#kastle drabbles

[ninzied]

frank castle’s love language

In retrospect, the signs were there.

Frank brings coffee on late office nights. There’s a cup for Foggy too, but Foggy’s doesn’t come with two sugars and extra cream on the side.

On stakeouts, Foggy packs sandwiches—Karen neglects things like food when knee-deep in a case, but lately—

“I ate at home,” she says, so breezily Foggy doesn’t overthink it till later.

Then, when a rogue bicyclist crosses their path:

Before Foggy can blink, Karen’s pulled back, by—Foggy does blink, now—nothing more than Frank Castle’s finger, tugging her to him by her waistband.

And that small touch tells Foggy everything.

[woahpip]

glowing: for @kastleexchange's come what may event

“You look different,” Foggy tells her. 

Karen’s not sure how. The blouse she has on was bought years ago and somehow survived the multiple moves and tragic events that made up her life. It was dark blue, made out of an eyelet embroidered fabric so you could see a little glimpse of her skin underneath. It was the perfect warm day shirt while still being long sleeved and professional. It was dark, so there were no Chinese food stains or blood spatters.

“I’ve had this shirt,” is all she says.

“No.” Foggy’s not letting this go. “That’s not it. It’s you. It’s your face.”

“My face?”

“It’s bright. You look backlit like a girl in a movie, except it’s your smile.”

“Like I’m all teeth?”

He’s exasperated with her now; sighs like she’s taking him on a walk and won’t let him walk, but they were talking about this because of him!

“No, Karen. Like you’re…like you’re really, really happy.”

“Oh,” is all she says back.

Foggy’s face is blank, like it is when he’s working out a problem, creating an argument in his brain to relay it to her and Matt. They’re still in the deli, the smell of ham also having to be ignored when he needs everything around him to be quiet. It’s his thinking through the ham face.

“I saw something in the news the other day. Short article. Buried in the back pages.”

“You know that’s where news goes to die, Foggy,” Karen tells him.

He tilts his head. “And I know you know sometimes that’s where the best news is. Anyway. I just saw some Irish mob people were found dead, weird situation. Police have no idea what happened, just that it was bloody.”

There’s the rub. There’s why he’s holding his face still, the stillest thing in New York.

“I work with you and Matt, not for the paper anymore. Not sure what you’re getting at.”

“Why are you lying, Karen? I know he’s back in town.”

There’s no point in keeping up the lie; he knows.

“More observant than you thought I was, right?” he says when she doesn’t fess up right away.

“No, Foggy. I know you’re smart. I watch it in action everyday. I just didn’t want to say anything. It’s my life.”

Besides, she only saw Frank once (another drop in on the street, another quick exchange of information, a whispered see you later, Karen that shouldn’t have been enough to have her glowing enough everyone can tell that something fundamental has shifted in her life.

“He’s a killer, Karen,” Foggy says. He picks up his paperwork and leaves the office, their shared table in the deli where they break bread everyday, share their lives again in a way they’d once lost.

Would this be their downfall, again? Not Matt Murdock and his tendency to save the world first, other obligations second, but her connection to a man who has killed, yes…but who’s also saved her life. Multiple times.

“Sorry, Foggy,” she whispers to the air. 

The I’m not forgetting him part stays silent.

[starkholme]

The funny thing is that no one mentions the fact that DAW likes to be the "see good in all people" sunshine/powerful second wife of a grumpy guy who lost everything/keeps looking for revenge

LIKE NO ONE MENTIONS ????

[kanerallels]

For the Christmas Dabbles-

Kastle (platonic or romantic) and I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day.

You are the first ask I got for this and also the most genius this is the best prompt I've ever read. Thanks so much for the ask!!

“You really believe in all that?” Frank glanced at her sideways. She wore a stunning green dress, her hair shimmering in the moonlight, and he was finding it very hard to stop looking at her.

“Believe in what?”

“You know. The usual Christmas crap. Peace on Earth.”

Karen was silent, staring out at the cold dark city. Frank could smell snow in the air— it was only a matter of time before it started to come down. “Maybe not the way most people do,” she said finally. “I’m hardly an idealist— you know that.”

He did. He’d seen her face too many things not to.

“But,” she continued, and now she looked at him, and he couldn’t take his eyes of hers, blue filling his gaze. “I think there’s goodness in the world. And peace. Maybe it’s just a little harder to find.”

“You think we can find it, then?”

“Yeah,” she said, and he felt her hand catch his, their fingers locking together. “I think we can.”

Christmas fic ask game!

(also I've started posting last year's fics on AO3, here's the link!)

[darlingshane]

Summary: Karen has sworn to never date anyone in the workplace ever again, but it's a rule that she might need to break when she starts her new job at Castle Motors as a marketing consultant.

CW: au - romantic comedy, fluff, crack, slow burn, friendship, drinking, workplace relationships, eventual romance, happy ending, frank and maria are divorced but have a good relationship. (and marketing, a lot of marketing.)

Word Count: 12,1k (first 10 chapters only)

A/N: This is based on a drabble I wrote a few years ago of the same title here (it was kind of a mess so don't check it out, just read this one instead). I always wanted to turn it into a longer fic. I'm working on the last couple of chapters, and it'll be done soon. You won't have to wait long to see those posted.

— Links: AO3 // Kastle Masterlist.

Excerpt from my favorite chapter (7):

When Karen had pitched the idea of putting Frank in front of the camera, she knew it was a gamble. Frank was the kind of CEO who preferred to stay behind the scenes, letting his work and the company speak for itself. But Karen was convinced that showcasing Frank as the face of the company would resonate with the public, making Castle Motors not just a brand, but a brand with a story and a leader people could trust.

Frank, however, had been less than enthusiastic. “Karen, my face isn’t exactly camera-friendly,” he had said with a wry smile. “Broken nose, giant head, satellite ears…”

“Stop it, you look like a young De Niro.” Karen chuckled but persisted, knowing that his rough-around-the-edges appearance and straightforward personality were precisely what would make him relatable and authentic. People didn’t need another polished, cookie-cutter CEO—they needed someone real.

Now, as she watched Frank fidget with the collar of his suit, Karen could tell he was out of his element. He’d been through makeup, his hair was slicked back, and the tailored suit, while well-fitted, seemed to restrict him. He looked like a man wearing someone else’s skin.

She approached him, her eyes scanning the nervous energy in his posture. “You okay?” she asked softly.

Frank sighed, glancing around at the crew bustling about. “This just isn’t me, Karen. I don’t feel right in this get-up.”

Karen smiled, understanding his discomfort. “You don’t have to be someone else, Frank. That’s not what this is about. We want people to see you—the real Frank Castle. Not some polished version.”

She reached out, tugging gently at the lapels of his suit jacket. “What if we lose the jacket and tie? Maybe unbutton a couple of buttons, get you back to feeling like yourself?”

Frank hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, that might help.”

He slipped off the jacket, draping it over a nearby chair, and loosened his tie before pulling it off completely. Karen stepped closer, reaching up to unbutton the top two buttons of his dress shirt. As she did, she noticed how his broad chest and strong shoulders seemed to relax with the simple act.

— You can read the rest on AO3.

[outer-edges]

20 questions for fic writers

thank u for the tag @freetobeyouandmichi-me

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

19

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

91k

wow didn’t realize id published so little. this is purely because i am a miserly old man who hoards fics. i have probably twenty finished lucifer fics sitting in my drive. and no one will ever get to see them 💙

3. What fandoms do you write for?

currently? really none. in the past? mainly miraculous ladybug, lucifer, carry on (simon snow) & the last of us

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

it’s how we show love - tlou

game? im not playing any games (unless you count the ones i play with beatrice) - lucifer

sharing is caring - tlou

we’re not dating - lucifer

a police consultant, a sandwich, a neatly sliced apple, and a cup of tea - lucifer

im linking all of those but be warned the lucifer ones are SOOOOOOOO teenage mattie cringe i was like a sophomore in high school when i wrote those.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

YES!!?!?!?!?!!!

i love comments. im actually kissing all of my commenters on the virtual mouth. mwah. if I’m normal in a comment reply just know I’m actually giggling and kicking my feet.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

EASILY gotta be someone better bc it’s just a canon compliant little drabble from lucifer 3x21 (iykyk)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

honestly all of them pretty much have happy endings??? i think happiest is gotta be meet me at our spot because that’s overall the fluffiest fic I’ve ever posted

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i dont think I’ve received anything within driving distance of hate which i am very grateful for. but i also know it’s because my fics reach very little people so it’s a little hard to get hate if haters aren’t seeing ur fics

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i do not

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

that I’ve published?? no. have I EVER written a crossover? a million times yes. every fandom I’ve ever written for has been crossed over with each other in every permutation. favorite one has to be aos x lucifer. the craziest one is probs the harley quinn x icarly one i plotted out (it’s called iHarley and i started it for a writing even but never finished).

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

no because much like the hate thing it is a little hard to get hate when you’re unknown. there are perks to it

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

no

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no but omg I would LOVE to

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

dude this is too hard to choose from. either kastle or deckerstar

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

will i be shot if i say the time loop 🫣

16. What are your writing strengths?

i think it’s dialogue? i mean what does the audience say?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

ummmm. does finishing things count 💀

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I haven’t ever really tackled it before because I only speak english with a minimal command over spanish but i have included a couple words of spanish here or there in tlou fic! it is just very Daunting

19. First fandom you wrote for?

pretty little liars!!! i ran an instagram account with like 1000 followers where I posted fics in the comments at the ripe age of nine 💙

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

THIS IS SO HARD ITS LIKE ASKING ME TO CHOOSE A FAVORITE KID—

it’s the daisycoulson one

(honorable mention for the miller fam vacation 💙)

and honestly if u see this and want to do it consider urself tagged i am too lazy to tag people right now sorryyyyy

[bunisher]

here’s a reminder that my asks are open if you would like to send me a prompt for writing a drabble/mini fic (<1k)! i have not done them before, but want to give it a go.

submission rules/disclaimers below

ships i mainly write for:

• fratt (obviously)

• spideydevil

• punspider

• my beloved triad from hell / spundevil (frankmattpeter)

• parksborn (disclaimer: none of my stuff is published/fin but i have fics for them!)

disclaimer: i am most comfortable with these ships, but that does not mean i will not write yours! so feel free to ask if you’re curious!

i am open to:

• writing your rare pair (ex: karendinah, wintercastle, frankmicro, foggybrett, frankfoggy, dexmatt)

• writing x male or enby reader (disclaimer: i have never done it before!)

• writing your oc (disclaimer: only if the relationship is not cis/het. i am queer and trans and my comfort zone is writing queer and/or trans stories. there are many other writers who will do write cis/het stuff for your oc, i’m just not that guy, sorry!)

• writing sapphic/wlw ships (i was queer prior to my transitioning and am comfortable writing women, but not cishet relationships or basically me ((x reader / x you)) as the woman. hope this makes sense)

• writing non-romance, slice of life, queer platonic relationships, solo character stuff, etc

• writing your headcanons (ex: demiromantic frank, non-binary foggy, peter is allergic to cats, brett knows matt is daredevil)

• writing smut (kink inclusive, i will tell you if it’s not something i’m comfy with)

• writing ‘dark’ topics / dead doves (disclaimer: i will post these on ao3 and link from here. i am not trying to get my blog taken down)

• writing that one thing you can’t stop thinking about

disclaimer: prompts may take me some time. my finished work may not be great, or may be ooc, but i will do my best! i am trying to push my boundaries as a writer. this is for fun.

ships i will not write for:

• kastle

• karedevil

• mattfoggy (disclaimer: as the romantic pairing, i am ok if it is platonic)

• mattfisk

• x woman reader (there are other authors for this)

• x you (skill issue)

• cis/het (disclaimer: i may be open to if it is frankmaria or mattelektra, depending on the prompt)

squicks & triggers (things i will NOT write so do not ask):

• any mcu!peter (i am also anti irondad/spiderson, fyi) and raimiverse!peter (he’s bland to me, sorry)

• anything that is “found family” parental related (ex: frank & amy)

• anything with the defenders romantically (i just haven’t watched/read them enough)

• non-con, dub-con, underage, anything that is not an enthusiastic yes and risk aware consensual

• racism, homophobia, ableism, hate crimes, etc

disclaimer: this list is non-exhaustive and i may have forgotten something, but i will let you know if your prompt is something i am not comfortable with writing. i may choose to not do your prompt for whatever reason, but i will always tell you.

[evilsquirrel18]

All Consuming

My muse for this was Sleeping At Last. The Atlas album and I alternated between Light, Saturn and Arctic. I am writing this based solely on the dialogue in the newest clips we got today from the twitter page. I hope you guys enjoy!

"I need to find..." Frank's guttural voice trailed off, cracked in emotion at the words spilling from his mouth. "I need to find those bastard that took them from me, Karen, and I gotta kill 'em." They had been standing on that overhang near the water for what seemed like an eternity. Their breaths puffing out, mixing with the chilly night air. The tensions were high, and the emotions even higher. Frank was no fool, he could see that it wasn't just aggitation on her face. It was worry. He could see it swimming in those damn celestial blue eyes. Eyes that had been haunting him as of late. Too blue. Not the honey hues he was used to in his dreams.

"So where does that end, Frank?" Tears were in her eyes, uninvited and unwanted. But she couldn't help the choked and strangled way she said her next words. "Because I look at you and my heart breaks because all I can see is just this... endless echoing loneliness." Karen was horrified at the way a few tears slipped from her eyes and she hoped the darkness of would hide them from him. But nothing was hidden from Frank. He saw it all and his chocolate eyes flickered to her face, to her cheeks. When had this become the norm for her? When had Karen graduated from innocent bystander to participant? When had she become so invested? And not just for justice for his family. For him. She wasn't invested for a story. She was in this for him. She cared, a lot more than she should. A lot more than she wanted. She dreamt of blood and rage and Kevlar. She dreamt of tender glances and midnight coffee. She breathed the scent of soap and gunpowder. She felt the fear of not knowing, of not hearing from him. It wrenched in her chest and it echoed each word she spoke. The underlying emotion. Fear.

"So what do you want, Karen? What do you want? Should I let it go?" He said the words in a rush, in a rush to get them out. What should he do? Give me direction, he thought with an urgency he wasnt used to. Help me. His face said it all. All the pain and dispair. All the anger and hate for them. The hate that his emotions were so mixed up. Cut and dry. Frank Castle had always been cut and dry. Good and evil. And here she was, putting his emotions, his views in a blender and making him wonder if he were wrong. His face twisted in an effort to keep him own emotions in check. Fuel it with rage, that was all he had. Wasn't it?

"No!" Karen's blue eyes sparkled with unshed tears. "But I want there to be an after!" It was said in a whoosh of need, of want and came out more as a plea than anything else. She saw the disbelief on his face as he swayed back from her, his dark gaze flickering across the water as he continued in his tyrant. His eyes were wild, he was struggling but she couldn't stop. She kept pushing him to his limits.

"Now look, I can't go after these men and keep you safe. I can't---"

"You don't have to keep me safe---" she was exasperated, it showed plainly in her tone. Another man trying to keep her safe and---

"What do you mean I don't have to keep you safe?" Frank exploded. His chest heaved and he was breathing like a winded horse. His eyes went even more wild. "My family is gone because of what I know!" He spoke like the words left a disgusting taste in his mouth. And they did. He wanted to be physically sick from what he had seen. "They're GONE!" He bellowed. And then he felt the guilt seep in and she began to shut down. He saw the way her lashes lowered and hid those eyes from him. How she shrunk in, flinched as he spoke.

"I cannot let that happen to you" It was only a whisper spread across gravel and it had Karen glancing up after he spoke. The tenderness she saw in his normally hard face had a tiny gasp fluttering from between her lips.

"Please." And his voice broke. It broke right along with her heart. Karen felt fresh tears well in her eyes, her arms firmly crossed over her chest. He was watching her and she couldn't read him. It was only when he leaned in that she realized-- his scent was always so all consuming of coffee and soap and his aftershave. Her breath caught in a small gasp when that strong jaw tilted and then pressure was against her skin Lips softer than she would have guessed were tenderly kissing her cheek. She allowed her eyes to flutter shut, she felt him pull back, it was cold where his lips had been.

Frank felt like his heart was about to gallop out of his chest. He looked down as his breath shuddered out of him. And then he couldn't look at her as his gaze cut to the water. Their breaths mingled, mixed in the salty air, but he could smell her. Citrus and sunshine and when his tongue darted out he could taste her. Finally his gaze darted to her face, gauging her reaction and what he saw there was hooded lids and confusion. He didn't say another word but his numb legs carried him away from her, had to get away. All he could hear was the steady roaring of his blood in his ears and the hammering of his heart against his ribcage. All he could feel was the devastatingly all consuming dispair. Not on my watch.

[edourado]

Off script

I did it. I worte something in the middle of the night and finished it just now.  This is me stretching my writing muscles. It’s unrevised and more than a little bit on the “trash” department, but I wrote it, so I thought I’d share it. 

It’s Kastle. Obviously. 

I have to go. I’ll review it when I come back from the vet with my dog. 

Thanks. Bye. Hope you like it. It’s trash.

-------

She had been very matter of factly. Way more than he anticipated, and he had anticipated it. 

He, on the other hand, had been ridiculous. Completely and undeniably ridiculous, unable to act according to his own resolutions. 

Frank had, for lack of a better word, rehearsed it. Their first meeting since their last one, that one where he just vomited words on her face, spoke without thinking, acted on momentary emotions, letting his confusion, his trauma, his stubbornness and pig headedness do the talking, resulting in distance, estrangement and, most definitely, deep, profound hurt. 

It had been their first meeting since that day, but not their first contact. Surprisingly, at the same time their strange relationship agonized, hers with Madani flourished, a friendship that was both startling and predictable. 

Friendship and professional collaboration, more often than not. And it had spilled on him, this time. 

(If ever she had children, Madani would make a very overbearing mother, Frank was willing to bet. She won him over by sheer persistence, and he was known as a stubborn man himself. Not delicately or diplomatically at all, she strongarmed him into consulting on her cases, forced a “job” both on him and her agency, cornered and bullied him into working for her, only to leave him wondering how the hell he had gotten there.)

And there he was, because of two women’s partnership, sitting on a bench in Battery park, watching as the wind made long strands of Karen’s hair twirl around her face, eventually catching on her lip, only to be pulled out by a finger while she talked, looking at a bunch of papers, explaining things to him that he should be listening, he should be paying attention, but he had just missed her so much, so much more than he even knew, it was like a punch to the stomach. 

“He was in Jersey on the 7th, by my accounts, but then he was tagged on a social media post, attending a party in Dubai three days later. That time window could be important, because Alec was-”

He heard none of it. He should, Madani was chasing this guy all around the country, and now he was going international for less than kosher reasons, and it was his job to predict his movements and place him somewhere she could catch him, and Karen had all this information - when did she not? - but right now he couldn’t even remember said guy’s name, much less why he should care where he was. 

Because she looked amazing. She sounded amazing and even smelled amazing, like something fresh and coffee and paper. 

She had looked at him so strangely, a simple “hi Frank” to make him turn around when she got to his bench, a polite “you look well” after sitting down, a “no, thanks” when he asked if she wanted some coffee from the place across the street. Karen hadn’t dwelled on their previous meeting, hadn’t asked questions about what he had been up to, didn’t really give him a chance to look too deep into her eyes, focusing on the file she had for him, notes for him to pass to Madani when she came back from Moscow, because he would see her first. 

And Frank had predicted this. He wasn’t a complete moron, and his last words to her still sounded clear as day in his mind, even if he was all banged and drugged up on the occasion. He knew she would not be warm and inviting, knew she would be hurt still, even wondered if she hadn’t followed his advice on Matt Murdock, or someone else. It stung like a bitch to think about that, but he had considered it, to prepare for this ten minute lunch break meeting, he had spent almost six nights running through different scenarios in his mind, to prepare himself. 

All in vain. All of those scenarios and rehearsed routes of conversation down the drain the moment he had seen her, heels and skirt and flowy blouse, a collapsing bun on the base of her neck, the wind, the collar of her coat and her own movements pulling and pushing strands loose. 

“He does have a daughter, though, but she is not as nearly as careful as he is. Loves flaunting the rich life on Instagram, she films everything, and I got to see that her driver was the same guy that was in Jersey with-”

Curtis had been very vocal about how stupid Frank had been when he narrated the hospital room events to him, and he didn’t even know Karen. 

“I don’t know her”, he had said over beers and an ignored game on TV. “I don’t need to know her, Frank, I just need to not be an idiot. Which you are, by the way, let’s make that clear.”

If he knew her, Frank was pretty sure Curt would smack him upside the head. If he could see her right then, ticking off items from her list, her pen poised on her hand as she went, sitting there with that file on her legs, looking at Frank from time to time to see if he followed - which he definitely didn’t - the crease on her brow when she focused on an item, the sheer blue of her eyes, the curve of her neck before the collar of her coat folded over skin, those stray hair locks lifting and falling with the breeze. 

Frank realized he was sitting turned towards her when his knee touched the back of the bench. Suddenly, he realized he had an elbow where his back was supposed to be, and his hand was supporting his face while he looked - stared - at her.

He was staring, full on staring, and found himself quite unable to stop. 

“The problem is”, she went on. “I can’t find any record of him planning to go to Dubai. I don’t even know how he got there. His name is in no manifesto I can find, and his plane is still parked here.”

Frank had forgotten how good he felt whenever he heard her voice. He had come to expect the soothing sensation that washed over him when they spoke, even the funny feeling that would run through his skin whenever he knew he was gonna see her. But it had been a while, now, and it shocked him a little bit, that feeling. It made him want to close his eyes and get closer to her, maybe touch his nose to that spot under her ear, over that birthmark, to investigate further on the delicate scent of her shampoo. Or, maybe, rest his head on her legs, to enjoy the sound of her voice without worrying about keeping himself sitting straight. 

He had been far from her for many months, and suddenly he wanted to extinguish that distance, nullify it, get as close to her as he could. He found it quite a strong urge, and discovered himself both uncappable and unwilling to resist it.  

“I don’t know how long he’ll be away”, she said as he leaned closer. “But he couldn't be very long, I doubt he’d delegate that much responsibility here, there’s too much going o-”

Contradicting everything he had told himself he would say or do, Frank saw his hand, lifting and reaching for her face, in no hurry, at the same time she lifted her own hand to move another lock of hair away from her eyes.

Karen looked at him when she saw his hand, a question in her eyes, and sucked in a surprised breath just before he caught her cheek and leaned forward, noses bumping before his mouth touched hers.

Not exactly a shock. Not an electric current like he had felt when he kissed Maria for the first time, or that buzz that had happened when he kissed her cheek that one time by the waterfront. Strangely, his mouth over Karen’s felt familiar, soothing, like he had done it a million times, even if he knew very well he hadn’t, was painfully aware of every single time he did not kiss her. 

She tensed against him, and her lips parted in surprise, which had been very, very pleasant - a friction against his own lips, rearranging slightly, opening up even if involuntarily - and he was about to pull back when he noticed she didn’t. 

With absolutely no notion of time, he waited a second or maybe an hour, before he moved his mouth against hers, trying a bit, tasting a bit, enjoying a lot, instantly addicted to the peculiar feeling of kissing her. 

His hand moved on her face, and the tip of his fingers found strands of hair. The edge of his teeth found the delicate skin of her lower lip, and he nibbled on it lightly before leaning further towards her, opening his mouth and creasing his brow in pleasure when she opened up further to him, tumbling her head back a degree or two, her small sigh threatening to dismantle him there where he sat. 

Her hand found his wrist when the tip of his tongue touched hers, and there it was, that jolt, exposed live wires touching, and he tightened his grip on her face at the same time she wrenched her mouth away from his, her forehead touching his while she exhaled sharply. 

“Jesus Christ”, she whispered. “Frank, what the hell?”

“I’m an idiot” were the words that came out of his mouth, both hands on her face now, sitting sideways on that very public bench, fulfilling his fantasy of touching his nose to the patch of skin under her ear, kissing the spot his lips touched, noticing her hand on his wrist was not pulling it away, noticing her posture had slumped a bit, she relaxed against the bench. “Fuck, I’m an idiot”.

“You’re… You’re aggravating, that’s what you are”, she said, her tone suggesting a reprimand, frustration, her movements indicating surrender, head tossing back to stretch her neck under his mouth, the hand not holding his against her face pulling on the fabric of his own coat. Pulling it towards her. 

Frank smiled. 

“Right back at ya.”

It was maybe not the best place to do this. A park in the middle of the day, with parents walking their children around, people on lunch breaks - just like Karen was - coming and going to and from all directions, perhaps it was not a good idea to just close his eyes and lose track of his surroundings like this, lose himself in her mouth and focus on nothing but her kisses, how her lips pressed against his and how her mouth opened willingly, how her tongue made a sort of shiver run laps around his spine. 

She made him mellow, he realized. Not just now, she always made him want to let go of everything he was holding, from deep embedded hate and guns to the sheer notion of reality and time around him, and that’s why he pushed her away at the same time he refused to let go of her, resulting in her hurt and confusion, the definition of those “mixed signals” people loved to talk about. 

Fucking great, Frank. Good job. 

“Oh God, ok, ok, wait wait wait”, she said, extricating herself from him one more time when the file she had on top of her legs tumbled to the floor. “I have- I have to go back, to the… To the office, I’m late already, what the hell, Frank?”

He picked up the file from the floor, gathering a page that had fallen from it and batting park dust from it.     

“I’m sorry”, he breathed, not really sorry at all for today, sorry for all those other times she reached for him so hard, only to have her hand and hopes swatted away. “I’m”, he let out a sigh, looking in her eyes, huge on him, lips parted and then not, her breathing a tad heavy, cheeks flushed. 

Curt was right. He was an idiot. 

.:.

She agreed to talk to him. 

He didn’t know what they would talk about, but that’s what they agreed on. To talk later that same day, because she had to go back to work, so they had gotten up from that bench and she had smoothed a hand down her clothes, gathering herself. 

Karen started saying something about a place she new near her apartment, where they could get a coffee and talk, more private than a park, but a curl of her hair had come to rest on her collarbone, twisting elegantly on a large curl, and Frank had found himself, again, taking a step forward and interrupting her, mouth over hers, pressing not so gently, and she let out a sort of hesitant chuckle when she pushed him away this time, closing her eyes and lifting her hand to her lips, shaking her head and then looking at him again. 

Now that he had started it, it was hard to stop. 

She said she would text him the address of the cafe, and looked at him with a sort of amused expectation before she walked away.

True to her word, she did text him the name and address of a small cafe, and it looked cozy when he walked by it on his way to her place. 

Not that he planned on climbing the fire escape and sitting there for an hour before she got off work. Frank had not planned to go there, he just found himself walking, his legs taking him there by their own accord, the memory of her teeth against his lip and her tongue against his dictating where he was going, making him walk straight by the place she told him to go, around the block and up the metal ladder. 

He sat there for what felt like forever, a cold breeze nipping his face, until he heard the familiar noise of her heels against pavement, her gait like an alarm clock, and he opened the window at the same time she opened the door downstairs. 

He was ready to apologise, again, for the scare he would give her when she opened her front door to find him standing in the dark in the middle of her living room, but she just looked straight at him and shook her head, closing the door behind her again. 

“I knew it”, she said, to which he smiled in spite of himself, legs on autopilot again, taking one two three steps towards the door while she stood there taking her coat off. “Jesus, what has gotten into yo-” she started to ask before he interrupted her for the third time that day, both hands on her face, taking full advantage of the privacy of her dark apartment, opening his mouth immediately to her kisses, delighted by the arms that sneaked their way up his chest and around his neck, hands on his face and down his back, gripping the fabric of his shirt, she kissed him so fully, without any guard, and he loved her for it. 

He loved her for kissing him like this, he loved her for being so stubborn, loved her for standing up to him, standing with him, for pointing that gun at him that one time, for sitting with him in the hospital, for crying for his family, for fighting for him when she didn’t even know who the hell he was. 

Frank loved her so much and he had known it for so long, but the realization hit like a brick to the forehead nonetheless.

“You are an idiot”, she said right after kicking her shoes off and helping him off his coat. 

“Yeah”, he agreed, pulling on the string on her collarbone, undoing the knot that kept her top together. “I know.”  

[zushigirl]

My cat is cute and a glass of whiskey helps me get in the mood to write more of my Kastle fic. That is all 🥃 ✍️

[fireblaze5555]

Kastle Drabble

A quick idea that struck me over the weekend.

Title: A Long Day

Summary: Frank and Karen deal with intruders in their apartment

Available on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26470678/chapters/64501375 

Part 1: Karen:

Karen half stumbled into the apartment, exhaustion and relief in equal parts making her clumsy as she tossed her keys down and kicked her heels off to beeline for the kitchen. She was more than ready for a beer, sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. The day’s investigation had led her in a wide circle around the city with very little viable information gained. In short, it was a complete bust and her feet were killing her. So, with practiced ease she flicked on the standing lamp in the living room, pulled a cold beer out of the fridge, opened and drained half of it with a satisfied sigh and headed for the bathroom, a hot bath calling her name.

It was nearly an hour before she emerged from the bathroom dressed in her favorite pair of sweats and most comfortably worn in t-shirt. The stress of the day was finally easing out of her shoulders and the aching in her feet had calmed to a dull throb so Karen was starting to feel much more positive about the rest of her evening. With a renewed sense of purpose, Karen ran long fingers through her wet hair and gave a determined nod, speaking quietly to herself, “Time to see if I can make some sense of what I did manage to find today…”

A creak in the living room made Karen turn sharply and just like that what hope for her evening she had managed to regain vanished into vapor, replaced with a spike of adrenaline and fear quickly followed by acute exhaustion and no small amount of annoyance.

She really wasn’t in the mood to be kidnapped or whatever the three men now standing in her living room had planned. Judging by the smug looks and weapons strapped to their waists, they weren’t here on a social call or even just to deliver a warning. It really spoke to her way of life and how much shit she had been through that now that the initial shock had worn off, she was just tired and annoyed. In the short time it had taken her to compute there was a threat in her apartment, Karen had already formulated a plan. There were weapons stashed all around the apartment and she knew how to use all of them, as long as she could avoid getting grabbed she felt fairly confident she could get out of the apartment mostly unscathed.

From where she stood a few feet outside of her bedroom doorway, Karen could see the kitchen and from the corner of her eye verified that her first choice for defense was tucked up under the island where it had been secured just the other day. She turned her attention back to the living room, watching the intruders again. They had moved a little further in and looked confident that their job was already done, no doubt assuming that a skinny blonde in her pajamas would be an easy take down. Karen felt the familiar hot rise of anger burn up her spine. When were men going to learn that underestimating her would almost always be their last mistake?

As subtly as she could, Karen flicked her eyes over again to gauge the distance between her and the gun fastened to her kitchen furniture when her eyes flicked over the neon numbers of the microwave flashing midnight. For a moment, through her clamoring thoughts, she tried to remember why the time seemed so significant. Then it clicked and some of the tension bled out of her shoulders.

One of the men took a step forward and looked like he was about to speak but Karen cut him off.

“You should leave. Now.” She said, her voice solid but laced with obvious weariness.

The man closest to her looked back at his friends with an incredulous little laugh before turning a patronizing smile to her, “Aw, but we just got here Karen. We can’t just leave before we have all the fun we have planned for y-..”

“Listen, I can honestly say I’ve heard several variations of this speech over the years and I just don’t have the energy for it tonight. I’ve had plenty of fun today, thanks anyway. You can go now.” The men continued to chuckle, eyebrows raised at her sharp tone and defiant demeanor. A heaving sigh escaped her. “Look, you really need to go before he gets home.”

One of the men, this one had a sharp smile, began to fiddle with a blade as he sauntered forward to stand next to his companion, “Ooh, you have a man living here with you Ms. Page? A real tough guy?” You have no idea , she thought but didn’t interrupt him. “Does he know that you’re snooping around where you shouldn’t be?”

Yes, it’s a never ending source of stress for him but he gave up trying to convince me to stop so I don’t see how that matters. Once again, she let him continue.

“Well even if he doesn’t, he’ll find out soon enough. We plan to carve every little problem you’ve caused for us into that pretty skin of yours, once we’re done with you, of course.”

It was so cliche it nearly made Karen roll her eyes. She didn’t though, she still needed to be focused, each time they got a little closer, she moved a little closer to her destination.

As much as she really didn’t like these men, and she really didn’t, she felt like she should try to give them one last warning.

“Whatever it is that I’ve done to piss you off, I’m telling you, it won’t be worth what’s coming. If you leave right now, I won’t report anything and you all don’t have to die.” Her voice was steady and earnest. If, by some miracle, they did decide to just leave she fully intended on reporting it to Mahoney, Karen was almost certain she knew what faction these men were from and it wouldn’t be hard to track them down.

As she expected, they just laughed.

“Well, we appreciate the warning Karen but I think we will stick around.” The gaze he scraped over her body made her give an involuntary shiver, “We are going to have so much fun together. Before we kill you and leave you here for your poor little boyfriend to find that is.”

Well, she did everything she could. Karen tensed, prepared to fight and watched the men across from her do the same.

Just as she felt like the tension was about to snap into a flurry of motion, there was a creaking behind her, the old floorboards protesting. Before she had time to process the new potential threat, three sets of eyes snapped to look over her shoulder, nearly identical sneers of bravado on each of their faces.

What Karen couldn’t see was death himself materializing from the dark of the bedroom doorway behind her. A face carved from granite and colored with deadly calm stared at the intruders, the deep set, nearly black eyes the only indication of the rage roiling under the surface. The men watched the newcomer advance with heavy footfalls, stepping around the mouthy private investigator to level a malevolent glare at each of them in turn. It was then that they took in the blood splatter across his face and the slow drip of blood from one of his fingers. He had a deadly stance that only a true killer could possess. Karen could see the confidence starting to drain from the men’s faces but it was the tactical vest that made them all go pale, taking several hurried steps back towards the door. A white skull stared back at them, the hollowed eyes seeming to follow their harried movement.

“Karen.” It was spoken quietly but the deep graveled voice seemed to fill all corners of the small apartment. “Did they touch you?”

“No, man! We didn’t lay a finger on her! We were just going to talk to her, I swear.” The cocky leader of the small group hurried to plead their case but Frank silenced him with a withering look, a low animalistic sound emanating from deep in his throat.

“I wasn’t talking to you asshole.”

Stepping forward, Karen laid a gentle hand to his shoulder, “No, Frank, they hadn’t done anything to me.” Yet , hovered in the air between them.

Without waiting to see what he would do, the men bolted for the door. They had been expecting an easy evening silencing a reporter, not a fight with the Punisher.

Frank tensed, ready to follow them but before he did he turned back to Karen. She knew he was going to kill them and was too tired to pick a fight on the matter. Instead, she looked him over quickly to be sure he didn’t have any obvious injuries from the mission he had just returned from and when her quick scan turned up nothing, she rested a soft hand to his cheek.

“Punctual as usual.” She said quietly. He had promised her he would be home by midnight and Frank didn’t break his promises to Karen.

He gave a small huff and some of the tension bled out of him before Frank leaned into the touch. He gave her palm a soft kiss then placed a softer, more lingering kiss on her lips.

“I’ll be back in less than an hour, wanna heat up some leftovers?” he asked, stepping back to check his ammo and stride toward the door, a predator on the hunt.

With a sigh, Karen leaned against the counter and for the hundredth time wondered how this was her life.

“Yeah, I’ll have it ready. Try not to get hurt, I’ve already taken a bath and I’m ready to go to bed.”

A crooked grin and a ‘Yes, Ma’am’ was all she heard before her apartment door clicked shut

Part 2: Frank

Frank slid through the bedroom window and landed noiselessly, trying not to wake Karen if she was already asleep. From a text she had sent him earlier it had been a rough day for her so he didn’t want to make it worse. Frank’s evening had been pretty standard, the targets he had been after went down without too much of a fight so the blood on him mostly wasn’t his, the shallow cut on his forearm the only exception.

The bathroom door opened just as he was settling the window quietly closed and he gave a little smile when he looked over his shoulder to see Karen emerge. She was in a loose pair of sweats and one of his worn in black t-shirts. She didn’t seem to notice him, taking a few steps out of the bathroom towards the kitchen, no doubt planning to do more work until he made her get some rest. Frank heard her mutter something to herself and just as he turned and started to poke a little fun at her for talking to herself, Karen’s head snapped to the living room to follow the noise he had just registered as well.

Instantly his body shifted back into battle mode, his muscles tensed and ready, his senses straining for any clues to the potential threat and with a few silent steps he saw the men standing in their living room.

Rage burned hotly through him along with no small amount of fear, Karen was far too close to the intruders. She was tense but he could tell she had already thought of possible scenarios and had probably already solidified a plan. His girl always was calm in the face of danger. Frank forced himself to only take a few steps forward and listen, he trusted Karen to protect herself, lord knows she had done it plenty before he came along, and if he could stay calm and pay attention he may be able to get information on what organization they are from. Just in case though he had his sidearm up and ready to take out the threat.

They stared each other down for what felt like an eternity and then Frank saw Karen glance to the side and just a hint of tension bled out of her.

“You should leave. Now.”

If he wasn’t so furious and anxious Frank would have smiled.

Listening to the exchange he was able to learn that they hadn’t come for her because of him. Which means she probably knew where they were from. Good.

“...Does he know that you’re snooping around where you shouldn’t be?”

Frank barely kept from scoffing. Oh, he knew. Every new gray hair he found he was certain was due to one Karen Page. Then the man threatened her, a wicked knife twirling in his hand and Frank was taking careful steps forward, pausing when Karen spoke up once again.

“...and you all don’t have to die.”

Oh, but they did. Now or later, it made no difference, he would find them. He felt a flare of pride, she knew he would be here for her. Karen may not realize that he is in the apartment now but trusts that he will be here because he gave his word. Another reason he didn’t deserve her.

Frank’s pride melted to anger when they laughed at her. The pieces of shit had no idea the mercy she was trying to grant them. Then again, they had come here to kill the only shining light in the city so they really weren’t all that smart.

When he saw all parties tense and prepare for action he took heavy strides out of the bedroom. Frank knew how capable Karen was but he wasn’t going to stand by and see her attacked when he was there to prevent it.

The soon to be dead men snapped their eyes to him as he carefully stepped around Karen and put himself between her and the threat. It was with grim satisfaction that he watched them realize their mistake and backpedal as quickly as they could. But it was too late for that.

“Karen.” He was trying to not let the rage take over. It would be best not to kill them in the apartment but now that he was closer to them he wanted nothing more than to end them. “Did they touch you?” He knew they hadn’t but a part of him needed the confirmation from her.

One of them had the nerve to speak for her and Frank nearly lost it. Just as quickly, he regained his composure when he felt Karen’s hand on his shoulder. She knew how to steady him.

The cowards fled quickly after that. He moved to go after them immediately but thought better of it, turning to Karen. As was tradition, she looked him over, scanning for injuries and reassuring herself that he was fine. It was a ritual they had adopted in their time together. A few moments to hover, dispel the worry then get back to living.

When she rested a cool palm to his cheek, Frank almost decided to not go after them for the night. He could find them just as easy tomorrow and he was tired. But he also knew he wouldn’t be able to truly rest until they had been eliminated. So with a couple lingering kisses he was headed toward the door.

“...Try not to get hurt, I’ve already taken a bath and I’m ready to go to bed.”

Christ he loved that woman.

“Yes, Ma’am.” he said around a smile and set out to wrap up some loose ends.

It wasn’t hard to find them, they hadn’t gotten far and their arrogance had returned once they were off of his home turf, thinking that he would not follow. Idiots.

So, true to his word, Frank was easing back into the apartment 45 minutes later to the smell of leftover pasta. He stopped long enough for another once over from Karen before reaching for a plate.

“Uh, Frank?” He looked over to her with a raised eyebrow,

Karen looked exasperated, “Do you think maybe you should, I don’t know, wash your hands or something?’ She shook her head at him when he stared at his bloody hands for a second. “Bathing in the blood of your enemies sounds real cool and all but practically speaking it’s just not sanitary, please let go of my good plate and go wash your hands at least.”

Frank gave an amused huff, setting the plate down and moving to the sink. Only after he had thoroughly scrubbed his hands and up his forearms did he return to the kitchen island. When he sat down Karen placed a kiss to his temple as she set a beer in front of him before settling in for her own dinner.

She filled him in on the details of her mostly failed endeavor today and became animated when she informed him that while he was gone she thought of another, sure-fire way, to get the information she needed.

Frank chewed slowly, hanging on her every word and throwing in his thoughts here and there but mostly just marveled at the woman before him, talking about her day like she hadn’t just had her life threatened and he hadn’t murdered a handful of people in the name of justice tonight.

For the thousandth time he wondered how this was his life.

Once they had eaten and Frank had scrubbed off in the shower, they stepped into the dark of the bedroom, both exhausted from the day's toils.

The last thing to be heard were murmured ‘I love you’s before the bedroom door clicked shut.

[ninzied]

writer’s block

She hadn’t written in days-turned-to-weeks, and it was one missed deadline—two—three—before Karen thought to open her laptop again. Her catching up on some much-needed rest hardly meant that the city’s despicable deserved the same.

Her fingers were poised on the keys just as Frank emerged from his shower, back glistening, his towel slung low. His mouth crooking when their eyes met, both of them caught mid-stare at each other—

And the city’s criminals would have to go unpunished for another night, she thought as he drew closer, pulling her out of her chair and into his arms for a kiss.

[kastlenetwork]

Okay, but Kastle Fic Week: Quarantine Addition?

[mxdani]

Instead of season two happening...

Frank fucks off to Iowa and buys a farmhouse and keeps goats and chickens because he may not know a damn thing about farming but he’s sick of the violence and wants to nurture something for once. He fixes up the house and handmakes furniture and sells his eggs and goat milk in the market a couple towns over. One night the chickens start making noise in the middle of the night and he heads out to see what the commotion is (because he’ll never admit it but he’s grown attached to the featherbrains) and gets smacked over the head with a 2x4 by a freaked out and very hungry Amy who is still on the run. She tries to steal his truck and drive away but can’t hotwire it fast enough so he goes after her and eventually convinces her not to steal his truck and come inside for a cup of coffee. He lets her stay the night in his guest room, telling himself he’ll drive her to town in the morning and never see her again but he wakes up to fresh coffee and pancakes that she made and never gets around to it. She helps out around the farm and he lets her sleep in his guest room and she starts making handmade soaps to sell and both of them pretend not to be friends. Amy gets him to talk about the woman he left behind in New York. Trouble doesn’t come find them. But Karen Page does. After months of exchanging letters with “Pete Castiglione” she rolls up to the farmhouse and sees frank fixing up the railing on the porch with soft music playing from a tinny little radio and Amy sipping lemonade on the porch swing. Frank stares at her and she smiles. She stays for dinner, and Frank tells himself she will drive off in the morning and he’ll never see her again. But there is another place set for breakfast and Karen doesn’t make it around to leaving either.

[kanerallels]

Heck. I reached my word count for the day, but I'm actually kinda vibing with the idea of continuing with this project for a while. Someone tell me whether I should keep going with this one or start working on another

[darlingshane]

10 more chapters have been added on AO3. (I have 5 more left to post that I'm currently working on)

Summary: Karen has sworn to never date anyone in the workplace ever again, but it's a rule that she might need to break when she starts her new job at Castle Motors as a marketing consultant.

CW: au - romantic comedy, fluff, crack, slow burn, friendship, drinking, workplace relationships, eventual romance, happy ending, frank and maria are divorced but have a good relationship. (and marketing, a lot of marketing.)

Word Count: 23,9k

A/N: This is based on a drabble I wrote a few years ago of the same title here (it was kind of a mess so don't check it out, just read this one instead).

— Links: AO3 // Kastle Masterlist.

Excerpt from one of my favorite chapters (12):

His words were like a balm to her wounded heart, and without thinking, Karen reached out and touched his shoulder until they were both standing in the middle of their confinement, face to face. Her hand stayed on his shoulder, slid slowly to his bicep, as Frank found himself responding to her touch, leaning closer to her.

The air turned lighter, forming a bubble around them as they finally looked each other in the eye– capturing deeply every doubt, every fear, every hesitation for a long moment before letting their foreheads meet in the middle.

Karen and Frank closed their eyes, the world outside the elevator fading away. In that moment, it was just the two of them, sharing something intimate and real, something that neither of them had expected but couldn’t deny. They swayed slightly as if they were about to fall, but that imaginary bubble held them together. Frank’s eyes flicked open, and he focused on the shape of her lips. Drawn to them, his head tilted–