#punishock

Tesla Jellymon used Punishock!

Tesla Jellymon used Punishock!

October 10 - "They're not good enough for you" Darcy/Frank for @jim-is-spocks-thyla

Set in the Excellent Taste In Dogs AU; I was asked for a follow-up to this ficlet, where Frank and Darcy go to the wedding together.

This came at a really good time because an amazing picture of Jon Bernthal and his dog crossed my Tumblr dash just yesterday. Imagine Frank turning up dressed like this to take Darcy to the wedding… *swoon*

May 11 - "You wouldn't dare!" Frank/Darcy for @thatpunkmaximoff

Set later in the same AU as Excellent Taste In Dogs :)

“Darcy?” Frank opened the door, calling her name. There was no answer, so he fetched Buddy’s leash. The pit bull cross bounced excitedly as Frank came to collect him.

“Come on, pal. We’ll take a walk and get some dinner. I’m sure she won’t be long.” He texted her on the way out. Indian or Thai?

Thai please, angel, the response came back within a minute. Hopefully be home in about half an hour.

Frank grinned, tucking his phone back into his jacket pocket. He was the furthest possible thing from an angel. Except that’s what Darcy always called him. Guardian Angel of Hell’s Kitchen, she said. If they have a Devil, then they should have an angel too.

He chuckled quietly to himself at the thought of what Red would say if he knew.  He and Red got along pretty well these days. “Did you actually get a hobby?” Red asked him the last time they met up on a rooftop. “Or is it a woman?”

Red must have heard his pulse increase, because Daredevil made a startled noise. “Huh, it is a woman!”

“Found my soulmate,” Frank admitted. “And no, she ain’t some kind of murderous madwoman runnin’ amok on the streets of some other district.”

“Never thought she would be,” came the quietly murmured response. “Well, reckon she’s good for you, Frank. Take care of her.”

“I intend to,” he’d responded fervently.

He took a detour now. It was late. While he was certain Darcy would take a cab home from work, he’d rather walk her. And Buddy would be glad to see her, anyway.

He stopped at a Thai restaurant on the way to order dinner; they could pick it up on the way back. His timing was perfect, Darcy was just walking out of the Tower as he came striding up the block. She spotted the dog first, of course; Darcy and her unerring instinct for dogs.

“Bunny! Frank, my darling,” she stepped close and reached up to kiss him, arms sliding around his waist. He winced slightly as she brushed over the cut on his back. Red had stitched it shut - he’d stitched two uglier ones on the other man - but it still hurt like hell. Darcy’s lips thinned as she caught his wince.

“We’ll take a look at that when I get home.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He was so whipped, but damned if he didn’t love it. He was Darcy’s slave just as much as the dog was, and that fool animal was currently lying on his back in the middle of the sidewalk whimpering happily as Darcy rubbed his tummy.

They headed back hand-in-hand, picked up the food on the way. Ate a companionable meal. Afterwards they were sitting quietly together, Buddy snoozing on Darcy’s feet, when she fixed him with a direct look.

“All right. Get that shirt off. Let’s see your back.”

“It’s fine, Darce. Only two stitches.”

“Now.”

Frank was up and unbuttoning his shirt before his brain caught up. God damn it, when she used that tone… with a sigh he turned his back to her.

“Those are terrible stitches, who put them in, a blind man?”

He had to chuckle. “Funnily enough, yeah.”

“This is not a joking matter, that’s going to scar!” Darcy scowled. “I’m taking them out and I’m going to put fresh ones in.”

Frank knew better than to argue with her. With a groan he settled down in the chair again, leaning forward with his elbows on the table as she went to wash her hands and fetch her stitching kit. It was by no means the first time she’d patched him up - she’d gone and convinced Banner to give her lessons after the first time - and she set five tiny, neat, straight stitches after cutting Red’s two rough ones out.

“There,” she said at last, carefully taping on a dressing. “Now be careful.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Don’t you sass me, I hear that tone in your voice.” Darcy peeled her gloves off and tossed them in the garbage, put her hands on her hips and glared at Frank.

He grinned at her, standing up and shifting about experimentally. No real pain, no tugging; as usual she’d done an amazing job. He saw the way her eyes ran over his bare chest then, the tip of her tongue darting out to moisten her lips.

“No point in giving me orders if I don’t sass you back, eh? And besides,” he stalked towards her, “sometimes you like it when I’m disobedient.”

“Frank, no,” she saw the wicked glint in his eyes. “Frank, your stitches!”

“They’ll be fine.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” she yelled at him crossly, already knowing she was fighting a losing battle. There was no arguing with Frank once he’d set himself on a course, and the course he was currently on was almost certainly going to have him between her legs in a matter of minutes. She couldn’t help a shudder of desire at the thought.