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chvoswxtch · 2 years

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like a wrecking ball

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: frank finished a job earlier than anticipated, and he's finally coming home to you.

warnings: cursing, frank being a bit of a softie (my heart needed this warning lmao), explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this fic was inspired by the song like a wrecking ball by eric church. it came on one of my spotify mixes a while back and it instantly made me think of frankie and put this idea in my head. idk what it is about frankie, like he makes me such a whore but also so soft so...here's a combo of both. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

I, I been gone, I been gone too long

Singin' my songs on the road

Another town, one more show

And I'm comin' home

Frank hated being away from you. He hated the thought of you at home by yourself, sleeping alone every night, if you did sleep at all when your anxiety wasn’t gnawing at your stomach about his safety. He hated that he was constantly running off to protect other people when the only person he really gave a shit about protecting was you. Frank knew you weren’t defenseless by any means. He saw to that personally. You knew where every gun and knife was stashed, and he had taught you how to use them until he was satisfied with your skill. He taught you self defense, how and where to hit, quickest exit points in the house. There were plenty of cameras and silent alarms around the perimeter of the house so he could check on you from wherever he was, but it did nothing to dull his paranoia, and it would have him driving seventeen hours straight just to make it back home to you.

Frank hated sleeping without you. He detested the motel beds and their scratchy sheets, worn springs of the mattress digging into his tired body, the scent of stale cigarettes and residual dust. There was a time when he hardly noticed shit like that. A room was a room, and a bed was a bed. Hell, it was better than sleeping in the van. But that was before you. Now he missed the feeling of you curled up into his side or using his chest as a pillow, your hands grabbing onto him like a lifeline every night, your silk skin and green apple scented shampoo keeping his nightmares at bay. He hated that he was missing out on all the little moments he looked forward to, and wasn’t there to hear you talk about your day, or watch you dance around the kitchen as you cooked. God, he missed your cooking. He missed you. He made a promise to call once a day, but hearing your voice only on the other end of the phone wasn’t nearly enough to soothe the ache and guilt he felt in his chest.

Frank hated the look on your face everytime he had to leave. You never complained, or said anything about how you truly felt. You always told him you understood, that this is who he was, and you accepted it. The only thing you ever asked of him was to make it home to you. But he could see the truth in your eyes as you tried to hide the glimmer of longing building up on your waterline. He could feel the desperation as you clung to him a little tighter, kissed him that much deeper, and let your fingers linger in his palm until he finally reluctantly let go. But he also hated the look on your face when he did come home sometimes after particularly bad runs. Sometimes he would come home a day or two late, just to give his wounds some borrowed time to heal before he had to face you. He would intentionally come home when it was dark, keep the lights off, and take you from behind slowly so you couldn’t see him, but could feel him and that he was home. He couldn’t hide from you forever, he knew that. But he just needed a couple of hours before he had to see that broken look on your face at the aftermath of his choices.

But this time hadn’t been so bad. Frank had finished the job quicker than anticipated, and relatively uninjured, and he was coming home to you.

Don't give a damn what these keys are for

I'm gonna knock down that front door and,

I'm gonna find out what that house is made of

It's been too many nights since it's felt us make love

It had been Frank’s personal mission to christen every square inch of the house when you moved in. Not that you two hadn’t broken in certain rooms and spots before, but that was different. That was before you had turned Frank’s house into a real home, one that you now shared together. That was before when he would come home to silence that echoed against the barren walls and climb into bed only to be greeted by cold sheets. That was before when he hadn’t even bothered to buy a dining table because he only ever cooked for one. That was before when the house was just brick and sheetrock, because there wasn’t anything inside that made it more.

Until you.

Frank still remembers how goddamn nervous he was to ask you to move in. You hadn’t even been dating a year, and he was worried you’d freak out that he was moving too fast. He loved the nights you spent with him, always coaxing you for another. Always just one more night.

Just stay one more night, darlin’. Promise I’ll wake ya up in time to change before work.

You always stayed. You even started bringing an overnight bag with more than one extra change of clothes, just in case. Frank wouldn’t have minded spending just as many nights at your place, but you always told him that you enjoyed his house more given that it was far more spacious than your little one bedroom apartment, and you were “absolutely in love with his kitchen”.

That right? Feel free to use it anytime then, sweetheart. I ain’t gonna stop ya.

You had been complaining about running out of space in your apartment, specifically space for your bookshelves. You had two large ones already that were overflowing, and you were ranting to Frank about how your tiny apartment was causing you to be financially responsible in limiting how many more books you could buy. Frank listened with an amused grin on his lips. He thought you looked adorable with the little pout on your lips, brows furrowed and nose crinkled up, clearly distraught by your predicament. He loved how much you loved to read. He loved it even more when he was able to persuade you to read to him.

There was an empty room he wasn’t using that he decided right then would be yours. He went out and got some ash gray wood to match the color of your current bookshelves, dropped by your place with coffee and a guise of “I was in the neighborhood”, but really was trying to get a gauge on just how much work he had cut out for him. You had always told him you wanted your own library room when you finally moved into a house of your own, and Frank was determined to give you one. He spent an entire weekend building out a few large bookshelves, testing the shelves strength with different weights, making sure every edge was sanded and smoothed to perfection, and secured them all into the walls so they couldn’t topple over. He even got you a little step stool that he tucked beside one of the bookcases so that you could reach the top shelves if he wasn’t around.

Frank had invited you over for dinner the following Monday night, casually announcing he had something he wanted to show you afterwards. His heart pounded in his chest the entire walk down the hallway and his palms had begun to sweat as he twisted the knob and opened the door. The nerves he felt in that moment were immensely stronger than any he had ever felt before, almost as debilitating as the ones he felt from the ambush in Kandahar. He was perplexed by the puzzled look on your face when he flicked on the light, stepping aside to allow you to move past him. He watched you carefully as you traced your fingertips along one of the shelves before turning to face him with a playful smile.

I don’t think you have enough books for these, Frank.

No, but you do.

You…got these for me?

I built ‘em for you, sweetheart. Said you were runnin’ out of space and all that. Thought you could use some more.

Your lips had been on his before he could get another word out, not that he minded. Frank had guided you back against one of the bookshelves, his hands tightly gripped onto your waist as you poured all of your gratitude into his mouth. His hands had slipped down slowly to grab the backs of your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly to pin you between his hips and the bookshelf. You broke the kiss momentarily to giggle incredulously against his full lips.

I can’t believe you built me a library at your house. How am I ever supposed to wanna go home now?

Well, that’s just the thing darlin’. I was thinkin’ this could be your home now.

That was the first room in the house that Frank made love to you in after you agreed to move in with him, but that certainly wasn’t the only one that night.

I wanna rock some sheetrock

Knock some pictures off the wall

Love you baby like a wrecking ball

Frank was antsy the entire drive home, continuously glancing down at his phone as if that would make the distance shorter and the time pass faster. He missed you. He needed you. It had barely been a week since he’d had you, but something about this time felt different. His desire was a lot stronger than he could remember it being any other time he had been gone. Frank needed to touch you like he needed to breathe. He needed to feel your supple skin in his rough palms, your needy hands tugging at his grown out hair, his hips nestled between your own. He needed to feel that you were his and you were safe.

The only time Frank ever truly felt at ease was when he was with you. He wasn’t quite as hypervigilant, unless you were out in public and then he couldn’t help himself. There wasn’t an omnipresent weight bearing down on his shoulders. That daunting thing inside him wasn’t clawing him apart begging to be let out. He felt lighter, definitely happier. He felt things he never thought he would feel again. Things he didn’t think he deserved to feel again. At first it terrified him. He didn’t want to get used to that tenderness, only to have it ripped away again. He didn’t know if he would be able to survive that a second time. But the harder he tried to fight it, the stronger his craving grew, and eventually he gave in and chased it like a nomad following the North Star.

Frank loved being around you. But when he was inside of you? God, that felt like heaven. Probably the closest he thought a man like him would ever get, but fuck if he didn’t care as long as he got to visit every single day. Sometimes several times a day when he just couldn’t get enough. He was insatiable when it came to you. Burying himself to the hilt in the warmth of your walls was where he always found pure peace. Everything else melted away when his hips collided with yours, and he heard your breathy repetition of his name sweetly echoing in his ears. Frank could stay inside you for hours. Sometimes he would keep going, even when you were both far past your point of exhaustion and overstimulation, even when it almost hurt.

Just one more, sweetheart. Just need one more, that’s it.

Frank needed you, and the stronger his desire grew, the harder his foot pressed against the gas.

You, look at you

Send me one more shot

Sittin’ on the bathroom sink

Damn you really turn me on

Paintin’ your toenails pink

Frank had gone from having not a single photo on his phone to his entire camera roll being full of pictures of you, and plenty of the two of you together. He had gotten in a habit of sneaking photos of you when you weren’t looking, or when you were doing simple things around the house or while the two of you were out. He loved to look at those when he was gone. It made him feel like you were there with him sometimes, especially the ones he had caught of you sleeping when he had woken up before you. That was the last thing he looked at every night when he was away before he fell asleep.

His favorite was one of you in Central Park in autumn. He had let you drag him along for a little romantic picnic at one of your favorite spots. Of course you didn't actually have to drag him. Frank would’ve followed you fucking anywhere you wanted to go without hesitation or complaint. The leaves had shifted from varying shades of emerald into deep hues of vermillion and gold. A breeze had blown through that had a few of them cascading down like timid raindrops around your head, and you had glanced up to watch them fall with the biggest smile on your face. Frank couldn’t pull his phone out fast enough to capture that moment. Every time he looked down at his phone, he saw that picture, and it made him smile just as big.

Frank loved that you sent him pictures while he was away. You always included him in whatever you were doing, even if he wasn’t physically present. Sometimes you sent him quick little videos when you wanted to ramble about something that was too much to type. He didn’t mind. It meant he got to see you, and hear your voice at the same time. Sometimes you’d send him a picture wearing two different earrings to ask him what looked better, or would paint two different shades of pink on your toes and ask which he preferred, as if he could tell the fucking difference. He’d always give you the same response.

Don’t matter, you make everythin’ look beautiful.

He could practically hear you rolling your eyes through the phone at that, and it always made him laugh. But he loved it. He loved that you asked for his opinion on things, even if you didn’t need it. He loved that you thought about him just as much while he was away as he thought about you.

He really loved when you sent him pictures of you in bed, wearing nothing but one of his shirts. Frank absolutely loved when you wore his clothes, and how they smelled like you after. There wouldn’t even hardly be any skin showing in the picture, except your bare thighs, and it was always accompanied by an endearing sleepy smile on your lips, but God did it get him hard as a fucking rock. It always sent his mind into a frenzy with memories of the two of you in bed together. If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel the soft flesh of your hip in his hand. He could almost smell the dainty floral and citrus of your perfume running underneath his nose. He could almost hear the melodic whimpers and honeyed pleas that seemed to reverberate in his ears. Pictures like that had him eagerly pursuing your memory with his hand down his sweats, sending up silent prayers of your name to anyone that was listening that he could come home soon.

Easy baby before you say,

But if I can make it just one more day

That old house is gonna be shakin’

I hope those bricks and boards can take it

But I won’t be surprised if the whole damn place just falls

I’m gonna rock you baby like a wrecking ball

Two hours. Just two more hours, and Frank would be home. He could make it. He already had eight hours that had felt like an eternity behind him. Two hours was nothing. The closer he got home to you, the more all of his exhaustion from the past few days was quickly evolving into veritable energy. Frank was absolutely wide awake by the one hour mark. He hadn’t told you he was coming home early. He wanted to surprise you. He thought briefly about stopping to get you flowers or something, but that meant stopping and putting even more time between the two of you. He’d get flowers later.

All Frank could think about was you. Fuck, had he missed you. He was struggling to decide on whether he would have the patience to take his time with you, spend all night making up for every second that he was away. He liked to go slow with you. Frank liked to learn your body and memorize it constantly, like reading his favorite book all over again. He loved the way your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head when he set a languid pace, ensuring you felt everything. He loved to strum you delicately with his fingers, producing beautiful melodies from your lips as he played his favorite tune between your thighs over and over again. Frank especially loved when you embraced his head against your core as his tongue delved and sought out his favorite treasure. Frank wasn’t a religious man, but he felt reborn every single time your gratification coated his face, reveling in the way your taste washed away and absolved his past sins.

As much as he enjoyed leisurely extending your pleasure, sometimes he couldn’t wait. There were times Frank couldn’t even be bothered to fully rid either of you of your clothing, he just needed enough out of the way to get to where he needed to be. There was at least one occasion where you two hadn’t even made it past the front door. Frank had shamelessly fucked you right there, for any of your neighbors to see or hear, keys long forgotten in the lock, because he couldn’t wait. He hadn’t even bothered to keep quiet. Had anyone been on the other side of that door, they probably would’ve thought S.W.A.T. was in the process of fucking breaking it down. But who was gonna come out and say something to him? Who the fuck would dare get between Frank Castle and his girl?

Never had he been so fucking happy that he had installed a camera on your front door. The amount of times he had replayed that video while he was away was egregious, but Frank didn’t fucking care. Due to that incident, and a few others where you two barely made it past the entryway, all the photos you had hung on those walls were purposefully moved a foot inward. Curtis had inquired once about the weird gap of space between the front door and the half of the hallway that was decorated, but Frank’s mouth had curled upwards in a salacious grin before you had a chance to come up with an excuse.

Better you don’t ask, Curt.

Frank let out a breath of relief he didn’t realize he was holding when he pulled into the driveway and saw your car there. He could see a faint glow through the curtains in the living room, letting him know you were awake. He didn’t bother grabbing his bag out of the back or even locking his truck. All that mattered right now was you.

And that old house is gonna be shakin’

Rafter and rockin’ foundation quaking

Crash out through the front door

Back you up against a wall

You were waiting at the other end of the entryway as soon as Frank stepped through the front door. He nearly groaned at the sight of you in one of his flannels that just reached the middle of your thighs. There was surprise written evidently all over your face. He had told you he wouldn’t be home for another three days. But that initial shock seemed to wear off the second you took in the hungry look in his eyes, your lips curving upwards into a playful smirk.

“Hey, big guy.”

“Hey, sweetheart.”

In an instant, Frank had crossed the distance to you in two short strides, grabbing your face in his large hands to steal your lips in a kiss that had you collapsing into his chest. He wasted no time backing you up against the wall, his tongue swiping the bittersweet remnants of white wine off your lips as your frantic fingers pushed his jacket off his broad shoulders. Frank redirected your hands away from toying with the collar of his henley and guided them down to his belt, silently signaling how much he needed you right now. You moaned softly into the kiss at just how much he was straining against the rough denim.

As you pulled the worn leather from the buckle and worked on undoing his jeans, Frank’s fingers found the waistband of your panties underneath the flannel and shoved them carelessly down your legs. He gave you just a split second to step out of them before lifting you up into his arms and pressing you back roughly into the drywall, his other hand quickly working on freeing his coveted cock. He could feel your heat seeping through the fabric of his shirt on his lower abdomen. He should’ve felt guilty about not prepping you more first, but he was too far gone in clouded lust to hold back, especially with the way you were nibbling on his earlobe and begging diligently.

“Please, Frankie.”

That was all he needed. A guttural groan tore through him when he finally sank the blunt head of his cock into your welcoming heat, continuing to drive further into you until he had nothing left to give. His fingertips dug bruisingly into your hips as he held you there, his eyes falling shut at the way your greedy pussy squeezed around him longingly. Your legs wrapped even tighter around his lower back as he pushed you further against the wall with his hips. Frank couldn’t form a single coherent thought at the moment other than how fucking good you felt. How much he had missed this. How much he had missed you.

The high pitched cry that sounded from your throat snapped him back into focus. He would get lost in you later, but right now he wanted to watch you fall apart. Frank dipped his head to press his forehead against yours, holding you as close to his body as he possibly could and securing his arm around your waist so that you were being knocked back into his embrace with every powerful thrust of his hips. He placed his other hand at the base of your throat, wrapping his fingers around it delicately like ivy and squeezing ever so gently to get you to look at him.

“There’s my pretty girl. Missed you so much, sweetheart. So fuckin’ much. Drove all goddamn day for this. Couldn’t wait to come home and be right here.”

Frank loved looking into your eyes when he fucked you. He could see it all. Every little thing you were feeling, all of the words his hips were knocking out of you, all of the pleas his lips stole from yours. He loved watching the way your pupils dilated when he called you his girl, praised you, or when you were about to come. He tried so hard to get you to keep them open when you finally did, swearing he could see the entire fucking universe in them.

Love you baby,

Take it right there baby

Rock you baby,

Like a wrecking ball

“Missed you so much, Frank…God…please…”

“That’s it baby, atta girl. Take it like I know you can. Promise we’ll take our time later, yeah? Just need to feel you right now. Been too long, sweetheart. Too goddamn long.”

Frank could barely hear the sound of the picture frames rattling against the wall as your conjoined bodies collided into it over and over and over again. All he could hear was your breathless pants and pleas of his name ringing in his ears. You grabbed onto the back of his neck, chasing his lips as he quickened his pace. Exchanges of i love you’s were murmured against each other's mouth, trying to fit all of your shared longing and greed into the growing bubble of pleasure that was about to erupt between the two of you.

This right here, this was home. You were it. Happiness. Heaven. Freedom. Peace. Home. Those were all the things Frank found within you. All of the things he would fight anyone, even the Devil or God himself, to hold onto. No one could help the sorry son of a bitch that ever tried to take away what was his again. Nothing would ever take you away from him. Nothing.

That thought echoing in his mind had Frank pounding you so hard into the wall with such a ferocity it shocked even him. But he couldn’t stop himself, not with you digging your nails into his shoulder blade and pleading for more.

“I love you. You hear me? I fuckin’ love you. Ain’t nothin’ ever gonna keep me from comin’ home to you, sweetheart. Not a goddamn thing.”

Frank didn’t need you to speak. He just needed you to listen. He needed you to know that you were home. He needed you to know that you were his. He needed you to know that he would protect you until he took his last breath, and even then he’d find a way to keep going.

Frank immediately lost it when you finally let go, his hips convulsing against yours as your walls wrung every single drop of elation out of his spent cock. He let his head fall against your shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment to catch his breath as he hugged you as tightly as he could to his chest. He had no idea how the fuck he was still standing, but he pushed that thought to the back of his mind as he focused on the sound and feeling of your heart thudding just below his ear.

Your nails gingerly scratched at his scalp and he hummed, wrapped up in content like a blanket with your heart as a pillow. He could’ve passed out right there. Definitely fucking better than a motel bed.

“Frankie?”

He grunted in response, which earned a canorous fit of giggles to vibrate against the side of his face. It only made him snuggle further into your chest, gently smacking his palm against your ass when you wiggled in his relentless grasp.

“Stop movin’.”

“Baby, we can’t stay like this.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because if you pass out, you’re gonna crush me.”

“You callin’ me heavy?”

“Frank, you’re a giant compared to me. Yes, you’re heavy. I’d rather you crush me in a sexy way, not in a permanent way. Now, I believe you promised me a few more rounds, Castle.”

Frank’s ears perked up at that, retracting his head from the crook of your neck just enough that he could see your face. He cocked his head to the side slightly, a sly smirk twisting at the edge of his mouth as he brought his palm back to your ass to give it a rough squeeze.

“Mm, I did, didn’t I? Better get on that then, yeah?”

“I don’t know, you think you can handle it? Looking awfully tired there, big guy.”

Frank’s eyes darkened when you quirked your brow in a challenge, a knowing smirk of your own spreading over your lips. The teasing tone laced in your words didn’t escape him. He knew exactly what you were doing, and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t working. You always knew what buttons to press to get what you wanted, and Frank was always more than willing to comply. Hell, most of the time you didn’t even have to try to convince him. All you had to do was give him that smile, and he was a goner.

But if you were gonna play that game, so was he.

“Oh sweetheart, I know you don’t think I drove all day just to fuck you once and call it a night.”

#frank castle #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle smut #the punisher #the punisher fic #the punisher smut #curtis hoyle

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katyluzzok · 4 months

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#videos hot #mujeres #hot nude #chicas hot #chicas #curtis hoyle #sexy chick

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darlingshane · 1 year

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THE PUNISHER | BARBIE STYLE

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rviralsworld · 22 days

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Follow for more💗💗💗

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fashionmingleboutique1 · 9 months

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transgenderbillyrusso · 1 year

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#i hate colouring this scene #the punisher #billy russo #ben barnes #curtis hoyle #jason r moore #marveledit #thepunisheredit #marvelgifs #billy russo x curtis hoyle

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lucy-sky · 2 years

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The Punisher S01E09: Front Toward Enemy | requested by @slavic-empress

#the punisher #marveledit #jon bernthal #jason r moore #frank castle #curtis hoyle #moviegifs #cinemapix #filmtvdaily #filmtvcentral #dailyflicks #*#**#requests #darlingshane #userkk #userkimb #stephibee

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quincybf · 1 year

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"the judas goat" the punisher / "something beautiful" better call saul

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marvelgaynesstothemax · 8 months

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Frank: Ow, fuck… I cut my finger.

Matt: Here, let me kiss it better.

Frank, blushing furiously: Oh- Uh- Okay…

[Later]

Frank: Curt, I need you to punch me in the mouth.

Curtis, already winding up: Done.

#curtis is a real one #frank castle #matt murdock #punisher #daredevil #curtis hoyle #fratt #frankmatt #incorrect quotes #text post #gayshipsareyayships #lmao

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chvoswxtch · 1 year

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lavender haze (dark mode)

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: frank castle never imagined he would ever fall in love again, and he certainly never imagined love could feel like this.

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, mentions of sexual content (minors pls dni), mentions of pregnancy, a lil angst

word count: 8.6k

a/n: your eyes do not deceive you, this is a repost! the first time I posted this, there was some kind of glitch that changed the color of the text which made it impossible to read on dark mode. I was unable to fix it, and i've been waiting for that glitch to be fixed. it hasn't happened with any of my, or anyone else's posts lately, so it seemed like the right time to repost this for anyone that wasn't able to read it the first time because of the dark mode issue. I truly appreciate everyone being so patient, and even reaching out to me about reposting because you wanted to be able to read it. that makes my lil heart so happy, you have no idea. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

tags: @hellskitchens-whore

Staring at the ceiling with you

Oh, you don’t ever say too much

And you don’t really read into

My melancholia

Frank didn’t know how you did it. You always seemed to just…know. You knew when he felt like talking. You knew when he didn’t. You knew when he wanted to listen to you talk about your day. You knew when he needed comfortable silence. You could tell when he wanted your touch, and when he needed to be left alone. You posed all of your questions meticulously with caution, always stopping an inch before the invisible boundary he had created. You didn’t take offense to his brooding moods that emerged from a detour into the past. You didn’t cover your ears at the silence that echoed when he got lost in the disconsolate caverns in his mind. You didn’t flinch at the scars you could touch, or the ones you could hear in his intermittent vulnerability. You seemed to understand him in a way no one ever had before. Sometimes Frank felt like you understood him more than he even did.

He gazed down at you as your eyes stayed fixated up at the ceiling. Today had been a bad day. He couldn’t remember if he had even asked if you were home before his fist was colliding with your front door, letting out a breath of relief he hadn't even noticed he was holding until your face came into focus. Did he even say hello to you? Did he utter anything at all? He couldn’t remember. Somehow the two of you had ended up on the floor by your record player, your head resting comfortably in his lap, as Elton John’s Rocket Man flowed through the speakers. He could hear you humming faintly as your eyes drifted closed for a moment, your palm delicately stretched out towards him in case he wanted to hold it, or simply letting him know you were there if he didn’t.

Music was how the two of you communicated sometimes. It was how you tried to relate to him when your own words weren’t enough. When he was quiet like this, your choices in music were more purposeful, to either let him know you understood some of what he felt, or to try to soothe the ache with what you knew he enjoyed. Sometimes Frank feared you really could read his mind, especially in moments like these when you seemed to know exactly what he needed without a single word. Even before he knew what he needed. He hated the thought of you being able to see into the carnage that occupied his skull. Of course he knew that was fucking ridiculous. He didn’t even know if you knew what you could do, and if you were aware, you never showed it.

Frank hadn’t had someone to run to in a long time. Someone he didn’t feel like a burden to in doing so. It had taken him longer than he’d like to admit to be comfortably exposed with you. Slowly but surely, he tore his own guard down brick by brick as you waited patiently. It wasn’t just that he didn’t want to be a liability for you, he was also nervous about just how much of himself he could reveal without running you off. Frank had managed to find you during yet another really low point in his life; a glimmer of light through all the darkness. He still remembers the day he met you in that bookstore. He often replays that memory in his head like an old comforting home movie.

You had complimented his choice in literature as he held a worn copy of The Great Gatsby in his hands, disclosing to him that it was one of your favorites. Frank was instantly captivated by you and your sweet smile. For a good ten minutes you stood there with him, discussing books you had both read, and recommending a few of your other favorites to him that you thought he would like based on his previous reads. It made him feel so…human. There was a warmth about you that made him shiver.

To this day, Frank still doesn’t know where he found the courage to ask you to coffee, and he still has absolutely no idea why you said yes. All he knew was that he loved you, and that seemed to be enough.

I’ve been under scrutiny

You handle it beautifully

All this shit is new to me

When news broke that the Punisher was back in New York, the media had a fucking field day. Frank knew he was at fault. He had been a little too reckless and not bothered to check for cameras at the warehouse. Madani was pissed. She was giving him an earful over the phone. She wasn’t on speaker, but Frank knew you could hear every word she was saying from your spot on the couch. Every news channel seemed to be debating on the alternating justifications on why Frank was a necessary anti-hero, or why he was a psychopathic murderer. After about three minutes, you simply just shut off the tv.

Frank wasn’t even hardly paying attention to Madani’s words. Hell he didn’t even fucking care what they were saying about him on the news. If he valued public opinion, he wouldn’t be who he was. His eyes kept glancing over at you. There was a neutral look on your face, but Frank wasn’t sure if that was for your sake or his. He desperately wanted to know what was going on in your head. He didn’t know what to say. You knew who Frank was when you met, and you had never given any indication that who he really was bothered you, but that did nothing to dull the anxiety throbbing in his veins.

This was all completely unchartered territory for him, and he was absolutely lost. He had never talked to Maria about the horrors he endured and committed during his tours. Frank had vowed to keep that part of his life separate from his family when he came home. But Maria had the luxury of his anonymity. You didn’t. You didn’t have the privilege of a soldier just following orders. The evidence of his brutality was plastered everywhere for you to see. It was no longer something unspoken the two of you pretended wasn’t lurking in the shadows. It was glaring you right in the face. Frank didn’t know how you would react, and if he was being honest with himself, he was fucking scared. He didn’t want to lose the one good thing he had found that made life worth living again. He didn’t want to lose you.

Frank cut Madani’s rampage off with the pad of his thumb, placed his phone on silent, and set it face down on the counter. He would deal with that later. This was more important.

“You were never s’posed to see any of this.”

Your head perked up when his gruff voice cut through the silence. There was a tender expression in your eyes, and your lips had pulled into a sympathetic smile.

“I know. Flaunting isn’t really your style. I’m sure this will all blow over in a couple days. Dinah will calm down eventually. It’s all going to be okay, Frank.”

The conviction in your voice had a lump forming in Frank’s throat. Despite everything, here you were trying to comfort him. Frank didn’t know what to do other than settle on his knees in front of you on the floor, head nestled against your stomach as his arms wrapped tightly around your body in silent begging.

“I’m so sorry ‘bout all this, sweetheart. I didn’t…I never wanted any of this shit to come back to you.”

“Frank, you have never lied to me about who you are, and I have never pretended to not know.”

“Doesn’t mean I ever wanted you to see this side of me. I could handle you knowin’. That’s one thing. But seein’…what I do…I don’t want you to change your mind…”

Frank’s voice trailed off. He couldn’t finish that sentence. He closed his eyes as he felt your fingers carding through his hair.

“Hey, look at me.”

Frank couldn’t. He was afraid of what he would see. The disgust at his actions, the regret in your choices, the recant of your affection. It wasn’t someone else’s bullets ripping away his happiness this time. It was his own. There would be no one else to blame for this. No one else’s blood would satiate this desperate vengeance. He would have to live with his own wrath and guilt. After a moment of silence, you gently cupped his strong jaw and lifted his chin to meet your warm gaze. Frank reluctantly met your eyes, but he didn’t find the repulsion he expected. All he found was acceptance.

“I love you, Frank Castle. I know exactly who you are. I don’t need anyone else to tell me. You are the man that makes me feel safe. You are the man who makes me feel special and loved. You are the man that risks his life over and over again to protect people. You are the man that brings me daisies when you know I’ve had a bad day. You are the man that twirls me around the kitchen when we’re cooking dinner together. I know you, and I love you. Every side of you. There is nothing you, or anyone else, could ever do or say that would change the way I see you, or the way I feel about you. I promise.”

Not even Frank’s own self inflicted loathing and contempt could combat your verity. He could hear the unrelenting sincerity dripping from your words as your lips brushed past his ear. He could see the genuine devotion reflected in your eyes when he held your gaze from underneath him. He could feel the profound adoration in the gentleness of your touch, holding his face in your hands as his hips found refuge between yours. He could taste the ardent desire on your lips over and over as he made love to you right there. He could even smell the sentiment of a silent promise made from the intermingling of both of your climaxes lingering in the aftermath of his display of gratitude.

Frank didn’t know what the future held for a man like him that had ventured through hell and back several times over and cheated death more times than he could count. But he had a second chance at life, and he wasn’t going to waste it. Not when he had found you. He already felt like he won the goddamn jackpot when you agreed to that first date, and he wasn’t sure how much luck he had left to really make this work. But as long as you wanted him around, he’d be damned if he wouldn’t find a way.

I feel a lavender haze creeping up on me

So real, I’m damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal, the 1950s shit they want for me

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

When was the last time he had felt this happy? This…light? Frank couldn’t remember. It had to have been during the early years of being married to Maria, before he started getting deeper into classified ops that held more and more pieces of him hostage with every completed mission. Before he started to feel anxious about going home because he wasn’t sure who he was there. Before he started preferring being covered in blood dodging bullets with his unit than being around his own kids.

All of that felt like another lifetime ago. Frank supposed it was, in a way. It was all a little hazy in the back of his mind sometimes. Whether that was from the tequila you had talked him into or the way your hips were swaying to the song filling the small space of the dive bar you two had become regulars at, he wasn’t sure. Could’ve been a bit of both. But as he watched you move from across the room, a playful grin on your lips as you beckoned him over with your index finger, everything else seemed to fade away.

God, you could dance. Frank was mesmerized the first time he saw the way you could move your hips. He had thoroughly enjoyed watching you from his seat at the bar, but that was nothing compared to watching you from below that night. Frank was drawn to you like a magnet, his feet moving before his brain even caught up. He grinned when you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a dizzying kiss. Frank wrapped his arms around your waist as tightly as he could, sneaking one of his large hands up the back of your shirt to feel the warmth of the soft skin on your lower back. His hands found their way to your hips of their own accord, like they always did.

“Hey, big guy.”

“Hi darlin’.”

“You weren’t gonna come dance with me?”

“Just enjoyin’ the view, sweetheart. You know I like to watch.”

Frank reveled in the way your cheeks burned a deeper shade of red, doe eyes widening and lips parting slightly in surprise. You quickly recovered, a knowing smirk taking over your mouth as you pressed your chest against his.

“Well if you wanted a private show, all you had to do was ask.”

“That right?”

Frank dipped his head to brush his nose along the underside of your jaw, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin just below your ear before nipping at it just hard enough to earn a sharp gasp from you. He let one of his large hands trail down your lower back, giving your ass a playful smack before grabbing a handful of it and squeezing gently.

“Alright then, pretty girl. Let’s get outta here.”

There weren’t always nights like this where the two of you got to go out freely and just be a regular couple. But on the occasions where you did get a little normalcy, Frank wanted it to last forever. He didn’t even want to go to sleep those nights. He just wanted to stay in the moment with you, and milk it for all it was worth. The rare moments when he wasn’t The Punisher. He wasn’t the Marine. He wasn’t a widower that had fatherhood ripped away from him. He wasn’t weighed down by the weight of the world and another lifetime of trauma and loss.

He was just Frank, and he was just yours.

All they keep asking me

Is if I’m gonna be your bride

The only kind of girl they see

Is a one night or a wife

Curt and David had both been giving Frank hell about you. They continuously kept asking him when he was gonna “lock that shit down”. The first time he had brought you around them, they were both absolutely stunned that Frank had landed someone like you. Curt had jokingly offered to give you a head exam, and David had repeatedly asked how much Frank was paying you to pretend to be his girlfriend.

“No seriously, I lived with this asshole for several months. There’s no fucking way he landed someone like you, unless he’s paying you. Granted…he did try to steal my wife once, but that was under the guise of alcohol and desperation on her part. Is that it Frank? You just keep her drunk so she doesn’t fully see your face or recognize how much of a dick you are?”

“Oh for fucks sake Lieberman, for the last goddamn time I didn’t-sweetheart you know what, just ignore him. We all do anyway.”

“What I think D is tryin’ to say is that we think it’s great you’re so involved in charity. I mean, you’re doin’ a real public service here. We appreciate your sacrifice, truly. I ain’t seen this man smile this much in…years.”

“This is why I can’t fuckin’ take y’all anywhere, Jesus Christ.”

Despite the teasing, you had fit in effortlessly with them. Anyone passing by the table would’ve thought you had all been friends for years. There was no awkwardness or hesitation to acclimate, you had even dished back your own playful banter throughout the evening earning you eyebrows raised in surprise and prideful smirks from Frank.

“Y’all keep fuckin’ with my girl, and I ain’t gonna hold her back. She ain’t always as nice as she looks. Hell, she hits harder than both of y’all combined. Trust me.”

Curt and David both adored you, not only because of how good you were for Frank, but also because they really genuinely liked you. As the months added up to a year, they both kept pressuring Frank to take the next step in your relationship. Once they had figured out you weren’t just a fling, and that Frank had truly fallen in love with you, neither one of them could wrap their head around why he wouldn’t want to make it official. Curt knew Frank would always love Maria, and that there would never be any replacing her. But he also knew that there would never be another you. You were Frank’s second shot. There wouldn’t be a third. There wasn’t room in his heart for a third.

Frank wasn’t an idiot. He knew you were way out of his league. Not only were you absolutely way too good for him, he also thought you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He noticed all the eyes on you everytime the two of you went somewhere. He didn’t miss the utter confusion written evidently on guy’s faces when you reached for his hand to intertwine your fingers together or pressed a kiss to his lips with a huge grin. He resisted the urge to stalk over and snap something out of place when their disrespectful stares lasted a little too long for his liking. But you never noticed any of it. Because every time Frank brought his gaze back to you, your eyes were already on him. They were always on him.

It wasn’t that Frank didn’t see a future with you. When he thought about what the rest of his life looked like, you were always there. He loved you entirely. He just wasn’t sure if he could be a husband again. Frank had proposed to Maria three months into their relationship because she was pregnant, and it was the right decision. Not to say that they would’ve never gotten married had she not been pregnant, but everything had happened so fast. Frank became a husband and a father almost overnight. He didn’t regret a second of his marriage with Maria, but he didn’t want to repeat it. He wanted to take his time with you. Frank wanted to savor every moment with you, just as you were. No pressure, no expectations, just you and him.

You were the first person Frank had ever met that didn’t ask him to be someone else. You didn’t ask him to hide the parts of himself that were scary. You didn’t try to tame the aspects of his life that were tumultuous. You didn’t try to redirect his daunting choices. You didn’t try to pull him in a million different directions and expect him to be someone he wasn’t. You let him be exactly who he was, and loved him all the same. Frank didn’t need a piece of paper to know how much you loved him, or that you were his. You proved that to him every single day.

I find it dizzying

They’re bringing up my history

But you aren’t even listening

Madani was on a rampage. Frank hadn’t tied things up as neatly as she had wanted, and arguably had left a bit of a mess, and she was furious. Enough to show up at his front door with Mahoney ten minutes shy of five in the morning with more rage than a person should ever have that early. Since you and Frank had recently moved in together, they were also at your front door, and Frank knew that once you were awake there was no going back to sleep for you. Pushing his own annoyance to the side, Frank apologized profusely, but you simply shrugged it off and went to the kitchen to make coffee for the four of you.

She wanted Frank to go back in and finish the job, this time wrapping everything up neatly with a bow. No loose ends. No mess. But to Frank, it wasn’t worth the risk. The previous case had taken months of prep work and careful planning. The target was high profile, with even more high profile friends, and was someone the U.S. government was not technically supposed to be going after. Madani had given Frank very strict instructions, all of which he did his best to follow, but there were unforeseen complications he had to improvise with.

“It ain’t worth the risk, Madani. They know someone’s gunnin’ for ‘em now. It ain’t gonna be as easy to catch ‘em off guard again. The security this guy has now could put the fuckin’ secret service to shame.”

“I can’t just let him go, Castle. If this guy goes underground, that’s it. We won’t have another chance. This has to happen now.”

“I get that Dinah, alright I do. But there ain’t enough time to put somethin’ together that’s gonna work. We don’t even have-”

“Oh bullshit! That’s complete bullshit Frank, and you know it. If this guy had kidnapped Karen Page, you’d be there in a heartbeat and he’d be dead by now. You have no problem running straight into the fire when your own selfish interests are at risk but not when I fucking need you to.”

Frank’s jaw tensed at the mention of Karen and his eyes immediately diverted to you. You were finally making your own cup of coffee after bringing three to the table for them. If you had reacted to her name at all, Frank didn’t see it. He had mentioned Karen briefly to you once a few months ago, and how she had helped him find David. You knew she was present for his trial and had read the articles she had written about him. You knew there was a history there. Frank hadn’t really detailed exactly what that history was or meant. He had simply said she was someone he cared about and left it at that. You never asked about it again.

Mahoney seemed to follow Frank’s gaze over towards where you were leaning against the kitchen counter. His eyes lingered on Frank for a moment before he faced Madani and cleared his throat.

“I think the point you’re missing Madani is he has no trouble doing that when it comes to certain people. If that person isn’t in danger, he’s not gonna roll up guns blazing to a suicide mission.”

“Since when the hell are you on his side, Mahoney? You need this done as badly as I do.”

“I do. But we need to be smart about this, and you need to consider all the stakes that are involved, and who those consequences fall on.”

Brett motioned his head subtly in your direction, and for the first time since shoving her way in completely blinded by anger, Dinah noticed your presence. Her wrath seemed to dissipate a little as she glanced between you and Frank, detecting the somewhat pleading look in his eyes. Halting her pacing, she finally took a seat at the dining table and let out a deep exhale of understanding.

“Alright. How do we do this Frank? What’s the smartest way, what do you need from me?”

“Patience, for starters.”

“Now Frank, you know better than to taunt an angry woman that’s got a full clip without a bulletproof vest.”

Walking by to place a kiss to Frank’s head, you shot Dinah a wink and lightly squeezed Brett’s shoulder on your way back into the bedroom. Dinah looked over at Frank in amusement, a smirk completely taking over her mouth as she brought the steaming mug to her lips.

“For the record, I like her better than you.”

“Glad we’re all in agreement then. Cause I like her a hell of a lot more than you two put together.”

After Madani and Mahoney had left, Frank made his way into your shared bedroom and leaned against the doorway to the bathroom as he watched you get ready for work.

“Shoulda warned you movin’ in with me meant house calls from Madani at ungodly hours.”

“Nothing I wasn’t prepared for.”

The smile you sent Frank’s reflection in the mirror nearly made him weak in the goddamn knees.

“Can I take ya to breakfast?”

“I’d love that. I’m almost done.”

Frank watched you silently for a moment, mesmerized by all your little movements. He liked to watch you when you weren’t paying attention, when you thought no one was paying attention to you. He loved the way your nose crinkled adorably when you got embarrassed or confused, the cute little pout that formed on your lips when something wasn’t right or working, how you were always humming something when you were lost in thought. Frank pulled you into his embrace the second you turned around, brushing his thumb lightly over your cheekbone.

“I really am sorry ‘bout this mornin’. Not just, ya’know, Madani flyin’ in like a bat outta hell. What she said ‘bout Karen-”

“I know, Frank. It’s okay. She’s right, though. If Karen was involved, you wouldn’t hesitate.”

“I wouldn’t hesitate for you either.”

A shy smile took over your lips as you leaned into Frank’s embrace, gently wrapping your small hand around his wrist.

“I know that, Frank. I know you’d do it for me too. And Curtis, and David, and even Dinah and Brett. And before you even start your protest, don’t bother. Because you’ve already done it for everyone on the list. Some of them, several times.”

“Not you, though. And I hope to God it never comes to that. But if it ever does-”

“You’re wrong.”

Frank cocked his head slightly to the side, peering down at you with brows knit in confusion.

“What?”

“You’re wrong. You have done it for me.”

“When?”

“Everyday. You save me, every single day, and you have since that day in the bookstore.”

Frank stared down at you incredulously, shaking his head slowly to himself. He wrapped his arms a little tighter around you and leaned in to press his forehead against yours.

“You keep talkin’ like that, I’m gonna take you to bed instead of breakfast.”

“Why not both?”

I feel a lavender haze creeping up on me

So real, I’m damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal, the 1950s shit they want for me

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

When Frank had asked you what you wanted for your birthday, your answer was simple. Him. Frank argued that you had to let him get you a birthday present after you had gone all out for him, so you compromised. Time. That’s all you asked for. Just you and him, no distractions, no responsibilities, no work, no interruptions. Frank hadn’t hardly been home the past two months, and you had been putting in a few late nights of your own even when he was. Every night he was away from you made Frank wonder how the hell he ever managed to go eighteen months without Maria.

Two weeks before your birthday, Frank told you to request a few days off and pack a bag. He wouldn’t tell you why, just said to pack comfortably for cold weather. You didn’t even bother trying to get a hint out of him. The man had been trained for torture, he wasn’t going to give into your incessant childish begging when he was so committed to his surprise. He was still tight lipped as you both loaded his truck down and took off on a three hour drive upstate. When he turned off onto a winding dirt road and caught your puzzled expression, he couldn’t help but chuckle. It wasn’t until the cozy cabin finally came into view that a gasp left your mouth. Your head snapped towards him with wide eyes as he put the truck in park.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“You got me a cabin?”

Frank threw his head back and howled with laughter, reaching over to grab onto your thigh and squeeze gently as an ear splitting grin covered his mouth.

“Well hell, if I had known you wanted one, I woulda got you one. But since someone didn’t wanna give me any ideas, I had to get creative. This is all ours for the next few days. Ain’t no one around for miles. And the best part? No cell service.”

Even though there were tears in your eyes from how thoughtful Frank’s gift to you was, it didn’t stop you from climbing onto his lap and clawing at his belt with eager hands. Frank didn’t even pretend to put up a fight. It was your birthday after all. He’d give you whatever you wanted. And if you wanted to ride him in the front seat of his truck, well then it felt like his birthday too. You and Frank nearly christened every spot in that cabin in less than 24 hours. Frank fucked you in the large plush bed in the bedroom, the hot tub, on the kitchen counter, in front of the fireplace, on the dining table, in the shower, the couch, and even against a tree when you went for a walk together in the woods.

For three days it was absolute uninterrupted bliss, and Frank had never been happier. You both took turns cooking meals, even though Frank was adamant about doing most of the cooking since it was your birthday trip. He dazzled you with his baking skills when he handcrafted a red velvet birthday cake with cream cheese frosting; your favorite. You both found a beautiful trail that had a breathtaking view of a lake and had a picnic there. Frank slow danced with you around the living room with only the glow of the fire and moon to illuminate the space. It felt like a dream neither of you wanted to wake up from.

After spending nearly an hour with his head buried between your thighs and another with his hips pressed firmly to yours, Frank held you delicately against his chest. His thick fingers ran loosely throughout your hair, lightly scratching at your scalp how he knew you liked. He watched as your fingertips carefully traced scars and indentations along his chest and abdomen. Sometimes when you laid like this, you asked him the story behind each one. But tonight, you were unusually quiet. Frank lightly nudged his nose against your temple.

“What’s goin’ on up there?”

“I don’t wanna go home.”

Your voice was small and fragile, like a shattered piece of glass that hadn’t yet fallen to pieces. Frank had almost forgotten that tonight was your last night here. He had been trying to make you forget too.

“Me neither, sweetheart. We can always come back.”

You hummed quietly in response, tracing invisible words above Frank’s heart that he couldn’t quite decipher. He placed his index finger under your jaw and lightly grasped your chin to tilt your head back.

“That it?”

Frank could see the hesitation in the depths of your eyes. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, something you always did when you were contemplating your words carefully. For a second, Frank was worried he might have done something wrong, or not done something he should have.

“We can go somewhere nice for you birthday when we get back if you wanted-”

“No, no Frank that’s not it. This…this has been the most perfect and special birthday I’ve ever had. It’s the first time I’ve even enjoyed celebrating my birthday since I was a kid. I guess I’m just…feeling selfish.”

“Selfish? You’re allowed to be selfish on your birthday, darlin’. That’s kinda the whole point, ain’t it?”

“My birthday was three days ago.”

“So?”

The tiniest of smiles tugged at the corner of your mouth as you shook your head slowly. Frank watched as your gaze dropped back down to where your fingertips were still writing invisible words.

“C’mon baby, talk to me. Feelin’ selfish how?”

“I just…don’t wanna go home. I like this. I like having you all to myself. I like being here with you, doing all these things together, feeling like I’m your…just…it’s nice.”

“My what?”

Frank dipped his head slightly to meet your gaze, but he couldn’t catch it. Whatever you wanted to say, you were guarding it.

“Your…main priority.”

Priority wasn’t the word you wanted to use. Frank knew it as soon as the words left your mouth. You couldn’t lie to save your life. He knew there was something else you wanted to say, but he couldn’t figure out what. Neither of you kept things from the other, and he couldn’t understand why you were doing that right now. He gently grabbed your neck and held your face with his fingers, searching your eyes for any kind of clue. They were shimmering with a translucent layer of sadness, but he couldn’t tell what from.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

“I know. I love you, Frank.”

“You are my main priority, baby. I want you to know that. I know I been gone a lot lately, and I’m sorry ‘bout that, but you do come first. You need me, you call me. I don’t care where I am, what time it is, or how small you may think it is. You need me, you call me, and I’m there. No questions asked. You got that?”

Nodding slowly, you closed your eyes for a moment as a tear slipped past your lashes. Frank brought his thumb up to catch it before it could descend down your cheek, holding you even tighter against his chest.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be. S’alright, honey.”

“I just miss you when you’re gone, Frank. So much. I worry about you all the time. I get scared that everytime I hear your voice on the phone might be the last…or what I would do if you didn’t come home-”

“Hey, look at me. I will always come home to you. I promise. You will always have me. Always. I miss you the second I step out that door, and all I can think about when I’m away is comin’ home to you. Nothin’ could ever keep me away from my favorite girl.”

Frank pressed his lips to your forehead in a soft kiss, lingering there for a moment as he held you tightly in his arms. He made another promise that night that once every couple of months you two would get away for a while. No distractions, no responsibilities, no interruptions. He made love to you two more times so that the only thing you could feel was him. He kept himself inside you as he wrapped you up in his body completely, whispering sweet nothings into your ear until you fell asleep. When the morning came, he woke you up with his head nestled between your thighs, chasing any lingering feelings of sadness away with his tongue until there was nothing left but pure gratification.

Talk your talk and go viral

I just need this love spiral

Get it off your chest

Get it off my desk

Things had been different after you and Frank got back from your trip. They were so subtle, he wasn’t entirely convinced he wasn’t going crazy and imagining things that weren’t there. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was, but something was different. Something was off. He could feel it.

There was a dissonance between the two of you. Frank noticed you had become a little distant, withdrawing into yourself at times. Of course he had no room to speak, he had been guilty of doing that on several occasions. He figured you might have been going through something and needed your space until you were ready to talk about it. So, he did what you always did with him. He was patient, provided reassurance of his presence both verbally and with gestures, and gave you the space you needed.

But then a month went by, and you still hadn’t said anything. He tried to be as patient as you had been with him, but it was never his virtue. It was driving him absolutely mad trying to put together this puzzle when all the pieces were locked away in your mind. Anyone else observing you wouldn’t be able to tell you were acting differently, not even the ones that knew you. But no one knew you quite like Frank. He noticed everything about you. He saw the way your smiles didn’t quite reach your eyes like they normally did. He heard the detachment in your voice when he asked you about your day. He hadn’t felt the warmth of your touch in a month. Every time he managed to make it home at a decent hour, you weren’t there. You had been spending more nights at work, making up excuses about a big project with a strict deadline. But Frank knew better. He knew you were avoiding him. He just couldn’t figure out why.

He replayed the entire trip in his head over and over again, searching for anything out of place that would explain your behavior. The only thing Frank could think of was your last night at the cabin when you had gotten emotional about leaving. Frank analyzed every piece of that conversation. He thought he had done everything right that night by telling you everything that you needed to hear to put your mind at ease, and making a promise to dedicate more time together. But if more time together was what you wanted, why were you pulling away?

Frank couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t be as patient as you. Something was wrong, and the uncertainty was driving him fucking crazy. He managed to easily find a way into your building, a concern he would discuss with you at a later time, and was barreling towards your office. The space was dark and quiet, seemingly empty, but he could see the light on through your window. Frank shut and locked the door as soon as he stepped through, barricading the door with his large frame. There was nowhere for you to run. The only way out was through him, and he wasn’t letting you leave until you talked to him.

“Frank? What are you-”

“What’s goin’ on?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what. You’ve been off since we got home. Now look…I’ve tried, alright? I’ve tried to give you space until you were ready to talk about whatever the hell this is, and ya’know be patient until you were ready to come to me…but you’re not comin’ to me. You’re hidin’ from me. Why?”

“I’m not hiding from you, Frank.”

“Yes you are. That’s why you’re here. That’s why you’ve been spendin’ almost every night here instead of at home with me. That’s why you keep tryin’ to lie when we both know you’re fuckin’ terrible at it. Ya’know I thought…I thought we didn’t do that. I thought we agreed ya’know, no secrets. No lies. So…what is it?”

The silence in the room was deafening and nearly drowned out the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. For the first time in a very long time, Frank was fucking terrified. He had no idea what was going on with you. He had no idea what he had done wrong. He didn’t like the way your face twisted up in remorse and confusion. He hated that you wouldn’t look at him. He would’ve rather faced down the barrel of a loaded gun than whatever the fuck was about to happen right now. Frank took a step forward, his eyes darting back and forth fervently as he searched your face for something, anything. His voice was gentle and laced with pure vulnerability as he pleaded with you.

“Please just…please just talk to me. Please, sweetheart. Just…tell me what’s goin’ on. I can’t…I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what the problem is. Please tell me.”

Frank watched closely as you rubbed your palms slowly down your face, looking anywhere but at him as you glanced around your office. You closed your eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, and Frank’s fingers twitched at his sides in anxious anticipation.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Frank.”

Your words caught him completely off guard, and he blinked a few times as confusion settled between his dark brows.

“What?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you finally lifted your head to meet Frank’s unrelenting gaze. You gave a light shrug of your shoulders as a tiny melancholic smile covered your lips.

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Frank I…I know you love me. I know that, okay. But…is that it?”

Frank cocked his head to the side slightly as he stared down at you. He could see that you were waiting for an answer, but he couldn’t figure out what the hell the question was.

“I’m not followin’, sweetheart. Is what it?”

“Is that all there is? I mean am I…am I it? Because you are Frank. You are it for me. I know what I want from you, but I have no idea if you want it too, or if you even want it at all. I don’t know what you want.”

“Sweetheart, what I want is you. Is that not clear?”

“Yeah but for how long, Frank?”

Frank stared at you silently, feeling completely lost within your riddle. He was trying his hardest to follow along, but a piece of the puzzle was still missing. You were still holding something back. He wasn’t sure if it was the same piece you withheld that last night at the cabin, but it was preventing him from being able to see the whole picture.

“What do you want?”

“Frank-”

“Say it. Whatever it is you been too scared to say, just say it. I’m not gonna understand until you tell me, so just get it off your chest.”

Hesitation flashed across your face, and he could practically feel the uneasiness radiating off of you. Frank watched as you caught your bottom lip between your teeth and took a few steps forward to gently pry it away with his thumb. He reached out to take one of your small hands in his, brushing his thumb lightly over the back of your knuckles before giving it a delicate reassuring squeeze.

“Talk to me.”

“I want a future, Frank. I want a future with you. I want everything with you.”

“You don’t think I want that?”

“I don’t know, Frank. You’ve never mentioned it, we’ve never talked about it. I don’t know what you really want. I know that I love you, and I want to be with you. Always. You’re it for me, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want a life together. I want…a family. Our family. I just…I don’t know if you want any of those things.”

It was your turn to be nervous as Frank stared down at you silently while processing your words. Once everything clicked in his brain, he felt like a fucking idiot. He had told everyone that he wanted a future with you. Everyone except you, apparently. He hadn’t told you that whenever he thought about his future, you were at the center of it. He hadn’t told you that you were it for him too. He hadn’t explained why he never mentioned marriage or starting a family to you. Hell, he hadn’t even stopped to consider if those were things you even wanted. Not once in the past year and a half had he bothered to ask.

You had tried to subtly give him a hint that last night at the cabin. Frank had a sudden epiphany as your words echoed in his head. I like being here with you, doing all these things together, feeling like I’m your…main priority. He knew you hadn’t meant to say priority, but it wasn’t until now that he realized what you were actually trying to say.

Your wife. Your partner. Your future.

“A family?”

“Yes, Frank. A family.”

The sincerity in your voice absolved any remaining apprehensions Frank had about making it all official. He could do this again. He could do it with you. He knew you didn’t need a piece of paper either to know how much he loved you, but if it made you feel more secure in your future together, he would do it. He would do anything for you. Frank shoved everything off of your desk quickly before lifting you by your hips to set you up on top of it. His hands were in the middle of pushing your dress up your thighs when you placed your palms against his chest and laughed nervously.

“Frank, what are you doing?”

“You want a baby sweetheart? I’ll give you one. Right now.”

“Frank-”

“You just tell me what kind of ring you want. You got it.”

“Frank I…I don’t…I didn’t mean right now. We don’t have to figure this all out right now. I just…wanted to know what you wanted. If…if you wanted a future with me too. I mean…I want you to want this too. I don’t want you to do it just because it’s what I want. If you-”

Frank cupped your face in his large hands and leaned in to kiss your lips softly. He sighed in content against your mouth, nuzzling his nose against your own. He pressed his forehead to yours as he started deeply down into your eyes.

“I love you. I love wakin’ up next to you. I love that you’re the last thing I see when I close my eyes at night. I wanna spend the rest of my life lovin’ you. Ya’know after Maria…I wasn’t sure I’d ever want to do any of that again. I wasn’t sure if I could. But if that’s what you want, then I want it too. We’ll figure it out together, yeah?”

“Really?”

“When you’re ready, I’m ready. I promise.”

I feel a lavender haze creeping up on me

So real, I’m damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal, the 1950s shit they want for me

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

You and Frank were not a traditional couple. You never had been. There was nothing traditional or normal about your relationship, but neither one of you seemed to really care. Everything between the two of you had always happened exactly as it was supposed to. You did everything on your own terms, at your own pace, and only followed your own expectations that you two had established together. Now that you were both on the same page about your future together, you simply decided to let the rest of the pieces come together when it was their time.

Over the course of the next year, you and Frank only fell harder and more deeply in love. True to his word, Frank made sure that you two had some little getaway planned every three months. The walls of your home were filled with little snippets of your favorite memories from your trips together. There were even a few that Curt and David along with the rest of the Lieberman family had joined you on. You started your own holiday traditions of spending them with yours and Frank’s chosen family, and David’s kids were absolutely thrilled when you got Frank a puppy for Christmas last year. Frank had even let them have the honor of naming him which is how you ended up with an adorable big baby of a pit bull named Zeo, a combination of their names.

Life was so full for the two of you, it never felt like anything was missing. There were only more things you wanted to add to it. Frank eventually found himself at complete peace with the idea of becoming a husband and father again. There was no pressure of expectations or rush to catch up with anyone else. He had simply healed enough to make that choice of his own accord. Being your husband was what Frank genuinely wanted for himself. He wanted to be a complete unit with you; a team. For your three year anniversary, Frank took you back to that same cabin and proposed to you in front of the golden glow of the fireplace. A month later, you had a small intimate little ceremony at that beautiful spot by the lake you had found during your first exploration.

There was nothing traditional about it, but it was perfect. David got ordained and performed the ceremony, asking you three times if you were absolutely sure you wanted to be legally bound to Frank forever. Curt and Sarah stood by yours and Frank’s sides. Zach and Leo were the ring bearer and flower girl. You and Frank had even gotten Zeo a little bowtie for his collar. The “reception” took place at yours and Frank’s favorite diner in town. Instead of wedding cake, you two shoved apple pie in each other's faces. The celebrations continued at the bar across the street where you toasted with cheap wine and shots of tequila. Your first dance was to Can’t Take My Eyes Off You by Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons because it was the best choice on the jukebox. That night you and Frank made love more times than you could count.

A few months later when you both decided you were ready to start a family, you left it all up to chance. You weren’t actively trying, but you also weren’t using protection. Whenever it was meant to happen, it would. Seven months later you found out you were pregnant. The grin on Frank’s face when you told him the news was composed of pure happiness. Neither of you wanted to know what you were having until the baby was born, but you picked out names that you both absolutely loved either way. Frank was present for every big and little moment of your pregnancy. All the appointments, hearing the heartbeat for the first time, feeling the first little movements and kicks. All those little things and moments he had missed both times Maria was pregnant he was now getting to experience fully with you. He was there for every second of your labor, letting you grip his hand as tightly as you needed, getting you anything you wanted, showering you in praise and encouragement when it was time to push.

Frank sobbed proudly when he held his baby girl in his arms for the first time. He was in complete awe of the beautiful creature the two of you had created together in pure love. He still questioned relentlessly what he had done so right to deserve this life; this second chance. There were still so many moments he doubted whether he was deserving of happiness. But here he was, holding his happiness in his arms. His second chance. His future. Frank wanted to stay in this moment forever.

#frank castle #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x you #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle smut #the punisher fic #the punisher smut #curtis hoyle #david lieberman #sarah lieberman #karen page #dinah madani #brett mahoney

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castlesprincess · 1 month

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David calling Frank to say maybe violence is the answer when he finds out Lewis has Curtis

#izy.oc #the punisher #curtis hoyle #david lieberman #nmcu #marvel #mcu

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darlingshane · 2 years

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In Other Words, Until I Die

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Rating: T // Warnings: Angst, Language. // Word Count: 4,843

Summary – @gabymiller asked – can I request a frank castle fic where he’s married with a baby girl and they see on the news that he is dead but with the help of Curtis his wife finds out he’s Pete and they have a angsty fluffy reunion ❤️

A/N: This came out more angsty than I expected but I hope you like it anyway. There’s still some fluff and many bittersweet moments. // A/N 2: Lisa is Frank and Reader’s baby, with all my respect to Maria and the Castle family. A/N 3: The title comes from the song Baby, I'm yours, by Barbara Lewis. It's mentioned a couple times if you wanna listen beforehand.

- You can also read at AO3.

Frank came back for good.

That's what he believed. That's what he needed. To be home and become the husband and the father he always wanted to be, but the universe cared little for what Frank Castle wanted. It had other plans for him and wasn't going to let him settle that easily just cause he had a change of heart.

No, it wouldn't be that simple. Not after what happened during his last deployment. Not after Cerberus.

His bliss at home – with you and getting reacquainted with Lisa, who had just turned one, – was quickly cut short only three weeks after settling back in your lives.

What pulled him out of that delusion was when one day, while you were at work; he took Lisa to the park and on his way back he found an envelope in the mail slot with no stamp or address on it. Just his name and CD that contained a very damning video of his last mission in Kandahar.

A couple of days later, he disappeared before you woke up.

He took that piece of evidence as a threat and in order to figure out who was behind that, he had to be as far away from you as possible. It was the only way to keep you safe cause he knew that that mission was different, and while he hoped it had ended with that bullet, it didn't. It followed him back home, and he couldn't have that. He wasn't going to be the reason to put you and the baby in danger.

He wrote you a letter, though, that felt like a joke where he vaguely explained that he had to go away to figure things out and that he didn't know if he would ever come back. He said that you and Lisa were better off without him, that he'd never be what you wanted him to be.

You couldn't understand how he could have sunk that low to bury your relationship in such a crude manner like it was nothing. And despite being mad as hell, deep down you were certain that those words weren't true. If he was trying to make you angry, he knew how to. But he couldn't possibly believe that you were stupid enough to buy that.

You've been together long enough to read between the lines, and if he thought you were going to give up that easily, he was wrong.

Something was off, and you needed to know the truth, and the best way to do that was to visit some of his closest friends.

None of them knew shit, or so they said. Except for Curtis, if the others had lied, Curt didn't. He couldn't. He was an honest man and told you straight up that Frank had to leave to keep both of you safe, that there were people after him who weren't going to hesitate about hurting you to get to him. He also reassured that Frank didn't love anything more in the world than you and Lisa, that he was completely torn apart the last time he saw him.

But that wasn't very reassuring at all. It was bullshit. You loved Frank, but it didn't make sense to you what he could've done so wrong that prompted an escape number instead of going to the police or coming up with something else.

A lot happened in the next few weeks since he left. To say it turned your life upside down was an understatement.

First, you were stunned by the bombarding news and headlines pointing your husband as the perpetrator of a series of murders, including his former CO, Ray Schoonover.

Quickly after that, you were brought in for questioning twice, once by the NYPD, and a second one by Homeland Security, claiming that he was part of two bombings along with a man named Lewis Wilson.

They got warrants and all kinds of bullshit to search the house. To their disbelief, they didn't find anything that could point them in Frank's direction.

It was then that you understood the coldness of his words in that letter he wrote. He wanted everyone to believe that he had abandoned you, so they'd leave you alone. He anticipated that happening, and they still went at you either way, but not as viciously as they'd have if they believed you knew what he was up to.

It was heartbreaking seeing your husband dissected by the so-called experts and people who once knew him, trying to put the pieces together of this person they claimed was a psychopath.

You wanted to believe Frank was innocent, but the evidence kept piling up against him.

At the end of the day, you missed him dearly and there wasn't a side or another, it was only his and yours and Lisa’s. And you were certain that behind all the secrecy, there was a good reason for his actions. You wished he had told you. Maybe he thought you were useless to him, or it was as dangerous as he said it was for you to be privy to all that, but being in the dark was just as bad. You'd have done anything for him if he had asked.

It was exhausting, you could barely keep it together. Most nights you didn’t sleep. And if it wasn't for your commitment to Lisa, you definitely would've lost your mind a long time ago. Taking care of her and making sure she was happy and healthy was the only thing that kept you going. She had the most beautiful face and smile, and you marveled at how much her eyes looked like Frank's every time she opened them in the morning, and you could even see it at night before she closed them.

Every evening before bedtime, you'd hold her up in your arms, showing her the picture of daddy in his dress blues sitting on the mantle, cause you wanted her to remember him as the good man you knew. As that same guy you met five years ago who stood in line for ten minutes every day just so he could talk to you for one while he ordered his coffee; until one day he was brave enough to ask you out.

“Don't believe anything you hear, okay? Daddy loves you,” you whispered in her little ear, staring at Frank's portrait, as if she could understand anything that was going on.

“Dada,” that night she stuck out her arm and pressed her tiny finger against his nose over the glass.

“You like dada's nose? It's kinda funny, isn't it?”

She stared at you and repeated dada.

“Don't tell him I say that,” you smiled tiredly and glanced at the still portrait of Frank one more time, holding back tears, blindly hoping he’d come back some day.

In an old building near the river, Frank was watching the whole thing through the cameras he had David install in the house, so he could keep an eye on you. The pace of his heart picked up, capturing his baby girl calling him dada behind a screen, and as much as he wanted to run back home and hold the both of you, it was nearly impossible. You were being watched, not just by him, and there wasn't a safe way for him to contact you without arousing suspicion.

He could see how tired you were and how much you had endured. You were strong, he had no doubt, but he hated seeing you suffering, and if he could go back in time and change the course of his actions, so he could be there with you, he abso-fucking-lutely would.

Once Lisa was asleep, and you turned in for the night, he laid back on the uncomfortable cot. He closed his eyes, as all those beautiful memories he built up with you flashed behind them. From the moment he saw you behind the counter at the café till the last: your first date, your first kiss, a couple of arguments in between, all the times he made love to you, countless times speaking on the phone, your wedding, the day his baby girl was born…

If you had Lisa, he only had his treasured memories wrapped in an old song that started playing in his head that you first danced to on the second time you went out with him. That same song was later the one that played at your wedding. It’s called– Baby, I'm yours.

Frank could hear the melody clearly and still feel the weight and touch of your hands when they linked around his neck on the dance floor when he invited you to dance. He couldn’t do the twist, but he could definitely swing with you to a couple of slower songs like that one.

It was at the fundraiser at a VA center in Brooklyn, where everyone was dressed like it was the 60s. He would have never agreed to go to a themed party like that, no, but it was for a good cause, and it also gave him the opportunity to ask you out on a second date. So, he bought the tickets, found himself a classic, nice suit like Don Draper wore in Mad Men, and traded his tactical boots for oxfords. Admittedly, he didn't consider himself as handsome as Don, but you made him feel that way. He wasn't a cheater either, so, all things considered, he could take pride in that, but he was too humble to recognize his own good qualities and wasn’t going to start any time soon.

For all the times he called himself old-fashioned, that day he looked the part too. He showed up with a bouquet of flowers and tucked his elbow out, so you could link your arm with his as you walked up to his truck. It was adorable how bashfully he looked at you and the way his lips curved up when you kissed him at the end of the night.

He wished for more moments like those. His life couldn't end like this without getting to hold you and Lisa again. Could it?

That unbearable need pushed him to keep going, to settle his score, clear his name, just so he could return to you and make new memories.

But again, his plans were destroyed once more the night on the pier when he found who was working with Schoonover…

All his dreams of getting back to you blew up in that explosion. The puzzle was more complex than he initially thought, so he ultimately had to let you go for good and let the world, including you, believe that Frank Castle had died in that boat.

In his wake, he kept working in the shadows with his partner while watching you helplessly bury a burned body that wasn’t his. He had David hack and falsify all the appropriate DNA and dental records, so nobody would glance at it twice, and it worked.

The world finally left you alone after his death and when they stopped watching– he stopped too because you deserve to grieve and live in peace; and because every time he saw you on the screen it was like being run over by five cars in a row.

He'd still get an update or photo of Lisa from Curtis, who tried to convince him many times to let you know that he was alive, but he wouldn't budge. He still believed you were safer not knowing.

Curt hated lying to you and after the funeral you only saw him a couple of times, briefly. First, you didn't want to face people at all for a while, and second, you stayed focused on Lisa and your job, and that didn't give you much time to do anything else.

Frank grew a beard, got a new identity for the time being, and kept his dead down. He lived like a ghost for ten months, hitting wall after wall of bullshit that kept him from finding out who was the real asshole behind Cerberus. That was the last piece he needed.

Being dead was easy, kind of. He didn't have to worry anymore, cause nobody knew what he was up to. And becoming Pete Castiglione gave him the freedom to come and go as he pleased, even during daylight, he’d just slip a cap on and call it a day.

What kept him up at night was abandoning the two of you. His whole damn word that he missed so much, it physically hurt. You were so close, barely a handful of miles away, that he could just be there in less than an hour if he wanted to. And that was it, he always wanted, alas the fear of putting you in peril was greater.

He’d stare at the picture of the two of you every night. Traced your features with his finger before succumbing to reading instead to keep his mind occupied. He had never read as much as he did during those months.

One day, he was getting a couple of books at this bookstore, cause he had already gone through Curt's and David’s entire bookshelves, and he needed new material.

In there, he was taken aback at finding you with Lisa on your lap over the kid's section. It seemed like some mommy and me kind of class, with mostly moms and a couple of dads, surrounded by babies and toddlers listening to a young girl and boy taking turns reading from a Dr. Seuss book.

Lisa had grown so much since he last saw her, obviously. And he couldn't turn his gaze away, memorizing every detail of his baby girl from her hair held in two buns atop of her head, to her outfit of a flashy purple shirt with a dinosaur, jeans, and sneakers. He was stunned by the way she freely gestured, expressing herself like he hadn’t seen before, laughing at the kids’ funny voices, and being nothing but inquisitive at her surroundings. She wouldn’t just stay seated on your lap and would stand several times up on her short legs, spin around, and go over to the front row with the other kids whenever she pleased.

His eyes welled up, realizing how much he'd missed. She could walk now, and he wasn't there to see that happen. She was about to turn two and wouldn’t be there to witness that either out of his own stupidity.

He tried making himself invisible, peering behind a bookshelf, so he could see you smiling and quietly sharing just a few words with one of the moms on your side.

His heart stopped when he saw Lisa’s little hand waving at him in one of her spins like she had recognized him, but she was just probably playing around. She couldn’t have. Could she? It’d be astonishing if she could.

When he looked at himself in the mirror, he could barely see Frank any more behind all that hair. Maybe it was the eyes that gave him away, or the nose, probably. He figured you kept showing her pictures of him and telling stories no matter how painful it was; and he was right, you did.

His lips turned into a smile, and she smiled back widely, showing all her baby teeth before returning to mommy’s side.

When the class was over, he quickly slipped his ball cap back on and strode away towards the exit because if he didn’t, he might’ve ended up doing something he regretted.

“Bye-bye, dada,” you heard Lisa say to your surprise as you were putting her jacket on.

Your brow turned into a frown, glancing over your shoulder to see if she had seen someone that looked like Frank in the bookstore. That was the only explanation for it, you had never seen her say that other than when you put her to bed that she wished his picture good night.

She was too little to understand what death was, so you saved that conversation for later, all she knew that even if she didn’t see daddy again, he’d always be with her. Maybe that was a little confusing too for an almost two-year-old.

“You wanna see dada?”

She nodded, and it broke your heart a little more, if it was possible, after everything you’ve been through.

You handed invitations to a few moms for Lisa's birthday party that you planned for next week and chatted with them for a bit before heading home.

As you were finally starting to feel more like your old self, those few days left to her second birthday quickly changed that again. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but you could tell someone was watching you, and it started to creep you out that Lisa kept babbling with her little vocabulary that she saw Frank more than once. The first was at the bookstore, you thought it'd end there, but there was another time at the grocery store, and a third time at the park.

It was like his ghost was haunting you. After all this time, only Frank would dare to show up right when you were pulling yourself out of the suffocating pit of sadness.

On the day of Lisa’s birthday, you found a package addressed to you on the porch, but it was a present for her. Since there was no return address you opened it first, just for safety, unsticking carefully one side of the wrapping paper to find a box that had a stuffed green dinosaur inside, a cute card wishing her Happy Birthday, and a book titled ‘One Batch, Two Batch’ with a big bear and a baby bear holding a cookie on the cover. You knew she’d love that, so you put it back together as it came and hid it for later, wondering who could have sent that.

“I feel like I’m going crazy,” you told Curt after the party, fidgeting with Frank’s wedding band that was hanging on a chain around your neck.

He stuck around to catch up and helped you clean up, cause you hadn’t seen him in a few months.

You had put Lisa to sleep already, which wasn’t hard after all the excitement of the day. She enjoyed every single second and went to sleep with that stuffed dino cradled to her chest from the mysterious sender.

“Yeah? What happened?”

“I don’t know, I just… she keeps talking about Frank and I feel like he’s watching over us or something.”

You saw Curt swallow as he towel-dried the dishes.

“I am crazy, am I?” you said when he didn’t give you a reply.

“No, no… I was just thinking. That doesn’t sound crazy at all. You miss him, and so does she because you still tell her about him.”

“You think I should stop?”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I’m just saying it is normal to miss him. He's a great part of your life.”

“Yeah, but I’ve always missed him. This is different. It feels like I'm back to the beginning when he left, and I knew he was out there, but I couldn’t see him, you know?”

Curt simply nodded.

He couldn't keep up with the lie anymore and hated seeing you hurt because of Castle, which he was sure now he had been lurking around for what you’ve just had said. He wished Frank would've listened to him earlier. You needed to know the truth, but it couldn't come from him.

It was a few days later that you left Lisa with the babysitter in the afternoon and drove to St. John's after getting a text from Curtis saying that he needed to talk to you alone, that it was important.

The sky was already dark, since days were shorter then. As you pulled up at the end of the street you saw a few people coming out of the church, some gathering on the pavement to have a smoke and a few words before parting ways.

Curt was waiting for you outside when you got to the doors, a couple of guys were saying goodbye to him as you walked up the stairs.

“I need you to keep an open mind,” he started, treading carefully and motioning in the direction of the staircase that led to a basement.

“Okay.”

You didn’t know what to expect to be honest, but all the secrecy made you a little nervous. You started biting the inside of your cheek and tucked your hands in your jacket’s pockets, following him in silence down the stairs and across a long hallway until he came to a halt before reaching the end.

He glanced at you, tilting his head to the side, pointing to the room where his meetings were held.

“I need you to take a deep breath and go in. There’s someone who wants to talk to you.”

“What? Who?” Your brow narrowed.

“Trust me. You gotta see for yourself.”

There was no breath to take but an exasperated sigh that left your nose before taking a couple of steps forwards. When you crossed that little threshold into this room you found a tall man, all dressed in black, leaning against the big, yellow tiled wall, with his head hanging down.

You looked back, over your shoulder, for a moment and Curt was already gone or out of sight, and for lack of words facing this stranger, you cleared your throat loudly in order to claim his attention.

What came next was probably the last thing that you thought of finding here. You’ve never been hit by a bullet, but at that moment – as the mysterious man slowly lifted his head, you captured Frank's features behind disheveled curls and a bushy beard – it felt just like one went straight through your heart.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, and it sounded like gravel coming out of his mouth that made the skin at the back of your neck rise at the texture of his familiar voice.

The utter shock that took all over your body didn’t let you move or speak up. You wanted to scream, but you could only stare, noticing your face quickly heating up, and it took you a moment to realize you were already crying.

Your heart pounded anxiously in your chest, begging you to take a breath.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, but I’m here,” he spoke again.

It felt like a cheap trick your mind was playing on you because that person in front of you couldn't be Frank Castle. It was absolutely impossible. You buried his body, almost in disgrace, after all the things they said he had done.

You blinked once, and twice more, as he moved closer, slowly presenting himself more and more as the man that once you recognized as your husband.

He was barely standing two feet away when you finally let a shaky breath fall between your lips that was held beneath that huge knot in your throat. And when his mouth opened again to say he was sorry, you used both hands to push him back with all the force you could muster, which wasn't much to be honest.

Frank merely swayed, and you pushed him again, harder, and he let you, and a third one.

“Let it out, sweetheart.”

On the fourth push, you started sobbing uncontrollably, and his arms finally surrounded you, holding you tight against his chest.

“Shh, shh. It's okay.”

“I hate you,” you repeated thickly a few times, falling apart against his hoodie, balling the fabric in your hands.

“I know, I know… I'm sorry.”

You felt his lips pressed on your head and a hand soothing up and down your back. He kept you like that until your heart settled at a normal pace and there weren't more tears to shed, at least for now.

With a little hesitation, you pulled your head back to take a good look at him again, calmer this time.

Locking eyes with him, you brought your hands up and framed his face, rubbing your thumbs on the bags of his eyes that were tear-soaked just as yours.

“You coming home?” Of all the questions you could have asked, that was the only one that mattered to you.

“I can't. It's not safe,” his gaze fell low.

“Will it ever be?”

“I don't know.”

“You're an asshole, you know that?” He nodded in your hands, and you released his face, turning your back on him in frustration, “you lied to me and left me alone to deal with all this. I've mourned you… and for what? You should've stayed dead.”

You didn't mean that, but emotions got the best out of you at that moment.

“Please, Frank. I miss you,” you begged right after, letting out a sob.

“I wish I could, baby. I wanna tell you everything and go home with you and Lisa, but there are still people out there that would hurt you if they knew I was alive.”

“Then, tell me what to do, I'll help you. Whatever you need,” you wiped your face and shifted on your boots again to face him.

“You can't. One of us has to take care of her, and I'm already dead.”

“You let her see you, didn't you?”

“I just…” his lips twitched nervously, “I saw her at the bookstore, and she smiled at me and waved. And I had to see that again. I tried to stay away, but she's just…”

“She's perfect and misses you too,” you finished his sentence, fitting your hands on either side of his neck, capturing the warmth of his skin. “Come by the house later at night, even if it's just for a little bit, just to hold her for a while.”

“I wanna. I really do, but if anyone catches a whiff that I'm around…”

“Nobody will. I promise,” you whispered and brought your fingers up to move his curls away from his forehead, “look at you… you look so different, I could barely recognize you.”

“Dunno know how she did.”

“She’s smart for a two-year-old,” you laughed softly, petting his beard next.

“She got that from you.”

“I don’t know about that,” you sighted as Frank got hold of one of your hands and brought your palm up to his lips.

A tap on the door frame interrupted the moment, and you glanced over your shoulder to see Curt looking apologetic for having to cut your time short.

“Everything good with you two? I need to close up.”

You both nodded.

“Thanks Curt.”

He was a saint. Whatever he did to convince Frank to show up here to see you, it mustn't have been easy.

Frank rode with you and explained everything on the way back home, every single detail without overstating or sugarcoating anything, and you listened quietly without judgment. You always knew he had his reasons, and now they were all out in the open, and you didn’t know how to process all that in that short time frame. You couldn't get behind all of it and wished he had found another way, but you couldn't resent him either.

“Do you still love me after all that?” he asked once you were in the garage.

“Frank,” you stated his name as if it wasn't obvious already that you'd never stop no matter what. “Until the end of time.”

It was a cheesy line from that song you both loved so much.

“Until the stars fall from the sky?”

“Until I die,” you leaned closer and pressed your lips chastely against his, and couldn't help but smile at the prickling of his facial hair.

Then, he cupped your face so tender as his forehead touched yours, staying there a moment in silence, gathering some much-needed courage to face your baby girl.

You went into the house first and when the sitter was gone he came in through the back door.

Lisa was soundly asleep, sucking on her pacifier, in her toddler bed that was converted from her former crib. That same crib Frank built three days before she was born because he got home just in time to see that happen. Then, she spent about three months sleeping in a bassinet next to your bed afterwards anyway. There was no rush, you told him, but he spent a day just putting all that together cause he needed something to do.

You switched the night light on that turned the room into soft blues and yellows, and projected stars and moons across the ceiling as Frank took a seat in the rocking chair.

You carefully picked up Lisa and laid her on her tummy across Frank's chest. She stirred up a little but stayed comfortably curled in daddy's embrace without fussing too much, even tucked her arm underneath his beard.

Your heart swelled watching them both, and you propped yourself on the arm of the chair, tucking your legs over his lap and hugging his neck.

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