#frank x fem!reader
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dollyfl1rt · 1 month ago
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warnings: smut (w/o plot), 18+ mdni, sexual contents, unprotected sex (but please wrap it up, we dont want stds), pinv
(repost, iykyk)
how your first time with frank would go
he’d be deep in you whispering sweet nothings into your ear “just like that” he teased leaning down to kiss you.
man he loved kisses, deep sensual ones..if you remembered correctly, that’s how all of this got started. you closed your eyes biting down harder on your lower lip as frank resumed his slow pace, being sure to keep you comfortable.
“you’re doing good, baby” the man moaned into your mouth as he ducked his head to plant wet little kisses just where your shoulder and neck meet.
“fuck” you spoke in a hushed tone clingy to him. he pushed himself further into you causing your legs to be resting on his shoulders “that feel good, pretty girl?” he questioned a breathy groan escaping his mouth as you nod.
you felt yourself getting more and more detached from reality “please, please fran..mmphm” you whined in his ear your arms wrapped around his neck holding him down close to you. “you feel so good wrapped around me like this” frank sighed deeply as he slowly pumped inside of you.
ultimately, you both finished leaving him drained and his voice raspier than usual. “cmon lemme clean ya up” frank smirked grabbing and repositioning your legs.
man was he talented with his tongue.
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chvoswxtch · 11 months ago
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teach me
pairing: frank castle x fem!reader
summary: you want frank to teach you self defense, but it doesn't quite go the way you expected.
warnings: swearing, some angst, mentions of guns, explicit sexual content (minors dni)
word count: 8.3k
a/n: what better way to end this year and start the new one than with our favorite hot bodyguard. don't ask me how many times I watched that scene with him and amy. it was for science. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!
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“You’re being a dick.”
“Hey, you said you wanted to learn.”
“You’re still being a dick.”
“Yeah yeah, you ain’t gettin’ no sympathy from me, sweetheart. Now c’mon, try again.”
It was a good thing the cabin was isolated in the middle of the woods, because if anyone had been looking in the living room window at that very moment, they would’ve definitely called the police in horror. Frank had a gun in his right hand that was trained on you, and while he wore a neutral expression on his face, your brows were furrowed in pure annoyance and there was a faint scowl on your lips.
Letting out a huff of irritation, you kept your eyes focused on the gun in Frank’s hand, getting back into somewhat of a fighting stance again. Clenching your hands open and closed a few times, your teeth sank down into your bottom lip before you suddenly rushed forward in an endeavor to take the gun out of his hand. 
But just like he had done the past seven times you tried this, Frank easily managed to block your attempt. He grabbed your wrist in his free hand and spun you around swiftly, pulling you back firmly against his chest while a deep chuckle sounded right next to your ear.
“That was real cute.”
Letting go of you, Frank took a step back and lightly pressed at the back of your knee with the heel of his boot, sending you down to your knees below him. He decided to take it a step further and used the toe of his boot to gently shove at your ass, causing your hands to fly out to catch yourself, rendering you on all fours in front of him. Turning to narrow your eyes at him over your shoulder, the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth let you know that was very intentional.
“You know, if you wanted me on my knees, all you had to do was ask.”
“That right?”
Grumbling a string of curses under your breath, you pushed yourself back up onto your feet and turned around to shoot a death glare in Frank’s direction. His plush lips instantly parted into a crooked grin while he looked at you, cocking his head to the side slightly while his eyes twinkled in amusement.
“Aw, what’s wrong baby, hm?”
“I already told you, you’re being a dick. You’re supposed to be teaching me-”
“Then why don’t you quit actin’ like you know everythin’ and start askin’ questions, yeah?”
“How the hell am I supposed to know what questions to ask? I asked you to teach me. Teach me means tell me what to do.”
“And when have you ever done what I told ya to?”
As you opened your mouth to protest, Frank arched one of his thick brows and shot you a pointed look, and your rebuttal quickly died on your tongue. You did have a history of ignoring his instructions completely and doing whatever you wanted anyway. With that in mind, you let out a deep exhale through your nose and crossed your arms over your chest.
“Okay, that’s…fair. But this is completely out of my area of expertise. I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never even held a gun until four days ago. And for the record, when it comes to something serious, I do listen to you. This is serious, and I’m listening.”
Originally when you asked Frank to teach you self defense with a gun, he was completely against it. He made the argument that with him around, you wouldn’t have to worry about that, to which you reminded him of the incident where two people tried to kill you in your own home where you had nothing to protect yourself with and no knowledge of how to in the first place. 
The two of you went back and forth about it for at least an hour. He made the case that it was a one time incident that would never happen again, and argued that nothing was ever going to happen to you in the first place anyway because he showed up to take care of it. You argued back that Frank wouldn’t be by your side twenty-four seven anymore and would eventually be assigned to someone else, possibly taking him far away for extended periods of time.
In the end, you wore him down like you usually did until he gave in and you got your way.
Frank took in the impatient and stubborn expression covering your features, the one he had become all too familiar with and grown to adore. You were a force to be reckoned with when you wanted something, just as much as he was. Even though he didn’t want you to ever have a reason to use a gun, he would rather know you were safe and could handle yourself in his absence if it came down to it. 
“Alright, alright. Wipe that pout off your face and c’mere.”
Doing your best to conceal your tiny smile of victory, you went to stand in front of Frank, but he held his large hand out to stop you and motioned for you to move back a little.
“Keep your distance, okay? You don’t wanna be too close. Now, step one.”
Frank reached out to grab your wrist and brought your hand up towards the barrel of the gun, placing his large hand on top of your own and squeezing gently to signal for you to grab onto it. Once he felt your tight grip on the barrel, he slid his hand over to grab onto your forearm and pushed against it, which caused the gun in his right hand to shift directions. It was no longer aimed at you, but pointed at the wall to your left.
“You wanna take the gun offline, yeah? Look.”
Glancing up at him briefly, you nodded to show him that you were paying attention. When he pulled your arm back in the position it was before, aiming the gun at you once again, you quickly redirected your focus back to his large hands. To reiterate what he was trying to explain to you, Frank repeated his demonstration two more times to make sure you understood.
“Offline, right? Offline, right? And push hard, as hard as you can.”
While Frank’s eyes were locked on you as he demonstrated the first step, you were studying his movements, committing every detail to memory. It seemed simple enough in theory so far. Keep your distance, grab the barrel of the gun, and push it away from yourself hard. When he let go of your arm, you let go of the gun, and you looked up to see that Frank was already watching you.
“Show me.”
Without hesitating, you swiftly reached out to grab the barrel of the gun and forcefully pushed it to the left. Frank let you redirect it to a certain point, and then pushed back to hold the gun in place. His strength was something you couldn’t combat, and as you kept pushing at the barrel, his resistance  made the gun almost wobble in your hands. 
“Attagirl. Easy, easy. Relax.”
Frank reached out with his left hand and grabbed onto your wrist, gently squeezing it to steady your hand.
“Alright, now step two, you go for that wrist, yeah? You get control. Go.”
Immediately you reached out with your right hand to wrap your fingers around Frank’s wrist to grab onto it tightly. Giving a slight shake of his head, Frank pulled your hand off of his wrist and guided it underneath his wrist instead.
“Look, underneath, yeah? Underneath. Go for the joint. Joints are weakest.”
Everything Frank was showing you seemed so simple that it filled you with a false sense of confidence. With your right hand under his right wrist, you gripped onto the barrel tightly with your left hand and took a step back as you tried to tug it away, thinking it would spring loose. Frank let out a grunt of disapproval and pulled his right arm back, easily slipping the gun out of your grasp completely and causing you to stumble forward a bit. He had a somewhat stern look on his face as he wagged the gun in your direction twice.
“Easy, bang bang. Don’t ever pull a gun towards you. You push it away.”
Letting out a huff of annoyance as your previous overzealous confidence fizzled out, you looked up at Frank as he held his left hand out towards you to signal for you to stay in place. He wasn’t teasing you anymore like he had been earlier. This wasn't Frank that had made you strawberry pancakes and caressed your legs while they sat in his lap as the two of you shared breakfast this morning. This was Frank that nearly sent your ex to the morgue instead of prison. He was back in full protective bodyguard mode.
“Listen to me. Use your legs, get underneath, and twist. Don’t pull, twist. Yeah? C’mon, show me.”
Taking a deep breath, you gave a slight nod and went over the steps in your head. Grab the barrel of the gun, shove it away from yourself, slip your other hand under the wrist joint, and twist the gun away. Your lips faintly twitched as you silently recited the steps to yourself three times for good measure. Frank didn’t make a move to rush you. He kept his eyes on you and waited patiently until you were ready to give it a try. 
Sucking in one more deep breath, your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and you sprung into action. Taking a quick step forward, you reached out to tightly grab the barrel of the gun with your left hand, and while you pushed it away to the left, you simultaneously slipped your right hand under Frank’s wrist. Twisting the barrel of the gun forcefully to the right caused Frank’s wrist to twist with it until he was forced to let go, and in that short window of weakness you were able to pull the gun out of his hand with a hard step backwards.
Glancing down at the gun in your hands, your eyes went wide with surprise and your mouth hung open as you let out an incredulous laugh. 
“Holy shit, that actually worked!”
Frank held his hands up like you had just made a touchdown, and he started to clap as a proud tooth bearing grin stretched over his lips.
“Look at that, huh? Who got a gun, huh?”
Looking up at Frank, your lips parted into a huge grin of your own while you held it up like a trophy and spoke in a proud voice.
“I have a gun.”
“Attagirl. You’re goddamn right you do. You did good, sweetheart. Real good. Feels good, yeah?”
Biting down on your bottom lip, you let out a soft laugh while admiring the gun in your hands. Well, more so admiring the fact that you were able to actually take it from Frank. The only reason you felt comfortable holding the gun right now was because Frank had shown you the clip was empty before he started demonstrating the basics earlier. 
Pointing a loaded gun at Steven had been different. You were blinded in a fit of rage, not thinking clearly, but deep down you knew there was no way you would have actually pulled the trigger. However if you had been level headed, you probably wouldn’t have taken it from Billy, even if he offered. 
“Yeah…yeah it does.”
And it did feel good. It made you feel strong…less helpless. Frank was giving you back a sense of safety and security that had been stolen from you when you were first threatened by the Defenders of Freedom. Even if you never used this lesson, and you genuinely hoped you wouldn’t have to, you felt a surge of confidence knowing that you were at least capable of protecting yourself in some capacity. 
“Okay, step three.”
A pinch of confusion settled between your brows as you looked up at Frank when he mentioned a third step, and you noticed that he wasn’t smiling anymore. A grim look had settled over his features that sent a chill of unease down your spine.
“You just took a gun off someone that wanted to use it on you. What d’you do.”
The delight of pride had disappeared from his face and was swiftly replaced by a shadow of severity that was now coveting his sharp features, and the elated grin that was on your own lips had slowly fallen from grace. It was a rhetorical question you both knew the answer to, but you hadn’t factored in a third step. It hadn’t even crossed your mind, and Frank could see that in your eyes.
“You use it on them. Don’t matter who they are, you do not hesitate. You got that?”
Looking down at the gun in your hands, the weight of it was suddenly too heavy in your palms. Step three was a reminder that step one and two weren’t just to boost your confidence in protecting yourself; they were steps to defend yourself. Swallowing thickly, you nodded your head in silent understanding.
“Good. Show me.”
Frank’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. It wasn’t a command, but it wasn’t a suggestion either. Placing both of your hands on the gun the way he had shown you to properly hold it, you took a deep breath, slowly raising it to aim in Frank’s direction. You weren’t sure if it was the fact that he knew the clip was empty, or that this most likely wasn’t the first time he had stared down the barrel of a gun, but he looked completely unphased. The canvas of his face was expressionless, but his eyes were what you had learned to read. Only right now, you couldn’t understand what they were trying to tell you. 
The gun trembled slightly in your grasp, as if every cell in your body knew exactly how wrong it felt to point a gun at Frank, loaded or not. The self defense lesson you wanted for a possible yet highly improbable scenario had quickly become too heavy and realistic, and you were quickly regretting even asking for it.
“Show me.”
“I’m not doing that-”
“It ain’t loaded-”
“Frank, I don’t want to-”
“What’d I say, huh? I don’t care who it is, you do not hesitate. Ever. Now, show me you understand.”
Frank’s tone was a little more forceful, but the volume of it was still even and somewhat soft. You knew there were no repercussions if you didn’t pull the trigger. He had learned early on that he couldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to, and you trusted him enough to know that he would never try to force you. Frank never demanded anything of you, he always asked.
But you had asked for this, and he wanted you to follow through with it.
Clenching your jaw, you let out a shaky exhale through your nose, and you slowly squeezed the trigger like he had taught you to yesterday when you were out in the woods using cans as target practice. The click that sounded caused you to flinch, and it seemed to echo loudly in the living room. Frank on the other hand didn’t visibly react to it at all.
Without another word, you placed the gun down onto the coffee table a little too forcefully and headed towards the back door, wanting to put as much distance between it and yourself as possible. Frank caught your wrist before you could get too far and gently tugged you back towards himself.
“Hey-”
“I’m going for a walk.”
“No, you ain’t. You ain’t runnin’ away, you’re gonna stay here and talk to me. We ain’t doin’ that not communicatin’ shit. Why are you upset?”
“I told you I didn’t want to do that-”
“You asked me to teach you. I said no, but you kept on beggin’. What did you think this was gonna be, huh? You think you get a gun off someone, and it ends there? No. As soon as you get control and take it, you use it. No negotiatin’, no questionin’ it, you do it-”
“And what if I can’t, Frank?”
The distress in your voice made him pause and clench his jaw. He could see that you were visibly upset, and for a moment he wondered if he was being too hard on you. You said it yourself, this was not your area of expertise. It was his. Frank had years of professional training under his belt. Pulling a trigger was something he didn’t even have to think twice about. It was an automatic response. The aftermath of what followed didn’t even make him bat an eye. There were always casualties in war. 
But you weren’t a soldier, and having to actually pull the trigger on someone would be something that haunted you for the rest of your life if it came down to it.
Letting out a deep exhale through his large nose, Frank stepped forward and wrapped one of his arms around your waist to pull you into his embrace while using his other hand to slip his fingers gently into your hair to brush it back before cradling your face in his right hand.
“Listen to me. If it comes down to you, or someone else, you do whatever you gotta do to save yourself, you got that?”
The rational part of your brain knew that Frank was right. If you had taken a gun from Cavella or Walker, you would’ve had to shoot them. There’s no way they wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to kill you if they had it. But the emotional part of your brain was struggling to figure out if you could handle the consequences of taking someone’s life, justified or not. Frank could see the internal conflict in your eyes, and he lightly brushed the calloused pad of his thumb along your cheekbone as the rough timbre of his voice broke the tense silence.
“Hey, no one’s sayin’ you gotta shoot ‘em point blank, alright? I’ve seen your aim, and it ain’t all that great anyway. You’d be lucky to scare ‘em off with firin’ a terrible shot just so you could get away.”
Rolling your eyes at his comment, you let out a dry laugh. As much as you wanted to be annoyed, he was right. You were terrible. You didn’t hit a single can yesterday, even at close range. You did manage to scare the shit out of some crows in a tree though.
“You are such an ass.”
The edge of Frank’s mouth twitched up into a light smirk while giving your waist a gentle squeeze.
“And you’re cute thinkin’ you could actually do some damage. I know a blind guy that can hit targets better than you. Look, you gotta stop gettin’ upset ‘bout things that might not even happen, alright? If it ever comes down to it, remember that you’re the one controllin’ the gun, yeah? It ain’t controllin’ you. Wherever you aim, the bullet’s gonna go. You can shoot ‘em in the leg, foot, shoulder, hell shoot ‘em in the dick for all I care. That’ll keep ‘em down for a while. You just promise me you’ll pull that trigger. You get ‘em down however you want, and then you get the hell outta there. That’s all you gotta do, yeah?”
Frank dipped his head to catch your eyes, staring intently into them. Letting out a deep breath, you bit down on your bottom lip and nodded while placing your hands on Frank’s biceps. You could do that. Injuring someone just to get away was a lot more manageable for your conscience. Frank lightly grasped your jaw in his large hand, his bottom three fingers wrapping around your throat while his index finger and thumb held your jaw. He tipped your head back so that you had no choice but to look up at him.
“Lemme hear you say it.”
Staring up into his warm brown eyes, you gazed up at him silently for a moment before speaking.
“No hesitating. I promise.”
“Attagirl. C’mere.”
Frank leaned in to capture your lips in a soft and sweet kiss. Sometimes it amazed you how easily he was able to talk you down from the ledge. Frank was a man of few words, but he somehow always knew exactly which ones to say to ease whatever anxieties were weighing on your mind. And the distraction of his plush lips against yours also certainly helped.
Ever since the other night by the fireplace, every kiss between the two of you that started out soft and sweet had a way of evolving into something more passionate and insatiable. Maybe it was the months of denying your feelings for one another, or maybe there was just some magnetic pull between your souls, but whatever it was, neither of you could get enough.
Before you could even register that you were moving, Frank was lifting you up by your hips and setting you down on the dining table, his hungry kisses leaving a searing path along your jawline and down the column of your neck.
“Did good today, sweetheart. Did real goddamn good, made me so proud.”
Frank’s gravely songs of praise in your ear only further ignited the flame of desire that was burning in your lower belly. Despite the warmth of his large palm touching your bare skin as he slipped it underneath your shirt to caress your lower back, a shiver teasingly tumbled down your spine from the contact.
“I had a good teacher.”
“Nah, I think you’re just a natural, baby.”
“I thought I had terrible aim?”
“Didn’t say you were perfect. Everybody’s got their strengths and weaknesses.”
A soft laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it, and you could feel the rumble of Frank’s deep chuckle vibrating in his chest that was pressed against yours.
“Wow, you really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Castle.”
Frank pulled back slightly to look down at you, his eyes traveling over your figure to drink in the sight of you sitting on the edge of the dining table before they slowly wandered back up to meet your gaze. He arched one of his thick brows as a smug smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Yours are currently danglin’, sweetheart.”
Before you could retort with a smartass comment of your own, Frank’s mouth was back on your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses along your sensitive skin. Feeling his tongue gliding along your collarbone and giving it a delectable love bite, you closed your eyes and let your head fall back, granting Frank all the access he wanted to your skin.
The feeling of his lips on your neck was so heavenly you almost didn’t notice that he had popped the button on your jeans and tugged down your zipper until he was lifting you up slightly with one arm around your waist and pulling the denim down your hips with his free hand. As soon as your jeans were completely off, your own hands were reaching for Frank’s belt buckle, but he grasped your wrists and halted your attempt. A soft noise of protest quickly slipped past your lips.
“Frank-”
“Shh shh shh. Spread your legs for me, baby.”
A rush of heat pooled in your cheeks at his request, but you obliged immediately. Frank leaned in to kiss you deeply, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip and nipping at it softly while his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your panties and slipped them off too slowly for your liking. The sudden contact of the crisp autumn air coming in through the open windows hitting your slicked folds had you gasping, and Frank used that to his advantage by slipping his tongue into your mouth to caress your own sensually. 
“Spread ‘em wider for me, sweetheart. C’mon.”
Frank’s deep voice was quiet, but it nestled in your ears as comfortably as it did between your thighs. He pulled you a little more towards the edge of the dining table, and when you spread your legs further for him, he sank down to his knees in front of you and let out a low groan of appreciation at the sight waiting for him. 
“Attagirl, that’s it. God, look at you. You should see how fuckin’ pretty you look right now, baby.”
His large hands gripped onto your soft thighs, kneading and squeezing your flesh with his thick fingers. Frank didn’t waste a second before diving into your cunt face first. As soon as his warm and wet tongue began to strum your clit like chords to his favorite song, your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head. He brought your legs over his broad shoulders, burying his face so deep into your core, you weren’t sure how he was breathing.
Your hand quickly found a fistful of his slightly grown out hair that you gripped onto to steady yourself, and when you gave it an experimental tug, the vibration of his groan against your clit had your thighs trembling more than any toy you had ever gotten for yourself before.
“Fuck…Frank…”
Frank let out a loud grunt as he pulled back for just a moment to stare at your glistening pussy almost in awe, his hooded eyes briefly meeting your own for a second before focusing back on the display of your desire for him.
“Taste so good sweetheart, so fuckin’ good. You got no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”
He dove right back in, this time slipping his tongue inside of you to explore while using his large nose to bump against your clit repeatedly. The stimulation had your back arching off the dining table and a loud moan echoed throughout the cabin. Tugging harder at his dark roots, you pushed your hips up against his face, desperately and greedily searching for more. None of your exes had ever eaten you out like this before. Most of them didn’t even know what the fuck they were doing, and the rest gave up after a few minutes because it “took too long”, but still expected you to suck them off until your jaw ached.
But Frank…God, Frank knew what he was doing. His thick fingers were digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, following your hips wherever they went. The groans that continued to vibrate against your clit not only turned you on because of their stimulation, but because you could tell that Frank was genuinely enjoying eating your pussy. The fact that he was getting just as much pleasure out of it as you were had you on the brink of an orgasm alone. Frank had a way of making every experience feel brand new, and it made you realize just how much you had been missing out on in your previous relationships.
That familiar bubbly feeling was building up inside of you, cresting slowly like a tidal wave ready to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting beach. Your breaths were coming out in short staccato variations, and at this point you were roughy tugging at Frank’s hair with both hands while essentially fucking his face. Not that he seemed to mind at all. If anything, it just seemed to make him more feral.
“Yesyesyesyes…please-fuck, Frank…I…I…”
Frank pulled you even closer towards the edge of the dining table to where your ass was basically hanging off of it, and the jolt of his large palm smacking against your ass was the only indication you got that he understood what you were trying to tell him.
You thought you had more time, but your climax suddenly crashed into you without further warning, and your hips were stuttering as Frank continued his incessant assault on your pussy with his tongue. It seemed like he didn’t want to let a drop of your essence go to waste, and while you appreciated his enthusiasm, the way he was flicking his tongue rapidly against your overstimulated clit was riding that very thin line between pain and pleasure, and you were weakly shoving at his broad shoulders.
“Okay okay okay…Frank…fuck, please! Just…give me a second, God-”
Frank dragged his tongue up your entire pussy from your entrance to your clit one last time before granting you mercy with a low growl. While you panted heavily laying back against the dining room table, he was pressing featherlight kisses to each of your inner thighs, but due to your body feeling like a live wire, they felt like faint shocks that had your body jolting every time his wet lips met your heated skin. He chuckled deeply watching you respond to his touch.
“You alright there, sweetheart?”
Lifting your hand, you gave him a weak thumbs up, and Frank just laughed even louder in amusement at that. The sound of his laughter combined with your own blissed out post orgasm state had a lazy grin stretching over your lips. You felt his large and rough hands slipping underneath your shirt, gently caressing your bare skin and grabbing your waist while he leaned over you, kissing your lips deeply. The taste of your own sweet tang on Frank’s tongue had your head spinning, and a soft hum sounded in the back of your throat.  Even though you were still recovering from your first ever oral orgasm, the feeling of Frank’s hard cock straining against his jeans and rubbing against your inner thigh reignited your greed.
Brushing your hand slowly down his chest, you palmed him firmly through his jeans, and Frank let out a grunt while pushing himself further against your hand. He broke the kiss momentarily to nuzzle his large nose against your throat.
“If ya need a minute-”
“No. Now.”
While you unfastened his belt in record time, Frank placed his hands on the table on either side of your head and pulled back to look down at you with a soft chuckle at your impatience. He lightly cocked his head to the side, his brown eyes darkened with lust as they roamed over you shamelessly. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and a crooked smirk caressed his mouth.
“Anybody ever tell you what an impatient lil thing you are?”
A smirk of your own tugged across your lips while you slipped your hand into his jeans, stroking his thick cock through his briefs, earning a quiet grunt from Frank.
“Apart from you every day since we met? Maybe a few other people. Is my lack of patience really what you wanna talk about right now, big guy?”
The sultry tone of your voice did not go unnoticed by Frank, and in fact, it only made his cock swell even more in your welcoming hand. He slowly moved his hips back and forth as you teasingly stroked him and leaned down closer towards you, nuzzling his nose along your throat before whispering huskily into your ear.
“Got somethin’ better in mind.”
By the time Frank had carried you down the hall to the master bedroom, the two of you had left a trail of forgotten items of clothing strewn like breadcrumbs along the path from the kitchen. He let you push him back against the mattress and grabbed your hips to pull you on top of him, his lips moving in sync with your own, but when you felt the swollen head of his cock bump against your clit, you suddenly pressed your palms firmly against his chest and pulled back while breaking the kiss.
“Wait.”
Frank immediately paused, loosening his grip on your hips, his lust clouded eyes clearing a bit while searching your own and wandering over your figure for the source of the problem.
“What? What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
The concern in his rough timbre combined with the worry in his soft brown eyes made your heart melt. A gentle smile covered your lips while you reached out to delicately hold his strong jaw in your hands, and you leaned in to kiss his lips softly.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t think it’s fair you get to have all the fun.”
Frank’s apprehension morphed into confusion, and a few creases nestled between his thick brows. 
“Huh?”
Letting out a soft laugh at how adorable he looked when he was confused, you decided to explain with actions instead of words. When you moved backwards off his lap to settle between his legs, Frank raised himself up on his elbows, following you with his eyes as he watched you intently. 
“What are you-holy shit.”
Frank’s jaw went slack the second you leaned in and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around it once before beginning to take a few inches into your mouth. Placing one of your hands on his left hip, you teasingly moved your lips up his length until he was out of your mouth with a satisfying pop. Pursing your lips, you let a string of glistening saliva slowly drop onto his tip and used your free hand to spread it down the rest of his thick cock for lubrication, and after wrapping your fingers around his girth, you began to twist your wrist up and down slowly. 
You could feel how tense he was through your hold on his hip. Glancing up at him through your lashes, you noticed that he was staring directly at you, completely mesmerized, and was gripping onto the sheets so tightly you thought he might rip them. Moving your hand from his hip, you reached out to caress his hand, and he slowly loosened his grip, his knuckles no longer stark white. His plush lips were parted, and he was breathing hard, his thick brows knit in complete focus. You allowed him to slip out of your mouth for just a moment to smile softly up at Frank.
“Just relax.”
The sweet sound of your voice seemed to reach his ears, and after a few more moments of hesitation, Frank finally laid back against the mattress and let his head rest on the pillows. He moved the hand that was underneath yours to grab your wrist, turning your hand over so he could slot his fingers between yours to hold it. His other hand slowly came over to card his fingers through your hair before cradling the back of your head. Giving his hand that you were holding a light squeeze, you continued to hold eye contact with Frank while slowly sucking him off, using your hand that was around his base to work over what wouldn’t fit in your mouth.
The sound of his quiet grunts and low moans sent a thrill through you, and you wanted to know just how vocal he could get. Letting go of his hand, you placed both of your palms firmly on his hips and relaxed your jaw completely, taking his entire cock into your mouth until his tip hit the back of your throat. A guttural groan ripped from the depth of his chest and his lower abdomen instantly tensed up as he gripped onto your hair.
“Goddamn-fuck…fuck, sweetheart. Do…do that again. Please…please baby, do it again.”
Taking in a deep inhale through your nose, you prepared yourself to deepthroat Frank’s thick cock again, and this time you held him there until your eyes started to water. He let out a louder moan of your name, and that caused the throbbing between your thighs to evolve from dull to downright unbearable. You thought about sneaking your hand downwards to get a little relief, but Frank had been so unselfish when he ate you out, only focused on your pleasure, and he deserved that same treatment. 
All of a sudden, Frank roughly tugged at your hair, and that made you moan around his cock. You heard him let out a quiet fuck under his breath in response. He gave your hair another tug to get your attention, and his cock slipped from your lips as you licked them and tried to catch your breath while staring at him, noticing that he had sat up.
“C’mere.”
He didn’t give you a chance to protest before he grabbed your throat and pulled you in close to kiss you fervently. Frank’s large and rough hands grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap again, and you let out a soft whine against his lips when the head of his cock rubbed against your sensitive clit. 
“Frank, I didn’t get to finish-”
“As much as I’d love to come down that pretty throat, I need ya baby. Need ya now.”
Grabbing the base of his cock, Frank positioned himself perfectly with your entrance and pulled you down slowly, letting you feel every single inch of him. Your mouth hung open at the sensation, and your body instantly tensed up. You thought Frank had been deep the other night, but he was reaching an even greater depth inside of you right now if that was possible. There was a slight burn as your walls stretched to accommodate his size, but your brain barely even registered it, because Frank was slipping his tongue into your mouth and kissing you sensually as if he wanted to steal the very essence of life from your lungs. 
Once he was fully nestled deep inside of you, a high pitched cry left your mouth, and he wrapped his arm around your waist tightly.
“Shh…s’alright. Just relax for me, sweetheart.”
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you clung to Frank as he wrapped both of his strong arms around your waist and held you tightly against his chest. Both of you sat there for a moment, your foreheads pressed together as you panted. He rubbed his large calloused hand up and down your spine soothingly, his teeth grazing along your ear lobe and biting down gently to distract you from any discomfort. Slowly, the tension in your body melted, and you gave an experimental roll of your hips that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
“That’s it…attagirl. Take your time, sweetheart. M’right here. I got you.”
This felt right. It felt…perfect. Those three little words almost slipped out right there. Grabbing onto the back of his neck, you pulled Frank in for a passionate kiss, trying to pour every ounce of emotion you felt into it. He groaned quietly against your lips when your nails lightly scratched at the back of his head where his hair was shaved closely to his scalp. Moving your hips in slow circles, you grinded down onto Frank’s cock, and he flexed his hips upwards to match your rhythm. The other night by the fireplace had been the best experience of your life, but this…this was something you couldn’t put into words.
Placing your palms against Frank’s firm chest, you pressed lightly and he followed your silent instructions, allowing you to push him onto his back. His large hands gripped firmly onto your hips as he gazed up at you, and you kept your palms flat on his chest while slowly riding his cock. Neither of you could tear your eyes away from each other. The feeling of his warm hands leisurely moving up your bare skin made you shiver, and a soft gasp left your lips when he groped your breasts and squeezed gently. The calloused pad of his thumb gingerly brushing over your peaked nipple had you arching your back, pressing your chest further into his eager hands.
“You’re so goddamn beautiful.”
The sincerity in Frank’s vulnerable whisper nearly brought tears to your eyes. He wasn’t saying it because he thought it was what you wanted to hear, he was saying it because he felt it, and he was making you feel it too. The way he was staring up at you like you were the only thing that mattered had your heart swelling inside your ribcage like a balloon about to burst. It had been a long time since you mattered to someone, and you felt lucky it was Frank. The look in his eyes was almost too much to handle.
Letting your head fall back, you closed your eyes for a moment as you writhed on top of Frank, getting completely lost in how good it felt to be connected to him in such a raw and intimate way. One of his hands traveled up from your breast towards your throat, and he wrapped his fingers tightly around it almost entirely, forcing you to face him again. He pulled you down over him so that your forehead was pressed to his, and the two of you stared deeply into each other's eyes. 
“Frank-”
“I wanna see you. Wanna see those pretty eyes when you come for me. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”
Being this close to him, you noticed for the first time that there were scattered flecks of honey in his deep brown eyes. They looked so warm and inviting, like two melted pools of chocolate you wanted to drown in. The eyes that could say so much with a single look. You thought you could see it…that flicker that he felt it too. You wanted to tell him so fucking badly, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment, and the way he was hitting that spongy spot inside of you that could cause supernovas to appear behind your eyelids was making it hard for you to speak at all.
Holding his face in your hand, your eyes drifted back and forth between his own as you stared down at him in complete devotion, your lips parted as you nodded your head frantically while short and breathy moans escaped you. Frank’s eyes were focused solely on you, one of his hands holding the back of your head while his other remained around your throat. It was getting harder and harder for you to keep your eyes open, but you didn’t want to miss a single second of this moment.
It was also getting harder and harder to not voice the sentiment that was overflowing from your ribcage.
“Frank…I…I-”
Frank cut off your words by capturing your lips in a heated kiss. The softness of his lips against yours, the heat of his bare skin pressed to your own, his thick fingers wrapped around your neck and tangled in your hair, his pubic bone rubbing just right against your clit…it was all too much. Breaking the kiss, you buried your face into the crook of his neck and let out a sharp cry of his name. Your nails raked harshly down his chest when your climax finally peaked, and a white hot cloud of hedonistic desire blinded your vision. 
Your entire body seized up, and you could faintly hear Frank whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he gripped your hips and repeatedly thrust up into you, fucking you through your orgasm while barreling towards his own. The sensation of that alone was enough to nearly send you free falling into another. The intensity of your orgasm had rendered you an incoherent and moaning mess. Frank dug his fingers roughly into the flesh of your hips and came with a deep grunt that nearly sounded like a growl, letting out a loud groan of your name.
The room felt like a sauna. Your face felt overheated, and your hair was stuck to your cheeks and the back of your neck with sweat. Frank had his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, hugging you against his chest. The feeling of his strong heartbeat thundering against your own chest kept you anchored to the moment while your body trembled with aftershocks. You couldn’t move, and you didn’t want to.
As soon as Frank made a move to sit up and pull out of you, a desperate and high pitched whine of protest fell from your lips while you gripped onto his shoulder and dug your nails into the muscle.
“No no no no no, please…don’t move.”
Frank instantly stilled, bringing one of his hands up to brush the sweaty hair stuck to your forehead and neck away. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead and gave your body a gentle squeeze in his strong arms.
“Okay, we don’t gotta move yet.”
Letting out a soft sigh of relief, you buried your face further into Frank’s neck, letting the comforting scent of his cologne calm you. He gently carded his thick fingers through your hair and kept holding you tightly to his chest while resting his head against your own.
“I just wanna stay like this for a while.”
“We can stay like this as long as you want, sweetheart.”
When you started to regain your senses, you started to wonder just how true that statement was. 
How long could you and Frank stay like this before reality came knocking?
Your home wouldn’t always be a crime scene. Eventually the two of you would have to go back to work. Now that everything had changed between the two of you, what would a new normal look like? Frank’s job required him to be with someone constantly. What happens when he gets assigned to someone else? What if it’s another woman? Even though Frank was broody and unapproachable initially, you had still found him attractive, and all the time you spent together over the past few months led you right here to this moment.
What if that happened with someone else? What if the next woman he was assigned to found him just as attractive? What if she wanted him? You and Frank hadn’t really established what this was between the two of you. Were you together? Did he want to be together? Would he still want to be together if the next woman was prettier and less stubborn and actually-
“Quit it.”
The sound of his deep voice breaking through the silence interrupted your spiraling. 
“What?”
“Whatever you’re overthinkin’ right now, let it go.”
Removing your face from the crook of Frank’s neck, you pulled back slightly to peer down at him in pure curiosity.
“How do you even-”
“I can practically hear the gears turnin’ in your head, sweetheart. You keep thinkin’ so hard, smoke’s gonna start comin’ out of your ears.”
Giving him a pointed look expressing you weren’t amused, he let out a quiet chuckle and gently brushed the calloused pad of his thumb along your cheekbone.
“C’mon, you ain’t got nothin’ to worry ‘bout right now. Just relax, yeah?”
Letting out a soft sigh, you nodded and laid your head back against Frank’s shoulder, nuzzling your nose against his neck as he hugged onto you tightly. For a while, you two laid there wrapped up in one another, and you were able to let some of your anxieties go. The afterglow of your shared euphoria was peaceful, and you could’ve even fallen asleep at that moment, but something Frank said earlier suddenly popped back into your head. 
“Hey Frank?”
“Hm?”
“Do you really know a blind guy that has a good aim with guns?”
Frank let out a quiet snicker at your question.
“He don’t use guns. He’s too…Catholic.”
That did nothing to answer your question and only fueled you with more inquiries.
“But…you said he could hit targets better than I could.”
Frank simply grunted in response. You stayed silent waiting for further explanation, but when one didn’t come, you continued your questions.
“How?”
“Hell if I know.”
Sitting up a little bit again, you stared down at Frank in complete puzzlement.
“But…he’s blind. That doesn’t make any sense.”
“No it don’t.”
“So…he’s-”
“An asshole. Go to sleep.”
Letting out a soft laugh, your eyes widened slightly as you gently smacked his chest.
“Frank!”
“What? Cause he’s blind he can’t be an asshole?”
“Well…no. But…how does he do it?”
“You’ll have to ask ‘em yourself.”
“I thought Billy was your only friend.”
Frank pulled a look of faux offense at that, his thick brows knit as he let out a puff of air through his lips.
“Ouch. I got other friends, smartass. And I never said he was one. He’s more of a pain in my ass.”
Frank gently pinched your ass which made you squeal before erupting into a fit of laughter.
“Hey!”
A huge grin split across your lips as he suddenly flipped you both over, managing to keep himself nestled inside of you while he pinned you beneath his large body. As he leaned in to kiss your lips, you brought your index finger up and pressed it against his mouth.
“I’m not done. I have more questions.”
“Course you do.”
“I wanna know who this mystery blind man is with good aim, and your other friends that you suddenly have that you’ve kept from me. While you’re at it, is there anything else you’re hiding, Castle?”
While your question was intended to be teasing, a dark look flashed across Frank’s eyes, and it made your breath hitch in your throat. He stared down at you silently for a moment, and it made you wonder just how much more there was to Frank that you hadn’t uncovered yet. As soon as you removed your finger from his lips, Frank leaned in closer, caging you in with his large hands on either side of your head. As he loomed over you, he slowly thrust his hips against your own, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. His breath was warm against your lips while he nuzzled his large nose along your own, his rough voice coming out in a husky whisper.
“Think I liked you better when the only thing you could say was my name, sweetheart.”
tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 9 months ago
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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.”
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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codeinesturniolo · 4 months ago
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never let this bitch make a edit again.
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majestyeverlasting · 2 months ago
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𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐰 | 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞
Pairing Frank Castle x Reader [friends → lovers] 
Summary A fresh start with no more loose ends—that’s what you promised yourselves. But when a quick outing stretches longer than expected, dread creeps in and reveals how deeply you care for Frank when he’s finally back by your side [3.7k] 
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A/N First time writing for Frank. Deeply appreciate Jon Bernthal’s embodiment of the character ♡
The rain hasn’t stopped by the time the van eases into the parking lot, where the water on the ground reflects the cherry-red motel sign shining against the night. It makes no difference to you—lips parted, head tilted against the passenger side window—until Frank gears into park and taps your thigh with two thick fingers. 
Your eyes flutter open to tiny droplets pattering on the outside of the cool glass. That’s when you notice how still the world has grown. No more potholes, smooth turns, or periodic swells of acceleration to pass other cars who thought they had all the time in the world. 
After cutting the engine, he runs a heavy hand down his face and tips his head back, disheveling the back of his dark hair against the headrest. It’s gotten longer. So has the coarser hair of his beard. He never asked for your opinion, nor had you mustered the courage to give it, but the look suited him, as if it was innately right. As he briefly closes his eyes, he misses the way you turn to study his profile, noting how the bridge of his nose catches the glow of the lights outside.
A satisfied hum escapes you as you stretch out your legs, drawing his attention back your way. He blinks observantly, eyebrows set in that eternal furrow that makes him hard to read. But you know he’s alright—content. There’s no other reason not to be. A couple hundred miles ago, he’d tied off one final loose end, and the world went silent for the first time in a while. It was over. No more living ghosts breathing down your necks. You and Pete Castiglione were free to start a new life, be whoever you wanted to be. That’s what you told yourselves. 
Clearing his throat, Frank shifts in his seat and reaches into the cup holder, tossing the room key into your lap. “Room 103. There’s two queens,” he tells you. “I’ll grab the bags.” The finality in his tone suggests he won’t entertain any alterations to the plan.   
You reach down to grab your crossbody. “Can I get this one, or is it too much?” You’re trying to be funny. He waves you off, mumbling under his breath, but there’s an undeniable flutter in his gut when you smile at him before hopping out of the van. 
He purses his lips when you break into an amusing little jog, eager to escape the rain and key into the room. A muted yellow fills the space as you flip on the lights. No sooner does he watch you peek through the curtains like a groundhog popping up from its burrow. It’s hard to make him out, but you swear you can see him chuckling from behind the windshield. 
It’s impressive how he manages to carry both your belongings in one trip. He hums in appreciation as you hold the door open for him. Rather than dumping everything in the main walkway, he trudges the extra few steps to where more space opens up, and a small bench rests beneath the full length mirror hanging on the wall. 
The air is thick, as it always seems to be at motels, but the citrus undertones suggest recent cleaning. You stake your claim on the bed closest to the bathroom, ready to settle in. The wrapper of a meal bar crinkles as you dig it out from your purse. 
Frank’s own mattress squeaks as he plops down onto the foot of the bed and lays back, tucking his hands behind his head. The movement makes the hem of his hoodie rise up just enough to reveal the light trail of dark hair leading down from his belly button. It’s not the most comfortable bed in the world, but you’d be back on the road in the morning headed for central Virginia. 
A modest house in the Blue Ridge Mountains awaited, courtesy of one of his buddies who lived further north in Quantico. Of all the other options, it seemed like a promising place to find your footing away from the endless bustle of New York City. 
“Frank?” He looks over at you. “Thanks.” For everything, you want to add. 
“No worries,” he says. A few moments pass of the rain slowing down outside. It’s a lulling sound that masks the quiet gurgle of your stomach. 
Eyes closed, Frank hears you begin to peel open the bar you’re holding. It’s one of the protein-packed ones that are supposed to taste like chocolate, but always end up too chalky. It’d been a while since the late lunch the two of you had. 
“I’ll go get you something hot.” He sits up. “Passed a few places coming in.” 
You can see how drained he is from driving. It’s in his voice, the slump of his shoulders. “This’ll tie me over for the night,” you insist.
He looks at you with partial belief. Frank was the type who could get caught up in the task at hand and go without eating, if it wasn’t for your reminders. Earlier, he’d brushed over his hunger, only to sit down across from you in that cramped diner booth and inhale his hamburger and fries as you watched with amusement sparkling in your eyes. That look often spurred him into a spiel about how he could get by on a handful of nuts every few hours if he really wanted. 
But there was no such talk this time around. The food was good and hearty, and he enjoyed sitting down and sharing a meal without having to look over his shoulder. There was also something special about the way the sunlight streaming through the windows caught your eyes. 
“Really, Frank. It’s been a long day,” you say as he stands and makes his way to the door. There was no stopping him when he made up his mind. “I can come with you.” That earns you a disapproving look, and you sigh your defeat. “Drive safe, okay?” 
“Yep.” 
The rain subsides shortly after he slips out the door. To avoid the risk of falling asleep, you decide to take a shower, considering yourself lucky that the warm water doesn’t run out after the first five minutes.
By the time you dry off, moisturize, and change into old pajamas, Frank hasn’t returned. When you peek out the window at the sound of an engine, it ends up being construction workers. Despite how much you try to will it away, a familiar sense of dread settles in your gut. It only roots deeper upon realizing that he’d left his BlackBerry behind on the bed. 
Time continues passing by. 
•••
Red and blue police lights appear blazing in the distance in a showy glow. Frank watches from the inside of a family-owned pizzeria, where beautiful candid pictures adorn the walls. The air is rich with the scent of parmesan and garlic, but his face is fixed in a scowl. There’s bruising beginning to develop on the apple of one cheek, and a thin bleeding slash on the other. A few chairs are overturned while tables are askew. 
Under different circumstances, maybe in a different life, he would’ve been able to appreciate the homey charm of the place without trouble finding a way to fall at his feet. The universe had deemed him as the only alter fit to handle it. 
The woman behind the counter, stout with a long ponytail, nearly collapses in relief as the wailing sirens draw nearer. Frank’s jaw ticks in irritation at the whole ordeal. Other customers who were once inside have either left or are now standing watch from the parking lot. 
Frank turns to look down at the two young men sitting on the floor with their backs against the wall. The masks have been ripped down from their faces, and it’s clear they’ve been roughed up. Despite feeling Frank’s gaze, they refuse to meet it. 
Off to side stands another employee who’s around the same age as the men on the ground. He’s holding a wad of napkins to his bloody nose and can’t keep his eyes from flitting to Frank with reverence and gratitude.  
“Hey,” Frank barks to the seated men. “When they bust up in here, you don’t run, you hear me? Cause I’m gonna be out there and you won’t even make it to the next lot over,” he says. “If you wanna come in here and be tough guys while your buddy’s trying to make a living and do better for himself, then you own it.” 
Their nostrils flare in frustration, but they don’t dare open their mouths. He can see the misplaced anger of his own youth coursing through them. 
“Whatever’s going on between you…you talk it out, yeah?” He looks between all of them. “One bad decision, and your folks will be crying and snotting in a courtroom while some guy with a gavel calls the shots.” 
As the police cars turn into the parking lot, Frank walks over to a table and picks up the carry out bag of food he’d ordered. 
“How do I get outta here?” 
Both the long-haired woman and the young employee point to the back hallway where the bathrooms are, watching him disappear as if he were never there at all. 
Frank makes it to his van as the police enter the pizzeria. In the rearview mirror, he can see the two men standing from the ground with their heads hanging low. Sighing, he pats down his pockets for his phone with the intent to call you. Nothing. All he can do is curse under his breath and start up the engine. 
The No Vacancy sign is switched on when he makes it back. He sees you staring out the window, but you slink back into the room as if the sight of his return was all you needed. A mix of guilt and frustration stir in his chest when you don’t let him in. He has to dig out the key and do it himself with his free hand, the carry out bag crinkling with his efforts. When he slips in and shuts the door behind himself, you’re standing a few yards away. There’s a palpable intensity as you study the afflictions on his face. 
Your body wants to fuss over him and push him away all at once—for leaving his phone, for scaring you, for coming back looking like he’d sought out yet another fight. Most of all, you feel foolish for believing that there was ever a chance at normalcy. There was no rewriting the curse that all the trouble in the world fell at Frank Castle’s feet so he could set things right. 
Unlike eight months ago, when you thought he was bad news, you can’t imagine losing him. You wouldn’t survive it. That magnitude of that fear cloaks itself in anger and puts a target on him when it’s the last thing he deserves. 
“What the hell, Frank? You can’t be serious right now.” 
Your piercing gaze is muddled with a myriad of emotions, and he can see them all. He stops the knee-jerk reaction that almost makes him raise his voice and go on about how he didn’t ask for anything that transpired within the past hour. How happenstance wasn’t within his control. How the whole idea of the two people like you finding a sense of normality was probably closer to a fairytale. 
He doesn’t get into it because he loves you. Even though neither of you have ever said it aloud. It was an unspoken truth, written between the lines of the fact that you worked each other’s nerves, but knew how to sooth them even more. Chasing after a fairytale would be worth it with you. 
“Let’s just eat, yeah? Can we do that?” 
He brushes past you to put the food on the small table. You track his movements, watching as he takes out a few small boxes. There’s wings, garlic knots, mozzarella sticks—a variety so you can take your pick and get your fill. It was never really too late for pizza, but he knew you would complain about the layers of cheese grease so close to bedtime. You’re not even sure you have an appetite anymore, but he motions for you to come sit and you can’t say no. Your eyes follow him as he goes to wash his hands, wishing you had it in you to scream. 
There’s only two chairs and your knees knock beneath the table when he sits down. As you nibble on a garlic knot, you stare at the dried blood on his cheek and the forming bruise. 
“Please tell me what happened.” Your tone is lighter than before.
Frank squints briefly then wrinkles his nose, gears turning in his head. Similar to when he walks into a new room, his gaze tracks around different points of your face, as if he’s trying to piece together what he wants to say as he assesses where you are. His thoughts are always written in his expressions even if they aren’t entirely clear. 
“It was nothing,” he says. 
“Nothing, Frank?” 
Nine times out of ten, him coming back to base camp bearing signs of a fight meant that he’d either taken care of everything or it was time to bounce—no in between. There’s no urgency that suggests the latter, so he must be telling the truth. The events of the night have pissed him off more than anything, like a side quest he couldn’t avoid. As much as he dreaded playing it over in his head for the sake of relaying it back to you, he can see that you need it. 
“Alright, look.” Frank waits for your attentive nod to continue. 
“It was a couple of kids. Came in all loud, making a scene,” he starts. “Long story short, they gang up on their buddy who works there.” Your eyes drift to his lips as he talks, watching the way he wets them every so often. “Everybody starts freaking out, some suit who looks like Mayor LaGaurdia calls the cops.” 
He shakes his head like it was all a big mess. “And I’m not about to sit there and watch this kid get the snot beat outta him, so I get up and do somethin’ about it.” The righteous indignation in his tone stirs an admiration within you. He notices the shift in the way you’re looking at him. 
“What?” 
You shake your head and bite your lower lip. “So you broke them apart?”
He nods. “One of ‘em got a lick in, pulled out a pocket knife,” he says. “Then I shook both their asses up and made ‘em sit ‘til the cops came.” 
“You pulled your punches.” 
“I pulled my punches,” he confirms.
This wasn’t the story you were expecting, but you’re grateful for it nonetheless. Frank breaking up fights and setting kids straight was something you could live with—better than dealing with crime rings, crooked feds, and personal vendettas. 
A wave of rowdy laughter soon erupts from somewhere in the distance. When you look down, you realize the two of you have made your way through more of the food than you were expecting. Frank wipes his hands off with a napkin and leans back in his chair, watching as you do the same. 
The silence is intimate. Frank’s knees are still pressed against yours. He looks like he wants to say one thing but changes his mind to another at the last minute. “I’m gonna go grab a shower, yeah?”  
“Yeah,” you mimic the quick, New York way he always clips the word onto the end of his sentences.  
He’s never minded your teasing. Every time he thinks he’s gotten away with masking his amusement, you always catch a tell that gives him away. This time, it’s the twitch of his nose as he stands up to throw his stuff away. You file it away in your memory. 
“Hey, Frank?” He looks over his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I was scared.” 
“I know.” 
Later, the lights around the mirror provide a Hollywood-esque glow as you stand at the sink brushing your teeth, one hand braced on the counter. The rest of the bathroom is sectioned off behind a door, so you feel the lingering steam from Frank's shower as he steps out in his sleep clothes, drying off his hair. The air smells like the complimentary soap, light and fresh. You absentmindedly shift to make room for him as he drapes the towel around his neck and leans close to the mirror to assess his face. 
Now that the blood is gone, the cut looks less imposing. Unphased that you’re bumping shoulders, he reaches for his own toothbrush. 
You’ve never paid any mind to how heavy-handed he is while he brushes, but it stands out now that you’re right beside him sharing the same sink. Perhaps it only appears that way, but you force yourself to bite back a teasing comment as you move on to floss. Frank just stares at you in the mirror with a soft, tired look in his eyes that makes your insides feel all fluttery. You’re sure he’s not even aware he’s doing it—or maybe he knows perfectly well. 
After he’s ditched the towel and the two of you are making your way to your respective beds, you bring a halt to his movements by wrapping your arms around him. It’s an awkward angle at first because you come at him partially from the side, partially from behind. But he adjusts himself so that your chests are pressed together as he wraps an arm around you—just the one initially, taken aback by your embrace. 
“Okay. Oh, boy,” he chuckles in that low way of his that playfully denotes trouble. 
You’re not sure why you made the move. As he adds his other arm, it occurs to you that there are too many motivations for there to be just one. Affection seldom looks like this between the two of you—maybe once every blue moon during notable partings or close calls. The seamless way you melt into him says otherwise. It’s as if relishing his warmth and the steady constant of his frame was all you were made for. The possibility doesn’t even offend you. You keep holding him and he keeps holding you. 
“You okay?” he asks after a while, smoothing his wide palm up your back. 
You nod before slowly pulling away. “Sorry, I’m just…” You touch a gentle finger to the center of his chest as he looks at you with that familiar furrow between his brows. “Glad you’re back.” Glad he’s still alive.
“Where else would I be, huh?” He taps your chin with his knuckle. “I walk out any door without you, best believe I’m making it back some way somehow.” 
You nod because you don’t trust your voice anymore.  
He gives your chin another affectionate tap. “Alright then. Bedtime.”
•••
A small sliver of light slips in through the slit in the curtains, casting itself onto the lower portion of Frank’s bed right over his feet. Even after staring at it for what feels like forever, you can’t bring yourself to close your eyes and surrender to the grasp of sleep. Yet the steady rise and fall of Frank’s chest continues on like some sort of miracle. You wish you were close enough to feel it for yourself, and when that pull doesn’t go away, you push the covers off and tiptoe over to his bed amid the dark.  
When the other side of his mattress dips, he thinks it’s one of those half-waking dreams until your leg brushes against his in your attempt to join him beneath the sheets. He immediately shifts to accommodate you, tugging more covers over to your side even though there’s already plenty. As he moves, you can smell the familiar scent of his skin and feel the weight of his proximity. 
“Thought you were—thought I was dreaming,” he rasps. 
With the way your heart has begun hammering in your ears, you’re surprised you can hear him. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah, you’re okay, sweetheart.” His voice is thick, but not from tiredness this time. 
Both of you remain still after you’ve settled, scared that moving would shatter this sweet reality that had been woven together by fate. The warmth of his body calls out to you, but you don’t indulge even though you want to. That hesitation doesn’t last long. The moment he reaches out, you press yourself back against his chest. He lets his hand come to rest over your stomach as he tucks his nose into your head, breathing you in. When you relax further into him, his fingertips venture just beneath the hem of your shirt to grace the soft skin above your waistline. The gesture is achingly chaste. The two of you fall asleep just like that. 
Morning seems to come soon, sunlight spilling into the room around the closed curtains. The light is tender in the way it bathes the charming color palette of the room. Frank’s eyes flutter open to find that neither of you had shifted much during the night. You're further away, but his arm remains draped over your middle. He doesn’t know that you're awake—that you’ve been awake. 
The first thing your gaze fell on was the alarm clock nearing nine o’ clock. You’d slept in way longer than usual, especially for what was meant to be another day on the road. You can’t bring yourself to mind. 
It isn’t until Frank withdraws his arm that you finally allow yourself to shift. The sheets rustle in a tell-tale sign that he’s stretching, and you roll over in time to see him on his back with his arms extended, knuckles brushing against the headboard. You scoot closer, resting a hand on his chest after he lowers his arms and tucks the one furthest from you behind his head, bicep flexing. 
Neither of you say anything, but there’s a quiet sense of acknowledgement—of seeing and being seen. With a lone finger, you draw lazy shapes over his pecs through the fabric of his shirt as he slowly blinks down at your hand. And as Frank turns to press a kiss to your forehead, he reckons he could get used to mornings like these.  
-
♡ Thank you for reading! I’d love to hear your thoughts.
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dollarbils · 1 month ago
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those poor unamerican girls | b.e.
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billie eilish x fem!reader
context. your religious parents aren’t happy about your illicit relationship with billie.
warnings. smut, praise, tiny bit angst but not rlly, slight age gap but it’s not really mentioned.
!religion not specified as this is not meant to offend anyone or their beliefs!
request masterlist
the tattoo that littered her left hand had turned a purple-ish blue. she’d gotten it at the start of the summer, marking the beginning of your relationship. did you get one too? no, your parents would kick you out. this however, would be nothing compared to the scrutiny you’d endure if they found out about her. your teenage wife, the subject of your romantic daydreams.
“my pretty girl.” billie whispered in your ear, startling you slightly, mindful of her volume so as not to disturb your parents. she'd just climbed in through the window of your bedroom.
"billie." a sigh of relief as she took you in her arms. you'd been flooded with schoolwork, and hadn't been able to see her all week.
"what are you doing here?" you asked, as she hadn't warned you of her visit.
"I wanted to see my pretty woman." she smiled, her words coaxing you into leaning in for a kiss, as the wind from your open window stole your hair, providing a slight breeze as the palm trees in your peripheral swayed in rhythm. her hands tightened around your waist, as she kissed you forcefully, simultaneously moving for the bed.
"baby, my parents are home." she whined when you broke the kiss. the daylight falling quickly, stealing away the sunset.
"I know." she said simply, in response to your previous statement. leaning in to pepper your lips.
"billie." you called, laughing quietly.
"you'll just have to stay quiet." she whispered into your neck, breathing in your scent and grazing her teeth against your skin.
"bils, you have to stop." your breaths picked up in attempt to comfort your raging desires. she wasn't helping the situation when she gripped your ass and sucked the skin below your jaw.
"billie." you were drifting away from a whisper, no longer able to keep up the restraint. she pulled on your top and you helped her take it off, all rational thoughts having disappeared. you’re so in love.
"mm?" she unhooked your bra before pushing you onto the bed, swiftly moving on top of you. her tongue found your nipple in an instant and you were fisting the sheets in the hopes of remaining silent. she moved away from your tits, and brought her lips back to yours instead. strands of her hair fell down, tickling your face as you kissed her.
“my teenage wife.” her words were soft and caring as she handled your face gently, rocking her body against yours, painfully slowly.
“billie, please.” you squirmed beneath her touch, engrossed completely by her.
“you’re killing me, babe.” she commented, as she gripped your hips holding them in place. she fiddled with the zip of your jeans and pulled them down quickly. it was getting harder and harder to stay quiet. and when her breath fanned over your pussy, you almost lost it completely.
“god, you’re so wet.” the irony of the comment was clear, god wouldn’t forgive you for your sins, not when you commit them so willingly.
“billie, just do something.” her breath on your heat was driving you wild. but soon, her tongue took residence on your clit, nipping at it. you covered your mouth with your hand, muffling the sounds you couldn’t prevent from escaping. your other hand, found itself knotted in her hair, when you felt her fingers graze your entrance. she groaned when you pulled harshly, and she dipped her fingers into your hole.
“fuck, billie.” she lapped up your juices, her fingers pumping inside of you as your thighs squeezed your head.
“shh, you’ve got to stay quiet, beautiful.” her other hand reached for yours which had briefly left her hair, and she locked fingers with you, squeezing your hand.
“fuck, i-i’m tryingg.” her thumb started toying with your clit as she moved her body up your own, kissing your skin until she reached your lips. her tongue slid into your mouth, letting you taste yourself on her. your body arched into her, pushing her fingers deeper until you were unraveling on her.
“that’s it, my girl. make a mess of my fingers. she swallowed your moan with her mouth and pulled her fingers out of you. when her lips left yours she replaced them with her fingers, urging you to let them in.
“billie.” she kissed your nose before slumping besides you, caressing your hair as you put your ear to her chest.
you’d signed your name in pen, mrs. eilish. a decision you’d soon be asked to take back. but how could you? how could you give up on her?
“i’ve had a hell of a summer.” she sighed, the sound of her heartbeat fading as she pulled away from you.
“but i have to go.” emotion seeped from the knot in her eyebrows as she got up from your bed. you moved to rest where she’d been laying, feeling the warmth encompassing your body.
“when will i see you again?” she took a moment to think, knowing she didn’t have an answer. the both of you had lives to get back to. reality.
“soon. i promise.” she blew you a kiss and climbed out your window. and it felt like an American divorce.
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ellephlox · 10 months ago
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Solidarity
Summary: Frank enlists your help on a dangerous mission. Matt’s not happy about it.
Pairings: Matt x f!reader, platonic Frank Castle & f!reader, platonic Matt & Frank
Warning: Strong profanity (looking at you, Frank). Canon-typical violence. There’s also dog abuse in this, so please proceed with caution!
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“You will not believe how terrible my day was.” You were already complaining aloud as you started up the stairs to Matt’s apartment, perfectly aware that he’d be able to hear you. “My boss gave me triple the amount of work that’s humanly possible to complete within a month and somehow he expects me to do it within a week. And then he had the audacity to tell me that I shouldn’t wear my hair in a ponytail because it’s ‘too informal’ for the face of the company. I mean, what the hell does that even mean?”
One of Matt’s neighbors opened their apartment door as you marched up the steps, and you quickly lifted your phone to your ear as though you were talking to someone, lest they think you were just talking to yourself. “And then my coworker took my data — you know, all that stuff I had been inputting onto that Google Doc the other day? And he presented it as his own, no credit to me. I can’t even report him because he’s supposed to retire in a week so it’s pointless anyway.” 
You continued to gripe as you unlocked the door, chucking your keys down and tossing your shoes off so violently that they hit the wall. “Anyway, I’m in a bad mood now, so I have two propositions — well, demands, I guess — for you. One: We watch Jeopardy tonight. In pajamas. I will object if you’re still wearing a tie.” You unzipped your coat and tossed it haphazardly onto the coat rack. “Two: My friend asked if we’ve ever showered together before — you know, typical girl talk questions — and I told her we hadn’t, so I was thinking—” You stopped dead as you entered the living room, your stomach plummeting. Leaning on the wall by the window, arms crossed, was Matt, wearing his devil suit, complete with the helmet on and his billy clubs dangling in his hands. And across from him, standing with an actual gun in his hand, was Frank Castle. Mortification sent heat into your face, and for a moment you just stood there, at a loss for words. 
“We have company,” Matt said dryly, uncrossing his arms and standing up straight.
“I can see that,” you said finally. “You didn’t think to... I don’t know, shoot a text warning me?” Your cheeks were searing; had you seriously just proposed showering with Matt in front of the Punisher, of all people? 
“I was a bit preoccupied all day with making sure Trigger Happy over here didn’t shoot anyone,” Matt said, his jaw tense. 
Frank snorted. “Red, you’d be bleeding out in an alley if I hadn’t saved your ass. Get off your high horse.”
“Yeah. Okay. But you couldn’t have said something, anything at all, when I walked in?  Like, ‘Hey, honey, there’s a wanted fugitive standing in our living room, just so you know.’ Sorry, Mr. Castle,” you added in an undertone to him. “Um — I’m not trying to make you feel unwelcome or anything, I just feel a bit awkward about earlier, so—”
“Doesn’t matter,” Frank said shortly, his gaze still trained on Matt. “We gonna stand here with your girl watching us and argue all afternoon? Or are we going to get this done?”
“Get what done?” you asked.
It was Frank who answered, and from the way Matt was standing with his back straight as a ruler now, you had the sense he wasn’t pleased, for whatever reason. “There’s a shipment of heroin that’s supposed to arrive tonight. The dealers have been selling to kids on the street to make a quick buck.”
“It’s due to come in at midnight,” Matt said. “But the source I talked to last night doesn’t know which dock.”
You made of sound of sympathy. “I take it you’ll be having to sweep a lot of territory tonight, then?”
“That’s a damn understatement,” Frank said. “We’re not just talking about the docks in Hell’s Kitchen, ma’am. We’re talking all the way down to Chelsea, and the piers in Brooklyn Heights.”
“But that’s impossible to scope out,” you said slowly. “Even if Matt’s standing in the center of all the docks in Hell’s Kitchen, he couldn’t possibly hear all the way down to Chelsea, let alone Brooklyn.”
“Which is why we’re in for a rough night,” Matt said. “I called Jessica, Luke, and Danny. They’re all out of town.” He jutted his chin at Frank. “And that’s why we’re here together.”
“I ain’t happy about it either,” Frank added. “He’s already talking my ass off about moral obligation and shit. Feels like I’m in church.”
"Because you tried to stab the guy in the throat after he gave us information we needed.”
“If you could see, Red, then you’d know from the look in that guy’s eyes that he planned on murdering us the second that we turned our backs on him—”
“Which is why I tied him up and left him for Mahoney.”
“I have a better idea,” you said, cutting in before anything could escalate. “I can help.” 
Matt’s response was immediate and scathing. “No.”
"Oh, come on — I get it if you want to do your whole ‘Fly home, Buddy, I work alone’ thing, but you’re not working alone, you’re working with the Punish— I mean, Mr. Castle. I’ll be supremely insulted forever if you don’t let me help.”
“If you think that I’ll let those dealers anywhere near you—” Matt began, but you interrupted again.
“Look, I’ve always waited here patiently and uselessly while you do your deviling every night, but can’t you give me a chance? Maybe we’ll be a dream team. Terrific trio. Second Edition Avengers. The Scooby gang minus a talking dog.”
“She could help, Red,” Frank said, sending an unreadable look in your direction. “I say we do it. She can camp out at Brooklyn. I mean, the guy said that they could dock there, but they never have before. Odds are they’ll be in Chelsea or Hell’s Kitchen.”
“So, what? We throw her to the wolves in Brooklyn where we can’t get to her easily if things go south?” Matt looked as though he were about two seconds from socking Frank in the jaw. Or worse, two seconds from handcuffing you to the apartment so that you wouldn’t leave. 
“No,” you said firmly. “Things won’t go south. Matt, I’m not going to... I don’t know, engage in a fight with them. I’m not a vigilante. I’ll just hide and keep an eye on the docks, then if they show up, I’ll call you.”
“I’ll stay in Chelsea,” Frank said. “I know you get all weird about the Kitchen, Red, so it’s all yours.”
Matt was standing stock still, grinding his teeth. Finally he ground out, “It’s too dangerous.”
“So is driving a car. So is crossing the street. And yet I’ve done both many, many times,” you said. “I’ll be completely fine. Why would dealers have any reason to go after a random passerby, even if they did see me? Which they won’t,” you added hurriedly. “Because I’ll stay safely out of sight.”
“Perfect.” Frank checked his watch. “I ain’t staying here while we twiddle our thumbs and wait for midnight to roll around. Give Y/N my burner number, Red.”
“I’d never have thought you’d do this, Frank,” Matt said, his voice low. “I thought you at least were on my side when it came to keeping people safe who—”
“Who are what?” you said sharply. “I might not have... superpowers, or, I don’t know, a weird bloodthirstiness — sorry again, Mr. Castle — but I can still help.”
“Call me Frank.” Frank leveled his gaze at you. “And cut the apologizing shit.”
“Uh. Okay.” You had to bite your tongue to keep from apologizing again.
And, somehow, you actually ended up on the mission. You took the C train down to Brooklyn Heights after enduring a very long and very dry lecture from Matt on how you were to stay out of sight no matter what and to call him should any boat arrive with men wearing ski masks. 
And, in all honesty, you weren’t nervous. The likelihood of the dealers showing up at your assigned docks was slim. And even if they did, you’d just have to make a quick phone call to both of them, and then camp out. Easy-peasy. 
You settled in on a wooden bench overlooking the piers, wishing you had worn more than your jacket. The temperature had dropped more than expected when the sun had set, and now you shivered slightly, the cold metal of a knife against your thigh. Just in case. 
How exactly you were actually out here, on a real mission, with Matt willingly letting you out of his protection, you weren’t sure. It was exhilarating, though. The city was dark, yet not really; it was aglow with the street lamps and headlights and apartment windows whose blinds hadn’t been closed yet. You scrunched up your legs to conserve body heat and regretted not bringing a blanket, too. And a pillow. That would’ve made the bench slightly less rock hard against your bottom. 
Seriously, how did Matt do this kind of thing every night? Fifteen minutes in and you were already missing the warmth of home. 
You glanced at the skyline. Somewhere, on the other side of those skyscrapers, Matt was waiting as well. Probably he wasn’t curled up on a bench like you were, though. It was more likely that he’d be stalking the rooftops, or pacing in the shadows. 
And then movement caught your eye, at just after 12:30 in the morning. You scrambled to your feet, squinting in the dark. It was a boat, fast approaching the pier just next to you. 
No way. Yeah, you were on lookout, but somehow you’d convinced yourself that the dealers wouldn’t actually show up on your end. You waited to call Frank and Matt, though, because in case it was a different boat, you didn’t want to raise a false alarm. You moved away from your bench and began walking leisurely down the pier, as though you were going for a nighttime stroll. All you needed to do was get a good glimpse of them, then you’d head up the street where you could watch from a safer spot. 
“In, out! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” someone said, a bit loudly, from the deck of the ship. You swiveled your head to see him, and sure enough, he had a ski mask. Swiftly you pulled out your phone and fire off a quick text to both Matt and Frank. You were about to leave the pier altogether when a bark made you stop short. 
....A dog?
“Shut the bitch up!” one of the men snarled. “We get caught, then all the goods get seized.”
“She’s been fucking howling the whole way, what am I supposed to do?”
“Give her a piece of food.”
“What food? You ate the rest of it, man.”
“Can’t believe we’re bringing this dog anyway. Boss already has six bitches. Why does he need another?”
“She’s some special breed, or some shit, I don’t know. Sells for a thousand bucks a pop. Grab that box. Like I said — in, out. We’re already late.”
The dog kept barking, though, and you winced as the man kicked the poor thing in the ribs. Piece of shit. You wanted to go up there and throttle him yourself. If Matt or Frank would just get here already, then you’d be able to relax, but it would still be at least twenty minutes...
And what if the dealers got away in that time frame?
The dog started barking again, and suddenly, without any word of warning, one of the men picked the dog up like a sack of potatoes and threw her overboard. “To hell with the extra cash. That’s how you deal with security problems,” you heard him say as he wiped his hands on his pants. “Get moving, go, go, go! Unload this shit so we can get out of here!”
Below, the dog’s frantic head slipped below the surface.
Oh, hell no. 
Your feet were moving even before you could make an executive decision in your mind. The cold of the evening was forgotten, as were Matt’s strict words to not be seen, no matter what happens, and you dove into the water, where the dog had fell beneath the black waves beside the pier. 
Fortunately, it was summer, and as shockingly cold as the water was, it wasn’t anywhere near deathly cold. You couldn’t see anything, and desperately tried to listen for the dog, but you didn’t have Matt’s ears, and for a moment panic swelled inside you that this dog would drown, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing. 
And then you saw movement, out of the corner of your eye. The dog was struggling to stay afloat, her snout barely making it out of the water. You grabbed her around the middle and kicked with all your might, coughing on water and unable to see hardly anything except for the blurry outline of the pier. There had to be a ladder somewhere along there, and you groped blindly along the edge, seeking out a grip to pull yourself and the dog up. 
For a moment, you completely forgot about the dealers behind you. All you could think about was getting the dog safely onto land, and with a massive effort you lifted her up. Her paws scrambled against the edge of the pier, but with a good shove to her rump, she was able to get over the edge and dash away into the shadows. 
Good luck out there, doggie. You started to climb the ladder yourself, but froze when you heard the telltale click of a gun being cocked in front of you. Slowly you looked up, your blood running cold at the sight of a gun pointed straight at your forehead. The man holding it had his hair tied back in a bun, and there was a horrible expression on his face that told you he wouldn’t have any qualms about pulling the trigger. 
“Should I shoot, boss?” he asked, his eyes not moving from your face. “Stupid girl’s seen us. She’ll probably run her mouth and tell the cops.”
Your brain felt as though it were short-circuiting. “I swear, I won’t tell a soul. You have my word. Really, I’ll just leave here, and I promise—”
“Do it!” one of the men shouted from the boat. “Get it done so you can get your ass back up here to help. You know how many bodies there are in the Upper Bay? She’ll just be another.”
Your heart was punching the inside of your rib cage. You considered falling backwards to try to swim away, but what good would it do? There was no other way to get back onto land nearby except for this ladder, and you didn’t trust yourself to swim around the boat and across to the next pier without simply getting shot en route. Lunging up the rest of the ladder to fight him was an even worse option. Even if you could fight like Matt (which you could safely say was not the case), you were at a disadvantage; he had the high ground. 
But you didn’t have a choice. The man lunged down and grabbed you by the collar of your jacket, hoisting you up onto the pier. You shivered violently, unsure of whether it was from fear or cold. The man looked you over. “Could hold her for ransom, Tom. That’d bring in some extra cash.”
“No.” The man, who must’ve been Tom, shook his head. “That’s just a surefire way to get attention from the cops. Let’s take her in. We’ll kill her once we’re back on open water and dump her body in the Atlantic. Much cleaner that way.”
The man holding you grunted in agreement and shoved you forward up the ramp to the boat. You obeyed only because of the gun pressed against your temple, feeling like you might vomit any second. 
Where are Matt and Frank? The night was as still as a reflecting pool. It was as though the city itself had gone to sleep, abandoning you to these men, and you had to choke down the rising lump in your throat that was making you feel like you might cry any second or pass out. But tears wouldn’t come, as you were led into a cabin, your mouth promptly duct-taped closed. The sensation made you panic even more — a little air could get through to your nose, but not much, and the sudden feeling of being near to asphyxiation made you even more light-headed. 
The men, however, seemed to forget about you as soon as they tied you to the chair. That they hadn’t killed you immediately was the most relieving of mercies, and you struggled fruitlessly to escape your bonds, feeling supremely useless. Surely Matt would arrive any second; he would hear exactly where you were, you reasoned, and he’d make his way to you as soon as he could. Any minute you’d hear the sound of a baton ricocheting off some unfortunate skulls or the cracking as bones shattered under his fists. 
But instead, it was bullets you heard first. Frank. You gritted your teeth, hearing the shouts of men that were surely being killed without a second thought. Hopping with your feet, you were able to wiggle your chair forward slightly until you could see outside the cabin door. Frank’s silhouette was a menacing shape against the moonlight. 
Where is Matt?
One of the largest men — Tom, you recalled — suddenly came barreling into the room, a gun in his hand. He untied you violently, yanking the rope so roughly against your wrists that you gasped under the tape, and then dragged you forward, the gun against your head. Unceremoniously you were toppled from the chair, your knees slamming down onto hard wood. 
“Drop your gun!” Tom jabbed his gun against your forehead so hard that you saw stars. “Drop it now and put your hands behind your head, or I’ll blow her brains out!”
Through your fuzzy vision you saw Frank freeze. His gaze was cold; calculating, and for the first time you wondered what your value was in Frank’s mind, compared to the triumph of offing some criminals. Which was worth more to him? For a moment, you feared he would prioritize killing the smugglers. His fist clenched even tighter around the gun, and he drew in level breaths, without lowering his gaze for even a second. 
“I swear to God I’m pulling this trigger in ten seconds if you don’t drop it,” Tom said, and he dragged the tip of the gun so that it was placed precisely against your temple. Water was still dripping from your clothing and goosebumps were raised so violently on your skin that you felt like you had chicken pox, but that was nothing compared to the electric adrenaline shooting down your spine, as though your nervous system was screaming at you to do something, anything, but it was to no avail; all you could do was stay on your knees, as still as possible, and keep your head lowered. 
And then, as though he’d made a snap decision, Frank set the gun down.
“Kick it over here,” Tom ordered. 
Frank obeyed, slowly raising his hands to his head. “The gun’s down,” he said. “Now let her go.”
Tom’s grip on you tightened. “You’re a fool,” he said, and suddenly you knew what was about to happen, from the steadying of his hands and the firmer press of the gun against your temple. You wrenched yourself away from him, just as the bullet fired off, and the heat of it barely grazed your shoulder as you dove away. 
The victory was short-lived, though. Tom aimed again, and this time you were on the ground, with nowhere to go. You screwed your eyes shut, sending a silent apology to Matt, and...
The bullet never came. 
Gingerly you opened your eyes to see the devil punching Tom with all his wrath and fury. Frank had already picked up his gun again and was running towards the back of the boat, where you knew there were still a few more crew members. Quickly you crawled backwards to get out of the path of Matt and Tom, the latter of whom was being thrown against the cabin wall. 
That had been close. Way, way too close. You fumbled for the duct tape and ripped it off your mouth, lightheaded from breathing irregularly. Stars formed in front of your vision and you had to slow yourself down, drawing in air and then releasing it slowly. 
Matt was still slamming his fist into the face of Tom, and blood was spurting everywhere. You squinted at them, your heart dropping — far too much blood was spraying out, and Matt was showing no signs of slowing down —
“It’s okay. You’ve got him,” you whispered, the words coming out of your mouth in a rasp. “Matt.”
Matt dropped Tom, who slid to the ground, unconscious. Using the edge of the boat to support yourself, you stood up slowly, and limped over to Matt; your knees were still aching from earlier. Gently you reached towards his shoulders. “I can call 911.”
“He deserves to die.”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” you said. Matt was in a dangerous anger, you could tell; one wrong move and he’d do something he’d regret for the rest of his life. Choosing the right words now was imperative. “A judge will decide that.”
“He tried to kill you,” Matt snapped, whirling around and knocking your arm off his shoulder. “If he had — if he’d succeeded—”
“But he didn’t.”
“Does that matter?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but Frank got there first. “Cool down, Red,” he said, as nonchalantly as though you were all at dinner together. “Your girl’s safe. We got the drugs before they could get shipped.”
“Don’t talk to me like I need to be calmed down,” Matt said, his voice hardly more than a snarl. 
Frank stared at Matt for a few moments. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “To answer your question. It does matter that he tried killing her.” Then, without warning, he shot Tom, square in the forehead. You yelped, looking away from the bloody hole where his head was now caved in. His features were unrecognizable, and hollow in death, and yet you couldn’t help looking back at him, his eyes meeting yours as though he still were alive. 
“Get her out of here. Warm her up,” Frank said, nodding at you. “I’ve got other business to do this evening.”
“Other business?” you asked, but Matt was reaching for you, skating his hands over your body. 
“Sorry,” you said lamely, shaking slightly from the adrenaline. “I sort of disobeyed the only rule.”
“You could have died.”
“But there was a dog, and I had to save it — they tossed the poor thing overboard. I couldn’t just sit by.”
And, to your surprise, Matt’s lips cracked into a small smile. Though you couldn’t see his eyes under the mask, you could feel his warmth. “Yeah. I know the feeling.”
Frank was gone already. Together, you and Matt exited the boat, and it took all of your willpower to not look back at the corpse. 
“So,” you said, taking Matt’s hand as you walked down the dark street together. The feeling of the duct tape was lingering on your mouth, and the way that you had been tied up — the gun against your head — and it was making your heart race. Even though Matt would see right through you (hear right through you?), you adopted a casual tone. “How was my audition? Can I officially be the Assistant Daredevil?”
“You’re deflecting.”
“I’m not deflecting. I’m just wondering if I passed some sort of test, and if you’ll let me join you now—”
“Sweetheart.” Matt stopped short and pulled you into the shadows between buildings. “You’re not fooling me.”
“I’m not trying to fool you.” Your mouth was dry. 
“That was intense. You don’t have to pretend it wasn’t. You could’ve died.” Matt’s voice shook a bit, and you were reminded that as terrifying as it was for you, it had probably been even worse for Matt. Because if you had died, and it was technically on his watch... yeah. That wouldn’t have gone over well. 
You cupped his face, and he leaned into it slightly. “Okay. I’m a bit freaked out. But I’m okay.”
“Who’s reassuring who, now?” he said after a moment, and that warm, small smile returned. He pulled you in closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly enough that you had to draw in a short breath. 
“Maybe...” Your voice came out in a whisper. “Maybe we both need it tonight.” 
A/N: Sorry for the slightly rushed ending but this was beginning to expand a bit too much and I didn’t want it to feel like it should have multiple chapters. Honestly, I wasn’t happy with this piece so it’s been sitting in my drafts for about a year now, but it’s been awhile since I posted a one shot, so... here we are.
Hope you all had a great day, thanks so much for reading! 
-Elle
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little-miss-dilf-lover · 1 month ago
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FRANK CASTLE day 8 (15, oct) — period sex
18+ fem!reader, 706 words. mdni!!
KINKTOBER MASTERLIST ⋆ ˚。𖦹.
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Frank’s cock rests heavy on your lower stomach, the weight of him very noticeable through his jeans. The motion of his hips is near non-existent, the subtle grind-like movement simply a way to ease some of the frustrations — alleviate the aches within you both. 
His lips graze roughly over yours, a hand clasped tight to yours above your head, his hold keeping you pinned to the pillow. His other is placed under your chin, thumb and fingers gently dimpling your cheeks.
And with your spare hand, you’re running it eagerly down his bare spine, fingers slinking into the back of his jeans, desperately trying to get him out of them. Your hips roll on instinct, the need for him far more intense on your period.
“What’s all the rush?” he murmurs against your lips, the question almost rhetorical. 
The query felt like a tease, his ask only amplifying those frustrations you struggled to contain. All you could muster in response is a whiney, breathy sound, the noise muffling in his mouth. 
“Come on,” you urge with a whisper, thighs clamping together. 
As he parts, he presses a quick, faint kiss to the tip of your nose, simultaneously letting go of his dual hold on your hand and face. He shifts his weight, peeling from his hover-like position to a kneeled one between your legs — hands resting over the inners of your thighs to keep him ‘balanced.’
He draws slow, easy circles over your skin, rough fingers tracing the goosebumps with his eyes locked down on yours. Gaze remains on you as he slips a hand down the front of his jeans, his sole visual focus obtained by you as he gives his cock a quick palm over.
You adjust the old towel under your ass, straightening the worn-out, ratty fabric while Frank preps himself — unbuttoning his jeans to pull his dick out over the top. He strokes over himself briskly as he adjusts his position, itching closer to your bare cunt ahead. 
He places his spare hand on your hip, large manish fingers pawing carefully at your sore and tender skin, trying his best to soothe the other aches in your body.
“Gon’ get messy, sweetheart,” he husks, eyes focused on his cock in hand. 
His head bumps up against you, the mere, slight contact you urgently craved makes you shudder — a slight jolt in your stomach immediately catching Frank’s attention. His eyes flash up to yours, silently checking you over with that signature query-like glance. 
You’re quick to dismiss any worry, brushing off his look with an eager nod. And only when he knows you’re okay, he’s feeding his cock into you, thumb resting over his shaft to control the movement. He ever so slowly dips into you, pushing himself fully inside until his balls are pressing up against your lips — cock filling you up entirely. 
He keeps his eyes on your cunt as he pulls out, seeing all evidence of your period: streaks and splotches of blood running up the length of his dick. The sight of blood proving to mean nothing to the ‘Big Bad Punisher.’
He feeds himself back into you, eyes locked down below.
“Feelin’ like heaven,” he whispers, voice hoarse.
And with his hand secure around your hip, he drags it upwards, running up your side until he’s cupped under one of your tits — calloused, manly hands contradicting his careful touch. Leaning over you, he resumes his prior hovered position, his face mere inches from yours as he begins his very gentle rocking. His free hand firmly situated beside you for stability.
You wrap your hand around his lower arm beside your head, fingers far from connecting around the meat of it. Just holding onto him like you were seeking comfort. And as you’re pawing at his beefy upper wrist, his head is ducking to your chest — the hand occupied with your tit pushing it upwards to meet his mouth. 
He peppers the upper of your breast in soft kisses, his lips grazing the sore and tender skin to the same pace of his slow, irregular strokes. Matching his caress-like kissing to his fucking, the dual act like an attempt to ease all the aches and pains in your body. 
⎯ ☆ ⎯
timing was crazy for this one bc by the time I got around to writing it, I got my period??? nuts
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to-thelakes · 10 months ago
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banged up
pairing; frank castle x fem!reader
summary; after being friends with daredevil gets you into a sticky situation, frank takes care of your wounds
warnings; fluff, hurt/comfort, reader is very injured but also very stubborn, soft frank, not proof-read, mentions of torture + wounds. some insecurity from reader
notes; okay this one-shot was written ages ago and i just got reminded that i could post it when i got an anon request (which i am going to work on if that anon sees this post ;) ) about the reader not liking swallowing pills. that's a big thing in this fic because I have been taking like 4-5 medication/supplements a day for the past 6+ months and honestly, i hate it. so so does the reader here <3 i hope you enjoy this little fic, i was debating on writing a part 2 that would be a little more angst-focused because frank hates when people he cares about gets hurt but feel free to lmk if y'all would be interested in that <3
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part two
“Hey, hey,” A gruff voice pulled you back from unconsciousness. Your eyes slowly blinked open and the first thing you felt was pain. A cry escaped your lips as your hand shot to your side where the pain seemed to be radiating from. But the quick movement only seemed to make you feel worse and you cried out again, “Stop- Stop moving,” The voice repeated. It took you a minute for your eyes to adjust to the gloom and you turned your head to see Frank kneeling on the edge of the bed. There was a frown on his lips.
“It hurts,” You muttered. He sighed and gently took a hold of your bandaged wrist, pulling it down towards your side again.
“I know, sweetheart. You gotta stop moving,” He retorted. Your eyes fell closed again, the pain seemed to be coming from everywhere. Your side is where it hurt the most and as you shifted, the pain rocketted through your system. Eyes squeezed shut and another whimper fell from your lips. Frank sighed, “Sweetheart.” His tone was a warning and you balled your hands into fists by your side which made more pain shoot up.
“What happened?” Your voice was croaky. Your throat was dry and even trying to say a word made your body hurt. Your throat was scratchy, it was so uncomfortable. A ragged breath escaped your lips and you heard Frank’s heavy footsteps moving away from the bed.
“You got banged up pretty bad. Gotta stay there, sweetheart,” He insisted as his footsteps only seemed to get further away. Your eyes opened again and you turned your head to see that he was in the other room of your apartment. You didn’t know what he was doing and you knew that you should have stayed down but you never really listened to him.
With a deep breath, you slowly pushed yourself to sit up. It made your entire body ache and you cried out when the pain bloomed across your side again. But you fought against it to get onto your feet. Frank came rushing back into the room and managed to catch you just as you were about to fall on your ass. You hadn’t expected your ankle to hurt as much as it had when you put pressure on it.
“I told you to keep your ass on the bed,” He snapped. Though there wasn’t as much conviction behind his words as there usually was when it came to Frank. If anything, he seemed concerned that you were hurting yourself.
“What happened,” You repeated your earlier question. Frank sighed and he led you back to the bed so that you could sit down.
“Told ya,” He retorted. You scoffed and then whimpered when your side began to hurt again. Frank gave you a warning look before he disappeared out of the room again so that he could get the glass of water and painkillers he had initially gone out for. The room was silent and it made you pause, you could vaguely remember it now. The torture. The men. You didn’t even know who they were but they wanted to know who Daredevil was. They needed Matt’s identity and they were willing to kill you to get it.
“Where’s Matt?” You croaked out as Frank walked back into your bedroom with a glass of water and pills. You stared at them and then at him. He knew that you hated taking pills. You always bought the liquid form for your own sake. The only reason you had normal pills is because of him and Matt and Karen for when her periods got bad.
“He’s patrolling, making sure you’ll be safe,” Frank explained. You were glaring at the pills that he offered out to you and he sighed. He placed the glass on the table and put the pills next to it, “You’re a real pain in my ass, you know that?” You rolled your eyes and watched as he walked back to the kitchen. Everything hurt. Your face, your body, your feet, your ankles, your hands. When you lifted your hands up, you could make out the bruises in the gloom and there were ugly marks around your wrists from where you had been tied up.
You shoved your hands under your armpits, hiding them from your sight as you waited for Frank to return but even that movement made you hiss out in pain. After a moment Frank returned, with your usual bottle of painkillers. You always bought the kids stuff because it was the only one that was reliably in liquid form. You knew it was silly but you hated swallowing pills and your periods were too bad to force yourself to swallow them down.
“Thank you,” You mumbled. He nodded and then he got onto his knees in front of you so that he was on your level. He didn’t want to make you feel any worse by looming above you as he spoon-fed you painkillers like he would a baby.
“I patched you up. Red dealt with the rest,” Frank informed as he poured some of the liquid onto a spoon with the precision only a Marine would have. Usually, you spilt the liquid everywhere but he seemed to have practice with it.
“Explains why it hurts so much,” You retorted, practically teasing him. He narrowed his eyes, holding the spoon of painkillers away from you, “Frank,” You whined. He chuckled and then moved the spoon forward so that you could take it into your mouth. You swallowed down the liquid and watched as he poured another spoonful, “How long is it gonna hurt for?” It was a stupid question, you knew that. It was probably going to hurt for weeks, if not months considering the damage that they had done but you wanted him to lie.
“You’ll just have to see, sweetheart. Gonna have to take some time off work with an injury like that,” He said as he held the spoon out to you again. You took it gratefully and then he poured another one just for good measure.
“My boss is gonna kill me,” You mumbled. Frank scoffed and he then held the last spoonful of medicine out to you.
“If he gives ya any trouble, I’ll deal with it.” If it was anyone else, you would have laughed off those words but this was Frank and you knew he meant what he said. A soft sigh escaped your lips once Frank put the spoon onto the bedside table. He then twisted the cap back onto the bottle before he placed it down beside your glass of water.
“How bad is it?” You asked after a beat of silence. Frank was just looking at you, concern etched across his features.
“I’d still call you a pretty lady,” He said. You let out a soft huff and glanced over at the water but Frank passed it before you could hurt yourself doing it. You took the glass gratefully and cautiously took a long sip. It soothed your dry throat and you were so glad to get something to drink. You were sure that you were incredibly dehydrated after all the tears and the blood.
Frank took the glass back from you when you had drained the whole thing and he slowly got to his feet. It seemed he was going to get you another glass and you wanted to go with him. So, once he was in the other room, you pushed yourself to your feet again. It was slow and you made sure to keep the pressure off anywhere that hurt and you were on your feet, comfortably.
Each step was slow and he heard you step into the other room, his head snapping back. He narrowed his eyes, placing the water jug down before he turned to look at you. He shook his head slightly at the fact that you were walking around.
“They could have done worse,” You said before he got the chance to comment, “Can still walk.” There was a small smile on your face, trying to make light of what had happened but it was hard considering how much your body hurt with every movement.
“Don’t tempt them, darling,” He retorted. You made it over to the kitchen counter and he took a hold of your waist, keeping you steady as you took the glass. You downed the water again before placing the glass down and limping over to the fridge. You needed something to eat, your stomach was growling for it but when you looked inside, there were no leftovers. Your roommate - who worked the night shift - must have taken them with her.
“Hungry?” He asked. You nodded and he glanced over your shoulder before he grabbed a few things from the shelves, “I’ll make you something, go lie on the couch.” You let out something akin to a ‘yes’ before you hobbled over to the sofa and lay down. Your head hurt, your body hurt and you were glad that Frank was here.
<3
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thelostmagicians · 1 year ago
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Unlucky | Lip Gallagher
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Summary: Lip Gallagher has a shitty life, but he still has a chance of a happy future with you. [2.4k]
Fluff, comfort, slight angst, insecure Lip
Lip Gallagher has always considered himself unlucky for as long as he could remember. If you asked him to describe his life in five words he’d use shitty, really shitty, and extremely shitty.  
He was dealt a crappy hand since the beginning not standing a fighting chance even as a kid. 
There was always so much crap to deal with, whether it was bills that needed to be paid, kids that need to be taken care of, or anything dealing with Frank and Monica, sometimes he felt as if the weight of the world was resting on his chest and the only breath he’d be able to take peacefully would be his final one. He’s grateful for all the help he has because everyone pulls their weight as much as they can, but sometimes he just wishes life was just a little bit kinder to him. He wishes that he was able to do something with his high IQ, make something of himself and finally get out of this hell hole, but that didn’t roll over so well. But just as he was slowly losing hope the universe finally took pity on him and gave him you, so now he’s hanging onto you with everything he’s got. 
_
It’s quiet in the Gallagher household when Lip shuffles out of bed. He can’t remember the last time he was able to sleep past 7am, so when he wakes up to birds chirping at 9am instead of the usual yelling and chaos, he’s surprised and even a little scared. He makes his way towards the bathroom getting ready to fight whoever is next in line, but finds it empty and even clean. He’s shuffling around, looking through doors to find a sense of life in his otherwise loud home when he hears a squeal from the backyard. He doesn’t think twice before grabbing a nearby bat and hurtling through the backdoor towards the pool, but he stops once he sees the atmosphere is anything, but fearful. Frannie is being tossed back and forth between Carl and Mickey in the pool, Fiona and Ian are chasing Liam with the garden hose and Debbie is bringing in watered down lemonade from the kitchen. 
He has no idea what caused this change of pace, but he isn’t mad about it. Just as he’s about to make himself known, he feels a soft touch caressing his back. 
“Hey baby,” you whisper, brushing your lips against his neck. 
He turns his head at your sweet voice finally fully awakening his sleepy trance. Lip tugs you towards him by the belt loops of your, too short, cut off shorts and breathes into your neck. Hands slowly creeping down towards your ass to grab and pet, not socially acceptable in front of family, but he couldn’t care less. 
“Hi, sweetheart,” he rasps into the valley of your chest, slightly picking you up to hug you closer. “What’s going on out here?”
“Thought everyone could use a day off especially in this heat, so Debs and I planned a pool party. Wanna join me?”
He pulls back on slightly to finally get a look at your face, your eyes are kind and happy followed by a mischievous smile. 
“Sure, let me get my trunks on and I’ll be down soon.” You reward him with a soft peck on his chapped lips and an arm squeeze before moving out of his hold and grabbing some leftover toast. 
The day goes by without a hitch. Everyone enjoys the much deserved break filled with laughter, junk food, and only a few fights. You’re nearly on top of Lip as you cuddle as close as you can basking in the happiness before you get ready to go out. There are only a handful of days that you and Lip both get off at the same time, so any day given is taken as a golden opportunity to spend some time together, leaving your worries at home. You plant a small peck to Lip’s cheek before untangling yourself from his hold as he answers the ringing phone. 
You don’t hear much of the conversation, just faint hmms of acknowledgement as you're flying past rooms trying to get ready as fast as you can. You’re struggling with your heels as Lip comes over and steadies you, your smile meeting with his frown.
“Sweetheart, they called me in to cover someone else’s shift and you know I hate to do this, but they’re offering me time and half..” he trails off.
A quick look of disappointment flashes on your face, before you cover it up with a reassuring look. You’re disappointed, sure, but not at Lip. Never at Lip. Just the shitty circumstances that forces the both of you to work as much as you can just to make ends meet.  
“It’s okay, I get it. We can always reschedule, don’t worry about it.” You pull him in and hold on to his waist hoping to ease his guilt, but your efforts go to waste as his eyebrows stay furrowed and his frown deepens. 
“I’ll make it up to you, I swear it,” Lip murmurs against your lips before squeezing your arm and letting you go. 
You watch him leave, slowly pulling off your heels and plopping yourself on the old couch, sighing already missing Lip. Your eyes shift trying to think of things to do now that your night opened up, but your mind keeps drifting back to Lip. You had eaten dinner earlier with everyone, skipping out on dessert and opting to get your fill when you go out, but now that plans have changed you were now missing both your boyfriend and something sweet to nibble on.
You quickly change out of your clothes and put on a pair of old shorts before deciding to make a batch of brownies. Lip works hard and if you guys couldn’t go out for dessert tonight, then you were going to bring dessert to him. 
He’s halfway through his shift when he spots you coming in, hands holding a tupperware to your chest. 
“Honey, what are you doing down here,” he shouts from across the room.
“Wanted to spend some time with you before I leave for my shift. I made some brownies since we missed dessert, care to join me?” you plead hopefully.
Lip’s heart aches with love and a lot of guilt. He can’t believe you would go through all that trouble just to see him. He calls out to say he’s taking his break before leading you to a secluded corner. 
“I’m really sorry about today,” he hugs you from behind swaying back and forth, mouth opening occasionally as you feed him a chunk of the sweet treat. 
You squeeze his wrist in response, “s’lright you can’t help it. I just like spending time with you.”
He smiles softly for the first time that night, stress immediately leaving his body. “Though, I love that you did all this for me, I don’t love the idea that you were walking alone this late at night.”
“Guess I’ll have to keep you company until you can walk me home then,” you compromise. 
Lip’s shift goes by somewhat fast now that you’re here to keep him company. He’ll leave his station sporadically to check up on you and to keep you from falling asleep. He’s in the final stretch now, only 30 more minutes before you get to go home and fall asleep holding each other, after a long day. He looks over hoping to catch your eye and send you a smile when he feels his face slowly morphing into a glare. A glare aimed at the guy standing way too close to you, a guy whose intentions go beyond a friendly conversation, and a guy who on paper was everything you deserved, but Lip couldn’t be. 
You finally glance at Lip sending a small wave and smile as you keep nodding along to the fucker next to you. He had fluffy brown hair and honestly looked quite plain if it wasn’t for the gleaming rolex on his wrist and the shiny Gucci emblem on his belt. He was a rich kid, probably from the nearby university, wasting away mommy and daddy’s money, chatting up pretty girls and sweeping them off their feet with his money. Lip’s never felt insecure about your relationship, you never gave him a reason too, but once he compares his ratty jeans and stained shirt to the pristine polo of Richie Rich he can’t help but wonder if he’s good enough for you when you can do so much better.
_
Lip was struggling. He never learned how to tie a tie before and now that the time has come, he’s racking his brain trying to get the knot perfect. He knew you couldn’t care less about a stupid tie, you were anything but superficial, but since that dreaded night when he witnessed you being chatted up by Richie Rich, Lip’s come to the conclusion that he was going to try his hardest to give you the perfect life. 
When Lip proposed going up to the north side for dinner, you were shocked. You’ve been there a few times mostly on walks or running errands, but you’ve never been there to spend actual money considering neither of you could afford it. The most you and Lip would do is windowshop and daydream about the things you would buy if you had the money, before being chased off by the glaring sales people.
He picks you up at your door, pecking your cheek softly and telling you how beautiful you look. He takes your hand and leads you to the borrowed car before pulling out an expensive bouquet from the backseat. Your hands flatter as you mutter a quiet thanks. You’re a little confused at the grand gesture since Lip’s never gotten you flowers before, at least not without reason. He’s gotten you flowers exactly four times since he’s known you: the first on your first date, the second for your graduation, and the last two times for your anniversary. And all those times the flowers were below 5 bucks, something he picked up from the corner store. But the bouquet he gave you now had to be worth at least a day’s salary, you and Lip had a mutual understanding since the start that since money was scarce you wouldn’t spend it on materialistic things for each other, but lately it seems like he forgot that promise. He’s been taking you out to eat nearly everyday, always putting money down and never letting you pay, surprising you with little gifts, but worst of all he’s been running himself haggard, taking up as many shifts as he possibly could. 
He notices your quiet demeanor as he starts driving, “You okay, baby?”
“Yeah, I just…” you hesitate, not wanting to offend him. “I’m grateful for all of this Lip, really I am, I love everything you’ve gotten me, but I’m confused about where you’re getting all the money from and why you’re doing all this in the first place.”
Lip tightens his grip on the wheel, “Isn’t this what you want? Isn’t this what all girls want?” Lip scoffs the memory of Richie Rich slowly coming into picture. 
“I don’t understand what changed, everything was fine before, why are you spending money you don’t have? You don’t think I know that you’re working yourself to death trying to afford this shit?” Your voice raises in annoyance. 
“Yeah, well that’s my problem, it’s none of your concern how I get all this as long as you get it.”
“It is when you’re burning money on materials that won’t even last the year instead of investing in our future.”
Lip pulls to stop as the words leave your mouth. “Our future?” He asks. 
You lick your lips, trying to think of a way to backtrack but his eyes plead with you to tell the truth. “Yeah, our future. You know when we eventually move out, get a place of our own and have a kid or two?”
Lip smiles at the thought, “You want all that with me?”
You nod incredulously, “What did you think this was you idiot? That we were just playing boyfriend/girlfriend? Look I appreciate all these gestures, but the way I see it you’re burning 50 bucks on flowers that are gonna wither in a week instead of spending that money on something like our future house.”
Lip cups your chin in endearment before pulling you in for a quick kiss. “I’m sorry, I let everything get away from me.” He huffs in frustration before letting your chin go and clenching his fists. “It’s just when you visited me at work a few weeks back you were talking to this guy. This very rich guy who… I don’t know… I know you aren’t like that, but I couldn’t help but think this is all I’ll be able to offer you, at least right now. I will never be able to whisk you away on a private jet or buy diamonds just cause.”
You giggle as you hold his face in your soft hands, his head tilting to lean into your palm. “Lip Gallager, for someone with an insanely high IQ, you are so incredibly stupid, ” He huffs out a laugh in embarrassment as you continue, “That guy, that fool was annoying as fuck. I was just trying to get him off my back. And not to mention incredibly fucking stupid. Everything that was coming out of his mouth made me cringe and thank the stars that you’re nothing like him.”
He kisses your palm before pulling you into another kiss. “Can we skip the fancy restaurant now?” you ask as he presses kisses to your pouty lips. 
“Where do you wanna go instead?”
“Family dinner, and then out for ice cream?” you suggest. He nods before putting the car back in drive. 
_
Lip Gallagher was all sorts of fucked up. But somehow in his fucked up life, he managed to find you, his light at the end of a dark, narrow, and gloomy tunnel and he thinks, maybe, he isn’t so unlucky after all.
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chvoswxtch · 8 months ago
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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!
[previous chapter] | [next chapter] | [series masterlist]
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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?”
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 10 months ago
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psssstttt….
using frank’s big, heavy balls to rub your clit and him coming on your pussy from the sight of it then fucking his cum back inside
a/n: sliiightly changed the sluttiness, hope that's okay. i swear, i read it so closely, but i think it might have scrambled my horny brain too much because when i sat down to write it, it unfolded slightly differently (still very close, he just doesn't cum from the sight, he just came and then he starts the whole fantasy)
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
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“O-oh my g-god!” you trembled against the sheets as Frank’s weight lightened and he sat back to marvel at the masterpiece he had just painted on your pussy.
“Damn, sweetheart…” you heard him groan, giving his only half-softened girth a generous squeeze before swiping the bulbous head through his load that glistened on your fluttering pussy. Your frame twitched and jumped lightly at the overstimulation as he rubbed his cum further into your puffy petals. 
His movements soon became so broad that the entirety of his length slid through your folds, up over your sensitive clit and against the lower part of your stomach, smirking at how exceptionally deep he had been just moments before. But when you felt the weight of him against your lower belly, just before he scooped down to repeat the lavish pattern, so too did you feel a different heft rut against your buzzing pearl, a sensation that caused your hazy eyes to roll in your skull. 
Craning down to steal a sloppy peck from your lips, you moaned into his mouth as he purposely nuzzled his heavy sack against your clit. 
“You like that, huh?” he chuckled thickly at your reaction, his sturdy nose grazing against your own, “I thought you were done. I thought you said it was too much and that you just couldn’t take it anymore,” peeling himself off of you once more, he leaned back and tapped the weight of him against your collective mess, “and now you’re fucking purring like I didn’t just cum on your pretty pussy. What am I gonna do with you, huh?” he smiled down you and you felt his palm run up your shivering frame. 
Swiping his thumb across your core, he didn’t clean his cum off of you, but scooped it further down towards your entrance.
Spreading you wide with his digits, you felt the tip of him tease your quivering hole, “you want more, hm? You want me to fuck my cum deep inside of you? Is one load just not enough for my girl today? Because I can keep going, baby. I can keep going till you fucking pass out…”
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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messymissy · 2 years ago
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I am telling you now, reading smut during period it's a pleasant torture 😩. All the jokes aside, Wishing you a speedy recovery friend 🤍
Touch Me (Frank Castle x f!Reader)
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A/N: Hi friends! I know I said I wanted to get this out by yesterday, but I ended up at my local(ish?) urgent care yesterday afternoon because ya girl has apparently been walking around with bronchitis for two weeks now. I’m on medicine, and I’ve been resting/editing this all day, but I could not for the life of me get this thing finished yesterday. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! It is literally porn with plot. P.S. - bearded Frank makes me go absolutely FERAL, and the gif I chose for today's fic makes me even MORE FERAL!!!!!!
Request: if requests are open, do you think you could write about Pete/ Frank still works at the construction site and reader is his girlfriend and she visits him for lunch at the construction site and the guys are astonished and you can come up with the rest if you would like.
Word Count: 4.6k
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Summary: When Frank’s coworkers notice you a little too much after you bring him his forgotten lunch, you want to remind him that he’s the only man for you, but Frank’s a generous lover, and you’re not leaving the truck until he’s made you come at least three times.
(Warnings: oh boy, smut, SMUT, did I mention smut??, porn with plot, v fingering, hand job sort of??, oral (fem receiving), p in v, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie lol, truck sex, soooo much kissing, protective Frank, you save the horse and ride the cowboy – know what I mean??, Frank talks you through it!!!!!, mentions of oral (male receiving), Frank is a consent king, Frank will be damned if anything bad happens to his baby girl!!!)
Frank eyed the clock, a nervous tick he’d developed over the last three hours as he waited for lunchtime to roll around. On any other day, lunch would’ve come and gone without a second thought from Frank, but not today. In his hurry to get to work this morning, he’d left the lunch you’d generously packed for him the night before. It was your fault, technically, but Frank was a gentleman, and gentlemen weren’t supposed to blame their girlfriends for forgotten lunches, especially when it was the incredible head you were giving him that made him late leaving this morning.
He'd gotten shit for it the minute he stepped on the site, barely getting a chance to pour his coffee before the guys were on his ass about his punch card. Frank brushed it off. It was all in good fun anyways, and he was the boss around here, so it didn’t really matter if he was late once in a blue moon. He didn’t divulge the reason for his tardiness, much more inclined to grunt a “fuck off” towards the guys and start his work for the day.
The nervousness set it when you called and told him you’d bring his lunch to him. The guys knew almost nothing about Frank’s personal life, which is what he preferred. They didn’t know anything about his past, and they certainly didn’t know about you. What he had going on before and after work hours was none of their business, you were none of their business, but that would change any minute.
“You got a hot date or something, man?” Antonio, one of the only guys Frank tolerated, asked as they moved a stack of wooden beams towards what would eventually become a master bedroom.
“What?” Frank lifted his head, narrowing his eyes at Antonio.
“You’ve checked the clock more in the last 25 minutes than I do on Friday afternoons. You expectin’ somethin’?”
Frank let out a nervous chuckle, which did little to subside Antonio’s curiosity. Instead, intense concern crossed Antonio’s face, and Frank sighed, shaking his head. His brain felt like it had been rewired, and he had no idea how to respond to Antonio’s question without causing more questions. He didn’t have a chance to respond, though, because the sound of clicking heels had caused heads to turn faster than Frank knew was possible.
Frank turned, relaxing when he spotted you. You smiled and waved, ignoring the men around you that were clearly enamored by your presence. Frank couldn’t blame them – you were beautiful – but that didn’t keep the bubble of anger from welling up inside his chest. You were his, and if he was going to make one thing clear to them today, it was that.
Frank marched up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body into his chest. He pressed a sultry kiss to your lips, slipping his tongue in your mouth in his way of saying hello. When you pulled away, you were smiling, and Frank couldn’t think of anything more beautiful than that damned smile of yours.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He grinned, slightly ashamed that he’d let his jealousy get the best of him in front of the guys that worked for him. It was definitely unprofessional to make out with your significant other in the middle of an active construction site while the entirety of your team gawked at your display of affection, right?
“That’s lunch.” He called out, not taking his eyes off yours.
The guys filed out, some with smirks on their faces, others with nothing but food on their minds. Antonio was smiling when he walked past the both of you, wiggling his eyebrows at Frank. Frank rolled his eyes, trying to remind himself why he barely tolerated the kid.
“Speaking of lunch,” you smiled, eyes bright and adoring as you looked at Frank, “Where do you want to eat? I’m not sure I can handle the roof.”
You were all too aware of Frank’s frequent lunch spots. Sitting a the top of buildings that were half constructed, legs hanging over the edge, was Frank’s favorite way to spend lunch, much to your chagrin. You were terrified of heights and refused to even think about how dangerous Frank’s lunch activities were.
“You want to stay?” Frank asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Of course! As long as we’re not eating on the roof.” You pointed upwards for emphasis, shaking your head.
“I guess I could change up my lunch spot for the day.” Frank faked an exasperated sigh. “What about my truck?”
“Sounds good to me, babe.” You smiled, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the front of what would eventually be a nice house in a nice neighborhood outside of Brooklyn. A house that Frank wished he could afford to buy for you. Hell, he’d build you a house if he could afford the land to build it on. You didn’t mind the small apartment you and Frank shared, but Frank couldn’t help the incessant desire to spoil you.
It was a brisk 35 degrees outside, and you bundled into Frank’s side as he opened the passenger side door for you. Frank hustled to the other side of the truck, quickly shutting the door behind him and starting the truck. The heat blasting from the vents was a welcome warmth, and Frank couldn’t shake the tiny sliver of guilt that sliced through him when you began blowing in your hands to warm them up. If he’d just remembered the fucking lunch box, you wouldn’t be sitting in the cold right now.
“Damn, the heat works so well in here.” You observed, holding your hands in the path of the hot air.
“One of the perks of being the boss, I guess.” Frank shrugged. The truck was a necessary purchase, especially once Frank’s work picked up, but you still weren’t used to it. You’d spent so many years taking the subway to get places that having access to a vehicle was a foreign concept to you. “I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here just to bring me lunch.”
“Don’t apologize. I like to see what you’re working on. I wish you’d let me come by more often.”
“You’d be bored. It’s just a bunch of sweaty old guys hammering nails.”
“Sounds like a wet dream to me.” You smirked, clearly joking at Frank’s expense. “I didn’t realize I’d cause such a fuss by showing up.”
Frank shrugged. “If any of them say a single word about you after lunch, I’m gonna break their jaws.”
“Frank, baby, relax.” You ran your hand up his arm. “Even if they do say something, it’s probably just because they had no idea I even existed.”
“I don’t like them knowing about you. You’re mine.”
Frank was aware that what he was saying was insane, but he never cared much about his sanity when it came to protecting the woman he loved. He’d be damned if another person was taken from him, and if that made him crazy, then so be it. Frank Castle would take crazy over mourning any day of the week.
You crept closer to Frank, shifting so that you could lean your elbow against the back of the bench seat.
“Them knowing about me doesn’t change that I’m yours, Frankie.”
Frank grunted, annoyance running through his veins. He knew you were right, but the fact that the guys were probably running their mouths about his relationship with you right now was getting on his nerves. He didn’t want you anywhere near their fucked up thoughts.
“You’re so tense, Frankie.” You mumbled, eyeing the way Frank was clenching and unclenching his fist in an irregular pattern. “Let me help you.”
This got his attention. His head swiveled around, eyebrows raised, as he looked to you for confirmation on what you’d just said. You matched his expression, unwilling to move until he consented to your idea.
“Yeah? You wanna help me?” He asked, already leaning back to make room for you to climb onto his lap.
“You could eat your lunch instead.” You mumbled, “If that’s what you want.”
Frank slowly shook his head, watching the way your throat bobbed when you swallowed.
“No.”
“You’re not hungry?” You asked, inching closer to him.
“Oh, I’m hungry.” Frank conceded, “But I’d rather have you for lunch.”
This omission sent a spark through your body, and you lurched forward, swinging your leg over his hip to straddle him. You looked down at him, enjoying the way his face already seemed more relaxed than moments before. You pressed a soft kiss on the crease of his forehead, the one that always made an appearance when he was stressing about something, and watched as it smoothed itself out.
Frank tilted his chin up, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. His hand snaked up your back, curling his fingers in your hair and gently pulling on it, which elicited the most delicious gasp he’d ever heard slip from between your lips. He decided right then and there that if that sound was the last thing he ever heard, he’d die the happiest death a man could ask for.
He slammed his lips onto yours, unable to constrain himself any longer. His hands found themselves wrapped around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. You grinded yourself against him, moaning against Frank’s lips when you felt how hard he was through his jeans. You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding against him again, letting out a devilish groan when the friction of the movement rubbed against your clit.
“Frank,” you moaned in between kisses, “touch me.”
It wasn’t just a desire to please you; it was a need. Frank was nothing if not generous, and the minute you started begging, he had already unbuttoned and unzipped your jeans, shoving his hand down the front of your pants. Frank let out a loud groan when he realized how entirely soaked through your panties were, clenching the fingers that were fiddling with the waistband of your jeans.
You pushed your hips closer to his hand, dying to feel his fingers. The panting coming from the both of you had fogged up the windows of the truck, obstructing anyone’s view into the truck. The construction site was dead anyways, but at this point, you didn’t think you cared if someone could see in. You wanted Frank so badly that you had lost your ability to care about anything besides Frank’s fingers.
“Want me to touch you, baby?” Frank cooed, “Want me to make your pretty pussy feel good?”
Frank’s breath was hot on your neck, and you nearly came from his words alone.
“I’m supposed to be making you feel good.” You moaned, grinding your hips against Frank’s fingers again. Your actions completely juxtaposed your words, but you couldn’t help yourself. Frank was just so good at making you come.
“Making you feel good makes me feel good, sweetheart.” Frank pressed the pads of his fingers against the fabric of your panties, swirling them around in an achingly slow circle. A shiver worked its way up your spine, and you threw your head back, gasping with pleasure.
“Are you sure?” You panted, unsure if you could stand being clothed for another second.
Frank responded by swiping your underwear aside and running two fingers between the folds of your pussy. When his fingers finally covered your clit, you let out an agonizing moan. Frank resumed circling his fingers around your clit, but his pace was more urgent, like he wanted to see you get off on his fingers just as much as you wanted to come all over his hand.
Your legs began to shake, and you wrapped your arms around Frank’s neck, pulling him into a feverish kiss. His tongue dipped into your mouth, and you began to grind against his fingers in a rhythm that matched the pace of his hand. It was a flurry of passionate kisses and sinful moans as you came apart on Frank’s hand. You breathed through the orgasm as it crashed through you, slumping against Frank’s shoulder in exhaustion.
“My beautiful, beautiful girl,” Frank pulled his hand away from your clit, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you over so that your back lied against the front seat of the truck, “You did so good.”
Frank hovered over you, pressing a soft kiss onto your nose before gently capturing your lips with his. You were still reeling from your orgasm, content to stay in this position forever, when Frank suddenly sat up. You blinked up at him, wondering if maybe his lunch was already over, but the way he began to pull your jeans down your hips told you he was nowhere near done with you.
You kicked your jeans and panties off, pussy clenching around nothing as the air hit your wet core. You spread your legs further, giving Frank a view of how easily he’d ruined you.
“Fuck baby,” Frank groaned, rubbing his thumb through the slickness that had begun running down your inner thighs, “This is the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”
You moaned when he began playing with your clit again, overstimulated but too turned on to stop him.
“Can I taste you?” Frank asked, fully focused on how wet you were. His eyes were glazed over, pupils dilated with desire.
“You’re being too generous.” You sat up, resting on your elbows as he finally locked eyes with you.
“I want to.” He shrugged, already positioning his face near your core. He threw your legs over his shoulders and rested his hands on your stomach, glancing up at you to make sure he had your consent. You spread your legs wider, nodding.
“I need words, baby. Can I taste you?”
Frank’s hot breath coasted over your pussy as he spoke, and the dull throb of desire erupted into a full blown ache.
“Yes, God, please.” You whined.
When his tongue finally met your core, you threw your head back and moaned so loud you were sure the entire neighborhood heard it. Frank was astonishingly graceful at eating pussy, approaching it like it was a dance between his tongue and your clit. He knew exactly when to be gentle, when to roughen it up, and when you were seconds away from coming all over his tongue, he knew exactly how to suck on your clit so that you saw stars for hours afterwards.
Frank normally liked to take his time with this, coaxing multiple small orgasms out of you before finally letting you fall apart around his mouth, but today he was on a time crunch, and he wanted to make you come around his cock before his lunch break was over, too. So instead of going slow and steady, Frank dined on your pussy like a man starved. He circled your clit with the tip of his tongue, licking and sucking all throughout your core as you came closer and closer to your orgasm. He teased your entrance with his tongue, coasting over it every time he flattened his tongue against your folds.
“Oh shit, Frank.” You groaned, arching your back.
He hummed against your pussy, which had your legs shaking so aggressively that he had to clamp his hands over them to keep them from sliding off his shoulders. You were so close, and Frank knew it. He smirked against your core, trailing his tongue around your clit before slightly sucking. Your body felt like it was on fire, and when the crux of your orgasm finally hit you, you couldn’t stop yourself from squeezing your legs into the sides of Frank’s head. You could feel your heart pounding against your ribs, and no matter how deeply you inhaled, you couldn’t quite catch your breath. The world around you faded, and the only thing you could focus on was the feeling of Frank’s hands gently caressing your thighs.
Frank crawled up your body, hovering over you as you came back to yourself. You hadn’t expected to come that hard, especially not in a cramped space like Frank’s car, but he always managed to surprise you.
You swallowed thickly, blinking up at his swollen and slick lips. He was always beautiful, you thought, but right now, you’d never seen anything as beautiful as him covered in your wetness. You leaned upwards, kissing him with every ounce of yourself that you could. The taste of you was still fresh on his tongue, and he groaned when you swiped your tongue against his, grinding against your unclothed pussy with his denim jeans.
The friction was overstimulating, but you wanted him deep inside you so badly that you began meeting his hips halfway, grinding against him so heavily that you were sure he’d have stains on the front of his jeans later. He shifted his weight onto one arm, reaching down and unbuckling his belt with one had. He was moving at a languid pace, and you couldn’t stop yourself from knocking his hand out of the way and unbuttoning his jeans. He chuckled when you undid his zipper in record time, forcing his jeans and underwear halfway down his thighs.
“Someone’s eager to feel my cock, huh?” Frank cooed, brushing his nose against yours, “You want me to fuck you silly, sweetheart?”
You wrapped your hand around his achingly hard cock, pumping up and down as he teased you. The tip was already wet, drops of precum beading at the head.
“Can I ride you?” You asked, pushing his shoulders slightly.
He raised his eyebrows at your boldness. You were usually so eager to let him control the situation, but the look in your eyes when you spoke told a different story. You wanted to make him feel good, and you weren’t planning on letting him leave until that happened.
“Sometimes,” you started, sitting up and pushing Frank down into the seat underneath you, “I want to be the one to fuck you silly.”
You straddled Frank and lined him up with your entrance. You were not going to waste any more of his break not fucking him. Frank let out a stuttering moan as you lowered yourself onto him. When you were finally full of him, stretched out and pliant, you panted at the overwhelming feeling. No matter how many times Frank fucked you, it always took you a few moments to adjust to his size.
“Fuck, sweetheart.” Frank leaned his head against the headrest, grabbing onto your hips in a brutal hold that you knew would bruise later.
You slowly began to rock against him, holding onto the seat behind him for leverage. You moaned when his cock pushed against the spot deep within you that drove you crazy, and couldn’t help the way your breath stuttered out of you. Frank angled his face towards yours, watching in awe as you panted over him, licking your lips and squeezing your eyes closed. He leaned toward you, nipping your jaw with his teeth in a teasing gesture. You ground down on him even harder, and he chuckled.
“You’re doing so good, sweetheart.” Frank hummed, running his nose along the curve of your cheekbone. “Your pretty pussy drives me crazy sometimes.”
“Yeah?” You mumbled, picking up your rhythm as you grinded against him. You yelped when you felt his arm wrap around your waist, bucking up into you so hard that you swore you saw stars.
“Can’t think about anything else some days.” Frank nuzzled his cheek against yours, tightening his hold around you. “You’re fucking perfect, baby.”
You mewled at his praise, even though you had made it clear that you wanted to be the one making him feel good, not the other way around. You couldn’t help but mewl. He always knew what to say to make your chest warm and fuzzy, even when he was fucking up into you so hard that you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk straight for a week.
“C’mon baby girl,” Frank’s tone was low and delicious, and the tingle that worked its way up your spine told you exactly how much you liked the sound of it, “Give me one more, baby.”
“Frank, I-” You let out a guttural moan when you felt his fingers tracing a circle around your clit. Your legs began to shake again, and you knew you were seconds away from coming again. “I’m supposed to be making you feel good.” You finally panted, quickening your pace as you grinded against his cock and fingers.
“I want you to come on my cock, sweetheart.” Frank smirked as you squeezed around him, “That will make me feel good, baby. Can you do that for me, baby girl? Hmm? I know you can. Make me feel good, sweet girl. Come on my cock.”
Frank was talking you through it, and you could not fathom how incredibly hot it was. The intensity at which your orgasm hit you was earth-shattering, and if the neighborhood hadn’t heard you earlier, they certainly heard you this time. You rocked against Frank, whining and panting and doing everything in your power not to fall apart completely before he could reach his high as well.
“My good girl,” Frank wrapped both arms around your waist, pulling your chest against his so that he could kiss you all over your face, “You did so good, sweetheart.”
His praise made you whine, and you couldn’t stop yourself from slamming your lips into his, quickening your pace as you grinded against him. It was overstimulating, sure, but you couldn’t think of anything you wanted more than Frank coming deep inside you.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” Frank mumbled against your lips, tightening his arms around you, “’m gonna come.”
“Come in me,” you panted, squeezing around his cock.
“Yeah, baby? Want me to fill you up?” Frank was breathing so heavy against your ear that goosebumps littered down your back and shoulders. You dug your nails into his shoulders as he pounded up into you, and when he finally came, warm spurts of come coating your walls, you both slumped against each other, worn out and sweaty.
Frank’s heart was pounding in his chest, and you subconsciously tapped your finger against his neck in the same rhythm until it finally calmed down. You leaned back, glancing over Frank’s features. His eyes were closed, chin tilted upwards in a relaxed, casual position. The stress creases in his face were long gone, and he looked a decade younger than he did when you’d shown up earlier.
“Wish we could stay like this.” He mumbled, running his fingers along your thighs.
“Me too, Frankie.” You nodded, cupping his cheeks in your hands, and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “How much time until you have to go back?”
Frank slightly opened one of his eyes, checking the clock on the dash before closing it again. “Just enough time to drop you off at home and come back. The guys will appreciate the extended lunch.”
You shook your head. “I can get an uber or take the subway, Frank. You don’t have to drive me.”
“What kind of man would I be if I didn’t drive my beautiful girlfriend home after she came all the way here to bring me lunch and make me feel good?”
“A normal one.” You snorted, rolling your eyes.
“Well then I guess I ain’t normal.” Frank smiled, leaning in to kiss you before tapping your thigh with his hand. “I hate to say it, but I can’t drive with you straddlin’ me like this.”
You lifted yourself off him, rolling over into the passenger seat. Your limbs still buzzed with pleasure, and it took you longer than you care to admit to find your panties and put them back on. You were pulling your jeans over your hips when Frank began to roll the windows down and wipe the windshield off. You and him had emitted enough fog that it was impossible to see out of any of the windows, let alone drive.
When the windows were finally cleared and Frank had texted Antonio to let him know he’d be a few minutes late getting back from lunch (Antonio’s only response was the winking emoji), Frank drove you back to the apartment you shared with him. He walked you to the door, kissed you goodbye, turned, then turned back to kiss you again.
“I left your lunch on the passenger seat, okay? It should still be warm with how hot the truck was earlier.”
“Thanks, sweetheart.” Frank grinned, pulling you in for a third goodbye kiss.
You finally pushed him off you, chuckling when he tried to chase your lips with his.
“Go to work, Frank. I’ll see you tonight.” You laughed as he rolled his eyes, giving you a final kiss before turning and jogging back to the truck. When you closed the door and locked it, you slumped towards the bedroom, the only thing on your mind being the nap you were about to take.
Frank ate his lunch on the drive back to the construction site, nearly getting choked up when he realized you had gotten him Lombardi’s pizza. You knew how much he loved it, and he vowed to show you how grateful he was when he returned home. When he made it back to the site, he was only half an hour late, but that didn’t stop the guys from joking with him about it.
“Twice in one day, boss? She worth it?”
“Must be. He doesn’t look half as grumpy as he usually does.”
Frank rolled his eyes, counting to ten as a way to manage his anger before outwardly responding.
“If any of you fuckers have anything else to say about her, I’ll bash your heads in with the sledgehammer. Got it?”
Frank glanced at the faces around him. So much for managing his anger. Antonio was the only one that didn’t look utterly terrified as they returned to work.
“So, boss.” Antonio started, smirking as he leaned against one of the structural beams.
“Don’t you start.” Frank pointed at him for emphasis, warning the kid away from any topics he may regret bringing up. He really wasn’t a bad kid, and he was one of the hardest workers Frank had encountered in the business, but he did not want to discuss his love life with his 22 year old employee.
“I was just going to ask how much plaster you think we’ll need for the bathroom.” Antonio pointed behind him with his thumb, gesturing towards the space that would soon be an ensuite.
“Sure you were.” Frank couldn’t wait to end the day and crawl into your loving arms, but he had a shit ton of work to do before then, and he would always be the last one on site for the evening.
Later that evening, after he’d finally trudged through the door, showered, and ravished you, you were caressing his chest as he pressed a kiss to your hair.
“So,” you murmured, “D’ya break any jaws after I left?”
“You’ll be happy to know that I didn’t break any jaws after you left.”
You quirked an eyebrow at him.
“What?” He asked.
“You mean to tell me that you didn’t lose your shit on anyone after I left today?”
“No,” he shook his head, “that’s not what I said. I definitely lost my shit, but I didn’t break anyone’s jaw.”
“Oh, that’s good.” You mumbled sarcastically, rolling your eyes and chuckling.
You nuzzled into his chest, relaxing as he enveloped you with warmth.
“I love you, sweet girl. I’m not ashamed of that. Hell, I’ll shout it from the rooftop if you want me to. I just don’t like people knowing my business. I want to keep you safe.”
“I know, Frankie. I’m not upset about it. I love you too.”
“You promise?”
“That I love you?” You smirked against his chest.
“No, smart ass. That you’re not upset.”
“I promise.” You grinned as he pressed a kiss into your hair.
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sunflowersandsapphires · 3 months ago
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Can I get a Lily for Matt and Frank, how would they react to finding reader crying?
Matt
He’d probably (absolutely) sprint home if he heard you crying
Chuck his cane and everything
Darting up to the apartment, arms outstretched, asking you what was wrong as you burrowed into him
Cradling the back of your head, he’d carry you to the couch and set you in his lap, shushing you softly until you were a bit calmer
He’d be pretty insistent that you tell him what happened, wanting to talk things through with you before coming to a conclusion
Frank 
Frank on the other hand becomes sort of “act first think later” when you’re hurt or upset
Panic sets in whenever he finds you crying. He hides it well but every alarm in his body is screaming for him to FUCKING FIX IT. he hates seeing you cry. 
If he could sell his soul to keep you happy, he would. 
Like Matt, he’d use physical contact to ground you, help calm you down, as well as remind himself that you’re still alive—even if you aren’t happy. 
He’d pretty much demand to know what happened. And as soon as you were tucked into bed that night, he’d search far and wide for whoever wronged you, ready to ensure they didn’t do that ever again
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bomber-grl · 17 days ago
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Taking care of you when you’re sick 🤧
Pairing(s): Characters x Gn!sick!Reader (except for Reyna’s)
Character(s): Percy, Annabeth, Grover,Nico, Leo, Frank, Hazel, Jason, Piper, Reyna (platonic)
Me rn:
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Percy Jackson
Honestly great at it and it’s honestly not expected but also sort of expected
Hard to explain
But it’s likely that he just brings you back to the apartment he lives in with sally, Paul, and ofc Estelle because even though he sort of doesn’t want to admit it, he needs help
So (imagining you’re super sick) even if you’re a stubborn one, it’s too embarrassing to act up in front of Sally
Someone who is so caring that she makes soup just for you, checks in on you, gives you extra blankets in case, honestly anything really
This transformed more into a Sally taking care of you than Percy but I’m getting there
One day Sally has to go out for an errand and takes Estelle with her, Paul went off to work or something
Leaving you two alone and you basically a burden/j
Also… free to complain all you want
Now if you’re stubborn and make it difficult for him he will fr mock you
Literally why are you being this way when Estelle behaves way better
And she’s a baby
Eventually though, cmon now
Just be willing and maybe he’ll kiss you
As if he isn’t doing so while you doze off on your meds
I’d give him a solid 6/10, not because he’s not my fav character or anything
Of course not
Annabeth Chase
Ideal in theory not in practice
She knows everything there is to know- hell, if she didn’t after years of being a demigod and suffering from injuries then strike me down
Well- no actually I take that back
Annabeth doesn’t actually know a lot aside from when she gets sick
Which happens rarely and goes away as quick as it comes
So now she’s here with you all bundled up-
Also, if you try to be stubborn and act like a big baby, she’s having none of it
You will rest and you will eat to consume your meds
End of story
I don’t make the rules 😭
She will, however, be pleased if you’re happy to comply and get you back to good asap
Although she does bumble a bit at the start- she eventually learns quickly
Which is to be expected
When she first started to struggle with what do to she’s too prideful to ask for help so she settles on asking you how to do well by you
Then she realizes how stupid (or unwise) it was to act that way and decides to just ask any of the Apollo kids she knows won’t tease her
Which is more than half
Only because she knew you’d get worse
I’d give her a solid 7/10
It’s not any longer because she gets to business and gets you healed pretty quick so 🤷
Grover Underwood
I’d say he’s pretty decent at taking care of you too
I mean he probably knows a lot about herbs and stuff that could help you alongside modern medicine that you’re likely taking
Plus when you can’t sleep for whatever reason (*cough*cough* congestion*cough*) he’ll obviously put that humidifier on but also play you a song
Either to help with sleep or just make you feel better
Really depends
Also we all know he’s a saytr
So he’s likely taking care of you despite needing to be elsewhere
And if that duty calls quickly? He feels SO bad 😭 I’m not even exaggerating
He’ll apologize ten times over and try to make up for it
Instead of getting your sleep and rest it just results in you spending that time reassuring Grover
Which, in your opinion, is a time well spent
But not to Grover
Anyways if you’re reluctant to let him take care of you then he’s constantly hassling you to stay resting
Literally got to the point where campers would just see you running by, and see Grover not too behind
Or it’d be you sitting somewhere and Grover trying to convince you why going back would be a good idea
Now, if you’re more than happy to rest and take your medicine?
Absolute angel in Grover’s eyes
Literally makes his life 10000x easier
Him being him, he just ends up helping you heal and recover faster than you normally would’ve otherwise
So honestly? You can try to be stubborn all you want but it’s only going to make you suffer 😭
Not much for him but that’s because besides his nervous energy, he’s probably the best here in terms of actually helping you become unsick
Nico Di Angelo
He’ll try his best to help you out 😭
Which he does a pretty decent job at, all he does is rely on books and what he’s heard from others
So it’s time for Nico to rawdog helping you out because frankly, he’s always been the opposite of a normal person
So, why would he ever get sick?
(Bluds body temperature is probably colder than the Antarctic)
He does the basics like making you drink medicine for your symptoms (e.g. cough, sore throat) and making you soup to the best of his capabilities
If you’re the type of person to be whiny and like to be cared after then he’d sort of tease you for it in his strange little way
Now, if you’re super stubborn and insist on him not helping you-
He takes it personally
Like I’m not even joking
He’ll just side eye you
You’re acting like you weren’t just dying of suffocation before he put the humidifier on a few seconds ago
And he lets that known
So, he asks why you’re being so stubborn and let him spoon feed you‼️
(Only because you ended up being bundled in a blanket burrito and Nico didn’t want to go through putting you in one again afterwards)
Too much hassle
Also applies if you’re being stubborn and he has to forcibly feed you)
He’s honestly getting annoyed at this point so you give him a proposition
You’ll let him take care of you if he gives you cuddles
Now, normally Nico would be so done but he couldn’t resist
So now here you both are underneath the covers
But then Nico ruins it
“Yknow I was gonna cuddle you regardless” (of it you complied or not)
6/10 just for that last comment
(Doing an actual story, will link HERE)
Leo Valdez
Someone please help him
Nah just kidding
Leo is definitely way better with machines than with humans
That’s a fact
But he knew his mom long enough to know the basics of everything
I don’t make the rules, that woman definitely taught him everything there is to know
So here you are on the bed of your room as you hear Leo’s racket going on in the kitchen
Emmie and Jo went out and took a few residents with them, including one of your favorite residents:
Georgina
The ones that stayed behind were either asleep or bundled away under the covers of their beds
(Ignoring those doing chores)
Especially since it was now winter, despite the waystations warmth, a chill seemed to have made it way inside.
Eventually Leo makes his way back up and set down a tray
It had a soup you learned to become familiar with
It was Caldo de Res
So obviously you gobbled that shit up like all the other Mexican foods Leo had made before
Eventually Leo makes you take your medicine because even though he’s all about playing around and stuff, he still likes to care for you
Now, because it’s likely snowing, Leo had to resist and refuse to let you out
You’re already sick, it could get so much worse
But you didn’t listen
Hence you running around like a maniac outside the station yelling as Leo chases you
Afterwards he scolds you but when you point out that fact that he was laughing when he was chasing after you- he shuts up real quick
Leo does realize how boring it probably is for you though so after going back inside he tries to be a source of entertainment for you
He tries to find board games and he luckily does
Which ends with you two moving to the living room (?) or common area
By the time emmie and the other residents return, the tower you built while playing Jenga was sky high and skinny asf
Then Leo crashed it and you both obviously yelled at it
Then Leo got told off for distracting you from resting (although it was done kindly)
Later after dinner, Leo snuck into your room at night and once again began to try to rid you of your boredom
you two began giggling and gossiping in the middle of the night
Then went to bed when someone knocked as kindly asked for you two to quiet down
Leo was embarrassed 💀
Frank Zhang
Surprisingly good at taking care of you
Only saying it’s surprising because I’ve never considered it before
He obviously takes care of your basic needs like meds and just covers you needing anything else like rest or water
If you’re stubborn to actually try to get better- then he’s definitely worried but also confused
Why are you acting this way and also, please just let him help you
Which is honestly sad because even if he’d like to stay by your side for more than a few hours- he really isn’t able to due to praetor duties
I mean it’s a surprise you got a pass on your chores/ duties depending on what your role is
Will definitely feel terrible for having to leave to go do his job but eventually finds someone trusted to look after you
Likely someone indebted to him
(He’d feel a bit sorry for whoever it is if you’re particularly resistful)
Let’s say you actually get sick and there’s no outside forces that can interfere
Frank is a pretty top notch- although a bit anxious - doctor
Likely learned a lot about the healing aspect of Apollo back when being his kid was what Frank wanted most
So he knows a lot from that and is really attentive
After giving you some medicine you had seemingly been knocked out cold so it was natural for Frank to turn down the lights
Before he left the room he decided to give you a kiss on the cheek
You were actually still awake and despite your boyfriends more than accommodating care-
You will be teasing him tomorrow using this instance
Overall I’d give Frank a 9/10
‘He is the worlds most perfect man’
Hazel Levesque
Have you seen her lead the other Roman’s as praetor and even before then ? Yea she’s getting you bundled up and fed
No ifs or buts
This is how she is overall but if you try being stubborn she genuinely doesn’t see why you would be
Like why wouldn’t you want to get better??
Also please don’t sneak out to the weaponry or something because she literally CANT give you special treatment 😭
Despite her seemingly tough demeanor, she really is a fool for you
Not actually- but miss girl is smitten with you
So she sort of takes it easy, occasionally finding her voice and scolding you as lightly as she can
She tries her best to treat you but eventually gets advice and help from others in camp who know more than she does
She ofc knows the basics: consume vitamin c, rest, drink medicine, etc
But she can’t be too sure
I also honestly think she’s way better than Nico, because I didn’t include it but he definitely got some wayward damned spirit to help him out
But not her
Not that that’s bad, but she’s definitely more capable
I do think she bumbled a bit
She had ordered some other campers who specialized in healing to help her out
Before then, she had been taking care of you herself
So when they get there and see her sort of make shift stuff- she’s a bit embarrassed
Yknow, if the blush on her cheeks are anything to go by
Because we’ve already established that she’s better than Nico, I’ll give her a 8/10
Because she’s really good at taking care of you, really caring overall
But 🤷
Jason Grace
Best way to say how he is at taking care of you is mediocre
He isn’t constantly attentive but just the right amount that you feel like it’s enough
Esprit he’s busy with the school he’s attending- then he’ll have to sneak out just to see you and take care of you
If school isn’t in session then he’s more than happy to go over and take care of things for you
Like doing chores, cooking food and actually taking care of you
Doesn’t mind all that much if you try to resist being treated because it’s likely that he’s encountered people who are WAY worse
Ik this is him supposed to be taking care of you but I think it’d be so funny that you’re just constantly in and out of consciousness that you only remember small snippets
In which Jason has to fill in for you and all you remember is Jason in the distance
Pretty out of place but the idea of it is so funny to me 😭
Imagine being so kind and your s/o not remembering any of it
You’d still believe him though, why should you?
Also I said it’s mid but like mid leaning good so I’ll give him a 6/10
Not that he was terrible or anything but just because I feel like it suits him
Idk 😭
Piper Mcclean
THE BEST IM NOT EXAGGERATING
The medicine- eating- cooking part is alright
It isn’t much different from the others averages and not much to take note of in all honesty
But what is really the cherry on top is when after having a mind splitting headache- you’ve finally managed to fall asleep
Being a demigod and all- you immediately hear when Piper enters the room
Each creak the floor board gives continued until Piper has reached the end of the bed
Not that it’s disturbing you in anyway
So there you are snuggled in bed and you feel a weight added next to you where the bed is pushing down
You feel hands massaging your scalp and Piper -knowing how you’ve suffered with head pain- starts to sing for you
It isn’t unknown or unheard of to sing for someone to heal (demigod or non demigod wise)
So when you immediately start to feel better you can feel your would ascending into the heavens
Not actually- because that’d be the opposite affect of the singing but you get what I’m going for
Anyway aside from that she’s really attentive and sweet but I just had that idea come to me strongly idk why
Overall id rate her a 7/10
That’s because her singing is divine but her caring aspect is mediocre
Reyna Ramírez-Arellano x F!Reader (for the first half)
Literally legendary at taking care of you
Although she is a bit of a dictator when it comes to you being slippery and running off- it’s still pretty great
She was praetor for how long now? Yea a while so she was bound to have learned some things and after joing the hunters it’s only more reason to
Which if you’re a hunter and sick (only confusing but let’s go with it) you need to get your health back up to be in optimal fighting condition so theres literally no room for being stubborn
You need to get well soon and that’s an order basically
So Reyna will bundle you up, (though seeing as you’re more than happy to be cooperative) its only done to make you warm
(Gn! Reader but still platonic)
Now if this is while Reyna is praetor then she’s still enforced this strict persona
And seeing as she’s here taking care of you-
That’s only more reason to
Unfortunately she won’t really have time (seeing that being praetor is really unsustainable long term with the loss of sleep and sleep schedule changes)
But when she does her presence is soothing and likely the only reason you were able to actually get well pretty fast
I don’t have much besides she knows what she’s doing (likely has gotten stupid colds form stress) and is really serious about it
Would give her a 9.5/10 but I’ll change it to a 10/10 because of how fast you recover
-
A/n: req was originally only asking for Nico but I said why not do the other 9
144 notes · View notes
madschiavelique · 11 months ago
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𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐛 — 𝟏
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⟢﹒ pairing : matt murdock x vigilante!reader x frank castle
⟢﹒ summary : you’d met them, became their teammate, and the one night you got severely wounded, they took you to their place to patch you up.
⟢﹒ content warnings : i am not a doctor nor do i have any knowledge on how to take care of wounds like that properly so very inaccurate patching up session, mentions of blood, wounds, mentions of needle (to saw reader’s wound), afab!reader, stubborn reader, but stubborn frank, no use of y/n, not proofread
⟢﹒ word count : 7,2k
⟢﹒ note : this is the first part of a 2shot where the second part will be a smut with hunter/prey dynamic ! have a good read <;33
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⟢ next part : here
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The clouds were brown tonight, covering the inky blackness of the sky like a mass of cotton gathering up the streetlights of Hell's Kitchen. Everything seemed to be reflecting off a lake, the puddles of rain from earlier in the day having settled on every rooftop in the city in a myriad of mirrors.
It was quiet, abnormally quiet even. Hell's Kitchen wasn't exactly your typical idyllic holiday destination; on the contrary, it was the place to flee if you had the chance. Crime had its patch on every street corner, and not a single day or night went by without something happening.
But now, nothing. No problems. No calls for help. Just the calm of an evening. 
Sitting on the edge of a roof, your legs dangling boredly in the air, you listened to your little radio set beside your thigh, hoping that one of the police stations would report a problem. But everything was peaceful.
It had already been a few months since you had taken on the attire of the night, taken on the role of vigilante in Hell's Kitchen, and every evening you found yourself chasing crime out of town like a broom sweeping dust out of the way.
It wasn't necessarily an easy rhythm. After an already long day at work, you usually tried to get some sleep before starting your patrol. You'd realised that although there was no particular time for crime, most of them started after midnight.
But it was already one o'clock in the morning and there was nothing to report. You wondered whether perhaps you were doing your job as a vigilante too well. If you did, this kind of evening was set to happen, because if you did eradicate every crime all at once, there wouldn't be any left for later. The bitter reassurance that, unfortunately, crime, born since the dawn of time, would only die with men, gripped your heart.
The pace of it all was sometimes exhausting, but the advantage of all this was that you weren't really working alone any more. At first, the idea of joining forces with anyone to bring justice to the world of night seemed complicated, for several reasons. 
Firstly, coordination: having team-mates implied having a certain connection so that even without words being spoken, everything ran smoothly. 
And secondly, attachment. An environment like this where every night can be your last if you don't keep a minimum of vigilance can prove destructive. It would be too painful to lose an ally, and even more so if it was your turn to leave and they found themselves grieving.
But colleagues - no, partners? Friends? Whatever, the allies you found on certain nights were probably the most resilient human beings you'd ever met, to the point where the very thought of them dying was impossible. After all, when you're working with two people who have both withstood a bullet to the head and who are sure of themselves, you can't help but feel safe - or very small and miserable in their presence.
You had met them on patrol when the sounds of banging and groans of pain could be heard in an alleyway. Immediately, you had split the sphere of your personally modified Bolas and had helped in the fight after observing the side you had to take. Recognising criminals had become like a sixth sense, but above all you had recognised Daredevil's outfit in the semi-darkness and the silhouette that appeared to be that of Frank Castle.
You were familiar with the work of both of them, had seen enough of their appearances in the newspapers and heard their actions on the radio enough to know that the two men fighting the dozen or so others below were none other than these two.
You had helped them, immobilising a man here, strangling a man of the thread of your bolas there, while the two acolytes were both taking part in the fight. It was only at the end of the latter that the barrage of questions began.
"Who are you?" was of course the first question Matt asked.
"Who do you work for?" was the first question Frank raised, naturally.
It didn't take too long for you to explain that crime was swarming around the city like cockroaches in a dirty carpet and that you wanted to clean up just like them.
Frank was suspicious, Matt was calm, and you were sweating buckets, dreading their every reaction. They weren't exactly idols to you, but you had great respect for them.
It was when Matt agreed that you were sincere and that there was nothing to fear about you that Frank relaxed a bit, without letting go of his grouchy and suspicious attitude. You'd assumed at first that Frank wouldn't appreciate such a radical change of routine that included bringing a new member into the evening vigilante group, but Matt had assured him that having one more person would allow them to be more effective.
And soon, you'd be meeting up from time to time in the evening if you were lucky enough to bump into each other. 
First, you didn't reveal your identity immediately. There was a kind of silent agreement between the three of you on the subject. Of course, Frank's identity was no longer a mystery, but Matt's remained particularly anonymous for a long time.
Once enough trust had been established for Frank not to grumble at you at every given occasion, you were officially introduced.
You learned that Matthew Murdock was a blind lawyer with very heightened senses, and that Frank Castle lived with him, taking on a series of remote jobs under a different identity since his name was not really known in a very positive way. 
You didn't see each other outside of work, often too busy with your own lives to find time to see each other, even if you didn't discuss your free time... at first anyway.
You had exchanged phone numbers, in case an emergency arose and you suddenly needed help. Your exchanges were very cordial, sending addresses or locations when help was needed or to investigate something suspicious.
The first much less professional encounter was on a more turbulent night than the others, when you were cut badly on the leg, flank and arm, with an additional cut to your lip from a punch. 
According to Matt, your costume was similar to the one he wore when he first started as Daredevil. Dark clothes, something to hide your face and combat boots, needless to say that with just these to cover you up, you were extremely vulnerable.
When the fighting stopped, you didn't even have time to wince in pain that Matt was already beside you with a glove off and removing his helmet as Frank observed the situation.
"How bad is it?" Frank had asked, tilting his head to the side as the fabric covering your body darkened with blood.
"As bad as it looks to you and feels to me," Matt sighed as his fingertips brushed the skin of your side.
"It's all right," you assured them, moving slightly away from Matt and his touch, "really, it's fine."
"Are you sure? You look like you can barely walk properly." Matt had asked, obviously knowing that no, everything wasn't all right.
Probably because he'd used that speech over and over again himself, that and the simple fact that your body looked like a cute little pinocchio with a nose extended to its ears.
"Yeah yeah, no big deal - argh!" you started before Frank put his hand on the gaping wound in your arm. “Hey!”
"No big deal, eh? If it was no big deal ya wouldn't be reacting like this."
"It's nothing, really." 
You had no idea if you sounded convincing… well, from the look on both their faces, you weren’t. Frank crossed his arms over his chest, looking you up and down as he bit the inside of his cheek.
You felt tiny under his gaze like that, barely lifting your eyes to look into his. There was a dark insistence in his stare, and you could tell he was frustrated, only whether it was about you or the situation in itself you weren't sure.
"What d’you say Red ?" he said after seconds that felt like minutes.
You turned to Matt, his gaze fixed as usual on a point in the void. But that didn't stop his eyes from being expressive, and the rest of his face reinforced them. You watched in the half-light the way his jaw muscles twitched in the lamplight and your heart fell in your stomach.
"Our flat is closer to here than hers," was what he ended up saying.
Your heart went right back up your chest as you blinked fast, frowning at the sentence he had so casually said.
"I'm sorry, what?" you asked, "how do you know I'm-" but you didn't finish your own sentence before starting the next, "you followed me all the way to my place?"
Matt put both hands on his hips with a sigh, biting his lower lip before finally answering.
"We had a bit of a scare the other night when you were cut on the shoulder. We just wanted to make sure... that you got home okay."
Your lips parted in surprise, shifting then from Matt to Frank, who was looking at his feet as if the ground was far more interesting than anything he had to say at the moment. You weren't sure how to feel about that.
In a way, you found it strange that they'd followed you home without telling you anything about it, but Matt with his keen senses would probably have known where you were sooner or later. Besides, it was well-intentioned, and the sudden thought that they cared about you - no, about your state - was surprisingly heart-warming.
"In any case," Matt continued, clearing his throat, "ours is a lot closer than yours, and in your current state, you could do with some treatment when you get there."
"I'm not planning to stay the night, am I?" you laughed nervously.
"Why not?" said Frank, raising his eyebrows and his shoulders in one gesture.
From now on, victory would go to the one with the most convincing argument.
"Well, I've got work tomorrow," you began, already thinking about the pain you'd have to endure in the morning when you woke up. 
You could still feel your warm blood clinging to your clothes, and the sensation was becoming increasingly unpleasant.
"Say you're unwell, isn't far off the mark," Frank replied, pointing with a lazy wave of his hand at your body.
"But I don't have any clothes to spend the night in." You retorted, although the argument was easily contradicted by Matt's remark.
"We'll lend you some, it's no big deal," he assured you.
"I don't have a toothbrush," you retorted, as if that couldn't possibly be of any importance in this setting.
"We're not Cro-Magnons, we have backup ones," Matt laughed softly.
It was becoming a little more complicated to come up with relevant arguments. The blood loss was making you dizzy, weak, and preventing you from standing properly without grimacing every second while focusing all your attention on each cut and the intense burning sensation it gave you.
It wasn't so much that you didn't want to go, because on the contrary you found yourself enjoying their company more and more. It was simply the fact that...
"I'm afraid of imposing myself on you and bothering you." You said, looking away.
You were colleagues up to now, people who shared a common interest in justice, and you didn't mind their company. Only, you'd added to the mix completely unexpectedly. They'd already been working together before, even living together. You didn't know a great deal about their private lives and here you were, the millstone, getting hurt in the middle of a patrol and not being able to make a move without everything hurting.
You turned towards them again. The look on Frank's face was like the typical reaction of a human being who has just witnessed the greatest absurdity of all, while Matt's mouth was half-open in surprise. It almost seemed to you that saying that simple sentence had been a mistake.
"That's it, you're coming with us," Matt confirmed.
"Definitely," Frank affirmed as he approached you and placed one of his hands behind your back.
"Hey wait-" you had no say in the matter, though, as Frank's second hand came up behind your knees and lifted you off the ground.
Your hands barely grasped the back of his neck, wincing as you writhed in pain. You wouldn't have minded being carried. The fatigue of the evening weighed on each of your limbs as if they were full of lead. 
You knew how to walk, one step in front of the other like most, and the suddenness of being lifted so easily into the air felt funny. You couldn't help fidgeting, caressing the hope of finding a position more comfortable than one that made you feel every inch of your skin open to the night air.
"Stop movin’ like a chicken ‘bouta have its throat cut," Frank grumbled as the two of them started walking.
"Put it on the ground and the chicken will calm down," you breathed through clenched teeth of discomfort.
"It's not a very long walk, I promise." Matt reassured you.
You huffed, clutching the collar of Frank's jacket to prevent yourself from squeezing the back of his neck too hard and getting another remark. You were torn between the uneasiness of the stir he made with every step, which you felt in every wound, and the new comfort you found in the embrace of his arms.
You felt so... safe that way. And not just with Frank, because you felt the same sense of tranquillity with Matt. They were both involved in your life in such an unusual way and they still managed to make you feel comfortable.
You'd never been so close to him, snuggled up against him and held in his strong arms. As close as you were to his body, you could smell him. A mix of cool and warm. 
He carried the smoky but crisp scent of the night, the fresh but dark air, like the smell of a just-cut apple leaving its cool scent on the blade of the knife that has just sliced it. And all of this was strangely relieving. 
Your eyes drifted to his neck, which was inevitable considering how close you were to it. Your gaze focused on his Adam's apple, ready to be covered by his perpetual stubble, letting your eyes slide up to his marked, strong jawline. You weren't in the habit of observing someone so closely, especially when that someone was handsome. 
The journey across his face continued, passing from his full lips, to his nose bumped by the many blows he must have received in the face, to conclude this pleasant silent voyage with his eyes. Beneath a pair of stern eyebrows were two onyxes, shyly illuminated by the few street lamps on the deserted streets you were travelling through. You had seen them turn black like those of a shark that had smelled blood. 
If you didn't know that look would never be meant for you, you'd be afraid of them.
You'd spent enough time with them in combat situations to know that their rage alone could bring a man down with a look. You hoped you'd never have to pay the price of it.
But this close, you didn't feel in danger, although the very idea that such dark eyes of vengeance and bitterness and death might pass over yours made you shudder.
“You’re staring, little one,” Frank remarked, his gaze never wavering from the path in front of him.
Too embarrassed by your own behaviour, you nestled your head on his shoulder, resting your forehead on it as your neck and cheeks heated up. You felt a little foolish as you felt your heart beating frantically between your ribs, and the very idea that Matt could undoubtedly hear it made you want to be swallowed up by a hole in the ground and disappear.
When were you going to get to that bloody flat where you would - hopefully - never again have to be so close to one of them without your thoughts getting carried away ?
Your wishes were granted, as you soon found yourselves standing in front of a door that Matt habitually opened, letting Frank go first as he pressed you closer to him to get through the doorway. With a single breath, his scent invaded you more and more until, for a few moments, your thoughts were focused on nothing but him.
The sudden closeness of him made you feel your cheek brush against the nape of his neck, cool in the night air, but enough for your own skin to heat up slightly.
Internally, you were slapping yourself in the face. Now was not the time to let yourself be bewitched by your colleagues, although the fact that you would be spending the night with them would intensify those thoughts.
Your reflections kept you prisoner enough that you didn't realise until you'd climbed the stairs that you were about to enter Matt's flat. No... their flat.
This reality dropped into your stomach like a heavy stone. They're together, so don't try or think anything that might disappoint you. Tonight... It's just business. It's just help they're giving you, that's all it is.
Perhaps it was a cruel lack of affection that made you repeat all this to yourself, but whatever the case, your inner monologue gradually died down as your attention was drawn to the inside of the place.
It was big, really big for a flat, and for a moment the idea of Matt and Frank being rich occurred to you. It wasn't until Frank moved further into the living room that your eyes fell almost painfully on the neon lighting that illuminated the whole room.
And the more you looked, the more the charm of the place intensified. Of course, the neon had to be a problem. And yes, the walls had faded wallpaper and cracked paint. And maybe the windows could have done with a bit of a wipe down.
But the cosy atmosphere the flat had was delightful. The warmth that greeted you as you entered was gentle and reassuring. You noticed that there was little smell in the flat, nothing too strong at least so far. 
"On the sofa, she's already lost enough blood for the evening," Matt pointed out as he left for his kitchen.
Ah, right, Matt's senses, you almost forgot. The reason for the absence of perfume or overpowering scents in their flat was surely that it could prove abrasive on his olfactory sensitivity and generally on his senses.
Frank didn't hesitate for a moment, gently lowering you onto the leather sofa, which you felt sink under your back. The sudden change of position made you wince and whimper, the pain of your wounds hitherto camouflaged by your comfort in Frank's arms resurfacing to inflame your skin.
Frank watched you for a moment, frowning as he observed with serious eyes the dark stains that soaked through the various fabrics of your outfit. Without a word, he walked away, and a few seconds later Matt appeared in your field of vision, a bottle of amber liquid in his hand.
"We're going to need you to take off your top and trousers, do you think you can do that?"
The heat rose to your cheek, making you realise that with those wounds on your body, it was inevitable that you would end up naked if they wanted to do anything to help fix you.
You pressed your teeth into your lower lip, keeping it prisoner for a moment and grunting as the gesture made you reopen your little wound. 
"I'll try," you croaked, trying to unclench the hand that had been glued to your side until now. 
The bleeding seemed to have eased, the blood slightly caking to your hand as you pulled it free with an exhaled whimper. The sudden contact of air on your skin felt like an icy slap, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to calm yourself.
Your head tumbling back on the comfortable leather, you tried to get your hands to the sides of your T-shirt, pulling at the fabric. The material rubbed against your gaping wound, and you gritted your teeth as you breathed heavily.
Matt swallowed, clenching his jaw before kneeling in front of you.
"I can help you, if you don't mind," he offered, his hands coming to rest on your ankles as he began to remove your shoes.
Your reflex would usually have been to say no, your determination to achieve everything on your own without help from others blocking such opportunities. But the more you thought about it, the more the taste of resignation grew in your mouth.
At the rate you were going, getting undressed would take a considerable amount of time, time that Matt and Frank could probably have spent doing something more interesting than helping someone like you. So you gave in.
The blood from your split lip spilled back into your mouth, your tongue running over the cut and burning you. Wrinkling your nose in pain and breathing through your teeth, you nodded vigorously as you readjusted yourself on the sofa.
Matt sat up straight on his knees and faced you, his hands first feeling the leather of the sofa to find your thigh. He gently skimmed along the fabric, his hand brushing the wound on your thigh and making you grunt slightly.
"Sorry," he murmured softly. "The bleeding seems to have stopped," his confirmation letting his hand travel up to your waist. 
His second joined in, avoiding the path of his twin again, and finding the sides of your top.
"Can you put your arms up for me?" he asked softly.
You swallowed, chewing the inside of your cheek as you took a deep breath. Then you did the seemingly impossible by lifting your arms. Your shoulders felt like they were made of lead, and your whole body seemed to be made of nothing but aches and pains.
When the fabric and movement rubbed against the wound on your arm, which you had barely raised, your hand instinctively came to press against it, letting a small, contorted whimper escape from your lips.
Matt let out a sigh, but he didn't seem exasperated or annoyed, more concerned or sharing your pain. Just then Frank came back into the living room, a first aid kit in hand as he came up beside you.
"We're going to have to cut your shirt off," Matt warned.
You sighed, feeling deeply incapable. When did taking off a shirt become so complicated? Every cut on your body was starting to burn severely, and you felt like throwing yourself into a lake of ice water to soothe the pain.
Frank pulled the scissors out of the kit, sitting down next to you and letting the sofa sink beneath him.
"We'll get you a new one," he promised as the cold kiss of the scissor blades touched your skin for a moment near the wound on your arm, bringing a short-lived respite.
Frank tugged at the fabric to pull it away from your skin, then after a few scissor strokes tore the material of your t-shirt as if it were paper with a sharp tear.
The cold skin of his fingers, still covered in the cool of the outside air, came to rest on your skin, and it was as if night met day, as the moon touched the sun with its fingertips, illuminating each of its craters and cuts.
Meanwhile, Matt unbuckled your belt gently, unbuttoning your trouser button at the same time and pulling on the fly until his fingers brushed the birth of...
"Sorry about the whisky but we didn't have anything else," he said apologetically as he took hold of the edges of your trousers.
"Aren't you guys sponsored by first aid kits at this point?" you asked through clenched teeth.
Waiting for Frank to move the scissors away from your skin, you raised your pelvis so that Matt could slide your trousers down more easily. 
"There hasn't been any disinfectant in any of them since last night," he explained with a small smile.
The scene was strangely intimate, Frank's hot breath spreading across the back of your neck as he cut off your shirt, and Matt's hands sliding your trousers down your thighs.
You couldn't help but let out a grunt as the fabric of your pant leg brushed against the wound on your thigh, though Matt was doing his best not to cause you any discomfort, whispering small apologies as he did so.
You then realised the context of all this, and the heat rose to your cheeks when Frank threw the last shred of your old T-shirt somewhere in the background: you were in your underwear in front of them.
For a moment, their fingers on your body felt much less professional. The passage of their digits over your skin left behind a trail of sparkling powder underneath.
Placing a towel under your thigh, Matt indicated to Frank the bottle of alcohol which he uncorked.
"This might sting a bit," Matt advised just before Frank started pouring the cool liquid over the wound on your arm.
You stifled a muffled gasp, your thighs trembling slightly from the heat of your wounds. Matt's face scrunched up, his hands resting on your thighs in the hope of easing your pain or distracting you from the excruciating sensation you were going through. As for Frank, he didn't seem to give a damn, his face filled with his constant annoyed neutrality.
You had wondered several times whether Frank hated you, or whether it was difficult for him to stand you. Whatever the case, he didn't seem to have you in his heart. Maybe it was mistrust, but whatever the reason, he seemed irascible towards you.
He continued to pour the contents of the bottle quite generously onto your side, your eyelids closing so tightly that you felt you were seeing stars. You gritted your teeth so hard that for a moment they cut off your hearing, then released the tension.
"It's almost done," Matt murmured in the hope of encouraging you.
Frank ended up cleaning your trembling thigh. You brought your hand, closed into a fist, up to your mouth, biting the skin of one of your fingers to channel the pain.
Your head jerked back, breathing heavily as tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. The worst had undoubtedly just passed.
You heard them rummaging around in the kit, and as you straightened your head, you saw them pulling out needle and thread.
"No pain killers," you managed to say as your mouth felt almost pasty.
Frank chuckled, preparing the needle properly.
"Gotta get this done first, no painkillers for your princess ass now."
You let out a half-sigh, half-laugh.
"Silly me to assume you'd care." you mumbled, already feeling the discomfort from the alcohol on your gaping skin soften.
"It' all be over soon," Matt asserted, his thumb running over the skin of your thigh.
"And I who was looking forward to living in agony for the rest of my life,' you breathed.
Frank brought one of the armchairs closer to the sofa, needle in hand.
"Gon try and be gentle, softy." he added, the little nickname making you scoff.
"No, Frank, being gentle isn't your area of excellence. You shine mainly in murder and mutilation."
He raised his eyes to yours, still red and wet from your previous pain and reflecting the famous 'gentleness' he had shown in his actions. He frowned, but this gesture was unexpectedly accompanied by a smile mixing surprise and amusement, stretching his face in a way you'd never seen from him before.
He brought the needle up to your thigh, grasping the skin with his large hand as firmly as gently. He pierced it, making you wince at the sensation. 
"Just gonna pretend I didn't hear that," he finally said, his concentration seemingly unwavering.
But the simple idea of saying this when this same man was stitching you up at the moment only enchanted you for a short moment. He had a needle in his hand that he could very well stick anywhere but in the wound that needed to be closed. And although it was an immensely small needle, you were well aware that anything can become a deadly weapon if you have the will to use it. 
So you said nothing, letting that little irritation fade away as you let yourself be stitched up. The pain was bearable in the end, nothing too horrible. It was better than going home and cauterising the whole thing with your straightening iron.
Now that the pain was more bearable, your attention eventually drifted to something other than that feeling, and more to the rest. The feel of their fingers on your body brought a whole new sensory experience, causing a warm cloud to settle in your belly.
Matt straightened up, your thigh already missing the presence of his hand on it. He sat down beside you, his fingers brushing your arm without injury.
"Your lip's cut," he remarked.
"It's not the worst thing on the menu," you laughed nervously, immediately regretting your gesture as your smile stretched your lip and reopened it again.
He fumbled for the kit, taking a cotton ball and grabbing the bottle to soak it in.
"Here," he said, his hand coming to take your chin tenderly and turning it towards him.
He pressed the wet cotton to your wound, and you hissed as your nose wrinkled in pain.
"It might sting a bit when you drink," he murmured.
The proximity gripped your heart, Matt's face close enough to yours that you felt his breath hit your skin gently and evenly. You tried to calm your racing heart in your chest, swallowing as you let him finish disinfecting your lip.
You took the opportunity to watch him more closely, to see the way his stubble ran gracefully across his jaw, the way his brown eyes watching the empty space were full of softness, the way his lips, which you were used to seeing outside the mask, were full and pink.
He seemed incredibly gentle, and if you didn't spend some nights a week in his company fighting crime, you'd never have bet he was fighting like the devil himself: unleashed, full of rage, the taste of revenge and the desire for a better balance blinding him beyond measure.
"You'll take our bed," Matt said, Frank just finishing stitching up your thigh.
You immediately frowned, your lips parting.
"Since I'm on the couch I might just stay on it," you laughed nervously as Frank moved to the wound on your waist.
His hand grabbed your hip and pulled you to the edge of the sofa, looking up at you: 
"Sit straight and still," he says in a tone calm but firm enough to convince you that he wouldn't repeat that command twice.
You straighten up slightly, letting him come and stitch up the wound in your side.
"Of the three of us, you're clearly the one who needs comfort and rest the most, not us," Matt continued, placing the now useless cotton wool on the table.
"I can assure you that I've rarely been on a sofa as comfortable as this one," you added.
You'd invite yourself into their home unannounced, they'd take care of you, and on top of that they'd make you sleep in their bed while they slept elsewhere?
"Do we really have to drag you there?" asked Frank, tugging at the thread.
"And let me squirm and ruin all your previous efforts on my wounds?" you huffed as you looked into his eyes, a muscle near your eye twitching as Frank continued his work. "I'd ruin your sheets, that's really not necessary."
"Listen-" Matt started, but you stopped him.
"No," you assured him, turning to him, "and anyway I can already feel sleep stalking me."
Frank breathed in as he opened his lips to speak and contradict you again, but you stopped him.
"Really," you assured him, "I'll take the sofa."
Frank bit his cheek in irritation, obviously not so happy to know that someone in this town shared being so stubborn. He turned to Matt, who also didn't seem to be enjoying the situation any more than that.
"Alright, but there's no way I'm going to hear you complain as soon as you wake up, is that clear?" finished Frank as he tied the thread over the cut in your abdomen.
"Scout's honour," you sighed.
As Frank started your last cut, Matt got up and went to the kitchen to get a glass. He filled it with water, while you and Frank seemed to be engaged in a stare-down between two obstinate, stubborn people.
"Thanks Matty," you thanked sincerely, taking the two delicious items in your hand.
He seemed surprised by the nickname, a nervous chuckle forming a smile on his lips.
"I'll grab you some clothes," he replied as he left for their shared room and began the process of changing his costume.
You placed the tablet on your tongue, then brought the glass to your lips. As promised, it stung. A cloud of red diluted on the contact with your lips, and as you observed it you wondered how you would justify it to your boss.
You sighed, reminding yourself that you should email them first thing in the morning to let them know you were absent. All you had to do the next day was explain that you'd been attacked in the street for stealing your bag, but you'd managed to get away, and that in a state of shock you didn't feel like coming to work the next day. This would probably do.
Frank finished stitching you up fairly quickly, and when he cut the last thread he still looked at you with that annoyed look he never seemed to shake off.
"Thank you, Frankie" you thanked, using the nickname in a more playful tone than you had with Matt.
He let out a single sharp breath from his lungs before getting up and leaving in his turn for the bedroom, from which Matt emerged in much more... normal clothes.
It was the first time you'd seen him in civilian attire, in a simple hoodie and jogging bottoms. Your eyes went wide, your mouth half-open for a moment, and you had to blink several times to pull yourself together.
"Here," he said, placing the pile of clothes next to you on the sofa. "Do you think you can stand this time?" 
Now that the adrenaline had worn off, and everything else didn't burn as much as if hell itself had invited itself under your skin, you tried to stand up. You wanted to avoid any sudden movements, but eventually, with a bit of effort, you managed to straighten up and start pushing on your legs to get up.
Your knees trembled slightly from the stress and everything else that had gone with it during the night, and just as you thought you'd be sprawled out on the floor in the next few seconds, tasting the parquet floor, Matt grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him.
"Hey, take it easy little fawn, we don't need you damaging your nose on top of everything else," he laughed as he steadied you, letting your legs wobble a little more before you felt comfortable enough to stand.
Your whole body hurt like hell. And no wonder: in addition to your various cuts from the evening, your body was dotted with clouds of bruises that would make all the blueberries jealous of their colour.
"Let me help you," he finally smiled gently as he picked up the T-shirt from the pile.
He helped you into the top, taking care not to let the fabric come into contact with your freshly stitched skin.
"I'll need to borrow one of your shirts tomorrow when I leave," you said with a small smile, "mine's had a bit of a problem."
Matt laughed softly as he poked his head into your top. " May it rest in pieces."
You laughed softly at his little joke, slipping the rest on and feeling his hands roam over your covered skin, the size of the t-shirt far too big for you and reaching the top of your thighs.
Matt lowered himself to his knees in front of you, and you looked down at him as he rolled up the sweatpants so he could slip them around your ankle, guiding your hand over his shoulder so you could find some support.
The vision was heady, taking hold of your heart like an intoxicating scent you want to chase down so you can bury your whole face in it and never leave. You wanted to run your fingers through his hair, to let them get lost in its meanders, to let your nails graze his skull before tugging lightly on it... 
But you pulled yourself together, the thought once again creating a warm cloud in your lower belly as he straightened up and pulled the fabric up your legs, his fingers brushing your skin as if you were a statue forbidden to be touched.
"You're gonna have to see that with Frank though," he said as he tied the two laces around your waist, "it's his shirt."
That's how the same smell you'd first smelled when you were in his arms came back to mind, but you remained stoic, preventing yourself from grabbing the collar of the shirt and bringing it up to your nose.
"Challenge of the year," you sighed, smiling though, "thank you. For all of this."
"That's normal, it would be a shame if our partner found herself unable to exercise," he reassured you.
The word sent a shiver up your spine and into your cheeks.
"Red?" called Frank from the bedroom.
"Coming," he answered over his shoulder before turning away from you.
You sat back down on the sofa, tiredness beginning to weigh heavily on your eyelids. You lay down, the multiple events of the evening knocking you out more easily than any sleeping pill. 
You had no trouble falling asleep, even with the neon lights on, even without a blanket, and even when the two of them came back into the room.
When you woke up, your back felt like it was sinking into a cloud. The surface you were lying on was soft, and when you turned on your side, your hand came to rest on a material that was not at all like the leather of the sofa: silk.
You propped yourself up gently on one elbow, observing the place you were in, and that's when you realised: they'd moved you into their bed while you were asleep.
"Bastards," you muttered, and bit your cheek to stop the little smile forming on your lips from breaking out.
A funny feeling sprang up in your heart, making it light and rosy. But that feeling quickly faded as you sat up straighter and your whole body ached. You felt like you'd just come out of a washing machine, all tossed and turned.
You stood up, trying to stretch but stopping immediately when the pain from your stitched-up cuts threatened to reopen. You didn't want to mess up their clothes, you'd probably never forgive yourself if that happened.
You came out of the bedroom and found Frank and Matt talking in the kitchen. Matt turned to you, sending you a smile.
"Good morning," he offered.
You were limping lightly, and bent slightly, walking slowly towards them through fatigue and pain.
"At last the groundhog graces us with her presence," Frank grumbled, turning to you.
"Am I rather not a sleeping beauty ?" you returned with a smile, "I wonder if sleeping beaty had a breakfast date when she woke up. I mean, look at me this is such a tempting offer," you said as your posture could easily have been a cross between an old lady and a pregnant woman, leaning on your hip, alternating between the curve of your back and the arch of it, making your whole body crack into a grimace of relief.
But surprisingly, they both smiled at your joke, and the awkward silence you might have expected or the abrupt change of subject to move on never came. But that didn't stop you from apologising on the spot.
"I'm sorry, I don't want my words to sound inappropriate, but I know that you two... well, you're..." together was the word you were looking for, but your fingers pinched the bridge of your nose. 
Try again, you thought. You'll end up rowing champion if you keep paddling like that. But Matt immediately reassured you.
"There's nothing to worry about, and besides, on my side you have to be forgiving when you don't have the 'pause' button."
Right, you thought, even though the heat was rising to your cheeks and neck enough for your cool hand to come and rest on it, massaging it nervously.
"I find you singularly witty, Red," Frank said, arms folded across his chest.
Of course, there was nothing new under the sun about Frank. His sharp tone brought you back to solid ground in no time.
"How are the wounds?" he asked as he turned to you, his eyes lingering for a moment on the fact that you were wearing his shirt.
"Very well," you assured him as you lifted the sides of your shirt to show the one on your side and the one on your arm, turning back to him, "I think the blue really brings out my eyes, don't you?"
He smirked, and you couldn't quite work out whether it was genuine annoyance or amusement. It all seemed a bit too perfect, and that's when it hit you.
"Fuck!" you exclaimed, looking for where they'd put your trousers where your phone was.
"What is it?" asked Matt.
"My boss," you said, searching the hallway and finding your trousers there, "I didn't tell him-"
"We called him this morning," pointed out Frank.
You stopped in your tracks, turning back to them.
"You what ?" you questioned.
"We called him," Matt informed, "we told him that we were close to you and that after you were mugged last night in the street you decided to stay home for the day out of shock."
"You-"
"It's all sorted, you don't need to worry," Frank grunted, taking his drink in hand, surely in search for you to shut up and let him enjoy his morning cup of coffee.
You stood there like a houseplant in the middle of the living room, and Matt invited you to take a seat for breakfast. Bemused, you took a seat and the three of you ate and chatted for a while.
Matt mentioned taking you to see a guy he knew so that he could cover you up with something other than such a simplistic and obviously flimsy outfit that could put you in danger again.
And after breakfast, you left at the same time as Matt, who was leaving for work. You said your final goodbyes and went your separate ways.
Little did you know the proximity of last night would change many things.
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