#the punisher MCU | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bubuslutty · 2 years ago

Text

Skin & Bones

Frank Castle's masterlist

pairing: frank castle x skinny!fem reader (platonic or romantic? who knows)

word count: 1.5k

tags: fluff, 3rd person pov, she/her pronouns, reader is referred to as darling/Frank's darling, insecurities, body image, poc friendly, sfw

warnings: none

summary: Frank's darling is petite, skinny, scrawny, whatever you want to call her. Frank can easily break her in half if he wanted. She might be strong and incredibly intelligent, but nobody is absolutely safe from feeling insecure from time to time.

a/n: uhhh I wrote this cuz I was feeling insecure abt the way I looked, I don't feel that way a lot but sometimes I do and I hate it. and I just wanted to write Frank to provide some comfort to reader. that's all 💙

Everyone has insecurities. Some more than others. Some know how to cope with them, and others don't. And God help you if you were a woman born into this world, because every made up insecurity under the sun will be shoved down your throat, or they will try at least, to make you feel like shit and buy whatever product they're claiming will change your life and solve all of your problems.

Frank noticed a lot of things, and lately he's been noticing how his darling stares a bit too long at the women around them.

He hears her sigh once in a while when she's alone, and he watches how her smiles start to dim and how much quieter she becomes, lost in her thoughts.

He notices how her eyes sparkle and shine in admiration and awe when they're hanging out with Karen. And he sure does hear her ramble and talk about how beautiful and cool Karen is when they're in the car, on their way home.

But then she would lock herself in her room and he wouldn't hear a single sound from her, except when he knocks on her door to call her to come and eat.

His darling, so intelligent and pretty, who, in his eyes, belongs in a painting, hung in a Museum, rather than with him, stained with blood and dirt, the ghosts of every person he's killed attached to him like a disease.

And yet, here she is, helping him take out any scum they believed needed to be gone. She investigates, looks for clues, interrogates before he goes to interrogate whoever they're holding captive, hacks whatever needs to be hacked, orders new weapons and ammunition and is the face of their little weird twisted family. She's the one who speaks at the bank when they need to open another account under fake identities. She's the one who sweet talks them out of sticky situations without having him break someone's nose or windpipe. She's the one who negotiates for their benefit.

But she's also the one who's used as bait to catch killers with fetishes, predators and disgusting scums. She's the one who distracts and deceives while Frank is handing out tickets to the afterlife like free sweets behind her smile, staining the back of her legs and slim neck with fresh blood.

And when they're all done for the day, she helps stitch him up, helps clean up their equipment, cooks something to eat when she has a bit of energy, and on days she can't get herself to make anything, she orders them something nice to eat.

More often than not, they'll end up on the sofa, in fresh pajamas and eating while watching a random show, and then Frank would fall asleep and his head would roll to the side, resting on her shoulder. Darling would pet his dark short hair and slowly push his heavy head away, and try to wake him up so he'll sleep on his bed instead.

This is just a glimpse of what their life consists of, but let's all come back to the beginning; insecurities.

Frank's darling is petite, skinny, scrawny, whatever you want to call her. She's shorter than him, her arms are long and he can hold both of her wrists with one hand with ease, he could practically break her if he wanted.

On most days, she was comfortable in her skin, making peace with the fact that no matter what she ate, or how much she ate, her body remained the same. Sometimes she would bang her hip bone with a table and hiss, and sometimes she wouldn't be able to open things or support the weight of certain guns with one hand alone, and that was alright, because Frank was there to do it for her. There were many things Frank could do, but also a lot of things he couldn't do.

Frank would notice how annoyed she becomes when they're out shopping for clothes, and no pair of jeans would fit around her waist, infuriating her. But that was alright, he would grab her hand and walk straight to the next store, to get her a pair of jeans that would fit as intended.

Even bulletproof vests have to be tightened a lot, especially when she has to wear one, but no worries, Frank would be there to adjust the size for her when need be.

"Hey," Frank knocked on her bedroom's door, which was already wide open.

Darling looked up from her position on the bed, she was curled up in the middle against the headboard, wrapped in a blanket and hugging one of her pillows to her chest. And Frank could practically smell the upset oozing out of her.

"Frank?" She said in a quiet voice, smiling a bit.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course."

Darling scooted a bit to the side and allowed Frank to sit next to her, making sure his boots didn't touch her clean bedsheets, staying on the ground.

"What's wrong?" He asked, not looking at her, instead at the random clothes and objects scattered around her room.

"Nothing really, just feeling a bit weird that's all." She shrugged, hugging her pillow closer to her chest.

"Hm, weird." Frank repeated, nodding once and scratching his chin.

"Yeah, just… feeling weird." She repeated, glancing at him.

"D'you wanna talk about it?" He offered, now properly turning his head to look straight at her, his eyes showing nothing but safety, Frank’s safe, he's safe-

Darling thought about it for a long time and nodded, pressing her body closer to his, trying to hide somehow. And he threw an arm over her shoulder, squeezing her tight against him.

"Do you– Do you think I'm pretty?" She whispered and Frank was a bit taken back.

"Of course," Frank said without hesitation.

Darling looked at him without saying anything, and sighed, "Are you saying that because you're a gentleman or do you really mean it? It's alright, I won't be offended if you don't think so, because I still will be more good looking than you, at least."

Frank cracked a smile and chuckled, "I'm being honest, I think you're very pretty, I won't lie to you."

"Okay," Darling whispered, nodding, "But do you think I'm too skinny?..."

Now, Frank frowned at that, "What's wrong with being skinny?"

"I don't know? Maybe because I'm not that strong, I'm not really– I'm not really curvy like most women and I don't know– Maybe I want to be a bit bigger?-" Darling rambled, avoiding eye contact with him and fiddling with her fingers.

"Beautiful, the way you look doesn't matter unless it affects your health, trust me." Frank said, cupping one of her cheeks and turning her face so he could make her look at him.

"I know, but sometimes I wished I had bigger hips, y'know? Maybe more fat under my skin, and maybe I wanted bigger boobs as well? I feel so much smaller and like- like puberty skipped me or something! And it's unfair! I want to look like other women as well-" Darling said, eyes shining with unshed tears as Frank watched her panic and hold her head in her hands as if that was an absolute catastrophe to have skinny hips and small boobs.

"Come on, stop with that bullshit." Frank gently scolded.

"You know it's true, Karen is so beautiful, she's so stunning and I look like a teenage boy." Darling said, now actually crying.

Frank's heart dropped a bit and he immediately collected her in his arms, rubbing her back in an attempt to sooth her.

"Let me tell you something, you're perfect just the way you are. Your body is constantly changing, you won't stay the same forever, you know that, right?" Frank said against her temple as she clutched tight onto his black t-shirt.

"I know, but it still makes me feel like shit sometimes. I know it's stupid-" She cried against his chest, feeling even worse because her periods are due in a couple of days. So she couldn't tell if she did really feel that insecure or if the feelings were amplified by hormones.

"It's not stupid. Everyone has shit they're insecure about, but you need to know that whatever you're insecure about is just a bunch of bullshit. Nobody cares if you're not curvy, if someone likes you, they'll like whatever you look like." Frank said, patting her back.

"But what if I don't find someone that'll like me because they think I'm too skinny?" Darling whispered.

"Now that's stupid." Frank scoffed, "You won't even speak to anyone who'll prioritize the way your body looks over what's in that brain, baby."

Frank's darling's crying was now reduced to small sniffles against his chest and she slowly looked up at him, wet eyelashes, runny nose and all.

"The only thing that I like about being skinny is that you can carry me like a suitcase so I don't have to walk." She said, shyly cracking a smile when Frank laughed, "Attagirl,"

"That's my girl, you're beautiful and smart, don't let anyone try to make you think otherwise, or I'll kidnap them and their kids." Frank said, making her burst out laughing.

"Not the kids!"

"Not the kids." Frank chuckled and placed a kiss to the crown of her head, smiling in her hair and vowing to punch anyone's esophagus if they ever made his girl feel insecure about her looks.

His darling might have bony arms, a tiny waist and a bit of the outline of her ribcage can be seen everytime she stretched. She can have bony hips and hit herself against tables once in a while, no flesh or meat cushioning her hipbone. But he doesn't give a shit what she looks like.

Because he knows how beautiful she looks when she's not looking at herself in a mirror or toying with her fingers and thinking about what ifs.

He loves that she can easily wrap herself around him, like a baby koala, with her long limbs, and sleep against him. He loves that she can practically fit in many tight places that he can't fit in, so that's more places to keep her safe when shit hits the fan.

He loves that many of her opponents underestimate what she can do, resulting more often that not, in their death.

He loves how different they are, yet so similar in certain things. They both want to get rid of shitty people the justice system struggles to hold accountable. They both share a drive to survive that is completely outmatched, he'll claw his way to hell and so will she.

Frank wishes that he could help her understand the way he sees her, but he doesn't think he's that good at expressing what he really means. So as long as she's fine by his side, so is he.

thank you for reading 💙

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wolvietxt · 1 month ago

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𝓢ILENT 𝓣REATMENT.

pairings : frank castle x fem!reader warnings : argument, crying, hurt / comfort, happy ending, established relationship au, shouting, implied size diff (like my fav trope if you can’t already tell) silent treatment summary : after an argument with frank, you both end up giving eachother silent treatment, until the tension gets too unbearable for you in the car. wc : 4.5k a/n : i got a req for this a few days ago but i think i deleted it or something i can’t find it now💔 but it was from an anon so thank you for this one because i loved writing this ALSO!! thank you to everyone who leaves feedback + little comments on my frank fics i notice it happens more when i write for frank and it’s the absolute sweetest

the air in the apartment felt heavy, charged, like a storm was brewing right there in the middle of the living room. frank was pacing now, his big hands flexing at his sides, his jaw tight enough that you swore you could hear his teeth grinding.

you didn’t fight - not like this. not with him raising his voice and you trying so hard not to let yours crack. it wasn’t how things usually went. frank was tough, sure, rough around the edges in a way that didn’t really go away even when he was at his gentlest. but with you, he was softer. he made an effort to rein it in because he’d told you once, in a rare moment of vulnerability, that he didn’t want you to ever be scared of him. and you never had been.

but tonight, he was angry. angrier than you’d ever seen him at you, and the worst part was you weren’t sure how it had even escalated to this.

“so what?” frank barked, spinning on his heel to face you, his broad frame taking up what felt like the entire room. “you think i’m just gonna sit back and let this slide?” his voice was sharp, cutting, and it made you flinch, even though you knew deep down that he’d never in a million years actually hurt you. “you think that’s who i am?”

you held your ground, even though your heart was pounding against your ribs. “it’s not about letting it slide, frank,” you said softly, your tone calm, measured - a stark contrast to the heat in his voice. “it’s about not making it worse. escalating doesn’t fix anything.”

“escalating?” he repeated, his voice rising, almost incredulous. “this isn’t escalating, this is handling it. you don’t just let people treat you like crap n’ walk away. you should know that’s not how it works.”

“sometimes it is,” you said quietly, refusing to match his volume. “sometimes walking away is the only thing you can do. not everything has to be a fight.”

“bullshit.” the word came out harsh, and the bite in it made your chest tighten. frank rarely swore at you, and when he did, it was never like this, never with this kind of edge.

your hands trembled slightly, so you folded your arms across your chest, not in defiance but as a way to steady yourself. “frank, please. i don’t want to argue about this.”

“yeah, well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you went and tried to handle this on your own.” he threw his hands up, his frustration spilling over like a dam breaking. “you didn’t even tell me, and now i’m supposed to just sit back and be okay with it?”

“i didn’t tell you because i knew this is how you’d react,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

his face twisted, a mixture of disbelief and something else - hurt, maybe. but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a hard, almost cold expression. “damn right this is how i’d react,” he shot back. “because i give a shit. because i don’t want you getting hurt or screwed over or whatever the hell else might happen if i’m not there to step in.”

“i know you care,” you said, your voice still soft but firm. “but you can’t control everything, frank. sometimes things happen, and you just have to let them go.”

he let out a sharp, bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. “letting it go gets you hurt. letting it go gets you walked all over. i��m not gonna let that happen to you.”

his words were loud, forceful, like he was trying to hammer them into your head, but they only made your throat tighten more. “i can handle myself,” you said, your voice shaking slightly despite your best efforts.

“can you?” he snapped, and the doubt in his tone stung worse than any of the yelling.

you flinched, your eyes dropping to the floor. “that’s not fair,” you whispered.

“yeah, well, life’s not fair,” he shot back, his tone still razor-sharp.

silence fell between you, heavy and suffocating. you could feel the sting of tears threatening to spill, but you refused to cry - not in front of him, not when he was like this, which he never had been before. you’d seen flashes of it occasionally, never once directed at you. so instead, you turned on your heel and walked out of the room, your steps quick but steady, your back straight even though every part of you felt like curling up into yourself.

you didn’t look back, but you could feel his eyes on you as you left.

the door clicked softly as you shut yourself in the bathroom, leaning back against the cool wood as you tried to pull in a steadying breath. it felt like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs back in the living room, and now the weight of it all was crashing down on you.

you stared at the tiled floor, your arms wrapped around yourself like that might somehow hold you together. your chest felt tight, your eyes stinging with unshed tears, but you bit down hard on your bottom lip, refusing to let them fall. not yet, anyway.

you weren’t used to this - not with frank. he could be sharp, blunt, even infuriatingly stubborn sometimes, but he was never cruel. not to you. in the years since you’d met him, since the whirlwind of your relationship had gone from cautiously circling each other to something real and steady, frank had always been your safe place. he was intense, sure, but his intensity had always felt protective, grounding, like you could lean on him no matter how bad things got.

so why did it feel like he was the one knocking the ground out from under you now?

you pressed the heels of your hands against your eyes, trying to will the tears away. it wasn’t fair to pin all the blame on him, you knew that. this argument wasn’t entirely about frank’s temper, or his need to protect you - it was about your own unwillingness to let him.

the issue had started small, just a casual remark you’d made earlier in the week about someone you worked with - someone who’d been taking advantage of your kindness. you hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but frank had picked up on it immediately, and the more you’d tried to brush it off, the more his protective instincts had kicked in.

at first, it had been sweet, his quiet grumbles about how people didn’t deserve to treat you that way, how you needed to stand up for yourself more. but somewhere along the line, it had turned into this - a full-blown argument where neither of you seemed to be able to see the other’s side.

you weren’t blind to why he was upset. frank had been through more than most people could even imagine, and the idea of someone hurting you - or even disrespecting you - lit a fire in him that he couldn’t always control. but the way he handled that fire was what made your chest ache. it felt suffocating, like his need to protect you was overshadowing the fact that you didn’t want - or need - him to fight your battles for you.

you let out a shaky breath, the first tear slipping free as the weight of it all settled heavier on your shoulders.

frank had always been larger than life to you - not just physically, though his sheer size and strength made you feel small in comparison, but in the way he carried himself, the way he seemed to command every room he walked into. it was part of what had drawn you to him in the first place, the quiet confidence that bordered on intimidating until you saw the softness he tried so hard to hide.

he’d always been gentle with you, even when his hands were so calloused and rough, even when his voice was so gravelly and low. it made the harshness of his words tonight cut deeper, the sharp edges of his anger something you weren’t used to being on the receiving end of.

you wiped at your face quickly, straightening up as you tried to pull yourself together. you hated crying - especially over arguments like this. it made you feel weak, even though you knew it wasn’t, and the last thing you wanted was for frank to think he’d broken you. he’d never stop beating himself up over it.

still, you couldn’t bring yourself to go back out there yet. not with the way his words were still echoing in your mind, the frustration in his voice still ringing in your ears.

you stayed there for a while, letting the quiet of the bathroom wrap around you like a blanket, giving yourself the space to breathe and feel without the weight of frank’s presence bearing down on you.

meanwhile, in the living room, frank was pacing again. his hands were on his hips, his brows drawn together in that way they always did when he was deep in thought - or pissed off.

he knew you were upset. hell, he wasn’t an idiot, and he’d seen the way your eyes were brimming with tears before you’d turned and walked away. it wasn’t the first time he’d pushed too hard, but it was the first time it had been directed at you, and it was eating at him in a way he didn’t want to admit.

but the anger was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, and he couldn’t seem to let it go. it wasn’t directed at you - not at all. it was at the situation, at the asshole who’d made you feel like you had to handle everything on your own. but frank wasn’t exactly good at untangling those things, at separating his frustration from the people he cared about most.

he scrubbed a hand over his face, letting out a low growl of frustration as he dropped onto the couch. his mind was running in circles, replaying the argument over and over again, each word sharper than the last.

the silence in the apartment felt deafening, and for a moment, he considered going to find you, to try and talk this out. but he stopped himself, his jaw clenching as he forced himself to stay put. you needed space - he knew that much, even if it went against every instinct he had.

he sat there for a long time, the tension in his body refusing to ease as he stared at the spot where you’d been standing just minutes before.

the car keys sat on the counter, untouched, while the clock crept closer to the time you were supposed to leave. it had been a whole thing - this charity function a few towns over. someone important to frank had invited him, and even though it wasn’t the kind of event he’d normally go for, he’d said yes because it mattered to them.

you had said yes because it mattered to him.

but now, with the argument still heavy in the air, the thought of sitting next to him for almost four hours felt like trying to breathe underwater. the quiet that lingered between you wasn’t the natural kind you often enjoyed. it was thick and suffocating, and neither of you seemed ready to cut through it.

you stood in the bedroom doorway, watching frank tie his boots like the act itself had wronged him. his movements were sharp, jerky, and his mouth was set in a grim line. you weren’t sure if it was guilt or frustration written in his expression, but either way, it left your stomach in knots.

he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, yanking it on with a force that looked like it made the seams strain. his head turned slightly toward you as if he was about to say something, but then he thought better of it, his eyes dropping to the floor instead.

you didn’t move, didn’t speak, just hovered in the doorway as he brushed past you toward the front door. the weight of it all - the argument, the way he hadn’t looked at you since - pressed down on your chest like a boulder, and your throat burned with more unshed tears.

when he held the door open for you, you walked through it wordlessly, your gaze fixed on the floor.

outside, the crisp night air felt sharper than it should have, like even the weather was conspiring to remind you how raw everything was. frank locked the door behind you without a word, and the sound of the lock clicking into place made you flinch.

he didn’t notice.

the car ride loomed ahead of you like a punishment, the thought of sitting in that confined space together for hours making your palms sweat. but there was no way out of it, not without causing more problems.

frank climbed into the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles went white. he started the engine without looking at you, the low growl of it filling the space where words should’ve been.

you slid into the passenger seat, keeping your hands in your lap and your gaze fixed on the window. the city lights blurred into streaks as the car picked up speed, but you weren’t paying attention to where you were going. your mind was stuck on everything that had been said - and everything that hadn’t.

he’d been angry. louder than usual, harsher, the words tumbling out of him like he didn’t know how to stop them. but you knew frank. you knew the fire in him wasn’t because he didn’t care - it was because he cared too much, and it scared him sometimes.

still, knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.

the silence in the car was unbearable, the kind that made you want to fill it just so you didn’t have to sit with the weight of it anymore. but frank wasn’t giving you an inch, his eyes glued to the road and his shoulders hunched up like he was trying to shield himself from the world.

you stole a glance at him, your chest aching at the sight of his furrowed brow and clenched jaw. he looked tired - angry, yes, but tired too, like the argument had drained him in ways he didn’t want to admit.

your own emotions were bubbling up, threatening to spill over no matter how hard you tried to keep them in check. your hands trembled slightly in your lap, and you clenched them into fists to try to stop it, but it didn’t help.

you didn’t even realize you were crying until a tear slipped down your cheek, cool against your flushed skin. you brushed it away quickly, hoping frank wouldn’t notice, but you doubted he’d even glanced your way.

the road stretched on, dark and empty except for the occasional glow of headlights from oncoming cars. the longer the silence dragged, the heavier it felt, like it was wrapping around your throat and making it hard to breathe.

eventually, the ache in your chest grew too much to bear. you didn’t know what you wanted - comfort, maybe, or some kind of reassurance that everything would be okay - but the urge to reach out was overwhelming.

your hand hovered hesitantly over the center console, your fingers trembling as you debated whether or not to do it. it felt like crossing some invisible line, like putting yourself out there in a way that left you completely vulnerable.

but then you glanced at frank, at the way his brow furrowed and his jaw tightened, and something in you broke.

with tears brimming in your eyes and a small, helpless pout tugging at your lips, you let your fingers reach up to grasp at his. the touch was so light it was barely there, but it was enough to draw his attention.

he glanced down at your hand, his gaze softening instantly as he took in the way your fingers trembled and the sheen of tears in your eyes, the wet tracks of tears that’d already fallen etched on your face.

“ah, sweetheart,” he muttered, his voice rough but laced with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

his hand moved to cover yours completely, his fingers curling around your smaller ones in a gesture that felt both protective and grounding. his thumb brushed over the back of your hand in slow, deliberate strokes, and the tension in your chest eased just a little.

you sniffled, blinking quickly to clear your vision as you looked up at him. his expression had shifted, the hard lines of his face softening as he met your gaze.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.

frank let out a heavy sigh, his grip on your hand tightening slightly as he pulled the car off to the side of the road. the tires crunched against the gravel as he put it in park, and before you could ask what he was doing, he was out of the car.

your breath caught as he rounded the front of the vehicle, his movements deliberate but not rushed. he opened your door, the cool night air rushing in as he crouched slightly to meet your eyes.

“c’mere,” he said softly, his tone a stark contrast to the anger that had been there earlier.

you hesitated for only a moment before unbuckling your seatbelt and letting him pull you into his arms. his embrace was warm and solid, his arms wrapping around you in a way that made you feel small and safe all at once.

“’m sorry, baby,” he murmured against your hair, his voice rough with emotion. “shouldn’t’ve yelled. shouldn’t’ve made you feel like that.”

you buried your face in his chest, your own arms slipping around his middle as you let out a shaky breath. “i’m sorry too,” you whispered.

“you don’t gotta be sorry, you did nothing wrong. my sweet girl’s just nice to everyone, isn’t she?” he cooed, his hand came up to cradle the back of your head, his thumb brushing gently against your temple as he peppered hard kisses over your face. “we’re okay?”

you nodded against him, a small, shaky smile tugging at your lips. “we’re okay.”

he pressed another kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment longer than before. but instead of pulling back completely, frank’s lips trailed down, brushing lightly against your temple, then your cheek.

your breath hitched, your hand tightening around his shirt as he hesitated, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. when your eyes flicked up to meet his, there was something unspoken between you - an ache, a pull that neither of you could ignore.

“frank…” your voice was barely a whisper, and it only made him lean in closer.

his hand moved to cradle the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as his lips finally found yours. the kiss was slow at first, soft and careful, but there was a heat behind it, a depth that made your stomach twist in the best way.

he kissed you like he needed you, like he couldn’t get close enough no matter how tightly he held you. his other hand slid to your waist, pulling you against him just enough to make you feel the strength behind every touch, every movement.

when he pulled back, it was with a low, rumbling breath, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to steady himself. “you’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he murmured, his voice rough and tinged with something deeper.

your cheeks flushed, your heart racing as you tried to find the words, but all you could do was nod, your fingers still gripping the front of his shirt.

he pressed one last, lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth before stepping back. “c’mon,” he said, his tone softer now, his thumb brushing your cheek one last time before helping you back into the car.

as he slid into the driver’s seat, his hand found yours again, holding on tightly. this time, neither of you let go.

the rest of the drive was quiet, but not in the same way as before. frank kept one hand on the wheel, the other holding yours firmly in his grasp. his thumb moved in slow, lazy circles over your knuckles, a silent apology with every stroke.

you felt the tension melting bit by bit, your chest no longer tight with the weight of everything left unsaid. instead, there was this warmth - a softness between you that hadn’t been there earlier. it was unspoken, but it was enough to ease the ache in your heart.

“we’ll stop soon, yeah?” frank broke the silence, his voice low and softer than usual. “get you somethin’ to eat.”

your lips curved into a small smile, your first real one since the argument. “i’m okay,” you murmured. “we don’t have to stop.”

“nah.” he glanced over at you, his eyes lingering for a second longer than they should’ve. “you didn’t eat much earlier. ain’t lettin’ you sit through this thing hungry.”

the tenderness in his voice made your cheeks heat, and you squeezed his hand lightly in response.

it wasn’t long before frank pulled off at a small diner on the side of the road. the neon sign flickered against the night sky, casting a warm glow over the parking lot.

“c’mon,” he said, cutting the engine and stepping out.

before you could even reach for the door handle, frank was already there, pulling it open for you. his hand was outstretched, waiting for yours, and when you slipped your fingers into his, he gave them a gentle squeeze.

inside, the diner was quiet, the hum of conversation and the clatter of dishes filling the space. frank led you to a booth in the corner, his hand never leaving yours until you slid into your seat.

“what’re you in the mood for?” he asked, his eyes scanning the menu even though you both knew he’d end up ordering the same thing he always did.

you shrugged, your fingers playing with the edge of the napkin in front of you. “maybe just some fries.”

frank frowned, lowering the menu to look at you. “you need more than that.”

“frank, i’m fine - ”

“i’ll get you somethin’ else too,” he cut in, his tone leaving no room for argument.

you bit back a smile, knowing better than to push him when he got like this. instead, you let him order for both of you, his gruff voice somehow softer when he spoke to the waitress.

when the food arrived, frank nudged the plate closer to you, his eyes narrowing slightly when you hesitated. “eat, sweetheart,” he said gently.

you rolled your eyes but grabbed a fry anyway, earning a satisfied grunt from him.

as you ate, the tension from earlier felt like a distant memory. frank had a way of grounding you, of making you feel like no matter how bad things got, everything would eventually be okay.

after the meal, frank walked you back to the car, his hand settling on the small of your back as he guided you outside. the night air was crisp, but his touch was warm, steady, and it made you lean into him just a little.

“y’alright?” he asked once you were back in the passenger seat.

you nodded, looking up at him with a soft smile. “yeah. i’m okay.”

his eyes lingered on yours for a moment, and then, without a word, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. it was quick but tender, and when he pulled back, his hand cupped your cheek for a second longer.

the drive to the function was quieter this time, but it wasn’t the heavy silence from before. it was comfortable, the kind of quiet where words weren’t necessary because you both knew everything was okay now.

as you pulled up to the venue, frank cut the engine and turned to you. his expression was softer, his usual rough edges smoothed out in a way that made your heart ache.

“you look beautiful,” he said, his voice gruff but sincere.

your cheeks flushed at the compliment, and you glanced down at your dress, suddenly feeling shy. “thank you,” you murmured.

he leaned over, his large hand settling on your knee as he pressed a quick kiss to your temple. “‘m gonna keep tellin’ you that all night,” he added, his lips quirking into the faintest of smirks.

the warmth in your chest grew, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. “you don’t look so bad yourself,” you teased, your tone light.

he chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, and you swore it was the best thing you’d heard all day.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he said, opening his door. “let’s get this over with.”

as you stepped out of the car, frank was already by your side, his hand finding yours once more. he held it tightly, his grip firm and reassuring, and when he glanced down at you, there was something in his eyes that made your breath catch.

it was love - raw and unfiltered, the kind that didn’t need words to be understood.

and in that moment, you knew that no matter what, you and frank would always find your way back to each other.