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whenthep8wn · 4 months ago

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pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: you and frank have to deal with the aftermath of his decision.

warnings: swearing, lots of angst, a lil surprise at the end ;)

word count: 4.6k

a/n: I can't believe that this is the second to last chapter of this series. pls excuse me while I go cry. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[previous chapter] | [series masterlist]

The last time you stepped foot in a hospital had been when your mom passed. When you walked that familiar path to her room that day, you hadn’t known then it would be the last time. You knew her fate was inevitable, and that it was coming, but you thought you had more time with her. You thought you would at least get a chance to say goodbye, but that final moment of closure had been stolen from you, just like the time you were supposed to have with her.

That had been one of the worst days of your life, and now you were anxiously awaiting to find out if you were about to have your second, because Frank had been in a coma for the past forty eight hours and you had no idea if you were out of time with him too.

“You alright?”

In the midst of your brain cycling through the worst possible outcomes like some kind of fucked up lottery, you hadn’t heard the rhythmic tapping of a cane against the cold sterile floor. Lifting your head to the sound of the familiar voice, you just stared up at Matt for a moment. The red tinted sunglasses hid his sightless eyes, but there was a fresh bruise blooming on his left cheekbone. Knowing the shape Frank was in, you wondered how many of Matt’s injuries were hidden beneath his clothes.

“You want my honest answer, or you want me to lie to you?”

A wry smile tugged at the edge of his mouth.

“I’d know if you did.”

A faint furrow formed between your brows at that admission, and then a soft snort of disbelief left you as you shook your head and rubbed your hands tiredly down your face.

“Is that your secret to being a really good lawyer? Being a human lie detector?”

Matt shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, anxiously tightening his grip on his cane with both of his hands. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and he cocked his head slightly to the side.

“Can I ask you something?”

“What?”

After hesitating for a moment, Matt folded up his cane and took the empty seat next to you where you were waiting outside Frank’s hospital room. He leaned in a little closer, dropping the volume of his voice.

“How…how did you-”

“You have a very distinct voice, you know.”

Matt’s lips parted for a second as if to speak, and then he closed them a moment later. A dry chuckle suddenly sounded in his chest and his lips spread into an amused smile, causing faint dimples to appear within the dark grown out stubble covering his cheeks.

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or concerned.”

“Why would you be concerned?”

“Because you know who I am now.”

Even though Matt wasn’t outright voicing his worry, you could hear it in the undertone of his voice. He must have been aware that you had written articles about the infamous Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, and now you knew the name of the man behind the horns. Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you reached over and placed your hand on top of his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Yeah, I do. You’re my lawyer. You helped put my ex in prison for life after he almost got me killed. And, you’re also my friend, who just happens to have a…interesting choice in night time hobbies.”

Matt arched one of his dark brows, a hint of humor in his smooth voice.

“I don’t know if I’d call it a hobby. Hobbies are usually fun.”

“Matt, you helped save my life, and his.”

Matt was quiet for a moment before he turned his hand beneath yours, palm side up, and curled his fingers around the back of your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze when he spoke.

“Thank you.”

A soft smirk gently graced the edge of lips as he nudged your shoulder with his own.

“You know, I’ve never had to work so hard to save two people in my life. Most people aren’t so stubborn and have at least some sense of self-preservation.”

“Okay, surely I wasn’t as bad as him-”

“Pretty close.”

Pressing your lips together, you rolled your eyes which earned a laugh from Matt, and he gave your hand another faint squeeze. After a comfortable silence fell over the two of you, he turned his head in your direction.

“You’re not gonna ask?”

“Ask what?”

Matt shifted in the chair and turned his body towards you, tilting his head to the side slightly when he heard the evident confusion in your voice.

“About me.”

Arching one of your brows in silent questioning, you looked at Matt curiously, and his own confusion was written clearly all over his face.

“I mean, everyone that’s found out has a lot of questions. You know, how does a blind man-”

“Matt, aliens came out of the sky and nearly destroyed New York. A giant purple asshole wiped out half the universe with a snap of his shiny rhinestoned glove, and then all those people magically came back five years later. Luke Cage has bulletproof skin. Jessica Jones is super strong. Thor is a literal norse god, Bruce Banner turns into a really big green guy, and according to Homeland Security, my boyfriend is a former homicidal maniac that is technically dead. No offense, but you being Daredevil is kind of low on my list of weird shit I have questions about.”

Matt was silent for a solid minute before a burst of laughter bubbled up and erupted from his chest. His lips spread into a wide tooth bearing grin, both of his dimples now deeply indented into his cheeks.

“Well, when you put it like that.”

Letting out a soft laugh of your own, you shook your head faintly. Matt opened his mouth to say something and then abruptly paused, turning his head towards the wall behind the both of you, his dark brows knit together. Your eyes flickered between the wall and the look of concentration on Matt’s face.

“What is it?”

“He’s awake.”

Matt barely finished his sentence before you let go of his hand and shot up out of your chair, rushing over to push open the door of Frank’s hospital room and step inside. Your heart was pounding in your ears and your hands were trembling watching Frank slowly regain consciousness, a soft pinch forming between his dark brows as he inhaled deeply through his large broken nose.

When his eyes finally fluttered open, you were already at his side. He blinked slowly a few times, faintly squinting as his eyes adjusted to the artificial light after being unconscious for two days. He glanced around the room in a state of hazy disorientation, but when his eyes eventually met yours, that blurry perplexity swiftly sharpened into clarity. For a minute, the two of you just silently stared at one another.

It was hard to see Frank like this, lying in a hospital bed, battered and broken. There were even more cuts and bruises he’d sustained after leaving you in that hallway. But even with the deep blooms of fresh bruises and the dark angry wounds that had begun to clot and heal on his face, he still looked every bit like the man you had fallen in love with.

Frank’s face was just as blank as it had been for the past two days while he was out. For a second you were worried that he had sustained some kind of head trauma the doctors had missed and that he was currently suffering from some form of amnesia, but you could see recognition in his eyes when he looked at you. He just wasn’t talking. You didn’t know if he was waiting for you to speak first or if he just didn’t know what to say after the way he’d left you, but you didn’t waste another second before firing off.

“Dinah told me about the deal you made with her. Were you ever gonna tell me?”

You didn’t bother trying to hide the anger on your face, or disguise it in your voice. For the past two days all you had been able to think about was the fact that Frank had told you he loved you and then left you behind, seemingly without intending to make it out of that situation with Billy alive. He had told you goodbye in that moment, and you had been too overwhelmed to realize it.

But when the shock faded, you were furious.

The expression on Frank’s face was still unreadable, and the longer he went without speaking, the angrier you got. He stared at you for a moment before his gruff voice broke the tense silence.

“Yeah.”

“They found Schoonover and Rawlins both dead. Was that you?”

“Yeah.”

There wasn’t even a hint of remorse in his voice when he confirmed that he’d murdered two of his former superiors. It was firm and unwavering. Frank didn’t attempt to lie to you or defend his actions. He was completely unapologetic about it, just like he had been when he’d killed Cavella and Walker. Forty-eight hours ago, he’d wiped out Billy’s entire team like they were nothing, and there was no trace of guilt over it in his eyes.

You were still trying to reconcile the two versions of Frank in your head; the one you knew, and the one currently in front of you. The image of him in that bulletproof vest with the bloodied skull on his chest was seared into your memory.

“Why didn’t you kill Billy?”

Frank could hear the faintest of a waver in your voice, a break of raw emotion in your audible frustration and confusion. He turned his head to stare out the window on his left, though he didn’t appear to actually be looking at anything. There was a far away look in his eyes, but his face was as hard and cold as his rough voice.

“Dyin’s easy. He has to live with what he’s done.”

Letting out a dry scoff, you look a step closer towards Frank’s bed as your brows furrowed in disbelief.

“You think he’ll feel an ounce of remorse now?”

“I don't give a shit if he feels bad.”

Frank turned his head to look at you, displaying that familiar broody expression that you currently wanted to smack off of his face. He was looking at you like you’d just asked the most ridiculous question in the world.

“Every day he’s gonna look at that ugly, mangled face, and he’s gonna remember what he did. He’s gonna remember me. He's gonna spend the rest of his life rottin’ in a goddamn cell, knowin’ I put him there. Knowin’ that he had everything, and now he’s got nothin’-that he is nothin’. For him, that’s worse than dyin’.”

Revenge didn’t dull the sharp edge of Frank’s hatred for Billy, and it didn’t ease the grievance of his loss. If anything, it just seemed to rip open that wound even wider that had never really healed in the first place since that tragic day in Central Park. Getting vengeance on the three people who were the sole facilitators of his family’s murder didn’t bring Frank peace any more than wiping out all those men years ago did. Billy’s betrayal had twisted that knife further, cut Frank deeper, and you were afraid that it would never have a chance of healing now.

“Frank-”

“You uh…you should go.”

Those words were like a bucket of ice water being dumped onto your head, sobering your heartache and frustration. Frank wasn’t looking at you, and you couldn’t look at anything other than him.

“What?”

The shock and disbelief rang clear in your breathless whisper, sounding as if the very wind had been knocked right out of your lungs, and it cut Frank to his core. He couldn’t look at you. He couldn’t see the hurt and perplexity on your face. He kept his gaze averted towards the window, a muscle feathering in his clenched bruised jaw.

“That deal I made with Madani, it’s over. She ain’t a miracle worker. She got me a second shot, she can’t get me a third one. And I don’t want it.”

“Frank-”

“You gotta walk away, Y/N. You gotta walk away, alright. You can’t…I’m not…you’re better off, alright. You’re just…you’re better off.”

“Don’t say that-”

“I am not the man you think I am, alright? I’m not. I…I’m just…”

Frank closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, and his large hands gripped the blanket so tightly that the bruises and cuts on his knuckles paled and went stark white. He muttered incoherently under his breath, letting out a shaky exhale, and when he opened his eyes they were blurry with loss and pain.

“I was done. I was…I was, I told Maria. I’d just gotten home the night before, and I woke up the next mornin’ and I was just…it hit me, ya’know? It was just time, ya’know? I wanted…I was done, I wanted to be with them. It’s where I shoulda been the whole time, ya’know? It just…I saw her face, and it hit me, and I just knew. I wasn’t goin’ back. And the kids, ya’know, I was…I was gonna tell ‘em that day. Tell ‘em that daddy wasn’t leavin’ anymore, that he was…he was stayin’.”

Frank’s tear filled eyes were darting back and forth as he stared off towards the window, his bruised and beaten face contorted in grief and guilt. The raw agony cracking in his quiet voice and the sound of him struggling to suck in a breath had you reaching out to grip onto his hand as heartbroken tears slipped down your own face. Seeing the tears slip down his face when Billy confessed to being involved in his family’s murder had gutted you, but seeing Frank cry like this…you could physically feel it breaking your heart.

“That day we went to the park, ya’know the kids, they were too old for that stupid carousel, but they just laughed and laughed and…ya’know they were smilin’ and so happy. And I was…I was too, ya’know. I was home, I was…I was with them, and I was stayin’, but I…I didn’t get to tell ‘em. And it’s my fault they’re gone. It was…it was my bullshit. I got them killed, and I nearly got you killed and I can’t…I can’t do that again, Y/N, I can’t.”

Out of all the things you were expecting Frank to say when he finally woke up, this wasn’t it. This was not how you’d imagined this conversation going. Your heart ached seeing Frank so distraught and hearing the pure anguish in his voice. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the weight of his trauma or the sting of that suffering, and you knew why he was afraid, but this couldn’t be it. It just couldn’t. Not after everything you had been through together.

When he started to push you away for a second time, something within you snapped, and it set your bloodstream ablaze.

“No.”

“Y/N-”

“No.”

Frank snapped his head up in your direction when you yelled at him. You’d lost your temper with him before, but not like this. The sheer force behind your voice and the fire burning in your eyes caught him off guard.

“You don’t get to do that.”

Hearing the accusation in your tone, the melancholy lingering along his bottom lash line faded and his face shifted into an expression of crestfallen puzzlement.

“You don’t get to tell me that you love me and then push me away.”

Frank’s dark brows knit together suddenly, frustration creasing along his forehead as he looked up at you and spoke in a defensive tone.

“Hey, I do love you. That’s why I’m pushin’ you away, don’t you get that? I’m not draggin’ you down with me-”

“Oh so I don't get a say in this anymore? That’s it? You’re just giving up?”

“I’m doin’ what’s best for you-”

“That’s bullshit!”

Frank watched as you let out a dry and incredulous short laugh void of any humor. His brown eyes tracked you as you walked towards the end of his hospital bed, furiously pacing and stressfully running your hands through your hair. He let out a deep exhale through his large broken nose and shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment as his face twisted up in anguish.

“Oh c’mon Y/N. Look I know you, alright? I know that you’re brave and you’re smart and you’re strong, but you are so goddamn stubborn and I cannot let you throw everything away for me.”

“So it's okay for you to risk everything, but not me?”

Frank’s features were contorted in exasperation tinged with frustration when he finally looked at you, and your own features were a convoluted tangle of irritation, despair, and treachery.

“C’mon, don’t do that, alright? It is not the same thing-”

“You’re not even gonna try-”

“You know what I am now, alright? You know what I did.”

The hardened edge to Frank’s rough voice caused any rebuttal to lodge in your throat. He was making you face it. That complicated truth you’d been wrestling with and trying to hide from, he was shining a light right on it and shoving it right in your face without mercy.

“I did it. I murdered all those people. That’s my life, that’s my world, and that’s what I do. You really wanna be a part of that?”

The familiar sting of saltwater started to burn in your weary eyes. Frank’s aggressive demeanor visibly softened seeing the glossy evidence of how he’d upset you. He was being a relentless asshole, and he knew it, but he thought it was for the best. The further away you were from him, the safer you were.

When you turned away from him, it tore through the remaining thin strings keeping Frank’s heart together. A faint sheen glimmered in his own eyes as he looked at the back of your head, and a devastating silence fell over the room. This time when he spoke, his voice came out quieter and much more gentle as he tried to reason with you.

“C’mon sweetheart, you…you know who I am-”

“I know you’re the man that’s saved my life more times than I can count.”

Turning back around, you looked at Frank with a heavy wave of tears threatening to spill over your lash line at any moment.

“And you’re the only person that I've ever been able to depend on, besides myself.”

There was a pleading look in Frank’s warm glossy brown eyes when he whispered your name, but you couldn’t stop.

“I know you’re the only person that’s ever taken the time to truly understand me. You listen to me. You support me and encourage me. You actually read my work. You put up with my shitty mood swings. You’re patient with me, even when I don’t deserve it. You remember things that I tell you. You make me laugh as much as you make me wanna rip my hair out. You frustrate me more than any person I have ever met in my entire life, and you push buttons that I didn't even know I had, but I have never felt happier than I do when I’m with you.”

Letting a few stray tears fall, you walked slowly around the edge of Frank’s bed, coming to stand by his side as you looked down into his warm brown eyes.

“I told you months ago, I’m safer with you. I meant it then, and I still mean it now. Okay everything…everything that’s happened…who you were…it doesn’t matter, okay? It doesn’t change anything, not for me. It doesn’t change how I see you or how I feel about you. Okay, it doesn’t change the fact that I-”

Your breath caught in your throat as the words that had been buried in your chest clawed their way to the surface. You had known since that day at the cabin. Deep down, a part of you had always known. In the midst of waiting for the perfect moment to finally say those words, and hiding from them in fear of saying them out loud, you almost didn’t get the chance to. For the last forty-eight hours, you’d been haunted by your own mistake.

You knew better. You knew time was too precious. You never got to tell your mom you loved her one last time, and you’d been so paralyzed by your own apprehension, you almost never got to tell Frank at all. You swore to yourself that if he woke up, if you got the chance, you weren’t going to waste it.

“-that I love you.”

Sometimes when Frank looked at you, it felt like he could see right into your soul, and at this very moment you wanted that to be true, because you desperately wanted him to know that’s where these words were coming from. You wanted him to feel it.

Frank swallowed thickly when he heard the crack in your voice, the irrevocable emotion in it, saying those words he didn’t think he deserved to hear. For a moment he was speechless, and all he could do was stare into your teary gaze.

Finally speaking the words that had been lingering in your heart for so long felt like a weight being lifted off your chest. You had been terrified that you would never get to say it back, that Frank would never know just how much you loved him. Now, you weren’t going to let him forget it. You weren’t going to let him push you away because of how he felt about himself. You weren’t going to let his past, or anything else, come between you. Not after all this time and everything the two of you had gone through just to get here.

When he opened his mouth to speak, you shook your head and cut him off.

“No. I don’t want to hear any more of this shit about walking away, because that’s not fucking happening. We’re gonna figure this out, and we’re gonna do it together. Do you understand me?”

Frank’s face fell slightly as he looked up at you, giving a subtle shake of his head with an apologetic look shining in his soft brown eyes.

“Sweetheart…there ain’t no warm, cozy ending. Not for me. Alright, when it gets out-”

“Do you really think Homeland Security is going to let it leak that they were involved in a cover up for the Punisher?”

Frank lightly clenched his jaw as he looked up at you, his eyes flickering over your face. That name had never bothered him when the media gave it to him, or when anyone else referred to him by it, but hearing it from you made his stomach twist with shame.

“Dinah doesn’t need to perform any miracles because not a single fucking person in that department is going to hang themselves out to dry like that. Homeland already has their story about what happened, and none of Billy's men are alive to contest it.”

“There’s Bill.”

“You cracked his head like a goddamn egg and his jaw is wired shut. Even when he heals, with they evidence they found on him, no one is going to listen to a fucking thing that comes out of his mouth. And Dinah is making it her personal mission from God to convict him with as many life sentences as New York will legally allow. So what’s your next excuse?”

Frank arched one of his dark brows at your snappy tone, noticing that the sadness that had previously been lingering on your face completely transitioned into a familiar expression of firm stubbornness he was used to seeing in you. His eyes dropped down to take in the way you’d placed your hands on your hips, a stance of yours he’d come to associate with defiance and rebellion. Flickering his gaze up to meet your challenging stare, amusement faintly crinkled around his eyes.

“Guess you got it all figured out, huh?”

“You were unconscious for two days.”

Frank let out of a puff of air past his lips at your deadpan response. Glancing away for a moment, he slowly shook his head before looking back up at you, his warm brown eyes roving over your figure. Cocking his head to the side, his tongue darted out to wet his lips as the ghost of a smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth.

“Ya’know, you’re kinda scary when you’re all pissed off. Sexy, but scary as hell. Anybody ever tell ya that?”

“If you think I'm scary, you should see my boyfriend.”

Frank straightened up a little as he looked at you, his warm brown eyes searching your gaze deeply. After a moment, he dropped his head to look down at the gray thin blanket covering his lower half, brushing his thumb over the clear plastic tube connected to the I.V. in his arm.

“You’re still lettin’ me keep that title, huh?”

Frank’s voice was quiet when he spoke, almost hesitant. Crossing your arms over your chest, you turned your head for a moment as you looked around the hospital room, dragging your teeth along your bottom lip before looking back down at him with a faint shrug of your shoulders.

“I can always demote you back to bodyguard, but I'm not paying you.”

Frank let out a deep chuckle, faint crinkles appearing around his eyes as he gave a subtle shake of his head.

“Nah, I don't want that.”

Lifting his head to look up at you again, his warm brown eyes flickered over your face. He slowly reached out to grab your arm and gave it a gentle tug, prompting you to uncross your arms. His warm calloused hand gradually caressed your arm from your elbow down to your wrist, taking your hand to hold gently, but tightly, like he needed your touch to ground himself in this moment, and to anchor himself to the idea that you still wanted him.

He couldn’t wrap his head around it, and you could see a flicker of hesitation in his concentrated gaze as he stared down at your hand, brushing his thumb along the back of it. Letting out a soft exhale through your nose, you gave his hand a faint squeeze of reassurance, and you opened your mouth to speak, but abruptly paused when you saw Frank slip his free hand down beneath the collar of his hospital gown. His hand was in a loose fist when he pulled it back out, slipping the chain from around his neck and over his head. When he opened his palm, he stared down at the gold wedding band silently.

A soft crease of confusion nestled between your brows when he let go of your hand, but before you could say anything, he reached for your left hand and pulled it towards his chest. A sharp gasp caught in your throat when Frank slowly slipped the golden band onto your ring finger, brushing his thumb over it gently. It was entirely too large for your finger, but Frank grasped your hand in his gently so the ring wouldn’t slip off.

Lifting his head to meet your stunned expression, there was a softness in his warm brown eyes and a nervous smile on his lips as he lightly squeezed your hand. He guided your palm to rest on his chest over his heart and covered it with his other hand.

“Think I’d like a promotion better.”

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawksfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

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whenthep8wn · 4 months ago

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thinking about ex!logan and boyfriend!matt… i may be cooking up something

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whenthep8wn · 4 months ago

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why do gay people have to be weird

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whenthep8wn · 4 months ago

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i love you

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: everything has led to this.

warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, blood, & weapons, all the angst in the world (like all of it)

word count: 6.6k

a/n: i think this is the longest chapter to date, & definitely the most jam packed. grab a snack, a blanket, some tissues, & settle in. i can't accept your therapy invoices, but i will be here to provide comfort after. :) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[previous chapter] | [series masterlist]

As dozens of Billy’s men filled the expansive underground space you were in, your ears picked up on several different sounds. The click of clips being loaded into guns, the rip of velcro straps on kevlar being pried open, the hiss of steel being sharpened to a fatal point. However your brain could barely focus on any of those sounds because the only ones that registered were the murmurs of casual conversations and the easy laughter that followed crude jokes.

These men might as well have been lingering around at a bar with a drink in their hand, not gearing up to go up against one of their own. Whether they were doing it out of loyalty to Billy, or just for the impressive paycheck waiting for them, you knew some of these egotistical fucks were doing it so they could be the one to say they did the impossible; to be able to say they brought down the Punisher.

Some of their faces you recognized from working with Frank when he was your bodyguard, trading off shifts with him, and providing extra detail when needed. It was a nauseating feeling realizing the entire time you thought you were being protected from the Defenders of Freedom, you were in the presence of an even greater threat and didn’t know it. How many of these guys wouldn’t have even hesitated to flip on you for the right price and take you out themselves?

These men knew where you lived, where you worked, who you knew, where you got your fucking coffee every morning, everything about you and your routine. They were prepping to go up against Frank, but you knew not a single one of them would bat an eye if Billy gave the order to kill you once he got what he wanted. Your eyes flickered over to his tall form standing across the room, watching him bark out orders to a group of men that looked like they were buzzing with anticipation for all hell to break loose. Every single person in this room wanted Frank dead.

And it made you sick.

Your mind was still reeling from learning the truth about him, about his past and who he really was. It was like you couldn’t process it. All the pieces were there, connected into place, but your brain refused to see the picture on top. How could they be the same man?

Frank. Stubborn Frank that put up with your short fuse and shot back at your smartass remarks with his own. Thoughtful Frank that remembered your coffee order, that remembered every little thing you told him no matter how big or small, that neatly packed a bag for you full of your go to essentials and clothes when he brought you to Curtis. Sweet Frank that immediately apologized if he raised his voice too loud, that was going to sleep on the floor of a motel just to make sure you didn’t feel uncomfortable, that touched you like you were delicate glass he didn’t want to break.

Frank that had saved your life more times than you could count, and that had been by your side and protected you from everything he could for the last nine months.

That Frank, your Frank, was the same man that had been painted as a psychopath in the media for murdering thirty-seven people in cold blood.

“You still not talkin’ to me?”

Billy’s boots appeared in your line of sight, but you didn’t look up at him. After he’d forced you to put it all together, you’d completely shut down and gone silent. You weren’t even sure how long you’d been sitting in that chair still as a statue and mute while Billy and his men prepared for Frank’s arrival. While you were struggling to process the bombshell he’d dropped, one question kept popping into your head.

“Why did you give me that file?”

“Thought you’d wanna know. Seein’ as how you were such a big fan and all, writin’ all those articles praisin’ him-”

“I didn’t praise him.”

Billy seemed pleased with himself that he’d finally gotten you to look at him and speak to him. The cocky smirk that fleeted across his lips reignited a flame of resentment within you.

“You sure as hell didn’t condemn him neither.”

Clenching your jaw and setting your lips in a firm line, you looked away from Billy, glaring straight ahead. Your lack of response and attention made his smirk slip, and he let out an exhale of irritation through his nose while looking down at you.

“You know, I really thought you understood.”

Rolling your eyes in exasperation, you looked up at Billy in pinched cynicism and snapped at him.

“Understood what?”

“That things ain’t always black and white. That most things happen in that little gray area, where it gets a little messy. It ain’t always-”

“Oh shut the fuck up, William. Don’t try to preach at me to make yourself feel better about whatever shitty thing you did. I don’t wanna hear it.”

Billy’s eyes darkened at your sharp verbal lashing. He stood up a little straighter and squared his shoulders, his lips pressed together in a bitter line. He watched you turn your head and glower down at the floor as if it had personally wronged you, and he noticed how your bound hands slightly trembled from how pissed off you were. It was a complete 180 from your catatonic state five minutes earlier. He would’ve found it amusing if he wasn’t so annoyed.

Suddenly the lights went out, and the underground space went pitch black. The darkness was so opaque, you couldn’t even see your own hands when you looked down in their general direction. A murmur of confusion and irritation spread throughout Billy’s men, and the sound of guns being cocked and knives being unsheathed seemed to echo in the stillness.

Not even a minute later, there was a loud click as the emergency lights from the backup generator switched on. It took your eyes a moment to adjust to the dull light coming from the intermittently spaced fixtures. All of Billy’s men were looking between each other and the various exit points in the underground basement that were shrouded in ominous shadows. Billy shifted quickly into a more guarded stance, his eyes hard and jaw taut while turning his attention to the man standing closest to his left.

“Carson, take your men and check the breakers. Power station’s on the south side.”

“Yes sir.”

As the team of six disappeared down the hallway on the far right, Billy turned to face the remaining group of his men with a stern expression.

“Alpha team, you’re on the North exits. Bravo, you’re on the South. When Carson gets me an update on those breakers, Echo I want a rooftop visual. You know who’s coming. You know your orders.”

“Kill Castle.”

A blonde man you didn’t recognize had a cocky grin on his thin chapped lips, emphasizing his point by cocking his gun.

“He ain’t gonna hesitate to kill you.”

Some of the men exchanged glances at that statement before looking at Billy with a nod of affirmation. His dark brown eyes flickered over each of them, looking for any sign of fear or weakness.

“He does not leave here alive. You do whatever you gotta do to bring him down. Watch your six. Remember, there’s half a million waitin’ for whoever brings me the body.”

Frantically glancing between Billy and his men as they fully geared up, you gripped the arms of the chair while looking up at Billy in a mixture of incredulity and confusion. You thought Billy had brought his men in for defense. It was evident none of them had a problem killing Frank, but you assumed the whole point of their presence was to protect Billy, and to force Frank to surrender by outnumbering him so that Billy could trade for the intel. If they killed him on sight, Billy wouldn’t have any way to get what Frank found.

“I thought you said this was a trade.”

Turning his head to look down in your direction, Billy could see the clear panic on your face. There was a wicked gleam in Billy’s eyes as a sardonic smirk slowly tugged at the edge of his lips.

“Nah, sweetheart. It’s a trap.”

An icy trickle of dread cascaded down your spine rapidly and your breath hitched in your throat. Billy didn’t give a shit about what Frank had on him. He hadn’t brought him here to bargain. He’d lured him into an execution, using you as bait.

A cacophony of rapid gunfire and shouting unexpectedly echoed from the hallway on the far right that Carson’s team had disappeared down, and everyone’s heads immediately snapped in that direction. Billy’s smirk swiftly dropped from his mouth, and he quickly went rigid. But before anyone could even react, the resonation of bullets ricocheting and panicked yells abruptly stopped, and it went dead silent.

The previous arrogant attitude the remaining men had up until that moment seemed to rapidly evaporate, and their heavy breathing and wide eyed gazes betrayed their true apprehension as the reality of the situation sobered up their egos. They knew what that sound meant. They knew who it meant.

And so did Billy.

“Get to your positions.”

Billy’s dark eyes flickered over his men with a hardened glare when they didn’t move quickly enough, and his voice reverberated off the walls when he yelled.

“Now!”

Immediately, they started to disperse like scurrying ants, and the sound of their boots hitting the concrete floor in every direction echoed like claps of thunder. When you looked up at Billy again, you saw something in him you’d never seen before, something you didn’t even think he was capable of.

Fear.

At first the sound was so soft and quiet that when Billy looked down at you and saw your head tilted downwards and your shoulders faintly shaking, he thought you were crying. But when it grew louder in volume, Billy’s short lived concern turned into pure irritation as it became clear that you weren’t crying.

You were laughing.

The edge of his lips curled into a faint snarl as he lunged at you, slipping his hand into your hair to roughly yank your head backwards which earned a grunt of pain from you. Billy’s nose was barely half an inch from yours as he bent down and glared at you.

“What the hell is so funny?”

Staring him down with equal animosity, your lips slowly spread into a wide and wicked grin. Leaning in even closer to get in his face as much as he was in yours, you spoke in a harsh taunting tone laced with venom.

“You are so fucked.”

Billy stared into your eyes, seeing nothing in them but pure stubborn rage. His own lips spread into a dark smirk, and he let go of your hair to wrap his hand around your throat instead, making a point to apply just enough pressure to make you inhale sharply. He could feel the thrum of your rapid pulse against his fingers, and his breath was warm against your lips when he leaned in closer.

“Nah, that’s where you’re wrong darlin’. I got you.”

The sound of a knife being unsheathed was sharp in your ears, and the glint of a blade reflected in your eyes as Billy held the serrated steel in front of your face. Cocking his head to the side menacingly, he dragged the flat side of it down your slightly heaving chest slowly. He kept his eyes locked on yours, and you refused to look away. A crisp rip suddenly sounded, and the pressure on your wrists was gone as he cut your restraints.

“As long as I got you, I’m gettin’ outta here.”

Narrowing your eyes, you glared at Billy as he bent down to cut the restraints around your legs. When he rose to his full height, he slipped the knife back into the sheath on his hip and reached out to grab your arm tightly, tugging you up to your feet roughly.

“C’mon, you’re with me.”

When he took a step forward, you yanked your arm out of his grasp, glowering up at him as you raised your chin defiantly and spoke through your teeth.

“Pussy.”

Billy’s eyes flickered with both annoyance and amusement. He slipped his gun out of his holster and held it at his side, gesturing in your direction with his chin.

“Think I liked you better all tied up.”

“Yeah I'm sure you did.”

Ignoring your challenging stare, Billy grabbed your arm harshly again and started pushing you towards one of the exits that led down a long tunnel like hallway. The emergency backup lights lit up the path enough to navigate, but there were gaps of shadowed darkness in between them. You still had no idea exactly where you were, but it looked like some kind of abandoned warehouse or factory.

You struggled to keep up with the large stride of Billy’s long legs as he practically dragged you along with him. His eyes were focused straight ahead, his hand gripped tightly around the handle of the gun in his other hand, his index finger resting on the trigger.

“Where the hell are you taking me?”

“Be quiet.”

Your eyes flickered down to the knife in the sheath on Billy’s hip. As your gaze darted quickly between the knife and Billy’s focused face, you took advantage of his diverted attention and impulsively reached for the handle to yank it out. The force of the movement caught Billy off guard and made his grip on your arm falter for a second. Ripping your arm away from his grip, you quickly took a few steps backwards and pointed the sharp tip of the knife in his direction.

A crease formed between Billy’s dark brows as he glanced between the knife in your hand and the empty sheath on his hip before an expression of annoyed realization dawned on his sharp features. Letting out a deep exhale of irritation through his nose, Billy lifted his head and looked at you in pure vexation, clearly not feeling threatened by you in the slightest.

“Why are you so goddamn difficult? Gimme that.”

Billy held out his hand expectantly. Looking down at his outstretched palm, you lifted your gaze and glared up at him as you tightened your grip on the handle and grit through your teeth.

“No.”

Clenching his jaw in frustration, Billy took a step closer and cocked the hammer on his gun.

“Sweetheart, now ain’t the time-”

“You need me. You’re not gonna shoot me-”

Billy took another step forward and aimed his gun at your thigh, glowering down at you with a hardened look in his eyes.

“Not in the head, but if you don’t give me that goddamn knife back and stop bein’ so fuckin’ difficult, you’re gonna be crawlin’ outta here.”

Staring up into his darkened eyes, your heart was pounding in your chest. You knew Billy was serious, and it made the adrenaline induced confidence in you falter. He could see that he’d unnerved you with his threat. He took another predatory step forward and held out his hand expectantly once again.

“Now, we’re gonna do this nice and-”

“Russo!”

Both of you instantly snapped your heads towards the other side of the dark hallway shrouded in unfiltered blackness as a familiar deep voice boomed from the end of it. The volume and intensity behind the war cry seemed to rattle your bones and left you frozen in place. Billy expertly swiped the knife from your grasp in a flash, pressing the serrated blade against your throat before you could even blink. He pointed his gun towards the end of the darkened hallway, his stance rigid.

“That you, Frankie?”

The sound of heavy boots against the concrete slowly started to grow louder as they traveled down the hall in your direction. You knew who they belonged to. You’d recognize those footsteps anywhere. Your heart seemed to pound just as loudly in your ears as they got closer and closer. Swallowing thickly, the movement made the blade just barely cut into your skin, but you couldn’t even feel it from the adrenaline coursing through you. All at once, a sharp gasp escaped your lips and your eyes went wide.

A white skull spontaneously appeared in the darkness, floating through it like an apparition. As it came closer, you could see that it was worn and faded, darkened with dirt and grime, coated in several deep red streaks and splatters of fresh blood with various bullets lodged into it. A merciless and unforgiving symbol of wrath and vengeance the worst of the worst in New York had learned to fear.

Time seemed to stand still when he stepped out of the shadows, and your blood ran cold when you were face to face with the Punisher for the first time.

Frank.

His large hands were covered in blood, and his knuckles were split and bruised. Deep shades of violet were blooming on his left cheek and around a fresh cut that was bleeding on his right cheekbone. There was a small split on the bridge of his large nose, and one on the left side of his top lip. The dim light above cast menacing shadows on his bruised and bloodied face, emphasizing the storm of rage brewing in his eyes.

Frank stopped directly under the light, just a few feet away. You thought you’d seen Frank pissed before, but the way he was staring at Billy made you shudder. He was furious. The anger radiating off of him in waves was palpable.

“It didn't have to be like this, Frankie.”

Frank’s index and middle finger on his right hand twitched twice as he spoke in his gruff voice.

“It wouldn’t be if Madani hadn’t been right.”

“Surprised she trusted you at all. You were there in Kandahar, Frank. Hell, you’re the one that pulled the fuckin’ trigger on her partner. She know that?”

“I was followin’ orders. You were workin’ with Rawlins and Schoonover, sellin’ out your honor. For what, Bill? Money?”

Hearing the blatant disgust in Frank’s voice, Billy tightened his grip around the handle of the gun and the handle of the blade simultaneously.

“You shoulda just left it alone, Frankie. But you chose that bitch Madani over me.”

Frank tilted his head to the side slightly, his dark brows and face scrunched in a concoction of disappointment and anguish as he looked at Billy.

“You think I wanted to believe her, Bill? You think I wasn’t lookin’ for somethin’ to prove her wrong, huh? You think I wasn’t hopin’ to God I’d find nothin’?”

The despair laced within Frank’s rough voice killed you.

“You shoulda come to me. I was your brother, Frankie. All of this, it was unavoidable.”

Billy gestured between you and Frank with his gun before aiming it at Frank again. Frank hadn’t looked at you once. His attention was solely focused on Billy. The second those words left Billy’s mouth, you saw the way Frank’s face slowly morphed into a forlorn portrait streaked in betrayal.

“Was killin’ my family unavoidable?”

Frank’s grief stricken question felt like an electric shock. Snapping your head to look up at Billy, you watched as he visibly stiffened, his grip on both weapons faltering as his face fell slightly.

“You do it, Bill?”

Billy wouldn’t meet Frank’s eye, or yours. He dropped his gaze downwards, and what appalled you was his lack of a reaction. He didn’t look guilty. He didn’t try to deter Frank’s accusation or defend himself at all, didn’t offer any kind of correction or explanation. He was standing there quietly like Frank hadn’t just dropped a grenade of trauma between them.

“Look at me. Look at me!”

Frank’s loud voice booming once again made you flinch, and Billy finally lifted his head to look at him. Standing up straighter, Billy looked at Frank with unnerving calmness.

“I didn’t pull the trigger-”

“But you knew about it.”

Frank’s voice had been reduced to a wavering whisper. The dim light above highlighted the way his brown eyes had glossed over with treachery that threatened to spill at any second. The pain in his gaze and in his voice brought tears to your own eyes as you looked at him. Billy plastered an impassive look on his sharp features, giving a faint nod of his head and speaking with as much nonchalance as if he was discussing the weather.

“Yeah, I knew.”

Frank closed his eyes solemnly, a stray tear slipping down each of his cheeks, the clear droplets turning pastel pink as they mixed with the deep crimson stains of blood lingering on his face. Inhaling sharply, when Frank opened his eyes again, he looked away for a moment, his eyes darting back and forth rapidly as a muscle feathered in his jaw. His nostrils flared and his lips twitched as he faintly shook his head in denial and disbelief.

“She loved you. My kids loved you.”

“It was just business-”

“It wasn’t business when my kids were callin’ you ‘Uncle Billy’. It wasn’t business when Maria was makin’ sure you had somewhere to spend the holidays. It wasn’t business when I heard my family screamin’ for me. When I saw my wife and my boy…layin’ dead in the grass. When I held my baby girl in my arms, seein’ blood and meat pourin’ out of where her face should be.”

Billy’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he appeared to swallow down even the slightest flicker of remorse. Frank’s bloodied and beaten face was stoic, but his eyes gave away how distraught he was knowing that Billy had been involved in orchestrating the massacre of his family. It hadn’t been an inopportune tragedy getting caught in the middle of a shootout. It had been a premeditated execution. The bullet in Frank’s head was meant to be a killshot.

When Frank lifted his gaze and looked at Billy again, there was nothing but pure hatred left.

“No. It wasn’t just business then, Bill, and it sure as hell ain’t just business now. It’s pretty goddamn personal.”

“I never wanted this-”

“Yeah, well you got it.”

Frank’s bereavement had evaporated from the blaze of retribution that was now burning in his eyes. Billy watched as Frank physically morphed from a brokenhearted man in mourning into a vengeful memento mori right before his eyes. The reality of what Billy had done was so much worse than your wildest imagination could’ve ever conjured. It burned through the short fuse of your temper, and as a surge of adrenaline shot through your nervous system, you shoved the knife away from your throat while Billy was distracted. As soon as he turned his head in your direction, you struck your fist across his face, not even feeling the sharp pain that pierced your knuckles.

“You fucking coward.”

The unexpected impact made Billy stumble a half step backwards, dropping the knife that was in his other hand as it came up to clutch his jaw. He swiftly recovered from the hit and turned the gun on you.

“Whoa whoa whoa, easy there, killer. Let’s calm that little temper down. I’d hate to ruin that pretty face-”

Taking a step closer towards the gun aimed at your chest, you stared him down and bared your teeth in a faint snarl.

“Go ahead. It’ll be nothing compared to what he’s gonna do to yours.”

Billy visibly stiffened at your razor sharp taunt, and his eyes darkened as he stared down at you. Cocking his head to the side slightly, there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he suddenly chuckled darkly at your fearless rage.

“Goddamn, Frankie. She this feisty in bed?”

“The hell are you doin’?”

At first you didn’t realize that Frank was talking to you. In the midst of your unfiltered anger, you were still glaring up at Billy. It wasn’t until Frank called your name in a harsh reprimand that you turned to look at him and saw that he was finally looking at you. A flash of confusion interrupted your adrenaline induced wrath noticing that his anger seemed to now be directed at you instead of Billy.

“What?”

“I said what the hell are you doin’? He’s got a goddamn gun, Y/N-”

“Yeah I can see that, it’s pointed at my fucking face.”

Frank clenched his jaw when you snapped at him with equal frustration. He let out a puff of air through his lips and shook his head as he glanced around in pure irritation.

“For Christ’s sake, you never fuckin’ listen, do ya? You’re always runnin’ your goddamn mouth instead of doin’ what you’re told. What’d I say, huh?”

A look of raw hurt and puzzled betrayal crossed your face when Frank yelled at you. You were taken aback by the hostility in his gaze and in his voice. He was staring you down in a way that almost made you shudder.

“I told you keep your distance, yeah? I said stay offline. But you just push, you can’t ever let go of that need for control, can you? And now look at you, underneath all this shit, got your panties all in a fuckin’ twist. You never hesitate, do ya? Just like that day in the cabin.”

Frank’s angry tirade sent such an unexpected shock through you, it took you a moment to register what he was actually saying, but the mention of the cabin abruptly made it click and a light bulb seemed to go off when you realized what Frank was doing.

Distance. Offline. Push. Control. Underneath. Twist. Never hesitate.

“You always aim for my goddamn nerves.”

Frank roughly smacked his palm against his own shoulder in what looked like a display of frustration, but you understood what it really meant.

“Just do what I said. You got that?”

He stared at you with a look in his eyes only you could decipher, a silent communication passing between the two of you, and you steeled your expression as you swallowed thickly and gave him a subtle but imperceptible nod.

“Yeah. I got it.”

“Show me.”

Billy had been looking between you and Frank, amused by your little lover's quarrel. Frank’s final words made his dark brows furrow in curiosity, and when he turned his head to look at him, you quickly surged forward and gripped the barrel of the gun in your left hand, pushing it away from you and slipping your right hand under Billy’s wrist. Twisting the barrel forcefully to the right, Billy grunted as his wrist unexpectedly twisted with it forcing his grip to loosen. The second you pulled it away from his grasp and stepped back, he lunged forward, and you fired a shot right at his shoulder.

“Fuck!”

Billy’s back collided with the wall behind him when the bullet ripped through his right shoulder, his hand immediately coming up to apply pressure. Before the shock of what you’d just done could even register, Frank rushed forward and nearly tackled you as he wrapped his arms around your frame and forced you forward into a sprint. He dragged you down another hallway, and by the time you finally stopped running, your lungs were burning and your hands were trembling.

Frank grabbed you by your shoulders, ducking his head to capture your frantic gaze.

“Listen to me, I need you to run.”

Staring up at him wide eyed, a crease of confusion nestled between your brows.

“What?”

“Madani’s waitin’ outside, Homeland’s got the place surrounded. Take this hallway all the way down. You run, and you don’t look back for nothin’, you got that?”

Your eyes darted back and forth between Frank’s rapidly. Your brain was still trying to process everything that had just happened, but the thought of leaving Frank seemed to snap you out of your shock. A stubborn look of refusal contorted your features as you looked up at him.

“Wha-no. No, I’m not leaving you-”

Frank cupped your face in his large hands and stared down into your eyes with a pleading expression.

“Hey…hey, listen to me sweetheart, listen. I gotta finish this. I can’t…I can’t let it go.”

Frank paused as he swallowed thickly and looked down at you, a sheen of remorse shining in his apologetic expression. His next words felt like a shot to the chest.

“And you can’t stay. You gotta go, you gotta walk away.”

The second those words left his lips, it felt like the breath had been knocked out of your lungs. You immediately started to shake your head in refusal.

“Frank-”

“Go, now.”

“Frank, don’t do this-”

Frank leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and you hated how much it felt like a goodbye. When he pulled back, he looked down at you with a tender expression and somber swirls in his warm brown eyes. His voice was the softest you’d ever heard it when he traced his thumb over your cheekbone gently.

“I love you, you got that? I love you, but you gotta walk away.”

Tears immediately sprang in your eyes as you slowly shook your head and begged him in a desperate whisper.

“Frank please-”

“Hey, shh shh shh.”

He leaned in and pressed his lips against your forehead in a delicate show of affection, allowing them to linger for a moment before he let go and took a step backwards.

“You gotta do this for me, baby. Please. Please, just this once, do what I ask.”

As soon as he stepped backwards, you stepped forwards and instinctively reached for his hand, gripping onto it tightly. Tears slipped past your bottom lash line while you looked up at him with raw emotion in your eyes, silently begging him not to go.

“Go.”

Frank spoke in a gentle voice, giving your hand a faint squeeze before pulling his away, the blood that had been on his hand now staining yours. Without another word or glance, he turned to walk away, determined to find Billy and finish this. All you could do was watch him disappear, standing right where he left you, feeling like you’d just been shattered into a thousand helpless pieces.

With tears streaming down your face, you could feel panic start to rise in your chest. Turning to look down at the other end of the hallway, your fight or flight seemed to kick in and you started to run frantically. Just as you rounded one of the corners, one of Billy’s men popped out, drawing his rifle on you. Quickly you aimed the gun in your hand back at him, but before either of you could shoot, something suddenly flew out of nowhere and knocked the guy out.

He dropped to the ground with a thud, and you whirled around to aim the gun in your hands towards the shadow it had come from. Your breathing was ragged, and your hands were shaking as you gripped the handle until your knuckles turned stark white. A deep voice suddenly sounded from the darkness.

“Easy, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Soft footsteps approached, and out of the dark shadows, a pair of dark red horns glinted under the light.

Daredevil.

Your eyes widened as he came into the light, his gloved hands help up in a show of surrender. You were completely stunned as he took cautious steps forward until he was in front of you, reaching out with one hand to gently place it on top of the barrel of the gun, slowly lowering it down.

“Go all the way towards the end of the hall. There’s an exit on your right.”

A look of confusion crossed your features as you glanced down the darkened hallway before looking back up at him. He’d come from an entirely different direction.

“How do you-”

“Just trust me.”

Staring up into the dark lenses of his cowl, you turned your head to look back in the direction of where you’d just run from, where Frank had disappeared. All at once, the gravity of the situation felt too heavy, and you almost buckled under it.

“I…I can’t. I can’t.”

“You need to leave-”

“I can’t leave him.”

Hearing how panicked your breathing was starting to become, he stepped forward, gently grabbing your shoulders to get your attention, and you looked up at him in blurry hopelessness.

“Listen to me, I'm not gonna let anything happen to him, alright? I promise.”

You couldn’t move. The daunting possibility of losing Frank was overwhelming. This whole thing felt like a devastating nightmare you desperately wanted to wake up from. Feeling your hesitation, Daredevil gently squeezed your shoulders again and spoke in an even softer voice.

“Y/N, Frank asked me to help keep you safe. Please let me do that.”

The way he said your name ignited a spark of recognition in your head, and it had a calming effect. You knew that voice. You’d heard it before. Something about him seemed…familiar, and not just because you’d covered articles about the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Something about the way he said Frank’s name sounded familiar too. Letting your eyes wander over his figure in the red and black suit, the gears started turning in your head as you studied the bottom half of his face that wasn’t covered.

“Say his name again.”

“What?”

“Just say it.”

Even with half of his face covered, you could tell that he was clearly puzzled by your request.

“Frank.”

Immediately, it hit you like a bolt of lightning. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him in shock, a breathless whisper of his name leaving your lips in disbelief.

“Matt?”

His plump lips parted, and he pulled back as he stood up straight, tilting his head to the side slightly. Before he could stammer out a response, he abruptly turned his to the left, and he dropped his hands from your shoulders.

“There's seven heavily armed men coming this way.”

Turning your head, you stared down the darkened hallway he was looking at in puzzlement. You couldn’t see or hear anything. Looking back up at him, you blinked a few times before tilting your head to the side and staring up at him in complete bewilderment.

“What? How the fuck do you-”

“It’s complicated.”

“Like being a blind lawyer but also Daredevil.”

Matt pursed his lips at your dry tone and sass. He took a step away from you and bent down to pick up the baton up off the floor next to the unconscious man.

“Down the hall. Exit on the right. Go.”

Watching him pull out another baton, you threw your hands up in exasperation, still gripping onto the gun in your hand.

“And what the hell are you gonna do? You said there’s heavily armed men coming and you’re gonna, what? Throw your sticks at them?”

Matt cocked his head to the side as he glanced in your direction, slightly amused by your irritated skepticism.

“They’re batons.”

“Oh, excuse me. Batons. You’re gonna throw your batons at the group of ex-special forces coming this way with automatic weapons.”

A cocky smirk stretched across his lips at your dry sarcasm, and he started to walk backwards.

“Have a little faith, sweetheart.”

When he took off running down the hall, you ran your hand stressfully through your hair, glancing around in complete disbelief. Your boyfriend was the Punisher. Your lawyer was Daredevil. And you were at your wit’s fucking end.

“What the fuck is going on.”

The second you pushed the door open to the exit that led outside, a blinding flash of light had you bringing your hands up to your face, including the one still holding the gun. A swarm of agents wearing protective gear and aiming guns in your direction swiftly rushed towards you, yelling out orders that had you freezing.

“Drop the weapon! Drop it now!”

In a panic, you quickly dropped the gun and held your hands up in surrender. There were police cars, S.W.A.T. trucks, helicopters floating above, and dozens upon dozens of various officers and agents surrounding the area. They were yelling at you to get down on the ground, and you were glancing between all of them anxiously, feeling like you were about to start hyperventilating as you tried to stutter out an explanation.

Before you could get your limbs to work again and comply, a familiar voice carried over the aggressive demands.

“Stand down, now!”

Madani forcefully broke through the line of agents that had you surrounded, shoving her gun into the holster on her hip as she all but ran over towards you. Her brown eyes scanned over you intensely, quickly assessing for any sign of damage or injury.

“What happened? Is Billy still in there? Where’s Frank?”

“I…I shot him.”

A crease of perplexity formed between Madani’s dark brows hearing your shaky response.

“What? You shot who?”

“Billy.”

Madani arched one of her dark brows in surprise, and what looked like a hint of pride. She took a step closer, lowering her voice.

“Is he dead?”

The anxiety coursing through your system was cresting, threatening to crash over you and trap you beneath the tide. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and you were shaking uncontrollably.

“I don’t…I don’t know.”

Madani reached out to grab your arms, giving them a reassuring squeeze as she attempted to keep you calm while she looked at you.

“Y/N, where’s Frank?”

“He-”

All at once you froze. Madani felt you freeze up, and her brown eyes were darting back and forth between your own rapidly for an answer when she saw your eyes go wide with recognition and shock. She called your name again, but it was muffled in your ears and distant, like your head was underwater. A shaky whisper slipped past your lips as they parted.

“I didn't say it back.”

Madani was watching you intently, trying desperately to figure out what was going on and what had happened.

“Didn’t say what back? What are you talking about?”

In an instant, your eyes welled up with thick tears that turned Madani into a blurry silhouette, and you gripped onto her as though someone had punched a hole through your chest and ripped your heart right out. A choked sob caught in your throat when the gravity of what you had missed hit you with enough force to send a crack through your soul.

“I didn’t say it back, Dinah.”

Turning your head to look back at the abandoned factory behind you, the burden of your mistake fractured your rib cage, and a tide of agony and regret burst through the broken pieces like a wrathful flood. Madani caught you in her arms as you collapsed against her, pulling you into her chest when you succumbed to the grief and completely broke down in tears, letting out a wail of his name that tore through your throat and left it raw.

Frank had told you he loved you, and you didn’t say it back.

You didn’t know if you’d ever get the chance to.

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whenthep8wn · 4 months ago

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- cherry wine is about domestic abuse. it’s now called a cute proposal song.

- too sweet is about seizing the day and ignoring healthy habits in favor of having more fun with unhealthy ones. he’s actively critical of himself in the song. it’s now called a song about thinking you’re superior for drinking black coffee.

- take me to church is about worship as a metaphor for sex. it’s called a religious song.

- eat your young is a song about war and political greed. it’s called a song about sex.

- now, the strongly political message of nobody’s soldier is being ignored in favor of calling it a metaphor for hozier’s relationship with his fans.

when are we going to stop simplifying hozier’s music down to cute little cottagecore bogman forest music? maybe you dont want to hear this but i don’t care. quit listening to hozier for the aesthetic. there’s a reason why empire now, foreigner’s god, butchered tongue, etc. songs with unignorable political messages are among his least popular songs.

38K notes · View notes

whenthep8wn · 5 months ago

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revelation

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: billy's questioning leads to more than one epiphany you weren't ready for.

warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, lots of angst, billy being the shithead he is

word count: 4.2k

a/n: I know y'all were big mad at me last update. I don't know if this one makes up for it or not. but...enjoy. :) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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Flickers of flesh colored light began to flash in your brain. It was as if each of your senses were rebooting one by one, your body slowly clawing its way out of the darkened abyss you’d been lost in. Murmurs of conversation and clinks of metal crept into your eardrums. While that sickly sweet artificial chemical taste lingered on your tongue, a dull throbbing was emanating from the back of your head. Trying to inhale a deep breath, a familiar strong cologne seemed to flip the switch of consciousness.

“Ah, there she is.”

As your eyes fluttered open, you fought through the haze of disorientation, forcing your vision to clear. A blur of green approached slowly, and after blinking a few times, the fuzzy silhouette came into focus. Billy knelt down in front of you, a serpentine smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth.

Your bones felt like they were made of stone, but when you tried to move, you realized it wasn’t just a mental restriction, but also a physical one. Glancing downwards, you saw that your wrists and legs had been bound to the chair you were in with black leather straps. White hot rage struck through your nervous system like a bolt of lightning.

“What the hell is going on?”

“You tell me.”

“I'm the one tied to a chair here, asshole.”

Billy let out an amused chuckle at your sharp snap, his dark brown eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Just a precaution, darlin’. I've seen you in action, and I like my face the way it is.”

Narrowing your eyes in resentment, your lips were set in a tight line as you clenched your jaw while simultaneously clenching your fists. Billy’s eyes flickered down to your hands before returning to your heated glare, and he let out a deep exhale through his nose. Standing up fully, he grabbed a wooden crate to his left and dragged it over towards you. After sitting down on the edge of it and folding his arms over his chest, he gave a faint nod of his head in your direction.

“I need to know what you know.”

“About what?”

“Frank and Madani.”

Pure annoyance laced with confusion quickly creased between your brows, and your exasperation was evident in your tone.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Billy. That’s what this is about? I told you I don't know anything. Okay, whatever you and Madani have Frank working on-”

Billy suddenly cut you off, snapping his fingers before pointing his index finger in your direction.

“Ah, see, that right there. Madani and I don't work together. We never have. Anvil has a contract with Homeland, but my business is with them, not her.”

Billy paused for a moment, letting those words linger in the air. He searched your face for any flicker of recognition that would give you away, but all he could see in your expression was perplexity. And that you were royally pissed off. Either you had one hell of a poker face, or you truly didn’t know anything. He was determined to find out.

“And I haven't assigned anything to Frank in almost two months, because he told me he needed some personal time to take care of somethin’. So imagine my surprise when you tell me that he’s got some business goin’ on with me and Madani.”

Every word that left Billy’s lips left you feeling confused. It was like he was single handedly ripping up the pieces of what you thought you knew regarding this entire situation with Frank. The ferocity of your anger dulled slightly, becoming overshadowed by disillusionment.

“I…I don't understand.”

“Well that makes two of us.”

In an instant, your brain began to replay every single conversation with Frank over the last two months, trying to figure out what you were missing. You could feel in your gut that the answer was right in front of your face, but you were struggling to figure it out, and it left you feeling immensely frustrated. Dropping your gaze to the concrete floor beneath your feet, your eyes darted back and forth, like you were reading some invisible text written in the cracks.

I’m helpin’ Madani with somethin’.

It’s personal.

Those were the key phrases that kept popping up in your head. They were the ones sticking out from the rest, and your foggy brain was relentlessly trying to figure out why. Closing your eyes, you tried to shift your mindset. You had to treat this like a story. You had to walk through what you knew, sort through the pieces Frank had given you, and connect the red string on the mental evidence board in your brain.

Thinking back to the conversation where you’d confronted Frank at his apartment about his strange behavior, you willed your brain to focus on what he’d said, and how he said it.

“He…he said he had a new assignment.”

Billy had been watching you closely, paying attention to the flash of varying emotions crossing your face. He could see that you were trying to figure something out in your head, and your words made him sit up straighter.

“What did he say the assignment was?”

You remembered Frank looking remorseful as he sat on his couch, trying to explain the situation, but he had also looked…guarded. He didn’t maintain eye contact with you the entire time, which was strange, and when he did look at you, there had been something in his eyes besides guilt. It was a flicker of something you couldn’t decipher, because he was hiding it from you. Whatever it was, he didn’t want you to see it.

“He didn’t. He just said it was personal. He wouldn’t tell me anything about it.”

“What did he tell you?”

That feeling of frustration you’d felt during that initial conversation bubbled up once again, and you let out an irritated exhale through your nose as you opened your eyes and tilted your head back to look upwards. Wherever Billy had you, it appeared to be underground. There weren’t any windows, and the fluorescent overhead lights were harsh, aggravating your sensitive eyes. You swiftly shut them again to block out the light, trying hard to conjure that memory of Frank once more.

But all you could see was your mother. The unpleasant glare above brought you back to a sterile hospital room, and instead of Frank’s deep voice, you heard the daunting beeping on the machines that had controlled her fate with their wires, and the struggle of her labored breathing. Her body had turned against her, stolen her time, but it hadn’t been able to take her feisty spirit.

Clenching your fists, you tried desperately to escape the memory, but your mother had always been as stubborn as you were. The phantom feeling of the chilled flesh that barely covered the bones of her hand touching your skin felt so real and vivid, you didn’t know if Billy had knocked you out again or not.

Her familiar voice from one of her last good moments, exhausted with illness, but still melodic with whimsy, played in your ears.

“Can you force the tide to come back to the shore?”

A furrow of confusion had settled between your brows at her interjection, and you’d refocused your attention from the book in your hands towards her.

“Did they up your meds?”

“Ha ha ha, smartass.”

Setting down the book you’d been reading her, you smiled at ever present sarcasm, and you’d rolled your eyes playfully.

“No mom, I can’t force the tide to come back to the shore.”

“And why is that?”

There had been a glimmer of playfulness in her eyes, even though they were slightly sunken in and surrounded by dark circles. You had resisted the urge to answer literally about gravity and the moon, and instead let her continue with whatever point she was trying to make.

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

She’d reached out and placed her hand on top of yours, and her skin had been so cool to the touch, felt so fragile, it had made your heart constrict in your chest.

“Because it comes on its own. You just have to be patient, and let it come to you.”

Patience had never been your strong suit, especially when it came to putting things together, or trying to figure something out. If something didn’t click fast enough, you would get frustrated and try to coerce it, to make it make sense, which usually never worked in your favor. It wasn’t until you stopped trying so hard and took a step back that you had your biggest breakthroughs. Clearly, it was a lesson you were still trying to learn.

“Y/N. What did Frank say-”

“Can you shut the hell up? I’m trying to think.”

Billy narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips when you snapped at him through your gritted teeth, but he obliged. Letting out a quiet shaky breath, you resisted the urge to give into the emotions building up behind your eyelids from that memory. You slowly unclenched your fists and relaxed your jaw.

Quit trying to force fragments together. Focus. Let it come to you.

Instead of rushing through the memories and waiting for the answers to pop out, you replayed them slowly, carefully analyzing over every frame, dissecting every word. Frank had been very cautious with his phrasing, but that wasn’t a coincidence.

I’m helpin’ Madani with somethin’.

Madani gave me some intel.

Madani needed someone she could trust.

“He said that he was helping Madani-”

Madani. Frank said he was helping Madani. Not once had Frank mentioned Billy. He had only ever said Dinah’s name.

Opening your eyes, you slowly lowered your head, looking straight forward at Billy. He arched one of his dark brows, an expectant look on his face.

“Said he was helpin’ Madani with what?”

For a moment you stared at Billy in complete silence. Something wasn’t right. As soon as you had let it slip in your office that Frank was working with Madani, Billy had physically reacted. There was something that had flashed in his eyes, darkening them to momentary blackness. His voice was cold when he’d questioned you about it, almost…angry. You’d initially thought it was because he thought you knew something you weren’t supposed to about Frank’s “assignment”.

But now you realized it was because he didn’t know about it.

“Why didn’t Frank tell you?”

There was unmistakable suspicion in your voice, and it visibly caught Billy off guard. He narrowed his eyes slightly, cocking his head to the side as he looked at you.

“That’s what I’m tryin’ to figure out.”

Frank hadn’t mentioned anything about what he was doing with Madani to Billy, his best friend. The man he served side by side with for years, had formed a brotherhood with, who he had considered part of his family. That made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and a dreadful chill straightened your spine. He hadn’t been able to tell you exactly what was going on, but he’d at least given you something.

Frank had mentioned owing Madani a debt, but he was loyal to a fault, and the fact that he hadn’t told Billy set off warning bells in your head. But Billy’s extreme reaction to being purposefully left in the dark was what set your nervous system ablaze with unease.

The idea of Frank working with Madani without his knowledge seemed to set Billy off, triggering a volatile chain of events. He’d drugged you, kidnapped you from Curtis’ apartment, was essentially holding you hostage, and now he was interrogating you to figure out what you knew.

One of Frank’s cryptic explanations abruptly parted through the lingering clouds of fogginess in your brain, shedding a blinding light on the most important piece that had been hidden in the shadows of your subconscious.

“Oh my God.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper and shrouded in disbelief.

It’s connected to someone I know.

You remembered how Frank had stiffened when he’d said that, how his face had hardened to stone. His voice had been quiet, layered with an ominous undertone and barely concealed vitriol. He’d nearly morphed into a man you didn’t recognize right in front of your eyes, and it had made you shiver with discomfort.

And suddenly it clicked. Betrayal. That cold flicker in his eyes he tried to hide was betrayal.

“It’s you.”

Billy watched as the canvas of your face morphed into a portrait of realization and horror.

He visibly stiffened at those words, his lips pressing into a firm line, emphasizing the sharpness of his jaw.

Billy. All of this was because of Billy. Whatever Madani had found, it was connected to him. That’s why she brought it to Frank. Little moments started to stand out in your head that made you wonder just how long ago Madani had planted the seed of doubt in Frank’s mind. Looking back, he’d acted strangely when you’d mentioned Billy’s name recently, but it was so subtle that you hadn’t even picked up on it.

But him being adamant about leaving you with Curtis, someone you’d never even heard about or met until yesterday, should've been a huge clue.

Knowing that what was causing the divide between you and Frank was none other than the man currently standing in front of you and whatever he had done, you were swiftly filled with an anger that turned your blood molten. Your disbelief and horror slowly hardened into a wall of ice, but your eyes were aflame with resentment.

“What did you do.”

It wasn’t a question, it was an accusation, and the way you grit it through your teeth demanded an answer. Billy’s eyes showed no hint of remorse, and he made no attempt to correct whatever conclusions you were drawing in your head in regards to his character. He rose to his feet, taking a step forward to tower over you, staring down into the flames of rancor blazing in your eyes with a steely gaze of his own.

“I made something of myself.”

His voice was crisp and clear. There was no layer of apology, no waver of regret. Whatever he’d done, Billy felt justified in it.

His arrogance had always pissed you off.

Slowly tilting your head to the side, you stared up at him in clear challenge, your tone razor sharp and dripping with venom.

“Yeah? What did it cost?”

The edge of his mouth twitched at your taunt. Grabbing your wrists that were strapped down to the arms of the chair, he leaned forward, getting right in your face as he spoke in an aggravated tone.

“I wasn't handed nothin’. I had to earn everything I got. I had to make some tough decisions along the way, maybe did a few things I'm not so proud of. Empires aren’t built without sacrifice.”

One of the last things Billy had said to you that day in your office when you’d mentioned Frank working with Madani was that some secrets were better left buried. That choice of phrasing left you with a gut feeling that it wasn’t what Billy had left buried, but who.

“But you didn’t sacrifice anything, did you Billy? No…you sacrificed someone, and it’s come back to haunt you. So who was it? Someone important to Dinah? Or to Frank?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Billy snapped, suddenly getting defensive. His dark brown eyes had eclipsed into pools of disdain, and his lips were twisted into a faint snarl.

“I’m not lettin’ that bitch destroy everything I built.”

Rising to his full height once again, Billy’s expression shifted back into a passive and more controlled one as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“I’m gonna send Frankie an invite to do a little trade, you for whatever he’s got.”

Letting out a dry scoff, you shook your head as you stared up at him.

“You’re really more concerned about losing your wealth than your best friend?”

“If he digs too deep, he’s gonna find somethin’ he ain’t gonna like, and the war he waged on New York is gonna look like a fuckin’ daydream compared the nightmare he’s gonna bring to my doorstep.”

Billy’s words seemed to pour over you like a bucket of ice, your fiery rage fizzling into frozen perplexity.

“War on New York? What are you talking about?”

Billy’s eyes flickered up from the phone in his hand, meeting your confused gaze. He arched one of his dark brows, looking at you curiously.

“Oh c’mon, you haven’t figured it out yet? You’re a clever girl. You didn’t put together the pieces I gave you?”

“What pieces?”

“The gift I left on your desk.”

The file. The one that had Frank’s name on it. You’d had a sneaking suspicion Billy was the one that left it, but you never asked him about it, or paid it any attention after your argument with Frank. A furrow of annoyance settled between your brows.

“I never read it.”

Billy seemed genuinely surprised by that, and also confused.

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t my business, and Frank found it anyway and took it.”

He eyed you silently for a moment before slipping his phone back into his pocket and sitting back down on the edge of the crate. Billy cocked his head to the side slightly.

“He tell you how his family died?”

Immediately, you went rigid. A wave of emotions crested within you. The recollection of Frank’s vulnerability in opening up about his tragic loss was fresh. It wasn’t something you’d forget anytime soon, or ever. Hearing the grief in his voice, seeing the pain in his eyes; the worst day of Frank’s life was seared into your memory as deeply as the memory of your own. Billy bringing it up so casually incensed you all over again.

“Why does that matter?”

Billy let out a deep exhale of irritation through his nose at your defensive tone.

“Did he tell you how they died?”

He repeated his words in a more firm voice, holding your heated gaze.

“Yes, you dick. What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

Instead of being angry at your insult, a smirk curled at the edge of Billy’s mouth. There was a wicked gleam in his eye, and it filled you with a sickening feeling of foreboding.

“Pop quiz, sweetheart. Who were the three gangs the Punisher took out?”

Bewilderment wiped any lingering emotion from your face. Billy’s question seemed to send a shock through your brainwaves, causing a delay between it and your mouth.

“What?”

“C’mon, this is an easy one. You wrote an article about the guy. Who were they?”

Billy’s eyes twinkled with amusement under the harsh fluorescents, clearly enjoying knowing something you didn’t. He was taunting you, and despite knowing better than to give into his little game, your curiosity got the better of you.

“The Dogs of Hell, the Kitchen Irish, and the Mexican Cartel.”

Billy’s lips spread into a pleased smirk at your reluctant answer, and he gave you a faint not of his head.

“Good girl. Now, you had a uh, mentor, at the Bulletin. Ben, right?”

The mention of Ben’s name sent a pang through you, but Billy’s sudden switch in topics from the Punisher’s victims to Ben gave you mental whiplash. He didn’t give you more than a second to react before he continued.

“He wrote an article a few years ago about a little shootout, ended in a massacre. Remind me, where was that?”

Anxiety shot through you, making every single hair on your body stand to attention.

“Central Park.”

“And there was one survivor. What was his name?”

The apprehension you felt was evident in the way you lightly gripped onto the arms of the chair. You hadn’t known that answer when Ben originally worked on that article, but you knew it now. Trying to keep up the strong front you were putting on, you attempted to keep your voice even.

“His name was never released.”

“No, it wasn’t. But when he woke up from that coma and found out his entire family had been killed in that shootout, he sure as hell made sure that New York would never forget the one they gave him.”

Billy watched the way your expression transitioned from translucent coolness, to perplexity, and finally wary hesitance. Keeping his eyes locked on you, he slowly rose from the crate, stalking towards you, but instead of coming to a stop in front of you like he had earlier, he began to circle you like a predator.

“Tell me sweetheart, who was there that day?”

“Why does that-”

“Just answer the question.”

Letting out a sharp exhale through your nose, you began to rattle off the details you remembered from the article.

“The Dogs of Hell, the Kitchen Irish, and the-”

Immediately, you froze. Billy came to a stop behind you, and you could almost feel the way he was staring at the back of your head intensely.

“And?”

His voice was calm, but you could detect a hint of amusement. He was enjoying this, forcing you to solve his little riddle. But this time, you didn’t want to put the pieces together. You didn’t want to solve this puzzle. You wanted to run away from it.

“The Mexican Cartel.”

The words were barely a decibel above a whisper when they left your lips, but in the silence of the space, they seemed to roar in your ears. Your hands were now gripping the arms of the chair so tightly that your knuckles had gone stark white, the flesh stretched taut over the bone.

Feeling Billy’s hands settle on your shoulders, you flinched, and he squeezed them roughly in response. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your neck as he bent down to speak directly into your ear.

“What’s his name?”

Billy was a master manipulator. He was toying with you, trying to get a rise out of you by messing with your head. That’s all this was. It was a cruel trick, trying to make you think that the man who had single handedly wiped out the three largest gangs in New York City was the John Doe from the hospital. The he was-

“C’mon, you’re a smart girl. I can see the gears turning in your head. You know his name. Tell me who the Punisher-”

“The Punisher is dead.”

The sharpness and volume of your voice seemed to echo around the space you were currently trapped in.

“Dead, huh?”

Billy gave your shoulders another firm squeeze before letting go and appearing in front of you again. He looked down at you, taking in the way your eyes were wide open, your breathing had become ragged, and your nails nearly bled from digging them into the wood of the chair so hard. He knelt down in front of you, brushing your hair away from your face, causing you to flinch at his touch, which seemed to annoy him.

He ran his hand through the strands of his raven hair, pushing it back into its perfectly gelled style as he let out a deep exhale through his nose and glanced around absentmindedly.

“He should be. Shoulda died a long time ago. Hell, that bullet to the head shoulda put him down for good. But that stubborn son of a bitch just refuses to die.”

Shutting your eyes, you could see Frank in the cabin. The golden sunlight coming through the window, shining on his tan skin. His warm brown eyes locked on yours, making you feel like he could see right into your soul. The roughness of his calloused palms stroking your cheek while tucking your hair behind your ear. The velvet baritone of his voice echoing in your ears.

We uh…we were at Central Park. We had this uh…this tradition, ya’know. Every time I came home from a tour, we’d pack a picnic and go, make a whole day of it.

I don’t uh…I don’t remember when the shootin’ started.

I…made peace with it, ya’know…laid it to rest in my own way.

It was there. It was right there. Frank had inadvertently told you the truth that day, and you hadn’t even realized.

Billy could see the revelation you’d had when you opened your eyes. He could see the evidence of the truth shining along your bottom lash line. You were so thunderstruck by your epiphany, you didn’t budge this time when Billy reached out to brush a stray tear away from your face.

“Nah, he ain’t dead sweetheart. He's been right by your side this whole time. And when he finds out I've got you, he’s gonna come for you.”

It didn’t matter what Frank had found on Billy. As soon as he found out what Billy had done to you, he was coming. But it wasn’t Frank who was coming.

It was the Punisher.

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whenthep8wn · 5 months ago

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This is Money Snake. She only appears every 312 years.

If you reblog her picture within the next twenty-five seconds you will have good luck and fortune for the rest of your life.

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whenthep8wn · 5 months ago

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shipping victoria/homelander is like shipping a lesbian with her rabid chihuahua

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whenthep8wn · 5 months ago

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HIT MAN (2023) dir. Richard Linklater

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whenthep8wn · 6 months ago

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the best james potter fancast?

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whenthep8wn · 6 months ago

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The Fastest Man in the World - A-Train x GNReader Pt. 2 (Done)

(I banged this out in like maybe a lil over two hours LESGOOOO! I know this isn't totally like the first part but idc it's cute leave me alone.)

Part 1.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Suggested smut, mentions of sex, fluffs, alcohol, mentions of fighting on missions, drunken Elton John music, cursing ig? Honestly do I even need to add that as a warning? Y'all should know by now I curse A LOT.

It’d been nearly two weeks since he saved you, and the whole time it was obvious that the relationship between you had changed.

Every time the two of you run into each other, you share a look, a look you really don’t understand, and it seems he doesn’t either. Whenever you’re both at a PR event together, you can’t help but sneak glances at him when you get a chance, feeling a myriad of complicated feelings. At times, you can swear he’s doing the exact same thing, you think he’s even giving you small smiles.

Now you’re finding yourself actually enjoying his company, even when it’s only for a few minutes at most, you even laugh at a few of his obnoxious jokes. It’s like being picked up and carried by him just flipped a switch and put your annoyance of him on the back burner. You’ve also let yourself be paired up on “mentoring” missions, basically Vought wants to make him look better by “mentoring” a lower list supe. Normally you’d be pissed to high heaven for being used like that, to make someone else look better, but honestly, you don’t even care.

Today had been a long, exhausting one, this team up included so much fighting and power usage that by the time it was over, you felt like falling asleep right there. But as you’re getting ready to head home, A-Train puts a hand on your shoulder to stop you. The look on his face is surprisingly calm and almost a little nervous as he looks right into your eyes.

“Hey, nice work. You think you’d be up for a drink after all that? I know a place not far from here.”

His voice instantly shoves away any exhaustion you’d been feeling, making you give a half smile and nod at his offer.

“Yeah, I’m definitely down. This might have been the first time I’ve spent nearly the whole mission phasing in and out of people and things. I could absolutely use a drink.” The butterflies forming in your stomach make you have to try and keep the excitement out of your voice.

“Cool, race you there?” He jokes, knowing it’ll make you laugh and do that cute nose scrunch thing he’s slowly becoming fond of.

“Funny.” You do, in fact, scrunch up your nose as you laugh, you don’t even notice you do it, but he does. He notices every little thing you do, even if you don’t, and he’s already sure that he’s falling. Falling hard.

A-Train leads the way, actually walking alongside you as the two of you chat about random, mundane things about the day. By the time you actually get to this small dive bar, you’re both laughing over some stupid thing you told him you saw The Deep doing a few days ago. He opens the door for you, making the butterflies swarm again as you thank him and go inside.

Despite the bar being a bit… less than pretty, he promises the guy at the bar makes excellent drinks and that they’ll for sure get anyone wasted. Normally you’re not much of a heavy drinker, but the mood is right, you’re with someone you trust for the most part, so you agree. He grins wider than you’ve ever seen him grin, and not a fake one, no this is genuine excitement.

The next few hours are the wildest you’ve ever had, he was very right about how strong the drinks are, and it only takes about two each for you both to be wasted off your asses. Embarrassingly enough, the place had a karaoke machine, so of course, what else would two drunk supes do with this information? Sing Crocodile Rock obviously.

However, from what you can remember, once you finished the song and sat back down at the bar, you remember looking at him and seeing a certain look in his eyes. Then it kind of got blurry after you remember him leaning in and kissing you, but you definitely know you kissed him back. All you know for absolute certain is that now you’re in a hotel room, in bed, cuddling the speedster while neither of you are clothed.

Your head is definitely pounding now, hungover pretty good, but you also feel warm, not just physically, but there’s something in you that feels comfortable, cozy even. His arms wrapped just right around your back and waist, your own hands on his bicep and against his bare chest. Since you’ve woken up first, you just quietly watch him sleep, noticing how his nose twitches or his fingers seem to press into your skin as he holds you fairly tightly. It’s not painful, but it is almost protective in a way, not that you’re complaining.

As you lay there, you start to really feel the activities your drunk selves got up to, you’re sure your thighs and hips are bruised, and you can feel what are probably hickies on your neck and shoulders. The thought of it all makes you laugh softly to yourself and lightly move your hand from his arm to his face, fingers slowly caressing the lines of his face simply because you can.

Only when your featherlight touch reaches his lips does he stir, his eyes fluttering for a moment before they open, revealing his deeply attractive, brown eyes, ones that make you feel safe somehow. You smile slightly, unable to help it as you feel too relaxed and comfortable not to show how content you are. You watch his face shift a few times, going from surprise, to confusion, to a blank stare as he thinks, then to a soft smile of his own before he leans in and kisses your lips lightly.

Nothing is said for a while, neither of you really wanting to ruin the moment with words or the inevitable questions you both know will be asked. His hands slowly trace the curves of your waist and hips, fingers occasionally tracing random patterns in your skin as he takes in the feel of you. Your own touch doesn’t leave his face, you’re just drawn in too much, he’s intoxicating and you just can’t pull away yet.

But after a while, you know the silence has to be broken at some point, so you decide to be the one to do it. Only, when you go to open your mouth, he beats you to it.

“I may not remember much, but I definitely remember thinking that I want to do this again, and again, and again. I want to make us, a thing.” His voice is a little deeper than usual, and it just makes the words he speaks all the more appealing. There is a tone of genuine vulnerability in there as well, and it makes you really see the actual man beneath the supe persona.

“Again and again and again huh? I think I can do that. I’m free tonight if you’re down.”

“Oh baby, what makes you think I’m ever letting you leave this room?’ He chuckles before pulling you in and pressing his lips to yours once more.

To be fair, you had the same thought in mind.

Two years have gone by, the two of you dating in secret of course, knowing what Vought is like, granted you’d tell people to bite your ass if they had anything to say about the two of you together. By now you’re both pretty much inseparable, knowing damn near everything there is to know about each other and you’re more than happy, even with the occasional fights.

However, coming up tomorrow is a meeting to discuss the end of your five year contract with Vought, and you’re really not sure what you want to do anymore. Your plan had originally been to move back home to Las Vegas where your family lives, but now that things have changed with you being in a relationship, you’re conflicted. For the last week you’ve been highly strung, overly anxious and overworking a bit to try and distract from the pending decisions.

At around 11pm, you’re laying on the couch, head in A-Train’s lap as you try to block out the plaguing headache. The TV plays some insanely boring reality show that he finds amusing, but even while his attention is split, he still makes sure to try and help comfort you. His fingers gently running through your hair, rubbing your scalp to try and ease the stress as much as he can.

The thoughts in your head preventing you from even thinking about sleep as you turn your head to check the wall clock, groaning when you see how late it’s getting. Do you leave your boyfriend that you love more than anything in New York to go home to Las Vegas? Or do you stay and wish you were back home with the family you miss so much?

“Reggie, what the hell do I do? My family has been thinking I’ll be going home at the end of my contract and I’ve been getting non stop messages about how they can’t wait to have me home again. But I can’t just up and leave what we have here!”

He sighs as he hears the distress in your tone, turning down the TV volume as he turns his full attention onto you. His eyes flicker with uncertainty of his own, not particularly liking the topic himself either. You hadn’t told him about the meeting until about two weeks ago, so he’s not exactly happy with you on that, having omitted the fact you might leave to go almost across the state away from him.

“I don’t know what to tell you baby, it’s not my decision. I’ll sure as hell miss you if you leave, but I’m not going to make you stay if you really don’t want to. And obviously I’d still come see you, no distance is too far for the A-Train to run, but it wouldn’t be the same. But I know you miss your family, and they miss you.”

“Fuuuuckkkk.” You groan and roll onto your side so you can bury your face against his stomach, arms moving around him. You don’t want to be that far away from him, you don’t think you could handle not sleeping next to him almost every night. At the same time, you don’t want to disappoint your family after having sworn up and down that you’d come back to stay, though that was before you and him started dating.

Reggie chuckles a little, still messing with your hair as his other hand moves to slowly rub your back, knowing how calming it can be for you at the best of times. Though he knows this is a shitty choice for you, especially considering Vought is talking about signing you on for another five years, maybe up to ten this time if negotiated right. And while he wants to be selfish and beg you to stay for him, to keep living the life the two of you are slowly building together already, he won’t.

Then an idea strikes him, causing him to pull you up gently and sit you on his lap, well, it’s more like you’re straddling his lap, facing him directly. He moves his hand from your hair to your cheek, lightly rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone and smiling when you lean into his touch.

“Go home baby.” Your face instantly twists into a face of confusion and a bit of sadness as your mind jumps to the first thought that comes from those words. But he quickly shakes his head and continues. “Mm-mm, I meant, go home for a week or so, see how it feels to be home and if that’s really what you want. Then make your choice. The meeting is to decide how long your next contract will be, not when it starts, remember? You have time to figure out what you want to do. And I’ll be right here with you.

It takes a minute for what he said to sink in, the idea is a pretty smart one, an obvious one you really feel stupid for not thinking of yourself. You move your arms around his shoulders, pressing yourself against his chest a bit so you can kind of force him to hug you.

“I love you. You’re so much smarterer than me.” You mumble into his neck as you bury your face there, holding onto him in dramatic shame for your “stupidity”.

He just laughs and hugs you tightly, resting his chin on your shoulder as he pulls you in as tight against him as possible. “Love you too dummy. I know everything will work out just fine, alright?”

“Mhm, I know. I dunno what I’d do without you. Fast legs n fast brain apparently.”

It’s growing increasingly clear that you’re tired, rarely being one to stay up till midnight and it’s already 11:35. He just chuckles again and carefully stands up, still carrying you in his arms, though he doesn’t move till your legs are wrapped firmly around his hips, keeping you tight against him still. He takes you to your bedroom, or really both your bedroom, considering he basically lives in your apartment now too, and gently lays back with you still in his arms.

“I still have pants on, I don’t wanna sleep in-”

Your tired complaints are quickly shut up by a playful but deeply passionate and sweet kiss, only lasting a few seconds before being painfully taken away.

“Deal with it. I’ll make sure you wake up early enough to shower and change before the meeting. Now go to bed before I make you like last time.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time. I remember you fuc-”

“Goodnight.”

“Yeah yeah, g’night Reggie.”

It’s not long before you pass out, him following suit about an hour later, and in the morning, he wakes first, doing as he promised and waking you up about two hours before the meeting as he knows you tend to be late to everything.

Over the next couple weeks, you do end up heading home to Las Vegas to see your family, but Reggie decided he’s go with you, the both of you finally feeling like it was worth revealing your relationship, thinking “fuck it”. Your family easily understood why you were only staying for a few weeks, and most encouraged you to stay in New York, on the condition you visit regularly of course.

In the end that’s exactly what you do, and it makes you look back on how things have changed a lot in the last five years. You go from being dangerously annoyed by The Seven’s speedster, to being saved accidentally by him, to being engaged after the day before you both go back to New York.

Maybe the fastest man in the world isn’t such an arrogant jerk? At least most of the time anyways.

[Dividers made by me!]

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