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steven-the-tourguide · 2 years

Note

🍹frank 'what if i hurt you' because im in desperate need of more rhi's frank castle content

ahhhhh nonnie you're so sweet oh my god 🙈 i always feel so nervous writing for frank (especially solo), because i don't feel that i capture him well enough compared to the other supremely talented frank writers out there... but your kind words keep me going, and i hope you enjoy x

let's have a sleepover at mine!

no questions asked | frank castle x reader

Frank shrugs his jacket back over his shoulders, gun heavy in his hand as he tucks it into the waistband of his jeans. The weight of a loaded gun is second nature to him at this point, but it’s different tonight. Heavier.

It’s as if the bullets are laced with the trace of you; your melodious laughter, your radiant smile… all the good things in the world. You encompass the good things that Frank doesn’t — can’t — comprehend. He doesn’t think he deserves you.

He starts towards the door, but he pauses. Your anger — his cowardice — shrouds him as his voice begins to soften. “I can’t stay.”

Despite the winter chill lacing the atmosphere, the sheets feel warm, too warm on your body. Frank’s hoodie scratches at your skin, fabric becoming more rigid the more he pulls away. You can barely stand to look at him, but through red-rimmed eyes and gritted teeth, you make a decision. If Frank chooses the easy way out, you’ll do what you’ve always done.

Stay.

The tears sluice down the contours of your face. “I don’t understand, Frank. I thought this was good. I thought we were good.”

He barely lifts his head, but he nods. “We were.”

“What changed?”

Your name rolls off his tongue, but for once, its taste is foreign. “Everyone I love gets killed, and I can’t let that happen to you.”

In this moment, you want to scream. You want to drag him by the scruff of his collar, push him down onto the bed, and yell at him, hoping he understands just how wrong he is.

But you don’t. You cast aside your thundering heart and the goosebumps that now prickle your skin, and measure your next words carefully. “So you’d just run away?” It comes out softer, and more high-pitched than intended, but you continue. “You’d deny yourself any chance of happiness?”

The mattress dips as you swing your legs off the edge of the bed, not caring for a second that there’s nothing clothing you but his hoodie. “You deserve to be happy, Frank. And I’m sick of you thinking otherwise.”

He towers over you as you pad nearer, but it doesn’t scare you. You’re not going to let him get away. Not again.

Frank’s voice is barely a whisper as he looks to the ground. “What if I hurt you? I won’t— I couldn’t forgive myself. I can’t let you be with me.”

In the darkness of the bedroom, your head shaking is nothing more but a slow glimpse of movement. “We do this together. No more running.” Your voice is cool and steady as you reach for the cool metal handle of the gun sticking out of his jeans. It stings in your hand as you pull it out, but you move past, unloading it the way he’s taught you.

Frank hesitates as he changes his posture, spine stiffening slightly as his breath catches in his throat. “You sure, darlin’? If you want me to leave, I’ll get outta here. No questions asked.”

His jacket falls to the ground in a clumsy heap. “Shut the hell up and kiss me, Castle.”

You catch the glint of his shy smile in amongst the shadows, in amongst the flurry of fabric as his shirt slips off his head. “That’s easier than runnin’, I tell you that.”

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steven-the-tourguide · 2 years

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Thank youuu ❤️

𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞 / 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐬 #𝟐

(These are not my works; full credit goes to the original writers. If you'd like your work removed, just shoot me a message and I'll remove it for you!)

✪ ~ BIPOC reader or writer (if this is wrong or you’d like it added, let me know!)

Marvel / MCU Fic Rec List ⎢ Fanfics Rec List

NSFW HC — @the-sarcastic-writer ✪ Dad’s Best Friend!Frank — @buckyhoney FPF — @twistnet Cleaning Frank’s Cuts — @murdockcastleslut A Walk Home — @daredevil420 FPF — @twistnet Only For You — @steven-the-tourguide Housewife!Kink — @clints-lucky-arrow Bondage w/ Frank — @ohlovxr Familiarity — @modern-vellichor

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steven-the-tourguide · 2 years

Note

IS THIS TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR ??

can we have kissing your partners wounds with frank castle please :)

I am no longer taking requests from this prompt list.

So full disclosure, I've never written for Frank before? So I am sorry if this is uhhhh not it. Especially because it got longer than I meant it to.

Warnings: Vigilante!Reader; angst; canon-typical violence; mentions of blood and wounds

He crashed into your life, bloody and hurting.

You thought, at first, that this was standard a break-in, a robbery, something. The man's eyes swept over your table—the stack of mail, and the unfinished dinner there.

"Gauze."

That was the only thing he said to you—gauze. You led the way to the bathroom and rifled through your things. You did your best with the request, cobbled together rubbing alcohol and a box of tampons. He took one look at the box decorated with flowers and colorful swirls, and his brows had given an angry, unimpressed arch.

"I—I don't have anything else," You flubbed.

"Nothin'?"

"You're not the only one that has rough nights. I haven't restocked."

He just made himself at home in your bathroom, tugging off his vest and his shirt and dropping them to the ground. You didn't gripe, even as you saw blood smear against the tile; the man still had a gun strapped to his hip, and you could see the bulge of another in his ankle holster.

"I seen you," He commented. His low, gruff voice caught you off-guard whenever he spoke, grating over some part of you that would be far more intrigued if you weren't so freaked out.

"What?"

"Around. Saw you bust up a deal a week ago, 53rd and 11th."

Your stomach twisted with the feeling of being caught out. The man glanced at you, even as he doused his hands with rubbing alcohol, then turned the bottle to the weeping wound on his side.

"You gonna tell me that wasn't you?" He added. It was stilted for just a second as he winced through sterilizing the wound. "That why you don't have any gauze?"

"...Maybe," You muttered, glancing between his wound and his eyes. He glanced down in turn, setting the bottle aside. You took up one of the tampons, ripping it out of the packaging, sliding it from the applicator, and beginning to unroll the cotton. You passed it over to him, nodding at his muttered thanks as he swiped it under the faucet, then carefully mopped along the gash stretching from his side to his back.

"You gonna tell me what happened?" You plied.

"You don't need to know."

"Uh-huh. So when the cops turn up asking questions about you and the blood on my floor, what am I supposed to tell 'em?"

"If you don't clean before the cops turn up, that's on you."

You huffed, reaching into the tampon and beginning to unfurl a few more tampons.

"Tape?" He asked.

"In the cabinet."

He reached up, blood smearing on the door as well.

"Thanks. Thank you," You nodded to it.

"Anytime."

Dickhead.

"I didn't ask you for help."

"I owed you."

"You didn't owe me shit."

"Alright. Now you owe me."

You glared at Frank through your mask, arm curled around your middle as you tried to catch your breath from catching a particularly rough kick.

"I had it handled," You argued.

"Sure you did," He cooed cruelly, nodding toward the blood trickling from a wound on your knee. "You restock yet?" Before you could answer, he reached into the deep pocket of his pants and lobbed something toward you. You had to straighten to catch it, and found an unopened wrap of gauze. You eyed the packaging, then arched a brow.

"Did you palm this from a hospital?" You asked, holding it up. He didn't answer, just took a few lazy steps back.

"Keep your head down," He warned. "I'll be by to collect some other time."

"Collect what?"

"You owe me now, remember?"

You thought, for a moment, that the small smile he shot you suited him. But before you could argue his point or thank him, he was gone, leaving you alone and wounded on a rooftop.

"We have to stop meeting like this."

"Gauze."

"Figured you would've saved some of what you grabbed for yourself."

The man shot you a grumpy glare, and you couldn't help but smile a little.

"Bathroom," You offered, nodding over your shoulder. You glanced after him, heading for the kitchen yourself.

"You want something to drink?" You called after him.

"...Beer."

It was an assumption that you had any, but he happened to be right. You grabbed one for each of you before you head back toward the bathroom. You went still at the sight of him disrobing in front of the open door. You blinked dumbly at the wound in the middle of his back, a long, jagged slash.

"Jesus," You muttered, coming closer. Then, more loudly, "You're gonna need more than gauze."

"I don't know your name, you know." You felt oddly shy as you said so. You glanced up at the back of his head, then turned your attention down to where you were nearly finished stitching the wound on his back. The two of you sat straddling the edge of your tub; now and again, Frank’s hand flexed in your view, the only outward sign of his his discomfort. You raised your hand, steadying it gently against his back before you draw the curved needle through the other side of the wound.

"I've seen the news, of course," You added. "But—Well, I've only ever heard them call you Punisher."

He didn't say a word, and you were certain he wouldn't say a thing to it. But—

"Frank."

It was blunt, flat—it suited him.

"Free to be," You mumbled.

"What?"

"We had this um...This project in sixth grade. We all had to go home and look up what our names meant. There was a kid in my class named Frank."

He grunted softly.

"You gonna tell me yours?" He added, glancing back toward you a touch. You arched a brow.

"You telling me you don't know it? Or did you not see it on my mail?"

His lips twitched with a rueful smile as he turned away from you again.

"Forgive me for tryin' to be polite."

"Well, don't do it again. Doesn't suit you."

His appearances became so much of an expectation that you started leaving the window by your fire escape open. Some nights, he’d gripe about it, warn that you were just asking for trouble. Other nights, he pushed himself over the sill with a wince and grunt, smearing blood in behind himself.

Now again, both of you arrived in bad shape. It almost became a game of cleaning up one another—who had it worse, who’d taken more hits, who’d taken out more scumbags.

It shouldn’t’ve felt sweet at all, by any means. But you found yourself hoping that Frank would show his face, hurt or no. He did a time or two when he was in fine fettle, with a mutter of, “Need a place to lay low for a bit.”

“And you chose here over the gutter you usually stay in?”

“You got a nicer view.”

You never learned much about him—at least, not int he way you’d like. You’d seen him fight. You’d been subject to his bandaging and care. He had training, but you couldn’t place it.

He tried to help you with your own technique now and again, at the worst times. He gave you tips on form—during your nightly activities.

“Straighten your wrist,” and, “You’re not aiming right,” and, “Watch where you’re pointing that thing, christ—”

“Why do you do this?”

The question caught you off-guard, and you didn’t answer right away. You just smoothed your fingers over the label of your beer, toying where it was wilting from condensation.

“Why do you?” You countered, glancing toward him. He didn’t answer right away, either. Then,

“Someone has to.”

“That’s it?...What about Daredevil?”

Frank scoffed a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“Red plays whack-a-mole.”

“And you turn the city into a one-man-shooter simulation.”

Frank turned sharply toward you, lips pursed in irritation.

“’Cause you got nothin’ on your hands, do you.”

You opened your mouth, watching Frank push himself irritably off of the couch, pacing toward your window.

“...I lost people,” You admitted, raising your voice; you hated that your voice still shook with it, but you couldn’t help it. It made Frank go still, and you lowered your head, unable to stand the thought that he may look at you the way others did—with damnable pity.

“I only bust up shit that can be proven,” You tacked on softly.

“...You got a list?”

Your stomach twinged with anger, and fear.

“It’s sick, huh?” You mumbled, eyes prickling with tears. You wouldn’t blame him for saying so. And there was a piece of you that still feared that you would lose yourself to grief, and vengeance. But you heard Frank’s footsteps grow closer again, and he lowered himself to sit on the coffee table in front of you. You could see the bend of his knees, the denim of the dark jeans that he wore. And then he reached out, closing his hands around your shaking ones, steadying you.

“Not sick,” He said. “Focused.”

There were some nights when you found that you felt a little too determined, acted a little too ambitiously. It happened now and again, but you’d always managed to worm your way out of it. This time, you weren’t sure you’d be so lucky.

Your empty gun lowered, then dropped to the ground, yanking at your broken trigger finger on the way down. You took a step back, then another, then made to take a third, but your body swayed forward. Your knees gave out, and you managed to catch yourself on your hands. The pain rippled up your arms, sending a throb through the arm that had been dislocated and relocated. Your head felt heavy, like a ton of bricks is resting on the crown.

You let your eyes close for a moment, pain thrumming from your head, to the bullet wound on your thigh, to your broken finger, to the knife wound on your bicep.

The two hands closed around your good arm and heaved you up. You reeled back with it, your hand curling into a painful fist and whirling to strike. But you stilled as you found Frank there, his face twisted with concern and anger.

“The hell did you do?” He gritted out sharply, drawing you up onto your feet. You wobbled, steadying, eyeing the bodies littering the ground.

“You tell me,” You managed to mumble.

“Don’t get cute on me now.”

“Haven’t I been cute this whole time?”

“I tell you what, stay alive through the night and I’ll find you fuckin’ adorable.”

Frank reached up, gently prying the balled up dishtowel from your aching jaw. You’d been biting down and screaming around it as Frank had pried the bullet from your thigh and set your finger.

“...Please tell me you got it and you’re not just giving me a break,” You mumbled, trying to swallow despite your dry mouth.You were answered first by the clink of the bullet being dropped into the sink. Then,

“You wanna keep it? Souvenir?”

“Shut up,” You laughed in spite of yourself. “Asshole.”

Frank just grunted. You glanced down at the sound, at the blood-soaked towel beneath your thigh. The edges of it were blurring with the floor, the blood beginning to spread to the bathroom tile. Your stomach heaved at the sight, and you turned your head away, swallowing desperately again.

“You want the dishtowel back?” Frank asked. “This is gonna hurt.”

“It already hurts.”

Frank didn’t say a thing to that, just began to clean the wound. You fought to hold still, reaching your hands back and gripping the edge of the tub to keep from squirming away.

“You don’t do that again without tellin’ me.”

“What?” You mumbled dazedly.

“That was stupid and you know it.”

“You’re not my keeper, Frank.”

His hand raised, gripping your jaw. Your nose suddenly filled with a metallic tang; you felt the slip of his fingers on your skin where they were smeared with rubbing alcohol, bactine, and your blood.

“I’m goddamn serious.”

Your gaze wandered his almost dazedly, head still pounding from blood loss and fatigue.

“You worried you’ll have to find someone’s apartment to crawl into?” You managed. Frank’s expression tightened, pushing your face away before returning to his work.

“We’ll handle your arm next,” He grumbled.

“Sure. ‘m not using it.”

Waking up was a slow, painful rise to consciousness. You winced a touch, shifting on the couch. You pushed yourself up, drawing in a pained hiss and glancing down at your attire. You were still in the underwear and the tank top that you’d worn as Frank had bandaged you. You looked around your living room, then sighed, slouching back against the arm of the couch. At least you could lick your wounds in peace.

“Morning.”

Or not.

You lifted your head with a wince, eyeing where Frank was leaning against your counter, a mug of coffee in his hand.

“Why am I not in bed?” You mumbled.

“You knocked out there. I couldn’t talk you into moving before you did.” Frank pushed away from your counter and walked closer, eyes wandered you. “Wanna go there now?”

“I got it.”

You managed to get yourself up and down the hall, but not without Frank trailing you as your shadow. You finally lowered yourself onto your bed with a groan, drawing your legs up onto the bed and melting into your sheets.

“Whaddaya need?” He asked.

You shook your head in response, drawing in a deep breath.

“Think I’m just gonna...’m gonna rest a little more.”

When you opened your eyes again, it was dark. You felt large, warm hands smoothing over your thigh, heard the scritch and then the press of medical tape being pressed around your bandages. There was a moment before you felt the hands slide to clasp your knee, holding your leg steady. Then, a warm brush of breath, and the gentle press of lips. You opened your eyes sleepily, eyeing the small gathering of supplies—bandaging, bacitracin, alcohol wipes—and then looking down at Frank. His lips were still pressed to the dressing, lingering and soft.

“You missed one,” You mumbled. Frank went still, and you felt his hands flex in your skin. He glanced up at you from beneath his lashes, and your stomach flipped with the warmth you found in his dark eyes. Then, he pushed himself up, leaning down beside you.

“I missed three,” He corrected. You frowned, watching him press a kiss to your hand, then to your bicep. Then he tipped his chin up, pressing a kiss to your head.

“Took a hell of a whack there,” He reminded in a mumble, lips brushing your temple. You let your eyes slide closed, and found yourself reaching out, resting a hand on Frank’s forearm. It was another moment before Frank was lowering himself to lay beside you properly, face still pressed into your hair.

“...Don’t do that without me again,” He murmured. And while you’d been possessed with a fighting spirit the night before, you nodded a little bit.

“Didn’t know I could put a scare into you,” You mumbled. Then, “Didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

You tipped your head back, resting your head on Frank’s shoulder.

“Thanks for staying.”

“You owe me one...And we’re out of gauze.”

#frank castle x reader #frank castle/reader #Frank castle #the punisher

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steven-the-tourguide · 2 years

Text

Don’t mind how nasty I look I was at work 😭

But I met captain foggy today

I stg it is Elden

#matt murdock #foggy nelson #captain america #daredevil

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steven-the-tourguide · 2 years

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Hi ❤️ Frank with a badass vigilante reader who melts between Frank's arms. Thanks so much❤️

Hi!! of course, this is so cute. wasn’t sure if you wanted smut or not so I went for the safe option and made it a fluff. Lmk if you did want smut and I can always make a part<333

“Fuck!” You let out, you had just jumped across two buildings but fucked the landing up, now you had a scrape on your knee and a Tear in your knew combat pants, great. You didn’t have time to stop as you could see the man getting away. Count on you to always do the most extra parkour and still manage to mess it up. Once again, running over the rooftop, dodging any bullets the guy turned around to try and shoot at you.

He was a shit shot. You were after a drug dealer, there had been multiple reports of him distributing hard drugs to minors, and 5 death had occurred due to his products being laced. It was your job to take him out. If he would just run in a straight line then you might have a chance and get a good shot. The roof was going to run out soon and there would be no way out other than down, a ladder may be at the side of the building. Or he would jump if he wasn’t a pussy. But there was a low chance he would make it. And a chance he would stop at the end of the roof and try and shoot you.

Which is exactly what he tried to do. After realizing there was no way down he turned, gun aimed ready to shoot you. Only to find that the woman chasing him was no longer there. He panted looking around, he was panicking now. He fried the gun, multiple times until he realized he ran out of bullets. He swore at himself, realizing he was in trouble now. It was dark and he couldn’t see a thing, sweat ran down his face as he spun about, looking everywhere for you, but with no luck.

You were hiding behind a big industrial chimney of the building you were on, waiting for him to turn away long enough for you to surprise attack him.

He must have heard something because he whipped around pointing his gun at nothing, but luckily facing away from you. You ran out from your hiding space and you flung yourself on him, wrapping your legs tightly around his neck in an attempt to choke him out. But he still had the gun in hand. He started hitting your leg as hard as he could, which hurt a lot. You released your grip, dropping onto the floor. You swiped his legs from under him causing him to hit his head on the floor with his landing.

“Fuck you!” he shouted, groaning in pain.

you blew out the hair in your face before standing on his throat “Fuck me? Fuck you!”

“Wow nice one, you really got him there.” a sarcastic voice rang out. You would recognize that voice anywhere. Frank Castle aka the Punisher.

you turned to see him standing a few feet behind you, gun in hard and infamous skull vest on. “I thought you were staying in tonight?”

“yeah, but I couldn’t leave my girl to have all the fun.”

Now when you first met Frank you were rather new to the whole vigilante thing. You had heard many stories about this ‘punisher’. All of them interest you greatly, taking out bad guys and actually taking them off of the streets for good. Frank was kind of a hero of yours.

So, of course, you decided you wanted a try, it took you a few months to get the hang of the whole thing, the first couple of times you got beaten up pretty bad. Nothing that you couldn’t handle, but you loved doing what you do, after all, it was how you met Frank.

One night you had heard about a gang causing trouble, hurting civilians, and taking over. So, of course, you went over to check it out, after surveilling them for a few weeks you had figured out a plan to take them out. They had a delivery of weapons coming into some shady warehouse. You were going to wait until the van pulls up, that way you would have most of them in one area. But when you got there, there were double the men they had discussed, far more than you anticipated, but it was too late. You did manage to take out a fair group of them by yourself, but they had weapons and you were tiring out, you had been shot in your leg, you were relying on pure adrenalin to keep you going.

Then all of a sudden out of nowhere, three of the men surrounding you drop dead, and behind them in the distance stands Frank Castle, guns in hand. Punisher vest standing out brightly in the dim light. At this point, you had lost enough blood and couldn’t tell if this was a hallucination or not, but you didn’t have much time to register as you were far from finished.

You took out the last of the thugs together, but you were fucking tired in the end, you were losing blood fast, and of course, you made a great first impression by passing out.

You woke up a few days later in a dingy apartment with Frank sitting next to the bed you were on reading a book. You then suggested that you guys team up and he told you he didn’t need another liability, which you of course took offense to and left, only to see him again, different gang activities this time, and he needed help. So after saving his ass, and bugging the shit out of him, he agreed to do a few jobs with you, and you’ve been together ever since.

You would never tell Frank that he was a hero to you, that would boost his ego too much. Although you were sure he already knew. You wanted to be this big bad vigilante, but when he was around it was hard. He was the only one hat left you stuttering over your words and blushing like an idiot. You would mentally kick yourself for letting your guard down so easily around him. Anyone else and you wouldn’t bat an eye, but of course, there is something special about this one. You guys had an odd relationship. Partners in crime that are basically dating, would be one of the ways you would try and label it. You had known Frank for years now and you guys had gotten close, but you just never bothered to label it. You were too bothered about that though. You were completely happy with what you guys had going on at that moment.

You blushed at the nickname, happy that it was currently dark so he couldn’t see you. “Well, I wouldn’t exactly call this one fun. ‘Your girl’ has a rip in her new pants.”

“Awh sweetheart that is terrible.” He said sarcastically

A groan and the sensation of someone slapping your foot drew your attention back to the man underneath your foot “Are you trying to slap me right now?” You ask, leaning on your foot and watching his eyes widen “you wanna deal with this one, or shall I?”

“I’ll deal with him, after all, we can’t have him be the reason you have a rip in your new pants” he teases and you step off the guy’s throat, still blushing, unable to think of a snarky response

The guy gets up and starts to run, only to be stopped moments later by a bullet in the head from Frank.

“Now let’s go home, I brought the van, I know you walked here.” He says whilst opening his arm. An invitation for you to walk near his side.

You shiver as he wraps his arm around you.

You drove home in comfortable silence, Frank is the only person who you feel completely safe with. You can completely relax around him, and part of that scares you, being able to be so open with one person. But you have complete trust in him as well, so it also comforting to know you will always have someone there for you.

He always takes care of you. Ass soon as he got home he ordered you into the bathroom so he could clean you up. You were sitting on the sink now with Frank in front of you, fishing through the first aid kit.

“How come you always end up more beaten up than me? you’re trouble.” He smiles, looking down at you, and opens up a bandage. The nickname he uses for you send butterflies in your stomach, anyone else you would have told to fuck off and mind their business, but the fact it’s coming from Frank turns you all giggly.

Your knee is soon bandaged up and any little cuts are cleaned.

“Who knew you had such a caring side,” you said, brushing some of the hair out of his face as he stood between your legs.

“Don’t lie tough guy, you know you love it.” he smiles, kissing you on the forehead. “Now let’s get you to bed before you cause any more trouble.” He grabs you off the sink, picking you up bridal style and carrying you away to the bedroom.

You didn’t mind letting your guard down with Frank, he wasn’t so bad

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steven-the-tourguide · 2 years

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When I saw frank in a face mask I thought it was about face masks and covid lolz. How about going out to buy groceries with frank wearing masks cause covid?

So did i at first😭 i love domestic Frank so of course i had to write this

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

The sound of your laughter drown out the groans of detest from Frank. You don't think you have ever laughed so hard before in your entire life.

"I can't fucking wear this! you're going by yourself." Frank huffs looking rather agravated.

You guys had run out of masks, so you ordered some online, but the company you got them from must have mixed up the orders. You had ordered just plain patterened stripped fabric masks, but you opened them when they arrived to find 'best mum' embriodered on it in fancy pink writing and a bright floral pattern for the background. Now you didn't mind, but today was grocery day, and Frank promised he would go with you after forgetting to lst time. You hoped he would just put on the mask and not pay attention. But you handed him the mask just as you were about to leave which was a mistake because he spotted the desing and threw a tantrum.

"No way you are getting me outside the house with this." Frank said shaking his head, you were honestly in tears, his reaction was so dramatic. He help the mask up with disgust.

"What? no you promised Frankie."

"Yeah i promised when i thought i would be going out in a normal mask. Not this fucking monster! What happened to the others?!"

You struglled to catch you breath after laughing so much "The orders must have got mixed up- oh my god your face- we have to get groceries today otherwise we will have no food."

"I cannot believe your making me do this."

"Cmon Frankie lighten up, after all you did promise. They aren't even that bad. I have to wear one too!"

"Yeah but it'll look fine on you!!" He whines, he was like a child being told he couldn't have something. It truly was a sight to behold

"Hey, the colours really bring out your eyes." You say, trying to keep a staright face as he glares daggers at you. He storm out the house, grumbling to hisself the whole way. You joined him a few moment later, needing a moment to contain yourself after laughing so much.

The car journey was left with Frank sulking the whole way and your struggling not to laugh once more.

The icing on the cake was when you finally got to the store and he put the mask on, you thought it was funny before, it was fucking hilarious now.

Frank Castle, one of the most intimidating men you have ever met. The oh-so-scary punisher. Was doing grocery shopping in a flowery mask that said 'best mum'. You didn't get out of the car for about 5 minutes, he left you and walked inside as soon as you started laughing at him. You probably looked insane laughing to yourself in your car. You struggled to regain yourself before getting out of the car and finding him. He was grumpily walking around, glaring at anyone who looked at him for more than 5 seconds.

After a couple minutes he finally got over himself and was helping you withh the shopping although what probably washelping was the fact that you burst out laughing evertyime you looked at him.

"oh shut up, you know i fucking rock this look right." He says laughing too.

It went rather peacefully after that, you threw in a tub of icecream and some popcorn and offered a movie night to make up for the fashion drama. Although you did have to stop Frank from starting a fight with anyone that stared for too long. But soon you were loading everything into the car

"See that wasn't so bad now was it?" you asked as he got in the car and shut his door. He rolled his eyes in response "easy for you to say. If that grandma in the fruit aisle looked at me one more time I was about to say something." You couldn't help but giggle.

"what can I say. You truly are the best mum."

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steven-the-tourguide · 2 years

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Steven and Marc accusing the other for killing those people:

Jake who actually killed those people:

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steven-the-tourguide · 2 years

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BAM BAMMMMM

Jon Bernthal and Bam Bam for Backstage Magazine

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steven-the-tourguide · 2 years

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mcu | frank castle

description: requested by anon - “Hey, can I get an Frank Castle imagine where the reader is scared of how he’ll react to her being pregnant and doesn’t want to tell him but he finds out somehow?”

warnings: pregnancy talk, it’s pretty emotional??

word count: 1797

a/n: lmao another random drop, also I didn’t proof read it at all

masterlist

What would you say? How could that conversation even begin? And what would Frank think? Would he be happy? A part of you had hoped he would be, but you had deemed that to be foolish. You knew Frank, and you knew what this all meant to him. What family meant to him.

Keep reading

#frank castle x reader #frank x reader #frank castle #frank castle imagine #frank castle oneshot #the punisher #the punisher imagine #punisher imagine #the punisher blurb #hope you like it!

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steven-the-tourguide · 2 years

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You could be happy

Summary: A man called Pete moved into the house next door. Rosie, your daughter, has him immediately wrapped around her little finger. You and Pete, who you know is Frank Castle, get closer too. When he turned up bruised and full of blood after being gone for weeks you do everything you can to help him and kiss it better.

Pairing: Frank Castle x fem. Reader

Wordcount: 2.5k

Rating: G

Warnings: so much fluff, injuries, mentions of blood, more fluff

A/N: Enjoy this fluff fest (moodboard will eventually be added when I feel inspired lol)

“Rosie, come on. We’re gonna be late,” you called for your daughter down the hall. You were ready, you had almost been out of the door when Rosie ran back to her room to search for her favourite plush unicorn. Lady Sparkles. Yes. That was the name. That your ex boyfriend, Rosie’s dad, named him made you still chuckle every time you thought about it.

Rosie ran down the hall and into your arms, her unicorn in hand.

“Ready?” you asked and she nodded. You gave her a kiss on her left cheek. Then on her right cheek, then on her nose and she giggled, throwing her small arms around you.

God you loved her.

Grabbing her little weekend bag you made sure all windows and doors were closed before you opened the front door. She ran out and you called after her to be careful.

“Careful young lady,” you heard a man say, your head snapping behind you as you looked at a man you had never seen before. Rosie was looking up at him, her hand on his knees. He was… huge. Dark brown eyes looking into yours before he looked down at your daughter with an amused expression.

“Rosie… I told you to be careful,” you scolded her.

“Sorry mama,” she said shyly and you sighed.

“Nothing happened, but you have to listen to your mama little lady,” the man said and Rosie nodded up at him before she ran towards you and took your hand, hiding a little behind your arm. You smiled to yourself.

“Sorry. She’s very excited to get to her dad,” you said. The man nodded as he looked at you.

“I’m Pete. Moving into the place next door.”

“Then we’re neighbours,” you said with a smile.

“Guess so,” he winked.

“Well, do not let me keep you. I’m sure you have placed to be. See you around,” he nodded.

“See you around,” you said as you watched him walk into the house next door.

“Can we go, mama?” Rosie asked and you nodded, not having realised you had been looking after the man. Pete. You had the feeling you had seen him before somewhere. Shaking your head you smiled down at Rosie.

“Yes. Yes we can go, baby.”

“Fucking shit. Stupid… fucking… house…” you cursed at the water hose outside. The water had probably run all day and you had no idea why it didn’t stop. You turned off the water supply both in and outside and yet it kept running.

You heard footsteps from across the fence. Turning your head you saw your new neighbour, Pete, looking at you with an amused expression.

“Need any help?”

“Please? I already turned off everything I could think of but it just keeps running,” you said exhausted. Pete nodded, jogging around the fence and opening the little garden door you had.

10 minutes later the water stopped and both you and Pete were drenched to the bone. You offered him a beer and a towel which he took with a mumbled thanks. Now you were sitting on your porch in the sun, enjoying the last minutes of warmth before the sun would set.

“It’s been some weeks. Did you move in okay?” you asked. The man turned your head towards you, his eyes taking you in.

“Yeah. It’s a shithole, but I like to keep busy,” he chuckled.

“So you bought a project,” you hummed and he nodded.

“I’m already sorry about the noise complaints for the next… three years,” Pete joked and you laughed.

“As long as you don’t work through the night everything will be okay. Rosie was a bad sleeper and I learned to value my sleep,” you said seriously, giving him a wink.

“You and Rosie…” he began to ask. You sighed.

“Broke up with her dad last year. It… it didn’t work out. We’re friends though. He’s a great dad.”

“She with him today?”

“Yeah. Though I think it’s almost time for her to come home.”

Pete nodded and turned his head to look into your garden and you secretly admired his profile. He was so… manly. Everything about him screamed alpha male, yet his eyes seemed to hold so much softness and sadness inside of them.

“Well… I was about to make dinner. Do you… want to stay?” you blurted out. Pete turned his head towards you, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t name.

“As a thank you. And as a welcome to the neighbourhood?” you added.

“I gotta work tonight. So I’d have to leave in an hour.”

“That’s… That’s totally fine. I don’t want to keep you…”

“No. Do you need help cooking?” he asked and you smiled.

“If you want?”

“Peeeeeeeeeeeeete,” you heard from outside, Rosie's excited voice entertaining the whole neighbourhood. You smiled to yourself, closing the dishwasher you had just filled and made your way outside.

Pete had become a great neighbour. A friend.

And Rosie had him wrapped around her little finger. Not a day went by when he wasn’t working, that he didn’t find some time to spend with her. And with you.

It had been almost three months since he moved in and your house had never been in better shape. Whenever you needed help he was at your call. In exchange you had him over for dinner almost every day.

Pete worked nights. He only told you that he was working in the private security sector. And you didn’t question the new bruises and cuts you saw when he came over. Rose had taken to kissing his boo boo’s which was… adorable. The first time she did it you remembered Pete choking up, tears gathering in his eyes as he looked at your daughter who left to play with her plush animal farm she had set up in her room afterwards, not noticing the emotional state she let the man in.

It was one of the rare evenings Pete stayed longer and told you about his family.

Your heart broke for him. You couldn’t imagine the pain he must have gone through losing not only his wife but his two kids.

“Rosie reminds me of my daughter sometimes.” He had said with a sad smile.

“I.. I hope that’s a good thing. If you… If you need time apart I would totally understand…”

“No. No, it’s a good thing. Makes me remember I’m… Makes me feel like a normal person for once.”

Now you were standing on your porch, watching Rosie chase Pete through your and his garden (he had taken down the fence last week because he wanted to replace it. You didn’t believe a word he said). Conveniently a swing had been set up in his garden days later and Rosie had been over the moon.

The way you and Pete were with each other changed too.

He didn’t come over to fix stuff for you anymore in search of a reason to visit you, he just came over. Asked you about your day, helped you with preparing meals. You didn’t realise how much you had missed talking to another adult until Pete became your daily outlet.

There were small touches.

When he passed you his hand came to rest on your back, on your hip, on your arm. On rare nights when he stayed for a movie (mostly when Rosie was with her dad) you rested your legs on his lap, his hands a reassuring weight on your ankle as his fingers rubbed over your skin.

One night you fell asleep during the movie and woke up halfway through Pete carrying you into your bed. You would blame your sleepy brain later that you held him just a little closer until he had tucked you in and left you to sleep.

Pete was… Pete was Frank Castle. You had found out by accident when you had been over your ex’s place to pick up Rosie and had seen the newspaper on his table. There was a picture of him. Pete. Or more like Frank. And you knew you had the feeling that you had seen before when you first met him. Instead of this making you feel scared, you felt safer. And you wanted to tell him that you knew. That it was okay and that you were glad to have met him.

But then he disappeared.

Of course you heard about the violence happening in the city. The TV was constantly turned off to not scare your daughter. She was sad that Pete had been gone for a while now. She missed him and so did you.

You missed talking to him.

You missed seeing him and his stupid handsome face when he teased you about another thing you broke in your house. (It was the house breaking things not you).

You missed his reassuring touch, his arms around you at the end of the day, the hug and his lips lingering on your temple longer every night before he made his way back home next door.

Rosie didn’t understand where he had gone, so you had told her that he had to go away for work. She was sad, she even cried some days, but there was nothing you could do other than hold her and tell her that he would be back as soon as he could.

You hoped it was true.

Rosie and you spent afternoons in the garden planting flowers and vegetables. Rosie kept lookin towards Pete’s house and garden, wanting to make Pete’s garden pretty too, the whole thing being a little overgrown in the last few years. The only thing that he did weekly was mow the lawn.

So one Saturday when he had been gone for almost a month you took Rosie to the flower shop and bought all kinds of flowers and seeds for his garden. It was a project you and Rosie spent almost a week on. Hopefully it would be worth it in the end.

It had been a typical saturday.

You had brought Rosie to see her dad and then went to get your nails done. Wanting to treat yourself in the hopes it would let you forget to worry about Frank… Pete.

Sighing you got out of your car, a bag filled with chinese take out from the place across town in your hand. You were in your thoughts until you were standing in front of your door, about to unlock it when you saw blood on the knob.

You stopped in your tracks, your brain going through a billion different scenarios when you heard your name being called from inside your house.

It was quiet, but from a voice you would recognize everywhere.

Opening your door you stepped into your house and didn’t have to search for him.

Frank was sitting with his back against your guest bathroom door, his hand clutching his side. He looked like he had been in a car accident, his whole face and skin was littered in cuts and bruises. His left eye was so swollen you couldn’t see it.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, letting the bag with the food fall to the ground as you got on your knees, sitting beside him.

“‘’Am sorry…” he mumbled and you shook your head, your hands brushing over his face softly.

“I’m glad you’re back. What do you need?” you asked.

“Stabbed…. Stitches…” he clutched his side harder and you nodded. Running to your en suite to take out your first aid kit. You had never been more glad that you had kept some of your ex’s emergency supplies.

You ran back to Frank who hadn’t moved at all.

He gave you a weak smile and your heart broke.

“Frank… I need… You need to take that off…”

“How…” he asked.

“I read the news, Frank. It’s okay. I trust you. Let me help you.”

He looked at you for a long moment until he moved with a loud painful groan and helped you as you carefully pulled his vest and shirt off.

My god he was all black and blue.

“Take this,” you held out two pills and he swallowed them without asking any questions.

“Full disclosure, I never did stitches on anyone. I… I try to be careful…?”

“ ‘s okay… Trust you…” he mumbled, his eyes dropping close. He probably shouldn’t fall asleep right? And definitely not on the floor of your hallway.

“Can you get up? I can’t carry you to the living room….”

He breathed in deeply before he let you help him up. He was fucking heavy but you managed to help him until he was laying on your sofa. Even injured like this he had managed to grab one of the many blankets you had to put it under him, so he wouldn’t ruin your couch.

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself before you ran back and got the first aid supplies, spreading them out on your coffee table.

“This might hurt…” you said, once you were about to start only to find him fast asleep, his chest falling and rising with every breath you took.

You hoped it was the painkillers you gave him. Taking a deep breath you started to stitch up his side.

It was almost five hours later, close to midnight when you felt him move.

After cleaning his wounds and then washing as much blood as you could off of him you had sat down on the couch next to him, watching his every move to make sure he was still breathing.

He blinked his eyes open and you got up to kneel next to him on the floor, putting your hand carefully on his cheek, your fingers brushing over his skin.

“How are you feeling?” you whispered.

“Like a train ran me over…” he mumbled slowly.

“Did it?” you asked and he smiled a little.

“No. No it didn’t…”

You just took his hand and he squeezed yours a little.

“How long did you know?” he asked and you smiled.

“A couple months.”

“You never said anything….”

“Didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable…” you mumbled and he chuckled, groaning in the next moment.

“Where’s Rosie?”

“With her dad.”

“Uh huh.”

“She’s gonna need a lot of time to kiss your boo boo’s better this time,” you teased and he smiled.

“Maybe you can give her a head start…” he said and you gulped. He looked at you then, waiting for your reaction.

Instead of saying anything you leaned down and kissed the cut on his jaw softly, on his chin and on his nose.

“Lips hurt too…” he mumbled and you chuckled before you softly kissed his lips.

“Better?” you whispered.

“Better,” he nodded with a small smile.

Rosie did indeed kiss all his boo boo’s better. But only the one’s you hadn’t already.

Taglist:

@myguiltypleasures21 / @phoebe-danvers / @mrslizzyolsen / @xoxabs88xox / @doin-stuff

#my fic #frank castle #frank castle x female reader #jon bernthal #the punisher #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

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steven-the-tourguide · 2 years

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Fragile

summary: sometimes matt slips into a headspace after a bad day of vigilantism, and he needs a friend to help coax him out.

pairing: matt murdock x gn!reader

warnings: sad matt, hurt matt, tried to break him as gently as possible, i promise it ends happy

word count: 1100+

A/N: wrote this to break our broken saint matthew a little more, but it ends happy i swear

feedback is always appreciated!

——

The sound of crashing through the window followed by a low rumbly groan is what distracts you from your late night TV binge. You don’t rush to him, you never do. His fight-or-flight carries him up until you can get him to calm down, and there’s been too many times where you’ve narrowly missed a punch because you ran to his side.

“Hey, D. It’s me, can I come closer?” Sometimes the answer is yes, sometimes it’s no. The nights where the answer is no are the nights you pad away to your room, waiting for him to call out your name, for him to silently say, “I’m ready to be taken care of now.”

Keep reading

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steven-the-tourguide · 2 years

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Headcanons for being Matt Murdock’s child (Part 1)

Matt Murdock x child!reader

warnings: teen!dad matt. it’s not portrayed as like, a weird or horrible thing, it’s more of a growing up together type of deal. also blood, injury, death, alcohol AND there is a mention of the SA that made matt become daredevil (i put a tw in red right before it’s discussed and a couple red dots where it ends)

a/n: this gonna sound weird but the humor in this gives me the same vibes as me and my own dad’s humor. ALSO im cutting this off after season 1 because it got REALLY LONG

prompt:

part 2

matt wanted you to have a more stable life than him

which was a little hard considering when became a dad

by the time he went to law school, you were about 8

“is this room 312?” -matt

“yeah, who you looking for..? oh, sorry” -foggy

you dragged in your tiny suitcase behind him

“blind and a single dad? you’re getting all the ladies, aren’t you?” -foggy “how did you even manage to get a kid in here?”

“special arrangements were made, i’m quite persuasive. good thing i’m in law school” -matt

one time, your dad revealed (without much cause for worry) that he “always knows when you are lying” because he can “hear your heartbeat” and instead of that being a cute little motivation for you to always be honest, you literally spent months training yourself to outmaneuver him and you can pass just about any lie detector test. now he just has to take your word for things

being a little shit

“you smell really bad, foggy” -you

“that’s a little harsh…nevermind, thanks for letting me know” -foggy, sniffing himself

matt definitely didn’t want you to fight or be vigorously trained, but he did teach you a few moves because, well. they could help

he also got you some karate lessons to keep you occupied while he had class or internship stuff when you were done with school (which you loved to show off when you got home)

basically abusing foggy (but you were widdle so it wasn’t too serious)

“matt, can you ask your gremlin to stop kicking me?” -foggy

“y/n, stop kicking foggy” -matt

“never!” -you

“that’s it!” -foggy, throwing you over his shoulder

don’t get me wrong, foggy grew to love you, he was family for sure

you cant really draw anything for your dad so all of your masterpieces started going to “uncle foggy”

but when you made stuff out of clay or something…those ones went to your dad

“oh, thank you! is it…a dragon?” -matt, feeling the details

“it is a dragon, do you like it?” -you

“i love it” -matt

“how come i don’t get a dragon?” -foggy, pouting

“because your eyeballs work” -you, using your fingers to stretch your eyelids wide open

eventually, matt and foggy graduated and you moved back to hell’s kitchen, where things got…crazy.

by then you were about 13 or so, so much more experience in being the worst (jk your dad loves you)

*you, trying to sneak a beer without even having your hand on the bottle yet*

“absolutely not, don’t even think about it” -matt

“blindness gave you omnipotence? ugh, you suck” -you

“then you half-suck. it’s hereditary” -matt

matt being REALLY worried about you in hell’s kitchen, but you insisted you’d be perfectly fine walking back and forth from your bus stop

he got u a taser

that was just a horrible idea you love the sound of the zaps

foggy felt threatened

it wasn’t very long before your dad turned to vigilantism, and it wasn’t very hard for you to figure it out

“what’s up with the mask, dad?” -you

“what, uh, what are you talking about?” -matt

“did you think i was actually asleep on the couch last night? are you crazy?” -you

you happened to have an uncomfortable tether on reality that happened somewhere down the line

and your dad knew he could be real with you, but he hated to be. he really did

matt didn’t exactly love growing up in his “reality,” he wanted things to be so much sweeter for you

but coming home bloody and bruised every night wouldn’t make your life any sweeter

in a way, you did think your dad was awesome and kind of badass, but he was literally all you had and from the stories he told you, you could fall into the same boat any day now

“holy shit, are you…are you okay?” -you

“what’d we talk about with your language?” -matt, very injured

“what’d we talk about with your ass getting beaten?” -you, grabbing the med supplies

you reminding your dad of a young him fixing up his own dad after fights.

he didn’t know if that was good or bad

hanging out at nelson and murdock after school

“didn’t say you could drink coffee either” -matt

“you’d think with a blind dad i’d have an easier time sneaking around but noooo” -you

you and him had a great sense of humor

“his greatest accident was me” -you

*karen nearly spitting out her coffee*

“his worst accident was meeting my mom, though” -you “it ties with being blind”

oh yes your favorite joke was definitely the “i was a mistake” one and you milked it frequently, matt got in on the action too

“the teacher said i made a grammar mistake” -you

“i made a mistake once…you” -matt

oh and you both milked the hell out of the blind thing

“every time i look at you—” -you, trying to sass him

“every time i look at you i can’t see” -matt

oh and then

“actually, i’m the reason he’s blind. that’s what you get when you lay you eyes on the most beautiful baby to ever exist” -you

“you were an ugly baby, i literally felt it” -matt

it’s actually a birthday tradition for him to touch your face and “see how much you’ve grown”

“oh, a new pimple!” -matt

“alright, that’s enough from you” -you, laughing

karen and you having a pretty sick friendship (she likes when you tell embarrassing stories about matt and foggy)

“and then foggy threw up and—” -you

“why don’t i get you some coffee, y/n?” -foggy, wheeling your rolling chair far, far away

knowing more than you should, about life and the city. especially the fisk dealings

which kind of freaked you out, especially when death and destruction became more and more common

“dad? please be careful out there. you’re all i’ve got” -you

“i know…just stay put for now. please” -matt

he makes breakfast for you on special days. or when he needs to say sorry for coming home at 4am with intense injuries you have to care for

“i made waffles…” -matt

“i’m still mad at you” -you

“can you be mad at me while you eat the waffles?” -matt

claire thought you were pretty neat

loved your attitude and all

“met your kid on my way in, real character” -claire

“oh…god. what did they say?” -matt

“‘please identify your relationship to my father. friend or booty call’” -claire

“and your answer?” -matt

“the former, of course” -claire

every once in a while, your voice would boom through whatever room you found yourself in, yelling:

“en garde!” -you

“y/n, put down my walking cane” -matt

“you will have to earn it in combat!” -you

if you were in front of foggy or karen or anyone else, he’d just laugh while you poked him

but if you were home alone…

“oh, it’s on!” -matt

obviously, you both knew you couldn’t quite best him, but you could get a few hits and blocks in, for sure. and he always took it easy on you

“do you yield?” -you, poking him in the stomach

“i yield, oh no, how ever will i be able to walk the streets of new york without my cane” -matt, completely monotone

feeling bad that you keep hiding matt’s secret, especially from foggy. like, especially from him

but saying the darnedest things to throw them off the trail

“how do we know that the man in black isn’t johnny cash, hm? i’d like to know…when the man comes around” -you

“what the hell?” -acceptable answer from anyone

whenever matt goes out for any endeavor, whether masked or merriment, you always get the same trusting warning. no really, he trusted you on your own

“be good” -matt

“no” -you

other acceptable answers include: “absolutely not” “you wish” “‘good’ is a point of view” “that’s subjective” “if all your beer is gone, someone robbed us” “i’d throw a party if i had friends” “will you?” “yeah, right” “oh, okay, i’ll try that” “well, i was planning a murder tonight, but just because you said that—” “if i’m not, minors still get lighter sentencing, and i know a good lawyer. you know, at landman and zack”

matt doesn’t push his religion on you. he encourages religious debates if you have any. if you do, he steers you clear of the church. if you don’t, maybe you go to a service every once in a while.

“that’s not very catholic of you” -you, every time matt does something “bad”

working out with him at fogwell’s gym (when he’s not a complete and utter mess)

punching bags are your jam

every once in a while, he’ll teach you something new

sometimes, you get real with him

“do you ever like, put on that outfit or get the shit beat out of you and think ‘wow, maybe i am crazy for doing this?’” -you

“why, because im blind?” -matt

“because you’re a father” -you

when foggy found out, he was pretty mad at matt. but he didn’t know how to feel with you

you were a kid, matt’s kid, but he was family to you, he was devastated you didn’t share

a/n: this is where SA is talked about, there will be a line of red dots where it ends and the font goes back to normal size (also keep in mind that the hypothetical situation that y/n explains does not automatically imply reader is fem)

you decided to go after foggy on your own and talk to him since matt had revealed the injustice that set him down his path, the abused girl down the street

“foggy, you have to understand—especially as a lawyer—that the legal system doesn’t always work. dad did what he needed to do” -you

“i’m not saying i don’t understand that, but it’s matt. your dad, matt. my best friend, matt. he’s getting his shit rocked every night because of some domino effect?” -foggy

“foggy, do you blame him for going after some sick and twisted father for doing that to his daughter? what if it were me, foggy? what if you were put in his shoes and you found out that was happening to me?” -you

“dont—please don’t go there. that—it doesn’t—” -foggy

“he figured out he could do more than just that. do you think i’m not afraid of losing my father? i absolutely am, but he’s not easily stopped or slowed down. believe me, i’ve tried” -you

••••••

“well, why didn’t you just tell me?” -foggy

“uh because snitches get stitches” -you

“w-what?! no, no. crazy guys who run around in their pajamas get stitches! there’s one laying on your couch!! snitches get deals, you should know this!!” -foggy, very urgently slamming his hand in the other

going back to your dad like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ “i did my best”

putting stickers where they dont belong (3D/puffy stickers for matt)

getting frequent calls from foggy when matt is late to work

“foggy, i’m at school! what??” -you

“did matt come home last night?” -foggy

“don’t know, i didn’t check” -you

“you didn’t check to see if your dad was still alive?!?” -foggy

“well, sorr-y, i was under the assumption he was a big boy who could take care of himself” -you

“well, he’s not!!!” -foggy

kinda being the awkward “middle man”/messenger for foggy and matt while they fight

“foggy asked me to ask you to…hold on” -you, uncrinkling paper “‘go fuck yourself, you selfish, blind asshole.’ okay, i was mistaken. it was not a question”

as stresses from the city, your dad, foggy, school, and then some really started setting in, your hardened, sheltered emotions started surfacing for the first time in a long time, shocking many

but matt was there to hold you when you cried

and foggy, too

and even karen. and she always asks about you when you’re not around.

when fisk was brought to justice (or so it seemed), celebration at the office was called for…and foggy snuck you some alcohol

“don’t tell your dad, you swear?” -foggy

“y/n, were you…drinking?” -matt, 5 mins later when karen left the room

“shit, i forgot about your freaky sense of smell” -you

“alright, kiddo, wrap it up. let’s get you home before ‘uncle foggy’ sneaks you anymore alcohol. shame on you, franklin” -matt

“i know, i’m the worst” -foggy

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @lxncelot-recs // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @popeheywardssecretgf // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @zoeyserpentluck // @wild-rose-35 // @confessions-of-a-adhd-teen // @itachisdangos // @nekoannie-chan // @punk-rock-raven //

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