#kastle drabble

[ninzied]

frank castle’s love language

In retrospect, the signs were there.

Frank brings coffee on late office nights. There’s a cup for Foggy too, but Foggy’s doesn’t come with two sugars and extra cream on the side.

On stakeouts, Foggy packs sandwiches—Karen neglects things like food when knee-deep in a case, but lately—

“I ate at home,” she says, so breezily Foggy doesn’t overthink it till later.

Then, when a rogue bicyclist crosses their path:

Before Foggy can blink, Karen’s pulled back, by—Foggy does blink, now—nothing more than Frank Castle’s finger, tugging her to him by her waistband.

And that small touch tells Foggy everything.

#kastle #kastle ff #kastlenetwork #kastle drabbles #foggy pov #froggy #<-- my most treasured tag

[starkholme]

The funny thing is that no one mentions the fact that DAW likes to be the "see good in all people" sunshine/powerful second wife of a grumpy guy who lost everything/keeps looking for revenge

LIKE NO ONE MENTIONS ????

#deborah ann woll #karen page #faye #god of war ragnarok #the punisher #and they happen to be Hozier coded #like legit #Blood upon the Snow #is awesome #and NFWMB was written for Kastle #can someone in the Kastle fandom makes a drabble with Karen calling Frank by the nickname grumbles #for personal reasons #obviously #forehead touches are a love language #the tags don't make sense but you guys get me #right? #fayetos #kastle

[kanerallels]

For the Christmas Dabbles-

Kastle (platonic or romantic) and I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day.

You are the first ask I got for this and also the most genius this is the best prompt I've ever read. Thanks so much for the ask!!

“You really believe in all that?” Frank glanced at her sideways. She wore a stunning green dress, her hair shimmering in the moonlight, and he was finding it very hard to stop looking at her.

“Believe in what?”

“You know. The usual Christmas crap. Peace on Earth.”

Karen was silent, staring out at the cold dark city. Frank could smell snow in the air— it was only a matter of time before it started to come down. “Maybe not the way most people do,” she said finally. “I’m hardly an idealist— you know that.”

He did. He’d seen her face too many things not to.

“But,” she continued, and now she looked at him, and he couldn’t take his eyes of hers, blue filling his gaze. “I think there’s goodness in the world. And peace. Maybe it’s just a little harder to find.”

“You think we can find it, then?”

“Yeah,” she said, and he felt her hand catch his, their fingers locking together. “I think we can.”

Christmas fic ask game!

(also I've started posting last year's fics on AO3, here's the link!)

#thanks for the ask!! #kastle #karen page x frank castle #frank x karen #ahhhh my kastle fic debut!!! #i'm pretty proud of it actually #christmas drabbles #christmas #christmas fics #i heard the bells on christmas day #the punisher #don't ask about the timeline i have no idea when this is set i barely know where this is set #also please excuse frank's cynicism #he's such a hallmark main character sometimes #writing stories is a kind of magic too

[outer-edges]

20 questions for fic writers

thank u for the tag @freetobeyouandmichi-me

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

19

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

91k

wow didn’t realize id published so little. this is purely because i am a miserly old man who hoards fics. i have probably twenty finished lucifer fics sitting in my drive. and no one will ever get to see them 💙

3. What fandoms do you write for?

currently? really none. in the past? mainly miraculous ladybug, lucifer, carry on (simon snow) & the last of us

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

it’s how we show love - tlou

game? im not playing any games (unless you count the ones i play with beatrice) - lucifer

sharing is caring - tlou

we’re not dating - lucifer

a police consultant, a sandwich, a neatly sliced apple, and a cup of tea - lucifer

im linking all of those but be warned the lucifer ones are SOOOOOOOO teenage mattie cringe i was like a sophomore in high school when i wrote those.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

YES!!?!?!?!?!!!

i love comments. im actually kissing all of my commenters on the virtual mouth. mwah. if I’m normal in a comment reply just know I’m actually giggling and kicking my feet.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

EASILY gotta be someone better bc it’s just a canon compliant little drabble from lucifer 3x21 (iykyk)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

honestly all of them pretty much have happy endings??? i think happiest is gotta be meet me at our spot because that’s overall the fluffiest fic I’ve ever posted

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i dont think I’ve received anything within driving distance of hate which i am very grateful for. but i also know it’s because my fics reach very little people so it’s a little hard to get hate if haters aren’t seeing ur fics

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i do not

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

that I’ve published?? no. have I EVER written a crossover? a million times yes. every fandom I’ve ever written for has been crossed over with each other in every permutation. favorite one has to be aos x lucifer. the craziest one is probs the harley quinn x icarly one i plotted out (it’s called iHarley and i started it for a writing even but never finished).

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

no because much like the hate thing it is a little hard to get hate when you’re unknown. there are perks to it

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

no

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no but omg I would LOVE to

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

dude this is too hard to choose from. either kastle or deckerstar

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

will i be shot if i say the time loop 🫣

16. What are your writing strengths?

i think it’s dialogue? i mean what does the audience say?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

ummmm. does finishing things count 💀

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I haven’t ever really tackled it before because I only speak english with a minimal command over spanish but i have included a couple words of spanish here or there in tlou fic! it is just very Daunting

19. First fandom you wrote for?

pretty little liars!!! i ran an instagram account with like 1000 followers where I posted fics in the comments at the ripe age of nine 💙

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

THIS IS SO HARD ITS LIKE ASKING ME TO CHOOSE A FAVORITE KID—

it’s the daisycoulson one

(honorable mention for the miller fam vacation 💙)

and honestly if u see this and want to do it consider urself tagged i am too lazy to tag people right now sorryyyyy

#tag game #I have to get back to final studying this was just a brief intermission

[fireblaze5555]

Kastle Drabble

A quick idea that struck me over the weekend.

Title: A Long Day

Summary: Frank and Karen deal with intruders in their apartment

Available on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26470678/chapters/64501375 

Part 1: Karen:

Karen half stumbled into the apartment, exhaustion and relief in equal parts making her clumsy as she tossed her keys down and kicked her heels off to beeline for the kitchen. She was more than ready for a beer, sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. The day’s investigation had led her in a wide circle around the city with very little viable information gained. In short, it was a complete bust and her feet were killing her. So, with practiced ease she flicked on the standing lamp in the living room, pulled a cold beer out of the fridge, opened and drained half of it with a satisfied sigh and headed for the bathroom, a hot bath calling her name.

It was nearly an hour before she emerged from the bathroom dressed in her favorite pair of sweats and most comfortably worn in t-shirt. The stress of the day was finally easing out of her shoulders and the aching in her feet had calmed to a dull throb so Karen was starting to feel much more positive about the rest of her evening. With a renewed sense of purpose, Karen ran long fingers through her wet hair and gave a determined nod, speaking quietly to herself, “Time to see if I can make some sense of what I did manage to find today…”

A creak in the living room made Karen turn sharply and just like that what hope for her evening she had managed to regain vanished into vapor, replaced with a spike of adrenaline and fear quickly followed by acute exhaustion and no small amount of annoyance.

She really wasn’t in the mood to be kidnapped or whatever the three men now standing in her living room had planned. Judging by the smug looks and weapons strapped to their waists, they weren’t here on a social call or even just to deliver a warning. It really spoke to her way of life and how much shit she had been through that now that the initial shock had worn off, she was just tired and annoyed. In the short time it had taken her to compute there was a threat in her apartment, Karen had already formulated a plan. There were weapons stashed all around the apartment and she knew how to use all of them, as long as she could avoid getting grabbed she felt fairly confident she could get out of the apartment mostly unscathed.

From where she stood a few feet outside of her bedroom doorway, Karen could see the kitchen and from the corner of her eye verified that her first choice for defense was tucked up under the island where it had been secured just the other day. She turned her attention back to the living room, watching the intruders again. They had moved a little further in and looked confident that their job was already done, no doubt assuming that a skinny blonde in her pajamas would be an easy take down. Karen felt the familiar hot rise of anger burn up her spine. When were men going to learn that underestimating her would almost always be their last mistake?

As subtly as she could, Karen flicked her eyes over again to gauge the distance between her and the gun fastened to her kitchen furniture when her eyes flicked over the neon numbers of the microwave flashing midnight. For a moment, through her clamoring thoughts, she tried to remember why the time seemed so significant. Then it clicked and some of the tension bled out of her shoulders.

One of the men took a step forward and looked like he was about to speak but Karen cut him off.

“You should leave. Now.” She said, her voice solid but laced with obvious weariness.

The man closest to her looked back at his friends with an incredulous little laugh before turning a patronizing smile to her, “Aw, but we just got here Karen. We can’t just leave before we have all the fun we have planned for y-..”

“Listen, I can honestly say I’ve heard several variations of this speech over the years and I just don’t have the energy for it tonight. I’ve had plenty of fun today, thanks anyway. You can go now.” The men continued to chuckle, eyebrows raised at her sharp tone and defiant demeanor. A heaving sigh escaped her. “Look, you really need to go before he gets home.”

One of the men, this one had a sharp smile, began to fiddle with a blade as he sauntered forward to stand next to his companion, “Ooh, you have a man living here with you Ms. Page? A real tough guy?” You have no idea , she thought but didn’t interrupt him. “Does he know that you’re snooping around where you shouldn’t be?”

Yes, it’s a never ending source of stress for him but he gave up trying to convince me to stop so I don’t see how that matters. Once again, she let him continue.

“Well even if he doesn’t, he’ll find out soon enough. We plan to carve every little problem you’ve caused for us into that pretty skin of yours, once we’re done with you, of course.”

It was so cliche it nearly made Karen roll her eyes. She didn’t though, she still needed to be focused, each time they got a little closer, she moved a little closer to her destination.

As much as she really didn’t like these men, and she really didn’t, she felt like she should try to give them one last warning.

“Whatever it is that I’ve done to piss you off, I’m telling you, it won’t be worth what’s coming. If you leave right now, I won’t report anything and you all don’t have to die.” Her voice was steady and earnest. If, by some miracle, they did decide to just leave she fully intended on reporting it to Mahoney, Karen was almost certain she knew what faction these men were from and it wouldn’t be hard to track them down.

As she expected, they just laughed.

“Well, we appreciate the warning Karen but I think we will stick around.” The gaze he scraped over her body made her give an involuntary shiver, “We are going to have so much fun together. Before we kill you and leave you here for your poor little boyfriend to find that is.”

Well, she did everything she could. Karen tensed, prepared to fight and watched the men across from her do the same.

Just as she felt like the tension was about to snap into a flurry of motion, there was a creaking behind her, the old floorboards protesting. Before she had time to process the new potential threat, three sets of eyes snapped to look over her shoulder, nearly identical sneers of bravado on each of their faces.

What Karen couldn’t see was death himself materializing from the dark of the bedroom doorway behind her. A face carved from granite and colored with deadly calm stared at the intruders, the deep set, nearly black eyes the only indication of the rage roiling under the surface. The men watched the newcomer advance with heavy footfalls, stepping around the mouthy private investigator to level a malevolent glare at each of them in turn. It was then that they took in the blood splatter across his face and the slow drip of blood from one of his fingers. He had a deadly stance that only a true killer could possess. Karen could see the confidence starting to drain from the men’s faces but it was the tactical vest that made them all go pale, taking several hurried steps back towards the door. A white skull stared back at them, the hollowed eyes seeming to follow their harried movement.

“Karen.” It was spoken quietly but the deep graveled voice seemed to fill all corners of the small apartment. “Did they touch you?”

“No, man! We didn’t lay a finger on her! We were just going to talk to her, I swear.” The cocky leader of the small group hurried to plead their case but Frank silenced him with a withering look, a low animalistic sound emanating from deep in his throat.

“I wasn’t talking to you asshole.”

Stepping forward, Karen laid a gentle hand to his shoulder, “No, Frank, they hadn’t done anything to me.” Yet , hovered in the air between them.

Without waiting to see what he would do, the men bolted for the door. They had been expecting an easy evening silencing a reporter, not a fight with the Punisher.

Frank tensed, ready to follow them but before he did he turned back to Karen. She knew he was going to kill them and was too tired to pick a fight on the matter. Instead, she looked him over quickly to be sure he didn’t have any obvious injuries from the mission he had just returned from and when her quick scan turned up nothing, she rested a soft hand to his cheek.

“Punctual as usual.” She said quietly. He had promised her he would be home by midnight and Frank didn’t break his promises to Karen.

He gave a small huff and some of the tension bled out of him before Frank leaned into the touch. He gave her palm a soft kiss then placed a softer, more lingering kiss on her lips.

“I’ll be back in less than an hour, wanna heat up some leftovers?” he asked, stepping back to check his ammo and stride toward the door, a predator on the hunt.

With a sigh, Karen leaned against the counter and for the hundredth time wondered how this was her life.

“Yeah, I’ll have it ready. Try not to get hurt, I’ve already taken a bath and I’m ready to go to bed.”

A crooked grin and a ‘Yes, Ma’am’ was all she heard before her apartment door clicked shut

Part 2: Frank

Frank slid through the bedroom window and landed noiselessly, trying not to wake Karen if she was already asleep. From a text she had sent him earlier it had been a rough day for her so he didn’t want to make it worse. Frank’s evening had been pretty standard, the targets he had been after went down without too much of a fight so the blood on him mostly wasn’t his, the shallow cut on his forearm the only exception.

The bathroom door opened just as he was settling the window quietly closed and he gave a little smile when he looked over his shoulder to see Karen emerge. She was in a loose pair of sweats and one of his worn in black t-shirts. She didn’t seem to notice him, taking a few steps out of the bathroom towards the kitchen, no doubt planning to do more work until he made her get some rest. Frank heard her mutter something to herself and just as he turned and started to poke a little fun at her for talking to herself, Karen’s head snapped to the living room to follow the noise he had just registered as well.

Instantly his body shifted back into battle mode, his muscles tensed and ready, his senses straining for any clues to the potential threat and with a few silent steps he saw the men standing in their living room.

Rage burned hotly through him along with no small amount of fear, Karen was far too close to the intruders. She was tense but he could tell she had already thought of possible scenarios and had probably already solidified a plan. His girl always was calm in the face of danger. Frank forced himself to only take a few steps forward and listen, he trusted Karen to protect herself, lord knows she had done it plenty before he came along, and if he could stay calm and pay attention he may be able to get information on what organization they are from. Just in case though he had his sidearm up and ready to take out the threat.

They stared each other down for what felt like an eternity and then Frank saw Karen glance to the side and just a hint of tension bled out of her.

“You should leave. Now.”

If he wasn’t so furious and anxious Frank would have smiled.

Listening to the exchange he was able to learn that they hadn’t come for her because of him. Which means she probably knew where they were from. Good.

“...Does he know that you’re snooping around where you shouldn’t be?”

Frank barely kept from scoffing. Oh, he knew. Every new gray hair he found he was certain was due to one Karen Page. Then the man threatened her, a wicked knife twirling in his hand and Frank was taking careful steps forward, pausing when Karen spoke up once again.

“...and you all don’t have to die.”

Oh, but they did. Now or later, it made no difference, he would find them. He felt a flare of pride, she knew he would be here for her. Karen may not realize that he is in the apartment now but trusts that he will be here because he gave his word. Another reason he didn’t deserve her.

Frank’s pride melted to anger when they laughed at her. The pieces of shit had no idea the mercy she was trying to grant them. Then again, they had come here to kill the only shining light in the city so they really weren’t all that smart.

When he saw all parties tense and prepare for action he took heavy strides out of the bedroom. Frank knew how capable Karen was but he wasn’t going to stand by and see her attacked when he was there to prevent it.

The soon to be dead men snapped their eyes to him as he carefully stepped around Karen and put himself between her and the threat. It was with grim satisfaction that he watched them realize their mistake and backpedal as quickly as they could. But it was too late for that.

“Karen.” He was trying to not let the rage take over. It would be best not to kill them in the apartment but now that he was closer to them he wanted nothing more than to end them. “Did they touch you?” He knew they hadn’t but a part of him needed the confirmation from her.

One of them had the nerve to speak for her and Frank nearly lost it. Just as quickly, he regained his composure when he felt Karen’s hand on his shoulder. She knew how to steady him.

The cowards fled quickly after that. He moved to go after them immediately but thought better of it, turning to Karen. As was tradition, she looked him over, scanning for injuries and reassuring herself that he was fine. It was a ritual they had adopted in their time together. A few moments to hover, dispel the worry then get back to living.

When she rested a cool palm to his cheek, Frank almost decided to not go after them for the night. He could find them just as easy tomorrow and he was tired. But he also knew he wouldn’t be able to truly rest until they had been eliminated. So with a couple lingering kisses he was headed toward the door.

“...Try not to get hurt, I’ve already taken a bath and I’m ready to go to bed.”

Christ he loved that woman.

“Yes, Ma’am.” he said around a smile and set out to wrap up some loose ends.

It wasn’t hard to find them, they hadn’t gotten far and their arrogance had returned once they were off of his home turf, thinking that he would not follow. Idiots.

So, true to his word, Frank was easing back into the apartment 45 minutes later to the smell of leftover pasta. He stopped long enough for another once over from Karen before reaching for a plate.

“Uh, Frank?” He looked over to her with a raised eyebrow,

Karen looked exasperated, “Do you think maybe you should, I don’t know, wash your hands or something?’ She shook her head at him when he stared at his bloody hands for a second. “Bathing in the blood of your enemies sounds real cool and all but practically speaking it’s just not sanitary, please let go of my good plate and go wash your hands at least.”

Frank gave an amused huff, setting the plate down and moving to the sink. Only after he had thoroughly scrubbed his hands and up his forearms did he return to the kitchen island. When he sat down Karen placed a kiss to his temple as she set a beer in front of him before settling in for her own dinner.

She filled him in on the details of her mostly failed endeavor today and became animated when she informed him that while he was gone she thought of another, sure-fire way, to get the information she needed.

Frank chewed slowly, hanging on her every word and throwing in his thoughts here and there but mostly just marveled at the woman before him, talking about her day like she hadn’t just had her life threatened and he hadn’t murdered a handful of people in the name of justice tonight.

For the thousandth time he wondered how this was his life.

Once they had eaten and Frank had scrubbed off in the shower, they stepped into the dark of the bedroom, both exhausted from the day's toils.

The last thing to be heard were murmured ‘I love you’s before the bedroom door clicked shut.

#kastle #frank castle and karen page #fic #kastle drabble #established relationship #post TPS2

[lilhemmo]

so... um... i've been imagining this in my head and i TOTALLY think you can bring it to life - kastle + holiday and fake married because i'm all about that fake married/dating trope and you're one of my fav writers :)

send me two au’s from THIS list + a ship/character

“I know this is the first time you’ve ever seen me and it’s Christmas so you probably have a family to get home to but I just-”

“Spit it out, lady.”

“This is my hometown and my stalker ex is here and I think he’s following me,” she breathes out at a frantic pace. Her strawberry blonde hair is falling in wisps around her face, her thin hand reaching up to push the lock away from her eyes. “I-I think he’s following me.”

The man’s dark eyes and brooding expression are the reason she chose him to try this rouse with her, but she’s wondering if he’s worse than the ex-fiance that’s been following her since her coffee shop stop this morning, approximately twelve hours ago.

Karen can feel her ex approaching like a cockroach crawling up her spine and she takes a step towards this man, her face paling as she sees him out of the corner of her eye.

“Sweetheart,” he pulls her into his side, wrapping one arm around her shoulder as he places his beer down on the counter with his other hand. “Listen, I’ve told you before you can have anything you want, no need to ask me like I’m going to say no.”

Karen finds herself leaning against his broad chest, her head falling perfectly against his pectoral. She feels a weight on her left hand and she pulls back to notice a simple diamond wedding ring on her fourth finger. She looks up at him in shock but he’s glancing down at her with warmth in his deep eyes.

“I-I know,” she stutters, unable to understand how this stranger can turn his attitude around so quickly. She’s thankful for it anyway. “I just like to ask, you know me.”

He pulls her closer and presses a warm kiss to her temple, the stubble around his jaw brushing her skin. He laughs and it’s a thick, throaty laugh that coats her heart, making her chest stick as she attempts to breathe.

“Another shot of whiskey for my lady, ‘uh?” he calls out to the bartender.

Karen watches as her ex slinks closer to them, observing them from across the bar. She makes eye contact with him and he must notice how she shrinks, how she falters when his gaze touches hers.

The shot glass is put in her fingertips by the man she is now letting call her sweetheart, and she does not hesitate for even a split second before bringing it to her lips and letting it sting her throat.

“Karen,” his voice is like lava seeping into her lungs and burning her alive. She bristles and the man holding her in his grasp can tell that this is the man she is wanting to be protected from. He still speaks, “K-Karen, look, I just wanted to-”

“Listen,” her savior speaks up, his voice gruff from the alcohol. “I know who you are. And I think you should leave Karen alone.”

“Who are you?” the other man turns his nose up.

“Frank.”

Karen’s ex huffs, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Frank licks his lips and takes a step forward, putting his left hand on the other man’s shoulder, “That’s supposed to mean that I’m her husband and we’re here to have a little Christmas getaway before we have to tell the parents for the third year in a row that no, we’re not pregnant with your grandkids.”

Karen feels a warmth that is welcome press against her temple, his deep chuckle resonating in her bones. 

“So, buddy, please let us be,” Frank reasons, his voice sweet like honey but cutting in its undertone. “We have enough of a rough road ahead of us.”

The other man blows out a nervous breath, getting ready to speak again but Frank interrupts him with his hand reaching up to pat the man’s neck. It is a harsher warning than Frank’s hand on his shoulder and it appears that he knows this because he shrinks away.

“M-Merry Christmas,” he stutters. “Good luck with your parents.”

Frank nods, “Thanks man. Merry Christmas.”

As soon as he’s out of ear shot, Karen slumps into Frank’s arms and lets out the breath that she was holding captive and making her dizzy with lack of oxygen. She licks her lips, “Th-Thank you, Frank. I-I’m so sorry.”

“Nah, s’all right. I hate men like that,” he huffs, taking another sip from his beer.

His arm still has not left her shoulder and she wonders if he even notices. The ring on her finger is heavy and she wonders how she is supposed to offer it back to him without making a big fuss.

“Leave it,” Frank shrugs, “may as well keep up the charade a while longer. I think I see another one of your creepy exes over there in the corner.”

Karen is nervous as she looks across the bar, but soon realizes his joke. She slaps his chest but leans into him anyway, “You’re an interesting guy, Frank. Got a last name?”

“Castle. You?”

“Page.”

“Yeah,” he leans in with his lips ghosting the shell of her ear, “I definitely see a couple of your exes over there. Looks like they’re coming over right now.”

Frank kisses her temple with a smirk, “We’ll probably have to keep this charade up all night.”

a/n: not sure if i’m happy with this but thank you for requesting!!!!!! you’re so kind anon!!!

#kastle #frank x karen #frank castle #karen page #kastle imagine #kastle drabble #kastle one shot #kastle fanfic #kastle fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel drabble #marvel one shot #marvel imagine #my writing

[edourado]

#23 for Kastle?

It had to wait until after season 3, apparently. 

Hope it’s worth the wait.

Much love ♥

P.S.: I’m a sucker for third person POV

What you do

Frank doesn’t say much about Karen. And David doesn’t ask.

Because there is no need for any sort of explanation, really.

He knew there was a storm coming the moment he saw the news - the Bulletin had been attacked, and employees of the paper were among the multiple fatal victims -, and he was right. He had barely managed to contain Frank, and even Sarah had to help, half soothing half scolding him into calming down, not act without information, wait a little bit.

Thank God for his wife, honestly. Frank had just sat down on the couch, his head in his hands, knee bouncing up and down uncontrollably while David tried to track Page’s phone, when she called.

“Karen?” Frank picked up, urgently, and Sarah sighed, a “thank God” leaving her while she got up to walk to the kitchen. “Jesus, are you ok?”

Soon, they were in the bunker (Sarah’s word for his and Frank’s new… Office) and he was working on upping security of the place, and Frank was grilling Karen about what had happened.

“It wasn’t him”, she was saying, sitting on the chair Frank usually occupied when he wanted to bug David to hurry up, while the man himself sat on David’s own chair, who had to make do with a stool from the kitchen area to work. “He was dressed as Daredevil, but it wasn’t him.”

Her voice had a shaky quality to it, and David turned to offer her some tea while Frank shook his head.

“You don’t have to tell me that”, he said when David got up to put the kettle on. “That doesn’t sounds like him at all.”

“Oh, God, all those people”, Karen said into her hands, losing a battle against the tears that had been threatening to fall since Frank got her there, and, David suspected, even sooner. “They got killed because of me, I should never have-”

“Hey, hey, hey” Frank interrupted. “You stop that, you hear me? Right now. That was as much your fault as it was Red’s. You can’t take responsibility for some lunatic’s actions, Karen.”

“But it was Fisk”, she said between tears and controlled sobs. “He was there for the witness, and if I hadn’t-”

“That son of a bitch will get his. He’s responsible for this, not you. You were trying to do the right thing.”

David saw as she lifted her head to look at Frank and nodded, her face and eyes red.

“I was.”

“I know”, his friend said, sweeter than he ever saw him, even when he was talking to Leo, lifting his hand to wipe her tears from her face. “I know you were. That’s what you do.”

David put the chamomile tea bag in Frank’s ‘Drama Queen’ mug he had gotten him as a birthday gif/joke, but then thought better of it and chose the plain one from the cabinet.

Karen thanked David when he came back with her tea, reaching her hand for the steaming mug, but Frank took it from his hand and gave it to her himself.

David shook his head, sitting back on the stool that didn’t allow him to move at all, to continue working on the feed of the particular traffic and security cameras they would need surveillance of from now on.

.:.

He was back in his chair when he finished the order for the cameras that Frank would install around Karen’s place. She had gotten up to use the shower, since her clothes were stained with blood, and David used this opportunity to claim his swivel chair back, almost sighing in relief when he wheeled back and forth to his monitors.

Frank had given her one of his shirts, and she was wearing one of Sarah’s leggings, from her gym bag that she had left on David’s car a few days back.

The place smelled heavily of Frank’s shampoo, the one he kept there. Since her hair was much, much longer than both of theirs, it wafted the scent as she walked around.

It was quiet, now. She took some time to calm down, but, eventually, the day caught up to her. And she must have believed Frank when he promised her that he would keep her safe, because she sat down on the couch by Frank’s wall of guns, where the light from David’s work station wasn’t so harsh, and, soon, fell asleep.

He could see from the corner of his eye as Frank looked down at her, her head resting on his leg, one of his hands on her hair while the other ran from her shoulder to her elbow over and over again.

“You want an alert in your phone in case someone breeches her security perimeter?” He asked, lowering his voice, not wanting to startle her.

Frank looked up at him, nodded, and then turned his focus back to her, as if he needed to literally watch her sleep to make sure she’s ok.

“You think it was luck, today?” He asked, even though he knew the answer already. “That she made it out ok?”

Frank’s hand made its way from her shoulder, down her arm, past her elbow and to her wrist, until he picked her hand up, carefully and slowly.

“It was a warning”, he said, and David knew him long enough to recognize the murder in his voice, even if he was speaking softly as not to wake her.

“What does Fisk want with her?”

Frank shook his head, still watching her as she slept.

“It’s something to do with Red. Daredevil. I don’t know the whole story yet.”

David wanted to ask if he thought Karen knew who Daredevil was, and, come to think of it, if Frank did, or if it maybe it had something to do with the fact that she used to work for the lawyers that put Fisk in prison, if it had something to do with Frank at all, but his questions would have to wait.

Looking over, he saw as Frank ran his knuckles over her cheek, and touched the hand he still held in his to his chest.

He looked both tortured and entranced. David felt as if he was intruding on a intimate moment, so he hurried to finish the code to link Karen’s building’s not-that-great alarm system to Frank’s phone, wishing to give them some privacy for a bit.

Before he opened his mouth to ask what kind of security kit he wanted for Karen’s apartment, he saw as his friend took the woman’s hand that was pressed against his chest, and lifted it to his mouth, placing a kiss that David knew exactly what it was about: relief.

It was the same kind of kiss he pressed to his children’s forehead once he was reunited with them, the exact same kiss he shared with Sarah when she saw he was alive and he saw she was unharmed.

A kiss only someone who feels deep, rooted and unselfish love is capable of.

He could almost feel the waves coming out of Frank’s body as he sat there with the woman that probably meant more to him than he even knew.

But David knew. He could see it, plain as day.

Finishing up as quickly as he could, he left the system running.

“You gonna crash here tonight?” He asked Frank, getting a nod in return. “Alright. Security’s up, we should be getting the kit for her place some time tomorrow. You need me to stay or…”

“No, go home. Sarah and the kids must be worried, you go.”

“Fine. But call me, though, if you need anything.”

“Yeah.”

Maybe it was a Marines thing, maybe it was just Frank, maybe it was that Karen was bone tired, but she didn’t even threaten to wake up as Frank picked her up from the couch to place her on the twin bed that came with the place, that they would take turns sleeping in when they needed to pull all nighters, here and there.

.:.

He was back in the bunker first thing in the morning, almost before the sun rose, since he had to go back home to drive the kids to school - it was his turn in the carpool chart.

It was rare, for him to catch Frank sleeping. That only happened when he was injured or dozed with something, and it has been a while, now, since someone managed to get the jump on him to drug him with anything.

When he punched in the code and opened the door, though, the place was still dark and quiet.

Walking carefully, he moved to peek at the living area where the bed sat.

There they were, fast asleep. Karen nestled between Frank and the wall the bed was settled against, both his arms around her, her face tucked under his neck. One of her arms rested over his middle, hand pointing towards the mattress.

Doing his best to make as little noise as possible, David made his way over to his computers, checking the feed from the night.

Quiet.

Scribbling a note to Frank, he silently made his way back out, after a quick stop to the kitchen, arming the alarm again.

Best to let them rest. God knows they need it.

.:.

Karen was still asleep when Frank walked to check the outside cameras, but he could tell she was about to wake up. Her sleep had been restless, and he had to plead for her to take a sleeping pill after she woke up gasping for the third time. She had clinged to his shirt the whole night.

It was quiet outside, and it has been the whole night. He did see the footage of Lieberman’s car driving in and off an hour ago, but he hadn’t stayed long.

Looking at the desk, the pad had a note on it. After reading it, Frank shook his head and walked to the kitchen, dismissing his friend’s attempt of a joke.

Funny guy.

“… .- .-. .- …. / … . -. - / -… .-…- -.- ..-. .- … - .-.-.- / -.. .. -.. -. - / .– .- -. - / - — / .– .- -.- . / -.– — ..- / .-.. — …- . / -… .. .-. -.. … .-.-.- / -.-. .- .-.. .-.. / – . / .– …. . -. / -.– — ..- .-. . / ..- .–.”

#kastle #kastle fic #kastle ff #kastle drabble #writing #Hell's kitchen Chronicles #prompt #Answered #princesshaleyeve

[briannasroger]

365 Days with Kastle ♥ nine (I did say this would include drabbles and writing. For the person who wanted soft/sleepy Kastle! ♥)

Karen and Frank’s nightly routine.

When she wakes to the movement on her fire escape, her fingers reach for the gun in her nightstand, but he says her name in that way of his, something soft and tender, so unlike the voice he uses with everyone else, and her hand stills. She retreats back into the warmth of her blankets and scoots a little further to one side of the bed, listening to him move across her apartment.

His coat finds it home on a hook next to her door; she hears the clunk of his guns as he settles them into an empty cabinet in the kitchen and the creak of it as it closes. A click as he locks the window attached to the fire escape, huffing to himself at the riskiness of it, as if she wasn’t leaving it open specifically for him.

His clothes land in a heap on the floor and he looks at her on his way to the bathroom, a fresh set of bruises on his chest and three shallow cuts on his face. It says a lot about them that she doesn’t rise from the bed after a second of scrutinizing him.

He nods and enters the bathroom when she smiles sleepily at him.

The shower runs. She doesn’t doze, unable to return to sleep when she knows in a few minutes he’ll be in her bed, and she wants to wait, and she wants to treasure those seconds of comfort before the morning comes.

There’s a rush of cold as he climbs into bed, but his arm latches around her waist and drags her back into the warmth of his chest. He presses a kiss her shoulder once before resting his head against her hair, his warm breath washing over her ear. She laughs at the sensation and she can feel his smile.

He doesn’t tell her about his night; he’ll tell her in the morning, over coffee and breakfast, and she thinks that he enjoys this. She pulls his hand up, kissing his knuckles gently, one over each bruise and small cut, and when she finishes, he tightens his grip around her.

They don’t speak; there’s no words necessary.

Their fingers tangle together and sleep settles over them.

#kastle #kastleff #karen page #frank castle #kastlenetwork #kastle drabble #otp please #365kastle

[writerbri-archive]

🖤

This is just a little snapshot at canon but sorta domestic kastle that popped in my head. I hope you like it, my love!

send me a 🖤 and i’ll write a kastle fic

Sometimes it was as easy as breathing. Sometimes it was like dragging her feet through thick, unyielding mud. No one ever said that being in love with the Punisher would be uncomplicated. But even when it was hard as hell, Karen wouldn’t have given it up for the world. Especially in the quiet, soft moments like this.

Their legs entangled on the bed in the dim evening light that filtered through the window, his shirt discarded on the ground, her curled into his side with steady fingers tracing over smooth skin and mottled scars. He saw his body as a war zone. A weapon. Some deadly thing to be wielded against those who deserved it most. Karen simply saw a kindred soul and a wounded heart.

He held a book in his right hand, his eyes scanning the pages as the fingers of his other hand stroked through her hair. A murmur of apology passed his lips when he caught on a tangle and tugged without meaning but she simply lifted her hand, loosely entwining her fingers with his and turning her face to press a kiss to his palm.

Her eyes traced over his calloused, weathered hand, catching on the silvery scars that decorated his knuckles and his bluntly clipped nails. Then she fixed on his third finger, her mind going straight to a woman she’d seen only in a picture, a bright smile on her face and life shining in her eyes. Maria wasn’t a ghost for her, not like she was for Frank. But she was still a presence. There was no use in denying that.

Karen brushed her thumb over the empty space of that finger, her head turning and her eyes settling on Frank. It didn’t take long for his mouth to twitch and his eyes to move away from the book, their dark depths fixing on her. One eyebrow rose questioningly, his thumb pressing between the pages of the book to keep his place as he flipped it closed.

“What?” he said, narrowing his eyes slightly.

She hesitated, sinking her teeth into her lip hesitantly. His head tilted to the side, his eyes telling her to just get out with it already.

“What happened to your ring?” Karen asked, a wince building in her as she knew she definitely could have asked that more gracefully.

Frank’s eyes darted to his hand and back to her, a small line forming between his eyebrows as his questioning look turned to a frown.

“I, uh…” he trailed off, clearing his throat and setting his book on the bed. “I don’t know. Woke up without it at the hospital after the…”

He didn’t finish the thought, shrugging one shoulder.

“Never got it back.”

Karen felt a surge of anger on his behalf, threading her fingers through his and squeezing lightly. She’d never stop hating the people who put him through this, even though all that they’d been through put them right here in this moment. Turning more fully towards him, she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and touched her forehead to his.

There was nothing more to say. No amount of “I’m sorry’s” that would make the pain go away. So she just laid there pressed flush to his side, her own wounded heart aching for him. His arm slid around her waist and hauled her in even closer. They breathed as one, their inhales and exhales matching perfectly and intentionally.

It wasn’t always easy.

But it was always worth it.

#kastle #kastle drabble #kastle fanfiction #karen x frank #frank x karen #my writing #drabble #frankcastle

[ninzied]

writer’s block

She hadn’t written in days-turned-to-weeks, and it was one missed deadline—two—three—before Karen thought to open her laptop again. Her catching up on some much-needed rest hardly meant that the city’s despicable deserved the same.

Her fingers were poised on the keys just as Frank emerged from his shower, back glistening, his towel slung low. His mouth crooking when their eyes met, both of them caught mid-stare at each other—

And the city’s criminals would have to go unpunished for another night, she thought as he drew closer, pulling her out of her chair and into his arms for a kiss.

#kastle #kastle ff #kastlenetwork #kastle drabbles #to my fellow fic writers out there #may we all have our own frank to blame

[imashybear]

The opportunities we don’t miss

He feels the regret before his lips even touch her, but he ignores it. He expected it. It’s the same ruddy-eared, dry-mouthed regret that colors an action and tries to change it before it’s even happened, like what kids feel right before slipping their first note into a locker. An archaic warning bell sounded by neural fire, it’s the mind’s one attempt to keep you from looking like an idiot. But by the time you register the feeling it’s too late anyways, the moment is here, pressing against the tender place at the front of your skull. It’s like thinking you had another step to take before realizing you’re already at the landing. You hang in mid-air and for a wild second you wonder how you missed the gaping hole that you’re clearly about to fall into.

He feels her skin beneath his, warm and wind-burned, searing for less than a second before he pulls away. There it is. He can’t bring himself to look at her just yet, but he can’t bring himself to feel guilty, either. He’s a man who accomplishes what he sets out to do and what he wanted right then, more than one more serrated conversation that would just leave them both bloodier, was to show her what she felt like to him. Cagey and punch drunk as a kid, with a bird beating itself to death in the hollow beneath his ribs. She rips him apart and lights fires behind his eyes and in this life, he knows, you don’t just walk away from people like that. You hold on to them. You use two hands. You don’t let go, even if it burns. Especially if it burns. He knows she believes in that, if in nothing else of him, or she wouldn’t be here too.

He doesn’t feel the action, but he must’ve tongued his lips because he can taste her tears. Bittersweet and sharp, kind of like her on a shit day. Karen.

She spends her life focusing on words; stitching her sentences together with enough care that her fingers are always pricked and bloody. Him, shit, he’d never been one for eloquence, but she knew that already. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t seem surprised by it. Maybe that’s why she lets him do it. She knows it’s all he can say anymore, and they both know there may be much more eloquence in that than in all of the unspoken words still left between them. He can look at her again with the same ask (the smoldering remains of what was, for one shit-headed second, a demand) that has been on his eyes and in his mouth for the past hour. But he knows by the firm set of her chin that none of those words are sitting on her tongue right now. Her tear tracks spell the message clearly on her face – that they’re done here. It’s time for him to go. He pulls his feet from their weights and walks away from her, straight into the coldest wind he’s felt in years.

#it's 1am and i just wrote a thing that i actually rly like #kastle drabble #fanfictag #kastle #the punisher

[kanerallels]

Heck. I reached my word count for the day, but I'm actually kinda vibing with the idea of continuing with this project for a while. Someone tell me whether I should keep going with this one or start working on another

#i have some fan fic i'd like to work on #especially my christmas drabbles #(and this kastle fic) #(ssssh you didn't hear that) #but also i'm getting some good and fun work done #hazel rambles about her original writing #also no one ask me what my daily word count is it's super embarrassingly low #(i don't really care if you ask)

[lightofpage]

These moments remind her how she can’t hold him to herself. How the beating thing clasped so tightly between her palms is her own heart and not his. The only thing keeping him here is righteous anger and honest loyalty, but she’s a fool to think that she could ever hold together something that broken.

She should know better.

They are two sides to the same coin. Truth and justice-that’s all she’s ever wanted and to hold back…to do nothing would feel just as wrong as had she never helped him in the first place.

She tries to remind him. Tries to remind him that her safety is not and should not be the thing stopping her…them…from the hunt. Her blood has already been shed for this cause.

He doesn’t need her to remind him. It’s a truth, one of many, that leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

You were never in any danger.

It’s been a long time since he spoke those words in the hospital room. It had been his most vulnerable moment since he rose from the grave. But they were the first words that he felt compelled to speak when she stepped into the room.

And here they were now.

The point is you were safe, ok?

He still can’t bear the thought of her thinking less of him and he hated himself for it. It made him accountable to something and someone other than the memory of his family. And that felt like a betrayal.

His voice breaks along with another piece of his fraying resolve and the torched electrical pathways in his brain misfire and he’s taken back to that haunting night in the woods. Another night of truth and betrayal. Of saying more (and less) than he ever meant to say.

His voice broke and he remembered the anger in her eyes.

But he can’t see that in them now, she’s avoiding his gaze and somehow that hurts more.

He needs her to know and if she hates him for it, that’s ok. He can live with that, he’s used to being the bad guy.  

And as he breaks, she breaks with him. The anger softens, just for a moment, and he sees an understanding pass over her, but she still grits her teeth.

Deep down he knows he’s fucked.

She’s as unwavering and relentless as he is. The head and the heart at war.

And he knows that he’s going to eat his previous words.

“I can’t go after these men and keep you safe. I can’t do both at once.”

Well, he’s going to damn well try.

#God I am rusty AS FUCK. #but I couldn't sleep #and I've missed writing. #this is literally the first thing I've written in ....at least 6 months. Probs more #anyhoo #i love them and the process of trying to get in their head and that scene HAUNTS ME #kastle #kastle drabble #it's a stretch to call it a fic butwhatever #kastle fic #kastle ff

[benedictsvestcollection]

What if... Karen gets a new haircut? Like it isn't even a major length haircut but Frank notices when no one else does?

@evilsquirrel18

WTF THIS IS SO CUTE? 

Karen was used to Frank being at her place when she got home. But she got home later than normal one evening. 

Stopping at a salon that Trish had got her an appointment at. Some fancy place that gave you a scalp massage with your haircut. Trish had insisted that she needed to relax. So she went after work and left feeling refreshed. 

She didn’t change it up too much, just a trim and some layers. She finally got home and as expected, Frank was sitting on her couch, drinking her coffee and looking at files. Max laid at his feet until he heard Karen get home and ran to greet her with a bark. 

“Hey boy.” She greeted him with a smile and rubbed his ears affectionately. “Hi Frank.” She greeted him, with a grunt in return to her. She tucked her hair behind her ear and slipped out of her heels as she tried not to trip over Max in the process who was now glued to her side excitedly. 

“Hey c’mon now, give her some room.” Frank scolded the dog and was over at her side to tug Max away from Karen so she could actually get out of her hallway. “Sorry ma’am. He always gets excited to see you.” He muttered out and looked at her finally. 

He noticed it almost immediately. Staring at her golden locks for several moments before meeting her blue eyes. 

“It’s okay. You know I love him.” She promised him with a smile as she straightened up and went to her kitchen and made herself a cup of coffee. He went back to the couch. “This fresh?” She asked him. “Yup. ‘Bout fifteen minutes ago.” 

“Great.” Karen pulled her mug down and filled it for herself. Fully aware of Frank’s intense gaze on her back before turning to meet it. When had he joined her in the kitchen? He was so close to her. Her kitchen wasn’t that big after all. 

A silence fills the void. 

“What?” She finally asks him, eyes still on his. His are looking somewhere else, but still on her. He sips his coffee and tears his gaze from her for several moments until his fingers find her hair briefly. 

“I like your haircut.” He finally returned and smirks a bit before dropping his fingers, letting them drag down her arm a bit before pulling away. His fingers leaving a shiver on her skin in his wake. 

Karen’s blushes and watches Frank go back to the couch. Her own fingers moving to play with her hair. “Thanks.” She murmured back to him. 

#evilsquirrel18 #asks #Kastle #Kastle prompt #Kastle drabble #my writing

[darlingshane]

7 Days of Kastle

Day 4: His Keeper

Pairing: Frank Castle/Karen Page

Content: Angst.

Warnings: Frank’s in a coma.

Word Count: 780

Summary: Karen guards Frank while he’s in a coma.

Prompts: Fragile (from the free prompts list)

Karen refuses to leave Frank's side while he's in a coma. She settles for sleeping on a cot they've set up for her in the corner. There aren’t comfortable couches or chairs in this off-the-grid location as someone would find in a semi decent hospital. This is just a room with a bed, a window, and a little bathroom, and that's enough. The only thing that matters is that he has the best care possible.

He was helping Dinah when he took a really bad beating, and that’s putting it lightly. He’s survived worse things than this, maybe this is just his body telling him that he’s not immortal, and this way of living is just catching up with him.

He’s not going to die, he can't, Karen thinks, he’s too damn stubborn to do so. Even so, she looks at the fragility of his body, how badly banged up it is, and how small he looks in that bed and she can’t help but sob.

She’s lost too many people and can’t have him die, not yet, she won’t. They were just getting started, he’d found some resemblance of peace living with her in the past few months and she was just getting used to having him that close all the time. He was there every morning when she woke up and every night when she went to bed. There are now many weekends in her memory that made up for every time he’s left. He’d hold her hand unexpectedly, search for her kiss, longed for her skin more often than not, and now all that might go with him.

Time seems to freeze in this place. Everyday is a repetition of the previous one, but at least he’s not getting worse. It's a challenge to keep her mind occupied with reading or anything else but she tries. There are long empty hallways that she paces two or three times a day to stay active. The few times she’s away from him is when she goes to the cafeteria for lunchtime. Most of the time she just watches over Frank, soundly asleep as the parade of doctors and nurses come in and out to check on him several times a day. She often helps one of the nurses wash his body until she starts doing it alone with care and love, hoping he knows she’s there with him, always. God, he'd hate all of this if he knew. He'd say he doesn't wanna be a burden to anyone, but especially to her.

Sleep doesn't come easy. She’s set her mind on being his keeper. It's like being awake during a flight so you can root or pray for the plane not to crash. As long as her eyes are on him, he can't die on her watch.

Karen drags the cot closer to the bed and sits there for hours just holding his hand. Sometimes she talks to him without even realizing. He has some reflexes, his fingers would twitch once in a while when she does. They tell her it's not uncommon for someone in his state but she needs to believe he’s hearing her somehow, that he’s responding to her voice.

There's one particular night that she loses her shit, going into a full meltdown, wondering if Frank is still there. If he's feeling anything at all.

Her whole body shakes, including her watery voice telling him that it is okay if he wants to check out, that he doesn't have to protect her anymore. That if there's a beyond and by some chance happens to find Maria and the kids, he should run to them. No matter how much she’d miss him, he deserves peace and love, and not this; he wouldn't want to live tied to machines.

She cries herself to sleep, attached to his hand, hiding her face in the crook of her arm. And the next morning, as she gradually awakens, she feels his hand squeezing her fingers ever so slightly, just for a second.

“Come back to me, Frank.” Karen brings the back of his palm to her lips, wishing him good morning.

A few more days pass by and he remains stable, with noticeable improvements. The bruising has mostly faded, but most importantly his lungs are quickly recovering, it’s the head trauma that’s most worrying right now.

The constant beeping is something she’s grown used to, it doesn’t bother her anymore. It's peaceful to hear Frank’s heart beat so steady. It’s when it suddenly changes what startles her...

It races as his hand clenches around hers like it’s never done before.

She looks at Frank and suddenly– his eyes are open.

A/N:  This is part of a drabble collection that I wrote for @daredevilexchange​'s Fan Week  featuring different alternate universes and situations with Frank and  Karen that I've always wanted to write. I'll be posting one a day until  January 9 :)

#daredevilexchange #frank castle x karen page #kastle #kastle fanfic #frank castle #karen page #the punisher fanfiction #fanfiction #darlingwrites #7 days of kastle #drabble #this one is such a downer #next one is way different #i promise #jon bernthal #deborah ann woll

[edourado]

Oh man, these prompts *are* perfect. Kastle + 20 (on a scar, as, come on)and klaroline + 26 (as an apology) - but this one is also totally kastle, I won't drag you back into klaroline hell with me !

I wrote this on my phone. So, you should feel pretty important. I loathe writing on my phone. 

As for the klaroline one. I am officially tempted. Never wrote for them. It’s been a minute since I actually watched either show. Might be fun, might be a disaster. Perhaps I’ll have something by tomorrow? NO PROMISES, THOUGH!

Boy oh boy. I woke up to six new inbox messages, 13 prompts total. You guys. You keep making the mistake of trusting me and I love you for it. I will make a freaking effort to write your stuff. 

Now, @ejunkiet. For you, my sweet. Hope you like it. 

How to save a life

For the first time in a long, long time, Frank found himself defenseless.

There was no excuse. No urgent matter he needed to turn his focus to. No crisis he needed to look at. No reason for him to leave, turn his eyes away from her, get away from her presence and the effects it had on him.

There was nowhere he needed to be but right there.

He sat on her living room floor with her, the one source of light being her open window, drinking wine that he would, on any other day, deem too sweet for his taste, but it was good tonight.

And they were, of course, arguing.

Not seriously, without any heat or resentment, just… Out of habit, maybe.

He had been explaining what had happened after the hotel bombing, she was, for some reason, saying that he needed to stop throwing himself in front of bullets, as if she didn’t know that he would take every last bullet in the world if it meant they would not reach her.

“Bullets don’t even hurt that much anymore”, he joked, setting his wine glass down on the floor, leaning back against the wall. “It’s the bomb shrapnels that sting the most”.

She made a face that was half worried, half amused, and shook her head, looking at him that way that made time stand still, stretched seconds into hours, made him feel something he barely recognized anymore.

With eyes full of tears that startled him, she scooted closet and got a hold of his right wrist, lifting his sleeve, forcing it up, exposing his forearm, bunching the fabric past his elbow, up up until she saw it, the angry patch of badly healed skin, the scar that the piece of metal had left behind, the stitches from David a statement of efficiency, not technique.

He watched as she ran the tip of her fingers over it, big eyes focused on the scar that deep, open wound had left behind.

Frank lifted his left hand to turn her face away from it at the same time she bent towards it.

The feel of her lips over the rough skin was the most pleasant of shocks.

Suddenly, he felt his strength leaving him, as if evaporating at that simple, intimate touch, leaving him vulnerable and pliant, defenseless.

Willing.

She moved her lips from one end of the mark to the other, as if trying to kiss it away, and he almost believed the skin would be unblemished when she lifted her face from his arm.

A tear ran down her cheek and he reached up to wipe it away, moving forward towards her, and then there they were again, so close, alone, silence surrounding them. His forehead against hers and tears caught in her throat.

But, now, they had time.

He touched her face and caught that tear on his thumb. She moved and he moved along with her, searching, surrendering, at once, closing his eyes, feeling her hands on his face and her lips on his temple.

Another scar, the bullet that had not been meant for her, but she didn’t know that yet.

One kiss, two, three, and a sniffle.

“Stop saving my life” whispered in his ear, and he smiled, weaving his hand into her hair, guiding her face back to his, her own hand losing its grip on his head and sliding down, around his neck, draping on his shoulder.

“No”, and the salt of tears on his lips, the beating of his heart pulsing, echoing in the dark apartment, in his mind, his soul, the weight of her over him, a breath.

Absolution.

#kastle #kastle fic #kastle ff #kastle drabble #kastlelibrary #drabble #Frank Castle & Karen Page #answered #prompt #am I actually writing? #sounds fake but ok #Hell's kitchen Chronicles