sunflowersandsapphires
Thinking about: Matt Murdock and Frank Castle
Saph/Leah, 23, she/her, Charlie Cox Enthusiast, I'm also on AO3 as SunnySapph :) minors DNI
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↳ ᴘᴇᴛᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛɪɢʟɪᴏɴᴇ 2
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For the @daredevilexchange fanweek! The prompt I chose today is “All we can do is our best, and sometimes the best we can do is start over.” Frank tries. He tries to start over as Pete Castiglione, but finds out all too soon he can’t escape his old life so easily.
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SO CUTE!!! I absolutely loved this. Comforting Mikey is the best Mikey.
Finding You||Chapter 4
Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings/tags: pinning, childhood trauma, eldest daughter syndrome, mention of emotional abuse, mentions of SA
A/N: Enjoy this chapter, you guys. Comments and reblogs are always welcomed, greatly advised and strongly appreciate.
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Tag list: @marytheweefrenchie; @sunflowersandsapphires; @schneeflocky; @danzer8705; @ebathory997;
@shouldbestudying41; @lulukings92
Dividers by @cafekitsune
“Hiya,” Bessie, your coworker, greeted you as you sat in her car. “How are ya today?”
“Better,” you smiled while buckling your seatbelt.
Your smile didn’t reach your eyes. It just couldn’t. And if Bessie noticed, she said nothing. Or maybe, she truly didn’t see the difference. It didn’t matter anyway. You just wanted to get through your day.
You had gone through your morning, getting ready for work, on autopilot. Trying to shake off that feeling of dread that had taken residence in the pit of your stomach. The nightmare had unsettled you, threw you off balance. It was just a terrifying dream. You let out a shaky breath before sipping your coffee. Your heart, beneath your ribcage, was thumping irregularly. It went from too fast to too slow. You were too much aware of your heart fluttering under your ribcage. And that feeling of impending doom was plaguing you, making it hard to breathe. Your chest felt tight, your lungs were struggling to expand as though there wasn’t enough room for them in your chest.
When you stepped out of your house, you made sure your door was locked at least twice. Ensuring that no one would walk into your home while you were gone for work. You pushed out a sigh. Your eyes moved to your next-door neighbor’s house. Somehow, you were slightly disappointed not to see him that morning. You didn’t know what good it would do to even catch a glimpse of him. It wasn’t as though you would spill all of your secrets, your fears, the story of your broken families. In some twisted ways, thinking about the criminal next door, had brought you comfort the night before. And seeing him that morning may have brought more. But he wasn’t there.
You let out a deep breath, reaching into your pockets. You pulled out fifty euros and handed them to Bessie. She jus looked at you confused.
“What’s that for?” She asked you.
“Petrol.” You replied.
“No, no, thanks but—ya don’t have to.” Bessie shook her head, refusing the money.
“Take it, Bessie.” You insisted. “You’ve been picking me up for months, the least I can do is to pay for petrol.”
Bessie took the money and shoved it in her pockets. It wasn’t the first time you had offered her money for the trouble. You didn’t have a car and she was driving you to work every day. You were aware that cars didn’t run for free. So, it was only natural and sensible to give her some money for petrol. And whether she liked or not, you would keep on doing it.
You moved through your day on autopilot, answering calls, filing up insurance claims. A deep sigh pushed past your lips.
“Hiya, love,” Bessie pulled a chair to sit next to you, in your cubicle.
“Hey,” You smiled at her. “Can I help you with anything?”
“No,” she shook her head. “I just wanted to check on ya.”
“Oh, that’s nice.” You smiled at her. You lifted one of your shoulders in a shrug. “I’m alright.”
“Are ya? Really?” Her eyes roamed your face.
You pushed out a sigh, and turned to face her. “I’m fine, I’m just—dealing with some family stuff. That’s all.”
“Ah, family, yeah?” Bessie nodded. “There’s nothing more fucking complicated.”
You scoffed. “Tell me about it.”
“Wanna talk about it?” She asked you softly.
You exhaled deeply. “I don’t even want to think about it. So, no. Not really. But thanks.”
If you could forget about it all, you would. Blocking their numbers may have stopped the calls, but it did not erase this plaguing feeling of dread, in the pit of your stomach. As though something terrible was about to happen. You just didn’t know what or when.
You dropped your keys on the kitchen counter. You pushed out a long breath. You dropped in your couch. Your stomach dropped at the sound of your ringtone. Your heart raced beneath your ribcage. You stood up on shaky legs to pick it up. It was silly to be afraid of your own phone. You had blocked their numbers, so it couldn’t be any of them calling you, right? You reached in your bag with shaky hands. By the time you fished out your phone, it had stopped ringing. It rang again. You gasped and flinched. Reading the caller ID, you let out an annoyed groaned. It was your brother Dave.
“What do you want?” You answered the call.
“Well, hello to you too, sis.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm.
“What do you want?” You repeated, angrily.
“Well, your phone’s working. So, I was wondering why you weren't answering Mom.”
“Because I don’t want to talk to her.” You shot back. “It is as simple as that.”
“Look, you need to talk to mom.” He spoke.
“Why the fuck I would want that, now?” Your heart beating faster with anger.
“We only heard one side of the story, okay?” He argued with you. “You don’t know half of the things Dad put her through.”
“I don’t need to know.” You told him. “I don’t want to know. I don’t care.”
“You should care. Especially, after everything you put her through.” He hissed at you, through the line.
“I put her through. I put her—” You exhaled through your nose, running a hand on your forehead. “Riddle me this, brother. How did you go from hating her to defending her? When she walked out on us, you told everyone that she was dead. And now, you want me to talk to her. Why?”
“She is our mother.” He said. “And I was a kid. You need to make amends for the lies you told Dad. For the things you put her through.”
“How dare you?” You snapped, slamming your free hand on the counter. “How dare you defend her of all people?”
“You knew better than to spread stories.”
“I was a child and he was being a creep.” You said through gritted teeth. “You don’t get to tell me that there were stories. You don’t get to make demands regarding our mother. You want her in your life, fine. But you don’t get to force me to make room in mine just because she’s mom.” Your veins were boiling with rage. “And don’t ever call me on her behalf, ever again.”
You hung up the phone before he could reply. You didn’t need this. You took a deep breath before grabbing a glass from your cabinet. You filled it with water in an attempt to slow your own heartrate, to calm yourself down. To let go of the anger, your brother just put you in. How dare he make demands? How dare he diminish what your mother had done to you? How dare he call what happened to you stories and lies? Your brother was clearly taking your mother’s side on things. You hated him for it because you knew you would never do that to him.
You roared and threw the glass. It smashed into the wall, breaking in tiny pieces, water spreading everywhere. Tears pressed against your eyes; “shit,” you cursed quietly. Your throat clogged up; frustration was clawing in your chest. You couldn’t believe that your own brother called you a liar. That he was ready to tarnish your father’s character, to defend her.
You crouched down to pick up the broken glass. Your heart was hurting. You loved your brother, you did. So, why couldn’t he just do this one thing for you? Why couldn’t he just respect that you didn’t want a relationship with your mother? You respected his choice of having one with her. The least he could do was to respect that you didn’t. A knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts, startling, and causing you to cut your hand with a broken shard.
“Coming;” you yelled through the door; you threw the broken pieces you had already gathered before opening the door.
Michael had an appointment with a councilor that day. He had been hopeful before it. He knew that getting access to Anna would be a long and difficult process. He knew that. But it had not seemed impossible. At least, not in the way Donal Creehan had described it. If he stayed out of trouble, had a job, he would have a chance to see Anna. To have her back in his life. And he did all of that.
It all had been pointless.
His hopes had been snuffed out, like one would a candle. How could they think that him having access to Anna would harm her in any way? He would never let anything happen to her. She was his daughter. The only person that really mattered. All he ever wanted was to see her. They didn’t allow her to visit him in prison. And now they would use it against him, saying that he had not seen her in eight years. Of course, he had not, they didn’t allow it.
They were going to use this and his past, his family name, and his family’s business to keep Anna away from him. Getting a job, staying away from trouble had all been for nothing. He was already condemned and punished for being a Kinsella. Leaving him no chance to prove that he could be a good father to his daughter. It was all hopeless.
What was the point of saying no to Jimmy? What was the point of it all? Whether he had a honest and proper job or he went back working with his family, it wouldn’t change anything. He would not be allowed to see her. He knew that. His councilor may had said that it wouldn’t be easy, implying that he might still have a chance. But he knew better. He had none. He would lose his daughter in the end. If only because he had been charged with the death of his wife; Alison.
So, when Jimmy came back and asked once again for his help. Michael had said yes. He would help his brother put things right. It wouldn’t change a thing regarding his chances of accessing Anna.
Michael wished he had seen you that day. Maybe, the sight of you would have made things slightly better. He would not tell you everything that was going wrong in his life. You already knew enough. You needn’t know about his appointment with the councilor or his agreeing to put things right. Even if it was for a brief moment, he would have offered him a little peace.
He stepped out of his house about to go on walk. He saw the light coming out of your large window, meaning you had come back home already. He paused, debating whether he should go knock on your door or not, when he heard it. You had screamed, startling him. He took one step towards your house, and rushed the rest of the way when he heard the glass shattering.
You had wrapped your hand in a kitchen towel before opening the door. Michael was standing on the other side, looking worried.
“Michael. Hi.” You smiled at him, although it didn’t reach your eyes.
“Are you alrigh’? I heard ya scream.” Michael asked you, his eyes searching your face.
“Yeah, I’m—I’m good. It’s nothing really.” You shook your head quickly.
“Didn’t sound like nothin’. Ya sure everythin’ alright, Pet?” He asked you again.
You smiled at him using the term of endearment. You were going to answer, when your phone rang. You sighed through your nose. It was probably your brother calling you back. You invited Michael in quickly before going to pick up your phone.
Michael stepped into your home, his eyes landed on the broken glass on the floor or what was left of it. The water that was spread on the wall and floor. His eyes landed on you in the kitchen. You looked agitated as you spoke angrily on the phone. Your eyes found his across the room. You looked away from quickly before you hung up.
You put down your phone, screen down on the counter. It rang again. You let it go through to voicemail. You no longer wanted to talk to your brother.
“Sorry about that.” You apologized moving to the closet in the corridor.
“No worries.” Michael waved it off. You pulled out a broom and a duster pan. “I’ll clean it up for ya.”
“What? No.” You pulled the broom away from him. “It’s my mess. I’ll—I’ll fix it.”
“Let me take care of it, yeah?” He reached out for the broom and duster pan.
You reluctantly let him take the items from you. “Coffee?” You offered.
“Ya should probably do something about yer hand first.” He said as he started sweeping.
“Yeah.”
You put down the cup of fresh coffee in front of Michael. You pulled the chair before sitting down, across from him. You pushed out a sigh before having a sip.
“Who was that on the phone?” Michael questioned you.
“My brother. Dave.” You replied, not looking up from your cup.
“Didn’t sound like a pleasant conversation.” He remarked.
“It wasn’t.” You looked down at your now freshly bandaged hand. The cut was pretty shallow but it had bled quite a bit.
“Hey, ya can talk to me.” Michael assured you.
You looked up at him. You let out another sigh. Could you really tell him what was going on? And how much should you tell him? You looked over his shoulder at the wall, against which you had smashed your glass in anger. Maybe you could tell him a few things.
“My brother wants me to get in contact with our mother.” You spoke. “I don’t want to because—well, she walked out on us. And I don’t like her new husband. He’s a creep. Always has been.”
“S’ that why you smashed a glass against your wall?”
You huffed out a laugh. You dropped your chin in the palm of your good hand, the clog in your throat was back. You did everything you could to keep the tears at bay.
“He told her where I was. Gave her all my information. Which means her husband knows too.” Your voice cracked; your lips turned down. “I’m scared they are going to show up.” The first tears fell. “I can’t believe my own brother would do this to me.”
Michael’s chair scraped on the floor, as he stood up. He pulled you into his arm. His hand rubbed soothing circles on your back. You fisted his shirt as you cried into his chest while Michael comforted you, whispering soft words of reassurance. Michael didn’t really know why you were scared of your stepfather and mother. And he didn’t need to know. Knowing you were scared was enough for him.
“I won’t let anyone hurt ya.” He said quietly in your ears. “I won’t let that happen.” He pulled away from you so he could look you in the eye. “Ya hear me? I will not let him hurt ya, yeah?”
You nodded. You believed him. He looked determined, almost angry on your behalf. He didn’t know anything and yet, he was ready to protect you. He didn’t have to say the words, you knew that was a promise on his part.
“Yeah.”
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The way I would [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacte-
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Ah! It makes me so happy that you’re this invested. Let me know if you want to be tagged when I post the next chapter!
I’m currently reading Of Oak and Ivy on AO3, I’ll probably finish it tonight in a binge if I’m honest, but I’m really enjoying it! I’m currently on chapter 3 and glanced at your AO3 username to see if I could find your Tumblr to reblog and I immediately went “Hey, I think I know that person!”
As I said, I am really enjoying it. I have a need for college Matt sometimes and as a current college student the way you write some of parts is just real and wonderful. Not to mention their interactions are just really sweet and cute. The angst hasn’t really hit yet, I both fear and look forward to it and the subsequent fluff afterwards. A good slow burn is always good, especially with Matt starting in college.
Oh my goodness, thank you so much, darling! I’m so glad you’re enjoying it. There is MUCH angst to come, but it is a ways off for now. (I have planned about 45 chapters of this fic so far 😂)
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Omg thank you so much! I love the nickname bubs (one of my friends has started calling me that on purpose and I only mention it bc I know she will see this post 😅) and nicknames in general! I never had a nickname as a kid so I make up for that in my fics. I’m really glad you like them! And I’d love to know what you think the angst arc is! Some of it has been revealed but most of it hasn’t 😂
I’m currently reading Of Oak and Ivy on AO3, I’ll probably finish it tonight in a binge if I’m honest, but I’m really enjoying it! I’m currently on chapter 3 and glanced at your AO3 username to see if I could find your Tumblr to reblog and I immediately went “Hey, I think I know that person!”
As I said, I am really enjoying it. I have a need for college Matt sometimes and as a current college student the way you write some of parts is just real and wonderful. Not to mention their interactions are just really sweet and cute. The angst hasn’t really hit yet, I both fear and look forward to it and the subsequent fluff afterwards. A good slow burn is always good, especially with Matt starting in college.
Oh my goodness, thank you so much, darling! I’m so glad you’re enjoying it. There is MUCH angst to come, but it is a ways off for now. (I have planned about 45 chapters of this fic so far 😂)
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Congratulations; you made it through another day! You have reached your new personal best.
Your record for longest amount of consecutive days without dying has reached a personal best. Well done, you.
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When you can be a baby boy lawyer-vigilante 🥰
But also a hot sexy lawyer-vigilante 🥵
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also i just gotta say the mattfoggykaren friendship is Everything to me
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This scene is so inaccurate and @gracethyomen and I were cackling about it but ITS SO HOT
So here y’all go.
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I’m currently reading Of Oak and Ivy on AO3, I’ll probably finish it tonight in a binge if I’m honest, but I’m really enjoying it! I’m currently on chapter 3 and glanced at your AO3 username to see if I could find your Tumblr to reblog and I immediately went “Hey, I think I know that person!”
As I said, I am really enjoying it. I have a need for college Matt sometimes and as a current college student the way you write some of parts is just real and wonderful. Not to mention their interactions are just really sweet and cute. The angst hasn’t really hit yet, I both fear and look forward to it and the subsequent fluff afterwards. A good slow burn is always good, especially with Matt starting in college.
Oh my goodness, thank you so much, darling! I’m so glad you’re enjoying it. There is MUCH angst to come, but it is a ways off for now. (I have planned about 45 chapters of this fic so far 😂)
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Macchiato from Frank Castle with a vulnerable Reader (recently escaped abusive relationship or is hiding from such an ex / targeted by the Villain of the Week after being in the wrong place at the wrong time). I'll leave it up to the barista whether or not to put it over ice.
Thanks again, for letting me submit some requests.
you're so very welcome! thanks for stopping by the cafe! 🖤
headcannon below the cut
frank castle makes sure you feel safe
frank could tell that you had a troubled past when he met you. he could see it, & sometimes he could feel it. he didn't pry, figuring you would open up when you were ready, just like he did when he revealed his own traumatic history
when you finally told him about the abusive relationship you escaped with your ex, a lot of things finally clicked. the things he'd noticed & picked up on suddenly made sense. the way you physically tensed whenever there was a loud noise, how you apologized profusely for the most trivial things, your overly cautious nature & hesitancy when it came to intimacy
it broke his heart knowing what you had been through, but more than anything it pissed him off that some asshole had been the one to do it. frank was furious when you told him, a look of pure rage in his eyes & his jaw set in a harsh line. the anger was practically rolling off him in waves & he was insistent on you giving him a name
but the second he saw a flash of fear in your eyes at his reaction, he quickly recomposed himself. he never wanted to scare you. he didn't want to be just another angry man in your house. even though you knew exactly who he was & what he'd done, you felt safe with frank, & he never wanted to ruin that
you were insistent about leaving it alone, not wanting to spend another moment in the past. you just wanted to move forward. frank respected that. but he also tracked that motherfucker down & sent him on a 3 month long vacation to the icu, not that you needed to know that
while frank did everything he could to make sure you felt comfortable, he knew there were certain things he'd have to be patient with you about. you were still healing from a lot of trauma, but he was determined to help you in any way that he could
at least once a month for the first four months of your relationship, frank reminded you that you were safe. sometimes you'd wake up in the middle of the night sobbing from a horrible nightmare, your dreams transporting you back to that dark place, & frank would hold you for as long as you needed, gently rocking you back & forth while stroking your hair, whispering softly in your ear
"shh shh shh, s'alright, baby. you're safe, yeah? I got you. you're alright. deep breaths, baby. no one's ever gonna hurt you again, I promise. you're safe with me, sweetheart."
as hard as frank tries to be mindful, he's human. he has his own trauma that he's still working through. while your issues manifest with fear, his manifest with anger. the first time he loses his temper & raises his voice, the look on your face physically pains him like a knife to the heart
he sees the way your eyes go wide, how you start to slightly tremble, notices that your breathing is more shallow & harsh. the way your eyes become glossy nearly brings him to his knees, & he quickly lifts his hands in a show of peace & takes a step back
"hey...hey, i'm sorry. i'm sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn'ta raised my voice like that. I didn't mean to. i'm not mad at you, alright? you didn't do nothin' wrong. I just...got frustrated. i'm sorry, baby. what...what do ya need? need me to leave? I can step out if you need a minute. just...tell me what you need."
frank doesn't mind that you're hesitant when it comes to intimacy. he lets you take things as slow as you want. he doesn't push you, doesn't try to guilt trip you, just lets you control the pace & follows your lead. whenever you try to apologize about it, he quickly cuts you off with reassurance
"hey, you don't owe me nothin'. i'm just happy to be here, yeah? I got you here with me, that's all I need. don't worry 'bout me, sweetheart. i'm not goin' anywhere."
frank goes to extra lengths to make sure you have peace of mind. he installs a full security system at your place complete with cameras. he makes sure you have pepper spray & a taser with you at all times. he's taken you to the shooting range a few times just to show you how to shoot just in case you ever have to. he's taught you a few self defense moves that you can protect yourself with. he doesn't just want you to feel safe, he wants you to feel strong
frank makes sure you understand that anyone that ever tried to get to you would have to go through him. whenever you're out in public, he's got his arm around you, or he's holding your hand. he's got his eye on you at all times. if he even thinks you look uncomfortable for any reason, he's at your side in a flash
frank is a fierce protector, & there's no one he protects more relentlessly than the people he loves & cares about. he'd wage war on anyone without a second thought just to keep you safe
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I FINALLY GOT MY DAREDEVIL WATER. THE UNIVERSE SMILED ON ME TODAY
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Today's headcanon:
Matt hates bugs.
He's not scared of them, per se, he just hates them.
He can feel each individual leg on his skin if one lands on him. And as a kid, when he was still struggling to tune things out, he became so easily distracted by every buzz and flap of wings he could hear around him.
Spiders are awful. Something about how they creepily crawl up a wall or up his body as if they're a predator slowly tracking their prey just grosses him out. Sometimes he wakes up with one on him somewhere, and he can feel and hear each tiny step it takes; it drives him nuts.
The only thing that's worse are mosquitos. They're generally all over during the summer, and the noise gives them away, so he's become pretty adept at smacking one off of his arm. But the gross part is that he can smell the faint wiff of blood that each one carries as it passes from one human to the next.
It's repulsive.
Mosquitos are generally active in the NYC April through October, as are other insects, and so he finds himself slightly favoring the cooler part of the year when bugs have slunk back in the holes from which they came from.
---
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