#SCREAMING ABOUT THEEEM SINCE 2018
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𝚆𝙰𝚁 𝙷𝙰𝙳 𝙽𝙾 𝙱𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙴𝚂𝚂 𝙱𝙴𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙶𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙻𝙴, 𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁. It had no business feeling like a safe harbor in a storm, like comfort, like solace.It should not be easy to relax in the presence of a man known as the Scourge of the Underworld, especially when she herself was one of the most infamous criminals in the city and starred on dozens of most wanted lists. The Black Cat should have been another bullet casing left in the darkest corners of the city, another splatter of blood and viscera against the brick.
But instead, Felicia Hardy is treated to the resurrection of the Bayside skirtchaser that was Frank Castle, from before the deployments and the trauma. A twinkle of irresistable mischief, a slow and lazy smirk, just enough teasing and innuendo to titilate and tantalize. That kind of charisma had its own gravitational pull, effortlessly hooking the blonde thief into his orbit with flirtatious banter and with the promise of a good time. They'd been dancing around each other for weeks, which was the only reason she allowed him so close to her.
𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐀 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒, 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍.
❝ That all you got, old man? ��� Citrine eyes flutter from half mast, her lips aborting their chase of his with a pout. It was something so startling sweet, so delicate and tender, that she was unsettled — an unfamiliar warmth blossoming in her chest, flushing her cheeks and heating her from the inside out. Instead of taking the time to evaluate the emotion and process, Felicia reacted on impulse, falling into what was familiar and safe: heavy handed innuendo and flirtation. She reached out to grasp at the collar of his shirt, aiming to keep Frank from getting too far away. ❝ Kiss me like you mean it, Castle. ❞
❛ chaste . chastely kiss my muse . + @wardogsong
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