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late-to-the-party-81 · 1 year

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Let's delay our misery

AN: This fic was written for @sweeterthanthis Bittersweet Symphony Challenge (and yes I’m down to the wire with it!) I chose the prompt “So take this wine and drink with me, Let's delay our misery”. I’ve subverted the theme of forbidden romance slightly as, while our reader and Frank do something they shouldn’t, it isn’t them having the forbidden romance. But I hope you like it Lau! All aboard the angst train!

Beta’d by @lfnr-blog-blog-blog

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Moodboard/Banner by me

Masterlist

Relationship(s): Reader x Husband!Matt Murdock, Frank Castle x Karen Page, Matt Murdock x Karen Page, Reader x Frank Castle

Word count: 2k

CW: Cheating, Angst, excessive alcohol consumption, vomit, Drunken sex (not explicit), the odd fluffy moment amongst the heartbreak, no happy ending, but maybe a hopeful one. Alternate Universe (no one is a vigilante)

The bile rose in your throat, threatening to escape your mouth and all over the hardwood floor of the bar you were in. Why Frank had invited you to a public place to drop this bombshell, you didn’t know. Maybe he thought it would help you to control your reaction?

“How long, Frank? How long has it been going on?” It took all your control to keep your voice level.

You turned your glassy gaze at your husband’s best friend, who looked back at you with an expression of mixed pain and pity.

“And how long have you known?”

His large, calloused hand reached out to cover your own. You looked down at the table, and marvelled at how it didn’t feel like your hand. You felt disconnected from reality, apart from the all encompassing pain in your chest. Was this your heart breaking?

“I’ve known for two days, sweetheart. Two days in which I’ve agonised about what to do. Whether to tell you or not. Whether to confront one or both of them. Then when Karen told me they were having to stay overnight in Jersey for this latest case, I knew I had to tell you. Then we can work out what to do, together.”

Despite your resolution, you couldn’t stop the silent tear rolling down your cheek.

“Aaww, fuck. Come ‘ere.” Frank pulled you to him. The soft cotton of his shirt rubbed up against your face, the familiar scent of him, that you’d never really dwelled on before, filling your nose. He was Frank. Your husband Matt’s best friend.

Matt worked at a small law firm, with his friend’s Foggy and Karen. Frank was a PI. and had been pulled into one of their cases. He hit it off with all of them, especially Karen and they’d gotten married within the year. You’d met Matt when he’d pulled your distracted ass back from the edge of the sidewalk, stopping you from getting pancaked by a drug-driver. The pair of you had gotten married 9 months after Frank and Karen. It was always the four of you. Group holidays, summer cookouts, theatre trips that made the boys groan. The four Musketeers.

But it was all gone. Blown up and destroyed. Because Karen and Matt were having an affair. Frank had invited you out to the bar tonight, not an uncommon occurrence when both your spouses were out of town on work.

Ha!

On “work”.

Was there actually work to be done, or was the whole weekend just an excuse for them to have some time together. You could feel the bile rising again.

“Nope. Don’t go there, sweets.” He rubbed his hand up and down your arm. “Come on, you wanna get drunk? You and I are never miserable when we’re drunk together.”

You let a sound that was part chuckle and part sniff, from your safe place in Frank’s embrace. “Yeah, we’re always the last ones standing. Think we can still go til dawn?”

He eased you away so he could brush his knuckle against the underside of your chin. “I’m game if you are! Pick your poison.”

You gave him a watery smile and swiped at your eyes with your sweater covered arm. “Oh it’s on, Castle. Shots. First to barf pays for the cab home.”

So you drank. And danced. And drank. And played pool. You lost the contest, you always did. There was no way you could out-drink Frank, but every time you swore that this time you’d manage it. But after your inelegant dash to the washroom and the support of the random drunk women that are always present, you rinsed your mouth, (vaguely) fixed your make-up and headed back out to continue. Frank smiled his charming, wonky smile at you and placed another shot in your hand. You smiled back and clinked your glass against his.

Frank helped you out of the cab, and you fisted his jacket for support, singing all the while.

“SAVE TONIGHT! WE’LL FIGHT THE BREAK OF DAWN! SOMETHING SOMETHING! I WANT TO WATCH SOME PORN!”

Frank chuckled in your ear as he fished your keys out of your purse.

“I’d forgotten how flirty and horny you get when you’re drunk, sweets.” He opened the door on his third try and somehow steered you through it, bouncing himself off the doorframe twice.

You grinned, closed one eye for focus, and with your index finger, pressed his nose.

“Boop! You’re such a good man Frank. Unlike that lousy Matt. Stupid Matt.” A frown made its way across your features as you dropped down on your couch. “I loved Matt. But he doesn’t love me.”

“Nope, nope, baby girl. Come on. Cause if you get sad, I’m gonna get sad, and ain’t no one want to see that.” He half collapsed down next to you, and pressed a sloppy kiss to your forehead.

“Aaaawww, you kissed me, Frankie!” You giggled and started to sing again. “Me ‘n’ Frankie, sitting in a tree. F U C K I N G.”

His massive hand was suddenly covering your mouth, trying to halt your saucy rhyme. “Wow, your mood is swinging both ways. But d’ya gotta be so vulgar, sweets?”

You giggled behind your makeshift gag and then licked his palm. He let out an “Eew!” and drew his hand away, scrubbing it down his jeans. You turned to face him and ended up half on top of him.

“I’ve always been like this, and you know it. Why you gotta be so warm?” You rubbed your face against his t-shirt like a cat. He laughed and you felt the rumble in his chest.

“Cos I’m hot stuff, sweets and you know it.”

You sat up and gave him a shove. “So humble!”

Frank sniffed dramatically, and gave you a poke back in the shoulder. “‘S not my fault you don’t appreciate my masculine allure.”

You snorted. “Married, but not dead. I can still window shop…hey!”

He pulled you back into a cuddle.

“So you thought about it then, sweets? Thought about me?” A part of your drink-addled brain was trying to wave red flags at you. This was not a conversation you ought to be having when the pair of you were drunk and feeling betrayed. You shooed the thought away.

Frank was silent for a moment, just absentmindedly stroking up and down your back, and then he spoke again, his voice quiet this time. “Thought ‘bout you too. But we’re the good ones, ain’t we, sweets. We’re the ones who look but don’t touch. Cos we respect our vows.”

You could feel the change in atmosphere. It was as though you were both on the cusp of something. Both of you knew what it was, but it was going to come down to who voiced it first.

Which turned out to be you. You started to trail a finger over Frank's thigh, the fingernail catching on the thick denim of his jeans.

“What if I don’t want to be good no more, Frankie? What if I wanna touch and be disrespectful? They started it? Why should we feel bad?”

You tipped your head back so you could look at him, his half-closed brown eyes looking at you with warmth and affection.

“I’d say that, right now, in this moment, I feel the same.”

You both moved and your lips connected gently.

It should have felt wrong. He was your friend. Your husband's best friend. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You revelled in the feeling of a different pair of lips on your. Rougher than you were used to. It was… tantalising. The little devil on your shoulder asked you what else would be different about him. You pushed up onto your knees, but refused to break your connection. With your hands resting on his impressive chest - you’d noticed, you were only human - you threw your leg over his lap and sat down, straddling him. Frank’s hands slid up your back instinctually and the kiss deepened.

You were both hurt, both lonely and both drunk. That’s what you told yourself in the morning but, in the here and now, there was just need. A need to stick your middle fingers up at the world in general and Matt and Karen in particular.

Clothes were shed and more kisses were exchanged. Kisses that turned into sighs and moans. Nails clutched, fingers and mouths and tongues explored. There was no finesse, but neither of you were looking for that. There was sweat and saliva, bites and scratches, all slightly out of focus, and then there was nothing.

“Uuurrrggghhh.” God! Whatever you’d drunk last night tasted awful. You stretched out your arms and… why was one feeling carpet and the other a broad thick chest… Noooo!

You sat up with a start, your head reeling and your stomach lurching at the sudden movement. “Oh fuck…” You turned and retched into the plant pot, conscious of Frank’s naked and slumbering body on the floor next to you.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and just stared at him incredulously… and Jesus Christ! You grabbed a pillow and dropped it on his crotch, and then pulled the throw off the back of the sofa and wrapped it around yourself. Bringing your hand up to your mouth you started to chew on your thumb nail.

This was bad. Really bad. Two wrongs didn’t make a right. And Frank was your friend.

Your stomach flipped and if there had been anything left in it, it would have come up.

Frank stirred and sat up, one hand clutching his head and only one eye open. He looked down at the green fabric square in his lap and over at you wrapped in matching wool.

“Mornin’, sweets. Think we got a bit carried away last night, huh?” You just stared back, open-mouthed. A look of concern came over Frank’s face and he extended his hand out towards you. “Woah, you okay?” You shook your head and shuffled away, out of his reach, looking down at the floor. From the corner of your eye you could see his dejected expression and it made you feel awful.

“It was a mistake, Frank. We were drunk and upset, but it shouldn’t have happened.” Your voice was rough and gravelly, and in any other circumstances you’d have laughed. Unfortunately, laughing was at the bottom of your agenda now. You were heart broken and guilty, and to top it off, hungover.

You peered up at him from under your lashes. He gave you a brusque nod of understanding and, holding the pillow to himself, got up and found his clothes. He dressed out of line of your vision, but then returned, and crouched down beside you. You still couldn’t look at him. He placed a warm hand on your shoulder and it took all your willpower not to lean into him. It would be both too easy and the worst mistake.

“I’ll speak to you at some point, sweets. They get back this evening. I’m gonna tell Karen that we know, and that for her and me, it’s over. You let me know your decision, when you know, yeah? But I think… I think I’m gonna pack up and move away. Start somewhere fresh. You take care o’ y’self.”

You bit your lip and nodded, still staring at the carpet by your toes. He sighed, a heavy and sad sound, and then he was standing up again, and walking across your floor to the door. When it thudded closed the finality broke you. Your eyes shut, and for the first time since this nightmare started, you allowed the tears to fall.

Dragging yourself up, you made your way to the bathroom, letting the almost scalding water from the shower wash over your skin. You welcomed the sting as it cascaded over bite marks and scratches. The pain was absolution, but you hated that you felt so guilty, when Matt was the one who’d betrayed you.

As you stepped out of the hot steam, and roughly rubbed yourself dry, it felt as though, at least for the time being, that the water had also washed away the sadness, leaving a burning anger in its wake.

You went back to the lounge, and ignoring the reminders of your night, searched for your phone. You dialled a number and waited for it to connect.

“Hi, Foggy! Yeah, it’s me. No, I don’t actually care when he’s due back. I was wondering if you could recommend me and Frank the name of a good divorce lawyer.”

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#frank castle x f!reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle angst #late writes #frank castle x you #bittersweet symphony

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