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#frank castle fic
chvoswxtch · 4 months
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teach me
pairing: frank castle x fem!reader
summary: you want frank to teach you self defense, but it doesn't quite go the way you expected.
warnings: swearing, some angst, mentions of guns, explicit sexual content (minors dni)
word count: 8.3k
a/n: what better way to end this year and start the new one than with our favorite hot bodyguard. don't ask me how many times I watched that scene with him and amy. it was for science. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!
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“You’re being a dick.”
“Hey, you said you wanted to learn.”
“You’re still being a dick.”
“Yeah yeah, you ain’t gettin’ no sympathy from me, sweetheart. Now c’mon, try again.”
It was a good thing the cabin was isolated in the middle of the woods, because if anyone had been looking in the living room window at that very moment, they would’ve definitely called the police in horror. Frank had a gun in his right hand that was trained on you, and while he wore a neutral expression on his face, your brows were furrowed in pure annoyance and there was a faint scowl on your lips.
Letting out a huff of irritation, you kept your eyes focused on the gun in Frank’s hand, getting back into somewhat of a fighting stance again. Clenching your hands open and closed a few times, your teeth sank down into your bottom lip before you suddenly rushed forward in an endeavor to take the gun out of his hand. 
But just like he had done the past seven times you tried this, Frank easily managed to block your attempt. He grabbed your wrist in his free hand and spun you around swiftly, pulling you back firmly against his chest while a deep chuckle sounded right next to your ear.
“That was real cute.”
Letting go of you, Frank took a step back and lightly pressed at the back of your knee with the heel of his boot, sending you down to your knees below him. He decided to take it a step further and used the toe of his boot to gently shove at your ass, causing your hands to fly out to catch yourself, rendering you on all fours in front of him. Turning to narrow your eyes at him over your shoulder, the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth let you know that was very intentional.
“You know, if you wanted me on my knees, all you had to do was ask.”
“That right?”
Grumbling a string of curses under your breath, you pushed yourself back up onto your feet and turned around to shoot a death glare in Frank’s direction. His plush lips instantly parted into a crooked grin while he looked at you, cocking his head to the side slightly while his eyes twinkled in amusement.
“Aw, what’s wrong baby, hm?”
“I already told you, you’re being a dick. You’re supposed to be teaching me-”
“Then why don’t you quit actin’ like you know everythin’ and start askin’ questions, yeah?”
“How the hell am I supposed to know what questions to ask? I asked you to teach me. Teach me means tell me what to do.”
“And when have you ever done what I told ya to?”
As you opened your mouth to protest, Frank arched one of his thick brows and shot you a pointed look, and your rebuttal quickly died on your tongue. You did have a history of ignoring his instructions completely and doing whatever you wanted anyway. With that in mind, you let out a deep exhale through your nose and crossed your arms over your chest.
“Okay, that’s…fair. But this is completely out of my area of expertise. I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never even held a gun until four days ago. And for the record, when it comes to something serious, I do listen to you. This is serious, and I’m listening.”
Originally when you asked Frank to teach you self defense with a gun, he was completely against it. He made the argument that with him around, you wouldn’t have to worry about that, to which you reminded him of the incident where two people tried to kill you in your own home where you had nothing to protect yourself with and no knowledge of how to in the first place. 
The two of you went back and forth about it for at least an hour. He made the case that it was a one time incident that would never happen again, and argued that nothing was ever going to happen to you in the first place anyway because he showed up to take care of it. You argued back that Frank wouldn’t be by your side twenty-four seven anymore and would eventually be assigned to someone else, possibly taking him far away for extended periods of time.
In the end, you wore him down like you usually did until he gave in and you got your way.
Frank took in the impatient and stubborn expression covering your features, the one he had become all too familiar with and grown to adore. You were a force to be reckoned with when you wanted something, just as much as he was. Even though he didn’t want you to ever have a reason to use a gun, he would rather know you were safe and could handle yourself in his absence if it came down to it. 
“Alright, alright. Wipe that pout off your face and c’mere.”
Doing your best to conceal your tiny smile of victory, you went to stand in front of Frank, but he held his large hand out to stop you and motioned for you to move back a little.
“Keep your distance, okay? You don’t wanna be too close. Now, step one.”
Frank reached out to grab your wrist and brought your hand up towards the barrel of the gun, placing his large hand on top of your own and squeezing gently to signal for you to grab onto it. Once he felt your tight grip on the barrel, he slid his hand over to grab onto your forearm and pushed against it, which caused the gun in his right hand to shift directions. It was no longer aimed at you, but pointed at the wall to your left.
“You wanna take the gun offline, yeah? Look.”
Glancing up at him briefly, you nodded to show him that you were paying attention. When he pulled your arm back in the position it was before, aiming the gun at you once again, you quickly redirected your focus back to his large hands. To reiterate what he was trying to explain to you, Frank repeated his demonstration two more times to make sure you understood.
“Offline, right? Offline, right? And push hard, as hard as you can.”
While Frank’s eyes were locked on you as he demonstrated the first step, you were studying his movements, committing every detail to memory. It seemed simple enough in theory so far. Keep your distance, grab the barrel of the gun, and push it away from yourself hard. When he let go of your arm, you let go of the gun, and you looked up to see that Frank was already watching you.
“Show me.”
Without hesitating, you swiftly reached out to grab the barrel of the gun and forcefully pushed it to the left. Frank let you redirect it to a certain point, and then pushed back to hold the gun in place. His strength was something you couldn’t combat, and as you kept pushing at the barrel, his resistance  made the gun almost wobble in your hands. 
“Attagirl. Easy, easy. Relax.”
Frank reached out with his left hand and grabbed onto your wrist, gently squeezing it to steady your hand.
“Alright, now step two, you go for that wrist, yeah? You get control. Go.”
Immediately you reached out with your right hand to wrap your fingers around Frank’s wrist to grab onto it tightly. Giving a slight shake of his head, Frank pulled your hand off of his wrist and guided it underneath his wrist instead.
“Look, underneath, yeah? Underneath. Go for the joint. Joints are weakest.”
Everything Frank was showing you seemed so simple that it filled you with a false sense of confidence. With your right hand under his right wrist, you gripped onto the barrel tightly with your left hand and took a step back as you tried to tug it away, thinking it would spring loose. Frank let out a grunt of disapproval and pulled his right arm back, easily slipping the gun out of your grasp completely and causing you to stumble forward a bit. He had a somewhat stern look on his face as he wagged the gun in your direction twice.
“Easy, bang bang. Don’t ever pull a gun towards you. You push it away.”
Letting out a huff of annoyance as your previous overzealous confidence fizzled out, you looked up at Frank as he held his left hand out towards you to signal for you to stay in place. He wasn’t teasing you anymore like he had been earlier. This wasn't Frank that had made you strawberry pancakes and caressed your legs while they sat in his lap as the two of you shared breakfast this morning. This was Frank that nearly sent your ex to the morgue instead of prison. He was back in full protective bodyguard mode.
“Listen to me. Use your legs, get underneath, and twist. Don’t pull, twist. Yeah? C’mon, show me.”
Taking a deep breath, you gave a slight nod and went over the steps in your head. Grab the barrel of the gun, shove it away from yourself, slip your other hand under the wrist joint, and twist the gun away. Your lips faintly twitched as you silently recited the steps to yourself three times for good measure. Frank didn’t make a move to rush you. He kept his eyes on you and waited patiently until you were ready to give it a try. 
Sucking in one more deep breath, your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and you sprung into action. Taking a quick step forward, you reached out to tightly grab the barrel of the gun with your left hand, and while you pushed it away to the left, you simultaneously slipped your right hand under Frank’s wrist. Twisting the barrel of the gun forcefully to the right caused Frank’s wrist to twist with it until he was forced to let go, and in that short window of weakness you were able to pull the gun out of his hand with a hard step backwards.
Glancing down at the gun in your hands, your eyes went wide with surprise and your mouth hung open as you let out an incredulous laugh. 
“Holy shit, that actually worked!”
Frank held his hands up like you had just made a touchdown, and he started to clap as a proud tooth bearing grin stretched over his lips.
“Look at that, huh? Who got a gun, huh?”
Looking up at Frank, your lips parted into a huge grin of your own while you held it up like a trophy and spoke in a proud voice.
“I have a gun.”
“Attagirl. You’re goddamn right you do. You did good, sweetheart. Real good. Feels good, yeah?”
Biting down on your bottom lip, you let out a soft laugh while admiring the gun in your hands. Well, more so admiring the fact that you were able to actually take it from Frank. The only reason you felt comfortable holding the gun right now was because Frank had shown you the clip was empty before he started demonstrating the basics earlier. 
Pointing a loaded gun at Steven had been different. You were blinded in a fit of rage, not thinking clearly, but deep down you knew there was no way you would have actually pulled the trigger. However if you had been level headed, you probably wouldn’t have taken it from Billy, even if he offered. 
“Yeah…yeah it does.”
And it did feel good. It made you feel strong…less helpless. Frank was giving you back a sense of safety and security that had been stolen from you when you were first threatened by the Defenders of Freedom. Even if you never used this lesson, and you genuinely hoped you wouldn’t have to, you felt a surge of confidence knowing that you were at least capable of protecting yourself in some capacity. 
“Okay, step three.”
A pinch of confusion settled between your brows as you looked up at Frank when he mentioned a third step, and you noticed that he wasn’t smiling anymore. A grim look had settled over his features that sent a chill of unease down your spine.
“You just took a gun off someone that wanted to use it on you. What d’you do.”
The delight of pride had disappeared from his face and was swiftly replaced by a shadow of severity that was now coveting his sharp features, and the elated grin that was on your own lips had slowly fallen from grace. It was a rhetorical question you both knew the answer to, but you hadn’t factored in a third step. It hadn’t even crossed your mind, and Frank could see that in your eyes.
“You use it on them. Don’t matter who they are, you do not hesitate. You got that?”
Looking down at the gun in your hands, the weight of it was suddenly too heavy in your palms. Step three was a reminder that step one and two weren’t just to boost your confidence in protecting yourself; they were steps to defend yourself. Swallowing thickly, you nodded your head in silent understanding.
“Good. Show me.”
Frank’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. It wasn’t a command, but it wasn’t a suggestion either. Placing both of your hands on the gun the way he had shown you to properly hold it, you took a deep breath, slowly raising it to aim in Frank’s direction. You weren’t sure if it was the fact that he knew the clip was empty, or that this most likely wasn’t the first time he had stared down the barrel of a gun, but he looked completely unphased. The canvas of his face was expressionless, but his eyes were what you had learned to read. Only right now, you couldn’t understand what they were trying to tell you. 
The gun trembled slightly in your grasp, as if every cell in your body knew exactly how wrong it felt to point a gun at Frank, loaded or not. The self defense lesson you wanted for a possible yet highly improbable scenario had quickly become too heavy and realistic, and you were quickly regretting even asking for it.
“Show me.”
“I’m not doing that-”
“It ain’t loaded-”
“Frank, I don’t want to-”
“What’d I say, huh? I don’t care who it is, you do not hesitate. Ever. Now, show me you understand.”
Frank’s tone was a little more forceful, but the volume of it was still even and somewhat soft. You knew there were no repercussions if you didn’t pull the trigger. He had learned early on that he couldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to, and you trusted him enough to know that he would never try to force you. Frank never demanded anything of you, he always asked.
But you had asked for this, and he wanted you to follow through with it.
Clenching your jaw, you let out a shaky exhale through your nose, and you slowly squeezed the trigger like he had taught you to yesterday when you were out in the woods using cans as target practice. The click that sounded caused you to flinch, and it seemed to echo loudly in the living room. Frank on the other hand didn’t visibly react to it at all.
Without another word, you placed the gun down onto the coffee table a little too forcefully and headed towards the back door, wanting to put as much distance between it and yourself as possible. Frank caught your wrist before you could get too far and gently tugged you back towards himself.
“Hey-”
“I’m going for a walk.”
“No, you ain’t. You ain’t runnin’ away, you’re gonna stay here and talk to me. We ain’t doin’ that not communicatin’ shit. Why are you upset?”
“I told you I didn’t want to do that-”
“You asked me to teach you. I said no, but you kept on beggin’. What did you think this was gonna be, huh? You think you get a gun off someone, and it ends there? No. As soon as you get control and take it, you use it. No negotiatin’, no questionin’ it, you do it-”
“And what if I can’t, Frank?”
The distress in your voice made him pause and clench his jaw. He could see that you were visibly upset, and for a moment he wondered if he was being too hard on you. You said it yourself, this was not your area of expertise. It was his. Frank had years of professional training under his belt. Pulling a trigger was something he didn’t even have to think twice about. It was an automatic response. The aftermath of what followed didn’t even make him bat an eye. There were always casualties in war. 
But you weren’t a soldier, and having to actually pull the trigger on someone would be something that haunted you for the rest of your life if it came down to it.
Letting out a deep exhale through his large nose, Frank stepped forward and wrapped one of his arms around your waist to pull you into his embrace while using his other hand to slip his fingers gently into your hair to brush it back before cradling your face in his right hand.
“Listen to me. If it comes down to you, or someone else, you do whatever you gotta do to save yourself, you got that?”
The rational part of your brain knew that Frank was right. If you had taken a gun from Cavella or Walker, you would’ve had to shoot them. There’s no way they wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to kill you if they had it. But the emotional part of your brain was struggling to figure out if you could handle the consequences of taking someone’s life, justified or not. Frank could see the internal conflict in your eyes, and he lightly brushed the calloused pad of his thumb along your cheekbone as the rough timbre of his voice broke the tense silence.
“Hey, no one’s sayin’ you gotta shoot ‘em point blank, alright? I’ve seen your aim, and it ain’t all that great anyway. You’d be lucky to scare ‘em off with firin’ a terrible shot just so you could get away.”
Rolling your eyes at his comment, you let out a dry laugh. As much as you wanted to be annoyed, he was right. You were terrible. You didn’t hit a single can yesterday, even at close range. You did manage to scare the shit out of some crows in a tree though.
“You are such an ass.”
The edge of Frank’s mouth twitched up into a light smirk while giving your waist a gentle squeeze.
“And you’re cute thinkin’ you could actually do some damage. I know a blind guy that can hit targets better than you. Look, you gotta stop gettin’ upset ‘bout things that might not even happen, alright? If it ever comes down to it, remember that you’re the one controllin’ the gun, yeah? It ain’t controllin’ you. Wherever you aim, the bullet’s gonna go. You can shoot ‘em in the leg, foot, shoulder, hell shoot ‘em in the dick for all I care. That’ll keep ‘em down for a while. You just promise me you’ll pull that trigger. You get ‘em down however you want, and then you get the hell outta there. That’s all you gotta do, yeah?”
Frank dipped his head to catch your eyes, staring intently into them. Letting out a deep breath, you bit down on your bottom lip and nodded while placing your hands on Frank’s biceps. You could do that. Injuring someone just to get away was a lot more manageable for your conscience. Frank lightly grasped your jaw in his large hand, his bottom three fingers wrapping around your throat while his index finger and thumb held your jaw. He tipped your head back so that you had no choice but to look up at him.
“Lemme hear you say it.”
Staring up into his warm brown eyes, you gazed up at him silently for a moment before speaking.
“No hesitating. I promise.”
“Attagirl. C’mere.”
Frank leaned in to capture your lips in a soft and sweet kiss. Sometimes it amazed you how easily he was able to talk you down from the ledge. Frank was a man of few words, but he somehow always knew exactly which ones to say to ease whatever anxieties were weighing on your mind. And the distraction of his plush lips against yours also certainly helped.
Ever since the other night by the fireplace, every kiss between the two of you that started out soft and sweet had a way of evolving into something more passionate and insatiable. Maybe it was the months of denying your feelings for one another, or maybe there was just some magnetic pull between your souls, but whatever it was, neither of you could get enough.
Before you could even register that you were moving, Frank was lifting you up by your hips and setting you down on the dining table, his hungry kisses leaving a searing path along your jawline and down the column of your neck.
“Did good today, sweetheart. Did real goddamn good, made me so proud.”
Frank’s gravely songs of praise in your ear only further ignited the flame of desire that was burning in your lower belly. Despite the warmth of his large palm touching your bare skin as he slipped it underneath your shirt to caress your lower back, a shiver teasingly tumbled down your spine from the contact.
“I had a good teacher.”
“Nah, I think you’re just a natural, baby.”
“I thought I had terrible aim?”
“Didn’t say you were perfect. Everybody’s got their strengths and weaknesses.”
A soft laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it, and you could feel the rumble of Frank’s deep chuckle vibrating in his chest that was pressed against yours.
“Wow, you really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Castle.”
Frank pulled back slightly to look down at you, his eyes traveling over your figure to drink in the sight of you sitting on the edge of the dining table before they slowly wandered back up to meet your gaze. He arched one of his thick brows as a smug smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Yours are currently danglin’, sweetheart.”
Before you could retort with a smartass comment of your own, Frank’s mouth was back on your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses along your sensitive skin. Feeling his tongue gliding along your collarbone and giving it a delectable love bite, you closed your eyes and let your head fall back, granting Frank all the access he wanted to your skin.
The feeling of his lips on your neck was so heavenly you almost didn’t notice that he had popped the button on your jeans and tugged down your zipper until he was lifting you up slightly with one arm around your waist and pulling the denim down your hips with his free hand. As soon as your jeans were completely off, your own hands were reaching for Frank’s belt buckle, but he grasped your wrists and halted your attempt. A soft noise of protest quickly slipped past your lips.
“Frank-”
“Shh shh shh. Spread your legs for me, baby.”
A rush of heat pooled in your cheeks at his request, but you obliged immediately. Frank leaned in to kiss you deeply, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip and nipping at it softly while his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your panties and slipped them off too slowly for your liking. The sudden contact of the crisp autumn air coming in through the open windows hitting your slicked folds had you gasping, and Frank used that to his advantage by slipping his tongue into your mouth to caress your own sensually. 
“Spread ‘em wider for me, sweetheart. C’mon.”
Frank’s deep voice was quiet, but it nestled in your ears as comfortably as it did between your thighs. He pulled you a little more towards the edge of the dining table, and when you spread your legs further for him, he sank down to his knees in front of you and let out a low groan of appreciation at the sight waiting for him. 
“Attagirl, that’s it. God, look at you. You should see how fuckin’ pretty you look right now, baby.”
His large hands gripped onto your soft thighs, kneading and squeezing your flesh with his thick fingers. Frank didn’t waste a second before diving into your cunt face first. As soon as his warm and wet tongue began to strum your clit like chords to his favorite song, your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head. He brought your legs over his broad shoulders, burying his face so deep into your core, you weren’t sure how he was breathing.
Your hand quickly found a fistful of his slightly grown out hair that you gripped onto to steady yourself, and when you gave it an experimental tug, the vibration of his groan against your clit had your thighs trembling more than any toy you had ever gotten for yourself before.
“Fuck…Frank…”
Frank let out a loud grunt as he pulled back for just a moment to stare at your glistening pussy almost in awe, his hooded eyes briefly meeting your own for a second before focusing back on the display of your desire for him.
“Taste so good sweetheart, so fuckin’ good. You got no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”
He dove right back in, this time slipping his tongue inside of you to explore while using his large nose to bump against your clit repeatedly. The stimulation had your back arching off the dining table and a loud moan echoed throughout the cabin. Tugging harder at his dark roots, you pushed your hips up against his face, desperately and greedily searching for more. None of your exes had ever eaten you out like this before. Most of them didn’t even know what the fuck they were doing, and the rest gave up after a few minutes because it “took too long”, but still expected you to suck them off until your jaw ached.
But Frank…God, Frank knew what he was doing. His thick fingers were digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, following your hips wherever they went. The groans that continued to vibrate against your clit not only turned you on because of their stimulation, but because you could tell that Frank was genuinely enjoying eating your pussy. The fact that he was getting just as much pleasure out of it as you were had you on the brink of an orgasm alone. Frank had a way of making every experience feel brand new, and it made you realize just how much you had been missing out on in your previous relationships.
That familiar bubbly feeling was building up inside of you, cresting slowly like a tidal wave ready to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting beach. Your breaths were coming out in short staccato variations, and at this point you were roughy tugging at Frank’s hair with both hands while essentially fucking his face. Not that he seemed to mind at all. If anything, it just seemed to make him more feral.
“Yesyesyesyes…please-fuck, Frank…I…I…”
Frank pulled you even closer towards the edge of the dining table to where your ass was basically hanging off of it, and the jolt of his large palm smacking against your ass was the only indication you got that he understood what you were trying to tell him.
You thought you had more time, but your climax suddenly crashed into you without further warning, and your hips were stuttering as Frank continued his incessant assault on your pussy with his tongue. It seemed like he didn’t want to let a drop of your essence go to waste, and while you appreciated his enthusiasm, the way he was flicking his tongue rapidly against your overstimulated clit was riding that very thin line between pain and pleasure, and you were weakly shoving at his broad shoulders.
“Okay okay okay…Frank…fuck, please! Just…give me a second, God-”
Frank dragged his tongue up your entire pussy from your entrance to your clit one last time before granting you mercy with a low growl. While you panted heavily laying back against the dining room table, he was pressing featherlight kisses to each of your inner thighs, but due to your body feeling like a live wire, they felt like faint shocks that had your body jolting every time his wet lips met your heated skin. He chuckled deeply watching you respond to his touch.
“You alright there, sweetheart?”
Lifting your hand, you gave him a weak thumbs up, and Frank just laughed even louder in amusement at that. The sound of his laughter combined with your own blissed out post orgasm state had a lazy grin stretching over your lips. You felt his large and rough hands slipping underneath your shirt, gently caressing your bare skin and grabbing your waist while he leaned over you, kissing your lips deeply. The taste of your own sweet tang on Frank’s tongue had your head spinning, and a soft hum sounded in the back of your throat.  Even though you were still recovering from your first ever oral orgasm, the feeling of Frank’s hard cock straining against his jeans and rubbing against your inner thigh reignited your greed.
Brushing your hand slowly down his chest, you palmed him firmly through his jeans, and Frank let out a grunt while pushing himself further against your hand. He broke the kiss momentarily to nuzzle his large nose against your throat.
“If ya need a minute-”
“No. Now.”
While you unfastened his belt in record time, Frank placed his hands on the table on either side of your head and pulled back to look down at you with a soft chuckle at your impatience. He lightly cocked his head to the side, his brown eyes darkened with lust as they roamed over you shamelessly. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and a crooked smirk caressed his mouth.
“Anybody ever tell you what an impatient lil thing you are?”
A smirk of your own tugged across your lips while you slipped your hand into his jeans, stroking his thick cock through his briefs, earning a quiet grunt from Frank.
“Apart from you every day since we met? Maybe a few other people. Is my lack of patience really what you wanna talk about right now, big guy?”
The sultry tone of your voice did not go unnoticed by Frank, and in fact, it only made his cock swell even more in your welcoming hand. He slowly moved his hips back and forth as you teasingly stroked him and leaned down closer towards you, nuzzling his nose along your throat before whispering huskily into your ear.
“Got somethin’ better in mind.”
By the time Frank had carried you down the hall to the master bedroom, the two of you had left a trail of forgotten items of clothing strewn like breadcrumbs along the path from the kitchen. He let you push him back against the mattress and grabbed your hips to pull you on top of him, his lips moving in sync with your own, but when you felt the swollen head of his cock bump against your clit, you suddenly pressed your palms firmly against his chest and pulled back while breaking the kiss.
“Wait.”
Frank immediately paused, loosening his grip on your hips, his lust clouded eyes clearing a bit while searching your own and wandering over your figure for the source of the problem.
“What? What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
The concern in his rough timbre combined with the worry in his soft brown eyes made your heart melt. A gentle smile covered your lips while you reached out to delicately hold his strong jaw in your hands, and you leaned in to kiss his lips softly.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t think it’s fair you get to have all the fun.”
Frank’s apprehension morphed into confusion, and a few creases nestled between his thick brows. 
“Huh?”
Letting out a soft laugh at how adorable he looked when he was confused, you decided to explain with actions instead of words. When you moved backwards off his lap to settle between his legs, Frank raised himself up on his elbows, following you with his eyes as he watched you intently. 
“What are you-holy shit.”
Frank’s jaw went slack the second you leaned in and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around it once before beginning to take a few inches into your mouth. Placing one of your hands on his left hip, you teasingly moved your lips up his length until he was out of your mouth with a satisfying pop. Pursing your lips, you let a string of glistening saliva slowly drop onto his tip and used your free hand to spread it down the rest of his thick cock for lubrication, and after wrapping your fingers around his girth, you began to twist your wrist up and down slowly. 
You could feel how tense he was through your hold on his hip. Glancing up at him through your lashes, you noticed that he was staring directly at you, completely mesmerized, and was gripping onto the sheets so tightly you thought he might rip them. Moving your hand from his hip, you reached out to caress his hand, and he slowly loosened his grip, his knuckles no longer stark white. His plush lips were parted, and he was breathing hard, his thick brows knit in complete focus. You allowed him to slip out of your mouth for just a moment to smile softly up at Frank.
“Just relax.”
The sweet sound of your voice seemed to reach his ears, and after a few more moments of hesitation, Frank finally laid back against the mattress and let his head rest on the pillows. He moved the hand that was underneath yours to grab your wrist, turning your hand over so he could slot his fingers between yours to hold it. His other hand slowly came over to card his fingers through your hair before cradling the back of your head. Giving his hand that you were holding a light squeeze, you continued to hold eye contact with Frank while slowly sucking him off, using your hand that was around his base to work over what wouldn’t fit in your mouth.
The sound of his quiet grunts and low moans sent a thrill through you, and you wanted to know just how vocal he could get. Letting go of his hand, you placed both of your palms firmly on his hips and relaxed your jaw completely, taking his entire cock into your mouth until his tip hit the back of your throat. A guttural groan ripped from the depth of his chest and his lower abdomen instantly tensed up as he gripped onto your hair.
“Goddamn-fuck…fuck, sweetheart. Do…do that again. Please…please baby, do it again.”
Taking in a deep inhale through your nose, you prepared yourself to deepthroat Frank’s thick cock again, and this time you held him there until your eyes started to water. He let out a louder moan of your name, and that caused the throbbing between your thighs to evolve from dull to downright unbearable. You thought about sneaking your hand downwards to get a little relief, but Frank had been so unselfish when he ate you out, only focused on your pleasure, and he deserved that same treatment. 
All of a sudden, Frank roughly tugged at your hair, and that made you moan around his cock. You heard him let out a quiet fuck under his breath in response. He gave your hair another tug to get your attention, and his cock slipped from your lips as you licked them and tried to catch your breath while staring at him, noticing that he had sat up.
“C’mere.”
He didn’t give you a chance to protest before he grabbed your throat and pulled you in close to kiss you fervently. Frank’s large and rough hands grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap again, and you let out a soft whine against his lips when the head of his cock rubbed against your sensitive clit. 
“Frank, I didn’t get to finish-”
“As much as I’d love to come down that pretty throat, I need ya baby. Need ya now.”
Grabbing the base of his cock, Frank positioned himself perfectly with your entrance and pulled you down slowly, letting you feel every single inch of him. Your mouth hung open at the sensation, and your body instantly tensed up. You thought Frank had been deep the other night, but he was reaching an even greater depth inside of you right now if that was possible. There was a slight burn as your walls stretched to accommodate his size, but your brain barely even registered it, because Frank was slipping his tongue into your mouth and kissing you sensually as if he wanted to steal the very essence of life from your lungs. 
Once he was fully nestled deep inside of you, a high pitched cry left your mouth, and he wrapped his arm around your waist tightly.
“Shh…s’alright. Just relax for me, sweetheart.”
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you clung to Frank as he wrapped both of his strong arms around your waist and held you tightly against his chest. Both of you sat there for a moment, your foreheads pressed together as you panted. He rubbed his large calloused hand up and down your spine soothingly, his teeth grazing along your ear lobe and biting down gently to distract you from any discomfort. Slowly, the tension in your body melted, and you gave an experimental roll of your hips that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
“That’s it…attagirl. Take your time, sweetheart. M’right here. I got you.”
This felt right. It felt…perfect. Those three little words almost slipped out right there. Grabbing onto the back of his neck, you pulled Frank in for a passionate kiss, trying to pour every ounce of emotion you felt into it. He groaned quietly against your lips when your nails lightly scratched at the back of his head where his hair was shaved closely to his scalp. Moving your hips in slow circles, you grinded down onto Frank’s cock, and he flexed his hips upwards to match your rhythm. The other night by the fireplace had been the best experience of your life, but this…this was something you couldn’t put into words.
Placing your palms against Frank’s firm chest, you pressed lightly and he followed your silent instructions, allowing you to push him onto his back. His large hands gripped firmly onto your hips as he gazed up at you, and you kept your palms flat on his chest while slowly riding his cock. Neither of you could tear your eyes away from each other. The feeling of his warm hands leisurely moving up your bare skin made you shiver, and a soft gasp left your lips when he groped your breasts and squeezed gently. The calloused pad of his thumb gingerly brushing over your peaked nipple had you arching your back, pressing your chest further into his eager hands.
“You’re so goddamn beautiful.”
The sincerity in Frank’s vulnerable whisper nearly brought tears to your eyes. He wasn’t saying it because he thought it was what you wanted to hear, he was saying it because he felt it, and he was making you feel it too. The way he was staring up at you like you were the only thing that mattered had your heart swelling inside your ribcage like a balloon about to burst. It had been a long time since you mattered to someone, and you felt lucky it was Frank. The look in his eyes was almost too much to handle.
Letting your head fall back, you closed your eyes for a moment as you writhed on top of Frank, getting completely lost in how good it felt to be connected to him in such a raw and intimate way. One of his hands traveled up from your breast towards your throat, and he wrapped his fingers tightly around it almost entirely, forcing you to face him again. He pulled you down over him so that your forehead was pressed to his, and the two of you stared deeply into each other's eyes. 
“Frank-”
“I wanna see you. Wanna see those pretty eyes when you come for me. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”
Being this close to him, you noticed for the first time that there were scattered flecks of honey in his deep brown eyes. They looked so warm and inviting, like two melted pools of chocolate you wanted to drown in. The eyes that could say so much with a single look. You thought you could see it…that flicker that he felt it too. You wanted to tell him so fucking badly, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment, and the way he was hitting that spongy spot inside of you that could cause supernovas to appear behind your eyelids was making it hard for you to speak at all.
Holding his face in your hand, your eyes drifted back and forth between his own as you stared down at him in complete devotion, your lips parted as you nodded your head frantically while short and breathy moans escaped you. Frank’s eyes were focused solely on you, one of his hands holding the back of your head while his other remained around your throat. It was getting harder and harder for you to keep your eyes open, but you didn’t want to miss a single second of this moment.
It was also getting harder and harder to not voice the sentiment that was overflowing from your ribcage.
“Frank…I…I-”
Frank cut off your words by capturing your lips in a heated kiss. The softness of his lips against yours, the heat of his bare skin pressed to your own, his thick fingers wrapped around your neck and tangled in your hair, his pubic bone rubbing just right against your clit…it was all too much. Breaking the kiss, you buried your face into the crook of his neck and let out a sharp cry of his name. Your nails raked harshly down his chest when your climax finally peaked, and a white hot cloud of hedonistic desire blinded your vision. 
Your entire body seized up, and you could faintly hear Frank whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he gripped your hips and repeatedly thrust up into you, fucking you through your orgasm while barreling towards his own. The sensation of that alone was enough to nearly send you free falling into another. The intensity of your orgasm had rendered you an incoherent and moaning mess. Frank dug his fingers roughly into the flesh of your hips and came with a deep grunt that nearly sounded like a growl, letting out a loud groan of your name.
The room felt like a sauna. Your face felt overheated, and your hair was stuck to your cheeks and the back of your neck with sweat. Frank had his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, hugging you against his chest. The feeling of his strong heartbeat thundering against your own chest kept you anchored to the moment while your body trembled with aftershocks. You couldn’t move, and you didn’t want to.
As soon as Frank made a move to sit up and pull out of you, a desperate and high pitched whine of protest fell from your lips while you gripped onto his shoulder and dug your nails into the muscle.
“No no no no no, please…don’t move.”
Frank instantly stilled, bringing one of his hands up to brush the sweaty hair stuck to your forehead and neck away. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead and gave your body a gentle squeeze in his strong arms.
“Okay, we don’t gotta move yet.”
Letting out a soft sigh of relief, you buried your face further into Frank’s neck, letting the comforting scent of his cologne calm you. He gently carded his thick fingers through your hair and kept holding you tightly to his chest while resting his head against your own.
“I just wanna stay like this for a while.”
“We can stay like this as long as you want, sweetheart.”
When you started to regain your senses, you started to wonder just how true that statement was. 
How long could you and Frank stay like this before reality came knocking?
Your home wouldn’t always be a crime scene. Eventually the two of you would have to go back to work. Now that everything had changed between the two of you, what would a new normal look like? Frank’s job required him to be with someone constantly. What happens when he gets assigned to someone else? What if it’s another woman? Even though Frank was broody and unapproachable initially, you had still found him attractive, and all the time you spent together over the past few months led you right here to this moment.
What if that happened with someone else? What if the next woman he was assigned to found him just as attractive? What if she wanted him? You and Frank hadn’t really established what this was between the two of you. Were you together? Did he want to be together? Would he still want to be together if the next woman was prettier and less stubborn and actually-
“Quit it.”
The sound of his deep voice breaking through the silence interrupted your spiraling. 
“What?”
“Whatever you’re overthinkin’ right now, let it go.”
Removing your face from the crook of Frank’s neck, you pulled back slightly to peer down at him in pure curiosity.
“How do you even-”
“I can practically hear the gears turnin’ in your head, sweetheart. You keep thinkin’ so hard, smoke’s gonna start comin’ out of your ears.”
Giving him a pointed look expressing you weren’t amused, he let out a quiet chuckle and gently brushed the calloused pad of his thumb along your cheekbone.
“C’mon, you ain’t got nothin’ to worry ‘bout right now. Just relax, yeah?”
Letting out a soft sigh, you nodded and laid your head back against Frank’s shoulder, nuzzling your nose against his neck as he hugged onto you tightly. For a while, you two laid there wrapped up in one another, and you were able to let some of your anxieties go. The afterglow of your shared euphoria was peaceful, and you could’ve even fallen asleep at that moment, but something Frank said earlier suddenly popped back into your head. 
“Hey Frank?”
“Hm?”
“Do you really know a blind guy that has a good aim with guns?”
Frank let out a quiet snicker at your question.
“He don’t use guns. He’s too…Catholic.”
That did nothing to answer your question and only fueled you with more inquiries.
“But…you said he could hit targets better than I could.”
Frank simply grunted in response. You stayed silent waiting for further explanation, but when one didn’t come, you continued your questions.
“How?”
“Hell if I know.”
Sitting up a little bit again, you stared down at Frank in complete puzzlement.
“But…he’s blind. That doesn’t make any sense.”
“No it don’t.”
“So…he’s-”
“An asshole. Go to sleep.”
Letting out a soft laugh, your eyes widened slightly as you gently smacked his chest.
“Frank!”
“What? Cause he’s blind he can’t be an asshole?”
“Well…no. But…how does he do it?”
“You’ll have to ask ‘em yourself.”
“I thought Billy was your only friend.”
Frank pulled a look of faux offense at that, his thick brows knit as he let out a puff of air through his lips.
“Ouch. I got other friends, smartass. And I never said he was one. He’s more of a pain in my ass.”
Frank gently pinched your ass which made you squeal before erupting into a fit of laughter.
“Hey!”
A huge grin split across your lips as he suddenly flipped you both over, managing to keep himself nestled inside of you while he pinned you beneath his large body. As he leaned in to kiss your lips, you brought your index finger up and pressed it against his mouth.
“I’m not done. I have more questions.”
“Course you do.”
“I wanna know who this mystery blind man is with good aim, and your other friends that you suddenly have that you’ve kept from me. While you’re at it, is there anything else you’re hiding, Castle?”
While your question was intended to be teasing, a dark look flashed across Frank’s eyes, and it made your breath hitch in your throat. He stared down at you silently for a moment, and it made you wonder just how much more there was to Frank that you hadn’t uncovered yet. As soon as you removed your finger from his lips, Frank leaned in closer, caging you in with his large hands on either side of your head. As he loomed over you, he slowly thrust his hips against your own, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. His breath was warm against your lips while he nuzzled his large nose along your own, his rough voice coming out in a husky whisper.
“Think I liked you better when the only thing you could say was my name, sweetheart.”
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amhrosina · 9 months
Text
Be My Baby
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Summary: Frank takes you on a weekend trip to his cabin after you have a rough week at work. Your first stop? The enormous bathtub with enough room for soooo many activities.
Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.8k
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a/n: hello! i'm back! my personal life is still a wreck but i missed writing for frank. this is probably the most self indulgent fic i've ever written lol it is quite literally the most ooey-gooey romantic plot before the softest smut imaginable. what can i say? i'm a hoe for soft frank. enjoy & thank you to the nonnie that requested something similar to this!
warnings: softest smut imaginable, fluff to the max, 'i'm an asshole to everyone except you' trope, a teensy little bit of crybaby reader if you squint, frank would burn the world for reader, reader is sOoOoO in love with frank (who isn't??), they're both a little wrapped up in each other's world and don't give a shit about what's happening outside of them type of vibes, pet names, etc.
From what you had seen, Frank’s cabin was cozy and warm, but since your arrival half an hour ago, you’d only had the luxury of soaking in the tub while Frank took care of unloading the car. He’d insisted on doing it alone, claiming his girl shouldn’t have to lift a finger for anything, and honestly after the week you’d had, you were temporarily glad he was as stubborn as a mule. You were sure that sentiment would fade the next time you were feeling bratty, but for now, you tried your best to relax and forget what an awful week it had been at work.
The heat of the bath water sent a wave of goosebumps down your spine, enticing a low groan from your lips. Sinking further into the water, you realized just how big the tub was. It stretched at least six feet across and was almost deep enough to stand, clearly a custom made feature of the cabin. You supposed Frank probably needs the room, being as large a man as he is. Still, it felt like you were in a luxurious hot tub, rather than a regular bathtub.
“There’s a button to turn on the jets if you want ‘em.”
Frank’s gentle voice carried across the bathroom, startling you from your relaxed state. You hadn’t even heard him come in. You turned, eyeing his powerful figure as he made his way toward you and sat on the edge of the tub. It was easy to get lost in the way he moved, and you tried your best to not stare at the muscles straining against the black longsleeve he was wearing.
“You okay?” He asked, reaching out to softly run his knuckles along the curve of your damp cheek. He was always gentle with you, but the desire to take care of you was even more present in his eyes than usual. It really had been a shitty week.
“This place is amazing.” You said in awe, turning your face away to hide your grin. His hand, already knowing what you were trying to do, softly gripped your jaw and turned it back to face him.
“You barely saw the place.” He chuckled.
“Whose fault is that?” You raised an eyebrow at him and sat up, fully exposing your bare chest to him. His eyes briefly flicked down to your nipples, hardening as the cool air touched them, before returning his gaze upwards. “Get in. There’s plenty of room for both of us.”
He nodded and stood, but began walking in the opposite direction of the bath. You furrowed your brow, watching him tug his shirt off and throw it on the counter. When he saw your expression, he grinned.
“Hang on. I brought something for you.”
“What do you mean?” You called after him, but he was already moving again.
He disappeared through the doorway, generating even more confusion, before returning with an assembly of things tucked under his arms. You watched as he worked his way around the room, placing various objects here and there until finally he flicked off the lights and turned to face you again.
The room was now aglow with flickering candle light, coating Frank’s looming figure in a warm haze. He’d gone for mostly unscented, knowing how strong smells could give you headaches, but had left in a few lavender candles because he knew how much it relaxed you. He also managed to sneak an entire bottle of champagne into the car without you noticing, of which he was pouring into two flutes. You blinked back tears as he handed you your glass, unable to express how warm your chest felt at the effort he was putting in to make you feel better.
“Frank.” You murmured, smiling bashfully, “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” 
“‘s what you deserve.” He shrugged, stepping out of the rest of his clothes. 
He sank into the tub next to you, tugging your body against his in a swift motion. He sat with his back against the edge, allowing you to easily settle your knees on either side of his thighs, facing him in the dim room. You sat just a little taller than him at this angle - chest pressed against his warm skin, arms resting on his broad shoulders - and God, he looked divine. The drive had taken a few hours, just long enough for the stubble to return to his cheeks after this morning’s shave, giving him a rugged look that you thought was just so handsome. You were unable to resist the temptation of running your nails over it in a soft scratch, eliciting a groan from deep in Frank’s chest. The rumble reverberated through your chest as you pressed yourself fully against him, seeking more of his affection. He tugged your head down onto his shoulder and began running his fingers along the base of your neck in a soothing pattern.
“You never answered my question earlier.” He murmured, resting his jaw against your head. “You okay, sweet girl?”
You sighed, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment as you mulled over your feelings. You were a sensitive soul to begin with, and your boss had been on edge all morning when he finally snapped at you for something you had no control over, which ultimately had you tearing up for the rest of the day. When you’d walked through the door crying, Frank’s eyes flashed violently between anger at your boss and sympathy for you. The sympathy had won, and now you were in a beautiful cabin in upstate New York, wrapped in his strong arms. Still, you weren’t sure how you were going to deal with your boss’ temper when you returned to work on Monday.
“I don’t know,” you finally replied, shrugging, “Can you ask me again later?”
You felt his cheeks widen into a small grin. He nodded, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Don’t think I won’t.” He teased, calling you on your avoidant tendencies before you could even notice them yourself.
“How long have you had this place?” You wondered, nuzzling into his heated skin.
“I bought it a few months after Maria and the kids.” He said softly, almost whispering when he had to relay his wife’s name aloud. “Thought maybe I was done with the city. Change can be good, ya’ know?”
“But you came back.” You lifted your head from his shoulder so you could look him in the eyes. 
“But I came back.” He parroted, nodding. “And then I met you.”
“And you stayed.” You finished for him.
“Of course I stayed. Couldn’t leave you behind, sweet girl. ‘ve been sweet on you since the day I met you.”
This was true. From the moment you’d met, he’d been nothing but gentle and kind toward you. You had no idea, of course, that this type of behavior was incredibly far away from Frank Castle’s usual attitude until you’d met Matt Murdock, who was so shocked at Frank’s subdued personality and general softness around you that Frank had to physically close Matt’s gaping jaw for him.
“But you never sold the place?” You questioned.
“I figured we might need somewhere to run away to every once in a while. Are you mad that I didn’t tell you about it before today? I wanted it to be a surprise.”
For a moment, he looked genuinely worried that he might’ve upset you.
“How could I be mad when I’m sitting in this enormous tub, surrounded by candles and champagne, pressed up against the man of my dreams?”
He smiled then, and you could tell it was a genuine smile because of the way his cheeks dimpled at the corner of his laugh lines. It was an award winning smile, you thought. You gently set the empty champagne glasses on the edge of the tub before cupping his cheeks in your hands.
“My Frankie,” you mumbled, running your thumbs across his cheekbones, “What would I do without you?”
You really hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but every time you looked at him, you felt yourself being pulled closer and closer to him. His compassion and kindness toward you, even after everything he’d been through, was something you couldn’t avoid leaning into. All your life you’d been taking care of others, and finally, here was someone begging to take care of you.
“You don’t have to worry about that, okay? ’m here to stay.” He mumbled, bringing the pads of your fingertips to his lips for individual, soft kisses. “I love you, and ‘m gonna take care of you forever.”
Tears welled in your eyes as an overwhelming rush of emotion passed over you. In your arms was a man that should’ve been bitter and angry at the world around him. He had earned the right to become spiteful and hardened, and no one could fault him for that. And yet - and yet - in your arms was a man that loved you with his entire being. Who understood you at your core, saw the dark parts of you, and loved those parts even more. Who was soft for no one but you. Who you loved, too.
A tear slid down your cheek as you kissed him, long and slow and sensual because you wanted nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and never let go. He smiled into the kiss, cradling your head with his beautiful, calloused hands. It wasn’t enough. You needed his gentle touch everywhere. Pressing yourself against him, you felt yourself sliding along his achingly hard cock, raising the already warm temperature in the room to searing. Heat pulsed between your legs, begging to be touched.
“My pretty girl,” he mumbled against your lips, kissing the corner of your mouth before following the curve of your jawline to your neck, “My pretty, sensitive girl.”
The praise made your head swim. You rocked your hips again, sliding along his length until you were hovering directly over him, waiting for the go ahead to sink down. He grunted, pressing open mouthed kisses up your throat before coaxing your hips lower and lower. You gasped when he finally pushed into you, and Frank took the opportunity to lick the inside of your gaping mouth as he did so. You shuttered against him, wanting everything he had to offer and more.
“P-please, Frankie.” You murmured, arching your back as he bucked his hips upwards.
“Please what, sweetheart?” He breathed, wrapping one of his enormous hands around the back of your head, forcing you to look down at him as you rode him. His other arm was wrapped around your torso, tugging your hips forward and back to stimulate your clit against the base of his cock. It was such an erotic way to be held that you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. He leaned his head against your forehead and kissed the tears that made their way down your flushed skin. “Tell me, sweet girl.”
“I l-love you.” You purred, stuttering as he made his way down your body, kissing everywhere he could reach. When he got to your pebbled nipples, you sucked in a sharp breath. He knew exactly how to get you off, and he was staring right at them.
“I love you too, pretty girl.” He grinned and pressed a chaste kiss to each of your nipples, eliciting a pornographic moan from deep in your chest. 
He continued to push and pull your hips in a steady rhythm, grinding your clit against his pelvis as you bounced up and down his length. Slowly, in a teasing manner that had a new wave of fresh, needy tears streaming down your cheeks, he leaned forward and circled his tongue around the sensitive nub. You whined with impatience as he pulled away, only to offer the same kitten lick to your other breast. You knew he would take care of you like he always did, but his teasing was making your entire body tremble with anticipation. 
“I know, I know,” he cooed, kissing the valley between your breasts, “‘t’s okay, baby. Be patient. I’ll take care of you.”
You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut as you let out a mewl. You felt the hand Frank had been using to hold your head steady loosen its grip, and suddenly, he was softly wiping the tears away from under your eyes with his thumbs.
“You’re doing so good for me, bunny.” He murmured, and you very nearly came at the pet name he loved to praise you with. “‘m gonna make you feel real good, okay?”
“Please,” you begged, digging your fingers into his shoulders, “Need you.”
That was all it took for Frank to finally snap. In one swift motion, he wrapped his lips around your breast and began to run his tongue across your sensitive nipple. His hand traveled from cradling your cheek to rubbing small, sloppy circles around your pulsing clit. You keened, overcome with so much pleasure that you felt your entire body trembling against Frank’s.
The bathroom was big enough for your soft moans to echo, and other than the sloshing of the bath water, that was the sound Frank heard as you came apart on top of him. Your head was spinning as the heat in your gut finally found its release, uncoiling in waves of overwhelming pleasure that sent you reeling. 
“That’s it,” he breathed, “Just like that, pretty girl. You’re so good for me, baby.”
His fingers hadn’t stopped circling your clit. You were quickly growing overstimulated and conflicted, wanting nothing more than to keep riding him while also needing to get away from his dexterous and sinful fingers. He watched you for a moment, in awe - the way your lips parted every time a moan slipped out of your mouth, the heaving of your chest as your heart rate tried and failed to return to normal, the intense trembling of your limbs every time he circled your clit. He wasn’t worthy. He knew that. He didn’t care. He’d take care of you for as long as you’d let him, and he’d enjoy every second of it.
“F-Frankie,” you stuttered in between heaving breaths, “I can’t- I’m- It’s sensitive.”
“Shh, sh, sh, sh, I know, baby. I know,” he cooed, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone and up your neck, “Can you give me one more, bunny? Be good and give me one more.”
You shuttered against him, resting your forehead against his and breathing out a sultry whine. He continued his onslaught of kisses along your jawline, following the upward curve of your chin until his lips were on yours again. His agile tongue swept into your mouth mid-moan, sending heat into your already molten core.
“Wanna feel you come around me again, baby.” He groaned and tightened his hold around your torso, sweeping his tongue along your bottom lip before capturing your mouth in his again. 
He had brought you to the brink again already. You squeezed around him, earning a rare groan from Frank. The usually stoic and quiet man let out another sinful moan when you arched your back and squeezed again. He was as close as you were to the edge, and God, the tension was palpable. 
Finally, in a moment of pure bliss, he nipped at your bottom lip and let out a soft, barely there whimper, which sent you careening off the edge and into oblivion. You could feel yourself clenching around him as you came, but your head had been sent straight to a euphoric haze. Your heart thundered in your chest as Frank wrapped his arms around your torso and held you tight against his chest, coming inside your sensitive, throbbing pussy. 
You’d both worked yourselves into a haze, high off each other’s touch. The comedown was gentle and warm - soft caresses of each other’s skin, chaste kisses pressed to collarbones and fingertips, thundering heartbeats slowing in unison. The bath water was surprisingly still warm, and you couldn’t help but nuzzle into Frank’s chest with languorous, droopy eyes.
“You okay?” He asked, running his fingers up the length of your spine.
You nodded into his chest, sighing. “I’m perfect.”
“‘m glad.” He responded, kissing your forehead lightly. “‘m sorry you had such a rough week.”
“I’m not.” You giggled, glancing around at the luxurious bathtub you were in. “This place is like a dream.”
He held you tighter against him, resting his chin on your head before responding. 
“You don’t know the half of it, pretty girl.”
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 months
Note
hope you having a good day/night 💘
frank having a wet dream (i’m not a native speaker i’m not sure if it’s called this, i’m sorry) about reader and when it’s just about to endddd….reader wakes him up cos obviously he was grunting, sweating and moving a lot in his sleep so she thought he was having a nightmare and she’s worried about him…(my horny brain just died here so i’m leaving the rest of it to you)
a/n: this maaaaaaaannnn 🫠
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“Frank? Baby, wake up,” your sprawled-out fingers gently swept over his broad shoulder, “it’s okay, it’s just a nightmare.”
On a sharp intake of oxygen, Frank stirred from his slumber. Blinking open his dark eyes to see you staring back at him, your cheek smooshed against your pillow, only a second passed before his touch slid up to the sides of your face as he longingly let his forehead melt against your own. 
“Wow,” you uttered softly as he crawled closer, “are you okay?” 
“Mhm,” he hummed gravelly before crashing his lips against yours. 
Out of pure surprise, a palm came up to press against his chest as you grasped the first sliver of a break to tilt your head back enough to search his eyes in the low moonlight, “Frank?”
“It wasn’t a nightmare,” his thumb brushed across your cheekbone as his gaze all but ate you up. 
“Frank, you don’t have to act all tough around me, you know that–,” but the rest of your sentence fell from your lips as he rolled on top of you and the palpable tent in his boxers pressed against your thigh, “oh…” heat swiftly began to rise in your cheeks, “not a nightmare, got it,” a small chuckle bubbled out of you, “I guess I’m sorry then for waking you up.”
“It’s alright,” he dipped down to press a kiss to your jaw, “dreams are fun and all,” his pecks slowly began to migrate further south, “but I’d much rather have the real deal,” holding onto the covers that draped over you both, he flashed you a small smirk before his head disappeared beneath it.
“Frank…” you let out a laugh as he moved down your body, caressing your curves before his head settled between your soft thighs, “was it about me?” you held the top of the duvet up for you to see him, “did you have a sex dream about me?”
Cocking his head, he said, “why do you sound so surprised?” and pressed a hot kiss to the very top of your inner thigh, “they’re always about you.”
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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How about: showing Frank Castle your new lingerie? It can be fluff, it can be smut, do with it what you please! <3
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Spin For Me.
frank castle x female reader
warnings - allusions to sex. cursing.
valentines masterlist. masterlist. inbox.
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“Keep your eyes closed, Frank. I’m serious.”
He’s grinning, both hands pressed to his face as proof. He’s sat on the edge of the bed, waiting patiently for you to come out of the bathroom.
“Come on, baby. Don’t think I can wait any longer.”
“Good things come to those who wait!” you yell through the wood. Frank laughs, shaking his head.
You finally swing open the door, leaning against the frame with a hand on your hip. You take him in for a moment - the smile on his face, his relaxed stance, the way his sweatpants hug his thighs just right. Inhaling deeply, you clear your throat.
“Open ‘em, Frankie.”
Frank blinks in the lamplight, adjusting to the brightness. When his eyes land on you, his breath hitches in his throat. He rakes his gaze all the way down your body and back up again, slow and sticky sweet. His irises darken, lust blooming across his skin.
“Shit, baby.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Goddamn.”
You push yourself off the doorframe, standing up straight.
“Spin f’me.”
“Hmm?”
“Spin for me, baby. Let me see you.”
You twirl around gently, like a ballerina in a music box. When you stop in your place, Frank gestures with his finger for you to spin the other way.
It’s almost voyeuristic, the way he’s devouring you with his stare. You feel like predator and prey, in the moonlight of your bedroom.
“Prettiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen.”
The lace hugs your body exactly, every dip and curve accentuated. The colour compliments your skin perfectly, and your mind is running a mile a minute wondering what Frank is going to do to you first.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Frankie.”
“You’re tellin’ me,” he chuckles. “Yes it is.”
He stands up finally, making his way over to you. You’re waiting for him to twist his fingers into the material and rip, like he usually does. Instead, he runs his fingertips over the lace trim on your chest, gentle and featherlight. He dances his touch down your sides and onto the top of your underwear, playing with the band softly.
“Want you to keep it on,” he murmurs. “Wanna see this lace against your skin when I eat you out.”
You exhale shakily, nodding your head.
“Plus,” he whispers, leaning down to mouth at your ear. “This pretty thing gives me something to hold onto. Better grip when I fuck you into the mattress.”
You drop your head forward onto his chest, bare skin warm against your forehead. You can feel the way his lungs are heaving, just as buzzed on the anticipation as you are.
“You’ve given me a gift, honey. Now let me give you one.”
He drops to his knees in front of you. You’ve never seen anything prettier.
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agirlcandream84 · 3 months
Text
How Frank Would Handle Making You.. ahem… Squirt
Listen, sometimes you get to thinking and then you simply HAVE to write the hottest Frank headcanon.
Word Count: 873
Frank Castle x Reader (written inclusively)
You had been at it for 45 mins, Frank already pulling 3 orgasms out of you and his cock still felt as hard as steel as he thrusted measured and deeply into your core
"Doing so good for me sweetheart. Just need you a little longer," he'd huff into your ear, his pace slowing slightly to sink himself deeper.
You felt the flush creep up your neck, your ears burning tomato red. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as the pressure built in your core. You had never come close to 3 orgasms, let alone 4, but you felt the familiar winding in your gut.
Despite Frank's praise, it all started to feel like too... much. The sweat beading at your brow. The hair stuck to your neck. The sheet bunched below your back. The everlasting sting and stretch of his cock. The deep punch punch punch as he he hit the spongey spot. Pleasure, yes, but too much of everything.
But you couldn't find words. You weren't sure you wanted anything to stop but the overstimulation had you panicky about the next orgasm, your heart racing as the tip of his cock nudged your wall so deeply that the air felt squeezed from your lungs.
"FFffrrannkie..." you stammer out, eyes squeezed so tight that tears fall out the corners.
"Fuck honey I know. I know baby," he says, grunting to give you to orgasm he thought you were whining for.
He changes pace to seat himself deeply against your slit, heavy balls slapping you, micro-thrusts of his cock so powerful that your vision goes black around the edges and your breath stalls in your lungs.
Your hand lands on his broad chest to stop his movements just as the orgasm tears through, making you squirt so forcefully that he pulls out instantly. Your back arches, eyes rolling back in your head as warm, clear liquid squirts in a steady stream from your pink walls. Your legs shake uncontrollably and tears stream down your cheeks.
"Fuck, honey. Shit, baby, you ok?," Frank is instantly attentive, guilt flooding him as he realizes he misread your cues. His only concern is you, his calloused hand landing feather-light on your cheek to swipe away the tears and gently push the hair from your face.
"Breathe for me sweetheart. Come on-- slow breath," he coos as one hand lands softly on your lower belly and the other on your quaking leg, trying to still your aftershocks.
Your heart rate slows and you can't help the hiccupped sob that bubbles up, covering your eyes with your forearm to hide the tears pouring out. Embarrassment burns through you. Shame at the mess you made in Frank's bed, the theatrics you put on. You had just been so overstimulated -- an impending orgasm had never felt so frightening before.
At the sound of your sob Frank scoops up your form to cradle you in his lap, I'm sorrys tumbling out of his mouth.
"Fuck honey I'm so sorry. Shoulda checked in with you better. I got caught up in the moment and I wasn't listenin'. Shit, baby, don't cry. You're ok. You're ok."
Through messy sobs you choke out "S'not your fault Frankie. I'm so embarrassed. I made such a mess"
You feel Frank pause, can practically hear his brows furrowing as he says, "Wait wait, hang on. Honey, none of this is your fault. You know that, don't you baby?"
You shake your head no and burrow it deeper into his chest. You couldn't bear looking at him after the show you'd just put on.
Gently, his hands pull you away from his chest but you avoid his eyes. "Sweetheart, you know that right? Need you to look at me baby"
You venture a quick glance to his face. His brows are furrowed and his eyes are scanning your features. You mumble out "I'm so embarrassed," before curling into his chest again, feeling like a blubbering, messy fool.
"Let's get something straight sweetheart," Franks starts, his words stern but his touch gentle. He rests his chin on your head as his hand makes slow, soft circles on your back. "I love every fuckin' part of your body and if i weren't so scared that I hurt you, I'd tell you how fuckin' gorgeous you looked taking me so well like that. You can make a mess in my bed anytime but we don't have to do that ever again if you don't want to. Ok?" and at his final word his finger hooked under your chin to lift your face to peer up at his.
You nod your head because you believe him and force out a soft "ok" in acknowledgement.
"Attagirl," he responds as he stands, your body still supported in his arms.
"Where are we going?" you ask quietly, your energy still zapped from the proceedings.
"First shower, then couch. I'm gonna clean you up and I'll order from the Bahn Mi place. But you gotta make me a promise sweetheart."
"What Frankie?' you respond tentatively.
"You're gonna let me take care you and get you cleaned up. No shame. No embarrassment. Understand?"
You nod yes against his chest as he carries you to the bathroom.
Ok I'm dead now bye.
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chelseasdagger · 4 months
Text
Teacher - Chapter III
Frank Castle x Inexperienced F!Reader
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Summary: Frank invites you to hang out with him at a bar on the outskirts of town. After some good food, and lots of teasing, you get invited back to his place to take care of the problem you caused him.
Warnings: age gap (reader is in her early 20s), mentions of drinking and smoking, cursing, grinding, detailed handjob sorry, slight praise kink
Author's Note: I am so incredibly sorry for how long it took for this chapter to come out!! I had a lot of life issues that delayed this, but I'm pretty happy with how this turned out so please accept this super long chapter as my apology/holiday gift!! And if you want to be added to the tag list just let me know. As always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :) Leave a comment or shoot me an ask!! I'd love to hear what you think!
Word Count: 9k
Previous Chapters: I, II
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“So I was thinkin’… Said you didn’t get many experiences even after high school, right?” Frank asks. His voice slightly muffled through the phone, which is wedged between your ear and your shoulder as you drag the spatula over the food you’re cooking on the stove. He had randomly rang you out of the blue and, after attempting to control your breathing, you answered the call. This was what he chose to greet you with and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t confused by the topic of conversation.
“Good morning to you too,” you tease, the food sizzling as you flip it in the pan. “But no, I haven’t. Why? What’s up?” you question.
“There’s this bar on the edge of town,” he begins his offer. “Little bit of a drive but they got good food,” he explains. 
“Tempting…” you trail off, trying not to immediately agree just because it’s Frank. “Who all is coming?”
“Just me,” he replies. “That alright?”
“Yeah!” Your answer is too loud and far too fast to be playing it cool. After cursing yourself mentally, you try again. “Yeah, I was just wondering if it was a whole… get-together thing.” Your voice grows quiet at the end, not wanting to plant the idea in his head that you’d prefer it if there were more people.
Honestly, you were surprised he was reaching out this soon after the bonfire. It was one of the best nights of your life. Whenever you think about it, there’s this warmth that rushes through you; you’re not sure if the heat was from the big flames or his strong chest you laid against all night.
“Nah, just me. Just thought it would be somethin’ you might like,” you push the spatula around in the teflon pan as he speaks. “Plus it’s another thing off the list, right?”
“Yeah, it is! Thanks, Frank,” you say cheerily as you turn the burner off and open the cupboards to grab two plates.
“No problem, kid. Just thought about you, y’know?” You sink your teeth in your lower lip to calm yourself down before another thought comes to mind.
“Oh! When are we going?”
“Tonight,” he answers nonchalantly and your eyes grow wide. “If you’re free.”
You seriously weren’t expecting him to want to see you only two days since you two were last together. In your head, Frank is so calm and collected and you’re practically certain that this… thing you two have going on isn’t as big of a deal to him as it is to you. Still, you try not to question too much why he actually seems to enjoy having you around. Instead, you decide to just take the good as it comes.
“I am, I can do tonight. But I’m not sure I have something to wear. Is it like a club? Should I dress up or is it more jeans and—?” You don’t even realize when your voice picks up in speed and the questions fly out faster than you intend for them to, but Frank is quick to center you out of the beginning of your spiral.
“Just wear somethin’ cute, alright? I’ve seen some of your outfits, sweetheart, you’ll be fine.” You bite the inside of your cheek at his comment and inhale deeply before sighing. “I’ll pick you up at six, okay?” You hum an agreement as he confirms the time and say a goodbye before hanging up.
As you pull the phone away from your ear, you see an incoming text from your best friend drop down from the top of the screen.
“I’m two minutes away! I can’t wait to hear everything.”
That night when you got home from the bonfire, she had sent many texts in hopes of finding out the reasoning behind the newfound closeness between you and Frank. In your exhausted and slightly inebriated state, you told her that you would have her over Saturday morning to explain it all to her. You were much too tired to string the words together and you also know how she can tend to put her own emotions onto words; the last thing you needed was for her to hear the little arrangement you and Frank have and blow it out of proportion.
You set the table as you wait for her, making sure to leave a mug beside her plate for her tea that tends to be the staple of her breakfast. By the time the food is divvied up for each of you, there’s an impatient knock at the door. You shake your head with a smile as you open the door and she’s pushing past you as the questions immediately begin to roll off her tongue.
After guiding her to the small dining table in the kitchen, you watch her sit down and her eyes never stray from you. Her voice continues to fill the air as she talks over herself; there’s no distinct end to one sentence and the beginning of the next. By the time you’re sitting beside her and about to dig into your meal she finally covers her mouth, stopping all the enthusiastic queries she desperately wants to know.
“I’m gonna let you talk,” she mumbles behind her palms. You laugh at her attempts to force herself to be quiet and pick up a forkful of your food.
“I promise you it’s not as exciting as you think it is,” you warn her before popping the food in your mouth.
You start at the beginning—trying to skim over the details of your not-so-controlled crush on Frank as well as the more heated parts of the things you two have done together. Excited gasps fill the space surrounding the dining table and you watch as her eyes go wide when you mention it was his idea. Her mouth gets the better of her though and she begins to ask more questions while you speak. You make sure to answer all of them in time, save for a few chuckles here and there, before finishing your last bite.
“I actually have a question for you now,” you start again, watching as confusion washes over her features. “Frank called me this morning and he wants to take me out to this bar he likes. I just don’t know what to wear and I was hoping… you could help me?” You hesitantly look up to face her and you’re met with a beaming grin.
“Is this a date?! Is this the first one? Are you going back to his place after?” You shake your head once again as the sudden influx of questions fill the air.
“No, it’s not a date. I mean… I don’t think it is?” you let your thought process be shown aloud and watch as her giddy expression comes back to the surface. “It’s not! We’re just friends and he’s doing me a favor. I’m sure of it.” You decide then and there that you can’t afford to hold out hope and expect more than what he’s given you—which is already so much.
She raises her eyebrows up from behind the rim of her mug and you scoff at her knowing look. You brush your hand through your hair and try your hardest to not let your anxiety creep in about the idea of being on a proper date with Frank Castle.
And so together the two of you spend the afternoon diving through your closet together for something that could fit. It felt similar to a movie montage where the teenage girls toss different colorful fabrics through the air. With a growing pile on the floor of your bedroom, she gasps once you stand in the completed outfit.
“That’s the one!” she says excitedly before tugging you towards the bathroom. “Time for makeup!” She eagerly pats for you to sit on the counter while searching through your, admittedly limited, makeup bag. Doing the best with what she’s got, she gets to work on the eyeshadows and blush, finishing up with a curl of your eyelashes and combing mascara through them. You always loved how focused she got when it was time for something special; her tongue pokes past her lips as she concentrates, her eyes squinting to get the very last detail to sit right.
Once she’s satisfied, she spins you around to see yourself in the mirror and you’re actually surprised at how nice it all came together. You’re wearing an oversized, comfy jumper, tights that line your legs, and a black skirt that accentuates your frame. It’s not too fancy, but the black tights make your outfit more sleek and you silently hope that Frank will like it. As you fluff your hair up to give it some more volume, you thank her behind a wide smile.
A buzz of excitement rushes through you as you wait by the front door and hear the heavy revving from the engine of Frank’s van. You physically shake your arms in an attempt to let go of some of the nerves that built up and your friend gives you a quick hug.
“You got it, baby!” she encourages sweetly. “Have fun!” she calls out as you slip past the door. Making your way down your porch steps, you hear her shout something else from behind you. “Don’t do anything stupid!”
You chuckle at her warnings and make your way to the big, black van. You open the door and find Frank sitting with his elbow on his armrest and his head in his palm as he turns to face you. You stand there for a moment and await his initial reaction to your outfit. His eyes widen slightly before they rake over your boy, his lips parting as he takes it all in.
He brushes his thumb along the defined line of his jaw before sinking his teeth into his lower lip. His eyes settle on the small slit of the skirt that rests high on your thigh. There’s a pause for a moment before he finally speaks up.
“Told you you’d find somethin’ cute.” He fixes his posture and gives you a smile as you roll your eyes and sit in the passenger seat. Being with him felt easy now—of course there’s still the butterflies, which you’re expecting to make a permanent home in your stomach any day now, but it’s mostly when you’re about to see him. When you’re actually in his presence, it all fades away and you love how comfortable he makes you feel.
If you had told yourself a few weeks ago that you’d be on a half hour car ride with Frank Castle to the outskirts of town, she probably would’ve brushed it off as some sick joke. But here you are, sitting beside him and watching as he flips through radio stations until he settles on a classic rock song. You enjoyed getting to discover little pieces of him the more time you spent with him.
As he drives under the lamp posts longing the winding roads, you watch as the passing lights illuminate his face before it’s cloaked in shadows of the night once again. Each time you move underneath them, light showcases his features in a warm glow for mere moments at a time. You think your new favorite thing might be when the gleam seeps into the small dip in the bridge of his nose. That small highlight makes you smile and he catches it as he turns to look at you once you’re stopped at a red light.
“What is it?” he questions, his eyes squinting slightly as he looks at you. With a shake of your head, you face back to the light strung up in the air. His gaze doesn’t leave the side of your face though, and you know he’ll want an answer.
“This is just nice,” you shrug your shoulders. “Thank you for thinking of me,” you add. You want to make sure he knew how happy you were to be doing this, despite your quiet nature due to your fear of somehow screwing this up with your words.
“Haven’t even done anything,” he laughs softly.
“Well, I’m still enjoying myself,” you reply in a gentle tone. Frank doesn’t say anything more as he continues to look at you. The light changes and a green glow washes over your face, queuing him to face the open road once again. You glance down as his hand moves to the gear shift, trying not to focus too long on how the veins in his hand are accentuated as he curls his fingers around the knob.
Frank speaks up again after a moment and you quickly recenter your attention. He engages you in some light conversation and pretty soon you’re laughing along to his comedic storytelling. You don’t even realize you’ve arrived until he’s put the car in park and turns the key off in the ignition. Looking out from behind the glass in front of you, you see the neon lights surrounding the big, bold letters of the name of the bar. It shines brightly in the night sky and acts as a small beacon in the dark parking lot.
You look up at the sound of the driver side door closing and realize Frank has left the car. You reach for your bag that’s resting on the floor between your feet and by the time you move for the handle, he’s opening your door for you. It’s the first time you’re able to truly take him in. He’s wearing a pair of nicely fitting blue jeans and a grey jacket, complete with the black boots you’ve never seen him without. You can’t tell what he’s wearing under the thick material that conceals his chest though, and you find yourself hoping it’s something tighter and hugs his torso.
“You ready?” he asks, and you nod in response. “Alright, watch your step,” he warns and you feel his hand bracing your upper arm as you hop out from the slightly lifted van. Once you’re secure on the ground, the two of you begin making your way towards the entrance. As you pass by the cars parked in organized rows under dim lamplights, you begin to make out the few scattered people smoking and even spot a couple sharing a cigarette just outside the main doors.
Once inside the building, he shrugs off the jacket and you can finally piece together his outfit. Frank’s broad shoulders stretch the fabric of the dark blue button up shirt. It’s tucked into his denim pants and secured with a black belt. He fits the attire of everyone else here in the bar, but still stands over a head taller than the rest—not to mention infinitely more attractive. You try desperately to rip your eyes away from him, and in doing so, take in the scenery of the pub.
The bar is crowded but not so occupied that you can’t move. The loud, overlapping voices meld to create a soft droning that accompanies the background. It doesn’t stand a chance to the band though, whose loud amplifiers cause a shake in your chest with each note they strum. Polished wood lines the walls and there’s photographs of smiling people decorating them, forever cherished behind glass frames. It feels oddly homey, admittedly impressive for a place you’ve never stepped foot into before tonight.
You accidentally bump into Frank and he steadies you with his large hands on your waist. He’s staring down at you with a subtle smile on his face. He begins to talk but you don’t have the slightest clue what he’s saying; the song that’s playing is far too loud to hear the lower tone of his voice. Shaking your head with a frown, you let him know you can’t understand him and his smile grows wider. He then leans down, his fingers brushing your hair away from your ear before he speaks.
“Asked if you wanted to eat,” he starts, his breath immediately warming the side of your neck. With just those few words, it feels like all the other noise falls away. All you can focus on is the rumble in his voice and how the words feel as if they dance down your spine. “I’m starving,” he adds, and you’re certain your new headspace gave his words a different context than he intended.
He pulls away for your response and all you can muster up is a slow blink and a delayed nod. There’s no cocky smirk at your expression and you wonder if maybe he decided to spare you the embarrassment this time. He promptly turns and you fall in line beside him, letting him guide you around the crowd. His palm finds its way to your lower back as he leads you and just like that, your heart picks up in pace once more.
You’ve only seen the same small movement depicted in movies and you can now safely say that experiencing it is so much more exhilarating. Part of you is frustrated that such an insignificant touch can make you this excited, but Frank’s charm has a tremendous effect on you. Still, you tell yourself it’s the anticipation of his hand being elsewhere on your body that riles you up.
His hand stays put until the two of you reach a booth lining the back wall. There’s a small lamp that bathes the whole table in a warm glow and you and Frank place your things down before sliding into the long seats. As you stare at him from across the table, you watch as his eyes scan the crowd and then the main stage as he focuses on the band. They’re currently playing a cover of a classic rock song and Frank smiles as he nods his head to the music.
“This place is nice,” you raise your voice slightly to be heard over the music. He turns to face you and his smile grows wider.
“Yeah? You like it?” His question is accompanied by your own nod and he continues. “I’m sure there’s fancier ones close to town, but I’ve been coming here for years and they’ve always been good.”
He raises his hand in the air, tilting his head up and leaning to the side as if to catch someone’s attention. You follow his line of sight and look over your shoulder to see a woman with a black apron tied around her waist. She looks slightly past you as a grin covers her face and walks over to your table quicker than you expected.
“Frank?! What are you doing here?” Her voice is already grating and she’s only said a handful of words. Her tone is drawn out, almost flirtatiously, and she stands closer to him than you would’ve liked.
“Just showing her around,” he answers simply. He looks at you and when the waitress does the same, her face falls. You muster up an awkward smile and try to shake off the weird look she gives you. “She’s never been here before, you think we could get some menus?”
“Sure thing,” she mumbles, stepping away only to return a moment later with two long, laminated sheets of paper. She drops them to the table and you spare yourself the trouble of looking at her again.
“She sure seems to like you,” you speak up once she’s left. Frank scoffs before grabbing a menu and shaking his head. “Did you see the way she looked at me? What did I do?” You ask with a frown, wondering if you did something unintentionally.
“She’s probably just pissed cause you’re sitting with me and she’s not,” he answers with a sigh. He flips the paper around and you notice the way his eyes dart around the page. His answer wasn’t very reassuring though, and you still feel the tension in your body. As you scan the small print of the menu in your hands, you can feel his gaze on you. You try to shake the disappointment and to make it less obvious that what she said affected you, but you’re not certain how good of an actress you are.
“Y’know what?” he speaks up after a few seconds. You raise your face to him as he continues, “I know this place a couple of blocks down? Best god damn beer I’ve had.” His hand disappears under the table and a moment later you see his fingers curled around his jacket. “It’s German! You haven’t tried that one before.” He leans across the table before whispering, “You’re gonna hate it.”
His attempts at distracting you work well and you can’t help the laughter escaping you at the final thing he said. Frank’s own crooked smile returns at your reaction and a softness settles into his brown eyes.
“There she is,” he mumbles once he sees your regular self bubble back up to the surface. You bring in a deep breath and choose to shake off any residual awkwardness you felt from before.
“No, no it’s okay. We can stay here.” You finish your sentence and look back towards the music before facing him. His hands are empty now as he continues to stare at you and you feel confident in your choice to stay.
After looking over the endless list of drinks, burgers, and other appetizers, you read a description of a sandwich that makes your stomach rumble to life. You immediately decide on it without a second thought and smile up at Frank, watching him run his finger across the page between two options and looking quite indecisive.
Before long, the ill behaved waitress is back to take down your order. You pick your sandwich, remembering to take off the toppings you aren’t too fond of, add in an order of fries, and your usual favorite drink to top it off. With a hesitant glance up, you see her scribbling down your order on the small notepad in her hand. Her expression is twisted up as if she smelled something foul and you feel that uneasy feeling settling in once more.
“I’ll have the same as my date here,” Frank answers before she can ask about his meal. He gently taps the two menus on the tabletop before handing them over to her. His lips part as his eyes drag over your features and you notice the way they stop for a little longer than they should when they reach your mouth.
To say you were shocked was an understatement. You weren’t sure if he said it just to get under her skin or not but part of you didn’t really care. He said it regardless and that made a smile carve its way onto your face. An annoyed scoff is heard from above and you see a hand come into view to snatch the menus away from Frank. He never looked away from you once.
The moment the food arrives, you’re excitedly grabbing your sandwich and lifting it to your mouth. As your teeth sink into the toasted bread, the flavor hits your tongue and a satisfied moan escapes you. Frank is quick to lift his eyes at the sound, his eyebrows raising as he takes in the scene in front of him. You raise your hand to your mouth and begin to grow bashful at the look on his face.
“Sorry!” You apologize, your voice muffled behind your palm. “It was just really good,” you explain once you swallow your food down.
“Don’t gotta apologize for that, kid,” he replies through his own raspy chuckle. You bite your lip and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before reaching for the fries in your basket next.
The two of you dig into your identical meals and make some easy conversation in between bites here and there. You’re honestly impressed with how good the sandwich is and you’re glad you picked it out of the infinite number of items on the menu. Frank wasn’t lying when he said he loved this place. You watch him look up from his meal every now and then with a big smile on his face as he moves his head to the beat of the music. His energy was infectious and you found yourself tapping your toes along too. 
“Y’know,” he speaks up after finishing the last bite of his sandwich. At the sound of his voice, you begin to look up to his face, but your eyes latch on to something else. Frank sucks his fingers clean of the salt from his fries, his lips pursing as his cheeks hollow, and you immediately lose any grip you had on controlling your thoughts around him.
“When we ordered I saw your beer on the menu.” You hear his words but they have absolutely no meaning, no way of stringing them together to make a continuous thought as you watch him suck the seasonings from his thumb. You begin to feel a sense of injustice at the fact that those fingers weren’t where you desperately wanted them to be. With a pout, you look back to his gaze and see the confusion clear in his eyes.
“What?” you blurt out, finally remembering he had spoken and that you hadn’t processed anything he had said. He scoffs before shaking his head, his smirk spreading wide across his face before he speaks again.
“Said they have the beer you like here,” he repeats himself, his cocky grin a clear indicator that he saw how you froze up at sight just moments ago.
“I’m actually good tonight,” you say confidently. Reaching for your glass, you take a sip of your drink and hold his gaze as you stare at him from under your eyelashes. He sits back against the cushion of the booth and his eyebrows pull together as he thinks about what you said.
“Yeah?” he asks, squinting his eyes at you.
“Mhm, not letting a few beers stop me from what I wanna do after this,” you explain. You’ve never felt more frustrated than when he stopped you from kissing on his neck. You understood why he did it, and are actually very thankful he didn’t want it to go further, but the disappointment coursed through you all the same.
“Hmm? And what exactly is that?” he questions as the band finishes up the song they had been playing. Your eyes follow the noise as the crowd erupts into whistles and claps, applauding the musicians. When you finally look back over, Frank’s in the same position. It’s like he never looked away from you—hell, you’re not sure if he even blinked.
You don’t answer him though and make up your mind to keep him on the edge of his seat. Instead, you smile sweetly before picking up a fry from your basket and popping it past your lips. 
He gives you a knowing look, but doesn’t pry. Perhaps he was looking forward to the surprise of it all. You only hope you can remain as confident as you feel now so you can properly act out your plan. Before long, he swallows down his last french fry and Frank speaks up with a question.
“You wanna go dance?” Your whole body freezes at the mere thought of attempting to dance, not to mention the added nerves of doing it in a crowded room with Frank Castle standing witness. But as you look out onto the dance floor full of moving bodies, you realize most of them are probably far too intoxicated to really pay attention to you. Deciding to push past the initial fear, and wanting to be fully present with him and have fun, you nod and scoot out of the booth.
Frank stands in front of you and his hand soon comes into view of your eyeline. You place your hand in his and feel his fingers curl around your palm as you brace your weight on him and rise to your feet. You stand on your toes and motion for him to come closer so you can speak into his ear.
“Just so you know, I’m a terrible dancer,” you say after he’s tilted his head towards you.
“What part of me screams that I’m a good one?” he asks, and you chuckle at his joke. He smiles down at your laughter and nods his head behind him, letting you know he’s going to the dancefloor.
Frank keeps a hold of your hand as he leads you through the crowd. His broad body splits the sea of bodies as he walks and you follow close enough behind him to squeeze past them as well. There’s blue hues from the dim lights that shine over the people, but other than that you can’t see much beside their moving feet. He must’ve gotten to a clearing where there’s not as many people bumping into one another, because he stops walking and turns to you.
You’re sort of frozen still for a moment as the reality of it is beginning to creep in. But then Frank starts to shimmy his shoulders and you can’t help but break into a wide grin. Just like that, you’re thawed. The awkwardness you felt is starting to leave you as you begin to loosen up in front of him.
The band plays a fun, upbeat song that you don’t recognize, but he seems to be making the moves up as he goes along. You follow his direction, copying him but still keep some distance, trying to slowly shake off those nerves that are still lingering around. Suddenly, Frank does a move that you can’t even begin to describe with words alone and you burst into laughter as you watch him. Holding your stomach, you shake your head at him and he begins to laugh too. 
The band then retires from the stage, saying their farewells as the crowd applauds and whistles. Frank claps along with the rest of them and you cup your hands around your mouth to give a small cheer. You really enjoyed their set and wouldn’t mind coming back here again to watch them play once more.
Once the stage is clear, music begins to play over the speakers and Frank’s face lights up. His excitement is clear after just the first few notes.
“God, this takes me back,” his wide grin causes his eyes to squint up. You smile up at him, happy at his enjoyment, but you can’t help your head from tilting to the side confusedly.
“You haven’t heard this before?” he asks incredulously and you shake your head. “It’s literally my favorite song, how do you not know this?”
“When did it come out?” you ask, and watch him look up as he starts to think.
“Must’ve been… right after graduation, I think?” He does the math for a moment longer before answering with the year it was released. The answer has you fighting back a giggle as you stare at him awkwardly.
“Frank, I wasn’t born until two years later,” you answer honestly, and the look on his face is priceless.
“Jesus Christ…” he replies, dragging his hand down his face. You begin to worry now, wondering if you shouldn’t have brought up that point. He must’ve caught a glance at your anxious frown because he’s quick to explain himself.
“You’re fine just… my back hurt when you said that.” His hand comes to the back of his neck to emphasize his point and your smile finds its way back to your lips.
Despite the initial embarrassment you ran into after being reminded again of the gap in age between you and Frank, you found yourself really enjoying the song. He was honest when he said it was one of his favorites. You’ve never seen him this lively before and you love being able to soak up every minute of it. He’s so animated as he dances, holding you close to him with his hand secured at your back. The lines to the song fall past his lips like muscle memory as his forehead presses to yours.
You can’t stand being this close to him. Your whole body feels like it’s been shot with a current of electricity and you’re desperately wanting him to stop singing and put his mouth to yours. He might have a sixth sense—or simply just picked up on the timing—because his lips are on yours a second later. He kisses you deeply, his tongue brushing your lower lip for a moment before you eagerly let him in. Your head tilts to the side as you kiss him back and your arm wraps around his wide shoulders to ensure you’ll have your fill.
All too soon he’s breaking the kiss and you immediately suck your bottom lip behind your teeth to savor the feeling of him. He suddenly lifts his arm into the air and cues you to spin. You twirl under his hand with a huge grin and then he yanks you in for the finish, timing it so that your back is to his chest when you land against him. His same palm immediately finds your hip and tightens to keep you flush to him. His opposite hand travels down the length of your torso, his index finger tracing your side as he moves.
He begins to whisper the lyrics against your ear and you can’t bring yourself to focus on their meaning. He’s all over you and it’s making you feel dizzy, as if you’re drunk on his scent alone. Each pass of his finger along your ribs alights a fire at your side and you try to keep up as he begins rocking you from side to side to the rhythm of the song. His breath warms the entire side of your face and neck with each word he whispers. You fall under his spell and roll your head to the side at the feeling of his warmth all over.
When the song starts to fade and a new one begins overlapping it, you’re left with a bittersweet feeling; part of you never wanted to leave that moment and would gladly listen to that song on loop for the rest of your life, but the other half of you was almost frightened at how easily you turned to putty in his hands. You felt the need to have a better grasp on yourself, especially if you wanted to stay courageous for what you had planned for tonight.
The mix of two songs smoothen down into one and you instantly recognize the slow, sexy bassline that’s pumping through the speakers overhead. You’re not sure what came over you. Perhaps you wanted to prove to someone that you’re not that same timid, little girl. Whatever it was that coursed through your veins, you’re thankful that it gave you the strength to grab his large palm and put it back into place at your hip. You use the extra support to push your ass back into him, making sure to press hard enough until you feel the bulge in his jeans.
Frank doesn’t show any reaction except for his fingers tightening into your skin as if you were a lifeline. You smile as you continue to grind into him, your hips following the similar movements he taught you just a few days prior. Facing away from him gives you the extra boost of confidence needed to perform this act, but you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t kill to see the look on his face right now.
With each push of your ass against the denim fabric, you feel the heat of his bulge so close to where your own warmth had started to pool. This felt good and you felt pride surging through your chest once you realized exactly what you were doing.
And then his arm crosses your chest and pulls you flat against him once more. His forearm is pressed against your collarbones and you feel your breath hitch at the hold he has you in. With a shaky inhale, you swallow down the lump in your throat and wait for him to speak.
“Look at you, sweetheart,” the tip of his nose brushes the curve of your ear and you try your damndest to not let your body double over. “Someone’s getting confident, huh?” His arm begins to slowly drop from across your chest, and instead reaches your lower stomach. From there, he applies pressure until you’re as close as you could be to him.
“You feel that? Hmm?” There’s an undeniable hardness under the thick layers of fabric. It doesn't feel as big as the last time he got turned on from you, but it’s still noticeable. “That’s all you,” he finishes with a lower tone of voice before taking half a step back and leaving you to sit with his words.
It takes you a moment to wrap your head around this entire situation. It’s abundantly clear that the mood has changed from light laughter and awful dance moves to something more sultry. You can feel the warmth slowly spreading between your legs and it leaves you with a buzz that makes you feel like your movements are slowed. When you turn around to finally face him, he’s already staring down at you expectedly.
“Why don’t we get outta here?” he asks, deep voice blending in with the booming bass. You nod at him and it feels like you’re moving in molasses. The dull, blue light from above catches his face for a moment. There’s something deeper to his unreadable expression; his jaw is clenched as if he’s trying to hold something back.
Once the two of you make it back to the table, Frank reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. He thumbs through the notes before tossing a few bills onto the table. He reaches into the booth seat for his jacket and shakes it out before draping it over your shoulders.
“Thank you,” you mumble in a quiet voice.
“Don’t gotta thank me for that, sweetheart,” he shakes his head, insisting that your gratitude isn’t needed. He begins to walk towards the door with his hand in its designated spot at your lower back to help guide you once again. The chill of the night air hits you the second you step out of the building and you find yourself curling his jacket snugger around your body. His scent is stuck to the collar and it helps lessen your shivering from the cold breeze.
He walks you to your side of the van and opens the door for you to climb in. Even after he gets in and begins driving down the same winding roads, there’s not much conversation between the two of you. The tension in the car is thick and incredibly palpable. You’re indecisive about whether to break the silence or leave it untouched so as to not make it worse.
Eventually Frank pulls into his parking spot that faces the front door of his apartment. After putting the van in park and walking around to open your door once more, you take his hand and carefully step down. He unlocks the door and gets you inside quickly, trying to shield you from the chilly air. Once he flicks the lights on, you’re greeted by the familiar sight of his living room and feel that desire to touch him creep back in. Your name falls from his lips and you turn your head at the sound.
“I’m sorry if I went too far back there. I shouldn’t have—,” he begins to apologize, but you’re quick to interrupt by pressing your lips to his. A surprised grunt comes from him and you smirk into the kiss, pleased to have caught him off guard. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around you and begins leading you towards the couch. When you feel the back of your knees hit the curve of the cushion, you angle yourself in front of Frank and push him into the sofa below.
He looks up at you with his lips parted and his chest is noticeably bringing in deeper breaths each time he inhales. His usually soft, brown eyes have a darkened glint to them and you’re certain you’ve never seen this emotion on him before. Your pulse is racing through your own body and you swiftly straddle him with your knees on either side of his hips.
His impatient fingers grab hold of you in a way no one ever has before. The action causes a surprised gasp to fall past your lips, but it’s swallowed down by Frank who can’t seem to keep his mouth off of yours. The light stubble decorating his jaw scratches at your skin and the rough feeling does nothing but spur you on further. You begin to roll your hips into his as you fall into a familiar pattern and he uses his hold to help guide you into moving faster.
His movements are rushed and needy and it makes you feel reassured that he wants this—he wants you. That little boost to your ego has your hands tracing down his body, your palms rubbing down his strong chest, before finally reaching his belt. Your fingers search blindly for the leather and the sound of the buckle clinking sounds out in between the wet noises of your kisses.
“Woah, easy,” Frank breaks the kiss the second the sound reaches his ears. “Let’s just, uh…” he trails off and you feel his fingers gently prying yours away. “Let’s take it slow, alright?” His tone is so soft and the concern is written clearly across his features.
“Frank, please,” you try to reason with him. “I didn’t even drink tonight! And I just… last time I was all worked up and I really want to do this.” You finish with a pout as you glance up at him with pleading eyes. He swallows hard as he stares at you for a moment, probably battling something internally.
“What do you wanna do?” he asks slowly, trying to make his words clear. The question is so simple but admitting it to him makes you feel small again.
“I… I want to touch you,” you mumble, silently hoping he doesn’t ask you to be more explicit than that.
“You sure you want this?” His eyes never leave yours as he confirms your consent.
“I really do,” you reply, bringing your hand up and cupping his cheek. You brush your thumb over his skin and watch as he begins to shut his eyes and breathe deeply. “Please?”
You’re not sure if it’s the quiet plea, his own craving that’s swaying his decision, or some combination of the two, but he slowly uncurls his fingers from your wrist. You beam brightly at him and whisper a thanks as you peck him on the cheek.
“You’re still gonna have to walk me through it, Frank,” you say through a small chuckle.
He nods with an equally quiet, “I know.”
From there, he doesn’t try to deter your movements any longer. He lets you continue as you slide his belt past the metal buckle. You look up at him for reassurance and he nods his head with a smile. He takes your hand in his and pulls it to his bulge, letting you feel it properly for the first time. Excitement races through you and settles in your lower stomach as you watch your hand touch him over the denim.
“Can I take your jeans off?” Your question is met with another nod as he lets go of you. Slipping the button past the slit, you then lower the zipper past the teeth and the sound feels so loud in the otherwise silent room. You move to sit beside him and Frank helps you tug his pants down, raising his hips to lower them some more until they fall past his knees. He’s wearing a pair of dark grey boxer briefs and your eyes linger far too long on how they hug his thighs.
The thick outline stretching the fabric is enough to recenter your attention though. You start to feel the nerves coming back once you register just how big he is as he lies against his hip. You always had a feeling, given the sheer size of the man, but seeing it is a whole other experience. Thankfully, Frank doesn’t rush you as he lets you take this all in. You hesitantly move your hand over the length of him, brushing your fingers over the defined line underneath the head of his cock.
The next thing you reach for is the waistband of his boxers. You curl your fingers over the edge and tug them down, watching as more and more of his happy trail becomes exposed. He once again helps you pull them past his legs and now that he’s bare in front of you, you can’t help your eyes from widening. You had thought the bulge was big, but it was misleading; Frank is actually much larger than you had anticipated.
“What? You’ve never seen—?” He starts but you’re quick to cut him off.
“I have. I’ve seen, like, porn before but…” you find your voice leaving you as you stare between his legs. “It’s just bigger in person.” His chuckle sounds out and you raise your head to the noise only to be met by an amused smirk at your confession.
“S’not just cause it’s in person, kid,” he laughs through his words and you roll your eyes at his cockiness. You like that you can still crack jokes during a time like this and you find yourself thankful that you get to have Frank as your first introduction to sex. Feeling more relaxed, you reach forward and gently curl your fingers around his thick base.
“You can hold it tighter than that,” he speaks up after a second.
“I know,” you respond, tightening your hold on him a little more. He snorts lightly at the, apparently, subtle increase in pressure and you feel his larger hand curling around your own. His long fingers squeeze over yours, adjusting your grip on his length as he begins to move your hand up and down. He’s warm and heavy in your hand, two things you hadn’t given much thought of before now. Frank lifts your hand once more and a satisfied sigh leaves him.
The sound stirs something in your stomach and you try to swallow down your own growing arousal at the noise he’s making. He loosens his hold on you and you watch as his hands find the hem of his shirt before bunching it up and exposing the lower half of his stomach. There’s so much to look at and it’s pulling your attention in too many ways. You try to focus on him in your hand though and begin speeding up your movements.
“You can spit on it,” he speaks up after a few seconds. You turn to face him and feel your eyebrows pull together at his words.
“Like just… spit on it?” The confusion is more than likely obvious in your tone but you want to ensure that you don’t embarrass yourself with him. Not now when you’ve made it this far.
“Yeah, go for it,” he encourages gently. With one last glance at him, you lean forward and lower your head over his length. You purse your lips and part them as you let the split slowly drip until it’s sliding over his head. You watch as it runs down past the tip and Frank clears his throat.
“Shit, yeah that…” he trails off as he raises his hips slightly. “That works too.” You smile at his words and wonder if his movement was an instinctual reaction to the warmth running along the smooth skin of his cock.
With the help of the extra slick added to his length, you begin to work your hand faster on him. You know from what you’ve heard that the tip is more sensitive, so you raise your hand right underneath his head and tighten your grip. A grunt immediately falls from him and you impulsively let go of him. You face him with a worried expression and watch as he brings in a deep breath before swallowing thickly.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Just felt real damn good.” The praise in his words immediately rushes to your heart and you feel yourself swell with pride. You can’t believe you made him feel that good, but now you’re determined to see what other sounds you can pull from his pretty lips. As you focus your attention back to his cock, you see a few beads of precum beginning to bubble up at his swollen tip. You rub your thumb in circles over the slit, spreading around the proof of his pleasure, and you feel him twitch in your hold.
“Shiiiiiit,” the drawn out curse sounds raspy and you don’t stop your movements as you check once again to see his reaction. Frank’s head is tilted back slightly against the couch cushion, his mouth is parted, and his eyes are scrunched up slightly. You try your hardest to memorize this version of him. You wish you could ingrain this memory so you’ll never forget how good he looks when he’s succumbing to his pleasure.
Twisting your hand as you move it over his length, you notice the way his adam's apple bobs as he swallows down presumably another groan. You can’t resist the urge to feel even more of him, and press your lips against his neck. Lazy kisses are littered across his skin while you work your hand faster, intermittently tightening your hold on his thickness. His throat tightens as he feels the wet marks of your affection, and the next thing you feel is his fingers tangling in your hair. He pulls gently as he tugs your head up to his and he kisses down your surprised gasp, his tongue slipping into your mouth.
You’re having trouble keeping up with his movements and you realize this must be what it’s like to be kissed breathlessly. Any moment you get, you’re greedily gulping down air before he continues his ravenous attack on your lips. You never slow the speed of your hand and press yourself against his side, trying to feel more of him to satiate your need. Frank tries to break the kiss but you push against him harder, not wanting to let go for a second. But he tries again, grabbing your wrist gently and you immediately pull away with a frown.
“What did I do?” you ask in a worried tone. He’s quick to lock his eyes with yours and speaks clearly.
“You’re okay. You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” he starts, and then nods down towards his lap. “I’m almost there, kid. Just wanted to warn you before it happens.” And just like that, a wide grin splits across your face. I’m making him feel that good?!
“I really wanna make you come, Frank,” you tell him honestly and you notice his cock twitch slightly as he registers your words.
“You keep talking like that and you will,” he grumbles in a low voice. His tone almost seems as if it was meant as a warning, but all it does is add to the fire in the pit of your stomach. You’re quick to reach for him again and fall back into the rhythm you established just seconds ago. With each pass of your hand you feel the veins protruding slightly through his skin and make sure to add slightly more pressure to the ring underneath his tip—he seemed to like that in particular.
“Just like that—fuck, attagirl,” he breathes through gritted teeth while he stares down at your smaller fingers wrapped snugly around him. The praise courses through you and you hide your face in his neck. You place sloppy kisses under his jaw and listen as more grunts start to fall from his parted lips. They slowly twist into a new sound and it takes you a second to realize it’s your name that’s coming out in a twisted groan. You glance down and watch as he raises his hips for a moment to chase after the feeling of you, his orgasm following soon after.
One long moan falls from him as warmth spills over your hands. You make sure not to miss a single second and don’t dare slow down or pull away. You want Frank to feel as good as possible and so you’ll drag this out for as long as you can. White begins to coat his head and the rest of his length as you continue moving over him. It isn’t until he reaches for your wrist that you take notice of the way his thigh is tense and you let go to give him some relief.
“T…That’s enough,” he pants as he speaks through uneven breathing. You mumble an apology as you snuggle into his side again, leaving the remainder of your kisses on his collarbone. His hand rubs at your back while he regains his breath and you feel him press his lips to your forehead. 
“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, and you follow his gaze to the mess in his lap. His cock lies on his hip, all spent and giving a weak twitch once or twice. You don’t even try to hide the smile that grows on your face at the sight.
“Oh, you proud of yourself, huh?” he asks through a fit of chuckles. “You should be,” he holds you to his side again. “Did so fuckin’ good.” You feel another long kiss to the side of your head. Pride isn’t even a strong enough word to describe how you feel at this moment.
“Thank you, Frank,” you smile up at him.
“Thank me? Nah, you did all that,” he brushes it off just like last time. “Thank you for making me feel good, kid. You were absolutely perfect.” The warmth spreading to your cheeks makes you hide your face in his chest again. You weren’t really sure how a scene like this was supposed to normally end, but Frank doesn’t say anything more. He keeps you close in his arms and you can still hear his pulse attempting to slow in his chest. For now, you don’t want to question what comes next; for once, you’re comfortable exactly where you are.
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Taglist: @chellestrash @avengerstower-houseplant @musicals-and-mermaids @castle-of-ruin @justalittlepickle @boo8008 @doublevirgogirl @xxdrixx @yaminax @nabiiturner @imwaytoolazyforthis @vechkinfan @himesuedi @0-goblin-0 @soleilcastle @innebulae @punishersmainchick @eddiemunsonsbelover @tea-drinking-nerd
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strawhbrrries · 6 months
Note
domestic frank seeing his girl after she’s just come back from a girls night out and she’s a little tipsy and giggly rambling about how much she loves him and how happy she is with him whilst he’s trying to help her get ready for bed :’)
screaming and crying and throwing up, im so glad someone else had these thoughts <3 lots of sweet frankie under the cut!!!!
You weren’t sure who called him or when he showed up, but god he smelled good. He big, strong arms supporting about ninety percent of your weight as he walked the two of you from the car and into the house.
“Frankie!! You smell so good.” Your words were soon followed by a hiccup and some other things neither of you could quite understand.
“C’mon baby, in the house.” Is all he responded, lifting you up the stairs of the porch and avoiding any falling that may have occurred if he let you climb them yourself.
He took your purse and any other accessory he could find and set it on the kitchen counter, grabbing a glass of water and a small snack to help counter, what he was sure was, an empty stomach.
“Missed you so much.” You slurred, clumsily taking off your shoes and smiling up at him proudly when you didn’t fall in the process.
“I missed you too, come drink this water for me, okay?” Frank motioned for you to come over, the space between you and the island counter wasn’t that far so he trusted you enough to make it over there.
“M’kay.”
He stood there and watched you drink the entire glass and eat the entire snack he set out, making sure you swallowed it all and didn’t choke, he felt like a father. He loved you too much to risk you choking on a fucking cracker because you forgot how to swallow, in your inebriated state.
When he had gotten the phone call from you about how much you loved him and how glad you were to have him, he knew it was time to pick you up. He knew how much you loved girls night but at some point, your old man, had enough and wanted you back.
“Let’s go get changed for bed, you need to take your meds too.” He grabbed your hand softly and led you to the bedroom, yet again supporting most of your weight but he didn’t mind.
“Can we have sex?” You blurted out, slapping your hand over your mouth and bursting into a fit of giggles. “That was supposed to stay in my head.”
He smiled softly at you and sat you down on the bed, placing a kiss on your forehead before changing you into your pajamas for the night. He disappears momentarily before coming back with a paper cup of water and your nightly meds, taking the cup away once you had taken the meds.
“C’mere funny girl, let’s rest.” He climbed into the bed and pulled you into his chest, rubbing your arm softly as a way to coax you into sleeping.
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bianquitasunderworld · 6 months
Note
I’m obsessedddd with the idea of sub!frank. Like that man was a soldier and he follows karen like a lost puppy. Maybe not all the time, but yk that man likes to be told what to do
Submissive Solider
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Warnings: smut, talks of sex.
Parings: Frank Castle x Reader
A/N: This is more of a thought/blurb? Omg I’m sorry I got carried away, this man just does things to me. Also does anyone know how you get one of these thin border/divider things, i’ve been looking for one in pink and I just can’t find one. ⬇️ 😭
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This man absolutely follows his partner around like a lost puppy everywhere, everywhere.
Don’t get me wrong, Frank loves being dominant, loves taking control of you, mind and body, but there are days where he just needs to take a break, days where he doesn’t want to think for himself.
On those days he starts arguments, and has an attitude until you decide you’ve had it with his behavior, with him. Some days Frank puts up a fight, he’ll be bratty, he’s giving you lip until you fight him into submission which is difficult. But on those days where he just gives in. No arguments, no talking back. Those are the days where you know he’s having a really rough time.
Frank is willingly to do anything on those days, he’ll listen and do as told, he’ll beg. He’ll get on his knees while looking up at you, kissing your thighs, pleading for even just a look at your chest or under your skirt.
He’s so shameless when he’s in a submissive headspace, he loves doing anything in his power to please you. Frank adores your whimpers, moans and whines, any noises that escape your lips from his doing is music to his ears.
Now I don’t think he’s the type to call you mommy in bed…but there has definitely been times where the word is on the tip of his tongue. There has been times where you just make him feel soo good and he just wants to groan ‘Mommy.’
I feel like he’s definitely more of the ma’am type, I don know if he’d be the type to say any other titles than Mommy and Ma’am.
One night though, one night when Frank is so tired, so, so tired and just needs a break, he’ll come home and find you cooking in the kitchen or reading some book he recommend and he just gives you ‘that’ look with his stupidly beautiful eyes.
You don’t have to ask any questions before you’re taking off your shirt and laying in bed, letting him suck your tits. He just lays there with you caressing his head, running your nails against his scalp comforting him to the best of your ability. Kissing his head while he runs his hand down your hips. He groans as soon as he wraps his mouth around your tit, sucking and groaning.
He treats this moment as if it’s something he never wants to forget, as if he never wants to leave it. Now, it happens when you have to pull him off for a second. He just so needy for you, he needs you. Frank groans ‘Mommy’ his voice is deep, it’s clear he’s desperate. He looks up at you. His eyes starring into your soul begging for more.
God the things it does to you just hearing it leave his mouth, God you didn’t even realize you liked that until it left his mouth, Franks mouth. You just have to give in, you have to. He’s your solider, ‘The Punisher.’ For the first time he’s begging you for something and you just have to give in, just have to let him have it.
This will usually always leads to passionate sex with soft caresses followed by ‘I love you’s’ and ‘So good Frankie.’
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hellsburners · 8 months
Text
focus on me
summary: you tease frank while he’s on a call pairing: frank castle x male reader word count: 1.1k warnings: 18+ warning, domestic frank castle, sex while on call, blowjobs, top!frank obviously a/n: from a prompt by hailey !! (omg mike 2 fics in a day?)
masterlist | more frank castle
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It was a Sunday morning spent watching football with Frank. He sat on the couch holding the remote while you were lying down with your legs resting on his lap. He was busy watching the game and you were completely unaware of what was going on. He would cheer, curse at the TV, shout, and almost throw the remote. 
“Fuck! What the fuck is up with this ref?” he said, throwing his hands around. 
He was so serious, his brows furrowed and his body so animated. You try to tease him through his sweatpants, the heel of your foot lightly grazing his crotch. You twist and turn on the couch to show that you were just shifting for a more comfortable position, but the truth is you were focused on getting him hard. 
“Babe,” he said. “What are you doing?”
“You’re so riled up with that game I figured you could ease up a bit,” You feel his crotch harden underneath your heel. You sit beside him, palming his growing erection. “It looks like it’s working though.”
He grunts, your middle finger drawing circles around his tip. You loosen the tie around his waist, putting your hand underneath the fabric to release his cock. It was thick, your fingers wrapping around the whole shaft. The tip was already red and leaking, your index finger spread the wetness all over to form some lubrication as you stroked it. 
“Shit—,” Frank groaned. 
You were about to take him in your mouth before the phone started to ring. Frank moved over to reach for the phone, his cock still bare. He answers the call–it was David Lieberman. 
“Hey, what’s up.”
 “There’s a problem with the site,” David said through the phone. You tried to back off—to let him finish before playing with his cock again; but the aching red tip was taunting you, practically begging for touch. 
As they were discussing some work stuff you started to stroke his cock again. Frank’s eyes darted towards you enlarged with his brows furrowed. What the hell are you doing? He mouthed. You opened your mouth, saliva dripping like a clear string on his cock. You stroked him again before you took him in your mouth. 
Frank grunted. “All good there boss?” David asked. 
“Yeah yeah all good,” he cleared his throat. His hand went to the back of your head, guiding you as you tasted him. 
Frank tried to stifle his groans, his grip on your head getting tighter. Your lips wrapped around his thick length, sucking in all the air as you bobbed up and down. His hips started to buck into your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. 
You pulled off from his cock with your lips making a popping sound. You gasped for air as David continued to ramble about money and costings. Frank pulled away from the phone to speak.
“Oh so now you want to pull away? Nuh-uh kid, go back at it,” he said, pulling your head back in.
Your eyes started to well with tears as he fucked into your throat, using your mouth like a toy for his pleasure. He continued to talk to David, almost as if you weren’t there. Your jaw started to sore, your lips dripping wet, and your back hunched over. Your crotch started to stir. 
“Attaboy.”
You started to use your hands to stroke him, even fondling his balls. Your warm hands and wet mouth drew the hardest grunts from Frank. You could hear David ask him if he was okay. 
“Yeah, just need a drink that’s all,” he said, clearing his throat. “Talk to the other guys, we’ll deal with this tomorrow.”
“Sure thing boss,” David said, dropping the call after.
You look up at him with teary eyes. He looks down at you with half-lidded eyes, patting your head like you just did a good job. He pulls you to his lap taking off your lower garments before straddling him. You align his tip with your hole, slowly sinking in. You held onto his broad shoulders for stabilization, his lips smirking as you wince in pain. 
“Fuck—it’s too big,” you cry out.
“You the one who started this,” he said sternly. “You gotta finish it.”
He holds your waist, pulling you down on his erection as it stretches you open. You cry out once more, your nails digging into his skin as you try to stay calm. You started to move your hips, moving it in circles, his cock filling you to the brim. It was an immense pleasure, the heat from your body rises tenfold. You ride him faster and with more vigor, your eyes closing in. 
He takes your chin to fix it in his gaze. 
“Open your eyes when I fuck you,” he said, lifting you so he can move his hips into you. He was quick and rough, your brows twitching trying not to close your lids. 
He lays you down on the couch so that he’s on top. His large arms above you as he fucked into your hole, your legs shaking and clenching in. You wrap your arms around his neck, moving your hips in sync with his. At that moment you felt your body join him, in complete synchronicity, both pleasure-bound. 
“Frank—” you moaned out. 
His lips let out hard grunts, his dark hair plastered across his forehead. You couldn’t stop admiring him. His stubbled face and his crooked nose. This man was all yours, to tease and to toy with, to fuck and to adore. 
“You gotta cum for me alright,” he groaned. “Then I’ll cum inside you, yeah?”
He started to buck his hips, his biceps flexing and his hands more veiny. The pleasure was too much, it was sending a thousand shocks of electricity all over your body. Your vision started to darken, Frank started to grunt louder, his thrusts more erratic. 
“Shit—shit,” Frank repeated as he hit his climax, spilling his cum inside you. 
You came all over your chest, some on Frank’s. He collapsed on top of you after, his large body weighing on you. You kissed him on the cheek, patting his head. 
“I think you missed the game,” you said, turning on to see that the game was done. 
“Fuck the game, we’re not done yet.”
“What?”
“Yeah, this is your fault for teasing me,” he said nonchalantly. “Now go on your hands and knees, I’m fucking you again.”
interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>
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itwasthereaminuteago · 9 months
Text
|| Probably Nothing ||
Frank Castle x female reader
Tags/warnings: pet names, kissing, grinding, intense fingering.
Here's the plot I couldn't write. 🤣 This one goes out to all my Frank girlies who just need a break. ❤️
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You've already had a shit day, and coming home to be greeted by the sight of Frank lounging on the couch with his big dirty boots resting on the coffee table is just one fucking annoying thing too far. You grit your teeth as you throw your stuff in a pile on the floor before stalking over to him.
"Hi sweetheart, how was your day?"
"Off!" You snap at him, your face like brewing thunder.
He doesn't move his feet, just looks at you for a second, reading your expression, considering.
"Okay. That good huh?"
You kick at his boot, not in the mood for games. "Get them off the fucking table, Frank."
He lifts his legs down one at a time. You spin on your heel but before your can move Frank leans out slipping his arm around your waist and yanking you off your feet and into his lap.
"Fuck off Frank! I've got shit to do, let me go!" You hiss.
He keeps his arms snug around you as you're facing him, just tight enough that you can't struggle against and away from his ridiculous strength.
"An I'll let ya get right to it in a minute darlin', but there's something I gotta do first."
You huff and hmph as you finally quit wriggling around realising you're getting nowhere, the warmth of his embrace starting to penetrate through the armour of your bad mood.
"What? What is it?" You demand, annoyed that he's just smiling up at you with that big dumb face of his.
He answers your question with a little peck on your cheek, that's it, just a quick chaste kiss and he's back studying you again. You scowl at him, unmoved.
"Frank… c'mon I don't have time for this."
He cocks his head and hmms before kissing you again on the cheek three more times. He's softer with it, taking his time, moving his mouth closer to yours with each kiss. You turn your head to say something but the words are halted, smooshed to a muffled mumble as he captures your lips in his. The kiss is still so soft, his bottom lip brushing your top one, the slightest bit of tongue flicking up, just testing the waters.
You sigh and he starts to reel you in, taking advantage of the prickly guard you've let down, kissing you so very tenderly as he feels your body gradually begin to loosen in his hold. He tugs gently on your lower lip with his teeth before licking over it and you open up slightly for him as his hand comes to caress your lower jaw. His kiss goes a little deeper now, soft sighs escaping you between the teases of his tongue against yours. But now you don't want teasing, you want more. Every so often he'll break off the kiss, his eyes flicking up to meet yours and he'll smile. Then you realise you're smiling back.
"Mm, oh I think we might be gettin' somewhere." He decides before weaving his fingers through your hair and guiding you back to his gorgeous mouth. You shift in his lap, legs spreading either side of his own and he helps you, his free hand skimming over the curves of your body as he's kissing you deep again. Small sounds begin to float in the air between you, soft encouraging ones from him, and contented moans from you. You slide your hands up and down his chest, and he chuckles at the minute rocking movements you're making with your hips.
"Yeah, there we go…" he rumbles against your ear with a grin before he tugs your lobe then caresses that sweet spot below it with his lips.
"Frank…"
His big hands wander all over your body, kneading at the fullness of your ass, sliding up to your waist, and massaging your tits through your pretty summer dress. He manhandles you to turn around, your back against his chest. Confusion crosses your face but he kisses it away and everything's forgotten as he lifts up the hem of your dress and starts rubbing his thick fingers up and down your pussy through the soft cotton of your panties. All the while he keeps kissing the column of your neck, occasionally gently holding your jaw in his fingers to turn your head so he can plunge his tongue into your wanting mouth.
He hums with satisfaction as you grind back on his crotch, keeps on stroking you until you're whining, almost soaking completely through your underwear with how pent up and horny he's got you now.
"Shhhh, s'alright. I got all night to make you feel good ain't I, baby?"
You automatically nod, lax in his arms as he lazily circles your throbbing clit through the fabric.
"Mnh, Frank, please-"
His scruff rubs against your face as he peppers kisses along your jaw and down your neck while he squeezes your breast, pinching and rubbing at your peaked nipple making you squeak in need and frustration.
"I know, I know. You good now, feelin' better?" he asks, as if it's not obvious that your shitty mood has all but dissipated into dust. You shake your head as you lean back against his shoulder, thighs spreading wider in anticipation of him giving you what you need.
"Aw you need more sweets? Yeah…" he pulls the damp crotch of your panties to the side and you're writhing as he runs a thick finger between your glistening pussy lips. He adds another, gathering and spreading your arousal over your core. He taps at the little swollen bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs and gives your pussy a slap causing you to buck your hips up with a yelp.
"Good girl," he drawls as the slick pads of his fingers drum over your clit and you moan.
When he finally stops teasing and slides his middle two fingers inside, you call out his name in a pathetic needy little whine.
"Frankie!"
"Mmhm." He responds as he slowly fucks you with them, massaging the very depths of you as he curls them. He keeps playing with your tits as he plays with your cunt, and you're so fucking turned on and wet you're dripping over his hand as he amps up the pace. You can't shut up, mewls and moans echoing around the apartment along with the sloppy wet noises from Frank thrusting his fingers in and out of you so hard and fast you think you could come from just that.
"Yeah, that's it baby, my dirty fuckin' princess." He growls next to your ear as he feels your inner walls gripping around him. "Attagirl. You let go f'me, just let go pretty girl, let me hear you, lemme hear my pretty girl come."
Your legs are shaking, pushing up off of him, up off the couch but he's got you, he's always got you. Embarrassingly loud squelching sounds only add to the mess you're making as you're leaking all over the crotch of his jeans. He's fucking you so fast and filthy, bringing his other hand down to rub your engorged clit and it feels so fucking good. You're so close to coming, you can feel the giant, impending monster wave of it rising higher and higher until finally, it reaches its peak…
Your orgasm floods through you, your hips jerking hard as Frank keeps on pushing his fingers in and out as you're pulsing around them, gradually slowing down as he follows your body's movements. You gasp and curse some more, your ribcage expanding and contracting like you've just run a marathon.
"Uhhhh, ohgodohgodohfuck- Fraaank! I'm gonna- I'm gonna-!"
When the last aftershocks fade you finally still, and Frank slowly, carefully withdraws, sucking the sodden digits into his mouth and licking them clean.
"Okay. You can go do your stuff now."
You lay limp on him, completely, utterly, and literally fucked out. it takes you a couple of minutes to get your brain back in gear.
"I- I don't remember what I was gonna do…"
Frank just smiles and kisses the side of your face. "Probably nothin' important then."
You hum in agreement, closing your eyes as you continue to catch your breath, your entire body still vibrating with bliss.
"Yeah, probably nothing."
😉
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bellaxgiornata · 9 months
Text
You're Safe With Me [Chapter One]
Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader
Summary: When you accidentally stumble upon something far bigger than the fluff and filler news stories you’ve always covered for WGN News Chicago, you reach out to the Department of Homeland Security and come in contact with Dinah Madani–but that only seals your fate as a target for the Patriot Militia and their wealthy political backers. Determined to root out the culprits deep within the government, Madani tasks an unlikely person to keep you safe while she builds her case. But when the person she expects you to go on the run with is Frank Castle–the Punisher himself–you feel anything but safe.
Warnings: 18+; series contains violence, mentions of mass shootings, angst and comfort, slow burn romance, enemies to lovers, eventual smut
Word Count: 5k
a/n: Sharing the first chapter of this fic! There's a bit of exposition at the beginning, just a heads up, but it's all important information. I'm really excited about this series and feedback is certainly appreciated!! Chapter list can be found here.
Tag List: @lunaticgurly @allaboardthereadingrailroad @linamarr @hollandorks @sleeperthelazy @marcysbear (tagging everyone who initially asked, please let me know if you want to be removed)
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Today had started off as almost any normal day at WGN Chicago for you. You'd been at your desk working on piecing together a news segment detailing the upcoming construction in the city this morning, rushing to meet a deadline for Gloria. It was a terribly boring piece, one that had been tossed around the station until it had eventually landed on your desk. Having stared at that filler piece more times than you’d have liked, you had found yourself already on your second cup of coffee for the morning, a headache pounding in your head that you hoped to relieve with the extra caffeine. 
But while you had been at your desk working, you'd received a call from a number you hadn't recognized on your phone. Maybe it was foolish that you'd answered that call and talked to whoever it was on the other end of the line, but it wasn't entirely unusual considering your line of work. You often had sources calling you with information about something. But you'd thought that their very enthusiastic invite to a Patriot Militia rally in a small town just outside of the city was incredibly strange. Your curiosity had admittedly been piqued as you jotted down the address, wondering why a group dangerously close to being deemed domestic terrorists had actively sought out attention from WGN News–and from you in particular considering you weren't remotely a big name reporter at the station. After you'd gotten off the phone with whoever it was that had called, you'd made a few calls to verify the rally was legitimate before bringing it to Gloria’s attention. 
Of course, like any good boss when it came to covering potentially dangerous stories, she'd instantly rejected the idea. She'd told you it wasn't safe and it smelled like danger– especially because it was being held on private property and because there would definitely be guns present. It was, after all, the Patriot Militia. You had practically begged her to let you head out there this afternoon with just Andrew to film so you could cover whatever it was that was happening with this rally. You figured if someone had gone through the trouble to invite you then there had to be a story there, and you were desperate to make your way out of the filler and fluff pieces. Eventually Gloria had caved and given you permission, but only with the promise that you'd leave if things seemed like they were getting out of hand.
Knowing what you now knew, you wished you wouldn’t have gone at all. You wished you hadn't gotten involved.
Everyone at the rally had been surprisingly friendly to you and Andrew, though. Nothing had seemed remotely suspicious or out of the ordinary, and you were shocked to find that you hadn't felt threatened in the slightest despite the fact that everyone was heavily armed. Even more unexpected than that, considering your presence had apparently been a surprise, even if a welcome one, was that everyone you had interviewed had been willing to make statements to the press for the piece you were putting together. 
But what you hadn't expected when Andrew was packing up his camera equipment was that you’d overhear a conversation behind one of the tents as you'd finished getting a last minute statement. 
You had almost immediately recognized the voice of Adam Johnson, a Republican running in the upcoming senate elections. Curious, you'd paused and leant up against the tent, pretending to be focused on your notes as you turned the audio recorder in your pocket back on. When you realized exactly what he was discussing with a few other men in hushed voices, your eyes had gone wide. 
You worked in the media yourself, even if you weren't much of an investigative reporter at the station quite yet, so of course you’d heard all about the mass shooting at a mall in Schaumburg only days ago. Fifteen injured and three dead. But it wasn’t the police that had arrived on the scene and gotten the situation under control, it had been a civilian with a concealed carry that had stepped up and taken charge. He’d shot the suspect on sight and killed him. It had been all over the news after the fact, and the civilian who'd stepped up and killed the shooter had been touted as a local hero. 
But from what you had gathered while you’d stood there silently eavesdropping on the hushed conversation, you’d learned the shooting hadn't been perpetrated by an ordinary young man like the news had been reporting. He'd been a member of the Patriot Militia, one who'd willingly played martyr for the cause. The whole thing had been orchestrated as a way to sway public opinion on guns. And as you continued to eavesdrop, you'd begun to learn what happened in Schaumburg hadn’t been the first time they had done this. The shooting that you’d seen in the news only a month ago out near Columbus, Ohio had been brought up among the group, and they’d also name-dropped a Glen Allen, Virginia, though that name hadn’t rung any bells in your mind for any recent incidents.
From what you’d gathered, it sounded like not only was the Patriot Militia behind these mass shootings where armed civilians had taken out the shooter–who also happened to be a Patriot Militia member–but these attacks had begun to sound far more like terrorist attacks, and it seemed like they were being quietly led by prominent political figures who were proudly anti-gun control across the country. 
Clearly you had accidentally stumbled on something you weren’t meant to hear at that rally, and it had made you wonder if the stranger who’d called and invited you out to it that morning had hoped you’d uncover this. Especially since you had been the only member of the press present at the private event.
Your heart had been furiously hammering in your chest when you’d slipped your phone out of your pocket, readying it for a quick, inconspicuous photo. Ducking your head, you’d walked past that tent and snapped a single, quick picture of the group of men you’d been recording, knowing that whatever you'd overheard was proof the Patriot Militia was in fact a domestic terrorist group. News that you needed to take far above WGN and straight to the proper authorities.  
You’d thought you’d been in the clear when you and Andrew had left the rally without a single problem, too. You were driving a little faster than usual, trying to rush straight back to the station, your eyes repeatedly flickering to the rearview mirror as you drove. Though no one had followed you from the rally.
Back at the station, you’d immediately sought out Gloria in her office and relayed everything you’d overheard. The two of you had huddled over her desk as you replayed the recording you’d taken, Gloria’s face only looking more and more grim as she listened. Afterwards, you’d pulled up the photo on your phone and–despite the attempt to hide their identities with hats and sunglasses–the pair of you had quickly recognized the politicians Adam Johnson, Eric Bane, and Daniel Carpenter who were speaking to Elijah Wolf–the man who ran the Patriot Militia. 
Gloria had immediately retrieved the number for the Department of Homeland Security, which she had scribbled on a piece of paper and slid across her desk to you with a trembling hand. She’d urged you to call them immediately and you had. 
That was how you’d been put into contact with an Agent Dinah Madani who seemed quick to act the moment you’d spoken to her and explained what you had uncovered. She’d stayed on the line with you while you uploaded the audio file and the cell phone photo, sending them to the secure email address she’d given you. And then she’d continued to stay on the line with you while she listened to the recording, a nervous churning beginning in your stomach as she did. Afterwards she told you to make a copy of both pieces of evidence and to hold onto it, sit tight, and keep your head down. Before ending the call, she had given you her personal cell phone number in the event anything else came up or in case something more happened.
And, unfortunately, something did.
Sitting at your kitchen table, you’d been quietly eating your reheated leftovers for dinner. Chewing a bite of the pasta, your eyes were meticulously scanning over the news articles from the day on your phone. Nothing in the media had mentioned a single thing about the Patriot Militia rally or a shooting in Glen Allen, Virgina, though. As your eyes continued to skim over the day’s news, your hand absently twirling pasta noodles around your fork, you heard a noise coming from the side of your house. 
Your hand froze mid-twirl of the fettuccine noodles, your breath entirely catching in your throat as your eyes widened. Distinctly you could make out the hushed tone of voices just outside. Carefully setting the fork back into your bowl, you rose to your feet and slipped your phone back into your pocket, making your way towards the window above your kitchen sink. Nervously you reached a hand out and peeked through the blinds. Two men dressed in all black, both carrying guns in their hands, were sneaking around by your garbage bins along the side of your house. 
Fear struck you like ice in your veins and you quickly lurched backwards, releasing the blinds. Your heart began to beat just as rapidly as it had done earlier this afternoon when you’d snapped that photo and tried to disappear from the rally without raising suspicion. 
The men outside had to be related to the Patriot Militia. But why? If they’d known what you’d discovered today–what you’d recorded–why wouldn’t they have done something before you could leave that rally? Why would they show up at your house later at night and have given you all that time to alert the federal authorities about them?
In a panic, you flew from the kitchen as quietly as you could, racing down the hallway and towards your bedroom. Keeping the lights off, you pulled open your closet door before kneeling down and digging around in the corner of it. Eventually your hands landed on the duffle bag you occasionally used as a carry on when you traveled. Barely paying attention to what you grabbed, you began tossing handfuls of clothing into the bag, stuffing a few bras and pairs of underwear from your dresser inside before you snatched your wallet from your purse on the bed. Cautiously tip-toeing back to your dresser, you grabbed the flash drive you had transferred the photo and audio recording to the moment you'd gotten home from off of it, adding that to the few things you’d packed. 
The moment you’d finished zipping up your bag, you heard the faint squeak of your back door opening and you stopped, your body becoming completely still. Whoever those men were, they were in your house now. And that had the hairs on your arms raising.
Inhaling a shaky breath, you tried to stay calm. Leaving out your front or back door was no longer an option now that they were in your house–you’d have to pass them to reach one of those exits and that was not something you wanted to do. Eyes darting to your bedroom window above your dresser, you knew you had no other choice. 
You reached your hands out, pushing the curtains back as silently as possible. Biting down on your tongue, you unlocked the window latches next before slowly beginning to push the window up. You could make out more hushed voices coming from your living room and you swore you'd stopped breathing while you worked. Continuing to push the window up, you winced when it made a soft noise as it slid upwards, breaking the silence in your bedroom. Thankfully neither of the men came running down the hall to your room at the faint noise, though.
Leaning over your dresser, you peered outside and checked that no one was lingering out front before tossing your bag outside. You heard it land with a soft thud on the grass. Climbing carefully up onto your dresser beneath the window, you thanked whatever higher power existed that the windows in your house were wide enough for you to comfortably climb through right now. 
Awkwardly you maneuvered around on top of the dresser, turning and placing your legs out of the window one at a time. Slowly you began to slide your body through it. It wasn’t until you were almost halfway out of the window that you heard the shout, your bedroom lights turning on and taking you by surprise. Looking over your shoulder, you caught sight of one of the men dressed in all black standing there, a black ski mask covering his face and the gun still in his hand. Your stomach felt like it almost flew up out of your mouth at the burst of fear and adrenaline that immediately shot through you.
“She’s climbing out of the window!” the man shouted. “Go out the front!”
Terrified, you’d pushed yourself the rest of the way through, tumbling down the short drop and ungracefully landing on the ground. You scrambled to your feet as fast as you could, grabbing your duffle bag before glancing over your shoulder to be met with the sight of a gun pointed right at you. With a shriek, you darted to the side and took off at a run down the sidewalk, your legs protesting the movement as your lungs began to burn. 
You kept on running, adrenaline pushing you forward as you neared the corner of the street. Chancing a look behind you, you spotted both men standing in your driveway staring straight at you. Though neither of them were chasing after you. 
You didn’t give yourself time to wonder why as you continued running, trying to make your way back towards the downtown of the suburb you lived in where you hoped you’d be safe among the crowds of people. The moment you were, you’d be calling Agent Madani and praying she had some way to keep you safe.
°•°•°•°•°•°
Leaning an elbow along the bar counter, Frank drank down the cold beer in his hand. His eyes lingered on the country band currently on the stage in the roadhouse, listening to the music they were playing with a faint smile pulling up one corner of his lips. It was the reason he’d meandered his way over here from the motel next door. He’d heard the music on his walk over to the room he’d paid for, having been ready to settle in for the night after the long day of driving he'd been doing. He was exhausted and his body ached from sitting in the van for hours. Inevitably the music pouring out of Lola's Roadhouse next door had drawn him like a moth to a flame before he'd even managed to unlock the door to his room.
The pretty brunette behind the bar counter he'd spotted when he stepped inside was just an added bonus, too. Frank had surprisingly found he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes from her every time he ordered a new beer, though he hadn’t made any attempt to flirt. It was something he’d become aware of lately ever since he’d left New York. He’d been noticing women more–not that he never had before, but ever since–
He drew the beer bottle back up to his lips, taking a long pull. He didn’t want to think about that.
“How’s about I get a pint and one for you, too?”
Frank swallowed down his beer, his eyes still focused straight ahead as he heard yet another inebriated patron hitting on the woman. That was the sixth one he’d heard this evening since he’d stopped in here.
“Thanks man, I’ll grab it later,” the bartender told him.
“Oh come on,” the man behind Frank said, his voice grating on his nerves already, “why not grab it now?”
“I don’t drink when I’m working,” she replied in a clipped tone. 
“Well if I’m giving you my eight dollars, I’d at least like you to have a drink with me,” the man continued.
Frank’s hand gripped tighter around the neck of his beer bottle, his jaw clenching as he tried to focus on the music playing. He was not going to get involved. He was laying low and he’d be leaving in the morning. This didn’t concern him.
“And why’s that?” she huffed out.
“I think you’re a good lookin’ woman,” the man replied, trying to sound all charm. “And I want to see how far down those tattoos go.”
Frank’s eyes slowly closed, his teeth grinding against each other. Couldn’t this man take a ‘no’ the first time around? He hated assholes like these.
“Plenty of other women here with tattoos,” she answered, setting what sounded like a glass on the counter behind him.
“Oh come on,” the man pressed. 
To Frank’s ears, it sounded like the man had reached across the bar counter when he'd spoken, and when Frank’s head shifted just a bit over his shoulder, he noticed the man indeed had a grip on the brunette’s wrist. Anger slowly began to smolder in Frank’s gut at the sight as the woman tried to pull her arm out of his grip.
“At least give me your name or a number,” the man pushed.
Trying to keep his temper under control, Frank turned and rested his back against the bar counter, knocking a fist against it lightly three times. The gesture caught the man’s attention and Frank’s intrusion quickly cut off whatever the woman had been starting to say, but his focus was on the asshole still grabbing her wrist.
“Hey, the lady is tryin’ to work,” Frank pointed out, trying to keep his tone casual and calm despite the anger he felt begging for a release. “You expect her to keep pourin’ drinks while your holding her arm like that? Let her go.”
The man made a show of releasing her wrist, the brunette shooting Frank a once-over before she walked past him behind the bar to continue pouring beers. Frank muttered an offhand ‘thank you’ to the asshole, trying hard not to cause a problem as he focused back on the band–because he was supposed to be staying out of trouble. 
But he could feel the asshole’s eyes still on him.
“What a skank.”
Frank’s eyes narrowed just a bit, his head shifting back towards the man a fraction. “That’s real classy, man,” he shot back.
The inebriated man beside him rose from his bar stool, his eyes still on Frank. “You say something to me?” he asked, trying to sound intimidating as he closed the space between them.
“Yeah,” Frank answered simply, turning further towards him.
The man reached out, placing two fingers against Frank’s chest before he roughly pushed them against him. Frank's eyes lowered to the man's hand, staring at it as the guy used those same two fingers to push against his chest a second time. 
"You just made my night, dumbass," the man said, his two fingers pushing against Frank's chest for a third time.
Eyes rising back up towards the man's face, Frank's right hand casually swung up and grabbed the man's fingers in his grip. With a sharp twist he heard the sound of finger bones snapping over the sound of the band playing. Instantly the man cried out, doubling over in pain as Frank tossed the man's hand back at him.
"You sure 'bout that?" Frank asked.
Clutching his injured left hand to his chest, the man straightened and reached out, picking up a beer bottle from the bar counter beside him. In a single, swift movement he'd smashed it against the counter, beer and glass splattering everywhere. 
"Come on now," Frank warned him. "Don't do that."
The drunk took one step forward, ready to lunge at Frank with the smashed bottle raised in his hand, but the roadhouse bouncer came up behind him before he could get any further. He grabbed the man's wrist, twisting the broken bottle from his grip before he shoved the man over the bar counter, keeping his good arm trapped behind his back. With the man incapacitated, the bouncer focused on Frank as he spoke.
"You've got two options," he told Frank. "Either you leave, or I kick your ass out with this asshole."
"Hey, Ringo," the brunette behind the bar cut in, her voice briefly catching Frank's attention. "He's good. He was just helping me out."
The bouncer known as Ringo eyed her for a moment longer before Frank saw him give the woman a quick nod. He pulled the man off of the counter, leading him towards the exit without another glance at Frank. Though Frank’s eyes watched as they went, following to make sure the man didn't cause any more trouble as he clutched his injured hand to his chest.
"I deal with assholes like that every damn night," the bartender said.
Frank’s focus shifted from Ringo and the asshole he was dragging outside to the woman eyeing him up on the other side of the counter. Gradually Frank turned fully towards her, resting both of his hands on the bar and contemplating another beer after all of that or whether he should just head back to his motel and call it a night. 
"You shouldn't have to," he told her. "'S'not right."
Her eyes lingered on him, a slow smile sliding across her lips. Making a quick decision, he'd been about to ask if he could trouble her for another drink, maybe this time while getting her name, but the phone in his jacket pocket began to vibrate. Brows curiously drawing together, he glanced down towards the noise before reaching a hand inside of his jacket, pulling it out. 
Who the hell would've been calling him on this phone? He'd picked it up shortly after he'd left New York. To his knowledge, only two people had the number.
Looking down at the series of numbers on the screen, confusion further spread across his features. It was Agent Madani's number. But why the hell would she be calling him? She'd made it quite clear that if he crossed her path again, she'd be arresting him. 
Frank glanced up, about to tell the bartender he needed to take the call, but she'd already wandered off to help another patron. With a sigh he slid his finger across the screen before holding it up to his ear.
"Yeah?" he asked into it.
"Castle, it's Agent Madani," the woman's voice immediately came over the line. 
"Figured as much," Frank replied, his focus on the damp bar counter before him. "Wasn't expecting a call from you. Am I already in trouble, Madani?" 
"No," she answered him quickly. "I actually need a favor. A…big one."
Frank's eyes narrowed curiously as he heard the tension in her voice. What could a federal Homeland Security agent need from him? 
"And what's that?" he asked carefully.
Madani loosed a deep sigh that was loud enough for Frank to catch over the music still playing in the roadhouse. Her apprehension was only increasing his curiosity.
"I need you to protect someone," she said after a moment. "They've…accidentally stumbled on something and now they're in danger."
"You got federal agents for that, Madani," Frank pointed out.
"Yeah, well," she continued slowly, "I don't exactly know who I can trust with this here."
Frank pushed away from the bar counter, maneuvering his way through the crowd of people dancing and enjoying the band. A few of them shot him strange looks as he moved between them but he ignored it. The closer to the roadhouse exit he got, the better he could hear Madani over all the noise. 
"What's that supposed to mean?" Frank asked. "And what's that got to do with me?"
"There's a woman who came to me earlier today," Madani explained. "She's a reporter for a news station out in Chicago and she accidentally stumbled on something huge. As in national security huge. It's something that involves high profile politicians–we’re talking wealthy, big names here. It's–it's going to be a massive scandal once this surfaces, but I need to keep her alive. I'm trying to assemble a case but I need her witness testimony with the evidence she brought me."
"Yeah? What's that gotta do with me?" he asked her again.
“She was at a Patriot Militia rally today,” Madani continued. “I don’t have to tell you who they are, do I?”
Frank leant up against the wall near the exit, his eyes on the pretty bartender pouring a beer. “Bunch of crazy activists, yeah?” he asked.
“Putting it simply, yes. This reporter recorded some things. Snapped a photo of these high profile people conversing together. Yet no one paid her any mind when she left that rally–because no one knew she’d done that. Or I think we both know she wouldn’t have been able to just hop into her car and leave.” There was a pause before she continued. “But she called me a few minutes ago. Couple men with guns showed up at her house. Now that has me thinking someone in Homeland caught wind of this and is trying to clean up the mess before anything gets out.”
Frank ran a hand over his chin, the stubble of his beard rasping lightly against his calloused fingers. “So you can’t trust your men but you think you can trust me?”
“I’m hoping I can,” Madani corrected. “I need you, Castle. If anyone is trained enough to keep this woman alive, it’s you.”
“I ain’t no babysitter, Madani,” Frank told her, shaking his head. “That’s not what I do.”
“I can make it worth your while,” she replied quickly. “I’ve talked to my superior Hernandez–the only one I trust on this right now–and he’s said if you help us with this, we’ll clear Frank Castle’s name.”
“Clear my name?” he asked curiously, his hand halting its movement on his chin.
“You won’t have to live as Peter Castiglione,” Madani told him. “You can be Frank Castle. If you help us. But I need her alive , Frank.”
Frank’s attention drew back towards the band that was playing on the stage, his mind racing. The government would clear him? Of all the charges for what he’d done in New York? And all he had to do was keep one woman alive to get that?
“What do you say, Castle?” she asked. “Can I count on you?”
His hand slowly lowering to his side, Frank pushed off of the wall, turning and making his way towards the exit. He pushed the door open, stepping out into the chilly night air.
“Yeah, I’ll do it,” he told her.
“Great,” Madani replied, her tone sounding vastly relieved. “Where are you?”
“Just outside of Detroit,” he answered, making his way back to the motel.
“She’s a bit north of Chicago so that’s perfect,” Madani said, her fingers flying across what sounded like a keyboard rapidly. “I’ll have her meet you halfway–Ruby’s Diner off of I-94. Tomorrow morning at seven sharp. Can you be there?”
“Yeah,” he replied, digging around for the key to his room in his pocket, “I can be there. But how the hell do I know who I’m lookin’ for, Madani?”
Frank’s eyes narrowed as Madani said a name over the line, his hand pausing in his search for the key in his pocket.
“She’s a small time reporter for WGN News out there. Google her,” Madani ordered. “There’s a picture of her on their site. That’s the woman I need alive, Frank. I just need you to hop from town to town and keep her safe. That's it. And I’ll be texting you coordinates for a drop site in a bit. I’ll have someone I trust leave money to help keep you both taken care of on the road while I build this case.”
Frank reached the door to his room, shouldering his phone. He slid the key into the lock, twisting it before opening the door and stepping inside. He turned on the light, closing the door behind himself before locking it. 
“Any questions?” she asked him.
“Yeah, just one,” Frank asked, tossing the room key onto a nearby table. “You say you need this woman alive because there’s people with guns tryin’ to kill her, right?”
“Yes,” Madani answered.
“So does that mean I’ve got the U.S. government’s express permission to keep her alive and safe by any means necessary?” he asked, his tone leaving no room for misunderstanding.
There was a long pause over the line at his question. Frank could hear the tapping of something like a pen coming from Madani before he heard her let out a rough breath. The corner of Frank’s lips twitched upwards at the sound.
“Yes, Castle,” she replied. “But no civilian casualties or our deal is over. And if the reporter dies, the deal is over. If you lose her, the deal is over. If–”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it, Madani,” Frank cut her off. “Text me the drop site details and I’ll find this woman in the morning. I’ll keep her alive for you, Madani. But I expect you to hold up your end of the deal.”
“I will,” she assured him.
Frank hung up, quickly pulling up the search browser on his phone afterwards. He made his way over to one of the beds in the room, settling down onto the end of the stiff mattress as he typed in the news station's name along with yours. Sure enough, a photo of a smiling woman appeared– your face–and for a moment Frank just sat there studying it. 
“So you’re the one who stepped in some shit,” he muttered to the picture. “You definitely look like you’d cause some trouble, that’s for sure.”
He stared at the photo for another moment longer, telling himself it was just because he was trying to memorize your face and not because he liked your smile. Eventually he closed out of the search and rose back to his feet, switching the screen of his phone off. If he needed to be a few hours from here by seven in the morning, he needed to go to sleep now. If he was lucky he'd get four hours of rest before he was back on the road again. 
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chvoswxtch · 25 days
Text
first date
pairing: frank castle x fem!reader
summary: frank finally asks you out on a date.
warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, explicit sexual content (minors dni)
word count: 6.7k
a/n: y'all have only been waiting seventeen chapters for these two to finally go on a date, but the moment has arrived! i'd like to give a shoutout to the main character of this chapter: frank's belt. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!
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Before you could even think about getting out of Frank’s truck and heading inside the Bulletin, his large hand reached over to grasp your own that was in your lap, giving it a gentle squeeze to capture your attention. When you turned to look back at him, there was a nervous glint in his eye. Nervous was not an emotion you were used to seeing Frank wear. As a matter of fact, you weren’t sure you had ever seen it, and it triggered your own nerves in response.
“I wanna ask you somethin’.”
“Okay.”
Despite the softness of your tone, your voice seemed to echo in the confined space of his truck. The way Frank’s warm brown eyes were darting back and forth between your own made it apparent that he seemed to be struggling with whatever it was that he wanted to ask. To soothe him, you turned your palm over in his large hand so that you could lace your fingers together and lightly stroked your thumb along one of his scarred knuckles affectionately. After an agonizing moment of tense silence, he let out a deep exhale through his nose and his rough voice broke through the quietness that had settled.
“What are you doin’ Saturday night?”
When the implication behind his question clicked in your head, a huge grin instantly split your lips completely apart to the point that your cheeks ached, and your eyes lit up with pure excitement. Tilting your head to the side a bit in a teasing manner, you faintly narrowed your eyes into a look of faux suspicion.
“Frank Castle, are you asking me out on a date?”
Frank blew out a puff of air as he turned his head to look out the windshield, letting out a quiet chuckle as the edge of his lips quirked up in a crooked half smile. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and when he turned to look at you again, his gaze flickered between your lips and your eager stare.
“Tryin’ to.”
Sinking your top teeth down into your bottom lip, you turned your body completely in the passenger seat so that you were facing Frank, still holding his hand in your lap while you sat up straight. As you looked over at him expectantly, Frank cocked one of his dark brows in silent questioning, prompting you to arch one of your own in response.
“Well, go on.”
“Go on, what?”
“Ask me.”
“I just did.”
“No, you said you wanted to. I didn’t hear a formal query.”
Frank rolled his eyes as he let his head fall back against the headrest, shaking it slightly while he let out a lighthearted scoff.
“You don’t ever make anythin’ easy, do ya?”
“I thought you figured that out by now.”
Frank clicked his tongue against his cheek, but you could see how hard he was fighting his amusement by the way the corners of his mouth twitched. Letting out an impatient huff, you rolled your own eyes and squeezed his hand to get him to look at you.
“Oh come on, do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this? I want the whole experience.” 
That got Frank’s attention. Turning his head to look at you, his thick brows rose up his forehead a bit, but only for a moment. His gaze then tapered while a cocky smirk lifted the left corner of his mouth upwards, and he motioned in your direction with his chin.
“How long?”
Heat abruptly flushed in your cheeks when your brain caught up with the confession your mouth let slip. Narrowing your own eyes at Frank, you let go of his hand and crossed your arms over your chest defiantly.
“You have thirty seconds before I get out of this truck.”
Frank chuckled deeply, causing light crinkles to fan around his eye sockets, and the unfiltered joy on his face made your heart feel like it was going to burst out of your chest. It never failed to amaze you how different Frank looked when he smiled. It was almost like looking at an entirely different person. One that wasn’t haunted by a separate lifetime of trauma and unbearable loss. He finally lifted his large hands in a gesture of surrender.
“Alright, alright.”
Twisting in his seat to face you, Frank brought his arm over to slide along the headrest next to you, and he slipped his thick fingers into your hair, moving them downwards until he could brush the rough pad of his thumb along your cheekbone delicately.
“Sweetheart, can I take ya out Saturday night?”
Almost instinctively, you melted into Frank’s touch, your cheek finding its home within his palm. There was a boyish grin on his lips, and you were tempted to climb across the space between you and straddle his lap so you could taste them. A sense of giddiness was fluttering in your stomach, and a smile born of pure happiness was strewn across your mouth.
“It’s a date.”
»»———  ———««
Frank was the epitome of a perfect gentleman. He showed up at your door five minutes early, although you had a slight suspicion he had been lingering in your hallway for far longer than that, and he had a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. Either you didn’t remember telling him what your favorite flower was, or Frank just really knew you. It was a simple, perhaps old fashioned gesture, but it warmed your heart. No one had ever gotten you flowers before, except for your mom.
To your surprise, Frank wore a black tie with his navy blue button down that was tucked into his dark jeans, and even threw a black blazer on top. You hadn’t seen him this dressed up since the night of the gala. It was kind of odd seeing him look so cleaned up. 
The restaurant he took you to had to be one of the nicest places you had ever stepped foot in. It looked like one of those places that charged you just to breathe their air, and you felt severely underdressed in the simple black dress you wore, even though Frank had complimented it at least three times on the walk over. 
A pristine white cloth was draped over the square table complete with the most shiny silverware you had ever seen resting on opposite sides of an eggshell colored plate. In the middle of the table was a small glass half sphere that had an ivory tinted tea light candle inside, creating an ambient glow in the dim lighting. Continuing the chivalry, Frank pulled out your chair for you and you quietly thanked him before he rounded the table to take his own seat. Your eyes were quickly drawn to the floor to ceiling grand windows to your right that had a breathtaking view of the Brooklyn Bridge all lit up. It was the perfect romantic backdrop.
But it wasn’t you.
And it wasn’t Frank.
He couldn’t sit still. He was shifty, tugging at the black tie around his neck, subtly bouncing his knee under the table. Frank’s eyes were constantly darting around, a habit of his you had grown accustomed to. Anywhere you two went, he was always hypervigilant, constantly sitting where he had a whole view of whatever place he was in, and a clear sight of all the entrances and exits. But tonight it almost seemed worse. It was blatantly obvious he was completely out of his element. He hadn’t said one word to you in the five minutes since the two of you had sat down at your table. Frank’s thick eyebrows were furrowed, an array of warring emotions flashing across his face while looking down at the sleek menu in his large hands.
Frank wasn’t the only one that felt out of place. You couldn’t hardly read a word on the menu, and the price for one single glass of wine made your eyes nearly pop out of your head. A few more minutes of silence passed before you glanced up at Frank again, and you noticed a few beads of sweat building along his hairline. He looked as uncomfortable as you felt. The other people sitting at neighboring tables around yours reminded you of people you had been introduced to at a dinner party with Steven once. It wasn’t as much of a dinner party as it was an excuse for Steven’s parents to show off their ridiculous multi-million dollar home, inviting New York’s elite to kiss his father’s ass while the attendees compared shiny new toys, scandals, and mistresses. That had been one of the most miserable nights of your life.
You were pulled out of your thoughts when the waiter approached the table, hands clasped behind his back, looking between you and Frank with a polite smile. He was tall and thin, freshly shaven, and his dirty blonde hair was perfectly quaffed. He was dressed as if he were attending a black and white gala, not waiting tables. 
“Good evening, and welcome to Brasserie. My name is Andrew. It is our pleasure to have you dining with us this evening. Shall I start you with a glass of our 2014 Brunello di Montalcino ma’am? Perhaps a Manhattan with our twelve year barrel aged rye whiskey for you sir? They both pair well with our Seared Foie Gras.”
Frank was staring at the waiter like he was speaking a language he had never heard of. His thick brows were creased in evident confusion, and you had to attempt to stifle a laugh at just how adorable he looked in that moment. You cleared your throat to gain the waiter’s attention and gave him a polite smile of your own.
“Can we have a moment to look over the menu, please?”
Andrew gave a faint nod of his head, his hands still clasped behind his back. That polite smile looked like it was permanent.
“Of course, ma’am. I’ll be back in a few moments.”
After he retreated, you looked across the table at Frank curiously.
“How did you find this place, exactly?”
Hearing the suspicion in your voice, Frank adjusted restlessly in his chair, reaching up to tug at the tie around his neck with a low grunt. His eyes darted around the restaurant for the thousandth time since you had sat down.
“Bill recommended it. Pulled some strings, got us a table.”
Suddenly it all clicked. No wonder Frank seemed so uncomfortable. He didn’t pick this place; Billy did. This restaurant had Billy Russo written all over it. With that new information, the way he was all dressed up now made sense too. On one hand, it made you grin knowing Frank had gone to Billy for help planning for your first date. It was so…cute. You would’ve given anything to be a fly on the wall for that conversation. On the other hand though, while you appreciated Billy’s input and help, you wanted tonight to be about you and Frank, and this setting didn’t represent either of you.
Quickly shutting the menu, you placed it back down on your plate and stood up, which immediately grabbed Frank’s attention. His head snapped up, looking at you in a mixture of puzzlement and trepidation, and when you held your hand out to him, he stared at it like it was a foreign object.
“Come on.”
“Where we goin’?”
“Just come on.”
Following suit, Frank closed his menu and set it down on the plate, grabbing your hand and standing up from his chair. Lacing your fingers together, you lead him down the exact path you had taken from the host’s stand and exited back outside onto the street through the tall glass doors. After taking a few steps down the sidewalk, you paused and turned around to face Frank, dropping his hand to reach up and undo the knot of his tie, slipping the black material from around his neck and stuffing it into your purse. You unbuttoned the first three buttons of his dark navy shirt, giving you a glimpse of his tan skin beneath, and pushed the black blazer off his broad shoulders and down his large arms. Folding his blazer over your arm, you took a step back to take in your handiwork, and a tender smile caressed your lips.
This was the Frank you knew.
“Much better.”
Frank glanced down at himself before lifting his head to look back at you. There was a look in his eyes that you didn’t know how to read. His lips parted slightly, and then quickly shut. Turning his head to stare at the restaurant the two of you had just left, he was quiet for a moment before looking down at you again. This time, you could see a hint of uncertainty shining in his deep brown eyes under the illumination of the street light above.
“I’m sorry.”
Frank’s apology instantly perplexed you, and it was written all over your face.
“Sorry for what?”
He let out a deep sigh, looking over your head to watch people passing by on the street in opposite directions behind you. He lifted one of his large hands to nervously rub at the back of his neck before meeting your gaze again.
“I uh…don’t really know what I’m doin’, here. I’m a bit…outta practice.”
The honesty behind his confession made your heart constrict in your ribcage. You knew what he meant. Frank hadn’t dated since he lost his wife. He hadn’t been on a first date in decades. It suddenly occurred to you how big of a deal tonight was to Frank, and that made your features soften. Taking a step closer, you brought one of your hands up to gently place against his jaw, staring up at him with an understanding smile.
“It’s okay. So am I.”
The feeling of your soft hand on his skin made him physically relax almost instantaneously. His large hands came up to gently grab your waist, and he pulled you in flush against his chest, staring down into your eyes deeply. 
“I just…wanted tonight to be special for ya.”
The juxtaposition of his gruff voice speaking so softly sent a tingle down your spine and only made you melt into his embrace even further. He was trying so hard, putting so much effort into trying to achieve what he thought was perfection, not realizing that the one thing you wanted tonight was the man standing in front of you.
“Frank, it’s already special. I’m with you. That’s all I wanted. I don’t need all of that. You could take me to get hot dogs at the stand on the street corner, and I’d be thrilled.”
Frank’s lips tugged into a wide grin as he chuckled, giving your waist a faint squeeze while shaking his head.
“I ain’t takin’ you for a goddamn hot dog on our first date.”
“Why not? I like hot dogs.”
“I ain’t ever even seen you eat a hot dog.”
Fighting your own grin, you tilted your head to the side and narrowed your eyes lightheartedly while gazing up at him.
“Aren’t you supposed to be trying to impress me? Not arguing with me?”
Frank’s dark brown eyes roamed over your figure in his hands, a smirk stretching across his lips at the sass in your voice.
“Thought that’s what I was doin’ til’ you dragged us outta that nice place.”
“I wasn’t paying thirty-seven dollars for one fucking glass of wine.”
“You wouldn’ta been payin’ anyway.”
Rolling your eyes, you gave his bicep a gentle squeeze while smirking up at him.
“Okay fine, I wasn’t going to let you pay thirty-seven dollars for one glass of wine. That’s like…three times what I spend on one bottle.”
“Didn’t realize you were so high maintenance.”
Burying your face into his chest, you couldn’t stop the laughter that made your shoulders shake slightly. Frank’s arms slipped around your waist, hugging you close to his chest, and you could hear his own laughter echoing deep within his chest and feel it rumbling against your own. Leaning back a little, you looked up at him with a teasing smirk and arched one of your brows.
“You know, I’m surprised Maria ever went out with you. You’re kind of the worst.”
Frank stared down at you with a soft smile and his large hand rubbed up and down your lower back gently.
“You and me both.”
Even though the two of you were standing on a crowded sidewalk in lower Manhattan with dozens of people passing by every second, while the two of you stared at one another, everything else faded away. It felt like you were in your own little bubble.
“Alright, if you’re gonna fight me on hot dogs, what’s the compromise between that and a menu I can’t read or pronounce?”
“I had a back up plan.”
»»———  ———««
Frank took you to a small little Italian restaurant for dinner. It was owned by a family who had immigrated to New York in the 1960s from Sicily and had been passed down through the hands of several generations. The red brick of the walls had faded into a dull shade of rust, the wooden table was worn and chipped from several decades of use and hot plates, and the wine tasted like it had come out of a five dollar box, but it was perfect.
Both of you were so much more relaxed and at ease in this cozy, intimate environment. The owner of the restaurant, a charismatic older man named Tony with a thick Italian accent, talked you into ordering the Rigatoni Amatriciana, and it was one of the best dishes you had ever tasted. He also never let your wine glass go completely empty. Once he found out you and Frank were on a date, every time Tony came over to your table, he’d look at you before glancing at Frank and nudge his shoulder with a grin, nodding in your direction and saying ‘lucky man’. It never failed to make you blush, or to make Frank beam with pride.
This was the most laid back you had ever seen Frank. The wine was flowing, and you were trading bites of each other’s dishes along with stories. He was in the middle of telling you how he met Maria at a park when you nearly spit out your wine as laughter abruptly erupted from your lips.
“Wait, she said what?”
Frank was laughing just as hard as you were, covering the top half of his face with his large hand, his broad shoulders moving up and down rapidly.
“Swear to God, she says, ‘Hey buddy, you know anythin’ else? Because we’re sick of hearin’ you butcher this one’.”
Covering your mouth with your hand, you were trying so hard to contain your laughter, but the image of a nineteen year old embarrassed Frank getting called out by his future wife for playing guitar so badly was causing your stomach to ache from your fit of giggles.
“Were you really that bad?”
“I wasn’t bad, I was just…strugglin’, ya know? I was tryin’ to learn a new song, ya know…singin’ it out loud like an asshole. I was-”
Frank paused for a moment, like he was replaying the memory in his head, and then a grin split across his lips as he shook his head and started laughing again.
“-I was butcherin’ the hell outta it.”
Hearing the resignation in his voice when he stopped defending himself only made you laugh even harder, watching as he brought his glass of wine to his smiling lips to take a large sip.
“Wow, she must have really liked you to still go out with you after that.”
Frank set his glass of wine down and gave a light nod of his head, staring down at his empty plate with a soft smile on his lips and a somewhat far away look in his eyes.
“Yeah. Yeah she uh…she saw somethin’, I guess. Somethin’ I couldn’t.”
Staring over at Frank quietly for a moment, you set your wine glass down before reaching across the table to place your hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze. When he glanced up to meet your gaze, you looked at him with a warm smile on your lips.
“It doesn’t matter if you couldn’t see it. She saw it, and it was special. That’s all that matters.”
Frank regarded you silently for a minute, and then a tender smile of his own crossed his lips while he brought your hand up to place a soft kiss to the back of it.
“You’re somethin’ special, you know that?”
Warmth caressed the tops of your cheeks and spread throughout your lower belly. The sincerity in his voice, the way he was looking at you…it had those three words right on the tip of your tongue again. It was astounding how everything with Frank felt so…natural. He was the first person you didn’t have to pretend with or water yourself down for. He didn’t expect you to be anyone other than who you were. Tonight was the most relaxed and carefree you had ever felt on a date, or in any of your past relationships before. As badly as you wanted to shout those three words from the rooftops, you decided on another truth instead.
“You make me feel it.”
»»———  ———««
After indulging in the most delicious tiramisu you’d ever tasted in your life, you and Frank found yourselves in a small dive bar a few blocks down the street. It wasn’t too terribly packed for a Saturday night, and you two managed to snag an unoccupied pool table towards the back of the bar after ordering a round of drinks. Frank, being the gentleman he is, offered to teach you how to play, and even though you already knew how, you weren’t going to turn down the offer. It was far too enticing. 
For about half an hour, you let him explain the game, felt him pressing up against you from behind while he “taught you” how to hold the pool cue and how to aim, his large rough hands manipulating yours on the cue to demonstrate proper placement. After he was finished with his little lesson, and with the liquid mischief of tequila flowing through your bloodstream, you decided to make things interesting.
“I bet the next round of drinks that I can sink that seven.”
Frank quickly paused when lifting his beer bottle to his lips, arching one of his thick brows while an expression of amusement painted his features as he looked at you.
“Yeah? One lesson and you’re an expert, huh?”
Without offering a verbal reply, you winked at him before leaning over the pool table and lining up your shot.
The deep maroon seven ball glided along the hunter green felt canvas that’s vibrancy had been muted by decades of ashen smoke, complemented by faint rings from one too many sweaty beer glasses and other questionable stains. It sank into the corner pocket with a loud clack, and Frank’s attention flickered between the corner pocket and your form leaned over the pool table, an expression of complete surprise flashing across his features. 
Slowly rising up to your full height, you fought to contain the smirk that threatened to overtake your entire mouth, though a whisper of it could be detected at the corner of your ruby painted lips. Frank noticed it, he noticed everything, and it had him narrowing his eyes in suspicion.
“You hustlin’ me?”
Placing the bottom of the pool stick on the floor, your fingers lightly slid down the smooth maple wood, lightly wrapping around the midsection while you lightly shrugged your shoulders.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Frank stared at you from where he stood casually leaning against the edge of the table, one of his large hands resting on his hip along the leather of his belt, the other grasping his own pool stick with two of his fingers and his beer bottle with the rest. The dim light above the pool table cast a shadow over his sharp features that made his warm whiskey eyes appear more like deep pools of darkened espresso. His thick brows pinched, causing a crease in his forehead.
“You said you didn’t know how to play-”
“I never said that.”
The look of faux innocence on your features caused Frank’s eyes to darken, cocking his head to the side while staring at you in a way that was silently challenging you to prove his memory wrong. Keeping your eyes locked on his, you slowly began to round the expansive pool table, your lips stretching into a playful grin. Slipping between Frank’s large form and the table, you purposefully brushed your ass against the front of his jeans, eliciting a deep grunt from him in response. 
“You said you could teach me.” 
Leaning over the pool table, you arched your back a little more than necessary while lining your pool stick up with the cue ball, lifting your ass further up into Frank’s point of view. You didn’t need to glance over your shoulder to know that’s exactly where his hungry gaze was. You could feel it.
“Yeah, and you let me.”
There was just barely a trace of annoyance nestled in the gravel of his deep voice, and it made you grin. 
“Did you think I was gonna pass up the opportunity to let you bend me over something?”
The dingy ivory cue ball was lined up perfectly with the smooth electric blue of the two, but just as you were about to take your shot, Frank’s large hand wrapped around your hip and squeezed tightly as he pressed himself against you from behind, and your hand slipped. The cue ball sailed only a few inches ahead in the opposite direction you planned for, and you tightened your grip around your pool stick. 
Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you turned your head to look up at Frank over your shoulder, only to find him staring back at you with a burning intensity that ignited a flame of pure desire in your lower belly.
“That wasn't fair.”
“And wigglin’ your ass in the air, bein’ a goddamn tease is?”
Before you could respond, Frank leaned forward, pressing his firm chest right up against your back, letting you feel the heat of his body against yours. The spiced woodsy scent of his cologne overwhelmed your senses far more than the concoction that wafted in the dense air of the dive bar, and you could almost taste the beer on his lips when he leaned in so close that his large nose bumped against your own.
“You wanna play dirty, sweetheart? We’ll play dirty.”
Frank suddenly stood up straight and let go of you to walk around towards the opposite end of the pool table. He grabbed the triangular rack and retrieved the balls from the outlet below before grabbing the others that were still scattered across the table, and he set up a brand new game with a look of pure focus and determination in his eyes.
You couldn’t help yourself from being even more of a tease. Frank just looked too damn good, and you had a great buzz going. He’d loosened another button to your delight, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows exposing his muscular forearms. Leaning your pool stick against the table, you sauntered over towards the high top table to your right where your purse was and slipped your hand inside, pulling Frank’s long forgotten tie out. 
“If I win-”
Turning around to face Frank with a smirk, you noticed that he had paused his set up of the game and was now glancing between the tie in your hands and the look on your face in a mixture of intrigue and confusion.
“-I get to use this, on you.”
As soon as those words left your lips, Frank’s eyes instantly darkened. He stared at you in a way that made you want to abandon the game all together and drag him out to the alley to let him fuck you there, but you knew he wouldn’t budge. Frank didn’t back down from a challenge. He embraced it. His eyes flickered between the tie in your hands and your gaze, letting out a quiet grunt accompanied by a nod in response before removing the rack once the balls were set up in a perfect triangle.
Grabbing his beer bottle from the edge of the table, he motioned towards your pool cue with it before taking a large sip.
“Ladies first.”
Placing the tie back into your purse, confusion knit between your brows at Frank’s nonchalance. You stared at him from the opposite end of the table, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Aren’t you going to tell me what you get if you win?”
Frank focused his attention solely on you, and there was a predatory look in his eyes that made you nearly sink to your knees right then and there.
“Figured I’d show ya instead.”
»»———  ———««
It took Frank twenty minutes to kick your ass. Twenty. Minutes. Why you thought you could actually beat him, who really knows. Maybe it was the confidence granted from the glasses of wine at dinner and the two margaritas you’d already had. Maybe you underestimated how good of a pool player Frank was, which was stupid on your part considering it wasn’t far fetched to think that his base had a pool table and he probably perfected his game during his tours in the Marines. Maybe you just didn’t give a fuck if you won or not because either way, you got Frank. He didn’t tell you exactly what he wanted if he won, but the fact of the matter was you could see in his eyes just what it was that he wanted and you were more than eager to give it to him.
Frank kicked the door to the small dive bar bathroom shut with his boot, taking his hand off you only for a quick second to lock the door. His kisses were hungry and aggressive, and even a little possessive. His large hands slipped from your waist down to your hips and finally reached around to land on your ass, squeezing roughly through the thin material of your dress. The action made you moan into his mouth, and he tore his lips away from yours just to attach them to your neck, leaving a wet trail of open mouthed kisses before speaking into your ear in a low and rough voice that had your panties immediately soaked.
“Been wantin’ to rip this off you all goddamn night.”
“No one’s stopping you.”
Frank’s large hands found their way to your hips once again, and he tugged your dress upwards until the hem of it was at the top of your thighs. Gripping onto your waist, he quickly lifted you up and placed you on the edge of the sink, the cool ceramic of it a stark contrast to the heated skin on the backs of your thighs. Just as you were reaching for his belt, he suddenly let go of you and took a few steps back, his tongue darting out to swipe across his bottom lip. Seeing the look of confusion on your face and the impatient pout on your lips, he stared at you with a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“Put your hands together.”
Blinking a few times, you continued to stare at him in perplexity. A crease formed between your brows at his words. 
“What?”
Frank didn’t tear his ravenous eyes away from you. They trailed over your figure, drinking in the sight of your dress bunched up to your hips, your thighs spread apart as you sat on the edge of the sink with your legs dangling below, a delectable view of your soaked panties. He took in the way your breasts rose and fell quickly from how hard you were breathing already, the heat that flushed in your cheeks, and the look in your eyes that gave away just how badly you wanted him.
Bringing his large hands to his belt, he slowly and teasingly started to unbuckle it. Despite the fact that you two were in a public space and anyone could come banging on the door at any minute, he was taking his time, making a show of pulling the worn leather from the metal buckle. 
“Your hands. Put ‘em together. I got a prize to claim.”
You were so mesmerized and aroused by the sight of Frank unbuckling his belt, you almost missed what he said. Lifting your gaze up to look at him, you seemed to get an idea of what he had planned for you, and it sent a thrill of excitement throughout your entire body. Without another moment of hesitation, you quickly pressed your hands together which earned a pleased smirk from Frank. He cocked his head to the side, slipping his belt from the loops of his jeans while taking a step towards you.
“Would ya look at that. You can do what you’re told. This what I gotta do to get you to listen, baby?”
An intense wave of heat pooled between your thighs at the way he was teasing you. His voice was so coarse and rough, but the way he spoke to you was smooth like honey. Biting down on your bottom lip, you gave a faint shake of your head.
“I’m listening cause I want it too.”
Frank was standing directly in front of you now between your spread thighs, and a grin stretched over his soft lips as he kept his head cocked to the side, staring into your eyes in pure hunger and amusement.
“That right?”
All you could manage was a soft hum in the back of your throat in response. When he started to wrap his belt around your wrists, your gaze quickly dropped to watch. The loud music playing outside was nothing compared to how loudly your heart was pounding in your ears. Frank carefully but expertly bound your wrists together, giving the leather a gentle tug to test his own work. Grasping your chin between his thumb and index finger, he lifted your head to capture your eyes.
“This alright?”
Nodding your head eagerly, Frank let out a soft chuckle. He lightly brushed his thumb along your bottom lip, leaning in to nuzzle his large nose against yours.
“C’mon now. That pretty head full of all them big words and you ain’t got none for me right now?”
“Hurry up.”
Frank let out a deep bellow of laughter at your impatient and rushed response, crinkles of delight fanning around his eye sockets.
“There’s my girl.”
Grabbing your elbows, Frank lifted your arms above your head, hooking your bound wrists on a piece of the light fixture above the mirror, leaving you completely at his mercy. He didn’t waste any time unzipping his pants to free his fully erect cock, attaching his lips to your neck once again while he pulled your panties to the side and pushed his hips forward. Immediately your head fell back against the mirror behind you the second that Frank’s thick cock nestled deeply within your snug walls and a loud grunt from him was followed by a desperate moan from you.
Time was not a luxury you had right now, and as much as Frank wanted to lose himself in you, he had to keep in mind where you were. Wrapping one of his strong arms around your waist, he pulled you closer to the edge of the sink, and while you wrapped your legs tightly around his lower back, he began to snap his hips swiftly. The glass was cold against the exposed skin of your back, and Frank was fucking you so hard, you thought it was gonna shatter from impact.
“Frank-”
He quickly placed his large hand over your mouth and whispered deeply into your ear.
“Shh shh shh, need ya to be quiet for me, baby.”
The sounds of your sharp moans and cries of pleasure were muffled by Frank’s large hand that was clamped over your mouth to keep you quiet. He buried his face into your neck, licking and sucking at your sensitive flesh, biting down gently to keep himself from moaning out. Every low grunt and groan Frank dripped into your ear was pushing you closer and closer to that edge that you wanted to free fall from. He was being rougher with you than he ever had, and it made your head spin. 
Tugging at his belt around your wrists, you let out a muffled whine against his palm. You wanted to touch him, but you were also enjoying this side of Frank too much to really care. Long gone was the gentleman who had picked you up at your door just hours ago with flowers in hand. Frank was fucking you hard and rough, and it was quick and messy, but it was exhilarating. Every time you were with Frank, it was like a brand new experience. He made you feel things you had never felt before, and gave you things you didn’t even know you were craving.
You could tell he was close when his pace started to falter. He began to fuck you relentlessly, and your legs tightened around his lower back. Your arms were starting to ache from being suspended above your head, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to really fucking care. You were far too turned on and dangerously close to coming. Slipping his hand down from your mouth to wrap around your throat instead, he pressed his forehead against yours and spoke lowly while staring deeply into your eyes.
“You gonna come for me, sweetheart?”
You couldn’t hardly speak. The way Frank was fucking you, his hand around your throat, your wrists bound above your head with his belt, the fact that you were in the bathroom of a dive bar; it all rendered you in incoherent mess. All you could do was nod weakly while letting out an obscene moan, staring at him with wide eyes in complete desperation. 
“Attagirl.”
That was all it took for a warm blanket of bliss to envelop you completely and stars to explode behind your eyelids. Frank poured sweet nothings into your ear while your hips uncontrollably bucked against him, and he continued to fuck you deeply through your orgasm. He dropped his hand from your throat and wrapped his other arm around your waist, hugging you tightly to his chest when his hips started to stutter. 
The sound of Frank calling out your name when he reached his own peak was something you would never get tired of. It sent chills throughout your entire body, and it only made it that much harder to not speak those three words that tried to claw their way out of your ribcage.
Frank gently brought your arms down and removed his belt from your wrist, slipping it back through the loops of his jeans before buckling it and zipping up his fly. Wetting a napkin, he carefully cleaned you up, pressing soft kisses along your jawline in the process. A hazy grin stretched across your lips as you slowly slid your hands up Frank’s biceps to wrap around his neck.
“We should make bets more often.”
He let out a deep chuckle as he grabbed your waist and gently lifted you up from the sink, setting you back down on unsteady legs. He helped you fix your dress before grasping your chin between his thumb and index finger, smirking at you.
“You ain’t gotta make a bet for that. All you gotta do is ask.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress
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amhrosina · 11 months
Note
Ok what about Franks reaction when you come home crying? Idk why, could be anything at all. I’m just imagining Frank excited for you to get home, only for you to come through the door with tear tracks down your face
a/n: ooooooooooo yes! i made frank so soft here i think i need comfort lmfao not quite as angsty as i wanted, but i like how it ended up! also, said this would be a drabble, ended up writing a 1.2k ficlet sooooo enjoy!
warnings: implied violence, implied smut at end, reader gets mugged (off page), f!reader, no use of y/n, frank comforting reader, reader gets a little weepy
masterlist // join my taglist
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You never thought you’d reach this point, but you were praying Frank hadn’t made it home from work yet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him - you always wanted to see him - but the sight of your swollen, tear-filled eyes would probably send him into a frenzy, and really, all you wanted to do was curl up in his lap and forget about the entire encounter that had left you in tears. 
Luck, it seemed, was not on your side, however, because as soon as you stepped into your apartment, Frank’s overwhelming presence was immediately apparent to you. His work boots, neatly lined next to the door, were in the place he always left them when they were too dirty to store in your shared closet. His coat, the one he’d insisted he didn’t need but wore every single day in the winter, was hung in the corner, next to the empty hook that normally held your jacket, scarf, and hat. The most obvious indicator, though, was the irregular clatter of dishes being moved around, used, and discarded in the kitchen.
“Sweetheart?” He called, eagerness clear in his voice. “That you?”
Shit. Suddenly, the guilt of praying he wasn’t home moments before threatened to consume you.
“Sweetheart?”
His voice was closer now, much closer, and you hurriedly swiped the tears away from your cheeks, hoping he wouldn’t notice your blotchy cheeks, or the fact that your eyelids were more swollen than you’d ever seen them. You cleared your throat and tried your best to sound normal.
“Hey, Frankie.”
You turned around to meet him, smiling in an attempt to hide your sorrow, and suddenly felt extremely stupid. Frank wasn’t an idiot, and the look on his face when you finally looked at him told you he was seeing right through the facade. 
“What happened?” 
“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You shrugged, blinking away the fresh wave of tears building in your lash line.
“Did someone hurt you?” 
His voice was oddly calm, but there was a bite in his tone that he was clearly trying to suppress. 
“No.” You shook your head, stepping closer to him. “I’m fine.”
He blinked down at you, cupping your damp cheeks in his warm palms.
“You’re lying to me. Why are you lying to me, sweetheart?” 
“I’m not.” You denied instantly, resolve growing weaker with every pass of his thumb over your cheekbones. He was silent for a moment, eyeing your quivering bottom lip. He took in your appearance, the word ‘disheveled’ coming to mind as he looked you over, before finally pinpointing what was missing from your usual attire.
“Where’s your bag?” He queried, tilting his head slightly. 
You huffed, finally allowing the tears to spill onto your cheeks. “I was on the subway and this asshole was crowding me when I got off and before I could even try and get away from him, he took off with my bag.”
“Okay, shh shh shh shh, baby. It’s okay.” 
You were, embarrassingly, blubbering at this point. You hadn’t even gotten to the worst part yet. 
“The necklace you got me for Christmas was in there, Frank.” You sobbed, trying not to think too hard about the lost gift. It had been your most prized possession since the moment you’d put it on. Until this morning, you’d never taken it off. You cursed yourself for thinking it would be safe in your bag. “I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, honey, it’s going to be okay. I’m not mad, baby. Don’t apologize.” Frank cooed, pressing gentle kisses across your face. He was all too aware of how much that necklace meant to you. “I’m going to make a call, okay?”
“You think you can get it back?” You knitted your brows together in confusion. “I didn’t even get a good look at his face. I have no idea who he is.”
“I know, sweetheart. I’m just glad you’re safe.” He pulled you into his chest and began dialing his phone.
“Who’re you calling?” You questioned further, nuzzling into his warmth.
“Lieberman. If anyone can find the guy, it’s him.”
You listened as Frank relayed the information to Micro, occasionally giving him additional information. Frank’s free hand cupped the back of your head, absent-mindedly running his fingers along the nape of your neck while Micro searched through camera footage and DMV records. You knew the second they’d figured out who did it, so tuned into Frank’s body that you physically felt the tension build in his shoulders. 
“You gonna kill him?” You asked, eyes focused on Frank's jaw, which hadn’t unclenched since his conversation with Micro.
“I should.” He mumbled, eyeing your reaction carefully. “He could’ve hurt you.”
“He didn’t, though.” You shrugged, “Maybe he needed food or something.”
Frank’s eyes softened. “Are you really trying to find the good in the man who stole your favorite thing from you?” 
“Maybe.” You shrugged again, grinning when Frank huffed in annoyance. 
“You’re too nice.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Good thing I’m not.”
“I thought you’d be more mad.”
“Oh, trust me. I’m pissed that he even looked at you.” His jaw clenched impossibly harder. “But I’m just glad you’re safe. If he’d hurt you, though…,” he trailed off, shaking his head, “I don’t know what I’d do. Something illegal. That’s a given.”
You nodded, understanding his desire to protect you. If the roles were reversed, you’d do the same. You sniffed, eyes flicking to the kitchen, where something was definitely burning.
“What were you cooking before I came home?”
Frank stiffened before taking off toward the kitchen. “Holy shit, I forgot I had something in the oven.”
You giggled and followed him through the apartment, the entire encounter on the subway a distant memory already. Frank would take care of it. He always did.
Later, hours after falling asleep on Frank’s chest, the distinct sound of your fire escape window closing woke you from your slumber. Frank was no longer beneath you, and hadn’t been for some time you realized, sliding your fingers over the cool sheets where he’d been earlier.
“Frankie?” You softly called, slightly lifting your head from the pillow.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He gently crawled into bed, hovering over your still mostly-asleep figure and kissing the tip of your nose. “I have something for you.”
He lifted his arm, and you nearly shrieked when you realized what was dangling from between his swollen and slightly bruised fingers.
“You found it?” You gasped.
“I said I would, didn’t I?” He smiled, kissing you again.
“Frank Castle, you absolute fucking gentleman.”
He chuckled at your crude language. “That’s high praise coming from a princess like you.”
You smiled, kissing him deeper. He groaned when you slid your tongue into his mouth. 
“Let me show you how grateful I am.” You teased, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.
“Baby, you won’t hear any complaints from me. Your wish is my command, princess.”
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 9 months
Text
lilac, masterlist
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a/n: ...yes i did spend about an hour in procreate trying to change the sign on the right photo to say lilac and not the name it originally said... welp. I wouldn't be me if I wasn't an overachiever.
summary: moving back home to the family-run inn isn't exactly what you had expected, especially not with the mysterious lumberjack that now calls the quaint little town of Dunbrook his home as well...
warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, running an inn in a tiny rural town, explicit sexual content, violence, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, slow burn, pete castiglione era, total word count is 42k
masterlist | join my taglist | series playlist
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CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble
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ee congrats. What about a blurb or headcanons, whichever u want i suppose, of fake dating with Frank Castle having to infiltrate something or another? ^_^
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Faking It.
frank castle x female reader
warnings - cursing. allusions to sex.
written for my 5k celebration - post here, masterlist here, inbox here.
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He’s got his hand on your ass.
Sure, the two of you are playing a couple, undercover in a Mr & Mrs Smith style mission. But surely there’s a thousand other places he could put his hand.
You look at him with a scowl on your face and he winks, all cheeky and boyish. Heat crawls its way up your skin, and you beg yourself to calm down. It’s fake. It’s all pretend.
When you enter the ballroom of the gala, it’s packed with people. Frank winds a hand around the back of your neck, steering you in the right direction. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is.
You’re laughing and playing fake niceties to an old couple at the bar. They’re telling you how beautifully in love you look, and all you can do is rest your head on Frank’s shoulder and sigh wistfully as they coo. He pulls you into him with a hand on your ass, and you resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs. He knows he’s riling you up. That’s why he’s doing it.
It’s becoming a game, now. Who can wind the other person up more.
Frank is sat on a fancy leather couch, sweet talking a middle aged woman in a long purple dress. You approach, and take the spot right on his lap, wiggling your hips to get comfortable. He hisses in your ear, fake smile still on his face, and the satisfaction you feel is unparalleled.
You’re out in the hallway coming up with a plan when two men walk past, eyeing you suspiciously. You do what any logical woman would do - smash your lips to Franks and hope he doesn’t question it. He kisses you back with much more passion than necessary, one hand around your neck and the other one on your stomach, pushing you backwards into the wall. You bite his lip as hard as you can and he groans, all deep and pretty, and you’re starting to think this plan has backfired massively.
“Damn, girl.”
“Had to think on my feet.”
“Don’t think your feet were the body part you were thinkin’ with.”
You punch his arm as hard as you can, laughing when he grabs it in pain.
“Let’s get that fucking info and get out of here. I’m sick of everyone telling me how handsome my husband is.”
“He is though, isn’t he?” he teases as he grabs your hand, walking back into the crowds of people unaware of your scheme.
Your fingers stay intertwined for the rest of the evening. He squeezes every now and again, once or twice, and you figure out the code pretty quickly. It’s a silent communication, and it works. In no time, you’ve got what you needed, slipping out of the front door and down the huge winding driveway.
You snatch your hand away, and smack his ass as hard as you physically can.
“What the fuck was that for?”
“Revenge. You grabbed my ass way more than necessary tonight.”
He laughs, and you hate the way it makes you smile.
“Good kiss, by the way.”
“Hmm?”
“You’re a good kisser. Even if you did draw blood.”
“I’m about to draw a lot fuckin’ more if you don’t shut up, Frank.”
He chuckles, throwing an arm around your shoulders.
“Might suggest we play a couple every time we go undercover. This is kinda fun.”
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agirlcandream84 · 2 months
Text
How Frank Would Comfort You After Scaring The Shit Out of You
Summary: Frank was away for days and you hadn't heard from him for the last 72 hrs. You assume the worst.
To me, this is smut.
Word Count: 1,005 (4 min read)
Warnings: Angsty Frank, guns, insomnia
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-----------------
At this point you were surprised you were still even functioning with your mind so preoccupied with Frank. Yes, you often knew little about his trips and the only bits you could piece together were often the scattering of wounds across his body when he came home but he had always come home. This time was different. You had lost contact with him at least 3 days ago, the last text from his burner phone just a brief "love you." Frank never went silent for 3 days, no matter the trip.
Anxiety ravaged it's way through you, destroying your appetite and rendering you a forgetful, jumpy mess. Sleeping was a laughable pipe dream, tossing all night and jolting awake with a gust of wind. You, of course, began assuming the worst about him, anguish enough, but you'd also convinced yourself that whoever Frank was after was out to get you next. You were Castle's girl afterall, that had to amount to something or some sort of collateral.
By day 5 you were barely functioning at work and on so little sleep you were seeing hallucinations. Nothing grand or absurd, just little movements out of the corner of your eye, like a bug shimmering and fading. Jumpy at every movement. Heart pounding when a man looked your way a little too long. Despite your deep desperate desire for sleep, your mind couldn't shake the feeling of a threat looming.
That evening you had managed to finally fall fitfully asleep at 3am, only after 15mgs of melatonin, some Nyquill, a weighted blanket laying heavily across your shoulders and one of Frank's guns tucked on the bedside table. He had once taught you how to use it, urging "I mean it sweetheart, you gotta learn this," and you had just followed along, chuckling at the absurd idea that there would ever be a time that Frank wasn't there to protect you.
The single quiet click from the front door opening was enough to jolt you upright in bed, your body moving before your mind barely caught up. Your heart is hammering in your chest so hard that your ears can hear nothing but woosh woosh woosh as your hands scramble for the loaded gun. Your eyes find the clock, 3:47am, but your mind can't make sense of the number. Your mind can't make much sense of anything, clouded with sleep aids and adrenaline, except pure panic.
You manage to find your feet on the floor, the shaking in your hands progressing to your whole body and you make it two steps before crashing into the dresser and sinking to the floor. You hear steps approaching, heavy leaden thunks, and hold the gun out in front of you, shaking so badly you couldn't even hit a cruiseliner if you tried. Your eyes are still struggling to adjust to the darkness, handicapped by the Nyquill and debilitating tiredness, one of those damn imaginary bugs skittering in the corner of your eye.
The knob turns slowly, at least it felt slowly, everything seemed to have the sensation of moving in molasses but also at the speed of light, and the door starts to swing open. You hear the sound of a terrified sob before realizing it was your own, as the hulking shape steps into the door frame.
"Pppplease. Please don't, ppplease. God, please don't" you're mumbling, a prayer or a chant.
"Sweetheart?," says the voice into the room. Your eyes squint to make out the features, gun still pointed into the space between you, shaking violently.
"Sweetheart, it's me," it says again, taking another slow step into the room, crouching to your position on the floor.
"ppppllease, please stop," you mumble, begging your brain to catch up.
Frank lifts his hands, palms towards you for a moment to show he's unarmed and says "Sweetheart, I'm gonna take that gun now ok?" He asks it real slow, soft like he'd ask a kid.
You nod your head in agreement but your hands don't move, the gun still aloft and rattling. He reaches forward slow, his eyes locked on yours, as you feel his calloused hands slip around yours, the gun being pulled slowly from your grip and tucked into his pants.
Frank.
Frank.
Your eyes take him, finding the shape familiar.
Frank.
Your brain catches up and apologies begin tumbling out of your mouth. "S'sorry Frankie. Didn't know it was you. S'sorry. I was so scared," you mumble, your eyes still blown wide in panic and your body still tremoring in fear despite the threat disappearing. The sorrys devolve into heaving sobs almost instantly, wracking their way through you. Choking for air.
"Ssshhh ssshhh sshhh, no honey. Shit sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry," he murmurs as he scoops your form flush to his body, his hand cradling your head as he presses your tear-stained face into his chest. He shushes you as he rocks gently, the sounds muffled by the kisses he's planting on the top of your head.
"Thought you were dead," you choke out, your sobs renewing as you wind your hands into his shirt in fists.
"Things got bad for a minute sweetheart but I'm here. Not gonna leave you," he replies, the quiver in his own voice undeniable. "Hang on to me," he murmurs as he wraps your legs around his waist and stands, his arms pressing you so firmly into his body you nearly lose your breath.
Your body felt like lead in his arms. The moment Frank saw you he knew he'd put you through hell the last five days. The deep purple shadows hugging your eyes. Your form more gaunt than when he left you. The tremors he still felt as he held you to his body.
He sits on the bed and reclines against the headboard, shifting your body to lay across him with your head rested at his shoulder. You don't loosen your grip on his shirt, the adrenaline leaving your whole body tense but your mind so fucking tired.
"Want you to sleep now sweetheart. Can you do that for me?" he rumbles into the top of your head. You shake your head yes, sleep felt like a tidal wave consuming you and everything around you, and murmur, "please stay."
"I'm here. I'm right here," he replies as a lullaby of I'm Sorrys in Frank's arms puts you to sleep.
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