#sorry guys. frank castle has captured me and is holding me hostage

[little-tangerines]

um. happy father's day?

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Don't Want To Say Goodbye

Write You A Letter: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven

Paring: Frank Castle/Reader

Tags: female reader, Frank Castle needs a hug (or eight), waiters & waitresses, swearing, fluff and angst, based on a song by Cub Sport (Write You A Letter), some spoilers for Daredevil (TV), Matt Murdock-centric, Reader-centric, Frank Castle-centric, enemies to friends (Frank & Matt), alcohol, no Y/N or ________ (reader’s name not mentioned), overthinking, Matt Murdock matchmakes (that’s it, that’s the fic)

Summary: A waitress at Josie’s bar connects with the Punisher, and for once, gets under his skin a different way than all the criminals in Hell’s Kitchen. Hell, even Daredevil knows it, but there’s no way for Frank to try to get close to someone…especially after what happened last time.

Word Count: 1,020

Posting Date:  2017-02-18

Current Date: 2017-06-03

The one person who can see through you is your boss. Perhaps also your parents, sure, but they don't see you as often as you like, and it's not like you have the time or money to catch a bus to Harlem to catch up with them. Besides, you heard there was a guy up there, like the Daredevil, protecting them all. It helped you sleep at night.

But Josie sees straight through you like you're a glass of crystalline top-shelf vodka, and she pulls you in for a hug. She isn't the hugging type, and would sooner scalp the person who initiated the close-range exchange of familiarity, but in her arms, you feel comfort like she's the one who would protect you from the terrible things that lurked out in the streets and strayed into the sheets.

"Tell me who made you look like that, and I'll beat them up with my own two fists," she raises her arms, making her look as formidable as she looks every night when the regulars come in and dance on the edge of trouble. "Don't tell me it was a boy who's distracting my honours student from making top of the class," she crosses her arms, staring you down.

You can't help but laugh darkly, and take up the rag and start cleaning at the bar bench. "More like a man, one who should know by now what it feels like to have his heart ripped clean from his chest."

Josie narrows her eyes. "You tell that man to fight me. I can't have my only waitress stuck in here for the rest of her godforsaken life when she could be out negotiating hostage situations." She huffs, snatching the rag from her. "Kick him out of your place, darl', because there's no room for a heart breaker in your life."

"But what if I'm the idiot as well, and I love him?" you sigh.

Josie huffs. "Well, then, we just have to listen to what time tells us." You don't ask her what happens when time runs out. You nod, and go back to preparing the bar for the night ahead.  

---

That night, you're being extra cheery. Hell, the Kitchen was full of grumpy people who hated life and wanted out of the city but couldn't drag themselves out from her grasp. But you're smiling for them all, earning tips, thinking of what Josie filled your head with. The attorneys who come by often, and helped clean up the place, Nelson and Murdock and their secretary, Karen Page come by, wearing their day clothes to drink in the evening. While Foggy tips back a shot of brandy, but as you go to take the empty glass, Mr. Murdock touches your wrist with a feather-light graze. It's nothing like what it felt like with Frank's hand on yours - sure, Matt's hand is calloused, yes, but it doesn't cover your hand, swallowing it whole, his shadow doesn't hulk, and smother your own shadow.

How can you miss him this much?

"I want to offer you a job," he says, words heard barely over the jukebox in the corner. "A person with your knowledge of criminology would make an excellent lawyer, sure, if you choose to come down that path, but we need someone with your skill set."

Your mouth runs dry. "Are you sure you're not just a little drunk, Mr. Murdock?" you ask him, heart racing a little faster at the tantalising prospect of a position somewhere, even without job security.

"I'm very sure I'm not drunk," he replies, handing you his own emptied glass. "Take time to think of it...as you have with what you've been deliberating over the man at the door." Turning, you see the entrance to the bar is ajar, the door letting in some of the cool evening breeze from the street inside. There stands a man who you had memorised everything of, from the crook of his neck to the scabs on his knuckles, from the scars on his back, to those he made every night he came back to you. "Go on, talk to him." Matt urges.

Placing the tray down, you walk, almost floating toward him. He hasn't had a shave in a while, and neither has his hair been cut atop his head, and grows in ringlets that make you want to run your hands through them, to inhale their scent. Under the brim of his hat, you see his eyes follow you, watch as you tug him outside into the quiet street.

Outside, you look at your hands. The words you'd deliberated over have evaporated from your tongue, and you're left speechless before Frank Castle, who for once, looks like he's not covered in a litany of bright bruises, and red cuts. Instead, they are fading to yellow, slowly, and quietly. Just as you go to speak, anything, whatever you could think of, Frank beats you to it.

"I didn't think of you when I went out," he murmurs, that accent of his hitting you in the chest. It's been ages since you'd last heard him speak, and it still has the same affect on you. "I didn't think of you and your life and everything you're working for. Sure, being with me...it'll get you hurt, and I can't guarantee to be always around to save you," his voice breaks, and your heart melts. You reach a hand to hold his, to be warmed by him.

"Frank..." you whisper.

"I haven't been able to say this for a while now, but you're one hell of a lady, and I," he takes a deep breath, "I love you. I'm sorry you had to wait for it; I'm not the most stable of people, and I'll never be what you deserve -,"

You tug his hand, tug him toward you so you capture his lips with your own, inhale his scent, become closer than you'd ever been to him at once and in the moment. "Don't say that. Shit happens, Castle. And I don't care, it won't stop me from loving you right back."

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