matt raises an eyebrow at you, unhappy with your running to Frank.

“Can’t just run to daddy to fix your problems, pup.” He accuses, and you scoff. His words are playful, but your face is red at the call out.

“You know what, Murdock—”

“Hey! Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Frank cuts in, and Matt tilts his head in your direction, and you quietly plead for Matt not to tell on you, and--

“They bit me.” Frank sighs at his words.

“I was being affectionate!” You immediately go into defense mode, ducking out of Frank’s arm, trying to casually walk off from the pair towards the fridge, only for Matt to grab your arm, pulling you between the two men, your back against Frank’s chest, face to face with Matt.

“You cannot bite people, pup.” Matt says, and you frown.

“I like biting people—”

“That’s a problem!” Frank’s words attempt to be serious, but they’re coated by a soft laugh as his hands, rough from a long day of working blue collar, rub up and down your arms.

“See? You’re getting Frank to agree with me, do you know how hard that is to do?” Matt hums, and you tilt your head.

“What? You love Frank, it’s actually kind of gross—”

“It is gross isn’t it?” Matt asks teasingly, leaning up to kiss Frank again. You roll your eyes at the fact that you’re being reprimanded by your boyfriends, sandwiched between them, forced to deal with the consequences of your actions. “But I’m being serious, okay?”

“Matty,” Your head leans back against Frank’s chest, “I don’t bite anyone who isn’t you or Frank..”

Alright, let’s level with each other—Frank and Matt are well aware of the fact that you’re neurodivergent. You get overstimulated with loud, crowded situations very easily, you struggle to understand jokes a lot, and you once told them that in middle school, you became so hyper fixated on waffles to the point where you ate them for breakfast and lunch most days, practically begging your mom to let you have it for dinner most nights (She let you have them once a month) and then, after fourteenth months, you stopped. You have not been able to eat a waffle since.

The point is the two men you’re sandwiched between are no strangers to your neurodivergence. They know it’s stimulating in the best way to chew or suck on something, your oral fixation coming back with a vengeance after you tried to repress it for so long. You chew on everything. You chew on the strands of your hoodies, you chew on your sleeves, you chew on ice, gum, you chew on your boyfriends, and you chew on your cheeks to the point where you draw blood, which always gets Matt to scold you, because he can smell the coppery blood from his place across the room, and immediately tells Frank.

Matt Murdock is a little tattletale.

“We’ll figure it out, okay?” Frank hums, resting his chin on your shoulder. “We’ll get you something to chew on—”

“What, like a chew toy? That’s embarrassing,” you groan, and Matt just laughs a bit, leaning in to oppress a kiss to the shoulder that Frank is not leaning on.

“Then stop biting, pup.”

You pause, contemplating the options you have. Fix your biting issue or have Matt and Frank fix it for you. Honestly, you don’t think you have the neurotypical willpower to fix this problem, so you go,

“Okay, fine. You guys have my permission to do what you want to fix it.” You huff. Frank presses a kiss to your cheek while Matt presses a kiss to the other. You feel the smirks against your skin, and you realize what’s happening before you can run, “Wait, no, I swear to god—” Matt picks up your legs with ease as Frank secures his arms around your torso, the pair beginning to carry you to the couch. You groan as they throw you onto the leather couch, landing with a huff. “You’re both awful.”

Matt leans down and bites your shoulder.

“Doesn’t feel good, does it?”

“Jokes on you, Daredevil, I’m into that—” You feel Frank sink his teeth into your arm.

“Wrong answer.” Matt responds for him.

Later that night, after dinner, you’re laying against Matt, your legs resting in Frank’s lap. You’re listening to music, and the environment is very relaxed, none of you are particularly on edge. Matt’s fingers are resting in your mouth. You relax like this a lot, just sucking his fingers gently. You’re absentmindedly just sucking on his fingers when you bite down on them—It’s not an accident, and Matt would call you out on it if you lied.

So when you bite down, not entirely consciously, he huffs, “With the biting, baby, come on,” he softly condemns, and remembering your deal, Frank gets up with a sigh, patting your leg before he got up and headed to the kitchen. You’re confused for a second before Matt’s nose twitches with recognition, so he grabs your shoulder and pulls you close, his hand finding your cheeks and squeezing your mouth so that it’s in an ‘o’ shape.

Frank approaches you with a spoon and a jar of peanut butter, and your eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, and the rest of your features are squished by Matt’s hands. Frank scoops a big wad of peanut butter onto the spoon before sticking it in your mouth. You’re confused, as Matt’s hand leaves your face, as you begin munching on the peanut butter.

You take a while to eat the peanut butter, quietly enjoying the taste while enjoying how long you’re keeping yourself busy, since it’s taking a long time to work down the peanut butter due to how sticky it is in the roof of your mouth. When you’re done licking and enjoying the taste of the peanut butter, you look to Frank.

“What was that for?”

“Well, it kept you busy from biting, didn’t it?” He grinned. Your face is flushed as you hand him the spoon.

“Can I have some more?”

Frank chuckles and kisses you quick.

“Sure, honey.”

A few nights later, Frank sits on the couch of the apartment, the windows open wide as he listens to the howling wind outside. He’s waiting. Waiting for what, he doesn’t know. His skin is still hot, trying to relax after waking up from a nightmare. It’s always the same. Maria and his children, always dying in his arms. Always sitting at the kitchen table, always with you and Matt, always dead.

The chill that comes in from the window is enough to make him feel alive through as he quietly waits for Matt to get back. He’s in an old tee shirt and sweatpants, flicking his lighter on and off in the quiet as he tries to focus on something that isn’t the idea of the pair of you dead, dead like his wife, dead like his kids, dead dead dead—

“Frank? What are you doing up?” Matt’s soft voice echoes through the apartment, and his head tilts softly. He goes over to the couch, still in his full Daredevil suit. Frank stands up and goes over to him by the window, pulling off his cowl just to look at his face. His hand lands gently on Matt’s face, his thumb rubbing gently on the scars that surround Matt’s eyes.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Matt catches the lie and does not call him out.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Frank’s jaw hardens, and even though Matt cannot see, he avoids his gaze. And in a moment of pure vulnerability, he wraps his arms around Matt, holding him close. Matt’s hand gently runs up and down his spine, trying to comfort him. After a few moments of quiet, he asks, “Do you want me to wake them up?” You were always better at making people feel better than Matt was—Especially Frank.

“Nah.. No point..” He says quietly. After a few more minutes of quiet, he feels another pair of arms wrap around him from behind, your chest against his back. You press soft kisses onto the back of his shoulders.

“Too late.” Matt hums. You’re wearing an old tee shirt of Frank’s, a pair of boxers you bought for yourself and a pair of Matt’s fuzzy socks. You stay there for a little while, sleepily hugging Frank, comforting him. Your eyes grow heavy, and slowly, you fall asleep against him, just for a moment. Then, Frank picks you up, and you wake up again, tired.

“What? What’s going on?” You ask him, and he just smiles down to you.

“We’re gonna go to bed while Red showers, and he’ll be right back.” He tells you, gently placing you on the bed. You yawn as Frank crawls into bed, and you find yourself on top of him, your legs tangled with his. You listen to Matt shower and fall asleep waiting for him to come join you.

He comes back out with his hair wet, in just his sweatpants. He tucks himself into bed, his arms around Frank, as you sprawl out on top of them, desperately needing to be close to both. Frank is nowhere near tired. Matt knows that, and just gently kisses his hair and the back of his neck.

“You need sleep.”

“You ain’t the boss of me, red.” He grumbles, and you hush them harshly, causing them to both laugh a little bit. Matt slowly falls asleep, trying to stay awake to comfort Frank, but he’s spent his entire night beating the shit out of goons and criminals, so he’s absolutely spent. Frank tilts his head and presses another kiss to his lips. “Go to bed, I’ll be okay.” Matt wants to protest but he just buries his face in the crook of his neck.

Frank’s hands gently trail your torso a bit. His hands are rough and sort of cold, but they just explore your back as he attempts to find sleep. It’s a fruitless venture, but he doesn’t mind. He’s okay with just listening to the pair of you breathing.

“Are you two wearing my flannels?” Frank has about seven flannels, and he has four in the wash and one that has a tear waiting to be fixed, so he’s looking for his spare two when he finds you painting Matt’s nails on the floor of the apartment. You’re painting Matt’s nails a nice shade of dark red, with little hearts in a lighter pink.

That had taken a lot of convincing, really, but once you had agreed not to bite him all day, he reluctantly agrees to let you paint his nails, desperately wanting to be good at something and be focused on one thing for more than twenty minutes.

Periodically, Matt’s foot will tap against your back, reminding you to adjust your posture as you work on your masterpiece. He just got done with a big court case, so he tells you he’ll maintain your artwork for at least a few days. But yeah, you two are most definitely wearing Frank’s last two flannels.

“They’re comfy,” You defend, focusing on your work. Matt’s foot taps against your tailbone to remind you to straighten your back.

Really, Frank doesn’t mind. But he enjoys fucking with the two of you, so he just smirks and sits behind the pair of you. ‘

“But they’re my clothes—”

“Well, you should have thought about that before you left them out, Frank.” Matt smirks, knowing exactly what he’s up to.

“Besides, look how good Matt looks in your clothes!” You hum, leaning over to nudge him gently, a grin on your face. You finish up Matt’s nails, capping up the nail polish as Matt begins gently blowing in his nails to get them to dry faster. Then, you wipe your nose, thinking it’s running, and when you pull away, you see a swipe of blood on Frank’s warm flannel. Oh, fuck.

With his slightly wet nails, Matt’s movements are not nearly as quick as he would have liked as he smells the blood before the gushing really starts, ripping off a paper towel and quickly holding it under your nose, and you take it from him to hold it there as he stands up, going to get something softer like a tissue or toilet paper to pack your nose—

You hold the paper towel to your nose, and guilt already starts to eat at you, as hot tears fill your eyes and then you feel silly because you think Frank might think you’re overreacting, but you just find his hands on your shoulders as he says,

“Hey, hey, why are we crying?” And you feel even sillier.

“I ruined your flannel.”

Frank had been covered in blood more times than he could count, as has Matt—their bodies are riddled with scars, head to toe, bullet and stab wounds echoing over the rough skin of both men, mostly faded now, but Frank is no stranger to blood—It doesn’t even bother him anymore, and Matt can’t see anyways, so what does he care about the sight of blood?

But you, who cannot kill the bugs that find their ways into your apartment, who gasps and covers their mouth when you accidentally curse in church (Matt always laughs, the dick), who orders the same lunch every day and has been unable to drink anything that wasn’t ice water, are horrified at a swipe of blood on a stolen flannel.

“Oh, no, honey, you didn’t ruin anything,” He shakes his head, and gently tugs at the flannel that hangs on your arms, “Come on, let me get this off,” The Punisher’s voice is gentle, a type of gentle reserved just for you, one that the countless skeletons in his closet, all with a bullet in their skulls, do not know and could not possibly perceive. You allow him to slip the flannel off, as Matt comes back with a rolled-up tissue, before sitting in front of you, kneeling as if he’s at mass—

“Lean your head forward for me,” he asks, his hand on the side of your head, and you do, taking the paper towel away, just for Matt to gently push that bundled up piece of tissue into your nose, to get it to stop bleeding.

Your boys, they are experts at getting things to stop bleeding.

At least Matt’s nails look really nice.

Frank throws the flannel in the wash, along with the rest of your laundry, and you find yourself sandwiched between them, the perfect amount of squeezing happening on either side of you, the same affect a weighted blanket would have on you. Your hot tears roll still, quietly betraying you, as the pads of Frank’s rough fingers come up to wipe them away, and Matt’s thumb finds it’s place sitting between your lips.

You sit like this for a while—Frank pressed up against you, Matt in his flannel and you, gushing blood from your nose, packed tight with tissues, and Matt’s thumb as your favorite stim toy.

A few days later, you’re just decompressing from work—Your bones ache, and you’re waiting for Matt to get home, wanting to satisfy that oral fixation, as if it’s the worst craving you’ve ever had. Sensing your restlessness, Frank puts a small package in front of you. You raise your eyebrow, and look at him, skeptical.

“Is it a bomb?” He scoffs and chuckles a bit.

“Open the damn package.” His voice is laced with the smirk that sits on his face, not mad, not upset, not at all judging. Your fingers peel back the packaging, and when you’re done unwrapping, you’re left with a soft necklace, and a blue, rubber moon. You look to him curiously. “It’s uh,” he leans down so his forearms are keeping him up against the counter. “You chew on it. You’re not gonna stop bitin’ or sucking on stuff, so, you might as well bite something that isn’t human.” He tells you.

In truth, Frank had spent all damn day scrolling on your laptop, looking for the perfect fix to your problem, and grew frustrated when he realized that all the stim toys were marketed towards young boys who had the privilege of getting a diagnosis young (living with and loving two people with disabilities, as well as having horrible PTSD, has radicalized Frank Castle).

You grin when you hear his explanation, getting up and going to him, resting your hands on his shoulders before leaning up and kissing him softly.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, Honey.”

From across the apartment, you hear the door open, and a voice calls out,

“Are you guys cheating on me? You know I can hear you across the apartment, right?” Matt’s voice calls out, and you laugh, as Frank just smiles.

“Yes, I can, Red,” He says back, before leaning in to kiss you again.

Your eyes are heavy with sleep as you spot Matt, laying across the couch, looking like a god damn renaissance painting. He’s so hot. You find yourself walking over to him, dropping your new necklace on the coffee table, as you climb on top of him, finding yourself literally acting like a blanket, burying your face in his neck as his hand comes up to, like usual, let you gently suck on his fingers.

Frank rolls his eyes when he sees the pair of you cuddling, and just shakes his head when he sees the stim toy abandoned on the table. He takes out his phone and takes a picture of the pair of you, Matt just in his briefs, and you in your entire pajama ensemble.

The apartment is full of a gentle silence, as Frank watches the pair of you sleep, quietly thankful that he kept living.

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twilightbarnes · 1 year

Text

Obsessed with the idea of being poly with Dom! Frank and Matt…

18+, NSFW thoughts ahead…

Matt is the mean!dom. The devil really comes out. He edges you, spanks your cunt and your ass just hard enough to really make it sting. He ties you up and overstimulates you, bringing you on the brink of saying your safe word. He never hesitates to punish you when you’re being a brat, begging doesn’t work like it does on frank. Hell, sometimes he punishes you when you’re not even being bad, he does it just to piss Frank off. “I know you want to come but you don’t get to do that when you’re a bad girl, do you? Don’t be so desperate.”

Frank is the soft!dom!! He’s full of praises, he loves to tell you how good you’re doing, how pretty you look. You barely have to beg to get what you want, your his princess and your wish is his command. Those doe eyes get him everytime, he can barely stay mad at you when you’re being a brat. Ironically the punisher doesn’t like punishing you, but he will put you in your place if need be. When Matt is being rough on you, he’s the calm to your storm. Kissing your face, shushing you, wiping your tears. “Sssh… you got it princess. Taking it so well. Just a little more, you can do it. Attagirl.”

Matt’s calling you his slut, his little kitten, while Frank’s calling you his princess, his pretty girl. There’s many a time Frank and Matt start arguing in the middle of a scene, butt naked. “You’re too hard on her red, don’t be a fuckin’ asshole.” Before you know it, they’re going at each others throats, leaving you high and dry…

#matt murdock x reader x frank castle #frank castle #frank castle smut #frank castle x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut

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mattmurdocksscars · 3 months

Text

A Reveal

*Yeets this into the void* Have the third part to the Chaos Trio. I've had this sitting in my docs for a little while now and I finally decided I wasn't going to add any more to it for now. This chapter has no Frank sadly but he'll be back, don't worry.

Word Count: 1666

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader x Frank Castle

Daredevil stood outside your door and shifted his weight back and forth. He wasn't injured, he had no real reason to be here, and yet… outside your door he stood. Frank's words had been bothering him for some time now and he tried to pretend it was just a rough night driving him to seek your comfort but it was so much more. It was months of yearning on his end, of wanting more but being too afraid to act on it. He told himself that tonight he was going to tell you who he was. He was going to open up to you and hoped you would, in turn, do the same.

He just had to find the courage to open your door.

He tilted his head, listening in on where you were in the house. It sounded like you were in the kitchen, maybe making a late night snack from the sounds he was picking up. He smiled softly to himself. He knew you stayed up for him and it meant more than he would ever be able to put into words, even if he wished you would get more sleep. But who was he to call you on your sleeping habits?

Taking a deep breath, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen forced himself to open your door.

"D, is that you?" You called out.

"Yeah, it's me." Daredevil moved through your space with a practiced smoothness, telling of months of being familiar with the space. He made his way to your couch and sat down.

"Don't stop what you're doing, I'm not injured." He called out when he heard you move towards the sink. He heard you stop and cock your head, before slowly returning to making your snack.

"Is this a social visit then?"

"You could call it that, yeah." You chuckled and finished what you were doing before moving to sit across from him. But D stopped you before you could, gently guiding you to sit beside him. You furrowed your brow but did as he requested. It was quiet for several minutes as he seemed to be getting his thoughts together.

"Is everything alright, D? You're scaring me here." You said with a nervous laugh. To your immense surprise, Daredevil reached up and pulled his mask off.

"Matt. My name is Matthew Murdock." You gaped at him, eyes greedily drinking in his newly exposed face.

"What- Why-" You cleared your throat. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because after everything you've done for me, you deserve to know. That, and… I want you to know. I want you to know who I am underneath this suit." Tears welled up and Daredevil's, no Matt's hands came up to cup your cheeks.

"Don't cry." He whispered.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to, I just… I was beginning to think you'd never tell me who you were." You admitted quietly. Matt's heart broke at your words and he pulled you into his arms to hug you close.

"I was always going to tell you. I just… had to stop being afraid first." He felt your arms come up to rest around him, your fingers skirting over his suit in a soothing motion.

"You? Afraid? I don't believe it." You teased, pulling a chuckle from Matt's mouth.

"I know it doesn't seem like it, but there's plenty I'm afraid of." Matt smoothed a hand down your back. "I was especially afraid of telling you who I was."

"Why though? You have to know I won't tell anyone."

"Of course I know that. It's just, if I get too close to you, someone could find out and use you to get to me. That… that happened to a friend of mine. They found out she was connected to the man in the mask and they used her as bait to drag me out. Beat the hell out of her because she wouldn't tell them anything. Not that she knew much then, but still. I've had a hard time getting close to people since…" Matt explained.

"That why you're friends with Castle? Cause he can take care of himself?"

"Something like that. Our priorities line up occasionally and if I'm around, I can tend to lower the body count." You both chuckled at that. Slowly, you pulled back to look at Matt. He let you pull away to an extent, but kept his hands on you. You brought your hands up to gently cup his cheeks, thumbs brushing just below his eyes.

"You know… I always believed everything you told me but somehow seeing that you're blind… I don't know, I guess I just had a hard time believing that part before." Matt cracked a smile. "What you didn't tell me is how beautiful your eyes are."

Matt cleared his throat, his cheeks heating beneath your palms.

"They don't bother you?"

"What do you mean?"

"It… tends to bother people that I can't look them in the eye." You ground your teeth together at that, angry for him.

"That is completely absurd. It's not like you're doing it on purpose. So, no, it doesn't bother me and it never will."

"Good." Matt whispered before clearing his throat. "I was thinking that we could spend tonight talking. I want to answer any questions you have."

You smiled brightly at that.

"You may end up regretting that." You warned him and he laughed.

"No. No, I don't think I will." A warmth filled you at his words and you got settled into the couch to start asking questions.

You asked him everything you could think of. What he did for a living, his hobbies outside of the firm and being a vigilante, his favorite foods, how sensitive his senses really were. And he answered every question with the utmost sincerity.

It wasn't one sided either. Matt asked you questions too and you answered them all. You told him simple things like your favorite color and favorite food but also deeper things like what you were scared of. He had been shocked to learn that he played a part in your fears.

"I just… sometimes I'm scared you're going to come to me with wounds beyond my capabilities. Or that you won't make it to me at all. Those are valid concerns." You told him. He made a soft noise before he reached for you, gently pulling you into his lap and pressing his forehead to yours.

"I promise you I will always try to make it back to you." You smiled and leaned into his touch.

"I can deal with that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good." Matt nuzzled his nose against yours and you couldn't help the way your breath hitched at how close he was to you. Matt smirked as he picked up on your uptick in heart rate.

"Sweetheart?"

"Yes, Matt?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

The first press of his lips to yours was a soft, tentative thing. A barely there brush of skin. But the second kiss? Oh, the second kiss was an explosion of all the pent up passion the two of you had been harboring for each other. Matt's mouth pressed to yours, his lips moving in tandem with your own, was like a dream come true for you. Matt's hands slid to your hips to squeeze while your hands slid into his hair to tug, which pulled a deep moan from Matt's throat. You grinned into the kiss and he nipped your bottom lip in retaliation. Both of you chuckled as you pulled apart and pressed your foreheads together, not interested in space. Matt was the first to break the silence.

"Can I take you out to dinner sometime? I want to take you on a proper date." You grinned and nodded quickly.

"Yes. I'd love that."

"Good. I know a place. How does Friday at 7 sound?"

"I can make that work." You told him. He smiled and leaned up to kiss you again, softly this time. One of his hands gently slid around the side of your neck and he held you there for just a few moments.

"It's getting late." He murmured. "I should probably go. Let you get some sleep."

"Or you could stay. Since you wouldn't have to sleep in the mask." You offered. He gave a rueful little smile.

"I would, but I don't have any clothes to wear for tomorrow. And I fear if I stay with you tonight, I'll be unable to keep my hands to myself." You chuckled, cheeks heating with his admission.

"And that's a bad thing… why?"

"I want to do this right." He admitted quietly. "You deserve better than that and I want to give it to you."

You smiled at his words and leaned back enough to kiss his forehead.

"Well, when you put it like that…" You both laughed and Matt pulled you in close again, hugging you tightly.

"Thank you for understanding." You buried your head into the crook of his neck, holding him as tightly as he held you.

"You don't have to thank me for that. Your logic is sweet." You pulled away and pressed one more quick kiss to his lips before standing up. Matt followed your lead and the both of you headed for the door. Matt quickly donned his mask before opening the door and stepping out into the night.

"I'll call you?" He said, a hopeful lilt to his voice.

"Sounds good. I'll see you soon." And with that, he was gone. You closed and locked the door behind him before turning and leaning against it. You pressed two fingers to your lips then squealed, jumping up and down a couple times. You couldn't believe tonight had really happened. Not only did Matt tell you who he was but he returned your feelings. It felt too good to be true.

You floated on cloud nine as you got ready for bed. Finally laying down, you fell asleep with a smile on your face.

#matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader #matt murdock x reader x frank castle #chaos trio

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sunflowersandsapphires · 10 months

Text

Matt Murdock x Autistic!Reader x Frank Castle Headcanons!

I’ve been feeling incredibly AuDHD this week so here are some headcanons for how Matt and Frank would treat their autistic partner :)

If anyone wants to see drabbles/one-shots with an autistic!reader based on my own experiences, let me know!!

I am certain that both Matt and Frank would be so loving and devoted to their autistic partner. It might take a bit of time to work out some things but they’d be so good to you.

Something that I really struggle with is expressing romantic love while also having pretty intense sensory issues? I am not touch averse, and usually crave touch, but if I’ve spent too much energy on other things, touch is usually the first thing to overwhelm me.

If you struggle with touch or being held, or you’re even just having a bad day, Matt and Frank would be so understanding because they, of all people, definitely understand what that’s like.

While Frank probably has more experience with tactical planning, both a legal and a military background require incredible attention to detail which would come in handy with both setting routines and going over the plan for something.

My inability to read social cues has led to intense social anxiety, especially where there’s crowds. One way that I prepare for going to events is by creating a detailed plan on my head of how I will get to and leave the event.

Matt and Frank’s combined attention to detail would be so helpful for talking through what an activity would look like, who would be there, where it was taking place, when you’d need to leave by.

Because Matt is incredibly social, and incredibly sweet, I think that he would be over the moon to help you bypass your social anxiety at functions.

He would go out of his way to make you feel comfortable. Whether that means speaking for you if you can’t, or bringing up a topic that you’re interested in so you feel more at ease with a group.

I think everyone is in agreement (myself included) that Matt would be perfect if you needed help because you were overstimulated. He has heightened senses and experiences that stuff himself, so it wouldn’t be too hard for him to take care of you in that situation.

But I also think Frank would excel at that. He’s a man of few words and he wouldn’t overwhelm you with questions or suggestions. He would listen to what you needed or what Matt proposed and take action. For example, if you were having a bad sensory day and were on the verge of a meltdown so you couldn’t do the dishes you planned on doing, there’s no doubt Frank would have them done by the time you were ready to socialize again.

This man would keep a strict inventory of comfy clothes and blankets and fidgets for you, making sure to keep everything relatively orderly so that you had what you needed if you weren’t in the mood to go looking. (Because let’s be honest, some days we are all a lost sock away from a mental breakdown.)

Another issue that I face is being seen as too honest or blunt? I often overexplain why I am phrasing something the way that I am so it’s not seen as rude or ignorant.

I think Matt and Frank would really appreciate someone being honest with them, especially Matt. Given that he can tell when people are lying, I think it would be a nice change of pace for him to have a partner who doesn’t really do the whole “white lie” thing.

I also think expressing the reasoning behind why you’re asking something or saying something a certain way would bring him peace because he knows exactly how to interpret it. This man has self-esteem issues of his own, he doesn’t need open ended or slightly ominous questions to make him spiral.

Also, I firmly believe that Frank would crack up at some of the stuff that comes out of an unfiltered mouth. I think he would adore how embarrassed you get trying to apologize for being rude because you said something without thinking. He would simply tell you there was no reason to apologize because whatever you said was hilarious.

anyway, this is heavily based on my own experiences but I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know if you’d like to see more headcanons and feel free to request.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x frank castle x reader #matt murdock x reader x frank castle #frank castle x reader #Matt Murdock #frank castle #autistic characters #autistic reader #Daredevil #marvel daredevil #daredevil x reader #the punisher x reader #the punisher #marvel the punisher #matt murdock x you #matt murdock headcanon #frank castle x female reader #frank castle headcanons

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saintmurd0ck · 2 years

Note

congrats rhi!!! well deserved 👏🏼💖

🗽 - matt and frank are on the brain. what if you tried going on a date with them?? and they're making each other jealous, which eventually leads to all three of you breaking the bed in matt's apartment 👀

nik baby, thank you so much for this ask. i am so sorry it took so long, BUT i needed it to be absolutely perfect, and i think ive done it. it was absolute perfection, a joy to work on, and clearly you know me so well because this is one of my favourite things to write EVER and i will die on this hill!!!! i love you and thank you for your incredible request <3

winner's streak | frank castle x f!reader x matt murdock

masterlist

summary: you've had a little thing for your neighbours for the longest time. what's the worst that can happen when you ask them both on a date and turn it into a little friendly competition?

warnings: matt & frank roommate au, voyeurism/public exhibition, couple blind jokes, fingering, oral m and f receiving, unprotected p in v, spanking, choking, etc bruh there's so many i cant

THIS IS A LONG ASS FIC (9K WORDS DONT KILL ME) BUT PLEASE ENJOY AND REBLOGS ARE MUCH APPRECIATED

Your groan reverberates against the iron door, echoing into the empty space of the stairwell.

ROOFTOP CLOSED, the paper sign reads, FOR SCHEDULED MAINTENANCE.

It’s impossible for your eyes to roll any further back. Of all days this rooftop is closed, why does it have to be today?

The notice scrunches in your hand as you pull it free from the door, shoving it down into your bag. You’re already annoyed about making the trek up to the rooftop, but thankfully it’s a quick trip back downstairs, and you’re outside on the fire escape in no time. The balmy afternoon wind flushes hot against your face, thin metal railing digging into your forearms as you lean forward, but your chest falls gracefully with the deep exhale that carries with it any negativity.

You’re grateful for the quiet. Besides the occasional siren, you’re high enough that you can barely hear the commotion of the streets – a rarity in this city – and apart from your noisy neighbours to the left, it’s pretty tranquil here.

Keeping an ear out for anyone disturbing your peace, you scout the apartments to either side of you, listening to the ambient sounds and whatever the street below has to offer. Nothing today; nothing except for the brush of wind rustling the trees and dislodging those clumsily pinned flyers you hate. Good.

With no one home around you, and weather almost too perfect for tanning, your hand snakes up your spine to where the strings of your bikini top lay, tied in a careless knot that comes undone in one tug. The summer heat hits your bare chest with a ferocity that surprises you, but you close your eyes and tip your head back, allowing the sun’s warmth to wash over your face and cascade down your body.

But then, it shoots straight at you; a whistling arrow that lodges itself into the centre of your chest. It’s the sound of a breath catching; an inhale so sharp you might mistake it for a hiss. Your head whips to the side.

“Frank,” you seethe, hands flying up to where you’re exposed.

He croaks out your name as your eyes level into his, bewildered stare parting his mouth in an ‘o’. He doesn’t know where to look as you muster a fake smile, tilting your head to the side so saccharinely you feel him cave inwards.

Frank’s body is still square to yours as he looks up to the sky. “Nice uh… sunny day, right?”

You scoff, arms tightening around your chest. “Cut the shit, Frank. Were you spying on me?”

His nostrils flare as he grips his coffee mug, knuckles turning white to the point where you think it’s going to break.

“Well?” you deadpan, a muscle twitching in your jaw.

He sputters at your question, and then it dawns on you.

He’s lost for words.

Your lips curl into a smile. First of all, you’re not really mad per se, you just like seeing him squirm. Secondly, Frank fucking Castle, your utterly menacing, 6 foot, ‘women call me daddy and I benchpress 400 lbs’ neighbour is lost for words. He’s stumbling over every syllable, and it’s like you have him by the balls.

Then again, maybe you just did.

You’ve seen the way he looks at you, not-so-slick with the little half-glances he shoots your way, or how his lips purse when he sees you in the hallway, the vein in his neck popping as an existing string of unholy thoughts undeniably course through his head. He’s always rushing to help you with something, whether it’s to carry your groceries, or to repair anything broken in your apartment.

You never complain, of course. With the way he treats you like a queen, and gets away looking like that? Yeah, you can’t fault his behaviour.

And that was just Frank’s side of things. His polar opposite, puppy-eyed roommate Matt has it just as bad for you, but Matt… oh, Matt… he makes you throb in ways you don’t understand. You’re the kind of girl who will never let a man tell you what to do, but Matt? He makes you want to get on your knees, submit yourself to him, devote yourself whole.

Matt’s not a grand gesture kind of guy as much as Frank is; he’s more of a smooth talker, knowing exactly when and how to lay on the charm. In fact, it’s not just that; he intrigues you. You’re observant – more than you give yourself credit for – and you notice the unexplainable, the somewhat impossible. It’s the bruised knuckles that so often leave his hands stained crimson, the cane that’s nowhere to be seen, the hushed phone calls and (to your displeasure), kiss-bitten lips.

You know a body as cut as his doesn’t come from walking to the office every day.

If you go out on your fire escape at just the right time, and tip your head in just the right direction, you can hear them talking about you. You’ve never admitted it out loud, but your heart flutters with the way Frank describes you to Matt, in what you’re wearing that day, or when he says those mundane things like, ‘she bought the same toothpaste as us!’

Alright, fine. You’ll admit it.

You think about them. A lot.

And in more ways than one.

You’ve indulged in their words, in their actions, in the little things they do that makes your skin hot and your back arch. It’s always variations of the same forbidden fantasy that creep into your mind, images that become more visceral as your fingers slip beyond the thin material of your soaked panties.

And in this fantasy, there's both of them, working you, stuffing you… until you can’t handle anymore, until you cry out both their names as you fall apart.

The worst bit? With time, your desire for them — or, whatever the hell you want to call it — has only grown stronger. It used to be that you’d run into them in the corridor, exchange a few ordinary greetings, maybe flash a pearly smile, and leave as they melt into man-sized puddles. Now if you run into each other, you all leave flustered, fumbling for the locks on your paint-chipped doors, desperately trying to conceal whatever indulgent thoughts you all harbour in your minds.

“You okay?” Frank’s gruff voice snaps you back down to earth.

You shake your head as you snap awake, your doe-eyes meeting his. “Hmm?”

He blushes, fingers straining against his coffee mug. “You just started starin’ off in the distance…”

You offer him a tight-lipped smile as your chest rises with a rapid breath, doing your best to ignore the second pulse that’s appeared in between your legs.

You really had to daydream at the right time, huh?

“Look,” he coughs, diverting his gaze, again, “M’sorry for uh… interruptin’ your–”

The graphic image of his body in yours while Matt’s underneath clouds your vision, and it turns your knees to jelly. “I-it’s fine.”

You spin on your heels, intent on dropping one of your arms to reach for the side door, but you conceive an idea.

“Hey Frank?”

“Yeah?”

You turn to face him. “Let’s go out tonight. You know that wine bar between 10th and 11th?”

He musses a hand through his hair, eyebrows raising as he nods. “Really?”

“What,” you pout, “you don’t wanna?”

A wry smile creeps across your face as he straightens his spine, the intensity of your stare a little too much for him as his eyes flick away, throat bobbing as he shifts in his stance, almost uncomfortably.

Oh.

You stifle a gasp, zoning in on the faint outline of him, straining against his jeans.

Pupils blown and lips pursed, he catches you staring, watching intently as your tongue snakes out to wet your lips. The vein in his neck is as prominent as ever as his eyes wander over your body, at your bikini bottoms that leave almost nothing to the imagination, at your half-naked self standing there in his presence.

An idea crosses your mind. An insanely, obscene, insane idea, but oh, you’re devious. Frank squeezes his coffee mug tighter, eyes pulsating as the corners of your mouth upturn into a cheeky grin…

And your hands drop from your chest.

All you hear is the soft murmur of a holy shit, the ceramic mug shattering apart in his hands, and the sound of your laugh echoing in the wind, carrying itself across the rooftops.

“I’ll see you tonight at 7, Frank.”

Matt catches you in the hallway later that day as you’re running errands, heartbeat thundering in your ears as he walks himself into your shoulder. He murmurs a quick ‘sorry’, straightening his suit jacket, preparing to continue his walk ahead.

“It’s me, Matt!” you call out, biting your lips he turns, his composure cracking with an infectious chuckle and a smile that crinkles his eyes.

He motions to his cane, shrugging his shoulders. “Whoops.”

Rolling your eyes, you push off your heels, inching closer to him, his voice smooth in your ears. “How was your day?”

You focus on a small piece of white lint sitting awkwardly on Matt’s lapel as he shifts his weight onto one foot, running your tongue over your teeth as you contemplate whether or not to flick it off.

“Actually,” you start, heat singeing the back of your neck as Frank pops into your mind, “you know what? It wasn’t that bad. How was yours?”

Matt chuckles half-heartedly, nodding. “That’s uh, that’s great to hear. Mine was… well, we received a hundred rhubarb pies as payment today. S’for a client we helped a while back.”

He leans his head in towards your giggle, hand flying up to loosen his tie. “Alright, I’m exaggerating,” – he tips his head to the side – “I’m told there were… four, at best, but Foggy’s acting like we have that many.”

A moment of silence passes between you, nothing but a gust of warm wind filling the negative space. Your breath picks up as your mind races. Say something. Anything.

A look of uncertainty flashes across Matt’s face as he purses his lips, hand coming up to brush against his stubble. “Look, I’ve– I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while, but–”

“For a while?” you interject, raising your eyebrows.

“Yeah, a while,” – he rounds his shoulders, both hands gripping his cane – “d’ya wanna get a drink somewhere?”

“Are you asking me on a date, Matthew?”

He laughs, cheeks reddening at your question. “Only if that’s fine with you.”

“Hang on a second, how long exactly have you been thinking about this?”

Flustered, Matt pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, dimples showing as he tries to hide his sheepish smile. “A while.”

“Stop me when I get close.”

He grins from ear-to-ear.

“One month?” you ask.

“No.”

You feign surprise. “Three months?”

“Nope.”

Matt laughs as you gasp, loudly. Too loudly. “A year.”

“Longer than that, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

The nickname pools in your thighs, heating the tips of your ears, forcing you to bite back a moan.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” Matt asks, nudging your foot with his cane.

What about Frank?

The memory of the obvious tent in Frank’s jeans tugs on the knot building behind your stomach.

“I– well, I have the apartment to myself tonight, so I could cook. For you,” Matt says, voice lined with anticipation.

“Huh,” you look up, swallowing a laugh. “Frank isn’t home tonight?”

Matt scrunches his face. “Uh… no. He said he had something on. I figured I might as well take advantage of the quiet.”

In an instant, a thought blossoms in your mind. It’s devious, it is so goddamn devious, but oh…

So are you.

You step forwards, breath coming out a little shaky as the heat from his body reflects onto yours. Reaching a hand up to his lapel, you brush off the lint you were eyeing earlier, indulging in the earnest grunt that falls from Matt’s lips.

“7 PM,” you whisper in his ear. “Meet me at the wine bar between 10th and 11th.”

He presses your hand against his collarbone, holding it steady as he tilts his head downwards. You’re shuddering at his touch, at the warmth and tingles it shoots through your veins, at the unexpected coarseness of his hands.

“It’s a date,” he confirms, letting go of your hand, the dimples in his grin remaining as he unlocks the door to his apartment.

The wine bar is intimate; only the sounds of hushed whispers and the clinking of glasses keeping you company. You tap your fingers against the lacquered wooden table, sucking in your cheeks as you look at the time. 7.15 PM. You’re a little annoyed, not just at the fact that they’re late, but at the straps of your sundress, thin and finicky things sliding off your shoulders with even the tiniest of movements. A sigh escapes your lips, condensation blooming across the wineglass in front of your face. Maybe they figured you’d double booked them, asked them to the same venue and on the same date without saying much more. So much for your devious little plan, huh?

You pick at your nails, wine crisp on your tastebuds, each subsequent sip making you dizzy, but slowly taking the edge off. Who cares if they don’t show up? You need a night out anyway.

As if on cue, the door opens, catching on the little silver doorbell, and Frank steps inside, a bouquet of flowers in hand. Your breath hitches in your throat as you take him in. He’s somehow even more ruggedly handsome tonight, sharp jawline perfectly illuminated by the warm lighting.

He apologises to you profusely, pulling you in for a tight hug, the contact from the muscles flexing under his thin shirt heating your skin. He motions to the bartender for a glass of whatever you’re having, setting the flowers down beside you.

He rests his forearms on the table, dark eyes peering into yours. “Will you excuse my tardiness, pretty girl?”

Oh, my fuck. What the hell is it with you and nicknames?

‘Pretty girl’ jolts you upright with a throb, and it takes every single ounce of strength you possess not to just uproot him by the collar and have him right then and there. Unfortunately, your reaction is poorly masked, and you’re forced to watch as Frank’s knowing smile grows, stretching larger as the bartender brings him his drink.

“Cheers,” he says, lifting his glass to yours, tongue peeking out to wet his lips, eyes moving lazily up and down your torso.

Frank leans back in the booth as he takes a sip, his shirt riding up to expose the smallest sliver of skin. “So, uh, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the reason for,” – he waves his hands around – “all this?”

You swallow what’s left of your wine, pressing your lips together. What were you supposed to say, that you were sick of the sexual tension and all you wanted was to have fun with Frank and his equally sexy roommate?

You say something else instead. “I like being spontaneous, Frank.”

He cocks his head to the side, raising his eyebrows. “S’that so?”

You let out a sharp laugh. “I’m sick of doing the same thing all the time, and I need a little change in scenery.”

Frank shuffles towards you, muscles rippling under his long-sleeved shirt. “And you think I can do that for ‘ya?”

A half-smirk tugs on the corners of your lips as your fingers start to dance to where his hands are resting on the table…

But you jerk your hand back, ears pricking up at the sound of the door swinging open and slamming against the wooden frame, followed by a loud ‘sorry’ offered to whoever’s tending the bar.

Your stomach turns as the bartender guides Matt to your table at your signal.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Still think this is a good idea?

You’re not sure where to look as Frank’s sour expression shoots daggers straight at you, moving over hesitantly to make room for Matt in the booth.

Matt’s cold shoulder towards Frank is way too obvious as he sits down, setting his neatly folded cane on the table.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he swallows, “I had something I had to… take care of. But I came here as soon as I could.”

You glance down, flinching at the scabs across his knuckles, at the deep purple bruise on his cheek marring his features. There it is again, that thing about him you can’t quite figure out.

“Yeah, okay, the fuck is this?” Frank turns to you, quizzical look bordering on anger.

“I’m sorry, I thought this was a date,” – Matt chimes in, wagging his finger at you – “between the two of us”.

“She asked me here, Red,” Frank whips his head around, shoulders tensing.

Matt scoffs, throwing his head back. “You? She asked you.”

Frank grits his teeth, fists clenching tightly together. “Shut the hell up. At least I had the decency to get the lady flowers.”

Matt laughs scornfully. “Oh yeah Castle, that’s so original of you.”

“We needa take this outside, Red?”

The clink of three whiskey glasses being set down on your table is loud enough to collapse their argument.

The server clears their throat. “Excuse me. Courtesy of that man over there,” — they pause, pointing — “if you keep it down.”

You thank the server, flashing an apologetic smile at the man in the corner, and pull a glass towards you, tipping it straight into your mouth. Frank does the same, waving at the bar for three more, while Matt sips his furtively, licking his lips before he swallows.

“I can explain,” you start, grateful for the warmth of the whiskey spreading through your veins.

Your face grows hot as Matt and Frank sit back in the booth, training their attention on you. With your heart thundering in your chest, the alcohol rushes to your head, hitting you with that little bit of confidence you need.

You lean forwards on the table, cocking your head to the side. “Let’s not sugarcoat this, alright?”

Frank shoots a sideways glance at Matt.

“You two think you’re so slick with your looks, and comments and… sink fixing,” you say, fingers curling into fists, “but the truth is, you don’t hide it well. At all.”

Matt presses his lips together as he slides his glasses up the bridge of his nose, while Frank takes a shallow breath.

Your forearms are now completely on the wood as you inch closer. “If you want me, you can just say so.”

The space between the three of you suddenly goes dead quiet; so quiet it’s as if time has fallen away, leaving you in your own little bubble.

“It’s lucky,” you pause, “that I have an affinity for you both. And I thought maybe… just maybe, we could have a little fun together.” You turn your head, making sure Frank catches the mischievous glint in your eyes.

You’re so far forwards now that your head is in between theirs, and you bring your hands up to their cheeks, pushing them closer to you. With their heads almost touching, and your lips one breath away from their ears, you feel the shudder running through their spines reverberate into your body. “Maybe we can make it a little interesting, hmm? Only if you’re up for it,” you wink.

Matt’s smirk peaks your nipples, spurring you to lower your voice, words dripping like honey. “Let’s just say the person who makes me cum the most tonight can take me on a real date.”

To his credit, Matt keeps his cool, merely interlacing his hands together on the table, sucking his cheeks in. Frank curses under his breath, gaze narrowing as he studies you, contemplating your proposition.

Matt is the first to speak, his voice dipping an octave. “Let’s go.”

Frank jerks his head in Matt’s direction, eyes wide. “Huh?”

Matt’s tone is insistent now. “Let’s get outta here.”

“Fuck, Red,” Frank whispers, hand coming up to stroke his chin, as the server sets three more whiskeys down on the table.

You exchange a glance with Frank before you throw back the liquid, head shaking as it burns the back of your throat. They follow suit, wasting no time at all, and while Frank leaves a generous tip at the table, you make a beeline for the door.

The cab is way too small for the three of you, but you squeeze into the middle seat anyway, biting back a wicked grin as Matt leans forward to give the driver his address.

There’s not a lot of space – well, not when you’re caught between two individuals with the muscle mass of an entire Planet Fitness combined – but you try to relax, heart racing as your body presses up against theirs. Something clenches in your jaw as you shuffle in the seat, the paper-wrapped bouquet of flowers crinkling by your feet. You’re not sure where to put your hands, but they come to settle at the edge of your sundress, where it’s ridden up almost beyond the point of modesty.

A thick finger sweeps against the back of your neck, catching you off-guard. The half-gasp half-cough you let out is louder than intended, and it draws the attention of the cab driver, who looks at you from his rearview mirror.

“Everything okay, miss?” he asks, concerned.

You will yourself to snap out of it, out of that lust-filled daze, squeezing your legs together as the throbbing in between your thighs intensifies.

“Yes,” you gulp. “Everything’s fine, thank you.”

Frank waits until the driver flicks his gaze back to the road ahead. “Didn’t mean to scare ‘ya, sweetheart. You want me to stop?”

You purse your lips. “No.”

He takes his hand away from your neck and hovers over the patch of skin your sundress did cover. He drags the tips of his fingers up your thigh, stopping just high enough to hear the tremble in your breath, shooting you a half-smirk as you suck your cheeks in.

“Frank.” Matt’s tone is stern as he tilts his chin upwards, nostrils flaring with his rising temper. “I thought we agreed to wait.”

Frank’s laugh is mirthlessly low. “Who said that, Red?”

You stare at your knee, at the big hand that’s found its mark. You’ve never noticed how gorgeous Frank’s hands are, the way he keeps his fingernails neatly trimmed, forked veins on the topside pulsating as he grips tighter, the light pink striations of healed scars running over his knuckles. And those fingers… God, if his fingers are that thick already, what would his–

You bite down on your lip, hard, as Frank pulls your knee towards him, spreading you apart in the seat. Fuck. Every nerve in your body is on fire as he lifts your hand up to his mouth, static electricity buzzing as his lips graze over your knuckles.

While Frank’s other hand slides under your dress, up to where the thin waistband of your panties sit, Matt leans over, as if to fix his seatbelt. Your eyes lull back in your head as he creeps forward instead, fingers skimming the inside of your thigh, their combined actions threatening to elicit a moan from your lips.

You’re not in control anymore.

Actually, you haven’t been in control for ages. It takes all of your willpower – well, what’s left of it – to not cry out, to not sit as far back as possible and let them…

“That’ll be $29.30,” the driver announces, brakes screeching as he pulls up outside your apartment building.

“Fuck!” you curse under your breath, reaching for your purse as you pull down your dress.

Matt grabs your wrist, locking it in place as he takes out his wallet, gliding one finger along the top of the bills.

“I think this is a 50… Frank, a little help please?” Frank grunts in agreement as Matt hands the bill to the driver. “Keep the change.”

You don’t care that you flash Frank a little as he helps you out, smirking as you watch his chest tighten at the little scrap of fabric barely covering you, clenching the bouquet of flowers in his other hand. You yelp as he pulls you out towards him, flush against the hard muscle of his chest.

His gaze is piercing as he tips your chin upwards, irises paper thin around blown pupils. “You sure you know what you’re gettin’ into, pretty girl?”

You swat his hand away. “Oh Frank, I’m not quite sure you’re ready for me.”

“What, you think I can’t handle you or somethin’?”

He trains his eyes on your mouth as it shifts into a wry smile, your tongue darting out to lick your lips in one smooth motion. Frank opens his mouth to retort, to say something with the intention of buckling your knees, but Matt walks up to you with perfect timing, offering you his arm.

“Walk with me?”

Frank groans, throwing his head back. “How many times do I have to tell ‘ya, Red? You can’t keep using that trick. What happens the day someone says no, huh? Can’t walk by yourself?”

A hearty laugh bubbles from Matt’s chest. “First of all, go to hell. Secondly,” – his voice drops to a whisper – “no one’s gonna say no to a blind man.”

He turns to you, arm still on offer. “Right, sweetheart?”

You savour the priceless look on Frank’s face as you take Matt’s arm, linking it in yours. “Absolutely, Matthew.”

The walk upstairs to their apartment is excruciatingly slow; every step laced with the type of tension that sits thickly in the air. Arm still in tow with Matt’s, Frank trails behind the two of you, the thud of his boots against the wood echoing loudly in the stairway. You can feel him staring at you, at the way your dress flutters with each step upwards, the little glimpses of your ass making his mouth go dry.

Matt stops on the next landing, jerking your arm to do the same. Wordlessly, he drops his cane to the ground, unlinking his arm, tilting his chin upwards as if to settle his phantom gaze on you.

His lips are on yours before you can say anything, hands dropping to your waist, inching you towards the wall until he has you pinned. You mewl as he slips the straps of your dress off your shoulders, trailing his kisses down your neck, pressing himself into you.

“If there’s anything you’re uncomfortable with,” – he rasps, nipping a sensitive spot on your neck – “you tell us, okay?”

He smirks against your mouth as you tell him ‘yes’, dragging the tips of his fingers from your collarbone down your arm.

But the kiss is over as quickly as it started.

“Hey, hey, hey, what the fuck, Red?” Frank spits, yanking Matt back by the collar.

“Fuck you, Frank,” Matt retorts, stepping forward as his hands tighten into fists.

You stifle a giggle, trying your best not to show your amusement at the flowers that undercut Frank’s tone.

Frank looks at you, nostrils flaring at the way Matt’s messed up your hair. “Darlin’, it’s a fair competition, yeah?”

Matt interjects as you start to agree. “Alright, Castle, then tell me how much fun you had before I got there. You had a head start.”

Frank throws his hands up in the air, shaking his head. “For God’s sake Red, I didn’t ask for you to be late–”

Matt presses his lips together, cupping his hands over his face, the exasperation in his voice imminent. “I had things to do, Frank, I–”

You clear your throat. “Why don’t you two save this for when we’re upstairs, huh?”

They turn their heads in your direction, nodding.

The two remaining flights of stairs disappear under your feet in a matter of seconds.

You swear you hear a crack as Frank bursts into the apartment, ushering you in as he scrambles to kick the front door closed. Matt lets out a little laugh as you drag him inside, stomach twisting as he yanks your hand, spinning you towards him. His lips find yours in an instant as he shrugs his suit jacket off, hands coming up to cup your jaw.

Bouquet of flowers still in hand, Frank rushes to find a vase, faucet creaking as he waits for it to fill up.

“Hey!” he yells out, “Better not start anything without me!”

Matt breaks away from your kiss to undo his tie, whipping his head towards Frank in the kitchen. “Like you waited in the cab?”

He groans into your mouth as your tongue swipes along his bottom lip, teeth gently clashing together as he steadies his hands on your face.

“Frank?!” Matt calls, pulling off his glasses.

“Yeah?”

“Here.” Matt throws his glasses at Frank, who catches them in one hand, setting them onto the counter with a soft click.

As his mouth meets yours again, Matt’s hands begin to wander. As his thumbs brush over your nipples, he dances his fingers upwards, lingering for a moment on the hollow of your throat, coaxing a soft gasp from you as he uses a knuckle to trace its outline.

His lips skirt your collarbone as he lifts your dress up, grunting as he kneads your ass, grinding his hard cock into your leg. He continues moving his hands up to where your panties sit on your hips, picking at the waistband, listening intently for the snap of the elastic against your skin as he lets go.

There it is again, that fucking smirk.

“Matt,” you exhale sharply, nipping at his earlobe as he snaps your waistband once again. “Matt…”

“God, I love it when you say my name like that,” he groans, tugging your panties down your thighs.

He presses closer to you, wedging his hand under your dress, tracing a finger up your slick folds. You’re squirming in place, chest heaving as he puts pressure on your clit, circling it in a way that pulls on the knot building behind your stomach.

You make a sound you’ve never heard before as Frank comes up behind you, thick hands gripping your waist, holding you in place, steadying you for something you’ve only ever fantasised about.

Matt sinks his fingers into you, thumb still moving over your clit, brushing up against that spot that makes you see stars.

“Attagirl,” Frank whispers, as you tip your head back into his shoulder, vision going blurry at the way Matt curls his fingers inside you.

You’re a mess, dripping all over his hand, keening into his touch.

Frank’s voice is husky in your ear. “Look up at – that’s right, baby, look up at me.”

You stare into Frank’s eyes, mouth parted in a perfect ‘o’ as Matt growls, thumb so slick with your arousal that he glides over your clit with ease. All you manage to get out is ‘mmhm’ before Frank brings his fingers to your lips, commanding you to ‘suck’.

Frank purses his lips, throat bobbing as you seal your mouth around his fingers, bucking against Matt’s touch, eyes rolling back as he hits the back of your throat, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“That’s right, darlin’,” Frank rasps, watching the uneven rise and fall of your chest, the telltale sign of your impending release.

Your cry is muffled as your orgasm rips through your body, flooding Matt’s hand, his own slacks staining with his leaking precum. There’s a string of spit clinging to Frank as he slides his fingers out from your mouth with a pop, but it doesn’t phase him; not one bit. In fact, he tips his head down to look at you like a trophy, something like a mix of awe and desire manifesting in his darkened gaze.

You wobble as Matt and Frank step away from you, slipping your dress off as you right your balance on the couch behind, bracing your wrists on the soft leather.

But there’s no rest for the wicked, and Frank beckons you towards him as he pulls his shirt off, leaving it in a heap on the floor. He sweeps you in for a kiss, full lips insistent against yours. He’s a little rougher than Matt, but somehow, his mouth is more forgiving, warm and soft as it melds to yours. You break the kiss, stepping back for a second to look him up and down, taking in as much detail as possible.

“Holy hell,” you say, Frank’s responding expression evidence that you actually said that out loud, and not in your head.

He looks at the floor, shyly messing a hand through his hair. “S’there uh… something you like?”

“Something I like?!” you exclaim, ogling him.

“Shut up, Frank. How the– Oh my God, Matt, get over here,” you command, motioning Frank to come up behind you.

You waste no time in unbuttoning Matt’s shirt, working your way from top to bottom. Unlike Frank and his efforts to woo you by walking around shirtless, you’ve never seen Matt without clothes on. He’s always in something, to your disdain…

Until now.

A gasp escapes your lips – partly from the way Frank’s leaving marks all over your neck – at Matt’s tanned skin underneath, at what he’s been hiding this entire time. You run your hand over the vast expanse of him, jaw dropping as he flexes underneath your hand, rigid muscle sending heat to your core. Your heart stills at the scars flecking his torso, some well healed, some angry and red as if they’re new.

Frank skirts his fingers over your nipples, pulling from you the tiniest whimper.

“Uh…” Matt starts, vacant eyes flicking upwards. “I can explain–”

Your voice hushes to a whisper. “Don’t worry about it, Matty, j-just… just c’mere, okay?”

The sound of Frank’s belt being unbuckled makes your breath catch in your throat, the clinking of metal ringing faintly in your ears as your fingers graze the deep vee lines on Matt’s hips. You watch as Matt sucks his cheeks in, cock twitching against the fabric of his slacks as you hook yourself into his waistband, pulling him closer to you by his belt.

Your mouth melts against his before you turn to Frank, who you know is desperate for attention from the way his arousal presses hard into your back. His tongue slips against yours, hand curving your jaw, tracing the contours of your face before it settles on your breast, drawing out a stifled moan as he rolls your nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

“Alright Red,” Frank pants into your mouth, “I’m done being nice.”

Matt laughs scornfully as he kisses your neck hungrily, reaching around to your aching cunt once more.

Frank grunts as you palm him over his underwear, throwing his head back at the sensitivity of your touch. “Baby, did he make you cum good?”

You gulp, nodding as Frank smacks Matt’s hand away, rough fingers taking residence on your clit. “Yeah, Frank.”

He flashes you a cheeky grin. “Really? ‘Cause that was altar boy’s first time touchin’ a pussy.”

Matt puffs his chest out, striding forward. “Oh, you–”

Frank offers Matt nothing but a smug laugh as he picks you up over his shoulder, fingers digging into your waist as he carries you to the couch like you weigh nothing. Goosebumps erupt all over you as the cool leather makes contact with your skin, then as Frank knocks your knees apart with the push of a hand. A chill runs down your spine as you bare yourself to them, and although you know Matt can’t see you spread out like you want him to, you get the idea he knows exactly what’s going on; maybe the scent of your heightened arousal is easier for him to pick up.

“I haven’t let you off the hook, Castle,” Matt snarls. “You and me? After this we’re gonna settle it our way, yeah?”

“If it makes you sleep better at night, then yeah,” Frank retorts, head settling in between your legs.

Matt curses under his breath, fists coming up to press against his forehead. “Okay– just, fine. Just describe her to me Frank? Can you do that, then we’re even?”

“For now.”

“Fine, for now.”

You wiggle up on the couch, propping yourself up by your elbows as Frank flares his nostrils, inhaling you before him. “Fuck Red… the way she’s lyin’ on her back, spread out like this…”

Matt shudders as he palms himself, nodding.

You feel yourself heating up as you continue listening. “And she’s– she’s fucking drippin’, God, fuck.”

“Yeah?” Matt pants, shrugging off his slacks, hand closing around his cock as it springs free, tip leaking with precum. “Keep going.”

“And now, I’m gonna lick her pretty little clit.” Frank looks into your eyes, lips pressed together in a hard line. “You want me to do that for you, baby?”

The way your breath shakes as you say ‘yes’ makes the both of them smirk.

Then, Frank’s tongue flattens against your clit, drawing from you a sound you’ve only ever made while fantasising about them, only in the privacy of your bedroom, of your shower, and wherever else you’ve thought about them. Your back arches as he licks wet circles into you, pressure feeling like velvet on the most sensitive part of your body.

Matt finds a spot next to you as he strokes himself, eyes squeezed shut as the sounds you make travel through his body. You reach out, wrapping your hand around his cock as he leans over to play with your tits, marvelling at the thick length before you, at the way it looks like it was made for your pleasure.

‘Come here, Matt. You’re begging to be sucked’ are all the words you can manage in between moans, but he comes up right next to you, slapping his tip on your tongue. He groans as you lick along the underside of him, along the prominent vein that pulsates with every touch. He lets out a half-cry as you seal your mouth over him, taking him in so deep that he hits the back of your throat.

You start to bob your head, hand coming up to work his shaft in tandem, but Frank’s tongue slipping itself into the warmest, wettest part of you breaks you wholly, head tipping back as your peak sails through you.

Mouth and chin glistening with your cum, Frank looks up at you smugly, watching your erratic breathing as you come down from your high. He wipes his mouth before pushing off the couch to take his underwear off, cock so hard it slaps against his stomach. Your mouth goes dry at the girth, legs crossing over from the thought of him stretching you out; the pain that’ll give way to pleasure.

You get off the couch to kneel between them both, rug under your knees semi-cushioning you from the hardwood floor. A shudder runs through your body as you look up at them, standing tall over you, every hard contour of muscle illuminated in the dim light of the apartment. Pupils dilated and mind buzzing with the thought of every single thing you’d like to do to their bodies, you reach upwards, hands closing around their cocks, throbbing and warm under your touch. Your strokes are languid as you relish in the sounds that tumble from their mouths, string of curses music to your ears.

As your pace quickens, Matt tangles a hand in your hair. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this for,” he says, jerking your head back ever-so-slightly at the jolt of pleasure that runs through his body.

“Hmm,” you chuckle, flattening your tongue on his head, the half-howl half-cry he gives you making your legs shake. “And what about you, Frank?” You look up at him with innocent eyes as you shift to his cock, coating him in your saliva as he fucks the back of your throat.

He ruts into your mouth, grunting the words out. “Ever since I first laid eyes on you, darlin’.”

You move back to Matt, hand gliding easier along Frank’s length with the help of your spit, licking the underside of him before you take him all into your mouth. “Did you ever think this was gonna happen?”

Frank laughs as you push them together closer to you, taking turns to blow them. “You should see Red, jerkin’ himself to the thought of you.”

Frank jabs Matt in the chest lightly. “He’s not quiet about it.”

Matt turns red in the darkness, pursing his lips as his cock hits a spot at the back of your throat, making you gag. “Oh and what about you, Castle?”

Frank’s voice is gruff as he reaches down to play with your nipples. “Oh shut it, Red.”

You render them speechless for a second as you stuff them both into your mouth, stretching your lips to fit them in as much as possible. They’re big, bigger than you’ve ever had, so they barely fit, but God, you’re so good, trying to please them both at the same time.

“Fuck,” they curse, voices dropping an octave, Matt’s hand coiling tighter in your hair. Tears spill down your cheeks as you get sloppier, strings of saliva following you from one cock to the other.

“I can hear you,” – Matt pants – “saying her name in the shower.”

“Yeah, so? Maybe I did, once or twice.”

“No, no, no,” Matt laughs, “Not once or twice. All the damn time.”

Frank growls as Matt opens his mouth, fake moaning your name brazenly. “Cum for me darlin’, cum for m–”

A well placed kick to Matt’s ankle shuts him up, making him stumble backwards. “Yeah, okay, now I’m gonna say that to her for real.”

Frank shuffles behind you, bending you over the coffee table, pinning your outstretched arms at the wrists. The rug burn on your knees makes you hiss, but the resounding smack on your ass distracts you from the pain. It’s soothed by Frank’s wet cock slapping gently against his handprint, and then the trail of kisses he leaves from the welt to your pussy. He licks a broad stripe up your folds before plunging his fingers inside you, tongue exploring every part of you to see what sounds you make, what you like… what’s gonna get you to your next orgasm.

You let out a sharp exhale as you feel Frank being shoved away, the night air cold on your bare pussy, but you’re sent straight back to heaven as Matt’s mouth meets your core, tongue slipping inside your entrance as he spreads you apart with his hands. You recognise him by the way he eats you; he’s so much more gentler than Frank, taking his time with you as he worships your body.

But you’re not ready for the sensation of Frank lapping at your clit while Matt tongue-fucks your hole, the mewls and whimpers falling from your lips spurring them on to lick faster, prod deeper. You feel the pressure behind your stomach building to a crescendo, one that’s broken apart as you hear the sound of scuffling behind you, turning to see that Frank’s put Matt in a headlock.

Your eyes roll backwards in annoyance, frustrated at the way they’ve left you high and dry, a mix of your cum and their saliva dripping down your thighs and no orgasm to match.

“Darlin’?” Frank calls, slamming his hands on Matt’s chest.

“Yes, Frank?” you mumble, stretching your back over the coffee table.

“You want my cock?”

“Yes.”

In a flurry, Frank gets Matt flat on the ground enough that he can’t rise up to retaliate, not quickly at least, before pushing himself right into you. The combination of his thick girth and length makes you sweat, makes your eyes lull back in your head; the burn of the stretch slowly giving way to pleasure as he grinds into you.

He pulls back, far enough that you feel only the tip of him remaining inside, before slamming his hips into yours. You fall apart instantly as he drives his cock into that spot inside you, walls clenching and back arching as you pulsate around him.

Matt gets up, feet poised into a stance that screams ‘I’m gonna fucking kill you, Frank.’

“Did you? Did you just make her –”

“You’re goddamn right I did.”

Matt lets out an angry sigh before he helps you up, leading you to the dining table. He hoists you up on the table, brushing your hair to the side before grinning in your ear, every word dripping with want. “Alright sweetheart, here’s what’s gonna happen okay? I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve. None of that bullshit Castle’s been giving to you this whole time.”

The quiver in your breath makes him chuckle. “Ready for me to fuck that pretty pussy of yours?”

He drags his teeth along your pulse as you murmur ‘yes’ in his ear, nipping at the bruises Frank’s already left on your neck. You dig your nails into his shoulder as he traces himself on your folds, teasing you until you squeeze him, desperate for the gratification you know his cock will provide.

Frank comes up beside you, bending down to swirl his tongue over your nipple, fingers featherlight on your clit as he rubs it in small circles. You bite down on your bottom lip as Matt guides himself inside you, pushing until he can’t go any deeper, Frank’s fingers still wedged in between you.

He grits his teeth as he fucks you, one hand on your waist and the other wrapped around your thigh, the wet squelches of his thrusts almost too much for him to bear. Matt isn’t as girthy as Frank, but he reaches the deepest parts of you effortlessly, pistoning himself at an angle that makes you cry out his name. The way he drills himself into you echoes throughout the room, the sound of his hips snapping against yours the only thing you can focus on before you throw your head back, exploding on him.

Matt’s cocky grin makes you weak as he pulls out, chin levelling into Frank’s glowering stare. He brandishes his hands in front of him, palms pointed to you as if to say, ‘your turn now’.

Frank huffs at Matt as he scoops his hands under your ass, pulling you closer to the edge of the table. He wastes no time in filling your body with his, bending his knees as he drives himself upwards. You’re cockdumb at this point, eyes half-lidded and utterly glazed over, dopey smile the only thing you can muster as Matt tilts your chin up to his, kissing you hungrily as you moan into his mouth. Every thrust pulls from you a little mumble of unintelligible words, every nerve of yours firing at rates you didn’t think possible.

“Who’s winning, baby? Me or Frank?” Matt purrs, tongue scraping along your bottom lip.

“You’re b– fuck! Fuck, Frank!” – you say, in between his ruthless thrusts and the wicked gleam from his smile – “You’re both so good.”

You clench so tightly that Frank pops out of you for a second, but he doesn’t wait a beat to stuff himself back into you, continuing the relentless pace you know will have you ripped apart within minutes.

“That’s not good enough for us, darlin’,” Frank grits his teeth, hands digging into your ass.

“Sweetheart, I can’t even see and I know he’s not fucking you right.”

Frank snarls at Matt, swatting him out of the way as he lifts you onto his cock, off the table. Gripping your lower back, he pumps into you harder, the new angle making you want to tip your head back and howl. Ecstasy shoots through your veins as he carries you to the bedroom, cock still buried deep inside you.

He rakes his nails up your back as he uses your waist as leverage, moving you up and down on his cock with almost no effort at all.

“Yeah darlin’,” he groans, “You feel so fuckin’ good for me, you know that?”

You whimper in response, kissing him to muffle the cry that builds up from within… and your peak sails through your body, every muscle going taut, toes curling, fingernails leaving marks on his shoulders as your overstimulated body responds to his pleasure.

He lowers you on the bed, bracketing your head with his forearms, languid kisses matching the pace of his hips. You can feel every inch of him as he thrusts into you, body expanding to accommodate him as he stills inside.

“You’re fucking infuriating, Castle,” Matt barks, standing over the two of you as he strokes himself.

“Yeah, well, if you ain’t strong enough to fuck her standing, just say so,” Frank chuckles mirthlessly, coaxing you over the edge once more.

“You didn’t give me the goddamn chance!”

“Chance?” Frank spits, squeezing one of your tits, mattress dipping as he gets off the bed. “Oh by all means Red, be my guest.”

You’re caught between a gasp and a sharp exhale as fury embeds itself in Matt’s face, lips contorting into a snarl. You’ve never seen this side of him before; this dark edge simultaneously scaring you and turning you on more than you already are.

Something snaps in Matt.

He moves so quickly you almost miss it, akin to lightning flashing in a thunderstorm, pile-driving Frank into the bed so hard it’s a tangle of limbs and testosterone. Frank hits the bed, hard, hissing as Matt’s fist makes contact with his jaw, and then…

The soft splintering of wood, pricking Matt’s ears, sending him on high alert.

And the bed breaks. Two out of four legs collapsing in on themselves, the entire bed sinking on one side, catching all three of you off guard.

“Oops,” Matt grimaces, sheepish smile adorning his face.

Frank clicks his tongue, shaking his head at the broken bed as he gets up to his feet. “Goddamn it, Red. Really had to let your anger get the better of ‘ya, huh?”

You don’t care that your words are slurring a little. You’re cockdazed, and they better learn how to deal with it real fast. “Oh my God. You know what? I’m so sick of– I should’ve never made this bet if it was gonna get you two riled up like this–”

You wobble as you stand up, scowl scrunching your nose as you bare your teeth. “I’m so–”

Matt shuts you up with a kiss, not caring that your teeth clash a little, pulling you close to him by the ass. The feeling of his hard cock pressed up against your stomach melts you from within, drawing out a moan you can’t bite back.

“You’re right, sweetheart. We’re sorry,” Matt murmurs, tangling his fingers in the back of your head.

“Yeah darlin’, he’s right. We can get uh… a little competitive,” Frank lowers his voice, coming up behind you to press his kisses into your neck.

You scoff, but it’s quickly replaced by a soft sound, one that indicates you’re far from being done.

“I dunno, Red, you think she still wants us?” Frank grits, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Oh yeah,” Matt smirks, rubbing his cock on your clit, “I think she does.”

“I promise we’re gonna make it up to you, alright?” Frank teases, running his finger over the curve of your jaw. “Whatcha say, Red, wanna stuff her and make her scream for us?”

Matt’s devious smirk grows larger. “Only if she’s fine with it.”

He tips your chin upwards, the action exposing your neck enough so Frank can close his hand around it. “Are you fine with that?”

“You got some making up to do, gentlemen.”

“S’that a yes?” they say together.

“Yes.”

“Well, the bed is broken,” Matt sniffs the air, “but, we have all night and the entire apartment to explore, right?”

Matt’s grin is different now. Devilish.

And more so when Frank reciprocates it, eyes glinting with a feral hunger. “You’re damn right.”

#matt murdock #matt murdock smut #frank castle #frank castle smut #frank castle x reader smut #the punisher #matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle x matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader x matt murdock #matt murdock x reader x frank castle #rhi's mutuals 💗#daredevil #rhi responds 💌#saintmurd0ck 200 milestone celebration #rhi writes 💻#x reader

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dyns33 · 2 months

Text

The Moms 4

Matt, Frank, Y/N and Peter were not ready for the blip.

I wanted to do another Matt x Reader x Frank, so the moms are back.

Reader doesn't have a gender here. They are all Peter's moms, that's it.

They weren't always together.

Of course they weren't always together, since they weren't really a family. Matt had his job, Frank was a wanted criminal, Peter had his aunt plus the school, and Y/N loved their independence.

They called each other the spider's 'moms', and they sometimes shared a bed, but they had never really discussed what that meant. Really meant.

This was not surprising.

The Devil had taken a long time to let them approach, focusing on his mission of protecting the city, and convinced that he was ruining the lives of everyone who approached him.

Frank didn't share this belief, but there were times when his gaze would wander into space as Peter spoke to him, and everyone knew he was thinking about his wife and children.

Y/N had no family. They had never had a family and they weren't sure how to behave in this situation. But everything seemed to be going well, so none of them had broached the subject of terminology, or the future.

It was a perfectly normal day when it happened.

Peter was at school, Matt was working, and Y/N had decided to follow Frank to prevent him from killing too many people while trying to dismantle an arms sales ring. Of course there had been problems, they had both almost been killed several times, and the Punisher was absolutely not happy when he returned to his hideout, yelling at Y/N like they were a stupid child.

No, not really, because Frank never yelled at children, even stupid ones, not even at Peter. It was just for Matt and Y/N.

“Do you realize you could have taken a bullet to the head ?!”

"Thanks, I was there. I was also there when that guy tried to stab you, and when another one threw a grenade at you, and when the last one wanted to hang you ! Don't try to lecture me , hypocryt !”

“Maybe all this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been there !”

“I saved your life !”

"No, you distracted me. If I hadn't had to check that you weren't in danger, I would have been more focused, and I wouldn't have gotten caught !"

"You don't know ! You could have died too, and I would have learned of your death on television ! What would Matt have said ? How would Peter have reacted ? Who would take care of Max ?"

“Oh, shut up !” Frank growled, throwing his weapons on the couch, before going into the bathroom to calm down and wash the blood off his face.

When he came back into the room, Y/N was gone. Typical, he thought at the time, considering he was right. He was always right to be worried and annoyed when the pup, Red, and the kid were in his legs, in danger of being hurt or worse, and why ?

Their methods were not effective. He was the only one who could truly protect the city. To be able to protect them.

Frank sighed as his phone rang. He didn't want to talk tonight, he was too tired. But the phone rang again and again, and when he saw Matt's name, he knew he couldn't ignore it. Red never called without having a good reason.

“… Frank ?” he asked in a small voice, almost a whisper, full of doubt and fear, which was unlike him.

"A problem, Red ? Because I just got back from a mission and I'm exhausted."

"… You're alright ?"

"Yes. Are you hurt ? In a trash can ?"

"… You didn't see the news. There was an attack. Aliens, like in 2012. The Avengers confronted them, they quickly left, but… Something happened afterwards."

“Red, spill the beans.”

"Foggy and Karen… They were there, and then all of a sudden I was alone in the office. I heard… I heard them all disappear, Frank. Suddenly. I tried to contact them, but nothing. Peter doesn't answer, neither does Y/N. Are they with you ?"

Everything Matt was saying made no sense to Frank, but it was clear that he was about to have a panic attack, so he did his best to reassure him, telling him that they would find what that it had happened, that Peter was on a school trip, and that Y/N had just left home after a slight argument.

"Are you sure ? Can you call them ?"

"Yeah. But I'll join you, okay ? You don't move."

Obviously, the Devil wasn't the only one panicking. No one paid attention to Frank as he made his way to Hell's Kitchen, while he didn't really bother to hide, everyone was too busy shouting the names of people who also seemed to have disappeared.

In his office, Matt was on the floor, shaking, and still trying to contact his friends, and the kid, and Y/N. But no one answered.

"They were with you, you swear ? Y/N is fine, and Peter just can't answer, and we're going to find out where Karen is, and Foggy, and everyone else ? You promise me that, Frank ?"

"Yes, Red. I promise." He said, hoping he really believed it so it wasn't a lie, while hugging Murdock.

In the end, Peter wasn't on a school trip. He followed Stark to the alien ship, and he didn't come back. Y/N was unreachable, but after mourning his wife who had also disappeared, Micro had confirmed that the pup had never left the hideout.

Five years passed without it being possible to clearly explain what had happened, or if there was any way to bring everyone back. They were always together, and as soon as one called, the other came right away, but something was missing.

Forever a martyr, Matt couldn't bear the idea of being left behind when almost everyone he loved was gone. It wasn't fair. This had to be his fault, one way or another, and he had to spend even more time than before in the suit, putting himself in danger to save others.

He wasn't listening to Frank who he was trying to reason with. On the other hand, Red was furious that he refused to accompany him on his patrols. He didn't understand why the Punisher wouldn't help him clean up the streets.

It was clear that Matt was losing his mind a little, lost in his grief and spiraling dangerously. There even came a time when he was willing to use Frank's methods, if it would get him to react.

"It's out of the question, Red ! I'm killing people, you're yelling at me and saying that's not the solution !"

"What does that matter ?! Maybe you're right !"

"Stop… I don't want to do this…"

"Do what ?! Frank, what ?!"

“I don’t want us to fight.”

The last time Frank had fought with someone he cared for, telling them to shut up, they had disappeared. If he had been less stupid, he would have hugged Y/N, happy that they were safe after completing their job, and they would have met Matt at his apartment to spend the night.

But he preferred to get angry, and that was the last time he saw them. He was afraid it would happen again with Red.

So he didn't shout. He refused to let him sink, and to come with him to this bottomless hole, because he had already been there after Maria's death, and he knew what would happen if one of them didn't stay strong.

When Matt wasn't yelling at him, and there were no more crimes to fight, he would stay in his arms, crying until he fell asleep.

“I miss them… Foggy, Karen, Peter… Y/N… I should have protected them.”

"There was nothing you could do, Matty. Nothing at all. It's not your fault. I… Maybe I could have saved Y/N, if I hadn't been such an idiot."

"No. I was right next to Foggy… When I felt something was wrong, I reached out and passed through his arm… Maybe it's for the best that you were not present at this."

The days and nights ended up being the same. Red was losing his mind, losing his faith, he was screaming, he was crying, and Frank didn't know what to do. He saw himself after the murders of his wife and children, he understood how Murdock felt, and he knew there was nothing he could do except be there.

Red had also experienced this, with his father, when he was a kid. No one had ever really been able to calm young Matthew's mind about this.

Not putting himself in danger helped a little, because even if he was upset at not being supported in the street, Matt seemed reassured to find him at home or in his hideout.

This time he was more upset than reassured, barking because he hadn't been able to stop a gang and it would have been useful if the Punisher had been there.

"Your problem is that you refuse to be on a team ! It's always been like that, you think the others are burdens !"

"I won't do that, Red, I already told you."

"You only think about yourself. You didn't mind killing those you thought were guilty, and now you're sitting here, while there's chaos outside. You think it doesn't concern you. But it does. Peter, and Y/N, and everyone we cared about ! We must fight for them, together !"

"Red, stop. Don't…"

"I don't understand everything, but Matt is right, you are a disaster for group work."

The screaming stopped right away, Red freezing in the middle of the room and Frank wondering if he too had finally gone crazy, as he stared at Y/N, who had just appeared in the very spot they were standing the last time they had seen them.

As if everything was perfectly normal, the pup defended Matt, even if it had to be recognized that Red was also not always good at teaming up.

Their phones then started ringing, Matt's screaming Foggy's name, Micro asking Frank if he was watching the news, and music from Y/N's indicating that it was Peter calling.

Matt's sob was the first thing to break the silence. He almost fell running towards Y/N, who hugged him with a grimace, looking at Frank with eyes full of incomprehension.

It took a little longer for the Punisher to remember how to breathe and move, moving forward to join them.

"… What is happening ?" Y/N whispered, continuing to stroke Murdock's hair to try to calm him down, as he repeated over and over that he was sorry, thanking the Lord.

Frank didn't know whether to scoff or join him in his prayers. After what had happened to his family, he had learned to live with grief, or at least survive, his body still moving. After the blip, he had stayed for Matt, for the few people who counted on him, but a part of him had been broken again.

"I don't know how to say it, pup. You disappeared for 5 years. Half the population disappeared."

"… What ? No. No, it's not funny, Frank. Don't say that."

"You were gone. But you're here now." he said with a trembling voice, doing his best to stay strong, and hold on, to allow them to break down without fear.

"Sweetheart… Sweetheart, I will never leave you again. I will protect you, I will protect everyone."

"Breathe, Red. Breathe. I'll… I'll tell Foggy and Karen that you'll meet them later. I'll tell Peter where to find us."

"No. Stay." Matt pleaded, grabbing his arm with one hand, while keeping the other around Y/N to make sure they weren't going to disappear again.

They stayed together until the Devil had completely regained his calm, accepting the idea that the world would not turn upside down if he relaxed. A bit ashamed, he pouted while trying to hide his tears, getting up to call his friends, but remaining in the room anyway, one ear turned towards them.

It was Peter who gave them the most explanation when they managed to reach him. The Avengers had found a way to bring everyone back, they had fought Thanos again, there had been deaths, but he was not injured. In any case, that was the information they understood, among the teenager's much too rapid flow of words.

"Where are you, kid ?"

"Oh, I'm with Miss Potts. Or Mrs. Stark ? I don't know if they got married. They have a daughter now ! I want to help, but I also have to go see May, and Ned. MJ ! Okay damn, I have to call lots of people ! I'll come see you as soon as I'm in New York ! I'll send you messages, I promise !"

The Spider kept his promise, no doubt knowing how much they must have suffered, sending them a message almost every ten minutes to keep them informed of the progress of his journey, until he came through the window of hideout.

He didn't have time to say he was there, Matt immediately threw himself at him to hug him, followed by Frank.

Only Y/N stayed in their corner, watching them. They didn't understand. They remembered arguing with Castle after a mission, and then Frank was fighting with Matt. There was nothing logical, and nothing sad either. Five years. They couldn't understand that they were talking about five years.

“…Mom ?” Peter asked shyly, bringing them out of their trance. Y/N got a better look at them, who were hugging each other tightly. But it wasn't complete, not yet, and Peter's wet eyes were enough to know what they needed to do.

Nothing really changed after that. They did not have a long discussion. But they knew they were a family, and that it meant something when Frank patted Matt's head and smiled, when Murdock came to sleep at Y/N's house even though he hated the sheets, or when Y/N called Castle to talk about their day.

And in the end, without them realizing it, they ended up almost always being together.

#daredevil #punisher #matt murdock #frank castle #peter parker #matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader #matt murdock x frank castle #matt murdock x reader x frank castle #spidermoms

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pedrito-friskito · 2 years

Note

for the numbered smut prompt thing;

39 and 40! ("It's not my fault you keep turning me on" & "you look so good with my hands wrapped around your neck")

w either frank or matt maybe 👀 -🐹

okay nonnie….you…I….I MAKE NO APOLOGIES FOR THIS ONE.

you said frank OR matt and my feral fucking brain said NOPE BOTH and I love the prompts but “you look so good” doesn’t fit with our darling matt murdock exactly sooooooo here we go

absolute FILTH under the cut (threesome, dp, fingering, the whole big show — or most of it at least, i regret NOTHING)

((also - tagging all my matt AND frank babies under the cut, but heed the above and DNI if it’s not your thing - FAIR WARNING))

🔥friday night fever!🔥

How is it possible for something to feel like far too much and not nearly enough, all at once?

You knew what you were getting into, agreeing to this. You’d had days to mull it over, both of them telling you more than once that there was absolutely no pressure, that the decision was completely up to you. The notion was far too appealing to pass up, and you’d be lying if you said the thought hadn’t crossed your mind once before, a lavish daydream to indulge in when the man himself wasn’t around to satisfy you.

It had shocked you, in truth, when the idea was first proposed. Matt has always had a bit of a possessive streak in him, so hearing that he was on board with it, that he was willing to share you, just for the night, it sent your pulse racing. Afterwards, after Frank had left and it was just the two of you alone in the apartment, he’d sidled closer to you on the couch, lips close to your ear and hand curling around your thigh.

“Think it over, sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing the soft spot beneath your ear, making your thighs clench together, desperate to relieve the pressure you could already feel building. “I can tell what’s it’s doing to you, how excited you are. It’s okay. I don’t mind sharing, letting him pleasure you, too. Just this once.” He smirked against your skin. “This is about you, and Castle…knows what he’s doing. I trust him.” A gentle nip at your pulse. “I trust you.”

And so you had, you thought it over. You thought long and hard about it, what it meant, the boundaries you wanted set, every single thing you would and wouldn’t agree to. Matt knew your limits, had probably discussed them with Frank before they even mentioned this to you, but still, you wanted to be clear. You didn’t want any lines crossed.

Like Matt said, just this once.

Your only worry, is that once wouldn’t be enough. For any of you.

Frank Castle is the polar opposite of Matthew Murdock, in every sense of the word. Brash where Matt is methodical, broody where Matt is amiable, violent where Matt is…less violent. You knew the stories, the details of what Daredevil and the Punisher had gone through, the blood that had been spilled and the revenge that had been sought. You knew tidbits of Frank Castle’s past, enough to make your heart ache for the man, what he’d been through, what he’d seen. Things no person should be made to endure. And he’s friendly, surprisingly so, easy to talk to and easier to joke with, poking fun at Matt as the two of you ate dinner at that Italian place down on 42rd Street, bottles of wine emptying faster than usual, conversation going well into the night, until the waiter had to gently remind you that the kitchen was closing and the dining room would soon follow.

“Quite the lady you have here, Red,” Frank had said, grinning wide at you as you walked out of the restaurant, you tucked under Matt’s arm, the three of you hiding from the rain under the restaurant’s awning. “You’re a lucky man.”

“The luckiest,” Matt had agreed, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It was good to see you, Castle.”

“You too, Red,” Frank replied, reaching for your hand, lifting it to his mouth and kissing your knuckles. He jutted his chin towards Matt. “Take care of this one, will ya, doll? He’s a special guy.”

You watched him walk away, watched the back of Frank disappear into the rainy New York night, and Matt had just chuckled. “He’s good looking, isn’t he?”

“What?” you’d sputtered, the wine and embarrassment making your face heat, turning on your heel and starting in the direction of Matt’s apartment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Your heartbeat tells me all I need to know, sweetheart,” he said, catching up to you easily, threading his arm through yours. “It’s okay, honest. Foggy always said I had a knack for attracting pretty girls, maybe it works both ways.”

He hadn’t said anything more, though you’d rethought the conversation for weeks. Weeks of mulling over your interaction with Frank, the gentleness so clearly hidden behind a menacing exterior, the easy way in which he and Matt spoke, the obvious bond between them.

And then, a proposition.

The proposition.

You’re still worried, that once won’t be enough. You said as much, in the same breath that you’d agreed to their idea. Frank’s smile had widened, and Matt had adjusted himself in his seat, throat bobbing as he said, “Well, there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

There had been a brief conversation about scheduling another night, blocking off a Friday night where you could have dinner again, drink your fill and get comfortable, but something had stopped you. Looking at the two of them, opposites but not, feeling the magnetic pull that dragged you towards both of them, your heart forever belonging to Matt but your body begging, if only this once, to belong to Frank. Your hands gripped the couch cushion furiously, nails biting into the fabric as you stared between them, each sat in a chair, Frank sprawled wide with his arms out, Matt hunched forward, hands folded in front of him.

“What about tonight?”

Frank had looked at Matt, Matt’s brow had raised ever so slowly, and that was that.

You’re not quite sure who decided on the shower, or when the button was pressed that brought them both to life, but it’s overwhelming in the best kind of way. The water is hot, pounding down onto your bodies, steam swirling through the bathroom.

One minute you were standing in the living room, toying with your hands, sure of your devious but unsure where to start, and the next you were in the bathroom, the tiles cold beneath your feet. Matt stood behind you, mouth pressed against your neck, dragging kisses along your skin while Frank stood in front of you, just watching, the muscle in his jaw ticking as Matt slowly undid the zipper on your dress.

Heat rose in your face as Matt pulled at the collar of your dress, nudging it down your front, unhooking your bra at the same time, pushing all the fabric away, towards your hips. Frank was stoic, silent, giving nothing away as he watched. You could feel Matt’s body behind you, the tell-tale hardness prodding at your backside. His hands roved your body as they always did, like no one was watching. There was something in Frank’s gaze, something curious, and you realized he was watching Matt’s hands, watching where he touched and how he did so, cataloguing your body and tracing your outline.

You’d hissed when Matt’s hand cupped your breast, thumb swiping over your nipple and squeezing lightly. At the same time, his hips rolled into your ass, cock straining against his zipper. “Matt.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he crooned in your ear, “it’s not my fault you keep turning me on.” He nipped at your earlobe. “You always do.”

It was more of a blur as both men undressed, the bathroom floor soon more fabric than tile, and while Matt walked you backwards into the shower, the water turned hot and soaking you instantly, Frank moved slower. He prowled towards you, eyes raking over your body. He stepped under the spray with you and Matt, water dripping down his broad chest, running in rivulets down his torso and legs. You were rapt, not sure where to look, your heart skipping at Matt’s attention behind you, his hands still roaming your body, and Frank’s lust-blown stare, dark eyes pinning you in place like a predator stalking it’s prey. You let your eyes drop, the heat in your face almost unbearable.

And here you are.

He closes the distance between you, one hand reaching for yours, threading your fingers together, while the other notches under your chin, lifting your gaze to his face. “Can I kiss ya, princess?” he drawls, his eyes scanning your face, lingering on your lips. Your mouth parts softly, and Frank’s eyes move over your shoulder. “That okay with you, Red?”

“Only if she says yes,” Matt says, punctuating his answer with a sharp spank to your ass, face buried in your neck. “This is about her.”

“We’re on the same page, then,” Frank agrees, and his eyes slide back to you. “Whatta ya say, pretty girl?”

You nod once, your eyes growing heavy-lidded as Matt’s hand slides between your legs from behind, fingers glancing along your inner thighs, pushing your legs a little wider to give him better access to your pussy. Frank leans forward, hand still under your chin, and you gasp into his mouth as he kisses you, Matt’s mouth sucking at your shoulders, fingers sliding into you. The sound of the shower seems thunderous, your ears nearly ringing as Frank kisses you.

It’s jarring, how different it is to kissing Matt. Harsher, in a way, which fits completely, more teeth and tongue, the fingers knocked beneath your chin turning very quickly into his hand around your throat, middle finger and thumb either side of your windpipe. Matt’s fingers brush against that devastating spot inside you, and coupled with Frank squeezing your neck lightly, your legs are shaking. You can feel yourself rushing towards that cliff, nearly dangling off of it, but you don’t want to, not just yet. This can’t be over this fast.

Frank pulls back, eyes on your face again, and the grin on his lips is feral, licking the taste of your mouth off his own. His hand doesn’t move from your throat, fingers twitching against your pulse. “Oh, you like this, don’t you?” he asks, squeezing again until you gasp, nodding sharply in his grasp. “God damn, you look so good with my hand wrapped around your neck.”

You reach behind you, turning your head to the side as Frank leans in again. His mouth drags along your jaw, and you push at Matt’s arm. He leans in to kiss your cheek as Frank’s attention moves to your neck, your collar. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“I need your cock, Matt,” you tell him, your voice nearly a whine. Frank’s fingers flex on your throat. “Please.”

��Okay, baby,” he replies, hands running down your sides, grabbing a handful of your ass as he takes his hard cock in hand, positioning himself between your legs from behind. Frank turns your head, putting your eyes on his face again, and you gasp as you feel the tip of Matt’s cock press against your entrance.

Frank’s just watching you, his gaze boring into yours, and you barely have time to react as he reaches for your other hand, pulling it down towards his cock. You let your eyes dip as your fingers wrap around him, sucking in a breath at the sight of his length. He’s got girth, not as long as Matt, but fuck, if that’s not the thickest cock you’ve ever seen. Refusing to shy away from a challenge, you pump him, the movement dragging your bodies closer together as Matt thrusts in all the way, sheathing himself inside you with a low groan.

“How’s she feel, Red?” Frank asks, his eyes still glued to your face. Your mouth drops open as Matt starts to move, hips slapping wetly against your ass, hands gripping your hips like his life depends on it.

“So good, Castle,” Matt replies, his voice high and breathless. You can feel his head pressed against your spine, his hold on your waist tightening. “You have no fucking idea. So wet.” He thrusts hard, the movement jarring you forward, but Frank holds you in place. “God, you’re squeezing me so tight, baby.”

Every breath you take sounds like a moan, and Frank’s feral grin returns, a groan stuttering past his lips as you squeeze him. “Gotta say, it’s quite the view, watching you make her fall apart like this. You know what you’re doing, Red.” You bring your hand up, twisting your wrist and curving your palm over the tip of him. “Fuck, so does she.”

Matt’s head lifts from your back, and he pulls you back onto his cock, your knees nearly buckling as the tip of his cock finds that immaculate spot inside you, the pleasure nearly making your eyes roll back.

“Oh, she liked that, Red,” Frank says. “Do it again.”

Matt does, another wet slap echoing through the bathroom, and the sound that falls out of you is somewhere between a moan and a squeal, your legs going tense as white-hot pleasure shoots down your limbs. Frank crowds closer to you, still gripping your throat, and you’re stuck watching as he brings his free hand to his mouth, pushing two fingers past his lips.

“Eyes on me, princess,” he tells you, hand disappearing from view. “Keep stroking my cock like a good girl, yeah?” You do as he says, curving your palm over his sensitive tip again, lips quirking in a grin when he groans. “Yeah, you’re a good girl.” He moves impossibly closer, just enough room between your bodies for your hand around his cock, and his, moving between your legs, right where you’re split around Matt’s cock. He drags his fingers along your hot skin, and he must touch Matt too, because you hear his harsh gasp behind you, the next thrust he gives you impossibly harder.

“Make her cum, Castle,” Matt rasps out, leaning his forehead on your shoulder, his pace unrelenting. “Rub her clit until she screams.”

Frank grins. “Don’t have to tell me twice, Red.”

You let out a high-pitched gasp as Frank’s thick fingers find your clit, rubbing a harsh circle that has your toes curling against the tile. You try to keep up your strokes, your grip tight on Frank’s cock, but it’s almost impossible to concentrate, your mind hurtling elsewhere as your body tries to comprehend the sensations, the thick press of Matt into your pussy, the targeted pleasure of Frank’s fingers on your clit.

“Hey, I said, eyes on me,” Frank commands, and you hadn’t realized you let them flutter shut, your throat hiccuping in his grip as the pleasure climbs. You reach your free hand back, curling around Matt’s hip, squeezing until your nails dig in. You have to release Frank’s cock, but he doesn’t seem to mind, his own touch growing more and more insistent, the slide of his thick fingers curling down until he’s inside you too, knuckles brushing Matt’s cock while his thumb circles your clit. “C’mon, pretty girl, you gonna cum?” he asks, squeezing your windpipe just enough.

That’s what makes you topple over the edge, the sheer intensity of the feeling, the instant weightlessness that pours over you like a tidal wave. You’ve never felt anything like this before, and you try to keep your eyes on Frank’s, you really do, but it’s no use. The pleasure wracks your body, leaving you twitching and keening in their arms. Matt’s not far behind you, cumming with a shout that’s barely muffled against your shoulder. Frank seems unfazed, keeping his fingers right where they are, and as you return to your body, you don’t miss the way his eyes glance at Matt, still lust-blown and curious.

Matt pulls out first, leaning back against the shower wall, and Frank follows a moment later, but pushes his fingers deeper first, dragging the pads along that same spot Matt had hammered into. When he pulls them from you, his skin is coated with your cum and Matt’s, the milky fluid running between his knuckles.

You grab his wrist, opening your mouth as you push his fingers past your teeth, sucking them clean, flickering your tongue over his skin. Frank just grins. “Fuck. Tell me what you want, pretty girl. You gonna take us both next?” He releases your throat, reaching around and giving your ass a quick slap. “Gonna let me in this tight ass while Red fucks your pussy again? Huh? What do you want?”

You’re heaving breaths as he pulls his fingers from your mouth, and Matt is pressed against your back a moment later, arms twining around your waist, kissing your neck again. “Tell us what you want, sweetheart,” he whispers.

You blink hard, sinking into Matt’s touch, reaching for Frank’s wrist and moving his hand back between your legs.

“More.”

—————

I have a taglist! if you’d like to be tagged in future works, please fill out this form!💕

I will reblog w/ taglists - there’s too many of you!

#friday night fever #my fics #frank castle x reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #frank castle smut #the punisher #daredevil #frank castle x matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x reader x frank castle #matt murdock x you #frank castle x you #IDK HOW ELSE TO TAG THIS CUZ I’M GOING TO HELL #😇

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amhrosina · 1 year

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An Unexpected Delight (poly!Fratt x Reader)

(OR: Matt and Frank sharing dessert before the main course ;) )

Summary: Frank wants a taste after Matt tells him how perfectly delicious you are.

a/n: im obsessed with that jon bernthal gif dont even get me STARTED on the fucking jon bernthal gif. anyways, i wrote this in a few hours, didn't send it to my beta reader AGAIN (because im posting so irregularly lmfao), and then thought 'oh i can definitely write more about reader returning the favor/reader getting absolutely plow-' oh god i got carried away again, enjoy!

(Warnings: i feel like this goes without saying but like, smut lmfao, oral (fem receiving), masturbation (a little bit from both of men), minor choking, teasing, frank and matt worship reader, praise kink i guess)

Word Count: 1.2k

This was unexpected, to say the least. If you hadn’t been witnessing it with your own eyes, you wouldn’t believe it, not even as a dream. Alas, Frank Castle’s eyes bored into yours as he stroked himself off, following the pace Matt was setting with his clever, sinful tongue against your clit. Your skin was slick with sweat, the result of relentless teasing from the two men in the room with you.

“Isn’t she pretty, Frank?” Matt lifted his lips from your clit and angled his head toward Frank, who grunted in response.

“F-Fuck, Matty.” You breathed, arching your core off the bed in a feeble attempt to reconnect to Matt’s mouth. His hands, which had been caressing the tops of your thighs, tightened around your hips, holding you in place beneath him.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Matt threw the question over his shoulder at Frank, hot breath fanning across your skin as he asked. Goosebumps skittered in its wake, and a breathy moan released from your mouth before you could stop it. “Didn’t I tell you she was perfect?” Matt pressed a soft, barely-there kiss to your mound for emphasis, eliciting a whine from deep in your chest.

“You did.” Frank’s deep voice reverberated through the room, and you suddenly felt the urge to pull him closer, to swallow the gravel in his voice, to give him the reprieve you so desperately needed as well. He stepped toward you, forgetting for a moment that you belonged to someone else, and then halted his movement.

“Red, can I…” He trailed off, swallowing thickly. His cock was swollen and angry, and your mouth watered as he stroked himself again. Matt smirked in response.

“You want to touch her?” Matt asked, licking through your folds in one swift movement. A wrangled moan escaped your throat. “You’ll let him touch you, won’t you, baby? You’ll be a good girl and show him how perfect you are for me?”

“Yes, please. I’ll be so good, Matty. So so good.” You mewled, reaching for Frank, who had stalked closer as soon as you’d agreed.

“See how she begs?” Matt pushed himself away from your cunt, allowing room for Frank to take his place. “She’ll do anything you ask, Frank. Anything.” Frank lowered himself into Matt’s previous position, mouth dangerously close to your slick cunt.

“Tell her what you want, Frank.” Matt encouraged, stroking himself a few times before caressing your cheek with his knuckles.

Frank’s fingers dug into your thighs, and it took every ounce of his self control to pull his eyes away from your dripping pussy and look up at you.

“What do you want, Frankie?” You asked, eyes trailing the curve of his shoulders beneath your knees. When you met his gaze again, his pupils were bigger than you’d ever seen them, and he looked almost in pain at your teasing.

“I want,” he began, running the tip of his nose through your folds, “to taste you. Can I?” He asked in a polite, but desperate tone. You sucked in a breath, instinctively widening your legs. Matt smirked from his position above you.

“He needs words, sweet girl.” Matt murmured, running a finger down the column of your throat. “Can he taste?”

“Please.” You begged, near tears. “Do whatever you want to me, Frankie. Use me.”

Frank couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He dipped his head down, taking your clit in his mouth and sucking before circling it with his tongue. Your vision blurred, and you couldn’t stop your hips from bucking off the bed in response. Frank’s broad shoulders weighed your hips down before you could squirm too much, and he began flicking his tongue over your clit until you were panting so hard you couldn’t see straight.

It was different than with Matt, but not a bad different. You and Matt had been fucking each other for so long that he knew your body inside and out. If he wanted to, he could make you come in less than thirty seconds (a party trick that he would sometimes do when he was feeling overly generous and wanted to make you so strung out you couldn’t function). Frank hadn’t had the luxury of eating your pussy whenever he felt like it, so he was more exploratory than Matt was. And shit did it feel good.

“I’m gonna c-” You were cut off by Matt’s large hand wrapping around your throat.

“Not yet.” He demanded, stroking himself with his other hand. “Don’t you dare come yet, pretty girl.”

“I’m so c-close.” You stuttered, trying to focus on anything other than the handsome man between your legs or the handsome man with the hand wrapped around your neck. They both made that task very, very, difficult. “Matty.” You whined, tears welling in your eyes.

“Not yet.” He gripped your throat tighter.

Frank pushed his tongue around your clit and then inside you, a pattern that successfully drove you crazy beneath him. He smirked as tears began to fall down your cheeks. You were trying so hard not to come that Frank felt himself getting close at the sight of it alone. He rutted against the bed, groaning into your pussy as the friction of the blanket sent heat firing through him. You cried harder at the sight of him rubbing himself against the comforter.

“Frankie.” You cried, sucking in a breath.

“You gonna be a good girl and come on his face, baby?” Matt squeezed your throat as he asked.

“Yes, yes, yes, please let me come. Haven’t I been a good girl, Matty? Let me come on his face. Please.” You rushed out in a single breath, rocking your hips against Frank’s mouth and nose. You were so close it was beginning to hurt.

“Come, baby.” Matt breathed, securing his hold on your throat as you tensed.

Frank’s hands tightened around your legs as you finally let yourself feel the pent up pleasure in your core. It washed over you like a wave, and all you could do was ride the pleasure out as it sparked through your entire body. Your eyes clenched shut, tears still trailing down your cheeks as your breathy moans filled the room.

Frank’s tongue didn’t disconnect from your cunt until you were a puddle in his hands, so out of breath and out of your mind that you couldn’t see straight. He pressed his cheek against your thigh, grinning up at Matt while you came back down to Earth. His chin was coated in your release, and if you weren’t so far gone, you might’ve found that fact incredibly alluring.

“You were right, Red.” He said, sighing against your warm skin, “She tastes amazing.”

Tag List (1/2):

@xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @callsign-mama @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @merleisapartygod @babyslyth @legocity2 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @deliciousfestsalad @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy @theesexystallion @scoliobean @myguiltypleasures21 @fxlsealarm @evyiione @gpenguin666 @desert-fern @day-dreaming-goddess @rayray787 @ginnysculture @ryebreadsworld @laaundromat @coacaiyne @megmastersgf

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madschiavelique · 4 months

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˖𓍯. 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐬. ★. ₊ ⭑

⟢﹒ pairing : matt murdock x audhd!reader x frank castle

⟢﹒ summary : your family is an ordeal to endure, full of disparaging remarks that make for a horrible evening. fortunately, Matt and Frank come to keep you company during the family diner and take you home to look after you.

⟢﹒ content warnings : hurt/comfort, extremely self-indulgent, reader's family are degrading, audhd reader close to breaking down, reader having sensory issues, reader getting overstimulated, the guys in this are so lovable and sweet boyfriends, afab!reader, no use of Y/N

⟢﹒ word count : 9,3k

⟢﹒ note : had quite a shitty christmas ngl, so i thought writing this piece of comfort would be helpful ! if you only want to read the comfort part, i'll place a separation by using a black divider between the hurt and comfort part. a huge thank you to my bestie @sunflowersandsapphires who proofread this <3. have a good read lovelies!

You passed a q-tip close to your eyes in the hope of correcting the curve of your make-up, trying with that scatterbrained perfectionism that accompanied you in even the most minute tasks to ensure that everything was symmetrical.

Nothing too extravagant, just something elegant, neutral, but that would do. The standard was just to look presentable, from the face to the rest of the body. Jeans, an oversized hoodie, nothing special.

This lack of personal distinction was undoubtedly due to the rejection of perception, the insistent stares, the embarrassing compliments that could suddenly put you in the spotlight tonight, an idea that made you feel profoundly uneasy.

You stepped back a little, checking to see if the much-desired symmetry had been achieved, and no sooner had you put down your utensil than you were asked to do the little cousins' make-up.

Tonight was an annual family reunion: Christmas, where aunts, uncles, grandparents and grandchildren got together over foie gras, salmon and dubious discussions. Where guests who have just left are criticised, where disparaging remarks are exchanged, and where the meal always ends up drifting into politics with more or less heated debates at the table.

You anticipated the evening, an anxious knot already forming in your stomach. You had a particular link with your family, of which the affection was strangely displayed if at all in a way you despised entirely. Every year was a different pain, a different bitter taste that lingered in your thoughts like poison, and you were not delighted to participate in this celebration when you would’ve preferred staying home.

Only one thing held you in place and convinced you that the night wouldn't be a constant and unrelenting hell: Matt and Frank were coming over.

This winter, it was the first time you would’ve been accompanied by them, and by anyone in fact. Knowing the rather strong opinions of your family, the simple idea of saying that you shared your life with two men in a more than platonic way had been dismissed a long time ago. A trouple? If that fell in the ears of one of your family members, you could be sure that you'd become the next freak of the night.

So you talked it over with the boys and came up with a plan to make sure you could bring them both along and not make a big deal of it: one of them would pretend to be your boyfriend, while the other would just be your friend that had nothing better to do for the celebration.

The choice of boyfriend fell on Frank, and friend on Matt.

He had asked why, and you had explained that it was obviously in no way because of favouritism or anything of the sort, but rather the simple fact that he would get more compliments behind his back if he wasn't with you than if he was.

He'd frowned, but you'd had to explain to them how your family was sometimes built on clusters of shrill gossip, talking behind others' backs and later making remarks to their faces in tones of passive aggressiveness and wicked irony.

You also had to educate them, that no matter what was said about you tonight, not to react. They'd probably be itching to, it would be like a thread sticking out, but they were forbidden to pull on it.

You looked at the clock, seven past. You'd texted Frank to ask where they were and when they'd arrive. Eight thirty had been their reply, and you took a deep breath. An hour and a half to go.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, assuring yourself everything was alright and that you were presentable enough. You can do it, you kept telling yourself, this night knows an end.

The first complications arose sooner than you thought.

First of all, you'd managed to find a decent seat in an armchair and not on a sofa. However, this seat was very close to the fireplace, where a blazing fire licked the brown logs with appetite. Very close, too close, close enough that it felt suffocating.

You moved your chair back slightly as best you could, trying not to disturb the conversation that was already well underway.

You tried to take a few snacks, perhaps some cashews, crackers or cherry tomatoes might ease your boredom and distract you from the growing heat.

You pulled out your phone, hoping that Frank and Matt would get here sooner, and would've sent a message to that effect. Or perhaps was there a notification from any of your friends, a reel, a meme, anything-

"Put your phone away, we're with the family."

You looked up, your mother watching you and taking her glass in hand with a look of dissatisfaction. In a single instant, your cheeks heat up all the more as the fire in the fireplace presses against your skin, and you gulped.

"I just wanted to check if I had any news about Matt and Frank's drive," you explained simply, gently stuffing the phone into your pocket.

"They'll arrive when they arrive, but for now, be with us."

You nodded, discreetly biting your cheek as one of your only escapes for tonight went up in smoke. You would have much preferred to be able to escape a little and block out what was going on around you, even sorting out your gallery and deleting useless pictures would have been a more pleasant and less stressful activity.

But you couldn't, and you said nothing when it was your mother's turn to pick up her own phone and connect to the speaker to play her Christmas playlist.

The children played together, which should’ve been a joy, but their overexcited screams, incessant movements and all that noise were enough to make you feel the headache setting in.

There were easily three different conversations going on around you, and your mother turned up the music in response. You waved, putting your hand in front of you as if you were lazily dribbling an invisible ball to indicate her to lower the volume, and she turned the music down a notch.

You clenched your jaw, thinking to yourself that this was a good start, even if everything else was getting harder to hold on to.

Choosing to wear a hoodie became almost a regret as the ambient heat from the fireplace worked its way up your spine to the nape of your neck, creating an unpleasant feeling. Soon enough, you had to take it all off as the first signs of nausea began to make themselves felt.

You weren't particularly comfortable with the idea, but everyone's attention was obviously diverted enough to take no notice of your actions. Except perhaps for one.

"You could have made an effort on your outfit, it's not very festive." Your mother sighed before taking a sip from her glass of champagne. "Hadn't you lost weight? It would be a shame to spoil the occasion."

You swallowed, the ground looking awfully interesting at this very moment. You knew what would have been said to you if you'd worn something more in the spirit of it, "You've got a nice body, you should wear that more often," and other remarks falling into the famous "you should insert-disobliging-action more often" category.

You should wear that more often. You should smile more often. You should come more often. But none of these requests were of the taste to be fulfilled by you tonight.

So you simply shrugged, having nothing in particular to say, and feeling your heart clench. You were stuck in this contradictory place where if you made one move slightly changing from your usual self to them, you were reprimanded on it, but if you didn’t do anything in particular, they highlighted the fact that it was disappointing you hadn’t done anything.

"Well, we're delighted to have you with us tonight!" chuckled an uncle, raising his glass to you.

"It sure makes a change from knowing she's in her cave," chuckles an aunt.

You smile, but there's no warmth behind the gesture. By cave, they mean your bedroom. Your habit of isolating yourself had brought you a certain reputation within your family, and for years now it has been a recurring joke. They laughed about it every time, but you saw it more as a broken record replaying the same snippet of music... speaking of which, your mother turned up the sound again, thinking you wouldn't notice.

"Could you turn it down please? It's really loud." you ask politely, in the most calm, composed and polite tone you could produce at the moment.

"Oh come on," your mother grumbles, rolling her eyes, "we're allowed to have fun."

She turned up the volume once more, and finally someone other than you told her it was too loud. Reluctantly, she lowered the sound slightly, but it was still not enough for you. Your hands lodge over your ears, hoping with all your heart that this would ease the strain on your eardrums.

Conversations sought to drown out the music, each member pushing their voice for any discussion. Kids were still running around, chasing one another by screaming at each other, and adjusting your eyes on anything without the certainty of getting a headache felt like mission impossible.

Your hands on your ears helped slightly, and it was only then that your mother looked at you with a surprised expression.

"Does it really hurt?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Yes," you nodded, "it really does."

Finally, she turned it down, and you exhaled as the others resumed a more appropriate though still higher volume of discussion than you'd prefer. The kids had been changed of room, making it more bearable for you to live through.

"So, what have you been up to lately?" asks one of your grandparents, "how's work?"

Your cheeks heat up, the discussion now turned towards you, prompting you to take your glass in hand just to have something to quench your throat suddenly arid as the sahara.

"Very well, business is good." you smiled falsely, forcing your face to display the features they might normally expect to see.

"Great, and those two guests coming tonight, do you know them from work?"

How could you say that the circumstances in which you had met these two men were in a situation that included Frank and Matt falling into your flat, bloodied, and asking you for help?

Karen, who you’d known through college, had advised them of your address, and when the first opportunity came up, they had taken the chance to make the most exceptional introduction you'd ever had in your life : stumbling at your place with cuts all around

"In a way, yes," you replied, pressing your lips into a thin line.

"One of them's her boyfriend, and the other's a lawyer," your mother informed the others, who seemed delighted by your seemingly noble company.

It's a good thing the flames in the fireplace were dying down and that it wasn't so hot anymore, because both your cheeks felt like you were resting the back of your hand on hot embers. It was a never-ending embarrassment to have such behaviour around you, saying aloud everything regarding you without you consenting to any information to be given. Wherever ridiculous actions or the slightest subject that was even a little new and out of their boredom-inducing daily lives occurred, they swarmed.

Nevertheless, the conversation drifted away to your delight, and at the mention of your loves, you couldn't stop thinking about them. You would have liked to check the time, to see if they had any problems on the way that might have delayed them, but you knew that such conduct was likely to earn you an additional remark about the use of your telephone. After all, she could find openings as easily as water in a colander.

Just then, a dance song began to play which, objectively, had nothing to do with the Christmas spirit. So everyone stood up, moving the chairs to get more room, and you helped in this cacophony of moved furniture.

You stood to one side as everyone got to the centre of the room, their dance steps resembling a veritable collective epileptic seizure of which you had no desire to become another member.

You took the opportunity to take refuge in the bathroom, carefully closing the door behind you and sitting down on the toilet to take a deep breath. The after-effects of all these mixed sensations were beginning to make themselves known.

Your body was as taut as a bowstring, as if every muscle had contracted from a high fall, and it felt as if releasing all the tension would break you in thousands of small pieces. Your heart wasn't beating particularly fast, but it was beating hard, and you couldn't ignore it.

You took a deep breath, letting your head fall back as you closed your eyes. Your throat and chest were tight, so tight that you felt like crying right now. But you couldn't, it would be too noticeable once you got out of here, and you didn't want to give them the pleasure of having an extra subject to talk about at the end of the evening once you'd gone. It would do them too much honour, and you couldn't afford to give them any.

You were so tired, you couldn't take it any more, the fatigue coursing through your body like you'd run a marathon of shame. You breathed in again, feeling your previously tight chest slowly relax as your body was jolting a bit from the unease.

This wouldn't last forever. By the end of the evening, after dessert, you wouldn't be in this house surrounded by all these people, all these eyes, all these mouths, all this noise.

That's when your phone buzzed, and without missing a beat, you pulled it out of your pocket. On the screen was a single message from Frank that gave you tremendous reassurance:

We're here.

You bit your lip, nodding slowly. One last breath for courage and you stood up, opening the door of the bathroom. Without anyone noticing, you grabbed your hoodie and stepped outside into the cool of the night.

The sudden chill brought you unparalleled comfort, biting your cheeks hot with frustration and embarrassment. Perhaps the night would heal you, that its cool caress would apply its balm of softness to all that pressure and relieve you of your tension.

You turned your key ring to find the one for the gate a little further on, trying to walk and not sprint to it. Inserting the key almost frantically but controlling your excitement and relief at their presence, you opened the game.

And there they were, smiling at you.

"Evening sweetheart," Frank smiled when he saw you.

"Sorry we took so long," Matt apologised, pressing his lips together.

You looked behind you to make sure no one had followed you outside, closing the gate slightly so that you wouldn't be seen. You knew that even from here, your group of three could be seen as a pile of meat around which the vultures would circle, and you didn't want to risk being their next meal.

You hugged them both, relieved to have them close to you, and the suddenness and desperation in your gesture almost seemed to surprise them. They hugged you back, kissing your temple.

"Your cheeks are warm," Frank chuckled, pressing his face harder against yours, making you giggle.

"Is everything okay?" asked Matt, stroking your hair, "you're all tense."

Of course, Matt noticing every microscopic detail as usual, couldn't help but pick up on how stiff your body looked, and how the smell of stress covered your skin in the thinnest film. There was no point in lying to Matt, or pretending to divert the subject with Frank, so you sighed.

"Lots of noise, not much serenity," you replied, letting your head fall against the devil's chest.

You were trying to cherish all this a little more, because once you were back in the house, you and Matt wouldn't be able to touch each other again except perhaps to pass a plate across the table and let your fingers deliberately brush against each other.

They'd already been told by you what to expect, and even if they were prepared, they were sorry to find you like this.

"We won't stay here the whole night," Matt reassures as he wraps his arms around you, stroking your back. "Let's hope we get out of here before Frank goes so far as to take the silverware from the table and threaten anyone with the butter knife."

"You're ruining my fun, Red. Now I've got to find something more inventive," sighed the latter.

"Take the star at the top of the pine tree, it'll be sharp enough," you suggested, turning your head towards him, cheek still pressed against Matt's chest.

"See that, that's Christmas spirit," smiled Frank.

You loosened your embrace, Matt gently kissing your lips. He savoured the moment, and so did you, because this kind of proximity with him wasn't going to happen again for several hours.

"Ready?" asked Frank, letting his pointer finger form a hook to caress the skin of your cheek.

You looked at the lights further away from the house, hearing the music from here and already preparing in the second part of the night.

"Ready," you breathed in before reopening the gate and letting them through.

You felt your heart clench again, the unpleasant tingle of anxiety coursing through your veins in a fluid traffic that seemed impossible to dilute. You tried to breathe calmly, preparing yourself once again to face the suffocating interior of sounds, movements and remarks.

"Remember, if you need to take a break from all this and go outside, squeeze my hand three times, okay sweetheart ?" reminded Frank, placing his hand on the small of your back.

"Yeah," you swallowed, nodding softly as a tight little smile spread across your lips.

You'd agreed to pretend, in case things got desperate and you needed a break, that Frank was a smoker, and that you and Matt shared his ciggy break together.

All of this preparation had come from the fact your mother had passed an entire questioning about your boyfriend - or at least one of them - to prepare herself conventionally. You knew how she was, and such coaching with the guys was for the better.

Still, his hand on your back was reassuring, and made things easier to bear.

You opened the door, and everyone turned to you with a big "Ah" of satisfaction. Introductions were made as both took off their jackets. Frank remained friendly but guarded - as usual, typical Frank - and Matt seemed to bloom in this social environment like a freshly blossomed flower.

It didn't take long for most of your family to decide that they loved Matt. His well-timed humour, his natural charm, his eloquence, everything about him made him a man to be admired.

"Isn't there any way he could be your boyfriend instead?" said an aunt, approaching you as Matt and Frank continued to be introduced.

"He's way out of her league," sneered another, "they both are, actually."

You pressed your lips together, blowing falsely from your nose to feign amusement. You knew Matt could hear every little jab at you tonight, and if he was feeling any frustration, he was hiding it perfectly.

"Where did you get them? I want one too," said the first, making the other laugh.

"Might get the lawyer's phone number," she replied.

"Yours is very fine too," remarked the other, "how'd you manage to get him ?"

They both said these sentences as if their own husbands weren't in the room, and as if the possibility of you being in a relationship with one of them was a miracle, or just a huge stroke of luck.

"Through work," you replied mechanically and through clenched teeth before moving into the kitchen to help with the dishes.

You knew these sorts of remarks were to be brought up, on how you’d managed to surround yourself so well. Matt and Frank had long wondered how your confidence in yourself was so low, but maybe tonight would’ve been the perfect example as to why it was the case.

The transition to the table was almost seamless. Everyone sat down, the seating order meticulously adapted for everyone. Fortunately, you found yourself between Frank and Matt. You were inwardly grateful for the choice of decorations when you realised that the tablecloth was quite long, and that the reassuring hand Matt had just put on your thigh wouldn't be noticeable.

You breathed softly, the warmth of his hand anchoring you better in all of this and giving you something to focus on that was sweeter than any mean remarks.

Of course, with every new person around the table comes an interrogation to get to know them. Questions of all kinds followed for the boys, about their work, their activities, your aunts of course looking for answers as to how you and Frank had ended up together.

You'd worked it out and decided that Matt had introduced you to Frank and that, through your shared tastes in literature and other things, you'd ended up bonding.

"If books are the new way to getting to a man I've got some reading to do," joked one of the aunts, making the table laugh unanimously, "never thought you'd manage anything of the sort."

The pique directed at you made you feel as if you were swallowing a large ice cube with difficulty, but you covered your discomfort with an expert fake smile. Masking all that discomfort since the start of the evening was beginning to prove complicated, but you weren't going to use the smoking-break Joker just yet.

You could see in the corners of your eyes how Matt was wearing a stiff smile, and how Frank's jaw was tense. Gently reaching under the table, you took both their hands, turning to Frank with another smile that this time wasn't imbued with the polite mask you wore, but with sincerity.

"Let's just say I was lucky " to have found two such extraordinary people who fill my life with love on a daily basis, would you have finished.

You squeezed their hands, drawing small circles on their skins as they both smiled.

The starter was over, the main course continued as your stomach was refusing to let you eat anything, and the whole thing brought together discussions that made you uncomfortable to say the least. All sorts of unconscious or simply cruel racist, homophobic and even transphobic remarks were placed on the table.

You remained silent, not speaking particularly. You had no desire to take part in this kind of discussion, given how horrible the venom on each other's tongues was. You just hoped it would all be over soon, looking forward to going home with Frank and Matt.

The cousins were chatting away like fascists, one talking about Napoleon, and the old days being the best, while talking about the questionable politicians he was listening to on the radio.

The cheese arrived, and then came the little break just before dessert. They put on a film for the children, so that the adults could have a quiet chat without all the heckling.

Hearing the parents' arse jokes, you'd think they'd be fucking each other on the table if they thought it was funny. You could very well let your own sassy tongue out, say that if this aunt isn't listening to what's being said already it's because she's working out her next gossip, but you have to forgive her because she wouldn't be like this if her husband wasn't cheating on her, or maybe he's cheating on her because she's like this.

To tell the uncles that they're less likely to die from terrorism than from alcoholism, to tell one aunt to strap the kids up tight because her husband is going to be driving as if he had an autonomous car. And that you would’ve liked to finish by saying that no matter the smiles, the village fete, all it took was a small difference for everyone to see the real faces.

But you said nothing, keeping to yourself those comments that would only serve to fuel their hatred.

As Frank came up to grab another drink, your mother sat next to you on the sofa while the two boys came to be monopolised by aunts and uncles. A procession of rednecks near Frank discussing his familiarity with weapons and his military past, while the aunts were wiggling around Matt hoping to curry favour with the young lawyer.

"It's too hot in here," you murmured as you shifted a little from your mother, but she wasn't letting go and placed her head on your shoulder.

"But I want to be close to you," she said with a pout, the alcohol making her visibly affectionate.

You tensed, the desire to get away from it all running through your body, screaming under your skin. But there was nothing you could do, frozen there in the middle of it all, having to endure the situation as best you could.

The familial conversation drifted onto the subject of intellectuality, on the fact that your family was made up of nothing else, or at least for the most part. And you felt tiny, because they were generally right: they were all huge readers of the classics, who knew a lot about history, literature, philosophy and other human sciences.

All these subjects were familiar to you, because you had had to learn them, to master them in the face of the global family demand for the cultivation of excellence.

Even though you were the ugly duckling of the family, that didn't stop you sharing this knowledge and they were all aware of it. You were able to inject the conversation with valid arguments and insights you'd learned on your own that were important to the topic, and whenever the occasion to say something wise came up that you grasped, they seemed more tolerable to you.

When the discussion turned to the descendants of a painter, you were asked to verify the accuracy of certain statements. So you looked it up on your phone, but barely half a minute later, your mother couldn't resist reprimanding you:

"What did I tell you on your phone? Not when we're with the family."

Irritation from all the previous events of the evening was beginning to press down on you, and it was with some irritation that you replied:

"But I've been asked for some information."

Your voice was almost like that of a child defending themselves against someone calling them a liar, and this tone seemed to displease her when her gaze hardened.

"Don't talk to me like that, and put your phone away."

You bit the inside of your cheek so hard it felt like it was going to bleed, and said nothing as you put your phone back in your pocket while the conversation around you resumed.

You didn't meet Frank's gaze, nor did you turn to Matt, because you knew that this simple gesture would show weakness and a cry for help. However, you had made them swear not to interfere, and you remained silent for a while, trying to calm yourself down as you watched the fire ripple in the fireplace like an orange veil dancing in the wind while you fiddled with your fingers.

The tic was automatic; Matt and Frank would have preferred to have taken your hand in theirs to prevent this torment.

What irritated you most of all was the profound injustice of the whole evening. You wouldn’t say anything, and you’d be considered too silent so people would ask you questions, but once you opened your mouth they were not satisfied with your answers. You couldn’t take your own phone, when all the aunts had their own, texting to their friends and all. Children had the right to get away in another room and watch a movie, while you had to stick there doing nothing but listening to whatever was said.

You couldn’t wait for the night to come to an end.

It was time to store the presents everywhere and pretend to the children that Santa had stopped by while they were watching the movie. Everything was placed in colourful piles, and when the children were called, they ran down the stairs and began the frantic tearing of gift wrap to an orchestra of shrieks and shredding.

All the accumulated sounds made you grit your teeth, tightening your throat and making you want to cry. You could feel the limit coming, and you needed a break to prevent you from imploding.

This time you took Frank's hand and squeezed it three times. He turned to you immediately, stroking your cheek before telling Matt. As quickly as they could without looking rushed, they put on their jackets and went out after you.

The night air calmed some part of you instantly, the contrast between all the hectic ambiance inside and the calmness of the outside felt like two extreme opposite worlds living by the only separation of a door.

To make sure that even from the outside there would be no doubt about this cover, Frank had to play along by taking out a cigarette and lighting it. He seemed irritated, and the idea of that Joker card almost seemed to play a real asset in all this to calm him down.

"How the fuck do they sleep at night?" he grumbles as he puffs out his first drag, "it's like they take every opportunity they get to pull you down."

"It's alright, let it slide." you sigh, crossing your arms over your chest.

"No it's not," he continues, "I can't believe you managed to handle their company for all these years."

"Didn't have much of a choice," you breathe.

"I know you said it was bad, I just didn't imagine it was constantly so," Matt confirmed.

"If I go back there I might actually punch them in the face," Frank grumbles before taking another drag on the cigarette.

"All that's left is the presents from the adults, then the Yule log, and then we'll be off, okay?" reassured Matt, placing his hand gently on your shoulder.

The touch of his hand brought a comforting warmth, and his words managed to reassure you. You looked at them both, thinking about how it would’ve been without them : unbearable, definitely. You had barely been able to handle it before they came, but now that they were here, you felt safe, like half of the poison that was thrown at you was not as effective.

They had changed you, made you feel loved, cherished, proud. They had been trying to break these patterns, the self depreciation, the self sabotage, the lack of self confidence. They were helping you build yourself back up from the ruins everyone else had left, and you were the most grateful to the universe to had brought them in your life.

"Thank you both, for being here," you admitted, your voice almost cracking, the coolness of the night giving you a feeling of security that was enough to relax your knotted throat.

They turned towards you, their faces softening. They knew what you were going through, what you were enduring for the night, and how complicated and unpleasant it must have been until they arrived.

Frank took you in his arms, the smell of tobacco already permeating his clothes. Matt must not have been enjoying it at all, smelling that darkly sugary, smoky smell all around him, but whatever personal discomfort he was experiencing he didn't let it show.

"It's the least we can do, beautiful," he replied, stroking your back.

"We just wish we could shut their mouths," Matt agreed, holding back from participating in the embrace as you’d instructed him.

"And stop this whole group of women from praising you?" sneered Frank, which made you smile.

Matt's nose scrunched up and his bottom lip curled in disgust at the remark.

"One of them wanted to feed me appetisers, and another asked me about being blind and whether I'd mind being in a relationship with someone whose looks I can't see." he said with a sigh.

"And then?" asked Frank curiously as you both turned to face the lawyer.

"I told her that I didn't need to see to know who was good-looking, and that if I chose my relationships purely on looks, I wouldn't know true friendship or love."

"All those poetic words must have pleased her," Frank punctuated with a whistle.

"Not until I told her my grandmother wore the same perfume as her."

You and Frank both laughed softly, truly impressed at how Matt was handling all this flirting and cringe from several women altogether.

But this calm moment had to have an end, as the cigarette grew smaller and smaller by the minute. Frank broke away from your embrace to finish it and stubbed it out on the wall.

This little outing had done you a world of good. The cool night air had refreshed you, its delicate silence giving you a break from all the noise and the terrible comments from your family all the while Frank and Matt allowed you this break from constant barbs.

You returned again inside, the end of the opening of presents for the children welcoming you. And so the opening of those for the adults began, all the parcels being stored on the table in more chic and sober wrappings. The grandparents started, Frank standing behind you with one hand on your shoulder and the other holding his glass of champagne.

One by one, they all opened their presents, until it was your turn. Embarrassment gripped your body as all eyes were on you, and you dreaded the opening simply by being watched with boredom mixed with curiosity - to see how you might react and make the slightest faux pas.

You went about it slowly, wishing to unpack properly and not act like a barbarian tearing everything apart at once. Your aunt beside you imitated a yawn at the fact that you were making them wait, and everyone laughed, a tense little smile nailed to your cheeks.

What you got in the end wasn't too bad, nor too far from what you could appreciate, surprisingly. Of course, you had to force yourself to smile at most of the useless gifts that gave you absolutely no pleasure, but you thanked everyone, and the presentation of gifts moved on to the next ones.

"Didn't you get her anything?" your mother asked the boys.

"Her presents are at my place," Frank informed her.

The sentence made your heart spike up, a sudden warmth colouring your chest in pink softness as the sparkles of it brought the tingling sensation of tears at the corners of your eyes. Presents, they had gotten you presents.

You were not going to cry, of course not, but the lump formed in your throat gave you enough of a hard time that you had to grab your drink and sip on it.

"Speaking of your place, have you looked at the traffic to get home?" questioned Matt, "I don't think I want to take too long."

"I'll have a look," he said, taking his hand off your shoulder to pick up his phone.

You wondered if Matt had had enough, if his own senses had been overwhelmed by all of this and he was pondering on going home. But then realised what they were doing : feigning traffic disruption in order to get home early and save yourself a lot of awful time.

"I think we're going to have to go," Frank nodded as he put his phone away. "Sweetheart? Ready?" he asked, bending over so that his chest pressed against your back.

"Yes," you said as you took a big breath and stood up, saying goodbye to the whole family.

You dreaded the hugs, the kisses on the cheeks or simply the fact of pressing them together and imitating the sound of what should have been a fake smooch, but with a surge of tiredness you objected to this using the excuse of " time is running out".

In no time at all, Matt and Frank had gathered up all your things and were carrying them, heading for the entrance hall to collect theirs.

In less time than it takes to say it, you were finally outside, walking up to the gate. You felt as if your lungs were being squeezed as you went along, almost expecting to feel a rope being pulled tight inside you to tie you to the house, for someone to come out and catch you or whatever. You felt almost like a gnat trying to escape from the spider's web in which it had been stuck a little too long.

You stuck the key in the lock of the gate, turned it hastily, then opened it to let them go with you, closing the big opaque metal door with that step. The pressure hadn't gone away from your body yet, every limb feeling like it was made of thick, rough foam where multiple needles had pierced you in the many crevices they'd already left and were digging even deeper.

You looked for the car in the hope of getting to it as quickly as possible, but you let out a little squeal of surprise when your feet flew off the ground as Frank swept you up in his arms like a princess.

"Ain't no way you're gonna walk, you've had enough exhaustion for the night," he said, tightening his grip on your back and the back of your knees.

"But-" you began reflexively, although the idea of giving up this position didn't bring you any comfort.

"Ah ah," he stopped, "don't wanna hear about it." If he had his two hands free and was being childish, he would have put them over his ears, singing la la la and pretending not to hear anything.

But his hands were firmly under you, giving you all the security you could have dreamed of and the beginnings of a comfort that would last all evening until you'd sleep.

"Circus night is over," Matt huffed, taking a deep breath, "I think I've heard enough nonsense for one year."

"Lucky for you, next one's less than a week away," sneered Frank.

"I'd rather lose a second sense than inflict this on myself and our angel a second time," the demon replied as he grabbed the car keys from Frank's pocket and opened it.

He opened one of the rear doors, letting Frank gently place you in and strap you in place, placing a kiss on your forehead as he stepped aside to let Matt pass and place the few bags in the boot.

Matt sat down beside you, and you let your head fall on his shoulder. You felt the tingles of anxiety under your skin lodge in your legs and squeeze your chest, the rush to get out of here weighing heavily on your head.

Frank sat in the front seat, turning the car key and making it purr, then drove off.

As the car rounded the corner, all the tension began to dissipate and you let the breath you'd been holding in escape from your chest. Your whole body felt heavy, your hands gloved with marble, your legs booted with lead and your head stuffed with cotton.

You felt the softness of Matt's lips as he placed a kiss on your forehead, his hand coming to rest on your thigh as you hummed under the sweetness of his comfort.

"It's all over now," he said, resting his chin on your head, "we're going to take care of you."

You snuggle up to him, your hand coming to rest on his as you breathe softly. Your fingers drew soft, formless patterns on the back of his hand, fighting the fatigue that had fallen on you like an anvil.

The moment was sweet, Matt's warmth through his clothes spreading close to you as you turned his hand onto his back to gently trace the lines from his palm up to his callused fingers.

"I'd have to get rid of some of them," grunted Frank, who clearly hadn't yet calmed his frustration, "I'm sure they'd be much better off in an asylum."

"It's an insane asylum, not an asshole asylum," Matt remarked, "you'd have to build asshole asylums but... you can imagine the size of the buildings."

"Yeah, still, maybe I should have burnt my cigarette on one of their cars."

"What a nice Christmas present," chuckled Matt.

"I can be generous sometimes," confirmed Frank.

"Especially when you threaten people," you agreed.

"A pittance," Matt snickered, "Is that one of my sweaters by the way ?

"Yes," you sigh, "I'll have you know it's been criticised tonight."

"Really? By whom."

"I'll let you guess."

"A bit bold coming from someone dressed like Norman Bates who dresses like his mother," Frank grumbled.

You laughed softly, a sort of little venting session taking place in the car like a debriefing following a bizarre situation.

"With all those women around, Red's charm knows no bounds," laughed Frank, "you've caught the eye of one in particular it seems."

"My aunt? She's suffering from too much oestrogen. If you're interested, I can put you in touch," you grinned.

" I'd rather sleep on cotton sheets." grunts Matt as his hand grabs your thigh and squeezes a little tighter, letting a small chirp of amusement escape from between your lips.

The ride continued, and your stomach went all hollow, grumbling with displeasure at the emptiness you'd left it.

"Didn't eat much, did you ?" asked Matt softly.

"Barely touched her plate," confirmed Frank at the front.

"Didn't feel like it," you murmured.

"Is there anything you'd like when you get home?" proposed the demon, interlacing his fingers with yours.

"Something sweet," you hummed, adjusting your chin to rest it on his shoulder.

"Anything else?"

"Two pairs of arms around me," you smiled.

They both grinned, and the ride went by in a flash. You untied yourself once you'd arrived, stretching slightly as you shifted to open the door beside you, but Matt's hand from your thigh came to grab your hip and pull you back to him in a gesture that seemed immensely easy.

You turned to face him, confused for a moment, as he kissed your cheek.

"No walking, remember?" he smiled as Frank opened his car door to come towards yours.

You sigh, shaking your head slightly as you roll your eyes. They were overdoing it, but you weren't going to stop them.

"Come here princess," Frank said as he pulled your hips towards him to take you in his arms again.

You wrapped your hands around the back of his nape, nestling your face in his neck and smelling his subtle cologne on his warm skin.

Matt took the bags and went ahead to open the door for you. The familiar smell of your real home seemed to wash all your worries from your body as you took a simple breath.

The bags were deposited in the hallway, Frank walking over to the sofa to set you down.

"Stay right there and don't move," he informed, hands on either side of you as he kissed you softly.

"What happens if I move ?" you asked, placing one of your hands on his arms.

"I'll tie you up like a pretty present," he chuckled as he kissed you again, "the most perfect present we'd ever have."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" you teased, your foreheads pressed together.

"It's a statement," he concluded.

He straightened up, and you were already missing his presence near you, but you respected his request - or rather his order - and remained seated on the sofa. Your head fell back, your body moulding itself to the shape of the couch under the effect of the evening's emotional turmoil. The tension drained away more and more, relaxing your tired muscles and making you yawn.

It wasn't long before Matt and Frank returned with more casual outfits and packages in their hands. You straightened up, bending your knees on the sofa about to get up, but remembering the fact that walking wasn't a possibility, you explained:

"I've got some for you too, am I allowed to go and get them?"

"For us?" said a surprised Frank, pointing at himself as if there was some mistake.

"You mean the packages under the first step of the stairs?" questioned Matt, "I thought those were packages you forgot about for the others."

"No, these are for you," you confirmed as you sat back down on your knees on the sofa.

They stood like that, one blinking repeatedly while the other kept his lips parted.

"You really didn't have to-" Matt began, but you stopped him immediately.

"Tsk tsk, if I don't have the right to stand up, you don't have the right to stop me from giving you presents."

"But-" resumed Frank.

"Ah ah," you smiled in the same tone he'd given you earlier, "don't wanna hear about it."

He parted his lips in a smile but said nothing as Matt laughed softly to the side. They approached you, Frank placing the packages on the coffee table as Matt turned away.

"I'll get them," he eventually says, heading for the top step, cracking it open and pulling out three packages to take back to the coffee table.

"The medium one is for you," you say, pushing the first one towards Frank, "and the big and small one are for you," the two boxes sliding across the smooth table towards Matt.

The packets seemed a particularly complex conundrum to them, but you urged them to open their presents.

Matt opened his and discovered a 7kg weighted blanket and an anti-stress ring that could be twirled on his finger.

"I know you sometimes ask me or Frank to lie on top of you because the weight makes you feel better, so I got you this, which should help if neither of us is ever there to give you what you want. As for the ring, I know that times at the Court can be stressful, so I thought it might help you find a point of anchorage."

Matt seemed at a loss for words, taking the duvet between his fingers and touching the silk sheet you'd wrapped it in. Putting the ring on his index finger, which fit perfectly, he smiled to himself.

As for Frank, he removed the wrapping and his lips parted.

"I've been looking for these for months," he said, looking at the few books he'd been talking about over and over again. "How did you... ?"

You'd scoured countless bookshops, searched book repositories, researched the clearance of certain titles by libraries to find these books that had all but disappeared very quickly while the work was being republished and retranslated.

"A good girlfriend never reveals her secrets," you smiled.

The two of them placed their gifts on the table and came to embrace you, nestling their faces in the crooks of your neck. They held you close, gently kissing your skin between hushed "thank you's", dotting your neck and face with soft pecks.

"What did we do to deserve you," Frank murmured, pulling back slightly.

"I could ask the same about you both," you smiled, running your fingers through their hair.

They kissed you again, then handed you their own gift. You opened it, and it was something you'd talked about several times before, something that was very close to your heart and that they'd decided to give you. This time it was your turn to hug them, and they laughed as you showered their faces with kisses.

"What do you say to a nice bath, and then some dessert before bed?" offered Matt.

"I think that's the best idea of the evening," you confirmed, caressing his cheek and kissing his nose.

Without further ado, Frank took you in his arms like a koala, letting your legs cross behind him as you pressed your cheek against his shoulder. He led you and Matt into the bathroom, the devil bending over the tub to prepare the bath.

Frank lifted you slightly and sat you down on the wash basin counter, letting his hands fall on both your thighs and stroking them gently.

"As much as I love your makeup, we're gonna have to remove it sweetheart", he explained, kissing your cheek.

So mechanically, you grabbed your make-up remover, ready to start the process. But Frank stopped you in your tracks, gently taking the bottle in one hand and a cotton pad in the other.

He poured a small amount onto the white disc, dosing as you did regularly.

"Close your pretty eyes for me," he murmured, taking your chin between his fingers and starting to remove your make-up.

Frank had this charming habit, in the evenings when you were getting ready for bed and he wasn't out playing vigilante, of watching you remove your make-up. He knew a lot about your day by the way you went about it: slow and thoughtful was the result of a good day, faster and more jerky obviously reflected one full of frustration, and sometimes when your movements were slow and your eyes half-closed, it generally meant that the day had been very, very long.

He concentrated, pressing tenderly against your skin as he removed iridescent, matte and mascara from your eyelids, occasionally pausing to kiss your lips, making you smile and giggle softly with each peck.

You almost wanted to put lipstick on his lips and let him kiss your whole face until the red of your cheeks was indistinguishable from the colour of the lipstick.

He asked you to look up this time to clear away the mascara smears and the black marks left in their path. He was doing this with the utmost precision, and this personal attention sent tickles all the way to the back of your skull.

"Look at me?" he asked and you complied, a smirk forming on his lips. "The prettiest girl."

He came over and placed a strand of hair behind your ear before stepping aside to throw away the little cotton disc.

"I'm gonna go and check what snacks we have, Red? I'll leave you my favourite part, but only because it's christmas alright?" he informed before kissing the tip of your nose one last time and stepping out of the bathroom.

Matt, so far checking the temperature of the bath water to make sure it was correct, shook off his damp fingers and wiped them on a towel before standing up and moving between your legs.

"I'll have you stand up just for a bit," he cautioned, taking your hands and pulling you slightly towards him to get you to your feet. "Arms up."

At his request, you raised your arms. His hands pinched the bottom of your hoodie and pulled it up your body. He laid it to one side, continuing with your t-shirt, his fingers still warm from the water sliding delicately against your skin.

"So that's Frank's favourite part?" you smiled, "undressing me?

"I have to say it is," he stated as he unbuttoned your trousers and panties, sliding them to the floor where you lifted your feet to get out of them.

"And what's your favourite part?" you asked as he took off your socks and raised up to your level.

"The one that's about to happen."

He guided you to the bath and let you slide in gently. The temperature was perfect, just as you liked it, and you let out a moan of ease from between your lips until most of your body was submerged in the bath.

Matt took a stool from the bathroom and placed it beside you, taking a cup at the same time to pour water over your hair. He applied himself with great care, taking his time to make sure no drops got into your eyes.

Your muscles relaxed naturally with the heat, finally eradicating the tension in your body once and for all.

You felt Matt's fingers dip into the bath water, sliding up from the skin of your thigh and gently up your body, tracing your silhouette under the water.

"You're beautiful," he whispers as his wet fingers rose from the water to caress your cheek.

"How could you know?" you asked softly, watching as he stared into the emptiness.

"My hands don't lie to me, and I know the beauty of the mind at first sight of the heart" he smiled as he took your bottle of shampoo, pouring some into his palm before massaging your head.

To help him, you straightened up, pivoting slightly to get your back to him. His fingers snaked through your hair, massaging gently and lathering everything up slowly. He worked the back of your neck, muscles tense, letting your head go with the movement of his hands.

With your neck now leaning back, Matt smiled gently before kissing your forehead.

"That's my favourite part," he confirmed, resuming the massage.

You let your eyes close, surrendering to the gentleness of the moment and Matt's touch. He was pressing, caressing, painting with his fingers as if he were holding the most beautiful and delicate material in his hands.

Too soon for your liking - because you would have preferred this moment to have no end - he rinsed your hair, letting the white mousse spread over your shoulders and applying it lightly to your skin. He took the sponge, soaking it in shower gel before squeezing it into a foam so that he could spread the bubbly cloud over your skin.

He took one of your arms, raising it so that he could get it straight and soap you up properly, and he kissed the length of your skin before the softness of his kisses was erased by the little soap bubbles that the sponge left in its wake. He did the same for your second arm, and your leg, and the second after that, covering your whole body with kisses and softness.

At first you thought it was unfair, because no sooner had he placed a kiss on your skin than he wiped it away with white foam. But you were soon comforted by the idea that these weren't kisses being chased away, but kisses being kept, kisses that seeped under your skin and brought you all the warmth that the bath was beginning to no longer contain.

Before the water got too cold, he gently rinsed you off and got you out of the tub, wrapping you in your bathrobe.

Frank came back into the bathroom at last, bringing clean, more comfortable clothes in his hands. They both took their time drying your hair and dressing you, whispering sweet nothings to you as they kissed your cheeks and temples.

Each kiss washed away the stress you'd been feeling, replacing bitterness with sweetness, and you relished every moment of it.

Once again they carried you in their arms to the sofa, where Frank had placed a plethora of foodstuffs of all kinds on the table, snacks and other sweet products that you might have wanted at the time.

You watched several episodes of a series that you'd been watching together lately, commenting on it and falsely - or actually - taking offence at the particularly stupid choices made by the main characters.

You didn't need any more than that. All the love in the world was with them.

They had taught you how one hand changes when you put it on top of another, that another world is possible but is present in this one, that there is always a dream asleep.

They were standing on your eyelids, and their hair was in yours, they were engulfed in your shadow. Their eyes were always open, they wouldn't let you sleep, their kisses in the light made the sun evaporate.

Back pressed against the chest of one, face hidden in the nape of the other's neck, tonight you fell asleep, fulfilled, safe and loved.

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chvoswxtch · 9 months

Text

revenge

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader x frank castle

summary: matt may have won the battle, but frank wins the war.

warnings: all of them. every single one of them. swearing, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

a/n: there's not enough brat taming frank, especially in terms of frank brat taming matt, and I took that personally. this is the last installment in this accidental little mini series, and it's pure filth. enjoy, xoxo.

word count: 1.7k

[part one: jealousy] [part two: forgiveness]

The second that Matt pulled Frank in by the back of his neck, Frank’s plump lips wrapped around your clit and he began to suck fervently. The sudden sensation had you nearly jumping off Matt’s lap, and if it weren’t for his strong hands holding you forcefully in place with his blunt nails digging into your hips, you wouldn’t have even been able to sit up right any longer.

The feeling of Frank’s wide, warm tongue flicking over your clit back and forth repeatedly like a metronome while Matt stretched out your pussy with his thick cock at a legato tempo was almost too much to handle. Frank aided in keeping your legs spread wide open with his broad shoulders nestled between your thighs, preventing them from closing even an inch. Matt groaned lowly into your ear every time Frank’s greedy tongue swiped over his sensitive cock while he devoured your pussy. His large nose rubbed against your clit deliciously as his tongue teased Matt’s sensitive balls, paying repentance to you both simultaneously on his knees for his previous teasing actions.

You had been blissfully, but painfully edged by them both, and you weren’t going to last another minute. From Frank’s skilled fingers to Matt’s sinful mouth, and now the combination of Frank’s ravenous tongue and Matt’s unrelenting cock…you weren’t seconds from combusting. Matt had been ready to come in his office earlier just from hearing the way Frank had touched you over the phone, and you knew he was just as close as you were. Matt was moaning a string of curses and prayers into your ear, leaving marks on your waist with his iron grip, and the sloppy rhythm of his hips pistoning upwards into your own chaotically indicated his own fuse was about to detonate.

Frank’s teeth gently grazing over your overstimulated clit started the chain reaction of fireworks that abruptly exploded within you and Matt both. Your fingers tugged roughly at Frank’s unruly ebony waves as you bucked your hips against his face, a cacophony of moans leaving your lips that were directed at the Heavens as your head fell back against Matt’s shoulder. While you rode out your high against Frank’s face, Matt buried his face into your neck and bit down on your flesh sharply while gripping onto your throat, a feral grunt echoing in your ears as he emptied his pent up arousal deep within you with irregular spasmodic thrusts.

The apartment was silent apart from the sound of you and Matt panting heavily, and while the two of you were basking in the afterglow of gratification, Frank had risen to his feet with a renewed sense of vigor.

Because if there was one thing that fueled Frank Castle more than anything in this world, it was revenge.

The sharp sound of leather snapping pulled you and Matt out of your euphoric trance, and your eyes widened in a mixture of shock and awe seeing that Frank had ripped his own belt apart to free his hands. Frank swiftly reached out to grab you by your waist to remove you from Matt’s lap, and you winced slightly at the sudden motion and loss of contact when he pulled you off Matt’s softened cock.

“Sorry darlin’, ‘scuse me a minute.”

His voice was gruff while he gently set you down on the opposite side of the couch, laced with a dangerously low timbre that indicated there was no room for an argument. He had never used that particular tone with you, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw a flash of recognition on Matt’s face, and he instantly tensed up. His half-lidded hazel eyes that had been glossed over with rapture were now wide open and shining clear with apprehension.

“Frank-”

Matt’s desperate plea was quickly caught off by Frank’s large hand darting out to grab Matt by his throat. Frank had Matt at a complete disadvantage, and he knew it. While Matt was still coming down from his high and depleted of the energy he had used in fucking you to prove a point, Frank was running off pure adrenaline and ready to prove one of his own.

“If I had a fuckin’ attitude comin’ home it’s cause you’re an impatient and selfish fucker, Red. You get her to yourself all the goddamn time, and I can’t get twelve hours alone with her without you showin’ your fuckin’ ass.”

While Frank moved his hand up to yank Matt’s head back forcefully by gripping onto his hair, Matt let out a soft grunt that was layered with arousal and a twinge of displeasure. You watched with an almost unhinged jaw as Frank freed his fully erect cock from his jeans and guided himself past Matt’s welcoming lips. The three of you seemed to moan in unison; Frank from finally getting some relief, Matt from the taste of Frank and the thrill of being used, and you from the delectable sight in front of you.

“Maybe everytime I come home, I need to make sure you got a taste of my cock in that fuckin’ bratty mouth of yours so you’ll remember who the fuck you’re s’posed to be sharin’ with, yeah?”

Matt only moaned around Frank’s thick cock in response. Frank didn’t give Matt any time at all to protest or adjust to having Frank’s cock practically shoved down his throat, and quickly began to fuck Matt’s face at a brutal pace. The sounds coming from both of them were downright pornographic, and it made you wet all over again. Frank’s full brows were knit slightly in concentration as he continued to harshly grip onto Matt’s hair, and his plump lips were parted in pleasure while he watched intently as Matt sucked his cock with a sense of urgency.

“Ain’t runnin’ that fuckin’ mouth now, are ya? ‘Bout time you put it to good use.”

Your hand snaked its way between your thighs of its own accord, and you began to slowly tease your clit as you watched Frank dominate Matt. He didn’t do it often, but when he did, God it was a sight to behold. Matt was usually the more dominant of the two, especially when it came to you. There were rare times Frank let himself lose control, but for the most part, he was mostly gentle. Still, it always excited you when you got to witness even a tiny fragment of why they called him the Punisher. Right now he was fucking Matt’s face with a vegeance, and you were steadily approaching your second orgasm of the night as you touched yourself to the incredible show in happening right before your eyes.

When Matt’s hand eagerly fisted around his cock, which was now fully erect again, Frank smacked his wrist away with a grunt, and he gripped at Matt’s throat with his free hand.

“What’d I say earlier, huh? No touchin’. Pull that shit again, and I’ll tie your ass up and make sure you can’t sit down for a fuckin’ week, altar boy.”

The sound of Matt whimpering around Frank’s cock made you moan in response, and Frank’s eyes suddenly snapped in your direction. His features that were hardened with retribution instantly softened into pure lust at the view of you with your legs spread and fingers toying with your soaked pussy. His tongue quickly darted out to wet his plump lips, and he released his grip on Matt’s throat to reach for you.

“C’mere, baby. Bring that pretty pussy over here and lemme finish what I started ‘fore this asshole interrupted earlier.”

In a flash you were scrambling onto your knees, moaning at the taste of yourself lingering on Frank’s lips when he leaned in to capture your mouth in a heated kiss. While his large hand found its home between your legs and two of his thick fingers slipped easily into your cunt, his thumb rubbed purposeful circles over your clit, and his tongue slipped past your lips like he wanted to ravage you whole. Frank kept his rough grip on Matt’s hair, but he steadied his hips in favor of letting Matt suck him off at his own pace while Frank focused on fingering your needy cunt.

Your head was spinning from the way Frank kissed you, like he was stealing the very essence of life right from your lungs. It was messy and frantic the way your tongues and teeth collided, and you grabbed onto the back of his neck and gripped onto his broad shoulder for support, moaning into his mouth as his hand worked expertly between your legs.

Frank had said Matt couldn’t touch himself, but he never said that you couldn’t touch Matt, and he didn’t make a move to stop you as you blindly reached for Matt’s impatient cock. Matt instinctively grabbed onto your wrist and guided your hand towards his hardened cock, and the muffled moan of gratitude he let out from the contact made Frank shudder against you both. The three of you worked in tandem to bring the other to the peak of pleasure, and it didn’t take much longer for you all to collectively erupt into unmitigated elation.

Pulling his spent cock from Matt’s mouth, Frank fell back onto the couch between you two, putting his arms around both of your shoulders to pull you and Matt in towards his large body as you all attempted to catch your breath. When Frank pressed a soft kiss to the top of yours and Matt’s heads, your eyes fluttered open slowly, and you couldn’t help but let out a quiet amused laugh at the sight of both your boyfriends sitting on the couch together with their pants around their ankles.

After a few moments of silence, Frank cleared his throat and relaxed back further into the cushions, letting his head fall back against the back of the couch.

“So, what’s for lunch?”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @desert-fern @day-dreaming-goddess @kdogreads @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts

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cindymoonsgfreal · 1 year

Text

The Blip

pairing: poly!Matt Murdock x poly!reader x poly!Frank Castle

genre: one-shot, angst, happy ending

warnings: no gender pronounce used for the reader, no gendered body description for the reader, established poly couple, throuple, bi matt, bi frank, bad writing, english is not my first langauge

word count: 1676

After 5 years, Frank and Matt finally return back to you.

Spring 2018

The goosebumps ran down your spine as you shivered from the cold breeze heating the unclosed parts of your body. The blanket was covered from your waist down, exposing your upper body. You breathed heavily, moving your hands towards another side of the bed only to feel cold sheats. Frowning, half asleep, you opened your eyes and lifted yourself, looking around. The lights were off, understandably so, as the outside lights were sufficient to brighten the apartment. The blinds were raised, with one of the windows open only, letting the cool breeze swarm the room. Yet, your partners weren’t anywhere near. Humming, confused, you turned to look at the clock to see the time. It was almost afternoon. Maybe they had some stuff to do, you thought.

Deciding it was already late anyway, you threw the blanket away, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. The yawn escaped your mouth as you stretched your hands up, hearing a light pop on your back. Smiling, satisfied, you rub your eyes tiringly, leaning to the bed table for your phone and noticing two more phones lying near yours. You frowned, trying to find a logical explanation, when you finally heard the water running from the bathroom. Humming, you thought they were having a moment in the bathroom. Deciding to join, you stood up from the bed, shuffled to the bathroom, and gave it three knocks. “Boys?” you called out softly, waiting for any indication, only to hear complete silence.

Something was up.

Turning the handle, you opened the door, finding the room empty, with the sink on, Matt’s toothbrush lying on the floor, and some toothpaste still on it. You picked it up, giving it a quick wash and putting it aside, so Matt could decide later if he needed to keep it or not. When you finally turned off the sink, you noticed how quiet the apartment was. “Matt! Frank?”

Leaving the bathroom, you walked out of the bedroom and looked around. Your gaze fell on the photo-stacked wall, with many polaroids of three of you smiling and being in love hanging on the robe. It was your first Christmas together, and you remembered how Frank was huffing about the silly sweaters while still benign, the only one who didn’t take them off until they needed to go to bed. You even remembered how you and Frank made Matt’s sweater together because the initial material was too much for him, so you found some soft wool and even reder color. He didn’t stop thanking you two until the morning of the next day and the week after.

Almost losing track of your thoughts, you finally moved away from the photos towards the kitchen, noticing the bags with Chinese food lying on the floor, as if someone had dropped them when putting them on the counter. You frowned deeply, noticing the food was still warm. What the hell happened here? You sighed, running back to the bedroom for your phone, feeling some dust stick to your feet.

Finding the needed number, you [atintly waited for answers which came way too fast. Foggy almost screamed your name.

“Jesus Christ, you’re still here.” he sounded out of breath and panicked. You frowned, blinking rapidly in confusion. “Are you okay? Is Matt with you? Is Frank?”

“Wait, wait, wai-they’re not with you?” you breathed out, the panic settling in. You felt your breath hitch. “What is happening, Fog’?”

Foggy stayed awfully quiet. “Foggy?”

“No, no, no.” he whimpered. You could hear the tears in his voice.

“Foggy! What’s happening?” you asked again, putting the call on speaker as you went online, searching for the recent news when you finally saw it.

People are disappearing.

People turning into dust.

What did Avengers do?

“No,” you whispered, watching the video of a person disappearing into dust.

“I’m sorry.” foggy whimpered on the phone before you heard the line end.

You shook your head. “No, no, no.” You whined, trying to calm the rapidly increasing breath.

They probably went somewhere, you thought. I need to find them; you thought as you took your jacket out of the wardrobe and ran out of the apartment in a panic. You walked around the Hell’s Kitchen twice, frantically screaming for them, trying o find any of your guys in the crowd of equally panicked people. In the panic, you managed to call the long-forgotten contact. For some reason, hearing Jessica’s voice calmed you down as she kept you on the line until she got to go somewhere with Luke.

It was almost 6 when you returned to the apartment, completely out of breath, your entire body aching. “Matt? Frank?” Walking back to the kitchen, you threw your jacket down, feeling dust rise. You frowned, running into the bedroom when you noticed the same dust under the door frame between the bedroom and bathroom.

You frowned, taking your phone and searching for the videos of people disappearing again. You turned on the first you saw, watching the video carefully when your eyes widened in shock, and the cry ripped out of your throat.

You dropped to your knees, dropping the phone, as you scattered away far from the dust on the floor. The screams of horror and pain echoed through the apartment. “No, no, no! Why?! Why?!!” you shouted into nothing, feeling your head get dizzy. Your hands fell on your chest, clutching onto the fabric of the t-shirt. You let out roars, your throat sore with every sound you make.

Matt and Frank were gone.

October 2023

You smiled warmingly, watching a little girl run in bright blue overalls around the park. Her curly hair was gathered in two high piggy tails, making them bounce with every jump she made. She giggled loudly as she superhero posed on top of the slides before smoothly sliding down with a huge smile.

You took out your phone, made a quick picture of her running, and sent it to Jess, who only returned the smiley face. You looked up as you heard the girl call your name. The girl had a small frown.

“What is it, Dani?” you asked, your eyes scanning her worryingly, trying to find damage before you remembered what genes she inherited.

“Something is happening,” she murmured, leaning closer to you and wrapping her hands around your shoulders. You hooked your hands under her hips, lifting her up to let her hang on you like a monkey. That’s when that happened.

People just randomly appear on the street, confused and scared. You squeezed the hold harder around Dani’s small body and started walking away to your apartment, shielding the child from the unknown. “Dani, keep your face in my neck, and don’t look up until we’re at my place, okay?” You heard a soft hum. “Good girl.”

You walked quickly down the street, trying not to shake much as you handled the child carefully. You almost felt PTSD as you saw the crowd surrounding the street of confused and scared people, who kept calling for their families, and while some got the answer, some didn’t. You kept hearing the phone buzzing in her pocket, but you didn’t wanna risk Dani just to see what the noise was about. At least until you knew it was safe for the child to be outside, you ignored the noise, trying to get to the apartment fast.

When you finally get there, you put the kid down before turning o close the door on the lock. Dani called your name in a whisper. “Give me a moment, Dani, I need to call your mom first. Hi Jess. Yes, she is safe.” you immediately said, kicking off your shoes and walking. Jessica sounded panicked as she asked more and more about her daughter’s well-being. “Yes, she is fine, maybe slightly scared, but fine. I got her to my apartment; no worries, you can take her when you’re free from here.”

Danielle called for you against, now louder. “Sorry, Jess. I’m coming, Dani!” you shouted back, running into the living room still on the line with your friend when you almost dropped your phone. They were back

Frank still had the same slightly unshaven beard and messy hair that you promised to cut for him. His eyes still had eye bags from insufficient sleep, and scars kissed his skin. He was your Frank. And Matt. Matt didn’t change either. Same clean shaved face, a scar on his left cheek, and lines on his forehead. He was your Matt.

They were your boys.

You snapped out of the trance when you felt Dani tug on your shirt, her eyes piercing into yours with small panic. You breathe out softly. “Hey, it’s okay, baba. Here, talk with your mom in the bedroom, okay? I will prepare the dinner just in a bit.”

The girl nodded in agreement before she took your phone and softly greeted her mom. When the child disappears in the bedroom, you fly to your boys, wrapping your hands around them. You sobbed out the relief, feeling years of stress slowly leave your body. You pulled slightly away, looking at your boys with love and care.

“Love,” Matt whispered, bringing his hand to your face and tracing her line of our features, the frown slowly falling over him.

“How long has it been for you?” Frank rasped out, his eyes tearing up as he looked you up and down, noticing how your hair got longer, and the lines on her face deepened.

“5 years.’’ you whimpered honestly. Matt let out a groan of pain, hearing your heartbeat rise when you mention the years of being without them. “But you’re back.” You whimpered, your hands falling on the sides of their faces, before falling into a hug between them, the sobs of relief hitting their shoulder. Your boys smiled at you, wrapping their hands around each other, trapping you inside. It was a moment as they stayed in each other’s arms before matt had to ask: “She’s not your child, right?”

#matt murdock #frank castle #matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader #matt x reader x frank #daredevil #punisher #matt murdock x frank castle #matt murdock x reader x frank castle #jessica jones #danielle cage

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mattmurdocksscars · 10 months

Text

Late Night Healing Sessions

A/N: Installment two of the Chaos Trio aka the continuation to Friends?! This chapter is kind of Frank-centric so hope yall enjoy! Sorry this took so long to get done, my muse has been dead for some time now.

Warnings: Wound tending, cursing, it’s pretty tame.

Pairing: Eventual Matt x Reader x Frank

"Red."

"Castle."

"I ain't been shooting anyone lately so what brings you here?" Frank looked Matt over and raised a brow. He was posted up on a rooftop, just watching and listening. Matt had popped up next to him though and if Frank didn't know any better, he'd say Matt was nervous.

"Can I ask you something?" Now Frank definitely knew something was strange but, figuring it was probably something vigilante related, he shrugged and nodded.

"How did you know Maria was it for you?" Frank choked and Matt had the decency to look sheepish even with his mask still on.

"You comin to me for love advice, Red?" Matt sighed and tugged his helmet off, running a hand through his hair.

"No. Maybe." Matt growled. "I don't know, okay?"

"Is this about your friend from a couple weeks ago." Matt's sudden silence and the way he froze told Frank everything. "I don't know why you haven't gone for it. Even you, a blind man, should be able to see that she cares about you."

"Just because she cares about me, doesn't necessarily mean she wants more. I mean, she doesn't even really know who I am."

"And whose fault is that?" Matt grit his teeth. "Yeah, exactly. You closed the door, not her. From what I saw, she'd be very interested in taking things further. And you clearly are too, if the way you put her in bed says anything."

Matt huffed and started pacing.

"But what if I put her in danger?"

"Sounded like she could take care of herself. And if the way she stood up to me says anything, she definitely ain't afraid of much."

"That's what I'm afraid of. I'm half convinced she'd follow me every night but there seems like there's something holding her back. I can't place it, but there's more to her."

"And there's more to you. Maybe if you let her see that side of you, she'll show you her secrets too."

"All of this doesn't negate the fact that I don't want her in danger because of me."

"Look. I can't tell you what to do, but I can tell you this. Life is a bitch. It'll take everything from you in the blink of an eye. But I wouldn't still be here today if it weren't for the memories of the good times I carry with me. Maria, she might not have approved of what I'm doing but she would have understood it. She was there through all the tours and the night terrors and the bad days. I wouldn't be who I am if I hadn't had that support."

"... Thanks, Frank." Matt nodded his head to Frank and slipped his mask on. He headed for the edge of the rooftop and just as he was about to jump, Frank spoke again.

"Hey, Red? Don't wait too long. Someone else might come along if you do."

"Yeah, yeah. Goodnight, Castle. Stay out of trouble, will you?"

"No promises, Red."

~~~

The uneven knocking at your door woke you from an uneasy sleep. All night you'd felt that something was off and so you'd tried to stay awake to see if Daredevil needed your assistance. When he hadn't shown by his normal time, you'd laid down on the couch and passed out. Now though, you jolted awake and up, rushing towards the door.

"I'm coming, D, I'm- What the fuck?" Standing at your door was not Daredevil, but Frank Castle. "What are you doing here?"

He looked like shit. Blood wept from a cut on his forehead and down his face. Speaking of blood, you realized the rest of him was covered in it.

Rather than answer your question, Frank swayed and hissed as his body caught the door frame. You winced at the blood he left behind but brought your eyes back to the man in front of you.

"Castle…?" That seemed to startle him into awareness enough for him to speak.

"Didn't know where else t' go. Need help, please?" Your brows shot up and you immediately opened your door wider.

"Come on, let's get you inside." As soon as you put your hands on him to help support his weight, he dropped. You cursed as he almost brought you down with him but you managed to keep your footing.

"Fuck." You hissed, trying to figure out how you were supposed to get this massive man inside your house. Putting both hands under his shoulders, you pulled with all your strength.

He barely moved. The movement also drew a moan from him and you winced in sympathy. Moving around so you could face him, you gingerly cupped his face.

"Hey. Hey, Frank, wake up. I can't get you inside without your help. Come on. You can do it."

You kept coaxing him and silently hoping none of your neighbors chose to look out their windows anytime soon.

"Come on, Castle. Don't make me slap you."

"You wouldn' hit an injured person." He slurred and you nearly sobbed in relief.

"Don't try me. Now, come on. I need you to help me get your ass inside." You pulled on his shoulders for good measure and watched as he then forced himself up onto his feet. You stood with him and carefully began leading him inside. It took the two of you entirely too long and the way Frank got paler and paler the more the two of you moved, did not sit well with you.

"What the hell happened to you?" You wondered aloud.

"Mob. Irish. Motherfuckers hit hard when they want to." You sighed and rolled your eyes in frustration.

"Of course. You and Red are gonna be the death of me."

"Mm. Red. He talk to you yet?" You furrowed your brow but figured it was good to keep him talking. You settled him on the couch and rushed to grab your first aid supplies.

"About what, Castle? Keep talking."

"Shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"He wouldn't like it." You huffed and began working on cutting Frank out of his shirt. He started to go lax on you and you quickly shook him.

"Hey, hey! Keep talking, Castle. Why wouldn't he like it?"

"'Cause he likes you and doesn't wanna admit it." Frank slurred out and you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach. You ignored them in favor of starting to stitch Frank's wounds.

"Oh yeah? He tell you that or are you just guessing?"

"He told me. But it's also obvious as shit. The two of you aren't subtle." Your face burned from his comment, but he was still talking and you weren't going to stop him.

"Told him to quit bein a scaredy cat. Life's too short for that shit. Also told him he better figure it out before someone else comes along."

You half listened as you worked to stitch up the worst of his wounds. He was a mess of knife slashes and stabs and you had to hope that nothing out of your limited experience was wrong. Frank was starting to fade again, so you gently shook his shoulder.

"I need you to stay awake, Frank. Keep talking to me."

"About wha?"

"Anything. Tell me… tell me about your family, Frank." It was quiet for long enough that you thought you'd overstepped but then Frank started talking.

He told you about Maria and Lisa and Frank Jr. He told you stories and little moments and your heart ached as you realized just how much this man loved his family… and just how much he had lost.

Frank managed to stay awake the entire time you worked on him, but just barely. You sent up a silent thank you to his family. They're memory had kept him alive another night.

Sitting back, you pulled your gloves off and patted Frank absent-mindedly on the arm.

"Alright, I've fixed everything I can. You know the rules from last time but to be honest, you might need longer than a couple hours. So stay as long as you need." You told him, standing and wobbling because of how long you'd been kneeling. A weak hand shot out to stabilize you and you huffed a laugh.

"Don't worry about me, Castle. Worry about yourself."

"'M fine. Just need to sleep a few hours and I'll be right as rain." You jokingly rolled your eyes and stepped away from him. Taking all the dirty materials you used, you threw it all out and then went to the sink to wash your hands.

"Sure, Castle. Whatever you say."

"Oh, so I'm Castle again, huh? Thought I was Frank now."

"Frank is reserved for almost dying only." You teased from your spot at the sink and you heard him chuckle then hiss. "Sorry. Seriously, get some sleep. And I mean it when I say stay as long as you need.”

“Thanks.” He murmured. In the ensuing silence, you assumed he fell asleep. Keeping as quiet as possible, you cleaned up as much of the mess as you could. Finally, once your place was relatively clean, you checked on him one final time. As you had guessed, he was fast asleep. Deciding to keep an eye on him, you settled into one of the chairs you had catty corner to the couch. Pulling a blanket over yourself, you settled in to get a restless night of sleep.

Throughout what was left of the night, you checked on Frank several times. The amount of blood he’d lost was worrisome and the last thing you wanted was him dying on your couch. When you finally gave up on sleep, it had been about 5 hours since Frank had fallen asleep. Getting up and stretching, you headed to the bathroom. After brushing your teeth and running a hand over your hair to tame it some, you headed back into the living room. You froze in the hallway when you realized Frank was no longer on the couch. Instead he was standing in front of your coffee maker, sleepily pressing buttons.

“Castle, what the actual fuck are you doing up right now?” You scolded.

“It’s mornin’. I need to get going.” You rolled your eyes and walked over to him, gently nudging him out of the way and getting the coffee going.

“I swear, you’re just as bad as D.” Frank grunted and leaned against the counter as the two of you waited for the coffee to brew. He seemed like he wanted to say something so you kept quiet and let him get his thoughts together.

“About last night…”

“What about it?”

“What I told you. About Red. I shouldn’t have said anything. What goes on between the two of you is none of my business.” You raised an eyebrow and turned to face him fully.

“It obviously is some of your business. D trusted you enough to come to you and talk. That’s gotta mean something.”

"Yeah and then I broke that trust by telling you." Frank rubbed the back of his neck. "If it's all the same to you, can we pretend I never said anything?"

"Of course. It doesn't matter much because I still doubt D will say anything to me. He's too guarded." You shrugged and poured yourself and Frank a cup of coffee, passing his to him before doctoring yours to your liking.

"He's got his reasons. This life ain't easy." Frank said, a dark look on his face. You were quiet for several minutes before you spoke again.

"Did you kill them?"

"Who?"

"Everyone involved in your family's death."

"...Yeah. Yeah, I did." Frank was surprised when you smiled.

"Good."

Frank decided then that if Matt didn't make a move soon… he might be the someone else he warned Matt about.

#matt murdock x reader x frank castle #matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader

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