#castlle

Frank's words are met with a low growl from Jake. "You're not in a position to be making demands, Frank." Of course Jake is aroused. He and Frank were doing close quarters sparring. It seems they both just wanted an excuse to touch each other today. He squeezes a bit harder, but not as nearly as hard as what Frank means. If Frank wants to have a foul mouth and be a bit of a brat, Jake will make him work for it.

Jake's gaze flickers to Frank's hard cock. Frank is bare and he isn't. At the question regarding his own arousal, Jake rather sassily retorts, "wouldn't you like to know?" Despite his lack of a verbal answer, there is a notable tension to his pants. He's hard too.

Instead of immediately giving into Frank's wants, Jake releases Frank's throat altogether, hands tracing down Frank's chest before going lower, to his cock. A fingertip brushes along the edge of it and his other hand cradles Frank's balls within his palm and lightly squeezes. The touches don't linger, with Jake's hands coming to rest on Frank's knees. "I'll squeeze harder," he assures Frank, kissing inner knee, then inner thigh. "But only if you're good about tapping my arm or leg when you need to breathe. I don't want to kill you or give you brain damage."

      ❛ don't  marry  him  ❜, his  voice  echoed  inside  of  her  head  as  she  was  still  looking  at  him,  stunned,  in  silence,  wondering  why  here,  why  now,  why  was  he  being  like  this.  ❝ frank..  ❞ karen  finally  spoke  as  she  let  go  of  the  dress,  but  she  didn't  approach  him;  her  mind  was  still  full  of  questions  that  only  he  could  answer.  ❝ what  are  you  doing  here?  why  are  you  asking  me  this?  why  now?!  ❞  those  rapid  fired  questions  ended  up  with  her  throat  choked  up  with  unspilled  tears,  and  she  wished  to  hear  him  appeal  to  his  case,  because  if  he  asked  her  to  run  away  with  him,  she  would. 

       ⁺ ‧͙ ⊹ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆ ˚ ｡  @castlle  𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠  ❛ don't marry them! ❜  ━━  𝑎𝑐𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎HIS SPONSOR WAS GONNA kill him for this. not actually, but -- he wasn't looking forward to the talking to. which was mostly why roy hadn't bothered texting him, like he was supposed to.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎falling off the wagon happened. it was unfortunate, but normal. especially when there was a death in the family. especially when -- his hands were still shaking. still locked on an image he'd never forget.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎it's definitely an abuse of power, finding frank's address. even drunk, he moved through shield systems like it was nothing. wasn't even all that hard to find in the first place.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎at least frank knew it was a stupid question. it's not the reaction he'd been expecting, but the redhead would take it. he wasn't getting threatened or beaten in an inch of his life. just ... kindness.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎frank is solid, helping him move to the couch. roy managed a small smile at the dog, waving before taking a deep breath the moment his back hit the couch. “ can't remember, maybe ? woulda been hours ago. either way, think my aa sponsor's gonna have a conniption 'bout this. ”

         ❝  I—I  know..  ❞  she  reached  to  brush  her  fingers  gently  against  frank's  arm,  looking  at  him  with  those  blue  eyes.  ❝  but  you  know  I  don't  want  to  burden  you  frank..  ❞  karen  said  softly,  lips  pursing  against  each  other;  he  had  better  things  to  do  than  to  come  to  her  rescue,  and  she  wanted  to  demonstrate  to  him,  to  anyone  that  she  wasn't  a  damsel  in  distress.  she  retrieved  her  fingers  so  she  could  bury  them  between  her  golden  hair  strands  on  the  back  of  her  head,  as  her  gaze  averted  his  own  for  a  moment.  she  didn't  want  him  to  feel  trapped,  like  he  should  be  looking  after  her,  that  wasn't  fair  to  him,  she  wanted  to  be  an  afterthought,  someone  you  forget,  just  to  remember  years  later  as  a  fond  memory  for  a  pair  of  moments  before  going  back  on  with  your  life.

       ⁺ ‧͙  ⊹♡  ˚˖· ⬦ ‧͙  @castlle  𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠  ❛  reasuring each other  ❜  ⸻  𝑎𝑐𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 *𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒, 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑒.

She’s already got a smart-ass retort loaded on the tip of her rough tongue to fire back at him. Greer likes intimidating people, especially people like him. Honestly she half expected him to make a joke about it, what she hadn’t expected was his second question. So earnest in his tone that it caused her to actually blink in surprise, claws lowering from his throat an inch.

No one had ever asked her that before. Hell she hadn’t even ever asked herself. Maybe everybody was afraid to ask: to taint their idea of her, of who she was in their minds. Greer’s come to terms with who she is now, what she looks like & how her body works & all the ups & downs that come with being Tigra — being only half.

Quick as a flash, strong paw wraps tightly around his throat, claws sinking deep into the thick muscle beneath as she drives him back hard into a brick wall with a warning hiss. He doesn’t react, not on his face, but she can hear his heart rate pick up enough to tell her he’s at least a little worried. Hers is pounding against her ribcage.

“Course I do.” she whispered, pupils narrowed into threatening slits.

The scent of fear thick in the air, the thrill of the hunt, the excitement of the stalk & the sweet, addictive adrenaline of the fatal bite. The tang of blood on her tongue & the warm thickness of it as she swallows it. Nobody understands — this is her unique, guilty pleasure. It’s justifiable, her rare & disturbing vice, reserved for very few deemed worthy in her merciful eyes.

She’s not sure why she answers; she’s afraid to admit it out loud, to herself. Maybe he can tell how scared she is. Dangerous thing, a scared animal. Especially one with sharp teeth & claws who can defend itself, who can fight its way through you. She yanked him forward, only to slam his head back into the brick; the iron tinge of blood cutting into her nostrils. “Of course I fucking do.”

Before she can do any more damage, her claws retract from his neck & she pushes herself a step back from him. She could kill him, they both know it — what’s more is he deserves it. Lucky for him the only crime he’s committed against her is pissing her the fuck off. She’s got a line, after all — she doesn’t kill every asshole she comes across like he does. But she’d be lying to herself if she ignored the fact that the line has moved in the last couple years.

❝ UNLESS YOU HAVE TO!? WAIT A MINUTE! WAIT A MINUTE! ❞

🦻 ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ: ▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪ ​🇫​​🇺​​🇱​​🇱​ ​🇧​​🇦​​🇹​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇾​     —     What gives a man the right to take a life? How does one decide to be judge, jury and executioner? How can you live with the knowledge that maybe you aren't qualified for the choice? Hawkeye didn't kill anymore. It's been years, so long that he can fool himself into thinking he's forgotten. There's been some close calls, but he's abstained. Maybe he should get a coin like AA. "10 years clean from murder!" Maybe he's lost his teeth and the taste for it all.

Clint looks at the man, his face an ease of dopey relaxation as shaded eyes peel him apart like a vivisection. ❝ Frankie~ ❞  His voice is calm. A dull trill as he eases forward. The man brought only blood and bodies with him. To see the Punisher was akin to a rider on a white horse. His shoulder aches at the thought. But Clint had made his whole legacy on acting stupid, so he drifts forward.

❝ You're a long way from home. Daredevil is two streets over. Where are you sleeping now? An astro van with shag carpet~ ❞