#daredevil ff

Well. Maybe that's her, now. Staying home Friday nights. Maybe she used up all her fun Friday nights with her stupid ex boyfriend, who she fucking missed, even if he is a messy asshole. But shit, he was a charming asshole.

With a sigh, Karen turns the key on her lock, expecting Max to come greet her. Frank was probably out with some woman.

There’s no greeting. Karen sets her purse on the couch and walks towards the bathroom, where she hears Frank’s voice.

When she opens the door, she wants to scream and cry and go off on Frank.

He's bathing the dog. In her bathtub.

The floor is a mess, wet and littered with stuff, from Frank’s shirt to a box of dog shampoo to an empty packet of Oreos. The tub she hates and never bathed in anyway is half full and Frank is sitting on the edge, one leg in, one leg out, wrestling a foamed up Max. Both stop and look at her with guilty faces.

“Hi”, Frank says.

After a moment, Max tries to jump over the edge of the tub towards her, but Frank stops him.

Taking a breath, Karen looks for something that can't be fixed. She finds nothing, so she just eyes Frank.

“Don't worry, I’ll clean it up.”

Looking at Max, she has half a mind to ask why in the world he’s not at the petshop having his weekly bath, but she finds out she doesn't really care. As long as he cleans it up.

Careful not to step on the wet tile, Karen moves to close the door.

“There's Oreos on the counter for you!” Frank offers. “Double Stuff!”

She closes the door and moves towards the exit, stopping by her bedroom to pick up a pair of pajamas, getting the Oreos, walking out, unlocking Frank’s door and walking to his pristine bathroom.

After taking a quick shower, she gets into her PJ’s, orders them two burgers and shakes and settles on the couch, logging into Netflix and queueing up the movie.

When Frank and Max walk in, the dog is bathed and Frank is also clean and she's about to dig into her burger.

He places the puppy on her lap, gets his own burger and moves to sit by her, picking up her feet, wrapped in socks and blankets, and putting them on his lap.

“How's my bathroom?” She asks.

“Spotless. You could eat off that floor.”

She lifts her arms to stop Max from getting a bite and frowns while Lizzie Bennet walks all the way to Pemberley to see Jane.

“Did you use my shampoo on him?” she asks, moving to sniff the freshly bathed tiny pitbul on her lap. He licks her face.

“No”, he says all too casually, unwrapping his double cheese bacon and manspreading on the couch, and Karen forces him to close his legs by pushing his left with both her feet. Max slides from her knees to her lap when she does. “He knocked the bottle over and it spilled a bit.”

Deciding that if the bottle is halfway empty, she’s gonna send him to buy another one for her, Karen settles to watch and eat, slipping a tiny piece of bread to Max, to maybe make him settle down.

And then they eat and watch the movie quietly.

.:.

[FRANK’S BIRTHDAY]

He watched closely as Karen danced with Trish, both laughing and twirling around.

She waved at him to join them, but he shook his head, he was fine just sitting there, nursing his drink.

“Sir”, came Scott Bagley’s voice by his side. He, like every other man at the table, had been watching Karen and Trish dance together. “Would it be ok with you if I-”

“Shut the fuck up right now”, he said, not even looking at the young man.

“Ok. Right.” He hesitated. “What about Tri-”

“I mean it, Scott. Shut up.”

“Yes, of course, sorry sir.”

.:.

[ONE WEEK AFTER]

She was lying on her stomach, he was lying on his back. His breathing is under control again when she moves to support her head on her hand, elbow on the pillow.

“How did you know I liked that?” she asked.

“Liked what?”

“You know. With… the hand and everything.”

He turned to her and reached to pull the blanket off her, not yet fully used to the sight of her naked body.

“Maybe I’m just that good?”

“Well”, she leans in, kissing him slowly and sensually. “No matter how good you are, that was really specific. How did you know I like it?”

Frank sighed and caught her hand in his, both resting on top of his chest.

“Murdock told me.”

Her expression was, predictably, as if she had been shocked.

“Matt told you about that?!”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my God!” she sat up and pulled on the covers to her chest, hair falling around her shoulders and fuck, she looked good. “How did that even come up?”

“It’s a nice story, actually”, he said, moving to sit up against a few of the one million pillows she keeps on her bed. “We were at the gym one night, and he took his shirt off, right? Because he was bleeding and sweating. And, as it turns out, there was a bite mark on his shoulder.”

Karen’s eyes went unfocused for a second, while she looked at a spot on the wall behind him.

“Oh…”. Apparently, she remembered.

“Yeah”, he went on. “I asked him about it, and he stood there, all smug. ‘Karen bit me’”, he mimicked, making her chuckle. “Apparently he had tried this little thing with you the night before and you liked it so much you sank your teeth on him.”

She let out what he had learned, a long time ago, to recognize as nervous laughter, and hid her face in her hands.

“Honestly”, he went on. “I’m kinda offended you didn’t bite me.”

“Oh, Frank, come on.”

“No, I’m serious. What is it that Altar Boy did that made you go so crazy that you tried to rip a chunk of him off with your teeth?”

“Altar Boy?” she smiled while he moved forward to reach her.

“You know, all that catholic thing he got going on.” He got close and touched his nose to her cheek, running his lips against her face lightly. “Don’t change the subject. Was he that good?”

“If you must know, yes. He was very, very good at sex.”

Playfully, he tackled her to the bed and she goes down laughing, that blond hair of hers all over cream sheets.  

“That second ‘very’ was really not necessary”, he whispered in her ear, taking the covers away from between them.

“Did you guys talk about this a lot?” she asked when he settled on top of her again.

“Not really.”

“But he told you about the hand thing?”

“Yeah, he told me about the hand thing. And lemme tell you this.” He reached between them and she sucks in a startled breath, gripping his arms, nails piercing, eyes closed. “I’m gonna get a reaction like that, even if it kills me.”

She laughs, but it’s weak, because he’s working his hand and it gets her arching her back and he’s watching her, measuring and cataloguing.

He doesn’t get his bite mark (yet), but he does go to work the next day with a very red, kinda sore set of half-moon shaped nail marks on his side, that stung when he showered.

.:.

He did get his bite mark, but not before four more months.

Frank had just touched down in New York again, after six days in the deep of the country, leading the recovery of a massive Shield weapons warehouse, when his phone rang.

“You back, yet?” she asked, and he heard an echo of sorts.

“Just landed.”

“Did you bring me my coffee?”

“When have I ever forgotten?”

“That is true. So, guess what.”

“What?”

“I’m at the new place.”

He felt that sense of happiness and downright giddiness start inside his chest.

“You finally got the key?”

“I finally got the key. And, best of all.” Karen dropped her voice to a conspiratory whisper. “They delivered the new bed.”

The king size bed he took forever to buy, because he couldn’t decide among so many options. The king size bed he wanted to be perfect, because he wanted her to never regret sharing a bed with him, ever. The king size bed that was the first thing they had bought together, as a couple.

Their bed.

“How does it look?”

“They’re putting it together now, it looks good. But I’m starting to think that maybe this place is too big, Frank.”

“That’s because you’re used to living in that tuna can we called home for almost ten years.”

“Maybe. So, are you on your way over?”

“I’ll be right there.”

Almost half an hour later, he walked up the steps to the brownstone feeling good. Better than he felt in a long time, actually. Walking to his new door - their new door - and climbing the stairs with a spring on his step, he met her at the foyer.

The smile she had on was incredible. Excited and happy and open, simple. It did falter a little when she took a good look at him, and he raised his brows, only then remembering her confession, two weeks ago, that she really, really liked to see him in his black uniform.

“Ma’am”, he said, studying her expression. Her eyes were still running over his body and he couldn’t help the proud and smug feeling inside him, but then she looked back at his face.

“Welcome home, Agent Castle.”

He took that big step to her and she raised her face to his, closing the door behind them. Rubbing Max’s ear when he came to greet him, he let her pull him by the hand and they walked to their new bedroom. He looked at the bed, with no blankets or pillows or covers yet, the big plush white headboard against the dark grey wall, by the big window that waited for the curtains she wanted for it.

“What do you think?” she asked when he stood behind her and hugged her to him, arm around her waist.

After a moment, he turned her around and moved to walk them to the second bedroom that would become the office, where the window already sported a curtain (a horrible one that they would get rid of).

“I think you should take your dress off, Miss Page”, he said.

“What if someone walks in, Agent Castle?”

“Nobody will walk in. This is a secure perimeter.”

Because she liked it when he talked tactical.

“Is it?”

“Yes, ma’am. Dress off, please.”

She moved to lower the zipper on her side and he closed his fingers around the hair at the nape of her neck, pulling just the right amount.

She was pressed between the wall and his body when he felt it, right on the base of his neck, teeth sinking in, a desperate effort to not moan out loud (because he had told her to keep quiet, the empty apartment would carry her sounds easily), her whole body shuddering, her hands tight on his short hair and his arm.

“I think you’re part vampire”, he teased, minutes later, looking at the print of her teeth on his reflection in the guest bathroom mirror while they put themselves back together.

.:.

[BEFORE]

“How is everything, honey?” her mother asks on the phone.

“Oh, you know. Same old, same old”, she replies, lying on her couch, three candles lit on her coffee table to compensate for the lack of electricity that plunged the entire neighborhood to darkness.

“And what about work?” her mother asks on the line.

“Well. It’s actually not that bad. But I don’t think I’m gonna get that raise.”

“Why not?”

Frank walks in, dropping his wallet and keys on the kitchen counter, using the flashlight on his phone to look inside her fridge, looking for dinner, probably.

“Well, they’re actually making cuts, so I’m lucky I’m not getting fired at all.”

“Who is it?” Frank asks, walking to the couch, the container with last night’s take out in his hands.

“My mother”, she replies.

“Who is that?” her mom asks, suddenly excited, and she could kick herself. “Is that Frank?”

“Let me talk to her”, the asshole asks, because he likes the way her mom fawns over him as if he’s a prince.

“No”, she tells him, trying to move the phone out of his reach, but he’s too quick.

“Hey Mrs. Page”, he says, his voice dropping to a low tone and Karen rolls her eyes, taking the food from him.

They talk for maybe five minutes and then he gives the phone back to her, sitting on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table.

Her mother is laughing when she puts the phone back to her ear.

“Hey mom.”

“Oh, honey! He’s just delightful!”

“Yeah, he’s something.”

She is able to steer the conversation away from the topic of Frank and they spend a few more minutes talking about what’s new. Her nephews are two handfuls, and her brother is leaving them with her for a week, so he and his wife can take a vacation to the Caribbean.

She’s hearing gossip about the women on the prayer group when she spots a small piece of paper stuck to the back of Frank’s neck. She scrapes it off with her nail and distracts herself for a while, twirling the short but longer than usual strands of hair around her fingers.

“You need a haircut”, she whispers to him, taking the phone away from her mouth to do so.

After a minute or two, he lies down on the floor and picks her hand up again, placing it back on his head, asking her to keep playing with his hair.

.:.

[BEFORE]

Trish saw right through them.

They could try and fool themselves all they want, but she sees it.

It's not just because Frank payed exactly zero attention to her. Well, it's also that. Trish knows she's a beautiful woman, knows the effect she has on men. Frank Castle? Zilch.

Maybe he's not into blondes, she thought. Or maybe he's not into women. Maybe he's just not interested. Maybe he doesn't feel like seeing anyone right now. Men who used to be in the army, sometimes it happens. They close themselves off, a quiet life is enough for them.

He fit that profile. Had his dog, his beer, his medals, his new job. Maybe romance was just not something he considered anymore.

She entertained that idea for less than 10 minutes. Until she saw Karen enter his line of sight again.

Yeah, he's into women. Yeah, he's into romance and he's into sex.

He's into her.

“We’re friends”, Karen had told her. “For years, now, it’s not like that at all.”

And Trish had believed her. For a while.

Thing is, she's a smart woman. Trish was trying to poach her from the Bulletin to work with her at the station, she has potential. A good, clinical eye that could bring her far. Still, she could not see this, right in front of her.

Her bestie, next door neighbor and co-parent to the sweet pitbull, was in love with her. And she was in love with him.

It was a suspicion at first, but then all those little details, like Frank drilling holes with his eyes through every man that spoke to Karen for more than a minute straight, or Karen reminding him that he needed to change the bandage on his shoulders, taking his beer from him when she thought he had too much already.

And he didn't complain. Let her do it. Just like that. A man that size, single, no girlfriend, no kids, free as a bird, and Karen did whatever the hell she wanted, bossed him around and he just did as he was told.

Like a good husband would.

And him, the way he moved and acted, as if protecting her from whatever, that was not what friends do.

Frank was always vigilant, even when he was distracted, playing with the dog, she could tell he knew exactly what was going on around them. When he was around Karen, though, there was a sweetness, a lilt to his voice and a little something in his eyes.

She’ll be damned if it isn't love.

.:.

[BEFORE]

“You're home early!” He exclaimed, greeting her as soon as she opened the door. “Give me a hug.”

That, right there, gave her pause.

“Why? What did you do?”

It's not that Frank isn't a warm guy, but demanding a hug like this is not him, at all.

With a face she just knew meant she was about to be angry, he stared at her.

“Frank. Tell me.”

He sighed and stepped aside, revealing a very satisfied looking Max, with one of her shoes in his mouth, completely destroyed.

“He had already gotten it when I got here. Can't get him to drop it.”

Clicking her tongue, she took her purse from her shoulder and gave it to him, walking towards the dog.

It was not, thank God, one of the most expensive of favorite shoes. Still. Doesn't make it right.

“Max”, she said, firmly, supporting one closed fist on her hip, the other one pointing to the spot on the floor right in front of her. “Drop it.”

The pitbull looked at her and whined, as he always did when she gave him an order.

“Max”, she repeated, more firmly. “Right now. Drop it. I am not kidding.”

He must have believed her, because suddenly he bowed his head and advanced slowly towards her, dropping he ruined shoe at her feet.

“Bad boy, very bad boy.”

Usually, when Frank scolded him, he would seek refuge with her. Now, he walked slowly towards Frank, head bowed, and hid behind his legs.

“Do you have to call him that?” He asked, still holding her purse.

“Today I do.”

.:.

[AFTER]

Everybody thinks Frank is this big brooding guy who's always scowling and doesn't smile easily.

Which is true, she can't deny that. She has seen him scare cops with just his look, her own love life has suffered because men are, apparently, unable to no shit themselves when Frank stares at them.

But he also has this sweet, soft side of him. Karen has been privy to it for years now, her position as his front door neighbor, friend and, later, a co-parent to Max, has allowed her to see this part of him. Before Maria, she was the one he came to when he wanted a little affection, be it company for dinner or a hand playing with his hair while he watched TV.

After Maria and after their friendship turned out to be so much more, though, Karen learned just how soft he really was.

It could be the fact that they were new, the discovery that what they felt for each other ran much deeper than they both realized, but hugs were a rule. Lots of hugs, long and lingering.

He took his job as the big spoon quite seriously, but lying down on his stomach with his head on her belly, one arm hugging her like a body pillow was also a favorite.

“Ow, Frank, too tight”, was a sentence she said constantly, when he carried her off the floor in a bear hug every time he came back from one of his travels. Eventually, he learned not to squeeze so hard when greeting her, and she learned that he was not going to break her, just let him do his thing.

.:.

[AFTER]

He never, honestly, thought too much of it. Frank was never one to feel proud when women pranced around wearing his shirts, hoodies, stuff like that. Maria was the only one he actually liked seeing in his clothes, but she only started doing that after she got pregnant, because they were comfortable and “didn't squeeze” her.

Karen started doing it a year after they first met.

As independent and strong as she is, she grew up with a big brother, one who took to protect her from anything and everything. He was the one thing she missed from home.

So, sometimes, she would wear one of his shirts on her laundry day. Then, on rainy days that she neither wanted nor needed to leave the house, curling up with blankets and socks and a book.

It stopped when she started dating Murdock. For a year, she would prance around with Columbia shirts, boxing gym shirts, dress shirts and hoodies that didn’t belong to Frank.

After Matt and Maria and after Max and after she was Gosnell took her and they became them, she went back to wearing his shirts in cold days, in hot days, in days she was bored, when she went to walk Max and just threw on jeans and went out.

And Frank started liking it. Started appreciating watching her walk around the house in his shirts, started liking smelling her perfume on them when he put them on.

.:.

[AFTER, MOVING DAY]

Frank was sitting on the floor, unpacking stuff he would keep in the office/guest room of the new place, when Karen walked in.

“Ok, I'm gonna ask you this, and I want you to tell me the truth.”

Turning around to look at her, Frank held his breath when he saw the Smith & Wesson on her hand.

“How many guns do you keep in the house?”

Blinking once, Frank stared at her, trying to come up with a nice way to say it.

“Just tell me”, she said after five seconds.

“Seventeen.”

Her eyebrows shot up and she stared back at him, eyes wide.

“Sevente- Why do you need seventeen guns in the house?”

“Protection. Safe keeping. Just in case”, he listed, eyeing the way she was holding it, hand closed around the grip, finger away from the trigger.

“Do you want me to get rid of them?”

She looked at the weapon.

“No”, she said after pondering for a moment. “No, I don’t think that’s necessary. But can you tell me where they all are?”

“Sure.”

“Ok.”

“What are you gonna do? Actually, no. Don’t tell me. Best if I don’t know.”

Matt was lucky that Frank had spent the afternoon at her place. Well, not lucky. Karen suspected he had means of finding that stuff out, even if she never did tell him the extent of her relationship with the Punisher. Not that it was any of his business, anyway.

She walked in, hoping he was still there. It was not uncommon for him to leave, leaving just a note behind.

He was putting his boots on when she walked in.

“Hey”, she greeted, smiling, trying to think fast. “You leaving?”

“Have to go, ma’am.”  

“Oh”, she said, making her voice softer and a bit slower. There was a certain tone that made him more… Agreeable, she had found out. “I thought that maybe we could have dinner together”

She walked to him while he checked one of his guns for bullets.

“Gonna have to take a rain check on that.”

“Are you sure?”, she asked, standing in front of him, stepping closer when he moved to put the gun in the back of his pants. “I have a nice dessert for you”. Standing on her tiptoes, she touched her mouth to his ear, whispering silly, private things. His hand touched her waist, squeezing for a second, but then he stepped away.

“If it goes the way I want it to go, I won’t be long. We can work on that later.”

Pulling on his hand, she turned around and stepped to him again, placing her arms around his neck, this time, to force him to stand still, lips touching his slowly, probing his mouth open with her tongue.

That gave him pause. Karen was proud to feel his tongue moving sensually against hers, both his hands on her waist, now, lowering to her hips, bringing her closer to his a bit. When she sensed he was going to step away from her again, she nibbled on his lower lip and lowered her hands to his chest, moving to speak in his ear once more.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day”, she whispered, biting on his ear lobe, fingers finding the hem of his shirt, threatening to lift.

“Karen”, he warned. It was a warning, but the real ones had more conviction. This was, actually, more of a plead.

“Had to sit there on my desk all day and write about the Punisher, pretending to be detached, pretending I didn’t have you sleeping behind me last night.”

When she moved to suck on the skin of his neck, he moved his face to give her access and she had to stop herself from smiling.

“It’s hard to focus when I know you’re here”. She was practically moaning, now, and when his right hand went inside her skirt to squeeze at the flesh of her ass, she did, lifting his shirt to his chest, going back to his mouth as soon as he finished taking it off.

That didn’t mean she was in the clear. Frank was a determinate man. Being momentarily distracted by her did not make is sure he was not going out that night. So, she decided, she had to pace herself.

In a bold move, she reached behind him to take the gun from him, placing it on the coffee table. He was the only one allowed to touch his guns.

“We won’t be needing that right now”, she said when he tensed.

Smiling, she guided his hands to the zipper of her skirt while she worked on her top. When she was standing there in just her underwear, she pulled him until they reached the couch, kissing him stupid, and pushing him to sit down.

She climbed on his lap, she guided his hands on her, she told many tales in his ear, about how she had spent her day imagining him there, occupying her space, all alone while she worked, told him about daydreams involving his body and his hands and his tongue and that thing he did with his teeth he knew she liked. Karen worked him up, pressed up against him, allowing and denying friction when he wanted it.

She undid his belt and unfastened his jeans. She sank onto him and let him guide her until she could feel he was about to lose control, and then she stopped, kissed him and, when she felt her legs would not give out, got up, pulling him by the hand towards the bathroom.

“What are you doing, ma’am?” he asked, voice low and rough, almost dangerous, hugging her to him, her back firm against his chest, letting go of her hand to close both around her breasts, not exactly delicate. Punisher, indeed.

Not  coming up with an answer that wouldn’t betray her intentions, she just turned around in his arms and went back to kissing him, glad when he let out a breath that could be, maybe, classified as a moan, his tongue not hesitating to taste hers.

Once inside the bathroom, Karen turned the water on, letting the tub fill up. But she did have to keep him occupied until they could get in, so she pushed him against the wall, kissed him hard enough to make her own knees buckle, let him squeeze and press for a while before moving her mouth to his jaw, his ear, whispering that she had been thinking about this all day, licking on his neck, collarbone, his chest and then sinking down to her knees and going to work on him.

His hand alternated between tight holds and little tugs on her hair and gentle caresses, moving the blond strands so he could watch her, little praises and curses falling from his mouth from time to time.

Right before she decided she needed to stop, he pulled her up, and she looked at the tub, they could go in already, but he decided he wanted to press her against the wall. Well, fine by her.

With her breasts and her belly pressed against the cold tiles, she dropped her head on his shoulder, crying out because of that angle, that amazing angle, because of his grunts in her ear, because of his intense pace but his gentle hand around her neck.

He seemed to understand that she wanted it to last. As hard and intense as he was, he kept is as slow as he could, adjusting her against him, kissing her deeply when she angled her face to his, his lips tattooing marks and adoration on her skin, both with his teeth and his words.

Again, when she felt his rhythm faltering, she stopped, and the grunt he let out made her feel both good and bad for him. She had never denied him like that, not even once.

It didn’t last long, though. Once they were in the tub, she moved to sit on his lap, straddling him, kissing and offering her body to him, loving to feel adored. When she felt it was safe to start again, she took him inside one more time, crying out herself this time, already sensitive, already so high up on that precipice.

“Is that good, ma’am?” he asked, making her roll her hips on him, fingers on his right hand going there between them, that nervous trigger finger making her see some stars.

“Yeah”, she breathed out, trying to focus, trying not to lose herself in the feeling of him.

“Yeah?” he confirmed and she nodded, opening her eyes when he took his hand away, both of them, closing his fingers around the edges of the tub, moving to rest his back against the end. “Show me”, he requested and Karen had to breathe deep, biting her lower lip, looking at his face, letting out a smile at the look he gave her, daring, sensual, serious, hungry, powerful, God, of all his crimes, that look should be one of them.

Supporting her hands on his chest, she moved on her own, his legs moving and flexing here and there to help her, the water jostling, her insides burning, she was burning for him.   

“God damn it”, he let out, a hand slipping from his grip on the edge of the tub to close around one breast before sliding up, closing around her throat, going around, pulling her face to his. “You’re too beautiful, fuck”. With teeth on her lower lip and his tongue, indecent, against hers, he placed his left hand back on her hip when she started to tremble around him. “That how you want it?” Her affirmative was wanton, a cry, she held on to his shoulder and his arm, legs tight around him, steadying herself when she could feel the world begin to crumble from within her. “Look at me”, he asked, commanded, and she did, opened her eyes to his, to that evil side smile, lowering her face to get a kiss. “You’re mine”, he decided for the millionth time after he finally admitted it for the first time.

“Yes”, she confirmed, breathy, moving still, moving harder, eyes closing again, because the feeling was becoming too much.

With his face tucked on the curve of her neck, he moved under her, taking over when she became to lose her rhythm.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes, yes”, her heart was going so fast, her legs were trembling. His hand was firm on her hip, gripping flesh and grinding her against him, the other one, in contrast, soft on her face, pulling her hair away from her cheek.

“Then come for me”, he said against her mouth and she didn’t know how he did it, if he was just that good in reading her body or if she was so his that she could do that on command. All she knew is that her vision went white for a second and she forgot herself, lost in feeling and sensation, riding out all that pleasure, enjoying his hands on her, softer, his mouth on her cheek, teeth on her ear lobe, he was still hard and pulsing inside her, and that made her open her eyes, her vision clear again. Karen looked down on his face with hooded eyes, a lazy smile stretching her lips and he smiled back up, unrestrained and open, she loved that smile.

Moving her hips for a while longer, she kissed him again, she could never get enough of kissing him. When his hand tightened on her hip one more time and he grunted against her mouth, she stopped, moaning, slowing him down, kissing him to make it better, moving up and off him, earning a groan and a pull on her leg, trying to bring her back.

“Come on, Frank”, she said, standing up, shivering when he lunged forward and bit the skin of her hip. “Come to bed with me”, she called, turning around, stepping out of the tub, running her towel on her skin to dry herself and remove the residual suds of the soap she had rubbed on both of them at some point. It was a poor job, but it was better than lying down soaking wet on her fresh sheets.

“God, fucking-” Frank cussed, getting up after her, running his own towel precariously over himself and following her out of the bathroom.

She made him lie down when they got there, admiring the view of his body there on her bed, all ready for her.

“I know, baby”, she said, standing on her knees over him, resisting when his hands tried to guide her, scooting up, up, up, hands closing around the rails of the bed, his face lighting up when he realized what she was doing, hands caressing her thighs, no longer trying to guide her. “You’re so good to me, Frank”, she said, hands on his chest, first, then caressing her own sensitive and still slightly damp skin. “You make me feel so good, I never want it to stop.”

“Don’t have to stop”, he promised, shaking his head once, eager, so eager, like a kid wanting his candy. “Come on, I’m here”.

And she gave it to him.

When she lowered herself and his mouth opened on her, hungy and perfect, just perfect, she tossed her head back, holding on for dear life on the bed rails while he took her apart with his teeth and his lips and his tongue, one arm closing around her thigh to keep her there, his elbow there by her hip, the other one shotting up to steady her, keep her up and tease her, getting handful of her breast before splaying out again.

Maybe it was minutes, maybe it was hours, maybe it was mere seconds, Karen lost track of time, she was only aware of her own voice, far away, when he tipped her over that edge again.

She had him in her mouth again before she gave him what he really wanted. Not that he didn’t want her mouth, but it was not his favorite, as much as he liked it.

“Come here, come here”, he breathed out and she kissed her way up his body, turning around towards the foot of the bed, hearing him let out what sounded like a groan within a cry, slapping his hands on her ass when it came into his view.

This wasn’t her favorite, but she knew he liked it. And she could take the chance to gather herself a bit, so there she stayed, looking over her shoulder here and there, to measure his reaction, look at all those muscles contracting, his focus on her body, his hands wandering, and that view, plus that feeling, plus that little voice in her head that kept repeating his name, over and over, she started feeling it again, far and slow, simmering warm, and she knew there was one more crash within her, because it was him, and he knew how to handle her perfectly, as if they had been at it forever and not only just a few months.

When she tossed her hair back and looked at him again, over her other shoulder, his eyes met hers and he sat up, lunging forward and she found herself on her knees and elbows while he moved, hard hard hard, behind her.

Her elbows were the first to give out. Feeling her shoulders complain, she lowered her face to the mattress and stretched her arms in front of her, getting a hold of the foot rails, creating some resistance, crying out, loud moans filling up her bedroom.

“Good?” he asked, he always asked.

“Yeah, God, please-” she had to stop talking in order to breathe.

Then, it was her knees. A dull ache and she relaxed her legs, letting his hands prop her hips up for him. But that didn’t last long. If he had to hold her, he prefered to do it with his arm around her waist, so she found herself on her back again while Frank stood on the floor and bent her leg over his elbow, the other hand supporting his weight on the mattress.

“God, yes, Frank”, she cried and he kissed her neck, his own breathing laboured. “Come on, baby, come on”, it was her turn to say.

“You first”, he growled against her.

“Hmm, no, it’s ok”, she said, breathing out. “I don’t think I c-”

“Yes, you can. Yes, you can, come on”.

A man on a mission, the hand that held her leg up slid down and between them and she bit on the pillow that was right there by her head, screaming into it.

He had to slow down for a minute, to help her build up that fire again, and the nails on his chest were the sign he needed to speed up, to chase his own, she was going to follow naturally.

He collapsed on top of her, hands soothing, lips kissing, arranging her until there was a pillow under her head and a blanket over her body.

“Perfect”, he praised. “You’re perfect.”

He fell asleep before her, not a minute later, holding her to him, done for the night. Karen smiled, picturing the gun he left on the coffee table, all plans of going out forgotten.

She fell asleep tucked into his chest.

.:.

It was not morning when she stirred awake, the street outside was still silent, there was no light coming through the curtains.

Nonetheless, Frank was moving, hands groping, lips warm on her neck, tongue darting out to poke at her skin.

With a sigh, she lifted her hands to his face when he moved to hover over her. Still sleepy, she smiled, arching when his hand dipped low and between them, awakening her body before she could form coherent sentences.

“Should know better than to sleep naked, ma’am”, he whispered, voice rough and low, his fingers agile, warm body settling between her legs. “I wake up and you’re pressed against me”, is all he offered as an explanation, shutting up to suck at the skin of her neck.

It’s slow, loving, full of kisses and sweet caresses, her hands on his back, legs around him while he moves within her, whispering praises and sweet words the world would not expect from the Punisher.

.:.

When the day did break and the sunlight streamed through the window and touched her face, waking her up again, he was breathing deep, in and out, lying on his chest, face buried in one of her pillows, his favorite one, one heavy arm thrown around her waist, on leg hooked with hers, sound asleep.

Sitting up, Karen stretched her arms up and moved to look at him, bending to place a kiss on his face. He didn’t move a muscle.

Frank usually woke up before her, and when he didn’t, one move was enough to rouse him, light sleeper, always vigilant man, Frank Castle. He only slept like that when he was recovering from a particularly violent night of punishing. There was, of course, that one night a few months ago, on his birthday, when she had knocked him out cold after so much sex he accused her or trying to kill him when he did wake up, hours and hours later.

Getting up, Karen smiled as she walked to the kitchen to start the coffee maker, and bit her lower lip on her way to the bathroom, to take a shower and start her day and, still, not a peep out of him.

Turning to his left, he dropped his mouth on the back of her neck, her long hair smelling of the floral shampoo that now lived in his bathroom, his hand gliding from her shoulder to her back, the dip of her waist, fingers bunching on the fabric of the T shirt she wore to bed. His Columbia Law one.

“Get this off”, he whispered and she stirred, curling her toes.

“Hmm?” she “asked”, turning her head, not really reacting when he pulled on her underwear, sliding it down her legs.

“Off, take this off”, he repeated, throwing the small garment behind him on the floor.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because I want you naked. Please?”

She moved her arms so he could pull the shirt off her, her skin warm, soft, vanilla scented.

Matt moved to pull the covers more securely around them, satisfied with the temperature of the room - no need to get up and adjust the heater.

“You’re not getting naked?” she asked, apparently not really caring, turning to face him, cuddling against his chest.

“Later. Now I just want to feel you”, he said, hugging her to him, hand travelling under the covers over plains of smooth, uninterrupted skin.

“Hmm. Ok.” Karen dropped a kiss on his collarbone and closed her eyes again, ready to fall back asleep.

A few seconds, though, and she was moving again, hands grabbing his shirt.

“At least this one”, she whispered when he smiled, moving his arms to take it off. “God, you look great”, she said, dropping kisses on his chest, hands holding his arms.

“Glad you think so.”

“I do. You know I do.”

Karen moved to lie on her side again, her naked body molding around his, breasts pressed against his chest, hand on his back, the both of them tangled together, occupying the center of the big mattress.

“My feet are cold”, she complained, rubbing her soles on the sweatpants he still had on.

“They’ll be warm in a minute”, he said, kissing her face, tucking the heavy duvet around her more securely.

She fell back asleep soon, breathing on his chest, hand relaxing on his back, resting against the mattress. The snow kept falling outside, the wind picking up here and there, shutting the city up.

Matt’s world of fire was, for once, silent when he fell back asleep.

It had been a trying day, with many, many messes that needed his attention at once. When he got home, it was decided he was not going back out. Shower, dinner, bed. He felt like an old man, groaning while taking his tie off.

After his long shower, he picked up his phone to call Karen. He knew she was working on an article, her deadline approaching, and odds were he'd not be able to see her until Wednesday, but at least he could hear her voice, tell her he missed her, ask about her day.

“Hey”, she said, picking up. “I was just going to call you.”

“Hi, love, how you doing?”

“Good. Tired. I'm about to pass out.”

“How's the article?”

“I finished it, thank God.”

“Thought you were gonna need one more night, at least.”

“Yeah, but I didn't sleep last night and skipped luch today, so.”

He clicked his tongue.

“Don't do that, Karen.”

“I know, I know. So I was thinking. Would it be ok if I came over?”

He smiled.

“Of course. I'm not going out tonight.” And if his voice was heavy with suggestion, he didn't feel guilty.

It had been two weeks since they last had a chance to… enjoy each other. Since the last time he slept over at her place, they had both been so busy, quick lunches and hurried dinners were all they could manage, just to steal quick kisses and hold each other’s hand before going back to their respective battles. Yes, he missed her. Missed touching her without being in public, kiss her not so chastely, run his hands up and down her body, removing clothes and raising shivers, missed hearing her sigh and moan, open up to him, her own hands doing their magic on him, her lips and her hair, Matt missed her so much.

“You sure?”

“Yes, I'm sure. I'll be waiting.”

He ought to be ashamed at how overly-smooth his voice sounded. But she chuckled.

“Ok, I'll be right there.”

He actually dozed off on the couch, while he waited for her, picturing all the ways he would be reacquainted with her body. When her heels clicked down the hall, though, he woke up, got up and walked to the door, opening it as she arrived, smiling, sighing as her hands reached out and touched his neck, fingers weaving into his hair, her kisses on his lips.

He closed the door and guided her inside, hands taking her purse from her shoulder, ridding her of her coat, taking the thing holding her hair together off, making it fall against her back and his fingers.

“Hmm”, she started, kicking off her shoes, turning around inside his arms, unbuttoning her own shirt while he unzipped her skirt and dragged his lips on her neck. “I missed you.”

He made an agreeing sound, hands tightening around her, letting his senses focus on her, the scent of her shampoo, the warmth of her skin, the beat of her heart, the tensing of her muscles when he touched her somewhere she liked.

When she was standing there on her underwear, he turned her around and almost moaned when she ran her hands from his shoulders and down his chest.

“You wanna know something funny?” she asked.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t even like my bed anymore”, she confessed, pressing slow, small kisses on his lips and turning around to crawl on top of his mattress, to the side she usually occupied, on the far end. “I like yours better.”

He smiled, moving to follow her, holding a frown when she lied down on her stomach, hugging her pillow against her, a long, moan-like sigh leaving her. Settling.  

“Why is that?” he asked, a hand on her hip, moving to run his palm on her ass, gripping, because he missed that so much. When she arched into it, he moved to place a kiss on her shoulder.  

“It’s lonely in there”, she replied, and her voice was too slow, too lazy. Matt took a deep breath while she adjusted her head on the pillow, moving her feet to pull the cover on top of her. “And it doesn’t have silk sheets. And your mattress is better.”

When she wiggled enough that the silky blanket was around her hips, he stopped, supporting his weight on his elbow.

“You came over just to sleep on my bed?”

“No, I came to see you”, she replied, reaching a hand and caressing his face. “But yes, I also came for the bed.”

He thought about trying to change her mind with kisses and caresses, private and silly things whispered in her ear, but she was already breathing deep, her eyes were already closed, she was already falling asleep.

So he let out a sigh, deciding that he was tired, too, so he would just place a kiss on her temple and settle by her side.

“Don’t worry”, she said, hooking one of her legs with his when he lied down. “We’ll play in the morning.”

.:.

Morning, apparently, came rather early. He was pretty sure it was still the middle of the night when he woke up to the weight of her on top of him, legs around his hips, lips on his neck, hands wandering all over. Blinking sleep away, he lifted his hand and touched her thigh, trying to organize his senses.

“What time is it?”

“Time to play”, was her answer, sitting up on his belly to remove her own bra, leaning in again to place a kiss on his mouth, down to his neck, spending some time on his chest and torso before curling her fingers around the hem of his sweatpants, dragging them down.

Yes, he decided. Karen could use his bed whenever she felt like it.  

From day two, she was transferred to Matt’s apartment, because it was bigger, and the roof access made it so much easier for him and Frank to come and go at all hours, without having to worry about the neighbors.

Reluctantly, at first, Karen accepted her forced vacation. But Matt came back with food every day, Frank was going out less, they both spent more time with her. Not that she wasn’t before, but now she was treated with such reverence, she started feeling like an honest to God princess.

A week later and it was much easier to relax. She didn’t mind, really, being carried from bed to the couch or the dinner table by strong arms every time she felt like moving. She didn’t mind being catered to by Daredevil and the Punisher, one word enough to make them stay instead of going out at night. She didn’t mind being kissed and caressed with adoration way, way more often, and she certainly didn’t mind sleeping between them every night, her injured leg propped on a pillow, their combined heat almost enough to fight the cold winter air outside.

Karen didn’t mind at all.

“You really not gonna tell me who did this to you, huh?” Frank asked one evening, while they sat on the couch, her back supported on his chest, his fingers running a few strands of her hair between them lazily.

“I keep telling you, nobody did this to me. It was my fault”, she insisted, her leg stretched in front of her, an ice packon top of her ankle. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Still”, he said, his right hand picking hers up, stroking her palm delicately. “I’d like to know.”

“The guy took me to the hospital, Frank. He wasn’t trying to hurt me.”

He just grunted behind her while Matt arrived with her tea, rubbing Max’s back to make the dog get up and off the couch so he could sit.

“You know Jessica can find his name in two seconds, right?” he asked, moving the ice pack from her foot - which he supported on top of his legs - to her hip, the part that was still colored a sickly purple and sore.

“She won’t, I asked her not to.”

“I’m not gonna kill him, if that’s what you’re worried about”, Frank offered, as if that thought was absurd.

“I know. But I don’t want you scaring him to death, either. He was a nice guy, was more scared than I was. Apologised a million times, offered to buy me coffee.”

“That wasn’t him being nice”, Matt said, fingers still on the ice pack on her hip, other hand on her foot. “That was him making a move.”

“Oh, stop it.”

“He’s not wrong.” Frank mused behind her. “He asked for your number?”

“To ‘check on you’?”

“Because he was oh so worried?”

“No, he didn’t!” He had. But Foggy had gotten there before she could assure the guy - Greg - that there was no need, she was fine. “What’s for dinner? I’m hungry”, she said, inhaling the steam of her sweet vanilla tea.

“You want me to order something?” Matt caressed her uninjured leg while she rested her head on Frank’s shoulder.

“I’m getting kinda sick of take out”, the Punisher said, moving to get up. “I’ll make us something, how’s that?”

Karen smiled at him and moved to accept his kiss once he was up and off the couch.

“Thank you”, she whispered against his lips.

He hummed, kissing her slowly, taking his time. When he straightened up, his hand on her cheek was light and soft while he talked to Matt.

“We don’t have anything to cook, though, right?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Ok, I’ll go out, see if I can get something good.”

He moved to put his shoes and coat on, plus the three guns he never left without, and Karen reached to Matt, because she was becoming a spoiled brat who couldn’t be left unattended for more than thirty seconds.

“Oh”, she said to Frank. “Bring cheesecake.”

He offered her that side smile that he only offered to her. Maybe Matt, sometimes.

“Anything else, ma’am?”

“Surprise me.”

He winked at her.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

When the door closed behind him, she pulled Matt by the hand, who maneuvered himself gently until he was lying on top of her, avoiding all her bruises and injured areas.

“I’m a little cold”, she declared, hands around his shoulders, and then on his face, feeling the pleasant scratch of his stubble on her palms.

“I’ll get you a blanket”, he said, moving to get up, but she pulled him back, keeping him there by curling her uninjured leg around his hips.

“No, you be my blanket.”

Smiling, he moved them until he was lying on the couch, too, both of them on their sides, facing each other, legs and arms intertwined.

God, did he have to look so good?

Karen let her eyes wander around his face, down to his neck, fingers tracing his collarbone, feeling the hard muscles there.

“See something you like, Miss Page?” he asked, his own hand resting on her hip.

“I do”, she lowered her hand, finding the hem of his shirt and sneaking it under the fabric, feeling the hard muscles of his abs under her palm. “But stop reading me.”

“I won’t”, he said, moving just like so, enjoying her hand on him, tightening his own on her hip, bringing it closer to his. He smelled of her fabric softener and she smiled, remembering how she kept finding his and Frank’s laundry among hers and how her nosy neighbor thought all the articles of men’s clothes belonged to her “boyfriend”. Singular. “Reading you is my favorite thing.”

She smiled, moving her chin up so his teeth could find the skin on that spot on her neck that he knew exactly how to kiss. Frank wasn’t so good on that spot. He was good in others, but that one, Matt was sole champion of.

“Some would call that cheating”, she said, feeling the muscles of his torso move as he breathed.

“I call it an advantage”, he replied, pulling her to him by the small of her back, careful with her bruises. “That’s how I know you like this”, he poked his tongue on that sweet spot, making her close her eyes and enjoy the slight shiver that ran through her. “But I know you like this better”. He pulled on her hair a bit and, oh, yes, she did like that. A lot.

With her hand on his bicep, now, she rolled her hips against his a bit, letting out a sigh when he rolled his back, his mouth open on her, teeth and tongue hard at work.

“Everyone should have a boyfriend with super powers, I swear.”

He chuckled, ducking his hand under her shirt, rising it until his fingers were ghosting around the skin under her breasts. She always responded very well to that.

When Frank came back with Max, they were making out on the couch, Matt’s shirt on the floor.

“Frank’s here”, he said against her lips when he started down the hall. “He’s gonna be mad”, he said, and she could feel the little smile he had on.

She kept kissing him, he kept squeezing the flesh of her thigh, fingers going under the hem of her shorts to grab at her butt.

As predicted, Frank clicked his tongue when he saw them.

“Can’t leave you two alone for one minute”, he mused, closing and locking the door behind him again, Max trailing to the couch to inspect what exactly Matt was doing to his favorite person. “C’mon, Red, get off of her”, he said, walking past the couch to put the groceries on the kitchen counter.

“Or”, Karen said, petting Max quickly before pushing him away gently. “You could come here.”

“I can’t, can I? Need to make you dinner”.

Still, he took his coat off and bent from behind the couch to catch her mouth in his while Matt was, again, hard at work on that little spot on her neck.

While he kissed her, slow and open and sensually, his hand found Matt’s back, rising from between his shoulders to the back of his neck, where he caressed once before closing his fist, pulling on his hair, yanking him away from Karen’s neck, taking his own lips from hers, coming to whisper against his face.

“You’re supposed to be taking care of her, Red”

The smile Matt flashed him was lazy and a bit cocky.

“I am.”

Frank looked at him for a few seconds and Karen saw his hand rearrange around a chunk of Matt’s hair. He leaned in and touched the tip of his nose to his. After grazing their lips together for a fleeting moment, he turned his face to hers.

“Are you being good?” he asked her.

“The best”, she replied.

”Are you being good?” he asked Matt, turning his face back to his. Matt, again, smiled, nodded and leaned in, pressing his mouth to Frank’s for a few seconds, backing away with a nip of his bottom lip.

“Yes, sir. Go make dinner so we can all cuddle later”, he said, his smiling growing when Frank rolled his eyes before straightening back up, walking to the kitchen.

“I don’t cuddle.”

“Yes, you do”, she and Matt both replied, her hands on  his cheek, his eyes closed, focusing on the caress.

Frank started on their dinner, moving around the kitchen, chopping vegetables, frying onions, making Max cry at the scent of sizzling steak, working on the mashed potatoes Karen learned to love (any other mashed potatoes were unacceptable, now. She only liked Frank’s). Eventually, she asked Matt to let her up, and he carried and sat her on the counter, plopping a freshly washed cherry in his mouth.

“Smells good”, she praised, hugging Matt from behind, legs and arms around him while she watched Frank finish their lunch.

They ate at the table, her leg supported on top of Frank’s knees. He and Matt talked about the development of the last “case” they were working on, trying to determine if their lead that Fisk was still commanding Hell’s Kitchen from inside the prison was true or not.

When they were done, Matt offered to do the dishes, since Frank had prepared everything.

“I can help”, she said, moving to get up while Matt picked up their plates.

“Na-ah, Your Highness”, Frank said, getting up himself, motioning for her to stay, not unlike how he did with Max. “You sit down. There’s a slice of cheesecake for you.”

She smiled and waited as he went to get it. When she realized, after a minute or two of looking out the window, that it was too quiet, Karen turned around to find Frank holding Matt’s face to his, the fridge door open, kissing him slowly, but intensely.

“Hey!” she called. “I’m waiting!”

With a smile, Matt separated from Frank and walked to the sink to start on the dishes. Frank ducked his head and came back with her cheesecake, closing the door, walking to her.

“There you go, ma’am.”

“Thanks”, she said, lifting her face, asking for her own kiss, admitting to herself that she was so spoiled now, they turned her into an attention whore. “And I prefer ‘Your Highness’.”

“Copy that.”

She ate half of her cheesecake and insisted on walking to bed afterwards, limping, supporting her weight against Frank, since her leg and her hip still hurt. He said “fuck it” after five slow steps, not a fan of watching her wince and limp to the bedroom.

“There you go”, he said, lowering her to the bed.

After the dishes were done, Matt joined them on the bed, spooning her, bringing both her and Frank closer to him, and she actually thought that they were calling it a night, but after 20 minutes, he kissed the back of her head and got up, walking towards the place where he kept his suit.

“You’re going out tonight?” she asked, turning to him, feeling Frank pulling her against his chest.

“Yes, sweetheart, I have to”, he said, an apology in his voice.

“Hmm”, she said, watching as he shed his home clothes to put on the suit. “Is Trish gonna be there?”

He chuckled, angling his head towards her a bit.

“I think so. Why?”

“No, nothing. Just curious.”

He stopped, turned around and walked back to the bed, lying down on his belly, face close to hers, the tip of their noses touching.

“Are you jealous or Trish Walker?”

“No, of course not. She’s my friend.”

He waited.

“But…?”

“But I know you may have a thing for blonds.”

Both him and Frank chuckled.

“Wrong. I have a thing for a blond. And I didn’t even know the color of your hair until you told me, so.”

“Still.”

Offering her a sweet peck, he dropped his voice.

“Don’t be silly, Karen. Trish is just helping us with some information.”

“Ok. I know. Go.”

He lied there for a few seconds, probably trying to determine what to do.

“Ok”, he finally said, careful. “I won’t be long, though.”

“Fine.”

With that, she turned around and hid her face inside Frank’s chest, arm curled between them, urging him to hold her tighter. Karen felt him raising his head to look at Matt, and she still didn’t know how they managed to communicate without speaking, but they did, and they were.

“Claire gonna be there, too?” she asked, as if pushing him towards a decision.

“Alright, Your Highness”, he said after a sigh. He sat on the edge of the bed and reached for his phone. “I’ll call and say I won’t be able to make it tonight.”

She smiled against Frank’s chest, hiding her lips from herself.

When he was done with his quick phone call, he returned to his original spot behind her.

“There. You happy?” he asked, and she tried hard to detect anger or irritation in his voice. She didn’t. Only mild, not really serious annoyance.

“Yes. Thank you”, she moved her hips back a little, to mold herself to him while he adjusted the pillow under her injured leg.

Frank kissed the top of her head and Matt kissed the spot behind her ear, both had his hands on her, holding and caressing and soothing.

She was such a brat. Spoiled, full of demands, could not stand not being the center of their attention.

Well. A car had hit her. She’d start working on letting the princess go in the morning.

For now, she had some aggressive cuddling to do.

“You alright, man?” Luke asked him while they sat there on his roof, waiting for Danny.

“Yeah”, he replied, turning his head towards his friend. “Why?”

“I don’t know, you seem… Different.”

“Different?” he smirked.

“Yeah. Like… Giddy.”

“Oooh, he got some”, Jessica teased, walking down the edge of the building, playing the balance game.

He could feel Luke smiling and looking at him.

“My man”, he praised, punching him on the shoulder, and Matt winced.

“Watch those fists, Power Man”, he said, giving up on containing his smile.

Luke asked for details, Jessica teased some more, but he kept his mouth shut. He was not going to tell them about the long, exciting, incredible night he had with Karen, where they released all the built up desire of two weeks worth or incompatible calendars, interruptions and miscommunication. Matt would keep it to himself how she had stopped by his office and sat on his lap while he was on a conference call with Danny Rand and the DA’s office, loosened his tie, undid the top buttons of his shirt and his belt, teasing him while he talked about bank transfers and legal deals.

The way he had gotten up, sat her on his desk and planted himself between her thighs, groping and kissing her silly, hand going from her knee to her hip, bringing her closer while Tower talked, would remain a secret.

As would their walk home (she had insisted they walked, just so she could whisper the most toe-curling suggestions in his ear every time they had to stop and wait to cross the street).

Matt was not going to tell them how she pulled him through an alley, kissed him soundly, weaving her hands around his neck and into his hair, rolled her body off the wall towards him, allowed him to kiss her neck and stick a hand up her dress and then pushed him off her, taking his hand and leading him towards the busy avenues again, deciding they needed to get coffee at the most crowded Starbucks she could find.

Finally, he was not going to tell them how he didn’t wait until they got to his apartment to start undressing her, lowering the zipper of her dress while they still climbed the stairs, raising it above her head on the hallway, making her gasp and giggle, covering her body with his as she unlocked the door with the key she had fished from his pocket - again taking a lot longer than she needed to - one of his hands inside her bra, the other teasing the elastic of her underwear, or how he pressed her to the wall again when they were, finally, inside, the door closed behind them. Matt wished he could tell them how he had to kiss her silent while he moved inside her, because she was very vocal and Fran, nosy, grumpy Fran, had opened her door and was standing there looking out at the empty hall, trying to listen.      

But no. He would tell them none of that. That’s between him and Karen. And he’s a gentleman.

Just then, the door opened and there she was, dress dancing around her legs while she stepped into the wind.

“You forgot this”, she told him, handing him his burner phone. “Hi guys.”

“Oh, hi Karen!” Jessica jumped from the ledge and walked to her, taking her arm and walking them back inside. “It’s been a while. How are you?”

Luke waved, grinning.

“Jessica”, Matt tried to stop them, because he knew she was just trying to get information to make fun of him later. She’s not really the type to gossip about boys. “We have work to do.”

“Danny’s not here, is he?” she said, “Call me when he arrives. I need a break.”

And they disappeared back inside.

Great.

“They’re gonna talk about you, man”, Luke offered, unnecessarily.

Matt sighed.

“I know.”

.:.

He hated dealing with the mayor. Hated it. It was necessary, he got good information (plus good money) while doing it, but oh, he hated it. It’s been a month of it and he was closer and closer to punching the man on the throat.

Matt got home and found Karen sitting on the couch, her leg twitching.

“Oh, there you are!” she breathed out, getting up and walking to him, pulling him by the hand until they reached the couch again.

He let himself be pulled, loosening his tie, dropping his bag on one of the chairs, his cane against it.

“What’s up?” he asked, sitting by her on the couch, pulling one of her legs to his lap to run his hands from her ankle to her knee. “Everything ok?”

“I need to, uh…” she started, and he frowned at the shaky quality in her voice. “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?” he asked, listening to her heart beating a little faster than usual. But, otherwise, everything seemed ok, and she was letting him massage her leg, so he figured it was nothing huge. With a side smile to maybe help her relax a bit, he cocked his head. “Are you pregnant?”, he joked.

But then he listened as her breath caught and she froze for a moment, her heart going even faster.

The smile on his face faltered.

“How did you- Can you- Can you sense that already?!” she asked, and her voice was definitely shaking now.

His own heart sped up.

“Wha- Are you- I was kidding! You really are pregnant?!”

Tuning in to the point he could hear her bones moving as she breathed, he senses as her skin awakened in shivers, her chin trembled and her face twisted in a sad scowl, the tears spilling from her eyes.

“Oh my G-” his hands were glued to her legs as she took her own to her face to try and stop the tears that were coming. “When, since when do you-” he didn’t know what to ask. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, letting out a shuddering breath that he felt all the way inside his chest.

“I went to see Claire today after lunch. We spent the afternoon doing a million tests. I’m sure.”

The ground left from under him for a moment that stretched. His palms went cold and all the reasons why a baby was the worst idea started jumbling in his mind, one after the other, and he didn’t even have time to analyze any of them.

“Matt?” her voice sounded far. “Please say something.”

And then a thought. One simple thought of him, holding a small baby in his arms, followed by another, of Karen singing a lullaby. Another, of them trying to bathe a little kid, of them looking for a bigger apartment. Another, of someone calling him “dad”.

He was going to be someone’s dad. And Karen would be their mom. She was- and he was- they were having a baby.

“Oh God, Matt, please, please say something”, her voice sounded closer, one of her hands on his arm.

He shook his head once and then got up, pulling her from the couch and then hugging her tight to him.

Karen blinked furiously, her hands closing in fists and opening again, before she rested them on his arms, right before he caught her face and kissed her through her tears, his own hands shaking, now, his heart beating so hard he could hear it.

“Are- are you happy? she asked and he had to laugh.

“Of course I’m happy, are you kidding me?!”

“Oh my God, Matt, you scared the shit out of me!” she said, letting the tears come, now, not trying to stop them anymore and he laughed, kissing her through it, her lips, her face, hugging her to him again.

“You’re not happy?” he asked.

“I don’t know, I’ve been freaking out!”

He laughed again, he couldn’t seem to stop laughing.

Picking her up, he made her wrap her legs around his waist and sat down on the couch again, with her sitting on top of him. When she let go of his shoulders to take her hands to her face and wipe the tears away, he waved his fingers through her hair and brought her face to his because he wanted to kiss her again.

“Oh shit, we’re having a kid”, he said, that smile still there, he couldn’t control it. “I’m gonna call you baby-momma, now.”

That little sentence seemed to turn things around for her. With tears still falling down her eyes, she let out a deep laughter that shook her whole body.    

“Oh no, please don’t”, she said, crying and laughing. “You can’t pull that off.”

.:.

A month later and he was about to crawl out of his skin. He wanted to tell everyone, publish it on the front page of the Bulletin everyday, print out flyers and dump them from the top of the Empire State, lit up Times Square with the news. He’s going to be a father.

But, so far, he could only let his excitement out around Karen and Claire. It was too soon to start telling people, they reasoned. “Calm down”, they told him. Claire only let him pick her up once, when he went to see her the next day. She laughed and congratulated him, but then told him to put her down. He would hang out in her office a lot, now, following her around as she treated patients, asking questions, cataloguing all her answers, trying to keep his mouth shut around friends and the other people they knew, but he wanted to scream it.

I’m having a baby!

Karen was, thank goodness, ok with the idea, now, so she let him vent. Laughed with him and at him, but it was better than the doubts that had made her so anxious those first weeks.

“I love you”, he would tell her, every chance he could, every time he remembered it. He would call her in the middle of the day just to say it, just to hear her breathing on the other side of the line.

“I love you too”, she would answer.

.:.

When they hit the seven weeks mark (he counted his time in weeks, now), he woke Foggy up.

“The hell, man?” his friend asked, opening the door for him, still half asleep.”It’s my day off.”

“I have news”, he said, walking past him and into the living room, listening to make sure Marci wasn’t there.

“What? You made the Avengers!”

“Wha- no! Stop it with the Avengers thing”. When Foggy closed the door and walked to join him in the living room, he felt himself smile.

“You’re scaring me dude, what is it?”

“I’m having a baby.”

Foggy stared at him for a second or two.

“What do you mean?”

Matt frowned.

“I mean Karen’s pregnant.”

“Karen Page?”

His shoulders sagged.

“No, some random Karen I just met downstairs. Yes, of course Karen Page!”

“You’re shitting me”, Foggy said, and Matt was glad to hear the smile forming.

“Nope.”

“Dude! What the fuck, you’re gonna be a dad!”

They hugged and laughed and then they ran out the door. Some twenty minutes later and they were walking into Karen’s office, who looked at them from behind her computer.

“Foggy, hey!”, she greeted while Matt closed the door to give them privacy. “What’s going on, guys?”

“What do you mean ‘what’s going on’, mom?” he asked, walking to her and pulling her up and into a hug. “I’m so happy for you!”

Karen sighed and hugged him back.

“Oh, thanks! Matt? I thought we were gonna wait?!”

He shrugged.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help it.”

That night they went out for drinks - Karen had a sparkling apple cider. Matt and Foggy had way too many whiskeys.

.:.

Nine weeks rolled in and all he wanted to do was talk to the bump. Tell it stories of how he met Karen, how she sneaked up on him and when he realized he liked her it was too late to go back. Make plans about the future and ask it if it was cozy in there. And tell it he loves it.

Because he did. He already loved this tiny bundle of cells so much, it was strange.

He would make Karen sit on the couch while he sat on the floor, talking to the bump.

He would sleep on his front, his pillow on the middle of the bed, his hand on the bump.

He would kiss her goodbye when they left for work, and then he would bend to kiss the bump.

His world turned around the bump.

.:.

Foggy teared up when Matt asked if he would be godfather. Claire smiled and gathered his face for a big kiss on his cheek when asked if she would be godmother. They both said “of course”.

Trish visited with a huge basket full of baby things and asked if Karen had time to talk business.

.:.

At 23 weeks, they found a new apartment.

They had officially moved in together a week or two after she told him about the baby, but the kid wouldn’t fit in his loft, so off they went looking for a new place.

The new one was bigger. He was finally making more money, consulting with the mayor’s and the DA’s office so often like that, and Karen’s new job at Trish Talk payed better (that was one of the pitch points the Jessica’s sister had made when she offered her the position. More money, a nice long maternity leave, as long as she worked exclusively for them, now).

“What do you think?” she asked when Foggy and Jane, the realtor lady, stepped out to give them some time.

He shook his head, smiling.

“I’m happy wherever my girls are.”

She smiled and kissed him.

“We don’t know if it’s a girl yet.”

“I do. It’s a girl.”

She shook her head, pulling him outside.

“Whatever you say.”

.:.

He was right. When the baby finally stopped in a position where the doctor could tell, she raised her eyebrows.

“Looks like dad was right. It’s a girl.”

He almost cried. He already knew, without a shadow of a doubt, but to have everybody else know, for sure, that there was a little girl coming their way made him almost lose his cool.

That night, while they lied in their bed in the new apartment, surrounded by boxes, he caressed Karen’s belly and spoke to his unborn daughter, as he would everyday.

“Dad loves you, baby girl”, he said when Karen was falling asleep.

For the first time, the baby kicked with enough confidence for him to suspect she heard him.

Karen chuckled.

“Ow.”

After that, every time he said he loved either one of them, Karen’s response would be “we love you too.”

.:.

At 27 weeks, the Punisher gave him some advice.

He had been freaking out a bit, thinking about how he was going to raise a kid in this world, this city, amidst all that… Ugliness he saw everyday. How was he gonna raise a child when he did what he did.

When Frank Castle confronted him, having noticed he was unfocused and sloppy, Matt didn’t really put up a fight in telling him.

He told him about the pregnancy, told him about his doubts. The ex-military scoffed.

“Jesus Christ, you two are the most dramatic pair I’ve ever met in my life.”

“What do you mean?”, he asked.

Frank explained how difficult it had been, being a father and going to war, not being there every day for his kids. How he put himself in danger every day and how he missed his family like crazy, how it almost did drive him crazy a few times.

“What you do here, Red, is it’s own kind of war. But you get to see them everyday, you get to be here. All you gotta do is be smart about it. But don’t be a pussy and give up the best thing in your life. That’s what’s gonna keep you sane.”

Matt turned that notion in his head until the next night, when Frank met him with on a random roof. He shoved a bottle of beer in his hand.

“Congratulations, choir boy.”

After the baby was born, “Uncle Frank” became one of her favorite sitters, as well as her parent’s (it’s good to know you got the Punisher watching your kid. Nothing’s gonna go through that ray of sunshine).

.:.

At 30 weeks, Karen was restless.

Her clothes didn’t fit anymore, she was uncomfortable all the time, and the little princess-warrior inside her felt like she needed to stretch every five minutes.

“Hey, baby”, he would whisper, running his hand on the belly while Karen lied on her side on the bed in her underwear (she was perpetually hot, now), in a mood. “Stop hurting mommy.”

“It’s my own fault. Getting knocked up by a ninja.”

He smiled.

“No matter what mommy says, daddy’s not a ninja, peanut. It’s important you know that.”

“Of course he’s not. He’s just a blind lawyer who can kick anybody’s ass and hand it to them. That’s not a ninja.”

That night, they found out their peanut would calm down when they both talked to her.

Turns out, like daddy, she liked the sound of Karen’s voice. And, like mommy,she would relax when Matt talked to her, using that soothing tone mom loves so much.

.:.

At week 39, Matt opened his eyes in the middle of the night.

His pillow was, as per usual, by Karen’s huge bump. He had just fallen asleep, his nose almost touching her belly, but a strange sound woke him up.

“Karen. Karen, wake up.”

“Hmm, what?”

“It’s time”, he said at the same time she sat up, gasping. Her water had broken.

He shot out of bed, phone in hand, bag on his shoulder, running around like a headless chicken while Karen got dressed, asking him to “calm down, please!”

Foggy was there in record time with the car. Claire was waiting for them at the hospital door when they arrived, he was trying his best to keep it together while Karen tried not to scream at the contractions.

“Let it out, girl, it’s gonna get worse than that”, Claire instructed.

After three hours of hearing Karen scream and having his hand squeezed to the point of pain, he was holding his daughter in his arms, Foggy was calling everyone, Karen was sleeping and the peanut was squeezing his finger as tight as she could - which was nothing compared to the pressure Karen had applied to it. Well, compared to anything, really.         

And Matt was finding out he didn’t really know what love was before that night. He had a vague idea, but he didn’t know.

.:.

She liked to sleep in his arms.

Karen was the one accepted to bathe her, feed her (obviously) and almost everything else. But, when it came to sleeping, she wanted him to rock her in his arms and talk to her until her little eyes closed.

More than once, Karen would find him, dressed as his alter ego, mask and everything, walking to and fro in the nursery while peanut had her three AM bottle of formula. She was developing a schedule very similar to Matt’s vigilante activities.

.:.

“Guys, just go!” Foggy told them, his goddaughter sitting on his leg, munching on a pacifier.

“Go!”, their baby echoed. At six months, she was a regular chatterbox and would repeat virtually every one syllable word she heard.  

The first date night after the baby was born was proving to be hard on both of them.

“I’m on my phone”, Matt told him, putting his jacket on. “On both of them, actually.”

“Ok”, Foggy said, bouncing the little girl on his knee, making her giggle.

“And mine!” Karen said, putting her heels on. “And if you can’t reach us, call the restaurant.”

“And if you can’t get the restaurant, call Claire.”

“Kéh!”

“But she’s busy tonight. If you can’t get her, call Frank.”

“Fwank!”

“And if I can’t get him, I’ll call the Avengers”, he rolled his eyes. “Guys, it’s ok. I got this. We’re gonna have fun, aren’t we, chubby?”

The baby laughed at him, spitting out her pacifier, drooling on her own shirt. Foggy laughed.

“Gross. Go, get out of here!”

“Ok”, Karen said, bending to kiss the little girl’s forehead. “Bye, peanut.”

“Bye!”

“We’ll be back soon, ok?”

“Ok?” the baby echoed.

When Matt took more than ten seconds on his farewell, Foggy snapped.

“Go, Murdock!” he shouted.

“Murdock!” peanut shouted after him.

The three grown ups stared at her. When she said it again, they all screamed and crowded her.

They didn’t leave for another hour.

.:.

His weekend weren’t for sleeping in anymore.

Usually at seven, eight at most, he would be shaken, poked, trampled on by a little storm in the shape of a small girl.

“Daddy, wake up!” she would urge, tiny hands around his arm, shaking him awake. If that didn’t work, she would climb on top of him and poke him until he opened his eyes.

“Ok, ok, I’m up, baby, I’m up”, he had to say, to make her stop.

“It’s breakfast time!” And off to the kitchen she ran, where Karen was usually already preparing her favorite meal of the day.

His ritual of getting up, walking to the kitchen, picking her up to place her in her chair, kissing the top of her head and then getting his good morning greeting from Karen was something he treasured more than anything in the world. Nothing beat having his girls with him in the kitchen, the day barely starting, but already so full of love, of everything that made him whole.

That Saturday, after lunch, they loaded her into Claire’s car. They would spend the afternoon at her mom’s diner in Harlem, making cupcakes for the day care party on Monday.

“Bye, daddy!” She shouted as Claire drove away. “I’m waving!” She added and he smiled, waving back, sensing that little hand waving back and forth at him.

Getting back inside, he found Karen in their girl’s room, picking up the action figures scattered around the floor. When she got up, he put his arms around her waist and his nose on the crook of her neck.

“So”, she said, pulling him back into their room, after he took a proper good morning kiss. “I have some news.”

“Oh?” He asked. She’s been all secretive all week, and the phone calls with Trish have been more frequent. Plus, Ellison wanted her back. He suspected she got that promotion. But he wasn’t gonna spoil her surprise. “Good or bad?”

She breathed and smiled, caressing his face. She was about to say something when he joked:

“You’re not pregnant again, are you?”

She froze.