#frank females

[cinnamongirlsdiary]

my holy trinity

[swirlingyouintomypoems]

Will I always be alone in this house? Reading books that are too hard for me in the long fatherless hours?

let your dad die energy drink - daniel lavery and cecilia corrigan/bob’s burgers, 2011/family line - conan gray/@parentless-suggestions/promises of gold - jose olivarez/unknown/dna - lia marie johnson/i am angry because of my father - halsey/part of me never left that house - mada hayyas/unknown/father - demi lovato/franz kafta/unknown/primer - aaron smith/family line - conan gray/untitled - frank wright

***sorry for all of the unknowns on this one. I really do try to find the sources for everything but I kept coming up empty w these. If you know the sources pls comment/send me an ask or dm and lmk!!

[saintlucretia]

the feeling when your fictional crush is so wild you can't even defend them:

[geekynerfherder]

'Night Maneuvers' by Frank Frazetta.

[chvoswxtch]

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.”

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

[eupheme]

k02. accidental stim + thigh-riding | just once

frank castle x f!reader

rated e - 3k

tags: hurt/comfort, references to blood/violence, wound-tending, strangers-to-lovers, implied mutual pining, accident stimulation, thigh-riding, oral sex (m rec), reader has hair long enough to tug, swallowing

You know you shouldn’t look for the handsome stranger that shows up, night after night. Should lock your window, forget you saw him. That’s the smart thing to do, after all.

But you think you might like that he needs you. That you can’t stop thinking about him. That you can’t stop wanting more.

It’s interesting how quickly you’ve become used to finding a strange man on your fire escape.

The first time it happened, it had scared you near to death. A dark smudge in the shadows, when you went to close the blinds before bed.

A sharp jab of fear, realizing there was a body propped up against the railing. Phone in hand, fingers hovering on Wade’s contact when you saw the streaks of red against pale skin.

Still not sure how you got him inside. Spent an hour afterwards scrubbing the traces of him from your windowsill. Smeared fingerprints, the scuff of boots against your floor.

Half-conscious. Blood oozing out from a wound at his temple. A clean washcloth from your bathroom pressed to it, as you started to call for help.

The stranger moved then. A broad hand curled around your wrist. Head tipping back, and you could see those brown eyes from beneath the hood.

“No cops.” He croaked, “No hospitals. ‘m fine.”

You had patched him up the best you could. The urge to help outweighing the ringing stranger danger in your head. A little soothed knowing help was next door.

The night spent awake, watching.

He thanked you the next day. Apologized.

It was in the early morning light that you finally got a good look at him, that dark hood pulled back. Handsome face, quiffed hair, pretty lips beneath the curve of his nose.

Broad, when he stands. Slipping back out the way he came. A devil at night, gentleman in the morning - even with his rough edges.

Thought it’d be the last time you saw him.

You were wrong.

That one night turns into another. Something almost like a routine, except for his timing. Twice a week and then nothing for more. Three weekends in a row, and then silence for a month.

On the second night, the stranger tells you his name is Frank.

On another night, some two weeks later, he tells you that your apartment is the only one within two blocks he can reach from the ground. Only stopped because your window was cracked open. Knew you were home.

Could smell the blend of vanilla and sugar from there. Seemed like a safe place to rest, until he could make it back home.

It should deter you.

It doesn’t.

He’s as layered as the clothes he wears. All dark - black field jacket. The splatter of white, some sort of pattern on the shirt beneath another zip-up.

And red.

Always red. Red dripping from his nose. Bruised shadows beneath an eye. Split knuckles, his hand resting against your knee as you yawn - binding them carefully.

Tucked on your couch to sleep a couple hours, gone by the time you’re leaving for work. Midnight breakfasts that always ends in a “thanks, sweetheart” that leaves you pretending that there isn’t a kaleidoscope of butterflies in your chest.

Never tells you what he does. Never lets you in, other than the slip of his last name.

Castle.

It fits him. Something as strong and formidable as he is, with the furrow of his brow. The grit of his jaw, when your needle pierces flesh.

Never complaining. Content to take what you give him. A wary eye when you pick at those layers, a fingernail digging under a chip of paint.

Always seems to be gone longer, after you do.

The last time he was here, you hadn’t seen him for three weeks. Waiting for a tap on the glass that didn’t come.

Only for your window to creak open, barely heard under the rumble of the storm overhead. Some time long after midnight, closer to dawn.

You knew it was him, in your sleepy haze. Knew the sound of his boots as well as your own. The soft rasp of your name, as you propped yourself up.

The worry quickly tempered, when he crouched to your level.

“One hell of a storm,” Frank rasped, “Just need a place to wait it out.”

The relief has sleep pulling you back under. A muttered “no boots in bed”, as you yawn, followed by a “or wet clothes.”

You don’t think you would have said it, if you were awake. It felt like a dream - something made up. Wishing he would come back to you and then he was.

A low huff. Layers peeled off, as the mattress dips.

In the morning, he’s gone.

You’d think it was a dream, if your pillow didn’t smell like him. If the bed wasn’t still warm where he lay - if you could shake the feeling of his breath in your ear, an arm slung around your waist in the night.

It had felt like something had changed.

That was, until now.

Now, your brow furrows. Blood beneath your nails from where you helped ease the vest from his chest.

His hand covering yours, stilling the shake as you gripped the straps. Your little huff of relief when it’s only bruises and scrapes that bloom beneath, instead of the scattering of fired bullets.

Now, they rests on your hips, as you stand between his spread thighs. His chest bare under the warm light of your bathroom - mottled in bruises but it doesn’t take away the breadth of him. The etched muscles that bunch and flex beneath your fingertips.

Something you’re achingly aware of. Something you’re desperately trying not to think of, as you dab antiseptic around the edge of an abrasion.

His eyes are fixed on yours, even as you concentrate.

It’s something you discovered about him quickly. Frank doesn’t shy away from eye contact. Content to keep his on you, even as you work. Skin heating from beneath his watch.

Could just be him. His work is something dangerous, he never needs to tell you for you to know that. And from the splinters you’ve pieced together, you don’t see him as a bad guy. Or at least - he doesn’t see himself that way.

But a part of you wonders if he watches because he wants to. Something greedy. Unblinking - taking you in like you wish he would.

“You’re lucky,” You muse, thumb smoothing over the bandage, “Think this is the least banged up you’ve been.”

“Lucky.” He huffs, “Suppose you could say that.”

The roll of medical tape clatters against the sink, before slipping down into the bowl. His fingers biting into your hips as you lean to grab it, shifting into his space.

“Careful.” It’s a low warning, rumbled out, “Makin’ it real hard to keep my hands to myself, sweetheart.”

Only then do you notice how much you’ve leaned into him. Your thigh pinned firmly against his spread one. A hand on his shoulder for balance, your tits pressed against his bare chest.

You shift back, but it only makes his hands grip harder. His eyes dark, under the glow of the bulb above - making you feel like you took a blow, yourself.

“Don’t have to,” You manage, “Keep them to yourself, I mean.”

There’s a sharp, inhaled breath. His eyes flicking between yours, as a mark deepens between his brows.

“Wouldn’t be right.” It’s gritted out, “This is your home-”

Your heart hammers behind your ribs, as the hand at his shoulder slips to his neck, “I know. I-, I wouldn’t let you in if I didn’t-”

“Trust me?” Frank laughs, the sound hollow, “Sweetheart-”

The word dies on his tongue, with the sudden slam of a door in the hall - ringing out like a gunshot. A loud voice followed by the pounding of footsteps up the stairs, as you are suddenly crushed against Frank’s chest.

His palm slipping over your mouth, as he shoots to his feet. Crowding you against the bathroom door, shushing your muffled yelp.

You can feel every inch of him pressed against you. Breath held as he leans into you, a thigh nudged snugly between yours. Hands flattened against his chest. Unyielding, as you give a little shove.

Something hard curving against your hip. A rough sound in his throat when you squirm against him again - the words trapped behind his hand.

“Fucking stop,” He growls in your ear, “Someone is out there-“

Your shove turns soft. Stroking up his chest until you’re touching at his jaw. Angling his face to meet yours.

His eyes are wild, nearly black. Deadly focused - their sharp edge flicking down to yours. A beat as he considers, when you point to your mouth.

“It’s my neighbor,” You manage with a gasp, when his grip loosens, “He tries to see how fast he can run up every single stair. Drives us all crazy.”

He goes still. Eyes narrowed, as if trying to figure out if he believes you.

You know what he thought.

Might now know a lot about him, but you could sense the danger he thought you were in. Instincts kicking in, as he believes whatever horrors he faced out there were brought back here.

“It’s okay.” You soothe, “You’re safe.”

His nostrils flare, jaw gritting. Fingers fisting in the fabric of your sleep shirt, knuckles biting into your hips.

“Distract me.” He husks, voice low.

Your eyes widen, “How?”

There’s a sharp jerk of his head, his own dark eyes still fixed on yours, “Any way you want.”

He’s still as stone as your eyes sweep across his face again. A million thoughts running through your head, as your thumb sweeps across a stubble-lined jaw.

Head tilting, until you can press your lips just above, against the sharp cut of a cheekbone.

You can feel his exhale against you. The tightly-strung muscles easing, even as he tugs you closer. Even as you hear the hitch in his breath, the way his head tips towards yours.

You move slow.

The next brushing his cheek.

Another, to the corner of his lips.

It’s then that he moves. A rough groan in his throat as his hand shifts to your chin. Holding you in place so his mouth can meet yours.

Something chaste, that turns hungry. His hips canting into yours, as his tongue sweeps into your mouth.

You let him. Fingers slipping against the short, velvet-shorn hair. Up until there’s something to grip onto, as his hips rocks against yours.

“Fuck.” It’s rumbled against your lips, “Been driving me crazy, sweetheart.”

You moan, as his lips drag to press against your jaw. How his thigh rocks against your core, where you’re still pinned between him and the door.

“Haven’t been doing anything,” You protest, weakly, “Just patching you up.”

There’s the rough huff of a laugh.

“Funny how that works.”

There’s the pounding of your heart, just below his lips. Fingers that trace the waistband of your sleep shorts. Slipping beneath your shirt to grasp at your waist.

Tugging, until you’re rubbing yourself on his thigh. The muscles flexing beneath you as you gasp, nails biting into his bare shoulders.

Trying to avoid the bruises, his skin hot to the touch. Another roll - again and again. A rough grunt each time you press flush, when the imprint of his cock ruts against your hip.

The seam on your shorts catch on your clit. Your breath quickens, as your arousal dampens the thin cloth. A dark patch seeping into the dark denim, but Frank only groans when his eyes flick down to see the gleam.

“Feels good.” You breathe, eyes half-lidded.

His teeth flash white, in the dark room. Pressing harder, until you’re whimpering. Until there’s a building pressure in your belly, toes curling against the worn rug.

“Frank.” It’s a plea, it’s a warning.

“Yeah, beautiful?” His knowing tone, the sweet name sends heat to your cheeks, “You close? Think you can come for me like this?”

You don’t know if you can. All you know is the feeling of his thigh nudging against you, as his boot bounces. The rasp of his stubbled cheek against yours.

“Think you can.” Frank hums, “Think you want me to hear how pretty you sound when you come.”

His name strings out. Fingers teasing, slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. A rough moan in your ear when he meets bare, slick skin.

Another pulled when your own hand drifts. A palm cupping him, where his clothed cock ruts into your hip. The heel of your hand nudging with the flex of his thigh.

Again, and again. Sweet nothings slipping from you, a heady mix of his name and “please” and “oh my god-”, as your head tips back.

His mouth against your neck, your chin, your mouth. Your cry cut short as his body presses you flush between him and the door.

Fingers slipping down. Beneath the dampened fabric, circles pressed against your clit. Wanting to do this himself, to give this to you.

The pleasure blooms low in your belly. Liquid heat and the release of what feels like weeks of building pressure coursing through you, as he brings you over the edge.

Your orgasm pulsing low and warm, as your hands find his shoulders. Adding fingerprint bruises to one’s he already carries. Ones he’ll look at fondly, when he’s alone.

Frank’s knee only eases from you, when that tight grip on him finally loosens.

The aftershocks still honey-sweet where they thud in your core. Legs like jelly, as your back slips against the door - as you sink to your knees.

You want all of him.

You’re greedy like that - fingers itching to reach out and take. To beg, but your eyes are drawn the bruises. The shadows under his eyes, you don’t know the last time he slept.

There will be more time, later. If you’re lucky.

“Hey. Hey-” His voice is almost worried, broad hands wrapping around your biceps. The words twisting into a choked sound instead, when your hands trace up his thighs. Over the slick patch, darkening the denim.

Eye-level with his hips. Your gaze meeting his, as you press an open-mouthed kiss against the straining curve.

He groans then. Bare chest heaving, as his hands drop to his belt. No words needed, in sync from the nights already spent together - from patching him up in near-silence.

Thumbs hooking into the waistband of dark boxers, tugging down. Your eyes tracing where the dark trail from his belly thickens, hair coarse at the base of his cock.

“Don’t have to.” It’s half-hearted. A tick to his jaw, when your fingers join his.

Another sharp tug, until his cock is freed. Achingly hard, as it bobs in front of you. A pretty shade of pink that grows darker at the tip. A drop leaking from the slit, the head already glossy from where it smeared against fabric.

God, you need to taste him.

“I know.” You breathe, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you grin, “I want to.”

Leaning forward to taste him. A kiss against the shaft, tongue flattening against velvet skin.

“Wanna take care of you.”

His fingers flex, curling into fists.

Your eyes meeting his, “Think you like it when I do.”

Frank stiffens at your words, a sharp inhale through teeth. But you miss it - lips parting to take him into your mouth. A moan as you suck, feeling how his cock jerks against your tongue.

“Fuck.” He grits - the flex of his hand, as he cups the back of your neck. Fingers twining into your hair, tugging.

“Just once.”

Don’t know if he’s telling you, or if he’s telling himself. But he doesn’t need to tell you.

There’s a part of you is certain each time is the last you’ll see him.

Always hoping he will come back, of course. Looking for him, even.

But never expecting it.

You’ll take what you can get. What he gives you inching further into your mouth - the hollow of your cheeks as you suck, head gently bobbing.

He’s big. You knew he would be, could feel the heft of him beneath your palm. An ache in your jaw already, but it’s worth it - to give him this.

“Just this one time.” He repeats, hushed.

As if he’s not imaging how you taste. Knowing you’re slick and bare and dripping beneath those shorts. Knowing that’s the only layer he’d need to rip away, to find out how soft you truly are.

Wet and warm, for him. A perfect fit for his cock, though he can’t get enough of the way you hum around him.

Forgotten what it was like.

Spit strings between your lips and his cock, when you pull back. He lets you - that grip loosening, though his fingers stay twisted in your hair. Keeping you close, only slipping away long enough for you to tug the shirt from your shoulders.

Letting it pool on the floor, letting his eyes drag over more bare skin beneath. His touch following without thinking - calloused fingers tracing your shoulders. The soft curves of your tits, palm cupping flesh.

The other hand anchoring himself to you again as before. The curved weight against the back of your head - a gentle, encouraging pressure.

Urging you to his cock again. Already missing the warmth of your mouth. Working him back up to that peak again, and then further - as you take him into your throat.

His breathing grows shorter. Those same sounds that slip from him when your needle sinks too deep, knitting skin together.

Given freely now. Muscles flexing as he bucks into your mouth, chasing the pleasure that threatens to snap inside him.

“Shit, baby.” Frank rasps, “You want me to come on these?”

A squeeze against your chest. You make a low sound in your throat, in response. Eyes flicking up, sinking another inch deeper as your fingers grasp onto his jeans.

“Fuck.” The syllables draw out, “Sure, sweetheart. Anything you want.”

His fingers tug harder. The flicker of pain along your scalp blending with the heat that lingers between your thighs.

Keeping your eyes on his as his hips move just a little faster. Air inhaled through your nose as a hand slips up to curl around his base.

Easing off just enough that you can jerk him into your mouth.

Your name comes out ragged, slipped into a moan. A curl of his lips over teeth, panting breath.

“Gonna make me come, honey.” It’s a warning, but your tongue only curls around the head. Waiting to taste him fully, as he groans.

Another choked breath, his head tilting back, before his cock throbs between your lips. Pulsing against your tongue, as your fist works him empty.

Your eyes close then. Senses narrowing down to the sounds he makes. Filthy, as his fingers tug hard enough to hurt, unconsciously rocking into the suction of your mouth with each drop that spills against your tongue.

“Fuck.” He mutters again.

Softer, this time. Fingers suddenly dropping, shifting to smooth over your cheeks. A low hiss, when you ease off him - only for your head to dip forward again. To catch the last errant drop on your tongue, as it flicks against his slit.

Desperate to keep him, like this, for just a little longer. Yours, if only for a moment.

“You wanna stay? Can make you a real breakfast.”

It slips from you, from kiss-swollen lips as your head tips up. His boxers still a mess around his thighs, your fingers still circled around him.

You’d taste like him, if he bent down to kiss you.

He shouldn’t.

He really shouldn’t.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” Frank rasps.

“I will.”

perhaps my imagining of a potential sugar x frank meet-cute??? 😁💖 thank you for reading!!

[bomber-grl]

Cuddle/Sleep Headcanons 💤🌙

Pairing(s): characters x Gn!reader

Character(s): Percy, Jason, Leo, Frank, Hazel, Annabeth, Piper, Calypso, Ethan, Nico, Octavian, Reyna

Percy Jackson

He’s a horrible sleeper

I mean sure, you can sleep and cuddle like the couple you are

However, that doesn’t stop him from sleeping wildly

Limbs sprawled all over the freaking place and the only reason you know is because of the concerning amount of times you’ve woken up under some of them

To make it worse?

He’s a blanket hogger

He doesn’t rlly hog it in the sense that he steals it all

I mean he does, but he sorta just slides off the bed and takes the rest of the blanket with him

The urge to just 🔫

But yea 😞

Nice to cuddle with but not to sleep with sorry not sorry

6/10

Jason Grace

Kinda stiff ngl

Like damn bitch, you live like this?

Plus he sleeps on his back face up 😭😭😭

Like wtf Jason

Are u ok?

In terms of actually cuddling, he’s pretty good

His arms are firm and his hugs are tight yet comforting

Plus he smells pretty good

Like no joke

I’d kinda see you sleeping on his chest since bro sleeps on his back

It’s nice but the stiffness is not appreciated 🙅

Atleast he’s not a blanket hogger and he’s quite considerate with the blankets and stuff

So

8/10

Leo Valdez

He sleeps two different ways

The first way is pretty compacted

What I mean is, he sleeps he sleeps bundled up by the blanket in a blanket burrito

The other one is where he sleeps sprawled out, limbs all over the place, blanket discarded

Just like Percy

So when he’s in a blanket burrito best believe he’s taking you with him

He usually does this during winter because he naturally runs hot

Anyway, he pulls you in and kinda bundled the blanket around you two for you guys to cuddle and be as close as possible

But when he’s sprawled out with his limbs everywhere he likes to cuddle with you on top of him

That or you’re abused and crushed by him in your sleep

Plus yknow how he runs hot? Well it’s absolute hell

It’s so hot and honestly suffocating when he’s sleeping on you 💀

Throw him on the ground pls

Ima rate him a 7/10 cuz he ain’t bad and if anything I love him so 🤷

Frank Zhang

He’s the best

Sorta…

He’s obviously huge so

He fully embraces you and hugs you so it’s pretty comfortable

And he sleeps on his side or stomach so there’s plenty of room

Even if he’s a bit stiff he’s still pretty nice to cuddle with

He’s pretty considerate on how you like to sleep/cuddle

He likes holding you so he’s not that picky

Honestly nothing to complain about with him

Except for one thing…

You can’t tell me this guy doesn’t fart 😐

I’m sorry but he just gives me those vibes

And it’s so bad

And not even on purpose either

It just happens but it’s the most traumatic thing ever

He feels pretty bad too 😭

Also when y’all are sleeping you just end up on different sides of the bed

He’s just casually on top of the blanket and you can’t even pull it from under him

You’re left shivering in the cold

Hazel Levesque

I love her 🫶

I see her sleeping on her sides and stomach tbh

She’s so sweet too

She loves to cuddle with you and even tho she doesn’t rlly have a firm grip she still likes to hold you

She especially likes to sleep on you

Either on your chest or just cuddled up to you

And she smells pretty sweet

Like clean laundry too like lawd

But ofc there’s gotta be some downsides

There’s isn’t really none with her, but with you

You end up stealing the blankets and hazel wakes up mad and cranky

That’s all and she quickly forgives you

Annabeth Chase

Sleeps on her back or side

She doesn’t really like cuddling all that much

She prefers to have some space and stuff when she sleeps

But if you want, she’s open to cuddling

She loves to both be held and to hold you

Mostly it’s mutual holding

Plus she probably sleeps with the fan on

Idk how to explain it

If you’re the type to always talk during night time then she’d react differently

Like if you gotta sleep asap cuz of the mission and all you do is yap

Then she’s turning her back on you and ignoring

What a meanie

At least she apologizes the next day but still

I don’t rlly see her stealing the blanket or anything but she is pretty stiff

Like besides hugging and stuff she lowkey just lets you hug her when she doesn’t feel like moving

Mood

Also since she smells good ofc ur gon sniff and she’ll be weirded out and ignore u this way too 😞

Piper McLean

She sleeps anyway tbh

She pretty cuddly and likes to snuggle w you

She usually likes to be held, but either way is fine

Especially after a fight or exhausting time with monsters

She’ll hold you in her arms too

She smells pretty nice and if you say so?

Well she finds it endearing

Unlike a certain someone

*cough cough* annabeth

But yea she’s the best

But she won’t hesitate to kick you out if you refuse to share the blanket

She gets enough crap from Leo

Who is just constantly annoying her

Calypso

The best

Like she fr loves to cuddle

With everything she’s been through best believe she’s the best cuddler

Honestly she sleeps whatever way

She’s another who loves to be held and to hold others

Especially if you’re hurt or anything

Then she’s try and tend to you

Even in sleep

Most times she’s a small spoon

She’s loved so many people who never loved her back

So perhaps she’s just a tad bit touch starved

And would obviously give in to any affection

As previously mentioned she loves to hold you too

Mostly just having you lean on her shoulder or lay on her lap but it also extends to cuddling on occasion

She’ll have you lay on her chest and in her arms and play with your hair

Ethan Nakamura

He’s so stiff it’s painful

(Not actually)

He’s definitely loyal, the books show that much

So despite his personal feelings with touch (he’s no doubt another touch starved person) he’d like to cuddle with you nonetheless

Not much in the beginning but he’d definitely warm up to you

And in the process, realize how much he wants it

He’ll let you love him however you want (cuddle him) and let you play with his hair

Which he loves

Eventually he gets enough courage to reciprocate

But he’s still stiff

Not the best when hugging or cuddling you because of how flustered he gets

Once you two go to bed and he falls asleep, he gets pretty subconsciously protective so he’ll hold you tight

Nico Di Angelo

Yes

Just yes

He loves to cuddle never made it obvious before tho

Another who was pretty stiff and touch starved

He gets over it quickly when he sees what you have to offer

I mean usually he just sleeps bundled up under the blankets, engulfed by their warmth

But with you there he just pulls you under the blankets with him so you can cuddle that way

Is mostly just mutual holding

He mostly just liked to intertwine your legs or hold onto you like a koala

I see him as a blanket stealer when you’re not glued together

He’s either super sleepy or not at all

When he’s tired he just drags you to bed, since that’s the only time nightmares don’t plague him

But when hes suffering from his insomnia he likes it when you stay up and talk with him

Idk to him it feels intimate but if you choose to go to bed, he won’t take it personally

If you play with his hair he won’t admit it but he loves it

Octavian

Ew.

Sorry I hate him but seeing that you’re here, you probs love him

So let’s get this over w

He’s rlly long and lanky and boney

Doesn’t stop yall from cuddling tho ig

And like a weirdo he sleeps on his back, arms to his side, head facing upward

Honestly probably obsessed with you

Only way he’d cuddle/ be in a relationship with you

He’s probably never been touched by another person

So he definitely likes to be held

Plus the bastard is selfish

And he doesn’t hold you

😐…

Yea so 1/10

I’m being generous

Reyna Ramirez-Arellano

I love her 😭🫶🫶

Yea she probs love you so ofc she’s gonna cuddle w u

Often times she’s busy with the duties of praetor so she can’t cuddle 😞

But it’s ok cuz when she can it’s the best

Not only is she holding you and making you feel cared after

But she also plays with your hair

Also you have to hold her

I don’t make the rules, just look at her, she needs it

When you do she’s a bit put off

But eventually she lets you coddle her

So more often than not she’s little spoon and comfortable

Just like she deserves

Yes beautiful

9/10

————————-

Note: I just realized Reyna is a hunter now idk why I even wrote hers 😭 maybe pre-hunter Reyna??? Idk man

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

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 🫠

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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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.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[life-imitates-art-far-more]

Frank Weston Benson (1862-1951) "Summer" (1890) Oil on canvas Impressionism Located in the Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC, United States

[tulsajesusfrk]

girl you know you’re lost, lost in the thrill of it all

[dreamtofus]

I just want to thank anyone and everyone who writes fanfic

like wdym this masterpiece is FREE

ps reblog ur fav fics.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Drunk on You

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader 

summary: After losing a bet, Frank's drunk night turns into a nightmare when he accidentally leaves a VERY honest voicemail on your phone. (Prompt: "I need to see your phone.")

warnings: swearing, excessive drinking (do NOT do this.), Frank being affectionate

a/n: This wasn't requested by anyone, I just saw this prompt and immediately pictured Frank freaking out about a voicemail he left on someone's phone. A huge shout out to @gracethyomen and @madschiavelique who I forced into beta-ing this for me multiple times. As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated. Thank you!

w/c: 6k (Yah, i know. I got carried away.)

Frank liked to think that he was decently romantic—so it was almost embarrassing that your relationship happened by accident. 

He didn’t possess a natural charm, like the one that Red always flaunted, but he could usually hold his own when he found someone attractive. Before…everything, his cocky attitude and unjustified youthful arrogance helped him flirt with Maria. Since the loss of his family, flirting was more of a pastime. Until you. 

From the moment you both met, Frank had known that you were different—that you were never meant to be a casual fling. It terrified him, at first, but after many many lectures from Curtis, he was ready to try a relationship again. 

Despite that fact, he could never seem to get the words out. 

Flirting with you was as easy as pulling a trigger, but being honest and open about his feelings? Never his strong suit. He was just thankful that Curtis believed in boundaries and David was oblivious, otherwise you would’ve gotten the news through the grapevine weeks before he blurted it out. 

It all started when David scolded him.

“Language, Castle. This is a family establishment.” His stern tone was completed with a pointed finger.

The two men were seated on opposite sides of the Lieberman’s sturdy dining room table, on the precipice of one of their classic “Family Dinner Spats”–a term Curtis had coined exasperatedly a few weekly meals ago. You, Sarah, and Curt were also currently at the table, nursing your wine while the kids played video games in the living room.

Smirking at David's tone, you raised a brow at the curly haired man. “Can you really call your suburban house an ‘establishment’?”

Frank chuckled at your attempt to defend him, his lips parting around the lip of his beer bottle in a smug smile.

“The house has been established, and there is a family present.” David snapped at you with a no-nonsense look. Looking at his wife incredulously, he threw his hands in a vague gesture. “C’mon Sarah, back me up!”

Sarah shrugged at him, grinning at his defeated groan. Shooting you and Frank a knowing look, she murmured, “We’ve all heard worse.“

Desperate for someone to agree with him, David glanced across the table pleadingly. “Curtis? C’mon man.”

Sighing, Curtis nodded, his lips twitching in a tiny smile. “You do have a foul mouth, Frank. There are children present.”

Frank scoffed, gesturing widely to the two teenagers in the other room.

Crinkling your nose as you stifled a laugh, you nodded solemnly. “They sort of have a point, Frank. Your vocabulary could make a sailor blush.”

Finally vindicated, David crowed, “You practically only speak in curses and grunts!”

The marine gaped. “Christ, I am not that bad.”

Smelling a game, David’s eyes glinted with mischief. “Oh yah? I bet you couldn’t go a week without swearing.

Sarah and Curtis took the vague challenge, and Frank’s responding bitter laugh, as their cue to leave the table, murmuring about cleaning up after dinner and chuckling to each other as they left. You, unfortunately, were far too intrigued to remove yourself from the conversation.

Good thing you were entertained, because David was far from finished with his accusations. “You know what? I don’t think you could even last a single day without that sinfully filthy language of yours, Castle.”

Frank rolled his eyes, but his jaw was tense. “Ya gonna make me a swear jar, Lieberman? What are you, my ma?”

David shrugged, pleased at how easily he was able to get under the hulking man’s skin. “Someone has to teach you some manners.”

You tapped a finger on your chin, meeting David’s roguish gaze. “He’s right though, a swear jar would never compel him to change.”

David crossed his arms. “And you have a better suggestion?”

Frank glanced at you, brow raised in curiosity, lips pursed.

You grinned manically. “Maybe a drinking game? Every curse word he says within 24 hours means he takes a shot.”

The technician erupted in bellowing laughter. “YES!”

Ignoring him, Frank smirked at you. “Tryin’ to get me drunk, sweetheart?”

You placed a hand over your heart in mock surprise. “Don’t tell me you’re chicken, Frankie.”

The large man bristled, straightening his posture as he shook his head. “Course not.”

David was glowing. “So you accept?”

“Uh—“ Frank’s hesitation was quickly settled by your adorable expression, your head tilted at him as you anticipated his next move. “Fuck, I guess.”

Practically screeching, David pointed a finger at the man, looking at you excitedly. “Oh my god, that counts right? That totally counts!”

Laughing as David practically began a victory dance, you raised your glass of wine. ”Let the game begin!”

What had he gotten himself into?

Unfortunately for his liver, the next 24 hours did not get easier.

With the combined efforts of you, Curtis, David, and the various CCTV systems of New York city, the tally landed at 52 curses in 24 hours.

“Holy shit, Frank,” You gaped at the final count, turning to him with wide eyes. “Were you even trying?”

Frank glowered, sinking further into the booth next to you. “Yes.”

“Well, we’re gonna need to change these rules a bit. Otherwise, you’ll need a transplant by next week.” You frowned, eyes glowing with the light of David’s computer screen.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft now, doll.” Frank muttered, the corner of his lips lifting up against his will.

“I’m always soft on you, tough guy.”Your words were earnest, causing Frank's throat to constrict. You raised a hand to pinch his cheek, seemingly unperturbed by his furious blush.

As if knowing he was ruining the moment, David returned to the table with a tray of half a dozen shot glasses. “Who’s ready to get wasted?”

Groaning, Frank dropped his head into his hands—his stomach already churning.

“New rules:” You announced, “No more than 7 drinks an hour.”

“Woah woah woah, who died and made you referee?” David scoffed.

“Everyone who has ever taken 52 shots in one night.” You retorted, refusing to change your mind.

While David began placing a row of tiny glasses in front of him, you took one of Frank's calloused hands in your much more delicate one. He raised his head to meet your serious gaze. “Hey, you do not have to do this. It was a stupid bet.” You were chewing on your bottom lip, his hand itched to cup your face and smooth the furrow in your brow.

“Um, he does so have to do this! I already put my card down. Drink up, asshole!” As David shoved the alcohol towards him, your arm shot out, acting as a barricade.

Looking at him with an inquisitive concern, you stroked your thumb over his knuckles. With a sigh, Frank grasped one of the shots between two fingers, downing it with a grimace.

David cheered. “Thattaboy! Drink up!!”

Biting your lip, you slid a single shot towards yourself and one to David. “If he’s going to do this, he’s not doing it alone. Drink up, Lieberman.” You teased, parroting his words before downing your own shot with a grace that was shocking and incredibly attractive. 

“Damn, that’s smooth. You shelled out for us.” You snorted, setting the shit glass back on the sticky table. 

Pouting at the tiny cup of clear liquid, David groaned. “I haven’t had tequila since college.”

“Sounds like you made a poor choice of beverage then. Drink!” You grinned at him, face warming as Frank slid an arm around your shoulders.

“She’s gotta point, Lieberman. You’ve dug your own grave. I ain’t drinkin’ another drop until you take that.” Frank smirked, eyes dancing with a mirth that you’d been missing.

“C’mon David!” You encouraged, the curly-haired man across from you finally nodding and downing the drink with a gag.

You and Frank cheered, laughing as he coughed in the aftermath.

“Alright, it’s gone. Your turn.” David nodded to the three remaining shots, crossing his arms impatiently.

Huffing out a breath, Frank tossed all three back, chasing the acrid taste with a swig of the beer he’d purchased himself without thinking. “There, ya fuckin’ happy now?”

“Thrilled.” David laughed. “We’re going to wait…15 minutes, and then I’m going to hustle you in pool.” Setting a timer on his watch, the engineer missed Frank’s exaggerated eye roll.

“Doesn’t a hustle require one party to not know they’re being hustled?” You asked, settling into Frank’s side with a smile.

“I could kick your ass with my eyes closed, Lieberman.” Frank snorted.

“Oh please, it's all geometry–I'm a whiz at geometry.”

Listening to them bicker, you couldn't help but smile. Sipping your beer, you crossed your legs, excited for the upcoming show.

As Frank's inhibitions grew steadily lower, you were joined at the booth by Curtis and Karen–both of whom were humored by the giant man's state, but not free of their own worry.

“Y’all trying to kill him?” Curtis chuckled, eyes focused on Frank's uncharacteristically wide grin as he slid into the booth across from you, beer in hand.

“Trust me, I’ve been negotiating Lieberman down all night to spare his intestines.” You huffed, your own gaze fixated on Frank as he lined up his next shot at the pool table, muscles bulging against his tight shirt as he bent over.

“See something you like?” Karen asked gleefully, lips curled in a smirk.

“Shut up,” You hissed, squirming in your seat as your body was hit with a flash of warmth.

“He's not making this easy for you, is he?” Curtis chuckled, sending Karen a knowing look.

“Does he always get so…touchy when he’s drunk?” You asked quietly, trying not to salivate as you got a perfect view of Frank's ass, his back turned towards you as he played his next turn.

Letting out a bark of laughter, Curtis shook his head at you.

“Oh stop it,” You groused, ignoring your friends' giggles as you slid off of the vinyl bench and made straight for the bar.

“Um whiskey. Neat, please.” You stammered out your order to the bartender, trying not to cringe at how disjointed the words sounded. Your mind was entirely preoccupied by the feelings you harbored for the man currently guffawing behind you. The scraping of glass on wood startled you out of your daydream.

Taking the glass from the bartender, trying not to meet their gaze as they eyed you suspiciously, you nodded a thank you.

Before you could return to your seat, a thick arm wrapped around your shoulders--a sensation that would've been horrifying had it not been accompanied by a familiar voice.

“When did ya start drinkin’ whiskey?” Frank's deep rasp ignited a heat deep in your gut, stealing the words straight off your tongue.

”I-I, uh didn't,“ You squeaked out, shoving the glass to Frank's chest. “I figured you’d want something other than mid-shelf tequila.” Looking up at him through thick lashes, your breath caught in your throat as you met his stare.

Frank's lips were tilted in a small smile, the tension he normally carried in his jaw nowhere to be found. His cheeks were flushed, his hair mussed from running his hands through it throughout the night. Boring into you, his beautiful ochre eyes crinkled with a happiness you rarely saw from the man.

A rough knuckle tipped your jaw upwards, shutting your mouth, which had apparently been hanging open as you admired the figure before you. “Somethin' on my face, sweetheart?”

Tilting his head, his eyes twinkled, his smile growing wider as you remained silent. “No, Frankie.”

“Good. C'mon, I need someone to cheer for me when I whup Lieberman's ass for a third time.” Frank snorted, pressing a kiss to your crown before taking your hand and dragging you towards the pool table.

The rest of the night flew by, a symptom of the intense focus you held on Frank's relaxed drunken nature. He'd been tipsy with you before, so you'd caught glimpses of this behavior from the man previously, but it would always catch you off guard to see him so...easygoing.

It wasn't that Frank wasn't affectionate, he was incredibly sweet, he just wasn't usually so forthcoming with his emotions. Nor was he normally content snuggling with you in public.

Rubbing his nose against your hair, Frank gave a sleepy hum before pulling back to down the rest of the ice water you'd forced into his grasp. His hand was gently gripping your waist, thumb tracing lines over your hip as your friends chatted. Frank was much too tired to be paying any attention, and your ability to retain any conversation topic flew out the window the moment his hand landed on your side.

Watching as his free hand lifted to clumsily scrub at his face, you frowned. “Wanna call it a night, Frank? You look ready to drop.”

“'M fine.” He grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Shit, you'd hoped the water would stave off the impending headache for now.

“The kid's right.” David remarked, smirking at your offended scoff. “If I'm beat, you must be half dead. I'll go close the tab."

"Can the rest of you make it home ok if I handle this one?" You asked, kneading at Frank's neck as he dropped his head to your shoulder with a grumpy huff.

"Yah, we can get David home in one piece." Karen promised, squeezing Frank's arm as she passed. "Goodnight."

"Ok, tough guy. You gotta get out so I can get out," You murmured, nudging the marine as carefully as possible.

Grumbling under his breath, he slid out of the booth, grabbing the table as he listed sideways.

"Christ, Frankie. Hold on, I gotcha." You grunted as he leaned against you, his weight shifting you off balance. Wrapping an arm around his waist in a motion similar to the one he'd made mere minutes ago, you shuffled towards the door. "Ok, Castle, you gotta work with me a little bit here."

As the two of you neared the exit, you heard an indignant squawk from the bar. "I OWE HOW MUCH??"

Chuckling softly, Frank's skull knocked against yours. "We'd better get outta here, sweetheart."

The two of you made it back to Frank's tiny apartment without incident, though the man was stumbling all the way. When you reached his front door, he snatched his keys from his pocket, tossing them at you without a word. 

Not expecting the projectile, the ring of keys hit you square in the chest, your chin following them as they crashed to the grimy carpet underneath your feet. Looking at Frank with narrowed eyes, you raised an eyebrow. “Was that really necessary?”

Frank chuckled quietly, his laugh as close to a giggle as it would probably ever get. His half-lidded eyes creased as he grinned at you. “Sorry,” The apology was undercut by the shit-eating expression on his face. 

“Drag your ass all the way home, breaking my back doing so–mind you,” You complained halfheartedly, your chest swelling with fondness as Frank’s raspy laughs continued. “And you just throw your shit at me.” 

Shaking your head, you let your smile betray you as he kissed your forehead. “You’re unbelievable, Castle.” 

“Thanks for puttin’ up with me.” His stubble scratched your skin as he spoke, his lips still resting against your temple. 

“Anytime, big guy.” Your eyes fell closed as his hand rubbed over your lower back.

After a minute, Frank spoke again. “Are ya gonna open the door, or am I gonna have to sleep in the hallway?” 

“Jesus Christ.” You groused, breaking out of his hold to squat down and grab his keys.

Just like that, Frank was back in stitches, shifting his weight to the door frame as his body shook with near silent laughter.

Shoving the key in the lock, you opened the door and shoved at him gently. "Get in there, goofball."

Shuffling inside, Frank beelined for the couch, collapsing onto it with his boots still on. Rolling your eyes, you followed him in, crouching by his feet to start unlacing his shoes.

Wriggling on his stomach, he craned his neck to look at you. “Whattya doin'?”

“Taking your shoes off, Frankie.” You explained without stopping your actions.

Grumbling, he flapped an arm at you clumsily. “Leave 'em.”

Huffing with exasperated affection, you ignored him. "You'll be more comfortable if I take them off, Frank."

You received a disgruntled noise in response, but his arm stopped moving. Face squashed against a throw pillow, his eyes were closed and his pink lips were parted--soft breaths slipping in and out of them every so often.

Finally pulling his second boot off, you sat back on your heels with a satisfied sigh. Standing as quietly as you could, you strode to the tidy kitchen.

Given that you were well-acquainted with Frank's place, you moved around the apartment with ease, finding the sparse first aid kit that he possessed and making a mental note to bring some supplies by soon. Sure, Frank would manage—he was the most capable man you'd ever met—but you wanted to make his life easier in any way you could.

Which is why you grabbed a few individually wrapped pain pills and placed them on the coffee table, along with a glass of water. Now for the difficult part.

"Frank, I know you're comfy like this but you have to turn to your side for me." You spoke softly, running a hand up his arm and pushing in the direction he needed to turn.

"Hngh..." Frank protested sleepily. "Why?"

Stifling a smile at the grumpy face he made, you continued to push. "C'mon, you big baby. On your side, so you don't choke and die overnight."

Huffing frustratedly, Frank flopped onto his side, glaring at you.

“Thank you. Do you need a blanket?” You asked, laughing indignantly when he flipped you off. “That was an actual question, asshole.”

Standing up, you took a step towards the worn armchair on the other side of the coffee table, nearly tumbling over when a force tugged on your wrist. Eyes closed again, Frank was poorly hiding a smile as he yanked your arm towards him with more strength than his inebriated self should have been capable of. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you feeling nice now?” You grumbled, balancing your weight over him precariously as you tried to escape his hold.

Tugging your arm again, Frank muttered a jumble of grouchy nonsense.

“Christ, Frank.” You snorted, rolling your eyes to the ceiling before sliding your palms underneath his shoulders to shift him over. Squishing onto the couch next to his head, you found yourself smiling as he wriggled towards you, settling his head into your lap with a relieved exhale. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a piece of work when you’re drunk?”

Your murmur was more for yourself than for him, but he responded nonetheless. “M’ria.”

It was far from the first time he’d spoken to you about his late wife, but hearing her name fall from his lips when he was in such a vulnerable state felt like a swift punch to the gut. Regaining your composure, you threaded your fingers into his hair. “Go to sleep, Frankie.”

As your nails softly scratched at his scalp, darkness crept into the corners of his vision, his eyes fluttering closed again.

The next few hours passed like fractions of a dream. A warm pliant surface beneath his cheek, a cool hand running through his hair. A whispered conversation and hushed groans. A loss of contact.

Somewhere in the haze of alcohol-induced fatigue, Curtis appeared, taking over your role as his babysitter. Curt was good at taking care of him...he was a lot less pretty than you were, though.

“Christ, I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that.” Curtis griped, insulted by comment Frank hadn't intended to share, shoving a bottle of some form of sports drink at him. “Drink this.”

Scowling, Frank took a long swig. As he was gulping down the sugary liquid, his eyes locked on a piece of fabric draped over the back of the couch. Setting the drink down, and nearly spilling it all over himself in the process, he grabbed clumsily for the coat, clutching it to his chest when his fingers finally landed around it. ”She forgot it.“

”What?“ Curtis, rubbing a knuckle between his brows, looked unamused.

”Her coat, Curt.“ Frank whispered, holding it out to show the other man. ”We gotta find her. She forgot it. It's winter.“

Shaking his head with a huff, Curtis dropped his head into his hands. ”I'm sure she'll be fine without it for a night. Go to sleep, Frank.“

Frank frowned, still focused on the piece of plastic in his hands.

Grappling his pocket, he eventually pulled out his phone and flipped it open, squinting at the bright screen as it powered on. Scrolling through the list of contacts, he found the one he wanted and dialed.

”Frank,“ Curtis sighed, but didn't stop him from calling you.

Receiving your voicemail, Frank groaned. “Sweetheart, you better not be frozen to death out there somewhere. You left your coat here. You gotta come and get it, ok? I don't want you to be cold.”

”Hang up and sleep, Castle.“ Called the medic from Frank's bedroom. When had he gone in there?

Ignoring his friend's explicit instructions, Frank sighed. “Please come back. I like having you here. You just...you take such good care of me, and I really don't deserve it, but you do it anyways, and--” The phone was snatched out of his hand.

“Frank says goodnight.” Curtis snapped into the phone before ending the call.

“Hey!” Frank glowered, fumbling for Curtis's hand to take the device back.

“Go to sleep, Frank. You can talk to her tomorrow. Trust me, you'll be grateful I took this away when you've sobered up. You don't need to be spilling your secrets to her over voicemail.“ Spreading a blanket over Frank, Curtis glared at him. ”Close your eyes, Marine. I am not playing games with you tonight.“

Rolling to his other side so that Curtis couldn't see him, he smirked at the other man's final snort. ”Real mature, Frank. I'm taking your bed. I'll be out to check on you every once in a while.“

As Curtis retreated into the other room, Frank waited impatiently, staring at the back of the couch until he heard a door close. Grinning in satisfaction, he withdrew his burner phone from his other pocket, opening it up and inputting your number.

“Sorry, Curt hung up the phone. I wasn't done talking to ya. I like talkin' to ya, it makes me feel...god, I'm bad at this. I dunno, sweetheart, you make me feel good...special. I haven't felt that way in a long damn time. But you just make it seem so easy. You make everything seem so easy...”

The intense rolling of his stomach is what ruptured his unconsciousness, igniting a spark of adrenaline powerful enough to carry him to the bathroom so he could collapse in front of the toilet.

God, he felt fucking awful. His head was pulsing with the beginnings of a migraine, his throat burned with acid as he emptied his stomach repeatedly. Moaning with regret, he slapped the lever to flush the toilet, sinking back against the cool porcelain of the bathtub behind him.

“Was wondering when that would happen. David owes me 20 bucks.” Curtis leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom with his arms crossed, smirking at Frank's evident misery.

“Glad I could help.” Frank muttered, digging the heel of his hand into one of his eyes in an attempt to offset some of the building pressure in his skull.

“You look like shit.” Curtis chuckled, passing him a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers.

“Fuck off.” Frank grumbled, rinsing out his mouth before throwing back a few pills.

“Well, clearly you're feeling more like yourself. Christ.” Curtis snorted.

“God, Curt, what happened last night?” Frank grimaced. 

“Besides you drinking enough to kill a racehorse? Not much. Unless you count me discovering your collection of burner phones as ‘interesting’.”

Curtis’s words were innocuous, but Frank felt a wave of dread crash over him at the implications. 

“What collection?“ He asked mournfully, hoping fiercely that Curt didn’t mean–

“The one you were using to call your girl.” Fuck. “Every time I turned around, there was a new phone in your hands. Can't say I didn't try to stop you from making an ass of yourself, you just managed to do it anyway.”

“Fuck!” Frank cursed. That was exactly what he was hoping to avoid. “Please tell me you're jokin'.”

“Unfortunately not, Frank.“ The other man laughed, but his brow pinched in sympathy. “You're gonna have some explaining to do, I expect.”

“Fuck me. What did I say?” He looked to his friend pleadingly, feeling like his impending doom was perched just over his shoulders.

“I didn't catch all of it, but the parts I heard were pretty damning.” Curtis rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Frank’s intense eyes.

Mustering the dwindling energy he had, Frank lurched to his feet, stumbling towards the door. Thankfully, Curtis caught him when his balance faltered after a few steps.

“Woah, shit, Frank! Where are you goin'?” Curtis chastised preemptively, letting Frank lean against him as he ambled to the foyer.

“To apologize, or delete that message. Whatever needs to be done.” Frank’s jaw was stiff, his voice gruff with fear and discomfort. Undraping his arm from Curt’s shoulders, Frank bent down to grab his boots, halting as the motion caused a spike of pain to shoot through his brain. Clenching his fingers around his thighs, he bit his tongue to keep from hurling again.

“Jesus, Frank. This isn't a goddamn military operation.” Curt scoffed, kicking Frank’s shoes closer to him with a grunt.

Frank huffed a bitter laugh. “You're right, that would be easier.” Squatting down, Frank shoved his boots on and laced them up.

“You need serious help, you know that?” Curtis sighed, only waiting a moment before slipping his own shoes on. “C'mon. I'll drive you.”

Tipping your chin up, you let the final dregs of your latte trickle across your tongue, silently begging for those few drops to contain the caffeine you'd need for the rest of the day. You were practically giddy with lack of sleep and the immense amount of sugar you'd dumped into the coffee to make it palatable–you weren't used to so many extra espresso shots.

After looking out for Frank at the bar, wrangling him on the journey home, leaving abruptly to accompany your distraught roommate and her accident-prone boyfriend to the hospital, and then staying with said roommate all night while her boyfriend got a cast put over his broken arm–you were understandably exhausted. And, if you were honest with yourself, a bit aggravated that you'd been ripped away from Frank when he was so unusually receptive to your affection.

It wasn't as if you could just call Curtis and ask to switch roles again, it was almost noon. Frank would probably be up and hungover by now–far grouchier than the cuddly lump he'd become last night when he passed out on your lap. No use to mourn that loss any further, you supposed. It wouldn't be that hard to make him agree to another bet, after all. 

Lounging on the couch, your eyes slipped shut for a moment, flying open in shock when you heard a knock at the door. Of course someone would show up right after you sat down. Inhaling deeply to keep from groaning, you dragged yourself off of the couch and to the door. Huh, speak of the devil.

Unlatching the door, you rested a hand on your hip as you took in the posture of the man before you. Frank looked awful, a perfect example of the saying “green around the gills”. He was slouched forward, barely meeting your gaze, and his complexion was so alarmingly pale that it was more translucent. Before you could ask what the hell he was doing on your doorstep, he spoke.

“I need to see your phone.” His tone was pained and especially gravelly, which made sense given how hungover he must be right now.

“Damn, Castle. Hello to you too.” You laughed, the humor of it not fully reaching your eyes as concern churned in your gut. Stepping out of the way, you allowed him to stride past you into the apartment. 

Looking over his shoulder at you sheepishly, he cringed. “Sorry, hi. Your phone?”

Well he’s clearly on a mission. You had to admit, you were curious what he was so riled up about. 

Your eyes narrowing, you gestured to where it sat on the counter, anchored by its designated cord. “It's charging. It died while I was running around last night and I just got home, so.” Frowning in confusion, you picked it up to show him. 

“Thank god.” Frank let his face fall into his palms, collapsing onto your couch. 

“Why do you need my phone, Frank?” Intrigue still piqued, you flicked a thumb across the screen to activate your phone.

Realizing he’d made a fatal error in his anguished haze, Frank swiveling in his seat, craning his neck just in time to see a massive grin break out across your face. “Shit wait–”

“Jesus Frank, are you ok? Why did you call me so many times?” You laughed, scrolling through the myriad of notifications you’d apparently missed from him. 

“Sweetheart I'm begging you–” Standing on his wobbly legs, he hurried to remove the device from your hands, but it was too late.

“You left multiple voicemails?” You looked at him with an almost pompous smile, clearly taking satisfaction in his downfall.

“Please don’t–” He made for your phone, but his reflexes were lacking. Spinning just out of his reach, you raised the phone above your head victoriously.

“Voicemail number one!” You announced proudly, pressing play on the recording. 

Frank’s voice sounded tinny through the small speakers, or maybe it was just being drowned out by the ringing in his ears. “You forgot your coat…”

“Aw, Frank, that's so sweet!” You spoke over the short message, your lip sticking out slightly as you looked at him with gratitude.

Stepping towards you with his palms displayed, he tried for a placating tone. “Yup. That was all, no need to listen to any more of–”

“Voicemail number 2!” You crowed, darting out of the kitchen as he grabbed wildly for the offending phone once more. 

“Sorry, Curt hung up the phone...”

“This ain't funny.” Frank growled, scurrying after you into the living room “Turn those off!” 

“You left them for me!” You giggled, holding the phone to your ear and squealing with delight at his first confession.

“You make everything seem so easy–”

“Aw, Frank–”

“It's so hard for me to focus when you're around–”

By the grace of some higher power, his drunk rambling cut off. Nearly keeling over, he leaned heavily against the back of your couch. “Thank Christ.”

“VOICEMAIL NUMBER 3!” You said gleefully, practically dancing with joy as Frank resumed chasing you.

“Goddamn it.” He muttered. He should have known he wasn’t that lucky.

“I can't stop thinkin' about ya–”

His words were coming back to him now, and it was crystal clear that he had very limited time to retrieve the phone before your relationship with him was irreparably damaged. Nearly bowling your coffee table over, he managed to snatch the hem of your sweatshirt, but you simply slipped out of it and resumed your lap of the space. 

“I can never stop thinkin about ya–”

You leapt onto the couch and over the arm, making for your bedroom. How on earth were you this agile after last night? He was pretty sure this would be the last thing he ever did. 

“I hope you made it home safe–”

You stumbled around your bed frame and Frank saw an opening. 

“You shoulda stayed here with me–”

His eyes narrowed, vision tunneling like a predator’s. Frank bounded forward and your eyes widened as you realized he had you cornered.

“I'll always keep you safe–”

Finally, he arrived within the distance he needed, snatching you by the waist and spinning you into him. Your chests were pressed together, quivering with the force of labored breaths, but before he could hit the power button– 

“Cause, I dunno, I just love ya, sweetheart. I'd never let anythin' happen to ya.”

His world blurred, his heart pounding so aggressively it felt like it was creeping out of his rib cage. It was done. It was over.

Panting, you looked up at him with a furrowed brow. His heart sank as he watched the realization crawl across your face. 

“You...you love me?” You asked meekly as Frank took a step away from you.

His entire body felt like it was on fire, he couldn’t decide whether he needed to scream or be sick. An apology roosted on his tongue, but his mouth was too dry for the words to come out.

“You love me.” You murmured, looking at the phone as if it would explain his words for you.

“I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinkin'–” He choked out, scrambling backwards sloppily so that he wouldn’t witness your pity.

“Frank–” You spoke softly, the sympathetic edge to your words cutting his composure like a blade.

“Christ, I'll just go, I'm sorry–” He whispered, his throat tightening with immense regret.

“Frank” Your fingers suddenly wrapped around his wrist, turning him back to face you. He inhaled deeply, bracing himself for the rejection and subsequent loss of connection that he’d stupidly caused. But it never came. 

Instead, your free hand cupped his neck, pulling his lips to meet yours. His knees wavered, nearly giving out as your soft lips met his. He was bombarded with surprise and affection and relief. Pulling back from him, you rubbed a finger over his nape and smiled softly.

“I love you too.”

“You–” He was too shocked to even ask a full question. His knees finally gave out and he fell against you. 

“Woah, careful there, tough guy.” You chuckled, nudging him backwards so that he crumbled onto your mattress instead of taking you both to the ground. 

Listing sideways onto your mattress, he let you prod at his limbs until he was fully seated. Bile was swiftly rising in his throat, but whether it was from the chase or the resulting emotions, he was unsure. Swallowing roughly, he grimaced. 

Biting your lip, you let go of his wrist to stroke your blissfully cool fingers along his cheek. “Let me get you some water, ok? I’ll be right back.”

Eyes falling closed, Frank took a handful of measured breaths, lips twitching with a small smile despite his current agony. You loved him too. He had a feeling that he should be skeptical, but he was experiencing too much to consider that at the moment. For now, he would just accept this outcome, however miraculous it might seem. 

Hearing your soft footsteps back into the room, he opened his eyes–immediately regretting it when his head convulsed with a renewed stab of pain. Moaning softly, he scrunched his eyes shut, bringing his thumbs up to his brows to knead them in the hope it would lessen the ache. 

“Head bothering you?” Your voice was impossibly soft as you knelt by his side, gently prying one of his hands away from his face and pressed a cold glass into it. 

“Yah. Sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to crash here.”

“Don’t you dare apologize. I already texted Curt and told him you’d be staying here for a bit.” Pulling back your sheets on the other side of the bed, you propped yourself up next to him. “Tired?”

Grumbling affirmatively, Frank tilted his head into your shoulder, rolling as far into you as he could stomach. “But we should probably–”

“We got all the time in the world, sweetheart.” You stroked his stubbled chin languidly, smirking as his expression relaxed beneath your touch. “Just sleep. After last night, we both need it.”

“God, I love you.” He murmured, throwing an arm over your hips and letting you nestle in close. 

You pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I love you too, Frank.” 

Frank made a mental reminder to buy Lieberman a beer the next time they went out. He’d never admit it to David, but he was beyond grateful that his uninhibited self had finally made a move. 

Feeling more content than he had in months, he let himself drift off to the sound of your soft breathing.

Thanks for reading!!

[bubuslutty]

probably unpopular opinion: I don't really like the "innocent reader" term used in fics. it's just the innocent part that rubs me the wrong way sometimes. because more often than not it's always a fem virgin reader being like "ohhh sex? what is that??? why are you touching me down there?? what are you doing??"

I know roleplay is a thing. I also know that acting dumb gets people going yknow. totally cool. but the use of the word innocent just rubs me the wrong way cuz I'm used to associating innocence with children. not adults. you're not innocent. you're just inexperienced. you just never had sex before. and it's OKAY.

Also lowkey using innocent in context of always fem readers getting dicked down for the first time in their lives is a lil weird cuz it's almost infantilising and perverse and yeaahhh.

I'm not saying anyone who reads x innocent reader smut is a perv. all I'm saying is just be aware of what you're reading. and to those who write x innocent reader, I don't really have anything to say cuz I know people are going to write whatever the fuck they want to write. I'm just putting my opinion out there. that's all.

[geekynerfherder]

'Girl On Saber Tooth' by Frank Frazetta.

[chvoswxtch]

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

[zomtart]

Day Off (Frank Castle x Fem!Reader)

this is inspired by the lovely Tuna Team and also because I realized I’ve never seen a fic of reader taking care of sick Frank. No established relationship in this one but LOOOOOTS of tension they’re just both too stupid to realize it :D

Content Warnings: p*king (not too descriptive), brief mention of injuries, veeeeery sick Frank, reader who matches Frank’s stubbornness <3

Word Count: 1.3k

It was your day off, and you were making the most of it. You slept in until 10am, cooked your favorite breakfast, wore your softest pajamas, and grabbed your comfort book. The sun was shining. The birds were singing. The world was at ease. 

…for about twenty minutes.

You were just about to brew your second cup of mocha when you heard the faint sound of groaning. Halting your reach for your coffee mug, the edges of your lips started to turn down as the noise continued. It seemed far away and muted. It seemed like it was…coming from next door.

You stared at the wall for a second before shaking your head. No. No! It was your day off. Frank had your number. He’d call you if he’d need you…right?

When has that ridiculous man ever asked for help?

But he only ever did his…job in the dark. And you had heard him come home last night, even checked out the door to ensure no trail of blood followed him. Surely he hadn’t gone out again. Surely he was fine. 

A loud crash erupted from the wall, so hard you could almost feel it shake in the floorboards.

Goddamnit.

You ran to the door immediately, snatching Frank’s spare key and not bothering with shoes. Stupid, stupid man. Couldn’t he stay out of trouble for one day? It wasn’t that you didn’t want to spend time with him, but you had to admit you’d much prefer spending time with him when it wasn’t stitching his wounds up.

The moment you stepped through the door you were calling out his name, looking for signs of a break-in or injury. There wasn’t any blood or weapons, but his kitchen table vase lay shattered on the floor. The sight made your stomach turn, along with the fact that he hadn’t seemed to notice you had come inside. Frank was nothing if not alert.

“Frank? Frank!” You swore under your breath, wishing you had brought your taser. “If you’re--if you’re fucking with me right now I swear to god…”

There was another groan from down the hallway and without thinking you ran down to the end of the hall and pushed open the bathroom door. 

“Frank��“

You immediately turned away at the sight of Frank kneeling over the toilet, a hand pressed over your mouth as you smelled puke. As a nurse, you unfortunately dealt with this a lot, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t gross. 

“What the hell are you doing in here?” Frank sounded mad, and you couldn’t quite blame him. However, you weren’t about to let your own anger go so easily.

“I thought you were fucking dying! God, did you hook a boombox up to your intestines?”

“Leave,” he mumbled around a groan that lacked any sort of strength, and not just because his throat was hoarse. He sounded exhausted. More exhausted than you’ve ever heard him, including when he had bullet holes in his torso. He was clearly in no state to be alone. 

You blinked. “You do know there’s a broken vase on your kitchen floor right?”

He breathed your name, exhaling roughly through his nose. He closed the toilet and collapsed against it, letting his head hang backward. 

“I’m fine. You see I’m not dying, yeah? Now go.”

“Well you’re not far from it.” you crossed your arms. His grouchy mood would likely have turned most people away, but you knew him. Christ, you could see how much pain he was in. Sweat coated his temples, his face pale, his nose red. You knew he needed help, and a little arguing from him wasn’t going to scare you off. “Frank, you’re not fine. I don’t even think you can walk back to your bed. I’m not leaving you. Not like this.”

“I can take care of myself,” he grumbles, trying to stand up. Keyword: trying. He immediately stumbled, and you were right there to catch him. 

You grunted as his weight fell into yours, the two of you working to get him back upright. 

“Jesus—fucking—yeah. Yep, you can totally take care of yourself. Can totally stand on your own.” you shook your head, grabbing one of his arms and slinging it over your shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s just get you to bed, okay?”

He mumbled something under his breath as he began to walk out of the bathroom with your support.

“That better have been a thank you.”

Once you got him into bed, with heavy groans from the both of you, you stared at him with your hands on your hips. 

“Alright. I’m gonna…well. Do you have food in this house that I can make into soup? Or just tubs of spam?” 

He pressed a pillow over his head, and that’s when you realized how badly he was sweating. And shaking. You swore under your breath and knelt down at this side, gently removing the pillow from his face and placing a hand on his forehead. 

“You’re burning up.” you murmured. “Where do you keep the towels?”

“No.” he responded immediately, flinching away from your touch. “I’m not getting you sick. It’s your day off, for fuck’s sake.”

“You’re not going to g--how did you know that?”

“You told me,” he said nonchalantly, swallowing around a sore throat with a wince.

You blinked, recalling that you mentioned how you finally got a day off…but you could have sworn you told him that a week ago. Did he really remember that?

“I’m not going to sit here and give you whatever the hell I have.” he said roughly. “Just leave.”

“Did you hear me the first time?” you placed your hands on your hips. “I said no. You’re in no condition to be by yourself. I’m a nurse. I know when someone needs help. If I have to force you to accept that help, then so be it. Where do you keep your towels?”

There was a long bout of silence where you both stared at each other, the tension of your conjoined stubbornness almost tangible in the air. When he realized you weren’t going to give in, almost at the same time you realized he was finally too tired to fight you back on this, he sighed loudly. 

“Bathroom. Third drawer to the left.”

You huffed and started walking past him. “Thank you. Was that so difficult?”

“You’re a real pain in my ass, you know that?” 

“Another weird way of saying thank you…” you trailed off as you grabbed a washcloth and soaked it with lukewarm water.

“You never listen to anything I…say…” Frank’s arguing ceased as you pressed the washcloth to his forehead, and he just about melted in your hands. “Fuck…” 

“Feels nice, huh?” you smiled a little, feeling that familiar warmth you always got when you got to take care of people. Or Frank, specifically. You weren’t sure when that feeling had tailored to him exclusively. 

“Yeah, yeah…” his eyes drooped shut and he leaned against the towel, the edge of his cheek sinking into your palm. With your other hand, you brushed some of his sweaty hair away from his forehead. He hummed lowly, shamelessly reaching for your hand and pressing it back to his face. Your eyebrows shot up at the show of affection, a thing he rarely gave out.

It must be the fever. 

“I’m gonna make you some soup, okay?”

“No,” he groaned. “Head hurts. Just…just stay here. Need the towel.”

“You also need to eat.”

“Will you just listen to me?”

You rolled your eyes, using your index finger to tuck some hair behind his ear. “For a few more minutes.” 

In the end, it didn’t matter. He fell asleep within moments.