REAL

REAL

Sometimes I just wanna read Tony Stark x reader fluff:((

When you just want to read fluffs but theres a shit ton of smut of the character:

my queen

˗ˏˋ TAYLOR SWIFT All Too Well: The Short Film (Behind The Scenes)

WHY IS THIS SO TRUE

Jude literally stabbed her own hand, murdered someone, and poisoned herself, but was still scared of a skinny white boy with the inability to stay sober

the way i adore this

|| Crosshairs ||

Frank Castle x reader x Matt Murdock

Warnings: swearing, ass worship if you squint, allusions to smut, idiots in love.

Author's note: feel free to read Perfect For Me for reader's previous lesson with Frank, and Overstimulation if you want Easter egg detail on the boys' previous Tête à Tête…

Art: Declan Shalvey.

"Alright. Now, this is a little different from the targets you've been shootin' at so far, so listen carefully to what I tell ya. "

"Mmm. And what a target it is." You grinned, looking through the rifle sight at the best ass in Hell's Kitchen.

Frank chuckles, "Yep, but remember he probably won't let you anywhere near it after this…"

You laugh a little too loud. "Yeah, these paintballs sting like fuck."

He laughs quietly before shushing you. "Heheh, okay, don't want Bat-ears hearin' us and ruinin' our fun do we?"

You shake your head.

"How did you know he'd be here?" You ask. The Kitchen wasn't huge but there were any number of rooftops or alleys where Matt could have been out patrolling.

"Told him to meet me there in about a half hour's time."

You tilted your head. "And he just shows up, no question?"

Frank hums. "Bout a year back, I made our little devil completely lose his shit on that there rooftop. S'kinda an anniversary, I guess." He smiles at the memory.

"Oh, you never told me this story! You are so spilling the T on this to me later…"

"Mm, maybe." He looks down his own scope. "What variables you got, sugar? List em off."

You push that intriguing little relationship nugget aside for the time being and refocus for a few seconds, recalling everything you already know and everything Frank's taught you. You love your lessons with him, they're so different to Matt's although some elements converge.

"Well, it's a moving target this time, the distance, the wind direction and speed?"

Frank nods. "Good, and don't forget the fact your target is your boyfriend…"

"Yeah, our boyfriend." you muse, watching Matt crouched up on the edge of the building far in front of you, suddenly reconsidering what you were about to do. "Hmm, maybe we shouldn't…"

"Hey, don't get all soft on him now, he knows you need this kinda practice. I'm pretty sure he'll forgive you and you can put the blame on me princess, don't worry."

He was right. And besides, owning an ass like that was completely unfair. You lick your finger and hold it up to the wind, ignoring Frank's amused smile. You readjust your position and the rifle, getting comfortable and tracking Matt as he slinks off to the right of the rooftop. Then you yelp silently, almost dropping the gun as Frank's hand squeezes your own ass hard.

"Hey!"

"You forgot one more variable sweetheart - me distractin' you." He smirks as you throw him a scowl and try to relocate your target.

"Okay okay, you big goof. I'm tryin' to be professional here, now let me do this." You inhale deeply, setting your sight on Matt's perfect butt and silently hoping that blue paint would wash out of his suit.

Frank's voice is low and sweet near your ear. "Remember, slow breath out, squeeze the trigger, don't pull it."

You exhale, fire, and immediately duck down behind the low wall of the roof edge.

"Fuck! Did I get him? Did I?" You excitedly quiz Frank who's assessing your work.

A slow smile creeps across his lips.

"Oh yeah..." He drawls.

You giggle. "Is he pissed?"

Frank starts hurriedly packing up his rifle, grabbing yours too. "Yep, more than I thought he'd be. I'd say we've got about 3 minutes to get the hell off this roof and disappear."

Your face paled. "Shit, Frank! Shit!"

Getting hunted down by the Devil was a thrill you'd experienced once before but on this particular occasion it was not one you were keen to repeat. You swore you could still feel the bite marks. You much preferred being the biter.

Frank handed you the guns. "Take these, get on home. I'll stall him."

You raise a brow. "A romantic rooftop reprise?"

"You're not the only one vulnerable to my distractions." Frank winks. "I'll soften him up some…"

You lean forward kissing him hastily on the lips. "I'm just sorry I won't be there to see it. Happy anniversary, I love you both, and good luck!"

"Seeya at home princess." He calls after you. "Better have that first aid kit ready…"

You roll your eyes and bolt down the fire escape, into the alley and around the corner leaving your lovers to a fight or fuck game of roulette under the stars.

Taglist: @divinearchangel @saintmurd0ck @castlesnchurches @mindidjarin @hellskitchenswhore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @shedaresthedevil @freshabogados

@father4giveme @stress--relief @e-dubbc11 @whistle1whistle @tea-and-wine @emiemiemiii @imherefordeanandbones @i-simp-much @phoebe-danvers @munsonownsmyass

It’s not a want, it’s a gut-wrenching need

You know what? We need the cruel prince trilogy from Cardan's POV. I need to know his thoughts and his feelings throughout all three books. I need to see how much he longed for Jude, how much he missed her when she was in the undersea, I need his POV from those most wretched hours when he believed she would never return to him, i need it!!!

This is so amazing. I love it so so much.

AND FOR MY NEXT TRICK:

off that soft prompts list - tracing your lover’s scars, but matt x reader x frank and not just reader doing it, but guiding matt’s hands over frank’s body and the reverse 🥺🥺🥺🥺

do with that what you will polygodmother 💗

be still and feel my beating heart

let's have a sleepover at mine!

pairing: frank castle x reader x matt murdock

a/n: thank you so much for this wonderful ask, kay my darling. this was so beautiful and so soft; i'm sorry it turned out way angstier than intended but... enjoy anyway. 🥺

song pairing: dear august (pj harding & noah cyrus)

The howling wind seems to quieten as your fingers dance across Frank's chest, smooth skin and hardened muscle giving way to a ringed scar that ebbs underneath your fingertips.

You loose a heavy breath. "If you ever had the chance to heal this completely, would you take it?" Would you heal the mark and bear it internally instead?

Frank stills, as if your very question prods red-hot into the centre of his soul.

Heat blooms across your face as remorse surges through your veins. "I don't mean–"

"No. Never."

Matt props himself up with an elbow, shoving the covers off in the process. "Because the scars keep them alive, preserve their memory."

Frank's eyes flutter shut as the pit in your stomach opens up, eddying with shame and bitterness. With the guilt of asking the question. Or the fact that you thought about it in the first place.

Your heart sinks a little further as Frank's hand rests against your own, pressing it flat against the mark. "I'm forgetting things," he says, voice lowered to a near-whisper. "I can't remember her laugh. Or the way" —his voice breaks— "the kids would run up to me after school."

The three of you are silent for a second, interrupted only by a gust of wind that brushes up against the vaulted windows. He circles the scar gently. "That's uh— that's not even because of them. Got that one in Kandahar."

Matt swallows, reaching over to clasp his hand over Frank's. And yours. "Doesn't matter where or how you got it, Frank. You bleed the same. You bleed for them."

"That's right," Frank mutters, nodding his head slowly; the movement barely discernible in the dark.

Matt leans into his touch, gripping the both of you tightly. "You fight for them every single day. That's all you can do, and you do it, over and over again, without a second thought. They're proud of you, Frank. Of this life you've created, of the way you honour them."

Frank inhales sharply as you squeeze him, holding him as close to you as humanly possible. "And what about you, Red?"

"My scars?"

"Yeah. D'ya think you'd erase 'em, if you could?"

Matt purses his lips, tilting his chin to the ceiling. He seems poised to answer the question, but you know the expression on his face. He's deep in thought, and it's more than likely he's sifting through the memories of every cicatrix he's ever worn.

"I don't know," he murmurs, chewing on his lip. "On one hand, I'd get less questions, but on the other..." You press a kiss to Frank's shoulder as your hand now settles on the plane of Matt's stomach, hoping your touch offers him some semblance of support. He breathes a quick 'thank you' before continuing. "On the other hand, they remind me the fight is real. That everything I've done has been worth it, in some way or another."

You run your fingers through his hair, sensing the words he's left unsaid. "There's more, isn't there, Matt?"

"Hm?"

"They're a living reminder of your pain."

Matt turns his head away, as if to shield himself from the truth. "Yeah. So maybe I deserve it."

Frank wastes no time in cupping Matt's jaw, bringing his head back to face in the right direction, grumbling his disagreement in the process. "S'bullshit, Red. Absolute bullshit if I've ever heard it."

"Glad you think so, Castle," Matt scoffs, every word clipped.

You swipe a thumb over Matt's cheek, trailing your fingers down the side of his neck, earning a shudder in response.

"C'mere, Frank," you mumble, guiding his touch towards the long scar on Matt's stomach; the one given to him by Nobu.

Matt stifles a groan as the callouses of Frank's fingers scrape gently over his skin, then again as Frank's lips trace the outlines of the twin marks adorning his chest.

Your next words come out mumbled, dispersed amongst kisses that flutter down Frank's back. "You, my darling Matthew, bleed for Hell's Kitchen. And God knows the city's safer for it, so let your scars be a reminder of all the good you’ve done."

“That’s right, Red,” Frank adds. “‘Sides, you got us now, and I don’t want your sad Catholic boy act. You’ve done good. Hell, better than I ever could.”

As the world around the three of you begins to fade away, intercepted only by Matt’s hushed argument-in-response, you think about it for a second: how it'd well and truly take a lifetime to kiss every single scar flecking their bodies.

You might as well start right now.