Oh God Why Would You Do This To Me Bella!? This Is Heartbreaking 😭💔

Oh god why would you do this to me Bella!? This is heartbreaking 😭💔

Don't Walk Away [Part One]

Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader

Summary: Frank is a good man–you learned that the day he brought your dog Lucky into your life. The two of you soon began a relationship afterwards, one that was rather unconventional with how often Frank was always on the road. But one night when he's back, you're hit with the realization that you're in love with him. Noticing your nerves, Frank eventually pulls the truth out of you–and then you're left confused and heartbroken when you wake up to find him gone the next morning.

Warnings: 18+; Angst with a happy ending (in part two), emotional hurt/comfort, smut (in part two), love confession

Word Count: 5.7k

a/n: This was going to be a one part thing but I wanted to give this story everything I needed to which meant it was growing into something bigger. So there will be a part two coming that has the happy ending and smut. For now, this is angst. Enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

Humming absently to yourself, you sealed the lid on the tupperware container of the leftover pasta you’d made for dinner. A crisp breeze made its way through the open windows in your kitchen, that comforting and familiar scent of autumn soon approaching wafting inside and filling your house. You loved this time of year when the nights finally cooled off and you didn’t have beads of sweat rolling down your back from the scorching heat of the day. There was something serene and calming about having your windows open at night, the sounds of the crickets outside a peaceful background to your evenings.

As you made your way over to the refrigerator, you heard the sound of a car rolling to a stop somewhere along the street out front, the noise louder than usual with your windows wide open. You saw Lucky raise her head from off the kitchen floor, perking up at the noise as you opened the refrigerator door and placed the container of leftover pasta inside. Lucky let out a soft whine from the floor next, your attention fully turning down towards your dog as you shut the fridge.

“It’s just a car, girl,” you told her. “Nothing to be worried about.”

Making your way towards your dishwasher, you pulled the door open and slid out the bottom rack. Turning, you began pulling the dirty pots and bowls out of the sink from this evening and setting them one by one inside of the dishwasher. The loud thud of a car door closing outside rang out through your kitchen and Lucky jumped up from the floor. You paused, half-bent over the dishwasher as your focus shifted to her. She was standing perfectly at attention facing the living room, her entire body absolutely still except for her cropped tail. It was doing that hopeful, eager wag she would get where her tail would wag exactly three times before it stopped for a couple of seconds only to wag three more times.

And she only ever acted like this when she noticed Frank was back.

“Is your daddy here?” you asked Lucky.

Her head turned back towards you, a happy glint in her eyes. You couldn’t contain your own excitement either, a large grin slipping onto your lips as you slid the dishrack back before closing the dishwasher door. Heading to the sink, you washed your hands, your smile only growing when you heard Lucky softly whining in barely contained joy.

By the time you were drying your hands on the kitchen towel, you heard a knock coming from the front door. Lucky bolted off towards it immediately, her excited barks loudly echoing through your previously quiet house. Making your way out of your kitchen and to the living room after her, you could hear Frank’s laughter coming through the open windows. The warm, resonate sound of it had you picking up your pace as you headed to the front door. It had been awhile since Frank had last stopped by and you'd certainly missed him.

Unlocking the door, you hurriedly pulled it open to reveal Frank Castle standing on your doorstep–or Pete Castiglione as everyone else in the world knew him as. But you had come to know him for exactly who he was shortly after the night you met him eight months ago now.

He was the one who’d brought Lucky into the animal hospital you’d been working at late at night. She’d been in terrible shape, barely holding on from the abuse she had clearly suffered from, and she had been covered in injuries from what appeared to be dog fights. He’d been in a panic about her, begging you to do whatever you could to save her that night when he’d barged in through the front doors carrying her limp body in his arms. Frank had barely left the animal hospital’s parking lot for the entire week she’d been in your care. He had always been checking in on her, asking if there was anything he could do.

It wasn’t long before you’d looked into who he was, curious about the man who cared so much about an abused dog that supposedly wasn’t his dog–and then you’d managed to uncover his past. You’d been a bit wary of him at first, but Frank had only ever been kind and respectful to you and your colleagues. It was clear he had a big heart judging by how much he cared for the dog he’d rescued and couldn’t seem to let go of. Though when she was finally ready to go home and recover, you’d expected he would want to take her with him, but he’d surprised you when he had told you that he couldn’t. He was apparently living on the road for now, traveling from state to state without a real home, trying to find where he belonged. He had stayed only long enough to make sure she was healed and safe before he left.

You had ended up taking her in and naming her Lucky–because she was lucky Frank had been the one to find her and rescue her that night. But you’d also referred to her as your good luck charm because two weeks later, Frank had returned to the animal hospital you worked at and was asking about her. When he learned you’d been the one to give her a home, he’d asked if he could see her again. It was Lucky who had ultimately brought you and Frank together; she was the reason the pair of you had eventually fallen into the unconventional relationship you’d had for months now while Frank continued to live his life on the road trying to find himself–though you always wondered if he was really just punishing himself.

Pulling the screen door open, Frank stepped inside with a broad smile spread wide across his face, his warm brown eyes focused on you. The sight of him had your heart feeling ready to burst, a large smile spreading onto your own lips in return. Lucky quickly began excitedly hopping around by Frank’s legs, demanding attention as happy barks flew out of her one after another. She only quieted when he'd finally tore his eyes from you and focused his attention on her.

“Hey girl,” Frank greeted Lucky. “You missed me, did ya?”

He took two steps inside before swiftly dropping down to his knees on the floor beside her. Lucky was quick to bombard him in a series of kisses straight away, only further encouraged by his large hands scratching behind her ears. Laughing lightly at the pair of them, you closed the front door and locked it before turning and leaning against it, watching the both of them with that smile lingering on your lips. Lucky’s entire lower half wiggled back and forth in delight as Frank continued to enthusiastically scratch behind her ears, muttering sweet words of praise to her. The reunions between the two of them had always went like this whenever Frank showed back up at your place, and it always warmed your heart to watch them together.

It was a few minutes before Lucky finally calmed, lowering to sit on her haunches in front of Frank with her tongue happily hanging out of her mouth looking as if she was smiling herself. Frank glanced up at you, one hand still absently petting Lucky as he directed that broad smile still on his face at you. The sight of it had your heart almost skipping a beat–it had been two weeks since you'd last had the opportunity to see that smile in person.

His attention not leaving you, he slipped his duffle bag from off his shoulder and dropped it to the floor by his feet. “How’s my favorite girl?” he asked.

“Feeling a little left out of this reunion,” you teased.

“Well I can’t have that now can I?” he mused.

He gave Lucky two more pats on her head before he rose back up to his feet, eyeing you with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he slowly sauntered towards you. You quirked a brow at him, the corner of your lips curving even higher upwards. The moment he was within reach, his hands were on your hips. You could feel the warmth of them seeping past the thin fabric of your sweatpants, his fingers firmly gripping you in an almost possessive way. He stepped in closer to you, closing the distance between you both as his face hovered just before yours. Your own hands rose up, landing on his chest just over his dark jacket. Your eyes locked onto his brown ones, spotting that familiar light in them they always had when he was with you. Though every time he said goodbye to you before heading out to his truck, ready to get back on the road again, you swore you saw that light extinguish behind his eyes.

“What about you, beautiful?” Frank asked, his voice a gentle rumble in your ears as he cocked his head to the side. “Did you miss me?”

“I always miss you when you’re gone, Frank,” you assured him, hands snaking their way up his solid chest until you could wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him in closer to you. “And I’m always happy to see you.”

“Is that right?” he murmured.

Frank lowered his forehead to rest against yours, his eyes closing. Yours closed seconds later, your tongue slipping out to wet your lips in anticipation of your greeting from him. He was so close to you that his lips brushed yours when he spoke next.

“How much did ya miss me?” he asked.

Without hesitation, your arms pulled him in the rest of the way to you as you tilted your face up, capturing his lips with your own. It surprised you that his lips were always so soft every single time you kissed him because everything about Frank usually screamed the opposite of soft. And right now those lips of his were moving so deliberate and slow against yours over and over again, the feel of them finally back on yours making you suddenly breathless. You quickly found yourself getting lost in him, your body melting into his as he pressed you further back into the front door. The scent of leather and gasoline and smoke filled your nose as your mind went blank to everything else but him. Frank took another step into you, his hands sensually sliding their way down your hips and around towards your ass as he kissed you exactly like a man who'd been gone for two weeks would.

Kissing Frank for you was vastly different than kissing anyone else you ever had before. With Frank, every kiss and every touch from him always felt full of passion and something more . Something more than just lust and desire and the urge to scratch an itch. You’d never experienced that with anyone else but him, and you’d always been left wondering what that had meant.

When you felt Frank’s tongue drag its way along your lower lip so painfully slow and purposeful, you couldn't resist the faint moan that fell out of your mouth. Frank swallowed down the sound before he squeezed your ass in his large hands. Then he pulled away from you just a bit, chuckling at the whine you emitted in protest.

"Much as I'd love to continue this, beautiful," Frank murmured, pausing to place a sweet kiss back to your lips, "It's been hours since I ate. Been drivin' all day trying to get back to you before you went to bed. D’ya mind if we catch up while I eat?"

Your right hand withdrew from its place around his neck, gradually making its way towards his face where you began to affectionately stroke his stubbled cheek. Frank’s eyes crinkled at the corners as you did. It was a moment before you answered, just enjoying the slight rasp of his beard against your fingertips, content that he was here again. Though you loved the slightly outgrown beard he always showed up with, clearly not having had a chance to shave in a few days each time you saw him again.

"Only if you don't eat that packaged shit in your bag," you replied, gesturing your head at his duffle bag with a grimace. "I just finished dinner a bit ago, I can reheat you some of the pasta I made."

Frank's smile widened further, his hands gripping your ass firmly again. "You're too good to me, sweetheart," he told you.

"Well somebody needs to make sure you're eating more than tuna fish from a bag and beef jerky," you shot back, nails playfully scratching along his jawline. "I need to make sure you're not malnourished out there on the road."

"Oh do you now?" he asked, his hands releasing you.

"Mhmm,” you hummed out as Frank stepped back from you, a grin forming on his lips. “You make sure you take those dirty things off before you make yourself comfortable, though," you told him, gesturing a finger down at his black boots.

Frank's grin curled up even higher before he dipped his head once in a single nod. "Yes, ma'am."

You hummed out a pleased noise before turning and making your way back to the kitchen. It came as no surprise to you that Lucky didn't follow after you, choosing to stay behind with Frank as he gathered his bag and took his boots off.

Opening the refrigerator door, you pulled out the container of pasta you'd only minutes ago put away before setting it on the kitchen counter. Next you reached up into a cabinet, pulling down a bowl and then grabbing a fork from a nearby drawer. Afterwards, you began scooping a generous portion of food into the bowl–you knew damn well Frank ate like shit when he wasn't with you. You also knew he loved your cooking.

As you opened the microwave door, you heard Frank's tired feet shuffling their way towards the kitchen. By the time the pasta had begun reheating in the microwave, Frank was at your back, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling the back of you into the front of him. He buried his face into your neck and you tilted your head, giving him easier access as your eyes fell closed. He nuzzled quietly against your skin for a moment, the scratch of his beard almost a tickle.

“Missed you,” he murmured into your neck.

Your hands landed on top of his arms where they were wrapped around your waist, a contented sigh slipping out of your lips. You missed him every single day he was gone, constantly checking your phone for a new text or a call or a voicemail from him. Always desperate for anything at all from him. For the past few months you’d found yourself wishing he’d just stay one of these days instead of always slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder in a few days’ time, carrying your heart off with him as he drove away in his truck.

“You know you don’t always have to leave,” you told him quietly.

Frank inhaled an audible, deep breath, holding it for a long moment before he expelled it roughly. He soon drew his face from your neck as his arms began to unwind themselves from around your waist. Your stomach nervously twisted in knots at the physical distance he was clearly creating.

You’d had this conversation with him two times before. The first time it was mostly one-sided with you doing most of the talking. The second time had resulted in a fight. Frank had gotten incredibly upset with you and you hadn’t exactly understood why before he’d grabbed his bag and disappeared. You thought that was the end of things until he’d called you a few hours later apologizing profusely. Though you didn’t see him for almost three weeks after that.

Before he could respond with anything, the microwave beeped loudly. The sound cut through the tension that had formed in the kitchen. Clearing your throat, you focused on grabbing the hot bowl from the microwave.

“Why don’t you get comfortable and I’ll grab you a beer?” you suggested, shooting him a strained smile over your shoulder.

For a moment Frank stood there silently just a foot behind you, an unreadable expression on his face. You could see the muscles jumping in his cheeks as he ground his teeth together–in anger or something else, you had no idea. It was a bit before he finally nodded, turning and shuffling his way towards your kitchen table. You watched him slide out a chair before sinking down into the seat. Lucky was at his side instantly, resting her head on his thigh.

With the steaming bowl of pasta in one hand, you made your way to the refrigerator and opened it. As you pulled out a beer for him, you could feel the weight of his stare on you.

“So what stories did you bring me back this time?” you asked him, trying to diffuse the tension as you shut the fridge door.

Almost instantly his face lit up with a smile, another one of his deep, rumbling laughs filling your kitchen. Your nerves quickly melted away at the sound as you headed over towards him, depositing the bowl of pasta and beer in front of him on the table.

“Oh I got plenty of stories, sweetheart,” Frank told you, straightening in his chair as he grabbed the fork, hungrily spearing a few noodles.

Pulling the chair out beside his, you settled down into it before resting an elbow on the table. With a bright smile back on your face, you rested your chin in the palm of your hand, listening intently as he began to animatedly fill you in on his past two weeks.

°•°•°•°•°•°

Slowly waking, your eyelids fluttered open only to be met with the darkness of your bedroom. It took your brain a moment to register the warmth that was at your back, though you smiled in the darkness when you remembered Frank was curled up behind you with his large hand resting on your hip under the sheets.

The tension had quickly vanished between the pair of you while Frank had eaten and the two of you had caught up. Shortly afterwards, Frank had grabbed a shower while you’d been hurriedly closing up all of the windows in your house. Then you’d made your way to the bathroom and slipped out of your clothes, joining him under the warm spray where the two of you caught up with each other in another way.

Now he was fast asleep behind you wearing nothing but a pair of his boxers. His breathing filled your bedroom with each soft and rhythmic exhale from his mouth. You always missed having him in your bed whenever he was off on the road. It always felt too big and empty without him here sharing it with you.

That thought hit you hard right in the chest and you winced. It had been nearing a year of this long distance relationship with Frank now, and even though you’d been aware of his situation of being on the road when you’d started it with him, you’d recently come to feel differently about it. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust that he wasn’t with anyone else–though at first you’d wondered about that–but there was something there that you hadn’t been able to put your finger on before. Some other reason that his constant coming and going had started to feel different to you. That you’d stopped being so open to it.

You slipped a hand up out of the sheets, rubbing the heel of it against your eyes. That nagging feeling was back again. It was the same one that had you feeling restless and like there was something missing whenever you thought about Frank lately. With a sigh you shifted in the sheets, carefully trying to maneuver your way out of the bed and away from him without waking him up. Though you knew he was usually completely exhausted whenever he turned up on your doorstep and would sleep through just about anything.

Quietly you made your way down the side of your bed, sneaking past Lucky who was contentedly passed out in her dog bed, curled up in a tight ball. You continued to tiptoe towards the door, exiting your bedroom before continuing to make your way down the short hallway and into your kitchen. You could feel that nagging, unnamable feeling eating away at you again as you stopped beside the kitchen counter, reaching a hand up and opening a cabinet before pulling down a glass.

Silently you made your way over to the sink, filling the cup halfway with water before you turned, resting your back against the counter. You drew the glass to your lips, sipping on the cool liquid as your eyes focused on the dark hallway nearby. Despite the stillness of your house, if you listened closely, you could hear Frank’s even breaths drifting out of the bedroom. The sound of it brought a faint smile to your lips.

And that’s when it hit you.

Your hand tightened around the cold glass as the realization came crashing into you all at once, nearly drowning you in the revelation. You wondered how you’d been so blind to what had been right in front of you for so long.

You had fallen in love with Frank.

It had happened somewhere between all those phone calls and text messages you’d shared with him these past eight months, along with those impromptu camping trips he had brought you and Lucky with him on. Somewhere between the nights he’d cooked you dinner and taken you to bed, showing you just how much he’d missed you while he was gone. All those times he’d shown up on your doorstep–sometimes with a bouquet of flowers or with breakfast and coffees in hand–you’d fallen for him.

There was no denying it.

Though you immediately became terrified of the realization. You knew about Frank’s past. You knew he’d been married and he’d had two children. You knew that all three of them had been brutally murdered right in front of him. And you damn well knew he still thought about them everyday–he still had nightmares some nights when he was with you. Horrible ones that made you feel useless to help him in any other way besides offering him comfort as he wept into your shoulder in the middle of the night.

How the hell could you tell him you loved him? Did you even tell him that?

A nervous churning began in your stomach as your eyes dropped down to the almost empty glass in your trembling hand. You were in love with a man who wasn’t a physical constant in your life. Sure, Frank kept in touch with you on and off throughout the day every single day that he was gone, but he wasn’t here with you every day. And that’s what it was you’d found yourself wanting lately. But with what he’d lost and how he seemed to keep spending his days searching for something out there on the road, could he ever even be here with you?

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you turned and dumped out the last bit of water in the sink before setting the glass on the counter. With a quivering exhale, you wrapped your arms around yourself before quietly tiptoeing back to the bedroom. Though the moment you entered, Frank began to stir in the sheets. You stopped instantly at the foot of the bed when you saw his head rise from off the pillow, his brows furrowing together.

“Somethin’ wrong?” Frank’s groggy voice asked.

Nervously you tucked some hair behind your ear, continuing back towards your side of the bed. You shook your head as you pulled the sheets further back, aware of Frank’s eyes following you through the darkness.

“No,” you answered quietly. “Just needed a glass of water.”

You slipped back onto the mattress, laying on your back this time as you turned your head along the pillow. You sent Frank a tight smile as you pulled the sheets back over yourself. A moment later you felt his hand sliding its way carefully up your neck, coming to cradle the side of your face. He carefully drew it further towards his, his thumb absently stroking your cheekbone with such tenderness that your heart stuttered in your chest. You swallowed hard, that tight band of nerves that had formed at your recent revelation in the kitchen a minute ago twisting noticeably in your gut.

“You sure?” Frank asked.

Your brows twitched together briefly at his question. “Yeah, why?” you asked him cautiously.

“You seem…on edge,” Frank pointed out, his thumb still stroking your cheek. “Did I do somethin’?”

Instantly you shook your head, though your immediate denial only seemed to further pique his interest. He shifted on the mattress, drawing himself up onto an arm as he gazed down at you, brushing some hair from your face.

“What’s goin’ on.”

It wasn’t a question. You heard it in the tone of his voice, he knew something was wrong. Internally you cursed that Frank was such a perceptive man.

Swallowing hard, you shook your head again as your gaze dropped down to his bare chest. The marks from your nails were still visible along his skin in the dimly lit room and your cheeks heated at the memory of your time with him in the shower earlier. But that heat quickly gave way to your nerves under Frank’s heavy stare.

You knew Frank had only ever been with you after the passing of his wife. He had never let anyone else in–he had never even slept with anyone else besides you after Maria had passed. And he’d opened up to you about a lot of the pain he carried over these past few months, too. But what you didn’t know was how he would react to this thing between you both suddenly being something more than what it had been for the past eight months.

“Tell me,” Frank ordered.

“I just–”

You stopped, biting your bottom lip as those knots in your stomach from earlier twisted tighter and tighter. Fingers curling around the bedsheets, your eyes snapped shut. You weren’t sure if you could get the words out.

“You just what?” his gruff voice gently pressed.

Inhaling a trembling breath, you tried to find the courage to answer him. You knew he wouldn't drop this now. Maybe he’d surprise you–you hoped so–but if you were being entirely honest with yourself, you didn’t expect him to reciprocate your feelings. And you weren’t entirely sure how you felt about that, either. Could Frank ever even love you? Maybe not now, but possibly someday? Would he ever even let himself feel that way for someone that wasn't Maria? You admittedly weren't sure about the answers to those questions, and you weren't certain Frank himself even had the answers. And that scared you now more than it ever had in the past.

“Talk to me,” Frank urged when you remained silent.

“I don’t–don’t exactly know how to say this,” you whispered, the words falling out of you in a rush. “I guess I never really let myself think about it before so I–I didn’t realize it until…just now. I mean, you’re always coming and going so I’ve never really–really let myself think about the possibility that I–” your voice broke off mid-sentence. Even you could hear the tremble in your words. Closing your eyes tighter, you tried to push the words out, unable to look him in the face as you bore your heart to him next. “I love you, Frank. And I–I don’t expect to hear you say that in return to me. But I–” you sucked in a sharp breath, wincing as you repeated the confession aloud to him, “–I love you.”

Silence met your ears. You felt the way Frank’s thumb paused its repetitive movements along your cheek as he stiffened beside you in the bed. You kept your eyes clamped closed, too afraid to see his reaction. But the longer the silence dragged on in the bedroom, the worse that feeling in your stomach grew. Maybe you should have lied and not said anything at all. Even if you didn’t expect to hear him say it in return, you still expected something .

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t–”

You were cut off by Frank’s hand on your cheek pulling you towards him before his mouth was suddenly on yours. You rolled over onto your side, your right hand snaking its way around his waist and up his back, fingers digging into his hard muscles. His hand held you to him, firm but gentle, as he kissed you with an intensity you’d never felt from him before. You’d barely had a chance to register much else before he sharply broke away from you.

Your eyes flew open at the abrupt end to that passionate kiss, confusion written all over your face. Though seconds later Frank was pressing his forehead to yours, his own eyes closed. He remained silent, not saying anything in return as his thumb began its affectionate path along your cheekbone again. For now, you took that as a positive response, one that briefly quelled the rising nerves in your stomach as you brushed your nose up against his.

Frank pulled away from you after a moment, his lips placing two long, lingering kisses along your forehead before he settled back on his pillow. His hand released your cheek to instead wrap around your waist, drawing you further into him. Easily obliging, you snuggled up against the front of him, relaxing into the heat and comfort of his body as your eyelids briefly lowered.

He may not have said it back, but you figured that kiss meant something good, at least. You figured you had tomorrow to talk to him about it all. You’d make sense of things then. For now, you just wanted to curl up against Frank and drift to sleep in the safety of his arms.

°•°•°•°•°•°

Lucky’s high-pitched whine met your ears first. You rolled over, burying your face into your pillow and trying to block out the sunlight seeping past your curtains and hitting the back of your eyelids. You groaned, throwing a hand out to your right and hoping to pull Frank closer to you–but your hand hit the cold mattress. Instantly your head rose from your pillow, your eyes blinking rapidly as they tried to adjust to the bright light in your room.

The space beside you was empty.

Frowning, you pushed yourself upright on the bed, your eyes surveying the bedroom. Lucky was sitting beside the bedroom door, her dark gray ears drooping as she ducked her head. She whined again as she looked back at you.

“Frank?” you called out.

When you didn’t get a response, you kicked the sheets off of yourself and hurriedly threw your legs over the side of your bed. Brows furrowing together in confusion, you stood up and made your way out of the bedroom and down the short hallway with Lucky following after you. Though you immediately came to a stop in the living room. Frank’s boots were missing from where he’d set them last night by the front door.

Your mouth went dry as your eyes flew to the couch next. His duffle bag wasn’t where he’d tossed it on the cushions before his shower last night, either. Your heart began to pound in your chest, the beating of it uneven and erratic.

“Frank?” you called out again.

No answer.

Lucky walked past you, making her way to your front window. She nuzzled the curtains out of her way as she looked outside. Feeling like you were moving in slow motion, you made your way to the window after her. Reaching a hand out, you pulled the dark blue curtains back.

Frank’s truck wasn’t parked out front where it had been last night.

A sharp gasp fell out of you, your hand dropping the curtain and flying up to cover your mouth as you stumbled a couple of steps backwards. You could feel the burn of tears building in your eyes, a tightness forming in your chest.

Frank was gone. He must’ve slipped out of bed sometime last night or early this morning and just left without a word. A strangled noise slid out from behind your hand at that thought and you pressed your lips firmly together, trying to keep from crying.

A desperate, hopeful thought ran through your mind next. Maybe he’d run out to grab breakfast and didn’t say anything because he thought he’d be back before you’d woken?

Hurrying back down the hallway towards your bedroom, you headed straight to your nightstand and practically ripped your phone from the charger. You unlocked it, noticing there weren’t any notifications from Frank. Opening up your contacts, you quickly found his name and dialed his number. You held the phone to your ear with bated breath.

Though it didn’t ring. Not even once. Instead, your call had gone straight to Frank’s automated voicemail.

Slowly you lowered the phone from your ear and down to your lap as you blankly sank down on the edge of your bed. Your finger ended the call as your vision began to blur from the tears quickly welling in your eyes. It wasn’t long before they began to spill forth, hot and wet as they raced down your cheeks. Lucky’s head gently lowered to your left knee as she softly whined again. Almost instantly you crumpled in half, throwing your arms around her neck as you sobbed into her fur.

Frank had left you. All because you’d gone and fallen in love with him.

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This fic is so underrated!?! Every chapter has been so interesting and enjoyable, you're doing an amazing job, author! Take care! <3

Get Off the Highway || Chapter 8

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 1.9 k

Warnings/tags: Enemies to lovers trope, angst, childhood trauma, eldest daughter syndrome

A/N: Events take place between Pac-Man Fever (8.20) and The Great Escapist (8.21) continues into the next chapter.

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Dividers by @cafekitsune

“Garth, call me back please,” you said on the phone. “I need to know that you’re okay. Just call me, okay?”

You shut your trunk after dropping your duffel bag in. You were starting to get worried about Garth. You received a call from a hunter, two towns over, he couldn’t reach Garth but the latter had given him your number a few months ago just in case.

The last you’d heard of him or even spoken to him, was during that werewolf case, outside of Portland. And ever since, he went radio silent. You had no other way to reach him. You reached out to the Winchesters, questioning them about Garth. But they hadn’t heard from him, either.

Unfortunately, you had to put your worries regarding Garth at the back of your mind. The job never stopped.

“Anybody home?” You called, walking down the stairs that led you into the underground bunker.

“Hey, what brings you to our necks of the woods, Princess?” Dean greeted you at the foot of the stairs.

“I just finished up a hunt two towns over,” you explained. “Thought I’d make a quick stop. If that’s okay with you?”

“And if it’s not?”

“Too bad, I’m already here.” You moved past him as he rolled his eyes, stepping into the war room. “Woah. You look a little worse for wear,” you commented when you saw Sam.

He looked sickly sitting at the table, with a blanket around his shoulders, “good to see you too.” He let out a low ghost of a laugh.

You gave him a quick hug, “you got a terrible fever, my dude.” You placed your hand on his forehead, and brushed his hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ear. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Sam assured you. But you weren’t convinced.

“Yeah, well, you need to take something for that fever,” you stepped around him towards the bedrooms area. “Like some paracetamol or something.”

“Hey, you’ve heard anything from Garth?” Dean followed you.

You shook your head, “nothing. I keep trying but he’s not returning my calls.” You stepped into your assigned bedroom, with Dean on your heels, “and my contacts haven’t heard of him either. I don’t like that.”

“There’s nothing we can do about it, anyway,” he retorted, you dropped your bag on the bed.

“I know—but I’m worried. I know he’s capable and all, but—he’s off the grid. And no one’s go off the grid unless—you know.”

“I know,” he sighed. “But it’s Garth. He’s a tough one.”

“Yeah,” you crossed your arms over your chest, letting out a deep breath. “I guess I’m just worried about him.”

“Yeah,” he turned around to leave your room.

“Hey, is everything okay with Sam?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he told you. “I’m handling it.”

And without a word, he walked out, pulling the door behind him.

“Noted.”

Although, you and Dean had grown somewhat friendly within the last few months. He was still guarded around you. Certain subjects, such as his brother’s conditions, were topics he’d rather not discuss with you. You were a little miffed about it. It was a little unfair, you thought, that he would shut you down. Not that you were much of an open book either.

Barefooted, dressed in dark spandex and tie dye crop top, you made your way into the kitchen. You dropped the empty laundry basket on the kitchen table. It was a lazy day at the bunker for you, the brothers were working on their own thing. You didn’t pry but you were curious, wondering whether or not it had anything to do with Sam’s declining health. Dean had made it clear that it wasn’t any of your business.

“Someone’s getting comfortable around here,” Dean quipped from behind you, startling you.

“How do you keep on doing this?” You hissed, clutching your chest. You looked down at his boots, “it’s not like you’re really quiet.”

“You should get your ears checked,” Dean walked up to the fridge.

“You’re right, I might have hearing problems,” you leaned against the counter, crossing your arms over your chest. “At least, it would explain all the nonsense coming out of your mouth.”

He scoffed, opening his beer bottle. Sam stumbled into the kitchen, looking worse than he had the morning you arrived. Dark circles under his eyes, pale skin, clammy with sweat because of his high fever.

“Can I get you anything, Sam?” You asked gently.

“No, I’m good,” Sam shook his head, with a strained smile. “Thanks,” he poured himself a glass of water.

The tension grew instantly when your eyes caught Dean’s while Sam walked out of the kitchen.

“Not so fast, Bucko,” you rushed to step in front of him, blocking his exit out of the kitchen. “I’ve been here a total of three days and he’s not getting better. So, what’s really going on?”

“That’s crazy,” you commented. “Shutting the gates of hell for good that sounds—unreal.”

“Locking away those sons of bitches, halve our workload,” Dean agreed. “Promised Land.”

“Just forgot to read the fine print, that’s all,” you said sardonically. “He’s gonna be okay, you know that, right?”

Dean’s eyes locked onto yours, “yeah, Sam’s a tough son of a bitch but I don’t know, man. Those trials are messing with him in ways even Cass can’t heal.”

“I still can’t believe you have an Angel on speed dial,” you shook your head.

“He’s not answering much these days,” he said dryly.

“So, there’s one trial left, right? And you haven’t figured out what it is, yet?”

“Still working on that,” Dean leaned against the wall.

You didn’t know exactly what to answer to that. So, you remained quiet. Frankly, you were trying to wrap your mind around the fact that the Winchesters were friends with an Angel of the Lord. Also, that prophets were real. This was a lot to take in.

And yes, the prospect of demons no longer being able to roam the earth was amazing. Was it worth the sacrifice? Sam and Dean thought it was and took on the challenge, still, this seemed unreal and unfeasible.

“You know he’ll pull through, right?” You tried, “you said it yourself; he’s a tough nut to crack. He’ll make it through.”

“Should’ve been me,” he said, his expression hardening to stone.

“Maybe it worked out this way because Sam needs to go through the trials more than you do?” You suggested very tentatively.

“I don’t want to hear that,” he growled, pushing away from the wall.

You watched as he stalked away from you, coming to the realization that the thought had probably crossed his mind already. The trials were messing with Sam in a very bad way, and Dean couldn’t fix it. It must be frustrating for him to see his little brother be in pain and not be able to do anything about it. And as a big sister, yourself, you understood the feeling more than he knew.

“Hey, stupid!” You greeted your brother, folding your clean and dry clothes, in your bedroom.

“Hey,” your brother, Matt, greeted back. “Are you on a hunt, right now?”

“Nah, having some R&R here in Kansas, why?” You asked curiously, pausing the folding.

“I think there’s a case here for you,” he breathed out.

“A case? How do you mean?”

“Well, some weird stuff had been happening lately at my workplace,” Matt started to explain, you could hear people talking in the distance, behind him.

“Weird how?”

“Look, a few weeks ago, one of my good buddy completely lost it and walked right into traffic,” he explained.

“And is he okay?”

“He’ll survive but it’s gonna take a while for him to recover fully,” Matt sighed. “There’s more.”

“Tell me,” you encouraged him to continue.

“A few days after that, another coworker thought drinking hot boiling water was a good idea.”

“What the hell?” You stood up from your bed, fishing for clothes. “Did something weird happen before it all started?”

“That’s the thing. Nothing changed,” your brother told you. “Does that sound like your kind of weird?”

“Yeah, it does,” you agreed. “I’m gonna hit the road as soon as I can. Do me a favor?”

“What?”

“Don’t touch anything until I get there.”

Once you changed into fresh clothes, you walked into the war room, clutching your duffel bag in one hand.

“You’re leaving already?” Dean questioned; his bows scrunched up.

Your eyebrows went up, “if I didn’t know better, I’d say you sound pretty sad that I’m leaving.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, princess,” he rolled his eyes. “Just curious.”

“Whatever you say, bucko,” you snorted. “And to answer your question, yes, I’m leaving. My brother found me a case back home. I’m gonna go check it out.”

“I thought he wasn’t a hunter?” Sam asked you.

“He isn’t,” you shook your head. “It’s just that some weird things have been happening and he thought I could do something about it.”

“What kind of weird things?” Dean questioned.

“One colleague of his walked directly into traffic. And another one drank boiling water. I was thinking along the lines of cursed object or maybe some sort of mind control. But I’ll know more when I get there,” you shrugged.

“Do you want help?” Sam offered.

“I’m sure you guys have bigger fish to fry,” you shook your head quickly. Ready to bolt out of there. “I’ll call if I need anything.”

“Afraid of us meeting your family or something?” Dean stood up and walked up to you.

You glared up at him, “look, if you just want to come with, you can just say it.”

His lips tugged up at the corner, “come on, Sammy, grab your stuff.”

You puffed out a deep breath, “this ought to be fun.”

The impala parked next to your beat-up truck; you fished out your keys as you made your way to your building. Sam and Dean walked up behind you. You were still annoyed at their being there with you. It wasn’t so much; you didn’t want them to meet your brother. But more of your not wanting your brother to be part of the hunting world. It was your way of protection him. Sure, Matt had met Andy and Garth but no one else. And now, you were bringing the Winchesters to your door. You weren’t sure, it was a great idea.

You unlocked your door, Dean and Sam followed you inside. You dropped the keys on the table near the door, and you moved to your brother’s side. He was sleeping on your couch. Meanwhile, Dean and Sam took a look around your apartment. Up on your wall, next to your television, was a picture of four kids. Three out of four kids were sitting down, while the one he recognized as you, stood behind all three, with your arms around their shoulders. Looked like a school picture.

Your apartment looked lived in, it was neat, with some green plants here and there. There was a bookshelf in the small space near the couch, with some collectibles placed on it. A real nerd. He shook his head, turning back to you, your brother sitting up, slightly coming back to the land of the living.

“Go wash up your face, stupid,” you slapped his leg. “I’ll get some coffee ready for you.”

“Who are the lumberjacks?” Matt yawned.

“I’m Sam,” Sam was the first to introduce himself. “And that’s my brother, Dean. We’re friends of your sister.”

“Barely,” Dean mumbled, and you glared at him.

“So, you weren’t lying, you do have friends.” Matt teased you.

You stood up, before slapping his shoulder, “get going already.”

“So, we’re friends, now?” Dean said with a smug smile on his lips.

“Shut up.”

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cheshirecat484

1 year ago

You know what, I'd be acting the same way if Frank Castle was standing shirtless in front of me. I can't contest reader at all 😂

You're Safe With Me [Chapter Five]

Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader

[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of chapters for You're Safe With Me here.]

Warnings: 18+; series contains violence, mentions of mass shootings, angst and comfort, slow burn romance, enemies to lovers, eventual smut

Word Count:6.4

a/n: A little sexual tension presents itself in this chapter, and Reader and Frank bond a little more. You also get a brief Frank POV at the end! Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @lunaticgurly @allaboardthereadingrailroad @linamarr @hollandorks @sleeperthelazy @marcysbear @mattkinsella @mattmurdocksstarlight @xxdrixx @v4leoftears @aoi-targaryen @danzer8705 @anon-cat-posts @heimtathurs @kmc1989 @thepunisherfrankcastle @agirlcandream84 @americaarse

The young woman behind the Happy Lodger Motel's front desk warily eyed the folded stack of cash Frank had handed her. Gradually her focus drifted up towards you, silently eyeing you up and down for a moment. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that she was taking in your disheveled appearance and dirty hair. You shifted your weight back and forth on your feet, becoming uncomfortable under her scrutiny as you sent her a tense smile. You figured she was wondering if Frank had abducted you–truthfully that look was a look you'd gotten often with his gruff appearance at your side. Or maybe she was just making sure you weren't a prostitute.

"So, two queen beds, was it?" she asked.

The woman’s attention finally returned back to the computer monitor before her, her fingers slowly tapping at the keyboard.

"Yes, ma'am," Frank replied.

At his curt and polite reply, her hand’s stopped their typing and hovered above the keyboard. One of her dark brows rose up onto her forehead as she scanned Frank over the top of her monitor. You saw the moment something shifted in the way her eyes lingered on him, her head tilting a bit to the side as her gaze openly surveyed his face with interest. Your own eyes fell down towards your feet, an uncomfortable feeling unfurling in your gut at her flirtatious stare. Beside you, Frank loudly cleared his throat.

"Room seven is open," she told him. "As long as this really is sixty-five dollars."

You glanced back up, watching as the woman unfolded the stack of cash in her hand and began counting it, intentionally taking her time. From its place along the edge of the desk, you noticed Frank's finger tapping rapidly in barely contained irritation while she did. You bit back the smile threatening to form on your mouth, enjoying his frustration.

When she finally finished counting the bills twice , she spun her chair around, scooting it back before grabbing a key from the wall behind her, the number seven clearly written on the tag. She wheeled her chair back over to the pair of you, holding the key out to Frank. He snatched it quickly, shooting her a tight lipped smile. After, he turned to face you, gesturing his head towards the door behind himself.

“C’mon,” he muttered.

With a sigh you followed obediently after him, readjusting the strap of your duffle bag on your shoulder as you walked. Frank pushed the door of the motel’s office open, stepping outside before he stopped to hold it open for you. Hesitating for a moment just before the doorway, you were caught off guard by the unexpected display of politeness from him. But the second the muscle in his cheek jumped, you ducked your head and slipped past him, making your way to your left towards the line of motel room doors.

“Looks like we’re at the end,” Frank said from just behind you.

Wordlessly you made your way all the way down the sidewalk to the last door, stopping in front of the one with a large seven hanging unevenly along it. Moving to the side, you leant up against the building as Frank stepped over to the door and placed the key into the lock. Your eyes drifted across the street to where you spotted a gas station situated next to a bar. Reading the sign atop the bar with its name vibrantly displayed, an amused snort of laughter slipped out of you. Frank opened the motel door, shooting you a curious look at the sound as he pulled the key from the lock.

“What?” he asked.

You pointed across the street to the bar with the obnoxious neon sign flashing on top of it. Frank turned, his eyes following the direction of your finger.

“The Flaming Rose?” you pointed out.

Frank focused back on you, his face emotionless. “Yeah?” he asked. “That supposed to mean somethin’?”

“No, I mean it just–” you paused, shaking your head as you pushed off of the building, “–seems like such a stereotypical biker bar in a small town,” you finished lamely.

Frank grunted in response, whether it was in agreement or annoyance was undecipherable to you. Ignoring his stony expression, you stepped past him and into the motel room–and then you laughed again when you actually saw the room.

The carpet, though very noticeably discolored and stained, was leopard print. The wallpaper on the walls was torn in many places, but they were also covered in a leopard print that had clearly faded over the years from the sun. And on both beds were leopard print comforters and pillows.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much animal print in one place,” you said in amazement, heading over to the furthest bed as Frank closed the door behind himself. “I mean it’s–it’s on the walls, the floor, and the bedsheets. They definitely committed to the theme here.”

“It’s a bed at least,” Frank muttered.

“One I definitely wouldn’t want to see under a black light,” you said under your breath.

As you dropped your duffle bag on the end of the mattress, you heard Frank let out a chuckle behind you. You instantly froze at the mirthful sound coming from the man who barely expressed emotion. Looking over your shoulder at him behind you, you spotted Frank slipping out of his thick jacket, an amused smirk on his face as he tossed his coat on his bed. When he realized you were watching him he looked up, his eyes studying you.

“Did you just…laugh?” you asked him in awe.

“‘Bout as surprised that you can make a joke, Spunky,” he shot back.

Your face fell at the irksome nickname he’d given you. It had seemed to stick for the past couple of days now and it grated on your nerves every time he called you that. Sighing in irritation, you sunk down on the edge of the bed, your eyes scanning around the room as one of your hands reached up, pushing your dirty hair from off your face.

Truthfully you’d love a chance to shower right now. It was going on almost three days since you’d last had one and you were positive you didn’t smell pleasant at this point. Even a fresh change of clothing would be welcomed right about now. But with the way Frank had kept you tied up in his van, then tied up in the previous motel room before you’d both had to run, and then stuck in his van all day today until right now, you hadn’t had much of an opportunity.

As your attention returned to Frank where he was currently surveying the parking lot outside the window, you nervously began to chew your lip. Would he even let you shower? Or was he planning to tie you back up now that you weren’t on the road? Even though the pair of you had fallen into a more comfortable silence with each other after your stop at Denny’s earlier today, you still hadn’t gotten a good read on Frank. Most of the time he seemed focused and detached, barely paying you any attention, though on occasion he’d been almost comforting–in his own way.

Figuring Frank would never break the silence if you didn’t, probably content to be quiet the rest of the night, you cleared your throat and decided to be the one to break it. At the noise, he half-turned towards you, that impassive look on his face.

“You’re not uh…planning to, you know, tie me to the headboard again, are you?” you asked him cautiously. “Now that we’re not on the road?”

“Do I need to?” he asked back.

Pressing your lips together, you slowly shook your head. “No,” you answered. “I’m not–not going to run anywhere, I swear.” Your shoulders drooped as you glanced down, your hands fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. “I wouldn’t have anywhere to go, anyway. I don’t even have a phone since you smashed it on the side of the road.”

"Just don't leave the room," he said. "'S'all I ask."

"So you don't–don't mind if I actually shower then, do you?" you asked in a small voice, peering up at him from under your lashes. Some unknown emotion flashed across his face and you quickly added in a rush, "It's just been a few days and I don't know when I'll get a chance again and–"

"Go on and shower,” he cut you off, something akin to guilt in his tone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t–” he stopped mid-sentence, his focus dropping down to the floor as he hung his head. One of his hands reached up, rubbing awkwardly over the top of his head. “Go shower. Use the bathroom,” he urged, still avoiding looking at you. “I ain’t–ain’t tryin’ to stop you from taking care of yourself.”

For a second you sat on the edge of the mattress, curiously watching him. It was indeed guilt that you saw on full display from him right now. Bottom lip slowly slipping between your teeth, you slid off the edge of the bed and picked up your duffle bag before shuffling through the motel room towards the bathroom. You pushed the door open wider before reaching a hand in, flipping on the lightswitch. Stepping inside, you set your duffle bag onto the floor and then turned, focusing on your disheveled state in the bathroom mirror. Though you promptly shrieked at what you spotted on the wall behind you.

Darting backwards in fright, you nearly tripped over your own feet as you tried to place as much distance between yourself and the giant spider on the bathroom wall. You had barely taken two steps back before you bumped into something solid directly behind you, blocking your path. Startled, you spun on your heel and saw Frank behind you with a serious look on his face, his gun drawn and at the ready. The sight of the weapon in his hands had your heart thundering loud in your ears, your eyes wide as you saw him push past you and sweep the small space from left to right, ready to shoot an intruder. Though he quickly realized there was none.

Lowering his gun, he turned back towards you from his place in the middle of the bathroom, a dark expression on his face. You shrank back from his furious glare instinctively.

"You wanna tell me what the hell that was about?" he snapped.

"There was a–a spider," you admitted sheepishly.

Pointing a trembling hand at the giant black insect still clinging to the wall, embarrassment flooded you. Frank’s hardened stare followed your movement, his eyes landing on the spider. He scoffed loudly, shaking his head and running a hand down his face.

"You kiddin' me?" he shot out, his glare piercing through you. "Don't you ever scream like that for a goddamn spider again. Is that clear?"

You nodded swiftly in response. Frank curled his large hand into a fist before he swung it with precision at the wall. You flinched at the resounding thud as he smashed the insect in one swift movement, his glare never leaving you.

"Here I was thinkin’ someone was in here," he continued to rage, taking an intimidating step towards you which only caused you to take an involuntary step back, cowering against the wall, "and it’s just you terrified of a spider. I think you need to take a moment and reevaluate what an actual threat is here, sweetheart."

The burn of tears was in your eyes as he towered above you, his nostrils flaring with each of his sharp, enraged exhales. His dark eyes were practically on fire as they bore down on you. Under that furious stare of his you weren’t even sure if you were breathing anymore.

Truthfully you hadn't meant to scream; it had been a gut reaction. You hated spiders and weren't expecting to find such a large one just out in the open here. And you'd been so on edge ever since those men had broken into your house that you'd been unable to stop the scream from flying out of you when you'd spotted it.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, wiping a hand at your watery eyes. "I didn't mean to. Didn't think you'd–you'd come in here like that. I just–it just–just startled me. I won't–"

You broke off mid-sentence, eyes focusing on the dead spider on the wall as your teeth clamped together, struggling to fight back a sob. You would not break down in front of Frank.

A moment later you heard him release a rough exhale, the sound drawing your blurry vision back up towards him. The tension had visibly eased from his muscles as his hand rose up, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Just don't scream unless someone is actually tryin' to kill you, alright?" he growled, annoyed.

"Okay," you breathed out.

Without another word, Frank stalked off out of the bathroom, closing the door behind himself as he went. It was a few seconds before you released the breath you'd been holding, leaning up against the bathroom counter and trying to calm down. That man was absolutely terrifying when he was angry and you did not want to be on the other side of that anger ever again.

You took a minute to collect yourself after that encounter with Frank before you headed over to the shower, turning it on and letting the water warm up. Not wanting to risk losing your chance to finally get clean, you decided to push aside whatever that moment with Frank had been and focus solely on the shower right now.

°•°•°•°•°•°

Curled up on top of the obnoxious and scratchy leopard print comforter, you’d long ago let your eyes drift closed as you rested your head on the matching lumpy leopard print pillow. Listening to the shower running in the other room, you had slowly begun to relax as you lay there. Thankfully Frank hadn’t decided to zip tie your hands to the headboard again while he washed up in the bathroom, displaying a show of trust on his part that you weren’t about to just run while he was indisposed. Though as you told him earlier, you had nowhere to go. Especially not with the dangerous people out there who were looking for you.

Before heading into the bathroom to shower, Frank had told you that he planned to figure out something for the both of you to eat for dinner when he was finished. And you were grateful for that considering how your stomach had been incessantly growling for a while now. Since Frank wouldn't let you leave the room, it wasn’t like you could exactly go out and find something to eat yourself. It didn’t help that you hadn’t eaten much today other than a beef jerky stick from a gas station a few hours ago and those eggs you’d picked at over lunch earlier when he’d stopped at that Denny’s.

At least things between you and Frank seemed to be moving in a better direction today, though. Despite the fact that he’d just reprimanded you in the bathroom for screaming over a spider, it seemed like he was beginning to trust you a bit more. And you were admittedly beginning to trust him just a little bit in return, especially after what had happened at the previous motel you’d stayed at. He had, after all, saved your life–even if you weren’t ecstatic about the way in which he had. Though he’d had a point, one you were trying hard to come to terms with. Right now, it really was you or these militia members, and if you were forced to choose, you’d rather be the one still breathing over any of the members of that terrorist group.

But Frank remained a confusing mystery to you. The media had painted the Punisher as someone who wasn’t quite right in the head after having witnessed his family murdered right in front of him. And then he’d gone on multiple killing sprees afterwards–as the news portrayed it–seeking revenge on the people responsible for killing his family. And while that wasn’t how things were supposed to be done when it came to justice, all of the people Frank had killed had been criminals. And admittedly what Frank had been through was horrible, something you couldn’t even possibly imagine living through and not wanting to seek revenge yourself. There was a part of you that had begun to understand that Frank wasn’t crazy and overtly murderous because of his actions.

You still remembered hearing all of the stories about Frank in the news and hearing the chatter about him at WGN’s news station back in the day. Everyone had thought he was insane and a mass murderer. Truthfully, at the time, he had sounded like a terrifying nightmare to you, too. You had been grateful that he was New York City’s problem and not Chicago’s. But now you were beginning to wonder just how accurate the media portrayal of him had been.

Despite his violent tendencies and rough exterior, Madani had trusted him to protect you. She was a federal agent after all, one who would surely not have done that if she’d thought he was an absolute untrustworthy monster. On top of that, he had risked his life for you and attempted to offer you comfort afterwards. He could have just let you walk out of that motel room and see all those dead bodies lying in the parking lot–but he hadn’t. And he’d been adamant earlier today that you understood how serious he was about keeping you safe when he’d noticed you getting upset at lunch. And just a bit ago he had even seemed guilty about how he’d been treating you, even if it was just a hint of guilt that you’d seen on him.

That all had to mean something, right? Because to you, he didn’t quite seem as heartless and monstrous as the media had portrayed him. Angry and violent, yes, but not crazy and certainly not a ruthless mass murderer. He was nothing like those people that were part of the Patriot Militia that were actually opening fire on innocent people just to push their agenda, the same ones then chasing after you to make sure that truth didn’t see the light of day.

No, maybe Frank Castle wasn’t as dangerous as he’d initially seemed. Or at least, not as dangerous to you as you’d first thought.

“Thinkin’ about making a quick run for food,” Frank’s gravelly voice said, breaking through your thoughts. “Maybe to a fast food joint close by.”

Eyes opening at the sound of his voice, you figured you'd try to pitch the idea you'd had earlier when he'd first gone to shower.

“I was actually thinking,” you began, gradually pushing yourself upright on the bed, “that we could hit up that bar across the street. I’m sure they’ve got–”

Your sentence died in your throat when Frank came into your line of sight, bending over and digging through the opened duffle bag on his bed. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans but no shirt, his hair still a bit damp as he ran a hand through it. You could see a few beads of water slowly making their way down the vast, muscular expanse of his back, your eyes mesmerized by their slow descent as they trailed down his skin.

“Sure they got what?” Frank asked.

Blinking hard a few times, you realized you hadn’t finished your thought, having been distracted by his muscular upper body currently on full display. It was even more on display when he turned towards you, holding a black long sleeve shirt in his hands as he eyed you curiously through narrowed eyes. You had to force your focus back up to his face, your cheeks flaming at the possibility that you’d just been caught checking him out. You hoped he hadn’t realized that’s what you had been doing, though you’d surprised even yourself that you had been. But you hadn’t expected Frank to have such very defined abdominal muscles and surprisingly large pectorals on that broad chest of his. The loose-fitting shirt and thick jacket he’d been wearing the past two days had certainly hidden all that brawn from you.

“Food,” you finished awkwardly, your face still burning. “I’m sure they’ve got food there. And I personally could uh, use a beer,” you continued, noticing the way the muscles on his upper body flexed as he slipped the shirt up and over his head. “After–after all of…this.”

His hands tugged the hem of his shirt all the way down, covering his bare chest from your view. Though you couldn’t help but notice that the shirt he’d just put on was vastly tighter than the previous one he’d been wearing. You also couldn’t help but notice how thick his arms were or how the material of this shirt clung to those large pectorals of his.

“You want to go to a bar?” Frank repeated slowly, his dark brows knitting together. “To drink? Right now?”

“Well we need food,” you pointed out, trying hard to focus on the argument you’d planned out in your head a bit ago and not the way Frank shirtless had suddenly made you feel a little shy. “And we’re stuck here for the night anyway. If we’re across the street you can keep an eye on the motel. See if we were followed. No one would expect us to be at a bar, right? They'd expect us to be in this room.”

Frank grunted in response as he ran a hand over his mouth, clearly thinking about it. Your nails plucked at the material of your jeans as you waited for his response. Inevitably the image of him shirtless raced through your mind and you averted your gaze from him, chewing the inside of your cheek. Why the hell were you thinking about Frank Castle like that?

“I suppose,” he finally answered, his hand dropping from his face before he pointed a firm finger at you. “Just as long as you don’t go gettin’ piss drunk on me. I ain’t carryin’ your ass anywhere and I don’t need you hungover and pukin’ in my van tomorrow.”

“Fair,” you replied, tossing your legs over the side of the bed and rising to your feet. “I don’t want to get wasted, I just want a drink.”

Frank grunted again before he turned, reaching across the bed to grab his jacket. He slung it on before he glanced back at you, his eyes scanning you up and down for a moment.

“Don’t you have a coat or somethin’? It’s cold outside,” he said.

You shrugged, crossing your arms over your chest. “I didn’t have a chance to grab one when I jumped out of my bedroom window,” you told him. “I only have a few things.”

“Gonna have to get you a coat then, Spunky,” Frank muttered, turning and making his way towards the door. “Can’t have you freezin’ to death on me.”

You followed after him, frowning at the nickname. “Why do you keep calling me that?” you blurted.

Frank swung the door open, stepping outside before he glanced back at you. “‘Cause you’re a pain in the ass,” he stated.

Frown deepening, you stepped out onto the sidewalk beside him, hugging your arms tighter around yourself in the cold. “And you’re a ray of sunshine yourself,” you snapped back. “I don’t like the name.”

“Good, that’s why I keep usin’ it,” he told you as he locked the door behind you.

Turning around, he began to make his way through the motel parking lot, depositing the room key into his jacket pocket as he walked. For a moment you just stood there in front of room seven, openly gaping at him. He had been calling you that to purposely irritate you?

“Get moving before I change my mind,” Frank called over his shoulder at you. “ Spunky .”

Eyes narrowing at his back, you began to follow after him in a huff. If he wanted to give you an irritating nickname, you’d give him one, too.

“Right behind you, Sunshine ,” you shot back.

A bark of a laugh flew out of Frank, his head turning over his shoulder. There was an amused grin on his face, one that actually reached his eyes as he slowed his pace, allowing you to catch up to him. Eventually you fell in step beside him, unable to hide the triumphant smile growing on your face at having managed to make him genuinely laugh.

“Wouldn’t have expected you to be funny,” Frank commented.

“Wouldn’t have expected you to have a sense of humor,” you shot back.

A light chuckle fell out of him next, the sound keeping that pleased smile on your lips. Out of the corner of your eye you saw his grin had morphed into a smile. He looked vastly less intimidating when he smiled like that.

“Keep it up,” Frank began, “and maybe you won’t be so goddamn irritating to be stuck with all day.”

“And what does that get me?” you asked him curiously as you both crossed the street. “Radio privileges?”

“Nah,” Frank said with a definitive shake of his head. “You’re not putting on some pop bullshit in my van.”

“Who says I listen to pop bullshit?”

The pair of you headed up towards the bar and you weren’t remotely surprised to see the line of motorcycles peeking out from around the side of it. The Flaming Rose was a stereotypical biker bar, just as you’d expected.

“Guess I don’t know what you listen to,” Frank mused as he reached a hand out, opening the bar door and holding it open for you. “But you aren’t playing your shit in my van," he repeated, shooting you a pointed look. "I’ll tell you that right now. Road trip rule number one, Spunky–driver picks the music.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping past him and into the poorly lit little dive bar. The sound of billiard balls clacking together met your ears, a Jimi Hendrix song playing just loud enough over the speakers. There were a couple of televisions above the bar currently airing the news. As your eyes continued to scan the room, Frank came to a stop just at your side. You noticed the bar wasn’t very full this evening; there were a few bikers in leather cuts situated at a couple of tables and you spotted what you assumed to be the ‘regulars’ who were half bent over the bar counter, hands clutching a glass or a bottle of beer as their eyes blankly stared at the news channels.

Frank’s arm nudged yours, drawing your attention back to him at your side. You looked up at him, your brows rising onto your forehead in a silent question. He was currently scanning the bar himself, clearly looking for threats.

“Why don’t you grab a table?” he suggested. “I’ll grab us some beers and somethin’ to eat. I’m guessin’ you eat pizza, right? ‘Cause it looks like they got pizza.”

“I’d eat a shoe right now,” you joked.

At that, Frank glanced down at you, a hint of amusement in his eye. Then he gestured his chin away from the bar, the glint in his eye disappearing as quick as it had appeared.

“Go on. Grab a table,” he ordered.

“Sure thing, Sunshine,” you replied.

You caught the amused huff he emitted with a shake of his head before you turned, making your way across the bar to an empty table. At least he wasn't being a surly asshole to you tonight. That was progress.

Climbing up into the tall and unsteady chair, you glanced out the window to your left. You'd intentionally grabbed a table with a view of the motel across the street so Frank could keep an eye on it. Resting your chin in your hand, you stared out the window in silence, your mind blissfully blank for once. Though you could feel the exhaustion of the past few days settling in on you like a heavy weight on your shoulders. Hopefully you could manage a decent sleep tonight without waking up to people trying to kill you. The memory of what had happened not quite twenty-four hours ago still sent a chill down your spine.

It was a few minutes before Frank appeared, sitting down in the chair across from you as he set two beers on the table, sliding one towards you. Head turning in his direction, you reached out a hand and grabbed the cold bottle, softly muttering a thanks. Frank nodded once, shrugging out of his thick jacket before pulling his own bottle to his lips for a deep drink.

You drew your own beer up to your lips, your eyes scanning the bar as you quickly began to drink it down. The energy of the Flaming Rose seemed surprisingly flat except for the two men playing pool in the far corner. Your eyes eventually slid to the wall behind them, spotting the dart board hanging on the wood paneled wall. For a moment you remembered the times you’d hit up the bars with your friends in Chicago, throwing back a few drinks and playing a few games of darts. Right now, that felt like another lifetime ago.

“What?”

Your head spun back towards Frank at the sound of his voice, taking in the way he was slouched back in his chair looking entirely at ease. One of his hands was absently twirling his beer bottle along the table, his dark eyes watching you. A sudden nervousness washed over you under his stare.

“You just sighed and looked all forlorn,” he observed. “What’s that about?”

Eyes flickering back towards the dart board, you shook your head. But Frank had caught your gaze, turning his head to follow it. He hummed out a noise before he focused back on you.

“You play darts?” he asked.

You shrugged a shoulder, your eyes dropping back down to the beer in front of you. “A little,” you told him. “Just something my friends and I used to do some nights.”

“Bet I’d kick your ass,” he challenged, sitting forward in his chair. “You look like you can’t aim worth a damn.”

Eyes making their way up towards his face, you spotted the smug smirk stretched across his lips. For a moment your eyes lingered on his mouth, the image of him standing beside his bed shirtless flashing through your mind. Goosebumps rose along your arms beneath your shirt as you began to wonder just how solid that chest of his would actually feel beneath your hands.

Clearing your throat, you tried to ignore the heat once again rising to your cheeks. You weren’t sure why you were thinking about Frank like that, but it needed to stop. Especially before he noticed.

“You’re probably right,” you agreed. “Not all of us were blessed with your good aim.”

“What?” he asked in shock, his eyebrows shooting up onto his forehead. “No smartass comeback from you? I’m surprised and a little disappointed, Spunky.”

Rolling your eyes, you raised your beer to your lips. If you hadn’t known better you’d have wondered if he was trying to flirt with you this evening. But you did, in fact, know better. The two of you clearly needed a chance to bond and break the weird tension that had only grown ever since he’d thrown you into the back of his van. After all, you were going to be stuck together for a while. He was just trying to be his version of friendly, that was all.

Frank’s attention abruptly turned towards the bar, lowering his beer back to the table. His other hand patted the tabletop twice before he slipped out of his chair.

“Pizza’s ready,” he told you. “Stay put.”

Your stomach let out a grumble at the prospect of food as you watched him head over to the bar with that swagger in his step you’d started to notice he often had. Eyes following his form as he made his way around a few tables, you couldn’t help but stare at his back and the muscles noticeable beneath his shirt.

°•°•°•°•°•°

“So what else are the road trip rules?”

Frank’s attention remained focused on the window to his right where he had been quietly watching the motel the entire time he had been eating. So far nothing out of the ordinary had caught his attention since you’d both been here; it seemed like tonight might be more uneventful than last night. Which was good. He hated to admit it, but your idea of coming here for a bit to scope out the motel had been a good one. Though he’d deny it if you asked.

But your voice had cut through his focus, drawing him back to the present with you here in the bar. He’d noticed you’d been less chatty once he’d brought the pizza to the table. And then when he’d seen how quickly you’d put down the food, he’d felt guilty realizing just how hungry you had been. While he might be able to focus on his mission, managing to get by with eating the occasional bite of food and thriving on gas station coffees, he mentally noted that he needed to pay more attention to your needs. Especially when it came to making sure you’d had a chance to fucking shower. Fuck , he still felt like a massive asshole with how small you’d sounded just asking if it was okay for you to wash up. How could he have been such a dick?

But now that you’d both finished eating, Frank assumed you were trying to strike up a conversation with him again. He figured it was so you could get to know him better, maybe to feel less like he’d abducted you outside of Ruby’s Diner a few days ago. He’d been trying his best to be a little less closed off with you, opening up just a bit. If he was going to be stuck with you for a bit, he might as well try to ease your fears of him.

Plus, he really didn’t like when you looked at him with those wide, terrified doe-eyes of yours. Or the way you’d duck your head and speak softly, like you were afraid he’d go off on you. He wanted you to feel safe around him. Wanted you to understand he wasn’t going to hurt you, even if you irritated him sometimes. Like when you’d shrieked over that goddamn spider in the bathroom tonight. He’d grabbed his gun instantly, assuming someone had been lying in wait in the bathroom somehow, and rushed straight to you in a panic, terrified you’d been hurt. But no, you’d gotten worked up over a bug .

He’d done his best to rein in his temper then, too. But still–you’d had those terrified doe-eyes of yours again and spoken in that soft voice. Afraid of him. Clearly on the verge of tears. So when you’d loosened up with him a bit on the way over to the bar, actually cracking some jokes, he’d done his best to drop his guard a bit. Which he figured he should probably try to do with you again now, just a bit.

Just to ease your fears around him, that was the only reason.

“Don’t touch my radio,” Frank answered you.

“Okay, we’ve established that,” you pointed out. “What else?”

Frank’s attention shifted away from the window and over towards where you were sitting across the table from him. His eyes followed the beer in your hand as you drew it to your mouth, wrapping your lips around the bottle before throwing the last of it back.

“No leaving motel rooms or the van without my permission,” he added. “Don’t need you disappearing on me if trouble is around.”

You nodded once, setting your beer back onto the table. “No unsanctioned bathroom trips without a hall pass, got it.”

He couldn’t fight the grin that pulled the corner of his lips upwards. You really were funny. It was a welcome surprise to him.

“No stupid road trip games, either,” he told you.

He saw the way you rolled your eyes at him before you spoke.

“Why would you even need to make that a rule?” you asked.

Frank shrugged, enjoying the way you seemed lighter than you had since he’d met you. It made him feel good knowing that he had been able to distract you from your situation, even if for a little bit. You’d seemed to really be struggling with that all day, silently lost in your mind as he drove. You probably figured he hadn’t noticed, but he had.

“Seem like the kinda person who’d play I Spy or some other equally stupid ass game,” Frank replied. “Not my sorta thing.”

“I get the impression not much is,” you muttered, glancing over at the bar.

Frank laughed, shaking his head. You were at least feeling comfortable enough to give him shit. He liked that. Though his laughter quickly subsided when he saw you stiffen in your chair, your back straightening as you focused on the television above the bar. He turned, his eyes squinting as he quickly read the closed caption on the screen. There’d been a shooting at a grocery store in Glen Allen, Virginia. Three were dead, seven injured.

Frank’s attention returned to you, his eyes narrowing further as he studied your abrupt shift in demeanor closely. You looked like you were about to be sick and your hands had a death grip on the bar table. Something about that story had upset you, and he had a feeling it was somehow linked to whatever it was you were involved in with the Patriot Militia. Madani hadn’t been too forthright with the details.

“I want to go,” you said, abruptly sliding out of the chair.

Frank’s brow furrowed at your sudden desire to leave. Wordlessly he rose from his chair, watching your body language as you wrapped your arms around yourself, hunching forward and focusing on your feet. Something was clearly bothering you, but you’d quickly just closed yourself off to him. He’d have to pry for answers later.

“Alright,” he assented, pulling on his jacket. “Let’s go.”

Without waiting, you spun on your heel and headed towards the exit. Your head remained ducked down as you made your way out of the bar and Frank couldn’t help but wonder what had affected your mood so drastically from that news story.

331 notes View Post

cheshirecat484

1 year ago

As a bag balm fan, I'm insulted. But also I totally understand lol, maybe try Aquaphor or Vaseline! A bit pricier but works really well, and doesn't smell like sheep.

Me, to a group: hey it's like bitter cold and my skin's killing me, old lotion isn't cutting it

Group: try bag balm, it's amazing! Cheap! Farmers use it on their hands and put it on a cow's udders in cold weather! We swear by it!

Me: cool, I'll grab some!

Me, 2 days later:

I SMELL

LIKE FUCKING

SHEEP

53 notes View Post

cheshirecat484

9 months ago

Saving this for later! <33

Fic Recs (Harry Potter Editon III)

All fics are fem!reader

Marvel One Two Three Harry Potter One Two Three Stranger Things One Two Three Four Five Specific Characters Tangerine Masterlist

Why Didn’t We Work Out? by @astonishment

Pairing: James Potter x Reader Summary: “James Potter had two girlfriends in his seventh yeat at Hogwarts. Y/N Y/L/N, who he dated for five months; and Lily Evans, who he dated afterwards. When he’s dared to call one of his exes, guess who’s number he dials…”

Morning Coffee by @thewriterghost

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x Reader Summary: “You bring morning coffee to the boys.”

Not So Secret Admirer by @kquil (Part Two)

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader Summary: “you can't hide your adoration for remus lupin and often end up staring at him, good thing he thinks you're really cute”

With All Due Respect by @writesowhatnext

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader Summary: “Remus and the reader are best friends and that’s it and it’s so absurd that Remus keeps insisting that they’re anything more, right?”

Never His by @weasleykisses

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader Summary: “when James needs help asking out Lily, he enlists you to play his fake girlfriend to make her jealous. In the process, you end up making Remus Lupin green with envy.”

Dealbreaker by @luveline

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader Summary: “you work in a bookstore. sirius keeps finding reasons to need books. ”

Pretty Boy by @alwaysmoncheri

Pairing: James Potter x Reader Summary: “you think james is really pretty—unfortunately for you, sirius notices and decides to take matters into his own hands”

Dizzy by @moonstruckme

Pairing: Roommate!James Potter x Reader Summary: “when your roommate James comes home after a night out with his friends, he's acting even more affectionate than usual”

Coach P. by @soupandsimple

Pairing: Coach!James Potter x Teacher!Reader Summary: “gym coach James being called out by a student for often visiting you during their art class”

Flirtation by @moonstruckme

Pairing: Sirius Black x Shy!Reader Summary: “when Sirius won't stop tormenting you with pet names, you think to take revenge, but he doesn't react as you expected”

521 notes View Post

cheshirecat484

1 year ago

Omg please add me to the taglist!! I'm so excited to read more <33

WIP poll game

rules: make a 24-hour poll with the names of your wips, let it run, then write one sentence for every vote the winner got

Ahhh thank you for the tag @chvoswxtch

I’m not going to tag anyone because I’m very new and don’t want to force anybody but let me know which WIP you want me to post a part of!

Always Waiting for You

Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings/tags: 18+; fluff, pining, friends to lovers, slow burn, angst, canon typical violence, eventual smut, use of pet names & nicknames (no y/n)

In the beginning you'd been content helping your grandmother run Springwood, the quaint bed and breakfast she had owned and ran for most of her life. You'd grown a fondness for Springwood over the years, already having long since known your grandmother wished to eventually pass the bed and breakfast onto you. But the more you got to know the curious Winchester brothers every time they sporadically turned up to rent rooms, the more you'd begun to long for a little something more in your life. You soon found yourself becoming close friends with the brothers–even after finding out what they really did–and you easily found yourself falling for Sam. But the pair of you only ever remained close friends as the years passed by despite you always secretly holding onto the hope that he'd someday finally stop trying to protect you from himself and his life.

Installment List

1| First Meetings {Coming Soon}

131 notes View Post

cheshirecat484

8 months ago

I'm sad that it's over, but this was such a lovely end to it! I love how you tied up the loose end with her sister, and gave us a somewhat vague, but still sweet idea of what the future for these characters would be.

One part I loved was that Reader got a job, and is becoming her own person, outside of Billy, but still with him by her side, it's really great to see that development.

I loved this entire fic, so if I'm not already on the next taglist, feel free to add me, your writing is fantastic!

Thank you for the amazing fic, and I can't wait to see more!

Take Care Author! <3

I'm Sad That It's Over, But This Was Such A Lovely End To It! I Love How You Tied Up The Loose End With

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Epilogue

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smut and fluff. A lot more violence than usual. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 4.3k

A/N : 😭

MASTER LIST

Epilogue

It wasn’t easy.

But, then, when had anything in your life ever really been easy?

In the weeks that followed, you struggled to adapt to your new reality, your body waking you at daybreak and having you exhausted by nightfall, suffering with pangs of hunger that seemed almost unquenchable. Both Frank and Billy told you it would get better, that you would adjust, but that didn’t stop the occasional breakdown, the moments where everything felt like it was too much.

You watched as Billy’s heart broke over and over again, when he’d find you on the floor in your kitchen, sobbing and eating oreos, or walking around the penthouse in the middle of the day so exhausted that you could barely function.

On the bad days, he would take you into his rooms, close the curtains and hold you in pitch blackness, softly shushing you as you sobbed in his arms, whispering gentle apologies in your ear.

Feeding wasn’t any easier; you still gagged and felt sick sometimes, and certain kinds of blood didn’t seem to agree with you.

Finally you understood why Billy had made you follow such strict rules when it came to your health and diet as sometimes, some blood left you feeling ill like you’d eaten something that had gone off. And, as your senses became more acute, it only seemed to get worse.

But, eventually, a solution was found to every problem; Billy stayed with you for weeks, helping you adjust to your new day/night cycle, and special blood was ordered for you once he figured out exactly what you needed. And, once those issues were sorted, your breakdowns became fewer until you finally felt like you could handle your new life.

After that, the only issue left was Billy and your relationship.

You loved him, and you knew that he loved you, but you needed time. Everything between you had happened so quickly and it felt like you’d missed out on so many steps. When you finally felt up to it, Billy started to take you out on dates; to dinner, to museum exhibitions, and even to the cinema. Little things, little steps that allowed you to grow closer as a couple. And, at the end of every night, he left you to decide if you wanted to sleep in his bed or your own.

The physical side of your relationship didn’t change or slow; Billy couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of you and you didn’t want him to. Being a vampire made everything feel heightened and you soon got why Billy craved moments of touch and intimacy. But, as far as your relationship went, you took things slowly.

And, after a few months, you were finally able to do what you’d told him you wanted to do. You found a job.

It was only a few nights a week at a local library and, for the first couple of weeks, Billy had insisted on walking you there and back, but he soon had to focus on his own work and you were able to gain the sense of freedom that you sought, both physically and financially.

Billy laughed every time you tried to pay for something or split a check, telling you to spend your money on yourself, on things that you wanted, things that would make you happy. At first, it annoyed you but, as you got closer, and you became privy to things like his finances, you realised just how wealthy he was.

But you didn’t let that deter you. You’d taken a job because you wanted to be able to contribute and that’s exactly what you started doing.

It was a cactus first. A tiny plant that you hoped would grow much bigger. You’d read that, in the right environment and with proper care, some cacti could live hundreds of years and that was what you wanted; something that would stay with you over the decades.

When you’d first brought the tiny little thing into the penthouse, Billy had frowned, then laughed, before getting a little table from the library for it to sit on and placing it by the window.

Over the weeks that followed, you got more plants, more things that made the penthouse feel like a home; cushions, lamps, artwork for the wall. You even insisted on hanging some fairy lights around that, when turned on, gave the place a magical and romantic glow.

And Billy went along with it, never complaining, always helping you, whether it was putting up more shelves for plants, hanging lights, or moving furniture to make space.

Karen gushed over the new furnishings, commenting on how Billy’s bachelor pad now looked like a real home, and your heart melted when he responded that it was a home now that you were in it.

And, every now and then, Billy would turn up with a new stuffed animal for you, until you had a small menagerie of stuffies, each with names more ridiculous than the last, all some loose version of Billy - though he threatened to stop when you announced that one of them was to be called Billiam.

After five months had passed, you’d fallen into a rhythm with Billy and, for the first time in your life, everything felt perfect. You were happy, you were in love. All the self-doubt and uncertainty that you’d carried when you first arrived at the penthouse was gone. And, no matter how much time passed, Billy seemed intent on constantly surprising you and doing everything he could to keep showing you that he loved you.

The moment Karen offered to pick you up after work on your birthday, you knew something was going on, you knew she’d been roped into one of his schemes. But nothing could have prepared you for the surprise party that was waiting for you when the elevator doors slid open and you stepped into the penthouse.

Everybody yelled ‘surprise’ as they jumped from their hiding spots, but the moment your eyes found him, it felt like there was no one else in the room.

He stepped towards you and took your hand in his before kissing you softly.

“Happy birthday, hummingbird,” he said with a smile that always made you feel loved and safe in equal measure.

“Did you do all of this on your own?” You asked, finally letting your gaze drift about the penthouse.

“I had a little bit of help from Karen,” he admitted. “But I do have something else for you, something special that I want you to have before the party really starts.”

You looked at him, searching his face for some idea of what it could be, your mind racing back to the first party you’d attended in the penthouse. But on his face you found something you didn’t expect, an uncertainty, a nervousness, as if he wasn’t sure how you were going to react to his surprise.

“What is it?” You asked.

“I think it’s easier just to show you,” he explained.

Billy didn’t wait for a response before slowly starting to lead you towards the library. Whatever it was, your friends seemed clued in; you caught a reassuring smile from Karen and a nod from Frank. Even Foggy managed to look silently supportive of whatever you were about to face.

As the library door opened, a figure stood up from the sofa.

You froze in the doorway, a thousand different emotions going to war inside you.

“Irene,” your sister's name fell from your lips as little more than a whisper, too quiet for any but Billy to hear it.

She offered an apologetic smile but seemed just as lost for words as you were. Billy’s hand gave yours a reassuring squeeze, letting you know that he was still there and that he’d support you if you needed him to.

Finally she took a step forward.

“You’re all grown up,” she remarked softly and all you could do was nod.

You hand gripped Billy’s even as you managed to take a step, still not sure how you wanted to feel or what you could possibly say to her after so many years apart.

“Billy found me,” she tried to explain, “he told me about what happened and how you ended up here.”

Your eyes flickered to Billy and he saw just how lost you were.

“Madani tracked her down,” he said softly. “I didn’t want to say anything to you until I knew that Irene wanted to see you. I didn’t want to get your hopes up in case she decided that she didn’t want to see you.”

It made sense and you certainly weren’t upset about it, but you still struggled to deal with the situation.

“You left me,” you finally said, voice breaking as you turned your attention back to Irene. “You said you’d come back for me.”

“I -” she started before hesitating, “- I tried. Just before your eighteenth birthday. I came to get you, but dad caught me. He told me that if I ever left with you, he’d make sure I was arrested for kidnapping and I -”

She fell silent again and you watched as she tried to blink back tears. In the silence, you found yourself leaning into Billy’s side.

“I’d just found out I was pregnant,” Irene continued. “I have children now. Three of them. I wanted to take you away with me, but I...”

You watched her wipe a tear from her cheek and your heart ached for her, finally starting to understand what had happened and why she hadn’t come back for you. She had to choose between you and her unborn child, and you couldn’t fault her for putting the baby first.

Nodding, you struggled to find the words. It was overwhelming and, while you didn’t blame Irene or Billy for the situation, you wished that you’d had some warning, some time to prepare all the things you wanted to say to her. Although you’d played this moment over and over in your head since the day she’d left home, you’d never really been able to settle on what you’d say or how you’d feel.

You gave Billy’s hand one last squeeze before letting it go and moving towards Irene.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” he said softly, waiting just a moment to make sure you didn’t need him to stay, before leaving the library and closing the door behind him.

“He seems really nice,” Irene offered, smiling at you.

“He is,” you answered. “He saved my life.”

“Can you tell me about it?” She asked cautiously. “I want to hear about your life, about everything I’ve missed out on.”

You took a seat on the sofa and waited for her to join you, your mind still racing, wondering how you could ever explain the last eleven months of your life to someone who wasn’t there to see it.

“Well, it started when I saw a job advertisement online, just over a year ago...”

Irene sat, mostly quiet, listening as you explained how you needed to leave home in order to escape a forced marriage, just like she had. You told her about coming to New York and how you and Billy had slowly bonded over your shared love of literature, and how it had culminated in you falling in love. Then, with a little less certainty, you told her how you were turned and how your life had been going since that moment.

At some point she’d taken hold of your hand and held it between her own on her lap, her eyes never leaving your face, completely caught up in your story.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you,” she told you at the end.

“It’s okay... I wasn’t on my own.”

You could see that now; Billy, Karen, even Frank, and Matt and Foggy. You had people in your life, people who cared about you. People who looked out for you. (People who would kill for you.)

She looked at her watch and a sadness filled her expression.

“I should let you get back to your party. Tom - my husband - and the kids are at the hotel,” she explained and you visibly brightened.

“You’re staying in the city?”

“Yeah, for a few days. I’d like you to meet my family. If - I mean, if that’s something you’d want to do, I know -”

“You want them to meet me, even though I’m a vampire now?”

“Of course,” she answered without hesitation. “You’re my little sister and I want you back in my life.”

“I’d love to meet them,” you told her, finally finding the strength to throw your arms around your sister’s shoulders and hug her tight.

Her arms wrapped around you and, for a few bittersweet minutes, you stayed like that, both of you trying desperately not to cry. After a few false starts, she managed to pull away from you and you both got to your feet. You walked her out of the library and towards the elevator, making plans to meet the next night so you could finally meet your niece and nephews.

No sooner had the doors slid shut, Billy was at your side, his arms wrapping around you as you pressed your face against his chest. You clung to him, feeling overwhelmed again, feeling so full of emotion that you might burst. His hand stroked your hair and he kissed the top of your head, muttering how much he loved you, holding you until you were ready to enjoy your party.

And you did enjoy it.

The night was spent laughing with your friends with Billy always close to your side, barely able to keep his hands off you for more than a few short minutes at a time. You talked about work and made plans for the future, and Karen managed to ruin one of your birthday surprises by telling you about a two-week polar night cruise around Alaska that Billy and Frank had booked so you could have a couples vacation that was vampire friendly.

Billy was a little upset that his surprise was ruined prematurely, but he seemed to forget all about it when you pulled him close and kissed him deeply, something that you didn’t usually like to do in front of other people.

You drank, ate cake, and laughed the night away, until it was time for your friends to start leaving.

While Billy lingered by the elevator, talking to Frank, you waved farewell to Karen and decided to go get ready for bed, stopping off at your room to pick up a little present you’d been holding onto for Billy that you finally wanted to give him. Then, you made your way to his bedroom.

You quickly washed and changed into a sheer, powder blue negligee, and sat yourself on the edge of his bed next to his gift, waiting for him. It wasn’t long before he joined you, stepping into the room and pausing at the sight of you, making no attempt to hide the way his eyes took in every inch of your body.

Getting to your feet, you twirled, deciding to really give him an eyeful. Billy laughed and, before you knew it, you were laughing too.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what’s all this for?” He asked.

“I want to sleep in here with you, and -” you hesitated a moment as you turned and picked up the carefully wrapped gift and offered it to him, “- I wanted to give you a present.”

“You got me a present?” He looked down at the present in his hands, confused but still smiling. “But it’s your birthday.”

“I know, but it’s for both of us... kind of...” you said, a sudden feeling of nervousness causing a tremor in your voice.

Slowly, carefully, Billy tore open the wrapping and was left more confused than ever by what he found.

“It’s bed linen,” you explained.

“I can see that,” he answered, a hint of uncertain laughter in his tone as he looked at it.

You’d chosen a striking pattern of dark blues and petrol green, dark but still colourful, but it quickly became apparent that it wasn’t the bed linen itself that he didn’t understand, it was the gesture and what it meant.

You took a slow breath and started to explain; “it’s just... well, it’s really dark in here, and if I’m going to start staying in here, I thought we could make it a little brighter, and -”

“You want to stay in my room?” He asked, clearly trying to fight back a smile just in case he was jumping to the wrong conclusion. “You want to move into my room permanently?”

In the time it took you to nod, Billy had dropped the bed linen and cleared the distance between you, his hands framing your face and tilting it up so his lips could find yours. He kissed you with an eager desire that told you all you needed to know; he was happy, he wanted you to move into his room.

“I love you,” he muttered against your lips. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you answered back.

As he kissed you again, your fingers started to tug at his shirt, untucking it from his pants before clumsily pulling open the buttons, so you could touch his bare skin. While you dealt with his shirt, Billy quickly undid and lowered his pants, leading you backwards towards the bed as he stepped out of them.

He kissed you in a way that left you feeling bereft, like you didn’t think he’d ever be able to match the passion and love that he was showing you then, that no moment would ever feel as good as that one did. But it was a silly thought, one you knew was wrong. There was no limit to the depths of his love. And there was none to yours either, not when it came to Billy.

His shirt slipped from his shoulders, joining his pants on the ground just a split-second before you were lifted off your feet and deposited on the bed beneath him. Already, you could feel the hard press of his erection between your thighs, and it was enough to have you moaning against his lips.

For a few wonderful minutes, he was content to stay like that, his body pressed down on top of yours while you kissed. You loved moments like that, moments where there was no frantic rush, moments where it felt like you had all the time in the world to just love and enjoy each other.

Finally, he pulled away from your lips and lifted himself, letting his eyes drift down your body, taking in the sight of you all over again.

“You’re beautiful,” he told you softly, just enjoying the moment of stillness before letting his hand trail over the sheer fabric of your negligee. “And I love this.”

“I thought you might,” you smiled up at him, content to let him take his time.

His hand began to trace the curves of your body through the gossamer fabric, making a point of running his fingers over the ticklish spot on your side that he’d discovered that first night you’d spent together in front of the TV. A smile spread across his lips as you squirmed and giggled beneath him.

“I love you,” he said again.

There was something so serious in his voice, something that had you reaching up to cup his cheek, wanting to settle any terrible thoughts or doubts that might be in his head.

“I know you do, Billy,” you reassured him softly. “And I love you. With all my heart.”

His smile grew wider and whatever had taken hold of him seemed to let go. And, finally, he started to move down your body.

Soft hands slipped up your thighs, fingers hooking the little panties that you wore beneath the negligee and quickly relieving you of them. And, still, despite all the months that you’d spent with him, he always managed to look at you like it was his first time really seeing you. Once your panties were gone, he slowly moved down the bed, settling himself between your thighs, slowly trailing kisses from your knee up your leg.

Even though you were more than used to his lips between your thighs and the way his tongue could make you feel, you still gasped at the first touch, each and every time. In your time together, he’d learned every inch of you and how to make your body shake with pleasure.

Your fingers slipped into his hair and tugged lightly as his tongue slid between your folds. He groaned against you, tasting your arousal before focusing his attention on your clit, circling the throbbing bundle. Unrestrained moans started to fall from your lips and, soon enough, you felt his fingers breach your walls, slowly thrusting into the heat of your body while he undid you with his tongue.

His name fell from your lips over and over as you felt yourself climb higher and higher, your fingers curling tighter in his hair.

You looked down at him, waiting for his permission as pleasure coiled tight inside you and, finally, he gave you the slightest of nods. It was all you needed. You came hard as his fingers and tongue continued to work in concert with each other, trying to prolong your ecstasy until it was too much to bear and your thighs started to tremble violently.

Finally he pulled back, wiping his lips and watching you as your head fell back on the pillow.

“Mmmm,” you hummed, breathless but smiling. “Best birthday present ever.”

“Oh, hummingbird, I’m just getting started,” he muttered.

You didn’t move until prompted, sitting up for him so he could finally remove your negligee, then dropping back to the pillow while he got rid of his boxers. And you watched him, you watched every little move that he made, taking in the sight of him just as he had with you only ten minutes before.

It brought a smile to your face to think how obsessed you still were with each other.

Soon, he was positioned between your thighs again, teasing you, running the leaking tip of his cock between your folds, trailing it up and down from your entrance to your clit until you were needily squirming beneath him.

“Billy, please...”

“What do you need, hummingbird?” He asked, as if he didn’t already know.

“You, Billy,” you whined. “I need you.”

And that was all he needed to hear.

Your head fell back and you let out a long moan as his cock notched into you and started to fill you. His pace was torturously slow and he watched every little flicker of pleasure that crossed your features. You loved these moments when he’d take his time, when he’d make love to you and show you how much you meant to him.

Linking your hands behind his neck, you pulled him down and into an eager kiss. More little moans slipped from your lips and into his as he started to move in slow, deep thrusts that sent bolts of pleasure up and down your spine. You back arched, heels digging into the mattress, lifting your hips to meet his every movement.

When the kiss broke, your lungs felt like they were burning. But there was no time to think about that, no time to think about anything but the way Billy was making you feel. His lips moved to your neck, kissing and sucking at your skin, while one of his hands played with your breast. He was everywhere and everything to you, and when you were together like this, you felt like two pieces of a whole.

He made you feel like the characters from all the books you’d read; you felt like Jane Eyre finally happy and free with her Mr Rochester (just minus the burnt down home).

He made you happier than you’d ever dared to believe you could be.

“Billy,” you moaned softly into his ear with reverence.

“Come for me, little hummingbird,” he muttered in response.

On command, you fell apart for him, clinging to him as your body shivered and shook with pleasure.

“Billy, I love you,” you managed between your moans.

Billy gasped, suddenly overcome by his own orgasm. The movements of his hips turned sloppy as you felt him empty himself inside you, trembling almost as much as you were.

“I love you,” you said again, finding his lips and kissing him, wrapping your arms around him and holding him tight.

When he stilled, he lingered, not wanting to pull out or pull away from you but, eventually, he rolled away, ending up on his back beside you. You both basked in the afterglow as you slowly came down from your highs.

Turning on your side, you lifted yourself so your face was above his. His eyes closed and he let out a contented sigh as your fingers ran through his hair, lightly scratching your nails against his scalp just the way he liked. Then you leaned, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, then one of each of his closed eyes and then, finally, his lips.

“Thank you,” you whispered softly.

“What for?” He dared to ask.

“For loving me for who I am,” you tried to explain, “and for letting me have a life of my own.”

“I should be thanking you for exactly the same thing,” he told you, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you towards him, holding you against his chest.

Neither of you said another word that night.

You didn’t need to.

You had each other, and that was all you needed.

End Note : It's finally over 😭😭😭 Thank you so much for all the lovely comments and messages over the last week, it really means a lot that so many people have enjoyed this story. I hope the epilogue gives an added bit of closure on a couple of issues (I know some people were interested in the sister) though I have also left some things open because I would love to come back to this version of Billy some time in the future. (Honestly, I need a little break from gothic stuff because I made the mistake of rereading Flowers in the Attic the other day and it left me emotionally broken 😅) There won't be any Billy fics from me next week, which feels so weird to me, but I realised that I've posted at least once a week, every week for the last 42 weeks so I think I'm due a week off. At the moment, I think I'll be starting the stalker!Billy fic on the 6th of September but, in the mean time I might also work on my omegaverse!Bucky fic. In the meantime, my ask box is always open if you have thoughts/feelings/questions/headcanons about anything I've written.

Anyway, thank you so much for reading and following week after week, and thank you so much to those of you who have liked/commented/reblogged! Hope you all have a great weekend!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

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cheshirecat484

1 year ago

i’m enough of a nerd to see when a weapon would be impractical but not enough of a nerd to give a shit