#sidewalk contractors manhattan | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

edourado · 7 years ago

Text

New

My first 2018 fic is for @allmyfuckingobsessions ( @missherowndreams ), who loved the promotional picture of Frank as a construction worker, way back before TPS aired.

Lovely, you sent me this prompt in April 2017, and I know I took this ridiculous ammount of time to deliver, it, and I’m sorry. I just now found a shred of inspiration for it. I hope you like it. Happy new year. You’re amazing.

So here it is, everyone. A lil kastle au, have some fluff and a bit of smut on the first day of the year.

Happy 2018, guys.

Karen Page, Bulletin reporter, has a new thing going on with Frank Castle, licensed contractor. It’s different, it’s exciting, it’s new.

She’s used to catcalls. Not to be conceited, but Karen has been putting up with them in a near daily basis since she was eleven or twelve years old. At 28, it became part of the background noise.

Except when it’s that voice.

“Hey, beautiful”, she hears while walking down the street from a nice hotel in Brooklyn, and she would have kept walking, but she knew that voice. His voice. It had whispered tales in her ear just two nights ago, a ‘good morning’ against her face yesterday, praises of her beauty in her shower, a ‘see you later’ when he kissed her in his car, dropping her off at work.

Turning around, Karen looked at the construction site, a thing she usually avoided.

“Hi”, she said, smiling at the man in a plaid shirt, jeans, boots, heavy duty gloves and a yellow safety helmet. Frank.

She had met Frank Castle almost two months ago, in a hotel, this one in Manhattan. She was there to interview a Senator about his gun control policy and the benefit he was holding to raise money for the families of the dead and injured in the most recent mass shooting. Frank had greeted her when she stepped off the elevator.

He was an interesting man, Frank. Army veteran, divorced, two kids, now a licensed contractor who sometimes consulted for a private military company and volunteered in helping rehabilitate war veterans struggling with PTSD.

He was there doing security for the Senator, filling in for his friend Billy Russo, owner of Anvil.

Frank had introduced himself, shaking her hand firmly (“Miss Page. Frank Castle, Anvil. Pleasure.”) and they had a little flirt while walking down the corridor to the suite. After her interview was done, he had accompanied her downstairs and they talked about the irony of an anti-gun politician with a security detail from a private military firm being interviewed by a reporter with a concealed carry permit. He complimented her on her choice of weapon while giving her her gun back, tugged on his tie and insisted on walking her outside.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Castle”, she had said when he opened the cab door for her, and he had nodded his head once, a small, tiny smirk, staring at her while saying “Likewise, Miss Page.”

They met again through David Lieberman, the NSA analyst that found himself with a metaphorical bomb in his hands. She had been invited to his house to talk about the video he had sent her, and there Frank was, fixing the headlight of a car, two girls sitting there with him.

As it turned out, David and Frank were once-associate-now-friends, their kids went to the same school. Castle was there dropping his daughter off for a sleepover, and ended up fixing Mrs. Lieberman broken light.

“Miss Page”, he had greeted, as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

He ended up sitting in on her conversation with David, offering an insider’s view on army tactics and how illegal operations usually run. Later, he had taken her for coffee, to maybe help her with the best way to run the story without making any unfounded accusations and end up with a target on her back.

Coffee had turned into another coffee, and then another, then dinner and a stroll, another dinner, another stroll, and then he was coming up for yet another cup of coffee, they were making out on her couch, having sex on the floor because her bedroom was too far away and this was delicious, crazy good.

They had had morning sex the next day, and lunch break sex and after work sex, and a few more rounds during the night, two days ago, and he had dropped her off at work, kissing her soundly before driving away, because he had the kids that day, and then, today, she was busy with the interview and he had to work and there was a chance the kids would sleep over at his place and spend the weekend, so they probably would not see each other until next week.

But now here he stood, looking at her from under that bright helmet, and she stood there in the sidewalk looking back.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, turning and taking a step closer to him, smiling at that look in his face.

“Working”, he replied, motioning to the house behind him. “Full renovation. You?”

“I had that interview with Ward Meachum. Remember I told you about it?”

His smile was slow and she felt her cheeks heating up, because she had told him about it while they were naked in her bed, making plans of when they would be able to see each other again.

“For the, uh… Danny Rand profile”, he confirmed, smirking, taking his helment off, looking so damn good in his work clothes.

“The very same.”

“I keep bumping into you”, he said, reaching his hand to her, and she took it, letting him pull her to him.

“You know what they say about reporters”, she joked while he planted a chaste kiss on the corner of her mouth. “It’s kinda hard to shake us.”

“Not what I’m trying to do at all”, he said before kissing her softly, not like he had kissed her when they were alone, but she felt her body reacting to it nonetheless.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance when the walkie on his belt made itself present, someone calling him.

“Boss?” said the voice.

“Hold on”, he whispered to her, taking the thing in his hand. “Yeah?”

She watched as he talked to some guy, about some leak they had found in the basement.

“Do you have to go back to the office?” he asked after he was done with the conversation.

She breathed against him, hand on his arm, the fabric of his shirt under her palm.

“Um…” she started, because she did have to, she had to transcribe the interview and start on the article layout. “Depends”, is what she said instead. “How long are you gonna be here?”

With a conspiratory expression, he took his phone from his pocket and looked at the screen.

“It’s almost four. I need to check out this leaking, and then patch up a wall. Think you can wait an hour, maybe a bit more?”

“Is there wi-fi? And an outlet for my computer?”

He nodded once.

“We got plenty of outlets. No wi-fi, though.”

Chewing on the inside of her lip, she looked at him and blinked. She did need to work. But she supposed she could call Ellison later and tell him the interview went longer than she thought. She didn’t need wifi to write, and she could upload the draft when she got home.

While she thought, he leaned in again, touching his forehead to hers.

“Stay, please.”

Such a low blow.

“Ok”, she found herself saying. “Alright but I do need to work a bit.”

“No problem”, he said after planting a kiss on her, and she smiled.

Frank pulled her by the hand, up the porch stairs and through the front door.

This house was beautiful. Large and spacious, no furniture, all the lights on, it had plastic on the floors and the painting wasn’t finished on the walls.

“It’s brand new”, Frank told her while they climbed the stairs to the second story. “Owner just bought it, but wants a lot of changes done. So here we are.”

He took her to the master bedroom, with it’s huge balcony doors wide open, letting a pleasant afternoon breeze in, and guided her to a small desk full of papers and blueprints and a half empty cup of coffee.

“I was supposed to meet with the interior designer today, but she just called to cancel, so it’s all yours.”

He shuffled some papers around while she walked around the table to set her purse on the back of the chair.

“Do you want coffee? I can send someone to get it for you.”

“Oh no”, she declined. “I don’t want to be on the way.”

“You’re not on the way at all. Caramel latte?”

She smiled at the fact that he remembered, and nodded.

He sent someone to get coffee for everyone and included her order among them. While she sat there on working - construction noises all around her -, two guys or three came in and pretended to be looking for Frank, but she knew they were just trying to take a look at the boss’s new girlfriend.

He was never gone too long. She had her earbuds on, connected to her recorder, transcribing the conversation with Ward Meachum, but she watched as he walked in and out, focused on his work, stopping here and there to collect a kiss from her.

She finished with the writing quick enough, and decided to take a look around when yet another guy, young, walked in and offered her another coffee. She got up and walked with him downstairs.

“I was in Afghanistan”, he told her. “Frank got me this job, and my dog.”

She looked at him.

“He got you a dog?”

“Oh yeah. A rescue. She’s trained, y’know, for vets. It’s been kinda tough, I’ve been having some issues, but she’s a lot of help. I’m real grateful for her. And, y’know, this.”

She smiled and talked to him some more while he installed the lights in the kitchen.

The hour Frank promised had come and gone, but she did some rounds, talking to people, finding out the the majority of the men that worked for Frank were war veterans.

“There you are”, he said a while later, walking to her and Donny, the kid working on the hole in the ground where the pool would go. “Been looking for you.”

“I’m just making conversation”, she said, smiling down at Donny, who smiled up at her.

“She’s nice, boss. You should bring her over everyday.”

“Yeah, don’t count on it, kid”, Frank replied, placing a hand on the small of her back, guiding her away from the pool site. “I’m sorry it’s taking longer than I said”, he said just for her. “This leak was gonna be a problem, I needed to fix it.”

“It’s ok”, she said, because she was glad she had stayed. Talking to his men was almost like profiling him, and he was a subject she didn’t mind having.

“I really am nearly done, now. Just have to close it, then we can go.”

“Alright. But, um… Don’t you have the kids today?”

“Nah”, he said. “Frankie has a test tomorrow, and Lis has a birthday party, one of her friends. I’ll get them next week.”

He asked her for another half hour and she said it was ok, going back upstairs to call Ellison and pretend she had just gotten out of the interview.

“Yes, I’ll transcribe it and upload it as soon as I get home. You can have a look.”

“Right”, said her boss on the other side of the line. “When are you meeting Rand?”

“Monday”, she said, walking to the big balcony that overlooked the bay. “I’ll meet him in his office and then we’ll go to one of the factories.”

“Tell me it’s the one in Long Island.”

Her editor talked and she listened, but her eyes followed Frank around. He was in the backyard, below the balcony she now stood on, holding a sledgehammer, and she got distracted, for a second.

He did look very good, dressed like that. Come to think of it, he looked good in every single thing he had worn around her so far. From the suit he had when she met him and he was representing Anvil to this construction site attire, she liked him in every outfit. Including the ‘no clothes’ look, his naked form lying in her bed. That was a good one, too.

“I have my kids’ recital tomorrow”, Ellison was saying. “But send it to my email, I’ll take a look.”

“You got it, boss.”

Hanging up, she looked at him for a while longer, watching as he removed that yellow helmet and ran a hand over his hair, that sledgehammer leaning on his leg.

He was telling the men that they could go for the day when she walked back inside the master bedroom to collect her own stuff.

She was saving her work and turning her computer off when he walked in, telling her that they could go.

“So”, he started, turning to her once they were inside his car. “My place?”

She smiled and nodded, that giddiness that had been simmering since they met earlier flaring up, making her want to squirm in her seat.

“I’ve never been there.”

With a chuckle, he turned the car on. “Yeah, well, don’t get your hopes up. Yours is much nicer.”

She kissed him while he drove, and he made her yelp by swerving sharply after she refused to lean off him and sit back. She laughed and he put his hand on her thigh, intertwining their fingers together when she picked his hand up.

“Ok. I’m warning you now. The place is a mess. Lisa didn’t organize her room, and her mother says I can’t do it for her, she has to learn responsibility and shit. So, be warned.”

“Ok”, she laughed while he opened the door of the building.

“There are toys everywhere. And ballet shoes, and books. Also the dog’s stuff, but that’s on me.”

He had refused to really, really kiss her, saying he smelled bad, that he was all dirty and whatnot, but he did put an arm around her while they waited for the elevator, didn’t say anything when she lifted a hand and placed it on his chest, opening up to his kiss, stepping further into him, realizing she had missed him against her more than she thought.

His dog, Max, came to greet them the moment they stepped through the door, while he slid his tongue on that spot she liked and she sighed to it.

The dog whined and tried to wedge himself between them, and Frank groaned, letting go just long enough to close and lock the door.

“This is Max”, he informed her.

He moved to take her purse and hang it on the hook by the door along with his own backpack, and while Karen handed it to him, the pitbull stared up at her curiously.

“Nice to meet you, Max.”

“Stay”, he told Max, pulling her by the hand towards, she assumed, his bedroom.

She was thinking that his definition of ‘a mess’ was different than hers - it wasn’t as bad as he had led her to believe - when, suddenly, they were in his bedroom and he was shutting the door to keep the dog out, pulling her to him one more time, kissing her with a little more urgency, and she was surrendering immediately, having a hell of a good time undressing him while he ran his hands over and under her clothes.

He was shirtless when he bent his knees and gripped the hem of her skirt in his hands, lifting it up quickly, pulling it over her head, startling her a bit.

While she blinked and slipped her shoes off, he lifted her shirt, a little less urgently, tossing it behind him and reaching behind her head, gathering her hair in his hand while pulling her to him, kissing her while she unbuckled his belt and unfastened his jeans.

The bed was right there. All they had to do was take a few steps. He picked her up and put her legs around him, making her grip his shoulder and his neck, lifting his face to keep kissing her, moving further inside his bedroom.

She only realized he was not walking them to the bed when he opened the door to the small en suite bathroom, so distracted she was, kissing and feeling him up with hands and arms and legs.

“Where are we going?”

“I need a shower”, he breathed against her mouth, nibbling on her lower lip, and she decided she didn’t really care. He could tell her he was gonna bake a cake, she would be ok with it, as long as he kept kissing her like that.

With fast, talented fingers, he unhooked her bra and pulled it away from her, along with her underwear, and she went back to work on his pants while he opened a drawer and looked for something, probably a condom.

“Hmm, fuck”, he said against her face when he sank into her, and she sighed in ecstasy, feeling her skin raise in shivers, adjusting her legs to better accommodate him between them.

The sounds she let out echoed in the bathroom tiles, Karen lost count of how many times she shivered, skin erupting every time he changed paces, or ran his tongue on her neck, or grunted and tightened his grip on her.

She was slick with sweat when he tugged her closer to him, locking her right leg around his waist, other hand running from her hair, caressing her face once before dipping down, closing around a breast for a few seconds and then slipping further down, down, and she whined, rolling her hips against him, shock waves of pleasure shooting though her, crying inside his kiss, breathing deep, shit, he was so good so good so good. He was sweating, and her hand slipped on his back while she tried to hold on to him, causing her nails to scratch a path from his shoulder down to his waist when she tried to firm her grip.

He liked that, apparently, because he grunted and buried his face in her neck, moving faster, and she opened her mouth in a scream that didn’t come, surprised, there’s no way he would get her there again so soon after the first-

He did. Once and then twice, and she tried to hold on to him, her hands kept slipping without her meaning them to, he moved moved moved so good, sharp and hard, and she kissed him, moved with him, breathed against him, Frank-

“Frank”, she cried against his face, an arm around his shoulder, her hand gripping the short strands of his hair, and he kissed her one more time, his rhythm faltering, hands tight on her, all hard muscles and slippery skin, she felt him shudder, slid her tongue around his, trying to breathe in and out, almost relieved when he slowed down, down, and then stopped.

She felt like she had just spent hours pushing herself at the gym, her muscles aching, her breathing labored, sweating enough to soak her hair.

The gym never left her feeling so good, though.

“Hmm”, she half sighed, half moaned as she kissed him. “Wow.”

She watched as he smiled, leaning in when she touched his face, kissing her palm, running his hand up and down her back.

“Can’t believe how much I missed you”, he said, voice lazy and satisfied.

“Good thing I walked past your site, huh?”

He hummed his agreement and leaned in for another kiss. “How about that shower?”

.:.

The initial plan had been going out to eat something. But he kept kissing her and tackling her back down on his bed every time she tried to get up.

She agreed with ordering in, and ran her pocket hair brush over her hair as it air dried while he got up to call his usual restaurant and fill Max’s food and water bowls.

The dog trailed to her while he was on the phone.

“Hi, buddy”, she greeted, carefully reaching out a hand to try and pet him.

He seemed docile enough, but she knew pitbulls had a certain reputation for being violent.

Well, if Max is any indication, they were just big sweet puppies. The dog’s eyes almost closed all the way when she rubbed his ear, his tail wagging sweetly and happily.

When Frank walked back in, Max was sprawled over her legs and hid his face on the crook of her knee when he saw him.

“Look at this little shit”, Frank said, affectionately but with a hint of reprimand, sitting by her side. “What do you think you’re doing, man?”

Max kept his face hidden from him, and didn’t move.

“He’s not allowed on the bed”, he informed her. “Come on, buddy, get down.”

The dog whined and Karen laughed, giddy, watching him prying his dog off her, chest bare, wearing a pair of sweatpants, fresh from their shower together, a few red lines her nails dug in his skin making her want to kiss him again.

She was glad to see he seemed to be experiencing the same things. After Max was on the ground, he moved back towards her, kneeling on his mattress, and pulled on her legs, climbing on top of her, kissing her slowly, arms crowding her under him, lips soft on her own, her face, her neck, nibbling on her ear, kissing her cheek again, making his way back to her mouth.

“Food’s on the way.”

“Alright.” Looking up at him, hands pushing his hair away from his face, she remembered how she had felt so attracted to him that first time, when he was wearing a suit and tie. His contractor clothes don’t come too far behind, though. “I liked seeing you at work today.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Your men all like you a lot.”

“You talked to them, huh?”

“A few.”

His eyes traveled around her face, humor and care on his expression.

“Are they all vets?”

He drew a breath, dropping a long kiss to her temple.

“Most. Some are army kids, their parents were killed in combat.”

“And you give them jobs”, she said, to keep him talking.

“When I can. I do my best to keep them out of trouble, occupied. Some of them need someone to keep them going to group. I do what I can to help.”

She smiled, running her feet on his legs.

“I love that you do that.”

One more time, he dropped to kiss her, long, slow, tongue sliding lazy against hers.

“Do you work tomorrow?”

It was a Saturday, but she had heard him and some of the men talking about a ‘tomorrow’.

“For a few hours, yeah.”

“Can I go with you?” She asked, because she wanted to watch him work again, in his plaid shirt and that ridiculous yellow hat that didn’t look ridiculous on him.

Frank raised his brows.

“You want to?”

Karen nodded.

“Sure, I’ll take you. It’ll be boring, though.”

“Will it?” She asked, mocking. “Watching a bunch of men sweating through their shirts, knocking stuff down and building stuff up? Sounds like a nice day to me.”

She let out a startled yell when he pinched her thigh, laughing, squirming under him.

“Ok, ok”, she conceded. “I’ll just watch you.”

.:.

Saturday morning found Karen sitting on a long chair in the shade, in someone else’s unfinished backyard, wearing her own yellow safety helmet, watching as Frank sawed a piece of wood, sweating, focused, a frown in his face.

She got up from her chair when the piece he was working on split in half.

“I’m gonna run to the coffee shop and get some refreshers for everybody”, she told him, mouth on his ear, purring when he put one arm around her waist, almost mad at herself for being such a cliché and finding this whole thing so sexy. So she better occupy herself and get drinks for everybody. It was a hot day, hotter than the previous one. “You want anything?”

“Whatever you’re having”, he said, returning her kiss and winking at her.

The men thanked her and made her laugh by calling her a goddess or an angel, two of them telling her they were in love with her, one of them proposing, going as far as dropping to one knee.

“Get up”, Frank told him, smacking him on the back of his head, making the others laugh.

After lunch, she had to go and meet Danny Rand, for the damn profile, and shadow him for the afternoon.

Frank was waiting for her outside her office when she left, Max with him, asking if she would let them walk her home.

Karen fell asleep with him by her side and his dog under her couch. They had a breakfast date the next morning, and he would probably wake up Monday morning by her side, too. But then, by lunch, he had the kids again, and he would call after dropping them at their mother again.

It was more complicated than her usual relationships. She had never dated a dad before, or a divorced man.

Then again. She had never felt this strongly, this fast, for anyone.

It was new, for both of them. It was good, for both of them.

#kastle #kastleff #kastle ff #kastle au #kastlelibrary #Frank and Karen #Karen and Frank #oneshot #Hell's Kitchen Chronicles

118 notes · View notes