#jon bernthal is too goddamn good at acting.
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outer-edges · 1 year ago
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hmmm i think you are single-handedly gonna get to me to watch the punisher which i 1) do not have time for and 2) do not have time for and 3) DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR!!! YOURE DRAGGING ME INTO THE ABYSS RN
IM TELLING YOU MAN YOU GOTTA WATCH THE PUNISHER!!!
frank is SOOOOO blorbo material. he’s just a tragic dad with a dead family who doesn’t know what to do without them. he is literally just such a goddamn FATHER. like bro is killing EVERY SINGLE person responsible for killing his family because that’s the only thing he knows how to do without them and he’s got all this love and grief and anger that he doesn’t know what to do with it. he considers himself to be dead already. he’s so tragic im literally 🤮😭🤮😭😭
also jon bernthal fucking SLAYYYYSSS he is so good at acting every single one of his monologues make me fucking sob no matter how many times I watch it. like idk if you���ve watched daredevil but the one batch two batch penny and dime scene about his dead daughter makes me fucking vomit.
AND S1 HEAVILY FEATURES KAREN PAGE!!
she is one of my favorite characters. she’s so strong and empathetic and tenacious and loyal and she is always there for the people who need her. when she first meets frank he’s bound to a hospital bed like an animal, and she is the ONLY person who cares what happens to him and she essentially forces him to keep going. she has SOOOO much faith in him it’s unreal. and he’s SO protective over her too because she’s one of the few people left who care about him, and she just has this different level of belief in him and they connect so well and they’re chemistry is beyond.
AND DUDE SEASON TWO??? GUESS WHAT SEASON TWO HAS!!! THATS RIGHT!! FOUND FATHER DAUGHTER!!!!!!
NEED I SAY MORE???
in summation: watch the punisher. join me in the abyss.
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Safe with You
Trigger Warning: the Punisher themes, sweet, cute
A/N: honestly, this is pure Frank fluff. He’s cute, and super fluffy, a little angsty, but—Very sweet Frank Castle 😍❤️❤️
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You walk up to him at the end of the night, after turning off the carousel.
“Hi, I see you here every night. You, uh, you’re not a pedo though, are you?” You ask, looking at him with a smile. He huffs, looking at you confused for a moment.
“Nah, just like to listen to the carousel.” He hushes, voice gruff and raspy.
“I figured as much. Don’t you ever get tired of being the same place every night?” You ask, looking at him with curious eyes.
“Nah, not really.” He huffs, “I like the music.”
“The carousel music? You?” You guffaw, looking at him through the corner of your eye with your lips rolled together. He chuckles softly, nodding his head.
“I know it might be crazy, but--”
“No, ‘course not. A huge strong man with bruises and cuts on his face in a black trench coat. Carousel music would obviously be his first choice.” Frank laughs again, this time he smiles at you and your breath hitches in your throat.
“Tell me, why you have such a beautiful smile, and yet I’ve never seen it before now.” You smile, reaching out and grabbing his hand.
“Because I don’t really smile much here.” He starts to frown, but you grip his hand again.
“What’s your name?” You ask, looking to him with excitement in your eyes, twinkling like stars.
“Frank.” He whispers, giving her a soft chuckle, almost as if he were shy.
“Y/N.” You giggle, letting him pull you down onto the bench with him.
“Well, Y/N. Good to meet you.” You nibble on your lip as he puts an arm around you.
“You too, Frank. You like breakfast food?” You ask, looking to him with wondering eyes.
“Yeah, I love pancakes.” You giggle again, happy to let him pull you to your feet and walk with you down the dimly, romantically lit sidewalk of New York to her favorite diner, serving breakfast twenty-four hours a day.
“Not good coffee. I promise you that, but the waffles and strawberry pancakes are to die for.” You chatter as he walks you into the diner.
“Hey, baby. Who’s this fine hunk of man?” Your mother grins, waving a hand to Frank with raised brows and a knowing smirk.
“Mom, stop. This is Frank. Frank, this is my mom.” She smiles, waving to Frank as you two sit and get a hot chocolate and Frank a coffee.
“Hey, ma’am.” He chuckles.
“So how did you meet?”
“At the carousel.” Frank responds, reaching out and taking your hand.
“Oh! That’s sweet! Do you enjoy the carousel? You not-You’re not one of those kiddy diddlers are ya?” She whispers. Frank snorts when he hears you suck in a breath.
“No! No ma’am. I just like the carousel music.” He chuckles, watching your eyes as they twinkle at him like you could give him the world if he wanted.
“The carousel music?”
“Yeah, she couldn’t believe it either.” He laughs, giving her a smile at her very confused expression.
“Really? I’m surprised. When she was a baby I would walk her to the carousel so she could hear it and see the lights. Put her to sleep every time.” She explained with a giggle and a wave of her hand.
“Thanks for the embarrassment, mom. Can I get my usual?” You ask, giving her a smile and puppy dog eyes.
“And I want a stack of pancakes with syrup, and some hash browns.” He offers, giving her mom a smile.
“You got it!” She cheers, skipping away to get them started.
“I’m so sorry.” You groan, covering your eyes, peeking through your fingers at him to find him smiling at you.
“It’s fine. I like it.” He chortles, connecting eyes with you over his coffee cup. Scrunching his nose at the bitterness, you giggle as you look down.
“Listen, I warned you.” You laugh, eyes slits of happy darkness as you reach out to take a sip of your hot cocoa. When the plates arrive, Frank grins at her. Child-like wonder fills her eyes as her strawberry waffles arrive with a smiley face from whipped cream and strawberry slices for eyes.
“You did.” He chuckles, grabbing a fork and stuffing his face.
You two eat in silence, stealing little smiles at each other. Frank pays for your late night breakfast and even offered to walk you home. You oblige, letting him walk with you. He made you feel the safest in the whole world. As safe as you’d ever felt in your life, as if Frank’s presence blanketed you in this feeling that you couldn’t be harmed by anyone.
“So, Frank. What’s your last name? Do you have one?” You giggle, giving him a grin.
“Yeah. Castle.” He sees the gears turn in your head for a moment, the realization on your face. Mouth agape, eyes the size of saucers, your face looks gaunt in the dim sidewalk light as you stare at him in shock.
“Frank fucking Castle? Are you--holy shit. Okay.” You take a couple deep breaths, calming your nerves as your blood jolts through your body.
“Well not exactly. That ain’t my middle name, but---hey. If you’re scared, I can go--”
“No! No. Please.” You whisper, biting your lip and looking up at him through your lightly mascara’d lashes. “I like you. Frank Castle. Even if you were labeled a psycho killer.” You giggle, looking at him still like he was some cute boy.
“I like you too, carousel girl.”
“Carousel girl?” You ask with a half smirk.
“Sorry, Y/N.” He coos, his hands slowly rising and reaching for your face but he pulls back for one second. Worry fills his eyes and he frowns. Taking his hands in yours, you press them to your cheeks and he gasps for only a second. You nod gently into his hands, and his face dips down and presses his lips to yours. Dry and chapped, he kisses you softly at first.
“Frank, do you--do you want to come in?” You whisper, your breaths hot on each other’s faces as you stand centimeters apart.
“Not tonight, sweetheart. I can’t--I can’t ruin this.” He murmurs against your cool skin, sending chills racing across your body.
“Ruin this? We can drink coffee! Sit on the couch. Take a nap. Not talk at tall, I just--I don’t want you to leave yet.” You coo, drawing away from Frank’s warm touch. Frank takes a moment, and you turn and head up the stairs. As you grab the door handle, Frank’s gruff, soft voice calls out low to you.
“I’d love a nap.” He chuckles, reaching the top step in one bound of his long legs, his arm draping over your shoulder.
“A nap it is.” You giggle, giddy with excitement for him to come in. “Darlin’, hold on.” He kicks his boots off at the door before he scoops you up and carries you into your apartment. Dropping you on the bed, you tug off your jeans and so does Frank. Carefully, very cautiously, he crawls into the bed beside you. Something in his eyes catches your attention. His eyes well with unshed tears as he looks to you with a happiness in his eyes that you’d never seen in another man’s eyes.
“Frank--” you whisper, covering his cheek with your hand.
“Listen, I haven’t--” he sniffs, wiggling his nose to distract himself from the feelings, “I haven’t done this since my wife--” his breath catches in his throat, caught on the tears clogging the airway. Frank softly chokes on the tears, but you pull him against you. His arms wrap around you, letting you hold him while he cried for a while. He wasn’t sure what sent him over the edge, but once the dam breaks, it really breaks and Frank finds your arms comforting and trusting.
See, of course you felt safe in his arms, but what you didn’t know, was how safe Frank felt in yours. Frank felt so safe, safe enough to cry. Safe enough to let his guard down and let his emotions consume him. You felt safe with Frank. But the true feeling of home, of safety, was that Frank felt safe with you.
“Thank you.” He whispers, finally drying his face before drawing you against his chest. “Wait, sit up.” He coos, helping you both sit up he tugs his grey tee shirt off his body. Sighing, Frank leans back and draws you against his bare skin. His heart heaves, slamming hard against his chest. You curl against him, his warm, smooth skin beneath you as your hands surf across his body.
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@bebravesunflower you wanna do it?❤️
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Honestly 😍😍 thank you! @adela-topaz-caelon for the tag! ❤️❤️
Thanks for the tag @mijagif ♥️♥️
You’re starring in a movie with the last person saved in your camera roll and the last song you listened to is the title. Who/what is it?
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Is this porn? Not complaining 😈🔥🔥
Tagging: @lexondeck @withmyteeth @frattsparty @thenamesnicolexo @sunnyfleur23 @nessamc @newyorkrican922 @fangirl-life @jemmakates
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itsybitsylemonsqueezy · 8 years ago
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1, 3, 12, and 30 :]
Thank you friend! I appreciate it cc:
1. If someone wanted to really understand you, what would they read, watch, and listen to?
Uggghhhh, what a terrible question, but... I asked you, so fair’s fair.
Read: Frankenstein, Jane Eyre, House of Leaves if I’m feeling mean, but you’d have to laugh at it, like... the only point of that book is the hysterical laughter and if you’re not gonna laugh at it I wouldn’t put you through it because... that just is not... that’s not good bro ^^; Uh... we can replace it with... Young Wizards series c:
Watch: Hannibal, Hannibal... Hannibal again... uhhh... did I say Hannibal? Also, The Fountain, Labyrinth, Austenland because fuck it why not, and I dunno, V for Vendetta ^^; I’m a terrible person. Oh, and MAD MAX: FURY ROAD BITCHES.
Listen: fffffuck me, okay. Gone Away - SafetySuit, Conversion of Saul (turn loudness equalization off in order to appreciate this properly), and Now We Are Free, shut up, meant a lot to me, okay? Arrival of Birds/Transformation, also shut up. Bands, uh... The Decemberists, The Killers, ummm... Vienna Teng, hell yeah. We’ll go with that.Tim Minchin, that too.
3. List your fandoms and one character from each that you identify with.
Oh... mother of god we don’t have... and my fandom list just got bigger. God... damn it. But... okay, we’ll fucking try : |||
Hannibal - Hannibal LecterGotham - Harvey BullockDaredevil - Claire TempleSteven Universe - AmethystDoctor Who - Charley Pollard
We’ll call that enough fandoms I think ^^;
12. Dog person or cat person?
All animals are good animals, in truth I am a pangolin person XP Also whales. But dog person really, yeah ^^;
30. Pick one of your favorite quotes.
*brain implodes from TOO MANY OPTIONS* Uhhh... erggg.... most of my quotes are song lyrics, uhhh...
“You sit here and you’re all confused about this thing, but you have it. You have everything. So hold onto it, use two hands, and never let go, you got it?”
I may never forgive Frank Castle for being this romantic and this eloquent, quite frankly, no pun intended. I’ve just been thinking about this quote a lot, it does gore me in a lot of ways, ESPECIALLY in context, ESPECIALLY the way he looks at her... god... damn it. And hats fucking off to Jon Bernthal who is SUCH an eye actor, I... fucking jesus, he’s in league with Mads for eye acting and YOU KNOW I DON’T SAY THAT LIGHTLY. You want to talk about a man who can control his eye sparkles LET ME OFFER SOME EXAMPLES.
Point is... fuck Frank Castle for giving me all these goddamn feels, take them back, I demand a refund.
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Darlin'
Warnings: the Punisher themes, blood, gore, violence, kidnapping, Agent Madani (cause she's a trigger warning for me XD), sweet Frank
Word Count: 9095. This is a long one. Buckle up! MINORS DNI!
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Her father looked at her with his heart in his eyes, her face bruised and marred.
“Darling, I’m so sorry.” He whispers, patting her hand. She smiles at him.
“It’s okay.” She croaks, cracking her cuts on her face when she smiles bigger. He pats her lips with a paper towel, applying a couple drops off water to her mouth. “Chapstick in my purse, dad.” She coos, giving him a chuckle.
“Of course, baby.” He smiled, kissing her forehead and digging into her purse for that little tube of chapstick. She takes it, putting some on and sighing in relief. “I hired a bodyguard. Don’t fight me this time please. A different bodyguard; one more your style. Maybe you won’t run away from this one.” He chides, giving her a half-unimpressed look.
“Pop, it’s not my fault. He was old and boring.” She whines.
“Well, you can rest assured this one is not old or boring.” He chuckles, waving someone in. This beast of man, with broad shoulders, a strong jaw, and a dark look walks in. Her eyes drink him in. His all black apparel, tee shirt, cargo pants, military boots.
“Wow.” She whispers, “definitely not old.”
“I thought you might enjoy his company more. Since he doesn’t talk and he can’t be persuaded to take you out onto the town at three in the morning for waffles.” Frank chuckles. “Can you be persuaded to take her to get waffles at three in the morning?” He asks, jabbing a finger at the man.
“No, sir. I just think it’s funny that a bodyguard could be, sir.”
“Great. Military.” She heaves a sigh and rolls her lips together.
“This is my daughter, Kat. She’s my baby. I need you to promise you’d give your life to keep her safe.” Her father explains, her eyes watching the gold watch on his tan wrist.
“Sir, can I speak to you in the hallway?” He asks, looking at the door.
“Sir, you know who I am right?” He asks, looking to the man with a partially confused look.
“I’m Frank Castle. I killed so many people the US government lost count and gave me a new identity. But please justs call me Frank.” He explains, and her father’s eyes widen for a moment.
“You are Frank Castle. Wow.” He whispers.
“Yeah.” He nods.
“Alright, well. My daughter, Kat, she’s my world. Do you understand that?” He asks, looking to Frank and seeing him nod.
“Yeah, I get that.” He swallows hard.
“Good, now. My daughter is my whole existence. I love her with everything I have. She’s in the hospital because some men were looking for me and she wouldn’t give me up. If you’re ever in that situation, and she’s with you, tell her to give it up. Okay? My life is not valuable if I lose her. Understood? So if she’s ever kidnapped with you, please, give them whatever information they ask you for, okay? And when she gets released today, I’m putting the two of you in a safe house so she can heal.” He offers giving her a smile through the window, waving. Something about the sweet woman laying in that hospital made Frank almost feel weak. His stomach seemed to turn.
“Okay, and who’s supposed to be posted anywhere else near it? I’ll kill on sight if I don’t know them.” He states as calmly as his own name. Her father, Gianno, grins and claps Frank on the shoulder.
“Your huge. You’re a killer. And it’s sweet.” He chuckles, leaving Frank outside for a moment as he goes to talk to his daughter.
“Honey, I need to tell you something, okay? When you’re released in a few minutes, I’m going to have you quietly placed in a safe house away from me. Okay? Until you’re healed. Please don’t be mad.”
“Mad? Is Hercules going?” She giggles, pointing to the large man with his back to the door. Her father just nods and laughs. “Then I am not mad. I’ll be holed up in a one bedroom apartment with that sweet, huge man and I cannot wait.” She explains.
“Wow, you know you can’t sleep with him, right?”
“And if I did. I’d never tell you. Who’s packing my stuff?” She asks, looking at him quizzically.
“Lyla is, currently. I figured if any girl knew what to pack it’d be her.” He laughs. The door opens, Frank nodding to her father.
“Hello! I’m Doctor Haas. I’m here with the paperwork for you, dear.” The woman nods with a gleaming smile. Handing over a clipboard, Kat signs the paperwork in record time and happily changes out of the gown. “We’ll grab a wheelchair from the hall and--”
“No! No, please. No wheelchair. Between pop and Hercules I’ll be fine. Honestly. I wanna walk out on my own.” She whines, standing on quaking legs.
“Alright! No problem.” She smiles, giving her a nod and sending her on her way.
“Honeybun, maybe you should think about using the--”
“No! Pop, I’m not using it.” She gingerly steps into the hallway. Frank looks down at her for a moment, taking in the situation. Before he can say a word, she looks up with shimmering grey-blue eyes and a pleading smile. “I can’t use a wheelchair. I have to walk out of here.” She whispers, gripping his hand.
“Okay.” He whispers back. With a look at her, he tucks her under his arm, holding her up at her waist to keep her on her feet. Even when her legs start to give way at the exit door, Frank holds fast and gets her quickly to the car.
“You can do it.” He whispers as the steps get closer and closer, the car only a yard away. “Come on. If anyone can do it, you can. You didn’t take a wheelchair because you know you’re strong.” He coos, getting her to push through the last ten steps before collapsing into the SUV.
“Thank you.” She whispers, hugging his neck as he lifts her onto the seat. He climbs in next to her, buckling her in.
“Safe house.” Her father states as he gets into the passenger seat with a little smirk on his face.
“Tell me, Hercules. Where are you from?” She asks, gripping his bicep and gleaming up at him.
“Queens.” He smiles, his eyes scanning around them while he talks to her.
“You married?” She asks, looking at the necklace that hangs around his neck.
“I was.” He states, looking out the windows for suspicious cars.
“Ah sorry. Divorced?”
“Killed. My wife and two kids.” He states, looking to her with pain in his eyes.
“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” She coos, patting his shoulder. “God I’m tired.” She murmurs, tipping over onto his shoulder and falling asleep. He gently leans her to the other door onto the padded seat back and sits back up, eyes scanning again.
“Mister Luccianni, that silver grand am to your right, has been following us for the past two miles.” He states, grabbing for his weapon. “Gimme the go, I’ll smoke em.” He offers, narrowing his sights and putting his finger on the window button.
“Stand down. They’re your test. You passed. Good eye. Is she asleep?” Her father asks as they pull into a parking garage.
“Yeah.” He nods, the car coming to a slow stop in a parking spot.
“The silver car has her things in it. It’s the most common car in the state of New York it seems. So, Lyla, her best friend is in the car. She’s sex-crazed and will probably hit on you. She’s got Kat’s things and she can help put them in the apartment. Now. Next, I need you to carry her in, as unsuspecting as possible. It’s midday and people are out and about. Try not to give yourselves away. Lyla is dressed in a mover’s uniform. Short brunette, pencil straight hair. There will be neighbors out. You two are newly married until you get in that door.” Her father debriefs him with a smile and gives him a nod.
“Got it, sir. Is she to stay in the apartment all the time? Will she sneak out? What do the men look like who did this to her?”
“Don’t keep her cooped up the whole time, she’ll go crazy. Call a driver first. The driver confirms with you. You bring her out as your new wife. You get into the car. She will sneak out. Lyla will probably convince her to sneak out so they can go wine tasting or something. Lyla’s a good girl, but she’s crazy. The men who did this? They look dead.” He answers all the questions and he nods. Frank found her interesting. “She’s been engaged, but never married. He was killed, much like your family.” He coos, looking at his daughter with a loving, sad smile. “Alright, it’s time to go in.” He smiles, letting Frank get out first, scooping her out of the seat and starting towards the door.
“What-what’s happening?” She asks. Half awake, half asleep, the jostling is all to familiar and she kicks out, diving to the ground and waking up immediately. Frank stares down at her with wide eyes and a little smirk.
“You good now?” He gruffs, sticking out a hand. She takes it, allowing him to pull her to her feet.
“Yeah, I’m so sorry.” She whispers as he tucks her under his arm.
“It’s okay, hunny. Those men can’t hurt you again.” He states out loud, his big hand covering the side of her face and holding it against his chest. “We’re married when we leave this aparment.” He hushes as they walk, never missing a beat.
“Well, alright then.” She giggles loudly, letting him keep her against him. As her father lets them into the apartment, Frank almost has to peel her off of him. “Aw, c’mon hunny! I’m not done cuddling.” She whines, making grabby hands at him. “You’re so warm.” He just chuckles, heading into the room with her father and other guards to discuss what the next plan is. A knock at the door has Frank’s undivided attention. Peeking through the peephole, he sees the described woman who was bringing her things in. He waves her over, signaling to be quiet.
“Is this Lyla?” He asks, covering her mouth as she gasps. She nods violently, grabbing for the handle. Frank’s hand is faster, tugging hers away. “Go over there.” He hushes, pointing behind the couch. Huffing, she rolls her eyes and wobbles to the couch. Frank carefully opens the door and finds a petite woman with a cart full of suitcases. “Name.” He barks, hand resting on his pistol.
“Lyla. I’m here for welcome party.” She grins so widely Frank finds it odd, but when he peeks out, he sees a neighbor looking over at them.
“My wife must’ve invited you! C’mon in!” He cheers, waving her in and shutting the door. “The arsenal arrived.” He chuckles, waving Kat over.
“I’m so happy to finally see you!” She cheers, gripping her best friend in a warm, tight hug. When Kat groans at the slight throb in her ribs, Frank’s head flips back to them.
“You okay?” He asks.
“Yeah.” She assures, heading into the bedroom and Lyla follows, dragging the bags along with her. Frank laughs, heading back into the room with her father and guards again. She curls up onto the couch after waving goodbye to her best friend. Frank had tossed his jacket onto the couch with his duffelbag and when she saw his coat, the only blanket-like thing near her, she draws it to her and covers up with it.
“But we’ll head out so you two can get better acquainted. The fridge and cupboards have been stocked up for you. Drinks are in the island, as well as wine in the cabinet. If Lyla tries to kidnap her, just shmooze her with wine tasting.” He chuckles, kissing his daughter atop her buised head and stepping out.
As she wakes from her nap, she sees the most glorious sight. A glass-walled shower with frosted glass and her bodyguard’s naked body in said shower. He climbs out, wrapping the towel around his waist. Combing through his hair, he feels eyes on himself and looks out the open door to see she’s awake.
“Hey, hot bodyguard.” She gives an awkward wave, jaw still on the floor.
“Hey, Kat.” He waves, dropping the towel just outside of her eyesight, returning a moment later dressed in a gray tee shirt and jeans, hearing a audible groan.
“It’s Frank, by the way.” He chuckles, offering a hand.
“It might be wise to know my newly wedded husband’s name. In case the neighbors ask.” She laughs, patting the couch with an inviting smile.
“You should shower.” He ruffs, helping her to her feet. “Doctor said first night you shower, try not to lift your arms too much. So I’m the best you got.” He smiles, a little excited to see her naked, frosted glass or not.
“Great. So you’re name is Frank, you’ve known me twelve hours, and now you’re going to see me naked? This is a fucking treat.” She rolls her eyes, but Frank just laughs.
“You didn’t think you’d be the only one to get a show, did you?” He asks.
“Hey now! I happened to wake up at the right time. That’s not my fault.” She laughs, defending herself as she gives a grin.
“It is now, c’mon, doll.” He chuckles as she digs through the suitcase for underwear, a bra, and a shirt. She’d found shorts already.
“Did you just call me doll? Should I call pops and tell him you already have a crush on me?” He just rolls his eyes as she walks to the bathroom. Tugging off her sweatpants and underwear, she feels exposed, but she can’t get her shirt off. Snapping her fingers, she hooks the t-shirt’s collar onto the towel hook and tugs the shirt off, sobbing when her arm is raised so high. Frank comes through the door.
“You okay?” He asks, looking around her to find her shirt hanging on the hook.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” She nods, letting Frank’s eyes drink her in. “Actually, Frank? Can you unhook this? I can’t get it.” She whines, pushing on her bra with one hand.
“Sure.” Unhooking her bra, his knuckles brushing her smooth skin, his eyes travel down the gauze pads that pepper her back.
“Those have to come off too.” She whispers, meaning the gauze pads. He peels each one off gingerly to find a variously shaped cigarette burns on her back.
“What the hell?” He whispers, his finger running between the burns. She shivers at the intimate touch and he jerks his hand away. “Sorry, I-”
“It’s okay.” She whispers, putting Frank’s hand back on her shoulder and letting him trail down again.
“It looks like a constellation.” He whispers, pulling away his hand.
“Thank you.” She coos, letting the hot water start.
Frank washes her back and shoulders, gentle around her burns.
“Thank you.” He puts the loofa down and steps out of the bathroom giving her a little privacy and himself a little space. He didn’t know why he felt this way, but he wanted so badly to kiss every little mark, trailing down her back. Huffing to calm down his nerves, he heads to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Not finding any, he mixes up a couple mugs of hot chocolate.
“So, uh, no coffee. But, I found some hot chocolate.” He smiles. Offering a mug of steaming hot cocoa.
“No coffee?” She asks, looking at him like he’d just sworn at her.
“Right? No coffee.” She pulls out her phone and sets up a delivery for starbucks in the morning.
“I probably shouldn’t drink any, anyway. It’s late, ya know. I should sleep.” She groans as they finish off the hot chocolate.
“Yeah, you hit the bed. I’m on the couch.” He explains, pointing to the bedroom.
“No, no. I can’t sleep there while you--”
“It’s my job. Okay? So you get in there and go to bed.” He orders, letting her get up and walk to her room.
Almost an hour passes when he hears her voice softly muttering under her breath.
“Darlin’?” He asks, looking into the dim room to see her thrashing on the bed, a scream filling the room. He bolts to her bed, grabbing her shoulders and hugging her against him. “IT’s not real. It’s not real. You’re in a safehouse. You’re name is Kat. You have a bodyguard named Frank. Your father is a mob boss.” He whispers things that are real as she comes out of her nightmare.
“Thank you.” She sniffs, curling into herself. He sits gently on the edge of the bed and draws her against him.
“No problem. Sometimes I get ‘em too.” He ruffs, looking at her with a small smile.
“Really? How do you make them go away?” She asks.
“I killed the men responsible.” He offers a crooked smile and she laughs. “Go to sleep.” He coos, smoothing her hair as she starts to drift.
“Oh, Frank? Tomorrow morning there’s supposed to a delivery driver at the door. I ordered coffee for the morning.” She smiles, letting him hug her against him, resting his chin atop her head.
“I’ll try not to kill them.” He hushes as he hears her lightly snoring. Sleep starts to push his eyelids closed and slowly, he leans back against the headboard, exhausted. Soon, she’s climbing on him in her sleep, cuddled as close as possible under his chin and on his chest. His arms curl around her instinctively. Safety washes over her as she peeps through one sleepy eyelid to see Frank so close to her asleep. Smiling, she tucks her head back under his chin and goes back to sleep.
A knock sounds at the door, waking them both out of their comforting bubble.
“Ssh. Don’t move.” He rises, scrubbing his face and stalking silently to the door. She takes a ten from her wallet and slides it under the door. “Put the coffee down, take your tip and walk away.” He demands, never opening the door. Once the man’s out of sight, she slips out and snatches the two coffees and the small bag of coffee grounds.
“Frankie!” She calls, handing him a coffee when she finds him standing in the kitchen making breakfast.
“Yes, coffee.” He chuckles, taking the cup and sipping the hot caffeinated drink.
“Thank you for last night. Ugh, sounds weird to say like that, but you know what I mean. I didn’t have a nightmare when you slept there. Can-I just-well-sorry. It’s stupid.”
“Nah, ask.” He assures, sliding a plate across to her.
“I just wondered, you know, if maybe--if you wanted to--possibly sleep in the same bed again. It doesn’t have to get weird. I just--that was the first night in almost two weeks I didn’t have another nightmare. It was exhilarating.” She stammers, so afraid of what the big brute might say.
“That’s fine.” He nods, sitting down to eat, but not before he pats a hand to her shoulder.
“So tell me something about you.”
“I was in a special forces military ops.” He offers, finishing his plate in record time.
“Wow, that’s explains your nightmares.” She wags her brows, almost halfway done with her plate.
“No, it doesn’t. My family was shot in a park. While I was there. It was meant for me but they didn’t get me. They got my son, my daughter, and my sweet wife.” He husks, his throat starting to close. Springing from her seat, fork clattering to the plate with a glass ‘ting’ she jumps into his arms, wrapping her arms around him and gripping tight.
“Christ, I’m so sorry. My husband was shot down while working with my father. The bullets were meant for my father, but the killer got the wrong info.” She whispers, and Frank’s arms wrap around her, hugging her tight to his hard body.
“I’m sorry.” He whispers, letting her hold him for what seems like hours.
“Frank? Can you promise me something?” She asks as she leans back a little.
“Sure.”
“Promise me you’ll do everything you can to stay alive. Okay? You’re a good man, Frank, and I don’t want to be the reason you die. I--You could walk out and I’d understand. You can leave.” She assures, elbows resting on his shoulders. Frank rises to his feet, towering over her and grabs her chin in his thumb and first finger.
“I’m not leaving. I’m not going anywhere. I already made a promise to your father to keep you safe if it kills me, so his negates yours. Sorry, hunny.” He hushes, grinning at her.
“Ugh, no fun.” She whines, tugging her face away from from his warm, firm grip and finding a sweatshirt to put on. It was chilly, Frank found it soothing, but his roommate not so much and she came back into the room in his black hoodie, almost drowning in it. He couldn’t hide the the small chuckle. “Hey Frank? Do you think we could go out today?” She asks, rolling the sleeves once so she could use her hands.
“No. I think we could not.” He mocks in a high pitched voice. She crosses her arms over her chest and pouts. Frank huffs, not sure if he should take her out. Grabbing his phone, he dials her father. “Why do you need to go out? We have coffee now, what else do you need?” He asks.
“I want fresh veggies from the market. I’d love to make something for dinner but all we have are like--lettuce and carrots.” She complains through a hand at the fridge in exasperation.
“Lettuce and carrots, fresh veggies! By the way! And you’re complaining.” She grabs his hands and gets right up to his chest.
“C’mon sweet husband of mine. Don’t you want to go out with your new bride?” She asks, jumping a little in excitement.
“Darlin’. Listen to me-- Yeah!” He answers his phone as her father calls him back.
“Hey Frank! You rang?”
“Yeah, your daughter wants to go out to the market right down the block. She wants to buy some veggies. I’m on my A game, sir. If you’re fine with it, I’ll take her.” He offers, shushing her with his hand clasping over her mouth. She looks at him with a smile, Frank feeling his heart swell.
“If you believe you can handle it, I don’t care if you two love birds go out.” Her father chuckles. “Put her on quick.” Frank puts the phone to her ear.
“Hello?” She asks.
“Hey baby. Listen to me. I don’t care if you two leave, but you have to stay at Frank’s side. You have to stay glued to him. You understand?” He asks into the phone, his expressions matching his words as if he were speaking to her face to face.
“Yeah, pop. Like glue. I love you!” She smiles into the phone, her father saying it back before they hang up.
“You ready?” He ruggs, offering her an elbow after letting her put on her white Gucci sneakers with her shorts and Frank’s sweatshirt. Sweater paw on his elbow, they leave arm in arm. His grips her hand as they step out. “Also, I’m Pete, your Honey.” He smiles, earning a half-upset look from her as they get into the elevator.
“Alright Pete.” She coos as they get into the car waiting for them. Driving them the two blocks, Frank gets out first, eyes scanning the perimeter. Finding nothing alarming, he nods to let her out. Her sweater paw reaches for his arm, but his hand cups high on her hip, pulling her against him as they walk through the market. “Aw hunny, over here! Some tomatoes! And some fresh basil, oregano, thyme, and ooh! Parsley!” As the two pay for their vegetables at each stand, Frank notices the man a few yards back, following them. Frank tries to hurry her along, but she’s intrigued by every stand and wants to look at everything. With two bags of veggies, a bag of chicken, and a grin as wide as Frank’s chest, he convinces her to get in the car just as the man reaches for her. Frank’s hand comes down hard and fast. When the man sees Frank’s face, his heart hits the floor and he turns, running away.
“Hunny, did that man just run the other direction?” She asks, looking to him as he shoves her into the car and they get into the apartment as fast he can. Once in the door, Frank’s hands graze over her body to be sure of no injuries, but she laughs it off.
Stepping into the kitchen, she opens the cupboard and heaves a sigh of relief.
“Thank god they brought cooking wine.” She assures, reaching but not quite grasping it. Climbing onto the counter and grabbing the wine bottle, her hand slips and she falls backwards but she and the wine bottle, never hit the floor.
“You are so clumsy.” He chuckles, righting her small frame and handing her the wine. “What are you making?” He asks, looking to her with a smirk.
“Chicken cacciatore, my nonna was the best at it, but I try my best.” She smiles shyly as she starts cooking.
As Frank takes his first bite, his eyes roll back and he moans. His reaction catches her offguard and she looks at him with a confused smile.
“It’s good. What can I say?” He shrugs, giving her a smile.
“Right, thank you.” She coughs, going back to eating her own. It didn’t taste like home but it almost did. She was happy to have it. She thinks back to earlier when the man trying to attack her saw Frank and ran away. It was remarkable yet a little unnerving. “Hey, Frank? Why did that man run away from you?” She asks as he takes a bite of dinner and looks up from his plate. His eyes are calculating, not sure what he should say. He assumed she knew about him. Since her father had found out, he assumed that she knew.
“I uh, I killed a lot of people. Bad people, but, still alot of people.” He wags his brows, holding his breath.
“How many?” She asks, taking another bite as if this were small talk.
“Thirty five.” He coughs, trying to disguise it. She looks up for a moment and a grin crosses her face.
“Wow, thirty five? My father’s record for one day is only ten.” She blabs, continuing to eat.
“It wasn’t in one day. I killed all the people responsible for my family’s deaths. Everyone.” He hushes, looking at her as she continues to eat. When she glances up, her eyes meet his and she gives an apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry, Frank. Holy shit!” Her fork clatters to her plate and she jumps to her feet. “Frank Castle! Holy shit! Oh my god! You’re Frank Castle! Holy fuck.” She stammers over and over, staring at him with wide, loving eyes. “Sorry, most girls crush on celebrities, but not this one. I mean, you are a celebrity, a dead one. But still, wow. You are beautiful.” She coos, staring at him. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. Wow, Frank Castle. I gotta call Lyla! She’s never gonna believe this!” She crows like a teenage girl, fumbling for her phone. “We used to watch your news pieces and when you killed all those people in prison, amazing.” He plucks the phone from her hand and he laughs.
“No out calls.” He laughs, trying to compose himself.
“Oh come on! I just made the discovery of a century, and you won’t let me call my best friend?” Whining, she stamps a foot like a child and he gives her a half smirk.
“I’m sorry, darlin’.”
“Stop calling me that.” She huffs, her playfulness gone for a moment.
“Why?” He prods. A knock sounds at the door, making both of them jump. His hand grips her wrist across the table and he creeps around, putting her against the wall. Sneaking to the door, he looks through the peephole to see Lyla standing there, but instead of her giddy self, she’s rather squeemish, shifting from foot to foot, looking around nervously. Frank carefully opens the door, but it comes blasting in on him, sending him soaring into the couch.
“I’m sorry!” Lyla sobs as three grown Russian men shove in, grabbing Frank and throwing fist after fist into his face. Looking for her, one Russian reaches over the counter to grab her, but she stabs him with a knife in the arm. The man growls, yanking his arm back. Dislodging the knife, he tosses it aside to find she’s gone. Hunting for her while they kick Frank. A gun shot echoes and one of the Russians falls to the floor. Lyla stands with the gun in her hands, tears in her eyes as another Russian jumps on her, grabbing her by the hair and throwing her into the wall. Kat finds a gun in Frank’s bag and she shoots the large man beating on her best friend and just as she points the gun at the one on Frank, she sees the man’s dead body flop over onto another of the Russians. Frank rises to his feet, blowing air out his nose, blood spraying as he did so. Foot steps slow and calculated as he walks to Lyla, her scared whimpers enough to break Kat’s heart as Frank grabs the front of her shirt and drags her to her feet.
“You brought them here?” He growls low, his voice dark and feral.
“I-they were gonna kill my mom and me if I didn’t tell them.” She whimpers, tears falling down her face.
“And they almost killed you and her.” He barks, pointing to Kat, who stands in shock, quaking with a gun in her hand. Frank limps to her, slowly drawing the gun from her hands and placing it on the couch. “It’s okay.” He whispers, letting her drop her head to his shoulder. She hiccups and then sobs, gripping the back of his blood soaked shirt.
“Frank--you--you’re--” He covers her mouth with a bloody hand, shaking his head.
“I’m fine, darlin’.” She huffs and smiles, tears staining her cheeks. When her eyes lift over her shoulder, she sees the front door still wide open. Giving a shriek, she slips from his grip and slams the door, locking every deadbolt and chain before running back to Frank and gripping him tight.
“Frank, you-you’re bleeding.” She coos, carefully taking him to the couch. Appearing a moment later with a kit in her shaking hands. “Lyla, grab the bottle of rum from the cupboard. Also, it’s Frank fucking Castle!” She cheers as Lyla brings the bottle to her. When her eyes finally meet the man’s face she gasps.
“Holy shit. Your serial killer boyfriend is real.” She laughs, trying to calm her down. Taking a couple swigs from the bottle, she offers it to Frank.
“You want any?” She asks.
“Nah. Really I’m fine.” He hushes, letting his hands cover hers.
“Shut up, Frank.” She nips, swatting away his hands. Cleaning up his face, she puts a couple butterflies on the cut on his forehead, and a bandaid on the little ones on his cheek and chin.
“Darlin’ c’mon. Stop it.” He huffs, pushing her hands away. Jabbing a finger into his chest, earning a groan.
“Quit. Calling. Me. That.” She bites, clapping the kit closed and stomping to the bathroom to put it away.
“What’s her problem?” He huffs to himself, grabbing his cellphone and dialling her father.
“Yeah?”
“So the friend we thought we could trust, not so trustworthy. I need a discreet clean up crew.” He explains, when he sees her appear again. She hooks her arms under the man’s arms and drags him over to the pile of two more bodies and groans in disgust. “Hey, quit touching those.” He hushes, covering the mic on the phone.
“No! I want them gone.” She cries, tears starting to fall down her face.
“Ssh, it’s okay. Calm down.” He cuddles her against his strong body and coos in her ear.
“Clean up crew is on it’s way. Now, tell me my daughter is okay.” Her father’s voice calls to Frank.
“She’s fine, sir. She was cracking jokes earlier.” He chuckles, giving her shoulder a squeeze.
“Good. The clean up crew is four men. They’ll bring a laundry cart up, say they’re here for pickup. You let them in.” Her father says as someone knocks on the door. She dives for the pistol and points it at the door, quaking as Frank carefully opens it to find a two laundry bins and four men.
“Sorry, she’s still scared.” He offers, reaching out and pulling the gun from her hands.
“It’s okay, sir. We just want to remove the bed bugs and get you cleaned up.” The man informs, putting the bodies into the carts and cleaning up in less than an hour. A deep breath escapes her as she sags against Frank, relaxed. His arm closes around her shoulder and he pats her clothed back.
Two Weeks go by, fun had by the two holed up in a small New York penthouse.
“Hey doll, I’m gonna head down for coffee. Don’t let anyone in, okay?” Frank’s gravelly voice washes over her for a moment as he walks through the door. “Lock all of these. I’ll knock twice and call out to you.” He smiles, patting her arm before stepping out and shutting the door. Frank listens as the door locks click, breathing out softly. He was nervous to leave but he hadn’t heard a sound, and there were other men posted outside the room and the building.
He gets to the bakery just down the street and orders her coffee, and his, getting a strawberry turnover with a little smile. Paying for the items, Frank looks at the bag and coffee cups in his hand and he gives a chuckle. He thought to himself, for a moment that he could have this. This life could be his. Getting coffee and turnovers in the morning like some kind of domesticated husband, the kind of husband he wanted to be for Maria. He chuckles, shaking his head. As he gets up the stairs, he sees two guards knocked out, laying in a pile.
“Shit.” Sprinting into room, the coffee hitting the tiled floor and splashing out, splattering up onto the bottom of the sofa where they sat comfortable in each others silence for almost four weeks. His eyes drop to the blood on the couch and the blood on the table, smeared like fingers grasping for the edge. His breath hitches, trying to breathe, but he can’t. “Kat! Kat!” He shouts, screaming at the top of his lungs.
“Frank Castle. It is Castle, right?” A voice calls, and when he turns, he finds a small woman standing before him, Agent Madani.
“What the hell are you doing here?” He barks, voice low and eyes on hers like lasers.
“Saving your little girlfriend you’ve been playing house with. She’s safe. Undisclosed location. Thinks her father is in questioning. No worries, nothing incriminating. But, tell me, Frank. What would you do if I weren’t watching this place, huh? I need to make a deal with her father, but he needs to know it’s the FBI. He will go to a maximum security prison for the rest of his life, but he and his daughter will be safe. The safest she can be, which I think is a little important to you.” She informs, arms crossed over her chest, watching Frank stand there, his chest heaving.
“You have her? Is she under surveillance? Can I see her?” He barks, storming towards her like a black cloud.
“After you get me a meeting with her father, Gianno Lucciani.” She retorts, not letting up. Frank steps closer, hand gripped around Madani’s neck, ready to squeeze, but he doesn’t.
“I’ll see.” He whispers, yanking away the hand around her neck he grabs his phone, calling her father.
“Frank?”
“Yeah, Gianno. Listen to me, man. You gotta come down here to the safehouse.” Frank tries to be calm but his voice wavers slightly.
“Frank, what’s wrong?” He demands.
“There’s some FBI agents here. They’re questioning Kat. They want to cut you a deal. They said they’ll let Kat go when you’re here.” He informs.
“Okay. I’ll be there in five minutes.” He barks, hanging up.
“You gotta handcuff me. When he gets here, he’s gotta think you busted in and got me down first. You’re gonna wanna bring Kat back in too.” He offers. “If his daughter isn’t here, he’ll kill everyone in here if he doesn’t see her face.” He shrugs, putting his hands behind his back and letting them cuff him. They cuff his ankles too for good measure and just as they drop him onto the ground her father comes bursting into the door.
“My daughter.” He growls, gun jammed into Madani’s head. “Unlock him. He’s just her bodyguard. Pete Castliglione. You’re name is Pete right? Why is he handcuffed?” He barks, jabbing a finger at Frank on the floor.
“Yeah, listen, Madani knows. I’m Frank fuckin’ Castle. Okay? We need to see Kat now.” He barks as they take the cuffs off.
“Bring her in.” Madani calls, waving to a couple agents as they head out, returning with his sweet Kat.
“Shit.” He whispers as she piles into him, clinging to him like a lifeboat in the middle of a raging sea.
“Frank, Frank. They broke in. They-the government. They took me to a room. Questioned me. Frank, I--”
“Ssh. Ssh. Ssh. It’s okay, darlin’.” He whispers, her father stepping out into the hallway with Madani.
“Frank I said--”
“Don’t call you that, but it’s important today. Okay?” He coos, grabbing her and kissing her forehead. Her father walks in just in time to see Frank holding her tight against him. His big arms wrapped around her, making her look small and frail.
“Kat, baby, you okay?” She twists around in Frank’s grip. As he starts to let go, her hands grip tightly to his forearms and she chokes on a sob.
“It’s okay. I’m right behind you.” He coos, tugging his arms away as she stumbles to her father.
“Baby, you’re okay. Listen, daddy’s gonna be going away for a while. Okay?” He coos calmly, as if he’s still talking to the same little girl from twenty years ago.
“Daddy, what--”
“The government woman is--”
“Quit talking to me like a child!” She shrieks, screaming at him and stamping her foot.
“I’m taking your father into custody for all the money laundering, the murders of five men, and for running a drug ring underground that we now have you admitting to.” Madani informs loudly as they cuff her father and start walking him down, out into the parking lot. “Put a vest on her, call it protection, whatever you need to do to put her into safety. We’ll shoot her. Take her as crossfire. The Russians and the Cartel will be down there. He’s safest in prison. And we’ll get him there. I need Frank removed safely. Once we’re out of here, they’ll load her into a body bag and get her somewhere safe with Frank. No one tip off Frank or the father. If they know something’s up they’ll take her, whether they think she’s alive or not.” She informs her agents as they load Frank and her father into cars. When she screams at them, the firing of pistols and semi-automatic hand guns fills the air.
“No! Daddy!” She screams, running to the car, but as the car pulls away, an agent strategically shoots her in the chest twice, Frank’s heart hitting the concrete.
“No!” He cries, shaking violently in his cuffs as he tries to get out. Slamming his head into the window, he doesn’t even crack it.
“No! My baby!” Her father screams, following Frank’s actions. They leave her lying on the concrete, tears falling down his face more and more as he fights harder. Madani draws Frank from the car and drags him kicking, into another building.
“Listen!” She shouts over Frank’s heavy, deafening breathing.
“Madani, let me outta these goddamn handcuffs or I swear on Christ I’ll kill everyone in here. You too.” He growls low and hard, his eyes dark burning into the agent as she stands her ground.
“Frank. Frank, calm down.” She coos as they roll a stretcher in with a body bag. “Frank, her father’s going to a white collar prison, he’ll be safe. Frank. Calm down. I’m gonna take these off but please--”
“The bag. What’s in the bag!?” He screams. As the cuffs come off, his hands wrap around Madani’s throat, squeezing until hse’s gripping at his hands, his knuckles white.
“Frank?” Her soft voice takes his breath from his lungs and he drops Madani on the floor, her gasping just quietly in the background. “Frank I’m right here.” She whispers, rising from her bag like a zombie.
“Darlin’. Baby girl. Holy shit.” He whispers, gripping her and holding her against him.
“Frank, my dad. My dad, he thinks I’m--”
“Your father thinks you are dead, and that’s the safest thing for him to think right now. He’s going to a good prison, where he’ll be safe, but he wanted you as safe as possible, and if he, the Russians, and the Cartel believe that his only daughter is dead you are in no danger.” Madani explains, giving her a soft smile.
“My father thinks his only daughter is dead! He’s being arrested and sent to a prison? Frank?” She looks at him with betrayal twinkling in her eyes and Frank chokes, grunting at the pain. She’d never looked at him like that before. “Did you know?”
“Yeah.” He whispers.
“You knew? You helped them?” She cries, grabbing his shirt and shaking him.
“It isn’t what it looks like. You’re father--”
“Your father needed to be safe, and taking him into a facility where the cartel and Russians can’t get him is as safe as he can be.” Madani tries to explain. Kat turns, a fire in her eyes that Frank might’ve been scared of any other day. He folds his arms around her, constricting like a boa, holding steadfast as she begins to kick and hit, screaming at the top of her lungs for Frank to let go.
“I’m gonna kill you, bitch! I’m gonna kill you!” She screams, kicking and slapping at Frank’s stony arms. “Let go of me!” She cries, pushing his arms away and running for the door.
“No! Don’t go out there!” Madani yells. “There’s a Russian mob and a mexican Cartel being arrested right now with the help of your father’s information and willingness to cooperate.” She stops in her tracks and faces Frank.
“You-you knew about this?” She whispers, shaking her head in disbelief. “I trusted you, Frank.” Shaking hands run through her hair as she stands near the door, unsure of what to do. “Frank, how could you?”
“Hun, I just-I wanted to keep you safe. You’re father asked for safety. This is the best I could offer him. I’m sorry.” He explains.
“Me too.” She grabs the handle of the warehouse and walks out into the daylight, pushing her way through the throng of curious eyes and speculating lips.
“Kathryn?” A voice calls, and when she turns, a gun is jabbed into her side she knows she’s messed up. “If you move or set off that Castle, I’ll kill ya for real this time.” The thick Russian accent gruff and low in her ear.
“Eyes on the bait! Eyes on the bait. Moving southeast with a russian, six feet five inches, short black hair, two tattoos on his hands, can’t make out what they say. Getting into a van now, license plate echo-six-bravo-nine-two-eight.” Frank listens quietly before he grabs the nearest gun and charges out the door.
Eyes scanning the vans, he sees one pull away from the curb and follows it.
“Castle is on the move.” Madani calls into the mic.
Frank sets into a sprint as he follows the van. Getting into the warehouse, he listens to hear her give a scream.
“Tell us about Frank Castle.” He growls, stabbing a small pering knife into her thigh. Crying out, she looks around and something about the empty warehouse didn’t feel empty.
“I don’t know any Frank. And that’s saying something, I’m Italian.” She giggles through harsh breaths as he slaps her. The crack across her face sends Frank into a frenzy of rage, killing every man but the man who stands between him and Kat.
“Pete!” She exclaims, rattling the chair legs on the ground. The Russian man’s eyes fall to where hers are locked he raises his brows, gulping audibly.
“Castle.” He growls, looking to Frank as his eyes narrow and he tries to put on a dangerous front. When his eyes meet Frank’s he finds something feral there, something predatory, and he steps back. Frank raises a gun, shooting the man between the shoulder and heart, dropping him on the ground. Gasp. Gasp. Frank ignores the man as he draws Kat from the chair.
“You okay?” He coos, leaving her with a giggle on her busted lips.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Punisher.” She laughs as she hugs his neck, pressing sweet little kisses to his cut face. Frank Castle, the Punisher, New York’s scariest vigilante, and yet these arms that had strangled, hands that killed were comforting her; they were carressing her body with such comfort that tears fell down her face. “Are you okay?”
“I just--I’m so mad at you, but I love you.” She whispers, sniffling. He sucks in a sharp breath.
“You mean that?” He coos as he walks her to his car. Stiffening, he looks at her rigid form and stops them, looking to her with a grin.
“I--”
“I love you too.” He assures, kissing her forehead as he meets Madani at the a roof top across town. Pulling into a parking garage, he leads her to the roof where Madani waits, a small bag in her hands.
“This is yours.” She hands the bag to Kat with a smiling nod. Skeptical and mad, she snatches the bag and hands it to Frank without a second glance.
“No, darlin’. It’s for you.” He smiles, handing it back. Glaring at the bag, she tugs it back to her and opens it. Drawing out it contents, she reads over them carefully.
‘Marriage Certificate
Katalina Jane Foster and Peter Michael Castiglione
Were married at Wilson City Courthouse
July 15th, 2010’
Among the items in the bag was a social security card with her new name, and a driver’s license, passport, and the deed to a house in Atlanta, Georgia. Frank looks at her with a smile.
“Well what if I didn’t want to marry you?” She asks with a challenging smirk.
“Then I’d have to take this back.” He pops open small, velvety red ring box, exposing a dainty piece of silver jewelry with pretty little blue sapphires in it. With a huge grin on her face, she jumps into his waiting arms and kisses his face. Madani watches on with a smile as Frank loads his new bride into a car and they drive away.
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Big, Ugly SOB
Warning: same as part one. Walking Dead themes, smut, angst, slowburn.
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Part Two
“We gotta find that kid.” He states as they slip into the woods. He twists her shoulder and slams her against a tree, his big hand covering her mouth as he listens for something rustling in the bushes a few yards away. Pressing his hard body against hers, he slowly looks around the tree to see Sophia running towards them. Stepping away from Lottie, a chill running over her at the absence of heat and lust, he reaches out and grabs Sophia’s arm.
“Ssh, darlin’. You and Lottie are gonna go back to the group, okay? And then you’re gonna tell me where Rick is. Is he back that way?” He asks, pointing where she’d come from. She points and Shane disappears, pointing up the hill.
“C’mon hunny. Let’s get you back.” Lottie coos, taking her up the hill and leading her back to Carol. “I gotta go back for Shane.” She coos, waving to Carol before jogging back into the woods.
It’s almost dark when Shane and Rick return, getting into their cars for the night. As Shane heads to the Jeep, he gets there to see it’s empty.
“Hey, where’s Lottie?” He asks softly, looking to the rest of the group.
“She went back into the woods hours ago looking for you.” Carol waves to where Lottie went back into the woods.
“She did what? She hasn’t been back since?” Shane’s heart slams in his chest as he prepares himself for the worse. Rick’s comforting hand rests on Shane’s shoulder.
“Shane. We trained for this. She was second to you in that training. If anyone’s gonna survive out there it’s her.” He assures, patting his shoulder.
“Oh, so a little girl runs off and we search, but Lottie heads back in there and we’re just supposed to wait it out?” He bellows, looking at the group who looks back at him.
“Shane, she’ll be back anytime.” He coos.
“What if-sh-sh-she doesn’t man?” He asks, eyes scanning the blackness of trees in front of him.
“She will for you, buddy.” Rick chuckles.
“I hope so.” He whispers, nervously running his fingers through his hair and scrubbing his hands on his jeans.
Sleep doesn’t come for Shane Walsh as he sits in the Jeep in the dark. As morning comes, light dances through the trees and he hears the crunch of soft steps just inside the treeline. Heart jamming in his chest, he jumps from the Jeep and sprints into the trees.
“Lottie!” He hushes in a whispered shout. Stumbling from her spot behind a tree, she tumbles into the familiar voice and lets his arms wrap around her. “Holy shit.” He coos, hugging her so tight she almost can’t breathe.
“Shane, you waited.” She whispers, exhaustion on her lips.
“Always.” He coos, more to himself than to her and he helps her back to camp. “You’re okay.” He whispers, his hands gripping into her shirt as he whispers to himself.
“Walsh, get off me.” She chuckles, tiredly trying to push him away. He takes a step back, seeing the weird looks from people around camp. Cheeks flaming red, he helps her into his Jeep before he disappears for a moment. Returning, they start up and head to the Center for Disease Control. It takes almost all day, and when they finally get there it seems to be a dead end.
“The camera, it moved.”
“Rick, c’mon man. Don’t do this. Let’s head for Fort Benning.” Shane tries to reason, but it isn’t soon enough and a group of walkers start towards them.
“Finally.” Rick hushes as the door opens. The group heads in and greets the CDC dweller, Doctor Edward Jenner.
 Standing from the table, she finishes her wine and heads to take a shower. Undressing and finding the hot water, she steps into the shower, feeling the scalding hot water flow down and over her body. Heaving a sigh, she takes time to scrub her entire body clean, reveling in the warmth and cleansing that she hadn’t had in months. A heavy knock sounds and then the door opens, clicking closed a second later.
“Walsh, I can hear you.” She calls. The shower curtain gripped in his hand, he shakes off his clothes haphazardly before he climbs in with the bottle of rum in the other hand. “Christ Walsh, what are you doing?” She asks, pushing his away gently. Drunken hands find her bare body as he puts down the bottle. “Walsh.” She states firmly, but she shutters when his lips attach to her neck his hands sliding up her sides as his tongue flicks out to lap at her throat. Groaning against his shoulder, she presses a kiss to his forehead as he sinks shakily to his knees, lapping at her core. Her hands tangle in his dark curls, gripping tightly as his calloused hands knead her upper thighs. Rising to his feet, his lips are on her neck once more, his hands feeling up her ribs and holding her back against him. Putting a foot up on the ledge in the shower, Shane helps her into his arms where he slides his throbbing cock into her without a second thought. Filling her with himself, he gently bounces her on his cock, thrusting up sloppily to meet her hips. Her arms wrapped around his neck as he holds her against the shower wall, rocking into her with sloppy, drunken thrusts.
Butterflies fill her stomach as it turns with anticipation, her orgasm coiling in her stomach as he thrusts faster and harder up into her.
“Shane-Shane. Fuck.” She gasps, fingers twisting into the curls at the nape of neck, gasping into his ear before biting down on his shoulder to stifle the scream of euphoria as she orgasms onto his thick cock. Slipping her off him and onto her knees, she immediately takes his throbbing cock into her mouth and suckling on him, feeling hot ribbons of seed shoot down her throat. Shane draws her to her feet and holds her against him a moment longer before kissing her forehead.
“I love you, Lori.” He coos before getting out. Tears fill her eyes and she chokes on a sob before escaping the bathroom and sprinting to the room she’d offered to share with Walsh. Jumping into bed, she covers up quick and pretends to be asleep by the time Shane stumbles into the room.
“Hey, Duke. You mind if I lay with you?” He mutters with his back to her. “Duke?” He turns this time to face her to find her tucked totally under the covers. Climbing into her bed, he curls up next to her, tucking her under his arm and pulling her against him. His other hand smooths her cheek as she softly snores. He sucks in a quick breath and holds in, playing back the events from the days before.
There she was, coming out of the woods like an enchantress.
He couldn’t describe the feeling that filled him when he saw her.
When she grabbed him in a hug, he felt like he was no longer drowning.
When he’d found out that she left to go after him he thought it might end his world. He felt his heart break. But, when she’d reappeared the next morning like an enchantress of the forest once more, his world was full of color again. He felt his heart shift into gear, as though it had stopped when he couldn’t be with her.
Earlier, in the shower. As he thought more about it, he felt his heart twinge.
“I love you, lori.” He whispered to himself and felt the bile rise in his throat. Springing from the bed and dashing to the toilet, he proceeds to get rid of his dinner and alcohol.
Lottie rises from her bed, shaking away the sleep and crouching next to Shane. He sits on the floor, hands quaking, body overheating, and mind racing.
“Lottie, I’m sorry-”
“Shut it, Walsh.” She nips, rubbing a soothing, cool hand over his back.
“Lottie, what I said in the--”
“Shut up, Walsh.” She growls, pushing him away and rising to her feet. A hand reaches for her foot but she kicks him away and gets into bed.
“Lottie I’m sorry!” He calls, and for a moment, she could almost hear the tears in his throat.
“Walsh. Leave it alone.” She responds, rolling over and falling asleep. When she wakes to the sound of an alarm blaring, she jumps out of her own skin; grabbing for her bag, she finds it gone. Walsh’s things were gone too. Rushing out into the hall as she pulls on her boots, she hears Walsh shouting.
“.…No! Shane! Shane! This is not the way, brother!” Rick’s voice of reason echoes.
“You open this goddamn door! I swear to god I’ll shoot you!” Shane’s angry voice screams.
“Walsh! Chill out!” She calls, grabbing his shoulders and making him face her. His dark, black orbs soften on her.
“The door. It’s locked, Duke. We can’t get out. Doc Jackass says the air is gonna combust. And we’re all gonna die painless. Lottie, we can’t go out like this. Babygirl, we can’t.” He coos, grabbing her hands and kissing her knuckles. Tugging her hands from his, she draws away from him. “Open the goddamn door!” Shane yells, raising a fist at the doctor.
“This is the best I can do, but all the doors upside are locked down. You can’t get out.”
“Let us try, Doc.” Rick crows. The group runs out the door, Lottie jogging at the back, making sure both kids are there. A moment of thought, she turns back to Jackie and Andrea and they seem at peace. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to go out like this. She thinks, her feet stopping her. The group takes a corner and once out of sight, she turns and nods, jogging back into the computer room to sit with Andrea. Dale stays behind, begging Andrea to come with him.
 Shane makes it the lobby, firing a shot gun into the glass window, nothing.
“Rick! I found this in your pants when I was washing them. It might help.” Carol calls, drawing a grenade from her pocket.
“I don’t think a nail file’s gonna do it, Carol.” Shane calls without ever turning around. He only thinks about how he would get him and Lottie out of this mess so he could apologize. He hadn’t realized it until last night, until he was throwing up drunk, that he was in love with her.
“Yes!” Rick cheers, and it gets Shane’s attention. He turns and scans the group quickly and when his eyes don’t find his female officer companion, he chokes audibly.
“Where’s Lottie?” His voice is almost nothing as he speaks. Heart drumming in his ears as he desperately searches for her. “Lottie?” He calls, voice wavering as he heaves for breath, as if he’d been hit by a truck.
“Shane, she went back.” Lori whispers, looking at the top of Carl’s head.
“She-she-she wouldn’t. She was right behind us.” He stammers, pacing back and forth scrounging the faces among him for hers.
“Shane. She’s not here.” His breath hitches as he gasps, grasping at his chest.
“Goddamn it!” He sprints back down the hall without another thought, ignoring Rick and Lori calling for him, Carl screaming his name. He hears the explosion in the distance but doesn’t turn around. He gets into the computer room and his eyes lock on her. “Charlotte Duke! Get over here!” He shouts, jamming a finger to the floor.
“I’m staying, Shane. Go, before time runs out.” She calls matter-of-factly, her smile greeting his horrified expression. He stumbles to her, reaching out with quaking hands to grab her face.
“Don’t do this, Duke. P-please.” He stammers, thumb quaking against her face as he chews bottom lip to keep it from quivering anymore. Leaning forward, she presses their foreheads together for a moment and presses a kiss to his lips, gentle and soft.
“Shane. It’s painless. In seconds I’m gone. I won’t be a walker, or-or a failure. I’ll be gone. Nothing.” A tear trips down his cheek and he grabs her arms and draws her over his shoulder.
“You’re everything to someone, okay? I can’t let you do that. I won’t have your blood on my hands.” He barks as he carries her kicking and screaming down the halls, her fists beating tirelessly on his back.
“Shane Dawson Walsh! Put me down! This isn’t your choice!” She shrieks, shoving to get away. Tripping him, he tumbles and she gets away, sprinting down the hall again. Walsh comes outta nowhere, grabbing her and pile driving her into a wall.
“Quit fighting me.” He growls under his breath, heaving for air.
“No.” She pushes at him as he tosses her out the window, following after her.
“I don’t expect a thank you, Duke.” He huffs as she runs away from him. As she gets to the motorhome, Shane close behind, he starts to say something; but she draws back a fist and slams it into his jaw, knocking him backwards. Staggering back, he catches his footing and storms towards her.
“Why in the holiest of fucks would I thank you, Walsh? I was ready to go, ready to be done with this ugly, mad shit world and you can’t leave me be. You gotta keep saving me. Let it be, Walsh. I can’t stand you. You in love with Lori? Be in love, but quit dragging me along like I’m some goddamn trophy!” She shrieks, fists relentlessly pounding into his chest. “Even after you got into my shower and had sex with me, you said ‘I love you L-’” He claps a hand over her mouth to shut her up.
“I said I was sorry. Okay? I was slurring my words and I was drunk. Alright? I’m goddamn sorry.”
“That was my first time, Walsh. So please excuse me if I seem to not want to be best friends with you.”
“Do you even know why I went back in for you?” He asks, reaching for a hand.
“Because I’m in love with you! Okay? From the first day you came through those goddamn woods like some kind of fairy, I was gone. I couldn’t think of anything but you. I’d take every ngiht watch I could because I never wanted a single bad thing to happen to you. When you stupidly ran back into those woods after me, and I thought I lost you, I didn’t sleep all night. When I saw you again, it-it’s like I could finally breathe again. I didn’t even know it then, but I was in love with you. When I turned back at the lobby and I didn’t see you, I knew in that moment I would walk back and sit with you, even if you didn’t leave. I would die with you, because I can’t stand the thought of being without you now. When you find someone in this ugly world, you hold onto ‘em because they’re all you got! I’d kill anyone and anything to keep you safe. It wouldn’t matter the president or walker alike, I’d kill ‘em to keep you alive. Do you understand me? I fuckin’ love you.” He breathes, staring at her so intently, biting his bottom lip and clenching his fists at his sides.
“You big ugly son-of-a-bitch. I love you.” She sighs, jumping into his arms and pressing a passionate kiss to his lips.
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kay, but this scene made me wanna cry. @bebravesunflower
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Fifteen Minutes of Fame #2: Shane Walsh
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Shane Walsh, the meanest man in your group, thanks especially to Lori. She used him so often that you hated even being around them. She would string him along and slice the string, leaving him confused and hurt. When Shane got that way he would put up walls and angry fronts like a storm before a rainbow.
“Hey Walsh.”
“Shut up.” He grumbles, never looking at you as he stomps passed to his tent.
“What’s wrong now?” You ask, quick to follow behind him.
“Nothing.”
“Sure, I believe that; not.” You snide. Twisting to face you, you can see the anger, the fear, and the confusion swirling in his dark eyes like small hurricanes.
“Nothing is wrong. Okay?” You back up and turn, walking away. Sniffing out Lori by her whore stench she radiated, you find her in her tent.
“…we gotta stay away from Shane for a little while okay? He doesn’t feel—“
“Oh he doesn’t? Maybe it’s because you can’t decide whether you want to fuck him or give him the cold shoulder! You can’t stand anyone else having a chance at him, but you just treat him like a dog you like sometimes. You make me sick, you vixen bitch. I hope you catch incurable diseases.” You spit at the ground by her feet, glaring at her. She stands opposite of you in disbelief, in sickening shock and disgust.
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself talking to a woman like that in front of her son.”
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself first. For trying to share Carl like a custody battle and then changing your mind in the next hour because Shane looked at you the wrong way. You’re a real piece of work, lady.” You rage, scoffing in her face before stalking away. Finding the edge of the quarry lake, you perch on a stone and get comfortable, legs crossed beneath you, watching the water ripple slowly.
“Hey.” Shane’s low drawl calls to you from a little ways away.
“Listen, I don’t need any bullshit from you. Okay?” You nip, never looking back at him.
“I wanted to say thanks.”
“That’s great. Go thank someone else.” You mutter, looking at the lone walker stumbling across the road almost a mile away.
“Hey, thank you.” He coos, standing in front of you and kneeling on the gravel.
“Sure.” You shrug, looking at the vast emptiness around you; anything but him.
“Hey, for a girl who doesn’t like me, that was pretty nice.” He chuckles, taking your cheeks in his palms and making you look at him. “I like you, darlin’.” He whispers. Leaning in, a breath away, your lips connect in a warm, sweet, electrifying kiss.
“I like you too, Walsh.” You giggle breathily.
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Big, Ugly SOB
Warning: typical Walking Dead themes, smut, probably other stuff, be advised.
SHANE BABIES! THIS ONE”S FOR YOU! Slow burn, angsty, love, smut, it’s all here gals! Please like, reblog, and comment! I’d love to hear from all of you! 
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Part One!
She grabs her pistol and heads out the door of the small shed and does a perimeter sweep before shutting the door. With a deep breath, she starts towards the high ridge. Heaving a sigh, she turns around and writes a note for anyone who may find her.
‘Headed to the ridge. Higher vantage point. Curious about Atlanta but not sure I’ll go.
If you need supplies there’s a day’s worth of jerky and some supplies in here.
Best of Luck’
She truly hoped that she’d find someone she knew. As a patrol officer of King County, she hadn’t run into a single other officer that she knew. Though, she didn’t take the main roads, as she knew the cost.
Hiking up the ridge through the woods, she hears soft talking and the voice strikes her deep in her soul. She knows that voice. The deep southern voice talking low just out of eyesight.
“Excuse me? I don’t mean to alarm you but I’m just looking to join a group--You are one big, ugly, dumb son-of-a-bitch.” There was the owner of the voice. Snorting, she quickly covers her mouth as she sinks to the ground cackling under her hands. Shane’s eyes glance to the old man next to him and back to her as she sits on the ground staring at him with a look of wonder as tears roll down her face.
“Officer Duke?” He hushes as a grin sweeps across his face. Pushing passed the old man, he grabs her hands and pulls her to her feet.
“It’s Lottie. C’mon Walsh.” She chuckles, reaching out and pulling him into a warm embrace.
“It’s Shane, silly gal. I can’t believe it. Look at you. Ugly and big, yes baby girl that’s me.” He croons, holding her arms out wide to look her over. Shaking his head with a chuckle, he turns to the old man and waves him over. “This is Lottie. She was one of the Sheriff’s Deputies like me. Lottie, this is Dale. Dale, Charlotte. C’mon Duke, this way.” He crows, hooking arms with her and dragging her along. As they break into a small clearing, she finds aa small group of people, including Lori and Carl.
“Hey, where’s Rick?” She asks, looking to Shane. His face sombers and he waves her to him.
“He’s gone.” He whispers, looking at Lori with a longing she could only describe as a silent plea of a lover. With a single blink the look is vanished from his face and he pats Lottie on the head. “Come say hi.”
“Lori, Carl, you two look so tired.” She coos as Lori’s face lights up. A blonde across the way eyes her with a disapproving look, but a younger blonde bounds up to Lottie with a grin and a hand shoved out to greet her.
“Hi, I’m Amy. The crabby one is my sister Andrea. That’s Carol and Sophia, Ed’s away in the tent. He’s not much fun. That one is Daryl, he’s a loner. And that’s T-Dog.” In order, Lottie’s eyes meet every face she’s introduced to, and most stick out a hand. Except for the crossbow weilding man, Daryl, she nods confidently to herself.
“I’m Lottie.” She waves, ducking over to Shane and hides behind him.
“Darlin’ I’m gonna head over here and get some water. Find yerself somethin’ to eat and get comfy. You can share my tent. Go get situated. Lori’ll get you acquainted around.” He waves Lori over and Lottie watches the exchange with wide eyes as Shane’s drink in Rick’s wife.
“Thanks Walsh.” She smiles awkwardly before disappearing into Shane’s tent. Spending her first day in the tent with Walsh, she puts her bags in the corner and rolls out her makeshift blanket, made of a couple sweatshirts and tee shirts she had found. Shane steps into the tent and sees her sitting in the corner and his eyes drift to the less than adequate bedding and he frowns.
“Hey, tell you what. I’ll take first shift on watch tonight and you can sleep in my sleeping bag, on the foam pad. It’s better than the rocky ground, Duke.” He holds up a hand to silence her and she feels her face heat up.
“Jesus Christ, I can’t do that--”
“I wasn’t asking. I’m telling you. I’m on watch first tonight, so you have to keep my sleeping bag warm. If not, I’ll--”
“Have Lori do it?” She whispers, and sees it strike a nerve on Shane’s face.
“You shut your mouth about that. Okay? Ain’t nothin’ goin’ on.” He barks, jamming a sturdy finger into her chest plate.
“Sure. I’d be that mad if there was nothing going on too. Rick’s dead, Walsh. Ain’t no shame in keepin’ his wife and son safe. You done good so far.” She assures, laying on her blanket and curling up against her bag.
“Hey baby girl. I said-” he leans down and hoists her up, putting her on his sleeping bag. “-to use this damn thing.” He croons, giving her head a soft pat before taking his gun and stepping out of the tent.
 Morning comes and she slips from Shane’s tent and out into the daylight. For only a second, it almost felt like the summer you went camping with the boys on the lake three years ago. Carl was too little so Lori had stayed home and it had just been Lottie, Rick, Shane, and Leon Basset, another man she hadn’t seen since the world ended.
“Mornin’ babygirl.” He croons, patting her shoulder as she walks up to the group of people sitting in chairs in a circle, finding a seat next to her and Lori.
“Mornin’ ugly.” She groans, pushing his hand up her shoulder to her neck where the kink is. Softly, he rubs the knot from her neck without a word.
“Darlin’ get you somethin’ to eat. Lori, can you grab her a plate?” He croons, patting Lori’s knee. She gives Lottie a half-assed mad look before rising and grabbing a plate with eggs and toast. Placing it into Lottie’s lap, cshe huffs under her breath, mumbling something.
“I’m sorry, what?” Lottie asks, looking at Lori.
“Not a damn thing.” She barks, giving Shane a dark look before heading into her own tent a little ways away.
“Yo, Duke. Over here. You take watch up top, I’ll be out and about. You see walkers, more than two, you give me or Daryl a heads up. Okay? And if you see more than that, give us more than a heads up. Okay?” He briefs her like they’re back on the force before leading her up to the look out atop the RV.
“Okay, I’ll holler if I see a bunch. Is someone supposed to take over for me later?” She asks as Shane hands over the binoculars.
“Yeah, couple hours Daryl will be up. Glenn and a few others went on a raid this morning, so when they get back they’ll do a round of watch. When your watch is over come find me.” He disappears down the ladder and she watches through Shane’s binoculars as Shane himself and Lori slip away into the woods out of the line of sight.
Once they reappear, Lori’s clothes are disheveled and Shane’s licking his lips with a prideful smirk on his full lips. Sucking in a breath, Lottie watches a moment longer as Shane takes a moment to tuck his shirt back in and lick his lips once more. Reaching up, his fingers sift through his jet black, fluffy curls and gives Lori--what he thought was-- a sneaky wink. Lottie watches the horizon and sees a white refrigerator truck barreling towards their camp and a red Charger wailing through the quarry, echoing off the walls. First the car comes to a stop and Shane charges them, yanking the relay out that belongs to the horn. Glenn steps out, jittery with excitement.
“You guys, this new guy absolutely saved our asses.”
“Glenn this group is big enough. Quit taking in strays.” Shane hushes.
“But your girlfriend isn’t one? Sorry, listen man. This guy was awesome, some kind of police uniform, not sure. One second,” the small Asian man sprints to the truck and when the binoculars land on the driver, she nearly falls off the RV.
“Holy shit.” She whispers, losing her footing a second time and tumbling over the edge. As she lands on the ground next to Dale, Shane’s eyes drop to her and he lands in the dirt next to her.
“Damn darlin’. New guy that hot?” He chuckles, helping her to her feet and dusting her off. With a quick once over, he finds nothing broken or busted, so he proceeds out to greet the new guy but stops dead in his tracks. Rick. Holy shit.
“Lori? Carl!” He shouts, falling to his knees as he hugs his family. Her eyes land on Shane in utter shock and he just releases the breath he’d been holding. “Duke. Shane.” He drags the two officers into a warm hug and she and Shane reciprocate.
  As night falls, she steps into the tent with Shane’s sleeping form and carefully steps over him. Laying down on her blanket, she hears some rustling around behind them, but she goes to sleep. Rolling over, she finds an empty space where Shane was. More rustling. A groan. In her groggy sleep, she ignores the sounds outside and grabs Shane’s pillow.
“Shane?” She asks, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Standing and stepping out the tent, she stretches backwards and is grabbed from behind. “Walsh, knock it off-oh shit.” She gives a whine and tries to run away. The walker tries to bite at her ankles, grabbing her pant legs. “Shane! Shane!” She screams , grabbing for anything on the ground to stab the ugly monster, but she grabs for the only thing near her. A stick. Kicking with her foot and knocking the diseased thing off her, she stabs a stick through his leg. Skittering to her feet she backs into something behind her. Another walker grabs her and she shrieks, this time Shane twists around and fires a rifle into her shoulder, killing the walker. He grabs her up and hoists her over a shoulder.
“Did it bite you? Baby girl?” His shouts become foggy and distant as she floats into unconsciousness. “No! C’mon darlin’. Rick! Rick come over here! Someone please!” His desperate cries echo through the camp as Carol grabs Lottie and carries her to the RV.
“Check for bites first.” Dale barks, jabbing at Lottie with the barrel of his gun.
 Early morning rises and she whispers to Shane, who’s sitting next to her, his hand on her arm and head on his arms.
“Shane, Walsh.” He jerks awake and stands erect.
“Mornin’.” He whispers, starting for the door.
“Where you going?” She asks, giving him a soft smile.
“I was just checking on you. I gotta tell the others you’re awake.” He gruffs, heading back to the door.
“Shane.” He stops again, searching her face for something. He walks back to her and leans down, taking her hand into his. “I saw you sleeping.” She whispers, gripping his hand.
“Ya, so I fell asleep there. What of it?” He barks, shifting from foot to foot.
“You were worried, weren’t you?” She coos, smirking at him.
“No. I knew you’d be fine.” He assures, patting her hand.
“Really? That doesn’t really seem accurate, Walsh.”
“Leave it alone.” He grumbles, thumping lightly down the stairs and out the door.
 A few hours later, she hears a couple soft female voices talking about her. “…..she’s just lucky Shane’s got a raging hard on for her…”
“.….she hasn’t lifted a finger here yet…”
“.…got attacked and Walsh left the group to save her. Such bullshit…”
“Amy probably wouldn’t be dead if it weren’t for that girl..-”
She steps out of the RV, groaning in pain with every step. Shane rushes her, reaching out to take her elbow, only to be shoved away weakly.
“Babygirl--”
“No Walsh. No more. I can’t deal with this. These bitches over here, whom I can hear claerly in there by the way! Won’t quit bitching about what I haven’t done. So I’ll just be over here.” She barks, pushing Shane away again. He huffs, watching from afar as she staggers over to the bench and grabs the legs of a walker. Grunting, tears running down her face, she sees Glenn grab the shoulders, but when his eyes meet hers he drops it immediately.
“Hey, maybe you should just sit down--”
“No. I’m gonna help. Grab the other goddamn end and lift. With your knees. Jesus christ.” She hoists the body up and carries it across the field. As they sit the body on the ground, her arms quaking, she drops the feet and crumbles to the dirt beneath her.
“Goddamn it.” Shane skids to her side, dust clouding around them as his hands grab her arms. “I just want you to relax. C’mon babygirl. Let me help you--”
“Get away! I can do it on my own!” She screams, shoving him away. “Just please, leave me here, Shane.” She shoves him once more and rises to his feet, heading over to Carol, Andrea, and the hispanic woman.
“You guys better keep your traps shut. She was shot and she was injured, and here you are, not doin’ a goddamn thing, bitchin’ about an injured officer who can’t lift anything. Kettle callin’ the pot black shit now, isn’t it? Leave her out of this shit.”
The next morning the group gets up and ready to leave, Shane leading her to his Jeep.
“Darlin’ get in.” He buckles her seat belt without a second thought.
“Quit treating me like your girlfriend, Walsh.” She mutters, pushing on his shoulder.
“I’m not.” He nips, grabbing her arm and throwing it away from him.
“Oh really? Were you gonna go around and buckle in every woman out there?” She barks back, raising a brow at him.
“Well no--I’m just--”
“You just suddenlt have this urge to keep me safe from harm? Like my goddamn boyfriend? You’re not Walsh, okay? So just quit. I can do for myself.” She drives, letting him head out behind everyone else.
“Okay, babygirl. I’m sorry. It’s just--when I thought Rick was dead, it hurt. Right? A-a-a-and when I saw you come through that brush like an angel, I just-hell, you almost had my ugly ass crying. I was just happy to see you.” He makes conversation while he’s driving. They get to the highway and slow to a crawl. The motorhome stops up ahead and all the others in the group get out to inspect.
As they ravage the hundreds of cars, like time stopped, they find lots of useful things.
“Bet ya’ll ain’t never wanted water so bad.” Shane chuckles, popping the cap on a waterjug and soaking himself. She watches on, laughing to herself as Shane bathes in it. His eyes land on her, grabbing her arms and pulling her to the truck, popping another cap and gently pulling the rag she’d tied up her hair with and shook her curls under the water. “Ooh! Babygirl, you look so good with those wet curly locks!” He cheers, giving her a sopping wet hug.
“Walkers!” The screech is enough to freeze her in her tracks.
“Everybody under the cars.” Rick’s gentle voice carries and Shane grabs her hand, pulling her under a box truck.
“Walsh, look. I can lead them away--”
“Ssh. Shut up. Do you remember that shoot out with me, Rick, and you? And you said that we wouldn’t make it out, and what did ol’ Shane do?” He asks, patting her arm. They lay on the hot concrete under a box truck, the various sharp stones digging into her knees and arm.
“You got us out.”
“And you didn’t think I could did ya? But I did, babygirl. So trust me again. C’mon, darlin’. You just roll your front against my back as tight as you can, okay? We’ll make it again. Trust me. Now ssh. I see a bunch a’ feet movin’. Don’t make a goddamn sound, babygirl.” He whispers, breathing out as he feels her huddle as tight as she can against his back. “I got ya baby. I got ya.” He coos almost as a breath, trying to be silent. “Lemme have your hand.” He whispers, her hand snaking over his ribs and grabs his open hand, squeezing. “Take a deep breath, let it out slow. Show time.” Her mouth bites into his shoulder, he shivers and squeezes her hand tighter. One of her legs slips over his and she’s almost melded into him as one person.
When the horde finally works through, Shane looks over his shoulder to find her asleep against him. Gently shaking her, as she awakes, and looks confused. For a moment, she looks like a glorious sunny day sitting by the lake under a shade tree after a long nap under the summer sun.
“You look like you had a good nap.” He chuckles, rolling to face her, still on the ground and their noses almost touch. “Wow, last time we were this close you remember what we were doing?”
“Yeah,” she laughs, pushing awkwardly at his shoulders. “I think it was some stupid party and we were playing seven minutes in heaven.”
“Yeah, and I got to second base with Haley Duvall that day. You were a prude though. You shut down so fast, even when I tried to score.” He chuckles, leaning dangerously close to press his dry lips gently to her cheek.
“I did, Walsh. Then we went from cops to surviving this ugly ass world now.” She crows, hearing a blood curdling scream. It draws them both from this happy cocoon they were in, and she scrambles from under the truck.
“Hey, also?” He leans so close his voice is but a whisper of hot air over her neck. “Don’t ever bite my shoulder like that again unless you plan to finish what you start.”
“Shane I--” He gives her a dark smirk and a wink, making her body tingle.
“What was that?” He asks as he gaits over to the group.
“It was Sophia. She ran off, Shane. Rick went after her.” He grumbles, grabbing Lottie’s hand and heads for the woods.
“We gotta find that kid.” He states as they slip into the woods.
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Sweet Joey Teague
short lil fanfic from my brain about Joe Teague’s military experience. He falls in love with his best friend’s sister.
Trigger Warnings: mentions of war (very very little)
Sweet Joey Teague, your brother’s best friend.
Giving a knock at the door, you grab your bat before heading to the door. Your brother had gotten into trouble with the mob. Peeking through the peephole, you see Joe Teague.
“Joey, what can I do for ya?” You ask, giving him a sweet smile.
“Nothin’ much, doll. Is Jimmy around?” He asks, looking passed you. Sighing softly, you let him pass you.
“Yeah, in the kitchen.” He slips passed you and heads into the kitchen. As you try to step behind him, Joe steps to your left and you duck right, only for Joe to duck right. His elbow hits the left side of the door jam and his hip hits the right, Jimmy and Joey chuckling.
“C’mon Joe, let me through!” You whine pushing on his shoulder.
“Aw, just go through, what’s the matter?” He laughs, standing up and leaning to the right. “I’ll let ya through. C’mon.” He moves to the right completely. As you go to get by, Joe jerks forward and lays against you, he and your brother cackling now.
“Oh Joey Teague! You big bully!” You cry, cheeks flaming as you smack his chest.
“Aw, what’s wrong doll? You upset? You don’t like me do ya?” He plays, reaching a strong arm across your face and resting it on the door jam.
“No, you big lug. Go away. Don’t you and Jimmy have girls chase?” He scoffs, pushing off the doorjam and heading in to sit down. Fixing your skirt, you head to the kitchen.
“We don’t chase girls, they chase us.” Jimmy and Joey laugh together before Joey’s face gets rather stormy. “Jimmy, are we gonna tell her?” He asks, looking to you.
“Tell me what?” You ask, looking between your brother Jimmy and Joey.
“Joe, dammit. I was gonna tell her tomorrow.” He coos, his eyes digging into Joey.
“Tell me what?”
“Sit down, dollface.” He offers, waving to a chair.
“James Bert, you tell me this instant. Or I’ll beat it out of Joey.” She pushes Joe’s shoulders, tears filling your eyes. Blindly, you start to punch Joe weakly in the chest.
“Doll-”
“Don’t doll me, the only major thing happening is that all those troops send off tomorrow. Mary Jane asked me to go with her to see her brother off.” She explains. “So whatever you two idiots are up too is gonna have wait.” She nips, but when Joe’s expression meets her unimpressed face, tears instantly fill her eyes again and he reaches out to touch her hand.
“Doll, me and Joe joined the army.” Her brother Jimmy finally pipes up when he sees that Joe has gone silent, staring into your eyes. Saying sorry without a word.
“You two morons are gonna get yourself killed! I can’t be by myself. Joe, tell Jimmy I can’t be left alone. I’m only seventeen.” She whispers, waiting for someone to explain it to you.
“You’re almost a woman, and me and Joe already signed up. This is the big leagues, bunny.” You brother calling you by your mother’s nickname for you.
“I don’t care. Joe, c’mon. Jimmy won’t listen to me, but you will. You always do. Please Joey.” You grab both his hands and pull them to you, almost sitting in his lap. Tears pour down your face, Joe trying to avoid the streams that could sway his mind.
“Doll, I’m sorry. It’s a done deal. Now quit the tears. Ya know we can’t stand em.” He waves to Jimmy, tugging his hands from your grip.
“I know, I want you to change your mind.” You sob, reaching for your brother and letting him hug you tight. It was unspoken between Joey and Jimmy, that Joe’s love for you was kept as a secret. Your brother didn’t want him dating you unless you reciprocated the feelings, and you’d have to figure those on your own. Letting go of Jimmy, you turn and face Joe, his heart slamming in his chest as you look up at him with those big, beautiful eyes. His breath caught and went silent, afraid to say the wrong thing.
“Joey.” You whisper, gripping him in a hug nice and tight.
“Doll, it’s okay. I just-it’s alright. No sense in cryin’ now. Cry tomorrow.” He assures, rubbing circles into your back.
      Tomorrow comes all too quick as the three stand at the train station with what looked like thousands of other people. You hug Jimmy first, kissing his cheek as he separates from you and gets aboard the train. Joe steps up next, his dark chocolate eyes sad as they meet yours.
“Joey, please don’t.” You whisper, arms above your head as you grip his neck tight. His arms circle your waist as you hug tight to him. Joe Teague is your first love, though you’d never tell him that. He wouldn’t want you.
“Doll, I love you. Ya know that? I’ll come back. Jimmy will come back. It’ll be okay.” He whispers.
“You love me?” You choke through a sob, grabbing the collar of his shirt. “You pick now to tell me you love me? Jesus Christ Joe, excellent timing! Ugh, you make me so mad. You could have waited. You could have never told me. But now? When you and my brother are being shipped off to a wasteland with a gun and some bread?” You shout. His arms envelope you in a warm cocoon of heat and love.
“I meant, from your brother’s best friend, Joey Teague, I love you.” He whispers, letting your face turn cherry red.
“I love you too, Joey Teague. Please be safe.” You whisper, kissing his cheek. As you pull away, you see Joe’s cheeks tinge red.
“I’ll come home.” He assures, kissing your cheek before climbing onto the train.
“Joe! Jimmy! Please don’t go!” You scream, chasing the car as it pulls away. Jimmy’s arm wraps around Joe’s shoulders, hugging him haphazardly, as if to encourage him to keep himself together.
 Two long years pass, and a knock sounds at the door.
You stand up and get to the door, as it swings open your eyes land on a familiar face that makes tears fall down your face.
“Joey?” You whisper, looking to him as his eyes drink you in.
“Hey doll.”
“Where’s Jimmy?” You ask, wobbling onto your tip toes to see around him.
“Doll, they didn’t come by?” He asks, looking to you with a broken heart in his eyes. Grabbing your hand, he kisses your knuckles. “Doll, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.” You collapse in his arms, letting him grip you against his strong, war-beaten body.
“Joe-Joey? Are you okay though?” You sniffle, fists gripping handfuls of his jacket sleeves.
“Yeah, yeah I’m okay.” He whispers, letting you pull him inside and to the couch.
“Please. Sit. C’mon Joe. Sit down. I’ll get you something to eat.” As you start towards the kitchen, Joe grabs your hand and pulls you into his lap.
“Please don’t leave. Just sit here a minute. I need--” He doesn’t know what to say, how to act, but you let him draw you in, hugging you tightly against him.
“It’s okay to cry Joe.” You whisper. Your words are enough to break the dam and you hear a soft sob. “I love you, Joey, as my brother’s sister.” You giggle softly, and he chuckles in your arms.
“I love you too, doll. Not as your brother’s best friend, but as Joey Teague, sitting in front of you.” He smiles, a hand reaching up and cupping your cheek. “I love you doll.” He whispers, leaning forward gently and pressing a warm, needy kiss to your lips.
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Uhm hi! If anyone makes Jon Gifs I frikkin NEED a gif set of Jon Bernthal touching his nose subconsciously because it’s so cute and precious😭😭❤️ that is all😭
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