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Rain pattered against the window; every few minutes or so, thunder would roll out, and shortly after, lightning would follow, crashing down somewhere in the distance. Rain was an all-too-common occurrence in a city like New York. Most would be used to it or sick of it by now. Others would describe it as serene; most would just say peaceful.
It was in one of these rare moments of peace that Francine “Frank” Castle found herself. Here she sat cozied up in her apartment, (imagine that, Frank Castle having an apartment rather than a safehouse) with only a dim lamp casting a warm light around the area. She lay stretched out on her cheap couch in nothing but her sports bra and a pair of comfortable sweatpants, with a worn-out paperback in hand and Max happily snoring at the other end of the couch.
For this brief moment, the troubles of her world would be put at the back of her mind. But there was no rest for the wicked, and Frank knew that by now. It was only a matter of time until she had to be out there again. But for now she would enjoy this calm.
Unfortunately, it would end sooner rather than later.
The sudden sound of knocking sent a jolt through her body, making her spine stiffen. Looking to the front door, she could see light streaming in through the hallway, but no shadow that would indicate to her that someone was there.
There was another set of knocking; this time it sounded sharper, like glass being rattled.
Wait, glass? That would mean someone was knocking at her window. Frank gently laid her book down; her other hand instinctively reached for the gun beneath the couch cushion. Max was up and alert as well, making a low growling sound.
“Stay down, Max,” she ordered the dog.
She was sat facing away from the window, so she had to peek behind her, over the back of the couch, to investigate further. Squinting, Frank could see a shadowy figure standing in front of the window. It was leaning slightly against the glass, almost as if it was bracing itself.
There was another drum of thunderous lightning, illuminating the figure from behind. Frank saw a flash of red, a slim but muscular build almost that of an acrobat or a dancer, and—were those horns?
There was only one person Frankie could think of fitting this description.
Red.
Most knew her as Mattilda “Mattie” Murdock. But to the dark of Hell’s Kitchen, she was known by another name.
Daredevil.
With a grumble, Frank placed her gun down onto her coffee table and moved to the window to let in her surprise guests.
Frank unlocked the window, then slid it open, and in came Red, who looked like a soaked puppy left out in the rain.
“Christ Murdock, you look like shit.” Frank then caught a whiff of a foul stench. “And you smell like it too.” Frank’s face scrunched up in disgust.
“Thanks,” she huffed, her voice brimming with sarcasm. “I fell into a dumpster on my way here.”
Sighing Frank locked the window behind her and closed the blinds. She had no intention of giving the local gossipmongers anything to talk about—Daredevil in her apartment was not a sight to be seen. It was for the best too, because as Frank turned around again, Red tugged off the horned cowl, causing a cascade of red hair tied into a ponytail fell from it, and she bent over to place the cowl on the coffee table.
Max, being the smart dog that he is, trotted over to greet her, as soon as he realised who it was, with a wag of his tail, and Mattie happily obliged, scratching his head and behind the ears.
“So is there a reason you came to me other than to stink up my place?” Frank asked, eyeing Mattie as she petted her dog. When she stood upright, Frank saw a deep gash running over the other’s shoulder blade.
“Or are you here just to bleed out on my couch? Fucking hell, Red! Don’t you have any self-preservation?” Frank rushed moved to Mattie’s side concerned to get a better look at the still bleeding gash.
Mattie looked up confused, then winched and was seemingly reminded of her still bleeding wound.
“Fuck, forgot about that one.” She cursed.
“Y-you forgot about it—you know what never mind that; sit down, Red, so I can stitch it up.”
“It’s not even that deep.” Mattie protested but still sat down anyway.
“Oh, and how do you know? Do you have a set of eyes on the backside of your head?” Frank called out as she disappeared into the bathroom to retrieve the first aid kit.
“Even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to use them.” She shot back with a sly grin as Frank reappeared with a first aid kit in hand.
“Ha ha, a blind joke, how original.” Frank commented dryly as she set down the case filled with medical supplies. “Now take off that suit so I can get you patched up and out of here.”
“Moving fast, aren’t we? Aren’t you supposed to take me to dinner first before you ask me to undress?” Red’s lips curled up in a teasing smile, but she complied nonetheless, while Frank stared at the ceiling in exasperation, praying to a god she didn’t believe in anymore for some semblance of patience, as the other set to work unlatching the series of zips, buttons, and clasps, then started to shimmy out of the soaked suit.
The fabric of her undershirt clung to Mattie’s body, outlining the muscles honed from a life of fighting, the dark red suit that now lay at her feet a stark contrast to the paleness of her skin. Frank’s eyes travelled over the well-defined abs and broad shoulders, taking in the sight of the “Woman without Fear". The way Red moved her body was almost as if to purposely tease the other, stretching every which way, made her think obscene thoughts about Red, about how she would feel under Frank’s hands and how she would move and what sounds she would make and-
Frank put a stop to those thoughts as soon as they began and looked away, already feeling blush climb up her face. This was not the time to ogle the other woman, not when she needed help stitching up a still bleeding wound.
As soon as she sat down, now just in her spots bra and a pair of shortened thighs, Frank set to work, first cleaning the skin, then stopping the worst of the bleeding, and finally started to stitch it up. As she worked, she couldn’t help but ask, “So, why did you come here instead of going to that nurse friend of yours? Or your buddy Nelson? Are you two fighting again?”
Mattie winced as the needle pierced her skin. “N-no, nothing like that, it’s just—” She hesitated almost as if debating what to say, “You were the closest, and—the rain. Or rather the thunder; it messes with my senses; that’s why I fell into that dumpster on my way here.”
“And is that why you promptly forgot about this?” Frank punctuated the question by tapping on her shoulder blade, eliciting a hiss of pain. “Was that just your senses acting up, or did you get a bit too cocky and think you would be fine going out when it was raining cats and dogs? Or was that just the blood loss?” Frank honestly had no clue how Red’s sense actually worked but wasn’t in the mood to figure it out and instead focused on the task at hand.
"I blame the rain," Mattie quipped, her tone light despite the pain.
Their banter was a familiar dance. It’s what they would fall back onto whenever those long silences seem to stretch on. This type of banter between the two of them had comforted Frank throughout the few years she had known the devil vigilante. It had become a sort of routine for them; something comforting, something familiar.
It wasn’t long before Frank was done with the stitches and bandaging up her handiwork.
“All done, Red.” Came the soft murmur.
“Thanks, Frank.” Mattie turned around; a soft smile adorned her lips.
Frank looked up from where she started to pack everything away, just in time too, to see the tip of Mattie’s pink tongue darting out to wet her lips, making them all pink and glossy in the dim light. Her eyes took on a hooded form almost as if she was getting sleepy. She looked up through her lashes at Frank, her dusty brown eyes seemingly knowing just where Frank’s were.
Frank’s heart did a funny thing and spoke before she could do something stupid. “No problem, Red. Now how about you go and take a shower while I clean up here? I’ll go get you some spare clothes.”
Mattie’s shoulders fell immediately as if from disappointment, but Frank was sure it wasn’t that. What would she be disappointed about? She probably relaxed at the thought of a warm shower after being soaked to the bone. Yeah, that was it.
“Sure, thanks.” Came the muttered reply as Red stood up.
“The bathroom is about seven steps to the left. I’ll go get you some clothes.”
——
Mattie didn’t take too long in the shower, but it gave Frank enough time to pack away the first aid kit and put the kettle on for a cup of coffee.
Frank was standing in the kitchen leaning against the small island when the door did finally opened. She looked up and her heart did that funny thing again.
There in all her glory stood Mattilda Murdock, drying her wet hair with a towel, dressed in one of Frank’s shirts, which was a few sizes too large for her. But this wasn’t just any old shirt; oh no, this was the one Frank would wear when she went out at night. The one that had become a symbol of fear among the criminal underground.
Yup, that one.
The Punisher shirt.
She knew for a fact that that was not the shirt she had given Mattie, but was it possible that she had absentmindedly given her that shirt? Had she maybe left it in the bathroom and Red accidentally took that one instead of the one Frank brought her?
Either way, Frank was screwed even if she didn’t know it yet.
The why her shirt was draped over Mattie’s figure, the way she was practically swinging in it, the way the shirt slightly hung off her one shoulder. It wasn’t even just the shirt. The way her still slightly wet hair curled up on itself, creating spirals of red. Those pretty freckles that were dusted along her face and arms. Those soft lips that somehow naturally had a shiny pink colour.
Everything.
It was enough to make Frank’s heart do that funny thing almost as if it was trying to flutter right out of her chest. Looking at Mattie dressed in her shirt made something deep inside Frank hum pleased with the sight in front of her. A voice. It chanted something over and over, scratching and clawing at the walls like something feral was trying to break out.
Mine.
That’s all Frank could think.
Mine.
Frank was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t even realise that Mattie was now standing right in front of her.
Shit. Red had asked her something, and she’s just standing there like a lump of clay.
“Frank, are you okay?” An innocent question, really. But all Frank could think about was how Red’s lips moved around the words, the slightest tone of concern laced between those words.
Shaking herself from her thoughts, Frank finally spoke, “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Coffee?” Try as she might, Frank couldn’t help the way her voice strained around the words, making her sound hoarse.
Mattie hummed thoughtfully, “Sure, I could go for a cup.”
“Cabinet is to your right, top shelf.” Frank directed her. She knew better by now not to assume that just because Red was blind, she wanted things to be done for her. All she needed was Frank to give her directions, and then she was set.
A sly grin spread across the redhead’s features, seemingly pleased with what Frank had said.
Frank watched Red as she opened the cabinet and had to stand up on her tiptoes to reach the shelf. As Mattie reached up her hand to grab a mug, Frank’s breath hitched as she watched how the bottom of the shirt rode up, giving her a naughty peek of a rounded ass cheek and a red pantyline peeking out. And as Mattie reached further into the cabinet, seemingly having a bit of trouble finding a suitable mug, the shirt rode up even more, giving Frank an even better view of a wonderfully rounded behind.
Frank tried to remain calm, but as she watched Red, now having found a mug, dropped down to her feet again, causing her ass to bounce, all semblance of calm was lost. Frank couldn’t help the strained noise she made in the back of her throat.
“Something wrong, Frank?” Red’s voice sounded sweet, almost teasing. “Your heart did a funny thing just there.”
Frank didn’t have time nor the brain function to think about the fact that Mattie could hear her heartbeat, as she abandoned all common sense and took a few short steps towards where Mattie was standing.
Mattie looked up, confused, slightly tilting her head to the side. “Frank, wh-?”
She didn’t have time to finish her sentence as Frank took her face between both hands and shoved their mouths together in a searing kiss. For the first few seconds, Mattie didn’t do anything, causing Frank to start panicking, because she had just kissed Red without even asking first, and she possibly just screwed up the already rocky friendship they had.
Luckily, just as Frank started to pull away, Mattie’s lips parted, and she kissed her back.
It was softer this time as their lips danced together. Frank had not realised how much she was pining after the Red, but now she knew that she was a goner.
As they stood there together, they let their hands start to wander, Frank’s in particular, where one went straight to the redhead’s ass and the other entangled itself in her hair, giving it an experimental tug. This elected Mattie to give a strangled moan and only encouraged Frank further.
Red’s hands came to rest on Frank’s hips, softly stroking her sides with her thumb against the bare skin, before pulling Frank against herself. Frank, in turn, made a pleased sound akin to that of a cat being petted.
They did have to part eventually for air. Although the sight of kiss-swollen lips, dazed eyes, and panting breaths were enough for Frank to want to dive back in for more. The sight in front of her made that same voice from earlier purr pleased, chanting softly into her mind.
Mine.
Mattie looked up at her, again meeting her eyes with unsettling ease. That same teasing smile was plastered across her face as she spoke, “Finally, I thought you’d never take a hint.”
This time Frank tilted her head in confusion. “What are you on about?”
“Well, I thought my flirting was obvious, but apparently not.”
“Flirting?”
Mattie hummed in response, ”For about four months now, actually.”
“Four months?” Frank felt incredibly stupid. How could she not have noticed someone flirting with her for four months?
“Fuck, I am an idiot.”
“Don’t strain yourself; it’s really no big deal.” Mattie punctuated herself by giving Frank a peck on the cheek. “And before you ask, yes, this does mean I am interested in more than just some kind of carnal relationship; otherwise, I would not have put in this much effort.”
Frank huffed a laugh and couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face. “I can live with that.”
The kiss was even better the second time.