My first fic that I’ve actually posted😎
Chapters: 1/7
Fandom: The Punisher (TV 2017), Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Frank Castle/Karen Page
Summary:
Karen and Frank learn more about each other and find that they have more in common than previously thought.
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been waiting on a touch to save me
summary
“Is this in my head?” Karen asks, feeling slightly dazed. She focuses her eyes. “I can see—a city. But I can see here, too. It’s like one is close and one is far away.” She relaxes her gaze, and the steering wheel swims back into view. “I can see—what’s in my head.”
“I told you,” the voice says. “This ain’t your head, lady. It’s New York City.”
Or: Frank and Karen discover that they are able to see, hear, and feel what the other is experiencing, despite being strangers.
chapter three
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The Blood in The Blue
[Chapter 1]
word count: 8776
-Saturday-
They find her floating naked in deep waters, just before sunrise.
There is bruising along her neck and dark purple handprints trailing down her arms when Frank manages to fish her out. She's breathing, albeit with water in her lungs - the wheeze in their ears loud and bubbly. David turns, already disappearing into the stairway to reach below deck, calling to wake Curtis.
He notes the blue shade of her lips and the way her blonde hair drapes over his arm like silk before settling her on the bow of the ship. Two of the vets still have their eyes on her, and he hurries to remove his coat to cover her from further scrutiny. “Back to work,” he barks. “Yeah? Go away from us.”
“She okay?” Jimbo is dancing from foot to foot, his chin lifted towards her legs. Frank spots a trail of cracked and dry, red skin along her bruised thighs and over her knees. It flakes away in bubbling layers of half moons down her calves.
He turns to look at the remaining vets on deck before sighing. His mouth is set flat before he nods his head in a direction of get outta here, a hand pressing the coat flush to the fiberglass floor beside her. “I'll let you know after Curtis gets a look at her, all right?”
-
“Why's it always something with you?” Curtis grumbles quietly, waving Frank back. He sets down his medkit and rubs at the corners of his eyes before shaking his head, lowering to his good knee and giving the woman a brief scan over her face for additional injuries. She is still wheezing. “Why's it always gotta be when I'm trying to sleep, huh? Hey, miss?” He snaps his fingers briefly by her ear. “Can you hear me?”
Curtis moves the heavy jacket off from her shoulders a little when she doesn't respond, and Frank watches as the crease in his forehead appears to deepen. In the early light, they can see the bruise across her neck a bit more clearly. Deep shades of purples and blues trail across her throat and as he takes away her cover, Curtis’ fingers hover slightly over the slope down her arms. He meets Frank's eye and makes a fist, his thumb poking out, his right hand crossing over to compare the plum-sized markings. “Christ,” Frank mutters softly. She was held before this, and held hard.
“Get her below,” Curtis commands, now locking his kit and prepping to stand, waving a finger over her chest. “She's got water in there, and I need the kitchen table for this.”
Frank lifts the woman once more, careful to avoid the rash on her legs because god knows what that's about, but it looks painful nonetheless. David reappears to hold the door open and her right arm drops from its place on her stomach and swings loose. He gets them down the steps and quickly through the short metal hallway before he can feel a deep vibration against the arm on her back.
“Shh, shh, shh,” he starts, wedging the kitchen door open with a boot and spotting Curtis shaking out one of his shirts. She is stirring - eyes squinting against the overhead light, her mouth opening in a grimace, a low and painful whine escaping. “Hey, hey.” Her hand comes up to grip at his, nails clawing into her own waist as she tries to get out of his hold from under the coat. “Easy,” he tells her, and sets her down on the table.
The woman’s legs pump wildly a few times when he lets her go and Curtis catches her foot before his prosthetic is kicked out from under him. “Hey, ey hey,” he shouts, a hand out to placate her. His training is kicking in. “You're okay, okay?”
“Go,” she gasps, mouth opening wide and baring her teeth, “go, go.”
[Read the rest on ao3]
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you were safe
based on the prompt: a pre-relationship kastle where frank is helping karen learn self-defense but is just struggling so hard to keep his shit together while being so close
word count: 5.5k
Her ponytail swishes past him, and he catches the scent of her shampoo, clean and sweet. She’s all long, lean lines in dark leggings and a sports bra, her face bare of makeup, and he thinks she’s never looked prettier to him.
“I wouldn’t call myself an expert,” he tells her as she brushes past him again to deposit her water bottle on the floor.
Frank, as it turns out, has an acutely limited capacity for self-preservation where Karen is concerned.
[ao3.]
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been waiting on a touch to save me
summary
“Is this in my head?” Karen asks, feeling slightly dazed. She focuses her eyes. “I can see—a city. But I can see here, too. It’s like one is close and one is far away.” She relaxes her gaze, and the steering wheel swims back into view. “I can see—what’s in my head.”
“I told you,” the voice says. “This ain’t your head, lady. It’s New York City.”
Or: Frank and Karen discover that they are able to see, hear, and feel what the other is experiencing, despite being strangers.
chapter two
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