Summary: Meeting him was planned, calculated, and meant to happen. However, she wasn't supposed to fall in love with someone she was sent to murder.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: 18+ readers, angst, blood, violence, mentions of death, swearing, smutt
Authors note: OMG!!! I seriously wasn't expecting this to blow up like it did. Thank you all so much for taking the time to read my first fic!! I'm currently accepting requests....so fill my inbox with all the dirty thoughts;))
AI is not used at all in this story; simply just my sadistic mind.
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
Time froze achingly slow as the words echoed throughout your psyche; rendering you motionless. Frank's room became the embodiment of deceit; the air hardening into a bitter chill. Tension thick enough to cut. The dissonant question hung in the air cautiously and impatiently awaiting an answer.
Frank's body decorated with the speckles of light from the hallway as he grounded himself into the floor, arms tucked tightly across his chest. Jaw tensing as harsh and ragged breathes escaped his lips. His eyes darkening as he searched your face for any insinuations. Any evidence that he's in a deep slumber while his mind plays cruel tricks. Any confirmation that the man inhabiting his apartment goes unbeknownst to you. The color draining from your skin as if you slowly faded away told him everything.
Your lungs burned as they desperately sought out oxygen; your lucidness focused on the seething man and not your biological mechanisms. A near thought refused to form; your mouth ran dry as you attempted to utter out nonsense. Opening and closing like a fish out of water. Frank grew angrier. His hands flew up into the air as he let out a scoff; filled with angst and confusion.
"You're not gonna say anything," he challenged while you remained frozen.
"I-...I don't know what to say," you admitted, voice growing quiet, dropping your head to stare at your feet, seemingly more interested at how the tiles on the floor resembled life. Worn down with exhaustion from carrying the weight of others around. His stature capturing rage and welcoming it like an old friend.
"I want you to answer the damn question," Frank roared as he snatched your arm dragging you towards the culprit. His grip on you burned; indentation and crimson wrapping around his fingers as he swiftly guided you down the stairs.
"Frank let me go," you sobbed out as your attempt to free yourself failed. Frank ignored your pleads as his strength tightened around your arm. Sure enough in the morning blue and purple bruising would take its place.
This was no longer the Frank you recognized; the Punisher being embraced as wrath and paroxysm secured their disposition. You couldn't decipher the thoughts racing through his head. Why was his ex-soldier comrade turned nemesis requesting you? Who did he open his home to?
Tripping slightly over the last step as Billy's appearance flooded your vision. He was perched against the wooden door frame with a smug grin lining his face. His hair precisely held back by mounds of gel. His body covered in a white button down and black slacks; professional attire as he blew up your future endeavors.
Body buzzing with fear as you presumed what would be your final moments; whether it was at the hands of Frank or Billy.
"Ah there's my Princess," Billy said clapping his hands together as his grin widened. You grimaced at his attempt to an endearing name.
"Don't call me that," you spit out quietly, Franks grasp loosening before adapting to his earlier stance. Arms crossed with a discerning mug on his face.
"Hmm...thought you wanted me here since ya stopped answering my calls."
"I did it for a reason....I wanted you to leave me alone," you clarified suddenly gaining your voice back as anger bubbled in your chest. Threatening to explode any moment like a homicidal bomb.
"What? So you could play house instead of doing your job," Billy questioned, gaining Frank's attention further. Frank's eyebrows furrowed glancing in your direction.
"(Y/N) what job," the question hung in the air. The tension being palpable. One wrong move. One miscommunication. Shots would be fired in all directions. No one was safe.
"Go on...tell him," Billy smiled menacingly as he gestured towards Frank. Egging you on like he took pride in your dishevelment. That the tears threatening to spill brought him joy. That the assassin who the government praised for her bravery and sharpness could be demolished by the concept of losing Frank Castle.
Minutes passed as silenced spread between the three of you. The idea of admitting your faults to Frank churned your gut. Having to signify that the evil miscreants his spent countless gory nights hunting resided in his own home made you want to vomit. Because truth is, Frank became your most prized possession. It was as if he was placed into your life as a reminder that you deserved life. He was the calmness in your storm. He was your purpose. Your escape from the shitty reality you were used to. You were willing to escape from your former career and create a new destiny with him. Losing him would justify the notion that you're nothing more than a killing machine and they absolutely terrified you.
"Don't get all quiet on me now baby," Billy sickly joked as he sauntered over to Frank. Placing an arm loosely around his should as if they were long lost friends. Earning a grumble from Frank as he forcefully shoved Billy into the neighboring wall. Cracking under the force with a rumble. Frank's forearm dug into Billy's neck, air struggling to enter.
"She was sent to kill you Frank," Billy rasped out with the little oxygen he carried.
The blow hit hard. Frank's fist connecting swiftly with the side of Billy's skull. The cracking of bones echoed as Frank went to throw another. All of the anger. All of the confusion. Every emotion that swirled inside Frank was ripping away at the seams. Little by little, piece by piece, Frank relinquished decades of grief onto Billy. His face becoming more unrecognizable under each blow.
"Frank stop," you screamed sprinting over as your shaking hands gripped his shoulders. Heels angrily digging into the tiles as your hands gripped Frank's arms that continued to swing.
"Is it true," he asked tossing Billy to the ground as he landed with a thump. Unconscious as crimson leaked from the gashes created.
Frank turned his attention towards you as specks of blood splattered across his face like freckles. Adding to the rugged nature of his wellbeing.
"I asked if it-," he started before you disrupted his words.
"Yes."
Dumbfounded. Hurt. Confusion. Disbelief.
Each emotions taking turns presenting themselves as Frank watched you. The woman who accepted his faults and created a garden out of misery. The woman who captured his heart unwillingly and swept him off his feet. All of it was a facade; at least that's what Frank presumed.
His shoulders hung as if the weight of the world was placed onto him once more. Frank felt his heart physically breaking. It was as if he lost his family once more.
"But that was before," (Y/N) exclaimed as you choked out a sob.
"Before I knew the truth. The truth about your family. The truth about who I was working for. I was blinded by the idea of power. Frank, I could never hurt you," your body shook rapidly as your eye stared holes into Frank. Any glimmer of hope being washed away as he stared at the speckled wall behind you.
Your feet carried you towards him, guilt and sorrow following behind. Placing your palm against his rugged chest, feeling his heart thump rapidly underneath. For a brief moment his muscles released built up tension; softening to mush before he pulled the armor back on.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"And say what? I'm here to kill you, but don't worry your corny dad jokes and love for jam completely changed my mind," a soft chuckle was let out as his eyes softened. A child like grin replaced the fearful frown you once wore. Hopefulness being replenished as if it was never truly lost. You could listen to his laugh forever, never growing exhausted.
"You're insane y'know that? Utterly fucking insane," he rasped placing his much larger hand on yours. Butterflies dancing in the pit of your stomach from the contact. Your eyes twinkled as they fully peered up at the man who engraved himself into your soul. Toes balancing as you reached and placed a soft kiss to the tip of his nose; careful enough to not scare him away.
"Does this mean you forgive me?"
"Don't push it," Frank muttered half jokingly as he shoveled through the mess in his brain. Not fully trusting himself with you present. But fear racing through his veins at the idea of you disappearing from his life. His subconscious screaming to push you away, run as far as he can, or worse....end her before she has the chance. The crude thoughts being buried as he pulled you closer, your scent engulfing him. Enticing him to listen to his heart for once.
"What about him," you asked nodding over to Billy who still displayed unconscious on the hard living room floor. Body willing to give out at any moment from the harsh beating. Frank shrugged his shoulders with ignorance as he spoke, "I'll deal with it in the morning."
You nodded your head in silent understanding, not wanting to allow Billy Russo to poison anything more. His reign finally falling to an end without dragging you and Frank down with him.
"I love you, Frank," the words echoing in the peace ridden air. Finally catching your breath as you come back down the Earth.
He let out a joyful sigh as he ran his hands over your body, memorizing the path slowly.
"Yeah....love you too sweets."
Love can be deceitful. Love can be hurtful. It can ruin lives while building others. Breaking people down into their rawest forms and transforming them into something stronger. That's the infatuation you and Frank shared. A breathtakingly soul bonded compassion that left you both at the mercy of one another. Frank Castle was destined to be a mere name crossed off a list; until falling for him surrendered every custom you lived by.
The fact that I have to be at work instead of spending my day reading smutty frank fics while giggling and kicking my feet pisses me off at least once a day
(Frank Castle x Reader)
summary: Meeting him was planned, calculated, and meant to happen. However, she wasn't supposed to fall in love with someone she was sent to murder...
TRIGGER WARNINGS: 18+ readers, angst, blood, violence, mentions of death, swearing, smutt
Author's note: This chapter was DEFINITELY my fav to write....for obvious reasons. Also....Billy Russo freaking sucks...ENJOY:)
Part One Part Two Part Four
The idea of Frank Castle used to enrage you. Filling your body with malaise and pure disgust at the near mention of his name. You used to contemplate all of the gruesome ways his demise would come to an end at the result of your own hands. Fill the apartment with carbon monoxide and stand by as he struggles to take his last breath? Tie him to a chair while you drag a knife down his exposed skin until he begs for salvation? You've even considered using his deceased family against him, spilling heinous disputes at him, showing the crime scene photos of his wife and children as they're sprawled out on the floor surrounded by puddles of carmine.
You couldn't fathom executing your heinous ideas or let alone think about them anymore. Especially not when Frank emotionally collapsed in front of you a few nights ago describing the demise of not only his family, but the embodiment of the man he once was. A man who was once filled with honesty and reverence now converted into a shell engulfed with misery.
You purposefully ignored the calls from Billy over the last couple of days. Not wanting to conjure up yet another fabrication as to why you were still in the city and Frank's heart was still beating. Another reason being that you forbade to operate under officials that discriminated against your own moral well-being. You believed in fighting against evil, not becoming it. You started off with executing miscreants that took part in trafficking not innocent men who the government wanted to rid of due to their own wicked offenses. You strayed from what this line of work originally meant for you and it was your responsibility to amend the broken pieces.
Your disregards didn't stop Billy though, per usual. What went from ongoing calls eventually lead to millions of texts spamming your phone.
Billy Russo: Why aren't you picking up your phone?
Billy Russo: Hello???
Billy Russo: (Y/N) answer
Billy Russo: If you don't answer by tonight I'm coming there myself
You threw your phone across the room before reading the last message, annoyed with his constant begging. So there you laid across the couch with a blanket lazily thrown across you as the tv played softly in the background. The sun shined through the curtains casting a natural glow as you pondered about your next steps. You've been in that same position all morning. Even when Frank waltzed in earlier this morning and expressed his determination to take on the task of grocery shopping to rid you of the chore for once. You lacked the motivation to do anything besides embedding your body further into the couch wishing it would swallow you whole.
"Are you okay," Frank questioned as he walked through the front door with various brown paper bags tucked in his grasp. He slowly sat them on the floor, cursing when a jar of grape jelly fell out and crashed to the ground, pieces of glass scattering.
"That shit was four dollars," he grumbled tossing his keys on the living room table before sauntering away to the kitchen for rags and a broom.
You let out an exasperated sigh as you aggressively sat up while running your fingers through your hair.
"Ah so she does move," Frank joked appearing back into the living room with the cleaning supplies in his hand.
"Not everyone can be as energized as you in the morning Frank. Some people actually enjoy being complacent," you grumbled as you watched him sweep the last bit of glass up with the broom.
"Y'know it's free to be nice," he stated loudly making his way to toss the remnants of the four dollar jelly he splurged on.
You let out a scoff and smile,"It's free to be a raging bitch too Castle."
A chuckle was heard from the kitchen.
"You attract more bees with honey than vinegar," he called out as bottles were heard clanking. Probably grabbing a beer to help him prepare for wherever this was leading to.
"Enough with the old man crap Frank," you laughed out following the clatter in the kitchen.
Frank stood there with a crisp brown bottle in his hand while the other cracked opened eggs into a small bowl. A pan laid on the stove with butter beginning to melt.
"Ain't nothing about me old sweets," he said with his attention remaining on his current task.
Another scoff left your lips as you perched yourself up on the counter, legs dangling back and forth like a child.
"Says the one who complained last night about his knees hurting. I don't know Frankie sounds pretty old to me."
He glanced over at you with a boyish grin, shaking his head at your age offensive jokes.
"Cause I was sittin' too long watching whatever shitty cooking show you demanded we watched," he declared while taking another swig of his beer and flipping the eggs.
"That's such a lie," you laughed out, "Just admit it Frank...you're getting up there in age."
"I aint admitting jack shit."
Another loud laugh escaped past your lips. It was moments like these that reminded you of your longing for a home. Laughing with Frank in the kitchen while you both playfully bantered over minuscule issues. Both refusing to admit loss and allow the other to feign a win. Or the nights where you both would sit at opposite ends of the couch, eventually gravitating towards one another like magnets. Your head would lazily rest on Franks shoulder while he draped an arm around you. You longed for something like this. It was as if Frank was your missing key all along. The one to pull you out of the darkness and show you the brighter aspects of life. Unbeknownst to your knowledge, Frank shared similar infatuation.
"Food's ready," he called out bringing you back to reality.
You followed him as he carried both of your plates to the living room table. Clinking against the wood as he placed them. Both of you sitting in your respective placements.
"You need to get a dining room table," you expressed as you shoveled the eggs into your mouth.
"Yeah when I have the money," Frank responded muffled as he chewed the food.
"Yet...you bought a jar of jelly for four dollars,' you questioned as you peered over at him.
"It's the good stuff," he excused shrugging his shoulders before continuing. "Besides what can I do with a dining room table that I can't with this one?"
"Me," you smugly admitted catching Frank off guard. He choked on the food residing in his mouth before swallowing with a gulp.
Without another word Frank stood up and frantically picked you up. Breakfast long forgotten as he had another meal waiting for him. He threw you over his shoulder giving your ass a small slap while you begged him through laughs to put you down.
He climbed up the steps skipping some in between as he raced to his bedroom. Not wanting you to take back your sudden admission. You felt him shove open the door and kick it close with a grunt. Suddenly the air shifted in the room as Frank laid you down softly on his mattress. The bed rippling at the sudden weight. You felt heat spread across your cheeks as you watched Frank. Becoming very aware of what's about to happen.
His toned chest coming into full display as he shredded off his shirt. This man was built. His muscles subconsciously tense and then ease from the sudden change of temperature. Scars from his nightly adventures littered across his top half with a fresh bullet wound that you helped patched up the previous night located just above his shoulder. He was gorgeous. And could definitely ruin you if you let him.
Your eyes wandered down further as his lower half was still encapsulated by the gray sweats he put on earlier. A tightness forming around his mid half with a growing bulge. You gulped at the appearance. Clearly the man had zero issues with sizing.
"You ready," Frank asked with a shit eating grin plastered on his face.
"For what?"
"For me to fuck you until you can't remember anything else, but my name."
A quiet moan left your lips as you nodded your head, completely forgetting how to speak. Frank slid off his gray sweatpants before climbing onto the bed and nestling his body between your thighs. One hand rested next to your head, holding himself up, while the other grasped your chin. You let out a nervous breath as Frank leaned down to graze his lips against yours. Testing. Waiting to see if you were going to back out.
When another quiet moan laced with desperation left your mouth, Franks came smashing back down. This wasn't a gentle kiss. It wasn't filled with love or kindness. It was raw and hungry filled with need. The need to taste you. The need to feel you. The need to attack your mind, body and soul, filling it with him.
You kissed him back with the same urgency. Teeth clashing and straight up messy as your mouths fought for dominance. Moans were stringing out from the both of you. You couldn't focus on anything else besides the heat pooling in your stomach and damping your underwear. You wanted Frank to feel everywhere.
"You're so damn beautiful," Frank sighed breathlessly pulling away as he tugged on the bottom of your shirt. He helped you sit up slightly as the piece of clothing slid off with ease being discarded behind him. He groaned as his eye raked over your completely bare chest. Nipples beginning to pebble at the loss of warmth.
Frank leaned down and softly kissed each one eliciting a moan from you. "Frank, please," you groaned out as you grinded your hips against his leg, begging for any sort of contact.
"Patience sweets...lemme enjoy you," he whispered mostly to himself as he brought himself back to your lips, kissing them sweetly before peppering kisses and love bites across your jaw and down your neck. He took a deep breath in flooding his senses with your smell.
"God do you know how bad I've wanted this? Wanting to bend you over the counter when I get home and see you cooking. Filling that pretty mouth of yours when you joke about me bein' old," he admitted as he continued his travels down your navel, leaving purpling marks wherever he kissed.
Frank was going torturously slow. Your body burned for him to do more. Every nerve being lit on fire as he touched and kissed you. Worshipping your body as if it's the only thing left on this world.
Frank stopped as he reached your shorts. Noticing the already dampening material. He palmed himself and he thought of the mess waiting for him underneath. A groan left his mouth as he slowly pulled your shorts and underwear down, savoring the moment.
"Fuck- looks like you've been wanting it just as bad. You're soaking sweets," he whistled out as he traced a finger down your glistening slit gathering the mess and bringing it to his mouth to lick it clean. You moaned as Frank did the most dangerous and dirty actions. Completely engraving himself into your entire being.
"Frank," you rasped out as your mind felt dizzy, drunk off of him.
"Yeah?"
"Fuck me...please...need you."
Franks lips came crashing back down to yours as he slid down his boxers, cock springing free, tapping the bottom of his stomach lightly. He lined himself up to your entrance before slowly inching in.
Your jaw went slack at the sudden stretch. It hurt and burned, but in the best way possible. Your eyes snapped closed at the fullness, arms wrapping around Frank as you dug present shaped imprints in his skin. He hissed and groaned as he rocked his hips before bottoming out. You both let out a pornographic moan at the euphoric feelings.
Chest to chest, bodies engulfing one another, the smell of sweat and pure need filling the room.
"You good," Frank asked absentmindedly. Too focused on the feeling of you tightly wrapped around him, but still wanting to make sure you were safe. He felt you nod slightly against him, moans threatening to spill out.
"Eyes on me sweets," he demanded as he began to thrust in and out. Your eyes widened as your body arched allowing for a deeper angle. You looked into Franks eyes, darkened with lust. His jaw tense, afraid if he went any harder he would surely crack a few teeth. Your body felt like it was electrocuted. Every touch. Every smell. Every word. Being blocked out by Frank fucking you like his life depended on it.
Suddenly a wave of warmness began to pool in your stomach. As if Frank could sense the change he picked up speed as he shifted and lifted your hips. The new angle quickening the release. Your body buzzed with electricity. A string of high pitched moans escaping one after another. The sense to breathe being long forgotten.
"Frank...Frank I'm gonna-" you started as Frank interrupted, sweat beads rolling down his face.
"I know...Fuck me too," he admitted as his thrusts began to grow sloppy.
"Come on sweets, lemme feel it." Without a second to miss your body exploded. Your back arching off the mattress as your legs trembled and your mess trickled down yours and Franks legs. He followed right behind with a tightening grip on your hips and a deep thrust before pulling out to release on your lower stomach. You gasping at the sudden loss of contact.
Before any words could be exchanged, Frank left the room and came back with a wet towel. Mumbling under his breathe about cleaning you up. It was sweet how Frank cared for you. Never complaining about it, but simply doing it because he wanted to. It's something you learned to never take for granted.
You slowly felt your eyes grow heavier as you faded in and out of consciousness. The expendable activity forcing out any strength you had left in you. Sleep took over as you felt a shift of weight next to you. Frank slid his arms around you as you just barely heard him grumbling something about napping is for the weak.
A loud crash woke you up from your slumber. Anxiety and delirium coinciding within you as you glanced around frantically. The room was pitch black beside the small peak of light from under the door. You looked around the room for any sign of Frank. The bed was empty. His clothes that were littered in a pile hours before, gone. Why would he leave without saying anything?
Before you could process anything more, another crash along with the sound of heavy boots stomping up the stairs caught your attention.
"(Y/n)," Frank roared seething with anger as he shoved open the bedroom door. His breathing was heavy and quick as he glared at you. His jaw tense as his fist clenched, trying to hold back everything he wanted to scream.
You looked at him scared and confused as to what caused him to have such a profound reaction. You opened your mouth to speak until Frank rudely cut you off.
"Explain to me why BILLY RUSSO is standing in my goddamn living room asking for you."
âPart 6âKing County Dirtâ (Shane Walsh x fem!Reader)
âNo Surrender, BabyâA Short Seriesâ
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
SUMMARY â Coming soon to a farmhouse near you: Rickâs sister spent twenty years pining after her brotherâs best friend. Shane Walsh spent twenty years pretending he wasnât pining right back. Then the world ended.
AUTHORâS NOTE â And so this saga, too, comes to an end⊠I'm so glad you enjoyed it and those who left all these comments I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! I hope it was funny and I hope it was romantic. I'll see you in the next one, undoubtedly, since Shane haunts my every narrative now.
WORD COUNT â 3,491
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âMy sister,â Rick said, once you were far enough away from the barn. âYou and herâŠâ
âYou saw what you saw,â Shane said, too tired and too beat to deny anything.Â
Rick nodded slowly, like he was digesting something bitter. âHow long?â
âDonât matter how long.â
âIt matters to me.â
âWhy?â Shane asked, his head snapping up to glare at Rick. âWhy does it matter? âCause the answer is longer than you know.â
Rick didnât let himself be provoked.
âWe got nothinâ but time.â
Shane wasnât as bad at reading people as some would think. He supposed he just never really bothered to use whatever he had read, is all. But Rickâs calm unnerved him, even if Rick was right. There was nowhere to run now. And Shane sure as hell wouldnât run without you.
Rick wasnât exactly mad at him. Shane didnât even remember Rick ever really being mad at him, which⊠Was a separate kind of problem. Maybe, Shane decided, Rick already suspected what had been going on with you both. Maybe he suspected your teenage crush, too.
âSince before she left for Atlanta,â Shane said, for once telling the complete truth. âBefore I watched her pack her car and didnât say a goddamn word.â
Rick looked at him sceptically and it made Shane want to tear his hair out.
âIt was⊠Dunno, man. Maybe itâs when she was twelve years old, tellinâ me I better not let nobody make fun of her again.âÂ
Rick didnât say a word still. His face stayed a solemn mask.Â
âReally? Back then?â he asked finally.
âYeah, back then,â Shane admitted. âBack when we were kids and I used to make her mad just to get her to look at me.â He dragged a hand across his mouth. âBut I never did anythinâ âcause⊠Donât matter now. I did the right thing. I let her go. And then the world ended. Thought everyone I ever loved was gone, made my peace with it.âÂ
For a while, Rick just⊠Looked at him. Shane felt the urge to fill that silence with more talk, but decided against it. He glanced at that barn instead, like he expected it to explode any second.
âOkay. So what the hell happened in King County?â Rick asked. âBefore I woke up.â
Shaneâs stomach turned over. Part of him hoped he would never have to explain. But another part knew Rick wasnât stupid, knew the man had been walking around with pieces of the puzzle since he came back.Â
âYeah,â Shane said. âItâs⊠You ainât gonna like it.â
And he told Rick everything. The very unpleasant details included, or maybe especially those details, because deep down inside Shane felt like a glutton for punishment.
The tale ended and Shane could tell that Rick was working hard at staying calm. Shane knew that look. He had seen that one before. Rick was deciding what kind of man he was going to be in the next thirty seconds. Shane honestly hoped they would fight. He was all talked-out for the next millennium or so. A punch to the face felt more honest.
âYou were always my brother, Shane,â Rick said finally. âIâve known you longer than my sister.â
âThat ainât fairââ
âI ainât finished.â
Shaneâs mouth snapped shut.
âYou saved my wife. You saved my boy. You kept âem alive when I couldnât and in the end, you tried to save me. I owe you everything for that. Everything.â Rick looked right at Shane now. There was no escaping his scrutiny. âBut with my sister, itâs different. âCause I know how she felt âbout you. And you treated her like hell sometimes. Back then, when she was followinâ us around. You were mean to her on purpose.â
Shane let out a short, broken laugh. âYeah. I was.âÂ
âWhy?â
Shane looked away and said nothing. Rick scoffed, his saintly patience finally wavering.Â
âYouâre an asshole,â he muttered.
Shane laughed, shaking his head. âYes I am, yeah. Iâm the asshole.â
Rick grimaced and still wouldnât let him deflect, not really. And Shane cracked, just a little.
âYou donât gotta understand it,â he said, his voice getting raspy, âbut every time she looked at me with them big eyes, I kinda forgot other people existed. So yeah, I was an asshole. Still am.â
Rick sent him a pointed look and it made Shane feel two inches tall.
âYou shoulda told me,â Rick replied, his face a little less stony now.
âWhen?â Shane asked. âWhen she was graduatinâ? Gettinâ her scholarship, makinâ big plans? Nah, man. Even I ainât that selfish.â
âYeah, youâre⊠Youâre right. She wouldâve stayed,â Rick admitted.Â
âYeah, so⊠There was no point.â Shane rubbed the back of his neck, thinking hard. âBâsides, the last time I saw her, it was at the hospital. You were in a fuckinâ coma, which by the way was my fuckinâ fault, too. Was I supposed to tell you then? Hell, on the other hand, maybe it wouldâve worked, youâd get so worked up youâd wake up just to punch me in the teeth.â
Rick laughed at that, actually laughed, and it was like that evening back on the porch again, when you and Shane came back from that run for Carl. It felt like a semblance of peace, a fragile foundation for something better than feeling like a piece of shit.
âIt wasnât your fault,â Rick said, but Shane didnât accept it.Â
âNah, it⊠I shouldâve seen that third shooter. I couldâveââ
âNo, you couldnât, okay, so just stop it. Itâs done. Nothinâ you couldâve done any different.â
âNah, I ainâtâŠâ Shane waved his hand dismissively, deciding not to say this next part. And Rick wouldnât push him anyway, because there was enough self-loathing between them to get seconds.Â
âI couldnât get to Atlanta either, so. Much good it all did us, me survivinâ that shootinâ instead of you.â
Rick went quiet again, turning Shaneâs words over like a casefile he couldnât close.Â
âIs that what you think?â Rick asked, shaking his head, arms folded. âJesus, you just canât help it, can you?â
Shane blinked. âHelp what?â
âBe the villain in every fuckinâ story.â
Shane couldnât admit it even to himself, but at one point he was fully prepared to burn the world down if it meant getting you out of Atlanta first. He seriously considered just driving there, never looking back. Now it all felt like a feverdream.Â
âYou survived and that ainât a crime.â Rick pointed to himself.Â
âFeels like it sometimes.â
âYeah, well, feelings ainât facts.â Rick studied Shaneâs face for two more seconds, before he dropped the bomb on him:
âShe make you happy?â
âShe makes me fuckinâ insane,â Shane snapped, before he could stop himself. âFlicks my goddamn ears like weâre kids again, Iââ
Rickâs mouth twitched. âAinât what I asked. But Iâll take it.â
Rick studied him for one moment more, before his face calmed.Â
âYou hurt her,â he said finally, âand I donât care what weâve been through, Shane. I will put you in the ground myself.âÂ
âYeah,â Shane said and nodded, even though his ego was screaming at him. âYouâd have to get in line behind her, though. Sheâd kill me anâ Iâd probably let her.â
âFine.â The corner of Rickâs mouth turned up again and he clapped Shane on the shoulder. âBut we ainât fine, Shane. I know thereâs some shit we gotta talk about and itâs gotta come out now, âcause we ainât got the time to go back and forth like this with the group. These people, theyâre countinâ on us. We gotta think âbout our next move here and we canât keep buttinâ heads like that.â
Shane stared at him, then scoffed.Â
âYeah, about that⊠Yâwanna, you know, punch me or somethinâ?â
Rick sighed deeply and shook his head, crouching down in the grass. âNot after the night we just had, no.âÂ
Shane exhaled, even though that small temporary truce between him and Rick felt fragile like a house of cards. And Shane knew better than to make himself at home in it.Â
So he made a choice.Â
âWait,â Shane said and grabbed Rickâs shoulder hard enough to stop him from walking back to the house. âThereâs somethinâ else.â
The next day, you saw Rick as you came to the kitchen to get breakfast. You didnât see Shane anywhere and a thought crossed your mind if maybe the two former partners had a shootout after all and you just slept through it.
âMorninâ,â you said and pulled up a chair next to him, getting into his personal space on purpose, just as he hated.Â
âMorninâ,â Rick mumbled back, not moving his coffee cup from in front of his face.Â
You reached over and stole a piece of bread from his plate.
âHey,â he protested.
âYou sleep at all?â you asked him, pretending to be innocent.
âDo I look like I slept?â
âYou look like shit.â
âYeah, well, you ainât exactly a prize yourself.â
âHey!âÂ
Rick laughed into his coffee.Â
âYeah, well, fuck you too,â you grumbled and stuffed your face with the bread. Rick pushed the butter dish your way.Â
âSo,â you said, chewing, âwhereâs Shane?â
Rick sent you a pointed look and you played innocent.Â
âWhat?â You shrugged. âJust checkinâ if you killed him.â
âNo. We talked.â
âOuch. Even worse.âÂ
You could tell he was working up to something. Rick never could just say a thing, had to circle it like a dog finding the right spot to lay down.Â
âHe told me things,â Rick said. âAbout... before. About how long heâs felt the way he feels.â
âUh-huh.â Your brows drew together. âDid he tell you⊠Any other things?â
Rick went silent again, just looking at his coffee.
âYou gonna answer me or just stare at that coffee like itâs a suspect?â you asked.
âIâm thinkinâ.â
âDonât strain yourself.â
Rick shot you a look. âYouâre real funny, you know that?â
âComes with the territory. Big brotherâs a cop, gotta develop a sense of humor or become irrelevant.â
He didnât comment, just set his coffee cup down and turned in his chair to face you properly. âHe told me other things.â
âRickâŠâ
âI ainât mad at you,â Rick interrupted, holding up a hand. âThatâs not what this is. You didnât do nothinâ wrong.â
âAinât about me.â You nudged his boot under the table.Â
âHe told me about the hospital,â Rick said. âIf thatâs what youâre gettinâ at. How he had to make a choice.â
âThat wasnât his fault.â
âI know.â
âThen why you lookinâ at me like that?â
Rick met your eyes and you noticed something guarded in his face. You knew instantly this was something serious.Â
ââCause he also told me you found something. Back at the house. Before all of this went down.â
You stared at him. âHe did?â
âNow, he told me to ask you, but just so you know, if itâs âbout Lori and IâŠâ Rick started, then stopped. âThatâs between me and her. Whatever happened when I was gone, I gotta work that out with her. Not you, not Shaneââ
âShe filed for divorce,â you said then, quickly, like you were afraid youâd never get another chance. âJust so you know that. When I came back home and you were in a coma. I found the papers at your house, thatâs what Shane told you to ask me. She wasnât even tryinâ to hide them too well. So you fix things with your wife all you want, just as long as you know that Miss Americana was trynna leave you while you were fuckinâ unconscious.â
Rick went still. Completely, utterly still, like he was a puppet and somebody had cut his strings. You immediately felt like a piece of shit for causing that.
âWhat?â he asked.
âDivorce papers,â you repeated, quieter now, because this felt less like justice and more like cruelty. âShe had âem drawn up before the outbreak. I found âem at your place when I was visitinâ, when you were still in a coma. I was looking for your health insurance, opened a drawer, then another, and there they were.â
Rickâs hand was trembling, just barely, and he pressed it flat against the table.
âShe was gonna leave me.â
âYeah.â
âTake Carl?â
âI assume.â
âDid Shane know?â
âNo.â You hesitated for a moment. âNo. I think only I knew and I never told her I found them. And listen, I⊠Iâm sorry. But Iâm only telling you this because you never listened to me when it came to that woman. And she is⊠If she wasnât runninâ around, acting like the First Lady of the Apocalypse, I wouldnât say shit. But sheâs fuckinâ insufferable. Besides that, I had to watch her treat you like shit for years and now sheâs back at it andââ
Rick slammed his hand against the table and you stopped talking. You watched a dozen emotions cross his faceâhurt, anger, embarrassment, and then something like relief.Â
âI gottaâŠâ He stopped and ran both hands down his face. âI gotta go.â
âRick, Iâm sorry.â You got up from your seat when he did.
âDonât.â He held up a hand, not looking at you. âI ainât mad at you. Just... give me a minute.â
Then he left, the screen door shutting hard behind him.Â
You thought that maybe he should be mad at you after all. But then again, Rick would never get straight facts when confronting Lori. Maybe you couldnât fight his battles for him, but now at least you gave him some ammo. You thoyught he did deserve to know. Maybe she did deserve to have her secrets dragged into the light, too.Â
In truth, you had spent years watching Lori Grimes twist your brother into knots and you were downright sick of her. You tried to talk to him about it, many times, but he shot you down every time, so in the end you stopped meddling. You called him less and less. You bit your tongue at Thanksgiving and Christmas when Lori picked fights over nothing and pretended everything was fine the next day.
Well, everything wasnât fine. Everything hadnât been fine for a long damn time.  Â
The screen door creaked behind you again and you turned, expecting Rick, but it was Shane, looking like something a walker chewed and spat out.Â
âJesus, what the hell happened to you?â you asked.
âWe cleared the barn.â
âAh.â
He moved to the counter, slow and careful on his bad ankle, and poured himself coffee from the pot.Â
âSaw Rick storminâ out,â he said.
âYeah.â You hung your head and refused to look up. Shane didnât push you, though, just stood by the sink and cleaned his hands with his back to you.Â
âI told Rick the truth âbout Lori,â you muttered, then sat down and put your head on the table like you were ready for the headsman to cut it off. âSomethinâ I learned before the outbreak.â
Shane paused his cleaning, but then pretended he didnât. âWhich is?â
âShe wanted to divorce him while he was in a coma. I found proof.â
âJesusâŠâ Shane rinsed his hands and wiped them, then finally turned around to you. âHowâd he take it?â
âAbout like youâd expect.â
He grunted and took a long sip of the coffee. âWhat the hell you tell him that for?â
You looked at him, and he mustâve seen something in your face, because he held up a hand before you could snap.
âNah, I ainât gonna defend no one,â he said, softer. âBelieve me, better he knows and doesnât buy whatever the hell Loriâs sellinâ.â
âHe didnât say nothinâ about me and you?â you asked. âLast night?â
âNah, he said plenty.â Shane leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. âTold me if I hurt you, heâd put me in the ground. Also said I been his brother longer than you been his sister.â He paused, a corner of his mouth twitching. âDonât kill the messenger, sweetheartâow!â
You tossed your spoon at him, but he just laughed. Despite everything, you smiled, too. Shane pushed off the counter and limped closer, stopping just out of armâs reach. He studied your face like he was looking for damage.Â
âYou alright?â
âNo.â
âGood. Me neither.â
He reached out then, hesitant in a way youâve never seen him. He cupped your cheek in his palm and you covered his hand with yours, keeping him there.
âRickâs probably gonna go to Lori,â Shane said, like he was a cop and you were the victim and he was explaining the next steps of the investigation to you. âAnd whatever happens next is gonna be ugly.â
âSo what do I do?â you asked.
âNothinâ,â he replied. âBest we do nothinâ. You eat somethinâ. And Iâm gonna sit my ass down before this leg gives out.âÂ
Shane lowered himself into the chair Rick had vacated, wincing as he stretched his bad leg out under the table.Â
âYou cleared the barn,â you said, changing the subject. âJust like that?â
âNot just like that.â He took another long sip. âTook four hours.â
You didnât ask for details. You could smell them on him from your seat.Â
âYou should sleep,â you said.
âI will. Eventually.â
âYeah, me too.â
You were both such liars sometimes that it almost made your getting together cosmically fated. Nevertheless, seeing the exhaustion first in Rickâs face then in Shaneâs made your chest hurt.Â
âYeah, well, somebodyâs gotta keep this place from fallinâ apart while your brother sorts out his marriage.â
âThat somebody ainât always gotta be you.â
Shane laughed. âNo? Who else? Ainât nobody volunteerinâ for the job.âÂ
You moved then, sliding your chair closer until your knee bumped his thigh. He went still, watching you with this familiar expressionâlike he knew you were up to no good and he enjoyed it.Â
âMove over,â you said quietly.Â
He did. Just enough. You sat sideways in the chair facing him and took his free hand in both of yours. His knuckles were split, the skin around two of them still raw.Â
âYouâre still bleedinâ,â you said.
âScratches.â
âScratches from what?â
Shane didnât answer.
âWhatâre you doinâ?â he asked.Â
âNothinâ.â You looked up at him. âJust sittinâ here with you.â
Shane stared at you for a long moment, something calculating behind his eyes. Then he set the coffee cup down and reached out, ran his fingers through your hair, then placed his palm at the back of your neck.
âUsed to think of doinâ that,â he said. âBack in King County. Sittinâ at your mamaâs kitchen table, you stealinâ food off my plate, me pretendinâ to get mad. Normal shit. Stupid shit.â
âYeah?â
âYeah.â
You flicked his ear faster than he could stop you. âBut you just let me pine for you instead.â
âI didnâtââ He stopped himself and exhaled sharply through his nose. âStop that. You werenât pininâ.â
âI was. I am now.â
âNow?â
âYeah.â
âAinât that just all kinds of fucked.â Shane smirked. âSpeaks to your taste, I guess.â
He leaned back in the chair and pulled you closer. Not with force, just slowly, deliberately. And you went in easy, which surprised him the most. There was no fight or begging for affection. Your head rested against his shoulder and he never wanted you to leave.
âI ainât good at this,â he said. âYou know that, right?â
âI know.â
âIâm gonna fuck it up.â
âProbably.â
He laughed. âGoddamn, woman. You could at least lie to me.â
âNo.â You closed your eyes. âI ainât never gonna lie to you. Weâve spent twenty years lyinâ, then you lied some more and look where it all got us. Nobodyâs happy.â
Shane opened his mouth to argue, then closed it.Â
âSo,â he said after some time, âwhat Iâm hearinâ is Iâm worth the wait.â
You laughed and hid your face in the crook of his neck. âDebatable.â
âHey. Watch it,â he warned you.
But you looked up at him then and saw that Shane was smiling. Really smiling, the kind of smile you havenât seen on him in a long while. He pulled you closer, until you were half in his lap. He didnât seem to care that anyone could walk through that door at any moment.Â
âTell you what,â he murmured into your hair.Â
âHmm?â
âIâm gonna kiss you now. And if Dale walks in with his damn binoculars, Iâm gonna make him eat âem.â
You laughed, the sound muffled against his skin. Shane tilted your chin up and made good on his plan. This kiss was different. Not desperate or rushed, more unhurried and full of twenty years of wanting.
You kissed him back, lips moving against his like you had all the time in the world, even though neither of you probably did. But whatever came at you, youâve decided there would be no retreat from what you wanted. Not anymore.
(Frank Castle x Reader)
summary: Meeting him was planned, calculated, and meant to happen. However, she wasn't supposed to fall in love with someone she was sent to murder...
TRIGGER WARNINGS: 18+ readers, angst, blood, violence, mentions of death, swearing, eventual smutt?? I think I covered it all
Author's note: Haha thank you all for the love on the first part. It really means so much to me and I love writing. This ones a long one and does have a time jump just for story line purposes. As always writing advice is appreciated:) I will be opening requests etc soon!
AI is not used at all in this story; simply just my sadistic mind.
CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR
Weeks have passed since your initial encounter with Frank and his unexpected request to become a part of his world. You half expected him to drop you off at some half-way house for safety as he bedded his goodbyes and hopes for you to find whatever you were searching for. What you didn't expect was for him to bring you home to his run down apartment in the forgotten parts of the city. As someone who people had nightmares about he ignorantly opened up his home to a complete stranger. Completely unaware of how he welcomed death dressed as a pretty girl.
You were nervous at first and rightfully so. Walking up the decrepit stairs that ached and creaked under any shift of weight. The lights in the apartment hallway that barely worked and flickered sure enough to short circuit any second. The unbearable smell of mold and cigarette smoke filling the room igniting several chokes out of you. Then there was his apartment. Bare. Simple. Yet completely Frank coded. When he opened the door you couldn't help the expression that covered your face. Shock. Maybe a bit of sadness mixed with guilt. He had a single couch in the middle of the room that looked as if it lived a lifetime. Weathered down in stories from past owners. Stains littered the couch in light brown splotches. In front stood a small tv box that was probably very popular in older generations. A long thick black cord coming out the back connected to a socket. Antennas coming out the top for a signal. His kitchen was no different. Random cans or packages of food littered everywhere. Some were empty while others were waiting to be eaten. No way was this proper nutrition for a man such as Frank Castle. The only place you haven't and refused to step foot in was his bedroom. Too intimate to endure based on why you were there in the first place.
Yet as the weeks went by you and Frank somehow fell into a very domestic routine. There was no romance involved in any of this. Just two adults, two roommates, living day to day life together. Frank would spend his days out on stake outs or an occasional battle and walk in late at night exhausted with an occasional injury. He never delved into conversation about what he did or why there were nights you would clean him up. Pulling out bullets. Stitching up gashes. Cleansing dried or fresh blood off his knuckles. Most of it not his own. Frank wanted to keep his hobbies a secret from you, wanting to keep any innocence left of yourself. However, you knew who he was, what he was doing, and even why he was doing it. His family, Maria and his kids murdered because of his own wrong doing. At least that's what Billy screwed into your head. That Frank was a bad man. A man seeking revenge for something he had caused back when he was a marine.
In contrast you spent your days cleaning the apartment and even decorating it with flowers you picked from neighboring gardens. Trying to bring some sort of brightness into an undoubtedly gloomy residence. Frank took notice, like he did with everything, and would even grumble something small about how his apartment's turning into the next Barbie Dream-house. You had even taken the time to properly stock the apartment with groceries. Quickly growing tired of eating frozen premade meals or beans out of a can. Which then led you to start cooking meals for you and Frank; learning that he loved pasta and completely hated the idea of salad. It was comforting in an entirely weird way how domesticated your life had suddenly come. You had almost forgotten how you'd eventually have to gun down the man who'd became a constant in your life. The biggest pain in your ass, but you enjoyed the dynamic. Never having this type of life before.
Ring...ring..ring..
Your phone sounding off interrupting your homely thoughts causing you to set down the wooden spoon you were using to stir the home made tomato sauce for the lasagna being prepared for dinner. You picked up your phone, looking to see who insisted on disrupting your day dreaming. 'Billy Russo' displayed across your screen. You sighed as swiped to answer and gently placed the phone to your ear.
"Yes Billy," you asked with annoyance lacing through your tone. You already knew why he was calling, behind on schedule, you taking too long, no need to play house blah blah blah. The same thing he said every day for the last week.
"Hello to you too Princess," he said causing you to roll your eyes as if he could physically see it.
"You've called me every. single. day. Nothing has changed since yesterday," you uttered out trying to regain attention back to your masterpiece at hand. Cursing as some of the piping hot sauce bubbled and splashed your hand.
"I wouldn't have to call every day if you would finish your damn job already. This shit was suppose to be taken care of WEEKS ago (Y/N)! The fuck is taking you so long? You trying to back out? Suddenly love the man?"
"No-" you yelled out even repulsed at the idea. As much as you enjoy the current dynamic. You couldn't picture yourself ever falling in love with Frank. Especially if he was the monster everyone painted him as.
"This shit takes time Billy. Why do you think I have so many wins under my belt huh? Cause I take my time and make them think they got something real. They get a taste of a made up promise and then I take them down. That's how this type of shit works. It won't work if your annoying ass keeps calling every day, yelling about the same shit! Frank Castle will be dead. Now goodbye Russo!" Before Billy has any time to reply you abruptly hang up the call. A giant sigh leaves your lips as you run your hands down your face exhausted. Because truth is, it shouldn't have taken this long. Franks just a guarded man who doesn't believe anyone has the ability to be honorable or trustworthy. So it's just taking a longer time, filled with home made pasta, beer, and nights patching him up.
You attend back to your previous task before Billy seemingly ruined the mood. You grab out the only glass dish located in Franks apartment, the one you picked up at a second hand store a few days ago when you initially planned to make lasagna but had little to no utensils. You took your time as you assembled the meal; noodles, sauce, cheese, until it filled the dish and you plopped on a final covering of cheese. Placing it in the oven calmly allowing the giant machine to work its magic.
Just then the front door opened and the sound of heavy footsteps echoed as they grew closer. You threw down the rag that was draped over your shoulder and wiped your hands quickly on your cloth covered thighs. Making yourself appear presentable before Frank laid his eyes on you. Not sure as to why you cared when you've seemingly saw him at his worst.
Frank appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. He looked even taller as he stood there with the top of his head just barely grazing the ceiling. His black hair was pasted to his forehead drenched in sweat and dried blood, adding to his dark nature. A purple bruise began to appear just under his left eye followed by a cut in his lip that dribbled out drops of crimson red. Franks arms were loosely crossed as he stared at you. As if he was debating to say something or express his exhaustion from tonights adventure.
"You cooking dinner," he asked as he walked over to the fridge grabbing out a beer and popping it open, taking a long sip like he was trying to drown out his inner monologue.
"Same thing I've been doing every day for the last couple of weeks Frankie. Canned food and frozen meals get boring after a while," you spoke as you peer down and check on the food. You avoided asking about the injuries. Knowing it would only provoke Frank to either lie or worse..tell the truth. Too intimate.
"Frankie eh? That's new," he muttered as a shit eating grin grew across his face.
Heat and embarrassment scattered across your cheeks realizing what had slipped out of your mouth. "Don't be a dick."
Frank let out a sound mixed between a grumble and a laugh. He shifted on his feet as he watched you clean up the mess you made. Taking an old rag and wiping down the counters. Then starting on the pile of dirty dishes in the sink, all from you and your demand of baking or cooking meals. He had grown to silently enjoy these moments of the day. He lived an incredibly dangerous life. People constantly wanting to seek him out and end him. While he sought out those same people, the ones who took away his family, and ended them before they had the chance. It was always unknown if he would make it home at night. He never really care if he did honestly. That was until he saw you that night, curled up on the sidewalk crying like life was too much to hold on to. If he was honest with himself, he saw a bit of himself in you. Stubbornness. An incredibly high ego. Independence that helped you survive in this shitty world. The only difference was that you brought out the light at the end of the tunnel. Slowly and yet somewhat unprovoked you started to make him want to make it home.
Frank would never admit it out loud, but he missed this part of life. He missed coming home from work and watching Maria cook dinner for him. He missed laying with her on the couch lost in whatever romance movie she convinced him to turn on. He missed putting his kids to bed and reading them stories while they begged for just one more. He missed having a reason to come home. That was until you filled that ache in his heart. He still doesn't know what he was thinking when he asked you to come with him. He knew it was dangerous. He knew he should've left you there. Yet a part of him was grateful he avoided his inner conscious because for once in his life...Frank had purpose again.
"You're staring."
Frank jumped and let out a cough being brought back to reality. He readjusted his vision and saw you standing there. Wet hands covered in soap as you held a sponge in one hand. A small grin plastered on your face.
"I was observing," he stated taking another sip of his beer.
"Yeah sure. If you're gonna lie at least make it believable Frankie," you laugh out as the oven beeped signaling the food was done. You dry off your hands and grab the oven mitt as you pulled out the lasagna.
"Y'know I can cook too. Shouldn't be the only one catering around here."
That evoked another laugh out of you. Loud and insanely offensive. "You? cook? Frank you were living your life out of a Dollar Tree discount section before I came along," you looked over at him as he held a solemn expression, obviously hurt by your comment. He wanted to return the favor and take care of you like you have been with him. You sighed as you walked over and placed your hand on his chest gaining his attention. "Besides, I enjoy doing this. I like making things and there isn't anything else to do in this place." Frank softly nodded his head signifying that he understood what you meant and shuddered at the close contact.
His chest felt hard beneath your small hand. You could feel the outlines of his muscle and the heat radiating off him like a human furnace. His heart beat thudded rapidly and you could feel it pick up speed as you glanced up at him. How could such an evil man be this indescribably handsome? Regardless of your opinion on Frank you could never deny the fact that he was gorgeous. You were an assassin...not blind. Your eyes slowly reached up to his as you both stood there, studying each other as if you both were the only people in the world. You noticed how his eyes were a dark chocolate brown, guilt hiding within them mixed with sorrow, yet they were comforting. You noticed how eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he watched you. You noticed how his jaw would tense and then ease like was convincing himself to back away.
"Well...I'm gonna go clean up quick before we eat," he muttered as he sat his beer down on the counter and stalked away. You remained in the current spot for what felt like hours. Hearing the bathroom door close and the shower turn on. Yet there you stood pondering about the intimate connection and how for just a second your subconscious wished Frank would've done something.
Empty plates littered the living room table as you and Frank sat on the couch miles apart. You on one end with your knees tucked in while Frank sat at the other with his legs perched on the table, nursing another beer. There wasn't any tension filling the room, but you both could feel the stale awkwardness. Like you were meant to be there, but not at the same time.
"So...how''s life," you asked begging for something to fill the silence. Frank shifted and peered over at you with a shrug of his shoulders.
"Eh same old shit different day."
A few seconds passed by before he kept on speaking.
"You?"
"Pretty much the same..." The conversation died and you both pretended to be watching whatever infomercial was on. Something about an extended warranty on a television...honestly you didn't know.
"Wanna play a game," you questioned immediately gaining Franks attention. He raised his eyebrows questioning your request.
"What are we twelve?"
You rolled your eyes and let out a small laugh. Which caused Frank to smirk back.
"No, but it beats just sitting here in silence."
Frank nodded agreeing with your notion and turned his body towards you. Kicking his feet off the table only to return them on the couch. His long legs reaching to just a few inches away from you.
"What you got on your mind darling," he joked not noticing the way the nickname affected you.
"Twenty-one questions."
"I'm not following," he expressed with a confused look on his face.
"We just go back n forth asking each other questions...helps you get to know a person-" you stated. "It's literally in the name," you finished.
Frank huffed out a laugh and nodded his head.
"Alright you go first."
Now it was your turn to look confused.
"What? No way! You ask the first question."
"Why would I? You wanted to play this game."
"Because you're a man."
"What does that have to do with anything," he gleamed with humor and joy at the small bickering between the both of you.
"Uh because I said so."
Frank sat there debating on what questions to ask. He wanted to avoid anything too personal out of fear of what reaction it would evoke. Even though deep down he wanted to get to know you. He wanted to learn about you and your aspirations. He wanted to learn about your past failures and future dreams. He wanted to understand what made you, you.
"Are you a dog or cat person," he asked.
You let out a sigh as you smiled. "Frank...nothing about my answer will let you get to know me."
"Actually a lot about your answer will tell me everything I need to know."
"How," you questioned as your eyebrows furrowed together. This man impresses you everyday with how far he goes in order to annoy someone.
"Just answer the damn question," he laughed out.
"Okay fine! I like both of them..equally." You grew a smile that had reached your ears.
"Not possible but go ahead your turn," he spoke waving his hand as if he was shooing you away.
"What made you become the Punisher?"
Frank choked on his beer as his eyes widened in shock. Various coughs erupted from him as he tried to regain the ability to not only breathe but think.
"What are you even-" he started before you cut him off.
"Frank, I'm not stupid. I watch the news and know how to use my brain," you finished for him. You could tell he was surprised by your question. You knew he would be, but after spending weeks with the man and only having Billy's side of the story, you suddenly wanted to understand Frank's.
He sat up straight on the couch planting his feet on the ground as he ran a hand down his face. A way of saying 'this is gonna be a hard conversation'.
"How much you wanna know," he asked suddenly growing quiet.
"Everything."
He let out a long sigh wanting to crawl into a hole and hide. He's only ever told this story to his friend, Micro, and even then the bastard knew everything. Telling you about his past meant that you would suddenly become more than just some random girl. You'd become more than the roommate and the woman who resides with him. Knowing the true story of Frank Castle meant that you would become someone he deeply care about. Someone he would want to protect from the evil outside these four walls.
"It uh, all started during my second tour in the marines-" he let out another sigh having to relive these unwanted memories. "Me and a couple of other soldiers were hand picked to execute these top tier cases. There was uh this one specific case that got recorded in secret. A guy was restrained for questioning by my Lieutenant. Something about him being a trader or whatever, I don't really remember-" he took a deep breath in and continued, "He ordered me to execute him. Right then and there. Man was innocent yknow' a police officer, a husband, a father...but I had to do it. Well the video ended up being released and the whole goddamn government or whoever thought I was the rat. That I wanted to expose them for what they were really doing. Killing innocent people. Drug trafficking. Allat' shit. I ain't know about any of that shit until after I left. But I didn't still don't know who released the video" Frank spoke as anger seethed out of him. "They uh ended up murdering my family and tried to kill me too. My wife Maria and our two kids caught the backlash from some stupid bullshit. So then, I just went after them bastards. Still go after them," he finished as a quiet sob broke out.
Your blood ran cold as you listened to Frank choke out any pieces of the dreadful story. You couldn't decide who to believe in your mind. Do you believe the academy, who raised you and taught you to go after men like Frank? Who they would describe as pollutants ruining the American name. Do you believe Billy Russo, the man who orchestrated this entire case built on the fact that Frank was presumed a terrible man. Or do you believe Frank, the man who opened his home up to a complete stranger, trusting you with his story, and silently crying to himself on the couch just inches away. Your mind raced as you took in the information. Your moralities and guidance suddenly being stripped away as if they were never true to begin with. You could not wrap your head around the idea that you, may just be the terrible people Franks referring to.
"Yknow' I still see them? Every night I have these bone chilling nightmares. Maria or Frank Jr. walk in and wake me up in the morning and then out of nowhere these men in uniform come in and shoot em'. Just to pull off the mask and it be me," he quietly mumbled out.
You let out a small gasp, bringing your hand over your mouth in hopes to silence the sound. Before you could process your actions, you crawled across the couch closing the distance between you and Frank. You slowly opened your arms as you grasped him into your embrace.
"I'm sorry Frank. That's just....horrible." You express as he stays still, but refusing to lose the sudden physical contact with you.
You and him stayed like that for a while. Him with his head in his hands feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. So encapsulated by grief and rage with nowhere to put it. You quietly holding him trying to take away the pain. Take away the grief. Take away the broken parts of Frank and put them back together in a different light.
Your whole existence became ruined the moment you realized inadvertently you worked for the people that ruined Frank. However, you suddenly saw Frank in a different way, which frightened you even more. You saw a man who trusted his country and it ended up ruining his life. You saw a man who grieved for his family and worse, put the blame on himself. You couldn't help but to care for him at this point. Even if it meant you were destined to die when the profound news reached back to Billy and the others.
Frank suddenly shifted his body and extended his arms to return the pain ridden hug. Absentmindedly and also out of comfort, you climbed into his lap, legs straddling each side of his own. Being in Franks grasp felt oddly comforting. You were a mere elf compared to his size. His body swallowing you completely whole.
You pulled away slightly to look at him, which tore apart your heart even more. Frank's face was red with white splotches scattered across, indicating he was crying and holding back the flow of tears. His eyes were tired as they peered back at you. His lips were a blush red and slightly swollen from biting an holding back sobs. Yet, he still looked perfect.
"Thank you," he whispered out afraid if he spoke any louder you would suddenly vanish.
"For what."
"For just...seeing this and not running for the door," he truthfully spoke and he rested his hands on your hips. Rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs.
You let out a small laugh and reached your hand out finding residence on his cheek.
"Frank....I wouldn't wanna be anywhere else," you admitted as you leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.
"You trust me," you asked peppering kisses along his jawline evoking a gasp and small groan from him.
"Of course," he breathed out tightening his grip on your hips, surely enough to leave bruises.
summary: Meeting him was planned, calculated, and meant to happen. However, she wasn't supposed to fall in love with someone she was sent to murder...
WARNING: 18+ readers, angst, blood, death, swearing, eventual smutt??? I think I covered it all
"Frank will be west-bound located behind the old library later tonight," Billy Russo spoke into the phone that rested lazily between his shoulder and ear. Him and his team have spent weeks tracking Frank Castle. Wanting to finally end him and his determination for revenge.
"And you're sure of this how," you asked wearily as she continued to pack her bag preparing for the long night ahead. Frank was the type of man who only allowed himself to get caught...if he wanted to be caught. Billy let out a frustrated sigh and you could mentally picture him rub his temples to relieve the start of a headache.
"Because (Y/N), we've been watching him for days now going to the same place, same time, and hiding out. Instead of spending your time questioning me, how about you do your job. The academy spoke highly of you. Don't make them or myself regret this," he muttered out harshly before ending the phone call abruptly.
You tossed the phone onto the hotel mattress, watching it bounce a few times before laying still. A chill ran up your spine as you thought about everything that could possibly go wrong tonight. You've done this before. Staking out people. Getting them to trust you. And before they knew it their bodies would drop and grow cold. You were a professionally trained assassin. However, this case felt different, hell it was different. You were going after the Frank Castle. The Punisher himself.
The plan was simple. You were to go to the library where Frank would be sat at and pretend to need help. Get him to let down his steel constructed walls and trust you. Then when he least expected it you would take him out. It sounded better coming out of Billy's mouth because now as you ponder, it sounds completely ridiculous.
You glance over at the clock located on the broken down beside table that read eleven-thirty. Your nerves went into over drive as you calmly grabbed your bag and headed out.
It was dark outside as your feet swiftly carried you the old run down library that hasn't been used in decades. Sirens were heard off in the distance and you kept your head down to avoid eye contact with others around you. Surprisingly the use of any streetlights were scarce even with being in an overpopulated city like this. It was like the place knew what was about to happen. Increasing the natural ambiance of it all.
Before you knew it, the library lay ahead covered with plywood and a 'DO NOT ENTER SIGN' plastered on the front in red. And just like clock work you could just barely hear the rumble of Frank's van behind the building. Now was the time to stay focused. One wrong move would have your head on a stick in Billy Russo's office or even worse at the hands of the Punisher.
You took in a deep breath of fresh air to try and calm your nerves as you meticulously walked and took a seat on the ground the building adjacent to the library. Directly in Frank's point of view. Setting your bag down beside and laying your head in your hands. If looking like a damsel in distress provoked Frank, then so be it. Even if this went against any feministic or egotistical morals you carried.
The minutes felt like hours as you sat there faking crying and letting out exasperated huffs. You knew deep down that Frank wasn't the type to just save anyone. Especially a random woman sitting next to an abandoned library. Frank saved people he presumed as worthy. He wasn't some superhero who waited for cries of help. He sought out the true criminals. Then if an innocent bystander happened to be there then...he helped in his own Frank way.
A sudden movement was heard that caused you to perk your head up. A freakishly tall man who looked as if God took his time sculpting him piece by piece, stood a few feet away from you. Frank. You yelped from the sudden presence. How long was he just standing there and watching you?
You snuffed your noise and wiped away the fake tears as you peered at him. He had a stone cold face that watched you, standing with his arms crossed, an all black hoodie encapsulated his upper half with black jeans and large boots decorating his bottom half. Waiting for any sudden movement. Waiting to see if this was a set up.
"Look sir, I don't want any trouble-" You began to choke out before being rudely interrupted by a deep gravely voice.
"What are you doing out here," he questioned sternly. Still holding the same placement as before, if not colder.
"Obviously sitting here crying a river," you sarcastically stated gesturing your hands to your sudden predicament. Frank still just stared. "Wow tough crowd," you mumbled beginning to stand up and gather your things.
"What I mean is, why is a young woman like yourself out here in the middle of the night alone," he questioned further as he shifted on his feet a little.
"Running," you lied as you dusted the small pieces of dirt from your palms. Frank let out a quiet huff.
"From what?"
"Do you usually question every girl you meet like this? Or am I just a lucky winner," you retorted as you rolled your eyes and started to walk away slowly. "I'm running from life. Not that it's your problem any way."
Before you could get any farther away, a tug on your arm stopped you and spun you around. God this man moves quick.
"It's not safe out here. You know how many creeps are out looking for girls like you? Sad with their tail between their legs," he harshly spoke as he looked you up and down. You wore gray sweatpants that loosely hung on your hips and an oversized hoodie. You scoffed tearing your arm out of his grasp.
"You mean like yourself?" Frank huffed out a chuckle.
"Where you heading? Hopefully it's home" he asked completely ignoring your comment.
"I don't have a home," you stated matter of factly. It wasn't a complete lie. Since being in the academy you were constantly being sent to different parts of the world. Staying in hotel rooms for weeks at a time until you were finished with a case. Then your boss would send you off to another. The cycle constantly repeating for the last decade. So no, you didn't have a home.
Before Frank's brain could process the words coming out of his mouth he spoke, "Wanna come with me?"
You smiled to yourself. Step one...complete.
CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 4
AHHHH im so excited to have created my first fic. PLS let me know if you guys want a second part:)) also writing tips are appreciated.
Trigger Warnings: 18+ MDNI. SMUT SMUT SMUT, Non descriptive reader (images in the moodboard are for the vibe only). Franks a bit of a brat tamer, slight orgasm denial, Oral (f recieving), pinv, anal, creampie, fingering (f recieving). If I missed any please lmk!
Summary: Frank brings Sweetheart into town to run some errands, Frank thinks hes funny resulting in Sweetheart getting in a huff.
Authors Note: WOAH! HOLY SHIT! This is a long one! And we've made it to part 3! Its barely propf read so ignore any mistakes. I worked really hard on this and I really hope I done it justice!! I hope you guys love it! đ€
Part One & Two
Continue Below To Read.
"You want it all, Willa? The house? The babies? The Ra-"
"FRANK!" The book is swiped out of your hands in one swift motion. "C'mon Dollface, librarys closin." He chuckles gently placing your bookmark in between the pages to save your position. "You cant do that! Its finally happening!! I have to finish this chapter!" You cry, arms outstretched for the book. Frank looks down for a moment skimming over the page and let's out a cheeky whistle raising his eyebrow in your direction. "Geez, you're sure missin' out! Too bad. We gotta head into town, I gotta run some errands." He runs his hands through his hair pushing it back before he throws the cap sitting beside him on. "Aaaand, if you didnt forget, you spent last night begging me to bring you back in to see if that dress you so desperately needed is still there!"
You throw your duvet back in defiance and throw your legs out of the bed. "Fine." "Fiiine?" Frank questions you with squinted eyes and his eyebrows raised. You playfully roll your eyes and throw a smile over your shoulder making a kissy face at the grump beside you. "Okaaaay, thank you for remembering, Frankie." You jump up and potter over to your shared closet to put on something more presentable for the excursion. "You got ten minutes sweetheart." Frank presses a kiss to the top of your head and taps your ass on his way out.
After throwing a flowy skirt and denim waistcoat you make your way downstairs to grab your sunglasses off the console table by the front door. You throw them on and run some Burts Bees over your lips when Frank approaches from the kitchen grabbing the keys to the truck from the same spot. "N'I have some?" He grunts pulling your hair so your head falls back allowing him to lean down and plant a kiss on your moisturised lips. "Hmmm, Ready to rock?" "Ready to rock." You confirm with a lazy smile. "I call dibs on the aux!" You declare knocking your hip against his. Truth is, theres never an argument over the aux, Frank couldn't care less as long as he gets to spend the rest of his life listening to you happily sing along to whatever comes on next.
You slide into the front seat next to Frank and kick your sandals off, tucking one foot under your leg and perching the other on the edge of your seat. Hooking your phone up you scroll through Spotify curating the queue to your liking before clearing your throat to start your concert for your number one fan, Frank. Hes amazed that you know the words to all of these songs, the whole ride you havent missed a single beat.
Patting your knees as you belt out the the last chorus of "When a Good Man Cries" Frank pulls into an empty space and kills the engine. You sit upright straight and do a half bow in Franks direction. "Thank you, thank you! Theres more where that came from." "Okay, Mariah. Lets go" He smirks tipping his head toward the the busy street. Before you can even gather your things Frank is already your side and opening your door with his hand out. Taking it, you jump down from your seat and make your way to the path. Wrapping his heavy arm around your shoulder he presses a kiss to your hair. "Got some errands t'run, meet back here in 'bout fourty five?" Nodding you fix your bag strap on your shoulder you both go your seperate ways.
Humming along to the tune in your head you make your way to the boutique where you talked yourself out of buying THE most perfect summer dress last weekend. It was everything. The perfect shade of baby blue with little white polka dots, just long enough to brush your fingertips with a V neckline that kept it classy but just a little bit flirty. You walk around the store mentally damming yourself for not picking it up when you seen it first. It was too pretty! Someone would have surely snatched it up! Sifting through hangers you begin to lose hope until you spot it in the corner of your eye. "Eeeeee!" You squeel before you quickly look around the store to make sure youre not getting any strange looks from the staff or other customers. You pull it from the rail and clutch it to your chest "perfect, perfect, perfect!" You whisper to yourself like you're that weird slimy guy from Lord of the Rings. You quickly bring the coveted item up to the sales assistant to pay and bring your beautiful new baby home.
You're walking on sunshine the whole way back to meet Frank, big smile, shopping bag swishing with every step you take. Well, thats until a large figure brushes his hand off yours scooping said bag from your loose grip. You freeze. Walking ahead of you the bald man's step faulters when you shout "what the fu-?!" He stops and turns on his heal. "Ohmygod." Your hands fly up to your mouth in shock. "Uh. Surprise?" Frank grimaces running his hand over his now buzzed head as he walks back towards you. "Frank! Oh my god!" You slap his shoulder now that hes standing onfront of you. "This!" You wave your hands up and down towards him. "This, was your errands?!" "Yeah sweetheart, you mad?" His dark brown eyes now desperately trying to read your expression. You just stand there, three fingers pursed over your lips taking him in. Damn, it suits him. How can he pull off every look!? "Frankie, I love it." You sigh. "Yeah?" He leans in to let you run your hand over it. "Yeah Frankie, I really do!" Your eyes lighting up at the new sensation under your fingers. "Ooooh thank god." His shoulders finally relax when you press a sweet kiss to his lips taking his free hand in yours. "You're lucky you can pull it off bucko or alla this would be on lockdown." You mock gesturing along your body. Frank looks down at you with his eyebrow raised and a stern look. "Yeah sweetheart, we see how long that'd last." Nearing the truck you cluth your pearls in a dramatic display of outrage. "Oh we'll see about that Francis."
Always the gentleman, Frank opens the passenger door for you allowing you to climb up into your seat. He watches as you buckle your belt and get comfy before leaving your shopping bag at your feet and closing your door. Frank gets behind the steering wheel and starts the engine ready for whatever your throw on the radio as he pulls out of the parking space. He reaches the first set of lights in complete silence and throws a look your way to see if your thumbs are tapping away putting together the set list for the journey home but your phone hasn't left your bag nor your hands left your lap thats now turned completely to your door. Rubbing his hand down his face Frank sighs. "Doll, y'know I was just playin'" he reaches to place his hand on your thigh while he waits for the lights to turn green. Pulling your arms to cross over your chest you shake your hair out of your face and cross your legs somehow pulling them even closer to your door. "You wanna play? Im playing Francis." You quip turning your nose up watching whatever isnt happening out your window. You both spend the rest of the journey home in silence.
Pulling up to the property you rest your head against your seat trying your best to not look Franks way, he wouldn't get the better of you this time. Once again, Frank kills the engine and you cant get out of the truck fast enough. Frank hasn't even gotten his belt off and youre walking up the steps to the front door. You hear the drivers door shut and the heavy footsteps coming up the porch steps as he approaches you. "How'd you think you were gonna get in sweetheart?" He says sweetly bringing the keys to the lock. "I dunno, break a window." You mutter ducking under his arm kicking your sandals off in the entryway and marching up the stairs to get away from him.
You know this is stupid. But hes stupid. You have willpower dammit! You can resist that beautiful buzzed man! Fuck. That beautiful buzzed man. Your thighs clench when you think about his fresh new cut. You throw your shopping bag on the bed and shake your head. "Willpower. You have willpower." You whisper your new mantra to yourself. You can hear Frank stomping around downstairs, as you take your new purchase out of the bag ans admiring it before hanging it on the door of your wardrobe.
*light bulb!*
"I have willpower. Does he?" You mumble to yourself running your hand over the satin on front of you. "FRAAANK!" You call out the bedroom door waiting for a response. You hear his steps clomping up the stairs. "You outta your huff?" You hear him say under his breath. It takes everything in you not to say something snappy back so you bite your tongue. Frank appears in the door way as you unbutton your waistcoat. "Chair. I wanna know if you think I should return this or not." You nod toward the small armchair sitting in the corner of the room. Clearing the room in three long steps he plants himself on the chair, legs spread and arms crossed.
You make and ordeal of undoing each button one by one. Each one allowing your breasts break free and spill over the next button. You look up at at Frank when you undo the last one and pulling your shoulders back allowing the waistcoat to slide off your arms. Your next task is hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your skirt and turning around as you slowly wiggle it past your hips and arching your back to pull it down over the swell of your ass. Looking back at Frank over your shoulder you examine him. Ankle now over his knee as he bites at the side of his thumb. Its working. You let the skirt drop and step out of it adjusting the sides of your underwear to make sure theres nothing out of place. Youre standing in the middle of your shared bedroom with nothing but a white thong with a little blue bow on. You he frank let out a shaky breath as you go and pull the dress from the hanger and play it out flat on the bed. You place both hands on the matress as you stand at the foot of the bed "admiring" the little pale blue dress, running your finger along it to find the zipper on its seam. "Thereee it is!" You innocently whisper to yourself pinching the seam and opening the side of the dress. Picking it up you turn your back on Frank placing the dress over your head and letting the slinky fabric fall down your body before smoothing it out and fastening the zipper. You turn on your tip toes to face Frank and use the tips of your fingers to fix the hem of the dress nonchalantly before looking up at him.
You know you look good before Frank even let's out the breath that hes been holding. It's the perfect dress. Its hugs your curves perfectly, your tits have never looked better in any other article of clothing that you've ever owned and your ass?! Frann could eat his dinner off of it. "Whaddya thi-"Â "shit, doll" "Is it bad?! Ill bring it back" you mutter in fake concern as you twist side to side trying to get a better look in the mirror ontop of your dressing table. You run your fingers through your hair making your way to thebfull length mirror that resides in the hall to get a better look.
Fixing the shoulders and flattening the fabric across your stomach taking in the dress that hugs your body in all the right places, Frank appears behind you. "Its perfect." His index finger runs along the V on the back of the dress. "Y'sure Frank? Its not too much?" Your voice sweet as pie. Frank moves your hair off your shoulder planting a kiss to the slope of your neck as he pulls the tag off the back of the dress. "Frankie! I cant return it now!" "Youre not returnin it." His hand now holding your hips as the other snakes up your jaw turning your head back toward his. "Nah ah ah, Frankie" you try to turn away but Franks strong grip makes it nearly impossible. "You still playin' this game baby?" He mumbles against your lips. Your try to nod and all he does is laugh at you. "You knew what you were doin' callin' me up here sweetheart didnt ya?" "Yeah Frankie, I wanted your opinion" you whisper against him. "You mean to tell me, you requested that we drive all the way back into town today so you can get the dress that you seen laaast week as if you didnt already try it on in the store and knew it would drive me crazy?" Me mutters against your ear as he presses his hard bulge against your back. You gulp trying to keep your resolve. "Dunno what you're talking about." You try to break free but Franks grip on you tightens holding you in place, your pulse thrumming under the fingers holding your jaw. Hes let's out a low chuckle "dunno what im talkin' bout." He mocks feeling the frantic tick against his thumb before leaning in to press a kiss against the lie. Your body goes up in flames at the contact. "Frank" you half whisper, your hand coming up the back of his bicep before reaching his neck and caressing the now short hairs at the base. "Yeah, sweetheart?" He hums against the soft hollow of your throat. Sighing you bring your free hand to the one he has gripping your hips trying to urge it forward, franks eyes lock with yours in the mirror using his strength against you. "Nah Doll, you dont need me, you wanted to play remember?" You try turning your head toward Franks but he doesn't allow it, stern keeping your face locked on the mirror watching your thighs clench in desperation. "Thats unless..." he trails off letting his hand make its way down your hip and towards your growing heat stopping when his fingers reach the hem of your dress. Your breath hitches, chest rising pushing your cleavage against the low cut neckline. "You gonna stop acting like a little brat?" He holds the position watching your resolve melt as you whine "you win Frankie, I dont wanna play anymore, okay?!" Frank hums as his fingers slip past the hem and meets the soft cotton of your underwear. "Not what I asked sweetheart" toying with the little bow on the front. Frantically nodding you babble "yes Frankie, Im sorry! Im done, I thought I- I thought-" trailing his fingers down your core he runs his middle over your slit until hes met with the damp patch. "Shh, shh, shh, jesus baby. You getting yourself all worked up over this dress?" All you can do is nod as you watch his fingers work in the mirror. "Poor girl, you gonna stop acting all pissy over a lil joke?" "YES! Yes, Frankie, Im done, I promise!"
Frank pulls your face back towards his in a bruising kiss, his tongue dominating yours as he pulls your panties to the side and pushing his fingers past your glistening entrance. You gasp at the sudden fullness allowong Frank to lick at your top lip before he turns your head back to your reflection. "Look at the mess you're makin' baby. You really thought you could play that game? Two seconds and you're already drippin' on my fingers." You whine leaning your back against his strong chest. What were you thinking? How could you ever deny him. Franks fingers are pistoning in and out of you, dragging you closer to the finish line. He can feel you grip his fingers as your legs start to close around his wrist. "Frankie, I'm gonna cum." You pant gripping the back of his neck as you watch him torture your pussy with hooded eyes. "Yeah? My baby gonna cum all over my fingers?" You're frantically nodding as your breathing gets deeper and all you can feel is him. The familiar euphoria begins to wash over you until, you',re empty. Frank pulls his fingers from you letting go of the grip on your jaw and backing away.
Tears prick at your eyes "Fra-", both of his hands envelop your face pulling you in for a hungry kiss. "Thought you'd get away with your little stunt that easy?" He smirks as he pulls away. Turning you around he bends you over the bannister hiking your dress up over the swell of your ass. He brings his hand down behind your knee and brings it up to rest against the wooden railing before kneeling down behind you admiring the dark patch in the middle of your panties and running his thumb over it. "Pretty little pussy" he mumbles to himself before pressing his face to it and taking a deep breath before peppering kisses along the gusset.
Pushing against his face you hum, grateful for any sort of friction against your buzzing core. He hooks his finger into the thin stretch of fabric covering your asshole and glides his tongue over your puckered hole, the sensation of his beard against your pussy causing a shiver to run up your spine. "Frankie, pleaseee" you cry as he drags his tongue between your drenched pussy and asshole.
He brings himself to stand behind you, unbuckling his his belt and freeing his thick cock. You feel the warmth of his hand on the bottom of your back as he steps closer hooking his thumb in your panties to keep them pulled aside, running his cock through your pussy he lets out a sigh as it bumps your clit. He pulls back through your folds coating his cock in you wetness and drags the head between your cheeks allowing your underwear to snap over it as he thrusts a few times before moving back down to your aching pussy pressing against your opening as he bully's his way in inch by inch. "So fuckin' tight, squeezin' me." He grunts pushing deeper until he fits flush against your body. You throw your head back with a gasp feeling him knock against your cervix, hand reaching back to grab the wrist at the bottom of your back. "You can take it sweetheart, shes suckin' me in." Frank starts his steady rhythm, slowly pulling out and snapping back in, relishing in watching your cheeks bounce with every slap, his hand reaches around to your heavy breast toying with your perky nipple through your dress. You can feel yourself getting close but you're too scared to say anything incase Frank pulls out or stops but he can feel it too; pussy like a vice around him, your juices coating his balls everytime they slap against your aching cunt. His hand leaves your breast and makes its way to your neglected clit, he begins rubbing tight circles over her, pulling your orgasm closer. "C'mon baby. Lemme feel her." He coos between the breaths that get knocked out of you with every thrust. "FRAAANKIE, BABBYYY" you cry as your pussy clenches down and spasms around his cock. "Thaaats it baby." Frank sighs fucking you through your climax, slowing down to let you catch your breath.
You twist your body back panting as you look at Frank with a soft smile and rosy cheeks. He runs his hand along your elevated leg as he pulls out of you and eases it back down. "That what you wanted, sweetheart?" He asks, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. Nodding as you turn around you remark "Yeah Frankie, but I wanted to see what you look like fucking me with your new haircut." "Oh yeah?" He smiles down at you. "Oh yeah" you nod with more enthusiasm as you wrap your arms around his neck and jumping. Frank is quick to respond, large hands meeting you thighs and wrapping them around his waist, cock bobbing against your ass as he walks you both back towards the bedroom.
"Tell me what you want doll" Frank leans back on the bed when the mattress meets the back of his knees. "I wanna ride you" you whisper against his lips before kissing him and pushing his back flush with the bed and running your hands over his chest. Frank hums in agreement running his hands up your legs and over your hips. "Take what you want, Baby, all yours." He pulls away taking in your body straddling his hips. With a cheeky smile, you reach down to his veiny dick pumping it a few times and rubbing it over your pussy, you love feeling how hard he gets in your hand. You throw a glance his way to check in and he just nods at you biting his lip.
Sitting upright and spitting in your hand you reach behind you and start coat his cock in the moisture before slowly starting to sit down. "Woah, woah, woah!" Franks grip on your hips tightens stopping you from going any further. "Frank, relax" you try to reassure while him attempting but not succeeding to sink down on him.
"You sure this is what you want?" He rushes out, body tense. "Yes Frankie, I can do this, I want this, waited for it!" You sigh impatiently. "You need me to stop, you tell me to stop. No questions." Leaning down you press a kiss to his nose. "I promise."
Franks grip loosens but his hands dont leave your hips, eyes raking over every inch of your body looking for signs of discomfort as you start lowering yourself down on him. The tip of his cock kisses your puckered hole and you feel him twitch. Making eye contact with Frank you offer him a nod as you hips begin to make their way down.
You his at the slight burn that starts as you push down around him. Franks whole body freezes and his hands tighten on you hips until you give him a soft smile and reassurance that youre okay. You move up before sliding back down another inch, butterflies begin to form in your stomach at the stretch. You repeat this motion, taking him deeper each time until you've fitted him fully inside you. You look over the man under you, the picture of restraint, muscles taught, jaw set and brow furrowed. You start to move now that you've adjusted to the size and new sensation, Franks shaky breaths egging you on as you find your rhythm. "Jeeesus fuckin' Christ sweetheart, you're stranglin' me." He chokes out as you drop down on his length again, you can feel him stretching you out, cock deep inside you, pussy fluttering around nothing.
Your curiosity gets the better of you when you decide to let your two middle fingers make their way to your empty cunt. Franks eyebrow raises as you enter yourself and let out a high pitched sigh. You've never been this full, pressing your fingers to the sweet spongey spot deep inside you as Franks cock rubs against them on the other side of the dividing flesh. You cant help your moans as you bounce on his thick legth while your fingers aid in overstimulating your senses.
"You're gonna have to slow down." Frank pants. "Fuck Frankie, Im fine!" You whine as you clench around your fingers.
"Baby you gotta slow down, you're too fuckin' tight!" He grunts, unable to stop him self from grinding up into you on every bounce. "Frankie, fucking cum in me. I want to feel you fill me!" You pant as sweat beads fall down your brow. "You sure, sweethea-" "Fuuuck!" Your free hand grips his chest as your orgasm wrecks through you. "Ah fuck baby!" Franks grip tightens as your body convulses around him, milking him of his seed as he grinds up into you.
Panting you lower yourself down so your chest is flush with his, hearts beating against eachother while you both try to catch your breath. "Wow." You start to giggle pushing your face into his neck. "Wow." Frank pants running his hand through your hair and down your back, shaking his head in disbelief.
âPart 5âAinât No Cure for Thatâ (Shane Walsh x fem!Reader)
âNo Surrender, BabyâA Short Seriesâ
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
SUMMARY â Coming soon to a farmhouse near you: Rickâs sister spent twenty years pining after her brotherâs best friend. Shane Walsh spent twenty years pretending he wasnât pining right back. Then the world ended.
AUTHORâS NOTE â This chapter came a bit late as I'm currently running a fever. But it has everything we like, namely some action, some confessions, and of course Shane making the wounded dog eyes at Reader.
WORD COUNT â 6,287
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Taglist
Itâs been a few more surprisingly peaceful days at the Greene land. Shaneâs leg was healing against its will, for one. With how much he was marching around and fixing things you considered it a Godâs given miracle he still even had legs.
As for Carl, he was up and walking on his own now, which clearly changed things for the group. Now they no longer had any excuse to stay and it made you nervous. Mostly because Shane already kept trying to persuade Rick to pack up and leave for Fort Benning about every other day.Â
Hershel wasnât exactly opposed; he and Shane were like fire and water, constantly arguing about how to run things. Given what kinds of stories Shane had been sharing with you by the fire just about every evening, you couldnât help but side with him. Hershel had been keeping you safe so far, this much was true, but he had no idea what was really lurking out there.
Rick and Shane were constantly butting heads too, but you didnât try to make peace between them. It was no use. In your experience, forcing them to make up only made these two fight even more.
But one day you noticed something nobody else could. Sometimes, Shane and Rick would work together. Just like that. There was no clear pattern to it, no indication of any particular cause, just⊠Once in a while, one would approach the other, one of them would grunt questioningly, the other would grunt affirmatively and they wouldnât try to kill each other anymore. All of a sudden, they would be best friends again, perfectly capable of amicable cooperation (for an hour or two). Just as they were working together right now, fixing the southern part of the fence.
You took your morning coffee with you to the porch and watched them from a distance like they were morning news. Truthfully, you really did miss your Netflix subscription, maybe it was just about boredom. Certainly not because Shane would be out there shirtless in the field basically every damn day.
You noticed how animated Shane was while talking to Rick and you tried not to giggle about it. It wasnât hostility, not in the slightest. He was telling him something, maybe even reminiscingâjudging by how hard Rick laughed at the end of that story, it must have been the latter. And then you spotted somebody else watching them closely. Lori. It soured your mood in an instant.
Rick was oblivious, but Shane wasnât. He still kept talking, grinning at Rickâs laugh, but you noticed how his gaze kept flicking towards the porch now, towards Lori. She was standing there, in the shadow of the porch with her arms wrapped around herself like she was cold in eighty-degree weather. You wanted nothing to do with her huffing and puffing so you inched closer to Shane and Rick now, trying to overhear what they were talking about.
âYou even listeninâ?â Rick asked, nudging Shaneâs shoulder with the back of his hand.
âYeah,â Shane lied. âIâm sayinâ I dunno why that dumbass thought climbinâ a dumpster would help him get away. We still cuffed âim and everythinâ.â
âI know what youâre sayinâ. I asked if we got enough wire to finish this section.â
Shane looked down, puzzled, at the spool of fencing wire between his boots.
âUh. Maybe. Gotta check the truck.â
Rick followed his gaze towards the house and you saw the exact moment your brother noticed Lori too. Rickâs smile dimmed, just a fraction. It made you unreasonably angry.
âYeah, alright.â Shane set down the pliers and wiped his hands on his pants. âIâm gonna grab some water. You good?â
âIâm good.â
Shane drank straight from the water jug, like the manners his old man never managed to beat into him were still worth ignoring. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and only now caught you watching him.
âWhat?â he called out, already defensive.Â
You just laughed at his irritated expression and walked faster towards them.
âNothinâ,â you said, too innocent. âHey.â
âHey,â Shane and Rick said in unison and then looked at each other, confused. You laughed louder.
âYou were tellinâ that story wrong, by the way,â you said.
Shane frowned even more. âThe hell I was. Thatâs exactly how it happened.â
âNo, you left out the part where you also nearly fell into the dumpster tryinâ to grab that perp.â
âI did not fall, I entered the dumpster in pursuit of a suspect and thenââ
âFell.â
âEntered.â
âFell.â
Rick laughed then and you realized he was watching you two like one might watch a soap operaâone that was probably bad, but entertaining just because it was so bad. You supposed this was Rickâs candlelight pantomime.
âRemember when she used to do this?â Rick asked Shane, leaning against the freshly fixed part of the fence. âFollow us around, correct every damn word outta our mouths?â
âYeah,â Shane said, not looking up. âUsed to drive me insane.â
âUsed to?â Rick asked.
âDamn, I must be off my game!â You feigned shock and Rick laughed again.Â
Seeing him like this felt triumphant. But the laugh was short-lived. You watched as Rickâs eyes drifted back towards the house, the now-empty porch. You knew that look. You had seen it on Rick a hundred times before the world ended, back when Lori would go quiet for a day or two and Rick would spend the whole time trying to figure out what heâd done wrong.Â
âFenceâll hold for now,â Shane said then, louder than necessary. âGotta check the north side. Dale said he heard somethinâ last night, but if you ask me thatâs just early onset amnesia.â
âJesus, whatâs your issue with the man? Heâs nice!â
âNice?! Lemme tell you sumtinâ man, okay, Daleâs obsessed with everybodyâs business!â
âYeah, okay, alright,â Rick raised both hands, careful not to have that discussion again. âYou want company?â
âNah. You finish here. Iâll take the kid.â
He jerked his head toward Carl, who was sitting in the grass beside the hay shed, looking bored out of his mind.
âOkay,â Rick said and that was that.
Shane started walking, but he only made it a few yards when you fell into step beside him, light and quick and still impossible to shake.Â
âYouâre limpinâ worse,â you said.
âIâm not limpinâ worse.â
âYou are. You ever heard of restinâ? You donât gotta do everything âround here, you know. Hershel will never thank you for it.â
Shane exhaled sharply through his nose. âYou ever consider becominâ a cop? âCause you got the observation skills for it.â
âNah. Too much paperwork. And Iâd have to arrest you for public indecency eventually.â
Shane stopped in his tracks. âWhat the hellâs that sâpposed to mean?â
âYou drink straight from the jug, Shane. Itâs gross.â
âAinât nobody else drinkinâ it!â
You laughed then and the look of utter indignation was gone from his face. You were just about the only person who could yank his chain like that and get away with it; hell, make him like it even. He picked up the pace and you followed.
âYouâre lucky youâre cute,â he muttered, trying his best to sound angry.Â
You knew him too well to buy it.
âCute?â you repeated.
âI said youâre goddamn annoyinâ, you mustâve heard wrong.â
âNo, Iâm pretty sure you said âcuteâ, which I am, by the way.â
âYouâre pretty sure a lotta things. Most of âem wrong.â
He stopped and so did you, watching his nostrils flare. You knew that back and forth made him want to shake you and kiss you at the same time. You were counting on it, in fact.
Shane opened his mouth to argue, but didnât. He could read you just as well as you could read him. He knew exactly what you were doing. He was quiet for a long moment, but at the same time that constant look of urgency in his eyes, the reflex to grab his gun, it all somehow⊠Eased up.
âToo many eyes,â he muttered.
âChrist, but those people have got you on a leash. You scared of a little gossip again?â
âIâm scared of your brother puttinâ a bullet in me before sundown.â
You snorted. âRickâs not gonna shoot you, you two are all brotherly again and itâs gross.â
âYeah? You sure about that?â
âYes,â you insisted. âIâm sure.â
You still looked at him like he hung the moon and Shane could feel a stupid grin trying to form on his face. He fought it, lost a little.Â
âNot here,â he said finally.
âThen where?â
He jerked his head toward the back pasture, where an old hay shed sat and where Carl played with two sticks. Poor kid.
âThere. After dark. Iâll volunteer for patrol.âÂ
So you came to the spot he had indicated when all the lights were out; the camp and the house settled into watchful silence, with T-Dog and Daryl checking the perimeter by the southern fence. Shane was already waiting by that shed with his arms crossed, trying to look like he wasnât waiting.
âDidn't think youâd show,â he lied.
âThen you don't know me at all,â you replied.
âWhat? Nah.â The corner of his mouth twitched. âReckon I know you betterân most.âÂ
He moved aside so you could enter the shed, then followed you in. The shed was an intimate space, perhaps would have felt even nicer if it wasnât smelling of mildew so much, but you kept reminding yourself this was the apocalypse. Nevertheless, Shane reached fr you the second you were near. You let him put his arm around you and he kissed the top of your head like he was trying to remind you both he thought of you as something precious. Something he had to protect.Â
âSo,â you muttered, looking down, but not moving away, not even a little. You could tell Shane wouldnât make a move any further. He was there with you but⊠Not with you.Â
âSomethinâ botherinâ you still, isnât it?â You sighed. âI can tell.âÂ
Shane didnât answer right away. His arm stayed around your shoulders for a moment longer, but in the end he stepped back first.
âItâs âcause I left Rick at that hospital,â he said finally. âWe havenât⊠Really had a conversation âbout it and every time Iâm about to tell him, itâs, uh, itâs Lori. Itâs like she donât want us alone together or sumtinâ.â
You tensed, because in your general experience that womanâs name was never followed by anything good.Â
âWhy would she do that?â you asked. âI mean, aside from the fact sheâs the fuckinâ devil anâ all.â
âChrist.â Shane shook his head and looked at you in exasperation. âWhatâs your problem with her?â
âHow much time dâyou have?â
âIâm serious.â
âSo am I.â
âNo, why do you hate her so much?â he asked. âReally.â
He could see you debating whether to answer.
âCome on,â he pressed, softer now. âItâs just us in here. You can say it.âÂ
Shane didnât really have to press you all that hard, though. You have told him bits and pieces along the years. Youâd visit King County for Christmas, Thanksgiving, family events, sometimes even birthdays. But over the years your visits became less and less frequent.
You were never allowed to take Carl anywhere, not unless Rick or Lori were present. During Thanksgiving, you usually just watched Rick and her having whisper-shouted arguments in the kitchen.Â
To you, the woman was ruining any real chances for what you knew Rick wanted deep down insideâtrue love, one that would accept his softer side and maybe, if he was lucky, would finally get him to grow a stronger backbone. If you were being really honest, Rick was your older brother, but sometimes he made you want to fight his battles for him.
Shane watched your internal debate with a fond expression. You had always been on the smaller side, but you carried yourself like someone twice your size when you were angry enough.Â
âShe never trusted me with Carl,â you said finally. âNot for a minute. Iâd come to visit for Christmas before, remember? Iâd ask to take him to the park, just down the damn street, and sheâd make some excuse. âHeâs tired.â âWe got plans.â âRickâs not home yet.â Always somethinâ. She made me feel awful about it, like I was some unstable crazy person she couldnât leave that kid alone with for five minutes.âÂ
âAnd Rick,â you sighed deeply, âheâd just let her do anything she wanted. Just let her decide on everythinâ all the time. Let her push him around, push me around, and then when they thought nobody was listeninâ, theyâd be in the kitchen screaminâ at each other in whispers. Every holiday. Every birthday. Sometimes it made me glad our Ma wasnât there to see Rick so brokenhearted.â
You looked up at Shane again, but he was avoiding your eyes now. Something you said must have rang true, that was the only reason heâd go as quiet as this.
âAnd she, she was always so fuckinâ miserable,â you continued, rolling your eyes. âNo matter what Rick did. That womanâs got a gift, Iâm tellinâ you. Even now. Iâve been watchinâ your group, tell me somethinâ, have you ever seen Lori do one damn chore? All she does is strut around with a sour look and ask everyone to watch Carl all the time. Includinâ that guy with the crossbow, who Iâm pretty sure makes more conversation with the boy in grunts than she ever does.â
Shane listened without interrupting. Mostly because there was nothing to interrupt that with. You had no way of knowing this and heâd never tell, but Shane still remembered that talk he and Rick had in the patrol car, on the day Rick got shot.Â
Over the years, Shane had seen Loriâs tight smiles and, if he was being honest, what he hated to see most was the way she would correct Rick in front of people. Heâd never let it stand if it were him. But he wouldnât tell you that either.
Except, if he was honest, he tried not to laugh at you mentioning Daryl, because he knew how much Dixon would hate that read.
âYeah,â he said finally, when you were all done. âI saw some of that.â
âYeah,â you scoffed. âI bet you did.â
He frowned. âWhatâs that sâpposed to mean?â
âIt means,â you took a deep breath, knowing this was getting into a dangerous territory of personal, âthe only person I never seen her do that shit to was you. Itâs like she wouldnât dare or somethinâ. Like she knew you wouldnât just take it like Rick does.â
Shane went very still. âYouâre readinâ too much into shit.â
âAm I?â
âYeah. You are.â
âSo you were friends?â
Shane shot you a look. âNot really, no. I took care of her anâ Carl âcause thatâs what Rick wouldâve wanted.â
You didnât say anything to that and even in the pale moonlight Shane could see the color rise in your cheeks.
âWhy do you care?â he asked. âYou worried about Rick? Or you worried âbout somethinâ else?âÂ
âDonât do that,â you said quietly.
âDo what?â
âTurn it around. Make it about me.â
He laughed. âDarlinâ, everythingâs about you with me lately. Ainât exactly a secret.â
He was close now. Close enough to reach out and touch you, and he did. Your hand found his in the dark and you laced your fingers together.
After another tense moment, Shane said your name, but you wouldnât speak, you were all talked-out.Â
âCâmon, babygirl, say somethinâ. Anythinâ.â
So, finally, you put your arms around his neck andâ
âWhat in Godâs name is goinâ on here?!âÂ
It was Rick, using his best Deputy tone.
Shane went still against you so fast it was like somebody flipped a switch. He stepped back, but it was too late. The door to that shed was half-opened anyway and youâve been caught.Â
âLook manâŠâ he said, and his tone was already guilty as hell.
Rick stood about ten feet away, just at the edge of the porch. He looked⊠Not angry. Not yet. Confused, maybe.Â
âI asked you a question,â Rick insisted.Â
Shane finally turned to face him. âWasnât what itââ He stopped himself. âYeah, okay. It was what it looked like.âÂ
Rick didnât move. Just looked from Shane to you and back again.
âMy sister,â Rick said, his expression shifting into something darker, âand you. What the hell, Shane?!â Â
âI know,â Shane said and stepped outside.Â
âOh, so you know?â Rickâs voice was slowly rising. âGood, just as long as we all fuckinâ know then! You, get in the house.â
That last part was for you. You could tell now the camp wasnât even pretending not to listen. Everybody was. Including Lori, standing by the front door, with her arms crossed over her chest again. If you were a mentalist, perhaps youâd connect the gesture to some hidden meaning.
But, as things stood, you were busted. You had bigger things to worry about. Like Shane and Rick arranging a pistol duel on top of the hill at midnight or something equally stupid. You wouldnât put it past them.
âInside,â Rick said again, like he was giving you an order.
You didnât move at first and so Shane nudged your shoulder.
âGo,â he murmured. âAinât gonna help nobody standinâ here givinâ âem a show.âÂ
So you walked towards the house, past the tents and whoever had crawled out of them for the evening program. You didnât look at Lori when you entered the house, even though you could already tell she wanted to say something to you. The screen door slapped shut behind you.Â
âAlright,â Shane said. âYou wanna do this? Letâs do it. But not here. Not with every asshole in camp listeninâ in.âÂ
Rick scoffed. âYou donât get to decide where we do this, Shane. Not after I just found you like that.â
A few people in the camp looked embarrassed, but nobody moved.Â
âYeah,â Shane said, louder. âYou caught us holdinâ hands. Congratulations. Now unless you want me to stand here and draw you a pictureââ
Rick walked up to him and for a second Shane thought he was going to hit him, too. Which he probably would have let happen anyway.Â
âBarn,â Rick said finally. âNow.âÂ
He started walking. Shane hesitated, glancing once towards the house, then he limped after Rick.Â
âWhatâs going on?â Maggie asked you as soon as you were inside.Â
You groaned and shook your head. âMy brother and his best friend are gonna kill each other in the barn for my honor or somethinâ.â
As soon as you said it, Maggie paled.Â
âNO!â she shouted and ran out that door, leaving you stunned.Â
Shane had just caught up to Rick when Maggie burst out the front door shrieking like she was burning alive.
âNo! Stop!â She flew past the few people by the porch, waving her arms urgently.Â
As soon as he saw her, barefoot, in her pajamas, Shaneâs hand went to his Glock before his brain caught up.
Maggie didnât stop. She ran past them for the barn.Â
âWhat the hell?â Rick asked. âMaggie?â
Shane was already moving. He broke into a limping stride after her, fast as he could make himself go. Rick was right beside him now. Whatever was about to happen between them in that barn, it sure as shit was going to have to wait.
âMaggie!â Shane shouted. âStop!â
She didnât. She reached the barn doors and threw herself against the heavy wooden bar. But she was just one woman and the doorâŠÂ
The door was rattling.Â
Something inside was thrashing, hammering against the wood.Â
And groaning.
âMaggie, get away from there!â Shane shouted.
He pulled his Glock and racked the slide.
âNo, you donât understand!â She shouted, absolutely terrified. âYou canât open it, you canât seeâŠ!â
The door split in between from the rattling motion and then grey, dead fingers punched through the gap, grasping at nothing. Maggie screamed and finally stepped away from the door.Â
Rick had his gun out too now, looking pale. âHow many?â he demanded.
âPlease,â Maggie sobbed. âPlease, just⊠Dad said we could fix them, he said theyâre sick, he saidââ
âHOW MANY?!â Shane roared and Maggie looked at him with absolute hatred.
The question was redundant by now. The whole barn was moving, two dozen bodies or more throwing themselves against the walls with wet, raspy snarling.Â
Shane moved then. He grabbed Maggie by the arm and yanked her back further from the door. She fought him, but Shane pushed her backwards behind Rick.
âRick, get her outta here!â Shane ordered. âNow!âÂ
âHey!â Maggie protested. âYou donât give me orders!â
âShane, wait a damn minute, you donât tell meââ
âRICK!â Shane shoved Maggie at him, hard enough that Rick had to catch her. âGet her back to the house and wake EVERYBODY up! We got a herd in a box ten feet from where your son sleeps!âÂ
Rickâs mouth snapped shut. Just for that moment, the fight between them was done and buried.
âOkay,â Rick decided, stepping back into his Deputy role. âBut weâre gonna need every gun and every knife this farmâs got.â
That last one was directed at Maggie, who was still conflicted.Â
âDonât just stand there, Rick, go!â Shane shouted.
Rick finally ran back to the house, hauling Maggie with him. As soon as they were gone, Shaneâs eyes were back on the trembling barn door, Glock up and ready. He tried to remember how many rounds the mag still held, but on second thought decided to leave that be.
The wooden door still held, barely, the bar groaning against the iron brackets. Dead fingers clawed out and Shane counted at least four hands before he stopped himself from thinking about that, too.
âGoddamn it,â Shane hissed through his teeth. âGod fuckinâ damn it!â
Then, he heard people running behind him and he exhaled. He saw Daryl, half-dressed, holding his crossbow up. Rick and T-Dog were right behind him, guns in hand. Dale was limping after them with a rifle and for some reason Andrea was with him as well. Shane groaned.
âWhat the hell is in there?!â Andrea shouted.Â
âWhat the fuck dâ you think?!â Shane roared, pointing with his Glock to the trembling barn door. âHershelâs been keepinâ pets!â
T-Dogâs eyes went wide. âYou serious?â
âDo I look like Louis fuckinâ C.K. to you?!â
Rick wasnât speaking, which in Shaneâs experience meant he was thinking of a plan. Sure enough, his former partner looked around the area and finally focused on something. Shane glanced that way. There was a wooden wagon maybe fifteen feet away, one wheel missing, but he supposed it was heavy enough.Â
âWhatâre you thinkinâ man?â Shane asked, voice a bit steadier.
âWe donât have enough ammo for all of them.â Rick held his hand up. âEveryone, help me get that wagon over here, now! And fetch every piece of wood, every rope, every fuckinâ thing you can find!âÂ
They moved. It made something ugly in Shaneâs gut twist when he watched them listen to Rick so unquestioningly. But then the barn rattled again and so he ignored it, for now.
T-Dog grabbed one side of the wagon, Andrea the other, and together with Rick they dragged it across the dirt towards the doors.Â
âShane!â Dale called, still clutching that rifle. âHow many?âÂ
Shane didnât speak for a while. âTwenty, maybe more,â he said finally. âAnâ I still say we oughta shoot âem before they eat us.â
âNah, look at what happened at the quarry.â T-Dog shook his head. âWe start shootinâ, every goddamn walker from the areaâll come runninâ. Then what?â
Shane felt his sanity slipping. âSo what, we just have a fuckinâ sleepover?!âÂ
âHe didnât say that,â Rick cut in, his hand raised towards Shane like he was pacifying a horse. âT-Dog, help me push that thing closer.â
The wagon thumped against the doors.
âThis better work, âs all Iâm sayinâ,â Shane muttered, shaking his head.
âThatâs not gonna hold,â Andrea said.
âYou got a suggestion, Iâm all ears!â T-Dog straightened, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
âShane, we canât justââ Andrea started.
âCanât what?â
âI donât know, shouldnât we talk before we storm the fuckinâ gates?!â
âJesus Christ, did we ask for a committee?!â Shane shouted. âYou got an idea or you donât, otherwise donât piss me off!âÂ
âI got somethinâ that might help,â Dale said then and trotted towards the tents. Shane didnât bother with whatever the hell this even was.
âAlright,â Rick said, his voice cutting through the argument. âAlright, we canât have a shootout, T-Dogâs right. We chain it. Anything iron in this damn farm, we wrap around these handles and the wagon frame. Dale, check the stables for rope or chain. Andrea, you go with him.â
âYeah, yeah. Okay. Daryl,â Shane called.
âYeah?â
âYou got bolts enough for twenty?â
âNot a fuckinâ chance,â Daryl said, squinting at the barn. âBut I got a hatchet anâ a knife. Thatâs two, maybe three âfore the rest come down on me.â
âYeah, youâre a real comfort, dâyou know that?â
Daryl shot Shane a look. âJust beinâ honest.â
In the meantime, T-Dog came back, hauling a rusted chain with Rick. âFound this in the tractor shed. Ainât much, but itâs somethinâ.â
âToss it here.â
They worked together. Shane looped the chain through the door handles and around the wagon axle, yanking it tight. In the meantime, Dale came back from the camp, carrying the rope Shane had seen him fidget with some days earlier.Â
âGot it!â Dale exclaimed, then together with Andrea they doubled it around the frame, knotting it with sailor knots.
âGood work,â Rick said, taking a step back to watch the door again.
âWhere the hellâs Hershel?â Shane cut in.
Nobody answered.Â
Shane scrubbed a hand across his face. âThen Iâll ask again. Where the hell is Hershel?âÂ
âDonât look at me,â Daryl muttered, crossbow steady. âAinât his keeper.â
âOld manâs probably inside,â Andrea said, glancing toward the farmhouse.
âSomebody get him,â Shane ordered. âNow.â
Dale stepped forward. âOkay. Iâll go.â
âNo,â Rick said. âIâll go. You stay here, help them hold that door. Shaneââ
âYeah, Iâm stayinâ right here,â Shane said.
Rick hesitated, just for a moment, and Shane took it like a slap to the face. He was competent enough to hold this door, damn it.
âJust go,â Shane urged him. âWe got unfinished business, it ainât gonna be finished now, not with that hanginâ over our heads.â
âYeah, alright,â Rick said, giving Shane one last look that Shane really couldnât decipher. And he used to know Rick better than anyoneâŠ
âGo find Hershel,â he urged him. âWeâll deal with the rest after.âÂ
Rick nodded, turned and jogged toward the house.Â
The door rattled again and half a walkerâs head forced through the gap, grey face split open. Andrea made a choking sound and nearly fell backwards when retreating.
Shane didnât think. He stepped in, pressed the Glock to the thingâs temple and pulled the trigger.
The crack of the gunshot resonated everywhere. Everything went still, but then the barn erupted. The walkers inside threw themselves at the doors with fresh frenzy.Â
âGoddamn it, Shane!â T-Dog shouted.
âIt was cominâ through!â Shane roared back.
âTheyâre all cominâ now! Every walker for a mileâs fuckinâ cominâ!â
Shane knew it. He knew it the second his finger pulled the trigger. But there was no unringing this bell now.
âThen we hold âem!â he shouted. âAnd we clear this barn at first light!â
âYou step aside right now! That is my family in there!â
Shane spun around and saw Hershel running towards them in a nightshirt and trousers, shotgun desperately clutched to his side.Â
Rick was beside him, hand on the old manâs arm, trying to hold him back. To his dismay, Maggie followed with you in tow. Your hair was messy and you looked shocked beyond belief.Â
That shock made Shane a little less angry. At least you werenât stupid enough to have known about the barn and keep it from him.Â
âWhatâs in there is a goddamn time bomb,â T-Dog said, pointing to the barn.Â
Hershelâs face twisted with grief. âYou donât understand. Theyâre sick. They can be healed, thereâs research being done, the CDCââ
âThe CDC is ashes!â Shane shouted. âWe were there! There ainât no cure, old man, and every second you keep these things here, youâre puttinâ every last one of us in danger!â
âYou shot one of them!â
âIt was cominâ through the door!â
âYou put that gun down,â Hershel said, his voice shaking. âOr so help me God, I will remove you from my land.â
Shane didnât move, but the sneer he made ugly. He could feel everyoneâs eye fixed on him and it only pissed him off more.
He took another step toward Hershel. âYou asked me to ride out with you tomorrow,â Shane said. âCheck on neighbors. Supplies. Livestock. I was startinâ to trust you. Started thinkinâ maybe this place could work. And the whole time you had Aunt Edna and Cousin Jimmy chained up in the attic like a family secret. Puttinâ all of us at risk! All of us!âÂ
Hershelâs face went red from anger. Shane saw Rick step beside him, ready to intervene.Â
âThey are not monsters,â Hershel said. âThey are sick people. My family. My neighbors! Men and women I knew. I owe them more than a bullet in the head from some lawman who lost his soul!âÂ
Shane let out a humorless laugh.Â
âLost my soul?â he repeated. âYou wanna talk about souls now? Fine.â
âShane, thatâs enough.â Rick moved between them, one hand up towards Hershel, the other pressing against Shaneâs chest. âBack down. Now.â
Shaneâs eyes snapped to Rick, full of that familiar anger that fueled him when he had no will to even keep on going.Â
âYou backinâ him? After what we just saw?âÂ
Rick looked at him sternly. âIâm backinâ not gettinâ anybody shot tonight.âÂ
For a long moment, nobody moved. But the barn door shook and the dead, they never tired.Â
Thenâ
âMove!â Your voice cut through and Shane turned to see you and Maggie running together, each holding a chicken. He didnât even notice you were gone.
For a moment, Shane thought he was hallucinating, but no. There you were, determined and quick, your years of running track allowing you to sprint towards that barn within seconds.Â
âJesus Christ, get away from there!â Shaneâs attention was now entirely on you and he approached in long strides, as fast as his injured leg allowed.Â
But you didnât listen. You climbed the ladder by the side of the barn, then dropped the chicken through the skylight. You reached for Maggie and she handed you another. The poor thing also landed inside.Â
For a moment, nothing happened. You stood on top of that ladder and made Shane almost lose his mind.Â
âGod fuckinâ damn it, get down from here right now!â Rick shouted then, worried beyond belief.Â
Then, the door stopped shaking. The walkers got busy, the screams of the chickens quickly cut short.Â
You looked down at Rick, then at Shane, still panting slightly. Very slowly, you got down.
âMaggie told me everything while you three were screaminâ at each other,â you said. âTheyâve been feedinâ them so they stayed quiet. And they will stay quiet if we get away from here and stop yellinâ.â
While Rick still looked at you in utter disbelief, Shane wasnât backing down.Â
âPut the damn gun down,â you said to Shane, quieter, using your gentlest tone.
You moved closer to him and he lowered his head to you on instinct. Like he was trying to shrink himself down. Then, you did something Shane never expectedâyou placed your hand on his cheek and you said something only he could hear now.Â
No surrender, baby.Â
You knew Rick would kill you for this. That was the thing Shane said to you before your last high school track meet. You were stressed out of your mind and too embarrassed to ask Rick to comfort you, but Shane somehow saw it in your face. He found you before the event and put you back together.
You knew that right now everyone from Shaneâs group was looking at you like you were crazy, but you didnât care. They didnât have to get Shane. They didnât have to get how you felt.
Shane turned his face and leaned into your palm. He stood frozen for half a second, the last wet sounds of the walker feast still audible in the quiet of the night.Â
âAre you outta your goddamn mind?!â he hissed, and you could hear the panic in his voice. âYou canâtââ he started, then couldnât even say it. âYou canât do shit like that. Not in front of me. I canât, you⊠Youâre gonna be the death of me,â he whispered. âYou know that?âÂ
It was the most tenderness he would allow himself, what with every pair of eyes in the camp still on you both.Â
Andrea made an odd sound then and Shane pulled back, quick as lightning. He turned to face the rest of themâRick with the look of utter hurt and disbelief about him, Hershel still gripping that shotgun, Maggie looking at you with a smirk, Daryl standing off to the side looking the most uncomfortable Shane had ever seen him.
âAlright,â Shane said. âTheyâre fed. Theyâre quiet. That buys us time. But this ainât over.â
He looked at Hershel, then at Rick.
âSunrise,â Shane said. âWe deal with this at sunrise. We open those doors, we clear âem out, and we burn whatâs left. Every last one.â
Hershel shook his head. âYouâll do it over my dead body.â
âDonât tempt me.â
âShane. Just stop. Think.â Rick stepped closer, his tone sharp.Â
âJesus fuckinâ Christ,â you sighed and cut in. âWe canât have a shootout. Get it into that thick skull of yours.âÂ
That whole tenderness from before was gone. You moved closer to Shane and took his hand in yours to redirect him. âShootinâ them is a dumb fuckinâ idea. Itâs too much noise. Us talkinâ out here right now is way too much noise.â
âSheâs got a point there,â Dale muttered, still looking at Shane like he was a rabid dog.Â
âYou got somethinâ else to say, Dale?â Shane snarled. âOr you just gonna stand there lookinâ at me like Iâm about to bite somebody?âÂ
Dale raised both hands. âJust agreeing with the lady. Noise brings âem in. We all know it.âÂ
Shaneâs grip on your hand tightened. He still wouldnât let go.
âYou fire that Mossberg,â you said quietly, âevery walker in a five-mile radius comes to dinner. You really want that?âÂ
Shaneâs tongue ran over his teeth. He glanced at the barn, at the wagon still wedged against the door. The walkers were calm⊠For now. Â
The others around you seemed to have calmed down as well, even if that whole situation was starting to be awkward. Andrea still looked at you in slight awe and you knew why.
âItâs like sheâs a Shane whisperer or somethinâ,â she said to Dale, not even bothering to be quiet.
âFine,â Shane said, raising his voice so the others could hear. âNo shootinâ. Not tonight. But that barn gets dealt with. First light, we figure out how to clear it. Knives, hatchets, arrows, whatever donât make a racket. Daryl, can you make more bolts?â
Hershel made a strangled sound. âYou cannot do this!â
âShane,â Rick raised his hand, trying to pacify his former partner. âIâll hgandle this. Câmon,â he said to Hershel. âWe can talk âbout this calmly in the morninâ.â
Shaneâs mouth flattened into a hard line. You knew why. He didnât like backing off. Seems like if it was up to him, he wouldnât let Rick step in and handle anything. You were beginning to get sick of their rivalry.
âFine,â Shane said finally and you all collectively exhaled. âBut Iâm tellinâ you right now, sun comes up, that barn gets cleared. I donât care if I gotta do it alone.â
âAlright, showâs over!â Rick said quickly, using the momentum of Shane backing down. âDoubt any of usâll get any sleep tonight so I say we set up watch. Shane anâ Iâll take the first rotation. Andrea, you and Dale after.â
You were expecting an argument, but there was none from Shane. His spine was rigid and his jaw clenched hard. You knew he wanted to punch something, but for some reason he kept quiet. Pacified. The rest of the group dispersed, talking amongst themselves in hushed voices.
Finally, he turned to you.
âDonât you ever pull a stunt like that on me again. You hear me?â
Your eyes widened. He squeezed your shoulder hard.Â
âYeah,â you muttered. âYou said.â
âBut I fuckinâ mean it. You get killed, this whole thing was for nothinâ.â
âShane,â Rick said quietly. You realized he was, of course, still standing there.Â
âYou wanna do this right now?â Shane asked.
âI think now.â
Shane finally turned away from you. Rick glanced towards the house, then back at Shane and you. At your apparent proximity. You saw only then how tired your brother was, how tightly his brow was furrowed.Â
âAlright,â you said, deciding to remove yourself from the confrontation. âIâll⊠Go and check if Iâm not at the house or somethinâ.â
