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hungermakesmonsters · 1 year ago

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Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Six

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Chapter Rating : R - some lots of smutty content

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Billy likes a bit of dirty talk during sex. It's pretty run of the mill, though there's some minor discomfort for reader during. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : ~5.1k

A/N : This chapter picks up straight after the end of the last one. It got a little out of hand but this is exactly what I meant when I said this was going to veer recklessly between fluff and smut. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, and thanks for all the comments, likes and reblogs on previous chapters!! My posts don't seem to be showing in the tags anymore and I don't know how to fix it.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE

Chapter Six

For the longest time, you were content to stay exactly where you were; your hands on his shoulders while his arms remained around your waist, holding you safely in place while the limo made its way through the New York traffic. His dark eyes stayed fixed on yours, barely blinking, like he was afraid you might disappear if he took his eyes off you even for a moment.

As the limo took a corner, he pulled you closer, holding you tighter against him, letting you feel the heat of his body against yours. The hands on his shoulder drifted to his neck, your thumbs running across his jaw through his stubble, still holding his gaze. You pressed closer still, feeling the now-familiar press of his erection between your thighs.

His hand trailed up your back to your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you in for a kiss. It wasn’t long before your hips were moving against his, muted moans muffled by his lips. It went on and on, and you were happy to lose yourself in him, but you both came to realise that you needed more.

Eventually, Billy broke the kiss, breathless and staring at you like he was barely holding himself together, like he was losing his mind over you. You broke his gaze when you felt his hand on your thigh, slowly trailing upwards. He stopped for a moment, his thumb gently running over a faint scar, but he didn't ask, he didn't make you explain where the mark had come from before carrying on. Your cheeks started to warm and you found yourself glancing over your shoulder at the privacy screen, the only thing separating the two of you from the driver.

“He can’t hear us, you can be as loud as you want,” Billy smirked, looking at you in a way that felt dangerous, like he was prepared to do anything to you, for you.

You bit your lip as his fingers crept higher, finally reaching the hem of your black lace panties - panties that were, by that point in the evening, embarrassingly soaked. Was the divide really soundproof? Did you really care?

“Then you should probably do something to make me loud,” you challenged with only a hint of nerves, knowing it was too late to try and stop it.

“I thought you’d never ask,” that smirk still on his lips as his fingers finally moved to touch you through the wet fabric.

His touch was slow, teasing at first, fingertips tracing your folds through your panties until a moan spilled from your lips. With that first victory under his belt, his touch became more insistent, finding your clit and starting to trace circles around it. You hadn’t thought it was possible, but you got wetter with every moment that passed, your arousal climbing through the roof.

“Billy,” you moaned, giving him his second little victory.

Your breath caught the moment his fingers slipped into your panties, biting back another moan, trying not to lose another point so soon. Billy’s gaze seemed to darken when he realised what you were trying to do, how you were trying to deny him. He ran his digits through your arousal, spreading it from your slit, coating his fingers in it, before turning his attention back to your clit.

His smirk disappeared, replaced by something more serious, something hungry.

“Oh God, Billy...” you moaned again, this time louder as he teased his fingers over your swollen clit. He kept going, expertly moving his fingers, strumming that bundle of nerves like you were an instrument only he knew how to play. Another moan slipped out and you soon abandoned your game; Billy had won, you couldn’t keep quiet when he was touching you.

You got louder with every sound that left you, letting Billy know that you were defeated. But, still, he wanted more from you. That hungry look on his face was far from satisfied.

His fingers ventured lower again, the tip of his index finger teasing your wet opening, slipping inside slowly before pulling out again. You keened every time he almost gave you what you wanted, your hips moving, trying to show him what you needed.

“Please -” you didn’t even realise that the word had come from you, but it did something to Billy. His eyes sparked with want and need, but he continued to toy with you, until; “Billy, please…”

Slowly, finally, his finger slid into your trembling pussy right down to the knuckle.

“Is this what you want, sweetheart?” He asked and your body answered for you, clenching and fluttering around his finger as it started to stroke into you. The fingers in your hair curled tighter and you couldn’t decide if Billy was trying to hold on to you or keep himself anchored. The hunger in him only seemed to grow as you moaned and writhed against his touch, and you weren’t sure which one of you was going to break first.

“Such a needy little pussy,” he muttered and all you could offer him was another moan. A second finger joined the first and you cried out, clumsily rocking your hips against his hand while your inner walls tightened. “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m gonna enjoy stretching you with my cock…”

Your cheeks started to burn; you weren’t used to dirty talk, but hearing those words from Billy made you crave more. You bit your lip, too embarrassed to tell him that you were going to enjoy that too. Billy seemed to notice your embarrassment and he soon turned it into his next game. His fingers fucked you faster, bending and scissoring inside you, trying to prepare you for what was coming, searching for -

“Fuck!” You cried out as his fingers hit just the right spot, causing your back to arch and your thighs to tremble.

“Did that feel good?” You didn’t answer, his fingers continued to stroke into your body, but it didn’t feel like enough anymore. “If you don’t tell me, I won’t do it again.”

He wanted you to admit it, wanted you to beg and, as much as you didn’t want to, as much as you told yourself you were better than that, you knew that you weren’t. You’d never wanted anything more than you wanted him. He made you feel desperate, needy, and it should have worried you how much power you'd let him have over you.

“Yes,” you admitted, and he rewarded you by pressing his thumb to your clit.

“Do you want me to make you come with my fingers?” The smirk was back; he knew that you were his, that he was in complete control.

“Yes,” you moaned.

“Say it for me, sweetheart.”

“Make me come with - with your fingers, Billy.” As embarrassed as you might have felt, Billy didn’t give you time to feel anything except his fingers, fucking you harder and faster, hitting that spot inside you, over and over. Your hands found his hair, fingers twisting and pulling as his fingers drove you insane.

It took less than a minute before your back was arching and your whole body was shaking. His fingers kept their pace, dragging out your orgasm for as long as he could, while his other hand continued to hold you tight.

When his hand finally pulled back, you caught an expectant and somewhat uncomfortable look on his face.

“What?” Had you done something wrong?

“You okay? Last time you... you kinda panicked.” he explained with a gentle smile, reminding you of the party.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promised you the night, Billy.” And, to prove your point, your hands started to slip down his body, over his shirt, finding their way to his pants. You heard his breath catch as you quickly dealt with his belt and the fastenings.

“Are you sure?” You didn’t stop to answer him, too busy slipping your hand into his boxers to free his cock.

“I want you, Billy,” you told him, your eyes dropping between your bodies, finally getting a good look at his cock.

“Good, ‘cause I don’t think I can wait until I get you home.”

You might have laughed at his desperation if your attention wasn’t fixed on his cock; like every other inch of Billy, it was perfect. Long, thick, and impossibly hard in your hand, the tip already glistening. And it was all for you. You started to stroke him slowly while Billy fumbled in his jacket for a condom and, soon enough, he was knocking your hand away so he could sheath himself.

Without warning, he tore your panties and balled the tattered remains into his pocket, leaving you perfectly exposed to him. Billy took hold of himself, teasing the tip of his cock against your slit, while you gripped his shoulders and lifted yourself over him. You expected him to drive into you but, instead, he waited; he was going to let you set the pace, you realised. After a few deep breaths, you slowly started to sink down, letting out a grunt of discomfort as the crown of his cock nudged its way inside of you. Despite his preparation and how wet you were, you ached as he stretched you, so much so that you needed to stop after you’d taken the first couple of inches.

“Fuck, Billy, you’re so big…” You hated yourself the moment it left your lips; the most ridiculous and cliche thing you could have said. Your gaze dropped between your bodies to where you were now impaled on his cock, second guessing whether or not you could continue.

“Don’t stop,” he told you softly, his hand cupping your cheek, forcing you to look at him, “it’ll feel so good in a minute, I promise. Just keep your eyes on me, okay?”

His words said one thing, but his grip in your hair and the spark in his eyes said another. He was fighting himself; he wanted to take control, wanted to fuck you hard. But he didn’t, he waited for you to move, slowly sinking down onto him, every hard inch filling you in a way that made you feel like you’d never been fucked before. You kept your eyes on his, watching every flash of pleasure as you took more and more of him. And, despite the ache, the feeling was intoxicating. Panting for breath, you buried your face against his shoulder, needing a moment.

“You feel so fucking good,” Billy moaned in your ear, “so tight, so fucking perfect, just like I thought you’d be.” His fingers tugged your hair, urging you to lift your head again. “Fuck me, sweetheart.”

His hand gripped your hips through your gown, urging you to move. The ache started to subside once you did and it wasn’t long before you were enjoying how it felt. Billy used his hands to guide your movements but he didn’t push for more than you wanted to give. But you wanted to please him, make him feel how you felt. You moved faster, clumsily riding him, moaning his name every time you sank down, and it wasn’t long until you felt your climax starting to build. A gasp slipped out as his fingers found your clit again and mercilessly pushed you over the edge.

You cried out as you came, so loud that there was no way the driver couldn’t hear you. Your body shook so fiercely that you barely noticed Billy moving you, laying you back on the seat so he could continue at his own pace. His arm hooked beneath your knee, pulling it up so he could fuck you deeper. Once he was in charge things turned faster, harder, giving you the full Billy Russo Experience (trademark definitely pending). He fucked you like you belonged to him and all you could do was cry out for him, moaning his name, over and over.

He grunted something that sounded a lot like ‘mine’ against your neck, nipping and sucking the column of your throat in a way that you knew would leave a mark if he carried on. Panicked fingers quickly pulled his hair, not wanting to be branded by him, pulling his lips from your neck and leading them towards your own. Billy was happy to kiss you, to slip his tongue between your lips and dominate you in another way. It didn’t take much to make you come again, and the feeling of your walls convulsing around him was more than enough to finish Billy off.

The twitch of his cock inside you was dulled by the condom, but the groan he let out was more than enough to let you know that he was done.

“Holy shit,” he muttered softly, trying to catch his breath.

Billy didn’t move straight away, leaving you trembling beneath him, his cock still buried inside you as everything started to slow down again, his face hidden against your neck. Finally, he sat back up, fingers trying to tame the mess you’d made of his hair and rolling his shoulder like he might have pulled something. You stayed where you were for a moment, suddenly feeling so cold and empty without his touch. Taking a deep breath, you awkwardly sat back up, smoothing out your dress and pulling it back down to cover your legs. Billy, similarly, had dumped the condom and sorted out his own clothes.

Your eyes drifted to the window, watching the outside world speed by. In the silence you found yourself thinking about what you’d just done - what you were going to do next. How were you going to go back to how things were after tonight? How would you ever get over this? The quiet between you dragged on for a few minutes before Billy reached for your hand and pulled your attention back to him.

“You okay?” he asked softly, leaving some space between you while he tried to figure out what you needed from him.

All you could do was nod, and that seemed to worry him more.

“Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?” He squeezed your hand.

“I’m just trying not to overthink this.” You admitted. Billy nodded before slowly moving towards you and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards him and holding you tight. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Tonight is whatever you want it to be, okay?”

That was the problem, you weren’t sure what you wanted the night to be, especially now that you’d had mind blowing sex with him.

“Can you just hold me like this? Just for a little while?” You asked softly, letting your own arm move across his waist.

“Of course,” Billy answered just as softly, tenderly pressing his lips to your brow.

His other hand pulled his phone from his pocket, but you couldn’t see what he was doing. Once he was done, the phone was slipped back into his pocket and his hand moved to gently stroke your hair.

“You look really beautiful tonight,” he offered softly, making you smile.

“I’m a sure thing, Billy,” you laughed softly, “you don’t have to keep flirting with me.”

“I’m just being honest,” turning a little and pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “I’ve been losing my fucking mind all night just looking at you.” You stayed quiet, not sure what you were supposed to say to any of that.

Billy let the silence hang between you for a few minutes, holding you tight.

“I think this is my favourite part of the night so far,” he admitted. “This is why you. You let me have moments like this. When I’m with you I feel like there’s no expectations, no pressure, like you don’t want me to be anything....”

“I like this too,” you answered, though you didn’t have the heart to remind him that this wasn’t going to last, that, come morning, it would all be over.

You let your eyes close, holding Billy a little tighter, enjoying the moment while it lasted. It wasn’t much longer before the limo was pulling to a stop outside of his building and, when the driver opened the door for you, you were pretty certain he knew exactly what the pair of you had been up to back there, but he didn’t seem to care, especially not after Billy had given him his tip for the evening.

He took your hand, an eagerness in his step as he led you into his apartment building, a grin on his lips that you couldn’t quite decipher - was he really that eager to fuck you again? The building's doorman welcomed Billy home.

“This just arrived for you, Mr Russo,” the doorman approached and you burst out laughing at the sight of the pizza box in his hands.

“Thanks, Marvin.” Trying to hold back his own laughter as he took the box and tipped the doorman.

Billy didn’t waste any more time, pulling you towards the elevator and putting a key into the control panel and hitting the button for the top floor - because, of course, Billy Russo had a penthouse apartment.

“I can’t believe you actually got us pizza,” you laughed, an irrepressible smile pulling at your lips.

“You’re gonna need all the energy you can get for what I’ve got planned, sweetheart.” He joked and, suddenly, you were very aware of the fact you weren’t wearing panties beneath your dress anymore. (And for a moment you stopped to wonder what you were supposed to do in that situation - were you supposed to ask for the shredded panties back? What was Billy even going to do with them?)

Whatever clever answer you had for him was silenced the moment the elevator doors slid open, revealing his apartment. It was strange, really; while you’d known that Billy was obviously rich, it wasn’t until you saw his apartment that it really hit home. He must have noticed the way your jaw had dropped because he let out a little chuckle as he led you into his home.

“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll go grab us a bottle of wine.” He stopped by a coffee table set in front of a large corner sofa to put the pizza down before disappearing.

Finally, you were able to slip out of Tammy’s Louboutins, your aching feet reminding you why you normally didn’t wear heels. Rather than making yourself comfortable, you found yourself creeping across his apartment, looking around. Surprisingly, it felt - empty. Sure, there was furniture and pretty much every appliance you could think of from a hi-fi to a TV with surround sound, but there was nothing personal, save for a couple of photos on one of the walls.

You recognised Billy in them immediately, then Frank, and a few of Billy’s friends that you’d met; all dressed in their Marine uniforms, all looking a little worse for wear, but smiling regardless. But, other than that, there were no other photos, nothing that made the apartment feel lived in.

Soon enough you were moving towards the windows that ran from floor to ceiling, marvelling at the view of the city.

“It’s a great view,” he almost startled you. You turned back slowly, a creeping sense of shame filling you, like he’d caught you snooping.

“I don’t think I’d ever get bored of this view,” giving it one last glance.

“Me neither.”

You didn’t dare ask which view Billy was talking about.

He sat down on the sofa, opening the pizza box before pouring two glasses of white wine. You made your way towards him sinking down onto the sofa beside him, eyes fixed on the pizza. Although you’d eaten earlier that evening, you found that you were surprisingly hungry. Billy gave a wave of his hand, telling you to help yourself as he picked up a slice for himself.

The moment the slice hit your lips you let out an embarrassing moan and, from the corner of your eye, you could see Billy’s grin.

“So, uh,” you choked back a laugh, “this is a nice place. It’s very - big?”

“I bought it the first year Anvil turned a profit,” he explained, reaching for his glass, “I was feeling a bit… indulgent. I always dreamed of a place like this when I was a kid, I thought I’d finally feel like I’d made it once I had a place like this.”

“And did you?”

“Not really,” he shrugged. “The problem with wanting is that once you fill one hole in your life, you realise that there’s another, bigger hole that can’t be filled with things. And, when you grow up in the system, there’s a lot of things you want.”

“You grew up in foster care?” Billy nodded and you had no follow up.

“Where’d you grow up? You don’t talk like you’re a native New Yorker.” He shifted a little, turning so he could see you a little better.

You took a bite of pizza, trying to avoid the question for as long as possible.

“Islamorada, it’s, uh, in Florida.”

“You gave up sun, sea and sand for city life?” He asked and you just shrugged. “You still got family down there?”

“No, it’s just me now.”

Billy seemed to realise that it was a sore subject and you didn’t want to say any more. In a way, it felt wrong sitting there with him, getting to know him when all of this would be over in a few hours. You made small talk for a little while, asking Billy about Anvil, telling him little anecdotes about work and what it was like to live with Tammy, all the while eating pizza and almost getting through the bottle of wine together.

Until you finally felt brave enough to say; “Billy, take me to bed.”

He didn’t say a word as he got to his feet, holding his hand out to you. You took it and soon found yourself being led towards his bedroom, grabbing his free hand when it reached for the lightswitch.

“Leave the lights off?” It came out more like an uncomfortable question, but Billy was happy enough to go along with it, closing the door behind you. With the lights off, the room was bathed in the gentle glow of the New York City lights, enough to see each other but not enough to see every detail and imperfection.

You moved quickly, fingers frantically pulling his shirt open, leaving Billy to shrug it off while your hands trailed down his exposed chest to his belt. His lips crashed against yours as your fingers worked and, soon enough, you were pushing his pants and boxers down his legs.

Before you knew what was happening, he’d turned you, his fingers tugging at the zipper of your gown, letting it drop to the floor next to his clothes and your bra soon followed. Billy pulled you back against him, his lips trailing wet kisses along your shoulders and neck while his hands explored your body. When his fingers found the faint ridge of a scar on your stomach, Billy paused, but before you could panic, the hand started to move again, slipping down and between your thighs. Your legs parted, longing for his touch.

“Still so wet for me,” he groaned, fingers running between your folds, “don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m gonna take good care of you.”

He didn’t waste any time, sinking two fingers into you and fucking you with them. There was something rougher about the way he touched you, something demanding and desperate, like the last of his patience had finally worn away. It didn’t take long for you to come and Billy didn’t waste any time trying to drag it out; he just wanted to make sure you were ready for his cock. And you were, you were desperate for him.

You felt his cock twitch as you turned in his arms, your breasts pressed against his bare chest as you sank closer and closer, until your lips were ghosting his.

“Fuck me, Billy,” you breathed, giving him permission to take what he so desperately wanted from you.

His hands on your ass pulled you towards him, holding you against him as he stepped back and took a seat on the edge of the bed, pulling you down with him. Your lips found his while he reached for the bedside table for a condom, sucking his tongue as he rolled it on and positioned you against him. The hard tip of his cock grazed the slit between your wet folds before he rolled his hips upwards, pitching every inch of himself into you. He moaned at the feeling of your slick walls straining around him, stretching as you struggled to take him, still so overwhelmed by the size of him. But the ache felt good now, intoxicating even, and you knew it would stick with you for at least a few days once you were done.

You wound yourself around him, fingers pressing into his back, holding on as he started to drive his cock into you, higher and deeper, taking more control than he had in the limo. Fingers curled in your hair, gripping but not pulling, and little by little, you realised that you were finally getting to see a glimpse of the real Billy Russo, the side that he’d been holding back. Some part of you felt like you should be afraid, especially when his dark eyes found yours in the gloom; there was something about the way he wanted you that made your stomach knot, not with fear but anticipation. He wanted you in the darkest of ways, like you were prey and he demanded your submission before devouring you whole.

He fucked you like he was laying claim to your body, like every fibre of his being wanted you, needed you. And you craved it, you craved the feel of his cock inside you and his fingers gripping at your hips and pulling your hair, just as much as you needed his gasped groans telling you how good it felt. As he stretched you, as he filled you so completely, you got wetter, practically dripping all over his cock, your body telling him what your words couldn’t. (More, more, more.)

The heat of your body clamped around him, earning groans and a hundred filthy mutterings from him, telling you everything you already knew; you were desperate for him, you loved his cock inside you, your pussy was made for him and, your personal favourite;

“You’re never going to want anyone but me to have this pussy ever again, sweetheart. No one else is ever going to fill you like I do.”

His tongue slipped into your mouth, saving you the embarrassment of agreeing with him so easily, from screaming yes and offering him something that you knew you couldn’t give. But you couldn’t think about that. If it was only going to be one night, then you hoped that the night would last forever.

You moved with him, hips trying desperately to keep time with his, drawing him deeper and deeper, your soaked walls finally letting him move with ease. As your back arched, his lips tore from yours, his face buried itself between your breasts, tongue running over sweat-slicked skin until his lips closed over an already achingly hard nipple. He sucked your nipple while his fingers curled tighter in your hair, and nipped with his teeth while his cock continued to stroke fast and deep inside you.

Nails clawed against his back, his name falling from your lips, over and over again. You’d never felt such desperation, such eager desire.

“That’s right,” he almost growled as his lips pulled from your nipple, leaving it tender and swollen, “beg for me, beg me to let you come.”

And you did without thought, so ready to give yourself over to him, no longer thinking about anything but him and the feelings he was creating inside of you.

“Please - please, Billy, I need you to -” you panted, so willing to do whatever he wanted, to submit to his every need, his every dark desire, “- please, let me -”

You could see him smirking in the gloom as he tugged your hair, causing you to lean back, letting him change the angle. The tip of his cock found that special spot inside of you and his movements became merciless, filling you with so much pleasure you barely noticed the way he was still pulling your hair. You tightened around him every time he grazed it, moaning wildly, crying his name, until you finally shattered, flooding his cock and convulsing around him. And still he fucked you, pitching his cock up into you in a way that let you knew he wanted you to be able to feel him long after he was done.

By the time his release flooded the condom, your entire body was trembling and boneless, completely and utterly his in a way you didn’t care to think about. He pulled you back toward him, crushing your breasts against his chest and laying claim to your mouth with his tongue. Neither of you tried to pull away or sever your connection; you weren’t ready to lose the feeling of his cock inside you just yet, and Billy seemed equally reluctant to leave the warm embrace of your body.

As the kiss broke your head moved to his shoulder, taking slow and steady breaths as your body slowly came down from its high. After an immeasurable amount of time, he moved, lifting you up and putting you in his bed, climbing in beside you and wrapping his arms around you.

Minutes passed in silence, his hands trailing up and down your bare skin until it felt like he’d explored every inch of you that he could. Similarly, your fingers ran across his chest, while you tried to commit every perfect detail to memory. It wasn’t long before he was kissing you, urging you onto your back so he could fuck you again. And that was how things went until you finally fell asleep; tender moments followed by desperate fucking, until you were aching and exhausted.

When you woke a few hours later, light was starting to filter into the room, and you knew it was time to leave. Gently, cautiously, you slipped out of his bed, pausing for a moment to look at him; he looked so peaceful and it struck you how you’d never seen him look so relaxed. Without thinking, you reached for him, wanting to run your fingers through his hair one last time, but stopped yourself at the last second.

You needed to get out of there.

You got dressed, found your coat and phone, and left before he could wake up and give you a reason to stay.

CHAPTER SEVEN

END NOTES : So, yeah, I got a little bit carried away with this one. I thought about making it into two chapters but there never really seemed to be a good place to stop it. Because the next chapter is set during Halloween (I know, I'm super late) I'm going to post it a little earlier, probably Wednesday.

Also for some reason my post don't seem to be showing up in the tag and idk how to fix that...

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this hope you have a great day!

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval @doloreschanal @uncontainedsmiles @damagelove

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #the punisher #billy russo fanfic #cmiyc ff #ben barnes #punisher fanfic

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petertingle-yipyip · 10 months ago

Text

world class sinner - frank castle (masterlist)

season 2

pairings: billy russo x livia yersova (former widow!oc) , frank castle x livia yersova , punisher x exodus

summary: with daredevil dead, exodus returns from Quantico unsure of who she should be. fighting nightmares and deja vu, small sparks threaten to revive something saved for matt murdock before a shocking betrayal rattles New York’s two most dangerous vigilantes.

(1) - deja vu : Being back in the Kitchen almost immediately pulls her back into a fight. But without Matt, what has she become?

(2) if he had been with me: Further and further her humanity goes as Livia commits herself to Frank Castle's crusade. Small moments threaten to bring her back, but how can she when there's nothing worth it... Or is there.

(3) haunted: Can’t breathe, can’t turn back. Livia continues to walk the fragile line of her morality while finding an uneasy comfort in the presence of Billy Russo, despite being haunted by Matt Murdock’s memory. But reuniting with Frank Castle makes it little less miserable.

(4) aftermath: A quick run nearly turns disastrous when a bold move goes wrong. An attempted reconciliation between friends turns nasty, all because the aftermath of Midland Circle still lingers in Livia’s actions.

(5) build god then we'll talk: Temporary alliances form on one side before fighting off an ambush from the other. All the while, dots are connecting for more than one player as the game grows more and more dangerous.

(6) so what now? : Limits are pushed and more secrets pile up as she continues to pretend on both sides. When they creep closer to one another, can she maintain all of her lies and save face or will she be forced to pick what relationship matters most?

(7) so it goes… : All eyes on her, a skilled illusionist. Playing the field for information gets what she needed but could threaten the relationship keeping her afloat.

(8) beautiful liar : A breaking point, new alliances, and seeds of mutual trust show Livia who is and who isn’t on her side.

(9) bad omens: Lingering omens finally register and truths are revealed through blood, bullets, and betrayals.

(10) is it over now?: A long time coming, one fight comes to a bloody conclusion. Another lurks in the near future, and the connection between two friends and two lover is severed.

(11) sinner: It all comes down to one final night, where’s it all began. One who thinks he’s a god versus the one who once scared the Devil and the Punisher. The Devil wasn’t wrong after all to fear the evil she delivers.

(epilogue) i know it won’t work: After a couple weeks, Livia decides to open Frank’s letter.

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celestialspecial · 1 year ago

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Billy drabble yeee. I like all the smutt-smartness, but 13 sounded most him to me 😄

“Get back down here, we’re not done yet.”

You squealed tossing the covers at your attacker. Billy growled, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a decidedly feline expression.

You felt a strong hand grasp around your ankle tugging you back onto the bed. Losing your balance and toppling onto your boyfriend who grinned as he pinned you against him.

"Let me go!" You giggled pushing against his chest, shrieking as you felt his tongue against your cheek, teeth nibbling on your earlobe. "I'm gonna be late for work!"

All your best efforts were futile as his grip only tightened, holding you flush to his bare chest. The smell of him, of the sex that coated your sheets from your past....two hours?

"Nuh-uh, not til' I've had my fill." He murmured, face pressed to your neck. You could feel the bulge underneath you, growing harder by the minute.

Leave it to Billy to be ready to go another nine rounds before work and after only one cup of coffee. The pleasurable ache between you legs almost convinced you to stay.

But....bills. Bills need money. And unfortunately your job was a part of that equation.

"You've had your fill." Flicking his nose tenderly, gaining an inch of purchase on the bed away from him.

"I'll fill you." He pulled you back realizing you were inching away.

"You already have." Smirking down at him, running your hands through his hair, tightening your fingers in the longer top strands and tugging.

His eyes drifted close at the sensation and he let out a low groan. In his moment of weakness, you kissed his forehead before pushing backwards breaking hold of his grasp.

"Hey!" He shouted as you took off for the front door, grabbing your bag in the process. "Just wait until you come home- then you'll pay for that!"

You sure hoped so, it would be the only thought getting you through the rest of your day.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic #ben barnes character #the punisher #the punisher fanfiction #the punisher au #ben barnes #billy russo smut #billy russo drabble #drabble #punisher fanfic #writing prompt

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devils-dares · 2 years ago

Note

Ahhhh congrats on 700!!!!🥳

Your writing is literally amazing and always makes my day!!!:)

Can I request Partners In Crime #15 With M!Reader and Frank Castle? I also think it would be funny if Matt interrupted them 😆

I hope you have a great day!!!!

#15 - kisses in the 'workplace'

wordcount: 300

-----

You heard his steel toed boots splash in the puddles before you see him come from around the corner. He wanted you to know that he was here. The grip on your knife tightened, and you’re sure his did too. His steps went quiet, a tell he’s close, and you swing out your knife to rest at his stomach while his brushes against your neck.

“Prepared this time?” He says, a sinister smile working its way across his face.

“I’ve learned.” You respond, the tip of your knife digging in, making him grimace.

“Sure you have.” He removes his knife, his hands going up in retreat. You laugh, holstering your knife and grabbing the back of his neck to pull him down into you.

“Kiss, Frankie?” He smiles and nods, pulling your hips against his and pressing his lips to yours. Your hands ride further up, fingers coming to curl in his hair that he’s allowed to grow out for the past few months.

“So he’s allowed to call you Frankie?” You laugh against his lips as Matt interrupts the two of you, “Also, kissing on the job? While we’re meant to scope this place out? And the foreplay with the knives? You two disturb me.”

“He gets to call me whatever he wants.”

“Can I call you my baby butterscotch taffy?”

“He gets to call me almost whatever he wants.” You laugh at his words.

“‘sides, if you weren’t such a loser, Red, you’d have someone too.”

“You’re literally a wanted criminal everywhere, Frank, I’ll take what I got.” He says, and gets back to casing the building. He shrugs and gets back to you, an arm wrapped loosely around your waist.

“Feel anything, Matt?” You ask, and he nods.

“They’re clearing the building out, time to head in.”

#frank castle #frank castle fluff #frank castle fanfic #frank castle drabble #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x male reader #frank castle x male!reader #punisher #punisher fluff #punisher fanfic #punisher drabble #punisher x reader #punisher x you #punisher x male reader #punisher x male!reader #marvel #700 follower celebration #dev writes

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garbinge · 7 months ago

Text

Responsible

Frank Castle & OC Ana Tyler

30 Day Fic Challenge

Word Count: 1.9k A/N: These two hold such a special place in my heart. Their fucked up friendship is one of my favorites to write.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Mentions of violence, death, weapons.

All Writing Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989

“I got a dog.”

Frank looked up from his beer and across at the other side of the bar at his friend who had just spoken to him. She began wiping down the counter before making a couple more drinks. The music in the bar wasn’t overpowering, but it was enough to make conversations a little tough to hear.

“I’m sorry, you did what?” Frank said with a concerning look on his face.

“I got a dog. Bully mix. Her name’s Roxy.”

Frank stared at the girl, no expression on his face but Ty knew him well enough to know what he was thinking.

“Don’t give me that look.” She pointed at him.

Frank raised his hands in a surrender but continued to talk. “That’s a lot of responsibility, Ty.”

Before the girl could argue with him, she was being called upon by the manager at the bar.

“Star!!”

The girl turned to see the manager pointing to a group of men and let out a sigh while looking back at Frank.

“Seems like you’re being called on, Star.”

“Yea, I’m going to go do my job because I’m responsible, Pete.” She used her friend’s fake name just as he had used her bar name.

He smiled at her sarcasm as she left from behind the bar and reentered the main portion of the club. The atmosphere wasn’t exactly shitty, especially for a strip club. Ty managed to stay in the bartending position, not wanting to move up the career path at the Penthouse Gentlemen's Club, but also accepting that, money wise, this was the best option for her currently. It helped that she was able to bring Frank in as a club bodyguard, it made the job feel less degrading. Not so much with the ridiculous work attire she had to wear, or even the way people ogled her, but the embarrassment that she had to pretend she was a helpless damsel in distress everytime someone slipped and touched her. Frank made that hard to swallow pill, a little easier to take. He didn’t hold back much with the pieces of shit at the club, and that was enjoyable to watch if she couldn’t get in on the action herself.

Frank kept his eye on his beer, but just because his attention wasn’t on the girl visually, he was ready to go. He heard the way the group of patrons were talking to the girl, and he wished that alone was enough to let his rage out on them but he held himself back. While this was great money for Ty, it was also great money for him.

Just as he went to take his final sip, he heard his friend’s voice snap.

“No touching. You tell me your drink order, I get it, you look, you tip, you drink.” Ty barked at the men.

Before she could repeat the words, Frank was in front of her gripping the men by their collars.

“Pretty sure the lady said no touching.” His voice grunted. Ty smiled as she saw the men squirm and profusely apologize to Frank who threw them back down on their chairs. “A man’s got a right to defend themselves and those who can’t.”

“I hate when you say that shit.” Ty said as she went back to the bar with Frank behind her. “I can defend myself and you know it.”

“Here you can’t.” Frank teased knowing very well the woman had every capability to rip each one of those guys from limb to limb and not break a sweat.

Before the girl could make a snide comment back to Frank, her phone began ringing. By the way she answered it seemed non chalant, her hello was spoken at a normal tone as she kept wiping down the bar with no sign of disturbance. That was until Frank heard the murmur on the other line and that’s when Ty immediately straightened up and let the rag from her hand fall to the ground.

“Where are you?” Her voice had hardened. “Did they follow you?” That line got Frank’s attention, he was looking over his shoulder now trying to pick up on something. “Okay that’s good. Stay put,” she immediately followed up with questions to things that would make the person on the other line not be able to stay put. “Do you have food? Clothes? Okay good, I’ll be there in like 18 hours, 24 hours max, if you have to go anywhere, pay cash and go to very public places.”

Ty was now starting to gather her things and Frank was standing up. He was grabbing both coats and held out Ty’s for her as she walked out from behind the bar and removed her apron, tossing it on the ground.

“I quit!” She yelled out which made Frank frown as she grabbed the coat from his hands. She stopped short and immediately turned around and kicked one of the guys who was harassing her before to the ground, not a drop of sweat formed from the action. She placed her coat back on and called out again. “Frank quits too!”

“You’re not even going to tell me what we’re doing, just gonna quit my job for me? Beat people up and then quit my job for me, man, you know, you’re really controlling, you know that? Real controlling.” Frank was putting his coat on too, still holding the door open for the girl out of his deep rooted chivalry, that despite his desire for justice and murder, still showed up.

“Go home, pack a bag, for both of us, the basics you know, stealth basics, weapons, clothes, food, enough for like 3 days and I’ll meet you there we’ll take your van.”

Frank was going to continue to poke fun at her but he could tell how frazzled she was so he just nodded and made his way, not bothering to ask where she was headed.

Ty had a duffel in her arm as she entered the deli below the building where her and Frank lived, in separate apartments. As she picked up her sandwich order, she was looking down into the bag as her back pushed the door open. She clocked Frank waiting with his hood up against the truck when she was waiting for her change at the register so as she walked out she began to speak.

“I bought sandwiches, as like an apology or whatever for not giving you all the details, but realistically, you owe me an apology because you were kind of being a dick.” She looked up at him and he was staring almost stunned at something in front of him. Ana Tyler frowned at Frank, about to make a teasing joke to him but then she followed where his eyes were looking and saw a blonde woman standing feet away from him looking equally as shocked.

“Oh, sorry.” Suddenly Ana felt extremely awkward and didn’t know what to do. “Uh, I’ll, did you grab Rox?” She was starting to back up towards the building door.

“Rox?” Frank turned to her now, a frown on his face.

“My dog, I’m gonna go grab her, because I’m responsible!” She pointed to Frank, not being able to let that comment go and immediately turned around run upstairs.

When she came back down with the dog and leash in hand, the dog ran right to Frank who was now standing in the same spot alone, no blond woman in sight.

“Frank, Rox, Rox, Frank.” She said letting the leash go for Frank to take it. He was beyond giddy to meet the dog despite his hesitancy earlier in the day. But that had everything more to do with the girl than the dog.

_____

Frank was behind the wheel, they both had been on the road for about an hour now. Most of that time was Ana situating the dog in the back, making sure she was comfortable. They still hadn’t discussed where they were headed, she just told Frank to hop on the interstate towards Ohio.

“So what food did you pack?” She was climbing back into the front seat now, immediately diving into Frank’s backpack. “Frank…” She trailed off as she pulled MREs out of his bag. “This isn’t food?”

“What do you mean, yes it is. You told me stealth basics, that right there is stealth basics.” Frank was defending himself.

“Frank.” She was practically laughing through her shock.

“Look you haven’t told me where we’re going, what we’re doing, I packed what I knew.”

“Speaking of things we don’t know, who was she? The blond.” You asked pulling out one of the few decent snacks Frank did buy, a slim jim.

“No, we’re not doing this.” He shook his head, his hood still up.

“It’s a long ride to Chagrin Falls, Ohio, spit it out, Castle.”

“What’s in Chargrin Falls?” Frank asked, completely ignoring Ty’s comment.

“Chagrin,” She corrected him. “Answer for an answer. Who was the chick?”

Frank nodded with frustration, sucked his lip in and then answered. “Karen. Now what’s in Chagrin.”

“Kind of doesn’t sound real anymore now that we’ve said it so much does it? Chagrin, Chagrin, Chagrin.” She repeated over and over.

“No no no, not fair, I gave you something, now you give me something.”

“You gave me a name, that’s hardly something.” She took a bite out of the slim jim.

Frank didn’t answer, he decided to hold his ground.

“My brother’s kid. We’re going to get my brother’s kid.”

The entire mood changed and the only sound was the whining of Rox in the back.

“She doesn’t like car rides.” Her legs were crossed now on the seat, the slim jim wrapper being discarded to the ground.

“I didn’t realize he had a kid.” Frank knew that Ty had lost all her family when she escaped the Red room.

“I put her in hiding, I didn’t tell anyone it was just safer that way, it wasn’t that I didn’t trust you, it wasn’t–” She was starting to spiral.

“I get it. I’d have done the same thing.” Frank tried to offer the girl some relief.

“She called me, she thinks someone’s following her. I just, I don’t–I can’t have anything happen to her.”

Frank just nodded in understanding and took a deep breath letting out a silent sigh after words. “Her name’s Karen Page, she’s a journalist and uh, she’s helped me out a couple times.”

“She’s the lawyer, from your case.” Ana immediately realized who she was.

“She isn’t a lawyer, but yeah, she helped on my case.” Frank nodded, clearly feeling uncomfortable.

“You looked like you saw a ghost when you saw her.”

“I think she felt like she did.” Frank chuckled awkwardly. “Haven’t seen her in a while, you know.”

“You love her.” Ana said it more like statement than a question, and Frank took that and ran with it and didn’t respond, just changed the topic.

“Turn on the radio, 98.4, soft rock, it’ll help Rox relax.”

She did what he said, grabbed a dog toy from her own bag, placed it next to the dog and within a few minutes the dog was sleeping in the trunk.

Frank looked over his shoulder, glancing at the dog and smirked slightly before putting his eyes back on the road.

Ana Tyler matched his smirk and kicked her feet up on the dashboard, pulling another slim jim out from Frank’s bag. “See I’m responsible.”

“Take your feet off my dash.”

#The Punisher #Punisher #The Punisher Fic #Punisher fanfic #Frank Castle x OC #OC Ana Tyler #Frank Castle #The Punisher x OC

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fangirlirl · 2 years ago

Text

Devil in Disguise

Chapter: 1/8

Word count: 1.7k

Pairing: Frank Castle x Matt Murdock

Rating: Mature

A eerily peaceful afternoon, the wind gentle. He sat at the bench listening to the sounds of people going about their day. Whispers, gestures and inaudible expressions. Taking it all in, reflecting. He heard someone sit beside him, there was no unnecessary movement, he had a strong guess as to who it was but remained silent. It was too soon to go through this, it was better to pretend he wasn’t there. The feeling wasn’t mutual.

“I need your help.” His rough voice echoed through him, unsettling.

“Still on the run?” He retreated to the figure. He must’ve been covering up, making sure no one could recognise him.

“I only came to say hello.” The male stared at Matt “and I need some help”

“What could Mr Castle possible need my help with?” Matt tried to joke but Frank seemed too serious about this issue. After getting no further response, he made an offer. “I believe you’d like to discuss the matter in confidence?”

They entered the lawyer’s apartment, Matt removed his tinted glasses, left the cane to the side and walked towards the kitchen. The other man following like a shadow and glared over him. “Hungry?” He had only left the apartment to go for a stroll to clear his head of the restlessness.

“No.” Firm. He stepped closer to Matt and monovered him to stand between himself and the kitchen top. Matt could feel his exhaustion, the weight of the world on his shoulders. He must’ve been desperate to come to him for help, they were never really on good terms regardless of his alias.

“Maybe some coffee?” Matt tried, he wanted to get away from the situation without pushing anything with the larger man. He was confident in his abilities to fend himself, but the risk of exposing himself was not worth it at this time.

Frank was staring at the blind man’s face, it was putting him on alert for some primal reason. “I’ll have some coffee.” He wanted to believe he was being paranoid but every experience of his life had taught him to trust his instinct.

Without realisation Matt had placed a hand on Frank’s shoulder. “What’s the matter?” His expression plain but his tone was of concern. Frank didn’t like that. He didn’t want the pity, to be thought of as helpless.

“Just annoyed about the thing I’m here to discuss.” He wasn’t. “It’s Curt, he likes to keep things in the clear.” Matt’s hand was now on the side of Frank’s neck with his thumb creasing his jaw. He felt an instinctive need to comfort him.

“I’m all ears.” The space between them was closing in. Matt could hear Franks heartbeat, a rise in temperature in his throat, his steady breath. A sigh.

“What’re you doing Murdock?” His tone was stern. His body conflicted so he didn’t move.

“I’m not sure” Matt didn’t realise how close he was to the other man. He moved back only to encounter the kitchen unit behind him, before he could find his way out, Frank spoke up.

“I didn’t say stop.” Frank was curious, he waited for him to do something. Anything.

Matt wasn’t entirely sure how he ended up in this situation, he didn’t mean to lead on the Punisher. His instincts were similar to caring for an injured puppy, but now he felt like he had to follow through, he wanted to comfort him. He placed a hand on Frank’s neck, fingertips of the other hand reaching out and creasing his jaw. He felt Frank’s hand on his lower back, he could feel his arms on either side, strained muscles, purposeful. He leaned up and placed his lips on Frank’s, he had learnt from past experiences that he should close his eyes at this point, so he did. Frank held onto him, it was reassuring. His lips were warm. He could feel a cut on them, all the creases and bruises still healing.

Frank didn’t think this is at all what would happen when he agreed to go to the lawyers home. The kiss was confusing, concerning for the man. Yet, he held onto Matt, he kissed him back. His thoughts were scattered, why did Matt want this. Some part of him knew it was out of pity, but it didn’t feel condescending. To some extent Frank was surprised when he peeked at Matt between the incident, he almost felt guilty for looking at him in that state, he looks so vulnerable. He let himself enjoy another moment of the gentle touch, he moved his lips against his, feeling the pure affection in the touch. He pulled away first, but kept his hands on the other’s back. Frank looked at him, he could see Matt was turning a little red. Frank leaned close and touched their foreheads.

“Sorry…”Matt started to say, his hands now placed just below Franks shoulders. He kept his eyes shut. He wasn’t sure how to deal with this. He felt himself being lifted up and onto the kitchen top, his arms wrapped around Frank’s neck for support. Their faces still too close. He could feel those lips against his own again, they were warm, more attentive. They turned to gentle pecks, lasting a few seconds each. He let himself enjoy every touch he received, reciprocating. Frank’s hands moving over his back and creasing the sides of his torso. He let himself lose his awareness in the unexpectedly soft kisses. His arms loosely anchored around his neck, he felt the pecks reaching down to his chin and to his jaw. The haziness lifted just a little when he felt Frank’s hands reached the end of his shirt, his fingertips skimming over the skin just above his waist.

Matt retracted his arms just a little and cupped Franks face, his thumbs rubbing over his cheeks. He scanned his face, taking in every curve. So many fresh bruises, his cheek swollen and a cut on his forehead yet he didn’t flinch to the touch. Frank started to undo the buttons on Matt’s shirt, he saw a bruise on the blind man’s collarbone. “What happened?” He demanded, a hint of anger in his voice. The rest of the shirt was unbuttoned, several bruises and ancient scars were revealed. Frank was unsure how someone like the man before him could get into any situation resulting in what he saw.

“You’re not the only one with enemies.” A dry laugh escaped Matt, he didn’t see the point in trying to make things more complicated. He didn’t want to explain himself. He wanted to kiss Frank again, he leaned forward to find his lips and Frank moved his head lower to examine the markings. Matt groaned at the rejection, he could feel Frank’s hand touching all over his torso, tracing the cuts with his thumbs. His shirt was fully removed, Franks’s hand were on his back, it wasn’t out of affection but they were searching, searching for more damage. “Frank…” Matt’s voice was low, a small whisper but it got his attention.

“Hmm…” Frank looked up and noticed Matt’s strained expression. He realised he was prying more than he was welcomed to, that never stopped him before. He stood up and lifted Matt’s legs up “Hold on” Matt locked a hold around his torso and neck, Frank’s arms supported him while being carried to the couch. He sat down, pulling Matt’s head closer but in doing so he was pushed to the side and ended up flat on his back. Matt was sitting on his thighs, he look so restless and needy. It wasn’t something Frank would expect from him. He also wasn’t going to let him do whatever he pleased. So he grabbed Matt by his nape and jerked him back, getting himself up and harshly kissing him. A small hum could be heard as Matt indulged in his hold, he seemed aroused by the sudden change of tone.

Frank pushed him back until he was laying on the couch, holding himself over the man. He placed a hand around his neck, Matt was hot to the touch, his blood was rushing right through. The punisher could kill him right now and no one would ever know. Matt started to question if all of this was a plot to get him murdered, but that wasn’t his method, this isn’t how he would kill, he isn’t an assassin. He was distracted from the thoughts soon enough, a peck and his bottom lip being bitten, another bite on his jaw then his neck. He leaned into it, let Frank do as he pleased. He didn’t have to worry about being killed.

He indulged himself, he pulled at Frank’s shirt motioning him to take it off. Frank obliged and dropped his shirt next to the couch, he leaned his lower half down and enveloped himself around Matt. He placed a hand on Matt’s nape and another cupping his cheek as he kissed him. Matt wanted something more, he held onto Frank’s face as their lips touched. He placed his hand behind his head, pulling him closer and pressing his tongue onto his lips. Frank didn’t move for a second which gave Matt time to take it further, at this point Frank wanted the same.

Their tongues mingled, Frank let him have a moment of control. Matt didn’t wait for him to change his mind, he held Frank close and moved his tongue to explore him. Matt could feel how much the other was enjoying this, he wanted to give him more. Matt moved his hand over Frank’s chest, taking note of all the stitches and bruises. He thought of all his struggles but bought himself back to the moment. He wasn’t in control of those situations now. Frank pushed down and pressed his tongue back. Frank pulled away first, parting from his lips. He stayed steady, staring down at him.

“I meant to buy you dinner first” Matt tried, smiling up at the man. There was a laugh, it was genuine, it was Frank’s. It plucked a string for Matt, he had never witnessed him happy to any extent.

“It’s must’ve been one hell of a dinner if you got me this far.”

“I’d love to cook but its not something I pride myself in.” He leaned up to rest his back on the arm of the couch.

Frank rested his head on Matt’s chest closing his eyes, interlocking their fingers and creasing the back of his palm pressing a kiss on his fingers. “I’ll cook for you” he felt comfortable laying there, at peace regardless of his earlier instincts.

Matt ran his fingers through Franks’s hair, creasing his jaw with his thumb. He pressed a kiss into his hair “I’d like that.”

Author note: Stay tuned for more and here’s some bonus fanart by yours truly.

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itwasthereaminuteago · 2 years ago

Text

|| As It Was ||

Frank Castle x Matt Murdock

Tags/warnings: blip angst 😭 but don't worry I wouldn't hurt you like that 😊 @munsonownsmyass gave me the title for an ask game where I'd answer with what kind of fic I'd write for it. I didn't even know it was a Hozier song when I replied that I'd write a blip fic where Frank loses Matt... then I listened to it so many times, read the lyrics and I was just like, fuck.

There is a roadway, muddy and foxgloved

Never I'd had life enough

My heart is screaming out

And in a few days I would be there, love

Whatever here that's left of me is yours just as it was

"I'm just looking after the place y'know, for when he gets back."

Karen nodded, her hand resting softly on Frank's arm as she hoped that them all just believing it would happen would be enough.

When he had found that Karen had been covering the rent and bills for Matt's apartment, Frank had taken them on and eventually with her encouragement, he moved in.

At that time it had been almost a year since half the world went away, since half of Frank's heart was lost. A void that suddenly appeared in his life and sucked everything into the deepest, blackest hole.

Of course there were others, close friends and all the everyday figures in their lives that they must have taken for granted before, all disappeared without trace, but none of them hurt as deep as the love he'd lost. He was shredded up inside, hollow and empty but for the small sliver of hope he held up, the only thing still keeping him going. Keeping him alive.

The empty apartment was both a blessing and a curse. There he could be closest to what remained of Matt, his scent ingrained into the place. Sometimes it was the biggest comfort, but the memories also made it the hardest place on earth to be. He had wandered at first, like a lost dog looking for his owner. He had to try to look, people just didn't vanish into thin air, it just wasn't possible. Although with the kind of shit that had been happening in New York in recent years who knew.

Eventually he admitted that he had to find a coping mechanism. He threw himself into work, helped Foggy and Karen as much as he could, tracking down case leads and threatening those that stood in the way of justice for the people who had lost everything. And before returning 'home', he'd work second and often third jobs just so he didn't have the time or energy to think or dream about him, using hard labour to try to achieve such a state of physical exhaustion so that sleep came sterile and dreamless.

Even so he'd wake up with red eyes, dreaming of Matt reaching out to him and then blowing away on a gentle wind, disintegrating right before him. It didn't even happen like that. He wasn't even with him. They were miles upon miles apart, Frank chasing yet another gang across Middle America for vengeance. Fuck, how selfish he'd been in hindsight. If it wasn't for his blind rage he could have been there with Matt, maybe it could have been different. Maybe it would have taken him instead somehow, he didn't know but it killed him that he hadn't been there.

Just as it was, baby

Before the otherness came

And I knew its name

The love, the dark, the light, the flame

He knows it's futile but his iron grip never lessens even after the months turn to years. The worst part of it is it's not like missing someone as if they had died, at least then you know they're really gone and never coming back. Sometimes he'd experience something, hear something and think, you'd love this, Red.

Years passed and he witnessed others 'getting back to normal', trying to make something of their forever changed lives, some of them meeting to talk through it as therapy, some moving on and dating again.

"You'll always love him Frank, I know that, but it's okay if you want to. Matt would want you to live your life." Karen would tell him, but he would shake his head and give her the same stubborn look.

"I don't wanna live my life without him."

The eyes at the heights of my baby

Let's hope at the fight of my baby

The lights were as bright as my baby

But your love was unmoved

And so Frank didn't move on. He carefully tended the memories he had for fear they would fade, honoured Matt's way of doing good for the people of their city, and prepared for the time when his lover would walk through that door and back into his arms again.

Except he wasn't prepared, no-one was.

When it happened, Frank was backing up the truck in the workyard.

"Woah woah! What the fuck dude?!" A female voice was screaming from behind.

Frank slammed on the brakes, his eyes darting up to the rearview. He could have sworn there wasn't a single soul around when he checked his mirrors and blindspot just a second ago. He cut the engine and got out. The girl he saw in the mirror strode angrily up to meet him.

"Hey buddy, look where the hell you're going next time, you nearly leveled me coming out of nowhere like that!"

Frank squinted at her for a second as she looked around in confusion.

"Where's my car? I parked up right here a couple of minutes ago…"

He shrugged. "Look, I'm real sorry for the scare but there ain't nobody else here but me lady, and I ain't seen no car either. You okay?" Frank asked. The girl was clearly convinced someone had stolen her car.

"It was literally just here! I just locked it to go to the sto-" she cut off, her eyes flicking around the building site they were standing in the middle of. "Where's the… store?"

Frank shook his head. "Ain't been a store here for 'bout 3 years now, you sure you-"

Realisation hit him so suddenly that his heart felt like it was going to fall through him, his awareness spreading out to the frenetic sounds of the nearby street, yelling, car horns honking and a hell of a commotion. Frank paled. The girl tipped her head as she heard it too.

"Are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on, mister?"

Frank takes a deep breath to try and keep his heart from exploding in panic. "Kid, do you have family nearby? Can I give you a ride someplace? I'll explain everything on the way, trust me."

Frank sped home as fast as he could after dropping off the girl to elated and tearful parents, but the streets were pure chaos with nearly everyone trying to do the same thing, desperate to find their loved ones. He caught himself trying to make rare contact with the Big Guy under his breath, a prayer, a mantra that Matt would be there when he got to the apartment, that he'd just appear like the others did. His phone rang out as he ditched the truck streets away and took to running. It was Karen.

She was yelling the words out at a hundred miles a minute. "Frank, they're back! They just appeared, we blinked and there were clients in the office! They don't know, oh god they don't know what happened! Frank where are you you've got to-"

"I know, I'm on my way, he's gotta be there… he's gotta be."

She murmured her agreement. He could hear the tears in her voice. "Let me know, please let me know. There's people I need to- we all need to check on–"

"I know sweetheart. Don't you worry, I'll catch up with you later. You be careful alright?"

She sobs. "Frank… they're back."

He stops before unlocking the door, gives himself a beat.

To do what? Prepare himself to be heartbroken again?

Fuck it.

Just go in, get it over with.

He opens the door, it's quiet. It's like it always is, empty.

Then he feels it.

A draft from upstairs where the door is ajar.

The roof.

He takes those fucking stairs three at a time, slamming the door open all the way when he reaches the top.

"Frank?"

And tell me if somehow some of it remained

How long you would wait for me?

How long I've been away?

The shape that I'm in now is shaping the doorway

Make your good love known to me

Just tell me about your day

Frank stares. He's looking at a ghost. Matt is right there, standing on the roof turning to face him. He doesn't dare blink in case he loses him again. Matt is there. He starts walking quickly towards him, bundling him into his arms, holding his face, kissing him all over and squeezing him so tight that Matt starts laughing.

"Hey! You're back earlier than I thought." Matt says in surprise, momentarily turning his attention away from the unusual commotion he can hear from the nearby streets and apartments. "What's going on?"

Frank buries his face into Matt's shoulder, still hugging him like a bear. He tries to stop his hands from shaking by pressing his fingers into the soft fabric of Matt's hoodie, feeling him so solid and real under them.

"I–I'm gonna need you to say my name again, please baby…"

Matt's brow furrows in confusion but he does as he asks. "Frank, you're only been gone a few days, did you really miss me that much?"

Then the tears come.

"Baby, you don't know, you don't know–" Frank sobs against Matt's shoulder, his voice breaking.

Matt holds him steady. "Hey, you need to tell me what's wrong, what happened? I can hear so many people crying, so much confusion… the air smells different, your heart's beating so fast, I know something's changed, tell me…"

Frank pulls back a little, tries to wrangle his emotions for long enough to try and explain this unbelievable thing, but where the hell do you start?

"God, I don't even know how to…"

Matt's hand comes to his face, he strokes over Frank's damp cheek with his thumb. "It's alright, just take your time."

Frank chokes out a sad laugh. "Fuck, I've had nothin' but time, five years of it, Matt. You… and half the world… you were just gone, nobody knew where, what had happened." He leans his forehead against Matt's, "but I knew you'd come back, goddamn I just knew it somehow."

It's Matt's turn to hold onto Frank as he tries to process what he's hearing.

"I… was gone for five years?"

"C'mon let's go inside, huh?"

After he does his best to explain the Avengers, Thanos, and the infinity stones, Frank finds he's not so surprised with how well Matt has taken the news. He fills him in with the work he'd been doing with Karen and Foggy and Matt beams with pride and relief that his friends were okay.

He doesn't know if Matt's ready to answer such a question, or if it's too much, but he has to know. It's been eating him up since that day.

"When it happened, did… did you feel it?"

"It was strange. I guess it was like, everything just kinda… falling away." He reaches for Frank's hand, placing his own on top.

Frank scrubs his free hand over his face. "Jesus-"

"Hey, it's okay, I'm here." Matt soothes, interlocking their fingers and leaning his body against him.

Frank can't stop pinching himself, making sure this isn't just another cruel dream, that Matt was definitely here to stay and wouldn't fade into a whisper on the wind again when he least expected. He stays close regardless, sits with him on the couch as he touches his face, feels his way around those rugged features even though to Matt it was only a few days ago that he last mapped them out in bed. He's not much changed, maybe the lines around his eyes are a little deeper. He can feel Frank's body as they hold each other, he's leaner, muscle distributed differently to how he was before. Some of his edges have worn, he's softer in his demeanor.

Frank draws Matt's hand to his chest just above his heart. "This is the one thing that ain't changed. Never once stopped thinkin' about you. Never stopped loving you."

Matt sees a reel of what Frank has gone through in his mind, waiting for him, holding on to the thinnest morsel of hope, never moving on. It's a bittersweet thought, his own heart breaking thinking how he'd feel if it had been the other way. His eyes shine with tears.

Frank caresses the side of Matt's face, runs his fingers through the strands of his hair as he peppers kisses along his jawline, treasuring the small gesture so much more now.

The eyes at the heights of my baby

Let's hope at the fight of my baby

The lights were as bright as my baby

But your love was unmoved

"Couldn't bear acceptin' that you were– you'd gone for good y'know? I just couldn't. It kept me goin'."

The tears fall down Matt's face and Frank does his best to kiss them all away. His voice is cracked and rough and he's a mess, they're both a fucking mess but they don't care.

"You waited for me?"

Frank can't help acting like it's an insult to think he wouldn't. "You kiddin' me? You're worth waitin' for baby. I'd wait twenty, hell, I'd wait fifty years if it meant I got to see this face again."

"God, I'm sorry… I'm sorry I left you like that. I'm sorry I left you–" Matt croaks the words out and Frank's shaking his head hard, pulling him closer, holding him to his bones. He can't bear Matt feeling like it's somehow his fault.

"Nah, c'mon don't you do that. Don't you try and take on guilt that ain't even yours. You're here baby, you're back, everyone's back and that's all that matters, right?"

Matt sniffs and finally nods. They sit in silence for a while, content just to exist with each other.

"There's so much to catch up on."

Frank can hear a slight lift in the tone of Matt's voice and it makes him chance a smile, hoping it will stick, that there will be so many more reasons for him to smile like this again.

And the sights were as stark as my baby

And the cold was as sharp as my baby

And the nights were as dark as my baby

Half as beautiful too.

#frank castle x matt murdock #fratt fic #blip fic #frank castle angst #matt murdock angst #fratt fanfic #punisher fanfic #daredevil fanfic

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oh-you-mean-me · 8 months ago

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Fanfic Request

I was watching True Lies (1994 movie with Arnold Schwarzenegger and Jamie Lee Curtis) and had this thought about Billy Russo. What if he is in a relationship, but his job (as a bad boy doing bad things) keeps him from spending time with his partner. He decides to take them out to lunch and overhears a conversation which makes him thinks his partner is cheating. What would he do? How would he handle that? I have it in my head he would use all of Anvil's resources to find out.

Any takers?

#billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #punisher fanfic #Fanfic Requests

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moonyflesh · 7 months ago

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dating Logan Howlett would include…

WARNINGS: smutty. p in v, oral sex, fingering, breeding kink, orgasm teasing/control, mentions of aggressive/risky sex, (language, obviously), etc. - [🔞]

CHARACTERS: James “Logan” Howlett (MARVEL/X-MEN/WOLVERINE)

🐾 .*.. 🩹

- possessive smacks on the ass when you pass him in the hall.

- all talk, but no bite (he would never actually hurt you).

- routine scalp massages (on both ends), usually ending in you both being passed out on the other’s bed.

- having to label what food is yours, or he will eat it.

- constantly scolding him for his chapped lips…where he continuously looses the chapsticks you graciously lend him (he always buys you more).

- playful banter that usually ends with you bent over whatever flat surface is nearby.

- having to get used to loud chewing. i mean, it’s Logan. what do you expect?

- not much physical show of affection in public- that’s reserved for behind closed doors. (an occasional press of his lips to your forehead, or his hand on the small of your back is as far as he’s willing to put on display for the student’s prying eyes).

- thriving off of each other’s warmth at night- tangled up in each other under some thin duvet.

- country, bluegrass, and old as fuck music. don’t you dare even think about turning on “that shitty music you like so much” around him.

- being turned on by your makeup on him in some way— lipstick prints smeared along the collar of his white t-shirt- your mascara running down your face and smearing onto his fingers when he wipes it off.

- (^) just you making an absolute mess on him in general. he fucking loves it.

- needing to take sharp intakes of breath in between his kisses, since he physically can hold his breath for much longer than the “average mutant”.

- rough, meaningful sex. there is no such thing as a ‘quickie’ in his book. he wants to savor your moments of vulnerability.

- more teeth than tongue. he wants to feel how you squirm under him when his canines sink into your lips, shoulders, and inner thighs.

- (^) lovebites and hickeys. you’re not allowed to leave the house unless there’s something that’s marking you as taken. as his.

- wearing his clothes when he’s gone for long periods of time.

- long motorcycle rides, usually at night. (he makes you wear a helmet and plenty of protective leather, much to his enjoyment).

- soaking in your scent. he always knows when your needy. he can smell it on you.

- oh, and he smells like cedar wood and pine. Maybe a bit of cigar smoke- his natural sweat smell he can’t seem to get rid of? Something Iike that.

- (^) him going absolutely feral when he can smell himself on you- his cologne, cigars- just his general aura on you is such a massive turn on for him.

- lots of loving nips and kisses, though. constantly has his lips pressed against the nape of your neck or crown of your skull.

- sleeps with you in his arms. no way in hell you’re allowed to wake up before him.

- face sitting. he wants every pound of you on his mouth and nose, his arms wrapped up and around your thighs, pushing your cunt into his tongue.

- wanting to feel good too. no matter how hard he’s been going down on you, he wants release, too.

- praise. lots of shrewd language and name-calling.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

“fuck, that’s my good fucking girl- you’re doing so good, sweetheart- so pretty all sweaty and wet cuzzah’ me, huh?”

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

- face fucking. he’ll stop no matter how close he is to his peak if you need him to, but he wants it so far down your throat. and you better swallow every last drop.

- breeding kink? idk i just feel like he’s super into seeing you carry his kid (only when you’re ready, though. he of all people knows what a big deal pregnancy is).

- decent aftercare. he at least puts some amount of effort into it; probably brings you a glass of lukewarm water, a damp towel from his bathroom, maybe one of his t-shirts if he thinks of it.

- expect to wait a while for him to say “i love you” back. he’s been hurt. too many times. he loves you, he breathes you, he craves you. he just doesn’t know if he’s ready to actually admit that to himself yet, let alone to you.

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yayll · 4 months ago

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~ a little something about you and Dazai working together... or at least trying to ~

"Hold still! God, you really need to be more careful, Dazai, I worr-"

He blinks, and tilts his head, his voice soft yet firm as you both sit on the agency's couch.

"Would you mind looking at me real quick?"

You glance up from disinfecting his wound, and hum.

"Mm, why?"

He sighs, and when he speaks his voice comes out dramatic yet tantalizing, the way he always makes it sound when he knows he's about to say something silly. Something you'll hopefully scold him for! Yum...

"Oh, no reason... Just wanted a little kiss before I inevitably die in your loving embrace~"

You roll your eyes and groan, it makes his stomach do flips. There it is, that adorable shade of pink he loves so much! It matches the one you had on in bed this morning, but that's too naughty to think about now... Dazai hears the way your voice is significantly less strict, and he knows he has you. When does he not?

"Not now, Dazai-"

He interrupts, pouting as he reaches over and twists a lock of your hair in between his slender fingers, twirling it mindlessly while you mend his wound. He gives you a melting expression as his eyes droop enough for you to have no choice but to notice his despair as he whines.

"Mmm, why do you always only call me Dazai when we're at work?"

You sigh as you gently finish dressing his wounds, the fresh bandage mingling with his older ones... He makes a mental note to have you change those later too.

Anything to keep your hands all over him. Desiring him. Always in sight, always on the mind.

"Because we're at work... we're professionals, remember?"

That silly little comment makes him scoff.

"Hmph. Well, everyone knows..."

"Know what?"

"That you and I kiss in the supply closet sometim-"

You fling yourself against his chest and clamp his mouth shut, cheeks burning redder than a tomato. He licks the inside of your palm, causing you to immediately yank your hand away with a small squeak. You can't hold back the way your lips curl into an embarrassed smile as you hiss, and it makes him almost froth at the mouth... Trying to relearn decency is hard when he's this close to you.

"Professionals, Dazai!"

"... We should kiss" He blurts out, face smug.

"No"

"But it huuurtssss!" He's desperate now, resorting to the lowest of the lows so you'll accomodate him against all wishes, not like he has any shame left. He dramatically points at his wrapped up wrist, and slumps back onto the couch as he deflates into deadweight.

Your face softens and you look down, sighing in resignation that your boyfriend might just be a total baby FREAK. His pupils turn into hearts when you speak to him in the way he wants you to.

"Where does it hurt?"

"Who are you referring to?"

"You..?"

He smirks devilishly, and shrugs, feigning ignorance as he looks off to the side, arms crossed. You slowly start to get it, and crack a smirk. You exhale, shaking your head as you give him what he covets for.

"... Where does it hurt, Osamu?"

There it is, the magic word. By the time you're done asking that he's already crawled ontop of you, cornering you on the small loveseat and caging you in between his slender frame. Dazai takes your hand in his, and intertwines your fingers together as he nuzzles your cheek with his nose. His voice is soft, gentle, and talks you through it, just how he did this morning.

"Mmm, I'm not sure anymore... Let's find out together"

Your breath hitches, and you become bashful under him. He looks at you with narrowed eyes, knowing what it does to you, but more importantly what it does to his sick little mind. Leave it to Dazai to turn playful banter into something that will surely leave the two of you a mess... Hopefully you a little more than him. You whisper, a little breathless.

"Oh, now you're just baiting me, huh..."

"Well if I'm bait, then you're biting."

He whispers back, as if sucking the very life force out of you with his eye contact alone. This is how he wins, how he secures heaven for himself every single day, selfishly. He's not hiding anything in his expressions. He wants you for him, and no one else.

You really never stood a chance.

#im sick in the head huh #it's like i start to write a normal little concept.... and it becomes a monster #freak needy clingy obsessive dazai eats me alive!!!!!!!#dazai is so wolf in sheeps clothing flirty but will escalate things the second u get even remotely flustered #he likes to provoke u just for the punishment hehehe #slightly suggestive??? oops #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd dazai #dazai x you #osamu dazai #osamu dazai x reader #bsd x reader #dazai imagines #it's dangerous how much this isn't proofread im srry #everything he does is out of reinforcement that U BELONG TO EACH OTHER #dazai fluff #fanfic #dazai osamu

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bitterrfruit · 3 months ago

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Wild Cherries

John Price x f!Reader tags/cw: modern western AU, cowboys, mean!John Price, chasing, spanking, light sadomasochism, age gap (ish), brat taming, dubcon if you squint, smut wc: 4.9k 18+ mdni

Jonathan Price owns the ranch that neighbours your family's. You've got a bad habit of hopping the fence between them, snooping and stealing, leaving little traces of your misbehaviour behind. What happens when you poke the bear?

✼ Read the full chapter on Ao3 ✼

Jonathan was almost as tall, near as wide as the doorframe he stood in. He glanced above you, expecting someone taller, before he craned his head downward to look at you, and you felt your heart flip behind your sternum.

“Well,” he huffed, voice hoarse from a day’s worth of yelling. His stare narrowed as he soaked you in, crow’s-feet creased; piercing eyes raked from your head to your feet, painfully slowly, and back up again. “Ain’t you a nice surprise.”

His cocksure voice was rumbling and deep, it sunk under your skin and made you turn pink. You had only ever heard him shouting, heard his roars in the distance when he chastised either you or his ranchmen. Now he uttered his words so low that you could hear the gravel in his throat, it made you want to press your ear to his padded chest and feel the vibrations of his sonorous voice directly from its origin.

You took the same time to inspect him - realising you hadn’t ever seen him up this close, close enough to smell him. He smelt of hard work and cigar smoke, salt and musk, the warmth of his mammoth body reached out and touched you as if the evening air was suddenly cold. His smoky blue t-shirt had stains of sweat between his broad pectorals and down from his neck, the cotton coated in dust - he had only just turned in from a long day of wrangling, hadn’t yet had the chance to shower or to change.

He lifted a bronzed and furry arm to lean his elbow against the jamb of the door, so thick with well-earned muscle they threatened to tear the sleeves of his shirt with the slightest flex. You wondered if he picked up his cows with his bare arms, carried them around like they weighed no more than bales of hay.

His cheeks were ruddy with sunburn and vigour, his firm jaw coated by a dark and barely kempt beard, specked with silvers. His expression was stern, though a glimmer of interest in his steel-blue eyes belied his severity. Heavy lids hung low by virtue of looking down at you, his lips in an analytical curl under the thick moustache that grew under his nose.

You blinked up at him, and opened your lips to speak - but a gruff snicker from him sucked the air from your lungs before you could utter a word to greet him.

“Brought me a gift?” He asked richly, glare stuck on you and not the sack of ruby-red jam you hung from your fingers.

Finding yourself, you gave him a pursed smile. “Lawrence made me come and say hi.”

“Made you, did he?” He snorted, oozing a knowing arrogance.

“Yep,” you said, lifting the bag to present it to him. “Eve cooked up some jam.”

You saw his temples bulge as his jaw clenched tightly, expression sinking into what looked to you like twisted disappointment.

“Nice o’ you,” he grunted disinterestedly, paying no mind to your olive branch. After a troubled sigh, he asked; “Where’ve you been, lil’ miss Honeybee?”

The use of your nickname made gooseflesh shiver down your spine. He could only have heard that from your siblings or their ranchmen - how often had they spoken to him? Discussed you while you weren’t there to hear it? Last you thought, they never interacted at all. Now, he seemed to mock you with it.

But he uttered it so casually, with such a coating of sugar, that it rinsed you like praise.

“Just working,” you replied flatly, shuffling on your feet, vaguely embarrassed to admit you had abandoned the job already. “In the city.”

“Mh,” he hummed, giving you a placid nod. “Back for good?”

You bit back the smirk that coaxed your lips. “Maybe.”

“I’ll have to build a taller fence, then, won’t I?”

Unable to discern if there was any humour in the forcefulness of his tone, your tongue curled behind your teeth as you tried to find a response that wouldn’t incriminate you.

And you failed. “I’m a good climber.”

He didn’t quite smile, you saw his chest rise and fall with a hounded breath.

“I bet you are.”

an: hey y'all, as some may recognise, this is the extendo version of my old drabble 'cowboy price'. Not yet the part 3 that many of you were asking for (i'm sorry), but there will be many more parts to come, and I hope they will sate our collective hunger for horny western Price!!

Above is only a snippet, the rest is on my Ao3. love youuuu <3

#punish me #john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain price #john price x f!reader #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #cowboy price #bitterfruit fics #bitten fruit

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petertingle-yipyip · 3 months ago

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WORLD CLASS SINNER - FRANK CASTLE

seven - bad idea, right?

six // finale // masterlist

Pairing: frank x exodus

Word Count: 6,754

Summary: Beaten but unbroken, Livia manages to uncover a truth that keeps Frank from falling off a precipice. But as a result, she ends up caught.

You were screaming. Armed officers had escorted you and Frank out of the room and they kept yanking on your arm, pulling you away from Frank. You jerked in their holds, kicking and screaming and throwing every curse word in every language you had. You didn’t care that it made your wound leak blood. You didn’t care how it hurt.

“He didn’t do this! He didn’t hurt me! Let me go! Let me go!” You kept screaming, kept thrashing, until finally one of their grips faltered. The officer made an exclamation about the blood on your arm but you didn’t care.

You hurried to the gurney they were putting Frank on. The adrenaline must’ve crashed and all of his injuries were catching up to him. Yours were threatening to take you down as well, but you pushed through, using all your strength to keep your eyes open. Hands were on your arms again and you yanked hard. Your elbow smacked the railing while an exasperated sigh sounded from behind you. You refused to look, refused to budge, refused to speak. Instead, you took Frank’s hand in yours and willed him to live.

Paramedics talked around you while they loaded Frank. You tried to go with him but a stern hand on your shoulder stopped you. Your head snapped, rage now simmering in your tear-filled eyes, but you knew there was nothing intimidating about a woman crying her eyes out. Brett sighed deeply and gave you a once over. He motioned one of the medics over, said something that you couldn’t focus on, and stepped aside to let you up. You nodded gratefully and sat at Frank’s side.

The paramedic he had talked to came to your side and asked you a question. It didn’t register so when you didn’t answer, she pointed to the various injuries. You simply nodded, allowing her to reposition your body to whatever would be easiest for her to work with.

“Он не может умереть. Пожалуйста, не позволяйте ему умереть. Не он, не сейчас.” You mumbled, but you weren’t exactly sure how quiet you were. (He can’t die. Please, don’t let him die. Not him, not now.)

Was that what Frank felt when you were dying in his arms at the carousel? When you were bleeding out, staining him with the little you had left? When he begged and cursed and demanded you lived? You felt gutted. You had felt guilty enough in the coming days that you had nearly added another name to the death roll of that cursed attraction, but to now know what it felt like, it was almost enough to make you physically sick.

It was all such a bad idea. Going after Billy. Confronting the man from Ohio on your own. Coming back to New York before you had fully settled your head. You never should’ve gone to see Billy, maybe then he would’ve forgotten about everything between you two.

Everything since had happened aggressively fast.

You arrived at the hospital and were taken to two different rooms. An entire team of E.R. staff flocked to Frank, while you had two nurses. It wasn’t important how many caregivers you had, so long as Frank lived. Quick stitches in various places and replacing the gauze you had already bled through were done while your focus was in the next room.

Please, God, don’t take him.

You were mildly surprised you let the thought come as a prayer. You truly were desperate, to turn to an entity that had turned His back on you and, despite having several chances to take Frank, didn’t seem to want him.

Hopefully you don’t want him this time either.

You were so lost in your prayers that you didn’t realize Brett was standing in front of you. Your nurses were long gone, but a prescription for antibiotics was in your hands.

“What?” Your brows furrowed as the hospital around you came back into focus.

“I just need a quick statement.” He repeated but there was something hesitant in his expression, like he knew you weren’t all there.

Clearly.

“Statement?” It was your turn to parrot. “No. No, there is no statement to give.”

“C’mon, Livia.”

“I need Matt or Foggy before I do that.” You shook your head. You folded the paper and tucked it into the waistband of your skirt. “Call my lawyers.”

“You're not under arrest.”

“I didn’t think I was.”

“Just tell me what you two were doing there.” Brett tried instead. “He was pointing a gun at you, Livia, but you still want me to believe he’s not the bad guy?”

That seemed to reel you back to reality. The sting of your wounds started to nag at you at the same time.

“He wasn’t going to shoot me.”

“Like he shot those other women?”

“No, something wasn’t right about that.” You confessed. “They shouldn’t have… Frank was looking for Russo.”

“And you?”

“Also looking for Russo.” You nodded.

Brett scoffed slightly but you noticed he didn’t have anything to take down your statement. That conversation wasn’t supposed to be happening, not like that at least.

“Good way to get yourself killed.” He nagged and you refrained from rolling your eyes. “Seems a habit with you.”

“Yeah, well, God doesn’t want me and neither does the Devil.” You shrugged. “Hopefully they don’t want him either.”

“You can’t save this guy, alright? Whatever you think you owe him, you don’t.”

“You weren’t there.” You said flatly but your voice sounded miles away, lost in the memory. “At the carousel. You didn’t see the way Billy looked at me, like I was just something to get rid off. To throw away and not worry about again… But Frank, he wouldn’t leave my side. You may not think I owe him anything but I owe him my life, Brett. How do I repay that?”

“Maybe you don’t.” He shrugged. “Man’s got a rap sheet that can cover the globe. That’s not the kinda guy you need to run around with.”

“You’d be surprised the company I keep.” You pushed off the bed and groaned as your leg buckled slightly, fresh pain throbbing in your stitched wounds.

They’d be healed by morning, whether your body’s doing or yours.

“You shouldn’t go till the doctor discharges you.” Brett tried.

“I’m not gonna sit around and wait for some guy in a coat to tell me I can leave.” You countered. “The nurses did their jobs. They’ll bill my insurance. Everyone still gets paid.”

“Livia-“

“No.” You said firmly. “You say I don’t owe Frank anything. You don’t owe me anything so stop trying to protect me. I was FBI SWAT and before that, something worse. I’m fine.”

“Okay, clearly you need a concussion eval because there’s something going on.” He complained. “Stay put. I’m finding a nurse for you.”

You blew out a sigh and watched him go. Once he disappeared down a hallway, you left. You wandered the emergency area, peeking into rooms until you found Frank. You couldn’t and it made a hole in your gut. You cursed yourself and then found a small collection of nurses, muttering about having treated the Punisher and how they were glad he had moved to another unit.

You found your way to the hospital gift shop and were able to get a clean shirt and shorts. The lady at the register, after her eyes flicked to every stitched wound and shadowed bruise she could see, said she would add it to your existing bill. She reached over to scan the bracelet and sent you on your way. You changed in the closest bathroom and decided to take the long walk to your apartment.

When you got there, you took a warm shower. You felt the remaining blood washing away, soaked your hair and scrubbed it firmly. You wanted to stay in the water, to pretend there was no war against Billy outside your apartment. Pretend the man from Ohio wasn’t hunting you as well. Pretend there wasn’t a terrified teenage girl counting on you. But you knew that your apartment wouldn’t be safe forever.

So you got out, finished getting ready, brought yourself to tears forcing the slashes to heal, slipped the stitches that were still wet with blood, and left. You wore a short sleeve compression shirt with your vest over it. You hid it all under a loose fitting button up and blazer. You clipped the badge to your waistband on one side and slipped your gun into the back of your belt. You slipped a small switchblade into your pocket and grabbed your purse before returning to the hospital, almost as a whole new woman.

“Sorry, ma’am.” The posted officer said easily, stepping in front to block your path. “Hospital staff and police only.”

“I’m with Nelson and Murdock, Castle’s legal team.” You countered and went to pass. He stepped in front again and your head cocked in annoyance. “What do you want, my Bar license? I have a right to see my client.”

“Sorry.” He shrugged. “Strict orders.”

“Hmm.” You nodded, tongue pushed against your cheek. Your eyes flicked to the name pinned to his chest. “How about now, Officer Smith?” You shifted your blazer to show your FBI badge.

“I could also pull out the Sixth Amendment from the Bill of Rights. Neither my bureau nor your precinct can deny a person legal representation. Due process and all, but hey, this is great grounds for a mistrial.” You continued, a shrug of your own. “Or I could just have your badge now. Your choice.”

“Alright, just go.” He groaned and waved you on. As you passed, he muttered something about the second ‘know-it-all bitch’ to come for Castle.

Karen beat you to it then.

When you stepped inside, Karen was sitting silently in the closest chair.

“Livia…” She gasped and sat a little straighter.

You were suddenly thankful you had taken care of yourself before you came.

“It’s good to finally see you.” She continued.

“Right, well, things have been busy.” You nodded and went to Frank’s other side. You slid off your blazer and sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m just glad he’s alive.”

“Well what about you? Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

“Does um- Does Matt or Foggy know you’re back?”

“They saw the news about the ReadyQuick check place.”

“I know they’d love to-“

“I didn’t come back for a reunion, Karen.” You sighed.

It wasn’t fair to be mean to Karen. You knew that and you knew you should apologize. There was too much going on that she didn’t know that had your focus. Amy. Billy. Frank. The man from Ohio. The bounty on you all. There were pieces that you weren’t even sure how or if they fit anymore. Dinah. Dr. Dumont. Curtis. Your mind was too busy, too locked in on your mission, to worry about pleasantries.

“I came back because he needed me.” You looked at Frank. “Because he and…”

You knew Karen was trustworthy. She had kept your secrets until she physically couldn’t anymore. She kept Matt’s secret, even in his alleged death. She kept Frank’s in his. But telling her about Amy felt more vulnerable than anything. Instead, you trained your eyes on the cuffs around Frank’s wrist. You wondered if the pins in your hair would be enough to trigger the pins and release them.

“Livia, what the hell happened?” She asked and the fear in her voice didn’t go unnoticed. “I saw the news.”

“Billy.”

“Did he… Did he see you two coming?”

“Don’t.” You sighed.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t get involved this time. Look at what it did to him, and you don’t even know what it did to me.”

“She’s right.” Frank murmured and you felt the relief roll through you. He wouldn’t look at her, barely even looked at you. “Walk away, Karen.”

“What? You two think you can scare me off that easy?”

“It’s not about scaring you.” You sighed. “It’s about keeping you alive.”

“I don’t think you want me to go.” She shook her head and stood.

You sighed and got to your feet. You angled your body so you could face them both and you kept a hand on the side rail.

“It’s a tough situation.” She continued and you raised a brow. “But nothing we haven’t dealt with before. We just have to figure out what to do about it.”

“What to…” Your brows furrowed and you took a few tentative steps forward. Karen shifted but didn’t move. “Karen, we don’t do anything. You think there’s a firm in this country that can do anything? We’re fucked on that front.”

“I did it.” Frank said quietly.

“Shut up.” You said sharply.

“I killed three women.”

“Shut up!”

“Why?” He scoffed and you turned quickly. “You’re not gonna fix this. Neither of you are. What you’re both gonna do is turn around and walk out that damned door, alright? You’re gonna get as far away from this and from me as you can.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me to go.” You threatened. “I dare you. I’m not leaving until you actually have the audacity to pull the trigger on me.”

Karen went back to her seat and took a gentler approach. “It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

“It should.” He said quietly.

“It doesn’t.”

Was that what you and Matt looked like, when you were practically begging for him to hate you for what you’d done? You could remember the way his expression shifted everytime you brought up the blood on your hands. He had cringed, not at what you had done but at what you thought you were. He never thought you the villain and you would never understand what you had done to deserve that. Something in a past life, maybe, but when you stood and watched Frank bully himself for something you weren’t convinced happened, you knew he deserved that same treatment.

You didn’t see bad in Frank. He had done admittedly bad things, illegal things, but you were no better. Call it whatever name, you and Frank were still soldiers, trained to fight whatever war found you. This wasn’t one you’d let him fight alone.

You all sat in silence for a little while. You played the scene of that night over and over, trying to picture the wounds on the women, but so much had happened so fast. You hadn’t gotten a good enough look. You couldn’t say for absolute where the bullets came from but you were willing to bet it had nothing to do with Frank. It was something Billy did. You were sure of it. But how the hell were you going to prove it?

After a long while of silence while Frank tried to sleep off his injuries some more, Karen spoke.

“What about you?” She asked carefully.

“What about me?” You replied tightly.

“If this is what happened to him, I can only guess how you were hurt.”

“Few slashes, bullet graze, more bruises than anything.” You shrugged and thought of the deep purples and blues that covered your body from your fight against the Ohio man. You wondered how much was still there. “I wasn’t wearing anything so he made sure to take the brunt of it. Most of it just hurts from before.”

She nodded and you could see she wasn’t sure how to segway into what she wanted to talk about.

“There’s a reason I haven’t seen anyone.” You said plainly. “This fight with Billy and-“ You shook your head. “It’s too much to risk to see them.”

“Would they make that choice?”

“I know Matt would, and he’d also agree that Foggy doesn’t need to be dragged into this either. You’re the only one insisting.”

After that, you went to get a coffee from the cafeteria. You had to argue your way back into the room when a new officer was posted, but the flash of your badge and your ID let you through. When you got back to the room, you stayed out of sight for a moment while you listened.

Frank was awake, telling the full story of the carousel. He mentioned the way his kids looked at him and you could hear the pain in his voice, feel it crawling under your skin and freezing your veins. You shivered and the warm drink in your hand felt as if you had pulled it from the fridge.

The blue fog in the room was growing thicker with every word, making it harder for you to breathe. Tears you hadn’t realized were building fell down your cheeks and you had to take a few shaky, labored breaths before you managed to find control of yourself and your powers. You knew you were growing more tired and in turn, your abilities were more sensitive, but you’d expected to break down over your inability to be done with Billy, not the Castle family’s tragedy.

You came fully into the room and wiped at your eyes with your sleeve. You set the coffee on the far table and sniffled slightly. Karen looked at you with her own tears forming and Frank’s eyes were glassy as well. You knew there was nothing to say about his family so you didn’t. While you were thinking of something, anything, to try to explain your theory, the door opened and a nurse’s cart was pushed in.

Your head snapped and your hand went for the switchblade. As your fingers found the metal, the “nurse” turned out to be Amy. Frank grumbled in annoyance and you laughed in relief.

“Thank God.” She sighed with a smile and you smiled back, but then her suspicious eyes latched onto Karen. It almost made you laugh. “Who are you?”

“Easy, killer.” You teased.

“I’m Karen Page and I’m guessing you’re not a nurse. Who are you?” Karen answered, taking a defensive stance in front of Frank.

“Nobody. She’s nobody.” Frank answered.

“Hey.” You snapped and glared at Frank, who purposefully looked away from everyone.

“Yeah, I’m the nobody that came to get you out.” Amy answered and went to the cuffs opposite of Karen. You shook your head with a small, amused smile before following behind her and staying at her side.

She fiddled with the locks before Frank tried to snatch his arm away. You grabbed his wrist purposefully and sent a flare of anger towards your palm, enough that he groaned and offered you a glare of his own. Amy explained to Karen the bounty on all of you when Dinah Madani walked in.

“Fucking hell.” You muttered, turning to the woman and crossing your arms.

“Gang’s all here.” She said in greeting.

“What do you want, Dinah?” You asked sharply while Frank insisted on Amy being taken away and protected.

Karen and Dinah went back and forth about the situation and Amy. You didn’t intend on stepping in, given both women had a right to be annoyed with so much that they didn’t know, but a snide comment about Amy’s sticky fingers made you.

“Okay, you know what.” You commented loudly. “She may be a little klepto, but if you’ve got a problem with anyone in this room, you can take it up with me. You don’t get to sit on a high horse anymore, got it?”

“You really wanna do this now, Yersova?”

“You say that like I need backup to knock you on your ass.”

“Not like you fair well without it.”

“Look at that.” You smirked. “All it takes is you getting shot in the head and a skeleton out the closet for you to grow a backbone. Tell me, again. Who was the one that actually drew blood from Russo?”

“Enough.” Karen tried but that didn’t stop the hand that was already on its way to your pocket. “Why are hitmen after you?”

“It’s a long story.” You snapped, not looking away from Dinah.

“And she’ll tell you when you get her and the kid outta here.” Frank continued and you scoffed. “You know I’m right, Livia. It’s not safe for any of you to be here.”

“I don’t need safe.” You argued over your shoulder. “What I need is for y-“

“Can’t you just-“ Amy tried loudly. She came around you and stood in between your standoff with Dinah. Hesitantly, you withdrew your hand and took a step back. “Can’t you wave your stupid badge around and get him out?”

“No.” She said firmly.

Amy turned to you, desperation hiding behind her eyes. “Can you?”

“My badge doesn’t mean shit anymore, kiddo.” You answered sadly. “Otherwise I would’ve had everything cleared by now.”

She let out a loud sigh of frustration and went back to fighting with the handcuffs. “Then someone’s gonna need to help me get him out. Otherwise he dies either way, in here or in jail.”

Karen and Amy began muttering a plan when Dinah stepped aside for a call. You watched her for a moment and the tension in her body gave it away. You snapped your fingers to get the conversation behind you to stop and you snatched Dinah’s phone from her hand. You put it on speaker and Billy’s voice came from the other side.

“…no matter how many cops you surround him with. Are you gonna visit him every day?” The broken man taunted. “Like you visited me?”

You opened your mouth to speak but Dinah beat you to it.

“So why don’t you come here, Billy? Join the party?” She asked.

“Can he hear me?”

“Yes.”

“How’s it feel, Frankie? To be locked up in a cage like an animal? To be confined to a room with nothing but your miserable thoughts to comfort you? Nothing temporary about that pain. It’s like a waking death, like you’re burning in hell… Yeah, yeah, you’re your own devil now, Frankie Boy. And you are no better than me.”

Your head cocked in interest. You're no better than me. Why did that matter to Billy, if Frank was or wasn’t, or even if Frank believed he was or wasn’t?

“You done, Bill?” Frank finally spoke. His voice was cold, distant. Miserable, almost.

“No, you. You’re done!” Billy screamed. “And every day you’ll remember that I’m the one that put you there.”

“But you didn’t.” You spoke up, brows knitting as you remembered that night. “The guys you ran with did more damage than you did…”

“There she is.” He sounded almost proud. You hated that he felt he knew you still. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’re still at his side. Not like you have anyone else, right? No place in the world. Isn’t that what you said?”

You could feel three pairs of eyes on you. Karen, Dinah, Amy. Frank was still looking at the phone.

“Right.” You agreed tightly. “But you realize that doesn’t bode well for you.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Nothing’s stopping me from burying a knife so deep in your chest it’ll come out the other side.” You threatened. “I can put so many bullets in you that no one would recognize what’s being buried. I’m sure you’d want a closed casket anyway, given those nasty scars.”

He laughed dryly and your empty hand clenched into a fist. “When are you gonna give it up, hmm? I win, Y/N. I win.”

“Not yet. Not until I’m dead.”

The call ended after that. You handed Dinah her phone without looking at her. Instead, you waited for Frank to meet your eyes. He wouldn’t and all it did was deepen the divide you could feel growing between you two.

Frank was punishing himself for those women, but in your bones, you knew it was wrong. That certainty was seering through you, sharper than you had felt anything before. You tried picturing the scene but everything seemed to be missing pieces. Where were the blood splatters? Where were the entry wounds? Were the women lying in puddles of blood when you found them?

Your chest began to rise and fall quickly and the certainty shifted to something else, something wild. Trying to piece together the missing facts played into the unpredictability that came with Billy’s return and it tightened around your throat. It constricted your chest until you felt you couldn’t breathe.

You slipped out of the room and away from everyone until you made it outside. You took a deep breath and tried to focus, to see through the blurring scenery around you, but you couldn’t. You felt trapped. You dropped to the nearest bench and bent over, putting your head between your knees.

Your eyes closed and behind your lids, gray wisps danced and teased you by creating the outlines of the dead women. If you were alone, you would’ve screamed. Instead, you forced all of it down to your palms. It stuck to the circular scar on your wrist instead. Your other hand grabbed it as you righted yourself and leaned against the building.

Your scar seemed to pulse with the intense emotions but you didn’t know what to do with them. You could turn it to anger but what would you burn? Sadness but what would you cool? Fear but what would the bitter taste change? You let go of your wrist and looked down at it in defeat. Beneath your skin, you saw the rolling waves of gray moving like water. It made you shiver.

“Everything okay?” Karen asked. Your head snapped up and your friend was looking at you with concern in your eyes and Dinah in tow. “You snuck out.”

“Just needed to think.” You shrugged as each woman took a seat on either side of you. “Something’s not right about this.”

“Yeah..”

“Why would it matter to be better than Frank?”

“It’s a game, Yersova.” Dinah said firmly. “You know Billy just wants to get back at you and Frank so he’s messing with your head.”

“I can’t stop thinking that it was all planned.” You continued. “The women at Valhalla get escorted out the main room. Why were they in that office? And why did Billy lead Frank there? If he didn’t have the women leave, he would’ve known they were there.”

“There’s a lot about the crime scene that doesn’t add up…” Dinah agreed.

“And Billy calling like that. It means something, right?” Karen looked to you.

“I think so.” You nodded. “If I had just looked closer at their bodies…”

“It’s Mahoney’s case.” Dinah added. “He’s not gonna let either of us in close enough. I know I wouldn’t if it were the other way around.”

“If there is even the slightest chance that Frank didn’t do this, we have to check it out.” Karen urged. “C’mon, Liv, you owe him that much.”

There it was again. Someone saying you owed Frank something. You weren’t really sure if you did or didn’t when it came down to it. Sure, he could’ve killed you when you first met, but it was in his best interest not to. He could’ve let you die at the carousel, but he fought tooth and nail for you to live because it was his vendetta too. He could’ve left you at Valhalla, but he took the beating so you didn’t have to because it was his unfinished business. Yet every time, the first priority seemed to be your wellbeing. Your survival.

“Dinah, you talked to his psych.” You turned to her. “What did you talk about?”

“Just that to understand one you had to understand the other.” She shrugged. “We talked about their differences and how Frank was better than Billy because-“

“You’re no better than me. That’s what Billy said on the phone.” You pointed out firmly. “She knows where he stays and she still talks to him. You gave her exactly what Billy needed.”

“What are you saying?” Karen asked.

“It’s the center of gravity approach. You don’t attack someone directly but you go after what’s most important to them. For Frank, his code. For me…” You rubbed the tattoo at the back of your neck. “It’s the same tactic Fisk used against me. It’s something I used for years. It works, clearly.”

“Frank seemed pretty sure back there.” Dinah countered.

“But it doesn’t feel right.”

“Besides, you know you can’t accuse Krista of aiding and abetting or collusion without proof.”

“You’re on a first name basis now?” You accused and she sighed slightly.

“What if I can get us in the morgue?” Karen offered. “To take a look at the bodies.”

Your brows furrowed for a second before you nodded quietly. She returned the gesture and you both looked to Dinah. Her eyes went between you two in confusion before she sighed and agreed with her own nod. After a moment, you all followed Karen.

She took you to the morgue and introduced you - as FBI Special Agent Yersova - to the man at the desk, Ed. You smiled politely and shook his hand, but you were distracted by the man’s lack of shoes. Karen began to convince the man but he was still hesitant.

Before you could work magic of your own, Karen agreed to some unspoken request. You quirked a brow at the man’s giddy response but opted to stay quiet, if only to ensure you didn’t ruin anything. She turned and offered you a tight, uncomfortable smile, and you found some relief in knowing that what she had agreed to was a last ditch effort. You nodded and Ed guided you three to the bodies.

He gave a quick rundown but you tuned his words out. Everything inside the small room seemed to buzz, filling your head with an expectancy that manifested as pressure. No taste, no tingle, no colored mist. Just suffocating, engulfing pressure that felt like it would break through your ribs if you breathed too deeply.

Karen’s voice cut through the buzzing but the words didn’t make it to your ears. You dared to lean in closer, gently prodding near the bullet wounds. Ed reached out to stop you but you batted his hands away. As you palpated the dead woman’s stomach, you felt a twist of nausea. This was still a person, after all. You shook your head slightly and willed yourself to focus, to see past the lost life and find the evidence you needed.

“Gun powder.” You muttered.

“Yes!” Ed’s voice came to you like the ringing of a church bell and you almost winced at the sudden clarity. “The grains of it on her skin means she was hit at close range. Any of these would’ve been fatal.”

“But Castle wasn’t…” You trailed off, gently pining your arms back to your side. “What about the trajectory?”

“Exit wound was straight out, parallel to the ground. Someone stood right in front of this girl and unloaded right into her.”

“And that’s the same with all three?” Dinah asked. Another voice too loud. This time your head cocked and you winced mildly.

“Yeah.”

You pressed your lips together into a tight line to keep the relieved laugh down. You nodded in thanks to Ed before gesturing for Dinah and Karen to cross the room with you.

“Those women were executed.” You said quietly. “Frank didn’t do this.”

“Well, is this enough to convince him?” Karen asked.

“It’d hold up in court.” You nodded. “It has to.”

You and your friends tried to leave but Ed blocked the doorway. He kept his eyes downward, at your feet. You rolled your eyes slightly and had to refrain from kicking him in the shin. He just might like it. He was rambling about some no-so-nice nickname but you simply shoved past him with a quiet apology. You assumed Dinah was quickly behind you but you didn’t look back to see if Karen was with you or holding up whatever bargain she struck with Ed.

You nodded to the few workers on the floor, but you passed the officer that had been posted at the door. He told you about the shift change and to show your Bar ID to the new guy. You didn’t show it, but that feeling of something out of place settled in your stomach. You moved a little faster but the shouts from Frank’s room drove you to a full-on sprint.

You brandished your switchblade as you came up to the door. You threw your shoulder against the man that had Amy pinned to the ground and you two tumbled a few feet before knocking into the wall. You heard Amy’s coughs as she scrambled to her feet, Dinah and Karen talking over each other, Frank shouting for the man to go back to him. You were stuck under the faux officer’s weight and he kept a firm grip of the wrist for the hand holding the switch. You winced as his finger dug into the scar but your free hand scratched at his throat.

Deep red lines followed the path of your nails and he cried out, jerking his head to get away from your reach. His other hand pushed down on your throat and for a second, you were hit with the memory of a fight that felt like a lifetime again. Pinned under a fake officer, hands at your throat, all for someone that was the game changer you needed. Only there was no Man in the Mask coming to your rescue.

You blinked away the memory and turned your head to find your small knife. You wiggled it around in your fingers until you were able to change the angle of your blade. You watched the tip press against his wrist and you jerked your hand, shoving the sharp metal through his skin and bone. The very tip poked out the other side and the man cried out wildly. You slammed a knee upward and connected with either his stomach or his groin but his position faltered and you were able to throw him off. You righted yourself quickly and grabbed his head, slamming him to the floor until he fell unconscious.

“Yeah, thanks for the help.” You wheezed, glaring at Dinah.

Amy kicked the unconscious man with a made up not-quite curse word and you laughed breathlessly. After that, she fell against you and you wrapped one arm around her shoulders while the other hand rubbed your throat.

“What was that, huh?” Amy stepped away and yelled. Your brows raised at the outburst but you said nothing. “You were just gonna let him kill you?”

“What the hell, Frank?” You added, a rasp still in your voice.

“Frank, you didn’t do it.” Karen explained quickly.

“What are you talking about?” He asked tightly, but you didn’t miss that underlying hope.

“They were dead before you got there.” Dinah added.

Frank turned to you for confirmation.

“Exit wounds were straight through. Gunpowder still on their skin.” You nodded.

“But I- We were…”

“I know.” You urged. “It was a setup. I can’t prove this but I know Billy killed them. I thought those ladies were being escorted out before I met with you but they were walked to their executions.”

“You sure about that?” Frank finally met your eyes and the suffocating grip deep in your chest loosened enough for a full breath.

“He wanted to break you. He wanted to take away what mattered most to you and he damn near did.”

“You’re not the monster, Frank.” Karen added gently. “You never were.”

“This is great and all but what is that gonna for us right now?” Amy asked tensely. “That was a cop that just tried to kill him! What’s next, a nurse?”

At that point, everyone began talking over each other. Frank wanted out of the cuffs to kill the cop. Dinah was calling him an idiot. Karen wanted a plan. Amy was looking between everyone like a deer in headlights.

“Just shut up!” You shouted. You saw the white wave roll out of your chest and hit everyone in the room and you immediately regretted the lapse of control. Your power took hold of all four people and settled them to an eerie level of calmness. “Sorry.” You muttered when the glassy look left their eyes and they were in control of themselves again.

“What the hell?” Amy mumbled.

“Give us the room.” You told Amy and Dinah. “Just a minute, okay?”

Hesitantly, they left so you and Karen were the only ones in the room.

“Does that Matt Murdock know you’re here?” Frank asked Karen.

She looked to you and you gave a small shake of your head. Of course Matt didn’t know where you were, just the vague idea that you were in town and stuck in the middle of a dangerous war.

“What does that have to do with this?” She answered. “Come on, Karen.” He sighed. “He’s good. Don’t throw that away for me, either of you.”

“Matt trusts me to make my own choices as to what fight I’m in.” You said sharply as Karen undid the cuffs. “I expected you to do the same.”

“And it killed you last time, didn’t it?” He spat back before focusing back on Karen. “Walk away, Karen.”

She said nothing.

“Look, I know you both.” He began and you rolled your eyes. “You’re brave. You’re strong. But you’re both so goddamned stubborn that you will throw everything away for me and I cannot let that happen.”

You took a step forward but Karen reached for your arm.

“So they can risk everything but not me?” She said then gestured to you. “Not her?”

“Don’t do that, okay? That kid needs me to stay alive. Madani, she’s as batshit and lost as I am. And Livia?” He locked eyes with you. “Billy beat her so bad her heart stopped. He gets the chance again, no one’s gonna be able to restart it.”

“Да пошла ты.” You spat. (Fuck you.)

Karen continued trying to reason with him but you put your hands up in defeat, letting them fall back against your legs. You began pacing while they talked, registering their voices but not their words. You looked down and noticed she was barefoot, Was that what she agreed upon with Ed? Her shoes.

No wonder they called him Creepy Ed.

“I gotta walk outta here and you can’t do it with me.” Frank said quietly and when you looked back, he was standing a few inches from Karen.

You wanted to give both of them the push they needed, to admit that unspoken thing between them and finally break the tension, but it also felt wrong to do it to friends. You had no problem in college playing up on a new couple’s emotions. Back then it was like your special version of people watching, but it just felt like crossing a line to do it to them. Luckily, the door opened before your power could start reaching.

Karen left first, offering you one questioning look. All you could do was nod. You retrieved your switchblade and wiped it on the officer’s uniform before you tucked it back into your pocket, replacing your blazer to hide your gun. You helped Dinah get Frank to the stairwell while Amy played her role as a nurse to blend into the crowd. Dinah split from you at the base of the stairs and you kept with Frank.

He leaned heavily on you and you were just outside the hospital when Brett cut you off. You cursed quietly while he yelled instructions to drop your weapons. You released Frank so he could drop the cop’s belt and you put your hands up in surrender, slipping your fingers to pull two pins from your hair. The small pieces of metal dropped down either sleeve just before Brett snatched one of your wrists. As he pulled your arms down and behind your back, the pins slid out and landed in your palms. You slipped the thin metal into the latch for the cuffs so they didn’t quite lock while he was muttering about obstruction and how it was only a matter of time before he had to cuff you.

He locked Frank’s other cuff around one of the handrails in the back before he shoved you inside. Frank met your eyes with an apologetic expression but you smiled.

You hadn’t lost quite yet.

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lokidjarin-7567 · 1 month ago

Text

Day 14: Threesome

Frank Castle x Matt Murdock x You

Contents: fem!reader x Frank Castle (The Punisher x Matt Murdock , FMM threesome

W/C: 2.4k

So… it’s been a while. I’ve been super busy and I’ve had awful writers block I’m sorry guys, but istg I will get this Kinktober done if it’s the last thing I do. But I made this one nice and long and slutty to make up for it!! I love Frank and Matt and hopefully yall do too <3

Kinktober Masterlist | General Masterlist | AO3

“Fuck.. Frank,” you whined, eyes rolling back into your head with how far inside he was hitting you, how thick he felt.

“What is it, baby, you want me to go harder?” You whimpered in response, desperate for more but not even being able to speak, already winded from his relentless pace. “Go on, baby, let him hear you.” It dawned on you then - he could hear you. Your bedroom was adjoining the guest room where Matt was sleeping, and with his sense, there was no doubt that he could hear everything…

Oh God, he could hear everything…

You did your very best to keep quiet, even as he rubbed you clit, and somehow pressed himself further into you. You even tried to hold you breath, your pants, but even if you somehow managed that, he would still hear your heartbeat, or the filthy noises Frank was making every time his body met yours.

“Let him hear you.” He repeated, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “You hear that, Red.” He spoke with a challenging tone, quiet, sure, but loud enough for Matt to hear, and the thought made you shudder, pussy fluttering around him. “I know you want her too, don’t you? It’s pretty damn obvious…” It was a taunt, blatant and outright, one that you were sure Matt wouldn’t respond to. But then you heard movement in the room next to you. Frank’s finger moved to your lips, sealing them shut with one thick fidget across your cupids bow. He burrowed himself into you, pressing deep and holding himself inside, letting you whine between closed lips. Matt’s footsteps were audible in the next room, even over the blood rushing in your head. He was pacing back and forth. Deliberating. Frank’s finger then left your mouth, trailing down your body to your clit and pressing small circles around it as his cock still filled you. You whimpered, legs shaking as he continued to keep you close to your edge.

“Reddd,” he cooed, desperately trying to goad him with that stupid nickname, “she’s close…”

Surely he wouldn’t actually join you. Of course, Frank wasn’t exactly wrong. You’d noticed the way his head cocked when you spoke, the way he stood close to you when you were working together, as though guarding you. The way he seemed almost dejected when Frank kissed you, or put his arm around you in protection.

You had noticed it most obviously today. You and Frank had finally found the ring of traffickers you had been tracing for weeks, and of course, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t far behind. It had been happening more frequently - running into each other out in the city - and the first few times, Matt and Frank had tried to out-testosterone each other, as though claiming their territory. It took a while, but eventually, you had helped them see how much better they worked together.

And today was no different. It was a matter of minutes until they were all incapacitated and the police were called, and not the corrupt ones, as Matt assured you consistently. Frank was more of a take-justice-into-your-own-hands kind of vigilante, which you didn’t mind. For the most part, you even agreed with him. ‘Dead men don’t rape’ had been your mantra since you were thirteen. But it was refreshing not always having to spill blood. Well, not as much as usual anyway.

The problem was, Matt had been badly hurt. You hadn’t even noticed until he collapsed onto the tarmac, blood gushing from his side, and a nasty welt blooming on his cheek. You were panicking quickly. He usually didn't show when he got hurt. You’d seen his entire back sliced open and he still managed to fight, but now, he could barely walk, and there was no chance he was making it all the way to his home. You begged Frank to let you bring him to your apartment and patch him up. Matt argued weakly, barely able to form coherent sentences, but Frank quickly caught on to your distress, telling him to stop moaning and that it this happening whether he liked it or not.

The three of you managed to stumble home, practically carrying Matt up the stairs to your lousy place. You settled him on the couch before grabbing the first-aid kit you had made up as soon as you and Frank had started this vigilante… thing - you weren’t even sure what to call it really.

“Sorry…” you muttered quietly, as you tried to ascertain where the blood was coming from. He winced as your fingers grazed over his side. “I can’t see where this…” You were quiet, mumbling as you tried to cover up your awkwardness. You needed to take his suit off, but even if he was bleeding, you didn’t quite feel comfortable just undressing him.

“Let me have a look.” Frank said, placing three glances of whiskey on the table. Matt had gotten your subtle hint and started to unstrap his body armour as Frank settled next to him. It turned out to be a stab wound, along with a nasty gash that stretched down his side, shallower than it initially looked though.

“This is gonna hurt, Red..” he muttered, grabbing the antiseptic and bandages. You sat of the edge of the coffee table, grabbing a wipe to clean the small wound on his face, hoping to provide distraction. As soon as Frank started, he hissed in pain, hand shooting out to your thigh and grabbing hard. You had tried your best not to noticed, but you couldn’t help but glanced down at his bare torso as you continued to carefully blot at the cut on his cheek, watching the way his muscles flexed in pain, and the rise and fall of his chest with each steading breath he took. You blushed lightly as you continued to work, but you could feel Frank glancing at you.

He wasn’t insecure in the slightest. And your relationship was very much an open one - with your histories and professions, it would be stupid not to be. But he had never seen it in real life: the look you usually gave him being aimed towards somebody else.

And now you were here, under his strong body, trying not to climax too early and listening intently for the slightest hint that Matt was going to respond to his taunt.

And then he did. You could hear footsteps quickening, then pausing right outside the door, a soft curse muttered under his breath. You whimpered in disappointment, frustration building as Frank fucked into you hard and his fingers moved faster against your aching core.

“Fuck, Matt, are you coming in or not?” You whined it quietly, cautiously. Just loud enough that he could hear, but just quiet enough that you all had plausible deniability if he changed his mind. Luckily for you, he hadn’t.

The door flew open and he strode to you urgently, pressing his lips against yours with fervor. The first taste of him was overwhelming—something you'd wanted for so long, finally happening, and it was better than you could have hoped. You could only imagine how he felt in that moment, his groan of relief and passion falling into your mouth. Your hand flew to his hair, fingertips running through the soft locks. His hand cupped your chin then traced lower, forming a delicate cage around your neck, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against the sensitive skin there. You whined against his lips, your hips bucking into Frank uncontrollably. He had been watching the two of you with a dark look on his face, buried to the hilt inside you. It suited him. He was possessive but not jealous, protective but not obsessive—a perfect middle ground that he thrived in.

His thrusts deepened, and you let out a yelp at the sudden increase of pressure. Matt smiled. His fingers moved from your neck, trailing down your collarbone and lower until he was circling your nipple. He barely touched you, light as air, yet the sensation was dizzying. He started to increase the pressure until he was ready, and then he pinched, just hard enough to send a sharp jolt of pleasure straight to your head. Paired with the way Frank was fucking you, his thumb still circling your clit, it wasn't long before you were coming undone. White hot pleasure overwhelmed your senses, muscles locking and shaking under their expert touches. You tried to moan, the guttural sound escaping you, but Matt’s mouth swallowed it.

“That’s it baby…” Frank crooned, still fucking you through it. “Atta girl.”

It was a while before you could breath again, body still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm, but you barely had time to recover before you were being moved. You just about registered when your body hit Frank’s solid form, his arms wrapping around you as he tried to manhandle you into position, whispering sweet instructions in your ear.

“You’ve got another round in you, don’t you gorgeous? That’s it, good girl, on your hands and knees for us… give Red a chance to feel that pretty pussy of yours.” You were exhausted, totally fucked out, but when you felt Matt’s hands slide up the back of your thighs, onto your back and hips, as though trying to commit the very shape of you to his memory, you could feel yourself getting wet again. You nodded, smiling up at Frank through half lidded eyes and settling into position, arching your back for the gorgeous man behind you. You glanced back to see him, now stripped naked, his arms flexing as he gripped your hips tight, a low groan escaping his lips. A hand fell to your chin, pulling your attention back to the man in front of you, thumb smearing across your lips then into your mouth. Reminding you who you belonged to. After all the flirting, the teasing, the fucking… you were his. However non-committal you were, however far away you were, whoever you were with, deep down you knew, you would always fall back into his arms.

A knowing smile flashed across his face. He knew it. As you knelt there, his thumb in your hot mouth, your back arched for another man but your eyes on him, he knew he had you.

And that was why he let Matt sink into you. You moaned around Frank’s thumb as he slowly pressed himself deep, feeling every inch of him as he controlled the pace with his fingers biting into your hips. You tried to buck backwards, to make him speed up, to just fuck you already, but he wouldn't let you, his strength keeping you exactly where he wanted you. When his hips finally met your ass, he let out a low growl, pressing his body to the back of yours, and Frank finally freed your mouth, allowing Matt to gather your hair in his hand and twist your head back to kiss you hungrily. His lips left yours, and you whined, but then the hand in your hair started guiding you down towards Frank’s waiting cock, thick and hard and leaking precum and you realised it had been his hand all along. Frank’s. You shouldn't be surprised. You knew he was always in control, and sex was no different.

As your ready mouth sank down onto his erection, he wasted no time bottoming out, pressing into your throat and letting you gag around him just as Matt started to move, dragging out of you with aching patience, then rutting back in. It only took a few thrusts before he was losing control, and his pace quickened, whines and pants and curses falling from his lips as his hips slapped against you. When Frank finally pulled you off him, you were gasping, but he didn't let you have much of a breather, just enough to ease the burning in your lungs a tiny bit. Tears were pricking in your eyes, but he soothed you with praises and pet names, and you knew you could take it. You would take anything he gave you. He pulled you off again, but this time, not enough to take even a full breath before he pressed himself completely into your throat. You had never taken so much before, nose pressing against the very base of him, and you could taste yourself on him, a realisation that made your cunt flutter around Matt, earning a groan. You swallowed around him, eager to please, and it was enough. He stuttered your name, pressing you just a touch deeper, before he came down your throat, and you swallowed quickly, not wanting to waste a single drop.

He finally released you when he was completely spent, letting your head fall to the bed as you desperately caught your breath. You couldn't relax for long though, as Frank scooped you up once more, shuffling forward as your body was flush with his, head lulling over his shoulder. This position meant Matt was fucking up into you, hitting a spot that made you whimper in pure ecstasy, so good you could do nothing but dig your nails into Frank’s back. He growled, hand trailing down your body to find your clit and gently circle, pressure so light you shouldn’t have felt a thing, but you were already so overstimulated, so pent up, and with the way Matt was reaching that perfect place, you were so close.

“There you go pretty girl… that's it baby come on his cock for me…” Frank’s words were the last thing you needed to push you over the edge and you cried out, pleasure so good it was almost painful, whole body squirming in his arms. Matt’s hips stuttered, and he bit down onto your shoulder to suppress his moan as he came inside you, hands still firmly gripping your hips and grinding into you.

Your mind was hazy when you were finally finished, completely melted in Frank’s arms, Matt’s cock still inside you.

“This isn't going to become a habit now, pretty boy. Don't get it twisted. It was only because you got stabbed.” Matt just chuckled, his body collapsing into yours and you felt his cheek against your shoulder, hot breath fanning across your upper arm.

“It was worth it.”

#kinktober 2024 #fanfic #kinktober #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x you #daredevil smut #daredevil fanfiction #frank castle x you #frank castle smut #punisher x you #daredevil x you #frank castle x matt murdock #frank castle x matt murdock x you #marvel #the punisher smut

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keekee-23 · 4 months ago

Text

Unspoken Desires

A Y/N x Damian Priest Fanfiction

Warning: Smut

Summary: Damian Priest offers Y/N a place to stay during her house fumigation. She accidentally catches Damian in an intimate moment, leading to a passionate encounter that reveals their hidden feelings.

Y/N sighed as she locked the front door of her house, taking one last glance at the “Fumigation in Progress” sign staked in her front yard. She knew it was necessary, but the inconvenience of finding somewhere to stay for a few days wasn’t something she’d anticipated. Fortunately, her good friend Damian Priest had offered her a solution. He had invited her to stay at his place until the fumigation was complete. While she initially hesitated, his genuine concern and insistence had won her over.

The thought of being so close to Damian made her nervous, not because she feared for her safety—she knew he would protect her without a second thought—but because of the feelings she had been harboring for him, feelings she had kept hidden for far too long.

When she arrived at Damian’s place, she was struck by how comfortable and inviting it was. Damian’s home was a perfect reflection of him—modern, stylish, and undeniably masculine. The walls were adorned with a mixture of Batman, horror paraphilia and Asian inspired decor, and the furniture was sleek yet comfortable.

He greeted her with his usual charming smile, his tall, muscular frame leaning casually against the doorframe.

“Make yourself at home, Y/N,” Damian said, his voice smooth and inviting. “I’m really glad you decided to stay here. It’ll be nice having some company.”

Y/N returned his smile, though her heart was pounding in her chest. “Thanks, Damian. I really appreciate you letting me crash here. I didn’t want to impose.”

“You’re not imposing at all,” he assured her, his dark eyes holding hers for a moment longer than usual. “I’m happy to have you here.”

The warmth in his voice made her stomach flutter. She had always been attracted to Damian—who wouldn’t be? He was tall, tatted, handsome, and had an effortless charisma that drew people to him. But there was more to him than his looks. He was kind, thoughtful, and had a way of making her feel special, even when she was just a friend in his orbit. And now, staying under his roof, she couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way about her.

After Y/N settled in, Damian insisted on making dinner. He moved confidently around the kitchen, his strong hands expertly chopping vegetables and seasoning the meat. Y/N watched him from the kitchen island, admiring the way his muscles flexed under his shirt as he worked.

“You’re quite the chef,” Y/N remarked, trying to distract herself from the way her body was reacting to him.

Damian chuckled, glancing at her over his shoulder. “I like to cook. It helps me unwind after a long day. Plus, it’s a great way to impress guests.”

Y/N smirked, feeling a little more at ease. “Well, consider me impressed.”

They ate together at the dining table, the atmosphere comfortable but with an undercurrent of tension that neither could ignore. They talked about everything and nothing— her job, his upcoming wrestling tours, their mutual friends, old memories—but there was something different about their conversation tonight. Damian seemed more attentive, his gaze lingering on her lips when she spoke, his hand brushing hers when he passed her the salt. Y/N felt the heat rise in her cheeks every time their eyes met.

After dinner, they moved to the living room. Damian poured them each a glass of wine, and they sat on the couch, the dim lighting creating an intimate ambiance. They continued talking, their conversation flowing easily, but Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to happen, something that would change everything between them.

When it was finally time to call it a night, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. The day had been surprisingly perfect, and the thought of it ending left her with a longing she couldn’t quite shake.

“Goodnight, Damian,” she said softly as he showed her to the guest room, the wine having left her feeling warm and slightly flushed.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he replied, his voice low and filled with something she couldn’t quite place. “Sleep well.”

She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, letting out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. Her heart was still racing, her mind replaying every moment of the evening. It was as if something had shifted between them, something subtle but undeniable.

Y/N changed into her pajamas and slipped into the guest bed, but sleep wouldn’t come.

Her mind replayed the evening's events, the way Damian had looked at her, the subtle touches that sent shivers down her spine. Did he feel the same way she did? Or was she imagining things, letting her attraction to him cloud her judgment?

Sometime later, she woke up with the need to use the bathroom. She rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep as she padded down the hallway. On her way back to the guest room, something caught her attention. Damian’s bedroom door was slightly ajar, and a soft light spilled into the hallway.

Curiosity got the best of her, and Y/N found herself peeking through the crack in the door. What she saw made her heart stop.

Damian was lying on his bed, his shirt discarded on the floor, his muscular chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. One hand gripped the sheets beside him, while the other was wrapped around his length, moving with steady, deliberate strokes. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she realized what she was witnessing. But what shocked her more than anything was hearing him moan her name, his voice thick with desire.

“Y/N…”

The sound of her name falling from his lips sent a shockwave of arousal through her body. She should have turned away, given him his privacy, but she was rooted to the spot, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight of him pleasuring himself, thinking of her.

She bit her lip, feeling a rush of heat between her thighs as she watched him. The sight of Damian in such an intimate moment, his face contorted in pleasure as he whispered her name, was the most erotic thing she had ever witnessed. Her pulse quickened, and she felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to go to him, to be the one to satisfy the desire he was feeling.

But just as she tried to back away, her foot accidentally bumped into a small table by the wall, the sound echoing loudly in the silent hallway. She froze, her heart leaping into her throat as Damian’s eyes snapped open and locked onto hers.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Y/N’s face burned with embarrassment, her mind racing as she tried to come up with an excuse, anything to explain why she was standing there, watching him. But Damian’s expression was calm, almost amused, as if he had been expecting this all along.

Slowly, he sat up and adjusted himself. His movements were deliberate as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. Y/N’s eyes were drawn to his body, the way his muscles flexed as he moved, the sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. He didn’t seem the least bit ashamed of being caught in such a compromising position. If anything, he looked pleased.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down her spine.

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Her brain was still trying to process what she had just seen, what she was still seeing. Damian’s eyes were dark with desire as he stood and slowly walked toward her, his movements predatory, like a panther stalking its prey.

Y/N’s body reacted before her mind could catch up, her heart pounding in her chest as he approached. She knew she should turn and run, retreat to the safety of the guest room, but she couldn’t move. The way he was looking at her, with such raw, unfiltered lust, made her knees weak.

When he was only a foot away, Damian reached out, his hand cupping her cheek as he gazed down at her. His touch was warm, his thumb gently stroking her skin as he tilted her head up to meet his eyes.

“I didn’t expect you to see that,” he murmured, his voice sending vibrations through her body. “But I’m glad you did.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. There was something in his tone, something in the way he was looking at her, that made her feel like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to fall. Her mind was racing, trying to process what was happening, but all she could focus on was the heat radiating from his body, the way his breath ghosted over her skin.

“I… I didn’t mean to—” she started, but Damian cut her off with a soft shush.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?” he whispered, his hand coming up to caress her cheek. His touch was gentle, but there was a firmness to it that made her shiver. “How long I’ve imagined this?”

Y/N’s breath hitched. She could hardly believe what she was hearing, but the sincerity in his voice, the intensity in his eyes, left no room for doubt. He wanted her—just as much as she wanted him.

“I’ve thought about you, too,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it, but she didn’t care anymore. The truth was out, and there was no taking it back now.

Damian’s eyes darkened with desire, and before she could say another word, he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. Y/N melted into him, her hands coming up to clutch his shoulders as she returned the kiss with equal fervor.

The kiss was everything she had imagined it would be—intense, passionate, and filled with a longing that had been building between them for so long. Damian’s hands roamed her body, exploring every curve with a reverence that made her feel cherished, desired. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers in a way that made her toes curl.

He pulled her closer, his body pressing against hers, and Y/N moaned softly into his mouth. She could feel the heat of his arousal through his boxers against her, and it only fueled her own desire. She wanted him—needed him—more than she had ever needed anyone.

Without breaking the kiss, he lifted her off the ground, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried her toward the bed. Y/N’s heart pounded with excitement as he laid her down gently, his body hovering over hers, every movement deliberate, as if he was savoring the moment.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and desire. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Me too,” Y/N admitted, her voice trembling with anticipation. She reached up, tracing the lines of his jaw with her fingertips, marveling at the softness of his skin beneath her touch. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Damian.”

Her confession seemed to ignite something in him. With a low growl, Damian claimed her lips once more, the kiss searing and intense. His hands were everywhere, sliding beneath her shirt to push it up and over her head, discarding it carelessly to the floor. Y/N’s breath hitched as his hands moved to her bra, deftly unclasping it before tossing it aside. He paused for a moment, his gaze raking over her exposed chest, his eyes darkening with desire.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He leaned down, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her neck, down to her collarbone, and lower still. Y/N’s breath hitched as he kissed his way down to her breasts, his tongue flicking out to tease one of her hardened nipples.

Y/N gasped, her back arching off the bed as Damian gently took her nipple into his mouth, sending a surge of pleasure through her. The sensation was overwhelming, and she instinctively tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as he lavished her breasts with tender attention. His tongue teased and his lips caressed, each movement igniting a fire that spread through her entire body. Damian’s hands began to explore further, slipping under the waistband of her shorts with a deliberate, slow motion, smoothly tugging them down along with her panties, leaving her exposed and vulnerable.

Once she was completely bare before him, Damian paused to drink in the sight of her. His eyes traced every curve, every inch of her exposed skin with an intensity that made Y/N’s heart race. The heat of his gaze made her skin tingle, and she felt a flush rise to her cheeks under his thorough scrutiny. Yet, despite her initial shyness, the way he looked at her—with such raw, unfiltered admiration—made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

Y/N's thoughts blurred, lost in the whirlwind of sensations coursing through her. The earlier embarrassment she had felt was now a distant memory, drowned out by the overwhelming desire that consumed her. All she could focus on was Damian—how incredible his touch felt, how deeply she craved him. Every caress, every kiss was like a spark to the fire burning within her, intensifying her need for him with each passing moment.

Sensing the depth of her longing, Damian's lips began to travel lower, brushing over the soft, sensitive skin of her stomach, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. His hands followed, gentle yet firm, as they continued to explore her body. He paused briefly, lifting his gaze to meet hers, his eyes dark with desire and filled with a silent question. Y/N, breathless and unable to speak, simply nodded, her consent clear in the way her body responded to his touch.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Damian leaned down, his lips pressing a tender, lingering kiss to her inner thigh, sending a shiver of anticipation through her. Every movement, every touch, was filled with a reverence that made her feel cherished, desired, and utterly consumed by the moment.

Y/N bit her lip, a soft moan escaping her as his lips moved closer to the place where she needed him most. Her hands gripped the sheets beneath her, her body trembling with anticipation as Damian continued his exploration, his mouth leaving no inch of her untouched.

When his tongue finally flicked over her sensitive core, Y/N cried out, her hips lifting off the bed as a wave of pleasure crashed over her. Damian’s grip on her tightened, holding her in place as he delved deeper, his tongue teasing and tasting her with a skill that made her head spin.

He worked her with a precision that spoke of experience, his movements deliberate and focused. He knew exactly what he was doing, exactly how to drive her to the edge of ecstasy. Y/N’s moans grew louder, her body writhing beneath him as she lost herself in the sensation, her mind a blur of pleasure.

“Damian…” she gasped, her hands reaching for him, needing to feel him, to touch him.

Damian lifted his head, his lips glistening with her arousal as he crawled back up her body. He kissed her deeply, allowing her to taste herself on his tongue, and Y/N’s desire for him only intensified. She could feel him, hard and ready against her thigh, and she wanted him inside her, needed him more than anything she had ever needed before.

“I need you,” she whispered against his lips, her voice trembling with the intensity of her longing.

Damian didn’t keep her waiting long. He quickly stripped away his boxers, revealing his tatted muscular body in all its glory. Y/N’s eyes roamed over him, taking in the sight of his broad shoulders, the defined muscles of his chest and abs, the way his body seemed to radiate strength and power. And then there was the hard, thick length of him, standing proudly between his legs, a clear testament to his desire for her.

Y/N swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry as her eyes locked onto his. Damian’s gaze was molten with need as he climbed back onto the bed, positioning himself between her thighs. He leaned down, capturing her lips in another heated kiss as he guided himself to her entrance, the tip of him brushing against her wetness.

Y/N moaned softly into his mouth, her hips bucking instinctively as she sought to bring him closer. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, her body aching for him, for the fulfillment she knew only he could provide.

Damian groaned, the sound vibrating against her lips as he slowly began to push inside her. He moved with a deliberate slowness, inch by agonizing inch, stretching her, filling her completely. The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious combination of pleasure and pressure that had Y/N gasping for breath.

When he was fully seated inside her, Damian paused, his forehead resting against hers as they both took a moment to savor the feeling of being so intimately connected. Y/N’s breath came in shallow pants as she adjusted to the size of him, her body stretching to accommodate him in a way that felt almost sinful.

“You feel so good,” Damian whispered, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips before slowly beginning to move, withdrawing almost completely before sliding back in with a smooth, controlled thrust.

Y/N moaned, her head falling back against the pillows as she gave herself over to the sensation. Every thrust was measured, deliberate, as Damian took his time, building a slow, steady rhythm that left her trembling with need. He was relentless, driving into her with a precision that made her toes curl, each stroke sending waves of pleasure radiating out from her core.

“Damian,” she gasped, her fingers digging into his back as he increased the pace, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more demanding. The sound of their bodies coming together filled the room, a symphony of skin against skin, punctuated by the breathless moans and gasps that fell from her lips.

Damian shifted his angle slightly, his hips rolling in a way that hit just the right spot inside her, and Y/N cried out, her body arching off the bed as a powerful surge of pleasure washed over her. He was hitting all the right places, every thrust pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

Y/N’s world narrowed down to the feeling of Damian inside her, the heat of his body pressed against hers, the way he was driving her absolutely wild with every thrust. Her breath hitched as she felt the familiar coil of pleasure tightening in her lower belly, winding tighter and tighter with every movement.

Damian could sense her nearing the edge, and he increased his pace, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, as he sought to bring her to the peak of pleasure. His hand slid between their bodies, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves at her core and pressing down with just the right amount of pressure.

Y/N’s eyes flew open, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as the pleasure exploded within her, a white-hot burst of ecstasy that had her entire body trembling. She clung to Damian, her nails digging into his back as her orgasm crashed over her, wave after wave of intense pleasure rolling through her body. Y/N's moans filled the room, her voice raw and unrestrained as she gave herself over completely to the sensation.

Damian groaned in response, his own control fraying as he felt her walls tightening around him, pulsing with the force of her climax. The way she responded to him, the way her body moved with his, was pushing him to the edge faster than he expected. But he wasn’t ready to let go just yet. He wanted to make this moment last, to savor every second of being with her like this.

He slowed his pace slightly, his thrusts becoming deep and measured as he rode out her orgasm, drawing out her pleasure until she was left trembling and spent beneath him. Y/N's breath came in short, ragged gasps as the aftershocks of her release pulsed through her, her body still clinging to Damian's with a desperate need.

But Damian wasn’t done. He wasn’t satisfied with just one climax; he wanted to see her fall apart again, to hear her cry out his name as he took her to new heights of pleasure. With that thought in mind, he shifted his position slightly, hooking one of her legs over his shoulder to change the angle of his thrusts.

Y/N gasped as the new angle sent a jolt of pleasure straight to her core, her eyes fluttering shut as she felt another wave of arousal build within her. Damian’s movements were more controlled now, each thrust precise and deliberate as he pushed her closer and closer to another climax. His hand found her clit once more, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that had her hips bucking against him, chasing after that delicious friction.

“Damian, please,” Y/N whimpered, her voice desperate as she felt herself teetering on the edge once again. She was so close, so achingly close, and the need to fall over that edge was almost unbearable.

Damian’s eyes darkened at her plea, a growl rumbling in his chest as he increased the pace of his thrusts, driving into her with a renewed intensity. He could feel his own release building, the tight coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter with every thrust. But he held back, determined to bring her to the brink first.

“Y/N,” he groaned, his voice thick with need. “Come for me again, baby. I want to feel you fall apart around me.”

His words were like a trigger, pushing her over the edge with a force that took her breath away. Y/N’s body tensed, her back arching off the bed as her second orgasm slammed into her, even more powerful than the first. Her vision blurred, and she cried out his name, her voice hoarse and trembling with the intensity of her release.

The sight of her coming undone beneath him, the feel of her tight, pulsing walls around him, was Damian’s undoing. With a guttural moan, he finally let go, his hips snapping against hers as he buried himself deep inside her, his release hitting him with a force that left him trembling. He groaned her name, his voice rough and low as he spilled into her, his body shuddering with the intensity of his climax.

For a moment, they were both still, their bodies locked together as they rode out the last waves of their release. Y/N’s breath came in soft, ragged gasps, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Damian remained above her, his arms trembling slightly as he held himself up, his breath hot against her neck.

Finally, when their breathing began to slow and the room grew quiet once more, Damian gently pulled out of her, collapsing onto the bed beside her. He immediately wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as they both basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Y/N snuggled into his chest, her body still humming with the remnants of pleasure as she listened to the steady beat of his heart.

They lay like that for a long time, neither of them wanting to break the comfortable silence that had settled over them. Damian’s fingers traced lazy patterns on her back, his touch soothing and tender, as if he couldn’t get enough of feeling her skin against his.

Y/N sighed contentedly, her eyes fluttering shut as she let herself relax completely in his embrace. She had never felt so at peace, so completely satisfied, as she did in that moment. Everything felt right, as if this was exactly where she was meant to be.

“I’m glad you stayed,” Damian murmured after a while, his voice soft and filled with contentment. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his lips lingering against her hair.

“Me too,” Y/N replied, her voice equally soft as she nuzzled closer to him. She knew that things would be different between them now, that their relationship had shifted in a way that couldn’t be undone. But she wasn’t afraid of that change. In fact, she welcomed it.

There was no need for words in that moment. They both knew what had happened, and they both knew that it was the start of something new, something beautiful. And as they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, they knew that whatever came next, they would face it together.

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