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tempobaekh · 1 month ago

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Short N’ Sweet

pairings: frank castle x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, suggestive, allusions to sex at the end and a tiny mention of sexual acts?? readers physical appearance is not mentioned

a/n: i am going absolutely feral for this man, like foaming at the mouth feral, gnawing at the bars of my enclosure kind of feral. and i also love sabrina and because of Halloween i got this idea, this might be a little late since yknow Halloween is over but i just got this idea so we can ignore that:) also i wanna thank my biggest fav frank writer @agirlcandream84 for inspiring me to write this. i absolutely love her work and the way she writes frank please go read some of her work. okay enough yapping from me

Halloween night was finally here, and you could barely contain your excitement. The costume you’d been planning had been kept under wraps—literally—and you’d teased Frank endlessly about it, keeping him guessing for weeks, knowing full well the look on his face would be priceless.

Ever since you’d seen Sabrina Carpenter's iconic outfits from her Short N’ Sweet tour, the idea had taken root. Glitz, glam, a bit of sparkle, and a lot of confidence—that was going to be your vibe tonight. And you knew it would knock Frank’s socks off.

Or maybe more like knock his pants off.

Frank, being Frank, wasn’t exactly putting in the same level of effort. He’d gone with his usual all-black getup: a black shirt that fit him just right, dark pants, combat boots, and his well-worn jacket. Not much of a costume, but with his gruff demeanor and dark eyes, he still looked intense and dangerously handsome.

You’d teased him about needing a 'proper' Halloween costume, but he’d only smirked, knowing you’d be the one to steal the show. Still, he was eager to see you; he’d been waiting all week, and you could feel the thrill of his anticipation even through the closed door.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” he called out.

With one last deep breath, you slipped on a towel and cinched it tight around your chest, and stepped out of the bathroom, strutting a little as your heels clicked on the hardwood as you made your way toward him

He looked up when he heard you approaching, his gaze immediately sharpening with curiosity. You watched as his eyes narrowed slightly, scanning you up and down in curiosity. "You gonna tell me what the costume is, sweetheart?” he asked, a little smirk creeping onto his lips.

A mischievous smile played on your lips as you took a step closer, letting him get a little look at your carefully styled hair and the faint sparkle of the makeup you’d applied.

“Mm, you could say that,” you teased, giving him a wink. “But the real costume’s under here. Want to see?”

“Hell yes, I do,” he murmured, his gaze darkening, lips twitching in that half-smile of his that always drove you wild. “C’mon, darlin’—let me see it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You took a step back, giving him a grin, and with a flourish, you unwrapped the towel and tossed it aside, holding out your arms as you posed.

Frank’s reaction was immediate. His jaw went slack, his dark eyes going wide as he took you in. His gaze roamed up and down, lingering on every detail—from your heels up your bare legs, taking in the glittering, skin-colored tights that shimmered like liquid gold. He lingered on the lacy, sparkling red bodysuit that hugged every curve perfectly, bedazzled in red crystals that caught the light with each tiny shift and gave you an ethereal, almost unreal glow. The garters—lacy, sparkling, and just suggestive enough to make his jaw clench—added an extra edge to the look.

When he finally found his voice, he only managed a rough, “Damn, sweetheart.”

Laughing, you spun around, tossing the towel aside and letting him see the details you’d added just for him. He took in the bedazzled kiss mark on the top of your right inner thigh, positioned right where he always planted kisses with his face and tongue buried between your legs as you writhe and moan with pleasure under him. And when you turned around, you knew he’d see the second kiss mark on your left shoulder blade—another favorite spot of his when he has you on your hands and knees and thrusting into you from behind.

You felt the air between you shift, and a shiver ran down your spine at the brief image in your head.

“You like it?” you asked, turning around and looking at him, enjoying the way his eyes roamed over you, taking in every last detail.

Frank’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he closed the distance between you, his large hands resting on your hips before he traced one finger down to that kiss mark on your thigh.

"Sweetheart…" he murmured, sounding almost reverent. “You look…”

"Too much?" You asked, feigning a worried tone, but you couldn’t hide your smile.

"Too much? No… no, darlin’, it's perfect," he said, reaching out to gently run a hand along your arm, his fingers grazing the crystals. His voice was low, roughened with restrained desire as he brushed his thumb over the spot. “Did you put this here just for me?”

You smiled, heart racing. “Maybe. Figured it might be a nice little reminder for you.”

His fingers skimmed up to your waist, tugging you closer, his hands warm and possessive. “Can’t lie… I’m definitely thinkin’ about ditchin’ Josie’s altogether tonight.”

“But it’s Halloween,” you teased, giving him a look that only seemed to make him hungrier. “We can’t just skip it, Frankie. Besides, I want to show off a little.”

“You’re killin’ me here,” he muttered, his voice dropping as he leaned down, brushing his lips against your neck. His fingers flexed against your waist. “Whole place is gonna be starin’ at you. Don’t think I’m gonna be able to keep my hands off you, darlin’.”

You laughed softly. "Guess you'll have to try, Castle."

He let out a low groan, and you felt his hands slide lower to your behind. "Yeah, easy for you to say when you’re wearin’… this." His eyes dipped down to the kiss mark on your thigh, a possessive gleam in his gaze as pulle away and traced the outline with his thumb again. "This here… You’re just tryin’ to drive me insane, aren’t ya?"

You shrugged, an innocent smile on your face. "Maybe. Or maybe I’m just giving you something to look forward to, and besides, you're the only one who gets to take it off me.”

That got his attention. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “You keep talkin’ like that, and we’re not makin’ it to Josie’s tonight, baby. But we’re not stayin’ long. Got… plans for when we get back.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the grin across your face. "Come on, big guy. Try to survive the night without dragging me home too early."

When you arrived at Josie’s to meet up with Karen and her friends from her law firm, you caught more than a few looks. Heads turned, eyes lingered, and you could feel Frank tense beside you, his arm protectively draped around your waist as he pulled you in close.

Every now and then, he’d lean down to murmur, “You know, you’re lucky I’m keepin’ it together.”

“Oh, I know,” you replied each time with a wink, enjoying every bit of his attention.

As the night went on, Frank’s hands couldn’t seem to leave you alone, not that you minded. They’d drift to the small of your back, settle on your hip, or tug you closer to him. It wasn’t possessive so much as it was protective—he just wanted you to himself and wasn’t shy about it.

The night was fun, filled with drinks, laughs, and compliments from Karen and Marci who appreciated the sheer effort you’d put into your costume. But the real thrill was feeling Frank’s hand skimming along your waist, his fingers brushing the bare skin where your tights met your bodysuit. Every time he leaned down to murmur something downright filthy in your ear, you could feel the low, restrained fire in his voice that would make your thighs clench.

Finally, as midnight approached, Frank leaned in close, voice low and warm against your ear. "Alright, darlin’. I think we’ve done our part here. Time to go home."

You couldn’t help but smile as you glanced up at him. "Couldn’t wait to get me alone, huh?"

"Not one bit," he admitted, his fingers lacing through yours as he led you out of Josie’s and into the cool night air.

The drive back home felt like a blur, and as soon as you got home, his hands were on you the second you closed the door. He pulled you close, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

Frank’s lips moved against yours with a fervor that made your knees weak, his hands roaming your back with an almost desperate energy. His touch was firm but reverent, like he was savoring every inch of you. The smooth leather of his jacket pressed cool against your bare arms as he pulled you flush against him, his strength and warmth radiating through the layers between you.

“You’re killin’ me, sweetheart,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and thick with want. His hand drifted to your thigh, his fingers brushing over the kiss mark there, and he let out a soft, possessive growl. “This right here? This ain’t fair.”

You smiled against his mouth, your breath hitching as his fingers teased along the edge of your garter. "I thought you liked it," you teased, your voice a little breathless.

"Like it?" He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes blazing as they swept over you. "I can’t think straight, darlin’. All night, all I’ve been thinkin’ about is gettin’ you alone."

His hands slipped to your hips, gripping just firmly enough to remind you of his strength as he guided you back toward the couch. You let out a soft laugh, but it caught in your throat when he leaned down, trailing kisses along your jaw, then down your neck. He paused just at the hollow of your throat, his stubble grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Frankie…” you whimpered, your hands tangling in his hair as his lips continued their path, brushing over the crystals adorning your shoulder blade.

He hummed against your skin, his breath warm and tantalizing. “You knew exactly what you were doin’, wearin’ this,” he said, his tone somewhere between a grumble and a purr. His fingers toyed with the edge of the bodysuit, skimming over the the crystals adorning the fabric. “You’re lucky I got any patience left.”

"Maybe I don’t want you to be patient," you replied, your voice soft but laced with mischief as you tugged him back to meet your lips.

Frank chuckled darkly, his hands tightening their grip on your hips. "Careful what you ask for, sweetheart," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours. The way he said it, low and promising, sent a thrill straight through you.

And with that, he captured your lips again, deeper this time, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was setting the stage for something as bold and electric as the confidence you wore tonight.

Note: gifs, pictures, and header DOES NOT belong to me. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback and reblog is appreciated.<3

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sinsandsweetness · 1 year ago

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thinking about living across the hall from Frank…

-> always running into him at the most random times. in the elevator or the lovey super late at night or bright and early in the morning. When he’s on his way to a job and you’re coming back from work. Or you’re on your way to study at the library and he’s got his keys and a bag of groceries in his hands. Always giving you a little nod of acknowledgment but neither of you ever have the courage to speak. To actually say hi.

-> until one day where you get locked out of your apartment. You lost your keys or something. And with your luck, your roommate works the night shift at the hospital. You’ve got no way in until morning.

-> So you find yourself stuck. An hour goes by and you’re sitting on the dirty carpet hallway floor. Leaned up against the wall. Eyes fluttering closed because hell it’s been a long day. Frank, on his way home from work, makes his ways down the hall. Concerned at first by the sight of your body laying in the hall. But he gets to his door and it’s just you, half asleep. You give him a soft smile and he finally asks you for your name. You explain your situation and he nods in understanding.

“Well don’t just sit there. C’mon.” He’d wave you into his place, lunchbox in hand. Dirty from a day of construction. In desperate need of a shower and some food.

-> you’re reluctant to come in. Not because of Frank. Or at least not because you didn’t like him. More so… the opposite. You found him intimidating. Handsome. Rugged. You always enjoyed running into him. Smiling at him in the elevator. Trying not to blush too hard. But there’s just this aura about him that makes you a little nervous. Butterflies or something.

-> he’d tell you to make yourself at home while you wait to get ahold of your roommate. Or come up with a plan to get your keys. To call the landlord. Though you doubt they’d answer at this hour.

-> he asks if you’re alright if he showers, “I’ll be quick. You can help yourself to the fridge.” He even grabs you a beer and places it on the table in front of you. Cracking one for himself as he heads for the washroom.

-> it feels weird. Being in a strangers home. It’s empty. Sad almost. Grey walls. Nothing… personal. Nothing that tells you anything about the man. It’s clean. As clean as any of the suites in you cheap ass apartment can possibly get. But it’s bland. It’s a bachelor suite. He’s got nothing more than the necessities. The basics. You can’t help but think about Frank. In this apartment. Every night by himself. He must be lonely.

-> you saunter over to the fridge. Not particularly hungry, but feeling slightly awkward just sitting at his table and doing nothing. There’s enough to make a weeks worth of sandwiches. And a more than a few weeks worth of beer. You take a swig of your bottle.

-> when the water shuts off, you get back to your spot at the table. Checking your phone. The messages with your roommate. He’s probably busy. Drawing blood. Stitching people up. Doing whatever it is he does as a surgical intern.

-> “you get ahold of him?” Franks voice brings you back.

“Oh, no. He’s- he’s probably busy. Works at the hospital so… um… thanks for inviting me in, but uh, I can just wait out there.” You sling your bag over your shoulder, getting up to leave.

“Wait out there? All night?” He asks. Your gaze goes down to his shirt. A little damp where beads of water are running down his neck. Off his beard. You look back up. He’s got such pretty eyes, you notice.

“Yeah, i’ll be alright.” You give him a tight lipped smile. But he’s not having it.

He shakes his head, “here,” he grabs a blanket from the supply closet. And a pillow. A pillowcase. He fumbles with the makeshift bedding for a moment until he makes the couch up. It does look nicer than the stained hallway carpet.

“You can’t stay out there. There’s some real… weirdos in this area. Wouldn’t want anything happening to you.” His concern makes your stomach flutter. Even if it’s just human decency. Courtesy of not wanting you to get mugged or murdered.

“You really don’t have to-“ you try to deny the offer but he grabs your bag. Gently pulling it off your shoulders and placing it against the wall.

“It’s just for the night. I don’t mind. Seriously.” His eyes are serious. Brows furrowed in concern.

-> the couch is cozier than you expected. Worn and used in the most perfect way. It takes you no time to fall asleep. Frank on the other hand, is having some serious insomnia. There’s the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, right outside his bedroom. Sleeping on his couch. Probably making his blanket smell like her vanilla perfume. It’s making his brain all fuzzy. He can’t think. Well, he can’t not think. You’re wearing one of his tee shirts. He offered it up. No, he insisted. And when saying goodnight from his bedroom doorway, he couldn’t help but notice that your pants were folded up on top of your bag, and your bare legs gleamed in the dim light of the living room, as you fluffed up your pillow.

-> the two of you had some very interesting dreams that night.

-> Waking up to the smell of coffee, you’re blushing hard when he hands you a mug. He tells you he has to leave for work. Lunchbox in hand, jacket on.

-> He didn’t ask for his shirt back.

-> you wave Frank goodbye as you watch him head down the hallway, and at the same time, you see your roommate come out of the elevator at the end. Both of them exchange a nod and a glance. Your roommate jogs up to let you both into your place.

“You coulda came to the hospital. Coulda grabbed my keys,” he says plopping himself down on the couch. Rubbing his eyes. Long night for him as well.

“I didn’t even think about it. He just- Frank invited me in and I was so tired… I mean, it seemed like a better option than sleeping in the hall…”

“Well it was real nice of him. Maybe you should make him a dish or somethin’. Lasagna? Y’know, to say thank you.”

“You just want some lasagna don’t you?” You smirk, rolling your eyes.

Your roommate smiles back. A low chuckle escapes his throat. “The man let you sleep on his couch. You better be sayin’ thank you somehow.”

continued here

(Idk what this is tbh but um… let me know what we think??)

#officially writing for Frank now my loveys <3 #Frank castle x reader #frank x reader #Frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle imagine #frank daydream #frank castle

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dameronology · 11 months ago

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home (frank castle)

warnings: a little bit of frank being depressed but that's about it. probably language too? i don't even notice anymore.

this is the first thing i've written in so long and it's very short buuuut i hope you like it

--jazz xx

You could always tell when Frank had had a bad night.

The signs were clear as soon as he got home. Boots thrown to the side with a loud thunk (he would apologise for the noise in the morning); body haphazardly hitting the mattress beside you as he let out a huff of exhaustion. Normally, his hands would be on you before he even in bed. He had to sleep with his chest pressed to your back, arms wrapped tightly around you, any signs of breaking free met with intense refusal until the morning. You felt safe but he felt safer.

Tonight was different. You heard the crash of shoes, and the thump, thump, thump towards the bed. The mattress dipped beside you but instead of his hands, you were met with Frank's back to you. It was tense, littered with pink scars and red ones, and fresh cuts and bruises. You could have reached out, but you didn't want to push it. A few years ago, before you, before this, before he'd learnt love again, he probably wouldn't have come home at all. He would have stayed out til the crack of dawn, fighting, fighting, fighting; fists beaten to a pulp and every part of him rigid and exhausted to his very core. Frank had learnt now: when he got really bad, he had to come home. When the going got too tough even for him, it normally meant it was the end of night. You were just grateful he had come at all.

You said nothing; just a small sigh. For him, for you, for whatever the morning would bring.

10AM came quickly. It was a Sunday, so Manhattan was nice enough to wake a few minutes later than usual. The silence in your bedroom was quickly filled with the sound of horns and brakes and the yells of the outside world. You didn't have work that day, thank god. That meant there was no rush. Frank could rise whenever he wanted.

Except - fuck - you had forgotten to turn off your alarm. It came blaring out your phone as soon as the clock struck on the hour, vibrating across your bedside table and onto the floor with a loud thud. Frank, being the world's lightest and potentially most dangerous sleeper, quickly rose. His hair was getting longer now, so it was tuftier in the mornings. You would have laughed if your chest wasn't so heavy.

You quickly hopped out of bed, sheepishly picking up the phone.

"Shit," you muttered. "Frankie, I'm sorry."

He let out a grumble, rubbing his eyes. "It's okay. I had to wake up at some point."

"Are you okay?" you quietly asked. "I know you're not but...I gotta ask."

Frank didn't say anything - instead he just sighed. Then, he opened his arms and ushered for you to come back to bed. You did so without hesitation, dropping into the sheets beside him. Strong arms wrapped around you instantly, holding you to his chest, one hand cupping the back of your head. You'd always found irony in the fact that he had to be the one to hold you when he was upset. No matter how shit he was feeling, Frank was always the big spoon. His ability to protect you was the one thing he could control. It was the one thing that made him feel a little okay again.

"It was a really rough night," he quietly admitted. "I'll be okay, sweetheart. I just wanna take it easy today."

Frank said nothing else. What he had said was beyond anyone else's wildest dreams; this was coming from the man who made a point of closing himself off, from refusing himself love and anything good. You were the only person he would ever say anything too. It was safe to assume at any given moment that he wasn't okay, but he was a little closer to it when he was with you.

The rest of the morning went like a ghost.

You moved around each other with ease; his small touches lingered - a hand on your back here, another on your hip there - and you could tell he was coming back around. Sure, he burnt the first three pancakes and didn't realise the milk was out of date til after he'd poured it into your coffee, but he was being Frank. You would have been more worried if he'd cooked properly or made good coffee.

You'd moved to the sofa by midday, dirty plates piled up in the sink and Max snoring on the rug in the middle of your living room. Die Hard was playing quietly in the background (Frank argued it was an all year round movie). You were sat between his legs on the sofa, large thighs either side of yours and arms wrapped around your front. He had his head resting on top of yours, giving you the occasional squeeze with his legs and arms.

"I love you," Frank quietly murmured. He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You turned your head to look at him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I love you too."

"I'm sorry for being quiet last night. I didn't mean to ignore you."

"You don't have to apologise," you hummed. "I'm just grateful you came home."

"I'll always come home."

#frank castle #the punisher #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle fluff #frank castle angst #frank castle imagines #the punisher x reader #the punisher imagine #marvel imagines #marvel fluff #marvel angst #frank castle x you #frank castle reader insert #frank castle x y/n

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madschiavelique · 1 year ago

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𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐛 — 𝟏

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

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

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

⟢﹒ word count : 7,2k

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

⟢ next part : here

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's nothing, really."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Frank chuckled, preparing the needle properly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your lip's cut," he remarked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You immediately frowned, your lips parting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Scout's honour," you sighed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Red?" called Frank from the bedroom.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good morning," he offered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is it?" asked Matt.

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

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

You stopped in your tracks, turning back to them.

"You what ?" you questioned.

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

"You-"

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

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

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

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

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

⟢ next part : here

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caplanbuckybarnes · 4 months ago

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Frank Castle One Shots & Drabbles

All the links travel to ao3!

updated November 1 2024

Main Masterlist

Consider joining my tag lists?

Requesting Rules

Born to be Yours || Summary: He never expected a lonely woman like you to become so indebted in his life…

Bundle of Baby || Summary: Frank holds his new born baby for the first time

Lines of Blood || Summary: You back Frank up in a decision to burn down the enemy

Not What I Want || Summary: you find out about your boyfriend’s night time activities

Nothin' on You || Summary: Frank finds himself falling in love with a weak and sickly woman living in the streets

Seeing Ghosts || Summary: She tries to convince Frank that there's nothing he can do after the death of his family.

Smoke & Blood || Summary: after you kill the men who sought after Frank, everything goes haywire.

Till Death || Summary: you find out your boyfriend is the famed Punisher.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle imagines #jon bernthal imagine #jon bernthal #jon bernthal x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x female reader #frank castle imagine #the punisher #please reblog the things you enjoy #it helps keep dumblr alive

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flightlessangelwings · 2 months ago

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FawKtober2024 Part 9- Frank Castle

Vampire!Frank Castle x fem!reader

Kinks- monster au (vampire), biting

Word count- 1.5k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), vampire!Frank au, biting, blood, wall sex, Frank lifts reader, harassment, protective Frank, no physical description of reader other than body parts, no use of y/n

Notes- Happy Halloween! I've been wanting to write a vampire Frank Castle for a while and this was a perfect opportunity! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs!

Darkness engulfed you as you made your way down the street. It was late, and you knew you should be out all alone. But you weren’t scared… at least too scared. You knew that if something were to happen that he would come for you. It was him you were looking for anyway…

“Hey there sweet girl,” a slimy voice said from behind you as a shadowy figure appeared right over your shoulder, “What are you doing out here all alone?”

“I’m not alone,” you spun around to face him, only to find he moved in a flash to be behind you again.

“You sure look alone,” his voice sent a chill up your spine as he pinned you against the brick wall of the alley.

“Let me go!” you fought back, struggling as best you could against the supernatural strength that held you.

“You smell too good to let go,” he grinned darkly as fangs descended and his mouth opened wide.

Just as quickly as you found yourself pinned and trapped, you found yourself free as another figure stood in front of you. Your assailant was thrown to the ground on the other side of the street, and suddenly he wasn’t so intimidating anymore.

“The lady said to let her go,” a familiar voice boomed, the anger palpable even to you, “Now get the fuck out of here before I tear the skin off your fucking bones.”

You breathed a sigh of relief as you knew the voice of your savior. He stepped closer to the man who held you, continuing to hurl insults and threats to the man, who now cowered in fear. The man mumbled something you couldn’t hear before he took off in a flash, and your savior stayed still for a moment to make sure he was gone before he turned to you.

“Baby? You alright?” Frank asked, his tone softer as he held your face and looked you over.

“I’m ok,” your voice sounded distant as you took in the look of concern in his eyes, “Thank you, Frank.”

He smiled, a genuine smile that he only reserved for you. But his face turned serious, “Baby you can’t be out here all by yourself. What are you doing here anyway?”

A smirk lit up your face, “Looking for you.”

“Fuck… Frank…” you moaned as you found yourself pinned against the wall once more. But this time it was different.

This time, Frank had you up against the wall in his home, and you were there willingly. He grinded his hips against yours as he kissed you deeply, tasting and savoring you. Your body was so warm against his cold one, and it ignited something within him that he fought to keep down. There was something about you that Frank couldn’t deny, and it made his heart feel like it beat again for the first time in a long time.

“Baby…” he murmured against you as his hands roamed all over your body.

You moaned as you arched your back into his touch. You clawed at his shirt, desperate to tug it off, to which he happily obliged. Frank smirked at you as you drank in the sight of him without a shirt as if it was your first time. Turning mischievous, Frank used his vampire powers to strip you of your clothes in a flash, something that always caught you off guard and made you laugh at the same time.

“Frank!” you squealed in surprise, “Shit!”

He joined in your laughter as he used his supernatural powers once more and lifted you up to pin you against the wall again. “You’re so fucking pretty, baby,” he murmured before he kissed you again.

Moaning into his mouth, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and your legs around his waist, “Frank…” you whimpered as the need within you grew, “Fuck me, please…”

“With pleasure, baby,” Frank groaned as he leaned against your body to keep you in place as he slipped a hand down to unzip his jeans.

You whimpered as you felt his cold cock pop out from his pants and rub against your pussy, “Frank…”

“I know baby,” he growled as the need grew in him too, “I need you too,” a low rumble emitted from deep in his throat as the tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, your warmth already engulfing him, “Fuck…”

A scream from deep in your throat filled the room as Frank pushed into you. His groan echoed with yours as his eyes rolled back into his head from entering you.

“Fuck, baby,” Frank growled as his forehead rested against yours, “You ok?”

“Move,” you huffed as you adjusted to his thickness and the coldness of his cock. It was unlike anything else you had ever felt before, and you craved it unlike anything else, “Frank…”

He groaned as he thrust forward again, making you cry out in pleasure. Frank murmured a string of curses under his breath with every thrust of his hips. “Fuck you feel so fucking good,” he sighed.

“Frank… You too,” you moaned as you dug your nails into his cold shoulders.Sex with a vampire was like nothing else you had ever experienced before, especially this one. Another thrust of his hips diving his cock deeper inside you made you scream louder, and you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Bite me,” you whispered in his ear.

Frank’s fangs shot out the moment the words left your lips. He growled as primal instincts took over and he hovered his teeth over your neck. Against his lips, Frank felt the warmth of your skin and the pulse of your blood. It called to him louder than anything ever had before. But, he stopped himself before his teeth made contact with your skin.

“Are you sure, baby?” he asked, his whole body straining as he fought to hold himself back.

“Yes,” you breathed instantly, your voice completely sure.

As soon as he got confirmation, Frank sunk his teeth into your neck, your warm blood spilling into his mouth. You screamed and gripped him tighter, both with your hands and your pussy as the sharp pain flowed through you. But it was a welcome pain, and you trusted Frank. Goosebumps erupted on your skin as he drank from you. Blood dripped down your body, smearing both your and his skin along the way.

Frank growled as he thrust into you again, rocking in and out in a fast, harsh pace as your blood filled his mouth. The taste of you was sweeter than anything Frank had ever tasted before, and it was almost intoxicating. And the way you screamed and held him only made it more meaningful to him.

“Fuck! Frank… I’m gonna…” you couldn’t even finish your sentence before your whole body trembled as you came hard against his body. His cock hit your sweet spot over and over again as your blood filled him, and the loss only made your head spin more.

He groaned into your skin as his own head became a whirlwind. The feeling of your climax against his body was overwhelming, even for a vampire like Frank, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Breaking away from your skin, he moaned your name as his own climax came over him. He held you closely as he rutted against you, riding out both of your orgasms.

With one final grunt, Frank pulled out of you, keeping his arms around you to keep you close. You whimpered at the loss, and you breathed heavily from how tired and dizzy you felt. Almost limp in his arms, you hummed contently as you rested against his shoulder as he carried you over to his bed.

“I got you, baby,” Frank murmured in your ear.

Gently, he set you down on your back. You kept your eyes closed as you settled into the comfortable black sheets. Frank stayed hovered over you for a moment, looking you over to make sure he didn’t hurt you. His eyes narrowed as he eyed the bite marks on your neck.

“Let me take care of that for you, baby,” Frank said as he was about to use his own blood to cover the bite marks he left.

“No,” you grabbed his wrist before he could as your eyes shot open. When Frank looked at you with questioning eyes, you added, “I like it,” you admitted.

He dropped his head as a smile graced his face, his vampire fangs still visible between his lips, “Alright, baby.”

“Hold me?” you asked as you gave him your best pout, knowing how well it worked on him.

“Always, baby,” Frank lowered himself down and gathered you in his arms, holding you close and safe. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep in his arms, safe and secure and right where you wanted to be. Frank stayed up for some time, listening to your heartbeat. “I promise I’ll never let anyone or anything hurt you, baby,” he whispered in your ear. And it was a promise he would always keep.

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amhrosina · 2 years ago

Text

Touch Me (Frank Castle x f!Reader)

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAG LIST

A/N: Hi friends! I know I said I wanted to get this out by yesterday, but I ended up at my local(ish?) urgent care yesterday afternoon because ya girl has apparently been walking around with bronchitis for two weeks now. I’m on medicine, and I’ve been resting/editing this all day, but I could not for the life of me get this thing finished yesterday. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! It is literally porn with plot. P.S. - bearded Frank makes me go absolutely FERAL, and the gif I chose for today's fic makes me even MORE FERAL!!!!!!

Request: if requests are open, do you think you could write about Pete/ Frank still works at the construction site and reader is his girlfriend and she visits him for lunch at the construction site and the guys are astonished and you can come up with the rest if you would like.

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: When Frank’s coworkers notice you a little too much after you bring him his forgotten lunch, you want to remind him that he’s the only man for you, but Frank’s a generous lover, and you’re not leaving the truck until he’s made you come at least three times.

(Warnings: oh boy, smut, SMUT, did I mention smut??, porn with plot, v fingering, hand job sort of??, oral (fem receiving), p in v, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie lol, truck sex, soooo much kissing, protective Frank, you save the horse and ride the cowboy – know what I mean??, Frank talks you through it!!!!!, mentions of oral (male receiving), Frank is a consent king, Frank will be damned if anything bad happens to his baby girl!!!)

Frank eyed the clock, a nervous tick he’d developed over the last three hours as he waited for lunchtime to roll around. On any other day, lunch would’ve come and gone without a second thought from Frank, but not today. In his hurry to get to work this morning, he’d left the lunch you’d generously packed for him the night before. It was your fault, technically, but Frank was a gentleman, and gentlemen weren’t supposed to blame their girlfriends for forgotten lunches, especially when it was the incredible head you were giving him that made him late leaving this morning.

He'd gotten shit for it the minute he stepped on the site, barely getting a chance to pour his coffee before the guys were on his ass about his punch card. Frank brushed it off. It was all in good fun anyways, and he was the boss around here, so it didn’t really matter if he was late once in a blue moon. He didn’t divulge the reason for his tardiness, much more inclined to grunt a “fuck off” towards the guys and start his work for the day.

The nervousness set it when you called and told him you’d bring his lunch to him. The guys knew almost nothing about Frank’s personal life, which is what he preferred. They didn’t know anything about his past, and they certainly didn’t know about you. What he had going on before and after work hours was none of their business, you were none of their business, but that would change any minute.

“You got a hot date or something, man?” Antonio, one of the only guys Frank tolerated, asked as they moved a stack of wooden beams towards what would eventually become a master bedroom.

“What?” Frank lifted his head, narrowing his eyes at Antonio.

“You’ve checked the clock more in the last 25 minutes than I do on Friday afternoons. You expectin’ somethin’?”

Frank let out a nervous chuckle, which did little to subside Antonio’s curiosity. Instead, intense concern crossed Antonio’s face, and Frank sighed, shaking his head. His brain felt like it had been rewired, and he had no idea how to respond to Antonio’s question without causing more questions. He didn’t have a chance to respond, though, because the sound of clicking heels had caused heads to turn faster than Frank knew was possible.

Frank turned, relaxing when he spotted you. You smiled and waved, ignoring the men around you that were clearly enamored by your presence. Frank couldn’t blame them – you were beautiful – but that didn’t keep the bubble of anger from welling up inside his chest. You were his, and if he was going to make one thing clear to them today, it was that.

Frank marched up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body into his chest. He pressed a sultry kiss to your lips, slipping his tongue in your mouth in his way of saying hello. When you pulled away, you were smiling, and Frank couldn’t think of anything more beautiful than that damned smile of yours.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He grinned, slightly ashamed that he’d let his jealousy get the best of him in front of the guys that worked for him. It was definitely unprofessional to make out with your significant other in the middle of an active construction site while the entirety of your team gawked at your display of affection, right?

“That’s lunch.” He called out, not taking his eyes off yours.

The guys filed out, some with smirks on their faces, others with nothing but food on their minds. Antonio was smiling when he walked past the both of you, wiggling his eyebrows at Frank. Frank rolled his eyes, trying to remind himself why he barely tolerated the kid.

“Speaking of lunch,” you smiled, eyes bright and adoring as you looked at Frank, “Where do you want to eat? I’m not sure I can handle the roof.”

You were all too aware of Frank’s frequent lunch spots. Sitting a the top of buildings that were half constructed, legs hanging over the edge, was Frank’s favorite way to spend lunch, much to your chagrin. You were terrified of heights and refused to even think about how dangerous Frank’s lunch activities were.

“You want to stay?” Frank asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Of course! As long as we’re not eating on the roof.” You pointed upwards for emphasis, shaking your head.

“I guess I could change up my lunch spot for the day.” Frank faked an exasperated sigh. “What about my truck?”

“Sounds good to me, babe.” You smiled, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the front of what would eventually be a nice house in a nice neighborhood outside of Brooklyn. A house that Frank wished he could afford to buy for you. Hell, he’d build you a house if he could afford the land to build it on. You didn’t mind the small apartment you and Frank shared, but Frank couldn’t help the incessant desire to spoil you.

It was a brisk 35 degrees outside, and you bundled into Frank’s side as he opened the passenger side door for you. Frank hustled to the other side of the truck, quickly shutting the door behind him and starting the truck. The heat blasting from the vents was a welcome warmth, and Frank couldn’t shake the tiny sliver of guilt that sliced through him when you began blowing in your hands to warm them up. If he’d just remembered the fucking lunch box, you wouldn’t be sitting in the cold right now.

“Damn, the heat works so well in here.” You observed, holding your hands in the path of the hot air.

“One of the perks of being the boss, I guess.” Frank shrugged. The truck was a necessary purchase, especially once Frank’s work picked up, but you still weren’t used to it. You’d spent so many years taking the subway to get places that having access to a vehicle was a foreign concept to you. “I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here just to bring me lunch.”

“Don’t apologize. I like to see what you’re working on. I wish you’d let me come by more often.”

“You’d be bored. It’s just a bunch of sweaty old guys hammering nails.”

“Sounds like a wet dream to me.” You smirked, clearly joking at Frank’s expense. “I didn’t realize I’d cause such a fuss by showing up.”

Frank shrugged. “If any of them say a single word about you after lunch, I’m gonna break their jaws.”

“Frank, baby, relax.” You ran your hand up his arm. “Even if they do say something, it’s probably just because they had no idea I even existed.”

“I don’t like them knowing about you. You’re mine.”

Frank was aware that what he was saying was insane, but he never cared much about his sanity when it came to protecting the woman he loved. He’d be damned if another person was taken from him, and if that made him crazy, then so be it. Frank Castle would take crazy over mourning any day of the week.

You crept closer to Frank, shifting so that you could lean your elbow against the back of the bench seat.

“Them knowing about me doesn’t change that I’m yours, Frankie.”

Frank grunted, annoyance running through his veins. He knew you were right, but the fact that the guys were probably running their mouths about his relationship with you right now was getting on his nerves. He didn’t want you anywhere near their fucked up thoughts.

“You’re so tense, Frankie.” You mumbled, eyeing the way Frank was clenching and unclenching his fist in an irregular pattern. “Let me help you.”

This got his attention. His head swiveled around, eyebrows raised, as he looked to you for confirmation on what you’d just said. You matched his expression, unwilling to move until he consented to your idea.

“Yeah? You wanna help me?” He asked, already leaning back to make room for you to climb onto his lap.

“You could eat your lunch instead.” You mumbled, “If that’s what you want.”

Frank slowly shook his head, watching the way your throat bobbed when you swallowed.

“No.”

“You’re not hungry?” You asked, inching closer to him.

“Oh, I’m hungry.” Frank conceded, “But I’d rather have you for lunch.”

This omission sent a spark through your body, and you lurched forward, swinging your leg over his hip to straddle him. You looked down at him, enjoying the way his face already seemed more relaxed than moments before. You pressed a soft kiss on the crease of his forehead, the one that always made an appearance when he was stressing about something, and watched as it smoothed itself out.

Frank tilted his chin up, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. His hand snaked up your back, curling his fingers in your hair and gently pulling on it, which elicited the most delicious gasp he’d ever heard slip from between your lips. He decided right then and there that if that sound was the last thing he ever heard, he’d die the happiest death a man could ask for.

He slammed his lips onto yours, unable to constrain himself any longer. His hands found themselves wrapped around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. You grinded yourself against him, moaning against Frank’s lips when you felt how hard he was through his jeans. You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding against him again, letting out a devilish groan when the friction of the movement rubbed against your clit.

“Frank,” you moaned in between kisses, “touch me.”

It wasn’t just a desire to please you; it was a need. Frank was nothing if not generous, and the minute you started begging, he had already unbuttoned and unzipped your jeans, shoving his hand down the front of your pants. Frank let out a loud groan when he realized how entirely soaked through your panties were, clenching the fingers that were fiddling with the waistband of your jeans.

You pushed your hips closer to his hand, dying to feel his fingers. The panting coming from the both of you had fogged up the windows of the truck, obstructing anyone’s view into the truck. The construction site was dead anyways, but at this point, you didn’t think you cared if someone could see in. You wanted Frank so badly that you had lost your ability to care about anything besides Frank’s fingers.

“Want me to touch you, baby?” Frank cooed, “Want me to make your pretty pussy feel good?”

Frank’s breath was hot on your neck, and you nearly came from his words alone.

“I’m supposed to be making you feel good.” You moaned, grinding your hips against Frank’s fingers again. Your actions completely juxtaposed your words, but you couldn’t help yourself. Frank was just so good at making you come.

“Making you feel good makes me feel good, sweetheart.” Frank pressed the pads of his fingers against the fabric of your panties, swirling them around in an achingly slow circle. A shiver worked its way up your spine, and you threw your head back, gasping with pleasure.

“Are you sure?” You panted, unsure if you could stand being clothed for another second.

Frank responded by swiping your underwear aside and running two fingers between the folds of your pussy. When his fingers finally covered your clit, you let out an agonizing moan. Frank resumed circling his fingers around your clit, but his pace was more urgent, like he wanted to see you get off on his fingers just as much as you wanted to come all over his hand.

Your legs began to shake, and you wrapped your arms around Frank’s neck, pulling him into a feverish kiss. His tongue dipped into your mouth, and you began to grind against his fingers in a rhythm that matched the pace of his hand. It was a flurry of passionate kisses and sinful moans as you came apart on Frank’s hand. You breathed through the orgasm as it crashed through you, slumping against Frank’s shoulder in exhaustion.

“My beautiful, beautiful girl,” Frank pulled his hand away from your clit, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you over so that your back lied against the front seat of the truck, “You did so good.”

Frank hovered over you, pressing a soft kiss onto your nose before gently capturing your lips with his. You were still reeling from your orgasm, content to stay in this position forever, when Frank suddenly sat up. You blinked up at him, wondering if maybe his lunch was already over, but the way he began to pull your jeans down your hips told you he was nowhere near done with you.

You kicked your jeans and panties off, pussy clenching around nothing as the air hit your wet core. You spread your legs further, giving Frank a view of how easily he’d ruined you.

“Fuck baby,” Frank groaned, rubbing his thumb through the slickness that had begun running down your inner thighs, “This is the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”

You moaned when he began playing with your clit again, overstimulated but too turned on to stop him.

“Can I taste you?” Frank asked, fully focused on how wet you were. His eyes were glazed over, pupils dilated with desire.

“You’re being too generous.” You sat up, resting on your elbows as he finally locked eyes with you.

“I want to.” He shrugged, already positioning his face near your core. He threw your legs over his shoulders and rested his hands on your stomach, glancing up at you to make sure he had your consent. You spread your legs wider, nodding.

“I need words, baby. Can I taste you?”

Frank’s hot breath coasted over your pussy as he spoke, and the dull throb of desire erupted into a full blown ache.

“Yes, God, please.” You whined.

When his tongue finally met your core, you threw your head back and moaned so loud you were sure the entire neighborhood heard it. Frank was astonishingly graceful at eating pussy, approaching it like it was a dance between his tongue and your clit. He knew exactly when to be gentle, when to roughen it up, and when you were seconds away from coming all over his tongue, he knew exactly how to suck on your clit so that you saw stars for hours afterwards.

Frank normally liked to take his time with this, coaxing multiple small orgasms out of you before finally letting you fall apart around his mouth, but today he was on a time crunch, and he wanted to make you come around his cock before his lunch break was over, too. So instead of going slow and steady, Frank dined on your pussy like a man starved. He circled your clit with the tip of his tongue, licking and sucking all throughout your core as you came closer and closer to your orgasm. He teased your entrance with his tongue, coasting over it every time he flattened his tongue against your folds.

“Oh shit, Frank.” You groaned, arching your back.

He hummed against your pussy, which had your legs shaking so aggressively that he had to clamp his hands over them to keep them from sliding off his shoulders. You were so close, and Frank knew it. He smirked against your core, trailing his tongue around your clit before slightly sucking. Your body felt like it was on fire, and when the crux of your orgasm finally hit you, you couldn’t stop yourself from squeezing your legs into the sides of Frank’s head. You could feel your heart pounding against your ribs, and no matter how deeply you inhaled, you couldn’t quite catch your breath. The world around you faded, and the only thing you could focus on was the feeling of Frank’s hands gently caressing your thighs.

Frank crawled up your body, hovering over you as you came back to yourself. You hadn’t expected to come that hard, especially not in a cramped space like Frank’s car, but he always managed to surprise you.

You swallowed thickly, blinking up at his swollen and slick lips. He was always beautiful, you thought, but right now, you’d never seen anything as beautiful as him covered in your wetness. You leaned upwards, kissing him with every ounce of yourself that you could. The taste of you was still fresh on his tongue, and he groaned when you swiped your tongue against his, grinding against your unclothed pussy with his denim jeans.

The friction was overstimulating, but you wanted him deep inside you so badly that you began meeting his hips halfway, grinding against him so heavily that you were sure he’d have stains on the front of his jeans later. He shifted his weight onto one arm, reaching down and unbuckling his belt with one had. He was moving at a languid pace, and you couldn’t stop yourself from knocking his hand out of the way and unbuttoning his jeans. He chuckled when you undid his zipper in record time, forcing his jeans and underwear halfway down his thighs.

“Someone’s eager to feel my cock, huh?” Frank cooed, brushing his nose against yours, “You want me to fuck you silly, sweetheart?”

You wrapped your hand around his achingly hard cock, pumping up and down as he teased you. The tip was already wet, drops of precum beading at the head.

“Can I ride you?” You asked, pushing his shoulders slightly.

He raised his eyebrows at your boldness. You were usually so eager to let him control the situation, but the look in your eyes when you spoke told a different story. You wanted to make him feel good, and you weren’t planning on letting him leave until that happened.

“Sometimes,” you started, sitting up and pushing Frank down into the seat underneath you, “I want to be the one to fuck you silly.”

You straddled Frank and lined him up with your entrance. You were not going to waste any more of his break not fucking him. Frank let out a stuttering moan as you lowered yourself onto him. When you were finally full of him, stretched out and pliant, you panted at the overwhelming feeling. No matter how many times Frank fucked you, it always took you a few moments to adjust to his size.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Frank leaned his head against the headrest, grabbing onto your hips in a brutal hold that you knew would bruise later.

You slowly began to rock against him, holding onto the seat behind him for leverage. You moaned when his cock pushed against the spot deep within you that drove you crazy, and couldn’t help the way your breath stuttered out of you. Frank angled his face towards yours, watching in awe as you panted over him, licking your lips and squeezing your eyes closed. He leaned toward you, nipping your jaw with his teeth in a teasing gesture. You ground down on him even harder, and he chuckled.

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart.” Frank hummed, running his nose along the curve of your cheekbone. “Your pretty pussy drives me crazy sometimes.”

“Yeah?” You mumbled, picking up your rhythm as you grinded against him. You yelped when you felt his arm wrap around your waist, bucking up into you so hard that you swore you saw stars.

“Can’t think about anything else some days.” Frank nuzzled his cheek against yours, tightening his hold around you. “You’re fucking perfect, baby.”

You mewled at his praise, even though you had made it clear that you wanted to be the one making him feel good, not the other way around. You couldn’t help but mewl. He always knew what to say to make your chest warm and fuzzy, even when he was fucking up into you so hard that you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk straight for a week.

“C’mon baby girl,” Frank’s tone was low and delicious, and the tingle that worked its way up your spine told you exactly how much you liked the sound of it, “Give me one more, baby.”

“Frank, I-” You let out a guttural moan when you felt his fingers tracing a circle around your clit. Your legs began to shake again, and you knew you were seconds away from coming again. “I’m supposed to be making you feel good.” You finally panted, quickening your pace as you grinded against his cock and fingers.

“I want you to come on my cock, sweetheart.” Frank smirked as you squeezed around him, “That will make me feel good, baby. Can you do that for me, baby girl? Hmm? I know you can. Make me feel good, sweet girl. Come on my cock.”

Frank was talking you through it, and you could not fathom how incredibly hot it was. The intensity at which your orgasm hit you was earth-shattering, and if the neighborhood hadn’t heard you earlier, they certainly heard you this time. You rocked against Frank, whining and panting and doing everything in your power not to fall apart completely before he could reach his high as well.

“My good girl,” Frank wrapped both arms around your waist, pulling your chest against his so that he could kiss you all over your face, “You did so good, sweetheart.”

His praise made you whine, and you couldn’t stop yourself from slamming your lips into his, quickening your pace as you grinded against him. It was overstimulating, sure, but you couldn’t think of anything you wanted more than Frank coming deep inside you.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Frank mumbled against your lips, tightening his arms around you, “’m gonna come.”

“Come in me,” you panted, squeezing around his cock.

“Yeah, baby? Want me to fill you up?” Frank was breathing so heavy against your ear that goosebumps littered down your back and shoulders. You dug your nails into his shoulders as he pounded up into you, and when he finally came, warm spurts of come coating your walls, you both slumped against each other, worn out and sweaty.

Frank’s heart was pounding in his chest, and you subconsciously tapped your finger against his neck in the same rhythm until it finally calmed down. You leaned back, glancing over Frank’s features. His eyes were closed, chin tilted upwards in a relaxed, casual position. The stress creases in his face were long gone, and he looked a decade younger than he did when you’d shown up earlier.

“Wish we could stay like this.” He mumbled, running his fingers along your thighs.

“Me too, Frankie.” You nodded, cupping his cheeks in your hands, and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “How much time until you have to go back?”

Frank slightly opened one of his eyes, checking the clock on the dash before closing it again. “Just enough time to drop you off at home and come back. The guys will appreciate the extended lunch.”

You shook your head. “I can get an uber or take the subway, Frank. You don’t have to drive me.”

“What kind of man would I be if I didn’t drive my beautiful girlfriend home after she came all the way here to bring me lunch and make me feel good?”

“A normal one.” You snorted, rolling your eyes.

“Well then I guess I ain’t normal.” Frank smiled, leaning in to kiss you before tapping your thigh with his hand. “I hate to say it, but I can’t drive with you straddlin’ me like this.”

You lifted yourself off him, rolling over into the passenger seat. Your limbs still buzzed with pleasure, and it took you longer than you care to admit to find your panties and put them back on. You were pulling your jeans over your hips when Frank began to roll the windows down and wipe the windshield off. You and him had emitted enough fog that it was impossible to see out of any of the windows, let alone drive.

When the windows were finally cleared and Frank had texted Antonio to let him know he’d be a few minutes late getting back from lunch (Antonio’s only response was the winking emoji), Frank drove you back to the apartment you shared with him. He walked you to the door, kissed you goodbye, turned, then turned back to kiss you again.

“I left your lunch on the passenger seat, okay? It should still be warm with how hot the truck was earlier.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Frank grinned, pulling you in for a third goodbye kiss.

You finally pushed him off you, chuckling when he tried to chase your lips with his.

“Go to work, Frank. I’ll see you tonight.” You laughed as he rolled his eyes, giving you a final kiss before turning and jogging back to the truck. When you closed the door and locked it, you slumped towards the bedroom, the only thing on your mind being the nap you were about to take.

Frank ate his lunch on the drive back to the construction site, nearly getting choked up when he realized you had gotten him Lombardi’s pizza. You knew how much he loved it, and he vowed to show you how grateful he was when he returned home. When he made it back to the site, he was only half an hour late, but that didn’t stop the guys from joking with him about it.

“Twice in one day, boss? She worth it?”

“Must be. He doesn’t look half as grumpy as he usually does.”

Frank rolled his eyes, counting to ten as a way to manage his anger before outwardly responding.

“If any of you fuckers have anything else to say about her, I’ll bash your heads in with the sledgehammer. Got it?”

Frank glanced at the faces around him. So much for managing his anger. Antonio was the only one that didn’t look utterly terrified as they returned to work.

“So, boss.” Antonio started, smirking as he leaned against one of the structural beams.

“Don’t you start.” Frank pointed at him for emphasis, warning the kid away from any topics he may regret bringing up. He really wasn’t a bad kid, and he was one of the hardest workers Frank had encountered in the business, but he did not want to discuss his love life with his 22 year old employee.

“I was just going to ask how much plaster you think we’ll need for the bathroom.” Antonio pointed behind him with his thumb, gesturing towards the space that would soon be an ensuite.

“Sure you were.” Frank couldn’t wait to end the day and crawl into your loving arms, but he had a shit ton of work to do before then, and he would always be the last one on site for the evening.

Later that evening, after he’d finally trudged through the door, showered, and ravished you, you were caressing his chest as he pressed a kiss to your hair.

“So,” you murmured, “D’ya break any jaws after I left?”

“You’ll be happy to know that I didn’t break any jaws after you left.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him.

“What?” He asked.

“You mean to tell me that you didn’t lose your shit on anyone after I left today?”

“No,” he shook his head, “that’s not what I said. I definitely lost my shit, but I didn’t break anyone’s jaw.”

“Oh, that’s good.” You mumbled sarcastically, rolling your eyes and chuckling.

You nuzzled into his chest, relaxing as he enveloped you with warmth.

“I love you, sweet girl. I’m not ashamed of that. Hell, I’ll shout it from the rooftop if you want me to. I just don’t like people knowing my business. I want to keep you safe.”

“I know, Frankie. I’m not upset about it. I love you too.”

“You promise?”

“That I love you?” You smirked against his chest.

“No, smart ass. That you’re not upset.”

“I promise.” You grinned as he pressed a kiss into your hair.

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tuiccim · 9 months ago

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Wrecked (Part 3)

Pairing: Alpha Frank Castle x Omega Reader, Alpha Billy Russo x Omega Reader

Trigger Warnings: References to infertility, love triangle

Summary: When Frank Castle found his way to your small town bar, you thought you had finally found your Alpha despite being a "wrecked omega" but when his best friend, Billy Russo, blows through town, your world tilts on its axis. You thought you found your happy ending but was it just more wreckage for your life?

A/N: Thank you to my beta reader and hype princess, @whisperlullaby

Wrecked Masterlist

Billy smirks, “You clocked me the minute I sat down, didn’t you?”

“I’m sure just as quickly as you did me,” you wink.

“Damn, Frankie got lucky,” Billy continues to flirt.

“Hardly,” you roll your eyes. “Frank got held up but he’ll be here soon. Have you eaten?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about me. As long as the drinks keep coming and your friend there keeps entertaining the crowd, I’ll be just fine.”

“That’s Cecily. She’s looking forward to meeting you,” you smile, conspiratorially.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to move on, yet. My heart was just broken by the most beautiful woman in the bar,” Billy whispers intimately.

“I have a feeling you’ll get over it quickly,” you laugh as you walk away to pour more drinks.

“Hardly,” Billy murmurs into his drink as he watches you walk away.

You can feel his eyes follow you as you take care of customers, but on most occasions that you glance back at him, he quickly slid his eyes to Cecily. His curiosity about you was completely natural, you reminded yourself. He just wanted to know about Frank's omega, but that rationalization didn't stop your heart from beating faster every time you caught his gaze. It was almost as if his eyes were drawing you in, two near black pools that seemed to beg for you to fall into them. You shook yourself when you realized you were frozen, staring at him, and his cocky smirk let you know he was well aware. He lifted his glass to salute you as you scurried back to work.

You were relieved an hour later when Frank finally made it to the bar. He immediately grabbed Billy by the shoulder and the two shared a boisterous greeting, clapping each other on the back as they hugged. It was almost sweet to see the smiles they both wore. You slid a beer in front of Frank's barstool while the two were engrossed in each other and went about working. When the two had had some time to catch up, you motioned for Cecily to join you during a lull. Frank glanced up as you approached and his lips twisted in a sardonic smile, "Bill, let me introduce you to this terror. Cecily Meyers, Billy Russo. Billy, Cecily."

You were a little surprised that Frank barely acknowledged you and hadn’t bothered to introduce you. Normally, he was sure to say hello when he came in and, more often than not, gave you a kiss. He’d barely given you a nod since he appeared. You shook it off figuring he was just distracted by his friend.

"Thanks for that endearing intro, Frank!" Cecily snarks as she holds a hand out to Billy, "It's nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Billy says while displaying that drop dead gorgeous smile. “You were putting on quite a show.”

“Gotta keep the tip jar full,” Cecily grins, leaning in.

Almost imperceptibly, Billy leans away saying, “You do a good job of it.” He shifts his attention back to you, asking, “Do you have the same tricks up your sleeves?”

“Oh, that and more,” you wink at Frank who only gives you a glance.

“She taught me all her bar tricks but I’ve got a few of my own,” Cecily says flirtatiously.

“I never could master dancing on the bar,” you quip as you pull another beer and quickly deliver it to the signaling customer.

Cecily laughs and puts a hand on Billy’s arm, “I’m a pretty good dancer. I’ve got plenty of moves.”

Billy gives her a brief smile and turns to Frank, “Yeah, Frankie, we were never much good at dancing.”

“We got pretty good at running for cover,” Frank says, remembering back to their days as Marines.

“You remember that bar we found outside of Kandahar?” Billy recalls.

“The one you nearly caused an international incident in? Yeah, I remember the bullets whizzing past as we ran.”

Billy laughs, “Good times.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, “We have very different ideas of ‘good times’ but it sounds exactly like something you two would enjoy. ‘Always getting in and out of scrapes’ is how Frank describes your friendship.”

“Sounds about right,” Billy gives you a sly smile.

“I’d love to hear some of the stories, I bet they’re fascinating.” Cecily flips her hair with a smile, “Maybe you could tell me some over a drink after last call.”

“I’m putting these two out enough by crashing with them and I’m pretty beat. Probably best if I head home with them,” Billy declines smoothly.

“Some other time, then,” Cecily smiles but you recognize the umbrage that sparks in her eyes. She went back to tending the bar, flirting, and showing off her skills with the occasional glance directed Billy’s way. To her annoyance, he rarely seemed to take his eyes off of you unless he was directing his attention to Frank.

After last call, you closed out the last of the tabs, and cleaned up as the bar emptied. Cecily grabbed the tip jar and nodded her head for you to follow her to the back room. She dumped the contents of the jar out and you both started sorting the cash.

“I don’t like him,” Cecily snipes.

“I’m sorry,” you say for lack of anything better.

“There’s something off about him,” she continues.

“What do you mean?”

“I… he… I just get a weird vibe,” she shrugs.

“Well, he’s only here for a couple of days. You won’t-”

“He kept staring at you. Like he’s, I don’t know,” she huffs.

“Like he’s curious about his friend’s omega?” You reason.

“No. Like he’s calculating, making some kind of plans. Are you sure you want him staying with you?”

You laugh lightly, “I’m not worried. Frank will be there.” Truthfully, you were chalking most of Cecily’s feelings up to anger at being rejected.

“Maybe that’s exactly what they want,” she says.

“What?” You look at her askance.

“I’ve got a really bad feeling. What if they’re planning something?”

“Like what, Cec? You think they’re gonna rob me?” You try to laugh off her suspicions but it seems to put her even more on edge.

“I don’t know! There is something off. I wish you would take me seriously right now,” she says.

“I’m sorry. I just… I’m not getting the same vibe. I trust Frank. Don’t you?” You raise your eyebrows at her.

“I…I don’t know. I never thought he was going to stick around this long, honestly. Did you?” She asks.

“Um, I, not really but then he did. I’m happy with him. He’s a good guy.”

“I just feel like he’s going to hurt you in the end,” she shrugs.

“That’s how most relationships end, with a lot of hurt. I’ll be fine. I’m glad to have him while I do,” you reassure her.

“‘While you do?’ So, you don’t think he’s going to stick around either?” She asks.

“I think he will but you never really know, right?”

“And his friend? Billy just seems off,” she insists.

“Off? Cec, are you, maybe, put off because he wasn’t exactly receptive to you?” You ask.

“I don’t give a fuck that he didn’t flirt with me! There’s something wrong with him! And if his best friend is Frank, there must be something wrong with him, too!” She says meanly.

“Don’t say things like that, there’s nothing wrong with Frank! He’s a good man!”

“You’re so blind! Can’t you see he’s using you?” She says heatedly.

“What the hell are you on about? He’s not using me! He’s going to mate me!”

“What?” She stares, open mouthed.

“He’s going to mate me on my next heat. He’s not using me!”

“Frank’s an Alpha. His nature is to breed. He’ll never mate you! He’s using you and he probably brought his friend in to help hide your body or some shit!” Cecily seethes.

“Cecily! Are you serious right now?” You stare agape at your friend.

“Why else would he be with you? You can’t give him what he wants! He’s just using you. Why is he with you? Why did he choose you?” Cecily practically shouts.

You stare in shocked silence for a moment before saying gently, “Cecily, stop. It’s not… It’s not like that. Frank just… he’s been through a lot. He needed something uncomplicated.”

“He’s using you and you don’t even care? How pathetic can you be?” Cecily spits, the venom in her voice turning your blood cold.

“You’re… you’re jealous. You’re jealous that he turned you down and then went home with me. And now, you can’t stand the thought that Billy wasn’t interested in you and paid more attention to me? Isn’t that just like you?” You unleash your anger.

“I’m not jealous of you!” Cecily shouts.

“You are! You’re angry that someone would choose the wrecked Omega over the pedestaled princess. And you always want what you can’t have. That’s why you’ve never accepted any man that ever pursued you. If they want you, you’ll play with them and use them but you never want them. Now, one of the few men that has ever passed you over, chose me and you can’t stand it! God forbid now Billy shows some interest in me, AS HIS FRIEND’S OMEGA, and you turn psycho! What the fuck is wrong with you?” You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth but you stand your ground. After all, everything you said was true.

“Fuck you! Your father should have put you down! No one wants you! No one will ever really love you! You don’t even deserve to be called an Omega! You’re nothing!” Cecily throws the money she held in your face before turning to storm out.

“I’m the one going home with two Alphas and you’ll be alone, as usual,” you say quietly to her back. You were surprised at your own cruelty but her words had cut deep. She was your oldest friend and you never thought she would use your worst insecurities against you. She paused for just a split second but then exited, slamming the door behind her.

You felt the tears well in your eyes. Your heart was breaking at the vicious way you had torn into each other. Slowly, you pick up the money from the floor and throw it into your safe. You took a moment, let a few tears fall and then wipe them away. You fan your eyes to help dry them and compose yourself.

“Everything okay back here?” Frank sticks his head through the door.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be right there. Just finishing up,” you say, not turning towards him.

“Where’s Cecily?” Frank asks after glancing around.

“She had to go,” you say simply.

“Hmph,” Frank grunts, “Billy pissed her off?”

You give a breathless little laugh, “How’d you guess?”

“She’s not used to being the one turned down.”

“Ain’t that the truth. I’ll be right out,” you give a fleeting smile over your shoulder but have to hold yourself together as more tears threaten.

“Okay,” Frank backs out of the door and you hear him ask Billy if he wanted anything else before leaving.

You head to the bathroom to put some cold water on your neck and make some repairs to your face. Some eye drops help with the redness of your eyes. You stare at yourself in the mirror as emotions war through you. The barb Cecily had thrown your way about your father and not being a real Omega had come straight from her knowledge of your trauma. You hadn’t known she could be so cruel. Feeling tears begin to well again, you shake your head and grip the sink. Looking up again, you growl at yourself, “Turn it off.”

Immediately, your mask drops into place. Your face shows a calm countenance and your shoulders straighten. Frank’s best friend was here and you would hold yourself together to give him a great visit. You would fall apart after he left.

–

“This is really nice. I kinda expected you to live above the bar,” Billy says as his eyes study the inside of your cabin.

“No, I rent that apartment out,” you smile.

“You do?” Frank gives you a surprised look.

“Yeah, I wanted a little distance between myself and the bar,” you explain. “I spend so much time there I want my own space away from it. When this place came available I jumped on it.”

“Smart,” Billy says.

“Thanks. Why don’t you drop your bag in here?” You open the door to the room Billy will be sleeping in.

“Okay,” he smiles as he brushes past you. You have to stop yourself from closing your eyes as you catch his scent. Without the bar overpowering it, he smelled even more enticing.

“Who rents it?” Frank’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

“What?” You ask, momentarily confused.

“Who rents the apartment?” Frank says again.

“Oh, Jordan. He’s been there for six months or so now,” you look at Frank seeing a strange expression on his face. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I just didn’t realize,” Frank shrugs.

Turning back to the room, you walk through to open a door, “Um, the bathroom is through here. It’s a jack-and-jill bathroom. The other door is to our bedroom. Please make yourself at home. Would you like a drink or anything?”

“No, gorgeous, I’m good,” Billy says. The endearment sends a little thrill through you.

“Well, uh, if there are no objections, I’m going to shower and hit the hay. I’m pretty beat,” you look to Frank.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Frank shrugs as he grabs a beer from the fridge. “Want one?” He asks Billy.

“Sure,” he answers before turning to you with a smile, “Good night.”

“Good night, Billy. I hope you sleep well,” you return his smile. A final glance at Frank who is concentrating on opening the beers has your smile disappearing. Escaping to the bedroom you undress while trying to sort, your multitude of feelings, Cecily’s cruelty, Frank’s standoffishness, and this inexplicable attraction to Billy. Frank had told you that Billy went through women fairly quickly. He had never been close to settling down. You can fully understand how he managed it. There was something magnetic about him. His eyes and smile drew you in. And, my god, his scent was enough to make you want to fall into his bed alone.

You shake yourself from those thoughts and step into the spray of the shower. It was disloyal to Frank and he was good to you. His reticence tonight had hurt but you chalked it up to his friend being here and wanting his approval… And then the thought hit you, what if Frank’s remoteness is due to shame? What if he didn’t want his friend to know that you weren’t… a real Omega?

You felt the tears well again and, in the safety of the shower, you let them fall. Sobs wracked your body and you bit down on your fist to stifle any sound. The question that haunted you ran through your mind over and over again, would you ever be enough for someone?

You knew Frank cared about you but, even if he did stay and mate you, you would always feel that you had stolen something from him. He would have stolen something from you, too. You wanted to be loved. Really loved, not a settlement or convenience. That thought had your tears turning to anger. You curl your hands into fists and force yourself to calm down. Tamping down all your feelings, you turn off the water and finish getting ready for bed.Your room is empty and you can hear the low murmurs of their voices in the living room. Cocooned in the covers, you close your eyes and try to will yourself to sleep. It feels like hours before it finally claims you.

–

Waking the next morning, you’re surprised to see the empty spot next to you. It was obvious Frank had been there but the spot was cool to the touch. He’s been gone for a while. You weren’t sure how to feel. Normally, Frank would wake you for sex if you hadn’t the night before. Maybe he was just uncomfortable with his friend in the house. You attempt to shrug it off. You had to let it go for now, you were too full of emotions and you needed to be a good hostess and still had to work the bar tonight.

After getting dressed, you head to the kitchen to find Billy leaning against the kitchen counter drinking from your favorite coffee mug. His long legs crossed in front of him makes him look utterly relaxed as he stares out the window at the creek. He’s just taking another sip when you move into his peripheral.

“Mmm, morning,” Billy straightens. “Can I pour you a cup of coffee?”

A grin spreads across your face as you answer, “Good morning. Shouldn’t I be asking you that since you’re the guest?”

He smiles and your heart beats a little faster. Despite your question, he reaches for a mug and pours, “I can't pass up a chance to service a beautiful woman.”

You snicker, “Double entendre fully intended, I'm sure.” You take the coffee cup and ask, “Where’s Frank gotten off to?”

“He went to pick up some doughnuts. Said I had to try them. I begged off going with him. I was in the car all day yesterday,” he shrugs.

“Ah, Melinda's Cafe. He's obsessed,” you laugh.

Billy's eyes wander over your face, “He said he'd be back in 30 minutes. That was about ten minutes ago. Since we have time, what happened last night?”

You stare, confused, “What do you mean?”

“What happened with Cecily?”

“Nothing. I think she felt a little rejected and went home,” you say, relieved.

“Frankie went to the bathroom at one point. I walked over to check on you two in the back room and I heard Cecily say something along the lines of ‘Fuck you. Nobody loves you. You're not a real Omega.’ Why did she say that?” Billy tilts his head as he stares into you.

“Uh, she… she was angry. She didn't mean it,” you hedge, turning away.

Billy grabs your arm and pulls you back around to face him, “Why did she say that?”

“She was mad that you paid more attention to me than her. She'll get over it,” you say quickly.

“No,” Billy brackets his arms around you, grasping the counter. “Why did she say you're not a real Omega? What did she mean?”

You froze, staring wide-eyed as thoughts bombarded your mind. You couldn't tell him. What if it shamed Frank? What if Frank was angry that you told his friend? But then, the seed of anger that had formed last night began to bloom. Why did you have to be ashamed? Why were you less than because of something you had no control over? What did you have to lose by telling the truth? Despite all of your thoughts, you still squeaked out, “Noth-”

“Don't say nothing! Tell me.” The Alpha came out in his voice as he said it and the pull to give into his demand was undeniable.

“I can’t… I can't have kids. That's why I'm not a real Omega. I still go into heat but it's no use, I can't breed. No Alpha wants a wrecked Omega but Frank has offered to mate me. It sent her over the edge and she was pissed that Frank didn't choose her. She flirted with him when he first came to town but he brushed her off. I'm not a real Omega… please don't tell Frank I told you. I think he's ashamed of it and he's been so standoffish since you got here. I-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I won't say anything,” Billy assured softly. “You're sure you can't?”

“Yeah, it's medically impossible,” you can't quite meet his eyes.

“I'm sorry,” he softly touches your cheek.

“It's fine,” you look up at him and lose yourself in his eyes. His scent envelopes you and you can feel your body respond.

“I don't know how he's resisted mating you until now,” Billy's hand trailed to your neck and his fingers played over your scent gland. You give a shuddering gasp at the caress. Your body goes into overdrive and you feel your panties flood. Billy leans in even closer, closing his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I don't know how you can say you're not a real Omega. Everything about you screams it. Especially your scent. I could stand here all day and not get enough of it.”

“You shouldn't say things like that to me,” you put a hand on his chest but fail to push him away.

He looks at you intensely, his face close to yours, “Tell me you don't feel this. Tell me it's just me feeling this pull and I'll stop. I won't say anything else.”

“We can't do this,” you whisper.

“Tell me,” he says, lips only a few scant inches from yours.

“Billy-”

The rumble of an engine and the slam of a truck door has the two of you separating quickly. When Frank walks in carrying a box, he smiles at the two of you, “Coffee ready?”

“Yeah, I'll make you a cup,” you say quickly. As you pour, you glance at Billy. He was watching you as he drank from his mug. You turn away to take a deep breath. This was going to be a long two days.

Part 4

Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction for update notifications. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 11 months ago

Note

psssstttt….

using frank’s big, heavy balls to rub your clit and him coming on your pussy from the sight of it then fucking his cum back inside

a/n: sliiightly changed the sluttiness, hope that's okay. i swear, i read it so closely, but i think it might have scrambled my horny brain too much because when i sat down to write it, it unfolded slightly differently (still very close, he just doesn't cum from the sight, he just came and then he starts the whole fantasy)

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

“O-oh my g-god!” you trembled against the sheets as Frank’s weight lightened and he sat back to marvel at the masterpiece he had just painted on your pussy.

“Damn, sweetheart…” you heard him groan, giving his only half-softened girth a generous squeeze before swiping the bulbous head through his load that glistened on your fluttering pussy. Your frame twitched and jumped lightly at the overstimulation as he rubbed his cum further into your puffy petals.

His movements soon became so broad that the entirety of his length slid through your folds, up over your sensitive clit and against the lower part of your stomach, smirking at how exceptionally deep he had been just moments before. But when you felt the weight of him against your lower belly, just before he scooped down to repeat the lavish pattern, so too did you feel a different heft rut against your buzzing pearl, a sensation that caused your hazy eyes to roll in your skull.

Craning down to steal a sloppy peck from your lips, you moaned into his mouth as he purposely nuzzled his heavy sack against your clit.

“You like that, huh?” he chuckled thickly at your reaction, his sturdy nose grazing against your own, “I thought you were done. I thought you said it was too much and that you just couldn’t take it anymore,” peeling himself off of you once more, he leaned back and tapped the weight of him against your collective mess, “and now you’re fucking purring like I didn’t just cum on your pretty pussy. What am I gonna do with you, huh?” he smiled down you and you felt his palm run up your shivering frame.

Swiping his thumb across your core, he didn’t clean his cum off of you, but scooped it further down towards your entrance.

Spreading you wide with his digits, you felt the tip of him tease your quivering hole, “you want more, hm? You want me to fuck my cum deep inside of you? Is one load just not enough for my girl today? Because I can keep going, baby. I can keep going till you fucking pass out…”

#lea’s writing #frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #frank castle imagine #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x female reader #jon bernthal smut #marvel smut #marvel x reader smut #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #the punisher fic #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher x reader

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 6 months ago

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omg ily sm hope ur doing okay💕💕

ive been thinking abt franm castle running into an old marine friend at a bar and taking her home ahhh idk

love u <3

18+ warning!!

“It’s been a while, huh?”

Frank looks you up and down where you sit on the bar stool, eyeing you like a predator does its prey.

“A long while, Castle. Where’ve you been?”

He hums, clearly debating whether to lie to you or not.

“Oh, you know. Here and there. Around.”

“That’s the most evasive answer I’ve ever heard,” you laugh.

You grin when he laughs with you, all low and rumbled. It’s a rare sound, coming from him. You savour it.

“Didn’t expect to run into you tonight, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t like it when you called me sweetheart ten years ago, Castle. And I don’t like it now.”

“What do you prefer, hmm? Baby? Darlin’? Hot stuff?”

“Hot stuff,” you reluctantly chuckle, glaring at him. “What are you, sixty? This isn’t the eighties, Frank.”

He pauses, running his eyes across your face. His gaze flicks down to your lips for a moment before looking at you again carefully.

“I’ve missed you,” he mutters, voice all honeyed and thick. “Been hoping I’d bump into you for ten goddamn years.”

You feel heat bloom across your chest, avoiding the intensity of his stare. You bite at your lip nervously, finally daring to look up at him through your lashes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You take a deep breath, and decide to throw caution into the wind.

“Hey, Frank?”

“Yeah, hot stuff?”

You shake your head, fighting to keep the smile off your face.

“You wanna get out of here? Come home with me?”

He smirks at you, all mischievous and lust drunk.

“Yes, I do. I really fuckin’ do.”

#murph writes blurbs #frank castle fic #frank castle x oc #frank castle imagine #frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader fluff #frank castle x reader smut #frank castle fluff #the punisher fluff #the punisher x reader smut #the punisher x you #the punisher x reader #the punisher imagine #the punisher smut #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n

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annmaximoff18 · 5 months ago

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My bad boys or with dubious morals.

My mother wouldn't approve of them, except Loki, she loves Loki 🫶💚

Loki Laufeyson

Kaz Bekker

Roman Godfrey

Frank Castel

Homelander

John Constantine

Jason Todd

Peter Pan

Adrian Chase

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sinsandsweetness · 1 year ago

Note

frank castle with a pregnant girlfriend whose so needy and horny for him all the time

Your hand flutters over the soft cotton sheets for the second time that night. Fingers gently tickling at the waistband of his boxers. He stirs but continues to watch the tv. Some medical drama he thought might help you fall asleep.

You lean in and brush your nose against his neck. Lips grazing his pulse before you press a few soft kisses downwards. Trying to get your hint across. And with your hand in his pants and your face buried in his neck, you figure it shouldn’t take too long.

“Again… really?” He asks as his hand comes up to rest on the one your currently using to palm at his groin.

“I know,” you try not to whine, but a moan like sigh slips out anyway. “I just- Frankie, please…”

He lets out a little huff of air and you can hear the smirk forming on his face. Clearly amused by what appears to be your newfound never ending libido. All you really want is to fall asleep, but it seems your body has other plans. The growing ache between your thighs has already forgotten just how full you felt, not even an hour ago.

“I know, baby. C’mhere.” The hand that’s already around your shoulder, pulls you in. One hand going to pull your thigh around to straddle him. And that’s where you sit. Hips already rocking against him as your legs mold to the outside of his hips. His hands find their spot on your waist. Both thumbs brushing along the line of exposed skin on your stomach.

You aren’t showing too much yet. You are only a few months along. But you’ve heard that the start of the second trimester is when this kind of thing happens. All of a sudden, you’re a little more energetic and your sex drive just skyrockets. You couldn’t have seen it coming.

You rock back and forth, creating a friction you oh so desperately need. But it’s not enough.

A near pathetic moan happens to crawl it’s way up your throat as you grind back and forth. Chasing another orgasm. The only thing that can even come close to a solution for your endless desire. But even Frank knows that this isn’t enough.

Calloused fingers toy with the lace band of your underwear, tugging them gently to the side while you lift to allow him access.

“So needy aren’t you, baby?” He teases, that devious smirk still plastered on his face.

You nod enthusiastically. “Need you so bad, Frankie…”

“I know, baby, I know,” he’s got his boxers shoved down and cock in his fist, lining himself up with your already soaking wet cunt. Hands moving straight back to your ass to pull you down onto him with a groan.

You sink down on him, inch by inch and you can’t even help the way your eyes roll back and your breath catches in your throat.

“Let’s take care of you then, hm, pretty girl? I’ll make it all better, I promise.”

#frank castle x y/n #frank castle drabble #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle fanfiction

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komotionlessqueenmm · 4 months ago

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Lost & Found

(1-3)

Previously | Next

Short story # 20

Gif NOT mine.

Summary - When you followed your best friend Wade Wilson into the Void, you never expected to cross paths with your lost love, Frank Castle.

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW (Though there is talk about some dark themes, including death and attempted suicide.)

Reading time (roughly) - 14 minutes

⚠️Some small spoilers ahead!⚠️

We'll pretend that The Punisher didn't die in the void, and in your timeline you were married to Frank, and he was the one to die with your kids, and you became The Punisher.

Ignoring the blood on the seat, (Y/n) lounged in the far back seat of the Honda Odyssey. "You two are ridiculous, you know that right?" She asked the men who'd just finished their little pissing contest of a fight. "Mhh hufp eh." Wade tried speaking, but the seatbelt secured tightly around his mouth prevented actual words. "No I will not be unbuckling you. I want to get some rest, and I can't do that if you idiots keep fighting. So shut up and go to sleep." (Y/n) sassed her best friend, ignoring Logan when he chuckled dryly. "If I didn't know you'd survive it, I'd have shot you both myself." She added with a huff, closing her eyes in an attempt to sleep. "You're welcome to try sweetheart." Logan mused, a faint grin stretched across his lips. "I'll save my bullets thank you." She sassed, smirking when she heard Wade giggle. "My son's were better behaved than you two." She added in a soft tone, upon hearing her admission Logan cracked open an eye, glancing over at Wade who'd gone uncharacteristically quiet. "Were?" He asked without much thought, unaware of the story behind The Punisher. He opened his eyes further when Wade writhed in an attempt to free himself, grunting and huffing about something. "Another time Wolvie, another time." (Y/n) muttered, regretting having brought it up in the first place.

Wade ceased his struggle, but still muttered to himself. And the more Logan thought on it, the more he realized that something bad must have happened. Something Wade clearly knew all about, considering how hard he had been trying to free himself. "I'm sorry." Logan muttered quietly, hoping she heard him. "You didn't know." She responded, as her arms crossed over the white skull painted across her black body armor. "I shouldn't have said anything in the first place." She added while sleep clawed at her tired mind. Logan hummed in his throat, closing his eyes once more as he relaxed into the reclined seat. "How many did you have?" Logan asked without thought, again making Wade struggle against the seatbelts. "Curiosity killed the cat you know." (Y/n) said as she cracked open her eyes, looking to the older man dressed in yellow. "I'm sorry... I just..." He struggled to find the words, unsure of why he was so adamant in asking questions. "I had two sons." She told him, leaning forward to rest her hand against Wades shoulder, to calm his frantic movement. "I was in the special forces, then I was an FBI agent, and I made a lot of enemies in both lines of work." She sighed softly, locking eyes with Logan when he turned to look at her. "During my last mission things went south, and a young man that shouldn't have been there got killed."

She leaned her elbows on her knees, swallowing the knot in her throat. "His parents were the leaders of this big criminal syndicate, and they wanted payback for the death of their son." She leaned back in her seat. "Their men killed my entire family, during a big family reunion in Puerto Rico. They run my husband and sons down with their truck like animals. Then they tried killing me, shooting me in the chest, and then they blew up the pier, while I lay at the end bleeding out." She exhaled through her nose heavily. "'Bout five months later I hunted them all down one by one, and I saved the father for last, made him kill his best friend and his own wife even. That was all three years ago. I met Wade not long after I finished the job, he actually convinced me not to kill myself." She chuckled bitterly, with a roll of her eyes. "And now look at us, lost in the asshole of the universe." She mused sarcastically, making herself comfortable in her seat again. Wade tried wiggling free again, seemingly determined to comfort his best friend. "Don't worry 'bout me bud, I'm alright." (Y/n) said in a comforting tone, smiling softly when he relaxed again. "Now that's enough story time, go to sleep." She instructed like a mother would, making Logan chuckle with a smile. "You're one tough woman." He said as he relaxed once more.

When the car jolted with movement, (Y/n)'s eyes snapped open. With a quick glance, she noted that Wade and Logan were still passed out. Looking to the drivers seat she saw a girl with dark hair driving the car. The sound of the safety clicking off of (Y/n)'s pistol caught the girls attention, and she locked eyes with (Y/n) through the rearview mirror. "Who are you?" The Punisher asked, unsurprised that Wade and Logan still slept soundly. "A friend." Was all the girl said, and (Y/n) hummed as she clicked the safety back in place. "Hope for your sake, you're tellin' the truth." Was all she said as she holstered her pistol, relaxing into her seat she could tell that they were headed in the right direction. "You're a Punisher?" The girl asked, glancing in the rearview before focusing on the path ahead. "I am." (Y/n) clicked her tongue, unsurprised that there was most likely more Punishers within the Void. Especially considering the way Nova had spoken to her the day prior, as if she'd met her before and considered her a traitor. "There's one at our safehouse." The girl told her as they crest a hill, pointing to an inconspicuous place on the horizon. "He's quiet." She added, and the older woman moved to sit in the passenger seat, careful not to bother the guys as they slept.

"If he's anything like me, he's been through a lot." She said brushing away the broken glass before sitting down. "We all have." The girl said, glancing to (Y/n) who nodded her head in agreement. "I suppose you're right." She glanced back at the guy's. "My names Laura." The girl introduced as she put the car into park. "(Y/n)." She nodded her head, and shifted in her seat when the young girl got out of the beat up car, leaving her behind with the guys who still slept soundly in the back. Sighing under her breath she moved to the back, and pulled her combat knife from the sheath strapped to her thigh. With little effort she cut away the straps keeping Wade pinned to the seat, once he was free she simply slapped him across the face. "Daddy?" Wade muttered as he sat up, shaking his head to shake off the sleep. "Not quite." (Y/n) chuckled before testing her luck and slapping Logan as well. The older man snapped awake with an angry growl, his claws extending from the hand closest to her, and he blindly tried swiping at her assuming it was Wade. (Y/n) however dodged the attack with swiftness, smiling at him when he realized who she was. "You'll have to try harder next time." She mused before pulling the sliding door open, letting herself out. "I thought you were Wade." Logan admitted, as he followed her out, feeling bad that he could have seriously hurt her. "I knew what I was doing." She shrugged before cracking her neck.

"Hey that's just hurtful." Wade cut in as he climbed out of the car, glaring at Logan who scoffed at him. "Where the hell are we?" Logan asked as he observed a door leading to a stairway. "Let's find out." (Y/n) mused as she took the lead, followed closely by Wade who was complaining about a stiff neck. "Hey how exactly did we get here?" Wade suddenly asked as they entered a large room, where people were clearly living. "A friend." Was all (Y/n) said, while she observed the trinkets lying around. "Bullshit." Logan muttered, beelining across the room when he noticed a bottle of liquor. "A friend?" Wade questioned with a small tilt of his head. "Patience bud." (Y/n) mused with a faint grin, noting the sound of approaching footsteps from the stairway. "You know I think that's what I like best about you both." Wade pointed to (Y/n). "You always call me bud." He then pointed to Logan. "And you call everyone bub." He then placed his hands on his hips. "It's cute." He added making both Logan and (Y/n) roll their eyes. Before Logan could make a remark, several people made their entrance, and with each person Wade became increasingly excited. Apparently he knew something neither (Y/n) or Logan knew. But when the fourth person descended the stairs coming into view, (Y/n) dropped the glass jar she'd been holding.

Logan glanced at her, and Wade gasped in shock. "No way." He rushed to his best friends side, latching onto her arm like an excited kid. "(Y/n)?" The man breathed out, looking just as stunned as she did. Logan glanced between them, noting the matching gear and decorative skulls. "Frank." She whispered his name, the both of them rushing across the room immediately after to embrace. "How are you here? Alive?" Frank asked as he pulled away from the embrace, to hold her face between his hands. "I could ask you the same thing." She breathed out, her eyes glossy and her throat tightening. Without another word he pulled her into a kiss, both of them pouring their heart and souls into the kiss as if it were their last. "Okay the kids are watching." Wade called out just as Frank's hands drifted down (Y/n)'s back, and when he realized what he'd said he winced as if he'd been stabbed. "Who's he?" Frank asked as they parted again. "A friend. He's kept me sane after..." She said as her hands drifted down his chest to trace the iconic skull. "You're not really her are you?" He asked as he brushed his thumb across her jaw. "And you're not really him." She muttered as she leaned into his touch. "What happened to you?" Frank asked. "Same thing that happened to you by the looks of it." (Y/n) placed her hand over his heart.

"(Y/n)." Wade called out her name softly, drawing the attention of both Punishers to him. "Right." She sighed softly. "We need your help." She looked back to her husband, then to the others that stood on the other side of the room. "All of your help actually." She said as she pulled away from Frank, who was reluctant on letting her go. "Our universe is dying." She explained, only to get cut off by Blade. "I don't give a shit about your universe." He retorted, and Frank glared at him. "Some heroes you all are." She shot back with a scowl. "Whether you care or not, billions of people are going to die needlessly, and there's a chance you can help change that." She looked to Frank, taking a small step back she held her arms out. "I'm no hero, I'm a killer. It's all I've ever been, and it's all I'll ever be. But when someone threatens to kill off my entire universe, I will die trying to stop them. Not for myself, but for them. All of them, the ones that can't defend themselves, the ones that need a goddamn hero, and the ones who will never know of the sacrifices made to keep them safe." (Y/n) looked back to Wade, dropping her arms back to her sides. "I have nothing left to fight for in my universe, but I am still willing to try saving it for those who do." She then looked back to the others. "And if you all would rather sit here and rot away in the asshole of all the universes that's fine." She looked between each of them.

"But I refuse to just sit back and claim it's not my problem, so I'll go back out there. And I'll probably die trying my damnedest to get Wade and Logan passed Nova, but I will die doing what's right, and I will die knowing that I at least tried to do the right thing." (Y/n) said as she took another small step back, and then turned to Wade. "Cap would be jealous." Wade joked, trying to lighten the mood. (Y/n) simply rolled her eyes at her friend despite the small smile on her face. "No I'm serious, I've got tears." He said as he pointed to his masked face. "I'm going with you." Frank said as he moved closer to his wife. "I couldn't save the version of you in my universe, but if there's a chance I can protect you, to save you." He took her face between his hands again. "I'll do whatever it takes." He promised before resting his forehead against her own. "I like her." Gambit said, with a nod of his head. "I'm in." He concluded as he flipped a card between his fingers. "Yeah okay, I'm in too." Elektra agreed as she rest her hands on her hips. "Fuck it anything is better than sitting around in this shithole, I'm in." Blade said as he messed with one of his knives.

"Who knew you were so good at speeches." Wade said with a giggle, yanking (Y/n) away from Frank in his excitement, so he could jump around with her in his arms. "You're all gonna fucking die." Logan said before taking another swig of the liquor he'd been nursing. "Maybe, but atleast we'll have died fighting for something." (Y/n) retorted as she shrugged Wade off. "I'm coming as well." A fifth voice called out, as she entered from another room. Wade gasped in surprise, looking to Logan as he pointed to the girl. "That's X-23." He told him, but Logan didn't seem to care much. "Her names Laura." (Y/n) corrected Wade, who did a dramatic double take. "You know her?" He asked with a small tilt of his head. "She's a friend." (Y/n) told him with a faint grin, holding back a laugh when Wade shouted with excitement. "I don't know how you put up with him." Frank muttered. "He takes some getting used to, but he kinda just grows on you after a while." She said as she smiled to her husband. "Look I know you're not the Frank from my universe, but I just..." Her smile faded. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, and our boys." Her eyes drifted to the floor, the pair of them oblivious to what was going on around them. "Hey hey look at me." He encouraged as he tilted her head up. "I know you tried your hardest, he knows that you tried your hardest. Don't ever forget that." He kissed her forehead, before pulling her into his arms, her head tucked under his chin. "Thank you." She whispered softly, trying to ignore the tears welling in her eyes.

Previously | Next

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madschiavelique · 1 year ago

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𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐦𝐛 — 𝟐

⟢ summary : getting closer to them unleashed a desire within you that cannot be tamed…

⟢ content warnings : NSFW, reader kinda being a perv (she’s obsessed and touch starved), masturbation (reader), reader listens to matt and frank while they’re at it later in the chapter (and she gets off on it), afab!reader, no use of y/n

⟢ word count : 6.7k

⟢ note : remember when i said this was going to be a 2 shot ? well, this is going to be a 3 shot in the end :D (i promise next chap you’ll get that hunter/prey dynamic sweeties)

⟢ previous part : here | next part : here

You'd come back to your flat and taken the opportunity to get some rest. When you're in a small 3 cubic metre room with just enough space for a bed, a mini kitchen and a tiny shower with a lousy toilet, it doesn't take long before you're crashing on your mattress.

Matt and Frank had shown you how to take care of your wounds, giving you a few things to help you out. You'd done everything right, reflecting on that evening all day long.

You couldn't stop thinking about everything that had happened, how you'd felt in Frank's arms, how Matt had comforted you and looked after your lip while Frank stitched you up. You thought about how the devil had stripped you and dressed you in their own clothes, how you'd spent part of your night in their beds.

You'd got rid of your trousers, which weren't very comfortable for lying in bed and resting. At this moment, with your back hard against the bed, it wasn't as comfortable as the silk of their sheets. Scanning your ceiling as if it were of some importance, your eyes looked at nothing in particular as your mind replayed those few major moments in your body, your heart and your thoughts during the evening. You were still wearing Frank's T-shirt, and the urge came over you.

You brought the collar of the T-shirt you were wearing up to your nose, the smell of Frank permeating the fabric but you dropped the collar. You shouldn't be doing this, it's inappropriate, it's unprofessional, it's... It's...

You let your nose discover the fabric again, pulling it close to your nostrils and inhaling the perfume left on it.

Your eyelids closed of their own accord as you exhaled softly, your shoulders drooping as the scent itself brought you the comfort of a night full of feelings. The same coolness of the night filled the black fabric as if the garment had been cut from the dark night sky, where you lost yourself.

You let the smell intoxicate you, searching for it everywhere, in every fibre, every seam, every patch, as if you were going to lose it at any moment. You were looking for him in the meanders of what he had left there, and soon enough, you were looking for them.

Had Matt's plump lips rested on the back of his neck, near the collar, where his warm breath would have sent a shower of shivers down Frank's skin?

As one of your hands gripped the fabric and pressed it to your nose as if it held the only scent you could bear, the fabric's folds lifted the shirt enough to expose your panties and bare thighs. It was then that the sudden coolness caressing your thighs and their insides made you aware of the intense heat that had settled in your lower belly.

Almost feverish, carried away by the smell, your free hand went down your body to reach your inner thigh. Your hand slipped under the elastic of your underwear, moving down until a light touch on the sensitive bundle of nerves made you press your thighs together tighter. Taking a heavy breath as your head fell back on your pillow, you let Frank's scent fill your lungs like new oxygen.

Would a guttural growl have escaped as Matt ran his nimble fingers along the fabric of his ribs, reading every curve of his body?

One of your fingers continued lower, slipping as it passed between your lips into the warm wetness of your desire. You pressed it lightly, coating it with your own juices with incredible ease before sliding it in and arching your back slightly at the sensation.

In the throes of euphoria, it wasn't long before you began slow back-and-forth strokes. You tugged at the collar anew, looking for more of the scent as your own warm breath muted the nuance of it.

Would his fingers have run up and down his back, up between his shoulder blades as one went down to his lower back?

The heat in your lower belly spread further, and as a single finger couldn't satisfy your desire, a second was added, curving and sinking into you in a way that made you curl your toes. The freshness of the scent fed the burning fire in your body, urging you to move faster.

Would he have grabbed the sides of that t-shirt, letting his fingers brush mischievously against Frank's skin as he slid it up his body?

You turned onto your side until you were on your stomach, your breath coming in short gasps as you nuzzled your nose close to your shoulder under the shirt and gripped your pillow, squeezing it tightly between your fingers as your back arched.

You eased your fingers away, returning to your aching clit. It almost hurt to touch it with such slow torment, and you began to make faster circular strokes around it.

Would he have taken it off gently, letting the fabric catch every little ounce of perfume on its way before he just pulled it off his arms and the back of his neck to throw it behind them...

The heat intensified, the knot in your lower belly tightening more and more as your movements accelerated awkwardly in your frenzy, losing a steady rhythm as tingles rose in your cheeks.

He would have run his fingers over his jaw, his thumb pressing against his bottom lip before releasing it so that his lips could caress Frank's…

Your teeth sank into your own lip, the latter still stinging as the fresh cut from the night before reigned over it. But the ecstasy in which you found yourself prevented you from giving a damn, letting small splinters of voice die out in your throat and never escape your lips.

What were you doing imagining this intimate scene, these delicate gestures full of unpronounceable words, the language of which only the skin knew. What were you doing as your eyes, hidden behind your eyelids, let you glimpse the projection of this secret duo? What were you doing, mentally observing them as if through a doorway, while Frank turned to you with an intrigued look.

You're staring little one.

The sentence in your mind made you open your eyes again with a jerk, as if the door behind which you were enjoying the spectacle had just slammed shut.

You yanked off the T-shirt and tossed it across the room, as if it had come too close to you, as if it had burnt so close to your skin that it carried with it a curse, or worse: something you wanted but couldn't afford.

Out of breath, feverish, you watched the almost ridiculous heap it formed on the ground, as if the weight of its lightness was not carrying the heaviness of desire. It was too entrancing, you couldn't allow yourself to give in to it.

That shirt was your shame, the extent of your desire, greater in the moment than your mind. You couldn't see it any more, you couldn't, the mere idea of approaching it now twisted your heart like a can.

Pull yourself together, you thought to yourself as your head spun, as you turned away to turn your back on it, moving back in your bed and lying down to look at your wall.

Your heart still pounding, the heat you'd felt growing inside you still present but gradually calming down, you felt the shame hanging over your cheeks and shoulders.

This idyll that you considered, this fantasy that you wanted to make go away was not possible. A flash of the two of them smiling at you in the kitchen earlier in the day came back to the front of your eyes, and you shook your head, closing your eyelids firmly until you saw multicoloured shapes on the skin of them, as if the gesture was going to erase everything.

Your mobile vibrated, and the screen displayed a message from Frank. Of course, while you were chasing them away in your mind, they were tormenting you with messages. Biting the inside of your cheek, you grabbed your phone. They knew you didn't have much contact apart from them, so unless you'd had some sort of problem or were at work you'd be able to reply.

The idea of ignoring the message was to be ruled out, if by some chance they thought you'd had a problem and one of them arrived here in no time to see you in that state... you didn't want to imagine.

Trying to calm your body from its previous emotions, you took your mobile in hand to read his text message.

No patrol for you for the next 3 days, if any of us come across you on the rooftops between now and then, watch out. Frank.

You swallow, your way out to take your mind off things and potentially forget your urges had just flown out the window. There's not much to do in this shabby flat. There's not really much furniture or shelves to work on, or to read, or to do a hobby, or to do anything else, just your chest of drawers to keep your clothes in, the rest being laid out on the floor.

Going out to fight, to decompensate by exercising and spending yourself enough to simply collapse at night and not have to let the possibility of any thought pierce that rhythm, that was your escape.

But now you were stuck in your flat, tomorrow you'd have to go back to work, and you'd have to live with the shame that seemed to bore into your eyes as soon as they rested on the shirt.

The three days were a constant torment. Clients and colleagues looked at you either as an alien or as a porcelain vase ready to break at any moment, while when you looked in the mirror you seemed to be staring at a wreck.

The first evening was already an ordeal for you, not going out as soon as it got dark to roam the rooftops and streets of the city. Still tired from the pain of your wounds though, you finally found a way to fall asleep and get a long night's sleep.

The second, you were irritated, unable to think of anything other than them doing whatever it was you were itching to do. You ended up putting Frank's T-shirt in your dirty clothes and going down to the launderette to get rid of the torment once and for all. You weren't sure how far Matt could smell or hear anyone's every move, but you sincerely hoped that this short night out wouldn't lead them to you for a slap on the wrist.

On the third night, the urge to go out was itching like an addiction. You couldn't bear the idea of standing still and doing nothing when you were perfectly aware of everything that was going on outside. Having located yourself in an area that wasn't very quiet, you had the urge to grab another shirt and get outside as quickly as possible to follow the sirens that were sounding from a distance. You had to discipline yourself to stay in bed and wait for the night to end.

After a few days of sobbing monotony, the routine resumed the next evening when you met them on the rooftops as usual. Questions were exchanged about your injuries, your new t-shirt for your costume - which they disapproved of once again - and then the night continued as if everything was normal.

However, as the nights multiplied, so did the delightfully unusual instances. A gentle tap of encouragement from Matt's hand on your shoulder that lasted a little longer than it should have, an honest smile from Frank that for once seemed less annoyed that you opened your mouth, a look or touch from one that lasted longer than it should have.

The 'patch-up' evenings began to increase in their turn, resulting in you often coming to their homes in the evening to help tend to them when they no longer had the strength to do anything other than lie down and grunt in pain. This time, you made it a point of honour to sleep on the sofa and not in their bed.

The next mornings for them were rewarded with good coffees that you prepared for them. If working in a café gave you any expertise at all, it was waking up a grouch and a sleepyhead in the morning in a pleasant atmosphere.

Soon, the evenings at their place became more recurrent than those you spent in your flat. So much so, in fact, that they installed an extra mattress near the stairs leading up to the roof for you. It wasn't much, but it was much nicer than the general atmosphere in your flat. Later, after this stage, they came to visit you at work.

The first time this happened, it was Matt who had turned up with his colleagues as if nothing was wrong at the café counter. Playing innocent at the time had been a strange experience.

"A mocha? Really" laughed Karen.

"What ?" retorted Foggy, "it's the most professional way I've found of not having a hot chocolate straight away, so consider yourself lucky for this exemplary behaviour.

"Oh yes, extremely professional."

"Come on," Foggy said indignantly before turning to you.

"Any cafe can look professional if you don't take a closer look at what's in it," you admitted, offering an inverted smile and raising your eyebrows.

"Finally a sane person here," Foggy said, raising his arms slightly in the air victoriously.

"So a mocha with extra chocolate?" you offered. "Extra's on the house."

"Careful with that, I might just become your next regular," pointed Foggy.

"I don't see what the warning would be," you laughed, noting down his order. "For you?"

"A latte, please," Karen replied.

"And I'm the one being unprofessional here."

As the two were zealously debating what a proper professional coffee is, and how the only thing that differentiates their two choices is the fact that Foggy's coffee had chocolate in it and Karen's didn't, Matt walked over to you. You were tempted for a moment to say "the usual?" but, not knowing what he'd told his colleagues about whether he'd come here often or not, you simply waited for him to tell you what he'd ordered.

You were aware of his habits and routines. In the morning, it varied from the fact that he simply needed something strong to wake him up, in which case he'd have a turkish coffee; or if he had more time and wanted to indulge himself, he'd have a latte with sugar, or tea. In the evening, he'd have tea or herbal tea, maybe even camomile tea, even though you knew full well that, tired as he was, camomile tea wouldn't even help him fall asleep.

"A red berries tea, please.

"Not even in the coffee family now, what is this meeting." Foggy grumbled.

You let them take their places in the café, at a table towards the back, preparing everything with care. You were already doing your job well on a daily basis, but the fact that Matt was there, accompanied by his colleagues, made you want to make a good impression.

Do they know? you wondered. Were his colleagues and friends aware that many of his nights were filled with doing his own justice when the Court couldn't do it? You brought them the tray, much to Foggy's delight.

"The mocha for you-" you said, placing Foggy's cup in front of him.

You nearly shook your tray as a sudden sensation spread through you from a gesture invisible to Foggy and Karen, who were too focused on the arrival of their drinks: Matt's fingers had come to rest on the back of your leg, gently tracing them up and down.

You were used to a few touches from him. Since he'd taken care of your lip and dressed you again, his gestures towards you had become more frequent. Of course, there were the taps on the shoulder to congratulate you, but there were all the points of honour he seemed to give himself for your fingers to brush against each other when you gave him his cup of coffee.

You'd already twice simply put his cup on the counter, notifying him of the fact that you'd finished making it, but he seemed to be making up excuses to get you to bring it to him.

"I think this ankle's a bit sore this morning, could you bring it here for me please" or "I think one of the hits I got last night messed me up a bit, I'm going to need some time to recover" and other excuses to get you to take the cup from your hands.

So, soon enough you realised that there was no alternative but to give it to him yourself. You wondered if he was doing this because he could hear your heart beating slightly faster as soon as your skins touched. Matt wasn't the lazy type, so it didn't take you long to realise that he was taking a malicious pleasure in his meagre contact with you.

The confirmation was amplified by the fact that whenever the two of you had the opportunity to share a moment, even just sitting next to each other led to situations where his fingers brushed your thigh. You could feel it sometimes, when he was the one examining your wounds, that his fingers stayed against your skin longer than they should have.

And the sudden feeling of his fingers on the back of your leg sent a shiver up your spine. Did he even have the slightest idea of what this could do to you?

Yes, it was hard to doubt, especially at that moment.

"The latte," you tried to pronounce as you managed to keep your composure, even though Matt's fingers were exerting delicious caresses just behind your knee, making you fear at any moment that you might bend and fall. "And the tea."

You placed his cup in front of him with the bag and the little teapot of hot water, his free hand obviously coming to grasp the cup while your fingers still encircled it. A shit eating grin spread across his lips as you straightened up and brought your tray back close to you.

"Oh, could you pour the water please?" he asked as his whole hand gently came to grip the back of your thigh. "I would, but I'm afraid if I do that the table will turn into a pool of boiling water."

You knew that wasn't true, that Matt could probably have poured the water into his tea a metre high between the cup and the teapot that not a single drop of water would have settled on the table.

Neither Foggy nor Karen seemed to notice of this hidden treatment he was giving you, Foggy humming against his mug in anticipation of drinking his coffee, while Karen rummaged in her bag for documents.

"Sure," you agreed as you picked up the teapot, placed the bag in the cup and began to pour.

Matt's hand gently pressed against your thigh, his thumb circling the fabric of your pants which could have very quickly become enough of a distraction to burn your hand as you poured the hot water.

"Hmm," Foggy hummed as he took a sip of his coffee, "Matt why are you only suggesting this place now?"

His hand moved slightly up your thigh, though not into the field of vision of his two colleagues, bringing the heat up into your lower belly gently like embers being blown on to rekindle a fire.

"I suppose I like to keep my little gems to myself." Matt said, turning to Foggy with a satisfied smile, the phrase making your heart drop into your stomach as you calmly finished pouring the water into his cup.

"Matt gatekeeps, I've seen it all," Foggy huffed.

"All done," you confirmed to Matt as you straightened up.

"Thank you," he grinned at you before letting go of your thigh for a moment, which you seized to leave the table and walk in what you hoped was a normal attitude to the back of the shop.

Closing the door behind you, you let your back press against it. Your heart was beating in your chest like you had just run a marathon. You pressed the back of your hands to your cheeks, warmed by the previous gestures you could still feel lingering on your clothed skin.

You didn't know what you were supposed to feel any more. Was this attraction that you thought impossible to feel for each other, and that you forbade yourself to feel, even possible?

You had to take a few minutes to pull yourself together and get out of the storage room, hoping you wouldn't have to come and serve them any more than you wanted to.

The nights of fighting together resumed as always, Matt seeming excited to see you each time, and Frank gradually seeming less grumpy in your presence - to say that he too was 'excited' by your company would have been a suspicion you thought unlikely.

The next time, however, it was Frank who came to visit you at work.

You were in charge of closing that evening, and Frank had unexpectedly turned up shortly before closure, when no-one was there but you. It was downpouring that evening and you'd been cursing yourself for not having an umbrella.

He seemed as surprised as you were to see you, as if his own presence here in front of you astonished him. There was always a twinkle in those dark eyes, a curious glint that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

It was a little light waltzing hesitantly across his look, which as soon as he got into a fight vanished to make way for two pools of ink, obsidian pearls reflecting nothing but anger, shark eyes mingling with the storm bombarding down his throat.

He was standing in front of you, towering over you as you looked up at him from behind the counter. His eyes were staring at you, shining with a message you couldn't read. You felt tiny like this, under his eyes, under his mass, under the mountain he was facing you.

"Hey," you finally said, clearing your throat.

He seemed to come out of something himself, as if your voice were a gentle hand reaching out to gently touch the bubble surrounding him. He blinked a few times, his gaze drifting over the many different objects on the café counter.

"Um," he began, obviously searching for what he wanted to say to you as he frowned and swallowed. "Could I get a coffee?"

Your eyes widened slightly, the simplicity of the question making your parted lips stretch into a smile, a single laugh swelling your chest for a moment.

"What's so funny," he then asks, confused by your small smile.

"Nothing," you laugh as you pull yourself together, moistening your lips with a flick of your tongue before looking up at him again, a teasing frown knitting your brows together. "Keeping an eye on me?"

He tilted his head back to the side, his eyes looking down at you as he chewed on a bit of his cheek.

"Making sure you don't end up burning the place down," he said with a vague gesture, pointing at you with his chin as he raised an eyebrow.

"You think I'm that incompetent?" you ask playfully, placing both hands on the counter and leaning forward slightly.

"Clumsy and risk-averse sound better," a pout coming from his mouth as he shrugs.

"Risk-averse?"

"You're the one who wears clothes a little too thin for a fight where all hits and weapons are allowed," he says, placing a hand on the counter as he leans towards you, "am I wrong?"

You bite your lip, he had a point, that was for sure.

"Are you here to make sure I don't cut myself on the label of those bloodthirsty tea bags?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

" You'd be capable of it," he admits, straightening up, "But I'm here for one coffee, no actually, for two coffees."

"Two?" you ask as you pick up a mug, followed by a second which you place on the counter as you start to prepare everything. "Did you invite Matt?"

"Not really," his eyes follow your movements carefully before returning to your own.

At the time, you attribute this request to thirst. He's a big man, with a big stomach, and enough grump in him that several coffees in one day is only enough to soften his irascibility. So his pragmatism had led him to have two coffees in one go, you thought.

"What do you want?"

"Just a normal coffee."

"What about the second one?"

"I don't care, just pick one."

You took your usual choice, starting to prepare it under Frank's observant gaze. You began the process with a skilled hand, accustomed to all measurements and other gestures.

"You do this to a lot of people?" you ask over your shoulder as you get everything ready, "to come in just before a place closes."

"Only for my little trouble," he admits.

The nickname sends a shiver down your spine until your cheeks heat up.

"To make more trouble?" you ask playfully.

" Everyone's got their own caviar," he huffs as he watches you at work.

You continued all your preparation, your back to him. He wasn't that far away, and you could feel his stare pressing into your back, covering the entirety of your covered skin like a blanket.

You were trying your best to keep your mind on the right track, to make sure your thoughts didn't wander back to the T-shirt.

You hadn't had a chance to give it back yet, not taking it out on patrol for fear it would end up a rag laced with bullet holes and knife cuts.

"I didn't know I was so much fun to mess with," you admit as you pour the first coffee into a mug.

"Yeah, 'guess surprises can never be taken for granted."

You pour the second coffee into the second cup, placing both in front of him, satisfied.

"Two coffees for you, sir," you smiled, wiping your hands on a cloth.

The nickname 'sir' seemed to leave an impression on him that was at odds with the mood of the conversation so far. His jaw clenched, the muscle at the corner of it tensing, but he pulled himself together and took the two cups in hand. Looking at how tiny they seemed between his fingers, you were surprised when he called out to you:

"Don't stand there rooted to the spot, get over here."

It was then that you realised that the second coffee wasn't for him, but for you.

Frank was inviting you in for a coffee.

The realisation almost took you by surprise, and your heart made its presence felt in your chest all at once. You put the cloth down on the counter, moving to the other side of it to follow Frank.

The lights in the café were almost all switched off, except for those in the reception area, which gave the atmosphere a very intimate, secluded quality.

The rain was pouring down, beating down from drop to drop, crashing against the window near where Frank sat on the seat. You took your place, coffee cup on your side opposite him.

Your fingers wrapped around the warmth of your cup, letting them slip through the handle. Frank was already starting to drink his own coffee, his fingers crossing the handle in a way that made you immediately look down at the contents of your cup before squinting on his phalanx.

Fuck, even the way he's holding a goddamn cup makes you feel all gooey.

"So you're inviting me in for a coffee?" you ask, bringing the hot drink up to your lips to blow on it.

He puts the mug down in front of him, his finger hooking over the cup to catch a single drop of coffee dripping onto its immaculate white surface.

"Take it as you wish," he said, bringing his finger to his lips to retrieve the brown pearl.

You took a sip of your coffee, setting the cup down on the table and letting your hand rest beside it. You raised your eyes to his, watching you as if you were the missing piece of a puzzle he had been trying to solve for some time.

A small smile spread across your lips, and he frowned, waiting for an answer from you on this reaction. You shook your head, looking at the contents of your cup as if it were about to turn into tea and you could read the leaves to find out where this conversation was going.

"'To think that you hated me in the first place, and now we're both together over coffee."

"Hated you?" he repeated as if the word felt peculiar on his tongue, as if it tasted wrong. "No, I was suspicious."

"It didn't take long to realise that you'd be suspicious of a hen if she looked at you for just a little too long," you remark as you grab your coffee again, sinking a little deeper into the leather of the bench seat.

"There's a reason to be suspicious of chickens," he counters, "these horrors are descendants of the freaking dinosaurs."

"Of course, these days they're a huge risk," you shrug.

"Make fun of me." he grinned, a wolfish laugh rising from his lungs as the mere sight of him smiling made your cheeks heat up.

He took his cup in hand, bringing it close to his lips without drinking just yet. He pressed his tongue against his teeth, his lips parted, and the sound was like lighting a cigarette lighter. He stared into space, mentally weighing up the pros and cons of what he had to say.

"You're growing on me better than I'd like to admit," he muttered before taking a sip.

Your heart suddenly felt soft, like a marshmallow on the fire getting all melty and warm. The heat spread to your shoulders and throat in a delicious way.

"Really?" you asked.

"Yeah," he admitted, staring into your eyes.

You tried to hold his gaze, intense as it was. Playing with the shape of the handle of your cup, you tilted your head to one side.

"Like a pretty flower, I hope," you smiled.

"More like a weed," sighed Frank, his lips stretching into a sneer nonetheless.

"The addictive ones?" you brought your mug close to your lips again, the still-warm vapour containing it mixing with the heat of your cheeks.

"No, like the ones you want to get rid of," he replied.

The tone wavered between joke and reality, and you didn't know exactly where you stood, but you waltzed along with the conversation as best you could.

"Too bad for you," you said, shrugging your shoulders and sighing, "they're the most resilient."

"Yeah, that's the problem," Frank glanced at you, his eyes surprisingly soft.

Then you felt your chest tighten, closing in on itself as you'd let your little heart uncover itself and welcome the warmth of a brief moment of delight just to snatch it all away at once.

"Because I'm the human version of a migraine to you?" you asked, your tone suddenly more irritated and cold than the playful attitude you'd adopted since the start of the conversation.

"Because you've entered me and Red's lives so easily, in a way that makes me doubt you'll ever come out of it."

Nothing in his eyes or voice conveyed any discomfort at the idea. Was it really what they were both thinking?

You wondered for a second if he hadn't finished his sentence, if a furtive "but" was going to slip in just after those words and shatter whatever little seeds of hope had been planted in your mind and were gradually sprouting on your heart.

He still had time to trample all that underfoot, to make sure that under his big combat boots he could crush what remained of your wishes. But he did nothing, there was no trace of searching for words on his face, he just seemed to be waiting. Waiting for you.

With your cup in your hand, bringing it close to your lips, you exchanged a glance with him for a moment, and you felt that your next words had an undeniable importance in his eyes. The idea that everything about you was actually important to them gave you a special feeling that you wanted to grasp and snuggle up to, lest it slip away.

"I'm beginning to think you're right," you managed to say before taking a sip from your cup.

"Everything happens," Frank smiled at you, joining in the gesture.

You had finished your coffee, and the rain had calmed down enough outside until not a single drop had fallen against the café window, and Frank decided it was time for him to go back to the flat.

"'Never hated you by the way,' he said once outside the café. "Alright little one?"

You smiled at him, nodding as he turned to go home.

Things began to get really complicated on one particular evening.

At first glance, it was nothing out of the ordinary. You'd had a fairly normal patrol for what you had to deal with on a daily basis, and you'd gone back to the guys' house to disinfect a few small scratches here and there, nothing too serious.

You had eaten a little, chatted as usual, and gone to bed. It was already late at night, and the desire to drink a glass of cool water woke you from your sleep.

Walking slowly on tiptoe, you ventured into the kitchen and silently filled yourself a cup of water. Once you'd quenched your thirst, you made your way back to your mattress, but when you reached the exact spot between your sleeping area and their bedroom, you heard a low voice.

Wondering if they were awake, you stood still for a moment, simply taking a single step towards the wall of their room.

"Hm," you managed to hear through the tiny crack in their sliding door.

You smiled softly, the idea of one of them talking in his sleep making you laugh inaudibly. You were just about to make your way back to your bed, when this time you managed to distinctly hear in the silence of the flat:

"Oh fuck."

Your hand had never reached your mouth as quickly as at that moment, trying as best it could to reduce to zero decibels the sound of your breathing and your heart having travelled up to your ears and obliterating all sound there.

Had you heard correctly?

You moved closer to the wall, your hand pressed so hard against your lips that you had to loosen it very gently to give yourself a chance to breathe. None of them were talking in their sleep as you might have thought, unless the dream in question included so much movement in their sheets and so many interspersed breaths.

With your back against the wall just outside the bedroom, you calmed your breathing, the feeling that your heart could be heard in the whole flat forcing you to find a rhythm that wasn't delirious. Gently, you let yourself slide down the cold wall, sitting with your knees close to you as you listened.

You shouldn't, you kept telling yourself as the memories of the sensations you'd experienced what seemed like the closest eternity ago on that day in your flat with Frank's T-shirt pressed against your skin.

It was when an additional murmur mixed with a groan came from the slight gap in the sliding door that your doubts were certified.

You should have left, should have taken refuge under your sheets and lay down on the mattress, pulling your blanket over your ears to muffle what you could hear...

"Don't stop..."

Inhaling as quietly as you could through your fingers, your thighs squeezed themselves, the search for any friction kicking off deep inside you.

You could feel your lower belly heating up, a persistent warmth settling in the hollow of your thighs and preventing you from thinking about anything other than whatever sound was coming from their rooms.

You could hear the lustful sounds of sucking, of a slight jerk of the body that you could guess was hips bucking into something, a hoarse rumble rising from the very depths of the other's chest.

Your free hand moved down your belly, past the elastic of your sweatpants and your underwear at the same time. You stayed like that for just a moment, hesitating about your next move.

It was wrong, it was revelling in their intimacy like that. But you were now awake, and so painfully aware of your own needs that you couldn't go back.

Your head tilted back and your eyelids closed on their own at the cool touch of your fingers on your damp skin from their hold on your glass of water. The contrast was intense, your digits heating little by little between your lips as they coated your fingers over their entire length with your essence.

You stifled your own moan as you let one, then two fingers sink into you, your shoulders pushing forward, caging your chest as your legs spread a little wider to ease the movement.

Turning your head to the side, pressing your warm cheek against the cool wall, you tried to hear more.

You could clearly hear one voice out of the two, one that was holding back, that seemed to be struggling to find a steady breath. His sighs were laced with muffled moans, his inhalations blocked with a fully open mouth before only letting his breath expel from between his lips.

Each moan spread a shower of embers under your skin, all heating up more and more inside you, a summer fog stretching in your lower belly with intensity. You were attentive to every sigh, every little quickening of breath mingled with the acceleration of rhythm that the other was making with sticky noises.

Your fingers reached the spot inside you, the little spongy part towards the top of your gummy walls that made you see sparks. You were close, your breath becoming less and less regular as you tried to make as little noise as possible.

"Shit Frank," Matt's voice stammered in a forced whisper, "I'm gonna-"

But he never finished his sentence, groans interrupting whatever words he was hoping to utter. Frank's response was not heard, you could only hear a muffled dark grumble followed by a muffled groan from Matt as he shook.

You heard the rhythm pick up, the movements on the sheets becoming more clumsy as Matt's breathing quickened. Your heart was pounding as your fingers continued to curve back and forth, your palm rubbing against your clit for friction. You were practically biting your cheek until it bled as the knot in your gut tightened and tightened and...

"F- Frank..." stuttered Matt as his breathing became increasingly laboured, "Frank," he called as his voice rose in pitch, "Frank!"

And everything exploded within you, like lightning striking metal and spreading waves of electricity through you like a second heart. Your thighs trembled, pleasure surging through you from your toes to the back of your skull.

But you couldn't enjoy this climax for long. The movements on the other side of the wall seemed to subside, Matt's breathing coming steadily as a quiet descriptive pop sounded.

The sheets moved again, and you realised your situation. Your breathing returned to normal as your cheeks felt as warm as the sun. Moistening your lips as you took your hand away from your lips, you watched a spot in the void in front of you.

You made the greatest effort to sit up in total silence, hoping that Matt's mind would be sufficiently scrambled not to have heard you as you returned to your mattress. With your heart still pounding, you slipped back under your blanket, the warmth of your body fading.

Hopefully none of them would find out.

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