Even on his best day, Frank Castle was a man of few words.
Before his morning coffee, you were lucky if you received more than a grunt or two, and after… Well, even then he didn’t exactly turn into Shakespeare. So whilst Frank didn’t always tell you things, he still managed to show you.
It started with small, simple things.
He’d pick you up from work to save you waking home. He’d cook you dinner in hopes that you’d stop ordering so much takeout. He knew you didn’t always have the time, nor the energy to cook a half decent meal, but he liked to know that you’d eaten at least one portion of vegetables during the week.
He’d take your bins out, fixed your coffee machine – which may have been for selfish reasons more than anything else – and he’d sit and watch ridiculous films with you, even though he knew you’d fall asleep within half hour, leaving him to watch the remainder of the film alone.
And he’d buy you flowers.
So often, in fact, that eventually you had to buy more vases just to house them.
So yes, Frank Castle wasn’t a man of many words, but his actions certainly made up for that.
It was a bog-standard, normal day.
You had awoken next to to Frank’s warm body, pressing your cold feet into his calves, causing him to hiss, but remained where they were, allowing you to steal the heat from him.
He’d been awake for a while, as he always was when he had to formulate a plan for later. Except this time, he wasn’t mapping out a dangerous gang’s headquarters, nor was he plotting any type of recon, assassination…. No. He was planning something much more terrifying. Something that put the living fear into a lot of people, himself included.
Frank Castle was planning a romantic, valentines day.
He and Maria had indulged in only a few valentines, but with two young children and him a military man, it was never something either were particularly fussed over.
You were a romantic, and you didn’t try to hide it. And Frank loved that about you.
Sure, you’d bemoan the commercialization of the day; the expensive cards that would be thrown away after a few days, and the expensive gifts and expectations, but what was wrong with showing someone you loved them?
Sure, you should hold that same amount of love every day, not just one day of the year, but it wasn’t realistic, was it? You couldn’t shower someone with love and attention and affection every damn day of your relationship. Life didn’t work that way. Love didn’t work that way.
So what was wrong with having one day where you went above and beyond?
The morning continued with soft kisses and gentle caresses. His stubble scratched over your thighs, your breathy giggles quickly dissipating into sensual moans, fingers combing through the short hair atop his head.
A shower – where curious hands continued to wander, mapping out each other’s bodies as if you didn’t know every inch of each other’s bodies – followed by the both of you lazily moving around the kitchen in an attempt to make pancakes.
He didn’t have much planned for the morning, you had to pop into work and sign some documents, and he intended to head out to the shipment yard, he’d been given information about a possible new arms dealer in the area, and he intended to – at some point that week – intervene. He’d checked every day so far, and yet nothing had come up, he was just hoping his source hadn’t got it wrong.
Either way, he intended to meet you after work, and take you to a very expensive, Italian restaurant later that evening. He hadn’t told you much, only to dress up.
He was nervous, but for the first time in so long, Frank was also excited about something.
Which was why he should’ve known everything would go to shit.
Turns out, his source was accurate. Or at least, half accurate.
Yes, there was – finally – a weapons shipment. But there was also a huge drug shipment, too. One that Frank knew he couldn’t just leave for another day.
The distributors, a Russian gang that had so far evaded him – were known to be violent drug pushers, using disadvantaged kids to run their products all over the New York Burroughs. Frank was also certain they had a prostitution ring.
Either way, despite the day, he couldn’t let these pieces of shit live a moment longer.
Keeping his eye on them as they strolled around the shipping yard like they owned the place, Frank slid his phone from his pocket, using speed dial to ring you, unfortunately however, it rang and rang and rang, eventually sending him to voice mail.
Huffing, Frank pushed his phone back into his pocket after turning it off. He’d have to just try you again later, or at least hope you wouldn’t be too mad.
He’d watched them for a while,waiting until they began their drive before hopping in his own van and staying two vehicles away. They may have had bravado, but they will still a little paranoid. Once he’d reached their warehouse, he laid in wait, watching them through the sight of his sniper.
He’d have to be smart, his usual going in guns blazing wouldn’t work here. There were a lot of them, spread throughout the two story building. It brought back to use a lot of his Marine training, but also meant he’d spend a lot of time waiting. Checking his watch, he only had just under an hour before you’d be finished.
Shit, he really hoped you were in a forgiving mood.
Sitting on the wall outside of the clinic, you pulled your phone out for what felt like the hundredth time in the last 5 minutes. You could feel Patricia’s eyes on you through the large glass window, but you refused to turn around and acknowledge her.
Pulling up Frank’s contact once more, you wanted nothing more than to throw your phone at the sidewalk when it diverted straight to his answer phone.
It wasn’t like Frank to be late. He was a Marine for practically all of his adult life, he knew how to be on time.
Which meant one of two things.
He was either busy, or injured.
Either way, if he wasn’t already dead, you’d be sure to kill him.
Deciding to just make the short walk home and get changed there, you set off hoping the weather would hold out. February in New York could be unpredictable and if your hair got wet, well, you simply would not be going at all.
You tried your best to give him the benefit of the doubt, and hoped – for his sake – that he would turn up by the time you’d dressed and got yourself ready.
Frank was sweating, ducking down behind a large wooden crate that wouldn’t offer much protection.
He’d managed to infiltrate the warehouse pretty stealthily, taking out a fair amount of guards from his perch on the rooftop a few buildings away. The guards outside weren’t too difficult, either. They’d become complacent in their security, lazy even, and he was able to finish them off quickly face-to-face before they alerted anyone. But inside the building was a different story.
A rogue guard who had definitely left his post walked through the hallway, passing a large look out room and managed to spot the dead guard on the floor. Notifying the rest of the gang via his radio, the whole warehouse was suddenly on high alert.
Frank had to duck and dodge into dark, hopefully empty rooms as he made his way through the top floor, killing whoever he could find on his way down. By the time he’d made it to the main floor, he’d left a trail of dead bodies in his wake.
But they were clearly keeping the hard hitters down here, protecting their stock.
Taking a deep breath, Frank popped his head over the top of the crate, firing another shot before rolling away, dodging the onslaught of bullets that followed closely behind.
Frank – without telling you where he was taking you – had told you that your reservation was for 8pm. He’d repeated the simple fact a few times before he’d dropped you to work, and twice more in the car ride there.
Yet here you were, dressed to the nine’s in a beautiful, red satin dress that hugged you in all the right places, hair and make up looking, dare you say it, damn near perfect, and stomach growling viciously as it awaited Frank’s arrival.
He hadn’t even rang you.
There were not many things in this world that scared Frank Castle was scared of.
An angry, hungry woman, however, was most definitely top 3.
The door swung open before he’d even had the chance to knock, reminding him so much of the first time he’d come to your house to bring you flowers. You didn’t quite have the blaze of absolute fury behind your eyes back then, though.
He knew his demeanor resembled that of a kicked puppy, his dark brown eyes looking at you through his even darker eyelashes as his adam’s apple bobbled.
Watching you silently for a moment, he tried his hardest to keep his eyes on you, but your penetrative stare made him feel all of 5 inches tall. Your arms crossed over your chest, and he used all of his past military training to keep his eyes focused aboveyour neckline.
The whole mission had turned to shit, and a smack upside the head would only be the shitty cherry atop his equally shitty cupcake of a evening.
He waited, ready for your anger to bubble over, as he held out his hand and produced the large bouquet of cherry red roses, the shade almost matching your dress.
Taking one look at them, your brows pushed together and nose crinkled, “Is that your blood, or someone else’?”
His own face contorted as he pulled the flowers closer to him, looking over the rose petals that had blood splotches. He simply shrugged and held them back towards you.
“I’m so, so sorry.”
When you’d slammed the door back in Frank’s face, he didn’t know what to think. What to feel. What to do, even.
He remained on the doorstep until the door flung open once more, your heels clicking as you passed by him, bag now on your shoulder and made your way towards his van, snatching the bouquet as you passed him.
His head snapped around at your 4 simple words, “You comin’ or what?”
Now, here you both sat, in a booth in Pete’s diner. Frank’s clothes speckled with blood stains, cuts and bruises beginning to blossom across his handsome face, and you, sat opposite him in your expensive, red satin dress and sickeningly expensive heels, happily chomping down on a cheeseburger. Plainly put, you both looked ridiculous.
“It good?”
You nodded, licking at the ketchup that had dripped onto your lips. You’d sat in dead silence the whole way to the diner, only speaking to place your order, but now you’d all but ravaged the food in front of you, you were at least a little friendlier.
“I am really sorry, you know? Sorry I was so late and we missed the reservation-”
“Do you really think I care about a fancy restaurant, Castle? In all the time you’ve known me, have I ever cared about something like that?”
“Well… No, but-”
“Frank, if this is going to work, I need you to understand one thing, alright? I might not agree fully with what you do, but I respect it. I get it.I don’t need fancy dinners and expensive gifts and so much hassle. I just need you.Alive, preferably. Just please, in the future… Let me know what’s happening.”
Feeling his cheeks warm up, he pulled the cellphone out of his pocket and waved it a little, “I would’ve but uh… My phone got shot.”
You bulked at his admission, eyes widening in worry before he interrupted you, “It uh, it wasn’t in my pocket. Don’t worry.”
“Then where the hell was it?”
He looked uncomfortable, shifting for a moment or two on the squeaky seat, “It was uh, in my back pocket.”
“Wait… Wait. What? Does that mean-”
“Yes. I was shot in the ass.” He sighed, eyes darting around the diner to make sure nobody could hear you.
Glaring at you as you cackled, Frank almost wished he’d saved himself the silent treatment and led with that information.
“Does that… Is it still in there?”
The look on his face – especially when he shifted in his seat once more – told you everything.
The bullet was definitely still lodged in his ass cheek.
“It’s really not that amusing.” He tried to shush you, the tips of his ears turning beat red.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He simply shrugged, grabbing a fry and dunking it in some ketchup, “I didn’t think it was that important.”
Once your laughter had calmed into a small smirk, he turned his attention to the flowers sat on the table, squashed from where he’d landed on them as he dived into the van in his escape, blood covering some petals as he checked them over with his cut hands,
“I’m also sorry about the flowers.”
You merely quirked an eyebrow, the cheeky smirk never leaving your lips, “Don’t worry about it. Can I uh, can I tell you something?”
He watched as you fiddled with the broken petals, “Of course.”
Your smirk was finally replaced with an almost bashful smile as you looked at him through your lashes.
“I have hayfever.”
Frank watched you for a moment, the clogs in his brain churning slowly before he got it, “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
He tried to snatch the offending flowers away from you, as if the soft, beautiful bouquet was a threat to your life, but you were quicker. Holding them close to your chest, you smiled,
“I didn’t think it was that important.”
A/N: So this is just a super quick note to say THANK YOU SO MUCH for all of the love I’ve received for this mini-series.
This started as just a cute little idea, and I really didn’t expect the amass of followers, likes and re-blogs I’ve gained for it.
I have honestly never smiled so much when I’ve loaded up the website to see that little lightening bolt appear.
So whether you reblogged, liked, followed, or even just read the series, thank you so much for your support. It means so much to a small writer like me, and I really hope to do more of these smaller series with other characters from different TV shows/movies in between writing my full length fics, because it really is helpful sometimes to just get away from a 8,000 word chapter and spent a couple of hours writing something totally different.
So thank you once again, and please remember, requests are open if there is something specific you would like to read by me.
Whilst I am still currently writing my full-length Frank Castle fic (Into Hell and Right On Through It) as well as my full length Steve Rogers fic (The King and the Lion-heart), the next mini-series fic I have planned is a Fezco (Euphoria) x reader, and a Frank Castle x Assasin!Reader, so please stick around if either interests you.
about. frank is hoping to keep his vigilante life a secret, but it’s hard when reader asks questions that brings that wish to risk
warnings.lying? nothing really
ricky rocks. ma man
scars on the back of his neck.
that’s it. that’s what you thought about a lot. especially when night rounded around the corner and you were having a hard time finding sleep. so, instead of counting sheep, you counted his scars by memory.
you wondered how they surfaced on his body and who made the execution to create such deep cuts on his body in hopes to hurt him. frank was a scary man. you understood that. but who was scared enough to hurt him?
or not scared at all?
you thought about frank a lot more than you’d like to admit. you knew he’d tease you and you already had a hard enough time dealing with that—it would be a field day for him if he knew what went on in your head.
“you alright?”
“yeah, i’m fine,” you smiled softly to the concern that erupted through franks voice as he looked up from the book he read. you adjusted your place next to him, sinking deeper into the couch and deeper into his side, cuing him to go ahead continue reading with the nod of your head.
but he didn’t look back down to his book like you hoped, “what’s going through your mind right now, sweetheart?”
you smiled at the name and your cheeks began to grow warm when his hand reached and clasped your cheek sweetly.
fuck.
he always got you, if not with his words, then his affectionate actions.
“i don’t know, i just think, frank,” you mumbled, not wanting to finish your thought.
his brows narrowed, struck slightly confused, “yeah, well i hope so.”
“no, i mean, i think about you,frank,a lot,” you were hesitant with your words, not sure if you should speak them aloud, because the thing was, you felt it shouldn’t be that way.
you met frank on the subway station after he saved you from tripping onto the tracks before never really seeing him again until a month later at a coffeehouse—accidentally spilling coffee on him before recognition kicked in and the two of you sat down together.
it felt like talking to your father—scolding you for being so clumsy with both encounters you two had and telling you, you should really study your surroundings more. and then the cell phone thing—
“can i get you number, you know, just to thank you some other time, more properly.”
he had froze from putting his coat on, a hesitant look immediately overcoming his face causing you to cringe, wondering what had gone wrong despite everything going so smoothly for you two being strangers.
“oh, i mean you don’t have to, i just—“
“no, i just don’t really have a phone, at the moment,” he finally had his brown coat slung over himself, giving you a sympathetic smile. “i recently moved into the area, lost my cell in the process and really haven’t found time to replace it.”
what a lie,was what you thought.
“i’m not really a good with a phone in the first place,” he shrugged before pulling out a pen he had in his pocket, sitting back down. “this is my p.o. box, write me a letter sometime.”
he winked, before getting up and walking away.
but it seemed since day one, frank was never one to track, someone who didn’t want to be helddown.
he didn’t get a phone until five months after you sent your first letter, but he still couldn’t keep track of thing for the life of him.
“you want to tell me what it is you think about?” his finger tips teased the side of your face before tucking some strands of your hair behind your ear.
“i feel like… i barely know you,” you pause, feeling uneasy about your words, “i mean, i worry because i don’t know who you were before we met.”
“same person as i am now,” he smiles.
“yes, but,” you sigh, taking a step back in your head, attempting to recuperate. he studied your face with a sudden hard frown, studying the emotions that were crossing your face. you suddenly set your hand on the back of his neck, your finger tips finding one of the many scars easily and tracing it back and forth. “this. i want to know about this.”
his lips twitched upward, “my scars?”
he seemed confused as to what was so fascinating about them, making you feel dumb by the way you couldn’t help but nod eagerly.
“okay…” his tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he thought while his eyes strayed from yours. “i had a bit of rough childhood, i’d come home almost everyday to my mom screaming at me, for no reason.”
he shook his head, a look of distress coming across his face as he spoke, almost reliving that moment, “one day, i had came home a little bit later than usual for whatever reason—maybe i saw a dog, i don’t know—but it just wasn’t her day,” he tsked, his head slightly shaking, “threw a glass vase my way, shattered and sliced my neck all up. one of many, many marks,” he slid his sleeve up, brining light to the small scars that tore up his arms. “she had a short temper.”
a lie. frank was full of lies, but it was better if you didn’t know the truth. and it was good that you ate it up, because he couldn’t imagine how you’d react to the real reason half his body was full of scars and hidden wounds.
“frank, i’m so sorry,” your arms wrapped around his neck as you had practically thrown yourself to his body, a feeling of remorse overcoming you as you held him as close as you could. “you didn’t deserve that.”
even if it was true, he probably did. he deserved every little mark of pain on his body, even more so for lying to you about it.
A/n: This is inspired by the song Pale Rider by the Heavy Horses. I completely recommend it! It literally is a song about Frank I kid you not. But yeah, please enjoy. Also tagging @peculiarpenman because they always inspire me to write more poetically. <3 I love you!
Summary: There’s a man with no name who comes in the night, who sits in the same booth and orders the same black coffee. He reeks of violence and yet you feel safe, but you never break the silence. Until one night. Just make sure you don’t fall in love with the pale rider.
Warnings: Afab! reader, SMUT (p in v), language, kissing, angst, some violence, panic attack, depression, but then back to fluff I promise
There’s a song that plays when you’re drying the clean glassware. There’s a song that filters from the small speakers echoing through the empty booths and freshly mopped tiles.
There’s a song that becomes your only company when no one is in the small diner. There’s a song that plays when there’s no one but him.
He comes in the off hours, when the highway outside is bare and lonesome, when the other servers have left and it’s only you and the sleeping cook on the kitchen stool.
He pulls up in a black van, parks in the same spot, a little far from the entrance, but close enough he can watch it from his booth three shy from the door.
You know he’s passing through, he never stops for more than an hour. Ordering simple black coffee, no cream, no sugar, in the same mug with the chipped handle. The same booth, the same unreadable expression, the same scrunch to his nose with every sip.
You don’t know why he stops every few weeks. There’s nights where he’s seemingly normal, hood pulled high over his head. But then there’s nights where he’s covered in dirt and bruises and blood. You’d have to be pretty dumb to not notice the handgun tucked in his waistband.
He always leaves without a word, just a wad of cash that doubles the price of the coffee, and a simple nod towards you.
It’s enough to buy your silence and hush your pressing questions.
Until one night.
It’s a Friday night, a couple teenage couples share milkshakes while pressing up against one another. But they leave good tips so you don’t have the heart to imagine what’s going on underneath the table.
There’s two guys that spare you no thought after you only politely smiled at their not very work friendly comments. Especially after you accidently spilled scalding coffee onto one of them. They grumble and order a breakfast meal while silently conversing with one another.
It’s late enough the regulars have gone home, the only customers being the ones the road brings in and maybe just maybe you’ll be able to use the mug with the chipped handle.
The bells chime above the door, a familiar sound making your head rise to find a familiar face.
A small smile unconsciously works onto your face as the hooded figure nods towards you and heads to the booth three from the door. You practically drop what you’re doing to get his chipped mug, stashed away in a safe space.
Grabbing the coffee pot your motions halt for a second. Questions ringing out through your head, asking why you’re so happy to see him, why he makes your heart flutter, why you feel so safe with him.
Shaking your head and shushing the little voice that echoes insecurities, you walk over to him.
He shrugs his hood off, brown eyes lifting to meet your own. Your breath leaves your chest at his gaze.
Eyes that are soft and warm and somewhat sorrowful. Eyes that have lived and seen and felt. Eyes that have fought and conquered and lost.
You smile and set the mug down, pouring the hot liquid into it.
“Freshly brewed.” Winking as you add, “just for you.”
His lips pull into a grin and you turn to walk away but then he utters, “Thank you ma’am.”
His voice thunders through your soul, shaking your bones and sending lightning through your veins. It sounds just how you thought it would, deep and timbre, yet gentle and as if scared he’s too loud.
You’re not sure what noise leaves your lips, but it definitely wasn’t human. Heat licks up your neck, thoughts running haywire as the corners of his eyes crinkle, amused at your response.
Simply nodding, you rush away, your voice failing you as your heart hammers.
Things go back to normal. The teenagers leave. Sticky strawberry milkshake left on the table, but at least they stacked the plates.
You can feel his eyes on you, watching as you wipe away crumbs. Gazing as you sweep the floor. Studying as you flash a smile his way before vanishing behind the swinging doors to the kitchen.
“Some dishes.” You alert on reflex, but fall quiet when you remember you’re by yourself.
The older cook left about an hour ago, after you repeatedly told him you have everything under control and that his wife must miss him, plus it would be best if he slept in his bed rather than on the stool.
It’s the same fight every night. He hates to leave you even as you usher him to his truck. He reminds you of the pistol underneath the register and you smile and hug him. He always looks at you with wisdom and a hand on your shoulder, “Be safe mija.”
There’s a bang from the diner like someone hit a table and then voices start speaking. Your back straightens and you rush towards the swinging doors.
One of the men from before is approaching your hooded figure. Your heart drops. Your eyes scan towards the gun beneath the counter. He reaches into his jacket pocket, your feet start to move to the counter. He starts to pull out-
An arm wraps around your waist, a hand thrown over your mouth before you can scream. You frantically fight his hold, turning in his arms as much as you can. Throwing your weight side to side in any attempt to be freed.
He marches you through the swinging doors and the hooded man’s eyes meet your own, fear washing over them like ice water before snapping back to his cold calculating stare.
Tears start to build as you notice the gun being shoved towards him. You fight against the hold again, no’s muffled and desperate as you try and plead.
A hand slaps across your face, a ring biting into your skin and bursting your eyebrow.
“Be quiet bitch.”
Everything stops. No one moves.
And then it all happens at once.
A shot is fired, the hooded man strikes, the hands around you tighten and then fall away.
You stumble forward, blinking away tears, and suddenly you’re in another pair of arms.
Instinstics run wild, you start fighting and shoving and “hey hey it’s me sweetheart.”
Relief crashes over you as you recognize the black cotton before you, the spicy deodorant, the large hands rubbing up and down your back.
You look up and are met with the most beautiful brown eyes.
“Are you okay?”
His thumb traces the edge of your jaw, running up by your ear, and wiping the blood away from your eyebrow.
Silently, you nod, transfixed on being so close to him; your nerves still trying to figure out what happened and where you are.
“Yeah? You got a first aid kit?”
He lets you lead him slowly towards the bathroom. Lets you fist the cotton of his shirt as you look down to the two men. Lets you scan his face as you try and gauge what he is while he wipes his hands of blood.
You let him wash and bandage the cut on your eyebrow. Let him hold your thighs as his eyes dance over your features. Let him wordlessly care for you.
“Are you okay?” He repeats, this time not willing to take silent nods for an answer.
What is he? Why were these men after him? Is he dangerous? Are you in danger?
You know you should shy away, should flee from his hold, should escape while you can. But you can’t stop seeing the look of fear in his eyes when he saw you.
He holds you with such tender care, tough and worn skin now gentle and soft. His eyes gaze into your own, searching for something… anything.
That terrified look that he flashed your way is enough to tell you he’s okay. Enough to tell you he can be trusted. Enough to tell you that he’s human.
“I’m… I’m okay… are you?”
His eyes shift away, his tongue darts out to wet the corner of his mouth, “Yeah,” his right hand flexes on your thigh, “I’ve seen worse.” It’s softer, almost like he wasn’t expecting you to ask.
You reach out and press your right hand against his cheek, it looks miniature holding his head.
He’s strong. He’s powerful. He’s safe.
An intense want… need washes over you, like big swells crashing along the sandy shore, abrupt and deafening.
Maybe it’s the frazzled ends of your nerves, the frightened and heightened aire to your movements. Or maybe it’s the fact you’ve imagined this very scenario a thousand times before.
Your lips collide to his, like magnets being pulled to one another.
There’s a half second, an hour long half second where he does nothing. Silent and still and stoic. A half second that’s long enough for the insecurities to bubble up, the thoughts to start ringing like tsunami sirens.
What are you doing? You forced yourself on him. He doesn’t even like you. No one does.
A strong hand cups the back of your head and he breathes into you, lips melding to your own.
His nose smashes against your cheek, his lips smear across your mouth, his breath seals away the little voice. Thoughts washing from your mind as it’s flooded with him and only him.
“Do-” your breathing is loud in your ears, your eyes stay shut, your hands can’t leave his form, “do you want to come back to my place?”
***
Sheets crumple at the base of your bed, clothes strewn across the room, the black van parked in your driveway.
It’s overwhelming. He fills your senses, fuels the fire raging throughout your veins.
His fingers dance over your skin, pushing and pulling at your flesh. His lips map out every curve and blemish on your body, teeth scraping as his breath fans across you. His dick slides in and out, punching something vital inside you, something that makes you curl up and scream out.
Your voice sounds small in your ears, begging and whining and gone dumb for him. Your fingers dig into his flesh, your legs wrapping around his hips and pushing your heels into the strength of his butt. You want him closer, want him to put all his weight on you, want him to crush you beneath him.
He grabs your chin, holding it firm and gentle. His eyes stare into your own, commanding you to look at him, to give yourself to him. It’s intimate and suddenly a different type of overwhelming… something allconsuming.
You know it strikes him too because those deep eyes soften, looking far into your soul, searching for something you’re unsure of. Then they shift down to your mouth, lips parted and coated in him, claimed by him.
His forehead touches yours and he stops.
It’s still.
A calm in the raging waves. The center of a pond’s ripple. The hush of a single falling raindrop.
He breathes in as you breathe out, surrounding himself in you, tying an invisible knot between your souls.
Then his hips move again. Knocking a gasp from your lips.
He leans down, lips pressing against yours no longer in a fierce hot-blooded need, but rather a gentle and almost loving caress. A kiss that slows everything down, coats your movements in molten honey, makes your heart bloom with warmth. A kiss that tells of passion, intimacy, and something akin to love.
Stars burst behind your eyelids, his nose nudges into your neck.
Flames build within your heart, his voice calls your name.
Ecstasy floods your nerves, his lips press against your own.
Just like that sweetheart. There you go. Come for me. Sing for me.
All for me. Just for me. Only for me.
***
It’s comfortable and safe.
His fingers drift across your shoulder, soft and not fully there. He’s lost behind his thoughts, mind somewhere else.
You’ve melted into him, back pressed against his naked chest. Your heart beats strong, still calming down and somehow you know it never fully will. Your own gaze misted and taken by thought.
You take his free hand into your own, turning it over and tracing the lines along his palm, scratching at the permanent scars on his knuckles.
His breath hitches, quiet and barely noticeable. It’s intimate and soft and makes you wonder if you stepped too far.
But you’ve already gone this far.
Laid yourself bare for him. Cracked open your ribs one by one and let him prod at your heart. Torn the muscle out and gave the pulsing pieces to him as a gift, an offering.
All for him. Just for him. Only for him.
You tilt back, head leaning against him so your eyes can find his features, find his eyes already on yours.
There’s something startling in the way he looks at you.
Skin scared and telling tales of pain, a strong nose that’s been broken multiple times, sharp jawline growing dark scruff. His cheeks are dusted with a light pink, his heart beating strong behind your back, deep brown eyes that seem to look into your soul.
They speak silent words, words that you’re unable to translate, words that mean millions to him.
His eyebrows furrow, only slightly. You’re learning that little tells weigh heavily into reading his thoughts.
Those brown eyes leave your own, trailing down your form to where you still have his hand, large and strong and worn in your hold. After a second, his thumb moves, featherlight and almost afraid as he traces your fingers. His eyes cloud over, lost again to thought.
Neither of you speak, too scared to break the silent spell.
You stay like that for what seems like both years and seconds.
All too soon and too delayed, he leans over and turns the light on your nightstand off, a kiss pressed to the top of your head.
You fall asleep like that, pressed against the chest of the man with no name.
Safely secured between the thighs of the man with no name.
Hands still wrapped around the big paws of the man with no name.
***
The next morning the only trace of him, the only evidence besides the memories is the note with scrawled letters left beneath the light next to the sweating water glass.
Stay safe Sweetheart. - F
***
You tried to not think of him. Tried to forget the stab in your chest when you woke up alone.
But the thought of him, the memory of his lips trailing up your spine, his hands tugging your ass, the hushed praise, it echoes through your head.
Gnaws away at your will power.
A fierce hunger that feasts at your soul.
You’re not sure why you’re so hurt about it. Not sure what you were expecting or wanting from him. It’s the classic one night stand leave before they wake up. So why are you disappointed? Why did you expect more? Why did you so easily give yourself to him?
Why do you desperately want more?
***
You’re softly humming along to the radio when the cook turns the television on to the news. Voices flow through the small diner about the weather and then the voices turn more hurried.
“… multiple gangs being hunted down by precise and strategic hits. Many of us are wondering just what army or gang could be doing this, but the answer is not whom but rather who.”
You set the broom to the side and frantically reach for the TV remote, the voices growing louder and lighting up the walls from where it sits in the corner. Pictures flash across the screen, some blurred, some not.
A gasp leaves your mouth.
“That’s right, this is being done by one man. Is the ghost of the Punisher back to torment us all once again?”
A fuzzy picture of a hooded man overtakes the screen and your eyes widen, the remote falls from your grasp.
It’s him.
It has to be him.
Suddenly the dots connect, the scars, the gun… the men.
He was on a mission.
You were just a simple stop along the way.
“Mija… you okay?” The cook asks in his heavy Spanish accent, worry overtaking his aging face.
Looking at him, your head nods but no words can leave your mouth.
Your heart already shattered on the floor.
A red and orange map pops up, showing pins as to how far he has covered the country. The story continues, detailing his committed crimes.
The TV goes dark, forgotten remote in the cook’s hand as his eyes scan over your frame.
“No more mija.”
He nods and trails back to the kitchen, black doors swaying after his departure, the radio soon turned back to the normal channel.
Familiar lyrics flood the diner, never ringing truer than now.
Ride to town, shoot ‘em up, and keep on going. Cause I got a job to do and I don’t stop for no one.
***
Days pass and each time the bells chime above the door your breathing stops, waiting for that hooded figure to walk through, but he never does.
You know it shouldn’t, but your heart drops in disappointment. He became part of your routine, you expected to see him, kept his mug tucked away for when he did show up.
A flickering hope that he might be on your doorstep when you return home each night.
An even smaller want for him to return to your sheets and touch you like he did, full of desire and as if the night would never end.
Maybe it’s for the best, he is dangerous after all. Best to get him out of your head. Yet even as hard as you try, you can’t break free of the invisible knot. Each attempt at running only tightens the link, let’s it dig harder into your soul.
A constant ache that mercilessly reminds you of what once was.
Rumors spread through the local town, it’s small and overly friendly, word traveling as easily as sickness. His name is whispered through lips, as if scared he’ll appear if they speak it too loud.
“Did you hear he killed over the Mexican border?”
“It’s one more killing to the man that has no name.”
“I think he’s doing good, wiping the land of those gangstas that think they’re all that and a bag of chips.”
“He’s unforgiving.”
“It’s one more bullet to the man that has no name.”
“Who says he won’t come here and clean us away?”
“Jerry, is there something you’re trying to tell us?”
“I’m just one more life, for him it’s all the same.”
“Just get your gun, and kiss your wife, and lock up your daughter.”
“Yeah… don’t let her fall in love with the Punisher.”
***
You’ve watched the news, listened to the customers, ears perking for anything related to him. Something inside you wants to know he’s okay, but something else wants to make sure he’s far away.
You can’t deny the hurt you felt the morning after, the stabbing force that still throbs. The tears you shed and wipe away.
What would you even do if he showed up? Flee? You’d probably not make it that far to be honest. Question him? Yeah, as if he’d answer. Kiss him? What the fuck?
Shaking your head you clear the plates on the table, grabbing the few dollar bills left on the table for you. It’s not much, not nearly as much as he would always leave. You’ve had to cut back on spending a little bit.
Your heart tugs at the mention of him. The invisible knot tightening and starting to choke.
Late nights are filled with scavenging for anything related to him.
Court cases, police reports, mugshots pop up with seemingly no end. Your breath lodges in your throat as your eyes scan headlines, eyes tracing the features of your hooded man.
You watch videos, conflicted between anger and sorrow. You learn his story, the warrior he was, the father, the villain, and finally… the ghost.
Minutes turn into hours and into sleepless nights as you ponder, wondering why he chose this path, why he chose you, why he left.
His scrawled handwriting untouched on your nightstand all these days past.
***
Everyone knows he’s alive. A dash cam of him sliding over a car’s hood playing across all channels.
You knew first. Heart rigged to him like an addict to a drug. Any small piece of knowledge to fuel the insatiable desire.
He looks the same. You don’t know if you’re happy, angry, or repulsed.
Your fingertips run along the hem of your dress. The man across the candlelit table passionately talks about his business and the next big thing in the stock market. You were interested in the first five minutes, but thirty more and you’ve tuned out.
Smiling when prompted, you sip at your wine, wishing it was something stronger. Your eyes run along the man’s face, watching as his eyebrows raise with every hard syllable.
His didn’t.
What no, stop, you’re not here for him. You’re here to forget.
“So tell me, what tickles your fancy sweetheart?”
It doesn’t sound right from his lips.
***
One little date turns into a few and suddenly you have a boyfriend.
Part of you knows it is wrong. Selfish and cruel to lead him on and let him be a sad replacement for your hooded figure.
But he takes you out for dinner each week and lets your heart be distracted from the booth three shy from the door, lets your eyes drift away from the road in search of a black van.
He visits the diner, ironed work clothes wrinkled from a hard day’s work sitting in a chair and talking about golf. A chaste kiss to your lips and a harsh pat to your butt.
It makes your stomach churn. But the sight of the mug with the chipped handle reminds you that it could be worse.
Stay safe sweetheart. - F now crumpled and thrown from your nightdesk.
Rejected like garbage in an irate rage as you screamed into your pillow, mascara painted along your cheeks like a Monet. Your voice horse from cursing him and then softly pleading with the universe and finally just quietly sobbing, alone.
The wrinkled paper mocking you from the corner, rejected just as you were.
“How about a beer for your man sweetheart?”
It’s vile and repulsive and completely wrong.
But the disgust covers the loneliness.
***
Days start to melt together. The Punisher no longer in the forefront of the news, his story old and no longer the talk of the century. Merely a story told to children to frighten them out of sneaking candy in the night.
The disgust washes away into annoyance.
It builds. Slow but steady, each time you’re called the hated nickname is like another drop to the ever filling bucket.
“My girl.” Drip.
“Darling.” Drip.
“Sweetheart.” Drip drip drip.
The flow you once had to your motions now muddled and thick. You used to always have a smile, but now you can hardly fake one. The cook watches with concern as you slowly clean the diner. He offers you toothy smiles but you can’t return them.
“Fuck, I need a beer, long day today.” Your boyfriend sits down in the booth three from the door.
He can’t sit there.
That’s not his spot.
“C’mon sweetheart, chop chop.”
No.
Don’t call me that.
You can’t call me that.
I’m not your sweetheart.
“Sweetheart?”
No.
You can’t breathe.
Stop.
You can’t see, can’t breathe, can’t fucking move.
Get out.
Get out.
Sirens ring in your head loud and piercing and overwhelming.
Get out.
Get out.
“Get out.” It’s a whisper.
“Get out.” It’s a yell.
“Get out!” It’s a command.
His eyes are wide, startled, “What do you mean sweetheart?”
“Don’t fucking call me that! Get out!” You point at the door, you’re yelling and screaming, and you still can’t breathe. Sucking in air and yet it does nothing to give you oxygen.
“Get out! Get out of here! Get out of town! Get out of my life!”
“Sweetheart, I don’t understa-”
“I’m not your sweetheart! I never was!”
He leaves the booth three shy from the door, his gray convertible leaving the parking lot, the radio soft in the background.
Your chest heaves, finally able to suck in air.
Tears stream down your face, the bucket tipped over and empty.
The crumpled note rests in the strength of your palm, clenched safely between your fingers.
The cook brings you into his arms, holding you for as long as you need while you shake and sob.
“Go home mija.”
Don’t let your daughter fall in love with the pale rider.
***
Weeks pass, you feel better.
Things go back to how they were. Before your boyfriend, who you haven’t seen since.
The regulars compliment you on your refound smile, happy to have you back in high spirits. It fills a void in you.
The teenagers with their sticky milkshakes and shared fries. The old men who talk about their day back on the farms. The old ladies who gossip and try to set you up with their grandsons even though they know your heart belongs to someone else. The cook goes back to sleeping at his stool.
The note, now wrinkled and worn, rests back on your nightdesk. Where each night you trace the letters and try to remember his voice in your head.
It’s the last part of him you have and you wish had thrown it out. You know it’s the final thing holding you back. Like a recovering smoker with the last cigarette in their breast pocket. A sick reminder of what pleasure once was, what happiness felt like.
But now you can’t. Emotionally attached and still holding onto the sliver of hope. Maybe you were enough. Maybe your memory could entice him back. Maybe he feels what you do.
The invisible knot which once choked and suffocated now a craving, a part of you.
The booth three shy from the door empty in waiting, the black van nowhere in sight, the chipped mug set aside and untouched.
Until one day.
Sunny and bright, with a fresh breeze in the air. Your skirt flutters beneath your apron, your smile a little wider, your heart expecting for something you’re unsure of.
The bells above the door chime.
Your heart stops.
“Hey sweetheart.”
You’re wrapped into a safe embrace.
Don’t let your daughter fall in love with the pale rider.
⊹○ﾟ˖ you and frank started as everyone’s favorite on-screen ship but was that all you saw each other as, just an on-screen flirt?
Francis ‘Frank Castle’ Castiglione is an Italian-American celebrity chef, restaurateur, and reality television personality. Castiglione is the owner and executive chef of several restaurants and franchises, such as Frank’s Cookout and the Hotspot Grill. He has worked with Cook Network since 1995, which won him four Daytime Emmy Awards and a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
Y/N L/N is an American chef, television personality and former model. She appeared in the fifth and eighth seasons of Top Baker, Lavo’a cooking competition show. She was a cohost on The Bite, a one-hour talk show centered on food from all angles, which premiered on TBD in September 2011. She spent several years working as a model on the runways of Paris, Milan and London. During this time, she decided to pursue a culinary career.
“He’ll be as good as new in a couple of weeks,” Bruce reassured you just outside the private room Frank was in. “The ribs aren’t broken but severely bruised can’t say the same for his nose; that’s broken pretty well. There’re several lacerations that I stitched up but he’ll make a full recovery.”
“Thank you, doc,” You whisper, patting his shoulder before slipping into the room. “Good news, you’ll live,” you tell Frank.
“I’m gonna kill myself if I have to stay here the full two weeks,” Frank snarls.
“I ought to chain you to the bed after the stunt you pulled,” You snarled back, pulling a chair up to his bed.
“You should have seen yourself, baby. You were downright miserable. I was doing everyone a favor by going to get him,” Frank shoots back.
“Only you didn’t get him. Did you?” You ask, tilting your head. “You got caught and had the shit kicked out of you. I still haven’t heard a thank you for risking the tide of the war to come save your ass,” Frank glass huffing and buffing like a child. “Fine, you’re not ready for that, I get it. You’d have to admit you were wrong for going by yourself and you’re too much of a child,” You snapped standing up. “I have a kingdom - no - I have two kingdoms to run now. So, maybe I should be thanking you for forcing my hand,”
You spun around and marched for the door. You didn’t want to argue with him, but Frank always brought out the fiery side of yourself. At this point it was like arguments was your personal love language.
“Thank you,” Frank whispers before you could reach the door. You pause. “And I’m sorry but please don’t leave,”
You took a calming breath before turning back to him. Just like that Frank’s big eyes pulled you back in. You gravitated towards him and took a seat on the bed by his legs.
“I appreciate what you tried to do,” You whisper, rubbing his thigh. “But for the love of God don’t ever do something like that again. I don’t care if you’re risking your life to save my omega. I won’t trade one for the other. You’re just as important,” You stress. “You’re not worth less then Matt. Don’t risk it again,”
“Matt’s pack,” Frank mutters. “It wasn’t just for you,” You smirked feeling your heart swell. “It was mainly for you but not just,” Frank adds, averting his gaze as his vulnerable side comes out.
“He’ll love you,” You whisper, leaning over to kiss his forehead. He wasn’t having that though. He grabs the back of your head and lowers you to his lips. You smirk giving him what he wants. “Get some rest, baby,” You whisper to him pulling back. He growls clawing at you, but you slip from his grasp. “Be a good boy and stay in bed,”
“I’m not staying here for two weeks,” He points at you. You doubted he’d stay there for two more hours.
“Good boys get rewarded,” You wink at him. His growl turns into a long groan. You laugh sliding out of the room. You walk up to Bruce. “If he gives you too much trouble send him to my room,”
“Of course, your majesty,” Bruce bows.
“Oh, and make sure he doesn’t try to climb out the window,” You add. Bruce raises his eyebrows at you, and you shrug. “He’s ornery like that,” You shrug.
“I’ll make Nat watch over him,” Bruce says. You hum thinking about it.
“That’s a confrontation I’d like to see,” You whisper. “Do what you will. I trust you,” You reassure him before leaving the hospital wing.
Before you go to find Matt, you decide to get some work done. You haven’t been back long, and you knew that after everything that’s happened, he would need time to adjust. Plus, you were nervous to see him.
“Ugh, we’ve been at this for hours,” Yelena complains.
“We’re ending a war, of course there’s a lot to do,” You mumble.
“Didn’t expect so much paperwork,” Yelena added grumpily. “Look, the war’s been going on for years. You really expect to finish all this in one night?” You sigh rubbing your face. “Go to Matt, my king, please,” Yelena pleads. “And let the rest of us get some down time,” You let out a soft laugh before nodding.
“Go home, Yelena,”
“Yes,” She hisses standing up. You smirk watching her practically sprint from the room. You clean up around you before tracking your mate. You had given him his own room thinking he’d like his own space but when you got there he was nowhere to be found and neither was his guard.
Growling you begin to search for him a little more frantically until you found his guard outside your room. You march up to them and they straighten up.
“Leave us,” You order before entering your room. When you close the door behind you spot Matt climbing in through the window. He drops to the floor breathing heavily.
“Hi,” Matt greets.
“Great,” You sigh walking over to your minifridge. “Now I have two escape artists to keep track of,” You grab a water and toss it to Matt. The blind man doesn’t flinch and catches it without worry. He sends you a sly grin. “I have a lot to learn about you, don’t I?” He lets out a small laugh and chugs his water.
“How’s Frank?” Matt asks. The subtle concern in his voice brings a smile to your face.
“He’ll live,” You promise. “Although, I suspect he’s anywhere but the castle at the moment,”
“You didn’t tell me you had bonded someone,” Matt brings up.
“Well, I was a little distracted when I met you,” you told him, slowly closing the gap. “I’m sorry if me bonding Frank hurts you,” You whisper softly.
“It doesn’t,” Matt shakes his head. “Surprisingly,” He adds with a small laugh. “I met him when Fisk took him,”
“Did you jump each other’s bones?” You ask, greedy for information. Matt laughs loudly.
“Didn’t get the chance but he smells…” Matt breathes in deeply. Frank’s scent wasn’t fresh in the room, but it was lingering. His plus your fragrance was a perfect perfume.
“It’s like we were all destined,” You smirk. Matt nods with a small hum.
You had kept some distance wanting to respect Matt, but he was tired of it. He nuzzled into your neck and your arms wrapped around him instantly. You purr holding him close.
“Did you not like the room I gave you?” You ask him. He hums but doesn’t give you a straight answer. “If you prefer this one, then it’s yours,” Matt smiles, rubbing his head against yours as he leans back. “Whatever’s mine is yours,”
“I just want to be wherever you are,” Matt whispers. You couldn’t stop the stupid grin from forming on your face even if you wanted too. “Is there anyone else in our pack?” Matt wonders, keeping his head pressed against yours. You frown your eyebrows and slowly shake your head.
“No. It’s just the three of us,” You mutter. You lightly run your fingers against his jawline. “What is it?” You ask softly.
“It’s just… My senses are more… enhanced than regular omegas. Smell, sounds, touch,” He whispers, gripping your hips. “Are all dialed up,”
“These are my chambers. I tend to have meetings here with some of my council. If this is to be your nest then I’ll move the meetings,” You promise him.
“This scent,” Matt pulls away from you, looking towards the closet. “I can’t describe it,” Your heart plummets as everything clicks. Matt’s head snaps back to you. “What’s wrong?” He asks.
“Nothing,” You whisper, grabbing his hands. “There used to be another member but… they’re gone,”
“Gone,” Matt mutters. You sigh hoping Frank wouldn’t be angry at you for sharing this.
“Her name was Maria. She was Frank’s wife when I met them,” You explain sitting at the table. Matt takes a seat on your lap making you grin and cuddle into him. “She was working in the castle. We instantly clicked and when I met Frank the three of us were always together. She was pack but I felt more for Frank. She approved of me courting him after I vowed to take care of her as well. I bonded with Frank and never once suggested Maria go somewhere else.
“We had to be careful. Nobody could know of our relationship because of me being the princess. Only a select few knew. I’m sure more people know now but they just have the decency to turn the other way.
“Maria eventually had two beautiful children. I loved them as fiercely as Frank and Maria loved them. They were our children. I couldn’t risk getting pregnant with his kids. A scandal like that while we’re on the brink of a war? It would destroy us.
“Things were tense but none of us expected a battle right here. A group of Fisk’s men breached the castle. By the time I found them…” You voice fades as tears come to your eyes. Matt rubs his head against yours while tightening his grip around you. “We lost all three of them,” You whimpered.
That night. The night Maria, Lisa, and Frankie Jr. died was the night your father declared war. You rarely had time to mourn before being thrown into battle strategy and the most intense political moves you’ve experienced.
“I almost lost Frank with them,” You added with even more vulnerability. Your heart was shattered when the three members of your pack died but you wouldn’t have a heart left if Frank didn’t come back to you. “He blamed me for their deaths. Being princess, I have power and recourses yet none of that mattered. I wasn’t there, I couldn’t protect them,”
“That’s bullshit,” Frank grumbles grunting as he climbs in through the window. Your head snaps over to him. You growl annoyed knowing he was deliberately annoying you by climbing through the window.
A second later Natasha bursts into the room. Matt’s growling defensively not knowing Nat nor liking her barging into the room he’s already designated as his nest. You huff already feeling a headache coming on. You settle Matt with some light purring and a couple of soft kisses before looking at Natasha.
“I’ve got it Nat, go home,” You mutter. She bows before throwing a fierce glare at Frank who just smirks and waves. You growl at him threateningly which wipes the smirk off his face and puts it on Nat’s. She throws a wink at him before leaving.
Matt reluctantly stands allowing you to walk over to Frank. You help him straighten up before promptly checking his bandages. Frank lets you for a couple of moments before grabbing your hands and kissing your forehead.
“I never blamed you,” He mutters against your forehead. You sighed not believing him. He pulls you into his chest and engulfs you in his arms. His scent surrounds you slowly helping you relax. “I was angry and sometimes I took it out on you but never once did I blame you,” He whispers.
It wasn’t the best time for you two. You couldn’t comfort him or be a good alpha due to your overwhelming responsibilities for the war and your own grief. Frank turned his grief to rage and took it out on the criminals and anyone who was affiliated with Fisk.
It was only when he spent three weeks in the hospital because of how injured he was did you step in. The two of you were just torturing yourselves. You needed each other. The bond was already fracturing and if it continued it would destroy both of you beyond repair.
A moment later you feel Matt pressing against your back. Frank’s arms adjust to hold him as well. The three of you move to the bed keeping Matt in the middle of you both. You and Frank had comforted each other numerous times over the matter but now you had Matt. With him the both of you were beginning to feel complete again.
Matt laid on his back with Frank on his side nuzzling into Matt’s neck. You were on your side as well pressed into Matt, but you kept your head up to be able to look at them both.
“What were they like?” Matt asks softly.
You and Frank had so many stories to tell. One after the other fell from your lips. The three of you laughed and smiled at most of them. You explained everything in vivid detail to help him visualize in his mind.
You knew if Maria was alive, she would have been right beside Frank in his decision to go get Matt. Only she would have clued you in and made it to where the three of you went on the mission. She always wanted what was best for you two and it was as clear as day that Matt was pack.
Slowly, the talking came to a stop. You and Frank both fell quiet basking in the comfortable silence. Before you knew it both of your mates were fast asleep. They both were nursing injuries and needed their rest.
You couldn’t bear to take your eyes off of them. You finally had them both together in the safety of your room. The war is over. Everything was falling into place.
You were trepidatious. If history taught, you anything peace never lasted. If Maria had taught, you anything it was that the people you love could always be taken from you. You could advocate for peace and fight tooth and nail for the ones you love but in the end it wouldn’t matter. War is inevitable and nobody could defeat death.
You wondered how long you would have them. Frank didn’t make it easy. He picked fights and never ran from one. Something told you that Matt was the same exact way.
Even though there is peace there is still tension. There are many in Fisk’s kingdom that aren’t happy with the change in authority. They’d hate it even more when you begin to break up the kingdom and spread the wealth to your allies. You are certain uprises would happen and prayed you’d squash them quickly.
To help appease the people you knew you needed to crown Matt quickly. He would be in the public eye - your male omega queen. A lot of people wouldn’t be happy about that just like they weren’t happy with a female alpha king. You didn’t have to please everyone, but you had to make them comfortable enough to not act against you.
Matt would make a good queen, you knew it. From the little you’ve seen of him you’ve seen his kindness and compassion for the people. You’ve seen his determination to bring law and justice in a corrupt kingdom.
If the people didn’t love him immediately then they would learn to love him when they see him in action. He isn’t the typical omega. He’ll be very hands on in every matter - not just matters deemed necessary for him.
You knew there was so much more to Matt than being prince, omega, and your queen. Where was he coming from when you entered earlier? What was he doing? And how can he seem to see so much despite being blind?
With your luck he probably has more in common with Frank than you realize. You shudder at the thought of having another quote unquote vigilante as your mate.
Having two vigilantes as mates isn’t good for your image. Everyone knows Frank is the Punisher, but the people don’t know he’s your chosen. Only some of your council and court members know who he is to you. There had been rumors of your relationship when Maria was alive floating around the kingdom, but they died with her. Once she died you and Frank were never seen together in public again. From then on, your relationship was strictly private.
If word gets out that you two have been together all this time, that you mated the Punisher and allowed him to commit those crimes while not only under your father’s rule but your own as well? There would be chaos and mutiny in every corner. Criminals would be crying for release; officers of peace would wonder what the point of their job is, and citizens might follow in the Punisher’s footsteps thinking that if he could get away with it then so though they.
Lord help you if Matt is found out as well (because at this point you almost certain that he is a vigilante). You’d be dethroned, arrested and most likely beheaded. If you weren’t killed then your mates certainly would.
You growled at the mere thought of everything collapsing around you leading to the death of your mates. You would fight to the death to keep them safe. You didn’t care if Natasha or any of your close friends stood in your way. You’d slaughter them all just so that Matt and Frank could breathe for one more day.
Soft lips on the underside of your chin brought you out of your spiraling. Only then did you realize you were still growling and had a death grip wrapped around Matt as well as on Frank’s arm. Your eyes glanced at Frank; your chosen was sleeping like the dead, his injuries taking more out of him than he’d admit.
Matt, however, was wide awake. His quiet purr was slowly cutting through your rough growling. The more you come out of your head the looser you hold your lovers. You take a couple of deep breaths. Matt’s perfume wraps around you like a comforting blanket.
Gently, Matt pushes on your shoulder. You let him push you onto your back and watch as he moves on top of you. He rests his weight on your body and nuzzles into your neck, his purring intensifying.
“I’m sorry for waking you,” You whisper, lightly massaging his back hoping you didn’t bruise him. Matt simply kisses your neck before lightly scenting you.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Matt asks, sounding a little groggy. You sigh slowly.
“We’ll talk about it in the morning,” You promise. “Go to sleep,” You urge.
“You need sleep too,” Matt mutters, sliding on the opposite side of the bed. You watch him, frowning your eyebrows when he starts pushing you only to realize he’s trying to get you closer to Frank.
Complying with his wishes, you move so you’re squeezed between the two of them. Frank instinctively wraps his arm around your waist and tucks you into his chest. Your eyes close and you snuggle into his chest. Matt slides up behind you pressing as close as he can.
“Sleep, sweetheart,” Matt mutters.
You knew you had a lot of work to do to dissect all the problems and find the solutions but as you lay there, in between Matt and Frank, you couldn’t help but to be lulled into a peaceful dreamland.
Summary: You take extreme measures to get your mates back.
Warnings: angst, death, a little fluff
Reader: Alpha Female Reader
Pairings: Beta Frank x Alpha Reader x Omega Matt
Word Count: 3021
A/n:Guess who’s writing a part four!!!! Let me know if you want to be added/subtracted from the tag list!
Also! I just want to thank everyone from the bottom of my heart for all the reblogs/comments. I love the compliments; it truly means so much to me. So thank you everyone for you support for this mini series. I love you all and I wouldn’t be writing this without your support.
“You know where he is,” You state, standing by the window in your chamber. Natasha is standing by the door shifting her weight.
“Surveillance shows that he was headed for Fisk’s kingdom,” Natasha informs you. “He would have arrived about four hours ago,”
“Fuck,” You grumble under your breath.
“I believe his reasoning was-”
“I know his reasoning,” You hiss cutting her off.
Never have you doubted Frank Castle’s love for you. He’s proven it a multitude of times. Now, the crazy man has entered Fisk’s territory by himself to get Matt simply because you were missing him.
Although, missing him is a bit of an understatement. You were showing signs of becoming feral. You’d never get to the point where you’d be fully feral - you knew this - but it seemed too much for Frank to just watch.
It’s been nearly a month since you met Matt. You needed him with you. Your instincts were on haywire. You were normally a balanced person but recently you were becoming more alpha than woman. You were starting to get reckless in your desperation to get your omega back. You weren’t thinking things through.
You were thankful to have a council you could trust. They helped you stay in charge. They helped you stay on the winning side of this war instead of throwing everything away for a quick battle. You had to be strategic. You couldn’t win with brute force, not against Fisk.
“What are the odds they’re out?” You ask her. Natasha is hesitant.
“With Franks skill level and knowledge… If we don’t hear from him in another four hours…” Her voice falls off with a soft sigh.
“My marks are all over him, Nat,” You whisper.
“I know,” Natasha says.
You marked Frank where he could easily hide them. If someone were to see them and inspect them, they’d quickly be able to connect the dots that he’s bound to you. Fisk knows what your scent smells like. One look at the mark and your fragrance mixed with Frank’s musk will be enough to paint a picture for Fisk.
Fisk might not know the level of desperation you feel towards Matt, but he will with Frank. If Frank’s captured, he knows you’ll do anything to get him back. Anything. Only you didn’t want to wait that long. You weren’t going to wait until Fisk had Frank and a plan to use him against you.
“Send Yelena,” you tell her. “Recon only. I want to know Frank’s status… and Matt’s. We’ll move behind her. I won’t risk losing them both. Within the next two days I want Fisk’s head on a platter and his lands as my own,” you snarl.
“I’ll put everything in motion,” Natasha bows before leaving the room.
You weren’t a king that allowed everyone to do your dirty work. Yes, so far, you’ve managed to stay out of the battlefield but now things were personal. You didn’t trust anybody else with the lives of your mates.
You packed your bag and prepared to infiltrate Fisk’s territory. You sent out messages to your allies warning them of what was about to go down but stayed on the vague side. You didn’t want someone blabbing your plan to the wrong people.
“Is this everyone?” You ask, Natasha standing in front of a line filled with men and women.
“I figured you’d want a small party. We’ll be able to sneak in with fewer numbers as well as keeping our forces here to defend the castle,”
You hum and step closer to the line. In front of you stood Scott Lang, Hope Dyne, Maria Hill, Sam Wilson, and Clint Barton. You would meet Yelena on the road.
“This will do,” You nodded. The seven of you then climbed into the long van. Clint put it in gear and began to drive towards Fisk’s kingdom.
While on the way you began to plan your attack. You put Clint and Sam on the perimeter. Clint would find his scouting point and call out routes while protecting the back entrance. Sam would fly around the building, and further out if he had too, and try to prevent support from coming to Fisk.
You assigned Hope and Scott as a search and rescue. Once you get the recon information from Yelena, they will use that to track down Frank and Matt. Whether they work together or separately you leave up to them. You made it clear that the instant they find your mates they’re to bring them directly to you so that you can see them safely to the car.
Natasha and Maria’s job is to take out as many of Fisk’s men as possible. You wanted all his true loyalist out of the way. You didn’t want any problems to arise when you relieved Fisk’s shoulders of his head.
When you meet up with Yelena, she’s to aid you in the finding, capture, and removal of Wilson Fisk.
“Any questions?” You ask. Scott opens his mouth. “None? Good.”
You meet up with Yelena about ten miles from the Fisk’s castle.
“Fisk has them both,” Yelena mutters to you. “I couldn’t tell where in the castle they are, but I would guess in the lower levels. They’re not together, Fisk is keeping them separate. If he hasn’t figured out about the markings then he will soon,” Yelena explains.
“Where’s the easiest point of access?” You ask.
“Honestly? The front door,” she tells you. “They get visitors, random people, all the time. All we have to do is walk right in,”
“Perfect,” You mutter. “You and I will go through the front. Natasha and Maria, I want you going in through the back in case we get stopped. You’ll take Hope and Scott with you. Immediately go to the lower levels then split to do your separate jobs. Where’s the best vantage point for Clint?”
“This building. It covers not only the back but the East wall as well,” Yelena describes.
“Clint and Sam, gather your things. You’ll depart first. Sam, stay with Clint until all of us are inside. I don’t want you spotted too soon. Once I’m inside and in place I’ll give you the signal,”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sam nods leaving the table with Clint.
“Now, where’s Fisk?” You ask.
“He’s got a lot of heat with him. It won’t be easy, but he’ll be here. It’s his war room. I reckon there’ll be roughly six others with him; four I know will put up a decent fight,” Yelena states. “But we can take them, easy,” she says confidently. You smirk at her.
“What do you know about them?”
“What do I know about them?” Yelena scoffs. “And if I’m not your top informant,” You just smirk and wait for her slide show. She turns the computer towards you with a file pulled up. “Maya Lopez. She’s deaf but very skilled in hand-to-hand. She’s gone up against Clint and Kate a few times. I do think we can turn her against Fisk, her loyalty to him is already fractured. She suspects he’s killed her father but doesn’t have solid proof,”
“Do we?” You ask.
“Why do you doubt us?” Natasha asks, pushing an iPad over to you. You scroll through the evidence. “When do you want us to send it?”
“When we infiltrate the building. I want her to see it and wrap her head around it by the time Yelena and I enter the room,” You decide.
“The second woman goes by the name Elektra Natchios. She’s a skilled assassin. Has quite the rap RAP sheet. She’s the only one I would say we would struggle getting past. She has a weakness, however. One that might already have her on our side,” Yelena mentions.
“Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this?” You ask, crossing your arms.
“Because you’re not going to like this,” Yelena states, swiping to a picture of Elektra and Matt. The two were too close to be friends. You couldn’t help but to growl and glare at the picture.
“Was he marked when you met him?” Natasha asks. Your growl becomes more vicious, and you send a glare her way.
“No, he wasn’t marked,” You snarl. Natasha bows her head and steps back. You huff and look back at the picture.
“I’m sure Matt told her about you. If she sees you moving against Fisk and she cares about Matt, she’ll join us,” Yelena says.
“Or she’ll try to kill me in an attempt to keep Matt to herself,” You snip.
“Stick?” You deadpan. She hums and shows him to you.
“Despite being blind he trained Elektra and rumored to have trained Matt as well. He’s another concern but if Elektra is on our side she can handle him,” she says confidently.
“And if she isn’t?” You ask.
“Really wish you woulda brought another pair of hands with you,” Yelena says giving you a sarcastic grin. You sigh pinching the bridge of your nose.
“And the last one?” You ask.
“Someone I’m sure you’ll be happy to be reunited with,” Yelena says showing you, his picture. You snarl.
“Rumlow?” Natasha asks. “Didn’t we kill him like two years ago?”
“Apparently not,” Yelena states. “I don’t consider him much of a threat,” She shrugs, and you agree.
“Alright. I want to move in tonight. I don’t want to wait. Get prepared, we leave in three hours. Clint and Sam, you leave in two!” You shout toward them. The simply give you a thumbs up.
Three hours later you and Yelena are making your way to the front entrance. Everyone’s checking in through the coms. Clint and Sam are in their positions are the southeast building. Natasha and Maria were able to disguise themselves as staff to sneak into the rear entrance with Hope and Scott on their shoulders.
Two minutes ago, Maya received a text with all the incriminating evidence against Fisk. If you plan it right she’ll turn right when you make your entrance. You doubt she’ll move against Fisk on her own but with you and Yelena? Fisk is as good as dead.
“I want to be informed the instant they’re both found,” You mutter under your breath.
“Copy,” Hope and Scott reply.
“Alright, Yelena and I made it through,” You tell the others.
“Just like I said,” Yelena mutters.
“Maria and I are making our way to the basement,” Natasha informs you.
“Where’s Fisk’s war room?” You ask Yelena. She wordlessly leads you.
Without having to tell each other the plan, the two of you momentarily separate. You pick up a stumble as you head towards the door.
“Ma’am, you’re not allowed over here. Private access only,” The broad man warns.
“Oh! Silly me!” You giggle falling into his arms. “My mistake,” you whisper a moment before Yelena comes up behind him. She rips him away and down to her level. Into the adjacent closet they go. With a swift twist, his neck is broke. Nobody wanted to risk guards waking up. No prisoners tonight.
Yelena snatched his badge allowing you both into the private access. You both make it down two hallways before you’re stopped. Needing to release some energy you take the first one.
Wanting to move quickly you don’t bother playing mind games with him. You use his height and weight against him quickly taking him to the ground. You retract a small knife from it’s holster and slide it across his neck leaving him to bleed out.
You pick up a jog to reach Yelena - who’s handling two men. You slip past her and take the oncoming guards. You both work together to get to the war room quickly. You try to keep quiet, but someone blows the alarm. When surprise is thrown out the window you send Sam into action while the two of you pull out your guns and open fire.
“This way!” Yelena shouts and you quickly follow her. “It’s locked,” She growls, trying the access card but it isn’t a high enough clearance. Unwilling to check everyone for their cards you muster up your frustration, desperation, and anger before kicking the door off its hinges.
“Hello!” You greet sarcastically while entering the room. “Fisk, darling, you never responded to my proposal,” You smirked. “Figured I’d come to hear it for myself,”
By the time you’re finished talking Brock Rumlow had reached you. The dumbass never laid a finger on you. Yelena sprung from behind you and sent a bullet between his eyes.
The second opponent, Stick, wouldn’t be easily killed. You trusted Yelena with that, although you knew if she couldn’t put him down soon she’d need assistance.
You took a few steps closer but was stopped a third time by Maya. You didn’t raise your weapons nor try to fight her. You just stared into her eyes and waited. Apparently, she saw what she needed too and slowly nodded before stepping out of the way. She turns to stand beside you against Fisk.
Between you and him is a woman. It’s Elektra. You’re more tense when facing her. You don’t raise your gun but you’re gripping it and ready to strike should she move against you.
With a great amount of speed, Elektra raises one of her Twin Sai’s and launches it at you. You duck out of the way and prepare to shoot her when you hear a rough groan. Turning your head, you see the weapon lodged in Stick’s back. You look back at Elektra to see her marking past you and straight for him.
You straighten up and notice Maya moving to Fisk. The man has the decency to look nervous. He’s typing away on his pad but nothing will save him.
“Stop!” Fisk shouts, standing from his chair and moving away from Maya. Only when Frank and Matt are shoved into the room on their knees does everyone freeze. Guns are pointed at their heads. “Now, I am walking out of here alive,” He states.
You ignore him and take in the appearance of your mates. Frank is beaten up pretty good. You can hear him wheezing and struggling to stay upright. He’ll need immediate medical attention. Matt is a little better but not much. He’s still bruised and wounded but nothing that won’t heal within a couple of weeks.
“You got them?” You ask. Fisk looks at you.
Simultaneously, the two men holding guns at Matt and Frank begin to groan and crumble in on themselves before falling to the ground unconscious. A moment later Hope and Scott return to normal size.
“We got them,” Hope states, nodding to you. Your head then turns to Fisk.
“You were saying?” You ask, tilting your head. Before he could respond Maya went after him. You turned towards Yelena, Stick and Elektra allowing Maya to get her frustrations out.
Yelena gives you a small nod assuring you Stick is dead. You then look to Elektra wondering if you would have to continue fighting for Matt.
One look at you and Elektra knew you would fight her until death for him. You weren’t willing to share him. As hypocritical as that is it’s different when there’s more than one alpha in a pack. One of the alphas would have to submit to the other or else there’d be chaos. Neither you nor Elektra would submit to the other. It would destroy your pack.
You’re king and Matt is your true mate. You have a high claim on him than she does. Besides, you didn’t know it, but her and Matt hadn’t been together romantically for years. Even their friendship was strained. They’d always care and even love each other but their time was over. As much as Elektra would love to find out how skilled you are against her, she backs out of the challenge allowing you to have an open claim on Matt.
With that settled, you look back at Fisk and Maya. Fisk is on his knees and Maya is breathing heavily. She looks a little tossed about, but she was backing away from him.
“So, a house in the middle of nowhere it is then, huh?” Fisk asks laughing.
“That was before,” You stated calmly.
“Before?” Fisk asks. You pull your knife back out and thrust it into his throat. Blood instantly squirts over your arm and covers your hand.
“Before you laid your hands on my mates,” You whisper, twisting the blade before swiping it to the side. You lean back and kick Fisk to the ground. “I want this castle burned to the fucking ground,”
“We can arrange that,” Yelena smirks disappearing. You turn to Maya and give her a nod. She returns it before leaving as well.
You don’t acknowledge Elektra knowing she would most likely want to talk to Matt. You’d allow it but not before seeing him yourself.
When you look at them all the tension begins to seep from your body. You go to them like a magnet. Your left arm wraps firmly, yet gently not wanting to hurt his ribs, around Frank while your right arm does the same to Matt. Their heads instantly go to your neck. The rub their scents on you while you take turns doing the same to them.
“I’m so glad you’re both safe,” You whisper, tightening your grip.
“You came just in time, baby,” Frank huffs. You nip at his shoulder in annoyance.
“We’ll talk about your actions later,” You growled. He just smirks and nips your neck in retaliation. You roll your eyes and turn to Matt. “Hello, love,” He huffs before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get you,”
“You’re hear now,” He whispers.
“I won’t force you, Matt, but I’d like to take you home with me,” You mutter giving him the freedom to walk away should he want too.
“Keep me,” Matt whispers. You smirk kissing his forehead.
Summary: Frank reacts to Matt being your fated and you make plans to bring Matt to your kingdom
Warnings: angst, war, fluff
Reader: Female Alpha Reader
Pairings: Beta Frank x Alpha Reader x Omega Matt
Word Count: 2409
A/n: Ok, so with how well everyone seemed to enjoy the first one here’s the second one! There will be a third one, promise! It’ll most likely be the conclusion but we’ll see how it goes! I’m so happy everyone’s enjoying it!
I am sorry Matt isn’t in this one, but he is for sure in the next one!
Let me know if you wanted to be added or removed from the taglist! I didn’t know who wanted to be tagged, if anybody, so I tagged those who specifically asked for a part two… I’m sorry to those who couldn’t be tagged!
You were prepared for a fight. You and Frank both understood that when you returned, you’d smell like the omega… Like Matt. But this is different. You didn’t just smell like Matt. His scent was clinging to you. It was like an entire bottle of this mouthwatering scent was poured over you. It was obvious the two of you didn’t just talk. You didn’t fuck each other but there was obvious scenting and scenting could be just as intimate.
Frank was already struggling with the idea of an omega coming into the pack. He didn’t like the idea of sharing you. He was nervous about everything and had a lingering hope that the meeting would go wrong. But that obviously wasn’t the case.
You walked into the room prepared to come face-to-face with his attitude. You waited for him to lose his temper. You feared this would be the straw that broke the camel’s back, and Matt wasn’t even in the castle yet.
Imagine your surprise when Frank took one look at you and practically jumped your bones. The kiss made you dizzy and before you knew it, he had you pinned against the wall. Your feet left the ground and crossed behind his back.
When he broke the kiss, he couldn’t stop breathing in your natural perfume. His nose ran over your hair and along your neck. You couldn’t help but to notice that he followed the trail Matt had taken when the omega instinctively scented you.
Your perfume was blended perfectly with Matt’s. Frank hadn’t smelled anything like it before. It was intoxicating. He couldn’t get enough of it.
“Is this him?” Frank grunts. Your eyes roll back as he rotates his hips into yours. You hum clawing at the back of his neck.
“I’m guessing you approve?” You ask, a confident grin on your lips. Frank growls nipping at your throat. “Frank,” You whisper, mildly (majorly) distracted by his rough kisses along your throat. “I have to tell you something,” He hums but doesn’t stop his ministrations. “Frank… he’s my omega,” You confess. He pauses before slowly lifting his head.
“Your omega? As in your omega?” Frank asks. You slowly nod, scratching the base of his hairline in an attempt to keep him from lashing out. You weren’t sure how he’d react to the news. “Congratulations,” He mutters setting you on the ground.
“Don’t,” You whisper, your hands falling to his chest. You grip his shirt trying to prevent him from moving away. “It doesn’t change anything between us,”
“It changes everything,” Frank says. “He’s your mate. Your destined omega,”
“And I choose you,” You stress. “I’ve met Matt and I’ve spent an entire afternoon with him. Not once did I think of sending you away or even consider a future without you,”
“That could change, you know it can. You know how omegas get. You saw how your mother could command you father. Anything she wanted, no matter how it affected him, she got,” Frank says.
You growl growing tired of his doubt in you. You grip his shirt and force him to spin around taking your place against the wall. You pin him back and look him dead in the eyes.
“Frank, I’ve gone through a lot with you and for you. If I didn’t run away because of your violent tendencies, murderous habits, and the fact that you had a wife when I met you then I’m not going anywhere now,” you tell him. “We’ve been through everything and have survived every trial thrown at us. The mere scent of him nearly threw you into a frenzy and omegas are much more sensitive to smells. If he reacts anything like that with you then I’m fairly certain you two will fuck before I get a piece of him,” You joke smirking.
“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Frank asks lightening up. Your grip on him loosens.
“Like what?” You wonder, leaning into him. “To watch my chosen mate, have his way with my destined omega?” You ask before promptly moaning at the thought. “It hasn’t crossed my mind before but…” You groan kissing the underside of his jaw. “Damn if the imagine won’t leave my head now,”
“When do you get him?” Frank asks. You growl as you remember the meeting with his uncle. You pull away knowing you needed to prepare for it.
“I have a meeting in two days,” you tell him. “If all goes well the war will end, his uncle will be left with barely any territory left, and we will have Matt,” You whisper.
“And if it goes poorly?” Frank asks as you round the table. You lean over it, your eyes scanning the multiple maps and documents.
“Then I will take Matt, every inch of his territory, and send him off to life on a farm in the middle of the ocean with no boat to reach the mainland,” You whisper, resting your hands on the surface of the table.
“Either way you come out on top,” Frank notes. You smirk, flicking your eyes towards him.
“Of course, darling. I always come out on top,” You wink at him.
The two days passed too slow. You wanted the meeting to be over with. You wanted the union to happen. You wanted Matt.
You were the first to arrive at the neutral site. It was in an open field where the closest place either of you could hide your guards is three miles in all directions. It would be useless to eavesdrop and stupid to attach each other since you both know that the people in the tree line have aimed guns with a guaranteed kill shot.
“Y/n, it’s a pleasure to see you,” You watch as the king stands on the other side of the table with his hand out, but you don’t offer yours in return. You know it’s an insult and you hope he takes it personally. Not the most proper greeting - you knew your parents would scold you for it - but you aner and hatred for the man surpassed your need to be proper.
“Fisk,” You greet simply. You motion to the chair he’s standing behind. “Sit,” You offer. You hated him standing looking down on you. You weren’t below standing on your chair to have the high ground.
“Wilson, please. We’re both equals here I think we can go by first names,” Fisk says taking the seat. You remain silent. “May I just say that you’ve grown to be a beautiful woman,” Fisk states. “Very smart and cunning. I have to admit I wasn’t expecting such an… opponent when you took the throne,”
“Don’t work, Mr. Fisk, nobody took me seriously when I took the throne. They were ignorant of my skills but not anymore,”
“No, not anymore,” He shakes his head. “I also have to congratulate you. You’ve accomplished more than your father ever did. I understand you’re a strong advocate the comfort of your people. Even going as far as to give them more power over not only themselves but each other and especially over you,”
“They’re people, Fisk. Just like us. They deserve more freedoms and more say in their own lives,” you tell him. “They also deserve to live in a war free world. They should be able to live their lives without worrying about the battle being brought to their doorstep. I want to send husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, parents, and children back to their homes. I want this war to end,”
“As do I,” Fisk reassures you. “That’s why we are here. So, let’s get to negotiating peace,”
“Let’s start with your terms, shall we?” You suggest, motioning to him. Fisk nods politely.
“Firstly, let’s discuss the union between you and my nephew,” Fisk says, keeping a close eye on your expression. You school it to be neutral. “If I’m not mistaken, other than a couple of your brothers, he is the only royal male omega,”
“That would be correct,” You nod. Fisk waits for you to continue but you don’t. You want him to keep talking. You hope he gets nervous. A nervous talking man admits more than he means too.
“With the union would come an alliance. The alliance would cease the war and all those people you mentioned will be able to return to their homes. We’d all have peace.” He states.
“Just like that?” You ask. “No other demands,”
“Just like that,” Fisk nods. You hum eyeing him.
“No deal,” You state. Fisk is visibly surprised. “You see, if you haven’t noticed, I’m winning the war. I will admit that you’re an equally cunning and smart opponent. Mr. Fisk, you’re simply too powerful and smart to stay in power. If we just go back to the way things, where we might have one or two years, at the most, of peace. Your ambition will eat at you until your raising arms and attacking either my kingdom or someone else’s,”
“And what care do you have if I attack someone else?”
“You have two neighboring kingdoms. Me and a very strong ally of mine. I can’t allow you to move against them. You’d pull us into a war. If you march across their lands to attack someone further away, you’d be pulling everyone into a war, and I promise you we won’t be aiding you. War is inevitable while you’re strong,”
“And what are your demands?” He asks.
“I form a union with your nephew. With the union will come the alliance, an end to the war, and three fourths of your army. Should you rebuild that army to the point where it’s over half of what you previously had then I will step in and take all of them. I also understand how having so many in one army is nervous for any kingdom. So, I will distribute the men and women amongst my allies. I also require that three members of my council will be invited into yours. You will not meet with anyone alone without someone from my kingdom to accompany you. And when I find out about your secret meetings, because we both know they will happen, then I will take control of your entire council. If both things mentioned before happens then I will take your army, take your council, take your lords and ladies along with all your territory,”
“And what makes you think I’ll allow you to do this?” He asks.
“If you’ve been paying attention, you’ll notice that I’m not only winning the war, but I’ve refused to call aid from my allies. They’ve been waiting on the sidelines with fresh troops. I can beat you myself but with their help I will dethrone you within a month and leave you in the middle of nowhere without anyone to talk to. If it comes to that and I hear even a whisper of you returning to power I will find you and slit your throat myself.
“Take the first deal, Mr. Fisk. Give me your nephew, your troops, and take my council. Live peacefully without raising trouble and everything will be just fine. If you refuse, I’ll finish this war and you’ll loose everything,”
“You don’t leave me with much choice, do you?” He asks.
“You have plenty of choices, but I implore you to do what’s right for you people and not your ego,” You urge before standing up. “I await your word. My troops will be on hold for another week. If I hear nothing from you then I will move on with option two - the taking of everything you hold dear,”
“It was a pleasure meeting with you,” Fisk smiles, remaining in his seat. You send him smirk looking down at him.
“I look forward to hearing from you,”
You didn’t have to wait a week for Fisk to send a response. When you got reports of one of your camps being attacked by his men the message was clear.
“What do you want to do?” Natasha asks, standing in your war room with your council surrounding you.
“I want to take everything from him,” You growl hating the fact that he didn’t submit. Your temper flared at the thought of being apart from Matt.
“If we do this on our own it’ll take nearly a year,” Bucky warns you.
“Eh, I say nine months,” Sam counters. Bucky sends him a look.
“Nine to twelve months then,” Bucky sasses.
“It has to be faster than that,” You demand.
“Then you’d have to call on your allies,” Yelena warns. “I know you and your father were putting it off but if you want this to end you have to start cashing in favors,”
“Start with Valkyrie,” You state. “She’s the only other kingdom that border’s Fisk. Also, send out messages to Stark and T’Challa. They should be able to aid us quickly,”
“Stark?” Natasha deadpans.
“Yes, him as well,” You insist. “He may be flamboyant and a party boy, but his tech is nearly unmatched and he’s loyal,” Natasha grumbles but agrees, nonetheless. “I want this war done by the end of the month and I want the omega. If all else fails get me his nephew,” You demand.
The messages were sent, and plans were made. You were anxious to get this all over with. The longer you were separated from Matt the more anxious you became. Luckily, you had Frank.
“You need to rest, baby,” Frank mumbles in the dead of night. His bruised hand brushes the hair away from your ear.
“I’ll rest when we have Matt,” You whisper. Frank sighs and pulls your chair from the table. You let him, leaning your head back to gaze up at him. “I need him,” You whisper.
“I know,” Frank scoops you from the chair and walks you to the bed. You shamelessly gawk at his muscles. “We’ll get him, I promise,”
You sigh snuggling close to him. He pulls the blankets over the two of you and kisses the top of your hair. He hums quietly until you fall asleep.
“You’re gonna be pissed when you wake up, I know,” He mutters before breathing in your scent. “If I’m successful hopefully you’ll just forget your mad,” Frank jokes quietly before slowly slipping out of the bed.
He slips into his punisher get up before sneaking out of the castle. He climbs onto a motorcycle and hightailing it to Fisk’s kingdom.
Summary: You take your father’s place as King despite being a woman. In order to make peace and end the war you agree to meet the prince - who ends up being your fated mate. You can only hope your fated mate gets along with the mate had chosen before you met him.
Warnings: angst, grief, fluff, little bit of smut
Reader: Alpha Female Reader
Pairings: Beta Frank Castle x Alpha Reader - Omega Matt Murdock x Alpha Reader
The kingdom is in mourning. The great king is dead; killed on the battlefield. The Lords are doing what they can to keep the peace among the people. The last thing anyone wants is for panic to spread whilst in the middle of the bloodiest war known to history.
You buried your father today. Even the Earth seemed to mourn this loss. The rain poured with such vigor that it raised the creeks and flooded the paths the enemy army might have driven down to siege the royal castle. You knew that the first chance they got they’d march right here and attempt to take the throne. Your father had no male successor. The throne is vulnerable.
You stood beside the throne with your siblings as the people greeted your mother, the widowed queen. You were right beside her. Everyone turned to you directly after giving their condolences to her. You knew what everyone was thinking but nobody has yet to say it out loud.
You’re not the eldest child. You’re somewhere in the middle of roughly a dozen other siblings. Twelve children are a bit obsessive, right? Your parent must have loved making babies and raising kids. Well, not exactly.
In your kingdom, and all the kingdoms in the land, it is law that only an alpha could succeed the throne. While you had older brothers and sisters - and younger ones as well - you were the only one out of the liter to present as an alpha. Your presentation out ranked your older siblings who only presented as either betas or omegas.
So, the twelve siblings weren’t due to the fact that your parents loved children. They were trying to conceive a male alpha. It’s the only thing in their reign they failed in.
While the kingdom mourned the loss of your father - their king - you mourned the future you had planned. You mourned the freedom you could have had; the life you could have lived.
You knew tomorrow would be the coronation. They couldn’t afford to wait. If there was nobody on the throne when the enemy arrived, then it would be all too easy for them to take it. While your mother was still alive, she was only a grieving omega queen who didn’t truly understand the art of war and the politics of man. She played her own realm of politics. The king and queen had two very different jobs; she wouldn’t know what to do.
Your father, fearful that he would never conceive another alpha, taught you how to be king. He prepared for every possibility and knew that when the time came it wouldn’t matter that you were a female; the job would fall upon your shoulders. He needed you to be prepared; he needed to know the kingdom would be in good hands if he should fall.
Tomorrow you will be crowned king. Your mother will remain queen until you find your own omega to take her place. It wouldn’t be an easy task. The omega would have to be a male; they’re as rare as you are.
When the night was over, and everyone was dismissed you returned to your room. Your ladies helped take the pins from your hair and undress from your clothes. Despite it being modern times, you still found the corset to be a nice touch to pay homage to the past.
They asked you if you would need anything else; you declined and bade them good night. The instant the doors were shut the man hiding in the dark corner came to the light. When you looked at him the emotions from the day rushed forward. You didn’t have to put up a front with him. You trusted him implicitly.
“Come here, baby,” He whispers, beckoning you forward. With a few large strides you’re in his embrace. He holds you close, and you nestle into his shoulder. He doesn’t give you his condolences or give you false promises. The two of you are past such formalities.
The two of you end up in bed. You’re laying between his legs, your head on his chest. There’re no clothes keeping you from the skin-to-skin you desperately need. You close your eyes and listen to his steady heartbeat. He slowly combs his fingers through your hair; periodically massaging your head.
“We could still do it,” He whispers. Your heart drops instantly knowing what he’s talking about. “We could be across the ocean before they even knew you were gone,”
“They’d find us… Maybe not soon but they would,” You whisper back. “It would be a life on the run and when we’re dragged back how could I look at anybody knowing I left when they so desperately needed me?”
“How could you help them after they treated you?” He asks, the anger coming back to his voice as it always does when talking about this.
“Frankie baby, you know it doesn’t bother me how they treated me,” You whisper, lifting your head. “It doesn’t matter what my personal feelings are. It’s my duty, my responsibility to take the throne.”
“And what about us?” Frank asks. Your legs move over his to straddle his waist. You move up his body and hover over his face. “I’m not exactly good for your image, baby,”
“What?” You ask teasingly. You lay back down on his chest and move your head just to the side to rest on your palm. Frank’s head follows you, unwilling to break eye contact. “I think telling the world that my chosen mate is the famed Punisher is exactly the image I need,” You whisper only half joking. “Your reputation is world famous. Everyone would cower at the thought of you. Kingdoms would think twice about moving against us,”
“But I’m only a beta,” Frank whisper. You sigh. Your eyes fall shut and your head presses against his. He instinctively holds you closer.
“But you’re only a beta,” You mutter knowing it wouldn’t be enough to hold the crown. You needed an omega. Omega and alpha parings had nearly a large chance at producing an alpha offspring whereas alpha and beta pairings rarely conceived them.
“You’ll look beautiful tomorrow,” He whispers, gently changing the subject. “You’ll take the throne and kick ass. You’ll bring us back to peace, I just know it,”
If only he realized that in order to bring peace would to the kingdom would be to marry the enemy’s nephew - a prince who happened to be an omega. The rival king took his throne with much controversy. The previous king had died mysteriously paving the way for him to take it. It was supposed to be temporary until the prince was old enough. Only the prince is blind, and people are hesitant to put him on the throne.
However, you taking the throne is the perfect solution for them. With your marriage the war ends, an alliance if formed, and they hand off their blind prince. Your kingdom wasn’t crazy about having a blind queen, but they were desperate for an end to the war.
You were king. You wouldn’t be pushed into anything that you weren’t certain of. You agreed to a private meeting but guaranteed nothing more. It was enough to pacify the other kingdom into pausing the war.
“What’s his name?” Frank asks, watching you get ready.
“You know his name, Frank,” You mutter going your makeup. You refused to let your ladies help get you ready. You wanted as much time with Frank as possible.
“Tell me,” He demands. You bristle a little at the demanding tone, but you force yourself to calm. You look through the mirror and sigh.
“Matthew Murdock,” You whisper. Frank’s jaw ticks. “You knew this was going to happen,”
“Didn’t think it would be so soon,” He growls. Neither did you. You were only king for four months. Within those four months you were quickly proving to be an even harder opponent than your father in regard to the war. You were more ruthless and daring. The bloodiest war was becoming worse, but you were winning. If a truce could be made over marriage you would consider it.
You quickly finished your makeup before walking over to Frank. He was sitting on the side of the bed pouting. You gave him a small smile while gently taking his face in your hands.
“I love you, Frank Castle,” You whisper. He softens and grabs your hips greedily. “And no number of omegas will change that,” You promise.
“What if he doesn’t like me? What if he demands you send me off? I’m not supposed to be with you in the first place,” He mutter. You smirk resting your forehead against his.
“Every king has had their concubine,” You mutter teasingly. He lets out a quick laugh and tugs you into a kiss. “I’m king… I’m not going to let anyone chase you away or send you off,” You hand moves from his cheek to the collar of his shirt. He shivers when you pull it to the side. “I claimed you a long time ago, beta,” You growled possessively. He moans as your lips suck and your teeth nip at the mark. “You’re mine,” You growl reclaiming him.
Frank chokes on a moan, his fingers bruising your hips at the sudden rush of euphoria. He lets out a shaky breath struggling not to cum in his pants. Wanting him to do exactly that you nip at the fresh wound while suddenly palming him through his pants.
“Fuck-” Frank chokes again and cums in his trousers like a teenage boy. You hum approvingly and lap at the bite mark.
“Good boy,” You whisper. Frank couldn’t help but to preen at the praise as he rides through the blissfulness.
“You always pick the worst times to do that,” Frank grumbles, as you pull from his neck.
“Whatever do you mean?” You ask, tilting your head. He shivers again when his shirt brushes over the mark. “Just be happy I didn’t claim a new spot,”
“Then I’d never let you leave,” He growls.
You loved claiming Frank. He always made the sweetest sounds and produced the most intoxicating scent. He currently had four claiming marks. Every time you made a new mark the sex… damn, the sex was wild and insatiable.
“I’m sorry I can’t stick around to help you clean up,” You whisper, running your thumb over his lips. “I’ll make it up to you when I come back,”
“If you come back smelling like that fucking omega then I’ll fuck you all night,” Frank growls.
“Promises, promises,” You wink. “I’ll be back tonight,” You gently kiss his lips and pull away before he could pull you into the bed. “Feel free to stay messy until I return,” You wink at him. “I wouldn’t mind coming back and licking you clean,”
Frank groans loudly and falls back onto the bed. You laugh slipping out of the bedroom.
“Have your way with that sexy beta?” Natasha asks, smirking knowingly as she finds you and matches your pace. You growl warning her to keep her voice down. Your inner circle knew about Frank - only those you would trust with your treasure - but everyone else was oblivious, hopefully.
“Is the car out front?” You ask. Natasha hums nodding.
“Yelena had it brought around. You sure you don’t want us coming with you?” She asks.
“I don’t want to arrive with an army,” you tell her. “Things are already tense, and this is neutral ground. I don’t want to break neutrality,”
“You honestly think he’ll be alone?” She asks.
“No,” You shake your head putting on some sunglasses as you stepped outside. You send Natasha a quick look. “And neither will I,” You mutter before walking to the car.
Natasha, having heard the message (follow and protect from a distance), instantly springs into action. Once the car is on the way she grabs Yelena, Kate, and Wanda. The four of them follow your orders and protect you from the shadows.
“Your majesty,” A man bows before you as you reach the destination.
“Has the prince arrived?” You question.
“Yes, he is inside. As I asked his guards, I must ask that yours remain out here,”
“I only brought my driver,” You inform him. You motion for Jarvis to return to the car before entering the building.
You had different expectations when you imagined meeting the prince. But finding out that the man in front of you is your destined omega was not one of them.
The instant you entered the building his scent wrapped around you. It surprised you so much that you were frozen in place. You breathed in deeply and it simply consumed you.
“Alpha,” His whimper strained as if he didn’t want to make a noise but couldn’t help it. Your eyes snapped open and zeroed in on him.
“Omega,” You growled closing the distance between the two of you. You didn’t touch him, but you stood as close as you could. You knew your eyes were dilated but you help your desires back. You didn’t want to startle him.
You lifted your hand, and as if he could sense it, he flinched away. You were hurt but you shushed him softly. He doesn’t move again as you close in on him.
“You’re so beautiful,” You whisper, gently running your fingers along his jaw. Matt shudders and instinctively moves into your touch. The light graze of your fingers seemed to open a flood gate. Matt needed you to touch him. He hadn’t had a gentle touch since he was a boy. The two minutes you’ve been in this room have been the most time he’s felt safe since before his father died.
“Alpha,” Matt whines twitching. He wants to touch you but fears of crossing a line. Reading his body language, you take a leap and pull him close.
Your arm slips around his waist and he takes that as a sign to give in. His head finds its way to your neck. You don’ realize you’ve been doing it but you’re purring to calm his anxieties.
Your arm tightens around his waist while your hand threads through his hair. He snuggles closer to you. He doesn’t want to hope but he can’t help it. For the first time he hopes he can get out of his kingdom. His kingdom of corruption and murder. He wasn’t a helpless omega. He tried to bring peace and squeeze out the corruption of his kingdom, but it proved to be impossible. His own family was at the heart of it all. Maybe with you he could actually have the power to change things instead of running around in a mask at night.
“Matthew,” You whisper. Matt hums pleasantly and nuzzles into your neck. “We have to talk about this,”
“I know,” He whispers back, tightening his grip around you. You smirk and shuffle him over to the comfortable love seat. You laugh softly as he straddles your lap and continues to snuggle into your neck.
“How likely is it that your king is going to end the war should we marry?” You ask.
“He will,” He whispers. “He’ll end the physical war, but he has plans to infiltrate your court. He’ll take your crown from the inside,”
“Do you want this marriage?” You ask him. “To leave your home and come to mine?”
“I do,” Matt nods, lifting his head. You couldn’t help but to lift your hand to caress his face. He leans into your touch. “If you’ll have me,”
Summary: Kilmonger takes over Wakanda during your visit
Warnings: major character(s) death, angst, little fluff
Reader: Alpha Female Reader
Pairings: Beta Frank x Alpha Reader x Omega Matt
Word Count: 2956
A/n: I’m so sorry! Matt and Frank are not in this part - they’re mentioned but do not show up, but I promise they will be kicking ass (literally) in the next part!
Let me know if you wanna be added/subtracted from the taglist
The instant Kilmonger busted the doors wide open and marched towards the throne you knew shit was about to go down. You stepped to the side allowing him to walk to the foot of the steps in front of T’Challa.
One glance at Yelena was all it took for the Widow to disappear into the background and then the room. The arrival of Erik Kilmonger only meant one thing; a Wakandan civil war was to take place. You wouldn’t leave T’Challa but you feared the number of supporters Kilmonger had. As much as you cared for T’Challa your life and the livelihood of your people came first which meant you had to return to your kingdom in one peace… eventually.
“I’m afraid I must urge you to return to your home,” T’Challa tells you softly as everyone prepares for the challenge. You look out the window.
“I think it’s a little late for that,” you tell him. The two of you watch Kilmonger supporters create a blockade around the city.
You could leave, of course, but it would cause a war to break out between your kingdom and Kilmonger. If Kilmonger wins the challenge, then that war becomes a war against all of Wakanda. If you stay, and T’Challa wins, then your friendship is strengthened within the public eye. If you stay, and he loses, things will become a little more dangerous. It’s a risk - you know this - but it’s one you see no other choice but to take.
Plus, you have faith in Yelena. You know she’ll slip past everyone and get to Maria and Sharon. The two will return to your kingdom and rally a force to come for you should you need it while Yelena plays messenger between you and them.
“Can you beat him?” You ask, T’Challa. He hesitates making your heart drop.
“I will beat him,” He assures you.
“Practice that line in the mirror a few times before you tell that to your mother, will you?” You ask, lightly teasing him. T’Challa smiles at you. “My people are with you, T’Challa. If the worst is to happen…” Your voice fades.
“My mother and my sister… keep them safe… I do not know who within my council I can trust to stay loyal to them should I fall. I fear some have been won over by his speech,” T’Challa whisper.
“We’ll keep them safe, and I’ll make sure that they reclaim the throne should you lose it,” You promise him. He thanks you quietly before wakling away.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Natasha says. “We don’t know anything about Kilmonger. We don’t know how he fights or his true motives. What does he plan to do if he takes the throne?”
“Hopefully, we won’t have to find out,” You mutter.
“I know you better than that,” Natasha says. “You don’t leave anything to chance and hope. You plan, you strategize for every possible outcome,” You send her a sly smile. “Mind cluing me in?”
“It’s as I told the king, Nat. Should he fall you’re going to get his mother and sister out of Wakanda. Keep them safe. If T’Challa loses they’re officially under my protection and are to be guarded at all costs. Shuri is showing potential of presenting as Alpha. Kilmonger won’t wait that long, he’ll kill her on spot. We have to keep her alive long enough to present and then we will put her on the throne,”
“And if she doesn’t?” Natasha asks. “She could easily become a beta,” You hum in agreement and look back out the window. Your eyes fall on Nakia.
“There are better options than Erik,” You whisper. “No shortage of potential alpha Wakandan rulers,”
“And what about you?” Natasha asks. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you said I would get them out. You’re my king. You’re my priority,”
“Your job is to follow my orders. Those are your orders,” You growl authoritatively. “I plan to leave with you, but should we separate you’re to get them out then, if you would be so kind, bring the army to collect me,”
“I doubt I’d need anyone other than your two mates, but I’ll bring a few more able bodies souls,” Natasha smirks. You wince slightly at the mention of your mates. The whole world should know about the challenge by now seeing as the place is crawling with reporters.
“Let’s just bet on the fact that T’Challa wins, and all our plotting is unnecessary,”
T’Challa did not win. He lost - killed on national television.
Instantly Natasha was pulling you away from the scene where you met up with Nakia and Okoye who had the queen mother and princess. T’Challa had told them about his wishes for Shuri and his mother to escape with you.
Kilmonger also anticipated this. His soldiers found your group and circled around you. You, Natasha, Nakia and Okoye formed a protective circle around Shuri and Ramonda. The four of you were able to fight off soldiers and continue towards your escape route.
Then you were separated. Natasha and Nakia were able to stay with Shuri and Ramonda while you and Okoye were forced down a different path.
Natasha instantly tried to follow after you, but it would have been suicide. Nakia was quick to grab her jacket vowing that Okoye would protect you, but they had to keep moving. Natasha hated leaving you and feared the wrath of your mates if you didn’t catch up with them.
“Natasha, we cannot wait any longer,” Nakia stresses as the four of them hide out at the edge of the territory. It was the meeting spot, and you haven’t arrived yet.
“We stay,” Natasha doesn’t budge. She isn’t leaving you.
“If we get caught, Erik will have control over Wakanda’s future as well as your kingdoms. That’s too much power,” Nakia argues quietly leaving the Shuri and Ramonda to grieve together. Natasha’s jaw ticks.
“And if it was the other way around?” Natasha asks her. “If my king was here but Shuri was stuck inside. Would you come with us to safety?” She wonders. Nakia holds her gaze for a moment before looking away. Natasha nods looking back to the castle - visible from a distance. “We wait,” She decides.
“I will only wait a few more minutes,” Nakia tells her.
A rhythmic whistle flows through the air. Natasha’s head whips around.
“What? What is it?” Nakia questions growing tense.
“New plan,” Natasha says, leading Nakia toward Shuri and Ramonda. “You’re going to take them and go in that direction until you meet my sister, Yelena. Tell her about the orders from our kings. She’ll get you all to safety,”
“And what about you?” Shuri asks.
“I won’t leave my king behind,” Natasha tells her. She then looks into the distance and whistles loudly in response.
“Be careful,” Nakia says. Natasha gives her a smile before she departs from the ground.
Okoye was forced to turn you over. She as fully prepared to go against Kilmonger but you wouldn’t let her break her oath to the throne. You wouldn’t put her soldiers at risk for your life. Their chance to fight would come. If they are to die it should be for their own monarchy, not for an outsider. Your own people will come. They will fight with the loyal Wakandans. You will get your freedom and they will get their war. Everyone just had to be patient.
“Y/n Y/l/n,” Erik says walking up to your cell.
You stay seated on the ground, your back pressed against the wall. Even though Erik was standing, standing above you, you showed more disrespect toward him by remaining seated.
With Fisk it was the opposite. Standing taller than him would remind him of his childhood and how everyone stood above him and beat him to the ground.
Staying seated with Erik showed him that he didn’t have respect from other kings. You didn’t see him as an equal thus couldn’t be bothered to stand for him. You knew a little bit about Erik Kilmonger and you knew he wanted respect; to be seen as an equal - even superior - to other monarchs.
You lived to piss off weaker men.
“King,” You correct him. “You may address me as your majesty, royal highness, or alpha. I’ve earned that Erik,” Kilmonger snarls as you get under his skin. You just stare into his eyes with indifference.
“And you may address me as king as well,”
“Oh? I didn’t realize you had your coronation. I mean you only just murdered the true king,”
“I didn’t murder him. I won, fair and square. I will have my coronation and you will respect me,” He states. You stare at him before lifting your eyebrows.
“A lion doesn’t go around telling everyone he’s the king. People already know… If you have to remind everyone that you have the throne now… What does that say about your rule?” You wonder.
“I’m not here to discuss my throne,” Erik snarls. You huff out a laugh.
“So,your royal highness -” You name without an ounce of courtesy. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” You ask, opening your arms in mock welcome. Everything you did just made him tick. You wondered how long it would be until you pushed him over the edge.
Then Erik’s expression changed. He smirked and stepped away from your cell. You were curious but you sure as hell didn’t show him that.
“You look uncomfortable, your majesty,” Erik bows politely. “Let’s bring your out of that stuffy cell and get you into a chair,” He decides.
Two men enter the room and grab your roughly. Your dragged out of the cell and into an adjacent room. You’re forced into a chair and tied down.
“There that’s better, isn’t it?”
“Your consideration knows no bounds,” You smirk back at him. “What can I do for you?” You ask.
“I want in on your riches and assets,” He states. “You just got a lot from defeating Fisk; I want in on what you claimed.”
“And what did you do to help me claim it?” You ask.
“Nothing,” He admits. “But I’ll let you live long enough to enjoy it,”
“How kind,” You roll your eyes.
“I also want my men on your council and a hefty chunk of your territory. Wakanda is one of the smallest countries. That isn’t fair,”
“Wakanda is the third largest country,” You deadpan. “I just surpassed them by winning the war and the only bigger is that under the Guardians treaty,”
“I’m glad you brought that up,” Erik smirks. “I also want your support in taking over the Guardian’s treaty. There’s simply too much neutral space,”
“Would you like my first born on top of that?” You wonder.
“Are you offering?” He asks, smirking. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you something in return. You’ll have first pick in our distribution of weapons, medicine and technology,”
That was tempting. However, it wasn’t worth anything he was asking for in return. You had faith that Natasha had gotten Shuri out safely. If she becomes an alpha, you’ll see to it that she retakes the throne, and you’ll work out a more enjoyable deal.
“I’m not giving you any land or any of the riches you didn’t earn. The Guardian’s treaty isn’t mine to speak for, but I will tell you my loyalty to Gamora outweighs mine to you. No deal,” You shake your head.
“Well then, if we can’t come to an agreement on that… I’m gonna need you to sign over your kingdom to me,”
You couldn’t help it. You laughed at his audacity.
“I’m just going to let you guess my answer to that,” You laugh shaking your head.
“If I kill you right now,” Erik says, pulling his gun out of his holster. “Your kingdom has no heir, and I will claim it,” You scoff. “Do you not fear death?” He asks.
“Not from you,” You shake your head. “You’re not going to kill me,”
“Oh, yeah?” Erik asks, crossing his arms. You nod.
“You killed T’Challa but that was - as painful as it is to admit - justified because it was a fair challenge,” You grumble. “You kill me? You might as well get on national television and declare a world war. Because if I die, my kingdom will reign hell on you. You’ll fight back with your allies and my allies will come to the fight as well. My side won the last war and you’re not even crowned king yet. Do you think your sitting firm enough in your throne to win this war?” You ask out loud.
“You’re not going to kill me, Erik. Every moment you keep me here you risk war. You just threw the rightful ruler off the throne and your first act is to declare war? On me?” You tsk and shake your head. “You’re going to release me and focus on your own country before you try to spill into mine. I’m not giving you shit, boy. I worked for what I have. I have fought and bled for my people; I will not stop now. You don’t scare me. I’ve looked the devil in the eyes and slapped the shit out of him while my mate pissed on his boot,”
Erik scoffs obviously not believing it. Your smirk turns blood thirsty. You let out a psychotic laugh.
“Oh, you’re thinking I’m talking about my queen Matthew, aren’t you?” You ask, tilting your head. “Oh, no, darling. I’ll give you the insiders exclusive… Matt’s not my only mate,” You whisper. Erik lifts his eyebrow. “You ever hear a story about the Punisher? Frank Castle? How about Daredevil?” You ask. You don’t reveal Daredevil’s name. Let Erik think you have three other mates.
“You expect me to believe they’re your mates?” He asks.
“Do you know anything about my family? The rumors of my relationship with Frank Castle aren’t that old,” You tell him.
“Oh, right,” Erik nods. “You, Frank and some bitch named Maria,” The snarl you released was low and deadly. “Only I thought she had died and he husband left you?”
“Do you know what I did to the man responsible for her death?” You ask quietly. “I pushed a knife through the center of his throat and carved out the right side of it. Kept it as a souvenir,” The last bit was a lie but Erik obviously believed it.
“Unless you want to meet not only my wrath but the wrath of my mates - plus my kingdom, they seem to like me being their king - I’d let me go,”
“I didn’t come this far to not get what I want,”
“Spoken like a true child,” You grumble.
The door down the hallway slams open and in comes Natasha. You perk up only to see her being dragged in with multiple guns on her.
“Now you’ve done it,” You growled.
“She’s one off yours, isn’t she?” Erik asks. Natasha is forced onto her knees. The gunmen remain a safe distance. She spits out some blood and glares at him. When her eyes finally fall on you, she gives you a small nod. You relax the slightest bit knowing that Shuri and her mother are safe.
“She’s taken out about a dozen of our men.” One of the guards informs him.
“Only?” You ask. Natasha shrugs.
“It’s an off day,”
“Boy did your men get lucky,” you tell Erik. He hums and points a gun at her temple. “Chose your next actions very carefully,” You snarl.
“Meet my demands,” Erik says. Your jaw clenches.
“No,” You growled. Erik sighs and points the gun to her arm and pulls the trigger. Your eyes flare with rage as she gasps with rage. For the first time in years, you see genuine fear in her eyes but she masks it well.
“I will kill her,” Erik tells you.
“You kill her you declare war against my kingdom,”
“Apparently war is inevitable,” Erik shrugs. “Whether I kill her or not; whether I kill you or not I go to war. The only way to prevent it is to agree to my demands. Do that we avoid war, and she lives,”
You couldn’t do it. You knew he wasn’t bluffing but you couldn’t do it. The contract would be binding. Even when he releases you, you’d have no choice but to follow through. You couldn’t do it.
“No,” you tell him, your voice shaking just a bit. You look at Natasha begging her to understand. She gives you a bloody grin and begins to whistle. A tear slips down your eye as Erik pulls the trigger preventing her from finishing.
You watch Natasha fall limp to the ground. The blood began to pool around her. It didn’t feel real at first. Erik was speaking but you weren’t listening. You were looking at her.
You grew up with Natasha. Natasha, Yelena, and Valkyrie were your group of girls growing up. You went on adventures all throughout the castle. It hurt when Valkyrie returned to her kingdom, but she was still alive and visited. Natasha’s gone and there’s no bringing her back.
When you finally looked at Kilmonger all he saw was death in your eyes. You were void of all emotion. Then you whispered two words the shook him to his core and had him marching out of the room.
“You’re dead,”
Natasha’s body was left for you to watch. Even as Kilmonger’s men tried to beat you into submission. Every minute you looked at Natasha and every hit that landed on your body just fed your rage. It fed the beast inside of you.
Special shout out to @raelwrites (I really hope that tagged you correctly) for inspiring me to write this fiction series with her own series called - Gunpowder and Cinnamon! It’s worth a look! Promise!
Once Matt entered the private room, he released a large sigh. He heard Frank coming up to him and Matt practically rushed to meet him. Frank grinned pulling Matt into his arms.
“You were perfect, baby,” Frank whispered, kissing the top of his head. Matt hums breathing in his scent and basking in his warmth.
“I wish you were out there with us,” Matt mumbled.
“I know,” Frank whisper, holding him even tighter. “Soon,” He promises. “Whenever you need me just focus on the upper balcony. I’ll be hiding there with a few friends,”
“Then I’ll never focus on anything else,” Matt murmurs. Frank smirks leaning Matt’s head back. Matt huffs resting his head against Franks.
“I know today is going to be a lot, alright? It’s going to be long and filled with political bullshit, but Y/n is going to be right by your side the entire time,” Frank promises. “She won’t let you go through this alone,”
“She had too,” Matt whispers.
“Yeah,” Frank sighs hating that he couldn’t be with you when you desperately needed someone by your side. He wasn’t exactly excited about the new restrictions on his Punisher activities but if it cleaned his image and allowed him to be with the two of you, he’d do it without muchcomplaining. “But now none of us have to do anything alone anymore and we both have you to thank for that,” Matt blushes a little bit.
Adjusting to Daredevil was more natural than he thought it would be. Well, natural in the terms of fighting. The two of them could read each other easily and hardly needed to talk to understand the next move. The no-killing deal was hard to get behind. Matt was always there to stop him, and it was beyond annoying.
The two of them pull apart as you come into the room. You quickly shut the door behind you before anyone can peak in. You - like Matt had done - release a large sigh causing them both to smile.
“Matt - baby - you did so well,” You praise walking up to him. Before he could say anything, you’re giving him a small kiss. Being between you and Frank while kissing you made all the stress from the day slowly dissipate. “Finally… I have a queen,” You whisper against his lips. “A very handsome one at that,” You flirt.
Matt blushes and takes cover in the crook of your neck. You smile holding him closely. The two of you couldn’t hide for long, however. You had to meet with all the guests, shake hands, and make small talk.
“We have a few minutes but not long. Go take a seat because you’ll be on your feet all day,” You push him towards the chair before turning towards Frank.
Frank straightens his suit and gives a little spin. You laugh pulling him towards you. Your lips eagerly met, and he greedily pulled you into him. You moan softly before forcing yourself to pull away.
“Thank you for dressing up,” You whisper, running your hands over his chest.
“I expect a reward later,” He muttered, and you laugh but send him a wink. “I love you,” He whispers.
“I love you too,” You kiss him again before stepping away.
You grab Matt, and together the two of you enter the crowd. Matt keeps his arm linked with yours allowing you to guide him through the crowd. He was eternally grateful you advocated to keep the scents of the flowers and candles to be light. If all the scents overwhelmed him, he could either focus on the neutral scents or on you. Let’s be real, if anything became overwhelming, he naturally focused on you.
You were a calming beckon for him. He focused on everything about you from your silk dress to your steady heartbeat. He knew he was safe with you, especially since he could easily find Frank on the upper deck.
Being beside you and knowing Frank was close made it easier to deal with everyone. You guided him through the crowd introducing him to everyone. He met kings and queens, lords and ladies.
“Valkyrie,” You greeted with a smile.
“Please, today is a day of friendship and happiness. There’s no need to be formal, especially with me,” she says giving you a giant grin. “I’m Brunnhilde,” She introduces herself to Matt. “And I like to think of myself as Y/n closest friend,” She smirks.
“Easy, Natasha is around here somewhere,” You joke. She scoffs.
“I’ll take on that old spider anytime,” Brunnhilde waves dismissively. The two of you laugh.
“Matt, Brunnhilde spent a few years here as my father’s ward. We grew close during that time,”
“The only person to come close to drinking me under the table,” Brunnhilde boast. “But not quite,” You roll your eyes.
“I’m just happy we were able to make fools out of Thor and Loki,” you said, and she laughs loudly.
“As if that’s hard,” She smirks, and you agree. “I heard through the grapevine that you’re about to make a handsome deal with me,”
“You’d think by now I’d know how much of a security risk Banner is,” You grumble rolling your eyes.
“Oh, relax,” Brunnhilde pats your shoulder. “He’s only an open book with a select few and nobody can keep anything from me,” She winks at you.
“Yes, I plan on making a deal with a few people but today’s not the day to discuss these matters,” you tell her.
“Of course! Today isn’t about us, it’s about your queen. I’ll tell you now he’ll be the envy of the kingdom,” She smirks winking at you.
“No,” You whisper turning your head towards him. “I’ll be…” You mutter kissing his cheek lightly. Matt smiles bumping his head against yours. “Excuse us,”
You continue to lead Matt around. Not everyone was as pleasant as others, but Matt was handling everything well. When you noticed he needed a break you took him to the side for a breather. Never once did you pull your arm from his.
“How did you do this by yourself?” Matt asks under his breath. “All the lies and fake politeness, the politics and handshakes,”
“My coronation wasn’t quite like this,” you tell him. “My father had just passed so there were more condolences and even more lies. Lies of loyalty and support. Fake kindnesses. Everyone’s everyone’s friend in times of grief and celebration,”
“I’m sorry,” Matt whispers, rubbing his head against your neck. You lightly shush him before moving his head back to kiss his lips.
“Don’t ever hesitate to ask me anything. I’ll tell you everything,” You promise. “Life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows - you know this. I’ll share everything with you. The laughs and the heartbreaks,”
“I love you,” Matt whispers. You grin from ear to ear, pulling him impossibly closer.
“I love you too, my queen,” You mutter before kissing him again. “Come on, the night isn’t over yet,” Matt groans but lets you pull him back into the crowd.
“Excuse me, I’d like to give my congratulations,” A gentle, low tone says from behind you. When you turn you give the man one of the few genuine smiles of the day.
“T’Challa,” You greet giving him a warm side hug - still not willing to release your omega. “I’m glad you could make it, I understand you’re going through some… difficulties at home,”
“Nothing I cannot manage, I assure you,” T’Challa promises. “Are you still planning on visiting in a few weeks?” He asks.
“Yes, I have things I’d rather discuss with you in person,” You tell him.
“Then we will eagerly await your arrival,” T’Challa nods, bowing slightly. You return the bow out of respect. Not one for unnecessary discussions, T’Challa takes his leave.
“He’s lying,” Matt whispers just for you. “The problem in Wakanda is bigger than he’s letting on,” You hum thoughtfully but knowing now isn’t the time to discuss things.
“Ah, Mr. Stark…”
The night couldn’t be over fast enough. When the crowd thinned, and you finally led him back to the room Matt finally allowed himself to relax. You laughed softly as he unceremoniously collapsed on the bed. You begin to undress yourself when Frank climbs in through the window. You didn’t bother scolding him.
“Come here,” Frank murmurs to you. You grin swaying your hips as you move to him. Frank growls grabbing your hips and pulling you into him. “You look beautiful,” He whispers lightly kissing your lips. “Stunning,” He adds, going for your throat. “Regal,”
“Help me out of my dress,” You whisper. Frank nips your bear shoulder before turning you around. His warm, calloused fingers pull the zipper of your dress down your back. When the fabric falls to the floor your left in your underwear only - no bra.
Frank moans, his hands squeezing your hips before delicately grazing up your sides before stopping at their destination - you tits. You moan quietly, leaning your head back on his shoulder as he massages the both of them simultaneously.
“You know,” You whisper, glancing at Matt - who’s still laying on the bed. “I’m not the one that was coronated today,” You let out a low groan when Frank tweaks your nipples and grinds his bulge against your ass.
“You’re right,” He whispers, giving your shoulder a kiss before walking around you and towards Matt.
One week after Matt’s coronation positive report about the Punisher begin to flow in. Natasha gave them to you with a knowing grin - she knew (and approved) of what you were doing.
Two weeks after the coronation your deal with Valkyrie and the Guardians was complete. The first stages were in motion as well as the plan to distribute the wealth among your people.
Three weeks after the coronation you prepare for your trip to Wakanda.
“I don’t think you should go,” Matt says, standing to the side with his arms crossed. “Everything is pointing towards a mutiny in Wakanda. It’ll happen any day now, I don’t want you there,”
“Now is the best time to go,” you tell him. “It’s fall and absolutely beautiful there,” You explain.
“No offense, but I don’t exactly care about what season Wakanda is going through,” Matt snips.
“You should,” you tell him. “Even the blind can appreciate the change in seasons,” you say. Matt sighs frustratingly.
“Fine, I’ll bite, what’s up with the change of season?” He questions.
“It’s nearly winter. Leaves are falling off the trees but there’s still decent cover. There’re not many hiding places for the enemy to claim and with all the leaves on the ground you’ll hear anyone coming,” You explain.
“If you brought me, you wouldn’t have to worry about that,” Matt tells you again.
“No,” You shake your head.
“So, you can risk your life, but I can’t risk mine?”
“Oh, don’t pull that card. You get to risk your life every day as Daredevil, love,” You tell him.
“Is that what this is about? You need some kind of adventure?” He asks and you sigh finally coming to stand in front of him.
“No,” You whisper, resting your hands on his hips. “I’m not taking you because you lived in the center of a war for most of your life and you choose to partake in violent activities at night with Frank. I don’t want to bring you to Wakanda because of the threat of another war. I don’t want you to go through anymore violence than you already are,” Matt opens his mouth, but you lightly shush him, pulling him closer. “I have to go, baby. The deal between me and T’Challa will help solidify his hold on the throne. Me going shows solidarity and I just won a war against a very powerful opponent,”
“At least take Frank with you. Don’t go alone,” Matt whispers, his hands rubbing your arms.
“No can do, baby. You’re still new to the kingdom and I don’t trust everyone in court to be kind to you. Frank stays with you,” You whisper kissing his forehead and stepping back. Matt growls running his hand through his hair. “I’m not going alone, love,” You promise. “I’m not that stupid,”
“Who are you taking?” Matt asks.
“Natasha and Yelena,” you tell him. “Maria and Sharon will be waiting on the outskirts of the kingdom ready to come if we need them. We’re keeping our party small,”
“Small party, less casualties,” Matt growls.
“If we bring too many, we’ll make the people of Wakanda nervous. Our business with Valkyrie and the Guardians isn’t public yet. We bring too many people they might feel like we’re invading or planning a takeover. In their eyes we already have Fisk’s territory why not T’Challa’s as well? Why not take his kingdom out from under him while he’s busy with this Erik Killmonger bullshit?”
Matt growls pacing. You watch him for a moment before returning to his side. You let out a low purr while guiding him into your arms. He was still huffing and puffing but you eventually got him to relax.
“I know you’re worried, baby,” You whisper. “But there’s nothing - not even death herself - that will stop me from coming back to you,” You promise.
“That’s not entirely comforting,” Matt whisper. He leans back and presses his head against yours. “I don’t want you going. I don’t doubt you can handle yourself and I know this is important but I’m still asking you to stay,” Matt pleads. “I don’t want you to be there when the threat of war turns into reality. I don’t want you in danger or getting hurt,”
“I’m king, Matt,” You whisper. “I’ll never be safe,”
“You are,” He states as fact instead of opinion. “Right here, in my arms. The only way you could possibly be safer is if Frank was with us,”
“I love you, Matt Murdock,” You whisper, pressing your lips against his.
Despite all the effort not only Matt put in but Frank as well to keep you from going to Wakanda - you still went. T’Challa is someone you strongly respect and a very close friend. Taking risks is what being king is. T’Challa is worth the risk.
Only, Killmonger anticipated your move. There were only a select few things where you were predictable in and Killmonger picked up on it. He timed his revolution against T’Challa perfectly with your arrival to Wakanda. When you were in the throne room greeting T’Challa Killmonger busted through the door and challenged the king for the throne through death by combat.
You really should have stayed with Frank and Matt.
Part 13 of the omega Fratt x alpha reader! Uh- Matt and Foggy interactions- The boys getting jealous, and Stephen getting magically hurt- pack™ interactions as always- Enjoy <3
Also, uh- Foggy isn’t going to be the best of friends in this fic, and I would like to make it clear that I love Foggy but the plot kinda requires him to be a slightly shitty (but well meaning) friend-
Foggy saw Matt more often. There was the fact that Matt showed up more frequently near where he worked, but there was also the fact that Foggy took the time to look for him in the crowds.
Although Foggy didn’t outright speak to Matt- he was still mad at him, after all- he watched as the man walked with confidence in his steps, cinnamon scent curling around the room whenever he stepped in. He watched the way some officers nodded towards Matt with small smiles on their lips- and he watched as some of the workers in the café handed him his order whilst vehemently refusing payment-
From time to time, Foggy would see Matt walk the busy streets with his hand gripping on another man’s forearm- the cinnamon scent mixing with the mint coming from the man guiding him along the way. Foggy could hear the way the two men spoke Spanish- he had stared at them for a while, but the mint scented man had caught his gaze- and the man had snarled- the sound so low and threatening- and so protective made his inner alpha bristle horribly. The sound had also caught the attention of the others around them-
But Matt had easily made the other alpha stop with a low, warning hiss of ‘Jake-’ and Matt had given him a small smile before apologising for the other man’s behaviour. And before Foggy could say anything, the two of them had left- leaving Foggy behind with more questions.
Some days, he would see Matt conversing with Spiderman- who had apparently popped his head over to Hell’s Kitchen- as the red and blue wearing vigilante? superhero? dropped a container into his hands. And Foggy had watched, gobsmacked, as Matt laughed at something Spiderman said- a laugh, so genuine and sincere- one he hadn’t heard from Matt in months-
Frequently, he’d see the honey scented woman Karen had spoken to him about. She always had her arm looped around Matt’s and he’d bump into her shoulder in a relaxed, joking manner. He had used to do it to Foggy-
Sometimes, he would see a tall raven-haired woman walking beside him, her head held high, making people part way for the two of them. And for some unsettling reason, Foggy felt his inner alpha shiver and cower when her unnaturally green eyes skimmed past him- There was something off about her- Something that shook him to the core-
One time though, Foggy had seen Matt with Stephen Strange- the guy he had drunkenly argued with in one of the parties back in college- And the man had locked eyes with him, and Foggy couldn’t help but flinch back at the pure iciness of his blue eyes. And Foggy had no choice but to watch as the previously esteemed doctor wrapped an arm around Matt to pull him away from the road.
Most times though, Foggy saw Matt with either Castle or you. Castle chuckling lowly when Matt pressed a soft kiss onto his cheek- You pressing a chaste kiss onto Matt’s cheek as he purred- Had Foggy ever heard Matt purr recently? Back in college, Matt used to purr almost nonstop whenever he leaned against Foggy. He used to purr at the smallest contact Foggy would give him.
But after the whole man in the mask fiasco? During the Frank Castle trial? Foggy hadn’t heard even the quietest purr from him.
Matt had been the one to push him and Karen away. He had been the one to be too immersed in his Daredevil work- not considering the worry that ate up at Foggy every night- He had completely disregarded his life as Matt Murdock- Foggy knew Matt first, before Daredevil. It hurt him to see his best friend lose himself to the Devil-
Foggy knows he didn’t respond in the best way. His inner alpha- as well as his naturally strong protective characteristic made him react in a more aggressive manner than required. He had yelled, and- and in the heat of the moment, he had told Matt that he would get hurt because he was an omega-
“Jesus, Matty.” Foggy breathed out, a glass of whiskey in his hand, as he gazed out the window, his eyes fleeting over the lights of the buildings in front of him. “Where did we go wrong?”
~ ♥~
This was supposed to be a fun night out- with you and Frank and Matt grabbing a drink at Josies before going back home. But-
“Come on- you seem like a nice, strong alpha-”
You sipped your drink again, silently regretting your decision to wear one of Steven’s turtleneck sweaters today- but in your defence, it was cold- And everyone- every regular, at least, knew that you, Matt, and Frank were exclusive- so flirting had nearly never been a problem before.
“I told you.” You said, glaring over at the omega leaning seductively? against the table. You crinkled your nose slightly at the pure intensity of the scent- it was so obvious that the tactic had worked on other alphas. “I’m not interested. I have bondeds.”
“They don’t have to know,” the omega purred out, as a finger grazed at your hand- you were quick to snatch your hand out of the omega’s grasp- snarling in warning-
“They said no.” A low hiss. And a familiar hand circling at your waist. The scent of cinnamon with a tinge of ash. “And our sweetheart here said that they already have bondeds.”
Another familiar presence slipped to your other side, and a rough, callused hand wrapped around your own, squeezing. Your other lover’s scent, more gunpowder than lavender, wrapped around you.
You couldn’t help but breathe out in relief as the unwanted sickeningly sweet scent of the omega was overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of your lovers’ mixed scents.
The omega looked at your lovers up and down before making an expression similar to one of disapproval.
“Ohhoney, you could do so much better-”
You snarled, letting your enraged scent circle around you. The omega immediately flinched back, overwhelmed by how furious your scent smelled. You wrapped your arms around both your lovers’ waists and tugged them towards you so that they were pressed firmly against you.
“I said no.” You hissed out, as your grip on your lovers tightened. “Numerous times. Politely- Because I didn’t want to make a scene.”
You bared your teeth at the omega, smiling with no happiness at all. And your inner alpha, infuriated at the implication that your chosen bondeds weren’t good for you, wanted nothing more than to claw at the omega’s throat-
But, as if sensing your inner alpha’s aggressive thoughts, Matt was quick to tug down the turtleneck part of the sweater to expose your bond mark and pressed a quick kiss onto it.
Frank, however, made no move to calm you down- and when you glanced at him from the corner of your eye, you could see him darkly glaring at the uninvited omega, who flinched even more at the scowl playing on his lips.
“But you came here, overstepped when I repeatedly told you no. Then you had the audacity to insult my mates? My bondeds?”
“Leave.” Frank lowly growled out, and you saw the way his fists clenched and the way his jaw flexed. “Now. Or I can’t promise you’ll get to unscathed.”
The three of you watched as the omega nearly scampered away- and you melted into the warmth emanating from your lovers.
“We’re sorry we’re late, sweetheart.” Matt murmured, as he pressed his lips against your temple. “We knew you had everything under control- but me and Frank here- we could tellthat you were getting increasingly frustrated.”
You hummed softly as you allowed Frank to grip your chin gently to lift your gaze towards him. His eyes- which was once dark and furious- had softened considerably. He was tender in the way he pressed a kiss onto your forehead.
“You’re too attractive for your own good, baby.” Frank muttered, a hint of mirth in his voice. “Me and Murdock here leave you alone for one minute-”
“Uh-huh.” You rolled your eyes at Frank’s words. “Did you already forget all those times I had to step in because some alphas- and betas- and hell, even the omegas- were drooling all over the two of you?”
“I mean- we are pretty attractive.” Matt said, a sly smirk on his lips. “Or so I’ve been told.”
You scoffed at Matt’s words whilst Frank simply chuckled and nodded in agreement.
“The two of you are insufferable,” you said, your words dripping with a certain fondness and affection.
“But you love us,” Matt responded nonchalantly as he passed you a glass of your usual drink. You took a sip of your drink and laughed.
“But I love you.”
~ ♥~
Loki was surprisingly comfortable with the young endir.Peter, the child, had been the one to hold him to most when he was a cat. And it appeared as though that fact allowed the child to be more open with him. More…accepting.
The child loved physical contact. Always greeting you and your other packmates with a hug- sometimes even pressing soft kisses onto the older pack members’ cheeks. El-Faouly and you always reciprocated, Matthew sometimes responded similarly, whilst the others simple ruffled his hair or rolled their eyes.
But, Loki had also noticed how the child would shy away from other touches- skirting away from touches that were not his pack or his aunt. Being more restrained with his physical contact.
Loki had, however, noticed that the child was less inhibited with touch with him- despite the fact that Loki was not a pack mate or even a fri- an ally.
But here he was, with the child babbling on and on about some magic theory, as the child had his head on Loki’s lap, his brown eyes looking up at him with a certain awe.
“-and I’ve heard from Stephen that your magic is different from his- Mr. Loki sir- could you show me how yours works?”
Loki couldn’t help but chuckle at the eagerness of Peter’s words- the young one reminded him of when he had been a child- interested to learn about the realms- interested about how everything worked-
“Of course, little one. And Loki is sufficient enough. There is no need to add any titles.”
Although Loki instinctively stiffened at the vanilla scent as well as the excitement in it, he was quick to relax.
You and the rest of your pack have been helping to ease him into the scents of the fyrir and the endir.Slowly exposing him to stronger and stronger scents-
The first scent Loki had been exposed to was of the Sorcerer Supreme’s oceanic scent. And Loki had been completely fine with that. He had felt surprisingly soothed by it- By the way his scent reminded Loki of the oceans- of freedom- And he couldn’t push away the contentment the Giant part of him felt when the man’s lips barely grazed above the top of his head- Loki shook away those thoughts.
The next scents he had been scented with were of the endirsthe soft cinnamon from Matthew. The sweetness of lavender from Francis. And the pureness of vanilla from Peter. Reassuring, calming, and caring. As the endirs surrounded him with their scents, Loki had been surprised by the fact that he didn’t feel the urge to throw up- or the bile rise up to his mouth.
‘This is what it’s supposed to feel like.’ Matthew had told him. ‘Comfort. Care. Compassion.’
And Loki had echoed back the words in a questioning awe.
The last scents he had surrounded himself with were those of the fyrirs-You, Steven, and Layla. The three avatars. Steven’s sharp mint scent washing over him as the man uncertainly draped his sweater on him. Layla’s honey scent as she played with his long hair- reminding him of the times he had spent with his mo- Frigga.And your scent. Strong but not dominating- not oppressive. Wrapping around him protectively-
Loki focused back to the present and flicked his wrist, as the room melted away to show Peter and himself the universe. He felt the familiar warmth of his seidr engulf his hands.
“Wow.”
“Wow indeed, child.” Loki basked in the universe his seidr had created. It had been the first trick Frigga had taught him. To get him interested in the art of magic. “The good doctor’s magic has many uses, but it is nigh impossible for it to create illusions like this.”
“It’s beautiful,” Peter said breathlessly. Loki couldn’t help but chuckle at the young endir’s expression. The child really did remind him of himself, back in the simpler times.
And Loki tried something he had not done before- something he didn’t have the courage to do.
He tentatively reached down to Peter’s head, and caressed a lock of his soft brown hair and reached out with his scent-
A sharp inhale coming from the child on his lap made Loki panic and pull back his scent and his hand. Did he do something wrong?
But Peter gripped his wrist with surprising strength and pulled Loki’s hand back to his hair, purring.
“I like your scent, Loki.” The child muttered as he closed his eyes. “’s nice.”
And Loki couldn’t help but think- maybe he does like his scent too.
~ ♥~
Foggy did not expect to see Daredevil slumped against a wall of an alley at- he looked down at the watch on his wrist- three in the morning. Foggy had been walking from a late night at work when he heard loud banging- and he had recklessly stumbled in, his bag clutched close to his chest.
“Matt?”
“F-Foggy?” The man in red- his best friend- rasped out, as he tilted his head to gently thump against the brick wall. “What- What are you doing here?”
“I heard banging- Jesus Christ, Matt- what happened?”
The ashen scent- a signature of the Devil of hell’s kitchen- oozed out of him. And Foggy couldn’t help but think- Matt definitely didn’t have that scent when he last saw him-
Foggy could see his lips purse, as if he didn’t want to tell him.
“Matty-”
“For fuck’s sake, Matt.” A low, slightly growly voice cut Foggy off and he couldn’t help but gape at the white cladded man dropping down from the sky? “I told you to be careful.”
Foggy watched, as Matt relaxed when the man’s feet touched the pavement.
“Fuck you Spector- this is not the time to tell me that-” Matt wheezed, and Foggy almost instinctively moved to steady him but-
The man, smelling distinctly of mint- strong and dominant and protective- was quick to grab him. And Foggy had a feeling the man was glaring at him.
“They’re gonna be pissed- I think you promised your bondeds that you won’t get hurt this time.” Foggy watched as the white cladded man shifted Matt in his arms, slinging his arm around his own shoulders. And Foggy watched as Matt melted into the other man’s grasp, sighing softly. “Steven tells me to tell you that he’s mad- and worried sick. Jake’s calling you-”
“-anidiota, I know.”
The man in the white barked out a laugh, and Foggy couldn’t help but feel as if he were intruding on something more… private.
“Foggy”- Matt called out, and Foggy immediately looked at him- “can you get back home safely?”
“Uh- yeah. Yeah, buddy I can.”
“Then go.” The mint scented man said, his voice dropping back down to a growl. “And go before you run into trouble.”
But Foggy hesitated.
“Matt- Call me sometime?” Foggy asked, voice quiet- and he could see how Matt’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Please, Matty? Just to meet up for a talk?”
Foggy only left when Matt nodded.
~ ♥~
“Where is he?” You snarled out, scent rolling off of you, causing most of the betas of the sanctum to flinch back. All except for Wong, who simply stiffened at your enraged state. “Wong-”
“He’s upstairs. And so are your pack members. Loki’s working on pulling him out of the spell.”
You hissed once more before stomping up the stairs. But before you could get very far up, Stephen’s cloak of levitation flew down towards you, wrapped itself around your shoulders before quite literally lifting you from the ground and flying you towards where you assumed Stephen was.
You ran over to the bed the moment the cloak set you on the floor. A soft wounded noise escaped your lips when you saw your pack mate- skin littered with ominous purple writing- body shaking and spasming and skin too pale-
Loki was in her more feminine form, her slender fingers pressed onto Stephen’s temples- her green seidr seeping into his skin as the Sorcerer Supreme let out low pained sounds.
Jake was pacing around the room, muttering something quickly- and incomprehensible. You assumed he was talking to Khonshu. Layla was sat next to Loki, and you could see that she was in her divine outfit, gifted to her by the goddess Tawaret. Layla was holding onto Loki’s hand, and you could feel the divine energy flowing from her to the deity of mischief.
Peter was next to Stephen, his hand gripping onto the older beta’s and when he noticed you enter the room, he had let go to run over to you, burying his face into your body as he shook.
You cooed softly, as the young omega- his vanilla scent brimming with panic and distress. You gently led him back to where Stephen was and passed him over to Matt, who took the younger omega in his arms, scenting him and reassuring him.
Frank held Stephen’s other scarred hand, pressing it against his cheek as he looked up to lock eyes with you. His scent was void of distress or panic, but you knew he was worried too.
“You’re here, fyrir.” Loki murmured, her eyes closed, and sweat dripping down her forehead. “Help me.”
“How?” You asked, fleeting immediately to her side. “How can I help?”
“Put your hand on his temple. Paregoros will guide your power if you do. Trust her and trust your powers.”
You nodded and reached over to gently press your fingers onto Stephen’s head and was about to pull back when you felt him whine and jolt violently-
But-
You felt it- the creeping darkness within him- something that shouldn’t be there. Encroaching Stephen’s mind-
‘Hello, my child. It appears as though you need my help.’
“Paregoros,” you breathed out, as the familiar warmth washed over you. You could feel a warm hand cover your own.
‘Your pack mate is in a bit of a bind, is he not? And although I do not hold a fondness for Loki, I can see that she is doing her best.’ You could hear the smile in your patron’s words. ‘Let’s help her out, shall we?’
You let out a stuttering breath when you felt heat wash over you- spreading from your heart and flowing to your hand- pushing back whatever had invaded Stephen’s mind.
“You are doing a phenomenal job, fyrir.” Loki’s voice was back to being masculine. “I can see the markings turn golden. Just a bit more-”
Although your eyes were open, you weren’t really seeing what was in the material world. You didn’t know how to explain it- it was a sight that you, as a human, should not have seen- and you really couldn’t comprehend what it was.
Sensations- colours- seeing objects which should be familiar to you, but being somehow not- Foreign sensations flooding your body-
You felt like you were burning from the inside- and you could feel your hands tremble from all the divine energy coursing through your body.
A trembling hand pulled your hand away. And you could feel the world crash down on you again. You breathed out and it hit you. You could taste blood on your lips- and you could feel liquid dripping down your nose.
You blinked, and focused on the open, icy blue eyes of the beta in your pack. He had your hand in his, and he rubbed circles onto your palm with his thumb.
“Alpha.” He said, voice fatigued and raspy. “Alpha.”
And at his words, your pack was on him- Peter leaping into the Sorcerer Supreme’s arms, rubbing his head into the older beta’s shoulder, shaking- Jake rushing over to grab Stephen’s face in his hands- Layla cooing softly as she took his other scarred hand and resting it on her cheek- Matt moving nearer to you to support you- his hand patting Stephen’s leg reassuringly- Frank cursing lowly in relief as he brushed a strand of hair away from the beta’s face-
“Loki.” Stephen whispered, making all your other packmates look at the man. Loki seemed to squirm slightly at all the eyes on him. “I- Thank you.”
Loki flippantly waved his hand.
“It was nothing- your fyrir did all the work anyway-”
“Get in here, Green.” Frank muttered, as he reached out to grab Loki’s sleeve. “You saved pack-”
You could see Loki hesitate- rocking on the back of his heels.
“Please, Loki?” you asked, and you smiled when he relented, falling into the arms of your pack.
~ ♥~
Matt sat in the café quite uncomfortably- with Foggy sitting in front of him. He didn’t know when Foggy became less of a comforting presence and more of a source of distress. He thinks the start was when Foggy found out he was the man in the black mask.
It had been then- the moment his strong bond with Foggy started to fray. Matt had tried to hold onto it for as long as possible- because even as a repressed omega, he knew- he knew that he would not survive without a single bond.
“So- Matty. How have you been?”
“I’ve been well. My pack’s been taking care of me.”
Matt couldn’t help it- maybe it was Layla rubbing off on him- he couldn’t help but take a slight jab at Foggy- the unspoken ‘unlike you’ must have reached him because Foggy’s heart stuttered slightly.
Matt immediately recoiled, and an apology was on the tip of his tongue- But a bitter laugh cut him off.
“Taking care of you? Matt- they’re indulging you with your bad habits- they’re letting you sink further and further into your life as daredevil- Buddy, you pack might not be the best for you-”
Matt’s inner omega bristled immediately. What? How could Foggy say something like that? His pack members- you, Frank at the beginning, Peter joining later, then the Moon Knight system and Layla, to Stephen and now maybe Loki- were the ones to pull him from his spiral- the ones to help him accept his omegan tendencies the tendencies neither Foggy nor Karen knew he was repressing-
A low warning hiss erupted from his throat, and his cinnamon scent soured and mixed with his ashen one. Foggy didn’t even know that Matt hadn’t been through a heat before- He could hear Foggy take in a sharp breath.
“Shit- Matty- I didn’t mean-”
“My pack-” Matt snarled out, as he stood up abruptly from his seat- “My pack helped me through all the shit I’ve been through. They understand- about what I have to do- what I need to do.” He took in a deep breath, trying to control his anger. This was still Foggy. A well-meaning alpha, but one who doesn’t really understand. “Thanks for the coffee, Fogs. But I’ve got to go.”
“Matty-”
“Matthew.” A smooth, confident voice called him. And he felt cool slender fingers wrap around his forearm. “Your lovers were getting worried. They sent me to take you back home.” Matt could hear Foggy’s heart speed up once more. “If you are done here, allow me to escort you back home.”
“Wait- Matt-”
“I believe you were done here.” Loki said, her tone sharp and unyielding. Her scent, although distinctly betan and lacking the dominance, still was as strong as most alphas- maybe it was due to her less human biology. “I am escorting a…friend back to his home. So I suggest you back off.”
With that said, Matt allowed Loki to pull him away from Foggy- and honestly speaking, he didn’t know how to feel about it. Sad that he and Foggy drifted away beyond repair? Angry that they no longer shared an understanding? Empty?
“Relationships are hard, Matthew,” Loki said, as she placed her other hand above his, which had been clutching at her forearm.
“I know that.”
“They come and go. If it was decided by the Norn’s, you might reconcile with him. If not-” Matt felt her shrug- “you have your pack. And me.”
“Right. Of course. Thank you.”
A beat of silence.
“I’m a Catholic though- I don’t believe in the Norns-”
Frank placed a bouquet of her favourite flowers on her grave, kissed the tips of his fingers and touched her headstone. Although he now had a lovely lady waiting back at home for him and a new family of his own, he’d never forget the three that were no longer there with him.
"Dada..dada..” Rowan babbled away in his father’s arms, pinching Frank’s cheeks with his chubby hands.
“Alright buddy, let’s go."
Leaving the cemetery behind, Frank headed for his truck to strap Rowan into his seat and got in before pulling away from the curb. He left Y/N in bed this morning to get her some flowers and a few other things to surprise her with during the course of the day. Frank wanted her to sleep in today without any disturbances hence he brought Rowan along with him.
The drive home wasn’t a long one, Frank pulled up to the curb and killed the engine before getting out to get to his son as well as the stuff he bought. Rowan had spent the entire drive back babbling and squealing in delight while he played with his toy that played music with each button he pressed. Frank swore he was going to shove that toy down Foggy’s throat whenever he saw him again.
Once the front door was shut behind them, he placed the toddler on the ground and handed him the bouquet of white lilies.
"Take this to mummy, Row.” Frank whispered to the child who eagerly walked off to the dining table where Y/N was having her cup of coffee.
“Mum..mum."
"Oh my goodness, thank you baby.” Y/N took the bouquet from his tiny hands and kissed his cheeks before he could run off to play with his toys in the living room. Frank walked over to her and tipped her head back using his thumb and index finger.
“Happy mother’s day sweetheart."
"Thank you.” He leaned down to capture her lips in a sweet kiss.
“Get a room you two.” Amy joined the pair at the table causing them to break apart as she wrapped her arms around Y/N’s neck from behind, kissing her cheek in the process.
“Happy mother’s day, thank you for being such a great mom to Rowan and I, love you Y/N."
"I love you too Amy."
"I got you a few other things.” Frank placed the bag in front of her and she dug through the contents. He’d gotten her the chocolates she loved as well as some other things she’d been craving for lately.
“I appreciate it. Now, who’s hungry?” Amy took that as her cue to get started on breakfast, brushing off Y/N’s offer to help.
“Just know that this was the savory gift I could’ve given you around those two. Tonight you’re all mine.” Frank lightly nibbled on her ear, teasing her.
Y/N bit down on her bottom lip just thinking about the sex that they were going to have once they went to bed for that night.
rating:18+ (minors DNI).soft!frank but make it spicy.
word count: 736
a/n: had an idea.. starting writing it… blacked out…. bon appétit <3
The feeling of the bed dipping abruptly beside you as he slipped off of you. You selfishly already missed his warmth that had surrounded just seconds prior. Your body felt as if it were humming as you rolled lazily in your side to face him where he laid on his side of the bed. Your eyes drinking in the sight of him—
